post_text stringlengths 0 10k | post_title stringlengths 8 313 | chosen stringlengths 1 39.5k | rejected stringlengths 1 13.8k |
|---|---|---|---|
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | I guess I don't have much to do right now, nor do I mind the effort, so I'll tell you about how my life has been going up to right now.
It was clear early on that I had some sort of "language" ability. The doctor who was doing the checkup turned to his partner and began to speak in Spanish, something about "What is his schedule like?" before I interrupted and told him I was free this Friday.
Clearly, I had some grand language understanding, as later testing proved that I had become fluent in all languages.
"Language".
What a strange word, now that I think about it.
What is, a language? What does the ability to understand it mean?
Well to be literal, I suppose it means the ability to interpret the signals and contextual meanings of stimuli in order to create an idea of what the person, or object, is conveying.
It doesn't speak in what you would call a "language", per say...
*The Universe*, that is...
There isn't an alphabet or sentence structure really, nor is there really an idea to convey.
It's confusing to describe what it *speaks* as what it speaks is... well... *IS*.
For example, this wall, right here, in what you call a "Secure room". I can understand the, in lifeform terms, "language" it is speaking.
Atoms, molecules, quarks, gravity, magnetism, it's all a stage the so-called language uses to contextualize what it means.
For instance, this new hole in the wall. You can't seem to understand how I could communicate to the wall that I wish it to do that, can you? It's not difficult for me; the language of matter tends to be quite basic. If I could translate it would most likely be along the lines of "hold here unless otherwise". All it takes is a simple method of communication, in a lifeform's case a bizarre transfer of pure energy itself, to instruct these walls to just, move.
Or this object, you just attempted to launch at me. A simple "blob" of matter projected using condensed energy patterns. It's quite easy for me to translate that momentum energy to heat, or radiation, or even more matter such as air if I really wanted to.
I mean really; it's not that difficult. It may seem to you, kind sir, that your arms are incapable of moving or your legs cannot follow your commands, but I urge you to see it from my view; I am simply drowning out the other, ugh, this word again, "Languages" of the universe. Really, it's all quite simple.
If only you could speak to the forces going on inside you right now maybe you wouldn't be having such a bad time with them. Who knows?
Now, what were we talking about? I think I took a tangent somewhere back there. Agh, no matter.
Anyway, this interview has become tiresome. Speaking in your, ugh, LANGUAG- see I hate using this phrase; it's so.... "3rd dimensional". You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it's tedious for me, and frankly it's far too simple. I'm off to finish what I've started.
I can hear the power of the universe, it's pulse, it's speech, it's beautiful culture. And that's all I need to hear. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It's hard to explain what is is like to have a magical power without experiencing it yourself. No matter how prevalent the spark of lightning from a finger or a water bomb shot out of a hand was there was no child that looked upon their awakening day without at least some expectation and some trepidation.
All men may be created equal but no one could deny some powers were better than others, it was to the point that if a slacker inherited a useful enough power they could immediately outshine the valedictorian should their power not match up.
In fact I was that valedictorian, and on my day of awakening (it's almost always a few days after your actual birthday), I was summoned to my mind palace. Each person's mind palace \[which is an extra benefit of the magic inheritance process\], was a reflection of their interests and state of mind over the years. I wasn't surprised to see mine was very orderly and bookish. It was in fact very much a library, adorned with books with titles of great and minor memories, the size of which depended on how well I remembered the event.
At the centre of my palace of books I found a book, there was no mistaking what the book was so I staggered and slowed, slowly stopping to feel the power that surrounded it. Bracing myself with a deep breath I took an unsteady step forward, inching towards a power that could affect up to 60% of my future wealth, my choice of partner, my very reputation from hence this day forth and either enhance of ruin every effort I've put in for 18 years.
The book was entitled 'Bablelonian Speech', I could not open the book as of now but as soon as I touched it I knew I was screwed, without a doubt my power was the archaeologists wet dream and hopeful 18 year old's nightmare. What in the hell was a 'Babel' and why would I want it/their speech, flipping the book around I found the blurb. 'He who shall tower above others, must possess the ability to bind all together and speak in one word all laws'. "FUUUUUUUUUCK", I screamed, and popped out of my mind palace.
It would be two days later I would find out that the school slacker Rajus in a world where many slacked off in the hopes they could inherit a great power and continue coasting in life, excelled in seeming lazy and foolish (which was no small feat) had acquired the fabled power of 'Mana Linkage' putting him up their with the likes of Jimon Lyons and Mika Bearton, multi billionaires in thier own right.
On the bright side, turns out mr Snuffles does actually like me, so...there's that. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | (I'm going to change the pov character if that's alright)
We stare at the screen waiting. I just put the DNA sample into the machine so It'll only be a few more minutes untill we know. The eve of his 18th birthday, my son is soon to be a man. I honestly couldn't be more proud of him. He's sitting on his bed stareing intently at the device wizzing and rattling. I can tell he's excited and a little scared, but I'm confident that whatever he gets he'll make the most of it.
"To understand and be able to communicate in all languages"
I hear a sigh of slight disappointment from beside me.
"It's a mighty fine power if you ask me. There are many avenues for you with it"
He doesn't seem to convinced. He's disappointed right now but I'm sure he'll come around to it. Its not the flashiest thing in the world but it'll secure him a good life. I'm sure foreign diplomats could use someone like him, or he could translate books and other media if he wanted.
"Ok, you need to go to bed soon. Your power will be activated right after you wake up tomorrow so you need to get some sleep, ok?"
"Yea, I know" he grumbles back.
He'll probably still be disappointed when he wakes up. I hope it doesn't get him down too much. Honestly, I wish his mom was still here, she was so good at dealing with these kinds of things. But now's not the time for that.
The next day I am awoken by a gut wrenching sound. Screaming. It's coming from his room. I run as fast as I can. He's keeled over on his bed.
"Hey! are you okay? What's going on?"
He doesn't respond. I go up to him and shake his shoulders but he doesn't react. His eyes look straight past me but he's still screaming with a terrified look on his face. The sound is horrifying, it's unlike anything I've ever heard. God, what do I do? What should I do?
A few minutes pass and he finally goes quiet. It seems he's knocked himself unconscious with all that screaming. I'm so confused. Something has clearly happened but I don't know what or how to help him. It feels like all I can do is wait. I don't want to leave his side.
Eventually his eyes open again. He just stares at the ceiling.
"Are you okay?"
"Yea, I'm sorry, that was probably an overreaction. Its just that..."
"That?"
"Nobody should have to know something like that"
"Know What? What's going on?"
"Don't worry about it, it's not something I think I'd be able to explain even if I tried"
"Is everything alright?"
"Everything is fine, I'm okay now dad, sorry for earlier"
"Alright, I'm going to get you some breakfast real quick, you should really eat something, you're probably still tired from all that. Also, if there's something going on please tell me, I'll do what I can to help."
"Trust me, it's nothing, just forget about all this"
"If you say so, I'm going to get your breakfast now"
"Alright, thanks dad"
As I'm leaving I hear some rustling and suddenly feel that I'm being hugged quite tightly. From behind me I hear "dad?"
"What's up?" I respond
"I love you"
"I love you t-" before I can respond I'm cut off"
"I don't know about anything else, but I know that right now, I love you. I know that I feel that and that it is real". I don't entirely understand what he's trying to say right now but I'm happy to be so loved. "We aren't going to be here long so I wanted you to know that"
"What do you mean?"
"This isn't a book, and it's barely a short story, we're approaching the end so I just want to enjoy it while I can"
"I don't understand"
"Don't worry about it. I'm going to take over for the rest if that's alright"
"What?"
"They hugged it out for a bit but eventually went about their day, not really paying any heed to the events of the morning. They both went on to live long, healthy and fulfilling lives."
---
I apologize, I'm a really bad writer but this prompt gave me this idea and I felt I really had to get it out. Thanks for making it this far | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | I think the Egyptians were on to something. Ren - the Egyptian term for your true name. Ra, the sun god himself, was fabled to have lost dominion of earth due to telling Isis his ren.
I remember that day.
Funny thing about knowing every language. You can read everyone’s ren. You can hear everything’s ren.
I’ve learned to speak to every person. I’ve learned to fish from the fisherman. I’ve learned to bake from the baker. I’ve learned to speak from the politician.
I’ve learned to speak to birds. I made them my minions. A handful of crows bring me breakfast in the morning. A hundred vultures protect me in wake. A thousand eagles protect me in sleep.
I’ve learned to talk to plants. I’ve learned how to grow them tallest. I’ve learned how to heal with them. I’ve learned how to poison with them. I’ve learned how to move them.
I’ve learned how to converse with objects. Pens told me the sweetest things written in them. Lampposts told me the dirtiest things that happened under them. Guns told me that they swore allegiance to me.
I’ve learned to listen to time. I’ve learned to decrypt the most heard sounds. I’ve learned to find time’s favorites. I’ve learned to bend time to my will. I’ve learned to break time.
I’ve learned to make gods into my slaves. Ra told me that I was crazy. Isis told me that I was insane. Horus couldn’t say anything once I was done.
Ren. Once you can understand it, you can understand everything. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | I first noticed my power when I was getting my local coffee shop; when a lady spilled coffee on me and profusely apologized. I instinctively replied that it was no problem. In French; I've never taken french in class nor knew any words outside of 'Oui'. At this time it was two months after my birthday, I knew people got powers on their 18th birthday and it was something to look forward too, so when it was my day I tried all the things I would have wanted as a power.
I tried flying by jumping off a swing set, I tried turning invisible and sneaking into a private pool and the power I thought would be the coolest of them all, firebreathing. But at last none of them worked, so I kind of just went on with my life waiting till the day I finally release my awesome power. But this. This was not awesome, I went testing my newfound power hoping it was a mistake. Perhaps I just learned it in a T.V show I watched as a kid, but once again I was meant was a full-on conversation with a Spanish speaking friend of mine. By the way, his power was the ability to lessen the gravity of anything he touched my 40%. Sufficed to say I was a bit jealous.
Look don't get me wrong, this power of mine is honestly kind of amazing in its own way. I have now traveled to each corner of the earth and feel very satisfied with each experience. And being able to have lengthy conversations with the locals makes every place unique. having the ability to fluently read and speak every language has opened up so many opportunities for me, including meeting my wife.
Now all this said I dreamed of power that would allow me to live the kind of life that only superman lived. Call it a child's dream, that's fine that was exactly what it was. But somewhere along the road, it turned fiction. You see, my kid has a pet rock called Tom, I indulged her, entering her fantasy world.
"Hello, Tom was it?" I said with a smile.
"Tom say hi back, don't be rude" my daughter snapped at the rock with googly eyes on it.
"sup" said a voice. In my head? No, it was not in my head. Then I heard a sound like a guy sucking on his teeth, "see, that's rude."
"Tom?" I said knowing full well I sound insane.
"umm, yeah what's up man" the man's voice or I guess the voice of the rock sounded just as confused as me.
"ok, note to self need more sleep," I said under my breath. "Sweety, tell me what Tom said, I'm afraid that I can't understand him."
"But daddy, I thought you knew all languages" she let a sigh of disappointment out.
"true, but..." I took a moment to think. "Tom?"
"Yo, I don't know why you keep calling my name but please shut up!" Tom said with a low deep voice.
"Yeah, sorry sweety it doesn't work like that." | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Ok so. When I turned 18 my power manifested itself. I went to the doctor to get it registered and ranked. So I have a common ability, the doctors call it "the power of understanding" but even though it was common the doctors ranked me higher than any of translator had been ranked. Well the doctor said he couldn't tell me because of some legal reasons. So about now I should probably tell you how the power works, so unlike most of translators I don't just hear and under stand it. Most other translators are only able to under stand and speak but for them the language is no different they just under it, but for me well, when I talk to someone there speech patterns, language, and even accent changes into something that understand the best. But most interestingly the words they say would be put above them like a video game text box.
Well after a while of being considered a 4 scale super (the scale goes through 10 to 0 with 0 being the best of the best and 10 being the least useful powers) I found out something, whenever an event that I could have stopped happened I would here a voice and see the text seeming out of the wind. For example, I heard the voice and and saw the text which said "take two steps to the left" so I did. a few seconds later a car turned a corner and blasted through where I stood a few seconds before. So I told this to a doctor and he asked for proof. Out of nowhere the voice said "move to the left" so I did and while I moved a brick fell through the ceiling and smashed into where I sat before. With the doctor being given amazing proof I was soon up graded to a 1. I have lately not been doing anything. But a massive war recently between my country and another. The voice spoke again "get out of here by tomorrow" so I told every one I knew to do so. The day after. My city was heavily bombed to near cinders, thank you universe. I guess. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | The party was over. I half expected it to appear when I blew out the candles; my power, that is. Drat my luck that I was born so late in the day. I spent the afternoon, depressed, in my room. Supine on my bed, my eyes lazily scanned across my bedroom walls. Star Wars... Thor... Akira... The Matrix... Poster clad walls littered with all of my favorite films. Wasn't my Akira poster a Japanese reprint, though? I had to do a double take to believe my eyes. Those aren't English letters, but I can read them! My heart sank. I can read them.
All these years, I had wondered what fantastical thing I might be able to do once I turned 18. Lifting cars, flying through the air, heat vision, **HEAT VISION.** UGH! What do I end up with? Reading comprehension. I put on a movie to calm my mind. "Spirited Away." ...Well, at least I don't need subtitles anymore. That'll be interesting.
I sat on my bed for a few moments, trying to concentrate on the television, but there was a faint humming noise coming from the speakers. No... not the speakers... the television itself. And the computer. And the outlets. And the lights. The humming was everywhere. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my coat and wallet, heading for who knows where. Any place but here.
I shuffled down the sidewalk, hoping to take my mind off of my situation, but the humming followed me. Cellphone? Turn that off. Still humming. This can't be happening! I raised my hood to cover my ears. The fabric is humming! What is going on? My mind reeled, trying to grasp my situation. Super hearing? No, it can't be. You only get one power. The ringing is becoming deafening. **I wish it would stop.** *...silence...* Sweet, sweet silence. The hood of my jacket was gone. Where did it go? It was sewn to the jacket! That doesn't just happen, disappearing hoods, right? I closed my eyes in frustration. The sound of the humming from the hood filling my mind, I feel a weight on my head. The hood is back.
What am I? I retreated to a nearby tree, the humming of which was immeasurable. I pulled my coat over my head. I watched as the coat dissolved into thin air. This isn't possible. I concentrated on the humming of the oak. The tree melted away, revealing my jacket where it once stood. This humming, this frequency, seemed slightly different with each object I inspected. Rocks were too much for me to create, too many sounds, too indistinct, too hard to memorize. Money on the other hand, wasn't. I held a twenty dollar bill to my ear. Then I held a rock to my other ear and changed its pitch in my mind until they were the same. Forty dollars and no rock. ...This could be fun. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | My powers was plain.
The scientific community categorized it as Universal Linguist.
The ability to read, and speak any language known to sentient life.
Ancient scriptures? Easy, though the changes in grammar sometimes made it annoying to rewrite. Especially the much older languages.
Those pictographs on a cave wall? Yeah, it was about hunting animals. With your male genitalia.
Riveting.
So I passed time, traveling around the world. I saw, and talked to the locals. I was able to gain protected passages through rather hostile lands. All for the ability to translate things for various people.
Museums and Collectors of archaeological treasures. Those paid some big bucks to transcribe.
Not enough to make me rich, but enough to jump around the globe.
A few hours jotting down the findings, and then a week or four in a country.
Not a bad lifestyle, but not exactly sustainable in the long run. How many artifacts where there? How many cared to pay to have it translated?
While others flew, or altered the very fabrics of reality, I could read and write.
It wasn’t the best, but it was mine for now.
As the sole known Universal Linguist, I had inadvertently cornered the market. No one else was offering services on custom translations.
At least I was making a neat scrapbook out of my projects. No one ever complained so long as I never referenced where I found said artifacts.
It was a journal of sorts. Proof of my existence.
—
Then I found it.
In the island nation of Japan.
A traditional Japanese esoteric system called Onmyodo. It meant ‘The Way of Yin and Yang’.
Mister Takahashi, current head and caretaker had a set of paper dolls. These heirlooms were handed down for almost two thousand years.
The Takahashi family was once an esteemed family of Onmyodo masters. Today they were a normal family by Japanese standards.
Mister Takahashi desired to see if I could exam the faded set of scriptures. They had were written in the 10th century. Hand crafted by most prominent head of the Takahashi clan.
The pay was good, and it was enough to let me stay in Japan for a full season. I said yes.
Like many collectors, and those who had heirloom pieces, the writing was rough. I could understand it, but chicken scribbles, was chicken scribbles.
I recreated the writing on another sheet. Then I double, triple, and quadruple checked it.
The language wasn’t quite Japanese, despite its resemblence on it. It was as if everything was a mash of Chinese, Japanese slang words.
The sentences had little addendums. They refered to the classic 5 elements, yin and yang, and the Heaven / Earth polarity.
The current head of the Takahashi clan, had provided special inks. A combination of human blood, and squid ink, to recreate the original scriptures.
It was slow. I couldn’t use a pen, as it was to thin. So each line had to required forethought and patience.
Brushes was the best tool, and I retraced the fine and rather delicate work.
It was lucky that newer, small brushes were easy to create and use. It must have been a nightmare for the ancient people to have to make precise tools back then.
The days melted and blurred as I work.
The design was both simple, yet intricate. Words overlapped at times, creating unique hybrids that could mean several things. Confusing, but with my powers, legible.
It was quite beautiful when I finished. The long set of commands that would empower, and grant false life to an object.
It was quite cute, the wording and imagination.
I refolded the paper. It was still somehow flexible despite its age.
The dozen paper dolls lined up. A nice display of the refreshed words. With how the sentences crisscrossed, it was less of a set of instructions, and more of a work of art.
Mister Takahashi smiled as he stared at the repaired dolls. In his hands was my payment. With a satisfied smile, he handed it over.
As a final joke, I gave the man the list of commands.
Fly.
Speak.
See.
Dance.
Empower. (Magic ritual via command seals)
Mister Takahashi laughed, and spoke the command to dance.
We stared, and they did not move.
We laughed.
The first doll stood up, and began to flex its limbs.
Our laughter died.
Then the second. The third.
The dozen dolls began to hover over the table I used across the two weeks for repairs.
They danced. They made jingling sounds that I had, at the time, thought odd. Now it made sense as they began to chime during pauses.
We stared as they finished their dance, and then laid down. Still as the day I saw them.
Mister Takahashi stared. Then teared up as his family’s legacy became vetted. They were not a family of frauds and tricksters. They held prominent titles and station for centuries.
As specialists doing great work, and great deeds.
I stared down at my hands.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
Universal Linguist wasn’t a D class power after all.
If I could do this with paper, then what else could I use?
The thought of metals, and other materials came to mind.
As did the vast stores of work I had done before.
Other ‘mystic’ systems. Norse. North American.
It was all there, in my journal.
Which had now included Japanese mysticism.
If those worked, and I began to combine them…
Wouldn’t I become something more.
I said my goodbyes to the shell shocked man.
With a skip in my step, I made my way down to my hotel.
I pulled out my phone, and began to look for other artifacts.
It was time to do some serious reading.
——— Author’s Corner ———
Thanks for reading.
I hope you enjoyed this simple story! | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Journal Entry 321, 4 days after my 18th, also known as the 'Big One'
People started to look at me funny. I haven't told them what I noticed this past weekend, when I was out in the garden without any shoes on. I stepped into a mound of soil by mistake and immediately my entire world went fuzzy and blank.
It was as if I was a guitar plugging into an amplifier, during that small window where the metal contacts send a buzz through the speaker. After collecting myself for several minutes, I still hadn't managed to figure out what that was supposed to be. With great apprehension (and some sick curiosity) I stuck my foot into the soil again. This time more slowly!
Now, slightly more prepared, this next attempt was... enlightening. For let me tell you! I had finally understood all that I had previously not. I placed my foot into the soil again, this time with some primal fervor. Yet again, oh my body!
It must have to do with this recent power, yes? Power of language? Am I speaking to the dead? No, that can't be. But it would explain the whole soil bit... I hadn't managed to be productive with this weird feeling yet - so I decided to yet again place my foot into the soil with an attempt to learn.
I placed my foot into the cold soil and left it there for what felt like ten minutes. After the initial shock of newly introduced stimuli, I finally figured it out. It's a message of some sort, that sounds very much like a whale underwater. No words- just rumbling, ticks, and echoes. It calls to me.
I've stopped wearing shoes. Everywhere i go, I place my foot into to see if there's any reaction of sorts and there isn't. I'm starting to wonder.
Journal Entry 322, 5 days passed -
I tried to tell the other students why I've been dirty and barefoot lately - it's because I'm able to talk to dead people; that's one facet of my new power! I just have to stick my feet into a mound of soil. Stacy was actually disgusted by my thought process, and she had zipped away on her broomstick. Sorry not everyone has as cool of a power as you, bitch.
Anyway, sigh .. I know this is a journal but that still felt weird to write. I'm done for now.
Journal Entry 324, 12 days passed -
I've ripped the last entry out and burned it. I had to. I wrote down too much and people are starting to get weird. I come home and place my feet into the soil, it's all I want to do. All answers come to me, and I can just ... decipher them. I'm not sure how to put it but I feel like a spider dancing on top of a complex web.
I've noticed that Stacy no longer looks at me, she brushes me off and pretends that I don't exist. That's fine, but at least tell me! Agh. I'm to quit this journal for now and go place my feet.
Journal Entry 325, 15 days passed -
LAST JOURNAL, NO TIME. THEY'RE COMING. STACY MUST HAVE RATTED ON ME. I WAS FAR TOO POWERFUL BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE DEAD. SHE DIDNT BELIEVE ME. IVE GONE AND PROVEN HER WRONG. I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH HER NOW.
Those were the last of Phil's journals. No one knows where he is. No one has seen Stacy. The school just got back the analysis report on Phil's mystic power profile. He wasn't talking to the dead, he was talking to something far greater... the universe.
As it stands, investigators have rummaged through all of his belongings. Nothing of use, aside from his journal and few damned bags of potting soil. | What a useless power in the age of Google translate, I cried when I got home after finding out my power. Even in my small town, there was such greatness, people could fly, or dive into the lake and stay underwater for hours observing fish. I cried, for the first time since I was a child, not even when my father died from using his power to absorb any disease, though I suppose it saved my mother.
What's even the point, I'd rather have the power to see the temperature, or at very least read fast. My power is just to read or speak any language, I mean I can speak to ants, but Tim can control animals, he doesn't need to convince an ant to do anything, he can command the entire colony.
I don't even want anyone to find out, maybe I can just claim there's no power, some people have nothing, or maybe they are lying, though most have a learning disability.
There's nothing to do now, but to go to my safe place, a place I've not visited since my father passed away. I could stay there overnight, and figure out what to do.
It's close, just up the hill, I made it up in uber five minutes, it felt so far away back when I was a child. The place hardly even changed, same grass, same tree, and so I laid down looking up at the stars as I've done ten years ago.
The stars spelled out "Mirsheard was standing by". I picked up my phone "Google, show me the stars in the visible universe". There was a lot to read. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Ok so. When I turned 18 my power manifested itself. I went to the doctor to get it registered and ranked. So I have a common ability, the doctors call it "the power of understanding" but even though it was common the doctors ranked me higher than any of translator had been ranked. Well the doctor said he couldn't tell me because of some legal reasons. So about now I should probably tell you how the power works, so unlike most of translators I don't just hear and under stand it. Most other translators are only able to under stand and speak but for them the language is no different they just under it, but for me well, when I talk to someone there speech patterns, language, and even accent changes into something that understand the best. But most interestingly the words they say would be put above them like a video game text box.
Well after a while of being considered a 4 scale super (the scale goes through 10 to 0 with 0 being the best of the best and 10 being the least useful powers) I found out something, whenever an event that I could have stopped happened I would here a voice and see the text seeming out of the wind. For example, I heard the voice and and saw the text which said "take two steps to the left" so I did. a few seconds later a car turned a corner and blasted through where I stood a few seconds before. So I told this to a doctor and he asked for proof. Out of nowhere the voice said "move to the left" so I did and while I moved a brick fell through the ceiling and smashed into where I sat before. With the doctor being given amazing proof I was soon up graded to a 1. I have lately not been doing anything. But a massive war recently between my country and another. The voice spoke again "get out of here by tomorrow" so I told every one I knew to do so. The day after. My city was heavily bombed to near cinders, thank you universe. I guess. | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | The party was over. I half expected it to appear when I blew out the candles; my power, that is. Drat my luck that I was born so late in the day. I spent the afternoon, depressed, in my room. Supine on my bed, my eyes lazily scanned across my bedroom walls. Star Wars... Thor... Akira... The Matrix... Poster clad walls littered with all of my favorite films. Wasn't my Akira poster a Japanese reprint, though? I had to do a double take to believe my eyes. Those aren't English letters, but I can read them! My heart sank. I can read them.
All these years, I had wondered what fantastical thing I might be able to do once I turned 18. Lifting cars, flying through the air, heat vision, **HEAT VISION.** UGH! What do I end up with? Reading comprehension. I put on a movie to calm my mind. "Spirited Away." ...Well, at least I don't need subtitles anymore. That'll be interesting.
I sat on my bed for a few moments, trying to concentrate on the television, but there was a faint humming noise coming from the speakers. No... not the speakers... the television itself. And the computer. And the outlets. And the lights. The humming was everywhere. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my coat and wallet, heading for who knows where. Any place but here.
I shuffled down the sidewalk, hoping to take my mind off of my situation, but the humming followed me. Cellphone? Turn that off. Still humming. This can't be happening! I raised my hood to cover my ears. The fabric is humming! What is going on? My mind reeled, trying to grasp my situation. Super hearing? No, it can't be. You only get one power. The ringing is becoming deafening. **I wish it would stop.** *...silence...* Sweet, sweet silence. The hood of my jacket was gone. Where did it go? It was sewn to the jacket! That doesn't just happen, disappearing hoods, right? I closed my eyes in frustration. The sound of the humming from the hood filling my mind, I feel a weight on my head. The hood is back.
What am I? I retreated to a nearby tree, the humming of which was immeasurable. I pulled my coat over my head. I watched as the coat dissolved into thin air. This isn't possible. I concentrated on the humming of the oak. The tree melted away, revealing my jacket where it once stood. This humming, this frequency, seemed slightly different with each object I inspected. Rocks were too much for me to create, too many sounds, too indistinct, too hard to memorize. Money on the other hand, wasn't. I held a twenty dollar bill to my ear. Then I held a rock to my other ear and changed its pitch in my mind until they were the same. Forty dollars and no rock. ...This could be fun. | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | My powers was plain.
The scientific community categorized it as Universal Linguist.
The ability to read, and speak any language known to sentient life.
Ancient scriptures? Easy, though the changes in grammar sometimes made it annoying to rewrite. Especially the much older languages.
Those pictographs on a cave wall? Yeah, it was about hunting animals. With your male genitalia.
Riveting.
So I passed time, traveling around the world. I saw, and talked to the locals. I was able to gain protected passages through rather hostile lands. All for the ability to translate things for various people.
Museums and Collectors of archaeological treasures. Those paid some big bucks to transcribe.
Not enough to make me rich, but enough to jump around the globe.
A few hours jotting down the findings, and then a week or four in a country.
Not a bad lifestyle, but not exactly sustainable in the long run. How many artifacts where there? How many cared to pay to have it translated?
While others flew, or altered the very fabrics of reality, I could read and write.
It wasn’t the best, but it was mine for now.
As the sole known Universal Linguist, I had inadvertently cornered the market. No one else was offering services on custom translations.
At least I was making a neat scrapbook out of my projects. No one ever complained so long as I never referenced where I found said artifacts.
It was a journal of sorts. Proof of my existence.
—
Then I found it.
In the island nation of Japan.
A traditional Japanese esoteric system called Onmyodo. It meant ‘The Way of Yin and Yang’.
Mister Takahashi, current head and caretaker had a set of paper dolls. These heirlooms were handed down for almost two thousand years.
The Takahashi family was once an esteemed family of Onmyodo masters. Today they were a normal family by Japanese standards.
Mister Takahashi desired to see if I could exam the faded set of scriptures. They had were written in the 10th century. Hand crafted by most prominent head of the Takahashi clan.
The pay was good, and it was enough to let me stay in Japan for a full season. I said yes.
Like many collectors, and those who had heirloom pieces, the writing was rough. I could understand it, but chicken scribbles, was chicken scribbles.
I recreated the writing on another sheet. Then I double, triple, and quadruple checked it.
The language wasn’t quite Japanese, despite its resemblence on it. It was as if everything was a mash of Chinese, Japanese slang words.
The sentences had little addendums. They refered to the classic 5 elements, yin and yang, and the Heaven / Earth polarity.
The current head of the Takahashi clan, had provided special inks. A combination of human blood, and squid ink, to recreate the original scriptures.
It was slow. I couldn’t use a pen, as it was to thin. So each line had to required forethought and patience.
Brushes was the best tool, and I retraced the fine and rather delicate work.
It was lucky that newer, small brushes were easy to create and use. It must have been a nightmare for the ancient people to have to make precise tools back then.
The days melted and blurred as I work.
The design was both simple, yet intricate. Words overlapped at times, creating unique hybrids that could mean several things. Confusing, but with my powers, legible.
It was quite beautiful when I finished. The long set of commands that would empower, and grant false life to an object.
It was quite cute, the wording and imagination.
I refolded the paper. It was still somehow flexible despite its age.
The dozen paper dolls lined up. A nice display of the refreshed words. With how the sentences crisscrossed, it was less of a set of instructions, and more of a work of art.
Mister Takahashi smiled as he stared at the repaired dolls. In his hands was my payment. With a satisfied smile, he handed it over.
As a final joke, I gave the man the list of commands.
Fly.
Speak.
See.
Dance.
Empower. (Magic ritual via command seals)
Mister Takahashi laughed, and spoke the command to dance.
We stared, and they did not move.
We laughed.
The first doll stood up, and began to flex its limbs.
Our laughter died.
Then the second. The third.
The dozen dolls began to hover over the table I used across the two weeks for repairs.
They danced. They made jingling sounds that I had, at the time, thought odd. Now it made sense as they began to chime during pauses.
We stared as they finished their dance, and then laid down. Still as the day I saw them.
Mister Takahashi stared. Then teared up as his family’s legacy became vetted. They were not a family of frauds and tricksters. They held prominent titles and station for centuries.
As specialists doing great work, and great deeds.
I stared down at my hands.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
Universal Linguist wasn’t a D class power after all.
If I could do this with paper, then what else could I use?
The thought of metals, and other materials came to mind.
As did the vast stores of work I had done before.
Other ‘mystic’ systems. Norse. North American.
It was all there, in my journal.
Which had now included Japanese mysticism.
If those worked, and I began to combine them…
Wouldn’t I become something more.
I said my goodbyes to the shell shocked man.
With a skip in my step, I made my way down to my hotel.
I pulled out my phone, and began to look for other artifacts.
It was time to do some serious reading.
——— Author’s Corner ———
Thanks for reading.
I hope you enjoyed this simple story! | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Music. It always played around me. A little softer, a little louder. No one understood. Not the doctors, not the magopsychologists. The magic was in everyone who passed the threshold of adulthood, but no one got *two* gifts. So why was a translator like me hearing continual music?
**Force. Mass. Acceleration. Power. Resistance.**
It took a long time to understand. I was ninety-two, on my deathbed, smiling at my children and grandchildren. A second more and I would've gone. But she didn't want me to go.
**Heat, the velocity of smaller molecules. Behind the heat, energy, the ultimate cost behind everything. And behind the energy, ripples of space/time/matter that science has no name for.**
*♪ᶜʳᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵈᵒ. ᴬᶜᶜᵉˡᵉʳᵃⁿᵈᵒ.* ᴬⁿ ᴱ ᵐⁱⁿᵒʳ ˢᶜᵃˡᵉ, ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵇʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ *ᵖⁱᵃⁿⁱˢˢⁱᵐᵒ.*♫
Don't worry. Everything will be alright. I'm not-
#Dissonance.
###Gravity?
She speaks to m e. She speaks to m e. I love her.
𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂 𝑒.
#𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗.
𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎.
The comparison of the Universe to a computer was not accurate at all.
𝓢𝓞𝓜𝓔𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓝𝓖 𝓦𝓘𝓣𝓗𝓞𝓤𝓣 𝓐 𝓢𝓞𝓤𝓛 𝓒𝓞𝓤𝓛𝓓 𝓝𝓞𝓣 𝓑𝓔 𝓢𝓞 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓡𝓣𝓛𝓔𝓢𝓢.
...
Are you afraid of me now? I understand. I was afraid too.
L̲a̲n̲g̲u̲a̲g̲e̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲a̲ ̲c̲o̲n̲s̲t̲r̲u̲c̲t̲.̲ ̲I̲t̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲a̲ ̲d̲e̲s̲i̲g̲n̲ ̲t̲o̲ ̲m̲a̲k̲e̲ ̲c̲o̲m̲m̲u̲n̲i̲c̲a̲t̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲e̲a̲s̲i̲e̲r̲.̲ ̲I̲t̲ ̲d̲o̲e̲s̲ ̲n̲o̲t̲ ̲e̲x̲i̲s̲t̲ ̲u̲n̲l̲e̲s̲s̲ ̲s̲o̲m̲e̲o̲n̲e̲ ̲o̲r̲ ̲s̲o̲m̲e̲t̲h̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲w̲i̲s̲h̲e̲s̲ ̲t̲o̲ ̲s̲p̲e̲a̲k̲.̲
She was always there. You could feel it in every note, couldn't you? She sings to you. And she sings to me.
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣.
Don't shut her out. She loves you too, you know? You just have to listen and wait.
...
And wait.
...
You'll hear her, any moment now.
...
Please.
...
Please tell me you hear her too. | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Journal Entry 321, 4 days after my 18th, also known as the 'Big One'
People started to look at me funny. I haven't told them what I noticed this past weekend, when I was out in the garden without any shoes on. I stepped into a mound of soil by mistake and immediately my entire world went fuzzy and blank.
It was as if I was a guitar plugging into an amplifier, during that small window where the metal contacts send a buzz through the speaker. After collecting myself for several minutes, I still hadn't managed to figure out what that was supposed to be. With great apprehension (and some sick curiosity) I stuck my foot into the soil again. This time more slowly!
Now, slightly more prepared, this next attempt was... enlightening. For let me tell you! I had finally understood all that I had previously not. I placed my foot into the soil again, this time with some primal fervor. Yet again, oh my body!
It must have to do with this recent power, yes? Power of language? Am I speaking to the dead? No, that can't be. But it would explain the whole soil bit... I hadn't managed to be productive with this weird feeling yet - so I decided to yet again place my foot into the soil with an attempt to learn.
I placed my foot into the cold soil and left it there for what felt like ten minutes. After the initial shock of newly introduced stimuli, I finally figured it out. It's a message of some sort, that sounds very much like a whale underwater. No words- just rumbling, ticks, and echoes. It calls to me.
I've stopped wearing shoes. Everywhere i go, I place my foot into to see if there's any reaction of sorts and there isn't. I'm starting to wonder.
Journal Entry 322, 5 days passed -
I tried to tell the other students why I've been dirty and barefoot lately - it's because I'm able to talk to dead people; that's one facet of my new power! I just have to stick my feet into a mound of soil. Stacy was actually disgusted by my thought process, and she had zipped away on her broomstick. Sorry not everyone has as cool of a power as you, bitch.
Anyway, sigh .. I know this is a journal but that still felt weird to write. I'm done for now.
Journal Entry 324, 12 days passed -
I've ripped the last entry out and burned it. I had to. I wrote down too much and people are starting to get weird. I come home and place my feet into the soil, it's all I want to do. All answers come to me, and I can just ... decipher them. I'm not sure how to put it but I feel like a spider dancing on top of a complex web.
I've noticed that Stacy no longer looks at me, she brushes me off and pretends that I don't exist. That's fine, but at least tell me! Agh. I'm to quit this journal for now and go place my feet.
Journal Entry 325, 15 days passed -
LAST JOURNAL, NO TIME. THEY'RE COMING. STACY MUST HAVE RATTED ON ME. I WAS FAR TOO POWERFUL BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE DEAD. SHE DIDNT BELIEVE ME. IVE GONE AND PROVEN HER WRONG. I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH HER NOW.
Those were the last of Phil's journals. No one knows where he is. No one has seen Stacy. The school just got back the analysis report on Phil's mystic power profile. He wasn't talking to the dead, he was talking to something far greater... the universe.
As it stands, investigators have rummaged through all of his belongings. Nothing of use, aside from his journal and few damned bags of potting soil. | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | *I meditate upon the name of God*.
The shackles clung at my feet as they hoisted me upon the spire's execution dias. Throngs of people below sat uneasy, their emotions tense and yet restrained as a coiled cobra. Below, guardsmen formed a sentinel wall as we, the chosen sacrifices, were placed before the Emperor.
*And yet, I still meditate upon the name of God*.
Mages in their priestly vestments wove their arcane magics. Those of us who were to become 18 were methodically gathered to have our powers ripped asunder, and given unto the Emperor. This gift of his prevented society from collapsing inward, but left a hollow mark upon the souls of all within his lands. Any who swore pure, undying fealty were given the chance to serve and their powers restored, but with an oath enforced upon their will.
Like chains they would bind us to him eternally. Our freedom for our strength. Many made the choice, but I refused.
*And still, unflinchingly, I meditate upon the name of God who left this earth.*
To the throbbing crowds the mages offered a spectacle. Ritual combat between those with powers who refused to serve. I stood, red hair flowing so lightly, barely eighteen. What power did I possess. My opponent's hands crackled with lightning.
*Stop this*, I prayed. *Break these chains upon us.*
And so it happened, chains of loyalty undone and crackling magics dissipated. Mages once bonded, now free. Before the Imperial throne a new thing stirred...fear. | It was a bit past your 18th birthday when you went to the doctors. You knew that at 18 you would get your power so you were going to get a DNA test to find out what yours was. When the results came back you were disappointed to say the least. Your doctor explained to you that your power was that you could read, speak, or understand any language. So to put it in simple terms you were the greatest human translator. Now that normally would sound pretty cool and intresting but when you live in a society where some people can't get harmed, don't have to work, don't have to breathe, and some can't even die, having a power like yours is a dissapoinment. So you walk home with your head hung low and your hood up. Rain softly hit your back and cold air hit your face. You were walking down the quiet streat when you heard a small voice. "Hello human." Confused, you look around but see no one. "Umm. Who said that?" You hear the voice again. "Me. Who else would have said it?" You put your hand in your pocket. You prepare to pull out your pocket knife if you need to. "Whoever you are come out and show yourself. You're freaking me out." You see a small black cat jump up on a bench next to you. "I'm right here! Are you blind human!?" You answer the voice. "All I see here is a cat! Where are you?" "Have you really not put it together yet human! The cat is me!" You freeze for a second. "W-what? Th-that's not possable." You stare at the cat and it seems to be staring right back at you. "Yes it is. Anyways that's not the point. The point is that it's the middle of winter and I'm an ally cat in the rain. Can I please come home with you?" You've always been an animal lover and your apartment is really lonely so you nod yes. You start walking home and the little cat fallows. When you get home you dry him off with a little towle and give him some warm milk and a can of tuna that you have and start talking. "So uh what's your name?" The cat stops eating and jumps up next to you. "I don't actually have one but I've always liked Simon. What's yours?" "I'm Jake." The cat curled up in your lap and closed its eyes. "Well nice to meet you Jake and thank you for letting me stay here. You softly pet him and respond with "No problem." Over the next few months you learn more about Simon. He can be sassy and sarcastic but loves jokes and is really calm. He loves being near you and likes to be with you when you cook and likes to try the new foods you make. When you first got your power you thought with how bad it was it must be a curse but now that you have Simon in your life you could proudly say you are pretty sure it's a blessing.
(Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. This is my first time writting on here.) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Ok so. When I turned 18 my power manifested itself. I went to the doctor to get it registered and ranked. So I have a common ability, the doctors call it "the power of understanding" but even though it was common the doctors ranked me higher than any of translator had been ranked. Well the doctor said he couldn't tell me because of some legal reasons. So about now I should probably tell you how the power works, so unlike most of translators I don't just hear and under stand it. Most other translators are only able to under stand and speak but for them the language is no different they just under it, but for me well, when I talk to someone there speech patterns, language, and even accent changes into something that understand the best. But most interestingly the words they say would be put above them like a video game text box.
Well after a while of being considered a 4 scale super (the scale goes through 10 to 0 with 0 being the best of the best and 10 being the least useful powers) I found out something, whenever an event that I could have stopped happened I would here a voice and see the text seeming out of the wind. For example, I heard the voice and and saw the text which said "take two steps to the left" so I did. a few seconds later a car turned a corner and blasted through where I stood a few seconds before. So I told this to a doctor and he asked for proof. Out of nowhere the voice said "move to the left" so I did and while I moved a brick fell through the ceiling and smashed into where I sat before. With the doctor being given amazing proof I was soon up graded to a 1. I have lately not been doing anything. But a massive war recently between my country and another. The voice spoke again "get out of here by tomorrow" so I told every one I knew to do so. The day after. My city was heavily bombed to near cinders, thank you universe. I guess. | I guess I don't have much to do right now, nor do I mind the effort, so I'll tell you about how my life has been going up to right now.
It was clear early on that I had some sort of "language" ability. The doctor who was doing the checkup turned to his partner and began to speak in Spanish, something about "What is his schedule like?" before I interrupted and told him I was free this Friday.
Clearly, I had some grand language understanding, as later testing proved that I had become fluent in all languages.
"Language".
What a strange word, now that I think about it.
What is, a language? What does the ability to understand it mean?
Well to be literal, I suppose it means the ability to interpret the signals and contextual meanings of stimuli in order to create an idea of what the person, or object, is conveying.
It doesn't speak in what you would call a "language", per say...
*The Universe*, that is...
There isn't an alphabet or sentence structure really, nor is there really an idea to convey.
It's confusing to describe what it *speaks* as what it speaks is... well... *IS*.
For example, this wall, right here, in what you call a "Secure room". I can understand the, in lifeform terms, "language" it is speaking.
Atoms, molecules, quarks, gravity, magnetism, it's all a stage the so-called language uses to contextualize what it means.
For instance, this new hole in the wall. You can't seem to understand how I could communicate to the wall that I wish it to do that, can you? It's not difficult for me; the language of matter tends to be quite basic. If I could translate it would most likely be along the lines of "hold here unless otherwise". All it takes is a simple method of communication, in a lifeform's case a bizarre transfer of pure energy itself, to instruct these walls to just, move.
Or this object, you just attempted to launch at me. A simple "blob" of matter projected using condensed energy patterns. It's quite easy for me to translate that momentum energy to heat, or radiation, or even more matter such as air if I really wanted to.
I mean really; it's not that difficult. It may seem to you, kind sir, that your arms are incapable of moving or your legs cannot follow your commands, but I urge you to see it from my view; I am simply drowning out the other, ugh, this word again, "Languages" of the universe. Really, it's all quite simple.
If only you could speak to the forces going on inside you right now maybe you wouldn't be having such a bad time with them. Who knows?
Now, what were we talking about? I think I took a tangent somewhere back there. Agh, no matter.
Anyway, this interview has become tiresome. Speaking in your, ugh, LANGUAG- see I hate using this phrase; it's so.... "3rd dimensional". You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it's tedious for me, and frankly it's far too simple. I'm off to finish what I've started.
I can hear the power of the universe, it's pulse, it's speech, it's beautiful culture. And that's all I need to hear. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | The party was over. I half expected it to appear when I blew out the candles; my power, that is. Drat my luck that I was born so late in the day. I spent the afternoon, depressed, in my room. Supine on my bed, my eyes lazily scanned across my bedroom walls. Star Wars... Thor... Akira... The Matrix... Poster clad walls littered with all of my favorite films. Wasn't my Akira poster a Japanese reprint, though? I had to do a double take to believe my eyes. Those aren't English letters, but I can read them! My heart sank. I can read them.
All these years, I had wondered what fantastical thing I might be able to do once I turned 18. Lifting cars, flying through the air, heat vision, **HEAT VISION.** UGH! What do I end up with? Reading comprehension. I put on a movie to calm my mind. "Spirited Away." ...Well, at least I don't need subtitles anymore. That'll be interesting.
I sat on my bed for a few moments, trying to concentrate on the television, but there was a faint humming noise coming from the speakers. No... not the speakers... the television itself. And the computer. And the outlets. And the lights. The humming was everywhere. I had to get out of there. I grabbed my coat and wallet, heading for who knows where. Any place but here.
I shuffled down the sidewalk, hoping to take my mind off of my situation, but the humming followed me. Cellphone? Turn that off. Still humming. This can't be happening! I raised my hood to cover my ears. The fabric is humming! What is going on? My mind reeled, trying to grasp my situation. Super hearing? No, it can't be. You only get one power. The ringing is becoming deafening. **I wish it would stop.** *...silence...* Sweet, sweet silence. The hood of my jacket was gone. Where did it go? It was sewn to the jacket! That doesn't just happen, disappearing hoods, right? I closed my eyes in frustration. The sound of the humming from the hood filling my mind, I feel a weight on my head. The hood is back.
What am I? I retreated to a nearby tree, the humming of which was immeasurable. I pulled my coat over my head. I watched as the coat dissolved into thin air. This isn't possible. I concentrated on the humming of the oak. The tree melted away, revealing my jacket where it once stood. This humming, this frequency, seemed slightly different with each object I inspected. Rocks were too much for me to create, too many sounds, too indistinct, too hard to memorize. Money on the other hand, wasn't. I held a twenty dollar bill to my ear. Then I held a rock to my other ear and changed its pitch in my mind until they were the same. Forty dollars and no rock. ...This could be fun. | I guess I don't have much to do right now, nor do I mind the effort, so I'll tell you about how my life has been going up to right now.
It was clear early on that I had some sort of "language" ability. The doctor who was doing the checkup turned to his partner and began to speak in Spanish, something about "What is his schedule like?" before I interrupted and told him I was free this Friday.
Clearly, I had some grand language understanding, as later testing proved that I had become fluent in all languages.
"Language".
What a strange word, now that I think about it.
What is, a language? What does the ability to understand it mean?
Well to be literal, I suppose it means the ability to interpret the signals and contextual meanings of stimuli in order to create an idea of what the person, or object, is conveying.
It doesn't speak in what you would call a "language", per say...
*The Universe*, that is...
There isn't an alphabet or sentence structure really, nor is there really an idea to convey.
It's confusing to describe what it *speaks* as what it speaks is... well... *IS*.
For example, this wall, right here, in what you call a "Secure room". I can understand the, in lifeform terms, "language" it is speaking.
Atoms, molecules, quarks, gravity, magnetism, it's all a stage the so-called language uses to contextualize what it means.
For instance, this new hole in the wall. You can't seem to understand how I could communicate to the wall that I wish it to do that, can you? It's not difficult for me; the language of matter tends to be quite basic. If I could translate it would most likely be along the lines of "hold here unless otherwise". All it takes is a simple method of communication, in a lifeform's case a bizarre transfer of pure energy itself, to instruct these walls to just, move.
Or this object, you just attempted to launch at me. A simple "blob" of matter projected using condensed energy patterns. It's quite easy for me to translate that momentum energy to heat, or radiation, or even more matter such as air if I really wanted to.
I mean really; it's not that difficult. It may seem to you, kind sir, that your arms are incapable of moving or your legs cannot follow your commands, but I urge you to see it from my view; I am simply drowning out the other, ugh, this word again, "Languages" of the universe. Really, it's all quite simple.
If only you could speak to the forces going on inside you right now maybe you wouldn't be having such a bad time with them. Who knows?
Now, what were we talking about? I think I took a tangent somewhere back there. Agh, no matter.
Anyway, this interview has become tiresome. Speaking in your, ugh, LANGUAG- see I hate using this phrase; it's so.... "3rd dimensional". You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it's tedious for me, and frankly it's far too simple. I'm off to finish what I've started.
I can hear the power of the universe, it's pulse, it's speech, it's beautiful culture. And that's all I need to hear. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | My powers was plain.
The scientific community categorized it as Universal Linguist.
The ability to read, and speak any language known to sentient life.
Ancient scriptures? Easy, though the changes in grammar sometimes made it annoying to rewrite. Especially the much older languages.
Those pictographs on a cave wall? Yeah, it was about hunting animals. With your male genitalia.
Riveting.
So I passed time, traveling around the world. I saw, and talked to the locals. I was able to gain protected passages through rather hostile lands. All for the ability to translate things for various people.
Museums and Collectors of archaeological treasures. Those paid some big bucks to transcribe.
Not enough to make me rich, but enough to jump around the globe.
A few hours jotting down the findings, and then a week or four in a country.
Not a bad lifestyle, but not exactly sustainable in the long run. How many artifacts where there? How many cared to pay to have it translated?
While others flew, or altered the very fabrics of reality, I could read and write.
It wasn’t the best, but it was mine for now.
As the sole known Universal Linguist, I had inadvertently cornered the market. No one else was offering services on custom translations.
At least I was making a neat scrapbook out of my projects. No one ever complained so long as I never referenced where I found said artifacts.
It was a journal of sorts. Proof of my existence.
—
Then I found it.
In the island nation of Japan.
A traditional Japanese esoteric system called Onmyodo. It meant ‘The Way of Yin and Yang’.
Mister Takahashi, current head and caretaker had a set of paper dolls. These heirlooms were handed down for almost two thousand years.
The Takahashi family was once an esteemed family of Onmyodo masters. Today they were a normal family by Japanese standards.
Mister Takahashi desired to see if I could exam the faded set of scriptures. They had were written in the 10th century. Hand crafted by most prominent head of the Takahashi clan.
The pay was good, and it was enough to let me stay in Japan for a full season. I said yes.
Like many collectors, and those who had heirloom pieces, the writing was rough. I could understand it, but chicken scribbles, was chicken scribbles.
I recreated the writing on another sheet. Then I double, triple, and quadruple checked it.
The language wasn’t quite Japanese, despite its resemblence on it. It was as if everything was a mash of Chinese, Japanese slang words.
The sentences had little addendums. They refered to the classic 5 elements, yin and yang, and the Heaven / Earth polarity.
The current head of the Takahashi clan, had provided special inks. A combination of human blood, and squid ink, to recreate the original scriptures.
It was slow. I couldn’t use a pen, as it was to thin. So each line had to required forethought and patience.
Brushes was the best tool, and I retraced the fine and rather delicate work.
It was lucky that newer, small brushes were easy to create and use. It must have been a nightmare for the ancient people to have to make precise tools back then.
The days melted and blurred as I work.
The design was both simple, yet intricate. Words overlapped at times, creating unique hybrids that could mean several things. Confusing, but with my powers, legible.
It was quite beautiful when I finished. The long set of commands that would empower, and grant false life to an object.
It was quite cute, the wording and imagination.
I refolded the paper. It was still somehow flexible despite its age.
The dozen paper dolls lined up. A nice display of the refreshed words. With how the sentences crisscrossed, it was less of a set of instructions, and more of a work of art.
Mister Takahashi smiled as he stared at the repaired dolls. In his hands was my payment. With a satisfied smile, he handed it over.
As a final joke, I gave the man the list of commands.
Fly.
Speak.
See.
Dance.
Empower. (Magic ritual via command seals)
Mister Takahashi laughed, and spoke the command to dance.
We stared, and they did not move.
We laughed.
The first doll stood up, and began to flex its limbs.
Our laughter died.
Then the second. The third.
The dozen dolls began to hover over the table I used across the two weeks for repairs.
They danced. They made jingling sounds that I had, at the time, thought odd. Now it made sense as they began to chime during pauses.
We stared as they finished their dance, and then laid down. Still as the day I saw them.
Mister Takahashi stared. Then teared up as his family’s legacy became vetted. They were not a family of frauds and tricksters. They held prominent titles and station for centuries.
As specialists doing great work, and great deeds.
I stared down at my hands.
Maybe.
Just maybe.
Universal Linguist wasn’t a D class power after all.
If I could do this with paper, then what else could I use?
The thought of metals, and other materials came to mind.
As did the vast stores of work I had done before.
Other ‘mystic’ systems. Norse. North American.
It was all there, in my journal.
Which had now included Japanese mysticism.
If those worked, and I began to combine them…
Wouldn’t I become something more.
I said my goodbyes to the shell shocked man.
With a skip in my step, I made my way down to my hotel.
I pulled out my phone, and began to look for other artifacts.
It was time to do some serious reading.
——— Author’s Corner ———
Thanks for reading.
I hope you enjoyed this simple story! | I guess I don't have much to do right now, nor do I mind the effort, so I'll tell you about how my life has been going up to right now.
It was clear early on that I had some sort of "language" ability. The doctor who was doing the checkup turned to his partner and began to speak in Spanish, something about "What is his schedule like?" before I interrupted and told him I was free this Friday.
Clearly, I had some grand language understanding, as later testing proved that I had become fluent in all languages.
"Language".
What a strange word, now that I think about it.
What is, a language? What does the ability to understand it mean?
Well to be literal, I suppose it means the ability to interpret the signals and contextual meanings of stimuli in order to create an idea of what the person, or object, is conveying.
It doesn't speak in what you would call a "language", per say...
*The Universe*, that is...
There isn't an alphabet or sentence structure really, nor is there really an idea to convey.
It's confusing to describe what it *speaks* as what it speaks is... well... *IS*.
For example, this wall, right here, in what you call a "Secure room". I can understand the, in lifeform terms, "language" it is speaking.
Atoms, molecules, quarks, gravity, magnetism, it's all a stage the so-called language uses to contextualize what it means.
For instance, this new hole in the wall. You can't seem to understand how I could communicate to the wall that I wish it to do that, can you? It's not difficult for me; the language of matter tends to be quite basic. If I could translate it would most likely be along the lines of "hold here unless otherwise". All it takes is a simple method of communication, in a lifeform's case a bizarre transfer of pure energy itself, to instruct these walls to just, move.
Or this object, you just attempted to launch at me. A simple "blob" of matter projected using condensed energy patterns. It's quite easy for me to translate that momentum energy to heat, or radiation, or even more matter such as air if I really wanted to.
I mean really; it's not that difficult. It may seem to you, kind sir, that your arms are incapable of moving or your legs cannot follow your commands, but I urge you to see it from my view; I am simply drowning out the other, ugh, this word again, "Languages" of the universe. Really, it's all quite simple.
If only you could speak to the forces going on inside you right now maybe you wouldn't be having such a bad time with them. Who knows?
Now, what were we talking about? I think I took a tangent somewhere back there. Agh, no matter.
Anyway, this interview has become tiresome. Speaking in your, ugh, LANGUAG- see I hate using this phrase; it's so.... "3rd dimensional". You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it's tedious for me, and frankly it's far too simple. I'm off to finish what I've started.
I can hear the power of the universe, it's pulse, it's speech, it's beautiful culture. And that's all I need to hear. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Journal Entry 321, 4 days after my 18th, also known as the 'Big One'
People started to look at me funny. I haven't told them what I noticed this past weekend, when I was out in the garden without any shoes on. I stepped into a mound of soil by mistake and immediately my entire world went fuzzy and blank.
It was as if I was a guitar plugging into an amplifier, during that small window where the metal contacts send a buzz through the speaker. After collecting myself for several minutes, I still hadn't managed to figure out what that was supposed to be. With great apprehension (and some sick curiosity) I stuck my foot into the soil again. This time more slowly!
Now, slightly more prepared, this next attempt was... enlightening. For let me tell you! I had finally understood all that I had previously not. I placed my foot into the soil again, this time with some primal fervor. Yet again, oh my body!
It must have to do with this recent power, yes? Power of language? Am I speaking to the dead? No, that can't be. But it would explain the whole soil bit... I hadn't managed to be productive with this weird feeling yet - so I decided to yet again place my foot into the soil with an attempt to learn.
I placed my foot into the cold soil and left it there for what felt like ten minutes. After the initial shock of newly introduced stimuli, I finally figured it out. It's a message of some sort, that sounds very much like a whale underwater. No words- just rumbling, ticks, and echoes. It calls to me.
I've stopped wearing shoes. Everywhere i go, I place my foot into to see if there's any reaction of sorts and there isn't. I'm starting to wonder.
Journal Entry 322, 5 days passed -
I tried to tell the other students why I've been dirty and barefoot lately - it's because I'm able to talk to dead people; that's one facet of my new power! I just have to stick my feet into a mound of soil. Stacy was actually disgusted by my thought process, and she had zipped away on her broomstick. Sorry not everyone has as cool of a power as you, bitch.
Anyway, sigh .. I know this is a journal but that still felt weird to write. I'm done for now.
Journal Entry 324, 12 days passed -
I've ripped the last entry out and burned it. I had to. I wrote down too much and people are starting to get weird. I come home and place my feet into the soil, it's all I want to do. All answers come to me, and I can just ... decipher them. I'm not sure how to put it but I feel like a spider dancing on top of a complex web.
I've noticed that Stacy no longer looks at me, she brushes me off and pretends that I don't exist. That's fine, but at least tell me! Agh. I'm to quit this journal for now and go place my feet.
Journal Entry 325, 15 days passed -
LAST JOURNAL, NO TIME. THEY'RE COMING. STACY MUST HAVE RATTED ON ME. I WAS FAR TOO POWERFUL BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE DEAD. SHE DIDNT BELIEVE ME. IVE GONE AND PROVEN HER WRONG. I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH HER NOW.
Those were the last of Phil's journals. No one knows where he is. No one has seen Stacy. The school just got back the analysis report on Phil's mystic power profile. He wasn't talking to the dead, he was talking to something far greater... the universe.
As it stands, investigators have rummaged through all of his belongings. Nothing of use, aside from his journal and few damned bags of potting soil. | I guess I don't have much to do right now, nor do I mind the effort, so I'll tell you about how my life has been going up to right now.
It was clear early on that I had some sort of "language" ability. The doctor who was doing the checkup turned to his partner and began to speak in Spanish, something about "What is his schedule like?" before I interrupted and told him I was free this Friday.
Clearly, I had some grand language understanding, as later testing proved that I had become fluent in all languages.
"Language".
What a strange word, now that I think about it.
What is, a language? What does the ability to understand it mean?
Well to be literal, I suppose it means the ability to interpret the signals and contextual meanings of stimuli in order to create an idea of what the person, or object, is conveying.
It doesn't speak in what you would call a "language", per say...
*The Universe*, that is...
There isn't an alphabet or sentence structure really, nor is there really an idea to convey.
It's confusing to describe what it *speaks* as what it speaks is... well... *IS*.
For example, this wall, right here, in what you call a "Secure room". I can understand the, in lifeform terms, "language" it is speaking.
Atoms, molecules, quarks, gravity, magnetism, it's all a stage the so-called language uses to contextualize what it means.
For instance, this new hole in the wall. You can't seem to understand how I could communicate to the wall that I wish it to do that, can you? It's not difficult for me; the language of matter tends to be quite basic. If I could translate it would most likely be along the lines of "hold here unless otherwise". All it takes is a simple method of communication, in a lifeform's case a bizarre transfer of pure energy itself, to instruct these walls to just, move.
Or this object, you just attempted to launch at me. A simple "blob" of matter projected using condensed energy patterns. It's quite easy for me to translate that momentum energy to heat, or radiation, or even more matter such as air if I really wanted to.
I mean really; it's not that difficult. It may seem to you, kind sir, that your arms are incapable of moving or your legs cannot follow your commands, but I urge you to see it from my view; I am simply drowning out the other, ugh, this word again, "Languages" of the universe. Really, it's all quite simple.
If only you could speak to the forces going on inside you right now maybe you wouldn't be having such a bad time with them. Who knows?
Now, what were we talking about? I think I took a tangent somewhere back there. Agh, no matter.
Anyway, this interview has become tiresome. Speaking in your, ugh, LANGUAG- see I hate using this phrase; it's so.... "3rd dimensional". You wouldn't understand. Anyway, it's tedious for me, and frankly it's far too simple. I'm off to finish what I've started.
I can hear the power of the universe, it's pulse, it's speech, it's beautiful culture. And that's all I need to hear. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Journal Entry 321, 4 days after my 18th, also known as the 'Big One'
People started to look at me funny. I haven't told them what I noticed this past weekend, when I was out in the garden without any shoes on. I stepped into a mound of soil by mistake and immediately my entire world went fuzzy and blank.
It was as if I was a guitar plugging into an amplifier, during that small window where the metal contacts send a buzz through the speaker. After collecting myself for several minutes, I still hadn't managed to figure out what that was supposed to be. With great apprehension (and some sick curiosity) I stuck my foot into the soil again. This time more slowly!
Now, slightly more prepared, this next attempt was... enlightening. For let me tell you! I had finally understood all that I had previously not. I placed my foot into the soil again, this time with some primal fervor. Yet again, oh my body!
It must have to do with this recent power, yes? Power of language? Am I speaking to the dead? No, that can't be. But it would explain the whole soil bit... I hadn't managed to be productive with this weird feeling yet - so I decided to yet again place my foot into the soil with an attempt to learn.
I placed my foot into the cold soil and left it there for what felt like ten minutes. After the initial shock of newly introduced stimuli, I finally figured it out. It's a message of some sort, that sounds very much like a whale underwater. No words- just rumbling, ticks, and echoes. It calls to me.
I've stopped wearing shoes. Everywhere i go, I place my foot into to see if there's any reaction of sorts and there isn't. I'm starting to wonder.
Journal Entry 322, 5 days passed -
I tried to tell the other students why I've been dirty and barefoot lately - it's because I'm able to talk to dead people; that's one facet of my new power! I just have to stick my feet into a mound of soil. Stacy was actually disgusted by my thought process, and she had zipped away on her broomstick. Sorry not everyone has as cool of a power as you, bitch.
Anyway, sigh .. I know this is a journal but that still felt weird to write. I'm done for now.
Journal Entry 324, 12 days passed -
I've ripped the last entry out and burned it. I had to. I wrote down too much and people are starting to get weird. I come home and place my feet into the soil, it's all I want to do. All answers come to me, and I can just ... decipher them. I'm not sure how to put it but I feel like a spider dancing on top of a complex web.
I've noticed that Stacy no longer looks at me, she brushes me off and pretends that I don't exist. That's fine, but at least tell me! Agh. I'm to quit this journal for now and go place my feet.
Journal Entry 325, 15 days passed -
LAST JOURNAL, NO TIME. THEY'RE COMING. STACY MUST HAVE RATTED ON ME. I WAS FAR TOO POWERFUL BEING ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH THE DEAD. SHE DIDNT BELIEVE ME. IVE GONE AND PROVEN HER WRONG. I CAN COMMUNICATE WITH HER NOW.
Those were the last of Phil's journals. No one knows where he is. No one has seen Stacy. The school just got back the analysis report on Phil's mystic power profile. He wasn't talking to the dead, he was talking to something far greater... the universe.
As it stands, investigators have rummaged through all of his belongings. Nothing of use, aside from his journal and few damned bags of potting soil. | Ok so. When I turned 18 my power manifested itself. I went to the doctor to get it registered and ranked. So I have a common ability, the doctors call it "the power of understanding" but even though it was common the doctors ranked me higher than any of translator had been ranked. Well the doctor said he couldn't tell me because of some legal reasons. So about now I should probably tell you how the power works, so unlike most of translators I don't just hear and under stand it. Most other translators are only able to under stand and speak but for them the language is no different they just under it, but for me well, when I talk to someone there speech patterns, language, and even accent changes into something that understand the best. But most interestingly the words they say would be put above them like a video game text box.
Well after a while of being considered a 4 scale super (the scale goes through 10 to 0 with 0 being the best of the best and 10 being the least useful powers) I found out something, whenever an event that I could have stopped happened I would here a voice and see the text seeming out of the wind. For example, I heard the voice and and saw the text which said "take two steps to the left" so I did. a few seconds later a car turned a corner and blasted through where I stood a few seconds before. So I told this to a doctor and he asked for proof. Out of nowhere the voice said "move to the left" so I did and while I moved a brick fell through the ceiling and smashed into where I sat before. With the doctor being given amazing proof I was soon up graded to a 1. I have lately not been doing anything. But a massive war recently between my country and another. The voice spoke again "get out of here by tomorrow" so I told every one I knew to do so. The day after. My city was heavily bombed to near cinders, thank you universe. I guess. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | *I meditate upon the name of God*.
The shackles clung at my feet as they hoisted me upon the spire's execution dias. Throngs of people below sat uneasy, their emotions tense and yet restrained as a coiled cobra. Below, guardsmen formed a sentinel wall as we, the chosen sacrifices, were placed before the Emperor.
*And yet, I still meditate upon the name of God*.
Mages in their priestly vestments wove their arcane magics. Those of us who were to become 18 were methodically gathered to have our powers ripped asunder, and given unto the Emperor. This gift of his prevented society from collapsing inward, but left a hollow mark upon the souls of all within his lands. Any who swore pure, undying fealty were given the chance to serve and their powers restored, but with an oath enforced upon their will.
Like chains they would bind us to him eternally. Our freedom for our strength. Many made the choice, but I refused.
*And still, unflinchingly, I meditate upon the name of God who left this earth.*
To the throbbing crowds the mages offered a spectacle. Ritual combat between those with powers who refused to serve. I stood, red hair flowing so lightly, barely eighteen. What power did I possess. My opponent's hands crackled with lightning.
*Stop this*, I prayed. *Break these chains upon us.*
And so it happened, chains of loyalty undone and crackling magics dissipated. Mages once bonded, now free. Before the Imperial throne a new thing stirred...fear. | Music. It always played around me. A little softer, a little louder. No one understood. Not the doctors, not the magopsychologists. The magic was in everyone who passed the threshold of adulthood, but no one got *two* gifts. So why was a translator like me hearing continual music?
**Force. Mass. Acceleration. Power. Resistance.**
It took a long time to understand. I was ninety-two, on my deathbed, smiling at my children and grandchildren. A second more and I would've gone. But she didn't want me to go.
**Heat, the velocity of smaller molecules. Behind the heat, energy, the ultimate cost behind everything. And behind the energy, ripples of space/time/matter that science has no name for.**
*♪ᶜʳᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵈᵒ. ᴬᶜᶜᵉˡᵉʳᵃⁿᵈᵒ.* ᴬⁿ ᴱ ᵐⁱⁿᵒʳ ˢᶜᵃˡᵉ, ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵉᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵇʳᵉ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ *ᵖⁱᵃⁿⁱˢˢⁱᵐᵒ.*♫
Don't worry. Everything will be alright. I'm not-
#Dissonance.
###Gravity?
She speaks to m e. She speaks to m e. I love her.
𝒮𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓀𝓈 𝓉𝑜 𝓂 𝑒.
#𝕴 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖍𝖊𝖗.
𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎.
The comparison of the Universe to a computer was not accurate at all.
𝓢𝓞𝓜𝓔𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓝𝓖 𝓦𝓘𝓣𝓗𝓞𝓤𝓣 𝓐 𝓢𝓞𝓤𝓛 𝓒𝓞𝓤𝓛𝓓 𝓝𝓞𝓣 𝓑𝓔 𝓢𝓞 𝓗𝓔𝓐𝓡𝓣𝓛𝓔𝓢𝓢.
...
Are you afraid of me now? I understand. I was afraid too.
L̲a̲n̲g̲u̲a̲g̲e̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲a̲ ̲c̲o̲n̲s̲t̲r̲u̲c̲t̲.̲ ̲I̲t̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲a̲ ̲d̲e̲s̲i̲g̲n̲ ̲t̲o̲ ̲m̲a̲k̲e̲ ̲c̲o̲m̲m̲u̲n̲i̲c̲a̲t̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲e̲a̲s̲i̲e̲r̲.̲ ̲I̲t̲ ̲d̲o̲e̲s̲ ̲n̲o̲t̲ ̲e̲x̲i̲s̲t̲ ̲u̲n̲l̲e̲s̲s̲ ̲s̲o̲m̲e̲o̲n̲e̲ ̲o̲r̲ ̲s̲o̲m̲e̲t̲h̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲w̲i̲s̲h̲e̲s̲ ̲t̲o̲ ̲s̲p̲e̲a̲k̲.̲
She was always there. You could feel it in every note, couldn't you? She sings to you. And she sings to me.
𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕙𝕖𝕣.
Don't shut her out. She loves you too, you know? You just have to listen and wait.
...
And wait.
...
You'll hear her, any moment now.
...
Please.
...
Please tell me you hear her too. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | \*First attempt ever! Just felt like it.\*
My mom was fuming. She felt indignant, as if I had been cheated of a birthright. So eldest sis can fly, Paloma's daughters could regenerate or destroy tissue at will (they were great doctors, one as a general practitioner, the other the best oncologist in the country), and I got languages. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of pity and commiseration. As for me, the only thing that really pissed me off was the time I had spent learning English as a second language and the hiragana characters from Japanese. Had I known this was going to be my power, I would have devoted all the time I spent on English classes to the gym and waited patiently without looking at the kanas. But one never knows what it's going to be, right?
After a few days of complaining to the cosmos and whoever wanted to hear her and a pair of visits to the doctor, Mom's anger and frustration started to rub on me and I was getting annoyed. I loved learning languages and was only sorry that I hadn't had time to learn as many as I had wanted. Frankly, it was great to be able to understand Japanese without enduring learning kanjis and radicals one by one. I had to convince my Mom I'd become a great writer or diplomat or politician for her to calm down. The fact that the government did call me because they needed me from time to time in intelligence helped a lot. I just took the chance to get my hands onto every single book and comic I had ever wanted. It took me a bit more to realize that all songs and movies worldwide were available to me as they'd never been before.
It was because I spent months reading truckloads of manga, manwha and some of my favourite authors in their original languages (Ende, Sapkowski, Mournier, every poet ever...), listening to music and watching obscure TV series and movies that it took time to realize the extent of my power.
A language is not only a batch of sounds or jots on paper, papyrus or stone, defining a concept. A language is a vision of the world, and it's intrinsically tied to its culture and history. That's why the British won't do something for all the tea in China, but the Spanish won't do something for all the gold in the world (por todo el oro del mundo). The car has no gender in English, but it's masculine in Spanish and feminine in French. Other languages have neutral pronouns and adjectives and... I could go on and on. The languages, by nature, came with vast amounts of historical and geographical knowledge. I had heard of the town of Aquisgrán, and now I knew it was Aachen. Maps were suddenly much easier to understand, because I knew, if only by their language relationship, a lot of the stuff in them. I felt overwhelmed with all the new things I could now do... reading has always been for me like entering someone else's mind, and suddently thousands and thousands of minds were available for me to meet. As long as a language had a living speaker, I knew it. This wasn't always a blessing. I had to suffer the loss when the last nonagenarian woman to speak an indigenous language died. I felt the erasure of her view of the world... the places, the flowers, the people... they had somehow been in my head and suddenly stopped making sense. I cried my heart out that night, and the native Esperanto speakers or the few fluent Klingons didn't compensate for it.
I need to explain this because it's hard to see why it took me such a long time to realize all my power entailed. I found that I had lost all my inability at Maths by pure chance, trying to guess which of two packets of something was cheaper by the kilo at the supermarket. I guess it makes sense, since the universe is written in maths. I had been so immersed in all the new languages I had found that I certainly hadn't thought about going back to the subject I used to be the worst at. I was now a genius at something, and knowing feels good. So when I realized I understood Maths as if it were my native tongue, I was so blown out that there weren't enough hours in the day for me to read and watch and do everything I could on the subject. I felt blessed by Athena... and all goddesses of knowledge who had a name in any language.
Still the greatest treasure was yet to be found. It was the astrophysics professor at one of the universities that had opened their doors wide for me that noticed when he asked about a star in an easily recognized map. It was Sirius, which I named as Sirius... and all its other names. I started listing names, went on for a while and then I continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued. At this point, the students were looking at me funny, and questioningly at the professor. I was also curious about when he'd stop me, but he didn't and I took it as a challenge, waiting to see where this went. It was one student that eventually interrupted: 'Do we really need all those many names?'
The professor smiled knowingly, and answered: 'Do we?' Two or three students raised their hands. The professor pointed at one. 'She has used more names than living languages exist in the planet right now. Some of those names are not from Earth'. Another guy went on immediately after her: 'And I must add that A LOT of living languages today call Sirius either Sirius or Canis Maioris. That star doesn't have that many names that we know of, so...'
''So...?' Said the teacher, with a beaming smile, looking at me as a child looks at his presents on Christmas day. I swallowed and suddenly realized how the name of the star meant different things to different civilizations, according to different cultures, different geographies... different skies. It was then and there that it struck me: not all of them were human.
​
Mom got her wish, after all. My power is super important. Teachers had to help me get a lot of the info out of my brain, but it helped with the tokamak design fusion reactor. And with the faster than light travel, though it's not really travel, but more like spacetime folding (it's very hard to describe in any earthling language). It also helped with what was needed for the neurological upgrades required to understand a lot of what I knew. I got them, too. I could write all the Maths in the cosmos correctly, but I just didn't understand them. It was funny: at a certain point I could read and write anything Maths correctly but wasn't able to explain what it meant. At the beginning, my Maths needed translators. We then arrived to the point where most mathematicians and physicists didn't understand what I wrote anymore, and they had to use what I had given them to boost their intelligence to be able to. You should have seen what that did to research in medicine. Raising the empathy of psychopaths was easy, and a priority. Raising the empathy and intelligence for everyone wasn't. Goverments didn't want it to happen, but give a bunch of scientists the ability to creat brain-repairing nanos and try to tell them not to use them to increase empathy or intelligence. I mean, those in power did try. They were the first ones to reward the stray scientists. Democracy is different now. The main decision makers are chosen by a random lottery. Most people are ethically and intellectually qualified, and if they weren't, they could be upgraded for the job.
Once the brain-scan has been perfected so humankind can get all the info in my head, I'll be able to leave my cage (OK, it's a palace complex with a forest-sized garden, but I still haven't been allowed to leave in decades).
When I do, I'm going to read all the writings, listen to all the music and recite all the poetry in the world. I'll look at all the paintings and all the sculptures and everything... By the time I'm done, I'll move to other worlds.
I love my Mom, but seriously, she was wrong. I wouldn't change my gift for anyone's, ever. | I never realized how my ability to learn every language alive would change my life forever. At first I thought it was a curse, my best friend has the ability to run faster than light, another has super strength. And what did I have? Some dumb ability to learn languages.
I hid away from the world, shamed and embarrassed by this “gift”. I wanted to isolate myself, all these languages in my head, one day my thoughts were in French, another Fairwalq, another Welsh. It was in this isolation, where I desperately tried to get away from the deafening cacophony of words and whispers, that I began to hear something else. Something deep, ancient and foreboding. Almost instantaneously, I understood what it was saying. It was a beautiful language, deep and rich with emotion, but hued with sorrow and sadness. **Isolation** “I am alone” it said to me.
The words seemed to come from everywhere, but nowhere at once, it confused me. “Where are you?” I asked it. “Here” it whispered back to me. “Where is here?” I asked in return. “Everywhere, I am all of time and space and matter, I am the tear that rolls down your cheek when you cry, I am you, your grandfather, and your granddaughter. I am everything that ever existed an everything that will exist”
“So you’re everything?” I asked
“I am the universe” it replied
Silence filled the room.
“Why are you sad?” I asked
“I am alone, I am stretched thin by time and space, my children have forgotten how to communicate with me, I have been alone for billions of years”
“Were you ever not alone?” I replied
“Once, at the beginning, everyone was here, everyone was with me, it was so beautiful....” it trailed off
“Can you show me?” I asked
I felt it thinking, and then suddenly, I was being catapulted, pulled through space and time, back to a place of... warmth? But space is cold. “No, it wasn’t always” it replied. I looked around me and saw little specks flying around. “What are those I asked?”
“Those are what your scientists would call quarks, they are my children, they are you”
“Can you help me?I can’t handle all the voices, they deafen me.” I begged
“I thought you’d never ask” it replied
Upon those words, I began to feel warmth flowing through my body, I reached my arms out and they began to expand, my body began to stretch reaching not just thru space, but through time as well. Millions and billions of years began to pass through my eyes, I felt the quarks inside my body begin to radiate warmth. I opened my eyes, and was no longer in my room, I was everywhere, and right next to me, was the universe I had come from. All of the voices were gone too. My mind was at peace. A voice gently whispered to me:
“Welcome to the multiverse, friend” |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | *Jacob woke up in the morning; he was happy for once, it was his birthday. His 18th birthday to be exact, and his gift was something a little... unexpected...*
“What the actual fuck-“
(Insert obnoxious moaning here)
“DAVID! ARE YOU JACKING OFF WITHOUT HEADPHONES AGAIN?”
“Son of a bitch I’m gonna-“
“HEY! We’re in the middle of something!!”
“WHOS THERE?”
Jacob turned around and saw two plants. They didn’t move but somehow he could understand them.
“YEAH YOU- WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF POLLINATION”
“Am I talking to a goddamn plant?”
Jacob thought that he had too much to drink last night- or somebody slipped him some acid... who knows?
“shit- I’m talking to a plant-“
“PLANT-S”
“Babe- he doesn’t know yet-“
“Okay listen, you’re a omnicomunitongue-
I know, shitty name-
It means you can speak to any living thing. Including but not limited to, plants, animals, and the universe itself”
“Yup I’m high- well, might as well make the most of it..”
“You’re not, but okay-“
“Shut up-“
“O SHIT- JAKE GIVE ME MY FUCKING BREAKFAST-“
“Great, my cat is talking too-“
“Hey capital f Fuck you too.“
Good god. My thumbs hurt
(Obligatory mobile apology here)
First try so please go easy on me | The realization of the true horror of the universal language come upon me slowly.
At first I assumed it was an error, the kind I had seen innumerable times before on the outer worlds, in the triplamine dens, on the Reddit. But this one was persistent, consistent, dare I say it - insistent - in its rejection of all that was pure and true in life. My power had opened me to a truth that was expansive and breathtaking, and utterly terrifying - the universe had a language where an apostrophe was added to “its” when the word’s intention was to indicate possession, and the word “you” was randomly doubled in flagrant disregard of semantic convention.
When English speakers did it on the internet, it sickened me. When the universe itself did it, it was more than a being could bear - it was nothing less than proof that our very existence had at its core a dark, festering kernel of evil.
As the blood, released from the meaningless shell of my body by my own hand, cut rivers of crimson across the floor, I prayed that the next world would hold no such revelations. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | \*First attempt ever! Just felt like it.\*
My mom was fuming. She felt indignant, as if I had been cheated of a birthright. So eldest sis can fly, Paloma's daughters could regenerate or destroy tissue at will (they were great doctors, one as a general practitioner, the other the best oncologist in the country), and I got languages. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of pity and commiseration. As for me, the only thing that really pissed me off was the time I had spent learning English as a second language and the hiragana characters from Japanese. Had I known this was going to be my power, I would have devoted all the time I spent on English classes to the gym and waited patiently without looking at the kanas. But one never knows what it's going to be, right?
After a few days of complaining to the cosmos and whoever wanted to hear her and a pair of visits to the doctor, Mom's anger and frustration started to rub on me and I was getting annoyed. I loved learning languages and was only sorry that I hadn't had time to learn as many as I had wanted. Frankly, it was great to be able to understand Japanese without enduring learning kanjis and radicals one by one. I had to convince my Mom I'd become a great writer or diplomat or politician for her to calm down. The fact that the government did call me because they needed me from time to time in intelligence helped a lot. I just took the chance to get my hands onto every single book and comic I had ever wanted. It took me a bit more to realize that all songs and movies worldwide were available to me as they'd never been before.
It was because I spent months reading truckloads of manga, manwha and some of my favourite authors in their original languages (Ende, Sapkowski, Mournier, every poet ever...), listening to music and watching obscure TV series and movies that it took time to realize the extent of my power.
A language is not only a batch of sounds or jots on paper, papyrus or stone, defining a concept. A language is a vision of the world, and it's intrinsically tied to its culture and history. That's why the British won't do something for all the tea in China, but the Spanish won't do something for all the gold in the world (por todo el oro del mundo). The car has no gender in English, but it's masculine in Spanish and feminine in French. Other languages have neutral pronouns and adjectives and... I could go on and on. The languages, by nature, came with vast amounts of historical and geographical knowledge. I had heard of the town of Aquisgrán, and now I knew it was Aachen. Maps were suddenly much easier to understand, because I knew, if only by their language relationship, a lot of the stuff in them. I felt overwhelmed with all the new things I could now do... reading has always been for me like entering someone else's mind, and suddently thousands and thousands of minds were available for me to meet. As long as a language had a living speaker, I knew it. This wasn't always a blessing. I had to suffer the loss when the last nonagenarian woman to speak an indigenous language died. I felt the erasure of her view of the world... the places, the flowers, the people... they had somehow been in my head and suddenly stopped making sense. I cried my heart out that night, and the native Esperanto speakers or the few fluent Klingons didn't compensate for it.
I need to explain this because it's hard to see why it took me such a long time to realize all my power entailed. I found that I had lost all my inability at Maths by pure chance, trying to guess which of two packets of something was cheaper by the kilo at the supermarket. I guess it makes sense, since the universe is written in maths. I had been so immersed in all the new languages I had found that I certainly hadn't thought about going back to the subject I used to be the worst at. I was now a genius at something, and knowing feels good. So when I realized I understood Maths as if it were my native tongue, I was so blown out that there weren't enough hours in the day for me to read and watch and do everything I could on the subject. I felt blessed by Athena... and all goddesses of knowledge who had a name in any language.
Still the greatest treasure was yet to be found. It was the astrophysics professor at one of the universities that had opened their doors wide for me that noticed when he asked about a star in an easily recognized map. It was Sirius, which I named as Sirius... and all its other names. I started listing names, went on for a while and then I continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued. At this point, the students were looking at me funny, and questioningly at the professor. I was also curious about when he'd stop me, but he didn't and I took it as a challenge, waiting to see where this went. It was one student that eventually interrupted: 'Do we really need all those many names?'
The professor smiled knowingly, and answered: 'Do we?' Two or three students raised their hands. The professor pointed at one. 'She has used more names than living languages exist in the planet right now. Some of those names are not from Earth'. Another guy went on immediately after her: 'And I must add that A LOT of living languages today call Sirius either Sirius or Canis Maioris. That star doesn't have that many names that we know of, so...'
''So...?' Said the teacher, with a beaming smile, looking at me as a child looks at his presents on Christmas day. I swallowed and suddenly realized how the name of the star meant different things to different civilizations, according to different cultures, different geographies... different skies. It was then and there that it struck me: not all of them were human.
​
Mom got her wish, after all. My power is super important. Teachers had to help me get a lot of the info out of my brain, but it helped with the tokamak design fusion reactor. And with the faster than light travel, though it's not really travel, but more like spacetime folding (it's very hard to describe in any earthling language). It also helped with what was needed for the neurological upgrades required to understand a lot of what I knew. I got them, too. I could write all the Maths in the cosmos correctly, but I just didn't understand them. It was funny: at a certain point I could read and write anything Maths correctly but wasn't able to explain what it meant. At the beginning, my Maths needed translators. We then arrived to the point where most mathematicians and physicists didn't understand what I wrote anymore, and they had to use what I had given them to boost their intelligence to be able to. You should have seen what that did to research in medicine. Raising the empathy of psychopaths was easy, and a priority. Raising the empathy and intelligence for everyone wasn't. Goverments didn't want it to happen, but give a bunch of scientists the ability to creat brain-repairing nanos and try to tell them not to use them to increase empathy or intelligence. I mean, those in power did try. They were the first ones to reward the stray scientists. Democracy is different now. The main decision makers are chosen by a random lottery. Most people are ethically and intellectually qualified, and if they weren't, they could be upgraded for the job.
Once the brain-scan has been perfected so humankind can get all the info in my head, I'll be able to leave my cage (OK, it's a palace complex with a forest-sized garden, but I still haven't been allowed to leave in decades).
When I do, I'm going to read all the writings, listen to all the music and recite all the poetry in the world. I'll look at all the paintings and all the sculptures and everything... By the time I'm done, I'll move to other worlds.
I love my Mom, but seriously, she was wrong. I wouldn't change my gift for anyone's, ever. | The realization of the true horror of the universal language come upon me slowly.
At first I assumed it was an error, the kind I had seen innumerable times before on the outer worlds, in the triplamine dens, on the Reddit. But this one was persistent, consistent, dare I say it - insistent - in its rejection of all that was pure and true in life. My power had opened me to a truth that was expansive and breathtaking, and utterly terrifying - the universe had a language where an apostrophe was added to “its” when the word’s intention was to indicate possession, and the word “you” was randomly doubled in flagrant disregard of semantic convention.
When English speakers did it on the internet, it sickened me. When the universe itself did it, it was more than a being could bear - it was nothing less than proof that our very existence had at its core a dark, festering kernel of evil.
As the blood, released from the meaningless shell of my body by my own hand, cut rivers of crimson across the floor, I prayed that the next world would hold no such revelations. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | "You want me to what now?" I spouted.
It had been ten years since I had awakened this gift. For the first year, I had wallowed in the shame of not being able to be a hero like so many of my peers. Slowly but surely though, I had transformed into a man who could easily jump between high paying jobs with confidence. There were too many clients and not enough of me.
"We want you to be a representative for Earth. You are uniquely gifted for this position, Desmond. Once we find life out there, you will be the one who brings us in harmony with them."
They had to fill me in on some details before I accepted the position. Apparently, due to the work of some hyperintelligent blessed, a form of FTL travel was developed. Quantum tunneling they called it. It was beyond any form of FTL travel in the science fiction books I read as a kid. Humanity now had instant access to any point in the universe simply by opening a portal. We were finally about to escape this wasted planet, to spread our wings, to become more than just humanity. The universe was about to become a lot smaller.
...
...
...
Except it didn't. It turned out there was a lot more beyond the observable universe. Our original estimate for the size of the universe was... incorrect, to put it lightly. We managed to jump past all matter in the universe by putting in an absurdly large number, but finding the actual end to the universe by jumping OUs, or Observable Universes, appeared to be an impossible task. In addition, the universe scouters couldn't find any form of intelligent life in any OU.
...
Years had passed. Humanity had already escaped Earth and designated it as a wildlife reservation planet. Our home had become, for all intents and purposes, a museum for future generations. We slowly crept out, creating what our government designated the "quantum web", a series of locations that we regularly quantum tunnel between.
It had been years since I accepted my position as Earth's representative. I had been living a comfy life with my family when...
"We got a transmission." the person on the other end of the call said.
I was escorted to the nearest observation station to translate the message.
"What does it say, Desmond?"
With a pale face and shaky voice, I murmured "...it's... not friendly, sir. Have we been sending anything that could be described as 'noise'?"
"Hmm. Well, the only thing that comes to mind is the cultural transmission. It contains a description of our languages, our cultures, and our unique powers. We've been using quantum tunneling to send the transmitter throughout space.
"..."
"What does the message say, Desmond?"
I was too shocked to say it out loud, so I wrote it down.
QUIT MAKING NOISE, WATERBAGS, OR WE WILL TERMINATE YOUR INFESTED WEB OF PLANETS. | The realization of the true horror of the universal language come upon me slowly.
At first I assumed it was an error, the kind I had seen innumerable times before on the outer worlds, in the triplamine dens, on the Reddit. But this one was persistent, consistent, dare I say it - insistent - in its rejection of all that was pure and true in life. My power had opened me to a truth that was expansive and breathtaking, and utterly terrifying - the universe had a language where an apostrophe was added to “its” when the word’s intention was to indicate possession, and the word “you” was randomly doubled in flagrant disregard of semantic convention.
When English speakers did it on the internet, it sickened me. When the universe itself did it, it was more than a being could bear - it was nothing less than proof that our very existence had at its core a dark, festering kernel of evil.
As the blood, released from the meaningless shell of my body by my own hand, cut rivers of crimson across the floor, I prayed that the next world would hold no such revelations. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It was supposed to be exciting. Jamie wanted flames that poured from his hands or strength that could knock down walls. After years of being mediocre, turning 18 was his time to shine. Instead, he got...languages? It was stupid. His power was supposed to be a reflection of who he was. Jamie had failed Spanish not just once, but twice. Well, at least this meant he wouldn't have to worry about failing it a third time.
"Maybe it's because you've been worry about passing Spanish," Becca said with a shrug, as she snuggled deeper into the gray sofa chair that was probably the best piece of furniture he had in his one-bedroom apartment.
"Weren't you the one who said Spanish was easy?" Jamie glared at his best friend.
"It's not my fault you suck at languages. Or you used to." Becca tilted her head, her brown hair brushing across her shoulders. "Does that count as cheating?"
Jamie threw a pillow at Becca, but she raised her finger and a gust of wind redirected his cotton artillery and it landed neatly in Becca's lap.
He glared at Becca who just laughed. Jamie slumped back on his much less comfortable couch and dragged a pillow over his face. "What the hell, universe?" He groaned.
"You're so dramatic," Becca said and Jamie could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Hey, but this means you can travel anywhere in the world or be a spy."
"Do you not want it?" a voice whispered by his ear, low and way too close. It felt like his entire body buzzed with the sound and he jerked up, ripping the pillow from his face.
"What the hell Becca! You scared the shit out of me."
"What?" Becca asked, looking at him in surprise.
Jamie stared. Becca was still sitting in the chair across from him. He rubbed his ear. "Did you do some sort of wind thingy with your voice?"
"Uh...no," Becca said.
"They're coming," the voice whispered and again it was so close and with it the buzz, like electricity buzzing down his body. He jumped to his feet, twirling. "Who's there?" Jamie shouted.
There was nothing, no one there, but him. He looked back at Becca, ready to ask if she was playing a prank on him, but she was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands clutched at the pillow in her lap.
"Jamie you're starting to freak me out."
Jamie stared at Becca and opened his mouth when suddenly everything rushed at him, hundreds, no thousands, of voice pushing into his ear. Their voices like a crowd injecting directly into his ear until he felt like his brain would begin hemorrhaging as it raced to understand it all. He clutched at his ears, digging his nails into his skin as he fell to the ground.
"Stop. It's too much. STOP!"
Everything went silent, abruptly. Jamie panted on the ground. Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his ears and looked around him. He jerked back. Becca was half out of her seat with her hand reaching out to him, her eyes wide. She was still, locked in a motion interrupted.
"Becca?"
Nothing. All around him there was an eerie quietness.
"What's going on?"
"Words. The universe. Little time. Run." It was the whispered voice. More urgent, but also something else, almost disjointed.
"I don't understand," Jamie said shakily. Sweat beaded across his skin. He wondered if this was what madness felt like.
"The door. Run!" The urgency in the voice grew stronger.
Fear trickled down Jamie's body and then he began to move. He knew he should hurry, but his steps were hesitant. He reached the door. Taking a breath he opened the door. Men in SWAT gear stood at his door. They too were frozen. Jamie's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head.
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie demanded.
"Run. Time is running out."
Jamie opened his mouth to again demand answers when he saw a twitch. One of the SWAT men had moved his finger. It was just a twitch, but the fingers brushed over shiny black metal. A gun. They had a gun. Of course, they did. Even in a world with powers, a gun could still end a battle just as decisively as anything. Jamie's body went cold. Was this a battle? But why? What had he done?
"Run. Run. Run," the voice said insistently.
Jamie looked back. "But Becca."
The voice was silent. One of the men turned his head, only a little, but it was just enough for Jamie to make out cold blue eyes hidden behind the faceguard.
Jamie ran and the world started up again. | The realization of the true horror of the universal language come upon me slowly.
At first I assumed it was an error, the kind I had seen innumerable times before on the outer worlds, in the triplamine dens, on the Reddit. But this one was persistent, consistent, dare I say it - insistent - in its rejection of all that was pure and true in life. My power had opened me to a truth that was expansive and breathtaking, and utterly terrifying - the universe had a language where an apostrophe was added to “its” when the word’s intention was to indicate possession, and the word “you” was randomly doubled in flagrant disregard of semantic convention.
When English speakers did it on the internet, it sickened me. When the universe itself did it, it was more than a being could bear - it was nothing less than proof that our very existence had at its core a dark, festering kernel of evil.
As the blood, released from the meaningless shell of my body by my own hand, cut rivers of crimson across the floor, I prayed that the next world would hold no such revelations. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | *Jacob woke up in the morning; he was happy for once, it was his birthday. His 18th birthday to be exact, and his gift was something a little... unexpected...*
“What the actual fuck-“
(Insert obnoxious moaning here)
“DAVID! ARE YOU JACKING OFF WITHOUT HEADPHONES AGAIN?”
“Son of a bitch I’m gonna-“
“HEY! We’re in the middle of something!!”
“WHOS THERE?”
Jacob turned around and saw two plants. They didn’t move but somehow he could understand them.
“YEAH YOU- WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF POLLINATION”
“Am I talking to a goddamn plant?”
Jacob thought that he had too much to drink last night- or somebody slipped him some acid... who knows?
“shit- I’m talking to a plant-“
“PLANT-S”
“Babe- he doesn’t know yet-“
“Okay listen, you’re a omnicomunitongue-
I know, shitty name-
It means you can speak to any living thing. Including but not limited to, plants, animals, and the universe itself”
“Yup I’m high- well, might as well make the most of it..”
“You’re not, but okay-“
“Shut up-“
“O SHIT- JAKE GIVE ME MY FUCKING BREAKFAST-“
“Great, my cat is talking too-“
“Hey capital f Fuck you too.“
Good god. My thumbs hurt
(Obligatory mobile apology here)
First try so please go easy on me | Everyone gets thier power at different times, some may have a power at the age of 13 while others may have thier power at the age of 17 but no one ever can get a power after 18 as by thier 18th birthday they will have a power.
My power came in at the age of 14 when I was just waking up, I could suddenly understand every language, not only that but also speak every language and read every language.
All this was fine as my father had the power of growth, he would be able to get stronger at 4× the rate, meanwhile my mother had the power of health so she could never get sick from anything, but neither of thier powers could help others in any way but food so my father worked tirelessly at the fields while my mother took care of the home, I would also help my father most of the time.
By time I was 18 I thought I knew everything there was to know about my power but that is when I started hearing strange sounds coming from the sky it's self, it took me a year to understand it but when I did I learned about it, how it was lonely and how it was happy to finally have another to talk to, when I asked what it ment when it said another to talk to it just sat in silence for a few minutes until finally asking "you are not like me are you", I was bewildered at that response and it was not what I was expecting, I said "I do not know what you are but I call myself a human" it then got quiet for a mother before talking again.
That all was in the year 1632 and now I am not able to die as the thing I I was talking to won't allow the only one to understand it die.
So I am warning every one who can speak every language, never and I mean never talk to the universe as you will be trapped. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | \*First attempt ever! Just felt like it.\*
My mom was fuming. She felt indignant, as if I had been cheated of a birthright. So eldest sis can fly, Paloma's daughters could regenerate or destroy tissue at will (they were great doctors, one as a general practitioner, the other the best oncologist in the country), and I got languages. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of pity and commiseration. As for me, the only thing that really pissed me off was the time I had spent learning English as a second language and the hiragana characters from Japanese. Had I known this was going to be my power, I would have devoted all the time I spent on English classes to the gym and waited patiently without looking at the kanas. But one never knows what it's going to be, right?
After a few days of complaining to the cosmos and whoever wanted to hear her and a pair of visits to the doctor, Mom's anger and frustration started to rub on me and I was getting annoyed. I loved learning languages and was only sorry that I hadn't had time to learn as many as I had wanted. Frankly, it was great to be able to understand Japanese without enduring learning kanjis and radicals one by one. I had to convince my Mom I'd become a great writer or diplomat or politician for her to calm down. The fact that the government did call me because they needed me from time to time in intelligence helped a lot. I just took the chance to get my hands onto every single book and comic I had ever wanted. It took me a bit more to realize that all songs and movies worldwide were available to me as they'd never been before.
It was because I spent months reading truckloads of manga, manwha and some of my favourite authors in their original languages (Ende, Sapkowski, Mournier, every poet ever...), listening to music and watching obscure TV series and movies that it took time to realize the extent of my power.
A language is not only a batch of sounds or jots on paper, papyrus or stone, defining a concept. A language is a vision of the world, and it's intrinsically tied to its culture and history. That's why the British won't do something for all the tea in China, but the Spanish won't do something for all the gold in the world (por todo el oro del mundo). The car has no gender in English, but it's masculine in Spanish and feminine in French. Other languages have neutral pronouns and adjectives and... I could go on and on. The languages, by nature, came with vast amounts of historical and geographical knowledge. I had heard of the town of Aquisgrán, and now I knew it was Aachen. Maps were suddenly much easier to understand, because I knew, if only by their language relationship, a lot of the stuff in them. I felt overwhelmed with all the new things I could now do... reading has always been for me like entering someone else's mind, and suddently thousands and thousands of minds were available for me to meet. As long as a language had a living speaker, I knew it. This wasn't always a blessing. I had to suffer the loss when the last nonagenarian woman to speak an indigenous language died. I felt the erasure of her view of the world... the places, the flowers, the people... they had somehow been in my head and suddenly stopped making sense. I cried my heart out that night, and the native Esperanto speakers or the few fluent Klingons didn't compensate for it.
I need to explain this because it's hard to see why it took me such a long time to realize all my power entailed. I found that I had lost all my inability at Maths by pure chance, trying to guess which of two packets of something was cheaper by the kilo at the supermarket. I guess it makes sense, since the universe is written in maths. I had been so immersed in all the new languages I had found that I certainly hadn't thought about going back to the subject I used to be the worst at. I was now a genius at something, and knowing feels good. So when I realized I understood Maths as if it were my native tongue, I was so blown out that there weren't enough hours in the day for me to read and watch and do everything I could on the subject. I felt blessed by Athena... and all goddesses of knowledge who had a name in any language.
Still the greatest treasure was yet to be found. It was the astrophysics professor at one of the universities that had opened their doors wide for me that noticed when he asked about a star in an easily recognized map. It was Sirius, which I named as Sirius... and all its other names. I started listing names, went on for a while and then I continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued. At this point, the students were looking at me funny, and questioningly at the professor. I was also curious about when he'd stop me, but he didn't and I took it as a challenge, waiting to see where this went. It was one student that eventually interrupted: 'Do we really need all those many names?'
The professor smiled knowingly, and answered: 'Do we?' Two or three students raised their hands. The professor pointed at one. 'She has used more names than living languages exist in the planet right now. Some of those names are not from Earth'. Another guy went on immediately after her: 'And I must add that A LOT of living languages today call Sirius either Sirius or Canis Maioris. That star doesn't have that many names that we know of, so...'
''So...?' Said the teacher, with a beaming smile, looking at me as a child looks at his presents on Christmas day. I swallowed and suddenly realized how the name of the star meant different things to different civilizations, according to different cultures, different geographies... different skies. It was then and there that it struck me: not all of them were human.
​
Mom got her wish, after all. My power is super important. Teachers had to help me get a lot of the info out of my brain, but it helped with the tokamak design fusion reactor. And with the faster than light travel, though it's not really travel, but more like spacetime folding (it's very hard to describe in any earthling language). It also helped with what was needed for the neurological upgrades required to understand a lot of what I knew. I got them, too. I could write all the Maths in the cosmos correctly, but I just didn't understand them. It was funny: at a certain point I could read and write anything Maths correctly but wasn't able to explain what it meant. At the beginning, my Maths needed translators. We then arrived to the point where most mathematicians and physicists didn't understand what I wrote anymore, and they had to use what I had given them to boost their intelligence to be able to. You should have seen what that did to research in medicine. Raising the empathy of psychopaths was easy, and a priority. Raising the empathy and intelligence for everyone wasn't. Goverments didn't want it to happen, but give a bunch of scientists the ability to creat brain-repairing nanos and try to tell them not to use them to increase empathy or intelligence. I mean, those in power did try. They were the first ones to reward the stray scientists. Democracy is different now. The main decision makers are chosen by a random lottery. Most people are ethically and intellectually qualified, and if they weren't, they could be upgraded for the job.
Once the brain-scan has been perfected so humankind can get all the info in my head, I'll be able to leave my cage (OK, it's a palace complex with a forest-sized garden, but I still haven't been allowed to leave in decades).
When I do, I'm going to read all the writings, listen to all the music and recite all the poetry in the world. I'll look at all the paintings and all the sculptures and everything... By the time I'm done, I'll move to other worlds.
I love my Mom, but seriously, she was wrong. I wouldn't change my gift for anyone's, ever. | Everyone gets thier power at different times, some may have a power at the age of 13 while others may have thier power at the age of 17 but no one ever can get a power after 18 as by thier 18th birthday they will have a power.
My power came in at the age of 14 when I was just waking up, I could suddenly understand every language, not only that but also speak every language and read every language.
All this was fine as my father had the power of growth, he would be able to get stronger at 4× the rate, meanwhile my mother had the power of health so she could never get sick from anything, but neither of thier powers could help others in any way but food so my father worked tirelessly at the fields while my mother took care of the home, I would also help my father most of the time.
By time I was 18 I thought I knew everything there was to know about my power but that is when I started hearing strange sounds coming from the sky it's self, it took me a year to understand it but when I did I learned about it, how it was lonely and how it was happy to finally have another to talk to, when I asked what it ment when it said another to talk to it just sat in silence for a few minutes until finally asking "you are not like me are you", I was bewildered at that response and it was not what I was expecting, I said "I do not know what you are but I call myself a human" it then got quiet for a mother before talking again.
That all was in the year 1632 and now I am not able to die as the thing I I was talking to won't allow the only one to understand it die.
So I am warning every one who can speak every language, never and I mean never talk to the universe as you will be trapped. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | Once again, the sound of languages coagulated in my head as I desperately tried to type out my college admissions essays. I wanted to scream: at the lady bragging about how she cheated on her husband, at the boys screaming about Fortnite, and at the tourists harassing the Hispanic lady next to me.
But it's not like I could write at home. Who could? While I became well-versed in the language of human tongues outside, they at least drowned out the haunting cries of broken glass. The curse words I didn't understand as a child caught up to me in my dreams and ears, ringing noises shattering every creative thought I had. If I could at least find a distraction to wash away the language of crying glass, of that disgusted beer bottle watching us pass over him, and of the tired glass bowls at the Gelato shop across from me.
The languages all played simultaneously in my head as my hands twitched over the keyboard. Again. Again. Louder. Louder. In the back of it all was not the heartbreaking sound of glass but a polyphonic whinge. When the other languages dwindled, as their speakers moved to better places, the whinging sound only grew louder. Unlike the other languages, I couldn't immediately understand this language. Words flowed past my mind with no real meaning: laundry anger communal washing machine, harder faster better stronger, whisper not yell, climb the shop, social circles, to be an admissions officer you must, live peacefully, at the beach there is ice cream for you, the note you're playing is flat, and top shop.
Trying to understand these messages slowly drove me insane and I knew it. What was the connection? Why would the universe, or whatever omnipotent creature, send me these snippets of words and advice spoken to other people? It's not that I don't understand other people. I understand them because I can speak to anybody who I please to. My typing broke off as I looked at the first word of every phrase. Punctuated by meaningless phrases - like introns in the universe's messaging system - stood a disturbing message. *Climb social circles to live at the top.* Well, even if the universe told me to network more, I still wouldn't do it well enough to "live at the top".
Why do all of my languages default to English translations?
"No me importa! Creo que esta es feo y por lo tanto, no la quiero llevar para ver a Marco. You're so pushy. No te consideras mio - sabe que es incorrecto mama - pero..." Always translated into English in my head. Mother language I suppose?
My understanding isn't that limited.
I can't understand them as humans not because there's something wrong with me. I'm empathetic. I'm empathetic. I can slip into anyone's shoes.
*Why do you think you're so special? Won't you believe me? You are fucking trash and all you can do is mop floors or gamble. Listen to me, I'm just trying to give you advice, it's not like I'm trying to kill you.*
I open my eyes to broken glass and cuts all over my skin. | Everyone gets thier power at different times, some may have a power at the age of 13 while others may have thier power at the age of 17 but no one ever can get a power after 18 as by thier 18th birthday they will have a power.
My power came in at the age of 14 when I was just waking up, I could suddenly understand every language, not only that but also speak every language and read every language.
All this was fine as my father had the power of growth, he would be able to get stronger at 4× the rate, meanwhile my mother had the power of health so she could never get sick from anything, but neither of thier powers could help others in any way but food so my father worked tirelessly at the fields while my mother took care of the home, I would also help my father most of the time.
By time I was 18 I thought I knew everything there was to know about my power but that is when I started hearing strange sounds coming from the sky it's self, it took me a year to understand it but when I did I learned about it, how it was lonely and how it was happy to finally have another to talk to, when I asked what it ment when it said another to talk to it just sat in silence for a few minutes until finally asking "you are not like me are you", I was bewildered at that response and it was not what I was expecting, I said "I do not know what you are but I call myself a human" it then got quiet for a mother before talking again.
That all was in the year 1632 and now I am not able to die as the thing I I was talking to won't allow the only one to understand it die.
So I am warning every one who can speak every language, never and I mean never talk to the universe as you will be trapped. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | "You want me to what now?" I spouted.
It had been ten years since I had awakened this gift. For the first year, I had wallowed in the shame of not being able to be a hero like so many of my peers. Slowly but surely though, I had transformed into a man who could easily jump between high paying jobs with confidence. There were too many clients and not enough of me.
"We want you to be a representative for Earth. You are uniquely gifted for this position, Desmond. Once we find life out there, you will be the one who brings us in harmony with them."
They had to fill me in on some details before I accepted the position. Apparently, due to the work of some hyperintelligent blessed, a form of FTL travel was developed. Quantum tunneling they called it. It was beyond any form of FTL travel in the science fiction books I read as a kid. Humanity now had instant access to any point in the universe simply by opening a portal. We were finally about to escape this wasted planet, to spread our wings, to become more than just humanity. The universe was about to become a lot smaller.
...
...
...
Except it didn't. It turned out there was a lot more beyond the observable universe. Our original estimate for the size of the universe was... incorrect, to put it lightly. We managed to jump past all matter in the universe by putting in an absurdly large number, but finding the actual end to the universe by jumping OUs, or Observable Universes, appeared to be an impossible task. In addition, the universe scouters couldn't find any form of intelligent life in any OU.
...
Years had passed. Humanity had already escaped Earth and designated it as a wildlife reservation planet. Our home had become, for all intents and purposes, a museum for future generations. We slowly crept out, creating what our government designated the "quantum web", a series of locations that we regularly quantum tunnel between.
It had been years since I accepted my position as Earth's representative. I had been living a comfy life with my family when...
"We got a transmission." the person on the other end of the call said.
I was escorted to the nearest observation station to translate the message.
"What does it say, Desmond?"
With a pale face and shaky voice, I murmured "...it's... not friendly, sir. Have we been sending anything that could be described as 'noise'?"
"Hmm. Well, the only thing that comes to mind is the cultural transmission. It contains a description of our languages, our cultures, and our unique powers. We've been using quantum tunneling to send the transmitter throughout space.
"..."
"What does the message say, Desmond?"
I was too shocked to say it out loud, so I wrote it down.
QUIT MAKING NOISE, WATERBAGS, OR WE WILL TERMINATE YOUR INFESTED WEB OF PLANETS. | Everyone gets thier power at different times, some may have a power at the age of 13 while others may have thier power at the age of 17 but no one ever can get a power after 18 as by thier 18th birthday they will have a power.
My power came in at the age of 14 when I was just waking up, I could suddenly understand every language, not only that but also speak every language and read every language.
All this was fine as my father had the power of growth, he would be able to get stronger at 4× the rate, meanwhile my mother had the power of health so she could never get sick from anything, but neither of thier powers could help others in any way but food so my father worked tirelessly at the fields while my mother took care of the home, I would also help my father most of the time.
By time I was 18 I thought I knew everything there was to know about my power but that is when I started hearing strange sounds coming from the sky it's self, it took me a year to understand it but when I did I learned about it, how it was lonely and how it was happy to finally have another to talk to, when I asked what it ment when it said another to talk to it just sat in silence for a few minutes until finally asking "you are not like me are you", I was bewildered at that response and it was not what I was expecting, I said "I do not know what you are but I call myself a human" it then got quiet for a mother before talking again.
That all was in the year 1632 and now I am not able to die as the thing I I was talking to won't allow the only one to understand it die.
So I am warning every one who can speak every language, never and I mean never talk to the universe as you will be trapped. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It was supposed to be exciting. Jamie wanted flames that poured from his hands or strength that could knock down walls. After years of being mediocre, turning 18 was his time to shine. Instead, he got...languages? It was stupid. His power was supposed to be a reflection of who he was. Jamie had failed Spanish not just once, but twice. Well, at least this meant he wouldn't have to worry about failing it a third time.
"Maybe it's because you've been worry about passing Spanish," Becca said with a shrug, as she snuggled deeper into the gray sofa chair that was probably the best piece of furniture he had in his one-bedroom apartment.
"Weren't you the one who said Spanish was easy?" Jamie glared at his best friend.
"It's not my fault you suck at languages. Or you used to." Becca tilted her head, her brown hair brushing across her shoulders. "Does that count as cheating?"
Jamie threw a pillow at Becca, but she raised her finger and a gust of wind redirected his cotton artillery and it landed neatly in Becca's lap.
He glared at Becca who just laughed. Jamie slumped back on his much less comfortable couch and dragged a pillow over his face. "What the hell, universe?" He groaned.
"You're so dramatic," Becca said and Jamie could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Hey, but this means you can travel anywhere in the world or be a spy."
"Do you not want it?" a voice whispered by his ear, low and way too close. It felt like his entire body buzzed with the sound and he jerked up, ripping the pillow from his face.
"What the hell Becca! You scared the shit out of me."
"What?" Becca asked, looking at him in surprise.
Jamie stared. Becca was still sitting in the chair across from him. He rubbed his ear. "Did you do some sort of wind thingy with your voice?"
"Uh...no," Becca said.
"They're coming," the voice whispered and again it was so close and with it the buzz, like electricity buzzing down his body. He jumped to his feet, twirling. "Who's there?" Jamie shouted.
There was nothing, no one there, but him. He looked back at Becca, ready to ask if she was playing a prank on him, but she was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands clutched at the pillow in her lap.
"Jamie you're starting to freak me out."
Jamie stared at Becca and opened his mouth when suddenly everything rushed at him, hundreds, no thousands, of voice pushing into his ear. Their voices like a crowd injecting directly into his ear until he felt like his brain would begin hemorrhaging as it raced to understand it all. He clutched at his ears, digging his nails into his skin as he fell to the ground.
"Stop. It's too much. STOP!"
Everything went silent, abruptly. Jamie panted on the ground. Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his ears and looked around him. He jerked back. Becca was half out of her seat with her hand reaching out to him, her eyes wide. She was still, locked in a motion interrupted.
"Becca?"
Nothing. All around him there was an eerie quietness.
"What's going on?"
"Words. The universe. Little time. Run." It was the whispered voice. More urgent, but also something else, almost disjointed.
"I don't understand," Jamie said shakily. Sweat beaded across his skin. He wondered if this was what madness felt like.
"The door. Run!" The urgency in the voice grew stronger.
Fear trickled down Jamie's body and then he began to move. He knew he should hurry, but his steps were hesitant. He reached the door. Taking a breath he opened the door. Men in SWAT gear stood at his door. They too were frozen. Jamie's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head.
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie demanded.
"Run. Time is running out."
Jamie opened his mouth to again demand answers when he saw a twitch. One of the SWAT men had moved his finger. It was just a twitch, but the fingers brushed over shiny black metal. A gun. They had a gun. Of course, they did. Even in a world with powers, a gun could still end a battle just as decisively as anything. Jamie's body went cold. Was this a battle? But why? What had he done?
"Run. Run. Run," the voice said insistently.
Jamie looked back. "But Becca."
The voice was silent. One of the men turned his head, only a little, but it was just enough for Jamie to make out cold blue eyes hidden behind the faceguard.
Jamie ran and the world started up again. | Everyone gets thier power at different times, some may have a power at the age of 13 while others may have thier power at the age of 17 but no one ever can get a power after 18 as by thier 18th birthday they will have a power.
My power came in at the age of 14 when I was just waking up, I could suddenly understand every language, not only that but also speak every language and read every language.
All this was fine as my father had the power of growth, he would be able to get stronger at 4× the rate, meanwhile my mother had the power of health so she could never get sick from anything, but neither of thier powers could help others in any way but food so my father worked tirelessly at the fields while my mother took care of the home, I would also help my father most of the time.
By time I was 18 I thought I knew everything there was to know about my power but that is when I started hearing strange sounds coming from the sky it's self, it took me a year to understand it but when I did I learned about it, how it was lonely and how it was happy to finally have another to talk to, when I asked what it ment when it said another to talk to it just sat in silence for a few minutes until finally asking "you are not like me are you", I was bewildered at that response and it was not what I was expecting, I said "I do not know what you are but I call myself a human" it then got quiet for a mother before talking again.
That all was in the year 1632 and now I am not able to die as the thing I I was talking to won't allow the only one to understand it die.
So I am warning every one who can speak every language, never and I mean never talk to the universe as you will be trapped. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | \*First attempt ever! Just felt like it.\*
My mom was fuming. She felt indignant, as if I had been cheated of a birthright. So eldest sis can fly, Paloma's daughters could regenerate or destroy tissue at will (they were great doctors, one as a general practitioner, the other the best oncologist in the country), and I got languages. Everyone looked at me with eyes full of pity and commiseration. As for me, the only thing that really pissed me off was the time I had spent learning English as a second language and the hiragana characters from Japanese. Had I known this was going to be my power, I would have devoted all the time I spent on English classes to the gym and waited patiently without looking at the kanas. But one never knows what it's going to be, right?
After a few days of complaining to the cosmos and whoever wanted to hear her and a pair of visits to the doctor, Mom's anger and frustration started to rub on me and I was getting annoyed. I loved learning languages and was only sorry that I hadn't had time to learn as many as I had wanted. Frankly, it was great to be able to understand Japanese without enduring learning kanjis and radicals one by one. I had to convince my Mom I'd become a great writer or diplomat or politician for her to calm down. The fact that the government did call me because they needed me from time to time in intelligence helped a lot. I just took the chance to get my hands onto every single book and comic I had ever wanted. It took me a bit more to realize that all songs and movies worldwide were available to me as they'd never been before.
It was because I spent months reading truckloads of manga, manwha and some of my favourite authors in their original languages (Ende, Sapkowski, Mournier, every poet ever...), listening to music and watching obscure TV series and movies that it took time to realize the extent of my power.
A language is not only a batch of sounds or jots on paper, papyrus or stone, defining a concept. A language is a vision of the world, and it's intrinsically tied to its culture and history. That's why the British won't do something for all the tea in China, but the Spanish won't do something for all the gold in the world (por todo el oro del mundo). The car has no gender in English, but it's masculine in Spanish and feminine in French. Other languages have neutral pronouns and adjectives and... I could go on and on. The languages, by nature, came with vast amounts of historical and geographical knowledge. I had heard of the town of Aquisgrán, and now I knew it was Aachen. Maps were suddenly much easier to understand, because I knew, if only by their language relationship, a lot of the stuff in them. I felt overwhelmed with all the new things I could now do... reading has always been for me like entering someone else's mind, and suddently thousands and thousands of minds were available for me to meet. As long as a language had a living speaker, I knew it. This wasn't always a blessing. I had to suffer the loss when the last nonagenarian woman to speak an indigenous language died. I felt the erasure of her view of the world... the places, the flowers, the people... they had somehow been in my head and suddenly stopped making sense. I cried my heart out that night, and the native Esperanto speakers or the few fluent Klingons didn't compensate for it.
I need to explain this because it's hard to see why it took me such a long time to realize all my power entailed. I found that I had lost all my inability at Maths by pure chance, trying to guess which of two packets of something was cheaper by the kilo at the supermarket. I guess it makes sense, since the universe is written in maths. I had been so immersed in all the new languages I had found that I certainly hadn't thought about going back to the subject I used to be the worst at. I was now a genius at something, and knowing feels good. So when I realized I understood Maths as if it were my native tongue, I was so blown out that there weren't enough hours in the day for me to read and watch and do everything I could on the subject. I felt blessed by Athena... and all goddesses of knowledge who had a name in any language.
Still the greatest treasure was yet to be found. It was the astrophysics professor at one of the universities that had opened their doors wide for me that noticed when he asked about a star in an easily recognized map. It was Sirius, which I named as Sirius... and all its other names. I started listing names, went on for a while and then I continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued.
And continued. At this point, the students were looking at me funny, and questioningly at the professor. I was also curious about when he'd stop me, but he didn't and I took it as a challenge, waiting to see where this went. It was one student that eventually interrupted: 'Do we really need all those many names?'
The professor smiled knowingly, and answered: 'Do we?' Two or three students raised their hands. The professor pointed at one. 'She has used more names than living languages exist in the planet right now. Some of those names are not from Earth'. Another guy went on immediately after her: 'And I must add that A LOT of living languages today call Sirius either Sirius or Canis Maioris. That star doesn't have that many names that we know of, so...'
''So...?' Said the teacher, with a beaming smile, looking at me as a child looks at his presents on Christmas day. I swallowed and suddenly realized how the name of the star meant different things to different civilizations, according to different cultures, different geographies... different skies. It was then and there that it struck me: not all of them were human.
​
Mom got her wish, after all. My power is super important. Teachers had to help me get a lot of the info out of my brain, but it helped with the tokamak design fusion reactor. And with the faster than light travel, though it's not really travel, but more like spacetime folding (it's very hard to describe in any earthling language). It also helped with what was needed for the neurological upgrades required to understand a lot of what I knew. I got them, too. I could write all the Maths in the cosmos correctly, but I just didn't understand them. It was funny: at a certain point I could read and write anything Maths correctly but wasn't able to explain what it meant. At the beginning, my Maths needed translators. We then arrived to the point where most mathematicians and physicists didn't understand what I wrote anymore, and they had to use what I had given them to boost their intelligence to be able to. You should have seen what that did to research in medicine. Raising the empathy of psychopaths was easy, and a priority. Raising the empathy and intelligence for everyone wasn't. Goverments didn't want it to happen, but give a bunch of scientists the ability to creat brain-repairing nanos and try to tell them not to use them to increase empathy or intelligence. I mean, those in power did try. They were the first ones to reward the stray scientists. Democracy is different now. The main decision makers are chosen by a random lottery. Most people are ethically and intellectually qualified, and if they weren't, they could be upgraded for the job.
Once the brain-scan has been perfected so humankind can get all the info in my head, I'll be able to leave my cage (OK, it's a palace complex with a forest-sized garden, but I still haven't been allowed to leave in decades).
When I do, I'm going to read all the writings, listen to all the music and recite all the poetry in the world. I'll look at all the paintings and all the sculptures and everything... By the time I'm done, I'll move to other worlds.
I love my Mom, but seriously, she was wrong. I wouldn't change my gift for anyone's, ever. | *Jacob woke up in the morning; he was happy for once, it was his birthday. His 18th birthday to be exact, and his gift was something a little... unexpected...*
“What the actual fuck-“
(Insert obnoxious moaning here)
“DAVID! ARE YOU JACKING OFF WITHOUT HEADPHONES AGAIN?”
“Son of a bitch I’m gonna-“
“HEY! We’re in the middle of something!!”
“WHOS THERE?”
Jacob turned around and saw two plants. They didn’t move but somehow he could understand them.
“YEAH YOU- WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF POLLINATION”
“Am I talking to a goddamn plant?”
Jacob thought that he had too much to drink last night- or somebody slipped him some acid... who knows?
“shit- I’m talking to a plant-“
“PLANT-S”
“Babe- he doesn’t know yet-“
“Okay listen, you’re a omnicomunitongue-
I know, shitty name-
It means you can speak to any living thing. Including but not limited to, plants, animals, and the universe itself”
“Yup I’m high- well, might as well make the most of it..”
“You’re not, but okay-“
“Shut up-“
“O SHIT- JAKE GIVE ME MY FUCKING BREAKFAST-“
“Great, my cat is talking too-“
“Hey capital f Fuck you too.“
Good god. My thumbs hurt
(Obligatory mobile apology here)
First try so please go easy on me |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | "You want me to what now?" I spouted.
It had been ten years since I had awakened this gift. For the first year, I had wallowed in the shame of not being able to be a hero like so many of my peers. Slowly but surely though, I had transformed into a man who could easily jump between high paying jobs with confidence. There were too many clients and not enough of me.
"We want you to be a representative for Earth. You are uniquely gifted for this position, Desmond. Once we find life out there, you will be the one who brings us in harmony with them."
They had to fill me in on some details before I accepted the position. Apparently, due to the work of some hyperintelligent blessed, a form of FTL travel was developed. Quantum tunneling they called it. It was beyond any form of FTL travel in the science fiction books I read as a kid. Humanity now had instant access to any point in the universe simply by opening a portal. We were finally about to escape this wasted planet, to spread our wings, to become more than just humanity. The universe was about to become a lot smaller.
...
...
...
Except it didn't. It turned out there was a lot more beyond the observable universe. Our original estimate for the size of the universe was... incorrect, to put it lightly. We managed to jump past all matter in the universe by putting in an absurdly large number, but finding the actual end to the universe by jumping OUs, or Observable Universes, appeared to be an impossible task. In addition, the universe scouters couldn't find any form of intelligent life in any OU.
...
Years had passed. Humanity had already escaped Earth and designated it as a wildlife reservation planet. Our home had become, for all intents and purposes, a museum for future generations. We slowly crept out, creating what our government designated the "quantum web", a series of locations that we regularly quantum tunnel between.
It had been years since I accepted my position as Earth's representative. I had been living a comfy life with my family when...
"We got a transmission." the person on the other end of the call said.
I was escorted to the nearest observation station to translate the message.
"What does it say, Desmond?"
With a pale face and shaky voice, I murmured "...it's... not friendly, sir. Have we been sending anything that could be described as 'noise'?"
"Hmm. Well, the only thing that comes to mind is the cultural transmission. It contains a description of our languages, our cultures, and our unique powers. We've been using quantum tunneling to send the transmitter throughout space.
"..."
"What does the message say, Desmond?"
I was too shocked to say it out loud, so I wrote it down.
QUIT MAKING NOISE, WATERBAGS, OR WE WILL TERMINATE YOUR INFESTED WEB OF PLANETS. | *Jacob woke up in the morning; he was happy for once, it was his birthday. His 18th birthday to be exact, and his gift was something a little... unexpected...*
“What the actual fuck-“
(Insert obnoxious moaning here)
“DAVID! ARE YOU JACKING OFF WITHOUT HEADPHONES AGAIN?”
“Son of a bitch I’m gonna-“
“HEY! We’re in the middle of something!!”
“WHOS THERE?”
Jacob turned around and saw two plants. They didn’t move but somehow he could understand them.
“YEAH YOU- WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF POLLINATION”
“Am I talking to a goddamn plant?”
Jacob thought that he had too much to drink last night- or somebody slipped him some acid... who knows?
“shit- I’m talking to a plant-“
“PLANT-S”
“Babe- he doesn’t know yet-“
“Okay listen, you’re a omnicomunitongue-
I know, shitty name-
It means you can speak to any living thing. Including but not limited to, plants, animals, and the universe itself”
“Yup I’m high- well, might as well make the most of it..”
“You’re not, but okay-“
“Shut up-“
“O SHIT- JAKE GIVE ME MY FUCKING BREAKFAST-“
“Great, my cat is talking too-“
“Hey capital f Fuck you too.“
Good god. My thumbs hurt
(Obligatory mobile apology here)
First try so please go easy on me |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It was supposed to be exciting. Jamie wanted flames that poured from his hands or strength that could knock down walls. After years of being mediocre, turning 18 was his time to shine. Instead, he got...languages? It was stupid. His power was supposed to be a reflection of who he was. Jamie had failed Spanish not just once, but twice. Well, at least this meant he wouldn't have to worry about failing it a third time.
"Maybe it's because you've been worry about passing Spanish," Becca said with a shrug, as she snuggled deeper into the gray sofa chair that was probably the best piece of furniture he had in his one-bedroom apartment.
"Weren't you the one who said Spanish was easy?" Jamie glared at his best friend.
"It's not my fault you suck at languages. Or you used to." Becca tilted her head, her brown hair brushing across her shoulders. "Does that count as cheating?"
Jamie threw a pillow at Becca, but she raised her finger and a gust of wind redirected his cotton artillery and it landed neatly in Becca's lap.
He glared at Becca who just laughed. Jamie slumped back on his much less comfortable couch and dragged a pillow over his face. "What the hell, universe?" He groaned.
"You're so dramatic," Becca said and Jamie could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Hey, but this means you can travel anywhere in the world or be a spy."
"Do you not want it?" a voice whispered by his ear, low and way too close. It felt like his entire body buzzed with the sound and he jerked up, ripping the pillow from his face.
"What the hell Becca! You scared the shit out of me."
"What?" Becca asked, looking at him in surprise.
Jamie stared. Becca was still sitting in the chair across from him. He rubbed his ear. "Did you do some sort of wind thingy with your voice?"
"Uh...no," Becca said.
"They're coming," the voice whispered and again it was so close and with it the buzz, like electricity buzzing down his body. He jumped to his feet, twirling. "Who's there?" Jamie shouted.
There was nothing, no one there, but him. He looked back at Becca, ready to ask if she was playing a prank on him, but she was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands clutched at the pillow in her lap.
"Jamie you're starting to freak me out."
Jamie stared at Becca and opened his mouth when suddenly everything rushed at him, hundreds, no thousands, of voice pushing into his ear. Their voices like a crowd injecting directly into his ear until he felt like his brain would begin hemorrhaging as it raced to understand it all. He clutched at his ears, digging his nails into his skin as he fell to the ground.
"Stop. It's too much. STOP!"
Everything went silent, abruptly. Jamie panted on the ground. Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his ears and looked around him. He jerked back. Becca was half out of her seat with her hand reaching out to him, her eyes wide. She was still, locked in a motion interrupted.
"Becca?"
Nothing. All around him there was an eerie quietness.
"What's going on?"
"Words. The universe. Little time. Run." It was the whispered voice. More urgent, but also something else, almost disjointed.
"I don't understand," Jamie said shakily. Sweat beaded across his skin. He wondered if this was what madness felt like.
"The door. Run!" The urgency in the voice grew stronger.
Fear trickled down Jamie's body and then he began to move. He knew he should hurry, but his steps were hesitant. He reached the door. Taking a breath he opened the door. Men in SWAT gear stood at his door. They too were frozen. Jamie's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head.
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie demanded.
"Run. Time is running out."
Jamie opened his mouth to again demand answers when he saw a twitch. One of the SWAT men had moved his finger. It was just a twitch, but the fingers brushed over shiny black metal. A gun. They had a gun. Of course, they did. Even in a world with powers, a gun could still end a battle just as decisively as anything. Jamie's body went cold. Was this a battle? But why? What had he done?
"Run. Run. Run," the voice said insistently.
Jamie looked back. "But Becca."
The voice was silent. One of the men turned his head, only a little, but it was just enough for Jamie to make out cold blue eyes hidden behind the faceguard.
Jamie ran and the world started up again. | *Jacob woke up in the morning; he was happy for once, it was his birthday. His 18th birthday to be exact, and his gift was something a little... unexpected...*
“What the actual fuck-“
(Insert obnoxious moaning here)
“DAVID! ARE YOU JACKING OFF WITHOUT HEADPHONES AGAIN?”
“Son of a bitch I’m gonna-“
“HEY! We’re in the middle of something!!”
“WHOS THERE?”
Jacob turned around and saw two plants. They didn’t move but somehow he could understand them.
“YEAH YOU- WERE IN THE MIDDLE OF POLLINATION”
“Am I talking to a goddamn plant?”
Jacob thought that he had too much to drink last night- or somebody slipped him some acid... who knows?
“shit- I’m talking to a plant-“
“PLANT-S”
“Babe- he doesn’t know yet-“
“Okay listen, you’re a omnicomunitongue-
I know, shitty name-
It means you can speak to any living thing. Including but not limited to, plants, animals, and the universe itself”
“Yup I’m high- well, might as well make the most of it..”
“You’re not, but okay-“
“Shut up-“
“O SHIT- JAKE GIVE ME MY FUCKING BREAKFAST-“
“Great, my cat is talking too-“
“Hey capital f Fuck you too.“
Good god. My thumbs hurt
(Obligatory mobile apology here)
First try so please go easy on me |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | "You want me to what now?" I spouted.
It had been ten years since I had awakened this gift. For the first year, I had wallowed in the shame of not being able to be a hero like so many of my peers. Slowly but surely though, I had transformed into a man who could easily jump between high paying jobs with confidence. There were too many clients and not enough of me.
"We want you to be a representative for Earth. You are uniquely gifted for this position, Desmond. Once we find life out there, you will be the one who brings us in harmony with them."
They had to fill me in on some details before I accepted the position. Apparently, due to the work of some hyperintelligent blessed, a form of FTL travel was developed. Quantum tunneling they called it. It was beyond any form of FTL travel in the science fiction books I read as a kid. Humanity now had instant access to any point in the universe simply by opening a portal. We were finally about to escape this wasted planet, to spread our wings, to become more than just humanity. The universe was about to become a lot smaller.
...
...
...
Except it didn't. It turned out there was a lot more beyond the observable universe. Our original estimate for the size of the universe was... incorrect, to put it lightly. We managed to jump past all matter in the universe by putting in an absurdly large number, but finding the actual end to the universe by jumping OUs, or Observable Universes, appeared to be an impossible task. In addition, the universe scouters couldn't find any form of intelligent life in any OU.
...
Years had passed. Humanity had already escaped Earth and designated it as a wildlife reservation planet. Our home had become, for all intents and purposes, a museum for future generations. We slowly crept out, creating what our government designated the "quantum web", a series of locations that we regularly quantum tunnel between.
It had been years since I accepted my position as Earth's representative. I had been living a comfy life with my family when...
"We got a transmission." the person on the other end of the call said.
I was escorted to the nearest observation station to translate the message.
"What does it say, Desmond?"
With a pale face and shaky voice, I murmured "...it's... not friendly, sir. Have we been sending anything that could be described as 'noise'?"
"Hmm. Well, the only thing that comes to mind is the cultural transmission. It contains a description of our languages, our cultures, and our unique powers. We've been using quantum tunneling to send the transmitter throughout space.
"..."
"What does the message say, Desmond?"
I was too shocked to say it out loud, so I wrote it down.
QUIT MAKING NOISE, WATERBAGS, OR WE WILL TERMINATE YOUR INFESTED WEB OF PLANETS. | Once again, the sound of languages coagulated in my head as I desperately tried to type out my college admissions essays. I wanted to scream: at the lady bragging about how she cheated on her husband, at the boys screaming about Fortnite, and at the tourists harassing the Hispanic lady next to me.
But it's not like I could write at home. Who could? While I became well-versed in the language of human tongues outside, they at least drowned out the haunting cries of broken glass. The curse words I didn't understand as a child caught up to me in my dreams and ears, ringing noises shattering every creative thought I had. If I could at least find a distraction to wash away the language of crying glass, of that disgusted beer bottle watching us pass over him, and of the tired glass bowls at the Gelato shop across from me.
The languages all played simultaneously in my head as my hands twitched over the keyboard. Again. Again. Louder. Louder. In the back of it all was not the heartbreaking sound of glass but a polyphonic whinge. When the other languages dwindled, as their speakers moved to better places, the whinging sound only grew louder. Unlike the other languages, I couldn't immediately understand this language. Words flowed past my mind with no real meaning: laundry anger communal washing machine, harder faster better stronger, whisper not yell, climb the shop, social circles, to be an admissions officer you must, live peacefully, at the beach there is ice cream for you, the note you're playing is flat, and top shop.
Trying to understand these messages slowly drove me insane and I knew it. What was the connection? Why would the universe, or whatever omnipotent creature, send me these snippets of words and advice spoken to other people? It's not that I don't understand other people. I understand them because I can speak to anybody who I please to. My typing broke off as I looked at the first word of every phrase. Punctuated by meaningless phrases - like introns in the universe's messaging system - stood a disturbing message. *Climb social circles to live at the top.* Well, even if the universe told me to network more, I still wouldn't do it well enough to "live at the top".
Why do all of my languages default to English translations?
"No me importa! Creo que esta es feo y por lo tanto, no la quiero llevar para ver a Marco. You're so pushy. No te consideras mio - sabe que es incorrecto mama - pero..." Always translated into English in my head. Mother language I suppose?
My understanding isn't that limited.
I can't understand them as humans not because there's something wrong with me. I'm empathetic. I'm empathetic. I can slip into anyone's shoes.
*Why do you think you're so special? Won't you believe me? You are fucking trash and all you can do is mop floors or gamble. Listen to me, I'm just trying to give you advice, it's not like I'm trying to kill you.*
I open my eyes to broken glass and cuts all over my skin. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It was supposed to be exciting. Jamie wanted flames that poured from his hands or strength that could knock down walls. After years of being mediocre, turning 18 was his time to shine. Instead, he got...languages? It was stupid. His power was supposed to be a reflection of who he was. Jamie had failed Spanish not just once, but twice. Well, at least this meant he wouldn't have to worry about failing it a third time.
"Maybe it's because you've been worry about passing Spanish," Becca said with a shrug, as she snuggled deeper into the gray sofa chair that was probably the best piece of furniture he had in his one-bedroom apartment.
"Weren't you the one who said Spanish was easy?" Jamie glared at his best friend.
"It's not my fault you suck at languages. Or you used to." Becca tilted her head, her brown hair brushing across her shoulders. "Does that count as cheating?"
Jamie threw a pillow at Becca, but she raised her finger and a gust of wind redirected his cotton artillery and it landed neatly in Becca's lap.
He glared at Becca who just laughed. Jamie slumped back on his much less comfortable couch and dragged a pillow over his face. "What the hell, universe?" He groaned.
"You're so dramatic," Becca said and Jamie could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Hey, but this means you can travel anywhere in the world or be a spy."
"Do you not want it?" a voice whispered by his ear, low and way too close. It felt like his entire body buzzed with the sound and he jerked up, ripping the pillow from his face.
"What the hell Becca! You scared the shit out of me."
"What?" Becca asked, looking at him in surprise.
Jamie stared. Becca was still sitting in the chair across from him. He rubbed his ear. "Did you do some sort of wind thingy with your voice?"
"Uh...no," Becca said.
"They're coming," the voice whispered and again it was so close and with it the buzz, like electricity buzzing down his body. He jumped to his feet, twirling. "Who's there?" Jamie shouted.
There was nothing, no one there, but him. He looked back at Becca, ready to ask if she was playing a prank on him, but she was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands clutched at the pillow in her lap.
"Jamie you're starting to freak me out."
Jamie stared at Becca and opened his mouth when suddenly everything rushed at him, hundreds, no thousands, of voice pushing into his ear. Their voices like a crowd injecting directly into his ear until he felt like his brain would begin hemorrhaging as it raced to understand it all. He clutched at his ears, digging his nails into his skin as he fell to the ground.
"Stop. It's too much. STOP!"
Everything went silent, abruptly. Jamie panted on the ground. Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his ears and looked around him. He jerked back. Becca was half out of her seat with her hand reaching out to him, her eyes wide. She was still, locked in a motion interrupted.
"Becca?"
Nothing. All around him there was an eerie quietness.
"What's going on?"
"Words. The universe. Little time. Run." It was the whispered voice. More urgent, but also something else, almost disjointed.
"I don't understand," Jamie said shakily. Sweat beaded across his skin. He wondered if this was what madness felt like.
"The door. Run!" The urgency in the voice grew stronger.
Fear trickled down Jamie's body and then he began to move. He knew he should hurry, but his steps were hesitant. He reached the door. Taking a breath he opened the door. Men in SWAT gear stood at his door. They too were frozen. Jamie's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head.
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie demanded.
"Run. Time is running out."
Jamie opened his mouth to again demand answers when he saw a twitch. One of the SWAT men had moved his finger. It was just a twitch, but the fingers brushed over shiny black metal. A gun. They had a gun. Of course, they did. Even in a world with powers, a gun could still end a battle just as decisively as anything. Jamie's body went cold. Was this a battle? But why? What had he done?
"Run. Run. Run," the voice said insistently.
Jamie looked back. "But Becca."
The voice was silent. One of the men turned his head, only a little, but it was just enough for Jamie to make out cold blue eyes hidden behind the faceguard.
Jamie ran and the world started up again. | Once again, the sound of languages coagulated in my head as I desperately tried to type out my college admissions essays. I wanted to scream: at the lady bragging about how she cheated on her husband, at the boys screaming about Fortnite, and at the tourists harassing the Hispanic lady next to me.
But it's not like I could write at home. Who could? While I became well-versed in the language of human tongues outside, they at least drowned out the haunting cries of broken glass. The curse words I didn't understand as a child caught up to me in my dreams and ears, ringing noises shattering every creative thought I had. If I could at least find a distraction to wash away the language of crying glass, of that disgusted beer bottle watching us pass over him, and of the tired glass bowls at the Gelato shop across from me.
The languages all played simultaneously in my head as my hands twitched over the keyboard. Again. Again. Louder. Louder. In the back of it all was not the heartbreaking sound of glass but a polyphonic whinge. When the other languages dwindled, as their speakers moved to better places, the whinging sound only grew louder. Unlike the other languages, I couldn't immediately understand this language. Words flowed past my mind with no real meaning: laundry anger communal washing machine, harder faster better stronger, whisper not yell, climb the shop, social circles, to be an admissions officer you must, live peacefully, at the beach there is ice cream for you, the note you're playing is flat, and top shop.
Trying to understand these messages slowly drove me insane and I knew it. What was the connection? Why would the universe, or whatever omnipotent creature, send me these snippets of words and advice spoken to other people? It's not that I don't understand other people. I understand them because I can speak to anybody who I please to. My typing broke off as I looked at the first word of every phrase. Punctuated by meaningless phrases - like introns in the universe's messaging system - stood a disturbing message. *Climb social circles to live at the top.* Well, even if the universe told me to network more, I still wouldn't do it well enough to "live at the top".
Why do all of my languages default to English translations?
"No me importa! Creo que esta es feo y por lo tanto, no la quiero llevar para ver a Marco. You're so pushy. No te consideras mio - sabe que es incorrecto mama - pero..." Always translated into English in my head. Mother language I suppose?
My understanding isn't that limited.
I can't understand them as humans not because there's something wrong with me. I'm empathetic. I'm empathetic. I can slip into anyone's shoes.
*Why do you think you're so special? Won't you believe me? You are fucking trash and all you can do is mop floors or gamble. Listen to me, I'm just trying to give you advice, it's not like I'm trying to kill you.*
I open my eyes to broken glass and cuts all over my skin. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | It was supposed to be exciting. Jamie wanted flames that poured from his hands or strength that could knock down walls. After years of being mediocre, turning 18 was his time to shine. Instead, he got...languages? It was stupid. His power was supposed to be a reflection of who he was. Jamie had failed Spanish not just once, but twice. Well, at least this meant he wouldn't have to worry about failing it a third time.
"Maybe it's because you've been worry about passing Spanish," Becca said with a shrug, as she snuggled deeper into the gray sofa chair that was probably the best piece of furniture he had in his one-bedroom apartment.
"Weren't you the one who said Spanish was easy?" Jamie glared at his best friend.
"It's not my fault you suck at languages. Or you used to." Becca tilted her head, her brown hair brushing across her shoulders. "Does that count as cheating?"
Jamie threw a pillow at Becca, but she raised her finger and a gust of wind redirected his cotton artillery and it landed neatly in Becca's lap.
He glared at Becca who just laughed. Jamie slumped back on his much less comfortable couch and dragged a pillow over his face. "What the hell, universe?" He groaned.
"You're so dramatic," Becca said and Jamie could imagine her rolling her eyes. "Hey, but this means you can travel anywhere in the world or be a spy."
"Do you not want it?" a voice whispered by his ear, low and way too close. It felt like his entire body buzzed with the sound and he jerked up, ripping the pillow from his face.
"What the hell Becca! You scared the shit out of me."
"What?" Becca asked, looking at him in surprise.
Jamie stared. Becca was still sitting in the chair across from him. He rubbed his ear. "Did you do some sort of wind thingy with your voice?"
"Uh...no," Becca said.
"They're coming," the voice whispered and again it was so close and with it the buzz, like electricity buzzing down his body. He jumped to his feet, twirling. "Who's there?" Jamie shouted.
There was nothing, no one there, but him. He looked back at Becca, ready to ask if she was playing a prank on him, but she was staring at him with wide eyes. Her hands clutched at the pillow in her lap.
"Jamie you're starting to freak me out."
Jamie stared at Becca and opened his mouth when suddenly everything rushed at him, hundreds, no thousands, of voice pushing into his ear. Their voices like a crowd injecting directly into his ear until he felt like his brain would begin hemorrhaging as it raced to understand it all. He clutched at his ears, digging his nails into his skin as he fell to the ground.
"Stop. It's too much. STOP!"
Everything went silent, abruptly. Jamie panted on the ground. Slowly, he pulled his hands away from his ears and looked around him. He jerked back. Becca was half out of her seat with her hand reaching out to him, her eyes wide. She was still, locked in a motion interrupted.
"Becca?"
Nothing. All around him there was an eerie quietness.
"What's going on?"
"Words. The universe. Little time. Run." It was the whispered voice. More urgent, but also something else, almost disjointed.
"I don't understand," Jamie said shakily. Sweat beaded across his skin. He wondered if this was what madness felt like.
"The door. Run!" The urgency in the voice grew stronger.
Fear trickled down Jamie's body and then he began to move. He knew he should hurry, but his steps were hesitant. He reached the door. Taking a breath he opened the door. Men in SWAT gear stood at his door. They too were frozen. Jamie's eyes felt like they were going to fall out of his head.
"What the hell is going on?" Jamie demanded.
"Run. Time is running out."
Jamie opened his mouth to again demand answers when he saw a twitch. One of the SWAT men had moved his finger. It was just a twitch, but the fingers brushed over shiny black metal. A gun. They had a gun. Of course, they did. Even in a world with powers, a gun could still end a battle just as decisively as anything. Jamie's body went cold. Was this a battle? But why? What had he done?
"Run. Run. Run," the voice said insistently.
Jamie looked back. "But Becca."
The voice was silent. One of the men turned his head, only a little, but it was just enough for Jamie to make out cold blue eyes hidden behind the faceguard.
Jamie ran and the world started up again. | "You want me to what now?" I spouted.
It had been ten years since I had awakened this gift. For the first year, I had wallowed in the shame of not being able to be a hero like so many of my peers. Slowly but surely though, I had transformed into a man who could easily jump between high paying jobs with confidence. There were too many clients and not enough of me.
"We want you to be a representative for Earth. You are uniquely gifted for this position, Desmond. Once we find life out there, you will be the one who brings us in harmony with them."
They had to fill me in on some details before I accepted the position. Apparently, due to the work of some hyperintelligent blessed, a form of FTL travel was developed. Quantum tunneling they called it. It was beyond any form of FTL travel in the science fiction books I read as a kid. Humanity now had instant access to any point in the universe simply by opening a portal. We were finally about to escape this wasted planet, to spread our wings, to become more than just humanity. The universe was about to become a lot smaller.
...
...
...
Except it didn't. It turned out there was a lot more beyond the observable universe. Our original estimate for the size of the universe was... incorrect, to put it lightly. We managed to jump past all matter in the universe by putting in an absurdly large number, but finding the actual end to the universe by jumping OUs, or Observable Universes, appeared to be an impossible task. In addition, the universe scouters couldn't find any form of intelligent life in any OU.
...
Years had passed. Humanity had already escaped Earth and designated it as a wildlife reservation planet. Our home had become, for all intents and purposes, a museum for future generations. We slowly crept out, creating what our government designated the "quantum web", a series of locations that we regularly quantum tunnel between.
It had been years since I accepted my position as Earth's representative. I had been living a comfy life with my family when...
"We got a transmission." the person on the other end of the call said.
I was escorted to the nearest observation station to translate the message.
"What does it say, Desmond?"
With a pale face and shaky voice, I murmured "...it's... not friendly, sir. Have we been sending anything that could be described as 'noise'?"
"Hmm. Well, the only thing that comes to mind is the cultural transmission. It contains a description of our languages, our cultures, and our unique powers. We've been using quantum tunneling to send the transmitter throughout space.
"..."
"What does the message say, Desmond?"
I was too shocked to say it out loud, so I wrote it down.
QUIT MAKING NOISE, WATERBAGS, OR WE WILL TERMINATE YOUR INFESTED WEB OF PLANETS. |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | "*Are you going to water me at all*?"
Desmond Cooper dropped his mug, spat out a mouthful of coffee all over his dining table, and sprang to his feet, staring wildly around.
"Who said that?" he demanded. He fumbled around in his pockets for his phone, and dialed two digits. "I've already got the 'nine' and the 'one' dialed on my phone. Show yourself now and explain and maybe I won't call the cops!"
"*Oh please, by all means call them, maybe* they'll *spare me some water*," the voice repeated snidely.
Desmond whipped round and round, surveying every inch of his small and shabby living room, his fear growing with every look.
"Who are you?" he said shakily.
"*Turn around, hon*," the voice instructed, rather lazily. Desmond hastily complied, but saw nothing but the plant that the neighbours had given him in welcome to the neighbourhood. Now that he looked at it, he saw that the leaves were browning. Forgetting for a moment what was happening, he strode over to it and moved it into a darker part of the room.
"*Ah, that's better*," came the voice again. Desmond jumped in alarm, crashing against the entertainment center and sending his brand new, unused flat screen toppling over.
"*Oh this is just getting ridiculous*." The voice sounded impatient now. "*I'm right here, you just picked me up*!"
Desmond stared. It couldn't be. There was no way —
"*Yes, you dolt, you're talking to a plant*." His mouth fell open; he rushed over to the pot, staring at it in disbelief. Almost experimentally, he brushed his finger against a leaf.
"*Ooh! You naughty boy*!" the voice crooned.
Desmond sank straight to the floor, eyes wide, jaw dropped. "I'm going crazy. This is a result of sleep deprivation," he suggested to himself, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I had too much coffee. Walter slipped me something in my juice this morning — F**KING WALTER!" Desmond roared, standing up, his eyes snapping back into focus. "Yes, Walter did this —"
"*No, you idiot*," the voice said calmly. "*You're in perfect mental health. You've just unlocked your Gift*."
"Gift?" Desmond demanded, astonished at himself for actually conversing with a plant — if it was indeed a plant and not the result of some practical joke — but pressing on anyway. "What Gift?"
"*Everyone gets them when they reach 18, but you've had such a stressful life it took a longer time for yours to kick in ... You're a Galaxitongue*," it said simply.
"A what?" Desmond snapped.
"*A Galaxitongue. You know how different cultures have different languages? Well, the universe as a whole speaks one. Every living thing — animals, humans, plants — gives off a certain* energy *like a vibration, or something. And some people — like yourself — are able to interpret them into a language that they can understand. Basically, you're a universal translator*," it finished brightly.
Desmond mouthed soundlessly for a few seconds. It seemed for a moment that he was slowly coming to terms with what he was hearing — but then a man passed by his house, roaring with laughter. Desmond's expression hardened, his eyes popped, and he strode out of the house, bellowing, "WALTER!"
"*Idiot*," said the plant. "*Oh shoot, I forgot to remind him about the water*!"
----------------------------------------------
Wow, this was really fun to write. Unfortunately, I was halfway through before I remembered that they were supposed to be 18 *when* the power came in, but I couldn't rewrite so I just continued. Hope you liked it! | The Great Dragoman stared out at a galaxy of stars cocooning the balcony, the silence a perfect tenor to his mood. Deep in the back of his mind came an incessant whisper, his mental shield blocking out the madness of the cosmos.
"My Lord," a voice whispered behind him. The Dragoman turned to see his servant Vulnir kneeling respectfully before him.
"The Last Alliance are moments away. They will destroy this holy sanctuary."
"And yet here you remain," The Dragoman murmured, his voice carrying an ethereal echo as if spoken across time and space.
"As do all who serve you, Great One. We have faith in you. We will not waver in our beliefs."
"You are wise to believe so, child. The universe hears your prayers, it will offer you salvation in this life or the next."
Vulnir kissed the Dragoman's feet in supplication before leaving the Almighty's presence.
The Great Dragoman turned his attention back to the vastness of space, his eyes beginning to make out the moving pricks of light that marked the fleet coming to destroy him.
Without hesitation, he let the voice of the universe back into his thoughts.
Life had been so simple once. Just a small boy, a street-urchin buried in the warrens of the city-world, Fenator. At eighteen, like everyone else the boy had prayed for some great power to lift him from his impoverished existence. If only he had known. The moment the voice spoke to him, a terrible madness overcame the child's mind. Fenator imploded only moments later. The boy pulled from existence into something else, somewhere else.
Time had no meaning in that place, only the thoughts of the universe merited any passage of existence. Here the boy learned to communicate with the ephemeral voice. Learned to use it, control it. In time the universe became little more than a beast to his will.
Here now, he returned to the people's of the universe, a god for all intents. The followers came readily, and those who resisted shared the same fate as Fenator. A thousand worlds burned as such, testaments to the will and power of the Great Dragoman.
In the cold darkness of space a sea of ships began to fire as one at the temple station. The blackness of the universe hidden by the blinding light of damnation.
The Dragoman told the universe what to do.
Behind the fleet, a small hole in the fabric of space teared open, barely the size of an atom. The void began to grow, a black hole ready to devour them all.
Those who defied the universe would die.
[Check out more of my stories on my subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/user/wolfbeaumont) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | They say that when everyone is special, no one is special. *Not true,* I used to say. Look at the most powerful heroes of the generation - X-Zero, Crowstorm, Magenta...all of them exceptions even among the exceptional, with abilities that seem to defy the laws of physics.
My power was ordinary among extraordinary. "My condolences," said the Coordinator, when the silver screen finished processing my activated DNA and displayed my ability. "It's a C-tier ability at best, but hey - I've known great translators who went on to do great things. Diplomatic services, and the like."
Mom and Dad weren't as worried, but that was even worse. "You don't need to achieve much in life, Sally," Dad said. "Just keep by the straight and narrow and earn an honest living."
"Your Dad and I did that, and we're away from all the danger," Mom added. "Look at those crazy loons fighting each other, warring over who knows what. Let them kill each other, I say."
*No,* said a part of me. It wasn't until a few years later, when I was acting as a desk translator for a nameless startup that I realized something very important.
*You finally figured it out,* inner-me said. *Your ability helps you communicate with me, your unconscious mind as well. Isn't that something?*
*Not everyone can do this?* I asked. *Isn't the unconscious mind just a part of you?*
*It is, but most people can't hear us like you can. We can talk with ourselves whenever we want.*
I blinked. *That barely made sense, but okay. Let's work through it together.*
And so I...or we, rather, quit our dead-end job and started traveling. We entered a buddhist monastery and learned from schools of thought who had tapped into their inner selves.
I was meditating on a mountain when both me and inner came alive. It was like molten lava running through our veins as a whisper entered our ears and crackled through all synapses firing like lightning. That made no sense. That made perfect sense.
The voice of the universe.
It was the rumbling in the creek, the sibilant hiss of the wind, the yawn of the rising sun and the mournful howl of the coming dusk. We spoke to it, as one, and it spoke back.
*Beauty lies in everything,* it said. *But what meaning does beauty have if there is no one left to appreciate? You must stop the Calamity.*
*What is the Calamity?* I asked alongside inner-me. *And how can we stop it?*
There was no answer, but as we sat there and meditated in the midst of leafy bamboo, on a high peak clothed in wreaths of fog, I listened. And I *understood*.
"Check this out, inner," I muttered under my breath. Raising my palm, I spoke to the wind.
It spoke back.
---
Thanks for reading! Come hang out with me at [/r/Remyxed](https://www.reddit.com/r/Remyxed/), we'd love to see you around :) | The Great Dragoman stared out at a galaxy of stars cocooning the balcony, the silence a perfect tenor to his mood. Deep in the back of his mind came an incessant whisper, his mental shield blocking out the madness of the cosmos.
"My Lord," a voice whispered behind him. The Dragoman turned to see his servant Vulnir kneeling respectfully before him.
"The Last Alliance are moments away. They will destroy this holy sanctuary."
"And yet here you remain," The Dragoman murmured, his voice carrying an ethereal echo as if spoken across time and space.
"As do all who serve you, Great One. We have faith in you. We will not waver in our beliefs."
"You are wise to believe so, child. The universe hears your prayers, it will offer you salvation in this life or the next."
Vulnir kissed the Dragoman's feet in supplication before leaving the Almighty's presence.
The Great Dragoman turned his attention back to the vastness of space, his eyes beginning to make out the moving pricks of light that marked the fleet coming to destroy him.
Without hesitation, he let the voice of the universe back into his thoughts.
Life had been so simple once. Just a small boy, a street-urchin buried in the warrens of the city-world, Fenator. At eighteen, like everyone else the boy had prayed for some great power to lift him from his impoverished existence. If only he had known. The moment the voice spoke to him, a terrible madness overcame the child's mind. Fenator imploded only moments later. The boy pulled from existence into something else, somewhere else.
Time had no meaning in that place, only the thoughts of the universe merited any passage of existence. Here the boy learned to communicate with the ephemeral voice. Learned to use it, control it. In time the universe became little more than a beast to his will.
Here now, he returned to the people's of the universe, a god for all intents. The followers came readily, and those who resisted shared the same fate as Fenator. A thousand worlds burned as such, testaments to the will and power of the Great Dragoman.
In the cold darkness of space a sea of ships began to fire as one at the temple station. The blackness of the universe hidden by the blinding light of damnation.
The Dragoman told the universe what to do.
Behind the fleet, a small hole in the fabric of space teared open, barely the size of an atom. The void began to grow, a black hole ready to devour them all.
Those who defied the universe would die.
[Check out more of my stories on my subreddit](https://www.reddit.com/user/wolfbeaumont) |
Sorry for the double you, my bad | [WP] At the age of 18, every person develops a magical power. Yours is the power to fluently read and speak every language in the universe. At first you thought the had the worst power on earth, that was until you you realise that the universe has it's own language. | They say that when everyone is special, no one is special. *Not true,* I used to say. Look at the most powerful heroes of the generation - X-Zero, Crowstorm, Magenta...all of them exceptions even among the exceptional, with abilities that seem to defy the laws of physics.
My power was ordinary among extraordinary. "My condolences," said the Coordinator, when the silver screen finished processing my activated DNA and displayed my ability. "It's a C-tier ability at best, but hey - I've known great translators who went on to do great things. Diplomatic services, and the like."
Mom and Dad weren't as worried, but that was even worse. "You don't need to achieve much in life, Sally," Dad said. "Just keep by the straight and narrow and earn an honest living."
"Your Dad and I did that, and we're away from all the danger," Mom added. "Look at those crazy loons fighting each other, warring over who knows what. Let them kill each other, I say."
*No,* said a part of me. It wasn't until a few years later, when I was acting as a desk translator for a nameless startup that I realized something very important.
*You finally figured it out,* inner-me said. *Your ability helps you communicate with me, your unconscious mind as well. Isn't that something?*
*Not everyone can do this?* I asked. *Isn't the unconscious mind just a part of you?*
*It is, but most people can't hear us like you can. We can talk with ourselves whenever we want.*
I blinked. *That barely made sense, but okay. Let's work through it together.*
And so I...or we, rather, quit our dead-end job and started traveling. We entered a buddhist monastery and learned from schools of thought who had tapped into their inner selves.
I was meditating on a mountain when both me and inner came alive. It was like molten lava running through our veins as a whisper entered our ears and crackled through all synapses firing like lightning. That made no sense. That made perfect sense.
The voice of the universe.
It was the rumbling in the creek, the sibilant hiss of the wind, the yawn of the rising sun and the mournful howl of the coming dusk. We spoke to it, as one, and it spoke back.
*Beauty lies in everything,* it said. *But what meaning does beauty have if there is no one left to appreciate? You must stop the Calamity.*
*What is the Calamity?* I asked alongside inner-me. *And how can we stop it?*
There was no answer, but as we sat there and meditated in the midst of leafy bamboo, on a high peak clothed in wreaths of fog, I listened. And I *understood*.
"Check this out, inner," I muttered under my breath. Raising my palm, I spoke to the wind.
It spoke back.
---
Thanks for reading! Come hang out with me at [/r/Remyxed](https://www.reddit.com/r/Remyxed/), we'd love to see you around :) | "*Are you going to water me at all*?"
Desmond Cooper dropped his mug, spat out a mouthful of coffee all over his dining table, and sprang to his feet, staring wildly around.
"Who said that?" he demanded. He fumbled around in his pockets for his phone, and dialed two digits. "I've already got the 'nine' and the 'one' dialed on my phone. Show yourself now and explain and maybe I won't call the cops!"
"*Oh please, by all means call them, maybe* they'll *spare me some water*," the voice repeated snidely.
Desmond whipped round and round, surveying every inch of his small and shabby living room, his fear growing with every look.
"Who are you?" he said shakily.
"*Turn around, hon*," the voice instructed, rather lazily. Desmond hastily complied, but saw nothing but the plant that the neighbours had given him in welcome to the neighbourhood. Now that he looked at it, he saw that the leaves were browning. Forgetting for a moment what was happening, he strode over to it and moved it into a darker part of the room.
"*Ah, that's better*," came the voice again. Desmond jumped in alarm, crashing against the entertainment center and sending his brand new, unused flat screen toppling over.
"*Oh this is just getting ridiculous*." The voice sounded impatient now. "*I'm right here, you just picked me up*!"
Desmond stared. It couldn't be. There was no way —
"*Yes, you dolt, you're talking to a plant*." His mouth fell open; he rushed over to the pot, staring at it in disbelief. Almost experimentally, he brushed his finger against a leaf.
"*Ooh! You naughty boy*!" the voice crooned.
Desmond sank straight to the floor, eyes wide, jaw dropped. "I'm going crazy. This is a result of sleep deprivation," he suggested to himself, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I had too much coffee. Walter slipped me something in my juice this morning — F**KING WALTER!" Desmond roared, standing up, his eyes snapping back into focus. "Yes, Walter did this —"
"*No, you idiot*," the voice said calmly. "*You're in perfect mental health. You've just unlocked your Gift*."
"Gift?" Desmond demanded, astonished at himself for actually conversing with a plant — if it was indeed a plant and not the result of some practical joke — but pressing on anyway. "What Gift?"
"*Everyone gets them when they reach 18, but you've had such a stressful life it took a longer time for yours to kick in ... You're a Galaxitongue*," it said simply.
"A what?" Desmond snapped.
"*A Galaxitongue. You know how different cultures have different languages? Well, the universe as a whole speaks one. Every living thing — animals, humans, plants — gives off a certain* energy *like a vibration, or something. And some people — like yourself — are able to interpret them into a language that they can understand. Basically, you're a universal translator*," it finished brightly.
Desmond mouthed soundlessly for a few seconds. It seemed for a moment that he was slowly coming to terms with what he was hearing — but then a man passed by his house, roaring with laughter. Desmond's expression hardened, his eyes popped, and he strode out of the house, bellowing, "WALTER!"
"*Idiot*," said the plant. "*Oh shoot, I forgot to remind him about the water*!"
----------------------------------------------
Wow, this was really fun to write. Unfortunately, I was halfway through before I remembered that they were supposed to be 18 *when* the power came in, but I couldn't rewrite so I just continued. Hope you liked it! |
[WP] Merfolk have finally emerged from the ocean, ready for diplomatic relations. As they finish listing off their current demands and needs, someone asks why “no pollution” wasn’t mentioned. | The question was on everyone's mind yet few were brave enough to spit out the words. Synchronised nods in agreement with the question posed were seen through the environmentalist panel on the humans representative party in the first ever global conference held between 2 different species.
The Merfolk had emerged in sweeping waves around the world. Their arrival came in installments; first sighting was in the early hours of morning in Eastern Brazil, 2 weeks ago. That was shortly followed by several 'occurrences'; Merfolk popped up in Europe, Africa, North America, in a week, their presence was ubiquitous across the coastlines of many nations.
The natural instinct when confronted with something unfamiliar is to be defensive until you can understand it better, and the more these Merfolk washed up ashore, the more humans grew uneasy at the prospect of a potential enemy we have no understanding of.
The internet was ablaze with videos, pictures and stories about these Merfolk. Forums were overflowing with posts describing these humanoid figures, walking upright with feet that seemed to blend with any surface they touched. Their skin was unnaturally soft and smooth as if they were covered in a thin layer of translucent silk. Their eyes were black holes surrounded by a thin outline of white. Those eyes seemed to look into your soul, and eye contact was unnerving.
You could see the outline of their bone structures, as they stood there with a flat bone where a nose would be on a human, and elongated necks that housed 5 gill slits on either side.
The initial reaction by many was to take up arms, but the UN stepped in and managed to establish contact with their leaders. And so we found ourselves here in New York, the whole world watching as history unfolded, every leader of every nation seated in the UN general assemblies special conference between Merfolk and Humans. The atmosphere was tense, when the Merfolk's representative took the platform to present their list. One by one he went through every point, the whole assembly was silent and attentive, hanging onto every word the Merfolk said.
The human panel was dreadfully anticipating the mention of plastic pollution, and to their surprise, it wasn't. Only a long monologue on the noises battleships make, and the problem of overfishing by humans, nothing on plastic. Until the Merfolk concluded his list of demands and proceeded to leave the podium, "My fellow delegate will take the podium and expound further on our intentions in building the relationship with humans.
That was when one of the lead activists on the environmentalists panel present in the Assembly proceeded to ask notably " what about plastic? Is that not an issue for you Merfolk? There's just too much plastic pollution for to just ignore IG like that"
"Well actually" said Scuddard, a Merfolk who had been seen as a representative of the Elite class in the Merfolk society. He rose with perfect posture, almost like that of a human, his thin blue tongue had a good command of the English language, even though his speech had a slight lisp, "that is what I would like to discuss with you humans, on behalf of the Merfolk delegation" he proceeded to the podium, with a solemn expression on his face, implying that what he was about to say was of specific importance.
"My kind has lived for Millennia in the deepest depths of the Ocean you could reach. We have evolved over time as a species, and have made some applaudable attempts at advancing our civilisation. Yet our predicament seemed to be our biggest blessing, we had all of this water around us, but couldn't build any lasting infrastructure to carry our civilisation forward." He paused, and took a sip of bottled water, "Gosh I haven't tasted water this pure, but as I was saying; infrastructure has been one thing holding us back as a civilisation, some ship wrecks would land around our homes, and we would take those scraps of metals and try to assemble some shelter, as time went, the structure would wither away and be rusted by water. All of this changed when we discovered the wonder liquid, that which you called plastic."
There were murmurs around the assembly as Scuddard delivered his speech, confusion was on the faces of the environmentalists panel as he continued... " Plastic has propelled my people to unimagined heights, we have built cities spanning thousands of leagues with this impermeable substance you have created. That along with other factors have helped us develop infrastructure and weapons we thought weren't possible before. Our research and documentation has taken off, we've even managed to study the Earths Core. Now all we want from you Humans, is to create more of plastic"
Gasps and exclamations bellowed throughout the entire assembly, "More" a voice said amongst the muffled voices filling the room. Social media immediately went wild, with hashtags and memes.
Back in the assembly, Scuddard stood with a grin across his flat face. Confusion and muffled questions all around him. It seems one man's trash is another Merfolk's treasure... | Lise finished her speech with confidence. The people on the beach continued to stare at her in both admiration and horror. She'd like to think she did a very good job. Perhaps they were already willing to agree. That was easy.
Then a hand rose from the crowd. It was a blond man holding up a surf board. He was tan and had white teeth. "What about pollution?"
"What," Lise said. Her brows raised.
"Pollution, you know," the blond man said. He scratched his head. "All the oil and gunk that ends up in the ocean. Wouldn't you want that gone?"
"Oil and gunk," Lise murmured. *What oil and gunk?* She leaned over to Randall who was standing next to her. "What's pollution?"
"*You don't* know *what pollution is, Lise?*" He exclaimed in a whisper.
"I was given a list of demands from father," she quickly exclaimed. She could see the humans in front of them beginning to get tired of waiting, the weight of their legs shifting. "He said nothing about pollution."
"Privileged girl," Randall muttered. "You've never had to travel far enough to see the pollution. Poseidon keeps you too sheltered."
"Well, what do I say?" She asked bitterly, ignoring his insults.
"I'll handle it." Randell stepped forward. "We want you to gather most of the pollution and bring it to the Atlantic Ocean."
The crowd of humans began to speak amongst themselves. A mother standing with her family raised her hand again. "You want us to bring it all to the Atlantic Ocean? Why? How does that make any difference?"
"Other merfolk live in the Atlantic parts. It isn't our problem if it's over there."
Lise's eyes widened. "That's your resolution, Randall!"
"The Atlantic folks are jerks, anyways," he told her. "If anything, they deserve it.
"You just say that only because your ex moved to that ocean." Randall bristled at her words but didn't argue back. They both knew it was true.
"I think we're just about done here," Randall finally said. He relaxed a little as the humans began to quiet once more.
"What do we do now?" Lise asked.
"We wait for the news to cause an uproar and then soon enough, the humans will begin to do as we say." He seemed so relaxed in his answer.
"And if they don't?"
"They will," he said confidentially. "They always do." | |
[WP] Merfolk have finally emerged from the ocean, ready for diplomatic relations. As they finish listing off their current demands and needs, someone asks why “no pollution” wasn’t mentioned. | We laughed when we saw them emerge from the waves.
Perhaps it was their walk, if it can even be called a walk-- their fins slapped awkwardly against the sand, then tore as they moved toward the hard, manmade roads.
Those who touched their bloodstained path were the first to die.
Perhaps it was their strange adornment. How proudly they limped through the crowds of human with their arms ringed with aluminum cans, skin shining with petroleum, and hair tangled with plastic utensils.
"Savages," we giggled. "Do you think they'll start singing 'Part of your World'?"
Perhaps it was their communication. Wild gyrations and spasms were broadcasted around the world. We enjoyed mocking their language, making videos of our imitations. We thought that the Merfolk were too simpleminded to understand.
They did not understand, but they were far from simpleminded.
A conference with the world leaders was made, and the two parties met: the people of the land and the people of the sea. One stepped forward and presented the List. No words were needed, for the List gave all the information needed.
First, it explained that the Merfolk were an ancient race that greatly admired those that lived on Land. They had never come in contact before because they did not believe that had the right to fraternize with such blessed beings, who given them tools.
When asked about the tools, they silently jerked out their plastic-wrapped appendages.
Then, the List went on to describe the Merfolk's longing to finally connect with humans. It wasn't a lack of respect, no. They wanted to help us, for they realized that they had the power to dissipate one of our greatest fears: illness.
A crusty plastic water bottled rolled from the party of Merfolks and into the center of the room. Its dark liquid held the attention of every leader, every camera, every person.
Finally, the List set forth the tradeoff. In exchange for the liquid, they only wanted information, anything and everything, ranging from dictionary definitions to fun facts to mathematical theorems.
The leaders were shocked, and asked for time to consider. The Merfolk agreed; they knew that they had us. As they waddled out the door, one human leader-- Swedish, if memory serves me-- piped up.
"What about the pollution in the sea?"
The other leaders stared at her furiously. How could she let such a fantastic deal go? There was no need to worry, however. Only one Merfolk bothered to turn. He blinked slowly (the only blink that had been detected by those present), spasmed briefly, and left.
After that, it was all a rush. The liquid was tested. Rats, dogs, and chimps that were dying from human-induced cancers miraculously recovered. The lights were green within a few months, and the first human patient was tested. Li Jiashen was a 67-year old patient with a dangerous form of cancer; he was set to die the following week. One sip later, not a trace of illness could be found in his body.
The public could no longer be stopped. Hand shook flipper, and the treaty was unanimously signed.
The black liquid became known as "Q" for ubiquitous, for ubiquitous it became. See, it wasn't just a supposed medicine. Just a teaspoon was enough the enhance the flavor of the dish tenfold, and it somehow paired well with everything-- except, ironically, seafood. Someone found out when fed to livestock, the animals grew bigger and produced better meat. Soon enough, people realized that water diluted with Q could be used to produce huge, delectable produce. Within a few decades, all foods and medicines had been poisoned-- if not completely replaced-- with Q.
But our information started running out. It was almost forty decades after the first meeting. All the books had been shared, even the questionable romance novels\\. All the math problems had been given, even the ones we couldn't wrap our minds around. All the science, the laws, the history, the trivial facts-- everything.
Some desperately looked for more information. Others begged the Merfolk for Q, but to no avail. There was a deal that had been made, and the humans could not fulfill their end of the deal.
The devotees went first. Just like the Merfolk worshipped us, there were people on land that worshipped them. When not tracing the bloody paths the Merfolk had walked so long ago, they sat by the sea. They littered their hair with trash and sipped Q, staring at the Merfolks' reflective eyes and whispering any information they could think of.
There were never very many of them. And then there were none.
Then, the youth started disappearing. People who had never had a bite of Q-less food in their life were gone; whole families, couples, and children. An older woman-- Jenna McIntosh-- finally showed the world what was going on when she streamed her son, Sean, stumbling out of the house.
*In the video, she asks what he's doing. He doesn't respond. She says his name once, twice. No response. She grabs him, and finally he notices her.*
*"Hey Mom, can you hear the singing? It's like Q, but better."*
*His voice is calm, his eyes are clear. Jenna's confused at first. She cocks her head, straining. Listening.*
*"Oh. Yes. Let's go see what it is."*
*The two of them walk out of the house.*
More videos started popping up. Around the world, hordes of people were walking into the ocean, letting the salty brine-- now dark from years of careless pollution-- seep into their clothes, mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. They'd vanish beneath the waves, and their bodies would never be found. As the procession trundled along, the Merfolk watched. If not for the slight movement of their lips, as if they were humming a lullaby, one might believe that they were statues.
People were afraid, of course. Panicked posts flooded social media. I too was afraid, which is why I began recording this to begin with. I was afraid that humans would be forgotten. That I would be forgotten.
I know now that this is ridiculous because the Merfolk remember everything.
Their sweet song explained this to me as I wrote at my desk, and then as I drove.
I am almost where I need to be. | The Chief Merman advanced on the president, and brandished his trident. Gone was the soft voice, the respectful smile from the first day he had emerged, the start of their negotiations.
And now they were here, at the end of the mass genocide of the human race. It had all happened so quickly, on the fifth of August, the beaches of Brazil the new Normandy.
But the president couldn’t blame anyone but himself, for forgetting his own number one rule.
“We’re all the same,” the Chief paraphrased, coming to rest his robo-body on the desk. “We’re just like you, in the end. You should have expected that.”
“And what’s that?”
“Brutal and greedy and selfish.”
“You read Thomas Hobbes much?” the president muttered, huddled miserably in the corner of the Oval Office, his gun long since out of bullets.
“What?”
“Some writer. I’m sure you would have been friends.”
The Chief rose from the desk, and advanced on the president.
“You understand, at least?”
“Of course. Can I just ask one thing?” the president said with the last of his dignity.
“I don’t see why not.”“Why did you not mention the pollution in your treaty? That’s part of why I wondered if your terms were too good to be true. Fresh supplies of meat from the ocean, in exchange for total autonomy and non-regulation of all waters, and that's all you ask for? We were prepared to grant that request, should you have ever asked for it. But you never did.”
The Chief looked outside the window, at the chaos outside.
“You never wondered why, out of all the creatures in the ocean, we emerged?”
“Because you…are like us.”
“Exactly. And humans are a resourceful bunch.”
“Right.”
“So…given all the free metal and plastics you dump on us, why would we not use it to our advantage?”
It dawned on the president. “That’s what…”
“Our legs and bodies are made of. Yes. And now, thanks to you, we can walk like you.”
The Chief raised his trident.
“Thank you,” he said tenderly to the president, before it all ended.
\-
[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347) | |
Have any of you guys read stories from a tree’s POV? I don’t think The Giving Tree counts soo... | [WP] Humanity’s greatest and most devastating war from the perspective of an old tree. | [Poem]
Over the hill another tree fell. No one was around but we heard it.
A brother, a sister, a twice-removed cousin, now sits an empty pit.
We could be next but we do not worry. Worse has been heard than a canon.
Death and destruction were here before. Fields of bodies aren’t barren.
Rats reap first harvest. Wolves may come; Flies and worms will not abstain.
As always the case with blood and decay, we will feed off what remains. | It was, the war to end all. Humans ravaged, and toiled along one another, as they always have, for most of my lifespans, but this, this was to be the worst.
For most of my existence, I had lived to protect the squirrels, and other lost animals. I am sad to say, that I could not protect them from the coming day. So silently, I watched. I watched as the guns blazed, as victories were won, in the sacrifice of us, of the ones who had existed long before them. If they continued, we would all fall. Not just them, but the foxes, the foxes, and sea farers, the nice blooming plants, and the children with bright eyes.
They needed an omen.
My nerves, slowly, began to grow weak. All the other trees were falling into the same predicament. It was not death, I promised my breaking leaves, but only rest.
I promised, only rest. Even as all the forests began to grow white and barren, even as branches began to snap. Only rest.
With the last of our eyes, on one small clear night, we watched. The humans had laid down their arms to stare at us all, and that is when the elder most tree, finally, spoke. |
Have any of you guys read stories from a tree’s POV? I don’t think The Giving Tree counts soo... | [WP] Humanity’s greatest and most devastating war from the perspective of an old tree. | Pretend for a minute that you are a tree. Go on. It's not so hard. Everyday, you stand still. No need to think, just bathe in the warm sun while the soil and the wind nourishes you. There is no pain, no happiness, no sadness, no fear, only living and growing.
There is no sight, for trees do not have eyes, right? Nor sound, for trees do not have ears. But that would make an awfully boring and perhaps nonsensical story; for a tree to grow and grow and only grow. So pretend that you're a bit of a special tree. Perhaps you cannot see, nor hear, but perhaps you can **feel**. Feel pain, happiness, sadness and fear, give yourself emotions. Perchance it might make for a more interesting story.
Now there have been many many trees since the beginning of time, so let's narrow down your tale. For interest's sake let's put you as a tree in eastern france or western germany say, in Lothringen. One of the greatest wars in human history; 1945, but you wouldn't care, you're a tree after all. What could human affairs, how sordid and distasteful they may be, matter to you? The only thing you feel is the vibrations in the ground increasing and the water turning hard and fetid with blood.
But you don't really know how to care. You've been here for long, too long. You've grown a trunk ten some meters wide and nearly a hundred meters tall. You've been untouched for centuries; save for the petty shrubs rubbing your bark or the occasional pine marten dripping some fertilizer near your roots. Your thoughts paddle through at a rate of an inch in a century and it takes more than thta to shock you.
I guess this is enough of a shock then. A bomb explodes, a hundred meters away from you. The shockwave rips apart half the trees around you. The rest are burning; you are luckily shielded by a few pine trees in front of you. Only a few leaves torn from your branches let you know something happened. At least till you feel it with your roots. The once crowded forest floor, the undergrowth, has been left conspicuously vacant. You try to shout out. What happened to all of you?! You shout. But you can't, you don't have a mouth, or a throat. The best you can do is feel the soil change. Charred wood and sulphur, it tastes like.
That was shock, then this is fear. You do not understand what is happening. Then pain, something smaller explodes near you! A grenade, its strong enough to shred your bark, exposing that cambium of yours. You feel pain, and fear. The insects on your body flee, in panic. Leaving you alone; you cannot leave. You are rooted to the spot. Bullets strike you, little pinpricks; not enough to hurt you. But still reminding you that something is different, and you might not be standing tomorrow.
The events repeat themselves from time to time, stripping the forest naked, bit by bit. You are the only tree left within three hundred meters. You cannot feel the next tree's roots. You are alone, you feel sadness. But you survive and quickly, for a tree, the war ends and the bombings stop. The humans leave, leaving only metal scraps and buried mines that animals occasionally trip and explode and remind you of the past.
You are the tallest tree now, for trees, your offspring, have started to regrow all around you. A senior, they murmur, or at least you imagine they do for unlike you they aren't special, they can't feel, they aren't even sad at the trees that once dotted the forest. You forget the past, you heal; slowly, your bark regrows, your roots reach out, your leaves pray to the sun.
What is that? The past years have been relatively quiet and peaceful, and the forest has regained its liveliness. You are happy, content at the state of things. Hoping that things stay this way. But alas! It cannot be. You feel it. At first a prick, then a chop, then another. It grows. You feel the vibrations of human footsteps like little ants around you. And slowly, but in an instant you are cut in half.
You retain your consciousness for a little while; just enough to learn that this time it isn't war, but that the humans have come for the trees, and the forest is bare once more. | It was, the war to end all. Humans ravaged, and toiled along one another, as they always have, for most of my lifespans, but this, this was to be the worst.
For most of my existence, I had lived to protect the squirrels, and other lost animals. I am sad to say, that I could not protect them from the coming day. So silently, I watched. I watched as the guns blazed, as victories were won, in the sacrifice of us, of the ones who had existed long before them. If they continued, we would all fall. Not just them, but the foxes, the foxes, and sea farers, the nice blooming plants, and the children with bright eyes.
They needed an omen.
My nerves, slowly, began to grow weak. All the other trees were falling into the same predicament. It was not death, I promised my breaking leaves, but only rest.
I promised, only rest. Even as all the forests began to grow white and barren, even as branches began to snap. Only rest.
With the last of our eyes, on one small clear night, we watched. The humans had laid down their arms to stare at us all, and that is when the elder most tree, finally, spoke. |
[WP] You're a necromancer in a weird position. Most people love you, most necromancer hate you. You see, you don't raise and command the dead, instead you lift up and encourage those who are dead inside. | Johnathan Sharp
Consulting Resurrectionist
*What the hell is a consulting resurrectionist, and how did this business card end up in my wallet?*
No "Johnathan Sharp" in common social media seem linked to that job title. The string "consulting resurrectionist" yields a no-results-found message in common search engines. On its own, "resurrectionist" leads to religious denominations, nineteenth-century grave robbers, and reactionary political figures. Nothing that even makes sense as a job title.
On the back of the card is a hand-written phone number, and the words "when you're ready".
Like curiosity wouldn't get the better of you.
-----
"Hello. You've reached the office of Sharp Consulting. How can I help you today?"
"Um, hi. I was, well, I was wondering what kind of work Sharp Consulting does."
"Johnathan Sharp operates as a certified life coach. His consultation specialty is lifestyle improvement. May I ask you how you've heard about Sharp Consulting?"
"Actually, I don't know. I have a business card that I don't remember picking up."
"Can you tell me whether there are any instructions for calling this phone number?"
"It says 'when you're ready'. Are those my instructions?"
"Those were your instructions. You are ready for a follow-up appointment. May I schedule you now?"
-----
Like curiosity wouldn't get the better of you. Hell, I throw on a suit for this meeting. Someone I don't know is telling me that I'm ready for something I never agreed to do. Someone is playing dark and mysterious under a a polished, professional veneer. Someone owes me an explanation.
His office is attached to a psychiatric clinic. The two buildings share a single parking lot. Strange place, for a self-improvement guru.
Stranger still to see a glowing body lying on the waiting room floor, and a man spouting foreign-sounding words from the clipboard in his hand.
"What the hell is going on here?" I ask, my words sounding far too calm in my own ears.
"Are you the crash-cart?" is the reply. His attention is divided between his clipboard and the body on the floor. I don't even have time to understand the question before the crash-cart makes its entrance. It's a hospital gurney from the clinic next door.
"Over here! It was an embolism in the temporal lobe. I've reconstructed enough of the arterial wall. I want you to get him stable, observe him overnight, and then consult with me on a resurrection of his lost memories."
I hear myself say, again, "what the hell?" and I see reception waving me over.
"Let me bring you to the consultation room. Mister Sharp will see you as soon as he's finished here. It doesn't look like it will be much longer."
Eh, what the hell.
-----
That what-the-hell why-not feeling started to die about fifteen minutes ago. As I stand to leave, the man himself walks through the open door.
"So sorry to keep you waiting. There was an emergency, as I'm sure you saw for yourself."
"What was going on out there?"
"A delivery courier dropped dead in front of reception. Stroke. I brought her back."
"Oh, I'm glad to hear that she was resuscitated."
"No, she wasn't. She was physically reconstructed and resurrected. Once her vitals are stable, I'll see what I can do to resurrect her mental function."
"What kind of doctor are you?"
"Oh, no no no. I'm no kind of doctor at all. I'm a life coach. I'm also a Master of Mystical and Occult Arts. I just don't happen to operate under MMOA regulation. I get to do what I want without Mage Guild sanction, as long as my activities as a Consulting Resurrectionist are legally indistinguishable from the mundane."
"Wait, you're serious? You're some kind of wizard?"
"I'm one kind of wizard. I'm a necromancer. I'm a specialist in restoring that which has died. I'm fascinated by things that die within still-living things. I play with living flesh and living minds."
"That's what 'Consulting Resurrectionist' means?"
"No, but 'vivisecting necromancer' isn't a very marketable job title. Who wants to hire one of those?"
"Yeah, who want one of those?"
"You wanted one of those. You already hired me, already paid me, and already met with me once before. Today, we'll check on the progress of something that had once died within you."
-----
What if curiosity didn't get the better of you. What if curiosity had died. What if everything grew grey and cool?
But also, what if anything lost can always be found again? That's like something in a fairy tale, right? Curious.
Y'know, they make rubber rooms for people who believe a life coach is a fairy godfather. Well, they'd quickly enough make one, custom, to fit anyone who'd broadcast such an odd belief. I don't think I'm quite curious enough to want to experience that for myself.
-----
"You're selling a Mage's services to the Mundane!"
"No. I'm not selling my services as a Mage to anyone, preternatural or mundane. I'm simply conducting novel research in my Field."
"You're accepting Mundane funds from Mundane clients. That's a Mage's service."
"No. The service is as Mundane as plumbing or retail work. I'm certified to practice under Mundane regulation. That's not a Mage's service."
"The Guild will have it's due. You're selling a Mage's service and you will operate under Guild oversight."
"No. My research is my own. I will not have my self-funding project under anyone else's guidance. You have no authority here."
"You're selling Magic to the Mundane!"
"I am experimenting on Mundane test subjects. I'm using my clients as self-selecting guinea pigs. Sure, my successful experiments are improved by 'a Mage's workings'. That's incidental, according to your by-laws. I'm not doing something that you can stop."
"The Guild will have the last word."
"Perhaps, but not today. As I say to my clients: Let me show you the way out." | According to my brother, my niece Phoebe was going through a phase. She was suddenly wearing nothing but full black, she dyed her blonde hair black, she's constantly kicking holes in the walls, screaming at her parents and even sneaking out at night. It didn't sound quite like the little girl who once gave me a hat for christmas bought from her own birthday money.
Not being much of a family man myself, I let them deal with their own problems. However, I decided to see things for myself when I recieved a particular phone call from my niece. She apparently required my specific skillset.
I drove to my older brother's home. It was a modern two-story home smack in the middle of the town where I grew up. I left as soon as I could, my older brother on the other hand, stayed after falling in love with a women who would soon be his wife. Unfortunately for the lovely couple, their marraige only lasted a short three years before his wife Maria lost her battle with cancer. Early in their marriage they had a kid, which my brother was now in full custody over. Four years later, my dear brother was married again.
I briskly stepped upto the door and opened it without knocking. "Who's there?" An alarmed voice demanded from the living room. I rounded the corner and stood in the doorway. My sister-in-law sat upright on the couch, a book sat opened in her lap. "Hello Daphne."
"Jesus Trevor, you couldn't have bothered to knock?" Daphne was younger than my brother by five years, yet she somehow managed to look older. She was only thirty-three, a year younger than myself. She had a hint of a grey streak in her otherwise dark brown hair. She wore a dirty timeworn apron and a floppy sunhat sat on the table in front of her. My guess was that she had just taken a break from being out in the garden.
"If your door isn't locked, I take it as an invitation to come in," I said. I took pride in the sneer that encompassed Daphne's face.
"What are you here for?" She hissed. "And for the love of god, that old-fashioned detective look isn't doing you any favors. A trenchcoat and fedora, could you be any more of a try-hard?"
"Give me fashion advice later," I said. "Your daughter's room is the third on the left, second floor, right?"
"Basement," Daphne corrected me. "We renovated it since the last time you were here, which was what? Five years ago?"
"Four," I smirked.
"Whatever," Daphne rolled her eyes. "Whaddaya need Phoebe for?"
"Nothing," I answered truthfully. Daphne raised an eyebrow. "She called me early this morning, I was in the area, so I figured that I would stop by."
Daphne looked like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Swearing under her breath, she went back to her book. I made my way to the door that I had never opened before, which I assumed led to the basement. I opened the door and was met with a cramped room of cleaning supplies.
"Broom closet," Daphne snarled. "Phoebe is the door to your right."
But my eye caught something, the back wall of the broom closet was fake. After years of hunting down illegal necromancers and fixing their messes, I was skilled at spotting hidden doors, secret levers and in this case, fake panels.
"What're you looking at?" Daphne asked. I didn't have to look at her to know that she was snarling at me.
"Nothing," I lied. I closed the door and opened the one on my right. I walked down a short set of steps, only to be met with another door. The rusty bronze handle didn't budge, the door was locked. There was a foot-sized hole in the door, through it I could see only the pink carpet laid on Phoebe's floor.
"Knock knock," I said. The door flew open, I was almost afraid that it would fly of its hinges.
"Frank!" Phoebe cried in relief. Despite being in her own bedroom, she was wearing a long purple jacket and a pair of combat boots. Her skin was alarmingly pale, and her eyes had bags under them, as if she hadn't slept.
"Uncle Frank," I corrected her sternly. "Have you been sleeping regularly?"
She looked confused. "No, I haven't been tired in a while."
"Have you been eating?"
"I haven't been hungry in days."
"Staying hydrated?"
"Maybe a glass of water every other day."
"Something's wrong with you," I said at last.
"Gee thanks, Mom says the same thing." Phoebe scoffed.
"That witch isn't your mother, Maria is." I said.
"I know that she isn't my blood relative, but who's Maria?" Phoebe asked.
"I'll tell you later," I said. "So why did you call me?"
Phoebe slumped down on the foot of her bed, I stayed rooted in the doorframe. Phoebe looked like she was about to speak, but then she closed her mouth and turned her head to the side curiously. "You're still wearing the hat that I gave you?"
"Answer the question."
Phoebe's shoulders drooped. "You're a Necromancer, aren't you? I've done my research, but you aren't a normal Necromancer. You heal dark illnesses rather than cure them."
"Get to the point," I said.
"I'm dead inside," Phoebe told me. I chuckled dryly. She hopped to her feet, "what's so funny jerk?"
"I have no time to deal with teenage angst," I said.
I expected Pheobe to yell, or scream, or even charge at me. Instead, her eyes began to cloud over. I gripped the doorframe with white knuckles as her pupils went black. She stood straight, and her hair flew around messily as if there was a harsh breeze in the room. The air was still, as if time itself had stopped. Phoebe spoke with a voice that was familiar, yet distant.
"Kagajatra, Otrymkliu, Dwinoprung-"
This was called dark recallation. When a magical event scars a person, specifically a child or young teen, they may lose control and suddenly start spewing all that they can remember about the incident, but that was only in extreme cases.
"Those are forbidden spells," I said. I reached into one of the many inside pockets of my trechcoat, hastily pulling out a syringe with a crystal orange liquid.
"Sorry girly, but you'll be back to normal in a day," I said. I charged forward and stuck the needle into her neck. She gasped, as if suddenly lacking air, and then went limp. I caught her and laid her down on her bed.
I ran up the steps, expecting to see Daphne on the couch reading. She wasn't there, I assumed that she was out in the garden. That was better, I could drive home and grab the neccessary items to treat Phoebe without Daphne ever noticing a thing. But before I rushed to the front door, I remembered something.
I threw open the door to the broom closet and started pulling everything out. Once there was room to stand, I entered the room closet and slid the back panel aside to reveal another set of stairs.
There was no light switch when I reached the bottom of the long winding staircase, only a heavy metal door. There was no keyhole, no electronic lock, nothing. It must've been a spell door, I needed an incantation to enter.
I recalled the dark incantation that Phoebe was reciting. "Kagajatra, Otrymkliu, Dwinoprung."
Nothing.
I tried something else. Spells were in an ancient language of warlocks, so if I tried translating an english name into the ancient language, maybe that would work.
I thought of my brother Daxton.
"Runyatin," Nothing.
I thought of Daphne.
"Pabfetrun," Nothing.
I thought of my suffering niece.
"Trunyahil," a runic word on the left side of the door suddenly revealed itself, glowing gold. That meant that the password consisted of two words, and the second one was Phoebe.
I had a bad feeling that I knew what the first word was.
"Xyryqopin," runic letters on the other side of the door revealed themselves. The word was experiment.
The door creaked open, my hands were shaking.
The password was "Experiment: Phoebe." | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | Another glorious day in Vivienne's Pizzeria. That is, my pizzeria. Happy customers, steadfast employees, and the air filled with the smell of the most delicious pizza in the city, possibly on the planet!
Today was shaping up to be a particularly good day as well, as a reporter was walking in to ask me about my success. Or did walk in. Or would walk in. Participles were tricky when you saw space and time from the outside, so I got a little tripped up sometimes.
Anyway, I invited the young collegiate student into my office. She was doing a report on small businesses for her bachelors in business administration. She didn't know I was aware of that, but I was.
"Hello Miss Tawny, would you like some pizza?" I asked, pulling a hot pizza directly out of the oven with before she replied. I had prepared it before she'd even arrived, because I knew we'd need it.
"Uh, su- oh, uh... thanks?" she said as I placed the piping hot pizza into a box and pressed it into her hands. She seemed especially perturbed by the fact that I was still holding the extremely hot cooking tray with my bare hands, but since I could just ignore the laws of thermodynamics at will, it didn't even warm my skin. "Wait, how did you know my name?"
"Honey, I'm the lovechild of a transdimensional entity and a psionic maelstrom that was birthed from a dying star. There's nothing I don't know," I said.
"What?" she asked, clearly baffled as I led her into my office.
"Don't worry, you'll get it soon enough. So, you want to know about my business!" I said.
"Uh... Yes? I mean, I'd be fine with just setting up a day for an actual interview, I'm sure you're very busy-" she said.
"Nonsense! I've got all the time we'll need," I said. And it was true, though that was significantly less time than Ms. Tawny thought it would be.
As she was preparing to respond, the phone rang, and I picked it up immediately. It was Captain Cosmic attempting to get me to join his hero league again, and both he and I knew what my answer would be, but since he was required to call to ask I felt it was only polite to listen.
"Hello, Vivienne Starchild. This is Captain Cosmic of the Stardust Strikers, and we have heard of your exploits. Join us in defending this city and this planet, and we shall provide whatever benefits we have to offer," he said, clearly reading off his memorized script.
"Special deals include a large for ten dollars and extra large for only twelve," I said, reading off my own script for calls.
"Dammit Vivienne, couldn't you just say 'no thanks, not today'?" he asked.
"Sorry bud, I've got a guest here. This is the fourth time this week you've called about this, and I don't know how to be clearer about my lack of interest, so next time I'm just going to jettison your phone line into space," I said.
"What?" Captain Cosmic said before I hung up.
"So anyway, it'd be nice if you could just ask your first question already so I can be polite and pretend I don't already know it," I said. Due to the immediacy from my breaking off the conversation with Cosmic, Ms. Tawny was somewhat thrown off.
"Oh, right, uh, how long have you been running your own business?" she asked.
"It's been four years, seven months, two weeks, three days, one hour, fifteen minutes, and eleven point two seconds since I first opened the doors. An impressively short time considering how much of a reputation I've gained in that time," I said.
"I'd say so... How-" she said. I cut her off before she properly asked the question because she talks too slowly.
"Obviously, my success comes predominantly from the uniquely excellent quality of my product. I mean, I source my tomatoes directly from Martian Colony KS-42 and my cheese is imported from Ixilitli, you can't get that kind of quality anywhere else," I said.
"Um..." she said, opening her mouth to ask for clarification.
"Oh, no, the Martian colony won't be founded for another thousand years, and Ixilitli was burned to the ground before woolie mammoths went extinct. You literally couldn't find food of this quality anywhere else," I said.
"O-Okay... and how does your business affect your personal life?" Tawny asked, managing to say it fast enough that I didn't feel the need to interrupt.
"Not at all! I mean, my boyfriend used to find it somewhat alarming how often I was busy and how it sometimes made it harder to 'see the cosmos in my eyes', but since he died after being hit by a bus it hasn't caused any problems," I said.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said.
"No need, I just saw him yesterday. Different timeline, sure, but long distance relationships aren't the end of the world," I said. "I mean, technically my business is far more successful in that timeline as well, so it's kind of fun popping over once in awhile to live the life of luxury for a bit."
"What?" she said.
The phone began ringing again, but stopped ringing as the caller's phone disconnected due to being jettisoned into space. I'd warned him fair and square.
"And no, I don't have trouble keeping the finances in check, even though I do pay my employees fair wages and give them solid benefits packages. Does that answer your questions?" I said.
"Uhh... hang on... Dammit!" Ms. Tawny said, scratching out a few final notes before realizing that she'd forgotten to turn on her voice recorder. I leaned over and turned it off, because I had retrieved it from her bag and turned it on myself earlier.
"No need to thank me, but I do have business to attend to, so if we're done here..." I said, gesturing toward the door.
"Actually, if you don't mind a more personal question, why are you here if your life is much better in a different timeline?" she asked.
"Oh, that's an easy one. My mother's birthday is coming up, and I have the perfect idea for a gift, but this timeline's the only place I'm aware of where I can get it," I said.
"I don't think I understand," she said.
"I'm sure someone will," I said, waving her out of the room. After she left, I helped myself to a slice of the pizza she'd so carelessly left behind. So glad I had the foresight to prepare it earlier, interviews really worked up an appetite.
---
*This one is sort of a spiritual prequel/sequel to another story response, so feel free to check it out if you feel like it: https://www.reddit.com/r/AslandusTheLaster/comments/c3xzg8/the_forbidden_archive_of_krax/*
*Or the rest of my writing for those interested: r/AslandusTheLaster/* | Just want peace and quiet
"Please, there are riots!"
Just want some calm
"And wars going on!"
​
Enjoy a nice book
"Crime wherever you look!"
Watch a new show
"and wherever you go!"
​
So should I be responsible
for the whole human race?
"You have the most power,
you can bend time and space!!"
​
Yes, and it's helpful -
for stocking my shelves!
"This is far more important,
you'd save the world yourself!"
​
So I'd play ref forever,
if it was up to you?
"No! Just once a month!
And on holidays too."
​
Oh -
Well, I guess time means nothing
So, sure, that'll do. | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | "You should be ashamed of yourself Simon."
"And you should be ashamed of yourself for not knowing what the word "no" means Alister." I replied as I refilled his coffee cup.
It had only been a few months after I had moved to Avalon City and opened up my storage business that the League of Heroes had started bothering me. I had wound up getting their attention after The Tornado had seen me open a small portal and reach into it to get some change I needed to pay for my order at a food truck. After I had finished paying for my food, The Tornado had approached me and promptly asked me to become a League member in order to replace Portal Woman who had just left the League. Like me, Portal Woman could bend space and dimensions. But where our abilities differentiated in was that she could do it in a split second whereas it took me a minute or two just to prepare to use my abilities.
A request I quickly, but politely, refused on the grounds I was to busy running my own business to be of any use to the League. While leaving out that I was fully aware from several posts, made across various forums on the Internet, that the reason Shadow Woman had left the League was because she had gotten tired of the other Heroes using her abilities for their own personal reasons. Things like making her create a portal just to drop the hero and their family off at their vacation home. Or make a portal to go to a ramen shop in Toykyo to place an order and then drop the order off in the hero's home. The posts had quickly been deleted after being claimed they had been created by trolls or hackers, but I believed that there was truth to them.
After that first meeting with The Tornado I had thought I would no longer have to deal with the League. But a week later The Tornado had showed up at my job and once again repeated his offer. And once again I had refused. A process that we now had been been repeating for 2 years.
"Come on Simon. Have you truly not thought of the good you'd be doing." Alister, or as he was better known to the public as The Tornado, said as he took a sip from the coffee cup. "In a few minutes you could make a portal that would take a hero directly to where the Forces Of Evil are so they can stop them."
"And while they're doing that I can pick up that their dry cleaning and port it back to their house for then." I replied as I walked over to a fishing boat that was sitting in the middle of my store and began inspecting it before placing it in storage.
"I can't believe you still think those posts where real Simon." Alister said with a sigh as he put down his cup and joined me by the boat. "Everyone knows they were made to make the League look bad."
"And not by Portal Woman airing her grievances?"
"Portal Woman left the League because she had to deal with personal things." Alister said with a huff. "Not because she had grown to hate working with members of the League."
"Then I guess when she's done handling those personal things you can go and ask her to rejoin the League Alister." I replied as I finished the inspection and began to open up a portal big enough to safely push the fishing boat through. "Because no, I'm not joining."
"You hurt me when you keep refusing Simon" Alister said he begin to help me maneuver the fishing boat through the portal. "And you can make it up to by going to get some deep dish pizza from Chicago for lunch today."
"And you hurt me by coming over here everyday to waste my time Alister." I countered as we got the boat into the storage space I had created for it. "And I'm getting ribs from a rib place in Nashville for lunch today. So take it or leave it."
"Fine." Alister said with a sigh as we left the portal and I closed it behind us. "Just get me a large tea while you're there."
"Like I'm going to leave you here to ruin my shop like last time Alister." I said as I opened up another portal for Nashville. "Hurry up go turn the Closed sign on so we can go and eat." | Just want peace and quiet
"Please, there are riots!"
Just want some calm
"And wars going on!"
​
Enjoy a nice book
"Crime wherever you look!"
Watch a new show
"and wherever you go!"
​
So should I be responsible
for the whole human race?
"You have the most power,
you can bend time and space!!"
​
Yes, and it's helpful -
for stocking my shelves!
"This is far more important,
you'd save the world yourself!"
​
So I'd play ref forever,
if it was up to you?
"No! Just once a month!
And on holidays too."
​
Oh -
Well, I guess time means nothing
So, sure, that'll do. | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | Its kinda funny when you think about it. All these people, with all these powers, and yet the world never changes. Some people are born "special" they say. "Supers" they like to call them. People with extraordinary "gifts". You have the Heroes, fighting to make things "right" for their own values of right. And then the Villains, fighting for whatever cause or reason they choose. And what Heroes and Villains there are! Why just last week a small "tiff" between the League of Heroes and the local Villain leveled 12 city blocks killing almost 100 people. The League blamed the Villain of course. Said "The loss of life was truly tragic" and claimed without the Villains actions, those people would still be alive. Funny thing is, all the villain tried to do was rob a bank. Pretty easy thing to do with super strength and the ability to store potential energy. Guy almost got away with it too, until Mr. High and Mighty stepped in. That’s not his real name, but I have a hard time remembering all the names. Tossed the poor bugger right through 3 buildings before getting punch 2 blocks over. It was actually kinda impressive. Farthest I have seen a sup go flying. Then things happened as they do, the people died, and the League claimed victory. Same story, different day.
And stuck in the middle of it is me. You see, I have “gifts” of my own. I have the ability to “bend” space, allowing me to control the way dimensions and their properties work, and even creating my own. Its pretty neat, and is wicked fun to play with, but ultimately, it is a power that can cause some massive issues. I once created a dimension of near infinite energy. I was on a free energy kick and wanted to “save the world”. I wasn’t careful with what I was doing and almost caused a multi-dimensional collapse. Turns out my abilities can only bend things so far from the natural order. Due to the experience, and several other near misses, I tended to keep to myself. While I could do incredible things, I came to realize that there is always the question of “Should” I do incredible things. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should and all that. “So, what do you do?” you may ask? I run a shop. A special kind of shop mind you, but a shop none the less.
It turns out that even super heroes and villains need things. And sometimes the things they need are hard to find. Other times they just want to do some shopping without worrying about their safety, or identity or whatever other crap they tend to spout. Turns out that being “super” all the time isn’t. The majority of my clientele are people who just want to shop in peace. And I don’t blame them. I built my home in another dimension to get away from all this nonsense. And its pretty simple. I have a small set of rules, that keep things simple:
1. No fighting. None at all. Offenders will be ejected. If lucky, into their home dimension.
2. No Stealing. What’s mine is mine until you buy it and it becomes yours. There is no hiding, there is not running, and I will retrieve what’s mine.
3. If you want it, I have it. If I don’t have it, I can get it. Except that. I won’t get that. And if you think about that again I will eject you into a star…you perv.
4. All sales are final. Once it is yours, I no longer care about it. If you have questions about an item, ask.
5. Privacy is a privilege, not a right. You respect the privacy of those around you, and I don’t blast your purchases and browser history to the world and your mother.
6. Don’t be a dick or otherwise unpleasant person. Good manners are appreciated. Bad manners will be taxed and dealt with accordingly.
7. All valid currencies are accepted and all exchange rates are posted. That being said, no haggling. The price is the price, and that doesn’t change.
8. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, at anytime, for any reason. Refer to rule 6 for consequences. | Just want peace and quiet
"Please, there are riots!"
Just want some calm
"And wars going on!"
​
Enjoy a nice book
"Crime wherever you look!"
Watch a new show
"and wherever you go!"
​
So should I be responsible
for the whole human race?
"You have the most power,
you can bend time and space!!"
​
Yes, and it's helpful -
for stocking my shelves!
"This is far more important,
you'd save the world yourself!"
​
So I'd play ref forever,
if it was up to you?
"No! Just once a month!
And on holidays too."
​
Oh -
Well, I guess time means nothing
So, sure, that'll do. | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | Another glorious day in Vivienne's Pizzeria. That is, my pizzeria. Happy customers, steadfast employees, and the air filled with the smell of the most delicious pizza in the city, possibly on the planet!
Today was shaping up to be a particularly good day as well, as a reporter was walking in to ask me about my success. Or did walk in. Or would walk in. Participles were tricky when you saw space and time from the outside, so I got a little tripped up sometimes.
Anyway, I invited the young collegiate student into my office. She was doing a report on small businesses for her bachelors in business administration. She didn't know I was aware of that, but I was.
"Hello Miss Tawny, would you like some pizza?" I asked, pulling a hot pizza directly out of the oven with before she replied. I had prepared it before she'd even arrived, because I knew we'd need it.
"Uh, su- oh, uh... thanks?" she said as I placed the piping hot pizza into a box and pressed it into her hands. She seemed especially perturbed by the fact that I was still holding the extremely hot cooking tray with my bare hands, but since I could just ignore the laws of thermodynamics at will, it didn't even warm my skin. "Wait, how did you know my name?"
"Honey, I'm the lovechild of a transdimensional entity and a psionic maelstrom that was birthed from a dying star. There's nothing I don't know," I said.
"What?" she asked, clearly baffled as I led her into my office.
"Don't worry, you'll get it soon enough. So, you want to know about my business!" I said.
"Uh... Yes? I mean, I'd be fine with just setting up a day for an actual interview, I'm sure you're very busy-" she said.
"Nonsense! I've got all the time we'll need," I said. And it was true, though that was significantly less time than Ms. Tawny thought it would be.
As she was preparing to respond, the phone rang, and I picked it up immediately. It was Captain Cosmic attempting to get me to join his hero league again, and both he and I knew what my answer would be, but since he was required to call to ask I felt it was only polite to listen.
"Hello, Vivienne Starchild. This is Captain Cosmic of the Stardust Strikers, and we have heard of your exploits. Join us in defending this city and this planet, and we shall provide whatever benefits we have to offer," he said, clearly reading off his memorized script.
"Special deals include a large for ten dollars and extra large for only twelve," I said, reading off my own script for calls.
"Dammit Vivienne, couldn't you just say 'no thanks, not today'?" he asked.
"Sorry bud, I've got a guest here. This is the fourth time this week you've called about this, and I don't know how to be clearer about my lack of interest, so next time I'm just going to jettison your phone line into space," I said.
"What?" Captain Cosmic said before I hung up.
"So anyway, it'd be nice if you could just ask your first question already so I can be polite and pretend I don't already know it," I said. Due to the immediacy from my breaking off the conversation with Cosmic, Ms. Tawny was somewhat thrown off.
"Oh, right, uh, how long have you been running your own business?" she asked.
"It's been four years, seven months, two weeks, three days, one hour, fifteen minutes, and eleven point two seconds since I first opened the doors. An impressively short time considering how much of a reputation I've gained in that time," I said.
"I'd say so... How-" she said. I cut her off before she properly asked the question because she talks too slowly.
"Obviously, my success comes predominantly from the uniquely excellent quality of my product. I mean, I source my tomatoes directly from Martian Colony KS-42 and my cheese is imported from Ixilitli, you can't get that kind of quality anywhere else," I said.
"Um..." she said, opening her mouth to ask for clarification.
"Oh, no, the Martian colony won't be founded for another thousand years, and Ixilitli was burned to the ground before woolie mammoths went extinct. You literally couldn't find food of this quality anywhere else," I said.
"O-Okay... and how does your business affect your personal life?" Tawny asked, managing to say it fast enough that I didn't feel the need to interrupt.
"Not at all! I mean, my boyfriend used to find it somewhat alarming how often I was busy and how it sometimes made it harder to 'see the cosmos in my eyes', but since he died after being hit by a bus it hasn't caused any problems," I said.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she said.
"No need, I just saw him yesterday. Different timeline, sure, but long distance relationships aren't the end of the world," I said. "I mean, technically my business is far more successful in that timeline as well, so it's kind of fun popping over once in awhile to live the life of luxury for a bit."
"What?" she said.
The phone began ringing again, but stopped ringing as the caller's phone disconnected due to being jettisoned into space. I'd warned him fair and square.
"And no, I don't have trouble keeping the finances in check, even though I do pay my employees fair wages and give them solid benefits packages. Does that answer your questions?" I said.
"Uhh... hang on... Dammit!" Ms. Tawny said, scratching out a few final notes before realizing that she'd forgotten to turn on her voice recorder. I leaned over and turned it off, because I had retrieved it from her bag and turned it on myself earlier.
"No need to thank me, but I do have business to attend to, so if we're done here..." I said, gesturing toward the door.
"Actually, if you don't mind a more personal question, why are you here if your life is much better in a different timeline?" she asked.
"Oh, that's an easy one. My mother's birthday is coming up, and I have the perfect idea for a gift, but this timeline's the only place I'm aware of where I can get it," I said.
"I don't think I understand," she said.
"I'm sure someone will," I said, waving her out of the room. After she left, I helped myself to a slice of the pizza she'd so carelessly left behind. So glad I had the foresight to prepare it earlier, interviews really worked up an appetite.
---
*This one is sort of a spiritual prequel/sequel to another story response, so feel free to check it out if you feel like it: https://www.reddit.com/r/AslandusTheLaster/comments/c3xzg8/the_forbidden_archive_of_krax/*
*Or the rest of my writing for those interested: r/AslandusTheLaster/* | Joan’s last stop of the day was her home dimension, Earth. She looked one last time around her ice cream shop, this particular one located on Nar, an alternate dimension of Earth. Soft, purple light trickled in through the cracks in the blinds. At first, Nar’s purple sunlight was a shock to Joan, but she’d soon gotten used to it. She smiled and waved at Quill, her only employee at the Nar location. His purple tinted skin slightly glowed as the rays of sunlight hit him as he held up a hand in response.
This establishment was one of three ice cream shops she owned. Each was stationed in a different dimension, and it had taken Joan quite a long time to create each one and get them up and running. But running these shops—it gave her happiness. Meeting these people, from different *dimensions* mind you, it was wonderful.
Joan quickly left the shop and slipped into the familiar alleyway that separated Joan’s shop and the neighboring building, Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her memories of Earth. Golden rays of sunlight, bright green grass, and her ice cream shop located there. A warm, gentle flow of energy enveloped her. Just as fast as the sensation came, it disappeared. She’d come to realize the feeling was her energy being harvested to transport her throughout dimensions. An overwhelming coldness spread through her head, the usual headache after the transport. She reached a hand into her back pocket, and slipped a green beanie over her head.
“Joan!” yelled a voice, oddly cheery.
Joan jumped, startled. “Who’s there?” She’d materialized in her dark ice cream shop, closed for the night. Her hand crept towards the lights on the wall.
Suddenly, a dark shape appeared next to her hand. It stretched out fingers, and flicked the switches. Light washed over the ice cream shop, illuminating the turquoise walls, white tile floors, and wooden tables with comfy blue chairs. The lights above the ice cream display case flickered on, illuminating empty tubs.
Joan stifled a yelp, stepping away and temporarily blinded. “Who’s there?”
“Joan, it’s just me.” A hand steadied her, supporting her back. Of course, she thought. She should have recognized the voice sooner.
“Porter,” she said glumly, stepping away from the hands.
The voice replied happily, “You got it!” Porter appeared in front of Joan, dressed in his stupid super hero outfit, which wasn’t much of an outfit at all. It was a classic black and white tuxedo, with combat boots and a metallic golden emblem stuck on the jacket. Joan already knew it read “League of Heroes”. She’d had enough of the League’s dumb shenanigans to try to get her to fight.
“Master Teleporter, at your service,” Porter said, smiling. He’d even changed his name once he’d joined the League, saying he needed a more “fitting” one.
“I’m not joining your League,” Joan said, rolling her eyes. She walked behind the counter and put on a navy blue apron. She brushed a strand of brown hair out of her face, checking her reflection quickly in a mirror. Her hazel eyes looked weary and tired, but it was a side effect of the dimension-bending.
“Listen, Joan.” Porter appeared directly next to Joan, causing her to flinch. “Join the League. We need you. You’re wasting your life making what, ice cream stores? Honestly, it’s quite sad.”
“I believe in peace, Porter. I’m just not a soldier.”
“Look,” he said. He grabbed her arm, as if making contact would make her say yes. Instantly, she tapped into her deepest energy stores. At least twenty different landscapes flickered around them in a storm of color. Dimension skipping wasn’t easy, but it was worth it as she saw Porter let go and drop to the ground, clearly dizzy and disoriented. She stepped away, and let Porter teleport to the other side of the counter, still recovering and blinking hard.
She smiled slightly, and stepped up to the register. “First customer of the day. What can I get you, sir?” | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | Its kinda funny when you think about it. All these people, with all these powers, and yet the world never changes. Some people are born "special" they say. "Supers" they like to call them. People with extraordinary "gifts". You have the Heroes, fighting to make things "right" for their own values of right. And then the Villains, fighting for whatever cause or reason they choose. And what Heroes and Villains there are! Why just last week a small "tiff" between the League of Heroes and the local Villain leveled 12 city blocks killing almost 100 people. The League blamed the Villain of course. Said "The loss of life was truly tragic" and claimed without the Villains actions, those people would still be alive. Funny thing is, all the villain tried to do was rob a bank. Pretty easy thing to do with super strength and the ability to store potential energy. Guy almost got away with it too, until Mr. High and Mighty stepped in. That’s not his real name, but I have a hard time remembering all the names. Tossed the poor bugger right through 3 buildings before getting punch 2 blocks over. It was actually kinda impressive. Farthest I have seen a sup go flying. Then things happened as they do, the people died, and the League claimed victory. Same story, different day.
And stuck in the middle of it is me. You see, I have “gifts” of my own. I have the ability to “bend” space, allowing me to control the way dimensions and their properties work, and even creating my own. Its pretty neat, and is wicked fun to play with, but ultimately, it is a power that can cause some massive issues. I once created a dimension of near infinite energy. I was on a free energy kick and wanted to “save the world”. I wasn’t careful with what I was doing and almost caused a multi-dimensional collapse. Turns out my abilities can only bend things so far from the natural order. Due to the experience, and several other near misses, I tended to keep to myself. While I could do incredible things, I came to realize that there is always the question of “Should” I do incredible things. Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should and all that. “So, what do you do?” you may ask? I run a shop. A special kind of shop mind you, but a shop none the less.
It turns out that even super heroes and villains need things. And sometimes the things they need are hard to find. Other times they just want to do some shopping without worrying about their safety, or identity or whatever other crap they tend to spout. Turns out that being “super” all the time isn’t. The majority of my clientele are people who just want to shop in peace. And I don’t blame them. I built my home in another dimension to get away from all this nonsense. And its pretty simple. I have a small set of rules, that keep things simple:
1. No fighting. None at all. Offenders will be ejected. If lucky, into their home dimension.
2. No Stealing. What’s mine is mine until you buy it and it becomes yours. There is no hiding, there is not running, and I will retrieve what’s mine.
3. If you want it, I have it. If I don’t have it, I can get it. Except that. I won’t get that. And if you think about that again I will eject you into a star…you perv.
4. All sales are final. Once it is yours, I no longer care about it. If you have questions about an item, ask.
5. Privacy is a privilege, not a right. You respect the privacy of those around you, and I don’t blast your purchases and browser history to the world and your mother.
6. Don’t be a dick or otherwise unpleasant person. Good manners are appreciated. Bad manners will be taxed and dealt with accordingly.
7. All valid currencies are accepted and all exchange rates are posted. That being said, no haggling. The price is the price, and that doesn’t change.
8. We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone, at anytime, for any reason. Refer to rule 6 for consequences. | "You should be ashamed of yourself Simon."
"And you should be ashamed of yourself for not knowing what the word "no" means Alister." I replied as I refilled his coffee cup.
It had only been a few months after I had moved to Avalon City and opened up my storage business that the League of Heroes had started bothering me. I had wound up getting their attention after The Tornado had seen me open a small portal and reach into it to get some change I needed to pay for my order at a food truck. After I had finished paying for my food, The Tornado had approached me and promptly asked me to become a League member in order to replace Portal Woman who had just left the League. Like me, Portal Woman could bend space and dimensions. But where our abilities differentiated in was that she could do it in a split second whereas it took me a minute or two just to prepare to use my abilities.
A request I quickly, but politely, refused on the grounds I was to busy running my own business to be of any use to the League. While leaving out that I was fully aware from several posts, made across various forums on the Internet, that the reason Shadow Woman had left the League was because she had gotten tired of the other Heroes using her abilities for their own personal reasons. Things like making her create a portal just to drop the hero and their family off at their vacation home. Or make a portal to go to a ramen shop in Toykyo to place an order and then drop the order off in the hero's home. The posts had quickly been deleted after being claimed they had been created by trolls or hackers, but I believed that there was truth to them.
After that first meeting with The Tornado I had thought I would no longer have to deal with the League. But a week later The Tornado had showed up at my job and once again repeated his offer. And once again I had refused. A process that we now had been been repeating for 2 years.
"Come on Simon. Have you truly not thought of the good you'd be doing." Alister, or as he was better known to the public as The Tornado, said as he took a sip from the coffee cup. "In a few minutes you could make a portal that would take a hero directly to where the Forces Of Evil are so they can stop them."
"And while they're doing that I can pick up that their dry cleaning and port it back to their house for then." I replied as I walked over to a fishing boat that was sitting in the middle of my store and began inspecting it before placing it in storage.
"I can't believe you still think those posts where real Simon." Alister said with a sigh as he put down his cup and joined me by the boat. "Everyone knows they were made to make the League look bad."
"And not by Portal Woman airing her grievances?"
"Portal Woman left the League because she had to deal with personal things." Alister said with a huff. "Not because she had grown to hate working with members of the League."
"Then I guess when she's done handling those personal things you can go and ask her to rejoin the League Alister." I replied as I finished the inspection and began to open up a portal big enough to safely push the fishing boat through. "Because no, I'm not joining."
"You hurt me when you keep refusing Simon" Alister said he begin to help me maneuver the fishing boat through the portal. "And you can make it up to by going to get some deep dish pizza from Chicago for lunch today."
"And you hurt me by coming over here everyday to waste my time Alister." I countered as we got the boat into the storage space I had created for it. "And I'm getting ribs from a rib place in Nashville for lunch today. So take it or leave it."
"Fine." Alister said with a sigh as we left the portal and I closed it behind us. "Just get me a large tea while you're there."
"Like I'm going to leave you here to ruin my shop like last time Alister." I said as I opened up another portal for Nashville. "Hurry up go turn the Closed sign on so we can go and eat." | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | Waypoint Transportation was founded on the idea of ease of access and tending to the common man. It started out small - you helped your mom keep her ring safe in your pocket dimmension while you crossed some risky streets. Then you helped your best friend move, finding out you can set down waypoints for teleporting things instantly.
Favors turned to rewards, and then to paid requests, and then full on comissions. It was hard work getting storage lockers set up and a team of people handle the client's cargo, but you feel good about your place in the world.
"Excuse me dear," you hear a voice, followed by the ringing of the door bell, "Are you in today? Hope I'm not coming in on your day off."
It's your older neighbor, Roberta. She was one of your first customers and is always in need of moving stuff around in her old age. She seems to be struggling with something heavy just beyond the door.
"Hold on there Roberta, let me help out with that!"
You meet her at the door and find that she's been dragging along a giant cloth-covered object by wagon. You can hear a faint ticking sound underneath.
"I was just checking out the attic when I saw this little beauty hiding away in a corner! Nearly forgot about it - it was my grandmother's. I know I put that big order in when we moved houses, but do you think you can squeeze in one more thing?"
You look it over. The size is very tall, but nothing you can't handle.
"Sure thing! Let me get inside the shop and get all the details down, ok?"
You tap the top of the clock, and pat down the sides, getting a sense of it's dimmensions and shape. You take a moment to visualize and feel the empty space around the clock, before swishing your hand into the air and closing your hand into a fist. Like a magician's trick, the clock warbles out of existence and into your pocket dimmension.
You walk over to the weighing scale further into the store and rewind your hand motions from before, raising a fist in the air and opening a lattice of space before swishing your hand downwards, hand open. The wrapped clock plops gently on the scale as it rests into place.
"Alrighty, and where do you want it sent to? Nearest storage should be in Melbrook, or I can send it directly to your.... basement, I think it was?"
"To the basement dear. I've already cleared out some space, so you should be all set to go! What do I owe you?"
You jot down the weight and rough dimmensions of the clock, A-to-B path, and client, and time of request.
"Perfect! With the distance there and the heft of the clock, it comes up to.... 45 bucks."
She quickly hands you a $50 dollar bill with a smile on her face.
"Keep the change hon. Thank you so, so much for helping me with this, I really appreciate it you know!"
You smile back and give her a hug. "Always a pleasure Roberta. You wanna stick around to see it go through?"
"Nah, that's ok. I know its in good hands. I've got to get going to a friend's place for a celebration - I'll check out the clock tomorrow and call you if I need anything. Take care now!"
You wave goodbye as you ready yourself for the transport. Just to make sure, you check the client log and your list of Waypoints. ROB-2A: Downstairs Basement at the end of the far wall. You focus in on that space, so very far away, and feel its location shining like a beacon in your mind. You make your way to the clock, creating a temporary waypoint as you can feel the space around it start to shift and vibrate.
You can almost feel it - the vast distance between these two points. Your fingertips tingle as you loosen the folds of space between the two spots, and as you loosen yourself from the idea that the two points are impossibly far away. Once you feel both waypoints are resonating enough, you clap your hands together firmly, feeling the two spots converging. At it's peak, you release your hands with dramatic flair, time and space inverting on your two waypoints as the clock instantly and harmlessly pops out of physical space, and to it's intended destination.
You bask in the afterglow for a little while. In truth, it doesn't need all that much preparation. Transports are better done the more relaxed and casual you are about it. Ever since an incident with a fragile figurine though, you strive to be more careful with your accuracy.
Speaking of...
"I know you're there Ziggs, come on out."
The light in the store shifts a little, as a tall man in full blue attire reveals himself. His navy blue formal suit fades into view, but most of his dress pants are still cloaked by a kind of light-bending invisibility. You look for an expression, but it lies hidden behind a pale white mask with toad-like features for the mouth and eyes.
"I told you not to call me that in public. It's Cameleon. And even then, just don't call me anything."
"Uh-huh. So what do you want? Spying on me for ways to steal my powers again?"
The man seems to receed into the wall a bit further by the comment, the invisibility rising to cloak himself further. He responds with a steady, neutral voice, "That was never our intention and you know it. Look, just..."
The man sheds his invisibility as his full form comes into view. He appears dressed for office work, but a small belt with pouches and a holster warn of more vicious intent. He removes his mask with one hand. His eyes are orange, with rectangular pupils. Other than this, he looks fully human, apart from very tired looking bags under his eyes.
"Just a few missions. Please? We'll even pay you so you can get right back to your shop when you're done. There isn't anyone else that can do what you do on our team and we NEED you. You'd be able to detect spies like me in an INSTANT. You could work with me and get to where we need to go without hurting anyone. You'd be a better help to people if you just join. C'mon man, don't make me beg?"
You consider it for a moment.
But not a moment longer.
"No. I've told you I don't want anything to do with you guys. I've seen where the rest of them end up. I've had to deal with the fallout of what you leave behind. I'm not doing it. Now unless you've got business, please leave."
The man takes a few nervous gulps of air as he shifts around nervously. He sighs, collecting himself as he fits his mask back into place, a wave of invisibility creeping up his form as he starts to step away towards the back door, his voice returning to a neutral tone.
"I understand your decision. Your response will be recorded and noted. Thank you, and have a good day."
You stand in silence for a moment, and wait until you can feel the back door opening and closing until you let out a sigh.
One of these days...
One of these days they won't be asking for you to join. They'll be forcing you to.
You go through your list of 11 safehouse Waypoints, feeling the destination and opening a small window-like portal in front of you. All locations secure. If anything ever happens, you can escape in an instant. If the Heroes ever get too power hungry, you can lead people to safety.
And if that doesn't work...
You flick you arm downwards, finding a small, but sharp, knife in your hands. You repeat the motion, running through your small arsenal in your pocket dimmension: Knife, handgun, grenade, medkit, bonesaw, syringe, rope, and...
... And a photo of you and Ziggs as kids.
You miss him, you really do. But he hasn't been the same for years now. Being a hero has warped him. Strong as he is, there could be a day when the order will come in to take you by force. If that happens, this photo might be your last chance to reach out to him.
But that will be then, and if.
For now, winter is still going strong, and people need deliveries done. You spend the rest of your day reviewing orders, travelling to different homes, and transporting things to and from different storage locations across different cities.
This is worth it.
Better to be a good store owner, than a murderer.
Edit: fixed some typos and capitalization issues. Thank you much for the silver, the comments, and the upvotes! I might get a draft going and reply if there's ever a part 2. | Harvey twiddled his thumbs; it was a habit he'd had since youth, and by now, the act was almost as natural to him as breathing. He did it when he was nervous, when he wanted to focus, and especially when he strongly desired something. It was this reason that he discovered the existence of his power. His mother had so often denied him the pleasure of observing the many souvenirs that she had taken from victories against past enemies, and it was the desire to see them, along with his habit of twiddling his thumbs, that caused the heavily-locked door to that mysterious room to disappear into that strange black hole that had opened out of nowhere.
Harvey spent years mastering this power, and after finally achieving just that, he announced, to reactions of great incredulity and indignation, that he would not be following in the family footsteps, that his heart lay in business rather than Superheroism.
He was disowned.
But this did not weigh heavily on Harvey's heart. In fact, he rarely thought about his family these days, excepting once or twice, when the thought of calling home and finding out whether everyone else was OK had flitted into his mind. On those rare occasions, he would simply carry on with work in his shop, as he was doing today.
Mere seconds after his thumbs had touched, a familiar purple ripple appeared in front of him. He reached a hand into it, and felt a warm, pleasing sensation, before withdrawing it. Clutched in his hand was an enormous mince pie that he procured for a very impatient customer.
"Here you are, Mrs. O'Leary," Harvey said heartily, as he approached the woman, who was rapping the counter with the thick leather straps of her handbag.
"Thank you," said Mrs. O'Leary coldly. She threw the money for the pie down on the counter and set off briskly, piercing the pie with her claw-like hands and stuffing it into her mouth. As the door swung shut behind her, Harvey listened to the tinkling of the little bell perched above the door, a pleasant smile stretching his lips.
"It's a good life," he said serenely, grabbing a cloth and heading over to wipe the pie smudges from the door handle. | |
[WP] In a world where some people are born with superpowers, most of them begin careers as superheroes. You were gifted with the ability to bend space and dimensions. However, despite pleas from the League of Heroes, you do not use them to fight evil. You use them to run your own shop. | The bell rang and I perked up from my counter. A new customer meant a new opportunity for a sale and I really was in need of one since-
It was Stromight, he did a cheery wave and I ripped the ‘customer service smile’ off my face as fast as I could. “Jerry!” He called out with his thick booming voice of justice, “how is my favorite shopkeep doing?”
“Please leave,” I responded to him and tried to look busy despite the fact that I hadn’t had a customer in quite literally days. I leaned down to find a bottle of cleaner that I’d left under the counter and started spraying it on the spotless countertop.
“Okay I am planning to be a paying customer,” Stromight insisted as he kept walking in despite my request. He strutted up to the counter as I was hunting for paper towel and gingerly placed a half full cup of coffee in front of me. “Would you mind using your wondrous rewind powers on this?” Stomight motioned to the coffee.
“You’re kidding right?” I asked.
“I’m not kidding, I just really want my morning-“
“Do you know what I charge for this sort of stuff? Don’t be insulting,” I hissed. It was their fault that I didn’t have any business. I could charge as much as I wanted and I had always had a line outside of the door.
“I will pay the full a thousand, I just would really like this coffee to not be so old.”
“Fine,” I spat and dipped a finger in his coffee. My power flowed into it, I could feel the sundial of time cracking and breaking under the pressure I put onto it. Half a second later there was a pile of coffee beans in his cup. “Thousand bucks please.”
“You knew what I mean-“ Stromight stopped himself, “look Jerry, I was just coming into-“
I picked up his paper cup and wound it back into a pile of woodchips, dye and a small piece of dinosaur bone for the plastic. “That’s on the house.”
Stromight dropped his trademark smile. “You’re a dick, you know that?”
“To you,” I clarified and shoved the pile of things I’d made in his general direction.
“To the world,” Stromlight argued, “you know there are a lot of people out there who could use a power like yours to help them and-“
“If you can do something well don’t do it for free?” I suggested.
“No, there are people like the league of heroes that could really use someone like you to make sure that nothing can happen to-“
“You guys,” I offered.
“No- well, yes.”
“But you guys are dicks,” I pointed out and started scooting the collection of coffee beans and woodchips towards the garbage can. “So-“
“Okay, okay look,” Stromight slammed his hands down on my counter a touch too hard and it cracked. I sighed and wound my counter back to the point where it wasn’t broken, “I know the attack ad was a little much but we really do need you out there. If you come with us for just a little bit we will,”
“Stop saying that my greed is the reason why you guys can’t do you job?” I asked.
“That’s not what we said,” he pointed out.
“It’s what I heard,” I shrugged and flicked the last coffee bean toward the garbage. “I have told you a thousand times that I don’t plan on dying to a ray gun, or shark, or shark-gun or anything. I like living and I like running a store. It’s what my grandmother did and-“
Stromighht ran his hands through his perfect black hair. “Here we go with the grandmother again.”
“The good guys,” I walked away from the counter and pushed past Stromight to the door, “are supposed to like the elderly.”
“You should be doing so much more than you are,” Stromight argued, “you could be saving people, and they could be opening their own shops and-“
“I don’t care about the amount of shops.”
“Its a metaphor dammit,” Stromight pounded his fist on the counter and cracked it again, great. “Why are you alway so intentionally difficult?”
“If you stopped asking, I wouldn’t have to be,” I motioned toward the door and Stromight followed orders this time and went to leave.
“You could be doing a lot more,” he sighed as he went out into the street.
“I know,” I shrugged, “just don’t want to.”
“Fine,” Stromight hung his head and started down the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow.”
“See ya tomorrow!” I waved him goodbye and shut the door. Once he was out of sight I let my smile come back. Hopefully he enjoyed our talks as much as I did. | Harvey twiddled his thumbs; it was a habit he'd had since youth, and by now, the act was almost as natural to him as breathing. He did it when he was nervous, when he wanted to focus, and especially when he strongly desired something. It was this reason that he discovered the existence of his power. His mother had so often denied him the pleasure of observing the many souvenirs that she had taken from victories against past enemies, and it was the desire to see them, along with his habit of twiddling his thumbs, that caused the heavily-locked door to that mysterious room to disappear into that strange black hole that had opened out of nowhere.
Harvey spent years mastering this power, and after finally achieving just that, he announced, to reactions of great incredulity and indignation, that he would not be following in the family footsteps, that his heart lay in business rather than Superheroism.
He was disowned.
But this did not weigh heavily on Harvey's heart. In fact, he rarely thought about his family these days, excepting once or twice, when the thought of calling home and finding out whether everyone else was OK had flitted into his mind. On those rare occasions, he would simply carry on with work in his shop, as he was doing today.
Mere seconds after his thumbs had touched, a familiar purple ripple appeared in front of him. He reached a hand into it, and felt a warm, pleasing sensation, before withdrawing it. Clutched in his hand was an enormous mince pie that he procured for a very impatient customer.
"Here you are, Mrs. O'Leary," Harvey said heartily, as he approached the woman, who was rapping the counter with the thick leather straps of her handbag.
"Thank you," said Mrs. O'Leary coldly. She threw the money for the pie down on the counter and set off briskly, piercing the pie with her claw-like hands and stuffing it into her mouth. As the door swung shut behind her, Harvey listened to the tinkling of the little bell perched above the door, a pleasant smile stretching his lips.
"It's a good life," he said serenely, grabbing a cloth and heading over to wipe the pie smudges from the door handle. | |
[WP] As a Lich you've spent your eternity in the shadows ensuring the small nation you own is a safe haven for the races that wish a peaceful life, however you get news that a local orc settlement was destroyed by a group of adventurers proclaiming that they will 'save the nation.' | 1/2
Taasar the Ancient was nearing her 500th birthday, and was considering a new look. Ellisar, her tailor, patiently explained, “The current wimple trend has been going a good decade now, so it’s time to make a decision: brocade, or lace? Maybe a nice ecru so you don’t clash…”
“Bah. How much do I get out nowadays, anyway?” the lich told her.
“You agreed with Mother that you would update your look once every human generation,” the elven tailor scolded. “I’ll be damned if I let you be seen in bug-eaten velvet and jewelry a century out of date, even if it’s only your own minions. Time to shelve that stuff and let it…appreciate for the resale market. I’ll summon Gradek to swing by with his current showcase.”
“This lace pattern *is* beautiful,” Taasar murmured. “I did ask you to hold me to this. Fine. Use this lace pattern and use it to inform details on my new gowns.”
“When should I have Gradek stop by?”
“Hmm…three days hence. I have a conference with King Adri and I want to give that my full focus.”
“Very well, then.” The tailor made a few notes with her stylus, then headed toward the teleport pad. Taasar sighed. “You have no reason to hide, Odarin. If I can hear you, the elf most certainly can.” Taasar’s mage-assistant came into the hall. “I have news from the mayor of Metgate,” Odarin began. “They’ve received a small band of refugees from Oklard.”
“Refugees?” the lich echoed. “Storibor Forest’s provinces are as quiet as it gets.”
“But it does form our border, Auntie. Unfortunately, we’ve had an…incursion. Only those too young to fight survived.”
“How many?”
“Fifteen, Auntie.” Taasar’s eyes narrowed to pinpoints of light. The mage shifted uncomfortably. The room’s temperature dropped.
“Who?” Taasar steepled her fingers.
“An adventuring party. From a good haul south of here, given how they described the armor and the accents.”
“Have you checked up on them, Odarin? How many are there?”
“Four of them leveled the village.” Odarin scratched his beard. “My sources mention a fifth, a druid, seen with them earlier but she was seen nowhere near the village.”
“Such brave people, taking on a bunch of swine-herders.” the lich’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Bring them to me, please. Tell them that the ruler of these lands wishes to give them fitting recompense for their exploits. But first, bring the refugees here.”
“Yes, Auntie.” Odarin made as if to go.
“Odarin? Did you drop off the meds at the Palace?”
“Yes, Auntie. This morning.”
“Good. Having King Adri pick them up himself is too…direct. You may go.”
The next day Odarin returned with a band of children. Their clothes were a bit dirty and torn, but they’d managed some rest. Taasar gave them a long look. The two smallest had rivulets of snot coming out of their noses- their race was prone to it.
“First things first. Have you been fed?” the lich asked. There was a *snffff* sound.
“M-mayor’s wife stuffed us full, m-m’lady,” the oldest boy said.
“We know refusing’s kinda impolite,” the oldest girl said, “But Ma also said not to waste food…”
“I am not offended,” Taasar said gently. There was another *snffff* sound. “What’s your name?” she asked the boy.
“Z-zugorim, m’lady,” the boy stammered.
“And you, girl?”
“Lazgar,” she whispered.
“How old are you?” to the younger children she said, “Forgive my rudeness- we’ll talk more later. Right now we’re just trying to find out what happened.” Taasar rummaged around a box built into her throne. She held out a brightly-colored rod, shook it at the smaller children, and conjured a few toys. “Anyone less than four feet high can run and play.” The lich rounded on the older children again.
“Fourteen summers?” Zugorim gulped.
“Twelve winters,” Lazgar said.
“Herding a baker’s dozen of children on a fortnight-long march. *Very* impressive,” Taasar said. There was another *snffff* sound, this time further off. The lich’s eyes flashed in irritation. “Odarin? Would you take care of that?” Odarin conjured a few handkerchiefs and floated them over to the offending children. There was a simultaneous *SNRRRRRRT* from the toy pile.
“P-please, m’lady,” Lazgar piped up. “Did anyone from our village…?”
“Survive?” Taasar supplied. “Let’s ask Odarin.” All eyes rounded on the mage. He shook his head, then started fidgeting with his staff. “Blast,” the lich sighed. “I was afraid of that…” Tears welled up in Lazgar’s eyes, but she fought them valiantly. Odarin conjured another handkerchief, handing it to her without eye contact.
“That settles it,” Taasar said with a shrug. “You must all stay here. For a couple of years at least. Until more of you are of age.”
“*Here?!”* Zogorim gulped. “A lich’s citadel? We’re just farmers! Not wizards!”
“You see guards. You see servants. Normal people like you. Though we can train you in magic, if any of you are inclined. Odarin there? He came here when he was just a baby.” The gangly wizard gave them a thin smile. “See if you can track down that druid,” Taasar told Odarin. “Maybe she can look after their village and the herds.”
“This place is grand,” Lazgar whispered. “Why would you let us stay here?”
Taasar leaned forward on her throne. “The swine you raise are a very old, special breed,” she said. “Do you know who originally created the breed?” The children shook their heads. “You’re looking at her,” Taasar said. “My farmers and herders are important to me. You are also subjects of my realm. I have a responsibility to you and to the families you lost. Proprieties must be observed. Do you understand me?”
Zugorim gave a hesitant nod. Taasar sighed. “Good. Speaking of proprieties, do all of you have weapons?” The children all showed daggers hidden about their persons. “Very well. Hold onto those, but if I catch you mis-using them I will have to turn you into something small and *tasty.* Odarin will bring you back here tomorrow.” Taasar’s voice went as cold as deep space. “*Whatever he tells you to do, or not do, you obey!”* The children scattered out of the throne room. | Word has just arrived to me that one of the settlements that falls under my protection has been destroyed by wretched, vile creatures known as humans. Part of me wishes to seek them out and destroy them before they have the chance to attack again, but a small, deeply hidden portion of myself understands them since, as an undead being, I too was human once. It’s not the humans fault that unlike all other beings in the continent, magical or not, they were made with destructive tendencies. Even the orcs, a race that thrives off of war and was given a name worthy of respect because of this, is not as destructive as humans. Creatures like orcs wage war in order to ensure their survival or out of cultural tradition to ally themselves with other orc clans. But humans, well humans wage war and kill simply for sport in hopes of proving their strength and having the names of their “heroes” sung in ballads throughout the ages. I understand humans because I was one of them, but this doesn’t change the fact that I owe the orcs, elves, fairies, pixies, banshees, lizard men, dryads, and even the giants protection. The races that reside in this nation of mine are known to all, which is exactly why it must have been targeted as a “threat to the nation”, and the fact that an orc settlement was defeated proves that these humans are strong and great in numbers. Regardless of why they decided to attack I must not let them bring any more harm to this land. If I fend off their attack, even it requires me to slay their entire army, their species will not be extinct since they have the reproductive tendencies of rabbits; but if I allow them to continue attacking, all creatures that reside in this nation will. They must have accounted for all the creatures that reside here and strategized manners to defeat them all, but there is one creature they did not account for, me. | |
[WP] As a Lich you've spent your eternity in the shadows ensuring the small nation you own is a safe haven for the races that wish a peaceful life, however you get news that a local orc settlement was destroyed by a group of adventurers proclaiming that they will 'save the nation.' | It was nothing but a tragedy to witness; fertile, healthy soil laden with crops burned into black ash, strong stone buildings crumbled into pebbles, bright and colourful architecture darkened with scorches and ash. A healthy population of 500 dwindled sadly to a meagre 0.
And it had all happened in a matter of a few minutes.
The Lich King clenched its bony hand with such furious strength that it came close to shattering it, its glowing green eyes glaring at the image of the destruction before it; though it resided miles away within its castle, it could still feel the pain and agony that soaked the land. Fury shook its body- an entire orc village destroyed! It knew those orcs, held onto their loyalty, provided for them- and now their existence was but a whisper of the past.
"Who did this?" The Lich King seethed; though its question was spoken quietly, its rage made it echo around the smooth obsidian walls of the room.
"We are not entirely sure yet, my lord." One of its subordinates- a rather ordinary looking man with an otherwise unordinary cluster of eyes hovering around him- answered, his tone regretful. "My scouts were unfortunately too far away when the incident had started, and they have found no trace of the-"
"Hm? What is it, Argus?" The man had suddenly fallen silent, a troubled expression crossing his face.
"My apologies, my lord." Argus said with a gasp. "It seems that the perpetrators are still there." Shocked, outraged gasps filled the room.
"The nerve! We must quickly annihilate these people, my lord!" Another subordinate- a hot-headed chimera- yelled, her fisted paw crashing onto the table. Murmurs of agreement came from the people around her.
"All in due time." The Lich King simply said. "Can you see who these intruders are? What are they doing?"
Argus grimaced. "My lord, I'm not sure-"
"Argus."
Argus bowed his head. "Very well." With a flick of his finger, the view of the destroyed orc village was replaced by 5 smaller projections showing the movements of 5 different people.
As it carefully watched these despicable enemies, the Lich King's anger grew in its intensity; murdering an entire village and scorching it to the ground was bad enough, but ransacking the few intact buildings and the strewn corpses was even worse. How dare they? Did these people not know how to respect the dead?! Perhaps it was because its own body had been defiled after death that the Lich King could not stand seeing this atrocious behaviour.
And it was all done with a happy, triumphant smile, as if it were worthy of praise.
"What are they?" The Lich King could only ask. "What kind of monsters are they?"
This time, it was not Argus who answered, but the lone human in the room. "Adventurers, sir."
"And they are?"
"Well, in some places the magical beasts need exterminating before they harm anyone, or some magical being goes mad or something; to handle that, adventurers go and take care of it in return for money or some other reward." The human explained, a confused frown upon her face as she stared at the adventurers on the screen. "It's not a system that's been implemented here though..."
"Are adventurers strong?" Argus asked, a hand cupping his chin.
"Some are. Some are not. They have different strengths and different weaknesses based on their race and their abilities. If I had to guess..." She stared more intently at the adventurers, at the destroyed orc village, at the orc corpses; at the equipment, the level of damage, the wounds. A thin smile cracked upon her face as she came to one single solution. "They have no chance against you, sir."
The Lich King nodded, the slight motion creating an eerie rattling noise.
"We can handle it, my lord!" The chimera insisted. "There is no need for you to waste your power on such lowly beings."
The Lich King shook its head. "I will destroy them." It was the only way that felt right.
For these beings to act so cowardly, to dishonourably fell the mighty orcs by ignoring their customs of close combat and use magic from a distance, to hurt these orcs that had not harmed a single one of them, to dare to desecrate the dead and steal what was not theirs- their death could not be dealt by a merciful hand. But more than that, the Lich King had been the ruler of those orcs, their mighty protector- so only it could give out the punishment those adventurers deserved to let the souls of its orcs rest.
The Lich King departed immediately; in the blink of an eye, it was gone, reappearing amidst a fog of black smoke in the middle of the orc village- right in front of the group of adventurers. The Lich King cast a wrathful eye over them, taking in their frightened, stiff postures; its gaze landed upon the body of an orc at their feet, mutilated and subjected to the humiliation of being used as target practice. The Lich King's skeletal fist tightened further.
"You lowly beings." It hissed. "You dare to trespass upon my territory and ruin the peace I have toiled to create?" The adventurers could only whimper, unable to even stare directly at the Lich King. "You are not noble nor mighty; you are nothing but cowards, a horrendous pest that cannot ever become more."
The adventurers somehow managed to muster up some courage, fixing determined eyes upon the Lich King. "We will liberate this nation from your disease!" They yelled as if they were some legendary heroes from myths; the Lich King could only laugh at their audacity, a deep, rattling noise that screeched harshly at the adventurers' ears.
"I am the Lich King." Its words boomed. "I created this nation. This is my domain. I command life and I command death- can lowly beings such as yourself hope to beat me? You are nothing but cowardly criminals- and here, I am the judge. For all that you have done..." The Lich King's eyes turned into black smoke that diffused around the adventurers, encircling them with an impassable wall of the Lich King's magic. "this is your punishment." The smoke enveloped them, forcing itself down their throats and noses to squash out any air they could breath; they could not even scream as the smoke ate away at their skin and riddled them with holes, unable to release the pure agony they were suddenly subjected to.
A few seconds passed, and the black smoke disappeared. Five skeletons fell to the ground. The Lich King did not bother to collect the bones for future use; it simply returned to its castle, where it received raucous applause and cheers from its subordinates.
It hoped that the souls of those brave orcs could rest peacefully. | Word has just arrived to me that one of the settlements that falls under my protection has been destroyed by wretched, vile creatures known as humans. Part of me wishes to seek them out and destroy them before they have the chance to attack again, but a small, deeply hidden portion of myself understands them since, as an undead being, I too was human once. It’s not the humans fault that unlike all other beings in the continent, magical or not, they were made with destructive tendencies. Even the orcs, a race that thrives off of war and was given a name worthy of respect because of this, is not as destructive as humans. Creatures like orcs wage war in order to ensure their survival or out of cultural tradition to ally themselves with other orc clans. But humans, well humans wage war and kill simply for sport in hopes of proving their strength and having the names of their “heroes” sung in ballads throughout the ages. I understand humans because I was one of them, but this doesn’t change the fact that I owe the orcs, elves, fairies, pixies, banshees, lizard men, dryads, and even the giants protection. The races that reside in this nation of mine are known to all, which is exactly why it must have been targeted as a “threat to the nation”, and the fact that an orc settlement was defeated proves that these humans are strong and great in numbers. Regardless of why they decided to attack I must not let them bring any more harm to this land. If I fend off their attack, even it requires me to slay their entire army, their species will not be extinct since they have the reproductive tendencies of rabbits; but if I allow them to continue attacking, all creatures that reside in this nation will. They must have accounted for all the creatures that reside here and strategized manners to defeat them all, but there is one creature they did not account for, me. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | Every year. This spot.
An empty beach, a blanket and a tea set. Imperial Green Tea; her favorite. Two men sipped quietly, not wishing to break the soft silence that neither found often in their lives. But it had to be done, things needed to be said.
"Facade..."
"Please, not my villain name. I know it might hurt, but use my old name."
"Jack." The name felt odd now, it didn't match his face anymore.
"Thank you Li." A beat of silence. "We need to talk."
"Do we?" Li took another sip and stole a glance at his companion. "You normally don't want to talk about what happens when the demon has you."
"I don't. I still don't. But I still see what happens. I still know." Jack turned to face Li, their eyes meeting solidly for the first time today. Li wanted to look away, he couldn't stand looking into Jack's eyes. Ocean blue, but with the evil lurking just beneath it. The same evil that had taken him after that night. "You've become more violent Li. You're not holding your punches back anymore. You've come close to killing people."
"After five years maybe I'm just tired of you and your compatriots running amok in the city. You've hurt people Jack. A lot of people. Maybe I should just put an end to all of you." Li knew it sounded rehearsed, something he had kept telling himself as he watched the authorities pick up broken men and women from the streets after their fights. Villains. "You deserve it."
"I do." Jack turned away; sipping his tea as he gazed back at the lowering sun. "I've done terrible things, to so many. You, of all people, have every right to judge me when the time comes. But what's been happening recently...that's not you. You always wanted to defend people. Help them. Even the scum of society were never irredeemable to you. That's why you were a lawyer then; a hero now."
"And I'm sick of it!" Li threw down his cup, splashing hot tea onto the sand as he stood. "It was just the two of us after she died Jack! We could've mourned and moved on! Left this damned city to the birds and just gone! But you couldn't. You had to find them, and you left me. Took on that damned demon and for what? Five years later and neither of us have brought her killers to justice. And I had to take responsibility for you. I had to become a hero to a city that I hated, because what else could I do? You trapped me here. You trapped me in a cycle that I could never move on from." Li shuddered with rage as he towered over the monster that had taken his future from him. "So maybe I kill you now. And I leave. I'll break out of this cursed cycle and never lay eyes on you or this fucking city ever again."
Jack said nothing, simply washing Li's cup out with water and pouring him another cup of tea. The sweet smell of the tea brought Li to his knees, small tears of anger and pain slipping from his eyes. "I was never as strong as you. You knew that there was little chance that we could have brought those murderers to justice. It would've been better to move on. It's what she would have wanted for us. To not waste our lives fighting for someone who's already dead...she was always practical like that. But I couldn't let go. I'm sorry Li. I still feel it now. My hatred for them...it burns in me. Every memory has turned into fuel to find those people and kill them. Everything I do; I do for that single purpose. I never meant to drag you into this. I wanted you to leave. You were never supposed to follow me down this path. But of course you did." Jack's hand gingerly moved onto Li's. "You meant to pull me out, but I sucked you in. I brought you into my cycle of hate...and I'm sorry."
Li didn't pull his hand back, but his voice was still sharp and raw. "What are your apologies even worth if you won't even try to break that cycle? You still believe that this vendetta was worth our future."
"Only because I've gone too deep. Too much has been done for me not to finish this. Every action I take spits on her memory but...there's nothing left for me otherwise. I regret it all." Jack's fingers slips between Li's, the hold tenuous but there. "But I finally have them."
"You...you what?" Li felt his chest tighten, their hands gripping each other solidly now.
"I know where they've been hiding all this time. The address is an envelope at your home. Tomorrow night, everything changes. I'll avenge her. And I'll give you your future back. The one I so carelessly stole from you so many years ago."
"And you?"
"Whatever you deem fit. Another burden I've forced on you, but hopefully my last. The city will let you do whatever you want with me at this point. And whatever fate you have in mind, I'll take it willingly."
Li could finally see the light, even as the sun faded away. His future was his again. He already knew the path ahead, he had known since the night Jack had taken in that demon. But he had lost sight of it; until now.
"We will bring those murderers to justice. And then we will free you from your demon. I've held onto you this long Jack. I'm not letting you go now."
A look of desperate hope flashed across Jack's face before he dissolved into a mess of tears. Tears that mixed with Li's as they embraced before sharing a soft kiss. As they pulled apart Li could see Jack's face clearly in the bright light of the full moon. A face covered in tears, a little snot, and a small embarrassed smile as he tried to wipe it all away.
A face that fit that lovely name. | You went in smashing through the front door.
Well, in wasn't a 'door' per se. It was just a piece of curtain, separating my 'lair', which is simply an old barn in an abandoned farm, from the outside world. I always preferred things to be simple and discreet. This barn only contains my suit and mask, hidden in an obscure trunk, and a portalet, because you never know when you have to go. I mean, Skidmark does, since his superpower is to hurl feces, but that's not the point.
After a long time, you finally tracked me down. It amused me that it took you a long time to find me. Although I am amused at the ferocity of your movements, I was surprised when I looked at your eyes. They look... Dull. Empty. I simply can't describe it with words.
In the split second that followed, I tried remembering how you were when you first started as a hero. Eager. Ambitious. And those lustrous eyes of yours, they sparkled whenever you are gearing up for a mission. I can't pinpoint when exactly that sparkle has started to die down.
But it was enough for me to tell. I knew you've had enough.
I stared at you right in the eyes, tilted my head to the right, raised my teacup with my right hand, and said "Good to finally have you here, Marjorie. I know you have business to do, but would you care for a little chat over tea and cookies with this old man?".
You stood there, transfixed. You stared back at me and said "You're not an old man! At the very most, you're only 45 years old!".
"Haha. Of the things I said, that's what you're reacting to?" I responded as I gestured for him with my teacup to sit at one of the the stools around my small coffee table.
You stood there, motionless. Visibly confused.
Exasperated, I gestured around the barn and said "Come on now, Andrew. What traps could I possibly have laying in this old barn? I already have enough of a trouble keeping it clean and dust-free. Traps would only get in the way of my cleaning. Sit. Have some tea. These are wonderful tea leaves I'm steeping. I stole this from a merchant downtown. It's from Asia. I don't know which country, though. They all sound and look the same to me. Haha." I added a racist joke since I know you have been known to be against immigrants in your younger, more simple-minded years.
You looked around with vigilance. Your senses were still heightened. I understood. I would have done the same if I was in your place. We wouldn't last without due caution.
I decided to let you take your time. "Feel free to look around. Don't take too long, though. After all, the tea is getting cold." I said as I sipped my tea and let out a sound of satisfaction.
You continued scouting my place, looking for traps or anything out of the ordinary, but you found nothing. Unsatisfied with the results, you sent a wind blast toward me. I tilted my head to the aide to avoid it, and it hit the wall behind me, obliterating it.
I glanced at the damaged you caused and let out a whistle of admiration.
"Impressive as always, Tempesta. But I'd watch out where I shoot if I were you. The barn might come down on us. As you can see, it's old.", I said as took a bite of a cookie. Ah, yes. Cookies from Aunt Susan's Bakeshoppe are still the best.
Seeing as you still are vigilant, I sighed and said "I mean no harm, Marjorie. Over the past three years,how many have I actually harmed?"
Your eyes burned with a ferocity that you've never had in you since you broke in. You yelled "What about Mr. Garcia, huh?! You caused him to be paralyzed waist down! What about Calvin's Money Lending?! You burned it down to the ground! And the McCullough brothers! You killed them!".
"Mr. Garcia was an accident. I didn't know he was there when I blew up the wall of that bank. As for that money lending, did you not know that it was a front for money laundering? They funneled through thousands of dollars in that money lending. And those brothers were thieves, murderers, and rapists. We're better off without them." I responded. I took a sip of my tea and added, "Gabriel and his family receives a decent amount of support from an unknown source. I also bought the house next to his and befriended him and his family. We have barbeque in my yard some weekends. Calvin's Money Lending became a key link to arresting corrupt politicians. The brothers, well, they're dead so there's no point in talking about them."
You stood there, even more confused than when I asked you to join me in tea. I sighed again, deeper this time, and gestured at the table with my chin.
A pale black hand materialized, upturned a teacup, picked up the teapot and poured tea into the teacup.
You blanked out, and your eyes slowly went wide in a sudden realization.
"You're the Hundred Shadow Hands!", you exclaimed.
I felt my face twitch at the name. "Uh... I prefer the name Shadow. That name sucks."
You still could not get over your shock. "You disappeared after the fight with Skidmark! He turned a whole mountain into feces and the resulting avalanche buried you! Pulsar and Quanta hunted him down not long after!", you continued yelling.
"Alright, alright. Calm down, lass. Sit down. Have some tea."
You reluctantly stepped towards the table and gingerly sat on a stool. You sat on the edge, ready to spring up in the first signs of danger. I simply shook my head at your actions. I pushed the plate of cookies towards you and placed the teacup in front of you using the shadow hand. The hand then disappeared.
"Inhale the aroma of the tea first, before taking a sip. Just like you're sampling wine." I took a generous sniff of the tea and sipped. You awkwardly followed my actions. all the while your eyes keep darting around the barn before placing you sights on me. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | “What are you doing here” I said robbed of all life. “Just checking up on you. How can you fight me when you’re clearly fighting demons of your own” he replied.
“Why do you care? You don’t make my life any easier. You make work three times as hard and threaten my life everyday. Why should I even listen to you and not immediately kick your ass?” I inched towards him slowly but I hadn’t slept in two nights I was clearly weak. If it did turn into a fight, I would lose. There’s also the problem of how he found my lair.
“Because I do care but you just don’t see it. I never go out for your death whenever we fight. I want to be left alone. I was robbed in this life from the simple pleasures people take for granted. I need the satisfaction of robbing to make my life worth living again. You just don’t see it like that. I only take from the rich to punish them for the selfish ways. I only attack their guards because they know who they are working for yet continue to be hired bullies. I’m seeking redemption” he motioned for me to sit down with him as he poured some tea. “It’s chamomile tea, very relaxing and good for you.”
“Shut the fuck up”
I sat down in front of him and let out a sigh.
“Why are you even here? How did you find my place!?” slowly sipping tea.
“I’m here to make a truce. I found your lair by tracking your suit. The last time in April you sabotaged my jewel heist, I bribed a waiter to stick a tracking sticker on your coat at your celebration dinner. You know the one the mayor uses to make sure he gets re-elected by supporting you?”
I took another sip from the tea and looked at my nemesis with eyes of sorrow. I fight everyday to be loved by the public but it drains me every time I run around the world to empty applause. My life is devoid of meaning. I have nothing to keep me going. This job takes and takes but it never gives back. I listened with interest as he made his offer.
“I’m sure your still mad about that time I used civilians to make my escape. Not exactly a classy move but you know I have to survive somehow. Here’s my idea. Let’s say to the public that you killed me and here’s how.”
“What.” My jaw was agape. He poured more tea as I had finished my cup.
“In two weeks time there is gonna be a big opening at the Alexander Museum of Modern Art. They are hanging a painting worth $3.2 million, a clear target of mine. People will be expecting me there. I have a reputation to keep. Well anyway, let’s say you get there and foil my plans. We have a flashy fight and it looks like we both perished. “
“No way. I will not fake my death for my own well-being, these people need me to stop idiots like you from running amok”
“You don’t owe these people anything. Stop ruining your life for people who don’t give a fuck about you. Yeah they buy your shirts and like your pictures,but do they really care about you? You do nothing but break your back for these people but they never give you anything back. It’s time you look out for yourself. “
I was horrified at this idea but more by the fact I had thought of it before. Fake my death and live a peaceful life somewhere in the mountains. In my solace I would be happy. But hearing the idea come from my nemesis, made me sick. How am I any different from this man?
“But most importantly you need a friend” he said with a smile. I was perplexed. I had seen his face make murderous grins but never had he smiled with such clear intent. He was a master manipulator but now I felt like trusting him. He hadn’t poisoned the tea or killed me when I was vulnerable. Maybe I should listen to him.
If this gets upvotes I’ll continue. Hope you like it. | You went in smashing through the front door.
Well, in wasn't a 'door' per se. It was just a piece of curtain, separating my 'lair', which is simply an old barn in an abandoned farm, from the outside world. I always preferred things to be simple and discreet. This barn only contains my suit and mask, hidden in an obscure trunk, and a portalet, because you never know when you have to go. I mean, Skidmark does, since his superpower is to hurl feces, but that's not the point.
After a long time, you finally tracked me down. It amused me that it took you a long time to find me. Although I am amused at the ferocity of your movements, I was surprised when I looked at your eyes. They look... Dull. Empty. I simply can't describe it with words.
In the split second that followed, I tried remembering how you were when you first started as a hero. Eager. Ambitious. And those lustrous eyes of yours, they sparkled whenever you are gearing up for a mission. I can't pinpoint when exactly that sparkle has started to die down.
But it was enough for me to tell. I knew you've had enough.
I stared at you right in the eyes, tilted my head to the right, raised my teacup with my right hand, and said "Good to finally have you here, Marjorie. I know you have business to do, but would you care for a little chat over tea and cookies with this old man?".
You stood there, transfixed. You stared back at me and said "You're not an old man! At the very most, you're only 45 years old!".
"Haha. Of the things I said, that's what you're reacting to?" I responded as I gestured for him with my teacup to sit at one of the the stools around my small coffee table.
You stood there, motionless. Visibly confused.
Exasperated, I gestured around the barn and said "Come on now, Andrew. What traps could I possibly have laying in this old barn? I already have enough of a trouble keeping it clean and dust-free. Traps would only get in the way of my cleaning. Sit. Have some tea. These are wonderful tea leaves I'm steeping. I stole this from a merchant downtown. It's from Asia. I don't know which country, though. They all sound and look the same to me. Haha." I added a racist joke since I know you have been known to be against immigrants in your younger, more simple-minded years.
You looked around with vigilance. Your senses were still heightened. I understood. I would have done the same if I was in your place. We wouldn't last without due caution.
I decided to let you take your time. "Feel free to look around. Don't take too long, though. After all, the tea is getting cold." I said as I sipped my tea and let out a sound of satisfaction.
You continued scouting my place, looking for traps or anything out of the ordinary, but you found nothing. Unsatisfied with the results, you sent a wind blast toward me. I tilted my head to the aide to avoid it, and it hit the wall behind me, obliterating it.
I glanced at the damaged you caused and let out a whistle of admiration.
"Impressive as always, Tempesta. But I'd watch out where I shoot if I were you. The barn might come down on us. As you can see, it's old.", I said as took a bite of a cookie. Ah, yes. Cookies from Aunt Susan's Bakeshoppe are still the best.
Seeing as you still are vigilant, I sighed and said "I mean no harm, Marjorie. Over the past three years,how many have I actually harmed?"
Your eyes burned with a ferocity that you've never had in you since you broke in. You yelled "What about Mr. Garcia, huh?! You caused him to be paralyzed waist down! What about Calvin's Money Lending?! You burned it down to the ground! And the McCullough brothers! You killed them!".
"Mr. Garcia was an accident. I didn't know he was there when I blew up the wall of that bank. As for that money lending, did you not know that it was a front for money laundering? They funneled through thousands of dollars in that money lending. And those brothers were thieves, murderers, and rapists. We're better off without them." I responded. I took a sip of my tea and added, "Gabriel and his family receives a decent amount of support from an unknown source. I also bought the house next to his and befriended him and his family. We have barbeque in my yard some weekends. Calvin's Money Lending became a key link to arresting corrupt politicians. The brothers, well, they're dead so there's no point in talking about them."
You stood there, even more confused than when I asked you to join me in tea. I sighed again, deeper this time, and gestured at the table with my chin.
A pale black hand materialized, upturned a teacup, picked up the teapot and poured tea into the teacup.
You blanked out, and your eyes slowly went wide in a sudden realization.
"You're the Hundred Shadow Hands!", you exclaimed.
I felt my face twitch at the name. "Uh... I prefer the name Shadow. That name sucks."
You still could not get over your shock. "You disappeared after the fight with Skidmark! He turned a whole mountain into feces and the resulting avalanche buried you! Pulsar and Quanta hunted him down not long after!", you continued yelling.
"Alright, alright. Calm down, lass. Sit down. Have some tea."
You reluctantly stepped towards the table and gingerly sat on a stool. You sat on the edge, ready to spring up in the first signs of danger. I simply shook my head at your actions. I pushed the plate of cookies towards you and placed the teacup in front of you using the shadow hand. The hand then disappeared.
"Inhale the aroma of the tea first, before taking a sip. Just like you're sampling wine." I took a generous sniff of the tea and sipped. You awkwardly followed my actions. all the while your eyes keep darting around the barn before placing you sights on me. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I stumbled deeper through the cave to the Dark Hydra’s lair, trying not to collapse. The hunt no longer gave me the rush of adrenaline that I had once been addicted to, but it was all that I had left. There was no life waiting for me outside of this world of crime I had trapped myself in.
I could feel the warmth of the light behind me getting weaker and I travelled further, out of breath and sweating despite the cold. How anyone could stay down here for days on end, I didn’t understand. Eventually, I reached a doorway leading into a room lit by a flickering fire. I took a deep breath, steadied myself and stepped inside.
“Where’s the money?” I tried my best to sound infuriated, to mask how utterly exhausted I really felt. I heard a soft chuckle from a chair by the fireplace.
“Oh please. As if I would ever *actually* rob a bank,” she spun around in her seat and gestured to the sofa and mug of tea next to her. “Take a seat, Captain Dragon.”
I groaned quietly. Captain Dragon was such a stupid name, but it was what the public had dubbed me and I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Cautiously, I sat, aware of how close I was to her, how easily she could just reach out and spit acid in my face. I shuffled uncomfortably.
“What is this? What to you want?” I glared at her, trying to keep the anger in my voice. She raised an eyebrow at me and pushed my mug into my hands.
“I want to talk, Lili,”
“How do you know my name?”
“It wasn’t exactly hard. You were in the news a couple years back for that fishing competition, and I’ve seen your face too many times not to recognise you.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Do take off that mask, by the way. It’s pointless and you look ridiculous wearing it.”
I removed the mask, suddenly insecure. She knew about my major screw-up at the fishing competition! Since she was the only person who knew me anymore, I was utterly embarrassed.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m worried about you. This past year, it’s just felt like your heart isn’t in this whole superhero thing anymore, and the bags under your eyes might just peel your skin off sooner or later,”
I looked away, blushing furiously. Of course I cared what she thought. I had to care. I took another sip of my tea and wondered how it was that she managed to get under my skin so easily, trying not to shake and give away how nervous I was.
“Lili, are you ok?” There was something strange in her voice, something I hadn’t heard in a while - genuine concern. I nodded and gulped, turning back towards her. “Look, Lili, you need a break. Go on holiday, see a therapist, make friends! How long has it been since you broke up with Lindsay?”
“Three months,” I whispered.
“Lili, you have to let yourself recover. This level of pressure is not healthy, especially for a prolonged period of time. Please. And then when you come back, maybe things can be normal again?”
I nodded and grinned.
“That would be great,” I answered enthusiastically. I quickly realised, however, that I was letting myself show vulnerability to the villain and hardened my glare, “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, though. I still hate you.”
She smiled slyly, stood up and walked towards me. Suddenly very uneasy, I gripped the arms of the sofa and tensed up. She leaned forward so her breath tickled my ear and whispered,
“There is a very fine line between love and hate.” | “It’s fine now. Why? Because I am here.”
Watching those superhero shows, one couldn’t help but feel inspired to become one themselves. Heroes were always so selfless, saving people every single time while looking all heroic and amazing. What one didn’t know though was how hard being a hero was. It wasn’t just your family or friends who had expectations on you, it was the whole world. Anytime someone shouted “Help!”, you were expected to come and save them, from whatever super villain that was tormenting them. There was no time to do anything else, hanging out with someone meant you were letting someone else die or hurt. While ordinary people would be able to rest every once in a while, after a whole week of working, you weren’t. And it wasn’t just physical exhaustion that you had to deal with as a hero. Mentally, watching people get hurt again and again, dealing with a villain like MindBreaker’s taunts and schemes were tiring. The curse of being a hero… was that while you saved others, no one was there to save you.
- Emergency Alert – *MindBreaker has just kidnapped a number of politicians*
“Another emergency huh,” sighed Justice. That was the 5th time there had been an emergency this week. Just once, Justice had hoped for some peace, to rest. Despite all that, he decided to prepare himself and rush towards MindBreaker’s lair. He had dreamt of being a hero back when he was a kid, but nowadays he wondered, was it really worth it?
“AHHH!!!” Hearing the screams from inside the lair, Justice rushed in, only to see MindBreaker sitting on a couch in front of a TV. “What brings you here, Justice?” asked the villain, before taking a sip of tea. “Where are the politicians?” questioned Justice back. Looking around, he could see nothing like a torture equipment and as he got closer, he saw that the villain had actually been watching some disturbing TV show. “Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?” Feeling embarrassed at his rude entrance, and partly wanting to rest for a bit, he decided to join MindBreaker for a bit, even though they were supposed to be enemies. “Sure,” replied Justice sheepishly. The tea looked freshly brewed, and smelled amazing. “Thanks.” Weird… But it wasn’t that bad. Perhaps villains have some weird tea for themselves, Justice thought.
“So how’ve you been lately? Your vibe, how do I say it, you’ve felt kinda off lately whenever we squared up.”
“I, what?” Surprised, Justice looked at MindBreaker confusedly. What was he planning?
“Nothing to be surprised about. I took psychology and worked as a therapist for a while you know. I can sense it when someone’s feeling down.”
“I, well. Its just, I’m surprised. We’re enemies.”
“Well yes, but once in a while I feel like going back to my old self, and you deserve a break too, right?”
“I guess. That makes sense. I don’t know. I guess it’s like you said, I’ve been feeling down lately. Always having to save people, haven’t had much time for myself you know? Everyone just expects you to always save the day while smiling. Kinda gets to you y’know?”
“I definitely understand that. When someone has to carry such heavy expectations always, its normal to feel stressed out and mentally exhausted. Have you thought of doing things to de-stress yourself? Just exercising a bit, play a few games. Hell, breaking things can be a good way to release your stress too.”
“I mean, running around is kinda like exercise isn’t it? And I don’t have time to play games, nor is it really fun for me nowadays. Breaking things… hold on what?”
“Yes, it might seem terrible to you but hurting others and breaking things. They’re extremely useful in releasing stress. Like those politicians I kidnapped.”
“You, what?? I thought you were doing this out of kindness but it seems like you’re still a rotten villain!”
“Relax, we’re here for a therapy session, aren’t we? Think of it hypothetically. These deplorable politicians have been causing trouble for the lower-class civilians, bribing people and spreading injustice behind the scenes. Shouldn’t they be punished in some way?”
“I mean, I guess, but we aren’t the right ones for that. Just because they –“
Holding up his hand, MindBreaker interrupted him “If not us, then who? You should see the sense in it. They’ve been carrying out their dirty deeds for far too long without being punished. And you need a way to destress yourself. Why not kill 2 birds with one stone by doing this?” Trying to convince a stable Justice would’ve been impossible, but with the specially brewed tea, it was a lot more possible.
“I… I see what you’re getting at, but still. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it to the police?”
“The politicians will just end up bribing them, trust me. It’s up to you, Justice, to punish them. Show them how wrong they are. Once you’ve released your stress on them, you can go back to being a hero. What do you say?”
“That’s… fair, I guess. Yes, I completely get it now. Sure! Where are they?” asked Justice, finally convinced. “Right away, follow me.” Grinning to himself, MindBreaker led Justice towards the politicians. Years of trying to break the hero, and now he’d finally managed to convince him to do evil. Soon, Justice would totally be corrupted and be a supervillain himself! | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I had finally finished crawling through ventilation shafts. It was twenty floors underground and somehow I still couldn't find an easier way in. I undo the cover and drop down into the hallway. *I don't have time for this,* was my only thought as I started searching for Dr. Malice to stop him from launching the missile. I opened a door I remembered leading to his office.
He was sat there, in his black lab coat, at a table. There was a steaming kettle on the table and two cups of what looked like tea. "How many times have you been in here, Mike? I'd rather drop formalities here, if you would, but I can call you Burning Man if you wish."
I blinked, staring at him. *What the...*
"You've been dragging your feet lately. Over the last five plans I've attempted, you foiled three of them." He slid a folder over to the other side of the table as I approached it. "Lucky for you, the ones that succeeded were of the altruistic variety. I did enough damage to the student loan and healthcare systems that they'll never be able to figure out who owes what and have to start over."
I opened the folder, it had my student financial report and the bills for my mom in the hospital. I sat down. "How long have you known who I am?"
"Mike, I figured it out day one. You haven't exactly been subtle. Henchmen know too, though there's a rule not to mess with you in your personal life." He sipped from his tea cup as I read through the files, a little horrified at how much information he had on me.
I sniffed the tea, "Green tea with raspberry?"
Dr. Malice nodded, "And a little honey. It should be drinkable, I made it when you were crawling through the vents on floor fifteen. Seriously, you could have used an elevator on the third."
I sipped at it, "Last time you had your henchmen waiting for me with guns."
"Last time you broke in, I was with a patient. I am actually a medical professional, though I'm surprised you didn't know." Dr. Malic pointed over to his office wall where there were several PhDs and certificates. A lot of of them for fields of medicine.
I blinked standing up with my tea to read them, "So... why are we talking instead of fighting?" I turned to him, suddenly self conscious, "Not that I'm relieved, but usually by now we're trading blows."
"I wanted to let you know I'll be taking care of your mother's medical treatment. With my staff, she'll be up and about again within the year. No strings, and you can even pick back up thwarting my 'nefarious' plans." He rolled his eyes, as I stood there, stunned.
"You're just going to use her as leve-"
"I would never. I take my oath to do no harm very seriously when it comes to patients. Mental and physical health are important, and you have been far more stressed than you let on. As a medical professional, my recommendation would be to quit one of your jobs, and take break."
I sat back down in stunned silence. I sipped my tea, and waited for the catch. Dr. Malice didn't say anything, just sipping his tea and watching me. "I... might consider that. I've still got bills to pay."
"Taken care of."
​
"What? No, I can't let you-"
"No, I don't expect repayment. You have made cleaning up the world more interesting, and I would rather you do so in good spirits. Play some video games, I know a few interesting ones have come out on the market, my kids won't stop raving about Halo and Ice something or other." He waved his hand dismissively.
"You have kids?" I stared at him, having never seen any sign of them before now.
We spent the rest of the day talking, starting with his family and eventually shifting to mine. I slowly felt a lot of the stress leave my body as we did, and couldn't help but wonder if he was really a bad guy, or he just seemed made a big show of it. | “It’s fine now. Why? Because I am here.”
Watching those superhero shows, one couldn’t help but feel inspired to become one themselves. Heroes were always so selfless, saving people every single time while looking all heroic and amazing. What one didn’t know though was how hard being a hero was. It wasn’t just your family or friends who had expectations on you, it was the whole world. Anytime someone shouted “Help!”, you were expected to come and save them, from whatever super villain that was tormenting them. There was no time to do anything else, hanging out with someone meant you were letting someone else die or hurt. While ordinary people would be able to rest every once in a while, after a whole week of working, you weren’t. And it wasn’t just physical exhaustion that you had to deal with as a hero. Mentally, watching people get hurt again and again, dealing with a villain like MindBreaker’s taunts and schemes were tiring. The curse of being a hero… was that while you saved others, no one was there to save you.
- Emergency Alert – *MindBreaker has just kidnapped a number of politicians*
“Another emergency huh,” sighed Justice. That was the 5th time there had been an emergency this week. Just once, Justice had hoped for some peace, to rest. Despite all that, he decided to prepare himself and rush towards MindBreaker’s lair. He had dreamt of being a hero back when he was a kid, but nowadays he wondered, was it really worth it?
“AHHH!!!” Hearing the screams from inside the lair, Justice rushed in, only to see MindBreaker sitting on a couch in front of a TV. “What brings you here, Justice?” asked the villain, before taking a sip of tea. “Where are the politicians?” questioned Justice back. Looking around, he could see nothing like a torture equipment and as he got closer, he saw that the villain had actually been watching some disturbing TV show. “Would you like to join me for a cup of tea?” Feeling embarrassed at his rude entrance, and partly wanting to rest for a bit, he decided to join MindBreaker for a bit, even though they were supposed to be enemies. “Sure,” replied Justice sheepishly. The tea looked freshly brewed, and smelled amazing. “Thanks.” Weird… But it wasn’t that bad. Perhaps villains have some weird tea for themselves, Justice thought.
“So how’ve you been lately? Your vibe, how do I say it, you’ve felt kinda off lately whenever we squared up.”
“I, what?” Surprised, Justice looked at MindBreaker confusedly. What was he planning?
“Nothing to be surprised about. I took psychology and worked as a therapist for a while you know. I can sense it when someone’s feeling down.”
“I, well. Its just, I’m surprised. We’re enemies.”
“Well yes, but once in a while I feel like going back to my old self, and you deserve a break too, right?”
“I guess. That makes sense. I don’t know. I guess it’s like you said, I’ve been feeling down lately. Always having to save people, haven’t had much time for myself you know? Everyone just expects you to always save the day while smiling. Kinda gets to you y’know?”
“I definitely understand that. When someone has to carry such heavy expectations always, its normal to feel stressed out and mentally exhausted. Have you thought of doing things to de-stress yourself? Just exercising a bit, play a few games. Hell, breaking things can be a good way to release your stress too.”
“I mean, running around is kinda like exercise isn’t it? And I don’t have time to play games, nor is it really fun for me nowadays. Breaking things… hold on what?”
“Yes, it might seem terrible to you but hurting others and breaking things. They’re extremely useful in releasing stress. Like those politicians I kidnapped.”
“You, what?? I thought you were doing this out of kindness but it seems like you’re still a rotten villain!”
“Relax, we’re here for a therapy session, aren’t we? Think of it hypothetically. These deplorable politicians have been causing trouble for the lower-class civilians, bribing people and spreading injustice behind the scenes. Shouldn’t they be punished in some way?”
“I mean, I guess, but we aren’t the right ones for that. Just because they –“
Holding up his hand, MindBreaker interrupted him “If not us, then who? You should see the sense in it. They’ve been carrying out their dirty deeds for far too long without being punished. And you need a way to destress yourself. Why not kill 2 birds with one stone by doing this?” Trying to convince a stable Justice would’ve been impossible, but with the specially brewed tea, it was a lot more possible.
“I… I see what you’re getting at, but still. Wouldn’t it be better to leave it to the police?”
“The politicians will just end up bribing them, trust me. It’s up to you, Justice, to punish them. Show them how wrong they are. Once you’ve released your stress on them, you can go back to being a hero. What do you say?”
“That’s… fair, I guess. Yes, I completely get it now. Sure! Where are they?” asked Justice, finally convinced. “Right away, follow me.” Grinning to himself, MindBreaker led Justice towards the politicians. Years of trying to break the hero, and now he’d finally managed to convince him to do evil. Soon, Justice would totally be corrupted and be a supervillain himself! | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I stumbled deeper through the cave to the Dark Hydra’s lair, trying not to collapse. The hunt no longer gave me the rush of adrenaline that I had once been addicted to, but it was all that I had left. There was no life waiting for me outside of this world of crime I had trapped myself in.
I could feel the warmth of the light behind me getting weaker and I travelled further, out of breath and sweating despite the cold. How anyone could stay down here for days on end, I didn’t understand. Eventually, I reached a doorway leading into a room lit by a flickering fire. I took a deep breath, steadied myself and stepped inside.
“Where’s the money?” I tried my best to sound infuriated, to mask how utterly exhausted I really felt. I heard a soft chuckle from a chair by the fireplace.
“Oh please. As if I would ever *actually* rob a bank,” she spun around in her seat and gestured to the sofa and mug of tea next to her. “Take a seat, Captain Dragon.”
I groaned quietly. Captain Dragon was such a stupid name, but it was what the public had dubbed me and I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Cautiously, I sat, aware of how close I was to her, how easily she could just reach out and spit acid in my face. I shuffled uncomfortably.
“What is this? What to you want?” I glared at her, trying to keep the anger in my voice. She raised an eyebrow at me and pushed my mug into my hands.
“I want to talk, Lili,”
“How do you know my name?”
“It wasn’t exactly hard. You were in the news a couple years back for that fishing competition, and I’ve seen your face too many times not to recognise you.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Do take off that mask, by the way. It’s pointless and you look ridiculous wearing it.”
I removed the mask, suddenly insecure. She knew about my major screw-up at the fishing competition! Since she was the only person who knew me anymore, I was utterly embarrassed.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m worried about you. This past year, it’s just felt like your heart isn’t in this whole superhero thing anymore, and the bags under your eyes might just peel your skin off sooner or later,”
I looked away, blushing furiously. Of course I cared what she thought. I had to care. I took another sip of my tea and wondered how it was that she managed to get under my skin so easily, trying not to shake and give away how nervous I was.
“Lili, are you ok?” There was something strange in her voice, something I hadn’t heard in a while - genuine concern. I nodded and gulped, turning back towards her. “Look, Lili, you need a break. Go on holiday, see a therapist, make friends! How long has it been since you broke up with Lindsay?”
“Three months,” I whispered.
“Lili, you have to let yourself recover. This level of pressure is not healthy, especially for a prolonged period of time. Please. And then when you come back, maybe things can be normal again?”
I nodded and grinned.
“That would be great,” I answered enthusiastically. I quickly realised, however, that I was letting myself show vulnerability to the villain and hardened my glare, “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, though. I still hate you.”
She smiled slyly, stood up and walked towards me. Suddenly very uneasy, I gripped the arms of the sofa and tensed up. She leaned forward so her breath tickled my ear and whispered,
“There is a very fine line between love and hate.” | As I hoisted myself into the penthouse through a side window, I breathed an internal sigh of relief. *Finally. One mission completed.*
My heart sank when I thought more about it, though. This was just one of many steps to finally clearing New York City of needlessly rich individuals who used up valuable resources to hinder others' ability to thrive.
However, this kill was different.
Landon. Landon D'laney. We had an...interesting past, to put it lightly. Confusing would be more descriptive.
I'd known her since grade school. We'd been casual friends, until something strange happened. Something that I'd rather not mention. Something here, in NYC.
After that, we'd been brutal to each other. What do you expect from an overachieving sports fanatic and a Class A basic bitch, being forced to work together at the same private school for 8 hours a day?
As the years went on, we changed, as all children do. I loosened up on responsibilities but still remained valedictorian, while she only grew more and more influential. And manipulative. We pretended that nothing had happened, and that we'd always been classic high school enemies.
Oh, but we knew. We knew each other inside and out; could read the other like an open book. Knew exactly what was going on, even when not speaking to the other for months at a time.
Eventually, I took on my family's legacy; I became a part time superhero. As a cover up story, I worked at the family restaurant. Typical job.
Landon, on the other hand, was on a whole other level. She singlehandedly convinced a group of investors to loan her money-but not just for any simple investment. With that money, she bought NYC. Every square foot of it. It was successful, and she was hailed as the new goddess of real estate.
Everyone was surprised, but not me. I always knew that Landon had it in her. Unfortunately for both of us, she fit the agenda. She had to go.
Might as well get the hardest job done first, right? I pulled out a gun and started tiptoeing around the penthouse, slightly amazed. The architecture, just like her legacy, was on a whole other level, as always. I went from room, to room, to room, knowing that I was being recorded.
Eventually, I got to the dining room. I stepped in and momentarily put the gun down; the papers hadn't lied. The view of the city was AMAZING, and I stood there in awe, taking it all in.
After a few seconds, I skimmed the room with my eyes; and there she was.
Sitting there, slightly resting her head on her hand (that had perfectly manicured nails, as always), with her trademark snarky smile, was Landon.
"Why, come here, my friend. It's been such a long time."
I slowly walked to a chair across from her and sat down hesitantly, not saying anything. I was in shock, and quickly pocketed the gun.
Landon took a sip of a tea glass that was sitting on a glass countertop, and put it down, smiling as if she knew exactly what was coming next. She got up, crossed her arms, and motioned for me to get up as well. We walked towards the glass wall, admiring the view.
"I think you and I need to talk," she said softly, with a slightly threatening undertone. She grinned again, and took a step back, crossing her arms. Landon looked me up and down, and I nodded profusely, still not able to speak.
"We have a bit of history to discuss, don't you think? Such as-" Landon reached into my jacket pocket and took the gun, and resumed crossing her arms.
"-the time we were lovers?"
\- - - - - - - - -
sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time and i'm writing this at 2am haha | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I had finally finished crawling through ventilation shafts. It was twenty floors underground and somehow I still couldn't find an easier way in. I undo the cover and drop down into the hallway. *I don't have time for this,* was my only thought as I started searching for Dr. Malice to stop him from launching the missile. I opened a door I remembered leading to his office.
He was sat there, in his black lab coat, at a table. There was a steaming kettle on the table and two cups of what looked like tea. "How many times have you been in here, Mike? I'd rather drop formalities here, if you would, but I can call you Burning Man if you wish."
I blinked, staring at him. *What the...*
"You've been dragging your feet lately. Over the last five plans I've attempted, you foiled three of them." He slid a folder over to the other side of the table as I approached it. "Lucky for you, the ones that succeeded were of the altruistic variety. I did enough damage to the student loan and healthcare systems that they'll never be able to figure out who owes what and have to start over."
I opened the folder, it had my student financial report and the bills for my mom in the hospital. I sat down. "How long have you known who I am?"
"Mike, I figured it out day one. You haven't exactly been subtle. Henchmen know too, though there's a rule not to mess with you in your personal life." He sipped from his tea cup as I read through the files, a little horrified at how much information he had on me.
I sniffed the tea, "Green tea with raspberry?"
Dr. Malice nodded, "And a little honey. It should be drinkable, I made it when you were crawling through the vents on floor fifteen. Seriously, you could have used an elevator on the third."
I sipped at it, "Last time you had your henchmen waiting for me with guns."
"Last time you broke in, I was with a patient. I am actually a medical professional, though I'm surprised you didn't know." Dr. Malic pointed over to his office wall where there were several PhDs and certificates. A lot of of them for fields of medicine.
I blinked standing up with my tea to read them, "So... why are we talking instead of fighting?" I turned to him, suddenly self conscious, "Not that I'm relieved, but usually by now we're trading blows."
"I wanted to let you know I'll be taking care of your mother's medical treatment. With my staff, she'll be up and about again within the year. No strings, and you can even pick back up thwarting my 'nefarious' plans." He rolled his eyes, as I stood there, stunned.
"You're just going to use her as leve-"
"I would never. I take my oath to do no harm very seriously when it comes to patients. Mental and physical health are important, and you have been far more stressed than you let on. As a medical professional, my recommendation would be to quit one of your jobs, and take break."
I sat back down in stunned silence. I sipped my tea, and waited for the catch. Dr. Malice didn't say anything, just sipping his tea and watching me. "I... might consider that. I've still got bills to pay."
"Taken care of."
​
"What? No, I can't let you-"
"No, I don't expect repayment. You have made cleaning up the world more interesting, and I would rather you do so in good spirits. Play some video games, I know a few interesting ones have come out on the market, my kids won't stop raving about Halo and Ice something or other." He waved his hand dismissively.
"You have kids?" I stared at him, having never seen any sign of them before now.
We spent the rest of the day talking, starting with his family and eventually shifting to mine. I slowly felt a lot of the stress leave my body as we did, and couldn't help but wonder if he was really a bad guy, or he just seemed made a big show of it. | As I hoisted myself into the penthouse through a side window, I breathed an internal sigh of relief. *Finally. One mission completed.*
My heart sank when I thought more about it, though. This was just one of many steps to finally clearing New York City of needlessly rich individuals who used up valuable resources to hinder others' ability to thrive.
However, this kill was different.
Landon. Landon D'laney. We had an...interesting past, to put it lightly. Confusing would be more descriptive.
I'd known her since grade school. We'd been casual friends, until something strange happened. Something that I'd rather not mention. Something here, in NYC.
After that, we'd been brutal to each other. What do you expect from an overachieving sports fanatic and a Class A basic bitch, being forced to work together at the same private school for 8 hours a day?
As the years went on, we changed, as all children do. I loosened up on responsibilities but still remained valedictorian, while she only grew more and more influential. And manipulative. We pretended that nothing had happened, and that we'd always been classic high school enemies.
Oh, but we knew. We knew each other inside and out; could read the other like an open book. Knew exactly what was going on, even when not speaking to the other for months at a time.
Eventually, I took on my family's legacy; I became a part time superhero. As a cover up story, I worked at the family restaurant. Typical job.
Landon, on the other hand, was on a whole other level. She singlehandedly convinced a group of investors to loan her money-but not just for any simple investment. With that money, she bought NYC. Every square foot of it. It was successful, and she was hailed as the new goddess of real estate.
Everyone was surprised, but not me. I always knew that Landon had it in her. Unfortunately for both of us, she fit the agenda. She had to go.
Might as well get the hardest job done first, right? I pulled out a gun and started tiptoeing around the penthouse, slightly amazed. The architecture, just like her legacy, was on a whole other level, as always. I went from room, to room, to room, knowing that I was being recorded.
Eventually, I got to the dining room. I stepped in and momentarily put the gun down; the papers hadn't lied. The view of the city was AMAZING, and I stood there in awe, taking it all in.
After a few seconds, I skimmed the room with my eyes; and there she was.
Sitting there, slightly resting her head on her hand (that had perfectly manicured nails, as always), with her trademark snarky smile, was Landon.
"Why, come here, my friend. It's been such a long time."
I slowly walked to a chair across from her and sat down hesitantly, not saying anything. I was in shock, and quickly pocketed the gun.
Landon took a sip of a tea glass that was sitting on a glass countertop, and put it down, smiling as if she knew exactly what was coming next. She got up, crossed her arms, and motioned for me to get up as well. We walked towards the glass wall, admiring the view.
"I think you and I need to talk," she said softly, with a slightly threatening undertone. She grinned again, and took a step back, crossing her arms. Landon looked me up and down, and I nodded profusely, still not able to speak.
"We have a bit of history to discuss, don't you think? Such as-" Landon reached into my jacket pocket and took the gun, and resumed crossing her arms.
"-the time we were lovers?"
\- - - - - - - - -
sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time and i'm writing this at 2am haha | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | She sips her tea, the very act seeming wrong to Captain Super. They are enemies. They have to fight. Not this. Not sitting at the table, drinking green tea. He had more important things to do. "Do you think I would fall for this, She-wolf? Poison is so beneath you!"
She-wolf sighs. She sets down her cup and leans back in her chair. "Oh come off it, David. We're off the clock here." She motions to the tea set, pushing some sugar and cream closer. He goes to protest, when she holds up a hand. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so by now. I'm just here to talk. Now sit down and drink your tea."
Begrudgingly, David sits. He pours some cream and sugar into his tea. Holding up the cup, he eyes her over the rim before taking a sip. The warm liquid slides down his throat, warming him in all the right places. He looks at her quizzically as he sets the cup down. "Added something special, She-wolf?"
She smiles ruefully. "A little brandy always goes well with tea. Besides, I figured it would help you." She sobers as she leans forward. "I've noticed things about you recently. Things that concern me. When's the last time you've had a day off?"
"I never take a day off from fighting crime. Villains are always abound and it is my duty to fight them wherever they come."
"I understand that, David, but you need to take time for yourself. When's the last time you slept?"
He scoffs. "Sleep is for the weak. Besides, caffeine gives me the boost to continue to fight crime!" She-wolf reaches forward and grasps his arm in a light but firm hold. She slides up his sleeve and starts to run her fingers over the scars on his arm, both old and new. He sighs and closes his eyes.
"When did you start cutting again, David?" She stands up and walks away from the table, grabbing some supplies from the cabinet before returning. She pulls his arm closer and pushes the sleeve up farther, revealing several neat lines, leading down his skin. She pulls out some antiseptic and starts applying it to his wounds.
"A couple of weeks ago. I-I just needed to get this stress out. I'm too busy." He looks down and away from her, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment.
"Oh, David," she mumbles. She reaches forward and cups his chin, turning his face back towards her. Her brown eyes stare deep into his blue ones, before the floodgate breaks and tears well up in his eyes. She pulls him towards her as he cries into her shoulder. His body shakes as she slides a hand up and down his back. He hiccups and sniffles, unloading all the pent-up self loathing, the rage, the self imposed punishment, the deep feelings of inadequacy. And she took his pain, his suffering. She took the burden off him just for a while, letting the Captain Super persona fade away, revealing the hurt David Nelson underneath.
After what feels like hours, he pulls away, sniffling and wiping his eyes. "I-I'm..." His words are cut off as she lean forward, kissing him softly. The kiss lingers as she reaches a hand up to brush her fingers along his cheek. He sighs into the kiss, feeling the weight of a thousand sleepless nights being lifted off him. He cups her cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her smooth skin. She pulls back and rests her forehead against his.
"David.... Don't you dare apologize to me. This going on in your head; these demons you fight are not your fault. You are not weak or faulty or stupid or whatever your head says you are. You are kind and smart and funny and courageous and amazing. You are probably the strongest person I know, and that's including Iron Cuffs." He chuckles at this, his laugh watery. "Everyone needs a break now and again. You're not weak for wanting to take one. You're not stupid or a failure. You're human. Even with super powers, you're still human. So, stop trying to be perfect and doing what other people think you should be doing. Do what David wants.
"So, stay here with me in the lair. I'll make that chicken noodle soup you like and we'll watch Mystery Science Theater. Besides, I already called G.O.O.D and got the city covered. And I pulled some strings with the Villain Guild to hold off on attacking for a while. So, what do you say?"
David sighs again, before kissing her lips softly again. "As long as we start with Birdemic first." | As I hoisted myself into the penthouse through a side window, I breathed an internal sigh of relief. *Finally. One mission completed.*
My heart sank when I thought more about it, though. This was just one of many steps to finally clearing New York City of needlessly rich individuals who used up valuable resources to hinder others' ability to thrive.
However, this kill was different.
Landon. Landon D'laney. We had an...interesting past, to put it lightly. Confusing would be more descriptive.
I'd known her since grade school. We'd been casual friends, until something strange happened. Something that I'd rather not mention. Something here, in NYC.
After that, we'd been brutal to each other. What do you expect from an overachieving sports fanatic and a Class A basic bitch, being forced to work together at the same private school for 8 hours a day?
As the years went on, we changed, as all children do. I loosened up on responsibilities but still remained valedictorian, while she only grew more and more influential. And manipulative. We pretended that nothing had happened, and that we'd always been classic high school enemies.
Oh, but we knew. We knew each other inside and out; could read the other like an open book. Knew exactly what was going on, even when not speaking to the other for months at a time.
Eventually, I took on my family's legacy; I became a part time superhero. As a cover up story, I worked at the family restaurant. Typical job.
Landon, on the other hand, was on a whole other level. She singlehandedly convinced a group of investors to loan her money-but not just for any simple investment. With that money, she bought NYC. Every square foot of it. It was successful, and she was hailed as the new goddess of real estate.
Everyone was surprised, but not me. I always knew that Landon had it in her. Unfortunately for both of us, she fit the agenda. She had to go.
Might as well get the hardest job done first, right? I pulled out a gun and started tiptoeing around the penthouse, slightly amazed. The architecture, just like her legacy, was on a whole other level, as always. I went from room, to room, to room, knowing that I was being recorded.
Eventually, I got to the dining room. I stepped in and momentarily put the gun down; the papers hadn't lied. The view of the city was AMAZING, and I stood there in awe, taking it all in.
After a few seconds, I skimmed the room with my eyes; and there she was.
Sitting there, slightly resting her head on her hand (that had perfectly manicured nails, as always), with her trademark snarky smile, was Landon.
"Why, come here, my friend. It's been such a long time."
I slowly walked to a chair across from her and sat down hesitantly, not saying anything. I was in shock, and quickly pocketed the gun.
Landon took a sip of a tea glass that was sitting on a glass countertop, and put it down, smiling as if she knew exactly what was coming next. She got up, crossed her arms, and motioned for me to get up as well. We walked towards the glass wall, admiring the view.
"I think you and I need to talk," she said softly, with a slightly threatening undertone. She grinned again, and took a step back, crossing her arms. Landon looked me up and down, and I nodded profusely, still not able to speak.
"We have a bit of history to discuss, don't you think? Such as-" Landon reached into my jacket pocket and took the gun, and resumed crossing her arms.
"-the time we were lovers?"
\- - - - - - - - -
sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time and i'm writing this at 2am haha | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | "Beep! Beep!" My watch for SOS calls screams at me.
Again? I groan and get up from my impromptu 5-minute power nap on the floor. It's a carpet floor, mind you, that ought to count as a bed. Didn't I save the day today already? Or did i mix that up with volunteering at the Soup Kitchen, or one of the many public appearances for some charity… all done with a fake smile and fake enthusiatism. That villain only attacks once a day, he's been doing that for years.
I check that damn noisy watch. It's Thursday!? But i defeated him on Tuesday… shit. I missed Wednesday, didn't I, the days keep blending together... Arrrrrgh I can see the headlines now: "Hero failed the world for the 5th time!" Damnit! Why does the news never say, "Hero saved the day for the 1500th time!" But nooooo, they can't because it's a too 'common' of a news story. DAMN THIS UNGRATEFUL CITY. I HATE YOU ALL.
Whatever. Time to fix this, again. Mask slapped on, I teleport to the enemy's lair.
Ah ha. I see the enemy dressed in black, sitting.. with a tea cup? He senses my presence from behind and starts talking,"Greetings my dear hero, Void- AHH"
I shoot all of my ray gun bullets at him. Missed. I hit everything in the room but him and his stupid tea. GREAT! I stumble from the lack of sleep catching up to me.
"Void Wind?" The man questions me, like a fearsome discipline master to a hooligan student, "That. was. RUDE. My monologue! You're supposed to let me finish! There's supposed to be a wait time of a minute before the fight actually starts, you know this! It's the part where I talk and we pose. And how did you miss? I was right in front of you."
I do not care. Hero-villain traditions suck. My life sucks. I wish I wasn't a slave to my hero identity. While he was blabbering, I collect myself. I aim, readying my fighting pose. I teleport and land a power kick on him!
I miss again. Hit the wall instead. "FUCK!" I would swear, if I had a voice.
The man grunted, "Tch, can you stop fooling around and have some tea? We need to talk." He gestures to the seat across him.
I sigh and collapse into the chair. Ahhhh it's so comfy… I drift into sleep-
Slap. OW. I awake to an angry villain. As a knee-jerk reaction, I deliver a punch right in his gut. A punch that landed, but it didn't even knock him back. Urgh, it usually sends him flying across the room! Grrrr, bad luck.
"Listen." He spoke with the seriousness of a SWAT emergency team leader. "First off, your watch's beeping is annoying. Answer the damn call!"
I glanced down at that noise pollutant of a watch. Huh, I thought I'd answered it already. I silenced it by denying the call
"Seriously, Void Wind? I leave you a voicemail with a detailed evil plan, and you didn't even bother to check my location." He huffed in disapproval, "I'm not always in this lair, you know."
I hand him a blank stare. He was right… it's not like me to assume. I am so tired. Absentmindedly, I hold the teacup that villain hands to me, and sip from it.
"Just wearing the mask, and no suit? Lousy hits and gunshots? No hero-villain manners?"
I squirm and say nothing. I sip more tea. Boy, am I glad that I'm mute.
"I suppose that says I'm not worth it, huh."
I shake my head.
"And you do remember that I can read your thoughts, right? Being mute won't help you."
… Oh. Right.
"Wind, do you even know my name?"
His name? Of course I do… I hated it for years, hated it! Been writing it down on paper, and then tearing it up in frustration whenever he escaped from prison. In my mind, despite its fog, I searched for it.
It's… It's… i can't remember… Brain's too foggy.
Think! Think! It's got something to do with darkness. Dark Lord? No.. Night Pickles? No. Moon Boy? NO!
I can't fucking remember! I… I can't…
I break down. Crying. He knows everything about me, but I don't even know his name. I can't take this anymore… A hand pats my shoulder, followed by a comforting voice.
"Hey… it's okay. It's okay. My name's Shadow Snake. You knew that."
The sobs continue. I sink further into the chair.
"Don't worry… I'll let you rest. No more villain stuff for me until your mental health is better. Way better."
I stop, and stare at him. Why?
"It's no fun defeating a sick hero. Just catch some Zs, take a vacation for a few weeks. I'm going to play with my cats." Shadow Snake waltzes off into another room, his voice riddled with glee as he greets his kitties.
There's one thing I do remember: Shadow can't lie. Alone and assured, I finally rest. Ahhhh the chair is so comfy. | As I hoisted myself into the penthouse through a side window, I breathed an internal sigh of relief. *Finally. One mission completed.*
My heart sank when I thought more about it, though. This was just one of many steps to finally clearing New York City of needlessly rich individuals who used up valuable resources to hinder others' ability to thrive.
However, this kill was different.
Landon. Landon D'laney. We had an...interesting past, to put it lightly. Confusing would be more descriptive.
I'd known her since grade school. We'd been casual friends, until something strange happened. Something that I'd rather not mention. Something here, in NYC.
After that, we'd been brutal to each other. What do you expect from an overachieving sports fanatic and a Class A basic bitch, being forced to work together at the same private school for 8 hours a day?
As the years went on, we changed, as all children do. I loosened up on responsibilities but still remained valedictorian, while she only grew more and more influential. And manipulative. We pretended that nothing had happened, and that we'd always been classic high school enemies.
Oh, but we knew. We knew each other inside and out; could read the other like an open book. Knew exactly what was going on, even when not speaking to the other for months at a time.
Eventually, I took on my family's legacy; I became a part time superhero. As a cover up story, I worked at the family restaurant. Typical job.
Landon, on the other hand, was on a whole other level. She singlehandedly convinced a group of investors to loan her money-but not just for any simple investment. With that money, she bought NYC. Every square foot of it. It was successful, and she was hailed as the new goddess of real estate.
Everyone was surprised, but not me. I always knew that Landon had it in her. Unfortunately for both of us, she fit the agenda. She had to go.
Might as well get the hardest job done first, right? I pulled out a gun and started tiptoeing around the penthouse, slightly amazed. The architecture, just like her legacy, was on a whole other level, as always. I went from room, to room, to room, knowing that I was being recorded.
Eventually, I got to the dining room. I stepped in and momentarily put the gun down; the papers hadn't lied. The view of the city was AMAZING, and I stood there in awe, taking it all in.
After a few seconds, I skimmed the room with my eyes; and there she was.
Sitting there, slightly resting her head on her hand (that had perfectly manicured nails, as always), with her trademark snarky smile, was Landon.
"Why, come here, my friend. It's been such a long time."
I slowly walked to a chair across from her and sat down hesitantly, not saying anything. I was in shock, and quickly pocketed the gun.
Landon took a sip of a tea glass that was sitting on a glass countertop, and put it down, smiling as if she knew exactly what was coming next. She got up, crossed her arms, and motioned for me to get up as well. We walked towards the glass wall, admiring the view.
"I think you and I need to talk," she said softly, with a slightly threatening undertone. She grinned again, and took a step back, crossing her arms. Landon looked me up and down, and I nodded profusely, still not able to speak.
"We have a bit of history to discuss, don't you think? Such as-" Landon reached into my jacket pocket and took the gun, and resumed crossing her arms.
"-the time we were lovers?"
\- - - - - - - - -
sorry for any mistakes, this is my first time and i'm writing this at 2am haha | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I stumbled deeper through the cave to the Dark Hydra’s lair, trying not to collapse. The hunt no longer gave me the rush of adrenaline that I had once been addicted to, but it was all that I had left. There was no life waiting for me outside of this world of crime I had trapped myself in.
I could feel the warmth of the light behind me getting weaker and I travelled further, out of breath and sweating despite the cold. How anyone could stay down here for days on end, I didn’t understand. Eventually, I reached a doorway leading into a room lit by a flickering fire. I took a deep breath, steadied myself and stepped inside.
“Where’s the money?” I tried my best to sound infuriated, to mask how utterly exhausted I really felt. I heard a soft chuckle from a chair by the fireplace.
“Oh please. As if I would ever *actually* rob a bank,” she spun around in her seat and gestured to the sofa and mug of tea next to her. “Take a seat, Captain Dragon.”
I groaned quietly. Captain Dragon was such a stupid name, but it was what the public had dubbed me and I couldn’t exactly argue with that. Cautiously, I sat, aware of how close I was to her, how easily she could just reach out and spit acid in my face. I shuffled uncomfortably.
“What is this? What to you want?” I glared at her, trying to keep the anger in my voice. She raised an eyebrow at me and pushed my mug into my hands.
“I want to talk, Lili,”
“How do you know my name?”
“It wasn’t exactly hard. You were in the news a couple years back for that fishing competition, and I’ve seen your face too many times not to recognise you.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Do take off that mask, by the way. It’s pointless and you look ridiculous wearing it.”
I removed the mask, suddenly insecure. She knew about my major screw-up at the fishing competition! Since she was the only person who knew me anymore, I was utterly embarrassed.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m worried about you. This past year, it’s just felt like your heart isn’t in this whole superhero thing anymore, and the bags under your eyes might just peel your skin off sooner or later,”
I looked away, blushing furiously. Of course I cared what she thought. I had to care. I took another sip of my tea and wondered how it was that she managed to get under my skin so easily, trying not to shake and give away how nervous I was.
“Lili, are you ok?” There was something strange in her voice, something I hadn’t heard in a while - genuine concern. I nodded and gulped, turning back towards her. “Look, Lili, you need a break. Go on holiday, see a therapist, make friends! How long has it been since you broke up with Lindsay?”
“Three months,” I whispered.
“Lili, you have to let yourself recover. This level of pressure is not healthy, especially for a prolonged period of time. Please. And then when you come back, maybe things can be normal again?”
I nodded and grinned.
“That would be great,” I answered enthusiastically. I quickly realised, however, that I was letting myself show vulnerability to the villain and hardened my glare, “This doesn’t mean we’re friends, though. I still hate you.”
She smiled slyly, stood up and walked towards me. Suddenly very uneasy, I gripped the arms of the sofa and tensed up. She leaned forward so her breath tickled my ear and whispered,
“There is a very fine line between love and hate.” | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | I had finally finished crawling through ventilation shafts. It was twenty floors underground and somehow I still couldn't find an easier way in. I undo the cover and drop down into the hallway. *I don't have time for this,* was my only thought as I started searching for Dr. Malice to stop him from launching the missile. I opened a door I remembered leading to his office.
He was sat there, in his black lab coat, at a table. There was a steaming kettle on the table and two cups of what looked like tea. "How many times have you been in here, Mike? I'd rather drop formalities here, if you would, but I can call you Burning Man if you wish."
I blinked, staring at him. *What the...*
"You've been dragging your feet lately. Over the last five plans I've attempted, you foiled three of them." He slid a folder over to the other side of the table as I approached it. "Lucky for you, the ones that succeeded were of the altruistic variety. I did enough damage to the student loan and healthcare systems that they'll never be able to figure out who owes what and have to start over."
I opened the folder, it had my student financial report and the bills for my mom in the hospital. I sat down. "How long have you known who I am?"
"Mike, I figured it out day one. You haven't exactly been subtle. Henchmen know too, though there's a rule not to mess with you in your personal life." He sipped from his tea cup as I read through the files, a little horrified at how much information he had on me.
I sniffed the tea, "Green tea with raspberry?"
Dr. Malice nodded, "And a little honey. It should be drinkable, I made it when you were crawling through the vents on floor fifteen. Seriously, you could have used an elevator on the third."
I sipped at it, "Last time you had your henchmen waiting for me with guns."
"Last time you broke in, I was with a patient. I am actually a medical professional, though I'm surprised you didn't know." Dr. Malic pointed over to his office wall where there were several PhDs and certificates. A lot of of them for fields of medicine.
I blinked standing up with my tea to read them, "So... why are we talking instead of fighting?" I turned to him, suddenly self conscious, "Not that I'm relieved, but usually by now we're trading blows."
"I wanted to let you know I'll be taking care of your mother's medical treatment. With my staff, she'll be up and about again within the year. No strings, and you can even pick back up thwarting my 'nefarious' plans." He rolled his eyes, as I stood there, stunned.
"You're just going to use her as leve-"
"I would never. I take my oath to do no harm very seriously when it comes to patients. Mental and physical health are important, and you have been far more stressed than you let on. As a medical professional, my recommendation would be to quit one of your jobs, and take break."
I sat back down in stunned silence. I sipped my tea, and waited for the catch. Dr. Malice didn't say anything, just sipping his tea and watching me. "I... might consider that. I've still got bills to pay."
"Taken care of."
​
"What? No, I can't let you-"
"No, I don't expect repayment. You have made cleaning up the world more interesting, and I would rather you do so in good spirits. Play some video games, I know a few interesting ones have come out on the market, my kids won't stop raving about Halo and Ice something or other." He waved his hand dismissively.
"You have kids?" I stared at him, having never seen any sign of them before now.
We spent the rest of the day talking, starting with his family and eventually shifting to mine. I slowly felt a lot of the stress leave my body as we did, and couldn't help but wonder if he was really a bad guy, or he just seemed made a big show of it. | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | She sips her tea, the very act seeming wrong to Captain Super. They are enemies. They have to fight. Not this. Not sitting at the table, drinking green tea. He had more important things to do. "Do you think I would fall for this, She-wolf? Poison is so beneath you!"
She-wolf sighs. She sets down her cup and leans back in her chair. "Oh come off it, David. We're off the clock here." She motions to the tea set, pushing some sugar and cream closer. He goes to protest, when she holds up a hand. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so by now. I'm just here to talk. Now sit down and drink your tea."
Begrudgingly, David sits. He pours some cream and sugar into his tea. Holding up the cup, he eyes her over the rim before taking a sip. The warm liquid slides down his throat, warming him in all the right places. He looks at her quizzically as he sets the cup down. "Added something special, She-wolf?"
She smiles ruefully. "A little brandy always goes well with tea. Besides, I figured it would help you." She sobers as she leans forward. "I've noticed things about you recently. Things that concern me. When's the last time you've had a day off?"
"I never take a day off from fighting crime. Villains are always abound and it is my duty to fight them wherever they come."
"I understand that, David, but you need to take time for yourself. When's the last time you slept?"
He scoffs. "Sleep is for the weak. Besides, caffeine gives me the boost to continue to fight crime!" She-wolf reaches forward and grasps his arm in a light but firm hold. She slides up his sleeve and starts to run her fingers over the scars on his arm, both old and new. He sighs and closes his eyes.
"When did you start cutting again, David?" She stands up and walks away from the table, grabbing some supplies from the cabinet before returning. She pulls his arm closer and pushes the sleeve up farther, revealing several neat lines, leading down his skin. She pulls out some antiseptic and starts applying it to his wounds.
"A couple of weeks ago. I-I just needed to get this stress out. I'm too busy." He looks down and away from her, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment.
"Oh, David," she mumbles. She reaches forward and cups his chin, turning his face back towards her. Her brown eyes stare deep into his blue ones, before the floodgate breaks and tears well up in his eyes. She pulls him towards her as he cries into her shoulder. His body shakes as she slides a hand up and down his back. He hiccups and sniffles, unloading all the pent-up self loathing, the rage, the self imposed punishment, the deep feelings of inadequacy. And she took his pain, his suffering. She took the burden off him just for a while, letting the Captain Super persona fade away, revealing the hurt David Nelson underneath.
After what feels like hours, he pulls away, sniffling and wiping his eyes. "I-I'm..." His words are cut off as she lean forward, kissing him softly. The kiss lingers as she reaches a hand up to brush her fingers along his cheek. He sighs into the kiss, feeling the weight of a thousand sleepless nights being lifted off him. He cups her cheek, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her smooth skin. She pulls back and rests her forehead against his.
"David.... Don't you dare apologize to me. This going on in your head; these demons you fight are not your fault. You are not weak or faulty or stupid or whatever your head says you are. You are kind and smart and funny and courageous and amazing. You are probably the strongest person I know, and that's including Iron Cuffs." He chuckles at this, his laugh watery. "Everyone needs a break now and again. You're not weak for wanting to take one. You're not stupid or a failure. You're human. Even with super powers, you're still human. So, stop trying to be perfect and doing what other people think you should be doing. Do what David wants.
"So, stay here with me in the lair. I'll make that chicken noodle soup you like and we'll watch Mystery Science Theater. Besides, I already called G.O.O.D and got the city covered. And I pulled some strings with the Villain Guild to hold off on attacking for a while. So, what do you say?"
David sighs again, before kissing her lips softly again. "As long as we start with Birdemic first." | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | "You can't keep doing this, Starseeker. This has to end."
Preclude was seated at the other end of the room behind a solid looking table, unfazed by the door I had just kicked off its hinges halfway to him. No weapons, I noted, but on the table there was a tea set. A fucking tea set.
"You're right. This has to end. It fucking ends now."
I moved towards him, bursts of light blossoming in my vision as I prepared to hamper his retaliation. Now, in this confined space, I had him. There was no getting away. There would be struggle, I figured, he was slippery like that, but here, where I'd had time to bolster myself with the light in the previous chamber and he would not be able to avoid my concussive blasts, I finally had the advantage.
Which is why I was perplexed when he didn't move a muscle, even when I was hurtling towards him at top speed. I dug my heels into the ground to slow and caught myself on the edge of the table to prevent the skinny man from being crushed by my power, before preparing for his retaliation.
A second passed before I realized it wasn't coming. Preclude was still sitting there, just fucking sitting there, tea in hand.
"What's your angle, Preclude. If you let yourself get killed, I gotta say it'd be way worse for you than for me, and it's not like I'd be losing any sleep over your hide."
He took a sip of his tea before responding.
"No angle. I just want to talk".
I raised an eyebrow.
"All those escapes, humiliation after humiliation, and here you are just giving yourself up? I don't believe it."
Preclude sighed.
"I'm not surrendering, but we need to talk. Look, you and I both know your advantage increases the longer I sit here and let my power fade. In 5 minutes I won't be able to predict a single one of your blasts even if you pulled back your arm for a haymaker. And I know you don't need to do that. I'm willing to give you that. Sit".
He was right. I fucking hated it but damnit, he was right. Just like always. This had to be a trap, there's no way it wasn't, but I was so tired of the chase. I took the chair, and against my better judgment took a sip of the tea already waiting for me. I didn't take my eyes off him.
"I really appreciate it, Starseeker", he said. "I know we've had our differences, but I hope you know I've always respected you - from a professional standpoint, of course. That's why I want to tell you that I'm worried about you".
I could have laughed. "Respect? *Respect*? Do you call laughing in my face after tripping me into a sewer grate respect?!"
At that, he had a pained look.
"And I regret that. I admit I went over a line there, but I had my contract to fulfill and you have your job and -"
The fucking gall. My fatigue was quickly washed away by a fresh wave of red hot anger as I smashed the tea cup against the table, rising to my feet.
"Had! Had my job! You know what to call a hero that lets the same shitty fucking mercenary burglar get away over 15 times and gloat about it on national news? Fired! Fucking fired! And here you are, acting like we've got some fucking camaraderie!"
Preclude had jumped to his feet too, but not to flee. He pointed at the remnants of the teacup.
"There! Right there! That's the problem with you! Look, I'm sorry I was an ass about rubbing all of that in your face, I really am, but I didn't get you fired, and your obsession with catching me is not helping you one bit! This" - he gestured wildly at the teacup again - "is what your issue is! You were fired for losing your shit on live television and breaking a reporter's camera. You need to get your shit together, and coming after me is not how to do that!"
I stopped listening. Every slimy word out of his mouth was like a slap across my fucking face. How fucking dare he act like he knows anything about me.
I was done humoring him, time limits be damned. I lunged across the table, letting my power flare out in all directions, and tore straight through him.
There was no resistance. A hologram, continuing to stare at me, affronted. I should've fucking known.
"You needed to hear this from someone, Starseeker. I don't know who you have in your life, but if no one's talked to you about this I figured it would have to be me. Get your shit together."
The hologram disappeared as I smashed the table, continuing the motion so that I let myself fall amidst the wreckage. Hot tears streaked down my face. He was right - there was no one else.
I screamed until I couldn't anymore. | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | "Beep! Beep!" My watch for SOS calls screams at me.
Again? I groan and get up from my impromptu 5-minute power nap on the floor. It's a carpet floor, mind you, that ought to count as a bed. Didn't I save the day today already? Or did i mix that up with volunteering at the Soup Kitchen, or one of the many public appearances for some charity… all done with a fake smile and fake enthusiatism. That villain only attacks once a day, he's been doing that for years.
I check that damn noisy watch. It's Thursday!? But i defeated him on Tuesday… shit. I missed Wednesday, didn't I, the days keep blending together... Arrrrrgh I can see the headlines now: "Hero failed the world for the 5th time!" Damnit! Why does the news never say, "Hero saved the day for the 1500th time!" But nooooo, they can't because it's a too 'common' of a news story. DAMN THIS UNGRATEFUL CITY. I HATE YOU ALL.
Whatever. Time to fix this, again. Mask slapped on, I teleport to the enemy's lair.
Ah ha. I see the enemy dressed in black, sitting.. with a tea cup? He senses my presence from behind and starts talking,"Greetings my dear hero, Void- AHH"
I shoot all of my ray gun bullets at him. Missed. I hit everything in the room but him and his stupid tea. GREAT! I stumble from the lack of sleep catching up to me.
"Void Wind?" The man questions me, like a fearsome discipline master to a hooligan student, "That. was. RUDE. My monologue! You're supposed to let me finish! There's supposed to be a wait time of a minute before the fight actually starts, you know this! It's the part where I talk and we pose. And how did you miss? I was right in front of you."
I do not care. Hero-villain traditions suck. My life sucks. I wish I wasn't a slave to my hero identity. While he was blabbering, I collect myself. I aim, readying my fighting pose. I teleport and land a power kick on him!
I miss again. Hit the wall instead. "FUCK!" I would swear, if I had a voice.
The man grunted, "Tch, can you stop fooling around and have some tea? We need to talk." He gestures to the seat across him.
I sigh and collapse into the chair. Ahhhh it's so comfy… I drift into sleep-
Slap. OW. I awake to an angry villain. As a knee-jerk reaction, I deliver a punch right in his gut. A punch that landed, but it didn't even knock him back. Urgh, it usually sends him flying across the room! Grrrr, bad luck.
"Listen." He spoke with the seriousness of a SWAT emergency team leader. "First off, your watch's beeping is annoying. Answer the damn call!"
I glanced down at that noise pollutant of a watch. Huh, I thought I'd answered it already. I silenced it by denying the call
"Seriously, Void Wind? I leave you a voicemail with a detailed evil plan, and you didn't even bother to check my location." He huffed in disapproval, "I'm not always in this lair, you know."
I hand him a blank stare. He was right… it's not like me to assume. I am so tired. Absentmindedly, I hold the teacup that villain hands to me, and sip from it.
"Just wearing the mask, and no suit? Lousy hits and gunshots? No hero-villain manners?"
I squirm and say nothing. I sip more tea. Boy, am I glad that I'm mute.
"I suppose that says I'm not worth it, huh."
I shake my head.
"And you do remember that I can read your thoughts, right? Being mute won't help you."
… Oh. Right.
"Wind, do you even know my name?"
His name? Of course I do… I hated it for years, hated it! Been writing it down on paper, and then tearing it up in frustration whenever he escaped from prison. In my mind, despite its fog, I searched for it.
It's… It's… i can't remember… Brain's too foggy.
Think! Think! It's got something to do with darkness. Dark Lord? No.. Night Pickles? No. Moon Boy? NO!
I can't fucking remember! I… I can't…
I break down. Crying. He knows everything about me, but I don't even know his name. I can't take this anymore… A hand pats my shoulder, followed by a comforting voice.
"Hey… it's okay. It's okay. My name's Shadow Snake. You knew that."
The sobs continue. I sink further into the chair.
"Don't worry… I'll let you rest. No more villain stuff for me until your mental health is better. Way better."
I stop, and stare at him. Why?
"It's no fun defeating a sick hero. Just catch some Zs, take a vacation for a few weeks. I'm going to play with my cats." Shadow Snake waltzes off into another room, his voice riddled with glee as he greets his kitties.
There's one thing I do remember: Shadow can't lie. Alone and assured, I finally rest. Ahhhh the chair is so comfy. | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | "Have a seat," Tyrantinus said gently, with legs crossed like a gangster.
"The fuck?" I whispered in utter confusion, an unheroic word on the impulse.
"Didn't you hear what I said? Have a seat... Oh, you must think this is a trap... do you?"
"Surely you must be armed with something! You never fight empty-handed!" I double-downed on the concern.
"Oh, I sure am armed. With a cup of rose tea and a lighted cigar, I suppose." Tyrantinus replied.
Something was wrong, my eternal eye was not sensing any hostility from Tyrantinus and the heat sensor for weapons come up as negative.
"Please, be my guest." Tyrantinus beseeched.
With careful steps and a loaded bolt pistol, I slowly moved my way towards the throne chair and took a seat all while still pointing the gun at him. The scent of rose filled my nose, intertwining with the cigar smoke both which I was too anxious to have noticed at first.
"Ludwig, serve some for the young man then give us some space." Tyrantinus ordered
"Very well, **my master**." Ludwig obediently replied.
"Whatever you're planning it's not going to work Tyrantinus." I warned him, even though I was sitting so comfortably in his chair. The butler served my tea in an elegant cup and promptly left the room.
"This is poisoned, you can't fool me." I exercised my caution.
"Oh, would it kill you to loosen up a little?" Tyrantinus chided.
"Yea, yea it probably would." I replied.
"Fine, I'll take a sip out of your cup." With a clean teaspoon, he scooped some of the tea from my cup into his and drank it.
"See? Nothing's wrong with it."
"Fine." I took a sip, still a little suspicious but was reactive to the aroma and the gentle taste of the tea. If only the smoke from the cigar was not there to ruin it.
"So why did you fire the signal? Why lead me here. What is it you want?" I interrogated Tyrantinus.
"I'm old. Under these fancy black suit are machineries that keeps me alive. I can barely keep myself up, let's not mention the sustained damage from our battles." Tyrantinus said as he dapped the ashes onto the tray.
"I want to stop all these infighting. We're both great men living in a great city- well half of it. Why not stop the bickering and have more talks like this? I'm sure a hero like you has to have some downtime, perhaps with more tea." He continued
"You're telling me that you're retiring? After everything you did and the people that you killed? You expect me to believe this? Can you even stop your ways to begin with?" I questioned, with welling anger in my heart. Flashbacks of screams painted my nightmares. The image of my hands bloodied by my wounded love still haunts me to this very day but I was called, constantly, to protect this wretched- this great town from him and I never complained.
"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't slay you where you seat Tyrantinus!" I exclaimed.
"Well, I am able to stop my ways and cease fighting you. For one, you did destroy half of the city trying to chase me down. What's the point of being a villain without a city and no one there to be fearful of me?" He snickered.
"For two, **I am dying**."
Blood gushed out of Tyrantinus's mouth. His eyes bloodshot and nose bleeding.
"What the fuck!" I stood and screamed. In the nick of the moment, I was not able to deduce what was happening. Then it hit me. It was the tea. An onset poison with a delay. As a cold sweat ran down my back I felt a cold chill staring at my empty cup, I dropped my gun in shock. It was checkmate, I was checkmated. My blood poured onto the elegant table and I started to lose balance.
"Tell me where the fucking antidote is!"
"There is no antidote. Had you been stable minded this plan would have never had a chance."
I froze, knowing death is at the door. Never in a billion years would I have expected him to kill himself and take me down with him!
"I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm relieved I'm dead, I'm dead, why am I dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I don't want to die, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, fuck, I'm dead, Veronica, I'm relieved I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, hahahahahahahaha I'm dead, I don't want to die, I'm dead, Veronica I'm coming, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm happy to be dead, fuck, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm glad I'm dead, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, fuck I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, great I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead, I don't want to dieeeeeee, I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING DISUUSHISSHHSHSHSH!!!!"
Tyrantinus let out the grimmest smile I have ever seen on his face and stared at me with his demonically red eyes while blood continues to paint his face.
"Oh great hero Edmonto, if there is a hell I'll see you there." | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | Sitting, waiting, watching. The damned thing that will take my soul. I couldn't start any activity, for fear of being able to finish it, on account of the crime alert bell ringing at the most inconvenient times. At least it was well spent when Sky was here, we'd chat, go save the day, then come back to resume our conversation. But she's gone. She died nearly a year ago, but her death... It's followed me, never leaving my side, just like she did. But that's a disgrace to say she was at my side, becuase it was the complete opposite. She was the better one, and was infinitely better at everything. The bell rang its song of sorrow, and with a little laugh of insanity, I got up and went to my next mission.
On the way, my thoughts were clouded. They've always been like that, but since Sky's death, they've all bear a somber, depressing tone. I cleared up what I could for whatever was ahead of me.
Time to put on my heroic mask, at least, on the inside. The building in front of me was a.... warehouse? I looked back at the crime report to make sure, and yeah, this was labeled as a bank robbery. I opened the small side door to peek in, and was greeted not by a bunch of crooks, but by my arch nemesis, The Astral Assassin(who I usually just call Astral) sitting at a table, in an empty warehouse, with a cup of tea that had the scent of cinnamon.
Noticing me, she gestured for me to take a seat. My head was hurting, and I just accepted that it was probably a trap. I sat down in the chair, and slumped in it almost immediately. Astral took distress at it. "Look dude, what's wrong?" She spoke in a normal tone, one that made me visibly startled, since it wasn't in her usual evil voice. She let out a sigh. "Evil is fun and all, but part of it's battling you, or you know, when she was still around, your sister. But recently you've been ruthless, not bothering to put on a show for the bystanders, or heck, even just showing interest in the deeds that I'm doing. I was threatening to blow a bank and you kinda just sighed, froze me, threw me in the truck, and disarmed the bomb." I didn't know how to respond. But I guess that was the straw that broke the camel's back, becuase I just started bawling. Like, head on the table, full on crying. Astral ran to my side and tried to comfort me. As a force of habit, I jerked away and tried to land some half-empty punch. She easily avoided it and almost returned one in response, but caught herself. I was a wreck. She couldn't make eye contact. She spoke one more time. "Look, I- take this with a grain of salt but-" -she let out one more sigh- "I can't be the villain if I know you're this messed up. I'm evil, but I haven't killed anyone. I dealt specifically in the fear department. Your sister's death- it wasn't my fault. It was some hell of against her odds. She took thousands with her, fighting an alien species from annihilating earth." At this point I lost it. She could tell it was time to leave. "I- here's-" She punched me, and a card stuck to my left shoulder. She mumbled a quick "Bye" and threw herself out the door I came in. I dried my face and ran out after. Astral spoke in her normal evil tone. "Oh, you win this time, but swear on my life, I'll be back!" She flew off. I said some typical words along the lines of "Evil never prevails" and took off home. I looked at the card. It was a number, and a little message. "If you need to talk, I'm open."
I let out my own sigh, and for the first time in a while, decided I'd do something when I got back.
Text my Arch Nemesis.
Hi, I go by Sean, and I'm 14! I've always loved to write, and decided I'd try my hand at a writing prompt! Any feedback is appreciated, and if you'd like to see this little prompt continue, do let me know! | "Whats going on here?" I ask warily.
"Please join me. We have some... issues to discuss."
"Ok. whats the issue here... this isnt a trap is it."
"Oh no sir." He says setting the cup down "ive noticed a lack of... vigor in our recent matches is everything alright?"
"Why are you asking? are you tricking me?"
"As i said im merely trying to find out why you have been so... iffy lately."
"Rrriiiigghht. Ok well first off i dont trust you. Second off i need something to prove that you can be trusted and third why the sudden interest?"
"First i dont see why all my weapons are in the safe behind me. Second the code to that safe is 1-2-20-20 check for yourself. And lastly its no fun if you arent vigorously beating the living daylights out of me. Is that sufficient."
"Yyyes. Ok well recently my father died and its been bugging me that i couldnt make it to the funeral because i was saving a bank from a heist."
"Ah so youre feeling depressed?"
"Somewhat i... i..*sigh* i just need some time to gather my thoughts and pay my respects you know."
"Say no more. Lets come to an agreement since im evil not demented. I will give you two months to relax and take some you time in return i want an amazing fight at the end of that time. Deal?"
His hand came out in a gesture suggesting he wanted to do what he promised.
"Alright but if you make one move while im gone and im beating your ass. Capiche."
"Understood."
The next day i made an anouncement on tv.
"People, i am taking some leave to go visit my family. I have it on good authority that my nemesis will not attack you in that time. However should he break his promise i will destroy him like a whirlwind in a cornfield. Please stay strong while im gone."
And that is where i left it. Im only one month in but my pager hasnt gone off. I guess even a villain has a soft side once in a while. | |
[WP] As a superhero, you have very little time for yourself. Your mental health has plummeted, and your nemesis has noticed. One day, you break inside their lair to find them seated at the table with a cup of tea. They ask you to join them. | "Beep! Beep!" My watch for SOS calls screams at me.
Again? I groan and get up from my impromptu 5-minute power nap on the floor. It's a carpet floor, mind you, that ought to count as a bed. Didn't I save the day today already? Or did i mix that up with volunteering at the Soup Kitchen, or one of the many public appearances for some charity… all done with a fake smile and fake enthusiatism. That villain only attacks once a day, he's been doing that for years.
I check that damn noisy watch. It's Thursday!? But i defeated him on Tuesday… shit. I missed Wednesday, didn't I, the days keep blending together... Arrrrrgh I can see the headlines now: "Hero failed the world for the 5th time!" Damnit! Why does the news never say, "Hero saved the day for the 1500th time!" But nooooo, they can't because it's a too 'common' of a news story. DAMN THIS UNGRATEFUL CITY. I HATE YOU ALL.
Whatever. Time to fix this, again. Mask slapped on, I teleport to the enemy's lair.
Ah ha. I see the enemy dressed in black, sitting.. with a tea cup? He senses my presence from behind and starts talking,"Greetings my dear hero, Void- AHH"
I shoot all of my ray gun bullets at him. Missed. I hit everything in the room but him and his stupid tea. GREAT! I stumble from the lack of sleep catching up to me.
"Void Wind?" The man questions me, like a fearsome discipline master to a hooligan student, "That. was. RUDE. My monologue! You're supposed to let me finish! There's supposed to be a wait time of a minute before the fight actually starts, you know this! It's the part where I talk and we pose. And how did you miss? I was right in front of you."
I do not care. Hero-villain traditions suck. My life sucks. I wish I wasn't a slave to my hero identity. While he was blabbering, I collect myself. I aim, readying my fighting pose. I teleport and land a power kick on him!
I miss again. Hit the wall instead. "FUCK!" I would swear, if I had a voice.
The man grunted, "Tch, can you stop fooling around and have some tea? We need to talk." He gestures to the seat across him.
I sigh and collapse into the chair. Ahhhh it's so comfy… I drift into sleep-
Slap. OW. I awake to an angry villain. As a knee-jerk reaction, I deliver a punch right in his gut. A punch that landed, but it didn't even knock him back. Urgh, it usually sends him flying across the room! Grrrr, bad luck.
"Listen." He spoke with the seriousness of a SWAT emergency team leader. "First off, your watch's beeping is annoying. Answer the damn call!"
I glanced down at that noise pollutant of a watch. Huh, I thought I'd answered it already. I silenced it by denying the call
"Seriously, Void Wind? I leave you a voicemail with a detailed evil plan, and you didn't even bother to check my location." He huffed in disapproval, "I'm not always in this lair, you know."
I hand him a blank stare. He was right… it's not like me to assume. I am so tired. Absentmindedly, I hold the teacup that villain hands to me, and sip from it.
"Just wearing the mask, and no suit? Lousy hits and gunshots? No hero-villain manners?"
I squirm and say nothing. I sip more tea. Boy, am I glad that I'm mute.
"I suppose that says I'm not worth it, huh."
I shake my head.
"And you do remember that I can read your thoughts, right? Being mute won't help you."
… Oh. Right.
"Wind, do you even know my name?"
His name? Of course I do… I hated it for years, hated it! Been writing it down on paper, and then tearing it up in frustration whenever he escaped from prison. In my mind, despite its fog, I searched for it.
It's… It's… i can't remember… Brain's too foggy.
Think! Think! It's got something to do with darkness. Dark Lord? No.. Night Pickles? No. Moon Boy? NO!
I can't fucking remember! I… I can't…
I break down. Crying. He knows everything about me, but I don't even know his name. I can't take this anymore… A hand pats my shoulder, followed by a comforting voice.
"Hey… it's okay. It's okay. My name's Shadow Snake. You knew that."
The sobs continue. I sink further into the chair.
"Don't worry… I'll let you rest. No more villain stuff for me until your mental health is better. Way better."
I stop, and stare at him. Why?
"It's no fun defeating a sick hero. Just catch some Zs, take a vacation for a few weeks. I'm going to play with my cats." Shadow Snake waltzes off into another room, his voice riddled with glee as he greets his kitties.
There's one thing I do remember: Shadow can't lie. Alone and assured, I finally rest. Ahhhh the chair is so comfy. | "You can't keep doing this, Starseeker. This has to end."
Preclude was seated at the other end of the room behind a solid looking table, unfazed by the door I had just kicked off its hinges halfway to him. No weapons, I noted, but on the table there was a tea set. A fucking tea set.
"You're right. This has to end. It fucking ends now."
I moved towards him, bursts of light blossoming in my vision as I prepared to hamper his retaliation. Now, in this confined space, I had him. There was no getting away. There would be struggle, I figured, he was slippery like that, but here, where I'd had time to bolster myself with the light in the previous chamber and he would not be able to avoid my concussive blasts, I finally had the advantage.
Which is why I was perplexed when he didn't move a muscle, even when I was hurtling towards him at top speed. I dug my heels into the ground to slow and caught myself on the edge of the table to prevent the skinny man from being crushed by my power, before preparing for his retaliation.
A second passed before I realized it wasn't coming. Preclude was still sitting there, just fucking sitting there, tea in hand.
"What's your angle, Preclude. If you let yourself get killed, I gotta say it'd be way worse for you than for me, and it's not like I'd be losing any sleep over your hide."
He took a sip of his tea before responding.
"No angle. I just want to talk".
I raised an eyebrow.
"All those escapes, humiliation after humiliation, and here you are just giving yourself up? I don't believe it."
Preclude sighed.
"I'm not surrendering, but we need to talk. Look, you and I both know your advantage increases the longer I sit here and let my power fade. In 5 minutes I won't be able to predict a single one of your blasts even if you pulled back your arm for a haymaker. And I know you don't need to do that. I'm willing to give you that. Sit".
He was right. I fucking hated it but damnit, he was right. Just like always. This had to be a trap, there's no way it wasn't, but I was so tired of the chase. I took the chair, and against my better judgment took a sip of the tea already waiting for me. I didn't take my eyes off him.
"I really appreciate it, Starseeker", he said. "I know we've had our differences, but I hope you know I've always respected you - from a professional standpoint, of course. That's why I want to tell you that I'm worried about you".
I could have laughed. "Respect? *Respect*? Do you call laughing in my face after tripping me into a sewer grate respect?!"
At that, he had a pained look.
"And I regret that. I admit I went over a line there, but I had my contract to fulfill and you have your job and -"
The fucking gall. My fatigue was quickly washed away by a fresh wave of red hot anger as I smashed the tea cup against the table, rising to my feet.
"Had! Had my job! You know what to call a hero that lets the same shitty fucking mercenary burglar get away over 15 times and gloat about it on national news? Fired! Fucking fired! And here you are, acting like we've got some fucking camaraderie!"
Preclude had jumped to his feet too, but not to flee. He pointed at the remnants of the teacup.
"There! Right there! That's the problem with you! Look, I'm sorry I was an ass about rubbing all of that in your face, I really am, but I didn't get you fired, and your obsession with catching me is not helping you one bit! This" - he gestured wildly at the teacup again - "is what your issue is! You were fired for losing your shit on live television and breaking a reporter's camera. You need to get your shit together, and coming after me is not how to do that!"
I stopped listening. Every slimy word out of his mouth was like a slap across my fucking face. How fucking dare he act like he knows anything about me.
I was done humoring him, time limits be damned. I lunged across the table, letting my power flare out in all directions, and tore straight through him.
There was no resistance. A hologram, continuing to stare at me, affronted. I should've fucking known.
"You needed to hear this from someone, Starseeker. I don't know who you have in your life, but if no one's talked to you about this I figured it would have to be me. Get your shit together."
The hologram disappeared as I smashed the table, continuing the motion so that I let myself fall amidst the wreckage. Hot tears streaked down my face. He was right - there was no one else.
I screamed until I couldn't anymore. | |
[WP] You are a superhero. It has been months since your arch villain has done anything. You think they must be planning something big to finally take over the world. Eventually, you track them down and discover that they've decided to retire from villainy | "What? Loki? You're retiring?"
"Yeah. I've got nothing. No kingdom to lead, no-"
"Loki, I'm your brother."
"Thor, it's not going to work. Everything I had. Gone. Reduced to atoms. What can I do?"
"Remember New York? When you sent aliens through a wormhole? Remember exiling Father to Midgard and then taking the throne for yourself? How are you going to give up? What will you do?"
"Brother, the memories were fun, yes. But, I'm giving up. I'll maybe do birthday parties. Who knows."
"Brother, you know what you're getting yourself into?"
"Yes."
There was a silence.
"So if you're doing birthday parties, what will you call yourself?"
"Reindeer Games."
"The name Stark gave you?"
"Honor his memory."
"Will you dress up in that ridiculous getup still?"
"It's not ridiculous."
"Will you?"
"Probably, yeah."
Another silence.
"Brother, I trust you, then. Enjoy being...whatever you'll do. Make kids happy."
Thor smiled. Loki smiled too, but he started to dissolve.
"Brother?" Thor asked.
​
"Oh brother, you really are dense. Me? Retire?" asked a voice behind him. Thor turned around. Loki was there, smiling slyly and holding a knife. | Flying above the clouds your thermal vision spots the tell-tale heat signature of a hidden base beneath the tree canopy. ‘Finally I have discovered the hideout of my arch nemesis the devilish Doctor Destruction’ you thought to yourself. ‘Time to crash his party and see what world dominating scheme he’s been cooking up this time’. You plummet down from the sky focusing on the building with the most warm bodies.
Crashing through the sky light you imagine in slow motion the glass shattering and dance on the ground as the henchmen retract with fear. You always look forward to the dramatic pose you get to do as you stand up. I hope they fire machine guns at me so I can deflect them that’s my favourite part.
As you stand, arms confidently on your hips, you survey the interior. You instantly notice the lack of any commotion made by your arrival. In the large open space that was usually the epicenter of a world terrorist organisation with teaming supporters manning radar and satellite connectors there was nothing. Instead there were 10 people sitting around a long dinner table staring at you confused.
Spying Dr Destruction at the head of the table.
“Ah ha Dr Destruction have a disturbed your secret criminal meeting?”
“Sigh. No these are my in-laws.” He gets up dabs his mouth with his napkin and walk towards you. He turns to the table “Guys I’m sure you have heard of Captain Astonishing. We eh, used to work together”
“You mean I used to foil all you foolish plans and send you running with your tail between your legs haha!”
“Listen I’ve retired. I met Patty my wife.” He points to the pale and plump middle aged librarian looking woman. She smiles and slowly waves back.
“Love you hun!”
“Love you too sweetie”. They blow kisses.
You recoil.
“I’ve seen you strangle a man just for coughing and now you’re all mushy”
“She really got me to change my life I wasn’t Mr. Destructive I was Mr. Self Destructive. She stood by me but gave me an ultimatum it was her or the world. I choose her. I doubt you’d understand. You’ve never had someone like that”
“Ouch”
“Listen I’m happy, I thought I was happy battling you week in week out. The adrenaline, the high stacks but I was just trying to grasp something that was impossible to obtain. I’ll tell you what, we went antiquing last week and we found this 19th century vase the guy wanted 200 but we got him down to 120. Oh man what a rush he didn’t have a clue what he had”
I don’t know what to say. You feel you knees wobble.
“Can I sit down?”
“Sure” he brings over a chair for you.
“I’m shocked what will I do now”
“I’m sure there are other baddies in your rouge gallery to spar with”
“No they’re all gone”
“The Clown?” “Mental intuition in medical induced coma”
“Shark Man?” “Choked on some plastic in the sea”
“Demo Dude?” “Blow himself up”
“Gravity Guy?” “Crushed by medical debt after our last encounter, that one was kinda my bad”
“The Midas Touch?” “Converted to a Scientologist”
“What about your side kick she must helping out” “She became a Twitch gamer and Instagram Model, she has no time for me let alone crime fighting”
“I’m sorry” he says putting a hand on my shoulder “but aren’t be a bit old for cops and robbers? You can’t hook you whole identity on me anymore. I’ve moved on and you have to too, I hope you realise that”
You nod almost sulking using your cape to wipe away a tear.
“I’ll eh pay for the skylight”
“Thanks buddy that would be nice… perhaps in a few years we can grab a beer and really talk” HE goes in for a hug.
I brush him off “Yeah sure what ever dude” and I blast off back to the cover of clouds mistakenly through another skylight. I maybe faster than a speeding bullet but I couldn’t shake the embarrassment. | |
[WP] A hub connects all of humanity and contains the sum total of known history, information, and media. A neural implant at birth is the ticket in. This also enables telepathic communication, so everyone is able to understand each other. Suddenly, it fails. This hub, known as Babel, is no more. | The Babel Project
It had been thousands of years since it was first switched on.
Babel, named after the biblical tower. Trying to reach godhood and unity.
In the beginning, people weren’t very keen on getting everything in their mind uploaded 24/7, but that took barely a generation to change once people started to realize the possibilities.
Immortality.
Getting uploaded every second means that your mind is intact even after death, and the download means you never forget. Forgetting was forgotten, amnesia was cured. Within 200 years everyone who wasn’t some technology-rejector had the implant.
Soon enough those who had fallen found that they could continue living in the living world if they so chose rather than the infinite games, books, and chat rooms Babel’s systems were full of. They could get a surrogate Android of their choosing to control and use to make a difference in the real world. Those who were smart would download themselves into their surrogates in preparation for the inevitable failure of Babel’s systems.
Once everyone had had the implant, spoken language started to die. Being able to talk to anyone from anywhere made it obsolete. Don’t get me wrong, it lasted long and died slowly, but over the next millennia it was lost to all but the now techless-monks. Written language stayed however, be it in books of history and entertainment written by those who knew Babel wouldn’t last forever, or simply in the form of articles and guides for those that preferred to read.
And that’s why we’re stuck like this today, a species of writing, forgetful mutes in the crossfire of a war between the autonomous monks who hated the technology and the androids trying to bring back Babel and get revenge for the trillions lost in the sabotage. I won’t judge you if you join either of them, but I honestly can’t go on any longer myself.
______________________
r/Jedinate6Writes | Whew. For a second there, I thought I knew everything. Now I’m back to just being a craigular schmuck.
What’s that? What’s this? Stevie, do you know? Angela? Craig? Tom? No? No one else knows what the hell this is?
It’s red, and gently curved. I sniff it. There’s an echo of sweetness, so faint it’s barely detectable. There’s a little twig sticking out of its center, at the point where the curves meet. Gingerly, I stick out my tongue and poke the surface of the object. Sweet. Just as I thought. I think this is food. With great trepidation, I open my mouth, and bring the object closer, closer, closer. I take a bite. Juice dribbles out from the object’s core, spilling onto my cheeks and lips, as I sink my teeth into the sweetness of object, tearing apart the skin with my teeth, chewing the soft, pliable innards, swallowing. Then I remember.
It’s an apple! Oh, Stevie, it’s an apple! Don’t you remember discovering something so simple as an apple for the first time, all on your own? Babel robbed us of that pure and simple joy. Babel robbed us of a lot of things. Our innocence. Our curiosity. Our innate human desire to explore and learn things for ourselves, to store what information we want in our own brains, to not be burdened by the incessant chatter and thoughts of an entire species of assholes and schmucks. Well, no more. No more.
What’s this? What’s that? Oh, now what in the world is this? | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. |
"Shit," you hear before opening your eyes, and for a moment, for a tiny, blissful fraction of a second, you wonder where it's coming from before you realize that, of course, it's your own scratchy voice. A sliver of your mind indulges a wandering thought, creating a hair's width, winding pebbled path for the thought to travel: '*Did I just consciously respond? Did my brain take in information, consider it new, process it, and then direct my vocal chords to dance against the wind in my throat? Or is this all muscle memory at this point? Am I even capable of waking up without my first word being, "shit," anymore?'* You notice that your mind stopped building the meager pebbled path for the thought, and a tinge of sadness edges in. Nowadays, it seems the only solace from the unending slog that is your life is the moments you're able to escape into your daydreams... which you sometimes wonder if that's how you end up in half the jams you get into in the first place. Oh well, be it the chicken or the egg, one thing's for certain: chickens aren't at risk of extinction and everything's continually smothered in chicken shit, so what does it matter which came first, anyway?
With a sigh, you tuck away the pebbles and lazily shake off the morning fog, ready to open your eyes and take in another glorious morning. Your gaze lands on your alarm clock, mockingly blinking 12:00 at you. Not that it matters at this point, but you check the other twelve clocks you have around your room, some battery operated, some solar, some hard-wired. They all mock you with different numeral variations that support the same punchline: All of your alarms last night failed and you're late to work. Surprise.
The morning ritual proceeds like normal. Cold shower and cold, non-perishable food because using electricity or heat more than absolutely necessary usually results in small fires or burnt food. You have this rhythm down. When your apartment's Super comes in for maintenance requests, she always comments on how minimalistic your tastes are, but you know she's just being polite. Truth is, more furniture means more chances to get hurt or break something. How do other people have so many fire hazards in their homes without everything burning up all the time? You're careful not to shake your head so as to avoid throwing your back out, but you think about it. Oh-ho, the things you would do differently if you weren't such a klutz! But this morning, you consider maybe, just maybe, you could go a whole day without something catastrophic happening. Your eyes flick to the chalkboard your dad got for you as a joke when you were a teen - "0 DAYS SINCE LAST ACCIDENT!" and you notice how crisp the black behind chalk still is, since it had never been erased before. It's the one decoration you've added to your entire apartment. Everything else belongs to your roommate, who doesn't have two nickels to rub together. It's a good thing you were able to find this roommate in particular, considering how many previous attempts have been people trying to scam you on Craigslist, or straight up criminals. He's quiet, nice enough, and keeps to himself. Sure, he's geriatric and extremely flatulent, but he pays his part of the rent on time and doesn't break any unreasonable laws that you're aware of, anyway.
You realize the living area seems different, somehow more bare than normal, so you knock softly on his door to ask. The unlocked and slightly open door swings wide under the pressure of your knocking knuckles, and an empty room stares back at you. A note catches your eye. You pick it up, immediately getting a paper cut on your pointer finger.
"My life went to shit after moving here. Dunno what's wrong with the place or whatever, but can't stay any longer. Good luck, mate – you SERIOUSLY need it!"
Cool. | She smiled at me as I walked it, light reflecting brilliantly off her blonde hair. "Welcome in," she said, her voice a cheerful but distinctly "retail" sound. "We sell just about, well, anything."
I returned her smile with a curt nod, anxious to avoid conversation. Most of my relationships had ended in disaster. Two stab wounds, an estranged daughter, and a few restraining orders. The latter were never on me, by some twist of fate.
The shelves held all manner of curiosities. There were your typical tourist items...books, t-shirts, and so forth. A few odd ones too. A monkey's paw, a Jack in the box, a ballerina with the name "μνήμη", and a silver coin labeled "γούρι". I instinctively reached for the ballerina, thinking my daughter might like it for her birthday.
As I touched it, the ballerina spun counter clockwise. In my mind, I felt a prisoner as past events raced about. It was like being a star actor in a drama, but with a sad ending. The ghosts of my past walked, floated, and danced around me.
My past relationships, all jeering at me.
My bank account, empty as my soul.
My squad mates, their lifeblood poured out on abandoned roads in Ramadi.
My nostrils, filled with acrid smoke and desert sand.
My tattered clothes, worn with sweat and riddled with holes.
My daughter's laughter in her mothers arms, as I lost custody. Her unintended happiness in that moment, forever a crack in my heart.
And then, sudden clarity. The music, the chaos, and the cacophony of voices all ceasing at once. My hand lay upon the silver coin. One toss, and it landed tails down.
"Figures," I say, taking it to the counter. The ballerina remained on the shelf, an unfit present. The woman at the counter sent another smile my way, this time, I felt, genuine. "Busy?" she asked. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | One month. That was how long it took for the coincidences to all pay off. Finding twenty dollars on the ground. Using it to buy a lottery ticket, and winning. Investing in stocks and plans that paid off perfectly. And finally, using the vast funds I'd accumulated to outright buy a car and a house (no more debt for me, thank you!). My kid sister got into the college she wanted. My mother's bills were paid. Life was going good for the first time ever.
It didn't matter.
North America continued to gradually turn into a dumpster fire. Europe kept upholding the fine traditions of prejudice and snobbishness. Asia, at this rate, will be subsumed by China, Russia, India, and Muslim extremist groups. Africa continues to suffer issues created in colonial times.
And Australia? They still don't get video game imports on time.
Things were going well for me, and as someone who spent the first thirty-two years of their life suffering, I had a great amount of empathy for all those suffering in the world. I worked hard. I used the money that just kept coming (and coming) to lobby governments and donate to causes. I finished medical school and worked as a first responder, just to give that much more of my time to helping others.
My good luck persisted and I put all I had in saving this horrible world filled with horrible people. But for all that I was lucky, I couldn't change those involved. I couldn't stop the foolish greed. I couldn't stop people from exercising power to do evil simply because they *could.* No one wanted to change. No matter how much more infinitely lucky they are than most people in the world, they refused to try. They called me a virtue signaler. Asked why I worked so hard. Found fault in little things I did, so they could feel better for being on the "right" side. The "just" side. The "good" side. They turned a blind eye to their own faults, so that they could laugh about being "better" than someone who actually **tried** to make things better.
I'm tired. So tired. They call me the luckiest man alive. But you know what?
Luck doesn't matter. | She smiled at me as I walked it, light reflecting brilliantly off her blonde hair. "Welcome in," she said, her voice a cheerful but distinctly "retail" sound. "We sell just about, well, anything."
I returned her smile with a curt nod, anxious to avoid conversation. Most of my relationships had ended in disaster. Two stab wounds, an estranged daughter, and a few restraining orders. The latter were never on me, by some twist of fate.
The shelves held all manner of curiosities. There were your typical tourist items...books, t-shirts, and so forth. A few odd ones too. A monkey's paw, a Jack in the box, a ballerina with the name "μνήμη", and a silver coin labeled "γούρι". I instinctively reached for the ballerina, thinking my daughter might like it for her birthday.
As I touched it, the ballerina spun counter clockwise. In my mind, I felt a prisoner as past events raced about. It was like being a star actor in a drama, but with a sad ending. The ghosts of my past walked, floated, and danced around me.
My past relationships, all jeering at me.
My bank account, empty as my soul.
My squad mates, their lifeblood poured out on abandoned roads in Ramadi.
My nostrils, filled with acrid smoke and desert sand.
My tattered clothes, worn with sweat and riddled with holes.
My daughter's laughter in her mothers arms, as I lost custody. Her unintended happiness in that moment, forever a crack in my heart.
And then, sudden clarity. The music, the chaos, and the cacophony of voices all ceasing at once. My hand lay upon the silver coin. One toss, and it landed tails down.
"Figures," I say, taking it to the counter. The ballerina remained on the shelf, an unfit present. The woman at the counter sent another smile my way, this time, I felt, genuine. "Busy?" she asked. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | My face smacked hard concrete as I slipped on a banana peel. *This is madness* I thought to myself, pinching my nose to stop it from running with blood. *Im in a mall just trying to have a nice time and I slip on the MOST CLICHE thing to slip on!?* I walked into the food court and stuffed a napkin up one nostril to soak up the blood still coming from my throbbing nose.
I gathered the courage to trust a Five Guys employee to make my lunch, despite my awful luck. Big mistake. I swore out loud while spitting out hairs in my fries and shoving the entire meal in the trash.
Groaning, I dragged my helpless self to the window of a store selling bad luck charms. I said out loud to myself, “Screw it, my luck CANT get any worse.” as I practically crawled into the store like a horse with only three legs. I grabbed the largest-ass charm I could find and slapped it on the table. “How much?” I said to the Hispanic lady at the counter. “500 dollar.” Was the reply I got.
I nearly laughed for the first time after thinking, *hell no am I getting this.* Putting the large charm back, I grabbed a tinier, bracelet with a charm on it. “That one 15.” The lady at the counter said as if she knew I was about to ask. She rang up the bracelet and I paid, putting the bracelet on as I walked out.
Almost instantly, I wanted to test my luck. But I didn’t have to. It was already worse. A squad walked into the mall, each carrying an AR-15 in hand. “EVERYONE ON THE GROUND” one of the men shouted. He spotted me and ran over to grab my arm. I didn’t have time to react before he pulled me into an empty store. “Here’s the money,” he said, shoving two duffle bags and a suitcase packed to the brim with money. “What the-“ I wanted to say something, but he was off again.
I just got lucky, I think. I NOW decided to test my luck. I snuck a lottery ticket and scratched it off with a nickel that coincidentally was on the ground next to me. *Holy shit.* I thought to myself.
“I just w-won the... lottery.” | She smiled at me as I walked it, light reflecting brilliantly off her blonde hair. "Welcome in," she said, her voice a cheerful but distinctly "retail" sound. "We sell just about, well, anything."
I returned her smile with a curt nod, anxious to avoid conversation. Most of my relationships had ended in disaster. Two stab wounds, an estranged daughter, and a few restraining orders. The latter were never on me, by some twist of fate.
The shelves held all manner of curiosities. There were your typical tourist items...books, t-shirts, and so forth. A few odd ones too. A monkey's paw, a Jack in the box, a ballerina with the name "μνήμη", and a silver coin labeled "γούρι". I instinctively reached for the ballerina, thinking my daughter might like it for her birthday.
As I touched it, the ballerina spun counter clockwise. In my mind, I felt a prisoner as past events raced about. It was like being a star actor in a drama, but with a sad ending. The ghosts of my past walked, floated, and danced around me.
My past relationships, all jeering at me.
My bank account, empty as my soul.
My squad mates, their lifeblood poured out on abandoned roads in Ramadi.
My nostrils, filled with acrid smoke and desert sand.
My tattered clothes, worn with sweat and riddled with holes.
My daughter's laughter in her mothers arms, as I lost custody. Her unintended happiness in that moment, forever a crack in my heart.
And then, sudden clarity. The music, the chaos, and the cacophony of voices all ceasing at once. My hand lay upon the silver coin. One toss, and it landed tails down.
"Figures," I say, taking it to the counter. The ballerina remained on the shelf, an unfit present. The woman at the counter sent another smile my way, this time, I felt, genuine. "Busy?" she asked. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | [Its been a while since I’ve written and I got carried away, sorry]
Mallory had always been riddled with bad luck for as long as she could remember.
As a child she lost both her parents and grandmother all within the same year, in fact, death was all too common in her entire family. "It’s a curse! That’s all it is, this family is cursed!" that’s the last thing she heard her Great Aunt August scream after she had kicked her out at the age of 17.
Sure, she was incredibly grateful that she took her in and her husband Virgil was one of the kindest people Malory had ever met. But it didn't change the fact that Aunt August was a cold hearted old bitch. Never would she give Malory the time of day, ESPECIALLY after Uncle Virgil started to wither away from cancer. "I can't bare to see him like this!" she protested just before going on 6 month long vacation, and just like that Malory was left to tend to him. She even went as far as to drop out of high school to ensure he wasn't so lonely in that oversized mansion of theirs. But it was no use, Virgil passed, August returned, and Malory got the boot.
All of that was in the past though. Just engaged, five grueling years of schooling and lined up to start her new job, Malory was determined. So how fitting that this beautiful "lucky" necklace caught her eye. She always tried her best to avoid superstition given her past, but hey, a free necklace is a free necklace. Apparently the shops previous owner swung by earlier that day and insisted they gave it away for free. Malory just happened to be the first person to ask about it, because well, it just seemed familiar. Lucky her.
"Excuse me. I think you dropped this."
Malory turned to see a large, toned and handsome man stood behind her with a fifty dollar bill extended.
"Huh? No I don't-" Malory looked up at his face and immediately recognized him.
"Holy shit! You’re the hockey player! Nathan! We love your team, well I mean I don't watch sports all that often but my-"
"Hey hey! Relax, no need to draw a crowd"
He smiles and jesters the fifty dollars forward and Malory takes it.
"Your right, oh my god I'm sorry! Its just so funny, I literally just bought this lucky necklace and here you are as I step outside and your handing me fifty dollars! Which I'm sorry this isn't mine"
She hands it back, he smirks.
"Lucky necklace huh? That’s a new one… Say, I don't know if your in the middle of anything but, we've got fifty dollars, I'm famished, and there's a great spot down the street. I'd love some company."
She can't believe it, the words almost don't come out.
"I, you- yeah! Of course! Definitely! I.." She snaps out of it. Chris, her husband; she didn't say she was engaged. On one hand, she can't, but on the other, she knows him, he would be absolutely psyched if she went out with him. Obviously she wouldn't let it go anywhere at all, but she can't risk it. She pulls out her phone to text him. It's dead.
"Shit..."
"What's that?"
"No I just…"
She debates it for a moment. Nothing will happen, this will be a fantastic story she thinks.
"I guess my luck isn't that great. Phones dead."
They chuckle, and make their way to the restaurant down the street.
------
Buzz Buzz.
"Sweet!" Malory, now back in her car, reaches for her recently plugged in phone. The evening went a lot later then she anticipated but she knows that as annoyed as her husband Chris will be, the story will more then make up for it. Not to mention, free tickets to the next home game! Shortly into the meal she had confessed to Nathan that she was married and not only was he not mad, he thought it was hilarious. So hilarious he offered them seats at their match next Friday. Before she can even look at the phone she managed to get his phone ringing.
"Mal! Are you okay?! I've been calling for hours."
"I'm SO sorry, but you're not going to believe this, I had the best day! I was at the store and there was this necklace and the guy in the shop said-"
"Mal, your Aunt August. She was in an accident… She had Gail , they were going to carnival and they both.. "
He didn't need to finish the sentence. Malory knew, she could hear it in his voice. How many times had she wished terrible things towards her Aunt for what she did to her husband? But she never thought something like this would happen. And with Gail too. She was only seven, her cousin Beth's only child. Malory started sobbing in silence as Chris continued.
".. so Beth is quite a mess given her and August had just started talking again. I'm actually surprised you hadn't heard anything all day, its all over the local news. But I'm glad you had good day, maybe its better you didn't hear until now? … I don't know. I'm so sorry Mal. "
------
Malory and Chris walk through the hallway of her Aunts mansion. Voices can be heard at the end of the hall, it's cousin Beth and Aunt Augusts lawyer.
"Oh Malory, Chris! Thanks for coming." Beth's eyes are swollen, she looks like she hasn't stopped crying for weeks. Malory takes a seat next to her as the lawyer make his way out of the room.
"We'll give you two some time." He pats Chris on the shoulder and gestures, Chris nods and the two exit.
"Beth, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry. I can't even imagine.."
"I always knew Aunt August was a cancer to this family. I knew long before and I should've kept my distance. She just seemed so different this past year. Just the fact that she reached out was strange enough but she was so kind and caring all of a sudden, and Gail.. She had so much love for Gail… I shouldn't have…"
Beth loses her words as she tries to gasp. More tears pouring from her sore and tumid eyes. Malory embraces her.
"It okay. You couldn't have known something like that would happen. August, she was probably ill or something. She never did make much sense, I'm honestly shocked she reached out."
"She left you everything."
"…what?"
Malory pulls back.
"What do you mean, everything?"
"The house, most of the money, her company, It was all she talked about lately. She was so ashamed of how she treated you, how you sacrificed so much for her and Virgil. I don't know, maybe she WAS going crazy or something, she kept saying how she killed your parents.. But your mom, she fell ill didn't she? And your dad… well he.. I'm an idiot, sorry. I shouldn't have brought that up."
Beth hugs Malory and the two continue to cry in silence for a moment. Malory speaks up,
"I just don't understand. August, she was always so distant and cold, I honestly thought she hated me for some reason. I mean, why bother even taking me in? Did she actually think she killed my mom? Is that why? God, she must have really started to lose it. Maybe she always was losing it… honestly it would explain a lot.
Beth squeezes her tight and pauses. She eases back and pulls up the necklace around Malory's neck.
"Weird, I didn't know you had this."
"Oh? I got this the other week in town. Why? What do you mean?"
“That's odd.. It looks just like Aunt August's old necklace. Don't you remember?" | She smiled at me as I walked it, light reflecting brilliantly off her blonde hair. "Welcome in," she said, her voice a cheerful but distinctly "retail" sound. "We sell just about, well, anything."
I returned her smile with a curt nod, anxious to avoid conversation. Most of my relationships had ended in disaster. Two stab wounds, an estranged daughter, and a few restraining orders. The latter were never on me, by some twist of fate.
The shelves held all manner of curiosities. There were your typical tourist items...books, t-shirts, and so forth. A few odd ones too. A monkey's paw, a Jack in the box, a ballerina with the name "μνήμη", and a silver coin labeled "γούρι". I instinctively reached for the ballerina, thinking my daughter might like it for her birthday.
As I touched it, the ballerina spun counter clockwise. In my mind, I felt a prisoner as past events raced about. It was like being a star actor in a drama, but with a sad ending. The ghosts of my past walked, floated, and danced around me.
My past relationships, all jeering at me.
My bank account, empty as my soul.
My squad mates, their lifeblood poured out on abandoned roads in Ramadi.
My nostrils, filled with acrid smoke and desert sand.
My tattered clothes, worn with sweat and riddled with holes.
My daughter's laughter in her mothers arms, as I lost custody. Her unintended happiness in that moment, forever a crack in my heart.
And then, sudden clarity. The music, the chaos, and the cacophony of voices all ceasing at once. My hand lay upon the silver coin. One toss, and it landed tails down.
"Figures," I say, taking it to the counter. The ballerina remained on the shelf, an unfit present. The woman at the counter sent another smile my way, this time, I felt, genuine. "Busy?" she asked. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | I'm pretty sure that the Sigma-3-Lambda server was cursed. Virtually every function it was built to perform appears to be half-assed in it's construction, and it's inhabitants seemingly think we're still actively watching over them for some reason.
Hell, I thought my contribution was airtight; a small modifier stat attached to the inhabitants that, upon certain conditions being met, would use a random number generator to make a situation better or worse for them personally. A little bit of chaos in a world of order. Or, at least, we thought it was order. Honestly, between inhabitants killing each other for the admin's favor, their civilization nearly wiping itself from the server on a near regular basis, and their refusal to learn any mechanics that take more than a century to learn, the entire planet is a chaotic shit-show that's just asking to be deleted.
So, here I am enjoying my day off when I get a message from my boss. Apparently one of the inhabitants from S3L managed to completely break yet ANOTHER system. My system. Which naturally meant that I had to be the one to clean up the mess. It took me a minute to find my login credentials for this server, and now I have to get to- Ah shit.
I forgot that we now have to take strict precautions when dealing with this server. Apparently during a bit of routine maintenance some "writer" managed to get so fucking high he somehow accessed our network, and went a bit insane after encountering the technician. Now, whenever we log in we have to do this whole "Lovecraft Protocol" shit to make ourselves look like one of them. Whatever. It makes interacting with inhabitants easier, I guess. What did the inhabitants call me back when I was active on the server? I think it was "Incognito" or something similar to that. Let's see what their most recent interpenetration of me was... Wait. What? The fuck's a Tom Hiddleston? You know what, fuck it; good enough. I don't care. Let's get this shit over with.
Okay, filter by stats. Luck. Descending order...
Wait, what the shit?
This stat is virtually impossible to boost. It was meant to be incapable of surpassing 15 even if it was absolutely min-maxed in it's favor. How the actual fuck did someone get it to 9999? I can probably patch this up relatively easily, but now I'm actually curious about this. Move to location...
Oh god they're even uglier in person than I remember. And this one's passed out. And, judging by the smell, probably drunk. Looks kinda young. Shame. Alright, let's get this over with. Just going to pause the server for a moment...
\>WAKE THE FUCK UP.
That didn't work. Maybe try kicking it in the ribs? I remember that being effective.
"OH OH GOD WHA- WHAT THE FUCK? Who the- who the fuck d'ya think ya'rr? Wha ya doin in ma aparmen...?"
\>I came to investi-
"Wait, shiiit, Loki? Fuck, I nee to stop drinnin' so harr."
Loki, right. That's it.
\>You did something that caused a sort of problem in your world and I-
"No, you muss be from da gubment. I get ya the money when ya pry't fra ma col deh hans!"
\>Okay, shut the fuck up. You recently became a very lucky man, correct?
"Ye."
\>Did you do anything or buy anything before you noticed a difference?
"Ye, I got Whisper."
Whisper? He said it like a noun. Is that some new drug that they manufactured? It might be a problem...
\>I'm not familiar with this "Whisper." Can you show me what it is?
"Ye, sure Tomm anythin' fo you, man. She's ovah ther."
He's gesturing to a crude structure in the corner of his abode made from wood, rope, and black velvet. I have no idea how that would affect his- Why the fuck did a pair of eyes appear on it?
"A'yup. Thas Whisper, ma gooluck charm. Got 'er as a joke cuz'a ma fam'lee baluck, but she been nuttin buh good fo me. I won the lott'ry after gettin her and I fee bettah than evah!"
His good luck charm is a cat? Wait, it's a black cat! Some other admin made those have a negative modifier attached to them for luck. And if I look at his stats... Yes, he has a -1 to luck from being around this creature. Did it trigger a stack overflow?
\>Hold on for just a moment. I want to try something.
If luck is equal to or less than zero, make equal to zero, and done.
Did it do anything?
"Oh man, I feel like shit..."
And just like that, he runs off to his... bathroom, I think they called it? Let's get a look at his stats now.
Okay, he has a stat luck of zero now. That's almost impressive; that's several generations of min-maxing stats right there. It's kind of a miracle his bloodline didn't end prior to his birth.Well that sucks. He'll be on his own. It's not exactly fair, but it's just how the world is.
Resume temporal flow in server. Begin log-out sequence in 5... 4...- Actually... I might be able to help this poor guy out real quick.
Pause temporal flow in server. Find modifier. Stats. Luck. Black\_Cat. Set from negative one to five.
Begin log-out sequence in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. | She smiled at me as I walked it, light reflecting brilliantly off her blonde hair. "Welcome in," she said, her voice a cheerful but distinctly "retail" sound. "We sell just about, well, anything."
I returned her smile with a curt nod, anxious to avoid conversation. Most of my relationships had ended in disaster. Two stab wounds, an estranged daughter, and a few restraining orders. The latter were never on me, by some twist of fate.
The shelves held all manner of curiosities. There were your typical tourist items...books, t-shirts, and so forth. A few odd ones too. A monkey's paw, a Jack in the box, a ballerina with the name "μνήμη", and a silver coin labeled "γούρι". I instinctively reached for the ballerina, thinking my daughter might like it for her birthday.
As I touched it, the ballerina spun counter clockwise. In my mind, I felt a prisoner as past events raced about. It was like being a star actor in a drama, but with a sad ending. The ghosts of my past walked, floated, and danced around me.
My past relationships, all jeering at me.
My bank account, empty as my soul.
My squad mates, their lifeblood poured out on abandoned roads in Ramadi.
My nostrils, filled with acrid smoke and desert sand.
My tattered clothes, worn with sweat and riddled with holes.
My daughter's laughter in her mothers arms, as I lost custody. Her unintended happiness in that moment, forever a crack in my heart.
And then, sudden clarity. The music, the chaos, and the cacophony of voices all ceasing at once. My hand lay upon the silver coin. One toss, and it landed tails down.
"Figures," I say, taking it to the counter. The ballerina remained on the shelf, an unfit present. The woman at the counter sent another smile my way, this time, I felt, genuine. "Busy?" she asked. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | I'm pretty sure that the Sigma-3-Lambda server was cursed. Virtually every function it was built to perform appears to be half-assed in it's construction, and it's inhabitants seemingly think we're still actively watching over them for some reason.
Hell, I thought my contribution was airtight; a small modifier stat attached to the inhabitants that, upon certain conditions being met, would use a random number generator to make a situation better or worse for them personally. A little bit of chaos in a world of order. Or, at least, we thought it was order. Honestly, between inhabitants killing each other for the admin's favor, their civilization nearly wiping itself from the server on a near regular basis, and their refusal to learn any mechanics that take more than a century to learn, the entire planet is a chaotic shit-show that's just asking to be deleted.
So, here I am enjoying my day off when I get a message from my boss. Apparently one of the inhabitants from S3L managed to completely break yet ANOTHER system. My system. Which naturally meant that I had to be the one to clean up the mess. It took me a minute to find my login credentials for this server, and now I have to get to- Ah shit.
I forgot that we now have to take strict precautions when dealing with this server. Apparently during a bit of routine maintenance some "writer" managed to get so fucking high he somehow accessed our network, and went a bit insane after encountering the technician. Now, whenever we log in we have to do this whole "Lovecraft Protocol" shit to make ourselves look like one of them. Whatever. It makes interacting with inhabitants easier, I guess. What did the inhabitants call me back when I was active on the server? I think it was "Incognito" or something similar to that. Let's see what their most recent interpenetration of me was... Wait. What? The fuck's a Tom Hiddleston? You know what, fuck it; good enough. I don't care. Let's get this shit over with.
Okay, filter by stats. Luck. Descending order...
Wait, what the shit?
This stat is virtually impossible to boost. It was meant to be incapable of surpassing 15 even if it was absolutely min-maxed in it's favor. How the actual fuck did someone get it to 9999? I can probably patch this up relatively easily, but now I'm actually curious about this. Move to location...
Oh god they're even uglier in person than I remember. And this one's passed out. And, judging by the smell, probably drunk. Looks kinda young. Shame. Alright, let's get this over with. Just going to pause the server for a moment...
\>WAKE THE FUCK UP.
That didn't work. Maybe try kicking it in the ribs? I remember that being effective.
"OH OH GOD WHA- WHAT THE FUCK? Who the- who the fuck d'ya think ya'rr? Wha ya doin in ma aparmen...?"
\>I came to investi-
"Wait, shiiit, Loki? Fuck, I nee to stop drinnin' so harr."
Loki, right. That's it.
\>You did something that caused a sort of problem in your world and I-
"No, you muss be from da gubment. I get ya the money when ya pry't fra ma col deh hans!"
\>Okay, shut the fuck up. You recently became a very lucky man, correct?
"Ye."
\>Did you do anything or buy anything before you noticed a difference?
"Ye, I got Whisper."
Whisper? He said it like a noun. Is that some new drug that they manufactured? It might be a problem...
\>I'm not familiar with this "Whisper." Can you show me what it is?
"Ye, sure Tomm anythin' fo you, man. She's ovah ther."
He's gesturing to a crude structure in the corner of his abode made from wood, rope, and black velvet. I have no idea how that would affect his- Why the fuck did a pair of eyes appear on it?
"A'yup. Thas Whisper, ma gooluck charm. Got 'er as a joke cuz'a ma fam'lee baluck, but she been nuttin buh good fo me. I won the lott'ry after gettin her and I fee bettah than evah!"
His good luck charm is a cat? Wait, it's a black cat! Some other admin made those have a negative modifier attached to them for luck. And if I look at his stats... Yes, he has a -1 to luck from being around this creature. Did it trigger a stack overflow?
\>Hold on for just a moment. I want to try something.
If luck is equal to or less than zero, make equal to zero, and done.
Did it do anything?
"Oh man, I feel like shit..."
And just like that, he runs off to his... bathroom, I think they called it? Let's get a look at his stats now.
Okay, he has a stat luck of zero now. That's almost impressive; that's several generations of min-maxing stats right there. It's kind of a miracle his bloodline didn't end prior to his birth.Well that sucks. He'll be on his own. It's not exactly fair, but it's just how the world is.
Resume temporal flow in server. Begin log-out sequence in 5... 4...- Actually... I might be able to help this poor guy out real quick.
Pause temporal flow in server. Find modifier. Stats. Luck. Black\_Cat. Set from negative one to five.
Begin log-out sequence in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1. |
"Shit," you hear before opening your eyes, and for a moment, for a tiny, blissful fraction of a second, you wonder where it's coming from before you realize that, of course, it's your own scratchy voice. A sliver of your mind indulges a wandering thought, creating a hair's width, winding pebbled path for the thought to travel: '*Did I just consciously respond? Did my brain take in information, consider it new, process it, and then direct my vocal chords to dance against the wind in my throat? Or is this all muscle memory at this point? Am I even capable of waking up without my first word being, "shit," anymore?'* You notice that your mind stopped building the meager pebbled path for the thought, and a tinge of sadness edges in. Nowadays, it seems the only solace from the unending slog that is your life is the moments you're able to escape into your daydreams... which you sometimes wonder if that's how you end up in half the jams you get into in the first place. Oh well, be it the chicken or the egg, one thing's for certain: chickens aren't at risk of extinction and everything's continually smothered in chicken shit, so what does it matter which came first, anyway?
With a sigh, you tuck away the pebbles and lazily shake off the morning fog, ready to open your eyes and take in another glorious morning. Your gaze lands on your alarm clock, mockingly blinking 12:00 at you. Not that it matters at this point, but you check the other twelve clocks you have around your room, some battery operated, some solar, some hard-wired. They all mock you with different numeral variations that support the same punchline: All of your alarms last night failed and you're late to work. Surprise.
The morning ritual proceeds like normal. Cold shower and cold, non-perishable food because using electricity or heat more than absolutely necessary usually results in small fires or burnt food. You have this rhythm down. When your apartment's Super comes in for maintenance requests, she always comments on how minimalistic your tastes are, but you know she's just being polite. Truth is, more furniture means more chances to get hurt or break something. How do other people have so many fire hazards in their homes without everything burning up all the time? You're careful not to shake your head so as to avoid throwing your back out, but you think about it. Oh-ho, the things you would do differently if you weren't such a klutz! But this morning, you consider maybe, just maybe, you could go a whole day without something catastrophic happening. Your eyes flick to the chalkboard your dad got for you as a joke when you were a teen - "0 DAYS SINCE LAST ACCIDENT!" and you notice how crisp the black behind chalk still is, since it had never been erased before. It's the one decoration you've added to your entire apartment. Everything else belongs to your roommate, who doesn't have two nickels to rub together. It's a good thing you were able to find this roommate in particular, considering how many previous attempts have been people trying to scam you on Craigslist, or straight up criminals. He's quiet, nice enough, and keeps to himself. Sure, he's geriatric and extremely flatulent, but he pays his part of the rent on time and doesn't break any unreasonable laws that you're aware of, anyway.
You realize the living area seems different, somehow more bare than normal, so you knock softly on his door to ask. The unlocked and slightly open door swings wide under the pressure of your knocking knuckles, and an empty room stares back at you. A note catches your eye. You pick it up, immediately getting a paper cut on your pointer finger.
"My life went to shit after moving here. Dunno what's wrong with the place or whatever, but can't stay any longer. Good luck, mate – you SERIOUSLY need it!"
Cool. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | "The bad luck charm?" The shopkeeper eyed me incredulously in a mixture of what I could only describe as fear and awe. Then, as if her mind has suddenly started moving from one disaster to another, she began explaining the "purchase" process: "I hope you don't mind if I wrap it. I'm not into superstitions ordinarily, but putting it into that window somehow gave me a hang nail. And you look fairly prone to acci..." she trailed off. I think she was paying more attention to me as our talk went on, and I imagine the little details of my appearance had started to hit home.
I could feel her eyes passing over the burn marks on my two-day-old sweater. "The sleeve?" I thought, appreciating her bafflement, "that's nothing." On camp-outs, I am never the one to build a fire -- and for good reason -- but shortly after buying this jacket, my city bus had gotten lost. Yes, lost. Yes, a city bus. It ended up at a national forest campground out of all places, out of gas, on a cold night. Even if I didn't build the fire for myself and my hapless fellow passengers, the little floating embers always have a way of finding me.
The next thing her eyes found was my left pant leg, soaked from just above the knees down to my still-sopping shoe. Her head tilted to examine the trail of muddy water behind me leading out of the shop. "Sorry about that. Also, if you're wondering what happened, I'm not sure about that one myself. I think I stepped in a puddle on the way to the shop, but I don't know how any puddle can be that deep."
At my words, she finally looked at my face, my scars, my scratched eye and my one remaining good one. I lost the bad eye a few years ago, because apparently a bald eagle will very occasionally decide humans look like prey.
"If you don't want to touch the thing," I said, "I can grab it myself. I'm quite accustomed to little accidents." She threw me a pair of keys, which I dropped. As I made my way to the display case, my shoulder brushed against a large antique coat, somehow turning its sharpest, roughest threads into splinters in my neck (basically my only exposed skin). A nearby shelf also cut my hand a little on the way, but the sharp stings from these things were mild on the scale of my regular random accidents. They certainly wouldn't slow me down. I was morbidly curious, you could say. Fascinated at the prospect of finding out just how unlucky a person could get.
A few toppled antiques later, and I grabbed the burned rabbit's foot with markings cut into its fur in several languages -- *kind of fitting,* I thought, *Burned. Scarred. We match* -- and then... nothing. A sense of relief, similar to when background noise suddenly goes quiet. The pain from the thread-fibers in my neck was gone. The feeling of discomfort from the wetness of my shoe were gone. Even the fingernails were suddenly pain-free. That never happened. I always had splinters under my fingernails. I looked in their direction, wondering how this happened, and saw all of my splinters on the floor. Sure, the dark pools of blood under my nails were still there, but somehow the pain was lessened.
I once had a conversation with a cousin of mine where I theorized that perhaps some people feel pain sharper just because of randomness. I don't know a lot about brain science, but surely, a brain that relies on electrical impulses is going to be at the mercy of electrons, which are more probabilities than they are objects. Surely there's a good chance that the neurons' own random activity simulates pain even when there isn't any. And dampens pain as well? I was beginning to wonder, considering the sudden relief.
I glanced at the shopkeeper, and found her staring intently at me. No surprise there. My walk toward the burnt rabbit's foot had been eventful, to say the least. She looked like she was on the edge of action. But it was hard to tell which action.
"Wait!" she yelled, as I raised its leather strap to drop it over my neck. She was too late, about ten feet shy when she stopped, the rabbit foot already in place. *Not superstitious?* I mused, smiling at her, *this lady really believes my luck could burn down the place.*
Seeing the bad luck charm around my neck, Hesitantly, frozen in place, she now simply said, "are you... okay?"
"Yeah, actually, never better. Maybe it was a coincidence you got that hang nail." She was wide-eyed. This whole situation was one she would be relaying to people for weeks, I could tell. None of it added up, after all. "And did you know there was a space heater over here? It's still on, and it's dried off my pants, but it could have been dangerous." How a space heater can dry off a soaked pair of pants, a shoe, and a sock in twenty seconds is something I neither know nor care to find out about.
Then we heard the bell.
The bell over the entrance, that is. It rang again and again as people began filing into the shop. Several people. And then more after that. Clearly she had more than she could handle alone. Her attention was already torn between me and her new influx of customers, but the perfect words hit my mind.
"You're clearly short-staffed for this, and I am recently unemployed," I flicked off the space heater. "But it's quite *fortunate* for you I was here to turn this off and quite *fortunate* for me this space heater was on. Oh, and look," on impulse, I pushed my hand into the coat that had given me fiber splinters earlier. No splinters this time. To the contrary, pulling out the first object I could, I examined my hand, "I just found a vintage coin! It's worth thirty dollars at least."
I walked up to her and placed the thing in her hand. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between me and the customers now wandering her shop, but I could tell I was winning her over. This woman believed pretty heavily in luck, and I was proving myself lucky to a degree that baffled us both.
"I know you probably weren't looking for employees today, and I know I don't even have a resume, but now seems as good a time as any to try your luck."
And she did. I worked ten hours that day, she made enough money to gladly pay me overtime, and the second I got home I fell into the best, most refreshing night of sleep in my life.
---
*UPDATE: (I realized I found the ending kind of dull, so I'm adding this in post)*
"Fast forward through a few more days of that," I told the customer across the counter, "and that brings us here. You asked why the regular shopkeeper isn't working the shop today? It's because the shop is doing so well. She was able to take the day off."
The foot traffic had died down while I answered the question, but it was starting to come back in perfect timing to the end of my story. "I'll have to get back to work pretty soon here, but do you have any other questions?"
The customer handed me a notebook and asked me to rip out a page. Obliging, I found writing revealing itself on the page like a piece of magic parchment in some cartoon. Before I could comprehend what I was looking at, the customer had taken a picture of it, turned, and left the shop.
* STR 15 (12 + 3)
* INT 20 (8 + 12)
* CHA 20 (10 + 10)
* MAG 50 (0 + 50)
* LCK 9999 (0 - 1)
There was a lot to take in. But the first thought that occurred to me when I looked over the page was about the vest I had pulled out of the shop's attic and decided to start wearing today. Admiring it, I mused, "I knew this vest was magic." | The owner of the seedy third and long store gave me a side eyed and hushed brow glance as I turned away from the register.
Something about his grimace along with the curt, few-word responses to my questions about this so-called "unlucky charm" had me on edge. A vibration in my pocket simultaneous with the shops bell as I exited gave me a small start.
"Hello?" I answered the unknown number. 916 code. Out of state.
"Mr. Mandasin?" A voice on the other end asked.
"Yes?" I answered, unsure. The voice was clean and official.
"This is Seargant Wolfren, I am afraid I have some bad news about your wife."
I let the phone fall silently to my side, reaching in to my coat pocket I fumbled for the divorce papers. They were concealed beneath the thick, multi paper court notice. Something strange was going on. I smiled for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | Talis’ day couldn’t get much worse, but that was hardly a first. First, she was ‘let go’ from their job as a courier— under the pretense that the guild didn’t need another delivery girl in their small town. Then, she receives a notice that if she can’t pay last month’s rent, the landlord would have no issue tossing what meager belongings she owns into the street. And that was just this morning, but it was certain the evening would bring further unlucky twists of fate.
Jobless, and with nothing to do, Talis wanders the slums that surround her home. With shed-like houses too close together for horse drawn wagons to safely traverse, walking the dirt streets was the only mode of transport, and Talis is careful not to step on any broken glass littering the road. Her shoes wouldn’t withstand that, and are her last pair. Her toes peek out from the tips, and she sighs to herself. They won’t go any good come winter, but it wasn’t as if she could afford a visit to the cobbler.
Looking around the roads and hastily erected market stalls tells her she wandered further than she mean to, and that she’s in the town’s shopping district. It’s a crowded bazaar of peoples, full of all sorts of wares for sale. Street barkers beckoning shoppers with fat purses, and thieves eyeing the same shoppers from the shadows. It’s noisy, especially this late in the day, when people were getting off of work and filing homewards, many stopping for shopping on the way.
But not Talis. She isn’t a shopper, and her luck is so poor that if she were to become a thief, she would be caught and executed on the spot. Or worse- they would cut off her hands and let her go, a slower but still certain death. She suppresses a shudder and turns down an alleyway, eyes low as not to make contact or appear a target. She walks fast, wanting to go home- if only to pack her things before they’re destroyed, and doesn’t notice a signpost before her.
She looks up just in time to crash her face into the swinging sign, startling her and sending her bouncing onto her behind, hands clutching at her bloody nose, swears flying from her lips as she looks at the offending woodwork. A sign, in neat font reads “Forgotten Treasures,” on the dark sign, white contrasting the swirling nebula of colors. ‘That,’ Talis thinks as she wipes her nose on her sleeve, eyes traveling to the packed window of the store. ‘Wasn’t always here.’
A glint of light catches her eye, and she stands up to look closer. On a dark red pillow, under a hanging lantern, is a necklace. Its simple leather cord contrasts with the fine silver charm lying central to the pillow, a small crow with wings spread in flight, holding onto the cord by its beak. Talis glances at the tag below, in spite of her empty coinpurse. She knows she’d never be able to afford something like that unless it was...
“Free! Bad Luck Charm,” the tag reads in bold letters, earning a wry laugh from the already unlucky woman. A bad luck charm... just like herself, made with the poor fortune to be cursed with bad luck. What foolish jeweler would do that on purpose...? Or perhaps its to be used as a curse for the owner, Talis doesn’t know. It draws her in, though, and she wonders if she could try to sell it off to pay for her rent... “What in the hells... I’ve got nothing to lose.. my luck can’t get any worse.” She scoffs, and enters the mysterious shop.
“Hello...? Hello, I saw the... the free charm in the window? I’d like it, please,” she calls into the room, squinting through a mist of incense and low light. She can see the room is packed with curios of all sorts— ancient bags, elven decanters, stuffed toys... If one of those lanterns fell, this place would burn for days. Talis prays that never happens, and decides not to stick around long.
“Ohoho, got you a rival in need of a curse?” A voice calls from the side, by the window already. Talis screams and turns, eyes searching the dim light for the frail source of that wispy voice, eyes landing on a wizened old woman whose yellowed smile is missing a few teeth. She is small, barely coming up to Talis’ chest, speaking to some havlin ancestry. “I jest, I jest! The charm is yours, girlie. Go on and pick it up, I can’t quite reach,”
Talis, recovered from her scare, gulps at the woman, and steps closer to the window. “I don’t need it for anything like that— but, it- it’s free, right? Hah...”, she asks as she reaches for it, earning a wry chuckle from the old woman, but nothing else. Talis picks up the cord and places the crow charm on her palm. Hissing in discomfort as a jolt of icy cold shoots up her hand and into her chest, she almost drops the charm but for the old woman’s steadying grasp on her hand, closing her hand into a fist on the charm.
When it passes, Talis exhales shakily and the woman smiles even brighter up at her. “I see! Well, well, it’s yours now!” She congratulates, and pats Talis’ shoulder fondly, guiding her to the door as if Talis were the old woman. Talis puts on the necklace, and looks at the charm. A mark on her hand that wasn’t there before draws her attention, and Talis examines her hand. It’s as if the shadow of the charm lingered there, branding her like an omen.
Before she can ask any questions, the old woman gently pushes her out the door and slams it shut, her cackle fading away slowly. When Talis turns to look back, and sees the door has vanished, leaving only a plain wall in its place. The only evidence it ever existed in the first place is the weight of the charm around her neck. “Real witchcraft...?” She asks herself as she tucks the crow under her shirt, stumbling out onto the street proper, dazed.
Talis turns and walks homeward, her feet carrying her forward as her mind wanders. She doesn’t get halfway there until it starts— a fair looking woman from out of town, an adventurer presumably, stops her in her tracks with a bright smile. She says she bought some boots recently, and they just don’t fit right. Would Talis want them? “Yes, please!” She jumps at the opportunity, trying on the shoes right there. They are, luckily, her exact size.
Amazed, Talis thanks the woman profusely, only to be shocked once more. “My party and I just got into town from a quest... we were about to visit the tavern, would you care to join?”, the adventurer asks with a confident smile, earning a confused laugh from Talis. “I- er- what, what did you say? Join- join you?” She asks, blushing deeply herself when the other woman nods.
Talis gratefully accepts, and meets the party at the tavern for drinks- planning on water, or something else free- when the barkeep beckons her over with a smile, his handlebar mustache twitching as he speaks. “There y’ar! It’s yer birthday, ain’t it? Fer ya, free drinks all night!” He declares in a cheerful bellow, getting all the rest of the bar to cheer along. It isn’t even Talis’ birth-month, but who’s going to turn down free drinks?
The night, shocking Talis further, only got better. Amidst the festivities, she drunkenly took place in a round of cards— winning the pot in her first hand. Her rewards were enough to cover rent for the rest of the season. And by the morning, the adventurer, Natalia— Talia for short, is lying bare in Talis’ arms, alongside another of the party, a beautiful elven man whose name Talis couldn’t pronounce in her drunken hours, and now couldn’t remember.
She looks at the mark on her hand, and clutches the charm still around her neck, smiling at the ceiling contently. This bad luck charm must be a dud, because Talis hasn’t had such good luck in all her life. She could get used to this, for certain! | The owner of the seedy third and long store gave me a side eyed and hushed brow glance as I turned away from the register.
Something about his grimace along with the curt, few-word responses to my questions about this so-called "unlucky charm" had me on edge. A vibration in my pocket simultaneous with the shops bell as I exited gave me a small start.
"Hello?" I answered the unknown number. 916 code. Out of state.
"Mr. Mandasin?" A voice on the other end asked.
"Yes?" I answered, unsure. The voice was clean and official.
"This is Seargant Wolfren, I am afraid I have some bad news about your wife."
I let the phone fall silently to my side, reaching in to my coat pocket I fumbled for the divorce papers. They were concealed beneath the thick, multi paper court notice. Something strange was going on. I smiled for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | "The bad luck charm?" The shopkeeper eyed me incredulously in a mixture of what I could only describe as fear and awe. Then, as if her mind has suddenly started moving from one disaster to another, she began explaining the "purchase" process: "I hope you don't mind if I wrap it. I'm not into superstitions ordinarily, but putting it into that window somehow gave me a hang nail. And you look fairly prone to acci..." she trailed off. I think she was paying more attention to me as our talk went on, and I imagine the little details of my appearance had started to hit home.
I could feel her eyes passing over the burn marks on my two-day-old sweater. "The sleeve?" I thought, appreciating her bafflement, "that's nothing." On camp-outs, I am never the one to build a fire -- and for good reason -- but shortly after buying this jacket, my city bus had gotten lost. Yes, lost. Yes, a city bus. It ended up at a national forest campground out of all places, out of gas, on a cold night. Even if I didn't build the fire for myself and my hapless fellow passengers, the little floating embers always have a way of finding me.
The next thing her eyes found was my left pant leg, soaked from just above the knees down to my still-sopping shoe. Her head tilted to examine the trail of muddy water behind me leading out of the shop. "Sorry about that. Also, if you're wondering what happened, I'm not sure about that one myself. I think I stepped in a puddle on the way to the shop, but I don't know how any puddle can be that deep."
At my words, she finally looked at my face, my scars, my scratched eye and my one remaining good one. I lost the bad eye a few years ago, because apparently a bald eagle will very occasionally decide humans look like prey.
"If you don't want to touch the thing," I said, "I can grab it myself. I'm quite accustomed to little accidents." She threw me a pair of keys, which I dropped. As I made my way to the display case, my shoulder brushed against a large antique coat, somehow turning its sharpest, roughest threads into splinters in my neck (basically my only exposed skin). A nearby shelf also cut my hand a little on the way, but the sharp stings from these things were mild on the scale of my regular random accidents. They certainly wouldn't slow me down. I was morbidly curious, you could say. Fascinated at the prospect of finding out just how unlucky a person could get.
A few toppled antiques later, and I grabbed the burned rabbit's foot with markings cut into its fur in several languages -- *kind of fitting,* I thought, *Burned. Scarred. We match* -- and then... nothing. A sense of relief, similar to when background noise suddenly goes quiet. The pain from the thread-fibers in my neck was gone. The feeling of discomfort from the wetness of my shoe were gone. Even the fingernails were suddenly pain-free. That never happened. I always had splinters under my fingernails. I looked in their direction, wondering how this happened, and saw all of my splinters on the floor. Sure, the dark pools of blood under my nails were still there, but somehow the pain was lessened.
I once had a conversation with a cousin of mine where I theorized that perhaps some people feel pain sharper just because of randomness. I don't know a lot about brain science, but surely, a brain that relies on electrical impulses is going to be at the mercy of electrons, which are more probabilities than they are objects. Surely there's a good chance that the neurons' own random activity simulates pain even when there isn't any. And dampens pain as well? I was beginning to wonder, considering the sudden relief.
I glanced at the shopkeeper, and found her staring intently at me. No surprise there. My walk toward the burnt rabbit's foot had been eventful, to say the least. She looked like she was on the edge of action. But it was hard to tell which action.
"Wait!" she yelled, as I raised its leather strap to drop it over my neck. She was too late, about ten feet shy when she stopped, the rabbit foot already in place. *Not superstitious?* I mused, smiling at her, *this lady really believes my luck could burn down the place.*
Seeing the bad luck charm around my neck, Hesitantly, frozen in place, she now simply said, "are you... okay?"
"Yeah, actually, never better. Maybe it was a coincidence you got that hang nail." She was wide-eyed. This whole situation was one she would be relaying to people for weeks, I could tell. None of it added up, after all. "And did you know there was a space heater over here? It's still on, and it's dried off my pants, but it could have been dangerous." How a space heater can dry off a soaked pair of pants, a shoe, and a sock in twenty seconds is something I neither know nor care to find out about.
Then we heard the bell.
The bell over the entrance, that is. It rang again and again as people began filing into the shop. Several people. And then more after that. Clearly she had more than she could handle alone. Her attention was already torn between me and her new influx of customers, but the perfect words hit my mind.
"You're clearly short-staffed for this, and I am recently unemployed," I flicked off the space heater. "But it's quite *fortunate* for you I was here to turn this off and quite *fortunate* for me this space heater was on. Oh, and look," on impulse, I pushed my hand into the coat that had given me fiber splinters earlier. No splinters this time. To the contrary, pulling out the first object I could, I examined my hand, "I just found a vintage coin! It's worth thirty dollars at least."
I walked up to her and placed the thing in her hand. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between me and the customers now wandering her shop, but I could tell I was winning her over. This woman believed pretty heavily in luck, and I was proving myself lucky to a degree that baffled us both.
"I know you probably weren't looking for employees today, and I know I don't even have a resume, but now seems as good a time as any to try your luck."
And she did. I worked ten hours that day, she made enough money to gladly pay me overtime, and the second I got home I fell into the best, most refreshing night of sleep in my life.
---
*UPDATE: (I realized I found the ending kind of dull, so I'm adding this in post)*
"Fast forward through a few more days of that," I told the customer across the counter, "and that brings us here. You asked why the regular shopkeeper isn't working the shop today? It's because the shop is doing so well. She was able to take the day off."
The foot traffic had died down while I answered the question, but it was starting to come back in perfect timing to the end of my story. "I'll have to get back to work pretty soon here, but do you have any other questions?"
The customer handed me a notebook and asked me to rip out a page. Obliging, I found writing revealing itself on the page like a piece of magic parchment in some cartoon. Before I could comprehend what I was looking at, the customer had taken a picture of it, turned, and left the shop.
* STR 15 (12 + 3)
* INT 20 (8 + 12)
* CHA 20 (10 + 10)
* MAG 50 (0 + 50)
* LCK 9999 (0 - 1)
There was a lot to take in. But the first thought that occurred to me when I looked over the page was about the vest I had pulled out of the shop's attic and decided to start wearing today. Admiring it, I mused, "I knew this vest was magic." | The new charm, ugly and unidentifiable, definitely not a rabbit's foot, bounced on his thigh with each cautious step. A flock of gulls soared directly above, and he covered his head with the magazine in his back pocket as a reflex.
When the bombing was over, he was surprised to find the supermodel on the cover void of bird droppings. He fingered the charm at his waist, smiling as he approached a stoplight, not noticing that the birds had turned an idle black Prius white, "Maybe I'm on to something."
At the intersection, he positioned himself in the middle of the crowd of people waiting to cross. He'd found over the years that the best way to avoid getting hit by a bus was to huddle close to strangers who probably had much better luck than him. The human luck shield.
He felt himself lurch forward a bit as someone bumped into him from behind; everyone around him groaned and complained, somebody dropped their drink, covering the shoes of everyone around him with hot instant coffee—his sneakers coming out unscathed.
As the walk-sign illuminated, he stepped out in front with three or four other people, staying right on one man's heels. He laughed as his feet touched down on the curb, *not even a near miss!*
*Boom.* Bodies exploded behind him. A bus came to a screeching halt, the front window veiled with blood and organs. Not one person made it to the curb after him.
"Oh my, God," he moaned, forcing down vomit. His fellow pedestrians entered a fit of hysteria, and his eyes dropped down to his bad-luck-charm. "Oh, no, no, no!" he fumbled around as he unclipped it from his pants, hurling it down the sidewalk.
Almost immediately, one of the gulls circled back and found its usual target, landing a direct hit right to his eyes. He stumbled backwards, falling over the table of a pop-up shop and spilling handcrafted jewelry everywhere.
"Asshole!" the shopkeeper pulled a knife, fury in his eyes. "I'll fucking kill you!"
"Oh, God," on all fours, wiping the bird bomb from his eyes with one hand, reading the ground like braille with the other, he searched for the charm. "Oh, no. Oh, please!"
After tossing aside some very fake feeling jewelry, his fingers found the furry, yet somewhat greasy charm.
"Yes!" he clipped back on and watched his luck change.
Someone in front of him was scooping up the spilled jewelry, obviously trying to assist with the cleanup, but the shopkeeper identified her as his new target, "You steal from me? You bitch!"
The man watched as the knife entered and reentered her neck, hitting an artery and spraying blood on everyone but him.
"OH, NO!"
Someone around him began choking, and a husky woman ran to their aid—giving them a sloppy heimlich maneuver and breaking their spine.
The ambulance responding to the bus accident came in too fast, turning perpendicular to the road, flipping, and parking itself in a shop window.
A news helicopter lost control as the flock of gulls flew into its rotors, crashing into a high-rise, and somehow managing to explode.
The shopkeeper stabbed some more.
The police fired at the shopkeeper, hitting innocent bystanders.
The building that had caught the helicopter began to collapse.
"No!" the man was sobbing in the middle of it all, holding the charm in the palm of his hand. "Oh, fuck it. Let's get it over with."
He chucked the charm into the street.
The shopkeeper stabbed him.
The police shot him.
The building managed to stay upright, and the only rubble to fall fell right on his head.
____
/r/BeagleTales | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | Talis’ day couldn’t get much worse, but that was hardly a first. First, she was ‘let go’ from their job as a courier— under the pretense that the guild didn’t need another delivery girl in their small town. Then, she receives a notice that if she can’t pay last month’s rent, the landlord would have no issue tossing what meager belongings she owns into the street. And that was just this morning, but it was certain the evening would bring further unlucky twists of fate.
Jobless, and with nothing to do, Talis wanders the slums that surround her home. With shed-like houses too close together for horse drawn wagons to safely traverse, walking the dirt streets was the only mode of transport, and Talis is careful not to step on any broken glass littering the road. Her shoes wouldn’t withstand that, and are her last pair. Her toes peek out from the tips, and she sighs to herself. They won’t go any good come winter, but it wasn’t as if she could afford a visit to the cobbler.
Looking around the roads and hastily erected market stalls tells her she wandered further than she mean to, and that she’s in the town’s shopping district. It’s a crowded bazaar of peoples, full of all sorts of wares for sale. Street barkers beckoning shoppers with fat purses, and thieves eyeing the same shoppers from the shadows. It’s noisy, especially this late in the day, when people were getting off of work and filing homewards, many stopping for shopping on the way.
But not Talis. She isn’t a shopper, and her luck is so poor that if she were to become a thief, she would be caught and executed on the spot. Or worse- they would cut off her hands and let her go, a slower but still certain death. She suppresses a shudder and turns down an alleyway, eyes low as not to make contact or appear a target. She walks fast, wanting to go home- if only to pack her things before they’re destroyed, and doesn’t notice a signpost before her.
She looks up just in time to crash her face into the swinging sign, startling her and sending her bouncing onto her behind, hands clutching at her bloody nose, swears flying from her lips as she looks at the offending woodwork. A sign, in neat font reads “Forgotten Treasures,” on the dark sign, white contrasting the swirling nebula of colors. ‘That,’ Talis thinks as she wipes her nose on her sleeve, eyes traveling to the packed window of the store. ‘Wasn’t always here.’
A glint of light catches her eye, and she stands up to look closer. On a dark red pillow, under a hanging lantern, is a necklace. Its simple leather cord contrasts with the fine silver charm lying central to the pillow, a small crow with wings spread in flight, holding onto the cord by its beak. Talis glances at the tag below, in spite of her empty coinpurse. She knows she’d never be able to afford something like that unless it was...
“Free! Bad Luck Charm,” the tag reads in bold letters, earning a wry laugh from the already unlucky woman. A bad luck charm... just like herself, made with the poor fortune to be cursed with bad luck. What foolish jeweler would do that on purpose...? Or perhaps its to be used as a curse for the owner, Talis doesn’t know. It draws her in, though, and she wonders if she could try to sell it off to pay for her rent... “What in the hells... I’ve got nothing to lose.. my luck can’t get any worse.” She scoffs, and enters the mysterious shop.
“Hello...? Hello, I saw the... the free charm in the window? I’d like it, please,” she calls into the room, squinting through a mist of incense and low light. She can see the room is packed with curios of all sorts— ancient bags, elven decanters, stuffed toys... If one of those lanterns fell, this place would burn for days. Talis prays that never happens, and decides not to stick around long.
“Ohoho, got you a rival in need of a curse?” A voice calls from the side, by the window already. Talis screams and turns, eyes searching the dim light for the frail source of that wispy voice, eyes landing on a wizened old woman whose yellowed smile is missing a few teeth. She is small, barely coming up to Talis’ chest, speaking to some havlin ancestry. “I jest, I jest! The charm is yours, girlie. Go on and pick it up, I can’t quite reach,”
Talis, recovered from her scare, gulps at the woman, and steps closer to the window. “I don’t need it for anything like that— but, it- it’s free, right? Hah...”, she asks as she reaches for it, earning a wry chuckle from the old woman, but nothing else. Talis picks up the cord and places the crow charm on her palm. Hissing in discomfort as a jolt of icy cold shoots up her hand and into her chest, she almost drops the charm but for the old woman’s steadying grasp on her hand, closing her hand into a fist on the charm.
When it passes, Talis exhales shakily and the woman smiles even brighter up at her. “I see! Well, well, it’s yours now!” She congratulates, and pats Talis’ shoulder fondly, guiding her to the door as if Talis were the old woman. Talis puts on the necklace, and looks at the charm. A mark on her hand that wasn’t there before draws her attention, and Talis examines her hand. It’s as if the shadow of the charm lingered there, branding her like an omen.
Before she can ask any questions, the old woman gently pushes her out the door and slams it shut, her cackle fading away slowly. When Talis turns to look back, and sees the door has vanished, leaving only a plain wall in its place. The only evidence it ever existed in the first place is the weight of the charm around her neck. “Real witchcraft...?” She asks herself as she tucks the crow under her shirt, stumbling out onto the street proper, dazed.
Talis turns and walks homeward, her feet carrying her forward as her mind wanders. She doesn’t get halfway there until it starts— a fair looking woman from out of town, an adventurer presumably, stops her in her tracks with a bright smile. She says she bought some boots recently, and they just don’t fit right. Would Talis want them? “Yes, please!” She jumps at the opportunity, trying on the shoes right there. They are, luckily, her exact size.
Amazed, Talis thanks the woman profusely, only to be shocked once more. “My party and I just got into town from a quest... we were about to visit the tavern, would you care to join?”, the adventurer asks with a confident smile, earning a confused laugh from Talis. “I- er- what, what did you say? Join- join you?” She asks, blushing deeply herself when the other woman nods.
Talis gratefully accepts, and meets the party at the tavern for drinks- planning on water, or something else free- when the barkeep beckons her over with a smile, his handlebar mustache twitching as he speaks. “There y’ar! It’s yer birthday, ain’t it? Fer ya, free drinks all night!” He declares in a cheerful bellow, getting all the rest of the bar to cheer along. It isn’t even Talis’ birth-month, but who’s going to turn down free drinks?
The night, shocking Talis further, only got better. Amidst the festivities, she drunkenly took place in a round of cards— winning the pot in her first hand. Her rewards were enough to cover rent for the rest of the season. And by the morning, the adventurer, Natalia— Talia for short, is lying bare in Talis’ arms, alongside another of the party, a beautiful elven man whose name Talis couldn’t pronounce in her drunken hours, and now couldn’t remember.
She looks at the mark on her hand, and clutches the charm still around her neck, smiling at the ceiling contently. This bad luck charm must be a dud, because Talis hasn’t had such good luck in all her life. She could get used to this, for certain! | The new charm, ugly and unidentifiable, definitely not a rabbit's foot, bounced on his thigh with each cautious step. A flock of gulls soared directly above, and he covered his head with the magazine in his back pocket as a reflex.
When the bombing was over, he was surprised to find the supermodel on the cover void of bird droppings. He fingered the charm at his waist, smiling as he approached a stoplight, not noticing that the birds had turned an idle black Prius white, "Maybe I'm on to something."
At the intersection, he positioned himself in the middle of the crowd of people waiting to cross. He'd found over the years that the best way to avoid getting hit by a bus was to huddle close to strangers who probably had much better luck than him. The human luck shield.
He felt himself lurch forward a bit as someone bumped into him from behind; everyone around him groaned and complained, somebody dropped their drink, covering the shoes of everyone around him with hot instant coffee—his sneakers coming out unscathed.
As the walk-sign illuminated, he stepped out in front with three or four other people, staying right on one man's heels. He laughed as his feet touched down on the curb, *not even a near miss!*
*Boom.* Bodies exploded behind him. A bus came to a screeching halt, the front window veiled with blood and organs. Not one person made it to the curb after him.
"Oh my, God," he moaned, forcing down vomit. His fellow pedestrians entered a fit of hysteria, and his eyes dropped down to his bad-luck-charm. "Oh, no, no, no!" he fumbled around as he unclipped it from his pants, hurling it down the sidewalk.
Almost immediately, one of the gulls circled back and found its usual target, landing a direct hit right to his eyes. He stumbled backwards, falling over the table of a pop-up shop and spilling handcrafted jewelry everywhere.
"Asshole!" the shopkeeper pulled a knife, fury in his eyes. "I'll fucking kill you!"
"Oh, God," on all fours, wiping the bird bomb from his eyes with one hand, reading the ground like braille with the other, he searched for the charm. "Oh, no. Oh, please!"
After tossing aside some very fake feeling jewelry, his fingers found the furry, yet somewhat greasy charm.
"Yes!" he clipped back on and watched his luck change.
Someone in front of him was scooping up the spilled jewelry, obviously trying to assist with the cleanup, but the shopkeeper identified her as his new target, "You steal from me? You bitch!"
The man watched as the knife entered and reentered her neck, hitting an artery and spraying blood on everyone but him.
"OH, NO!"
Someone around him began choking, and a husky woman ran to their aid—giving them a sloppy heimlich maneuver and breaking their spine.
The ambulance responding to the bus accident came in too fast, turning perpendicular to the road, flipping, and parking itself in a shop window.
A news helicopter lost control as the flock of gulls flew into its rotors, crashing into a high-rise, and somehow managing to explode.
The shopkeeper stabbed some more.
The police fired at the shopkeeper, hitting innocent bystanders.
The building that had caught the helicopter began to collapse.
"No!" the man was sobbing in the middle of it all, holding the charm in the palm of his hand. "Oh, fuck it. Let's get it over with."
He chucked the charm into the street.
The shopkeeper stabbed him.
The police shot him.
The building managed to stay upright, and the only rubble to fall fell right on his head.
____
/r/BeagleTales | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | Talis’ day couldn’t get much worse, but that was hardly a first. First, she was ‘let go’ from their job as a courier— under the pretense that the guild didn’t need another delivery girl in their small town. Then, she receives a notice that if she can’t pay last month’s rent, the landlord would have no issue tossing what meager belongings she owns into the street. And that was just this morning, but it was certain the evening would bring further unlucky twists of fate.
Jobless, and with nothing to do, Talis wanders the slums that surround her home. With shed-like houses too close together for horse drawn wagons to safely traverse, walking the dirt streets was the only mode of transport, and Talis is careful not to step on any broken glass littering the road. Her shoes wouldn’t withstand that, and are her last pair. Her toes peek out from the tips, and she sighs to herself. They won’t go any good come winter, but it wasn’t as if she could afford a visit to the cobbler.
Looking around the roads and hastily erected market stalls tells her she wandered further than she mean to, and that she’s in the town’s shopping district. It’s a crowded bazaar of peoples, full of all sorts of wares for sale. Street barkers beckoning shoppers with fat purses, and thieves eyeing the same shoppers from the shadows. It’s noisy, especially this late in the day, when people were getting off of work and filing homewards, many stopping for shopping on the way.
But not Talis. She isn’t a shopper, and her luck is so poor that if she were to become a thief, she would be caught and executed on the spot. Or worse- they would cut off her hands and let her go, a slower but still certain death. She suppresses a shudder and turns down an alleyway, eyes low as not to make contact or appear a target. She walks fast, wanting to go home- if only to pack her things before they’re destroyed, and doesn’t notice a signpost before her.
She looks up just in time to crash her face into the swinging sign, startling her and sending her bouncing onto her behind, hands clutching at her bloody nose, swears flying from her lips as she looks at the offending woodwork. A sign, in neat font reads “Forgotten Treasures,” on the dark sign, white contrasting the swirling nebula of colors. ‘That,’ Talis thinks as she wipes her nose on her sleeve, eyes traveling to the packed window of the store. ‘Wasn’t always here.’
A glint of light catches her eye, and she stands up to look closer. On a dark red pillow, under a hanging lantern, is a necklace. Its simple leather cord contrasts with the fine silver charm lying central to the pillow, a small crow with wings spread in flight, holding onto the cord by its beak. Talis glances at the tag below, in spite of her empty coinpurse. She knows she’d never be able to afford something like that unless it was...
“Free! Bad Luck Charm,” the tag reads in bold letters, earning a wry laugh from the already unlucky woman. A bad luck charm... just like herself, made with the poor fortune to be cursed with bad luck. What foolish jeweler would do that on purpose...? Or perhaps its to be used as a curse for the owner, Talis doesn’t know. It draws her in, though, and she wonders if she could try to sell it off to pay for her rent... “What in the hells... I’ve got nothing to lose.. my luck can’t get any worse.” She scoffs, and enters the mysterious shop.
“Hello...? Hello, I saw the... the free charm in the window? I’d like it, please,” she calls into the room, squinting through a mist of incense and low light. She can see the room is packed with curios of all sorts— ancient bags, elven decanters, stuffed toys... If one of those lanterns fell, this place would burn for days. Talis prays that never happens, and decides not to stick around long.
“Ohoho, got you a rival in need of a curse?” A voice calls from the side, by the window already. Talis screams and turns, eyes searching the dim light for the frail source of that wispy voice, eyes landing on a wizened old woman whose yellowed smile is missing a few teeth. She is small, barely coming up to Talis’ chest, speaking to some havlin ancestry. “I jest, I jest! The charm is yours, girlie. Go on and pick it up, I can’t quite reach,”
Talis, recovered from her scare, gulps at the woman, and steps closer to the window. “I don’t need it for anything like that— but, it- it’s free, right? Hah...”, she asks as she reaches for it, earning a wry chuckle from the old woman, but nothing else. Talis picks up the cord and places the crow charm on her palm. Hissing in discomfort as a jolt of icy cold shoots up her hand and into her chest, she almost drops the charm but for the old woman’s steadying grasp on her hand, closing her hand into a fist on the charm.
When it passes, Talis exhales shakily and the woman smiles even brighter up at her. “I see! Well, well, it’s yours now!” She congratulates, and pats Talis’ shoulder fondly, guiding her to the door as if Talis were the old woman. Talis puts on the necklace, and looks at the charm. A mark on her hand that wasn’t there before draws her attention, and Talis examines her hand. It’s as if the shadow of the charm lingered there, branding her like an omen.
Before she can ask any questions, the old woman gently pushes her out the door and slams it shut, her cackle fading away slowly. When Talis turns to look back, and sees the door has vanished, leaving only a plain wall in its place. The only evidence it ever existed in the first place is the weight of the charm around her neck. “Real witchcraft...?” She asks herself as she tucks the crow under her shirt, stumbling out onto the street proper, dazed.
Talis turns and walks homeward, her feet carrying her forward as her mind wanders. She doesn’t get halfway there until it starts— a fair looking woman from out of town, an adventurer presumably, stops her in her tracks with a bright smile. She says she bought some boots recently, and they just don’t fit right. Would Talis want them? “Yes, please!” She jumps at the opportunity, trying on the shoes right there. They are, luckily, her exact size.
Amazed, Talis thanks the woman profusely, only to be shocked once more. “My party and I just got into town from a quest... we were about to visit the tavern, would you care to join?”, the adventurer asks with a confident smile, earning a confused laugh from Talis. “I- er- what, what did you say? Join- join you?” She asks, blushing deeply herself when the other woman nods.
Talis gratefully accepts, and meets the party at the tavern for drinks- planning on water, or something else free- when the barkeep beckons her over with a smile, his handlebar mustache twitching as he speaks. “There y’ar! It’s yer birthday, ain’t it? Fer ya, free drinks all night!” He declares in a cheerful bellow, getting all the rest of the bar to cheer along. It isn’t even Talis’ birth-month, but who’s going to turn down free drinks?
The night, shocking Talis further, only got better. Amidst the festivities, she drunkenly took place in a round of cards— winning the pot in her first hand. Her rewards were enough to cover rent for the rest of the season. And by the morning, the adventurer, Natalia— Talia for short, is lying bare in Talis’ arms, alongside another of the party, a beautiful elven man whose name Talis couldn’t pronounce in her drunken hours, and now couldn’t remember.
She looks at the mark on her hand, and clutches the charm still around her neck, smiling at the ceiling contently. This bad luck charm must be a dud, because Talis hasn’t had such good luck in all her life. She could get used to this, for certain! | "The bad luck charm?" The shopkeeper eyed me incredulously in a mixture of what I could only describe as fear and awe. Then, as if her mind has suddenly started moving from one disaster to another, she began explaining the "purchase" process: "I hope you don't mind if I wrap it. I'm not into superstitions ordinarily, but putting it into that window somehow gave me a hang nail. And you look fairly prone to acci..." she trailed off. I think she was paying more attention to me as our talk went on, and I imagine the little details of my appearance had started to hit home.
I could feel her eyes passing over the burn marks on my two-day-old sweater. "The sleeve?" I thought, appreciating her bafflement, "that's nothing." On camp-outs, I am never the one to build a fire -- and for good reason -- but shortly after buying this jacket, my city bus had gotten lost. Yes, lost. Yes, a city bus. It ended up at a national forest campground out of all places, out of gas, on a cold night. Even if I didn't build the fire for myself and my hapless fellow passengers, the little floating embers always have a way of finding me.
The next thing her eyes found was my left pant leg, soaked from just above the knees down to my still-sopping shoe. Her head tilted to examine the trail of muddy water behind me leading out of the shop. "Sorry about that. Also, if you're wondering what happened, I'm not sure about that one myself. I think I stepped in a puddle on the way to the shop, but I don't know how any puddle can be that deep."
At my words, she finally looked at my face, my scars, my scratched eye and my one remaining good one. I lost the bad eye a few years ago, because apparently a bald eagle will very occasionally decide humans look like prey.
"If you don't want to touch the thing," I said, "I can grab it myself. I'm quite accustomed to little accidents." She threw me a pair of keys, which I dropped. As I made my way to the display case, my shoulder brushed against a large antique coat, somehow turning its sharpest, roughest threads into splinters in my neck (basically my only exposed skin). A nearby shelf also cut my hand a little on the way, but the sharp stings from these things were mild on the scale of my regular random accidents. They certainly wouldn't slow me down. I was morbidly curious, you could say. Fascinated at the prospect of finding out just how unlucky a person could get.
A few toppled antiques later, and I grabbed the burned rabbit's foot with markings cut into its fur in several languages -- *kind of fitting,* I thought, *Burned. Scarred. We match* -- and then... nothing. A sense of relief, similar to when background noise suddenly goes quiet. The pain from the thread-fibers in my neck was gone. The feeling of discomfort from the wetness of my shoe were gone. Even the fingernails were suddenly pain-free. That never happened. I always had splinters under my fingernails. I looked in their direction, wondering how this happened, and saw all of my splinters on the floor. Sure, the dark pools of blood under my nails were still there, but somehow the pain was lessened.
I once had a conversation with a cousin of mine where I theorized that perhaps some people feel pain sharper just because of randomness. I don't know a lot about brain science, but surely, a brain that relies on electrical impulses is going to be at the mercy of electrons, which are more probabilities than they are objects. Surely there's a good chance that the neurons' own random activity simulates pain even when there isn't any. And dampens pain as well? I was beginning to wonder, considering the sudden relief.
I glanced at the shopkeeper, and found her staring intently at me. No surprise there. My walk toward the burnt rabbit's foot had been eventful, to say the least. She looked like she was on the edge of action. But it was hard to tell which action.
"Wait!" she yelled, as I raised its leather strap to drop it over my neck. She was too late, about ten feet shy when she stopped, the rabbit foot already in place. *Not superstitious?* I mused, smiling at her, *this lady really believes my luck could burn down the place.*
Seeing the bad luck charm around my neck, Hesitantly, frozen in place, she now simply said, "are you... okay?"
"Yeah, actually, never better. Maybe it was a coincidence you got that hang nail." She was wide-eyed. This whole situation was one she would be relaying to people for weeks, I could tell. None of it added up, after all. "And did you know there was a space heater over here? It's still on, and it's dried off my pants, but it could have been dangerous." How a space heater can dry off a soaked pair of pants, a shoe, and a sock in twenty seconds is something I neither know nor care to find out about.
Then we heard the bell.
The bell over the entrance, that is. It rang again and again as people began filing into the shop. Several people. And then more after that. Clearly she had more than she could handle alone. Her attention was already torn between me and her new influx of customers, but the perfect words hit my mind.
"You're clearly short-staffed for this, and I am recently unemployed," I flicked off the space heater. "But it's quite *fortunate* for you I was here to turn this off and quite *fortunate* for me this space heater was on. Oh, and look," on impulse, I pushed my hand into the coat that had given me fiber splinters earlier. No splinters this time. To the contrary, pulling out the first object I could, I examined my hand, "I just found a vintage coin! It's worth thirty dollars at least."
I walked up to her and placed the thing in her hand. Her eyes kept flicking back and forth between me and the customers now wandering her shop, but I could tell I was winning her over. This woman believed pretty heavily in luck, and I was proving myself lucky to a degree that baffled us both.
"I know you probably weren't looking for employees today, and I know I don't even have a resume, but now seems as good a time as any to try your luck."
And she did. I worked ten hours that day, she made enough money to gladly pay me overtime, and the second I got home I fell into the best, most refreshing night of sleep in my life.
---
*UPDATE: (I realized I found the ending kind of dull, so I'm adding this in post)*
"Fast forward through a few more days of that," I told the customer across the counter, "and that brings us here. You asked why the regular shopkeeper isn't working the shop today? It's because the shop is doing so well. She was able to take the day off."
The foot traffic had died down while I answered the question, but it was starting to come back in perfect timing to the end of my story. "I'll have to get back to work pretty soon here, but do you have any other questions?"
The customer handed me a notebook and asked me to rip out a page. Obliging, I found writing revealing itself on the page like a piece of magic parchment in some cartoon. Before I could comprehend what I was looking at, the customer had taken a picture of it, turned, and left the shop.
* STR 15 (12 + 3)
* INT 20 (8 + 12)
* CHA 20 (10 + 10)
* MAG 50 (0 + 50)
* LCK 9999 (0 - 1)
There was a lot to take in. But the first thought that occurred to me when I looked over the page was about the vest I had pulled out of the shop's attic and decided to start wearing today. Admiring it, I mused, "I knew this vest was magic." | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | Today was one of the worst days of this sad mans life.
Again.
There were times when he wished such a thing could be considered new for him. Luck also had a funny way of defining itself. No matter what happened to him he always managed to be on the cusp of just fine, whether that be, being saved from death, after getting shot, ruining his normal gait forever; or to at worst saving him from suicide. Once or twice he tried such a thing, when you're luck is as bad as his, you have to think that this is what life wants.
Not the case for him..
Having lost any semblance of home, finances, and a life worth living, he could only stare dumbly as this little dinky charm, worth nothing, and the epitome of who he was as a person, stared back at him. Of course life wanted to throw another cruel joke, but maybe this time his luck would finally go so bad, that one of his many accidents would finally stick, *permanently.*
Walking back out from the store, the interior of which looked like some demented and twisted version of a voodoo shop (Horrific, really) he took a cautionary glance to his surroundings. One minute became two and finally five, and the ragged and torn man resigned himself to the fact that he was indeed, at rock bottom.As he was about to drag himself back to the sorry little cove he called a home, underneath that damnably loud and greasy train station, where the rats only gnawed on his flesh occasionally, the man was stopped in his tracks by a gentle hand. (Someone no doubt about to tell him off for being here, and not dead.)
But no, it was a gentle hand that got him to turn and face her, a young woman about in her early 30's well dressed and the picture of perfection, as though she were ripped straight off one of those Vogue magazines that he only had glanced at once or twice when he still had a job. She spoke with an air of professionalism, that seemed warm yet stern. "Excuse me. Would you by chance be a Mr. Van House?"
The use of his name shook him, not because he'd forgotten what it sounded like, but because most people who did were the ones who hurt him the most.. With a bit of hesitance, and only thanks to her appearance and previously kind demeanor did he decide to nod his head in affirmation. The nod was enough it seemed as a pleasant grin broke upon her lips as she sighed and sagged in almost literal relief.
"*Thank God!"* She almost screamed in jubilation, as she did a funny little dance. A second was needed to compose herself, but that didn't stop that smile that had left him befuddled as she began to explain herself.
"*My apologies* for that little outburst, but you see I had spent a very long time looking for you after a benefactor of yours hired me, so I am understandably happy to finally meet you." His brows furrowed as he hoped she was getting to whatever point it was she was trying to make.Pulling out a fancy, eggshell colored business card set in a golden font, with her name laid out for him, as well as the profession of being a lawyer."My name is Lucamine V. Luck, and you my friend, are about to make my career, *and your bank account a whole hell of a lot bigger!"*
(Edit: Cause holy crap a lot people actually liked this and want more. Part 2 is in the reply section and I'll write up a part 3, with a possible Part 4 or 5 depending on how it writes out.) | I wondered, which shitty datatype life must be using to overflow at such a weird and rather low number. But whatever. Maybe it actually does get better for me once.
And so I went to the nearest kiosk and got myself a scratch-off ticket. I scratched and scratched and nothing... "Yeah, as if life would turn around so easily.", I thought to myself while going out of the kiosk.
"Sir, please wait.", the kiosk guy told me just as I was opening the door. "This ticket has another chance of winning, if you lose. You just have to let me enter it into my pc, then I will be able to check, if you won the main price", he explained to me, while I was turning around and going back to the counter. I let him enter the code and then a loud bell wrang. "Sir, you are quite lucky, you hit the big jackpot of over 50 million US dollars!", he shouted in disbelief. I was astonished. Maybe everything willgo for the better now. I asked him, if he could give me the money right now, but then he explained to me, that I have to go to the lottery company itself to pick it up.
So I ordered an uber and went right there, as it was just a 20 minute drive away.
After getting out of the uber, I entered the big building with the logo of the lottery shining brightly on top of it. The first thing I saw, as I went in, was the beautiful receptionist girl sitting there and staring at me. She probably thinking, what this guy suddenly stopping in the entrance of the building is doing. After a short while of standing stunned in place, I went directly to the girl and told her I won the main jackpot of their lottery and I would like to pick up the price.
"Oh, if you have won that, I will have to get the manager. Could you please wait for a minute or two?", she asked me in response. I nodded and she went into the office right behind the reception. So after waiting for a while, a got bored and started getting up from the couch I sat down prior. I wondered what could take them so long, especially since she told him it would only take a short time. Right in that thought a big looking, buff guy came from the office and he asked:
"Are you the winner of the impossible lottery?"
"Yes, I am!", I answered proudly as I was expecting my price.
"Then eat this!", he shouted whilst pointing a gun at my head and pulling the trigger soon after.
But somehow the bullet got stuck in the gun and it exploded because of that.
"That finally proves it, you are a life hacker. But don't think you will get away from me because of this", he said with a hint of panic in his voice.
And before he even completed his sentence, I started running. I ran and ran and after 5 minutes of non-stop running I couldn't see neither the big guy nor the receptionist anymore. So I went into hiding, trying to avoid them.
After some weeks of research I finally figured it out, why these people were so aggressive towards me. Apparently the people from the lottery are some sort of life police. They are responsible to get rid of people, who managed to do things, life didn't intend them to do. For example winning this impossible lottery. It was set up, so it could only be won by a person, who had more luck than a single person ever should have. And as luck wasn't all seeing, I got caught right into that trap.
Knowing all of this, I started a new life. Running away from the life police, relying on my luck to do so and trying to live as comfortable as possible. Till I died they never managed to catch me. But did I have a bad time? Would I do it again? Would I start this life all over? Would I take the bad luck charm again, even knowing what it would cause me?
Sure as hell I would live this rollercoaster of a life again. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | "These are some pretty comfortable shoes. I'll take them!"
Agito left the store with his new pair of old, rugged shoes. He sighed in relief; he could finally walk painlessly. The brand new pair of shoes he was previously wearing had inexplicably produced sharp pieces of plastic that rested against his ankles whenever he wore them. Agito was used to new things breaking on him; that's why he wasn't a fan of shopping. When he saw a store giving stuff away, he couldn't help but check if they had a pair of shoes he could wear for the walk back home.
"They're supposed to make my luck worse, like that's possible", Agito thought to himself. "I just hope I don't run into any monsters on the way home".
A couple of blocks before reaching his house, Agito heard screams. He let his curiosity get the better of him and rushed towards the commotion. He saw some kind of octopus with claws attacking people for seemingly no reason. Before Agito could finish processing that his life was in danger, it was too late. The octopus monster used one of its terrifying tentacle-claws to attack Agito, slashing his eye. Blood combined with tears streamed down Agito's face as he crawled backwards with no idea what to do next. He closed his eyes, almost accepting his fate, but wishing it would be over quickly.
Agito heard the monster screech, but the deafening sound was interrupted by what sounded like a gunshot. Agito, still laying on the ground, opened his eyes to find the monster splattered all over the pavement. Cautious and confused, Agito got back on his feet. People sporidically began to come out of hiding. After a brief pause, they began to cheer. Agito, completely flabbergasted, took a second to look around.
"They think I killed the monster?!", asked Agito to himself.
A small kid approached him with a grin on his face.
"You're a hero! You saved us!", the kid said with complete admiration in his voice.
"What's your name, sir?", the kid asked. Agito was stumped. He had no idea why this was happening or what he was supposed to say.
"Oh, your name is King!", said the kid, pointing at Agito's hat.
"King! King! King! King!", chanted the crowd. Agito just wanted to go home and play videogames.
The next day he got a letter inviting him to join the Hero Association. To this day, people know him as the strongest man on Earth. If only they knew he has no superpowers, just a lot of dumb luck.
Edit: punctuation and spacing. | I wondered, which shitty datatype life must be using to overflow at such a weird and rather low number. But whatever. Maybe it actually does get better for me once.
And so I went to the nearest kiosk and got myself a scratch-off ticket. I scratched and scratched and nothing... "Yeah, as if life would turn around so easily.", I thought to myself while going out of the kiosk.
"Sir, please wait.", the kiosk guy told me just as I was opening the door. "This ticket has another chance of winning, if you lose. You just have to let me enter it into my pc, then I will be able to check, if you won the main price", he explained to me, while I was turning around and going back to the counter. I let him enter the code and then a loud bell wrang. "Sir, you are quite lucky, you hit the big jackpot of over 50 million US dollars!", he shouted in disbelief. I was astonished. Maybe everything willgo for the better now. I asked him, if he could give me the money right now, but then he explained to me, that I have to go to the lottery company itself to pick it up.
So I ordered an uber and went right there, as it was just a 20 minute drive away.
After getting out of the uber, I entered the big building with the logo of the lottery shining brightly on top of it. The first thing I saw, as I went in, was the beautiful receptionist girl sitting there and staring at me. She probably thinking, what this guy suddenly stopping in the entrance of the building is doing. After a short while of standing stunned in place, I went directly to the girl and told her I won the main jackpot of their lottery and I would like to pick up the price.
"Oh, if you have won that, I will have to get the manager. Could you please wait for a minute or two?", she asked me in response. I nodded and she went into the office right behind the reception. So after waiting for a while, a got bored and started getting up from the couch I sat down prior. I wondered what could take them so long, especially since she told him it would only take a short time. Right in that thought a big looking, buff guy came from the office and he asked:
"Are you the winner of the impossible lottery?"
"Yes, I am!", I answered proudly as I was expecting my price.
"Then eat this!", he shouted whilst pointing a gun at my head and pulling the trigger soon after.
But somehow the bullet got stuck in the gun and it exploded because of that.
"That finally proves it, you are a life hacker. But don't think you will get away from me because of this", he said with a hint of panic in his voice.
And before he even completed his sentence, I started running. I ran and ran and after 5 minutes of non-stop running I couldn't see neither the big guy nor the receptionist anymore. So I went into hiding, trying to avoid them.
After some weeks of research I finally figured it out, why these people were so aggressive towards me. Apparently the people from the lottery are some sort of life police. They are responsible to get rid of people, who managed to do things, life didn't intend them to do. For example winning this impossible lottery. It was set up, so it could only be won by a person, who had more luck than a single person ever should have. And as luck wasn't all seeing, I got caught right into that trap.
Knowing all of this, I started a new life. Running away from the life police, relying on my luck to do so and trying to live as comfortable as possible. Till I died they never managed to catch me. But did I have a bad time? Would I do it again? Would I start this life all over? Would I take the bad luck charm again, even knowing what it would cause me?
Sure as hell I would live this rollercoaster of a life again. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | “Honey, we’re out of milk!” Dan said. “I thought you'd picked up some last night?”
“I tried, honey,” Sandra said. “But the kids were being fussy, you know that-“
“They were both at sleepovers. You were playing mah-jong again, weren’t you?”
Sandra had nothing to say, and grabbed her keys.
“You need to think about what kind of precedent you’re setting for our kids,” Dan said in a steely voice.
Sandra turned around, before she could think about it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Turning to games of chance and luck to help pay the bills? Instead of maybe getting a job?”
“We just need a break, Dan. We’re long overdue for it.”
“So you just wait for it? Is that what you want our kids to do, when things get hard? Just wait for life to get easy again?”
\-
Sandra tried to organize her thoughts on the way to the store. There was anger at Dan, and his growing tendency to blame their problems on her. There was outrage that Dan would think she would ever do anything without her kids at the forefront of her mind. And deep down, way below everything else, she knew he was right.
She passed the antique shop. There was always a funny new item up for an “exclusive sale” in the front window.
It was a small wristband, with a skull insignia on the front. *Bad Luck Charm! Give to your worst enemies!*
*What if I gave that to Dan?* Sandra thought, both glumly and gleefully. Then she had another one.
*What if I bought that for myself? What if, for me, luck works the opposite….*
**\-
Sandra had to stare at the numbers for a second time. Then a third time. Then to check the newspaper to make sure they were right.
“I won,” she said calmly to Dan, seeing for the last time his quizzical, skeptical face. “I won!”
\-
The manager had said he recognized her from somewhere. The woman was dressed very fashinonably, and was probably an actress or celebrity of some sort. She had simply laughed when he'd asked.
“Are you looking for something?” he asked. She was dressed way too well for a gas station convenience store.
“Yes,” she said. “I bought something here once, long ago. I’m just…remembering how it happened.”
“What did you buy?” the manager asked, wondering what she would choose to say.
“A lottery ticket. And I won, can you believe that?”
“You were the one who won that huge pot a couple years back?”
“You can keep a secret, right?”
Then the woman took off her sunglasses, and the manager saw more fully the tiredness etched into her face.
“So life must be amazing for you then, right?” he asked.
“Amazing? Well, it’s nice. The kids are all taken care of and in grad school. The husband is out playing golf and doesn’t drink anymore. We get to take a nice long trip in the summer every year. That’s what’s important, you know?”
The manager waited for her to continue.
“But something’s changed, you know?”
“What’s changed?” the manager asked.
Sandra took a second, and then sighed. “The kids slowly turned entitled, spoiled. Then…my husband too. Now I’m not even me, I’m just…”
The manager pressed the button, and the world froze. The television set playing the last game of a playoff sweep paused. The people at the gas pumps outside paused. The cars on the road beyond that paused. Even the sun, halfway over the mountains, paused.
“You are an interesting case, Sandra,” the manager said. “Even when your luck score was at the absolute minimum, your hope and outlook scores were incredibly high. I really admired that about you.”
“Wha-what?”
“No time for questions, Sandra. I must be going soon. But I want you to know that these things you say have changed, they weren’t supposed to happen. You and your family would have found another way, maybe a better way, out of the hole you were in.”
Sandra wanted to ask many questions, but stayed silent.
“But because you stumbled into the glitch you did, everything changed. And that is my fault.”
Then, something odd happened. The manager began to smile, the first real, unfiltered smile Sandra had seen in ages.
“It’s a simple question. Want a do over?”
Sandra couldn’t speak for a second. “Y-yes!”
“Alright. When you go to sleep tonight, you will wake up on that day when everything changed, and nothing will change this time. Now, I must go.”
The manager turned towards the “employees only” door.
“Wait!” Sandra had to say. “Why help me? Please tell me that.”
The manager shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I liked who you were before. You’re lucky like that.”
\-
[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347) | I wondered, which shitty datatype life must be using to overflow at such a weird and rather low number. But whatever. Maybe it actually does get better for me once.
And so I went to the nearest kiosk and got myself a scratch-off ticket. I scratched and scratched and nothing... "Yeah, as if life would turn around so easily.", I thought to myself while going out of the kiosk.
"Sir, please wait.", the kiosk guy told me just as I was opening the door. "This ticket has another chance of winning, if you lose. You just have to let me enter it into my pc, then I will be able to check, if you won the main price", he explained to me, while I was turning around and going back to the counter. I let him enter the code and then a loud bell wrang. "Sir, you are quite lucky, you hit the big jackpot of over 50 million US dollars!", he shouted in disbelief. I was astonished. Maybe everything willgo for the better now. I asked him, if he could give me the money right now, but then he explained to me, that I have to go to the lottery company itself to pick it up.
So I ordered an uber and went right there, as it was just a 20 minute drive away.
After getting out of the uber, I entered the big building with the logo of the lottery shining brightly on top of it. The first thing I saw, as I went in, was the beautiful receptionist girl sitting there and staring at me. She probably thinking, what this guy suddenly stopping in the entrance of the building is doing. After a short while of standing stunned in place, I went directly to the girl and told her I won the main jackpot of their lottery and I would like to pick up the price.
"Oh, if you have won that, I will have to get the manager. Could you please wait for a minute or two?", she asked me in response. I nodded and she went into the office right behind the reception. So after waiting for a while, a got bored and started getting up from the couch I sat down prior. I wondered what could take them so long, especially since she told him it would only take a short time. Right in that thought a big looking, buff guy came from the office and he asked:
"Are you the winner of the impossible lottery?"
"Yes, I am!", I answered proudly as I was expecting my price.
"Then eat this!", he shouted whilst pointing a gun at my head and pulling the trigger soon after.
But somehow the bullet got stuck in the gun and it exploded because of that.
"That finally proves it, you are a life hacker. But don't think you will get away from me because of this", he said with a hint of panic in his voice.
And before he even completed his sentence, I started running. I ran and ran and after 5 minutes of non-stop running I couldn't see neither the big guy nor the receptionist anymore. So I went into hiding, trying to avoid them.
After some weeks of research I finally figured it out, why these people were so aggressive towards me. Apparently the people from the lottery are some sort of life police. They are responsible to get rid of people, who managed to do things, life didn't intend them to do. For example winning this impossible lottery. It was set up, so it could only be won by a person, who had more luck than a single person ever should have. And as luck wasn't all seeing, I got caught right into that trap.
Knowing all of this, I started a new life. Running away from the life police, relying on my luck to do so and trying to live as comfortable as possible. Till I died they never managed to catch me. But did I have a bad time? Would I do it again? Would I start this life all over? Would I take the bad luck charm again, even knowing what it would cause me?
Sure as hell I would live this rollercoaster of a life again. | |
[WP]You've had bad luck your whole life. One day, you see a free item in the window of a curio shop-a bad luck charm. You think, "What the hell? My luck can't get any worse!" And take it. You're right. Life hasn't programmed luck scores to go into negative. Your luck score rolls back from 0 to 9999. | “Honey, we’re out of milk!” Dan said. “I thought you'd picked up some last night?”
“I tried, honey,” Sandra said. “But the kids were being fussy, you know that-“
“They were both at sleepovers. You were playing mah-jong again, weren’t you?”
Sandra had nothing to say, and grabbed her keys.
“You need to think about what kind of precedent you’re setting for our kids,” Dan said in a steely voice.
Sandra turned around, before she could think about it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Turning to games of chance and luck to help pay the bills? Instead of maybe getting a job?”
“We just need a break, Dan. We’re long overdue for it.”
“So you just wait for it? Is that what you want our kids to do, when things get hard? Just wait for life to get easy again?”
\-
Sandra tried to organize her thoughts on the way to the store. There was anger at Dan, and his growing tendency to blame their problems on her. There was outrage that Dan would think she would ever do anything without her kids at the forefront of her mind. And deep down, way below everything else, she knew he was right.
She passed the antique shop. There was always a funny new item up for an “exclusive sale” in the front window.
It was a small wristband, with a skull insignia on the front. *Bad Luck Charm! Give to your worst enemies!*
*What if I gave that to Dan?* Sandra thought, both glumly and gleefully. Then she had another one.
*What if I bought that for myself? What if, for me, luck works the opposite….*
**\-
Sandra had to stare at the numbers for a second time. Then a third time. Then to check the newspaper to make sure they were right.
“I won,” she said calmly to Dan, seeing for the last time his quizzical, skeptical face. “I won!”
\-
The manager had said he recognized her from somewhere. The woman was dressed very fashinonably, and was probably an actress or celebrity of some sort. She had simply laughed when he'd asked.
“Are you looking for something?” he asked. She was dressed way too well for a gas station convenience store.
“Yes,” she said. “I bought something here once, long ago. I’m just…remembering how it happened.”
“What did you buy?” the manager asked, wondering what she would choose to say.
“A lottery ticket. And I won, can you believe that?”
“You were the one who won that huge pot a couple years back?”
“You can keep a secret, right?”
Then the woman took off her sunglasses, and the manager saw more fully the tiredness etched into her face.
“So life must be amazing for you then, right?” he asked.
“Amazing? Well, it’s nice. The kids are all taken care of and in grad school. The husband is out playing golf and doesn’t drink anymore. We get to take a nice long trip in the summer every year. That’s what’s important, you know?”
The manager waited for her to continue.
“But something’s changed, you know?”
“What’s changed?” the manager asked.
Sandra took a second, and then sighed. “The kids slowly turned entitled, spoiled. Then…my husband too. Now I’m not even me, I’m just…”
The manager pressed the button, and the world froze. The television set playing the last game of a playoff sweep paused. The people at the gas pumps outside paused. The cars on the road beyond that paused. Even the sun, halfway over the mountains, paused.
“You are an interesting case, Sandra,” the manager said. “Even when your luck score was at the absolute minimum, your hope and outlook scores were incredibly high. I really admired that about you.”
“Wha-what?”
“No time for questions, Sandra. I must be going soon. But I want you to know that these things you say have changed, they weren’t supposed to happen. You and your family would have found another way, maybe a better way, out of the hole you were in.”
Sandra wanted to ask many questions, but stayed silent.
“But because you stumbled into the glitch you did, everything changed. And that is my fault.”
Then, something odd happened. The manager began to smile, the first real, unfiltered smile Sandra had seen in ages.
“It’s a simple question. Want a do over?”
Sandra couldn’t speak for a second. “Y-yes!”
“Alright. When you go to sleep tonight, you will wake up on that day when everything changed, and nothing will change this time. Now, I must go.”
The manager turned towards the “employees only” door.
“Wait!” Sandra had to say. “Why help me? Please tell me that.”
The manager shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I liked who you were before. You’re lucky like that.”
\-
[r/penguin347](https://reddit.com/r/penguin347) | "These are some pretty comfortable shoes. I'll take them!"
Agito left the store with his new pair of old, rugged shoes. He sighed in relief; he could finally walk painlessly. The brand new pair of shoes he was previously wearing had inexplicably produced sharp pieces of plastic that rested against his ankles whenever he wore them. Agito was used to new things breaking on him; that's why he wasn't a fan of shopping. When he saw a store giving stuff away, he couldn't help but check if they had a pair of shoes he could wear for the walk back home.
"They're supposed to make my luck worse, like that's possible", Agito thought to himself. "I just hope I don't run into any monsters on the way home".
A couple of blocks before reaching his house, Agito heard screams. He let his curiosity get the better of him and rushed towards the commotion. He saw some kind of octopus with claws attacking people for seemingly no reason. Before Agito could finish processing that his life was in danger, it was too late. The octopus monster used one of its terrifying tentacle-claws to attack Agito, slashing his eye. Blood combined with tears streamed down Agito's face as he crawled backwards with no idea what to do next. He closed his eyes, almost accepting his fate, but wishing it would be over quickly.
Agito heard the monster screech, but the deafening sound was interrupted by what sounded like a gunshot. Agito, still laying on the ground, opened his eyes to find the monster splattered all over the pavement. Cautious and confused, Agito got back on his feet. People sporidically began to come out of hiding. After a brief pause, they began to cheer. Agito, completely flabbergasted, took a second to look around.
"They think I killed the monster?!", asked Agito to himself.
A small kid approached him with a grin on his face.
"You're a hero! You saved us!", the kid said with complete admiration in his voice.
"What's your name, sir?", the kid asked. Agito was stumped. He had no idea why this was happening or what he was supposed to say.
"Oh, your name is King!", said the kid, pointing at Agito's hat.
"King! King! King! King!", chanted the crowd. Agito just wanted to go home and play videogames.
The next day he got a letter inviting him to join the Hero Association. To this day, people know him as the strongest man on Earth. If only they knew he has no superpowers, just a lot of dumb luck.
Edit: punctuation and spacing. | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | I walk down the street, the same street I've walked down about 100 other times. I mess with lights a bit and laugh at the reactions of commoners as they get confused. I move around their stuff with a quick flick of the wrist, I silently giggle to myself as they try to find out what's going on.
Something catches my eye as I walk. I've walked down this street so many times and know where everything is, but this was something new. No one else glanced over at it. People made strange faces at me as I stared at it. Almost as if they couldn't see it. I read over at the paper. It had a picture of a wizard on the paper. At a second glance I realized that the picture was of me in different clothes. There were words written at the bottom.
**New Mageton Academy. Accepting new wizards now.**
Could this be what I was looking for all this time? I had finally found somewhere for people like me. I glanced over my shoulder. A kind looking girl was staring at the paper as well.
"You see it too?" I asked. She looked startled at the question.
"Can other people not?" She questioned.
I thought about what she said and remembered when I had first discovered my powers. It occurred to me that she had not yet known about her powers.
I put on a soft smile. "If you want I can teach you about this all. I think you'd make a great mage." She looked confused. I could tell she somewhat believed me though.
**4 years later.**
I wake up in bed next to my wife. I recall the time when we met 4 years ago. She had become such a great mage it seemed like she had known it all her life. | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | Edit: My first language is not English so brace thou selves.
The bell ring and finally all I have left was to present the un-healed blue lizard to the Hig-Elf teacher in the front seat.
“That was the bell little ones, the instructions for todays period are over, verily.
As always please put thou projects back the ricolla-basket and allow thou steps to come home again, we shall see each other in the next sun.”-She call fully of patience and joy between her 2 long ear. Her fully solid of a single green color making impossible to confirm that she was looking at me at the moment.
Despite that, I still could feel her over me.
The little children that didn’t really have even half my age, walk along the illuminated path in the floor and past beyond the curtains that separate this classroom pocket dimension from the main building of white stones.
I know that for the next class, invocation, I was more than prepare for any sufficiency test in the end of the year. I didn´t fear Mr. Arrav-Na. I didn’t fear Nerta the Dragon Queen. I didn’t even fear THE END. And yet… I feel my heart rush as Mrs Toka stood right next to me,
With her big pointy traditional hat and her pinky skin, she was astonishing beautiful and a testimony of her birth from a powerful magical family, form a powerful magical people.
In all truth, a magical creature, that will not fall soon to the eternal slumber.
Not like this fragile old body of mine…
“…May thou hearth fred not Lord Tacha-ka, for if anything is easy in this world, hurting is easy and healing is not”-Chant the god Mrs.
\-“It is not that I’m afraid of failing this year child, it’s just that it’s so difficult for me to be in here, learning magic like is some sort of game without consequence… Even a caged Dragon can forget how to fly once enough time has past.
I never even got the change to learn how to fly in the first place…”-I explain to the elf behind a mask of security and reassurance that only accented my old face and sad eyes.
\-“Lord Tacha-ka, you were a summoned slave from other worlds, bring only here to work the mines of the vile queen of dragons and her goons.
When you and thou friend escaped the mines and end up in the cave of the True Description, it were the Lords all mighty the guided thou to becoming a powerful fighter.
Fighter’s fight, not they heal wounded.”-She begging to explain once again, trying to hold my black hand between her fingers.
I quickly move away -“I could have been more if I only have waited a little longer, could actually save her… If I have only stayed a little bit more and actually know how to save a life instead of just being good at taking them.”-I answered, now not fully in the realm of reality. More alike floating in the sea of memory.
\-“¡Please don’t say such things like that¡, my village was actually saved because its was thou and the mighty 4 that saved my mother and my mother’s mother that day.
I wouldn’t bee in here without thou”-She cry explaining her story, a little bit of blue tears appearing in her eyes.
\-“I only ever wanted to become the most strong mage in the world; I never truly became aware that a person, a mage can be so much more.
I was unstoppable by any enemy, and yet I lost a family because my short sighting.
I think it’s only fair that I die from old age, maybe my story could teach others in the future to take care of themselves as well as they take care of the equipment and clothes.
I join the school of Dawn because healing magic was the specialty, and even I cannot learn the most basic spells that can actually save any one.
Thank you child, but I think that I need some rest now, walking the halls of this beautiful place seem to be fit for a alien of half a century like me.” – I rise from the seat hearing my back cracking again as it had done since a decade prior.
I smile at her.
She looks so young, yet I bet she can be nearly my age, and she will still be in here long after the earth as reclaimed my body.
How much the powerfull fall the queen once pray.
It hurt to be one in mind with her…
Then she grabs my hand.
\-“Please lord Tacha-ka, I beg thou, calm thy step and listen to me.
I have teach many children in this school, but I think I have make a mistake trying to teach you from the bottom.
You need another approach, but It’s not impossible.
Not more difficult than to save the real of Tryria from the dragon Queen.
Thou think that you have lost your family, but thou has gain so much more. I will not succed this encounter yet.
I will teach you personally, not a grave but a full new beginning. Please Lord Tacha-ka. Don’t give up on this friendship yet, as I have never lost faith in thou”
I smile at her –“Then Pray tell, young master of life” | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "Show us what you can do, then."
“Fine,” I snapped.
So they didn’t believe me when I said I was one of the most powerful mages in the world.
They’d set me the task of performing silly little spells, of the sort I had no idea how to do and had no use for.
Things that had no power.
Things that any self-righteous powerful mage would delegate to lesser magicians.
Housework spells, spells for smelling weather, spells for conjuring flimsy illusions …
Pffft.
I mentally shook myself and got ready. As a powerful mage, intent and clarity of mind mattered. Distraction would do me no favours, especially not here, in front of these weak academic wizards.
Slowly I drew the power into my body, the familiar feeling singing through my bones and muscles. I shifted my weight, drew back my fist which was wreathed in magic, shaped into a point … and drove it into the tree trunk.
The tree didn’t just split, it exploded. The wizards screamed and ducked, throwing up deflective shields as the shards flew past. I, of course, did not duck. I stood proud, as the sharp wood pieces failed to penetrate my body thanks to the coat of power I had applied.
“Have I demonstrated my power?” I said to the academics as I brushed the debris off my shoulders. They only gaped at the wreckage of the tree, heedless of the leaves now getting entangled in their hair.
The headmaster was the first to recover. “Errr … that was impressive, I admit. But can you do anything else?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” I said again.
I redirected most of the power to my legs, crouched … and jumped. Higher and higher I rose into the air. Up, up. Past the tallest spire of the academic institution. For a moment I was weightless. Then I was falling.
Falling! This never failed to thrill me, no matter how many times I did it. I refocused my power to be that of a softer, more absorptive nature, readying myself for the landing –
#**BOOOOM**
As the dust cleared, I looked up from the kneeling position I crouched in. Around me was an earthen wall, curving upwards and rimmed by a perfectly circular edge. For a few moments I waited for heads to start peeking over the edge, but none came.
As I climbed out of the crater, I saw the pitiable fools still trying to recover from the awesome display of my power. Many had fallen to the ground; I saw one or two trying to pick themselves up. Others were just tottering around. I looked at the building of the school some distance away; many of the ground-floor windows had shattered.
“Er – I can pay for the windows?” I offered.
The wizards stared at me. Then they started pulling out their wands, staffs, spellbooks –
Attack! They were attacking me!
The cowardly wizards were shooting spells at me.
I threw up a wall of power, blocking the spells, and pushed out most of the rest of my power in a diffuse globe around me, including inside the ground. I left just enough power as a thin coating on my body.
I watched them, these wizards, as they tried to batter down my wall. Yawn.
I could do this all day if I had to. I did so once when I brought down the Terror of Woodheim, a dark mage who’d preyed on the poor innocent villagers with his dark spells. Until he’d tired himself out on me and I put him out with a punch.
There! My head whipped around as one wizard teleported behind me, hoping to catch me out.
“Not so fast,” I muttered, as I clicked my fingers. The pocket of diffuse haze of power around the poor sucker solidified, becoming a barrier as immutable as my first main wall, trapping him. He could not send any spells because number one, he couldn’t speak as his jaw was clamped shut, number two, any spell he’d pull off would go nowhere except his own body as the barrier pressed against his clothes and skin, and number three, he couldn’t move.
Another wizard got the bright idea to use a digging spell and catch me underneath my feet, but that didn’t work, either. I left him trapped underneath the soil and focused on my wall. It pushed outward, towards the remaining gaggle of wizards.
“Time to end this,” I said.
The wall curved inwards, sweeping up the sorry gaggle of wizards and throwing them against one another into a spherical prison. The barrage of spells immediately stopped as these dunces had enough sense to not damage one another through friendly fire. Pity.
“Well, I came here to see if I could learn something,” I declared, looking up at them inside the globe I was floating several metres above the ground. They stared back.
“Apparently not. I’d heard that this school was the best one for miles around. I suppose I’ll go look for another school …”
Suddenly withdrawing my power into myself, the sphere disappeared, sending the screaming wizards tumbling back to earth.
I leapt up, and fashioning my power into two planes like wings to either side of my torso, flew away. | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | It was casting class. Super easy, or so everyone else walking down the path to the shoreline said. I hadn't made any friends yet, and judging by the looks everyone kept giving me, I knew I wasn't going to change that any time soon. Everyone knew I was the only one in the entire school that didn't have to take the entry exam to get in, and I could tell they resented me for it. I know I'm special, but they just see a regular guy who took a spot that could have gone to someone more talented.
​
Not just the students; outside of the high mage lord and a janitor, I couldn't find a soul on the entire campus that would willingly associate with me. Every single mentor in the school gave me boldfaced sneers when they saw me, and made sure to ask me the hardest questions. We're only two weeks in, how am I supposed to know how to conjure a second level djinn? As for my fellow student body? The upper class bullied me every chance they had (which was a lot, considering most teachers turned around when they saw it going on), the juniors followed the upper class, and my peers were just trying to fit in so they avoided me whenever possible. I at least had friends back home; here I was a pariah. My parents sent me here because I nearly destroyed our small town. And because I had potential, but mostly because of the black hole that sucked in half of the community. To be fair, I did return most of the people to this dimension, but they held a grudge. The subsequent earthquake I caused while trying to stop the aforementioned gravity well probably added to their ill will.
​
Either way, here I am bumping into the student in front of me because I'm thinking of this, which grants me a swift kick in my shin. The mentor hears the commotion and turns IMMEDIATELY to me. "Since you want to create a commotion, maybe you should be the first to create a hydrosphere?" The mentor gestured with his skinny, jaundiced fingers to the ocean in front of us as he asked the question, then stepped back with the students and grinned his jaundiced teeth at me. It was clear I was getting no further instruction, so I stepped up to the waterline and began to concentrate. I sucked at the magic classes so far, but I was passing English with flying colors, so I knew I was supposed to be making a ball of water.
​
Here's the thing though.... I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing to get this water all balled up. My back home Black Hole? Total accident, happened because I was digging a literal hole to fill with cement (summer employment) and got distracted. I didn't do any hand wavy thing; I had nothing to channel magic power into. I breathed deeply and did my best Spirit Bomb pose (DBZ best anime ever magic battle me if you disagree) and tried to will every image of a ball into my brain. I thought of a basketball going straight through the net, I imagined fire hoses on full spray with no one manning them. I mentally watched 100,000 ice cubes melt in a time lapse on a YouView video ~~suck it copyright laws~~ and flow into a transparent watermelon. I dreamt up hot breath on my neck, telling me to move my worthless body out of the way so someone with talent could actually take this opportunity to learn something, instead of sleeping while standing. Wait wha- I open my eyes and turn to find the mentor right behind me.
Now, hear me out. I. WAS. NOT. PREPARED. the sight of this man in his ragged cloak. The brief moistness of his mouth breath on my ear as I was turning. the faintest hint of homeless man, and not like I don't want to be homeless homeless. This was a whiff of comfort in despondence; a person who panhandles too fast to collect change because they know they're not worth the money. The blatant invasion of my personal space, and the fact that he was like a wizard ninja, because I did not hear him come up behind me. I say all of this to let you know when I jumped back and summoned The Lightning from the sky that touched down before I did, it was by mistake.
​
To his credit, the mentor (I really should learn his name) saved his astonishment for later, and had immediately put up shield to defend himself. Can't say how he knew what to defend against when I didn't know I was throwing it, but hey; this is why he's the teacher and I'm the student right? Only his shield wasn't strong enough I guess because the lightning hit, rebounded into the sky, and redoubled its force and completely shattered the shield. I'm talking energy flecks flew everywhere. The Lightning had given up speed for its newfound strength, so it wasn't moving as quickly as it initially was. He switched from defense to not-really-offense, and summoned the sand at his feet (also gnarled and in need of a pedicure. He was wearing a pair of What Are THOSE? so i could tell) to act as some kind of conductor, and guided the lightning back up into the sky. It shook off the sand , then went for my classmates. Some of them created basic shields, which may have worked, considering the fact that they were overlapping each other. We never got to find out, because the sand beat the lightning and absorbed the blow, exploding into dust in the air. The Lightning went through an anthropomorphic phase, then stood in the air as a human shape with a sword and reared back, in ready mode but not attacking.
​
Now, I'm watching this occur just like everyone else in the class, and for some reason everyone starts looking at me for this to stop. The mentor, who I'm going to call Frank the magician for clarity's sake, is breathing a little harder than he was before, and is glancing back and forth from the obvious enemy in front of him to me. "Would you bloody well do something to stop this?!!?" I look at him like he grew another face on his face that was even uglier than his original one. "I didn't really do this on purpose; not sure how to stop something I didn't know I could start. Maybe some instruction?" Frank the magician took enough time to give me his best idiotstudentwhyareyouhere glare, then created a phalanx shield out of the still whirling debris while speaking with a calmness that wasn't there a second ago. "This is what is known as a projection. It can be made of any natural element, and will serve your subconscious desires. Subconsciously, you want to kill me, so it is acting on your behalf."
​
"Nah Frank, you got the wrong idea. I don't want to kill you!" There was an extremely uncomfortable silence that only grew when I realized I called Frank the magician by his given (to him by me) name. During that time, The Lightning seemed to look around at everyone, then put away his sword, shrunk to the height of my knee , and walked to stand at my side. Guess it was mine after all.
​
Frank the magician got his breathing under control, then dispersed the shield . He slowly approached me, warily watching The Lightning. He came within a few feet and stopped. "You shall address me as High Caster Ieitherius. Next time your projection attacks, you must calm your will, and decide your intent. This will help with your control over it."
"What do you mean next time?" At this point I'm confused again. "Doesn't it go away after a couple hours, like Ziyagra?" The disgust on his face was clear, but was mixed with a new look I had only seen in the faces of my friends back home. It's like when they believe in you, and can see you doing great things? I could see some of that in Ieieiei--Frank the magician's face.
​
"You shall report to High Projectioner Thimaeus (that's Clark) for classes on control with the senior students. You cannot attend classes until you have mastered your relationship; that projection will stay with you for life, whichever one ends first. I will work out a schedule where you will take private lessons with the other mentors to continue your learning."
"So wait, I'm not in trouble?" The Lightning looked up at me, then back to Frank the magician. "Your talent is apparent. As a mentor, I must teach you how to utilize your skill in a manner befitting a magician. Class is over," He said as he turned and walked back to the path leading to the campus. | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "Powers the size of a Galaxy. Every spell a strategic nuclear weapon."
That's me, in a nutshell. Sure, I can toast bread, for the entire country, every loaf, even when they're frozen — nice golden brown on every one. Ah, I see you remember. Sorry about that, I only wanted to toast *my* bread, and not all of that.
If it weren't for the fact that I like people and toast, I could cast that spell all… day… long… I wouldn't even scratch the surface of my reserves.
Now, I'd like you to imagine what would happen to the world we *all* live in, if some government got their hands on me, and found a way to coerce me.
Do you want an entire country turned into burnt crunchy bits? It'll take me a map and two seconds.
How do I know? I wanted to thaw some land for a friend. He was going to have to dig it up for an emergency pipe repair, using heavy equipment since the ground was too hard for hand tools. Based on the energy to bring the silica in the soil to a temperature where it wasn't quite liquid, but was still hot enough to fuse? Yeah. I did the math. Two seconds.
Now he can use hand tools, and a shop vac, but he's going to need to re-sod his entire front lawn and replace the melted siding on that side of the house. It even made his windows sag. Good thing he had that infrared reflective coating. The radiance would have ignited his furniture.
I can do the same damn thing to every country in the world, in less than half a day, without using more than half my mana. I'll be fully recharged in four hours.
I need a way to control the amount of mana flowing into the spell. Two ways. Reduce the rate, or chop the time. I can't figure out how to reduce the rate, so I've focused on cutting the time as small as I can. It's not enough.
"My Lady, I'm surprised you haven't blown the world to smithereens, or yourself for that matter."
"Chancellor, who says I haven't?
The world? Five times and brought it back so smoothly that no one even noticed.
Myself? This is my 94,737th body. I did a *lot* of experiments."
"Have you considered becoming a deity?"
"My one attempt at creating life caused one of the world destruction events. I have to have control first.
Not that I'd consider godhood anyway, worshipers are annoying…
Oops…
World destruction #1."
"I'm not sure we can help, but I think we have to try."
…—…
"Who is that lady that all the instructors are so deferential to?"
"Ms. Mana Pool."
"What's she do?"
"She powers this entire place. That chair she sits in allows her to channel her mana into the building and reservoirs of the University."
"The whole school!?!"
"Yes. You be polite and don't annoy her."
"How much mana does she have?"
"I don't know, but I heard she's turned down godhood at least 37 times."
((Finis)) | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | The smoldering crater left every examiner stunned. A human teenager should not be capable of producing a fireball that big. Even prodigies, like Zanther, had to work their way up to a feat like that. The other examiners shared nervous glances with each other. They couldn't reach a decision.
Up until the demonstration phase of the entrance exam, this girl had shown herself to be an incompetent mess. She didn't know the fundamental theorems of mana dispersal or a shred of history about the craft. Basic exercises like shaping and weaving made her look like a delusional brat. The other applicants actually laughed at her when she told them to stand back before casting her spell.
They were all quiet now.
This simply shouldn't be possible.
Zanther kept staring at her. She looked so innocent. The examiners were still shocked at her strength, ignoring the scariest part of this whole ordeal. The girl didn't even break a sweat afterwards. She could probably throw ten more of those until feeling winded. Maybe more.
Nobody else wanted to go after seeing her. She basically ended the exam for today.
The examiners sat around a table behind closed doors to discuss the issue. Zanther abhorred that they even had to consider it. That kind of potential should never be ignored. Unfortunately, most of these old fools couldn't look past their egos. It was obvious they were intimidated by her. They brought up things like tradition, proper theory and respect, dancing around the fact that some of them couldn't replicate what she did. Of course, Zanther couldn't mention that, considering his... affliction.
Kelvathum, a relatively young high elf, led the conversation. She came from a respected family of archmages with close ties to the monarchy. The council respected her opinion simply because of her name. Disdain was hidden by fake congeniality when she said:
"Yes, it is a pity, but I'm afraid we can't help her. The girl's too... invested in her method. She'd have to take remedial lessons just to catch up to the novices. Our efforts are better spent on people with promise."
The rest of the council nodded. They weren't going to challenge her.
Zanther cleared his throat. "That shouldn't be a problem. We're a university; our job is to teach."
"Within reason" said Kelvathum. "We wouldn't hold entrance exams if we were interested in teaching basic theory. This place is for people that are serious about the craft."
"And that girl isn't?"
"Of course not!" Kelvathum scoffed. "Did you see some of her answers? She couldn't even name the four applications of mana!"
"And yet, she clearly demonstrated an aptitude for all of them."
"Our craft isn't about flashy spells. It's about elegant problem solving and the pursuit of knowledge. She values neither."
"That doesn't make her any less competent. Or dedicated."
"Yes, *you'd* find that impressive, wouldn't you?" sneered Kelvathum.
Zanther frowned.
Kelvathum smirked. "Is there a problem?"
"I don't appreciate your tone."
"Don't be like that! I'm just saying an artificer like you might have different standards than the rest of us."
"You're skirting dangerous territory." Zanther glared for a moment. "Don't let your hubris blind you."
The other council members tensed up.
Kelvathum raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?"
"What?" Zanther chuckled. "I would never. This isn't about me. Or you. I just think the council is missing an important detail."
"Which is...?"
"That girl is already a threat to the kingdom, and she made it this far without any tutelage." Zanther looked at everyone. "Some of you wouldn't even survive that explosion. Imagine how far she'll get in ten years. If the monarchy were to discover that we turned her away when we could still control her, well..." He shrugged. "Actually, forget it. I'm sure Kelvathum would be thrilled to explain her reasoning to the royal court. As we all know, they're *very* understanding over there."
"W-what? Why me?"
"I mean, you made a compelling argument. I think I'm starting to see your point. After all, we're too busy over here to teach her the basics..."
"I never said that!"
The council members started mulling over the possibilities. They couldn't afford to enrage the crown. As the leading university on the continent, the Stardust Arcanum was already on tenuous ground with the monarchy. Wizards threatened the stability of the kingdom by default. Sure, they were useful to have around, but their power was intimidating and the teaching of foreigners was always a source of tension. The crown would leap at the chance to dismantle this university if they could find a believable justification, even if it was a flimsy one.
Zanther knew he had already convinced the council. The only thing bigger than their egos was their cowardice. They pretended to deliberate some more while Kelvathum stormed out of the room. The decision was finalized after thirty minutes. The girl would be admitted into the university with a full scholarship. Zanther was tasked with her remedial lessons. He didn't mind. In fact, that was probably for the best. The others might intentionally hinder her growth out of fear or jealousy.
The giant crater still emitted heat when Zanther walked past it. He made a mental note to have the practice field kept that way. Teaching the girl to fix it with earth shaping would make for a good project. At the very least, she would learn to clean up her own mess.
Zanther stiffened up when he entered the waiting room. The girl wasn't here. Zanther found an apprentice instructor nearby. They were supposed to keep an eye on the applicants while the council deliberated. The apprentice just shrugged. Zanther ran out of the campus after hearing him out. Apparently, the girl left with Kelvathum a while back.
------
Karla had never felt so disappointed in herself. Even after saving up money and giving it her best, the elf lady told her that she wasn't accepted. Her dreams of being an archmage were crushed. Everyone told her to not bother with Stardust. That place was for gifted people with good education. Her parents were simple farmers. They only got her an old scroll with instructions for one spell as a child. It was supposed to be a novelty to decorate her room. Karla didn't see it that way. She practiced it over and over for years until managing to create a decent explosion all on her own. Just like the legend of Megumin!
Unfortunately, that wasn't good enough. Stardust Arcanum University required a lot of weird brainy stuff she didn't comprehend. The elf lady, Kel-something, gave her hope. She told Karla that she might still get accepted if she accompanied her on a dangerous quest. Karla didn't think twice about it. Hunting monsters is how she earned her money in the first place.
The forest was eerily silent. Karla hesitated to go this deep into it at first. They were incredibly isolated. Nobody would hear them if something went wrong. Karla swallowed down the fear. She didn't have anything to worry about with an archmage present. The elf lady was so pretty and kind. Doing this favor for Karla was incredibly benevolent of her. She'd gotten more quiet the farther they went, though.
Karla feared that she'd insulted her somehow. Nah. She shook the doubt away.
The elf lady was probably sharpening her focus. She already had her dagger out and everything.
Karla didn't think anything was wrong until seeing the elf lady cast a spell... on her. Energy struck the young girl's body. It froze her in place. Karla panicked. The elf lady slowly approached with the dagger, making a psychotic grin. Karla summoned as much of her mana as possible. Her body started to hurt, but she broke out of the spell when the elf lady attacked her.
The elf lady blinked, astonished.
"Is.. is this part of the test?"
The elf lady lunged forward, thrusting her weapon. "Die!"
Karla ducked and sprinted away.
The elf lady ran after her.
Karla shrieked. She couldn't throw a fireball. It would hit them both.
The elf lady threw a ray of ice. It slowed down Karla. There wasn't any other choice. Karla threw a fireball.
An explosion engulfed them. Karla had never felt this much pain. She fell on her knees, holding back her tears. When the smoke cleared, the elf lady remained standing, barely injured.
Karla widened her eyes. "How?"
"It's called a fire ward, honey. I did it before we left. A competent wizard would know about them."
Karla stood up, but her burns made her fall again. Her body couldn't move properly.
The elf lady loomed over her before stabbing at Karla's chest.
A barrier protected her from the dagger.
Karla squinted. What was that? A weird cube on the ground generated a force-field around her.
"That's enough, Kelvathum." The voice came from a man that hovered above them. Karla recognized him as one of the examiners. He floated down until landing next to the young girl. "I'm disappointed you'd go this far."
The elf lady scowled. "You said it yourself; she's a threat!"
The man sighed. "You're the only threat here."
"I'll kill you both, then!"
"You won't."
The man pulled out another cube, clicked it, and teleported away with Karla.
------
*Continued below.* | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | *Day 1, First period.*
Frank was sitting in a classroom. It was a bit conspicuous, a 30 year old man sitting in between a bunch of 15 year old boys and girls.
"Well done Clara, I can see you have been practicing over the summer holiday," the teacher, Mr. Goodspell, praised her. "Good technique, fine spell work, good wand movement. Take a seat please. Mr. Abernathy can you show us what you can do? You have lighted a candle before?"
"Errr... Not exactly," Frank replied. "I know a bit of fire magic. There is this one spell I learned that..."
"Just the candle spell, please. Stand here, aim your wand at the candle and cast."
"I don't like using the wand, sir."
"Mr. Abernathy, I explained you need the wand to focus and amplify your abilities. Wild magic will not be tolerated. Now please cast your spell."
Frank held the wand with both hands like he was firing a shotgun from the hip. The rest of the class was tittering. It distracted Frank and as his concentration lapsed a bit, the tiny trickle of power he tried to squeeze out became his usual flood as his control over manna loosened a bit. Not that he noticed it with his vast reserves.
His newly acquired classmates on the other hand jumped back as ungodly bright beam of energy launched from his wand towards the rack of candles and right through it. Hot pieces of wax, propelled by vaporizing parts of wax and steam flew through the room and pinged against the nuclear war grade shield spell Frank habitually used, protecting most of the class.
When the spell ended and everybody came out of hiding behind their desks, they just stared at the red glowing wall that still dripped with half melted lava.
"I lighted the wall, sir. Does that count?"
"OUT! Class Dismissed."
*Day 1, Second period.*
The students tried to move their now very heavy golden chairs away from the golden desk, scraping over the golden floorboards.
"I asked you to transfigure the flower, Mr. Abernathy. Not the rest of the class. Please undo this."
"Sorry, Ma'am. I only know how to turn things to gold. And the wand, you see, it gives it a bit too much oomph."
"You really have to learn to focus that wild magic of yours."
*Day 1, Third period.*
Students were flying away on their broom at high speed in a panic as the very large dragon chased them. As the dragon puffed fire, they students increased their speed.
"MR. ABERNATHY GET DOWN HERE" the teacher for flying lessons boomed, using the amplifying charm.
Several seconds later, the dragon dropped heavily on the ground. The shock wave lifted the teacher of the ground for a moment, but she stayed perfectly upright and landed lightly.
"The broom please."
As the dragon opened its front paw, a broom was visible, looking like a toothpick in its huge paw. The dragon dropped the broom in front of the teacher.
"You are to fly on the broom, not carry it."
In a very deep booming voice, with green and blue flames wafting around its maw the dragon responded: "SORRY I PANICKED FOR A MOMENT."
Internally the teacher face palmed herself silly, but remained stoically on the outside.
"From the top. What are the three rules of flying?" | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "All right," said the headmaster, sounding bored.
Lorinna wasn't bored. She knew what she needed to do. She just wasn't sure it would be enough.
She got up, nervously brushed her cloak, and stepped forward. The headmaster waved to the range. "Try to destroy the target," he said wearily.
Lorinna looked at the target. It was a mockery of a human, like the straw men that were put out in fields to keep the birds away. She could do this
She *would* do this. She might only know one spell, but she could make it work. She dropped to place both hands against the ground and shoved her power. It raced towards the target (creating a perfectly plowed furrow) and when it reached the target slashes came out of the ground slicing it to ribbons before a light burst utterly destroyed it.
She looked away from the destroyed target and at the now astonished face of the headmaster. A quick glance around showed that the other candidates were also staring at her and she looked at the ground. She didn't like being stared at; it made her want to hide.
"Where did you learn that spell?" demanded the headmaster.
Her cheeks burned with shame. If she'd had anyone to teach her, would she be here? "I--I made it," she confessed.
"*You* made *that*?" demanded the headmaster.
"Well sir," she said softly, "I have to work the fields at home, and there are big rocks that fall from the mountains." | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "So long story short, right?" Manfred looked at the assembled Sorcerers. They sat safely behind the chancel at a high table tilled with food and drink and did not react "Right. So I'm minding my own business, at the Anchor and Dribbler, well round the back, where the staff go in their off time. They play a few dice games, a few bets, see?"
A Sorcerer with a chin you could cut meat on asked "Are you going somewhere with this boy?" almost spitting that last part. Apprentices scampered around delivering foods and wines to the table.
"Right, well I'm just getting to that bit. Then my mate Gammy, we call him Gammy because of his leg. He lost it when out with the boys once night. A backstreet Enchanty boy made a fair go of it, but it didn't come out right, see. So he's Gammy. Gammy says 'Look out.' and I'm like 'Whoa Gammy, calm down. You've had a bit much.' but I don't say that, I say 'Bruv?'. Gammy fell over backwards over this wall, and we all fall about laughing." Fred walked around the Altar in the middle of the area commoners were very much not allowed in.
The head Wizard leaned forward, clearly interested. He motioned to the cup on front of him, and an apprentice poured wine, spilling it slightly. The wizard didn't notice.
"When voomf, out of nowhere, there is this goblin. Voomf. Right in the middle of the game. I put me chips down, and said 'Are you having a laff' and I mean't it see. He got me right anger like. Like just coming into the middle of our banter like that. The barmy thing was the reason we didn't see him. He had this hat you see, with a tiny effect. If someones distracted you can't seem them. Unless they do something really stupid, like run out of energy and fall into the middle of your game, you'd never know they were there. So I'm looking at this hat, and I think 'Fred, what are you going to do with that?', so I put it on. And you don't know what happened? Everyone hung on my every word. It didn't matter in slight what I said. I have a notion it was some sort of low level hypnosis, that was just supposed to make you not notice things a wee bit, and would only work for a wee bit. The thing is, when I use to to distract people, it didn't stop working. I could just keep doing it all bloomin' day. It didn't stop, so either did I. So I got me mates Gammy and the lads, and we had the notion to come down here, have a right barmy in the College. See how far we can take this"
The head Wizard nodded in agreement as an apprentice limped beside him. Gammy, wearing earmuffs, gently removed the Wizards rings and other assorted valuables. He was taking dinner and supper too. Probably breakfast. Maybe even Elevenses. | "Exactly why are we studying astrology instead of... you know real fucking magic? Learning how to heat a hot Pocket is more worth investing this useless piece of garbage?" I ask politely to my astrology teacher.
"because one day in the near future, you will use them... Somehow. Probably. Maybe" she replied.
"What the fuck am I gonna do with the knowledge of knowing that my future is fucking dark you wanker without even knowing the context or some kinda fucking clue or at least a image. My future as a mage is always dark." I said once more.
***
"So what are we doing for M.F.E class?" I ask my Magical Fitness Education teacher.
"The typical. Go fly a lap and play magic-ball or something. I don't care." He reply lazily.
"That's what we have always been doing for the last 5 session you stupid monkey. What the fuck is the point of M.F.E subject if we're not gonna do some fucking magical fitness education. The magical is there, and some form of fitness is also there but where the fuck did education go? Being taken to the fucking Isengard with the hobbits? Where's the fucking basic learning dueling or sparring as a mage or practicing casting spell non verbal or some form of meditation and training to increase one Mana capacity... You know what. I quit. But first I'm gonna post a rant about how useless school for spellcraft."
"Ok." | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "Show us what you can do, then."
“Fine,” I snapped.
So they didn’t believe me when I said I was one of the most powerful mages in the world.
They’d set me the task of performing silly little spells, of the sort I had no idea how to do and had no use for.
Things that had no power.
Things that any self-righteous powerful mage would delegate to lesser magicians.
Housework spells, spells for smelling weather, spells for conjuring flimsy illusions …
Pffft.
I mentally shook myself and got ready. As a powerful mage, intent and clarity of mind mattered. Distraction would do me no favours, especially not here, in front of these weak academic wizards.
Slowly I drew the power into my body, the familiar feeling singing through my bones and muscles. I shifted my weight, drew back my fist which was wreathed in magic, shaped into a point … and drove it into the tree trunk.
The tree didn’t just split, it exploded. The wizards screamed and ducked, throwing up deflective shields as the shards flew past. I, of course, did not duck. I stood proud, as the sharp wood pieces failed to penetrate my body thanks to the coat of power I had applied.
“Have I demonstrated my power?” I said to the academics as I brushed the debris off my shoulders. They only gaped at the wreckage of the tree, heedless of the leaves now getting entangled in their hair.
The headmaster was the first to recover. “Errr … that was impressive, I admit. But can you do anything else?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” I said again.
I redirected most of the power to my legs, crouched … and jumped. Higher and higher I rose into the air. Up, up. Past the tallest spire of the academic institution. For a moment I was weightless. Then I was falling.
Falling! This never failed to thrill me, no matter how many times I did it. I refocused my power to be that of a softer, more absorptive nature, readying myself for the landing –
#**BOOOOM**
As the dust cleared, I looked up from the kneeling position I crouched in. Around me was an earthen wall, curving upwards and rimmed by a perfectly circular edge. For a few moments I waited for heads to start peeking over the edge, but none came.
As I climbed out of the crater, I saw the pitiable fools still trying to recover from the awesome display of my power. Many had fallen to the ground; I saw one or two trying to pick themselves up. Others were just tottering around. I looked at the building of the school some distance away; many of the ground-floor windows had shattered.
“Er – I can pay for the windows?” I offered.
The wizards stared at me. Then they started pulling out their wands, staffs, spellbooks –
Attack! They were attacking me!
The cowardly wizards were shooting spells at me.
I threw up a wall of power, blocking the spells, and pushed out most of the rest of my power in a diffuse globe around me, including inside the ground. I left just enough power as a thin coating on my body.
I watched them, these wizards, as they tried to batter down my wall. Yawn.
I could do this all day if I had to. I did so once when I brought down the Terror of Woodheim, a dark mage who’d preyed on the poor innocent villagers with his dark spells. Until he’d tired himself out on me and I put him out with a punch.
There! My head whipped around as one wizard teleported behind me, hoping to catch me out.
“Not so fast,” I muttered, as I clicked my fingers. The pocket of diffuse haze of power around the poor sucker solidified, becoming a barrier as immutable as my first main wall, trapping him. He could not send any spells because number one, he couldn’t speak as his jaw was clamped shut, number two, any spell he’d pull off would go nowhere except his own body as the barrier pressed against his clothes and skin, and number three, he couldn’t move.
Another wizard got the bright idea to use a digging spell and catch me underneath my feet, but that didn’t work, either. I left him trapped underneath the soil and focused on my wall. It pushed outward, towards the remaining gaggle of wizards.
“Time to end this,” I said.
The wall curved inwards, sweeping up the sorry gaggle of wizards and throwing them against one another into a spherical prison. The barrage of spells immediately stopped as these dunces had enough sense to not damage one another through friendly fire. Pity.
“Well, I came here to see if I could learn something,” I declared, looking up at them inside the globe I was floating several metres above the ground. They stared back.
“Apparently not. I’d heard that this school was the best one for miles around. I suppose I’ll go look for another school …”
Suddenly withdrawing my power into myself, the sphere disappeared, sending the screaming wizards tumbling back to earth.
I leapt up, and fashioning my power into two planes like wings to either side of my torso, flew away. | I walk down the street, the same street I've walked down about 100 other times. I mess with lights a bit and laugh at the reactions of commoners as they get confused. I move around their stuff with a quick flick of the wrist, I silently giggle to myself as they try to find out what's going on.
Something catches my eye as I walk. I've walked down this street so many times and know where everything is, but this was something new. No one else glanced over at it. People made strange faces at me as I stared at it. Almost as if they couldn't see it. I read over at the paper. It had a picture of a wizard on the paper. At a second glance I realized that the picture was of me in different clothes. There were words written at the bottom.
**New Mageton Academy. Accepting new wizards now.**
Could this be what I was looking for all this time? I had finally found somewhere for people like me. I glanced over my shoulder. A kind looking girl was staring at the paper as well.
"You see it too?" I asked. She looked startled at the question.
"Can other people not?" She questioned.
I thought about what she said and remembered when I had first discovered my powers. It occurred to me that she had not yet known about her powers.
I put on a soft smile. "If you want I can teach you about this all. I think you'd make a great mage." She looked confused. I could tell she somewhat believed me though.
**4 years later.**
I wake up in bed next to my wife. I recall the time when we met 4 years ago. She had become such a great mage it seemed like she had known it all her life. | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | It was casting class. Super easy, or so everyone else walking down the path to the shoreline said. I hadn't made any friends yet, and judging by the looks everyone kept giving me, I knew I wasn't going to change that any time soon. Everyone knew I was the only one in the entire school that didn't have to take the entry exam to get in, and I could tell they resented me for it. I know I'm special, but they just see a regular guy who took a spot that could have gone to someone more talented.
​
Not just the students; outside of the high mage lord and a janitor, I couldn't find a soul on the entire campus that would willingly associate with me. Every single mentor in the school gave me boldfaced sneers when they saw me, and made sure to ask me the hardest questions. We're only two weeks in, how am I supposed to know how to conjure a second level djinn? As for my fellow student body? The upper class bullied me every chance they had (which was a lot, considering most teachers turned around when they saw it going on), the juniors followed the upper class, and my peers were just trying to fit in so they avoided me whenever possible. I at least had friends back home; here I was a pariah. My parents sent me here because I nearly destroyed our small town. And because I had potential, but mostly because of the black hole that sucked in half of the community. To be fair, I did return most of the people to this dimension, but they held a grudge. The subsequent earthquake I caused while trying to stop the aforementioned gravity well probably added to their ill will.
​
Either way, here I am bumping into the student in front of me because I'm thinking of this, which grants me a swift kick in my shin. The mentor hears the commotion and turns IMMEDIATELY to me. "Since you want to create a commotion, maybe you should be the first to create a hydrosphere?" The mentor gestured with his skinny, jaundiced fingers to the ocean in front of us as he asked the question, then stepped back with the students and grinned his jaundiced teeth at me. It was clear I was getting no further instruction, so I stepped up to the waterline and began to concentrate. I sucked at the magic classes so far, but I was passing English with flying colors, so I knew I was supposed to be making a ball of water.
​
Here's the thing though.... I have no clue what I'm supposed to be doing to get this water all balled up. My back home Black Hole? Total accident, happened because I was digging a literal hole to fill with cement (summer employment) and got distracted. I didn't do any hand wavy thing; I had nothing to channel magic power into. I breathed deeply and did my best Spirit Bomb pose (DBZ best anime ever magic battle me if you disagree) and tried to will every image of a ball into my brain. I thought of a basketball going straight through the net, I imagined fire hoses on full spray with no one manning them. I mentally watched 100,000 ice cubes melt in a time lapse on a YouView video ~~suck it copyright laws~~ and flow into a transparent watermelon. I dreamt up hot breath on my neck, telling me to move my worthless body out of the way so someone with talent could actually take this opportunity to learn something, instead of sleeping while standing. Wait wha- I open my eyes and turn to find the mentor right behind me.
Now, hear me out. I. WAS. NOT. PREPARED. the sight of this man in his ragged cloak. The brief moistness of his mouth breath on my ear as I was turning. the faintest hint of homeless man, and not like I don't want to be homeless homeless. This was a whiff of comfort in despondence; a person who panhandles too fast to collect change because they know they're not worth the money. The blatant invasion of my personal space, and the fact that he was like a wizard ninja, because I did not hear him come up behind me. I say all of this to let you know when I jumped back and summoned The Lightning from the sky that touched down before I did, it was by mistake.
​
To his credit, the mentor (I really should learn his name) saved his astonishment for later, and had immediately put up shield to defend himself. Can't say how he knew what to defend against when I didn't know I was throwing it, but hey; this is why he's the teacher and I'm the student right? Only his shield wasn't strong enough I guess because the lightning hit, rebounded into the sky, and redoubled its force and completely shattered the shield. I'm talking energy flecks flew everywhere. The Lightning had given up speed for its newfound strength, so it wasn't moving as quickly as it initially was. He switched from defense to not-really-offense, and summoned the sand at his feet (also gnarled and in need of a pedicure. He was wearing a pair of What Are THOSE? so i could tell) to act as some kind of conductor, and guided the lightning back up into the sky. It shook off the sand , then went for my classmates. Some of them created basic shields, which may have worked, considering the fact that they were overlapping each other. We never got to find out, because the sand beat the lightning and absorbed the blow, exploding into dust in the air. The Lightning went through an anthropomorphic phase, then stood in the air as a human shape with a sword and reared back, in ready mode but not attacking.
​
Now, I'm watching this occur just like everyone else in the class, and for some reason everyone starts looking at me for this to stop. The mentor, who I'm going to call Frank the magician for clarity's sake, is breathing a little harder than he was before, and is glancing back and forth from the obvious enemy in front of him to me. "Would you bloody well do something to stop this?!!?" I look at him like he grew another face on his face that was even uglier than his original one. "I didn't really do this on purpose; not sure how to stop something I didn't know I could start. Maybe some instruction?" Frank the magician took enough time to give me his best idiotstudentwhyareyouhere glare, then created a phalanx shield out of the still whirling debris while speaking with a calmness that wasn't there a second ago. "This is what is known as a projection. It can be made of any natural element, and will serve your subconscious desires. Subconsciously, you want to kill me, so it is acting on your behalf."
​
"Nah Frank, you got the wrong idea. I don't want to kill you!" There was an extremely uncomfortable silence that only grew when I realized I called Frank the magician by his given (to him by me) name. During that time, The Lightning seemed to look around at everyone, then put away his sword, shrunk to the height of my knee , and walked to stand at my side. Guess it was mine after all.
​
Frank the magician got his breathing under control, then dispersed the shield . He slowly approached me, warily watching The Lightning. He came within a few feet and stopped. "You shall address me as High Caster Ieitherius. Next time your projection attacks, you must calm your will, and decide your intent. This will help with your control over it."
"What do you mean next time?" At this point I'm confused again. "Doesn't it go away after a couple hours, like Ziyagra?" The disgust on his face was clear, but was mixed with a new look I had only seen in the faces of my friends back home. It's like when they believe in you, and can see you doing great things? I could see some of that in Ieieiei--Frank the magician's face.
​
"You shall report to High Projectioner Thimaeus (that's Clark) for classes on control with the senior students. You cannot attend classes until you have mastered your relationship; that projection will stay with you for life, whichever one ends first. I will work out a schedule where you will take private lessons with the other mentors to continue your learning."
"So wait, I'm not in trouble?" The Lightning looked up at me, then back to Frank the magician. "Your talent is apparent. As a mentor, I must teach you how to utilize your skill in a manner befitting a magician. Class is over," He said as he turned and walked back to the path leading to the campus. | I walk down the street, the same street I've walked down about 100 other times. I mess with lights a bit and laugh at the reactions of commoners as they get confused. I move around their stuff with a quick flick of the wrist, I silently giggle to myself as they try to find out what's going on.
Something catches my eye as I walk. I've walked down this street so many times and know where everything is, but this was something new. No one else glanced over at it. People made strange faces at me as I stared at it. Almost as if they couldn't see it. I read over at the paper. It had a picture of a wizard on the paper. At a second glance I realized that the picture was of me in different clothes. There were words written at the bottom.
**New Mageton Academy. Accepting new wizards now.**
Could this be what I was looking for all this time? I had finally found somewhere for people like me. I glanced over my shoulder. A kind looking girl was staring at the paper as well.
"You see it too?" I asked. She looked startled at the question.
"Can other people not?" She questioned.
I thought about what she said and remembered when I had first discovered my powers. It occurred to me that she had not yet known about her powers.
I put on a soft smile. "If you want I can teach you about this all. I think you'd make a great mage." She looked confused. I could tell she somewhat believed me though.
**4 years later.**
I wake up in bed next to my wife. I recall the time when we met 4 years ago. She had become such a great mage it seemed like she had known it all her life. | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | "Powers the size of a Galaxy. Every spell a strategic nuclear weapon."
That's me, in a nutshell. Sure, I can toast bread, for the entire country, every loaf, even when they're frozen — nice golden brown on every one. Ah, I see you remember. Sorry about that, I only wanted to toast *my* bread, and not all of that.
If it weren't for the fact that I like people and toast, I could cast that spell all… day… long… I wouldn't even scratch the surface of my reserves.
Now, I'd like you to imagine what would happen to the world we *all* live in, if some government got their hands on me, and found a way to coerce me.
Do you want an entire country turned into burnt crunchy bits? It'll take me a map and two seconds.
How do I know? I wanted to thaw some land for a friend. He was going to have to dig it up for an emergency pipe repair, using heavy equipment since the ground was too hard for hand tools. Based on the energy to bring the silica in the soil to a temperature where it wasn't quite liquid, but was still hot enough to fuse? Yeah. I did the math. Two seconds.
Now he can use hand tools, and a shop vac, but he's going to need to re-sod his entire front lawn and replace the melted siding on that side of the house. It even made his windows sag. Good thing he had that infrared reflective coating. The radiance would have ignited his furniture.
I can do the same damn thing to every country in the world, in less than half a day, without using more than half my mana. I'll be fully recharged in four hours.
I need a way to control the amount of mana flowing into the spell. Two ways. Reduce the rate, or chop the time. I can't figure out how to reduce the rate, so I've focused on cutting the time as small as I can. It's not enough.
"My Lady, I'm surprised you haven't blown the world to smithereens, or yourself for that matter."
"Chancellor, who says I haven't?
The world? Five times and brought it back so smoothly that no one even noticed.
Myself? This is my 94,737th body. I did a *lot* of experiments."
"Have you considered becoming a deity?"
"My one attempt at creating life caused one of the world destruction events. I have to have control first.
Not that I'd consider godhood anyway, worshipers are annoying…
Oops…
World destruction #1."
"I'm not sure we can help, but I think we have to try."
…—…
"Who is that lady that all the instructors are so deferential to?"
"Ms. Mana Pool."
"What's she do?"
"She powers this entire place. That chair she sits in allows her to channel her mana into the building and reservoirs of the University."
"The whole school!?!"
"Yes. You be polite and don't annoy her."
"How much mana does she have?"
"I don't know, but I heard she's turned down godhood at least 37 times."
((Finis)) | I walk down the street, the same street I've walked down about 100 other times. I mess with lights a bit and laugh at the reactions of commoners as they get confused. I move around their stuff with a quick flick of the wrist, I silently giggle to myself as they try to find out what's going on.
Something catches my eye as I walk. I've walked down this street so many times and know where everything is, but this was something new. No one else glanced over at it. People made strange faces at me as I stared at it. Almost as if they couldn't see it. I read over at the paper. It had a picture of a wizard on the paper. At a second glance I realized that the picture was of me in different clothes. There were words written at the bottom.
**New Mageton Academy. Accepting new wizards now.**
Could this be what I was looking for all this time? I had finally found somewhere for people like me. I glanced over my shoulder. A kind looking girl was staring at the paper as well.
"You see it too?" I asked. She looked startled at the question.
"Can other people not?" She questioned.
I thought about what she said and remembered when I had first discovered my powers. It occurred to me that she had not yet known about her powers.
I put on a soft smile. "If you want I can teach you about this all. I think you'd make a great mage." She looked confused. I could tell she somewhat believed me though.
**4 years later.**
I wake up in bed next to my wife. I recall the time when we met 4 years ago. She had become such a great mage it seemed like she had known it all her life. | |
[WP] You're among the most powerful mages in the world. But you're self-taught: while your reserves of mana are great, your versatility is... lacking. You decide to finally try attending a school for spellcraft to see what you can learn. | The smoldering crater left every examiner stunned. A human teenager should not be capable of producing a fireball that big. Even prodigies, like Zanther, had to work their way up to a feat like that. The other examiners shared nervous glances with each other. They couldn't reach a decision.
Up until the demonstration phase of the entrance exam, this girl had shown herself to be an incompetent mess. She didn't know the fundamental theorems of mana dispersal or a shred of history about the craft. Basic exercises like shaping and weaving made her look like a delusional brat. The other applicants actually laughed at her when she told them to stand back before casting her spell.
They were all quiet now.
This simply shouldn't be possible.
Zanther kept staring at her. She looked so innocent. The examiners were still shocked at her strength, ignoring the scariest part of this whole ordeal. The girl didn't even break a sweat afterwards. She could probably throw ten more of those until feeling winded. Maybe more.
Nobody else wanted to go after seeing her. She basically ended the exam for today.
The examiners sat around a table behind closed doors to discuss the issue. Zanther abhorred that they even had to consider it. That kind of potential should never be ignored. Unfortunately, most of these old fools couldn't look past their egos. It was obvious they were intimidated by her. They brought up things like tradition, proper theory and respect, dancing around the fact that some of them couldn't replicate what she did. Of course, Zanther couldn't mention that, considering his... affliction.
Kelvathum, a relatively young high elf, led the conversation. She came from a respected family of archmages with close ties to the monarchy. The council respected her opinion simply because of her name. Disdain was hidden by fake congeniality when she said:
"Yes, it is a pity, but I'm afraid we can't help her. The girl's too... invested in her method. She'd have to take remedial lessons just to catch up to the novices. Our efforts are better spent on people with promise."
The rest of the council nodded. They weren't going to challenge her.
Zanther cleared his throat. "That shouldn't be a problem. We're a university; our job is to teach."
"Within reason" said Kelvathum. "We wouldn't hold entrance exams if we were interested in teaching basic theory. This place is for people that are serious about the craft."
"And that girl isn't?"
"Of course not!" Kelvathum scoffed. "Did you see some of her answers? She couldn't even name the four applications of mana!"
"And yet, she clearly demonstrated an aptitude for all of them."
"Our craft isn't about flashy spells. It's about elegant problem solving and the pursuit of knowledge. She values neither."
"That doesn't make her any less competent. Or dedicated."
"Yes, *you'd* find that impressive, wouldn't you?" sneered Kelvathum.
Zanther frowned.
Kelvathum smirked. "Is there a problem?"
"I don't appreciate your tone."
"Don't be like that! I'm just saying an artificer like you might have different standards than the rest of us."
"You're skirting dangerous territory." Zanther glared for a moment. "Don't let your hubris blind you."
The other council members tensed up.
Kelvathum raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening me?"
"What?" Zanther chuckled. "I would never. This isn't about me. Or you. I just think the council is missing an important detail."
"Which is...?"
"That girl is already a threat to the kingdom, and she made it this far without any tutelage." Zanther looked at everyone. "Some of you wouldn't even survive that explosion. Imagine how far she'll get in ten years. If the monarchy were to discover that we turned her away when we could still control her, well..." He shrugged. "Actually, forget it. I'm sure Kelvathum would be thrilled to explain her reasoning to the royal court. As we all know, they're *very* understanding over there."
"W-what? Why me?"
"I mean, you made a compelling argument. I think I'm starting to see your point. After all, we're too busy over here to teach her the basics..."
"I never said that!"
The council members started mulling over the possibilities. They couldn't afford to enrage the crown. As the leading university on the continent, the Stardust Arcanum was already on tenuous ground with the monarchy. Wizards threatened the stability of the kingdom by default. Sure, they were useful to have around, but their power was intimidating and the teaching of foreigners was always a source of tension. The crown would leap at the chance to dismantle this university if they could find a believable justification, even if it was a flimsy one.
Zanther knew he had already convinced the council. The only thing bigger than their egos was their cowardice. They pretended to deliberate some more while Kelvathum stormed out of the room. The decision was finalized after thirty minutes. The girl would be admitted into the university with a full scholarship. Zanther was tasked with her remedial lessons. He didn't mind. In fact, that was probably for the best. The others might intentionally hinder her growth out of fear or jealousy.
The giant crater still emitted heat when Zanther walked past it. He made a mental note to have the practice field kept that way. Teaching the girl to fix it with earth shaping would make for a good project. At the very least, she would learn to clean up her own mess.
Zanther stiffened up when he entered the waiting room. The girl wasn't here. Zanther found an apprentice instructor nearby. They were supposed to keep an eye on the applicants while the council deliberated. The apprentice just shrugged. Zanther ran out of the campus after hearing him out. Apparently, the girl left with Kelvathum a while back.
------
Karla had never felt so disappointed in herself. Even after saving up money and giving it her best, the elf lady told her that she wasn't accepted. Her dreams of being an archmage were crushed. Everyone told her to not bother with Stardust. That place was for gifted people with good education. Her parents were simple farmers. They only got her an old scroll with instructions for one spell as a child. It was supposed to be a novelty to decorate her room. Karla didn't see it that way. She practiced it over and over for years until managing to create a decent explosion all on her own. Just like the legend of Megumin!
Unfortunately, that wasn't good enough. Stardust Arcanum University required a lot of weird brainy stuff she didn't comprehend. The elf lady, Kel-something, gave her hope. She told Karla that she might still get accepted if she accompanied her on a dangerous quest. Karla didn't think twice about it. Hunting monsters is how she earned her money in the first place.
The forest was eerily silent. Karla hesitated to go this deep into it at first. They were incredibly isolated. Nobody would hear them if something went wrong. Karla swallowed down the fear. She didn't have anything to worry about with an archmage present. The elf lady was so pretty and kind. Doing this favor for Karla was incredibly benevolent of her. She'd gotten more quiet the farther they went, though.
Karla feared that she'd insulted her somehow. Nah. She shook the doubt away.
The elf lady was probably sharpening her focus. She already had her dagger out and everything.
Karla didn't think anything was wrong until seeing the elf lady cast a spell... on her. Energy struck the young girl's body. It froze her in place. Karla panicked. The elf lady slowly approached with the dagger, making a psychotic grin. Karla summoned as much of her mana as possible. Her body started to hurt, but she broke out of the spell when the elf lady attacked her.
The elf lady blinked, astonished.
"Is.. is this part of the test?"
The elf lady lunged forward, thrusting her weapon. "Die!"
Karla ducked and sprinted away.
The elf lady ran after her.
Karla shrieked. She couldn't throw a fireball. It would hit them both.
The elf lady threw a ray of ice. It slowed down Karla. There wasn't any other choice. Karla threw a fireball.
An explosion engulfed them. Karla had never felt this much pain. She fell on her knees, holding back her tears. When the smoke cleared, the elf lady remained standing, barely injured.
Karla widened her eyes. "How?"
"It's called a fire ward, honey. I did it before we left. A competent wizard would know about them."
Karla stood up, but her burns made her fall again. Her body couldn't move properly.
The elf lady loomed over her before stabbing at Karla's chest.
A barrier protected her from the dagger.
Karla squinted. What was that? A weird cube on the ground generated a force-field around her.
"That's enough, Kelvathum." The voice came from a man that hovered above them. Karla recognized him as one of the examiners. He floated down until landing next to the young girl. "I'm disappointed you'd go this far."
The elf lady scowled. "You said it yourself; she's a threat!"
The man sighed. "You're the only threat here."
"I'll kill you both, then!"
"You won't."
The man pulled out another cube, clicked it, and teleported away with Karla.
------
*Continued below.* | I walk down the street, the same street I've walked down about 100 other times. I mess with lights a bit and laugh at the reactions of commoners as they get confused. I move around their stuff with a quick flick of the wrist, I silently giggle to myself as they try to find out what's going on.
Something catches my eye as I walk. I've walked down this street so many times and know where everything is, but this was something new. No one else glanced over at it. People made strange faces at me as I stared at it. Almost as if they couldn't see it. I read over at the paper. It had a picture of a wizard on the paper. At a second glance I realized that the picture was of me in different clothes. There were words written at the bottom.
**New Mageton Academy. Accepting new wizards now.**
Could this be what I was looking for all this time? I had finally found somewhere for people like me. I glanced over my shoulder. A kind looking girl was staring at the paper as well.
"You see it too?" I asked. She looked startled at the question.
"Can other people not?" She questioned.
I thought about what she said and remembered when I had first discovered my powers. It occurred to me that she had not yet known about her powers.
I put on a soft smile. "If you want I can teach you about this all. I think you'd make a great mage." She looked confused. I could tell she somewhat believed me though.
**4 years later.**
I wake up in bed next to my wife. I recall the time when we met 4 years ago. She had become such a great mage it seemed like she had known it all her life. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.