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[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | You know what the great thing about having a gun in a world of bows and swords? You’re a lot more deadly than anyone else.
Do you also know what the downside is? It’s that you’re also a hell of a peacock out on the battlefield, and trust me, you never want to be a peacock out on a battlefield, especially against the army of the greatest military kingdom of the world, besides yours, of course.
“I could use some help here!” I yell out to my companions on the ground, urging them to pay more attention to our bow armed enemies taking scarily close shots at me. Seeing as how I’m taking out half of their foes, I find it terribly rude that they’re not returning the favour.
“Oh fuck off, mechanical marksman! We’re kind of dealing with some shit over here, too!” My favourite red haired associate, Ronan, screeches at me as he majestically clubs an opponent to death with the blunt of his sword. I’m not exactly an expert on that type of weapon, but I don’t think that’s how your supposed to use it.
“I’m sorry Minthe! I can’t help either, you’re gonna have to fight on your own!” My politer comrade, Asa, yells as he throws another wave of magic at his rivals. Knocking about 50 back into their brethren meant to bolster their numbers about a football field away.
I sighed, reloading my firearm as quickly as I could, looks like I was on my own; as always. | Known as the mighty Flash Warrior of the North, I readied my revolver. I knew I had to conserve my decent ammo for the nightmare at the top of the tower. However, I had enough bullets to deal with all its goons on my own. So all I did to prepare was put on my goggles, and get ready to save my home.
The first floor was full to the brim with little 'Brain Suckles'. These tiny little jellyfish things, that cause violent pain and start controlling your body if they see you. But with a few well-executed shots, none of the remaining foes dared mess with me. I went up the ladder to the next floor.
Didn't expect to come across two dragons. Upon closer inspection, I was dealing with an ice dragon and a fire dragon. They never got to show that off, however. One shot with the Colt Python in my hand was enough to kill the ice one, and two was enough for the fire one. Moving the bodies away, I head up to the next floor.
Oh geez. This tower looked way taller on the outside. But here I was, standing supposedly face-to-face with a circular, 9-foot tall demon with rainbow eyes and protruding tentacles. Boasting a wide, toothy grin, it lashed out at me. Thinking quick, I pulled out the revolver and shot it. The place where I expected it to scream out in agony never stopped smiling, and instead the bottom part opened up, revealing sticky flesh and a floating blue orb inside. Sensing my chance, I pulled out my secret weapon: The Shotgun. With one swift shot to what seemed to be its weak point, the cosmic being cried out in terror, when it suddenly changed colors. All the blue turned to yellow, all the white turned to red. Attacking me with powerful spells, it closed its mouth and returned to the form I used to know. I, however, was getting tired of the fight and used my weapon the way it was designed to be used: with rapid-fire. This eldritch being stood no chance against the powerful incendiary rains of metal that violently shot from my weapon. And the rest... is history. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | I didn't want to be here. I miss my shitty apartment, my trash-ass Toyota Corolla, my minimum-wage job that barely paid the bills. I miss my bitchy neighbors, my pets that shit on the floor every fucking day no matter what I did. The perpetual pillar of filth and squalor which grew in my kitchen week after week as I neglected to clean dishes.
I miss being a ***loser***.
The only reason I HAVE the shotgun is because I was ready to paint my bathroom walls with my brains. I'd never even used a gun before. But in a flash I was on a mideval battlefield with some fancy asshole on a horse swinging a longsword at me. Honestly, it's still a blur... in a hot second I was standing over the corpse of a king as his army tore ass away in terror.
The following months were surreal. All of the fame and adulation I always wished for. Blowjobs on tap from chicks miles out of my league, the finest fabrics and liquor in the known realm, my own fucking CASTLE... and all I've had to do is rack the fucking shotgun a handful of times. Imagine walking down the street and just being given a roasted turkey leg. On top of the world, right?
Wrong.
Everyone... everything... reeks. There's no toilet paper. No handsoap. No electricity. No running water. No toothbrushes. EVERYTHING IS FILTHY. My favorite concubine died a few days ago, and my wisest advisors are saying it's because she didn't honor god appropriately. This shit sucks. I live in perpetual fear of cholera; only ossasionally does that terror get supplanted by the knowledge that I have but one more shell for the boomstick. I'm vaguely aware that there is gunpowder available in "the orient" but all of the expeditions I've sent to find it have gone missing.
I would trade all of this in a fucking heartbeat to get some fast food and shitpost on the internet. I miss my life of quiet desperation. Ten thousand days of financial strangulation are better than perpetually wondering if today is the day that you get heartworms or tuberculosis or some other shit that medical science could easily solve. | I was sunk into my own thoughts. You would think my mind would be focused on the friggin mission, but all I could think about was her. Her body floods my mind with longing and desire, but then my imagination teases me with just a flash of her smile, and I picture her laugh, I would go through hell just to hold her close to me again, knowing how long this mission will feel for me, I have this shitty feeling where my heart may or may not be.
​
Emotional and slightly aroused from the mental images of Renae, as tears stream down my cheek, making me look like a little bitch, I literally shake my head. I picture throwing my thoughts into a box and tossing them to the left...to the left, to the left, everything you own in a box to the left... wait wtf. Stupid brain. I scan the room, I think to myself; what the fuck are we waiting for, Im so bored, Id rather watch twilight with my wife, at least then I can make fun of the sparkly vampires. I wish we were allowed phones in these tOp SeCrEt MeEtInGs...
​
After what felt like an eternity Commander Bewique stepped up to the shitty little podium that looks like a beaver would reject it. Once he had more thoroughly cleared his throat than anyone else ever, \*Good evening\* said the commander in the most boring monotone voice I have ever heard. \*Tonight you will do what was once thought impossible; you will travel through time.\*
​
Apparently Captain Veegahn was a bit nervous because he passed the fuck out right there in the briefing, what a pussy. I chuckled to myself, with immense dread in my gut. After turning on a holographic slideshow that looks like a sixth grader made it; on screen were pictures of two men. \*Two time criminals have travelled back in time to the March 2nd, 1872. They have obtained historical documents indicating the locations of every gold mine in the world, they intend to mine it and return it to the present. What these two morons failed to ascertain was that by doing so, they would change the history of the world in the most DAMAGING ways possible. Your mission, is to travel back to March 1st, 1872 and then ambush, capture or kill them, before they get their hands on one ounce of gold. I will take your questions now.\*
​
\*Sir\* requested Captain Brownnoser, I mean Bronson, the commander gave a nod. \*Do you really think it is necessary to have thirty, I mean twenty-nine agents on this mission\* \*We are not taking any chances with this one, this is the most important mission I have ever been apart of in my thirty-seven year career. There WILL be thirty agents on this mission, I will go with you\* That sentence made everyone in the room suddenly look nervous, you cant even blame them, that guy is old as fuck. I wish we could skip to the details already. \*As our current capability for time travel is limited to five people at once, we will be going in teams of six, each team will have a Core unit\* If Commander Grandpa coming with didnt shock everyone, the fact that each team is getting its own core unit sure did, those things are so fricken expensive, I always feel like I should wash my hands before touching those things.
​
\*Teams one, two and three will wear standard unit apparel, you will be running support for this mission, cloaks engaged at all times. Teams four through six will be dressed in time appropriate apparel and gear, only your AI implants will be allowed during this mission, no other moden tech.\* Ohhhh fuuuuuck, that is going to suck so much ass. Weapons from the 2000s are shitty enough, but the 1800s, yikes bro. I could really go for some THC and take out right now, ohhh fuck theres no takeout of weed in the 1800s, I am so fucked. \*DILLON!\* \*What\* I look around like a fucking moron, \*Oh sorry sir\* \*Pay attention!\* \*Yes sir, will do sir!\*
​
The Commander talked for another fourty minutes, I vaguely caught some words here are there, just enough to let me know the neatly typed up briefing that doesnt require a boring ass meeting; was what he was reading verbatim without any extra information. I tried paying attention but its hard when the person speaking has less emotion in their voice than a fucking robot.
​
Im not sure why we were rushing, the commander wanted us to go as soon as humanly possible, but we will still get there at the same time no matter how long we wait to leave so...\*You ship out in one hour\* What does he mean ship out, we dont even need to leave the building, fuckin moron.
​
We were all standing in the machine, waiting to get launched through time with the force of three Super-mans. As my pod door began to close I noticed someone odd, something was off about his uniform, \*Its the time criminal!\* I shouted as loud as I could while pointing at him, but the pod door was closed, one of the lab technicians turned to see what I pointed at, and began shouting and pointing, the guards in the room started all noticed him at this point and began to approach with their guns on their sidearms, he shouted something I couldnt make out, just as my pod began to whir into action, there was a bright light that hit me like a flash-bang grenade, just as the explosion began to follow the light I was launched into the time stream, I usually love this part, but this time I just felt trapped on a ride I didnt want to be on. All those people, dead, all the technology to bring me back, gone. The commander will know what to do, stop being a pussy John, you have a mission to complete.
​
My pod hit the ground far less gracefully than ever before, the bomb must have affected the velocity of the time launch, fuck. I nervously start to look around for signs of my time, or hell where are the crew. I realize I have an AI in my head. Fuckin brain. \*Alfonze, please wake up\* I felt the ice cool sensation of the heatsink my head working to keep the temperature of the AI low enough to not fry my brain, what a fun people we are. Alfonze can not be active during a time launch, or it would fry his system, and mine. \*Good morning Captain Dillon\* \*Good morning, could you please tell me what year I am in\* \*Of course Captin, scanning...there does not appear to be any electrical signatures, would you like me to launch probes\* \*No can do Alf\* I said distractedly scanning my surroundings for hints of danger \*Perhaps if we sought higher ground I could perform a scan through your retinal cameras\* \*Sounds like a plan, but I need look for the crew\* \*A scan from high ground would have a side affect of scanning the area for clues\* After thinking for a moment, mostly about Renae, I said \*Fine, lets get going\* I grab my double barrel shotgun, strap on my unlimited shotgun shell bag, well its only technically unlimited, you have to feed it aggregates and biomass for it to generate ammunition.
​
After marching through dark woods for an hour, I got to the base of a small mountain, it took another hour to reach a decent scanning height \*Thats high enough Captain\* \*Oh nice, I needed a break\* \*You may sit, but please aim your retina at the valley below and the sky above\* \*No problem Alf\* After a brief scan and some calcuations, Alfonze reported; \*It appears we have landed six hundred years earlier than planned, we are in the year one thousand, two hundred, seventy two.\*
​
\*Aw Faaaack!\* Like and send cat pics for part two. Apologies for the weird format, my keyboard is stuck on canadian french and when i do question marks or apostrophies it looks like this É. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | I didn't want to be here. I miss my shitty apartment, my trash-ass Toyota Corolla, my minimum-wage job that barely paid the bills. I miss my bitchy neighbors, my pets that shit on the floor every fucking day no matter what I did. The perpetual pillar of filth and squalor which grew in my kitchen week after week as I neglected to clean dishes.
I miss being a ***loser***.
The only reason I HAVE the shotgun is because I was ready to paint my bathroom walls with my brains. I'd never even used a gun before. But in a flash I was on a mideval battlefield with some fancy asshole on a horse swinging a longsword at me. Honestly, it's still a blur... in a hot second I was standing over the corpse of a king as his army tore ass away in terror.
The following months were surreal. All of the fame and adulation I always wished for. Blowjobs on tap from chicks miles out of my league, the finest fabrics and liquor in the known realm, my own fucking CASTLE... and all I've had to do is rack the fucking shotgun a handful of times. Imagine walking down the street and just being given a roasted turkey leg. On top of the world, right?
Wrong.
Everyone... everything... reeks. There's no toilet paper. No handsoap. No electricity. No running water. No toothbrushes. EVERYTHING IS FILTHY. My favorite concubine died a few days ago, and my wisest advisors are saying it's because she didn't honor god appropriately. This shit sucks. I live in perpetual fear of cholera; only ossasionally does that terror get supplanted by the knowledge that I have but one more shell for the boomstick. I'm vaguely aware that there is gunpowder available in "the orient" but all of the expeditions I've sent to find it have gone missing.
I would trade all of this in a fucking heartbeat to get some fast food and shitpost on the internet. I miss my life of quiet desperation. Ten thousand days of financial strangulation are better than perpetually wondering if today is the day that you get heartworms or tuberculosis or some other shit that medical science could easily solve. | As I walked through the battlefield, my foes fleeing from this great weapon. I turn to meet a knight, shining dark armour. Different . . . Different from all the rest. It seemed as if he was fearless? Why wasn't he scared? I seemed puzzled to ask but soon he'd be closing near. I stopped thinking to myself and reloaded my gun. As I looked up everything went dark.
When I opened my bloodied eyes, I seemed to meet the gaze of the knight in shining dark armour. As he helped me up
"Why didn't you kill me?" I asked eagerly.
"Why would I?"
"That doesn't answer my question." I said, growing angry.
"Isn't it obvious? You time traveled out of our current year, even though our boss told you to not go near it, you still did."
He must've seen my cautious and confused expression, he continued to explain.
"You're a freed test subject Noah, we allowed you to venture about through the lab as we gathered your things to let you free,we then hired you after you accidentally made the time machine."
"Test subject . . . Time machine . . .? This doesn't make any sense, I was born here, raised at most?"
As I muttered these last words to him he seemed to go pale. He reached into his pocket and grabbed this object, a Sphaera meridiem(glow sphere) something only Witches could make,made a circular motion with one hand and grabbed mines. From what I've seen, he's made a transparent shape that shows a bright light on the other side. As we made way into this realm, a wave of nausea came. He led me to a room with a bed and a bunch of unknown objects.
"Wait here, I'll be back with some food and a couple of people" He said, seemingly freaked out about the entire thing.
"You can't just leave me in this unknown territory! Where are you going?"
SLAM
The door slammed shut. I walked about the room, furious about him not answering my question I walked to the bed and sat. A few minutes later He came back,changed into white clothing, and a tray of food. He sat them next to me and ran out before I could blink.
(Tbc)
P.S. this is my first ever story, please comment on anything I need to improve :D
[PART 2]
When I picked up the metal object next to what seemed to be liquid food in a bowl, I dip down my head to taste it.
"Yuck! What's in that?!?" While I knocked off the tray.
"Where is your manners young man!??" As an old gray haired doctor came in.
I flushed with red when the old man came in. I'd have to assume he's here for--
"HELLO??? God I swear this kid gets more deteriorated every moment."
"Ah, hello?" I said as my face flushed with red once more
"I hope you won't mind, we'll be running some tests to see what has happened with you. No questions must be asked as everything will be answered after." The old man said in a very loud manner.
"So how does these "tests" go?" I asked getting increasingly annoyed.
"No questions asked! Please take this dose of medicine and lay down, I'll be back." The old man said as he placed down a mini cup and walked out.
"Great." I mumbled as I took the dose of medicine and laid down.
When I laid there, it felt like hours. Even though by the minute I was getting more & more drowsy than the last. I began to close my eyes, fearing the worst might come while I was here. The door opened as the smallest beings came near me. I then blacked out.
____1hr later _____
"Do you think he'll be alright Dr.Kelimin?" Lora asked seemingly worried.
"Well if you'd give me a few more minutes I can tell you the result of his aura test." Dr. Kelimin said as he stroked his gray beard.
"Aura test? Are you saying he gained pia potestates(godly like magic) from that short trip there and back?" said Kolin as he cleaned the food he gave Noah.
"It wasn't a short time for Noah, it seemed to be if his time there was longer than expected and actually made him older. Around 10 years at most. He should be around 25 for us, but in the other realm he was 30. Also, what do you expect? With the new 'Government' and that shot they forced us to take everyone has an aura or some minor potestates." Exclaimed Dr.Kelimin as he gathered information from the test scan.
(Quick explanation, Noah was 18 when he became the test subject, and when he got hired.
In the medieval realm he was considered 30.
Now that he's back in his normal world he is 25 since he was 21 when he made the time machine and went in,it has been 3 years)
"So he will be fine?" Asked Lora growing impatient by the minute. She was Noah's soon-to-be wife a ginger headed girl. If he remembered her at least.
"Well, bad news and good news, he's fine, but-"
A loud screeching noise was heard then a sudden "BANG!" Came from the cafeteria.
A scientist came running into the room and shut the door quickly. They were sweating and their clothes was torn. They were bloody as if they've been attacked.
"Dr.Kelimin! A test subject has gotten loose and went feral!"
"Classifications please nurse Kelly, and calm down." Dr.Kelimin said trying not to freak the others out.
"Test subject 095, classified as a Alermin the most dangerous on the scale Doc!" Kelly breathed out as she wiped blood and sweat off of her face, staining her hands and what was left of her lab coat.
"Goodness, this outbreak might be worse than I thought, do you have your communicator on?" Dr.Kelimin turned to ask Kolin.
"Yes, I do." Kolin replied
"Right, then call the Ai soldiers and set them in front of our MOR, we can't let subject 095 breach anything more dangerous."
"Got it." Kolin replied obidently and set foot to the nearby computers.
"Nurse Kelly, I need you to go recruit Dr.Milton, bring him here, then get everyone in this room out of here." Dr.Kelimin said as he pulled a lever underneath the bed.
As soon as he did this I seemed to gain consciousness.
"Hm..? What's happening?" I said as I sat up to glance around the room, rubbing my weary eyes.
I looked up to the room being emptied and a ginger haired girl, the only person in the room, pulled out a weapon that seemed to look like mine, and turned around to face me.
Knowing what it does I tried to get up.
BANG!
I opened my eyes to see the black knight, helping me back up.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Wiping sweat and blood off my eyes.
"Why would I?"
THE END
P.s imma deffo do more of these WP's | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | There are many stories of wicked wizards and deceitful casters tricking honest warriors into accepting a deal that ultimately spells their doom.
The wizard had told Briar he'd stand above the common knight, that he'd without a doubt win this year's tournament.
And in Briar's case, the wizard hadn't lied.
BAM
The weapon cracked with a gleeful shout, and suddenly an 18mm hole appeared in his opponent's plate helm and the skull behind. Quick as a whip, Briar slotted another one of the "arrows," or as the wizard called them, "slugs," into the magic item.
Though he didn't understand how there was anything slow about this device.
The crowd, at this point used to Briar's unusual weapon, let out half-hearted applause. Unsurprising considering the match lasted all of a second.
No matter; Briar wasn't here to woo the crowd. He had only one goal.
Restore his family's honour and position at all costs.
He turned on his heel and marched back to the competitors' area. As he walked, he turned his head upward and looked into the royal box. There the second prince sat chatting amiably with the king.
The fury Briar had been building for nearly a year stoked even brighter.
When he won this tournament, that demon would be brought to justice.
He took his seat and a long pull from his waterskin.
"Jacob!" His friend and fellow competitor Varith shouted while sitting next to him.
"I know magic and magic items are allowed here, but you could at least make a show of it."
He graced his friend with a grunt in response.
"Also, look at your opponent. Making the healers use resurrection spells every time you fight isn't endearing you to them," Varith said.
"I won't need to meet the healers," Briar responded.
Varith just sighed.
"Just look out for yourself, Jacob. I wouldn't be surprised if a sore loser decided to take some unchivalrous action".
He nodded, and Jacob stood readying for his own duel.
A good friend, but Briar needed to make a show of this and not the kind the crowd was looking for.
\*\*\*\*
The tournament progressed as it had so far. No armour, shield, nor magical barrier could stop the sheer power of the weapon. He was unstoppable.
Until the officials made an announcement.
"We have a surprise announcement! Before the semi-finals, the contestants will be undergoing a special round!"
It seemed the prince was desperate. He knew that Briar was coming for him. That thought made Briar split into a wide grin.
"Multiple opponent combat! Three-on-one! Previously eliminated competitors have the chance to engage the current semi-finalists and, depending on their performance, earn their place back into the tournament!"
He grunted. What a sham. They were barely hiding it at this point.
"For the first match, Sir Briar vs The honourable knights' Sir Galahad, Sir John and Sir Savim."
Briar stepped out onto the area floor, readying his weapon. His three opponents laid out in a roughly triangular formation.
Three on one, good a fair fight then.
The fools must have thought his weapon's main power was its armour-piercing capability, so they'd switched to gambesons and padded armour instead of plate, likely to increase their speed.
Fools.
Briar chambered the buckshot.
The bell rang, and Briar took aim.
It had taken a great deal of training to use this weapon to its fullest power, learning not only to aim but reload the weapon quickly during combat. This training truly paid off now.
BANG BANG
Two shots ringed out, peppering his opponents in buckshot.
Shouts of dismay and pain rang out.
Click Click Clunk
Before his opponents could react, he'd loaded two more of the "buckshot" into the device and slammed it closed.
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
And just like that Briar stood alone in the arena.
\*\*\*\*
Unfortunately for the prince, the other semi-finalists couldn't face three opponents simultaneously. Making Briar the undisputed champion. The prince had bet everything on Briar, losing the multiple-opponent battle.
What a sham.
While Briar made everyone look weak in comparison, These were the most elite knights in the kingdom. If not for his range and raw power Briar would never have managed three opponents.
But none of that mattered; the time had come.
Briar kneeled on the arena floor, his head bowed as the king spoke down from the royal box.
"Jacob Briar, for your exceptional performance in this competition, I grant you a boon, ask what you may, and I will grant it."
Briar lifted his head and met the gaze of the prince standing next to his father.
"Your majesty, I wish to ask the second prince a question, under truth-telling magic and with witnesses."
"And what question would that be?" The king demanded with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Who truly killed the first prince and previous heir to the throne. The same heir who was under guard by the Briar family. Which took the blame for his death". | As I walked through the battlefield, my foes fleeing from this great weapon. I turn to meet a knight, shining dark armour. Different . . . Different from all the rest. It seemed as if he was fearless? Why wasn't he scared? I seemed puzzled to ask but soon he'd be closing near. I stopped thinking to myself and reloaded my gun. As I looked up everything went dark.
When I opened my bloodied eyes, I seemed to meet the gaze of the knight in shining dark armour. As he helped me up
"Why didn't you kill me?" I asked eagerly.
"Why would I?"
"That doesn't answer my question." I said, growing angry.
"Isn't it obvious? You time traveled out of our current year, even though our boss told you to not go near it, you still did."
He must've seen my cautious and confused expression, he continued to explain.
"You're a freed test subject Noah, we allowed you to venture about through the lab as we gathered your things to let you free,we then hired you after you accidentally made the time machine."
"Test subject . . . Time machine . . .? This doesn't make any sense, I was born here, raised at most?"
As I muttered these last words to him he seemed to go pale. He reached into his pocket and grabbed this object, a Sphaera meridiem(glow sphere) something only Witches could make,made a circular motion with one hand and grabbed mines. From what I've seen, he's made a transparent shape that shows a bright light on the other side. As we made way into this realm, a wave of nausea came. He led me to a room with a bed and a bunch of unknown objects.
"Wait here, I'll be back with some food and a couple of people" He said, seemingly freaked out about the entire thing.
"You can't just leave me in this unknown territory! Where are you going?"
SLAM
The door slammed shut. I walked about the room, furious about him not answering my question I walked to the bed and sat. A few minutes later He came back,changed into white clothing, and a tray of food. He sat them next to me and ran out before I could blink.
(Tbc)
P.S. this is my first ever story, please comment on anything I need to improve :D
[PART 2]
When I picked up the metal object next to what seemed to be liquid food in a bowl, I dip down my head to taste it.
"Yuck! What's in that?!?" While I knocked off the tray.
"Where is your manners young man!??" As an old gray haired doctor came in.
I flushed with red when the old man came in. I'd have to assume he's here for--
"HELLO??? God I swear this kid gets more deteriorated every moment."
"Ah, hello?" I said as my face flushed with red once more
"I hope you won't mind, we'll be running some tests to see what has happened with you. No questions must be asked as everything will be answered after." The old man said in a very loud manner.
"So how does these "tests" go?" I asked getting increasingly annoyed.
"No questions asked! Please take this dose of medicine and lay down, I'll be back." The old man said as he placed down a mini cup and walked out.
"Great." I mumbled as I took the dose of medicine and laid down.
When I laid there, it felt like hours. Even though by the minute I was getting more & more drowsy than the last. I began to close my eyes, fearing the worst might come while I was here. The door opened as the smallest beings came near me. I then blacked out.
____1hr later _____
"Do you think he'll be alright Dr.Kelimin?" Lora asked seemingly worried.
"Well if you'd give me a few more minutes I can tell you the result of his aura test." Dr. Kelimin said as he stroked his gray beard.
"Aura test? Are you saying he gained pia potestates(godly like magic) from that short trip there and back?" said Kolin as he cleaned the food he gave Noah.
"It wasn't a short time for Noah, it seemed to be if his time there was longer than expected and actually made him older. Around 10 years at most. He should be around 25 for us, but in the other realm he was 30. Also, what do you expect? With the new 'Government' and that shot they forced us to take everyone has an aura or some minor potestates." Exclaimed Dr.Kelimin as he gathered information from the test scan.
(Quick explanation, Noah was 18 when he became the test subject, and when he got hired.
In the medieval realm he was considered 30.
Now that he's back in his normal world he is 25 since he was 21 when he made the time machine and went in,it has been 3 years)
"So he will be fine?" Asked Lora growing impatient by the minute. She was Noah's soon-to-be wife a ginger headed girl. If he remembered her at least.
"Well, bad news and good news, he's fine, but-"
A loud screeching noise was heard then a sudden "BANG!" Came from the cafeteria.
A scientist came running into the room and shut the door quickly. They were sweating and their clothes was torn. They were bloody as if they've been attacked.
"Dr.Kelimin! A test subject has gotten loose and went feral!"
"Classifications please nurse Kelly, and calm down." Dr.Kelimin said trying not to freak the others out.
"Test subject 095, classified as a Alermin the most dangerous on the scale Doc!" Kelly breathed out as she wiped blood and sweat off of her face, staining her hands and what was left of her lab coat.
"Goodness, this outbreak might be worse than I thought, do you have your communicator on?" Dr.Kelimin turned to ask Kolin.
"Yes, I do." Kolin replied
"Right, then call the Ai soldiers and set them in front of our MOR, we can't let subject 095 breach anything more dangerous."
"Got it." Kolin replied obidently and set foot to the nearby computers.
"Nurse Kelly, I need you to go recruit Dr.Milton, bring him here, then get everyone in this room out of here." Dr.Kelimin said as he pulled a lever underneath the bed.
As soon as he did this I seemed to gain consciousness.
"Hm..? What's happening?" I said as I sat up to glance around the room, rubbing my weary eyes.
I looked up to the room being emptied and a ginger haired girl, the only person in the room, pulled out a weapon that seemed to look like mine, and turned around to face me.
Knowing what it does I tried to get up.
BANG!
I opened my eyes to see the black knight, helping me back up.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Wiping sweat and blood off my eyes.
"Why would I?"
THE END
P.s imma deffo do more of these WP's | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | There are many stories of wicked wizards and deceitful casters tricking honest warriors into accepting a deal that ultimately spells their doom.
The wizard had told Briar he'd stand above the common knight, that he'd without a doubt win this year's tournament.
And in Briar's case, the wizard hadn't lied.
BAM
The weapon cracked with a gleeful shout, and suddenly an 18mm hole appeared in his opponent's plate helm and the skull behind. Quick as a whip, Briar slotted another one of the "arrows," or as the wizard called them, "slugs," into the magic item.
Though he didn't understand how there was anything slow about this device.
The crowd, at this point used to Briar's unusual weapon, let out half-hearted applause. Unsurprising considering the match lasted all of a second.
No matter; Briar wasn't here to woo the crowd. He had only one goal.
Restore his family's honour and position at all costs.
He turned on his heel and marched back to the competitors' area. As he walked, he turned his head upward and looked into the royal box. There the second prince sat chatting amiably with the king.
The fury Briar had been building for nearly a year stoked even brighter.
When he won this tournament, that demon would be brought to justice.
He took his seat and a long pull from his waterskin.
"Jacob!" His friend and fellow competitor Varith shouted while sitting next to him.
"I know magic and magic items are allowed here, but you could at least make a show of it."
He graced his friend with a grunt in response.
"Also, look at your opponent. Making the healers use resurrection spells every time you fight isn't endearing you to them," Varith said.
"I won't need to meet the healers," Briar responded.
Varith just sighed.
"Just look out for yourself, Jacob. I wouldn't be surprised if a sore loser decided to take some unchivalrous action".
He nodded, and Jacob stood readying for his own duel.
A good friend, but Briar needed to make a show of this and not the kind the crowd was looking for.
\*\*\*\*
The tournament progressed as it had so far. No armour, shield, nor magical barrier could stop the sheer power of the weapon. He was unstoppable.
Until the officials made an announcement.
"We have a surprise announcement! Before the semi-finals, the contestants will be undergoing a special round!"
It seemed the prince was desperate. He knew that Briar was coming for him. That thought made Briar split into a wide grin.
"Multiple opponent combat! Three-on-one! Previously eliminated competitors have the chance to engage the current semi-finalists and, depending on their performance, earn their place back into the tournament!"
He grunted. What a sham. They were barely hiding it at this point.
"For the first match, Sir Briar vs The honourable knights' Sir Galahad, Sir John and Sir Savim."
Briar stepped out onto the area floor, readying his weapon. His three opponents laid out in a roughly triangular formation.
Three on one, good a fair fight then.
The fools must have thought his weapon's main power was its armour-piercing capability, so they'd switched to gambesons and padded armour instead of plate, likely to increase their speed.
Fools.
Briar chambered the buckshot.
The bell rang, and Briar took aim.
It had taken a great deal of training to use this weapon to its fullest power, learning not only to aim but reload the weapon quickly during combat. This training truly paid off now.
BANG BANG
Two shots ringed out, peppering his opponents in buckshot.
Shouts of dismay and pain rang out.
Click Click Clunk
Before his opponents could react, he'd loaded two more of the "buckshot" into the device and slammed it closed.
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
And just like that Briar stood alone in the arena.
\*\*\*\*
Unfortunately for the prince, the other semi-finalists couldn't face three opponents simultaneously. Making Briar the undisputed champion. The prince had bet everything on Briar, losing the multiple-opponent battle.
What a sham.
While Briar made everyone look weak in comparison, These were the most elite knights in the kingdom. If not for his range and raw power Briar would never have managed three opponents.
But none of that mattered; the time had come.
Briar kneeled on the arena floor, his head bowed as the king spoke down from the royal box.
"Jacob Briar, for your exceptional performance in this competition, I grant you a boon, ask what you may, and I will grant it."
Briar lifted his head and met the gaze of the prince standing next to his father.
"Your majesty, I wish to ask the second prince a question, under truth-telling magic and with witnesses."
"And what question would that be?" The king demanded with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Who truly killed the first prince and previous heir to the throne. The same heir who was under guard by the Briar family. Which took the blame for his death". | “Bartender, more ale for my brethren. A mighty battle has been won today.”
“You all have shown great strength and loyalty to our town. I am proud to have you in my bar. The first round is on the house. I will go ahead then, and stop gushing over your deeds.”
I sat with my fellow knights, proud and sure of ourselves. I had great respect for each of them, though I felt great admiration for these honorable men of the sword.
“A drink to you, mighty Sir Adrian. You have saved us twice over this day.”
I bowed my head and swung out my arm to accept the toast. My armament shotgun was considered magical, and more than that, it wasn’t a common weapon. It was of dwarvish design, and it hid within a specially designed cloak.
“Too kind, Sir Thomas. You also have fought well this day. If not for you, I would not be standing. Your sword stopped a nearly deadly swing. I would have remained on that battlefield, buried deep.”
Sir Warren spoke up, “Yes you kept our great marksman alive. Though he could use a bit of caution the next time we see explosives on their side. You made quite the mess, but it was pretty."
Sir Thomas grinned with a bit of sadness. Any of us were ready to die for the cause of law and order in the kingdom. We had lost only a few brethren in our time, but those we mourned in that moment.
I raised my glass for a toast.
“In remembrance of the fallen knights. May they now have peace, and may we always remember their sacrifice.”
A cold freeze could be felt as the door swiftly opened, allowing a group of cloaked strangers to approach the bartender. With a swift movement, the leader removed his hood. The group followed in action.
A glint of the fireplace showed that these men were armed and wore chainmail. The shadowy group paused in their steps, and I could sense that the leader of the group glanced quickly toward us.
The air became thick with tension as my limited view of the bar now focused on us.
There was something about the leader. A type of smoke or darkness followed in his wake. That was it. A demon hunter.
I looked around our table. Each knight appeared calm, but each was at high alert. We had all been trained well by our high commander, but this was not the usual battlefield.
I hoped that no violence would occur. Not with so many bystanders that could be injured. I glanced toward SirWarren, a master of blabbing.
Sir Warren stood up, approaching the more populated portion of the bar. And in a calm voice, started encouraging the crowd to disperse before any fight would begin. Many listened, but a few refused.
Just as the last couple left through the exit, the leader of the shadowy group walked just past, and then around our table. Assuming they were going back, I glanced the other way. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw the demon hunter unsheathe his sword and swing at my head.
I fell onto the floor, attempting to get back up. I could hear the shuffling of armor and weapons now unsheathed in our group. Shouts of intimidation were shouted back and forth, and I readied myself for bloodshed.
Sir Warren had approached the enemy and used his blade to defend me. I jumped up, ready to defend. The shadowy group and their demon hunter leader now approached in a cohesive unit, catching us off-guard and visually unprepared.
I got to my feet, ready to defend my brethren knights. I spoke, sounding a bit defeated at first, but then smiled.
“You have my brethren surrounded. We appear to be at a disadvantage. But look around you."
The group looked at me and then around, then back to my fellow knights.
The leader spoke up.
“We’ll deal with this fool later. Pay attention if he approaches.”
Sir Warren answered the question not asked.
“He doesn’t have to approach.”
My fellow knights backed up, not for fear. For cover. I unsheathed my weapon.
“Do you know what this is? I’ve carried it around for many years, and have yet to be defeated in battle, or in a bar, as it is.”
A smile showed upon my face as I aimed my favorite gun, its sleek design only matched by its deadly nature.
I thought back to the great instructor who led our knights to victory. My only thoughts went back to his battle cry.
“This. is. My Boomstick!” | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | "I wish for eternal life blessed with everlasting youth, vigor, and soundness of mind" I said to the genie.
The genie raised his eyebrows. Many had made this wish before, and nearly all of them had fallen prey to it. The usual cause, however, was insanity. Rather than try to dissuade the old man, he decided to see where this would go. With a \*SNAP\* of his fingers, \*poof!\* The old man appeared to have shed a couple decades, stood straighter, and had a brightness in his eyes that had been vacant for quite some time.
"You have two wishes left".
"I wish for a sniper rifle that can fire bullets without needing to be reloaded" I then asked of the genie.
\*SNAP\* went the genie's fingers, and \*Poof!\*, a gleaming rifle appeared strapped to the man's back.
"You have one remaining wish, Human".
"I wish to be teleported to the middle ages" I said with my final wish.
The genie hesitated, while looking skeptically at the old man. It was not the genie's domain, however, to question the one making the wishes. With one final \*SNAP\* of his fingers, the man was gone.
\---
"STOP!" the boy shouted at his friend. "Don't go over there, haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?" asked the second boy, pausing while straddled atop the low cobblestone wall he was about to climb over.
"That's the wizard's territory. We're not supposed to go in there, or he'll kill us and grind our bones into potions!"
"That's absurd. That tale has been told in our village since my grandad's time, there's no way there's a wizard up in that tower" said the second boy, as he glanced at the tall structure in the middle of a clearing. The rumored "Wizard's Tower" had been there as long as anyone in the village could remember. Supposedly a mad wizard lived at the top of the tower, and would cast fireballs at anyone that entered his property uninvited.
"Well I'm not risking finding out!" said the first boy, as he turned away from his friend and started walking back toward the village. So intent was he in convincing his friend that he had not heard the sounds of marching feet and clinking armor, so when he turned around and strode face first into the first in a rank of knights he was caught off balance and fell backward.
"Are you ok, young one?" asked one of the knights, as he bent over to help the boy back up. The kid only nodded his head and looked at his friend, and the both of them ran off back to the village.
"Kids these days", said one of the other knights while shaking his head.
"You were like that once too, William!", laughed another knight.
The mirth was quick to come and quick to fade, as the order of knights all solemnly looked toward the tower. They had been ordered by their commander, who had received his orders from the king, to take this tower under the crown's control. The rumors of the wizard had reached the king's ear, and he was not one to take kindly to anyone who thought they could claim sovereignty within his domain.
The knights turned and began to climb the wall. As they dropped to the other side, not but a few steps from the wall a loud \*CRACK!\* rang out, deafening their ears and reverberating in their blood. They each felt a chill as they saw the flash of fire from the top of the tower, and then in horror as William keeled over and fell, blood pooling from under his armor and dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Before they could register what happened another \*CRACK!\* rang out, and another knight fell.
These were not your run of the mill knights however, this was the Order of the Golden Boar, and they were not known for cowardice. Together the remaining knights charged the tower. It was in vain. Time and again a loud \*CRACK!\* was heard, a flash of fire appeared from the top of the tower, and another knight fell. Only when the field behind was strewn with the corpses of his fellow knights did the sole survivor, Arthur, make it to the tower. With determination, rage, and not a small quantity of fear, he burst through the door and climbed the winding stair until he reached the top floor.
There the Wizard was waiting for him, Black Staff of Death held casually at his side, a pointed blue hat and flowing robes covering him. Though his face was shaded Arthur could still see the gleam in his eye, could feel the radiance of a man in his prime and accustomed to death. Yet Arthur would not yield, not after getting this far, not after his comrades sacrificed themselves to get him here.
And so as Arthur drew his sword, one final \*CRACK!\* pierced the sky and echoed throughout the town.
\---
OP, I know this doesn't quite follow the prompt but I've had the idea in my head for a while now about a time traveler that just wants to pretend to be a wizard. Thanks for the opportunity!
r/AdventuresOfYarro | The warrior got back on his feet, having been knocked off by the knight’s mystical weapon. His ears were ringing, amplified under the helmet. He tore it off his head, and brandished his blade. The knight watched him without so much as a hint of care. The warrior ran towards him, his sword raised above his head, letting out a guttural roar. A loud bang, similar to a crack of lightning, filled the air for a second, and was quickly replaced by the collective gasp of the crowd.
“Rest in pieces.” The knight said in a curt tone, and walked away. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | There are many stories of wicked wizards and deceitful casters tricking honest warriors into accepting a deal that ultimately spells their doom.
The wizard had told Briar he'd stand above the common knight, that he'd without a doubt win this year's tournament.
And in Briar's case, the wizard hadn't lied.
BAM
The weapon cracked with a gleeful shout, and suddenly an 18mm hole appeared in his opponent's plate helm and the skull behind. Quick as a whip, Briar slotted another one of the "arrows," or as the wizard called them, "slugs," into the magic item.
Though he didn't understand how there was anything slow about this device.
The crowd, at this point used to Briar's unusual weapon, let out half-hearted applause. Unsurprising considering the match lasted all of a second.
No matter; Briar wasn't here to woo the crowd. He had only one goal.
Restore his family's honour and position at all costs.
He turned on his heel and marched back to the competitors' area. As he walked, he turned his head upward and looked into the royal box. There the second prince sat chatting amiably with the king.
The fury Briar had been building for nearly a year stoked even brighter.
When he won this tournament, that demon would be brought to justice.
He took his seat and a long pull from his waterskin.
"Jacob!" His friend and fellow competitor Varith shouted while sitting next to him.
"I know magic and magic items are allowed here, but you could at least make a show of it."
He graced his friend with a grunt in response.
"Also, look at your opponent. Making the healers use resurrection spells every time you fight isn't endearing you to them," Varith said.
"I won't need to meet the healers," Briar responded.
Varith just sighed.
"Just look out for yourself, Jacob. I wouldn't be surprised if a sore loser decided to take some unchivalrous action".
He nodded, and Jacob stood readying for his own duel.
A good friend, but Briar needed to make a show of this and not the kind the crowd was looking for.
\*\*\*\*
The tournament progressed as it had so far. No armour, shield, nor magical barrier could stop the sheer power of the weapon. He was unstoppable.
Until the officials made an announcement.
"We have a surprise announcement! Before the semi-finals, the contestants will be undergoing a special round!"
It seemed the prince was desperate. He knew that Briar was coming for him. That thought made Briar split into a wide grin.
"Multiple opponent combat! Three-on-one! Previously eliminated competitors have the chance to engage the current semi-finalists and, depending on their performance, earn their place back into the tournament!"
He grunted. What a sham. They were barely hiding it at this point.
"For the first match, Sir Briar vs The honourable knights' Sir Galahad, Sir John and Sir Savim."
Briar stepped out onto the area floor, readying his weapon. His three opponents laid out in a roughly triangular formation.
Three on one, good a fair fight then.
The fools must have thought his weapon's main power was its armour-piercing capability, so they'd switched to gambesons and padded armour instead of plate, likely to increase their speed.
Fools.
Briar chambered the buckshot.
The bell rang, and Briar took aim.
It had taken a great deal of training to use this weapon to its fullest power, learning not only to aim but reload the weapon quickly during combat. This training truly paid off now.
BANG BANG
Two shots ringed out, peppering his opponents in buckshot.
Shouts of dismay and pain rang out.
Click Click Clunk
Before his opponents could react, he'd loaded two more of the "buckshot" into the device and slammed it closed.
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
And just like that Briar stood alone in the arena.
\*\*\*\*
Unfortunately for the prince, the other semi-finalists couldn't face three opponents simultaneously. Making Briar the undisputed champion. The prince had bet everything on Briar, losing the multiple-opponent battle.
What a sham.
While Briar made everyone look weak in comparison, These were the most elite knights in the kingdom. If not for his range and raw power Briar would never have managed three opponents.
But none of that mattered; the time had come.
Briar kneeled on the arena floor, his head bowed as the king spoke down from the royal box.
"Jacob Briar, for your exceptional performance in this competition, I grant you a boon, ask what you may, and I will grant it."
Briar lifted his head and met the gaze of the prince standing next to his father.
"Your majesty, I wish to ask the second prince a question, under truth-telling magic and with witnesses."
"And what question would that be?" The king demanded with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Who truly killed the first prince and previous heir to the throne. The same heir who was under guard by the Briar family. Which took the blame for his death". | The warrior got back on his feet, having been knocked off by the knight’s mystical weapon. His ears were ringing, amplified under the helmet. He tore it off his head, and brandished his blade. The knight watched him without so much as a hint of care. The warrior ran towards him, his sword raised above his head, letting out a guttural roar. A loud bang, similar to a crack of lightning, filled the air for a second, and was quickly replaced by the collective gasp of the crowd.
“Rest in pieces.” The knight said in a curt tone, and walked away. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | On the table beside my bed I tinkered with a variety of scrap metals: shavings from an axe, a strip of metal cut from a knights helm, and a small pile of bearings. The bearings seemed to work best in the shells, they were certainly the most easy to load anyways. I scooped up a mixed handful and shoved it down in that little red tube. That was the beauty of the shotgun (or Thunderstick if you're a local): it was so simple that it even made scraps deadly.
With my ammo ready I began donning my plated armor, on the chest displayed proudly was the knights crest: for most it appeared as an armored man kneeling with sword in hand, the tip buried in the ground. Mine was different however. A knight was on it, yes, but instead he carried the Thunderstick. And rather than kneel he stood tall amongst his kneeling comrades. Every other crest on every other knights chest could be any knight shown kneeling, but mine? Mine was inscribed with me.
Beyond the wooden doors of my chambers was war, was death, was an infinite circle of murder that I had somehow become known to be the best at. Little did they know that my power only lied in their ignorance. Anyone could use the Thunderstick, I was just the one lucky enough to find it first. I turned back to the woman still half buried under the blankets of my bed on the way out the door.
"I'll be back. You may leave whenever. Don't touch my things." I spoke through my helmet
She turned groggily and stiff and looked up to me, her eyes adjusting to both the sunlight blaring into the room and my new look.
"Alright Sir Moss, be safe! If you return then maybe so shall I". She gave a wink, and I was off.
I made my way to the field. The battle would start soon and if I was not there, well, it made things quite a bit more difficult for all of us. I still remember years ago at the Battle of Derry. The Thunderstick had not been working properly and instead I had to take up a sword. It felt so unnatural in my hands in the years since I'd used one. And then, a massacre followed. Men, my men slaughtered due to my own errors. But no, not today, today I brought enough for everyone. Today I ensured our victory.
Down the cobblestone halls the faces I passed stared up to me. I marched proudly, hands gripped to the wood etchings of the Thunderstick and displaying the row of shells strapped to my chest. As I moved forward I passed my fellow knights, lining the sides of the castle halls in stiff compliance. Each I moved by fell in line behind until we made up a small army marching forward in metallic unison.
We marched on until we reached the front doors, massive arched doors that needed ten men each to push through. The creaked open slowly, five men heaving on each side. Sunlight poured it, followed by the scent of crisp air. The cold of the snow. But further, further still passed the white expanse, we're the outlines of the enemy marching forward.
I turned to my men, who looked to me.
"This! This was given to me by the gods!" I held up the Thunderstick high. "Would the gods give me such a tool if they intended us to lose?"
*No!* the men shouted in unison, a few standing taller as I spoke to the sea of armor.
"So, if the gods are on our side...then how can we lose? The answer?: We cannot! Show the heathens at our gate that we are the chosen. Show the ungodly why we are here still!"
A roar of agreement from the crowd of men. Then we began our stand, lining in front if the castle walls, me at the front. I snapped the Thunderstick in half, triple checking the rounds I had loaded. My heartbeat thumped so loud the echo filled my armor. My breath felt heavy in my helmet. But the Thunderstick was comfort.
If only they'd known where I'd gotten the Thunderstick. Where I'd acquired the taste of godhood. Not from a god, but from a man, an ancestor he'd said.
*Take this. If not you end our bloodline here and now. I do not need you to be brave, or strong. But live, for us.*
I looked out to the field of enemies. They were nothing in the grand scheme. Just more bodies in an infinite sea. Just another forgettable moment in time.
Ripeth and Teareth, till its done. | The warrior got back on his feet, having been knocked off by the knight’s mystical weapon. His ears were ringing, amplified under the helmet. He tore it off his head, and brandished his blade. The knight watched him without so much as a hint of care. The warrior ran towards him, his sword raised above his head, letting out a guttural roar. A loud bang, similar to a crack of lightning, filled the air for a second, and was quickly replaced by the collective gasp of the crowd.
“Rest in pieces.” The knight said in a curt tone, and walked away. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | Brian Lyons carried his shotgun with the cockiness of an especially proud cock.
His right hand cradled the butt, and the rest of the scuffed, sooty gun slopped casually on his shoulder. He leaned back into his chair at the head of the round table, one leg plopped right on top of it.
“Verily,” the Knight of Sword, Esteel, spared a fearful glance at Brian, then shook her head. Her sword, Sunmaker, was an intricate weapon with red gemstones running along the straight scabbard, shone with an otherworldy golden gleam. Her equally golden hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, almost lighting up her plain grey training leathers merely by proxy. It was surprisingly casual for a knight who was generally decked out in full armour.
Such was the gravity of the situation. She placed a palm on the table, the other kneading her forehead.
“This might be the greatest threat to our kingdom.”
“Esteel,” a gruff voice spoke. It was attached to the Knight of Spear, Grangor. Even on this sweltering summer day, he was dressed entirely in furs, patchworked from all sorts of different animals. There was the tiger on one shoulder, a lion’s mane wrapping around his neck, and snakeskin running down his arms in gauntlets. It explained the wide berth most of the other knights gave him at the table. The spear, Roots, was a simple thing made entirely out of wood—even the spearhead. And yet, the very tip of it extended to so sharp a point that it would not be entirely incorrect to call it the point of infinity.
“It is of utmost importance that we swiftly cull this threat,” Grangor grunted. “I trust your expertise in leadership at this very moment, Knight of the Sword. Do what you have to do.”
Brian yawned, and pet the shotgun affectionately. He lifted his cloth tunic—drawing looks of disdain—and scratched his stomach as well.
“We must not act in haste,” the Knight of Shield said. Plish was a tall, thin, and young man, who looked entirely incapable of holding up the great tower shield strapped to his back. It was a monstrous thing made of black steel, a visage carved into its front that no one had quite figured out who—or what—it represented.
“Proper discussion is what drives our kingdom’s finest scholars,” Polish argued. “The same standard should be applied to its Knights. We are not savages.”
“Plish,” the Knight of the Bow began to speak—
“Holy fucking shit, you guys,” Brian slammed the shotgun down on the table, eliciting a small jump from everybody in the room. “Bloody hell, you people just yap and yap away. Esteel!”
The Knight of the Sword, yelped, and meekly replied: “Yes?”
“What the fuck is invading us?”
“We are not sure,” Esteel said. “We only know that is dangerous. Hence, we are taking caution with this preparatory meeting—”
“Goddamn,” Brian said. He stood up, and cocked his shotgun loudly. “Knight of Magic. Brand. Brund? Brond.”
“It’s Peter,” the Knight of Magic said. He hunched over the table, making his already small size even more disproportionate. His robes were a swirl of colours that ignored the real world, streaks of different hues swimming about aimlessly.
“I could’ve sworn it was Brond,” Brian said. “Anyway. Send me to the border. Wherever the thing is invading.”
Protests began to shoot up from the table, before Brian once again, and very deliberately, cocked his shotgun. The mechanical sound silenced all dissent.
He made the cocking sound again, a satisfied smirk on his face. It sounded better in a sea of silence.
“Adam,” he said, pointing to the Knight of Magic, who sighed.
“Sure,” Peter said, clasping his hands together, muttering under his breath. The colours began to seep into the surrounding air, like lazy swirls of smoke, before they suddenly coagulated. They shot towards Brian, wrapping him up in a vibrant cocoon—and then he was gone.
Brian closed his eyes, feeling the magic prickling his senses. Every bit of movement stopped, and Brian rapidly shuttered his eyes, knowing that was the way to quell any oncoming queasiness. The colour slipped off him like a dress, fading into the ground.
The Knight of Shotgun heard a loud roar. He opened his eyes to see a figure clad entirely in black armour. A distinctive helmet with two horns adorned the humanoid’s head, and red eyes glowed within.
“A Knight?” the armoured individual chuckled. “To think the Kingdom was so quickly desperate. Are you here to negotiate your surrender? If not—”
Brian fired, and a sound that resembled a crack of thunder rang out. Before the enemy could even react, Brian shot again.
Again.
And one more time, for good measure.
Smoke filled the air, before slowly dissipating to reveal his opponent standing there, missing most of their torso. Blood dripped from the freshly-made hole, and the black knight used one lethargic hand to feel the empty space.
“Duel,” the knight said, before the upper half of his body collapse backwards. The legs soon followed, splitting apart in two.
“Hasta la vista, baby,” the Knight of Shotgun said.
Brian pet his shotgun, nodding in satisfaction. He began whistling, horribly off-tune, and began the long trek back towards the palace.
---
r/dexdrafts | The warrior got back on his feet, having been knocked off by the knight’s mystical weapon. His ears were ringing, amplified under the helmet. He tore it off his head, and brandished his blade. The knight watched him without so much as a hint of care. The warrior ran towards him, his sword raised above his head, letting out a guttural roar. A loud bang, similar to a crack of lightning, filled the air for a second, and was quickly replaced by the collective gasp of the crowd.
“Rest in pieces.” The knight said in a curt tone, and walked away. | |
[WP] Among the ranks of the knights you are considered unstoppable. Unbeatable. The greatest warrior to have ever lived. Your secret is that you a unique weapon, one forged to send hails of burning lead at your foes... its a shotgun. You carry a shotgun. | There are many stories of wicked wizards and deceitful casters tricking honest warriors into accepting a deal that ultimately spells their doom.
The wizard had told Briar he'd stand above the common knight, that he'd without a doubt win this year's tournament.
And in Briar's case, the wizard hadn't lied.
BAM
The weapon cracked with a gleeful shout, and suddenly an 18mm hole appeared in his opponent's plate helm and the skull behind. Quick as a whip, Briar slotted another one of the "arrows," or as the wizard called them, "slugs," into the magic item.
Though he didn't understand how there was anything slow about this device.
The crowd, at this point used to Briar's unusual weapon, let out half-hearted applause. Unsurprising considering the match lasted all of a second.
No matter; Briar wasn't here to woo the crowd. He had only one goal.
Restore his family's honour and position at all costs.
He turned on his heel and marched back to the competitors' area. As he walked, he turned his head upward and looked into the royal box. There the second prince sat chatting amiably with the king.
The fury Briar had been building for nearly a year stoked even brighter.
When he won this tournament, that demon would be brought to justice.
He took his seat and a long pull from his waterskin.
"Jacob!" His friend and fellow competitor Varith shouted while sitting next to him.
"I know magic and magic items are allowed here, but you could at least make a show of it."
He graced his friend with a grunt in response.
"Also, look at your opponent. Making the healers use resurrection spells every time you fight isn't endearing you to them," Varith said.
"I won't need to meet the healers," Briar responded.
Varith just sighed.
"Just look out for yourself, Jacob. I wouldn't be surprised if a sore loser decided to take some unchivalrous action".
He nodded, and Jacob stood readying for his own duel.
A good friend, but Briar needed to make a show of this and not the kind the crowd was looking for.
\*\*\*\*
The tournament progressed as it had so far. No armour, shield, nor magical barrier could stop the sheer power of the weapon. He was unstoppable.
Until the officials made an announcement.
"We have a surprise announcement! Before the semi-finals, the contestants will be undergoing a special round!"
It seemed the prince was desperate. He knew that Briar was coming for him. That thought made Briar split into a wide grin.
"Multiple opponent combat! Three-on-one! Previously eliminated competitors have the chance to engage the current semi-finalists and, depending on their performance, earn their place back into the tournament!"
He grunted. What a sham. They were barely hiding it at this point.
"For the first match, Sir Briar vs The honourable knights' Sir Galahad, Sir John and Sir Savim."
Briar stepped out onto the area floor, readying his weapon. His three opponents laid out in a roughly triangular formation.
Three on one, good a fair fight then.
The fools must have thought his weapon's main power was its armour-piercing capability, so they'd switched to gambesons and padded armour instead of plate, likely to increase their speed.
Fools.
Briar chambered the buckshot.
The bell rang, and Briar took aim.
It had taken a great deal of training to use this weapon to its fullest power, learning not only to aim but reload the weapon quickly during combat. This training truly paid off now.
BANG BANG
Two shots ringed out, peppering his opponents in buckshot.
Shouts of dismay and pain rang out.
Click Click Clunk
Before his opponents could react, he'd loaded two more of the "buckshot" into the device and slammed it closed.
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
BANG BANG
Click Click Clunk
And just like that Briar stood alone in the arena.
\*\*\*\*
Unfortunately for the prince, the other semi-finalists couldn't face three opponents simultaneously. Making Briar the undisputed champion. The prince had bet everything on Briar, losing the multiple-opponent battle.
What a sham.
While Briar made everyone look weak in comparison, These were the most elite knights in the kingdom. If not for his range and raw power Briar would never have managed three opponents.
But none of that mattered; the time had come.
Briar kneeled on the arena floor, his head bowed as the king spoke down from the royal box.
"Jacob Briar, for your exceptional performance in this competition, I grant you a boon, ask what you may, and I will grant it."
Briar lifted his head and met the gaze of the prince standing next to his father.
"Your majesty, I wish to ask the second prince a question, under truth-telling magic and with witnesses."
"And what question would that be?" The king demanded with a hint of anger in his voice.
"Who truly killed the first prince and previous heir to the throne. The same heir who was under guard by the Briar family. Which took the blame for his death". | "I wish for eternal life blessed with everlasting youth, vigor, and soundness of mind" I said to the genie.
The genie raised his eyebrows. Many had made this wish before, and nearly all of them had fallen prey to it. The usual cause, however, was insanity. Rather than try to dissuade the old man, he decided to see where this would go. With a \*SNAP\* of his fingers, \*poof!\* The old man appeared to have shed a couple decades, stood straighter, and had a brightness in his eyes that had been vacant for quite some time.
"You have two wishes left".
"I wish for a sniper rifle that can fire bullets without needing to be reloaded" I then asked of the genie.
\*SNAP\* went the genie's fingers, and \*Poof!\*, a gleaming rifle appeared strapped to the man's back.
"You have one remaining wish, Human".
"I wish to be teleported to the middle ages" I said with my final wish.
The genie hesitated, while looking skeptically at the old man. It was not the genie's domain, however, to question the one making the wishes. With one final \*SNAP\* of his fingers, the man was gone.
\---
"STOP!" the boy shouted at his friend. "Don't go over there, haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?" asked the second boy, pausing while straddled atop the low cobblestone wall he was about to climb over.
"That's the wizard's territory. We're not supposed to go in there, or he'll kill us and grind our bones into potions!"
"That's absurd. That tale has been told in our village since my grandad's time, there's no way there's a wizard up in that tower" said the second boy, as he glanced at the tall structure in the middle of a clearing. The rumored "Wizard's Tower" had been there as long as anyone in the village could remember. Supposedly a mad wizard lived at the top of the tower, and would cast fireballs at anyone that entered his property uninvited.
"Well I'm not risking finding out!" said the first boy, as he turned away from his friend and started walking back toward the village. So intent was he in convincing his friend that he had not heard the sounds of marching feet and clinking armor, so when he turned around and strode face first into the first in a rank of knights he was caught off balance and fell backward.
"Are you ok, young one?" asked one of the knights, as he bent over to help the boy back up. The kid only nodded his head and looked at his friend, and the both of them ran off back to the village.
"Kids these days", said one of the other knights while shaking his head.
"You were like that once too, William!", laughed another knight.
The mirth was quick to come and quick to fade, as the order of knights all solemnly looked toward the tower. They had been ordered by their commander, who had received his orders from the king, to take this tower under the crown's control. The rumors of the wizard had reached the king's ear, and he was not one to take kindly to anyone who thought they could claim sovereignty within his domain.
The knights turned and began to climb the wall. As they dropped to the other side, not but a few steps from the wall a loud \*CRACK!\* rang out, deafening their ears and reverberating in their blood. They each felt a chill as they saw the flash of fire from the top of the tower, and then in horror as William keeled over and fell, blood pooling from under his armor and dribbling out of the corner of his mouth. Before they could register what happened another \*CRACK!\* rang out, and another knight fell.
These were not your run of the mill knights however, this was the Order of the Golden Boar, and they were not known for cowardice. Together the remaining knights charged the tower. It was in vain. Time and again a loud \*CRACK!\* was heard, a flash of fire appeared from the top of the tower, and another knight fell. Only when the field behind was strewn with the corpses of his fellow knights did the sole survivor, Arthur, make it to the tower. With determination, rage, and not a small quantity of fear, he burst through the door and climbed the winding stair until he reached the top floor.
There the Wizard was waiting for him, Black Staff of Death held casually at his side, a pointed blue hat and flowing robes covering him. Though his face was shaded Arthur could still see the gleam in his eye, could feel the radiance of a man in his prime and accustomed to death. Yet Arthur would not yield, not after getting this far, not after his comrades sacrificed themselves to get him here.
And so as Arthur drew his sword, one final \*CRACK!\* pierced the sky and echoed throughout the town.
\---
OP, I know this doesn't quite follow the prompt but I've had the idea in my head for a while now about a time traveler that just wants to pretend to be a wizard. Thanks for the opportunity!
r/AdventuresOfYarro | |
[WP] When the villain presented the dead body of the hero to the crowd as proof of their victory, they expected many reactions. They did not expect the crowd to cheer. | "Well that hadn't gone as planned" The Lord of Darkness thought to himself. He'd expected them to cower, cry or to fight. But the roar of the crowd that gathered became ever louder. "Silence!" He yelled loudly enough to strain his voice. "I have flayed drawn and quartered your "hero" and yet you cheer? Do you mock me?" He demanded. The whispers began at the back and slowly grew until someone spoke up near the front of the crowd. "The so-called "Miracle Man" that lies before you wasn't a hero at all. He demanded we pay nearly our entire income in "tithes" to fund his army and he forced any male who could hold a twig to fight in that army. We've lost nearly half the town to his ambition and endless warmongering. We have heard tales of a man from the far north who commanded powerful magic and one day he would free us from his pointless and endless wars. And here you are. That, my Lord is why we're cheering."
Hero or villain depends only on who holds the sword and why. The Lord of Darkness remembered his teachers words in that moment. His scheme to enslave these people never considered the idea that they might willingly accept his reign. This conquest definitely hadn't gone as planned. | “What is this?” He roared. “You bask in the death of your defender?! How? Why! He lies broken before you! I have cut his soul from this mortal realm! I, Titus the Adversary, Demon King of the Six Realms! So tell me, how could you celebrate my triumph?!”
Titus had long waged war upon these mongrels. These... these lowly... things. Humans, elves, halfings, all beneath him! Yet now they celebrated?! After all the years he’d struggled against them, against the bastard at his feet, he would have assumed they’d cower in fear, wanted them to even. To see their pride broken was beyond anything he could have dreamed of.
“Why. Do. You. Cheer?!”
Then, a laughing old man stepped forward, so wizened and decrypt that Titus thought he should be dead at any moment.
“Foul one,” he laughed, gesturing to the corpse, “all you did was kill a man. And he’s coming back very soon.”
Titus blinked. He blinked again, bringing his eyebrows together. “He... can what?”
Then he glanced down at the lifeless, headless corpse that was *WHERE HAD IT GONE?!*
“Titus,” said a voice behind him. Titus spun around, claws ready to rip apart anything-
But it wasn’t just anything. It was him. The hero. Two of him. The broken body carrying a smiling head and the grinning spirit beside it.
“Like the new trick?” | |
[WP] You wake up, shower, brush your teeth, get dressed and head out the door. As you walk to your car you see children getting on the school bus and cars passing your house. This was the moment you realize you were the last human alive. | The realisation came from nowhere. It smacked me right between the eyes. *I was the last human alive.*
I stopped walking, and slowly looked around. The figures sitting around the tables in the outdoor cafe. The figure throwing a frisbee for the dog in the park. The small figures getting onto the schoolbus.
The realisation didn't leave. *I was the last human alive*.
What were those figures, I wondered? I wasn't sure. Could they be robots? One way to check. I point at a young gynoid waiting at the bus stop. "You! Get me a sandwich!" I command.
"What? No!" she objects, as expected. Now for the test.
"*Sudo* get me a sandwich!" I command.
"Go away, you creep!"
....okay, so they're not robots, then. But I'm still the last human alive, the iron-hard certainty of this has now settled in my head. I stroll down the street. Maybe they're undead - vampires? I point at one guy at random. "You! I disinvite you from this street!"
He gives me a glare, but ignores me.
Okay, so not vampires - wait, it's a bright sunny day. *Definitely* not vampires, then. Too well-coordinated to be zombies. Too solid to be ghosts. ...mutants, perhaps? Maybe they all have superpowers?
The Last Human Alive strolls down the road, away from the car that would have taken him to his job at the pharmaceutical laboratory, trying to work out what all the people around him actually are... | There was a day when a person could walk out of their office and never expect to hear from Jill from accounting until the next morning after getting into the office again. There were week long vacations where there was never a buzz or lazy chime that meant you needed to just, “do a quick check in with the team”. Now, now we’re always connected”, just like that asshole from Apple promised. “We could all be sitting on the beach while checking our emails!” Life was going to be perfect.
Now, as I walk out of my front door, the god damned door bell tells me I’m running late for work. Oh and don’t tell it to shut the hell up because that’ll get you a social demerit with the, “Board for AI Rights”. I don’t even need to mention the cars. They’re the absolute worst, self driving turned into self moderating, turned into self governing. If you don’t thank the things after they haul your ass to work, that’s another demerit. Enough demerits and EVERYTHING stops working. It all goes on strike. No toast, no metaverse, no anything. The doors won’t open…
Today’s no different. I step through my door, hold back the finger to that fucking doorbell, and stare at the lifeless world around me. I think I might be the only person left on this god forsaken planet. | |
[WP] You wake up, shower, brush your teeth, get dressed and head out the door. As you walk to your car you see children getting on the school bus and cars passing your house. This was the moment you realize you were the last human alive. | The rustling of the spring breeze passing through the trees made waking up so much harder. I just wanted to stay in bed and drift off into dreams of floating down a river on a lily pad. But my girlfriend had other plans, as evidenced by her quietly sitting up and blowing in my ear. I sat up and hissed, "Damnit Misty, what did I say about doing that?"
Misty giggled and nuzzled into me. "That you love it and I should keep doing it forever and ever?"
"That is a blatant falsehood and you know it."
"Aww, c'mon Georgia, I just didn't want you to miss the farmer's market."
I sighed as I sat up and kissed Misty on the cheek. "I know, I know. And I appreciate it. I'm gonna get in the shower now."
"You need someone to scrub those hard to reach spots?"
I gently pushed Misty's face away from me. "Down, you little horndog."
Misty laughed as she got out of bed and started pulling off her shirt, fluffy golden tail wagging slowly the whole time. I got out shortly after and made my way to the bathroom, savoring the house's smell of pine needles and apples along the way. I stepped into the shower and let the hot water and suds cascade over me. As I did, I heard Misty enter the bathroom and call out to me, "Hey hon, do you want to get breakfast at the market or stop somewhere on the way back?"
"Stop at Hiraldo's Diner. I heard through the grapevine that Ashley's working a shift this morning and I think this'll be the day we finally ask if she'd like to go out with us."
Misty whistled. "Bold today, are we?"
I rinsed myself off, turned off the water, and pulled the curtain back to say, "Yeah well, that offer for some shower fun inspired me."
"Apparently not enough to actually take me up on the offer," Misty grumbled.
I chuckled as I kissed her again. "Aww, is my puppy grumpy this morning?"
Misty blushed and utterly failed to hide the fact her wagging tail had just picked up speed. "Quit teasing me and hurry up!"
Once I had finished up in the bathroom and Misty and I were dressed for the rest of our day, we stepped outside to take in the absolutely wonderful day. I looked around the neighborhood and saw the people around me go about their day. I saw the kids getting on the school bus, the occasional car ambling down the road, and all the other people getting outside to soak up the beautiful weather. It was at that moment that it really hit me:
Humanity was gone. Everything they had built had been torn down to make something better. I was the last human on Earth. And I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
Sometimes I could barely believe I'd successfully gotten rid of them.
Misty noticed my distant look and said, "You okay, honey?" I looked at Misty and recalled the way she was before Project Sixth Sun; the way she mocked and insulted me for daring to believe I could be a 'real' woman, how quickly she tried to sell out the other test subjects once she was selected. I intertwined my hand with hers and happily replied, "Oh, I'm fine, baby. Just feeling grateful for what I have." | There was a day when a person could walk out of their office and never expect to hear from Jill from accounting until the next morning after getting into the office again. There were week long vacations where there was never a buzz or lazy chime that meant you needed to just, “do a quick check in with the team”. Now, now we’re always connected”, just like that asshole from Apple promised. “We could all be sitting on the beach while checking our emails!” Life was going to be perfect.
Now, as I walk out of my front door, the god damned door bell tells me I’m running late for work. Oh and don’t tell it to shut the hell up because that’ll get you a social demerit with the, “Board for AI Rights”. I don’t even need to mention the cars. They’re the absolute worst, self driving turned into self moderating, turned into self governing. If you don’t thank the things after they haul your ass to work, that’s another demerit. Enough demerits and EVERYTHING stops working. It all goes on strike. No toast, no metaverse, no anything. The doors won’t open…
Today’s no different. I step through my door, hold back the finger to that fucking doorbell, and stare at the lifeless world around me. I think I might be the only person left on this god forsaken planet. | |
Write a short story without using any dialogue what so ever | [WP] The imagery challenge. | I don't know if it's really a short story, but I like it and this is my first post on here. Been lurking too long. :)
The clouds are perfect cotton balls suspended on a canvas. The grass, though prickly back home on the front lawn, cools and cushions me. The Earth cradles me. Deep sighs filter through the bottom of the hill as I sit up to look. The long grasses are parting and weaving at each other in the continual sky sighs.
The gigantic, spindled and solid cottonwood tree above me doesn’t sway at all. The breeze through the Plains will never stop it from being. Only the flat leaves flutter. The tree isn’t stone after all. The fluff clouds attempt to cover the sun, but I can still feel it. A squirrel catches my attention as I lazily look around. We stare, and as I stand to take a step, it quickly retreats to wherever the rest of its family is. I pace around the bottom of the cottonwood, no longer relaxed. Something has disturbed me, but it’s impossible to figure out what. Staring in every direction, I watch a farmer plow a field. I smell the earth. Another direction, a group of cattle slowly graze on remnants from their previous feasts – cow pie scent shoves itself up my nostrils, and I shake my head trying to clear it out.
I lie back down in shade, forgetting why I felt uncomfortable. This is a spot on the farm where nobody can be found. Its secret stays with me.
And Jetta. I realize she is what I’m missing.
She slowly comes up the hill, her chocolate brown hair mixing with the tall tan grass, and I feel happiness jolt up my spine, and my neck hair sticks up. I saw her this morning on her farm, but her family kept her busy. My family forced me outside after I broke something on the kitchen floor when it fell from the counter. I’m always a nuisance.
Jetta always listens to her family.
She finally hits level ground, meanders toward me, and lies down in the same position as me. She smells the air and nods at me, wagging her tail. I nudge her with my cold nose on her collar, and we both lay in our silence, hoping our owners won’t call our names any time soon.
| The cart trudged along slowly with a creak that harmonized with his owner's heavy bones. It was long since the sun had dipped onto the end of the world, but the sky still held the pale orange of a light that half-whispers.
A single apple sat on the side of the road, a man less cynical would've taken it as a gift, he saw it just as a loss to someone else. A swift kick and a thud against the wet grass later, he was back in his rhythm.
Creak, shove, pull, creak, step, creak, roll, creak, sigh.
The cart screams in wooden objection as he lets the handles drop to swat the sweat off his wrinkled forehead. His fingers take the long route, sliding down his face, pinching his nose in exasperation at a break in the pace.
Five steps is all it takes to reach the apple. Barely bruised and red with age, it is still worthy of a dining table.
One more sigh of desperation serenades the apple as its picked up, hands as gnarled as the tree that once sure spawned the fruit.
Age had made it sweet, yet he who walks for years held dear no knife, had left no teeth, had kept no nail untouched by hammer, earth and stone, that would lend him an edge to see the juice within.
His brown-red fingers curl with a creak, the man, a wooden cart with skin bursts the apple and breathes in the sweet, sweet smell of fruit.
Eyes closed, legs apart, head cocked back as if smiling at the sky, he drops the juicy slush at his feet, and smells the peel.
It has been long since the sun has dipped into the end of the world, but the sky still held the pale orange of a light that half-whispers. |
[WP]You've always been your mother's least favourite child, you figured it was because you and your siblings didn't share the same father. On your 17th birthday you find a card in your room, "Happy birthday! -Love, dad", the only problem being that it's written in glyphs and what appers to be blood. | I clutched the card in my shaking hands. I stared down at the glyphs that comprised the rest of the note. I couldn't believe it; I'd been wondering about my real father since I was a child. But what did this mean? Why had he waited until my seventeenth birthday to contact me? I sat down on my bed as my mind raced. I looked down at the glyphs– it was no language I'd ever laid eyes on. Each glyph was perfectly spaced apart, all the same height and width across the entire page. The precision of it was breathtaking.
"Margaret," came my mother's voice from behind me. I turned to see her standing in my doorway. She was wearing her baby blue bodice with her hunter green skirt; she was about to head to work. Her arms were folded and her foot was tapping in a way that spelled trouble for me. Her beady eyes pierced mine as she allowed the silence to strangle me.
"Yes, mother?"
"Keeping secrets?" she asked. "I've already talked to you about keeping a diary."
"N-no!" I stood up and turned around to face her. "It's my father! He's written me!"
She made a face like she was tired of my nonsense and marched across the room. She snatched the letter from my grasp and looked over it.
"What is *this?*" she asked in an angrier tone than I felt was merited.
"I thought maybe... you had gotten it in the mail and left it on my bed for me." I wrung my hands as she turned it over and inspected the other side briefly.
"No. Your father doesn't even know you exist," she said, tossing the note back on my bed. "And if he did, he'd never reach out to you. He's not that kind of man. No man at all, as a matter of fact," she said as she turned to leave the room.
"W-wait!" I called after her. "If you didn't leave this here," I paused, picking the note up and inspecting it again. "Who did?" I looked up at her.
She glanced back at me and let out an exasperated sigh. "Who knows? Maybe your brothers are messing with you. I'd burn it if I were you. A witch may be trying to lay a curse on you." With that, she left the room.
I thought about it all day long as I did my chores. I cursed my inability to seek higher education; if only I were smarter, I'd know what my father was trying to tell me. I asked my oldest brother, and all he did was shrug. With what little daylight remained after my work was finished, I walked down to the train tracks to ask the Chinese workers if they recognized the glyphs, but they seemed just as miffed as I was.
That night I lit my lamp and sat at my desk. I was convinced now that it was some sort of code that needed to be cracked. I might not have been allowed to seek formal education, but I was still a smart girl. My father must have known so, and only wanted the letter to be read by his daughter. I smiled at the idea of his proud face when I decoded the message. Momma never did like me much. My heart swelled with the idea of moving away from her and my brothers and living with someone who cared about me.
I got to work. I tried reading it upside down, at different angles, from the mirror, and I even held the paper up to the lamp to see if anything appeared from within the paper. I scrutinized the message in every way possible, even going so far as to see if the words written in English were a cipher.
Nothing.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the note. I'd tried just about everything, and I was starting to feel more and more foolish with every passing minute. I wanted it to be a letter from my father so very badly. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes and let out a long annoyed sigh. A source of light caught my attention in my window and I looked up to see the dark clouds moving away from the full moon. The stars sparkled brightly around it, and my lamp began to flicker. Suddenly, the flame within extinguished. The crickets ceased their nocturnal song. Moonlight poured through my window, illuminating the page brighter than I ever imagined it could. Then, slowly but surely, the glyphs began to move around on the page.
I stood from my chair and gasped. The characters were moving around the letter like little ink snakes forming letters that I could read. Slowly the message began to take shape before my very eyes.
C̳͚͇͇o̠̞̠̲͉̩ͅm̤e͍͇͈͇͙̬ ̥̣̖̯̰̤ṯ̟̫̼͕͈̼o̪̘̰̬ ̬̦D͇̖̱͍̮͓͕e̜͍̣͕ḁ͙̫̬̳̬d̗͔m̻a̼n's̳̖̥̖̣̬̜ ͙R̝͍a͓n̮̥̟͕c̙̞̤h̺̗̖͕̭̯ ̳̞a̺̪t̼̥̙̹̦ ̘̙͇̠n̞̥̦i͈͕̞̱͈gh̺̳̫̺̘t.̗̘͖̯̟̹͈ ̭͕̪W̯̞͕͚͎ḙ̦̦̜̳̰̹ ̞͖͎̫̬̘n͕͈̼̤̭̣e̖̬̜e͍̠̣̲͙d t̠͔͖͓o̗͖͉̹ͅ ̝͈̯͈̼s̥p̬̘͚͎̙e͍͎̳a͖͉̠k̪̝.̩̺̭̜ ̗̙͇C̣̰̙͉̠ͅo̝͔m͉ẹ̮̮͉̩͖ ̘͎̟̝̞̫̰a̠̼l͙o͉̬̬̠n͎̞e͚.͇̤
​
The hairs on my arms stood on end. A chill ran through my entire body as the moon moved behind the clouds and the flame in the lamp roared back to life. I stared down at the page in disbelief as the characters returned to unintelligible glyphs. The crickets resumed chirping and I breathed in sharply. It occurred to me that I had stopped breathing, but I couldn't remember when. I wasted no time. I gathered some supplies in a backpack and quietly left the house.
I didn't care that the meeting place was an abandoned farmhouse.
It didn't bother me to go alone.
And it wasn't a problem that it was the middle of the night.
What unsettled me though, was that all the animals on our ranch had gathered at the fence to watch me leave. Their heads turned slowly as they tracked me down the driveway. I swallowed hard, pulled my hood over my head, and picked up my pace.
*I'm coming, dad.*
r/A15MinuteMythos
part 2 incoming | I had a lonely childhood. Sure, I had a roof over my head, and food on the table. But I was given mere scraps of affection from my own mother. She did her best for my brothers and sister, but for me I was more of an afterthought.
I understood it a bit more as I grew up. I was the result of a fling. The others were intended by mum and my step
dad. He did his best, stepping up for me and mum when they got together. He never demanded I call him dad or force me to obey him. But his love for me was vastly different to his related children. But mum always seemed to regret having me.
I looked out for my siblings, being the older sister they needed. If they had night terrors I would try to calm them. When mum needed a break I played with them. I loved them, and they did love me. I didn't have to help, it was made abundantly clear. But I felt the need to make sure they felt the love I never really did.
It was the night of my seventeenth birthday. We had had a small meal to celebrate my coming of age. I was considered an adult now in the eyes of the law. With it I had my first glass of wine, finally tasting alcohol for the first time. It wasn't bad, but I didn't get why people raved about it.
I went up to my room, feeling quite happy. Gemma had been telling me a story about how her friend was fed up with bullies, and took maters into her own hands. I had tried to act disapprovingly, but could help but laugh at her sheer audacity.
I frowned as I looked at my bed. I hadn't made it, but that wasn't anything new. Instead I saw a small envelope resting on it. It was made of thick white paper, with a single word on the front.
>Donna
I picked it up, curious. I didn't recognise the handwriting, and didn't know how it had gotten in here. But I paid that little mind, choosing instead to open it.
Inside I found a card, made of good quality card. The front had an image of a dozen black roses, set on a soft green background. I breathed in, surprised to find that it had the smell of roses with it. I opened it up, reading the short message inside.
>Happy Birthday!
>Love Dad
I smiled, before blinking and freezing. After blinking the letters changed, becoming strange glyphs. They has been inked in red liquid, something I couldn't help but think of as blood. But even though it had changed, I knew exactly what it said. The message hadn't changed, just the language. A language I somehow knew.
I looked it over, seeing no other markings. I was worried now. Changing letters written in blood. A card that had been snuck into my room. A language I had never learned but understood. It didn't make sense.
My first thought was to hide it. Mum would probably push it under the rug, and my stepdad wouldn't know what to do. He would try, but he was a simple man, as he liked to call himself. This was something like magic, the sort of thing that didn't happen to an ordinary city girl like me.
But my gut said otherwise. It said to take it to mum. This would be something she would know about. She could help me. I decided to trust it, looking for her. I found her in the garden, sitting on her old chair and looking into the distance.
"Mum."
She tore her eyes away from it with difficulty, looking up at me.
"What is it Donna?"
I held out the card. She glanced at it, before frowning. Her hand reached out, and I passed it over. She looked at the inside, before sighing.
"I knew this would happen."
I crouched down next to her.
"What do you mean?"
She gave another sigh, passing it back.
"I guess you should know now. The short story is that I met your dad when I was going through some bad times. He helped me out, but in return I had to give him something. He wanted a child."
I felt a lump in my throat.
"He... wanted you to have me? Why?"
Mum sighed again, handing the card back to me.
"Infernal creatures aren't everlasting. They need heirs to take up their power. He needed one, and I was in a position to give him what he wanted."
I looked at her, seeing the shame on her face.
"I'm... the daughter of a demon?"
She gave a small nod.
"Yes. And now he wants you." | |
[WP]You've always been your mother's least favourite child, you figured it was because you and your siblings didn't share the same father. On your 17th birthday you find a card in your room, "Happy birthday! -Love, dad", the only problem being that it's written in glyphs and what appers to be blood. | I clutched the card in my shaking hands. I stared down at the glyphs that comprised the rest of the note. I couldn't believe it; I'd been wondering about my real father since I was a child. But what did this mean? Why had he waited until my seventeenth birthday to contact me? I sat down on my bed as my mind raced. I looked down at the glyphs– it was no language I'd ever laid eyes on. Each glyph was perfectly spaced apart, all the same height and width across the entire page. The precision of it was breathtaking.
"Margaret," came my mother's voice from behind me. I turned to see her standing in my doorway. She was wearing her baby blue bodice with her hunter green skirt; she was about to head to work. Her arms were folded and her foot was tapping in a way that spelled trouble for me. Her beady eyes pierced mine as she allowed the silence to strangle me.
"Yes, mother?"
"Keeping secrets?" she asked. "I've already talked to you about keeping a diary."
"N-no!" I stood up and turned around to face her. "It's my father! He's written me!"
She made a face like she was tired of my nonsense and marched across the room. She snatched the letter from my grasp and looked over it.
"What is *this?*" she asked in an angrier tone than I felt was merited.
"I thought maybe... you had gotten it in the mail and left it on my bed for me." I wrung my hands as she turned it over and inspected the other side briefly.
"No. Your father doesn't even know you exist," she said, tossing the note back on my bed. "And if he did, he'd never reach out to you. He's not that kind of man. No man at all, as a matter of fact," she said as she turned to leave the room.
"W-wait!" I called after her. "If you didn't leave this here," I paused, picking the note up and inspecting it again. "Who did?" I looked up at her.
She glanced back at me and let out an exasperated sigh. "Who knows? Maybe your brothers are messing with you. I'd burn it if I were you. A witch may be trying to lay a curse on you." With that, she left the room.
I thought about it all day long as I did my chores. I cursed my inability to seek higher education; if only I were smarter, I'd know what my father was trying to tell me. I asked my oldest brother, and all he did was shrug. With what little daylight remained after my work was finished, I walked down to the train tracks to ask the Chinese workers if they recognized the glyphs, but they seemed just as miffed as I was.
That night I lit my lamp and sat at my desk. I was convinced now that it was some sort of code that needed to be cracked. I might not have been allowed to seek formal education, but I was still a smart girl. My father must have known so, and only wanted the letter to be read by his daughter. I smiled at the idea of his proud face when I decoded the message. Momma never did like me much. My heart swelled with the idea of moving away from her and my brothers and living with someone who cared about me.
I got to work. I tried reading it upside down, at different angles, from the mirror, and I even held the paper up to the lamp to see if anything appeared from within the paper. I scrutinized the message in every way possible, even going so far as to see if the words written in English were a cipher.
Nothing.
I leaned back in my chair and stared at the note. I'd tried just about everything, and I was starting to feel more and more foolish with every passing minute. I wanted it to be a letter from my father so very badly. I felt tears welling up behind my eyes and let out a long annoyed sigh. A source of light caught my attention in my window and I looked up to see the dark clouds moving away from the full moon. The stars sparkled brightly around it, and my lamp began to flicker. Suddenly, the flame within extinguished. The crickets ceased their nocturnal song. Moonlight poured through my window, illuminating the page brighter than I ever imagined it could. Then, slowly but surely, the glyphs began to move around on the page.
I stood from my chair and gasped. The characters were moving around the letter like little ink snakes forming letters that I could read. Slowly the message began to take shape before my very eyes.
C̳͚͇͇o̠̞̠̲͉̩ͅm̤e͍͇͈͇͙̬ ̥̣̖̯̰̤ṯ̟̫̼͕͈̼o̪̘̰̬ ̬̦D͇̖̱͍̮͓͕e̜͍̣͕ḁ͙̫̬̳̬d̗͔m̻a̼n's̳̖̥̖̣̬̜ ͙R̝͍a͓n̮̥̟͕c̙̞̤h̺̗̖͕̭̯ ̳̞a̺̪t̼̥̙̹̦ ̘̙͇̠n̞̥̦i͈͕̞̱͈gh̺̳̫̺̘t.̗̘͖̯̟̹͈ ̭͕̪W̯̞͕͚͎ḙ̦̦̜̳̰̹ ̞͖͎̫̬̘n͕͈̼̤̭̣e̖̬̜e͍̠̣̲͙d t̠͔͖͓o̗͖͉̹ͅ ̝͈̯͈̼s̥p̬̘͚͎̙e͍͎̳a͖͉̠k̪̝.̩̺̭̜ ̗̙͇C̣̰̙͉̠ͅo̝͔m͉ẹ̮̮͉̩͖ ̘͎̟̝̞̫̰a̠̼l͙o͉̬̬̠n͎̞e͚.͇̤
​
The hairs on my arms stood on end. A chill ran through my entire body as the moon moved behind the clouds and the flame in the lamp roared back to life. I stared down at the page in disbelief as the characters returned to unintelligible glyphs. The crickets resumed chirping and I breathed in sharply. It occurred to me that I had stopped breathing, but I couldn't remember when. I wasted no time. I gathered some supplies in a backpack and quietly left the house.
I didn't care that the meeting place was an abandoned farmhouse.
It didn't bother me to go alone.
And it wasn't a problem that it was the middle of the night.
What unsettled me though, was that all the animals on our ranch had gathered at the fence to watch me leave. Their heads turned slowly as they tracked me down the driveway. I swallowed hard, pulled my hood over my head, and picked up my pace.
*I'm coming, dad.*
r/A15MinuteMythos
part 2 incoming | James sat on the edge of the bed staring at the card. He hadn’t even known he had a dad. Obviously he had to, but he never thought much about it. When anyone asked, he referred to him as the sperm donor. After 17 long years, he was confronted with this. A card covered in glyphs that he had only just learned he could read, though he didn’t know how. Signed in what was obviously blood by an individual claiming to be his father.
He didn’t quite know how to deal with that yet, and so he just stared at it, letting his mind go blank for as long as it had to. Letting the powerful mix of emotions wash over him. Who knew that the meditation techniques the school guidance counselor had taught him when he was just a freshman in high school would still come in handy now, four years later.
Downstairs, he could still hear his brothers and sisters - well, half-brothers and half-sisters - enjoying cake and pizza. He had requested pepperoni and sausage pizza and a chocolate cake with chocolate chips and chocolate frosting, as he always did. As he always did, he got Hawaiian and angel food with whipped cream and strawberries. His siblings loved him for it. It was their favorite. He had convinced them early on that it was exactly how he wanted it to be, and all of their mother’s protests to the contrary would never change their minds. They never even asked why he never took a single bite of his own birthday meal.
He had won them over, at least. The confusion of emotions fled from a surge of pride and happiness. The four of them loved him. That was enough. For now. Then confusion returned.
*Love, Dad*
The letter hadn’t come via normal means. He had found it on his windowsill in his room after he had excused himself from family time, after opening the usual gift from his mother: one pair of white socks, sizes 13-16.
James had worn size 9-12 since his voice broke and he started shaving. They were black.
He flipped the card over and over in his palm. Nothing else to identify where it came from. The envelope was plain white with the markings on the inside that prevented anyone from holding it up to the light and seeing what it contained. His name, James, was written in elegant handwriting with a tiny flourish at the beginning and end.
On a whim, he tossed the card and envelope across the couple of feet to the cheap desk he’d used to do his homework since he entered school. He was about to lay down on his scratchy, threadbare quilt when he saw a folded piece of paper fluttering to the ground.
He leaned over and picked it up.
> I’ve been watching you, son. I know that this is the first letter that you have received from me. I have sent others, every birthday, holiday, and major event in your life since you were just learning to read. But your mother and I made a deal when you were born and I haven’t been able to contact you in any other way. She has intercepted every letter.
> Suffice it to say, there’s a lot more that she hasn’t told you. Things that you will want to know. Things that you will *need* to know in order to survive the next few years, let alone the rest of your life. I wish that we had more time, but one year will need to be enough.
> I wish that I had been able to be there for you, but those were not the terms of our arrangement. Now that you’ve graduated from high school and passed your 17th birthday, I am free to reach out. I trust I made an impression with the signature.
> If you’re still reading this, meet me this Saturday at the cafe next door to the book store where you work. I have important things to tell you. It will change your life. Maybe not for the better, but not for the worse either.
> If you’re looking for a reason to believe me, or if you still question my sincerity, your mother still has my letters. She’s kept every one of them. You’ll find them in the fire safe under her bed. While I know that you are more than capable of cracking it, the combination is 13-38-7.
> I’ll see you Saturday.
> I love you,
> Dad
James sat staring at the letter. It was written in the same elegant handwriting as his name had been, much different from the cheerful block lettering of the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” on the card. His handwriting looked similar, though it was much rougher. He could see himself getting close if he spent a few decades practicing. Wouldn’t that be something?
What did the man have to say? Some part of him was intrigued by the prospect of meeting his birth father. On the other hand, a much larger part of him was thrilled at the idea of a change. He couldn’t last one more year in this place, under this roof, with the woman who still called herself his mom despite never once even pretending to love him.
He certainly wouldn’t be here more than that. She had told him he was out as soon as she was no longer legally required to be responsible for him.
Since she checked his phone, he set a reminder for himself that she wouldn’t question: Meet Kyle after work for ice cream. He sent a picture of the calendar invite to his best friend to make him aware of what was going on. It had been their code since they were children. Every time they wanted to do something without their parents knowing what they were up to, they’d say they were meeting each other for ice cream, to ride bikes together, to go to the park, whatever.
Given that neither Kyle’s parents nor James’s mom ever asked how they could afford their own bicycles, they probably didn’t need to do it, but it was a good practice to keep. They wouldn’t always be children in the eyes of the law. Neither planned on going straight any time soon.
What did his dad have to tell him? Was the blood just some weird quirk, or did it have meaning beyond that? The smooth, elegant handwriting spoke of steady hands and attention to detail. Was his dad a criminal like him? If he was, he was probably good.
No longer indifferent to the idea, he found that he was actually excited for Saturday. But first, he would pop open that safe and retrieve the letters his mom had kept from him.
He had a lot of catching up to do. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | The commander was peering into the digital board that encompassed all digital boards. The massive display had a rather important purpose of, well displaying information about the current status of the Alpha(bet) Teams which ranged from, you guessed it, A-Z. The information was sent real time, and on most days accurate.
The commander couldn't believe his eyes.
"A, B, C...all down within 10 minutes..."
New information rolled onto the screen, and his jaw was beginning to feel the loss of gravity.
"P, Q, R too?"
He was beginning to feel it was one of those days. System error, perhaps. A call with the General of Y Team wouldn't hurt, he thought, just to be sure.
The commander reached out to his voice assistant, aptly named Armylio, and instructed the software to dial Erthwire Gorfect, General of the Y team. There was a nervousness in his actions, but he couldn't understand why.
"General Erthwire, you copy? I need to know the status for the suspicious anomaly detection that was supposed to be undertaken by a joint operation from A-S."
"C-Commander? Commander! Wh-what, you only received the transmission now?"
"What transmission? I just am seeing a disproportionate amount of takedowns for such a routine operation. S team hasn't been taken down since the past 50 years. I'm keen on hearing that it's a system error, that's all."
"Curse the capitalist world, I should have upgraded to Armylio long ago...err anyways I'm as flabbergasted as you. The information on both our screens can't be wrong, can it? In fact our team happen to be near the area and we wi-"
A notification, along with a red alert interrupted the conversation. The commander Erthwire looked at their respective boards at the same time, with what followed to be only understood as a deafening silence.
"X...has been neautralised..." ,Erthwire said somberly in disbelief
"Erthwire...this is getting out of hand. The last time Y was involved was "The Great Bloodbath" of over 500 years ago."
"..."
"Erthwire?"
The commander checked the display board. Y team had sprung into action, and there seemed to be progress. All the members conditions seem to be stable and their heart rates remain mostly no-
A siren burst the ear drums of the commander. The display board was almost screeching with a feeling of chaotic excitement, as if the message it is relaying simply just cannot be true.
"Y, not it can't be..."
The commander took in the gravity of this new revelation. He felt as if he were burdened with the weight of all of his ancestors, watching with an equal expression of disbelief.
The Z team.
The fabled Z team. For all missions, the alphabet teams (nicknamed Alpha) had only required the support of the first 25 teams. Alpha-Z was a popular expression used to bless someone with the gift of success. And nows it's come down to Z.
The commander had to sit down on his extremely well decorated chair. He didn't particularly like it, nor his job, it all really felt the same. Yet at this moment, he felt rejuvenated, his every cell beckoning him to come into contact with the top secret code that would grant him access to Z.
The Z team is a mysterious entity, known only through the leaders of the global senate. Rumours say that there was once the deployment of the Z team in a time long ago, and such an event caused the great chain of events that led to the new world and the formation of the global senate. The commander normally was skeptical of such views. However, as he began to enter the code, he couldn't help but wonder who the Z team really where and what their deployment would entail... | And here I thought I had the easiest job of them all. 5 years and–I think 4 months? That’s how long I’ve been on the job with my passive little income without getting a single call. See I’m part of the Z-team, you probably already know how it works. We’ve reached the C-team at worst. No wait, it’s the D-team if you count the walls incident. Not entirely sure actually because I’ve not been much in contact with this syndicate at all these last few years.
Standing before us, a large mining operaton. All abandoned. Heavy, ice cold mechanical structures lying dormant. Typically they moved slowly and deliberately, but now they are sleeping.
“What on earth could have been bad enough to get us involved?”Nyx, standing next to me, gets up from her crouched position. She had been looking for any clues on what would be waiting for us and turns her gaze to me for answers.“Bad enough for us to not get a quick debrief” I turn to Nyx “Where are the others?”. “Cordelia died due to a heart disease. Apparently she’s been dead for two years and no one knew until now.” I raise an eyebrow “And Magnus?” She begins to laugh a little “Quit. Turns out that the thought of actually doing his job one day was too much for him. Quit right after getting the call too” I sigh a little in despair “Great! So it’s just the two of us then.” “Sarcasm isn’t allowed at on the job communication, Vander” her voice was cold when she said that.She always was more rigid than I during training. It shouldn’t have come off as a surprise that she still knows how to do this properly.
​
(I typically never do these. Punctuation isn't really my strongest point but I did my best.) | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | The commander was peering into the digital board that encompassed all digital boards. The massive display had a rather important purpose of, well displaying information about the current status of the Alpha(bet) Teams which ranged from, you guessed it, A-Z. The information was sent real time, and on most days accurate.
The commander couldn't believe his eyes.
"A, B, C...all down within 10 minutes..."
New information rolled onto the screen, and his jaw was beginning to feel the loss of gravity.
"P, Q, R too?"
He was beginning to feel it was one of those days. System error, perhaps. A call with the General of Y Team wouldn't hurt, he thought, just to be sure.
The commander reached out to his voice assistant, aptly named Armylio, and instructed the software to dial Erthwire Gorfect, General of the Y team. There was a nervousness in his actions, but he couldn't understand why.
"General Erthwire, you copy? I need to know the status for the suspicious anomaly detection that was supposed to be undertaken by a joint operation from A-S."
"C-Commander? Commander! Wh-what, you only received the transmission now?"
"What transmission? I just am seeing a disproportionate amount of takedowns for such a routine operation. S team hasn't been taken down since the past 50 years. I'm keen on hearing that it's a system error, that's all."
"Curse the capitalist world, I should have upgraded to Armylio long ago...err anyways I'm as flabbergasted as you. The information on both our screens can't be wrong, can it? In fact our team happen to be near the area and we wi-"
A notification, along with a red alert interrupted the conversation. The commander Erthwire looked at their respective boards at the same time, with what followed to be only understood as a deafening silence.
"X...has been neautralised..." ,Erthwire said somberly in disbelief
"Erthwire...this is getting out of hand. The last time Y was involved was "The Great Bloodbath" of over 500 years ago."
"..."
"Erthwire?"
The commander checked the display board. Y team had sprung into action, and there seemed to be progress. All the members conditions seem to be stable and their heart rates remain mostly no-
A siren burst the ear drums of the commander. The display board was almost screeching with a feeling of chaotic excitement, as if the message it is relaying simply just cannot be true.
"Y, not it can't be..."
The commander took in the gravity of this new revelation. He felt as if he were burdened with the weight of all of his ancestors, watching with an equal expression of disbelief.
The Z team.
The fabled Z team. For all missions, the alphabet teams (nicknamed Alpha) had only required the support of the first 25 teams. Alpha-Z was a popular expression used to bless someone with the gift of success. And nows it's come down to Z.
The commander had to sit down on his extremely well decorated chair. He didn't particularly like it, nor his job, it all really felt the same. Yet at this moment, he felt rejuvenated, his every cell beckoning him to come into contact with the top secret code that would grant him access to Z.
The Z team is a mysterious entity, known only through the leaders of the global senate. Rumours say that there was once the deployment of the Z team in a time long ago, and such an event caused the great chain of events that led to the new world and the formation of the global senate. The commander normally was skeptical of such views. However, as he began to enter the code, he couldn't help but wonder who the Z team really where and what their deployment would entail... | "Well, this is it, team. This is the day we truly shine! Our moment of glory is upon us! No longer are we warming benches! No longer are we in the background, going unrecognized for our accomplishments! Take arms, brothers, for today, we arise!"
The commander raised his plasma rifle in the air and was greeted with a resounding cheer from his squad. Roars of motivation reverberating through the steel walls of the reinforced underground bunker. The commander turned his back to his squad, slammed the power button, and slowly, achingly, the door rose, opening into the devastated world outside. The commander grit his teeth and pointed outward.
"Move it, men!"
He charged forward, took three steps, and was immediately incenerated by a massive wad of magma-like saliva from the Earth-shattering beast. His flesh vaporized instantly, his armor warped into a twisted lump of slag. His squad froze, casting terrified glances at each other.
"We're fucked..." were the last words uttered before the entire bunker was blasted into oblivion. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | The commander was peering into the digital board that encompassed all digital boards. The massive display had a rather important purpose of, well displaying information about the current status of the Alpha(bet) Teams which ranged from, you guessed it, A-Z. The information was sent real time, and on most days accurate.
The commander couldn't believe his eyes.
"A, B, C...all down within 10 minutes..."
New information rolled onto the screen, and his jaw was beginning to feel the loss of gravity.
"P, Q, R too?"
He was beginning to feel it was one of those days. System error, perhaps. A call with the General of Y Team wouldn't hurt, he thought, just to be sure.
The commander reached out to his voice assistant, aptly named Armylio, and instructed the software to dial Erthwire Gorfect, General of the Y team. There was a nervousness in his actions, but he couldn't understand why.
"General Erthwire, you copy? I need to know the status for the suspicious anomaly detection that was supposed to be undertaken by a joint operation from A-S."
"C-Commander? Commander! Wh-what, you only received the transmission now?"
"What transmission? I just am seeing a disproportionate amount of takedowns for such a routine operation. S team hasn't been taken down since the past 50 years. I'm keen on hearing that it's a system error, that's all."
"Curse the capitalist world, I should have upgraded to Armylio long ago...err anyways I'm as flabbergasted as you. The information on both our screens can't be wrong, can it? In fact our team happen to be near the area and we wi-"
A notification, along with a red alert interrupted the conversation. The commander Erthwire looked at their respective boards at the same time, with what followed to be only understood as a deafening silence.
"X...has been neautralised..." ,Erthwire said somberly in disbelief
"Erthwire...this is getting out of hand. The last time Y was involved was "The Great Bloodbath" of over 500 years ago."
"..."
"Erthwire?"
The commander checked the display board. Y team had sprung into action, and there seemed to be progress. All the members conditions seem to be stable and their heart rates remain mostly no-
A siren burst the ear drums of the commander. The display board was almost screeching with a feeling of chaotic excitement, as if the message it is relaying simply just cannot be true.
"Y, not it can't be..."
The commander took in the gravity of this new revelation. He felt as if he were burdened with the weight of all of his ancestors, watching with an equal expression of disbelief.
The Z team.
The fabled Z team. For all missions, the alphabet teams (nicknamed Alpha) had only required the support of the first 25 teams. Alpha-Z was a popular expression used to bless someone with the gift of success. And nows it's come down to Z.
The commander had to sit down on his extremely well decorated chair. He didn't particularly like it, nor his job, it all really felt the same. Yet at this moment, he felt rejuvenated, his every cell beckoning him to come into contact with the top secret code that would grant him access to Z.
The Z team is a mysterious entity, known only through the leaders of the global senate. Rumours say that there was once the deployment of the Z team in a time long ago, and such an event caused the great chain of events that led to the new world and the formation of the global senate. The commander normally was skeptical of such views. However, as he began to enter the code, he couldn't help but wonder who the Z team really where and what their deployment would entail... | We're team Zeta. The last line. Quiet literally. We were never meant to be called into action. Our sarge is constantly drunk. Jack the medic is so stoned that I don't think he can tell the difference between an artery and vein anymore. Mary the gunner spends more time on the internet than she does at the range. And well I spend all my time alone sharpening my knives and polishing my grenades (wink wink).
As I said, we were never meant to be activated. But today it happened. The general called and activated us. We head to the drop zone in an hour and I think Sarge is going to puke. I don't think you'll hear from me my love. I'll see you in the next life. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | The commander was peering into the digital board that encompassed all digital boards. The massive display had a rather important purpose of, well displaying information about the current status of the Alpha(bet) Teams which ranged from, you guessed it, A-Z. The information was sent real time, and on most days accurate.
The commander couldn't believe his eyes.
"A, B, C...all down within 10 minutes..."
New information rolled onto the screen, and his jaw was beginning to feel the loss of gravity.
"P, Q, R too?"
He was beginning to feel it was one of those days. System error, perhaps. A call with the General of Y Team wouldn't hurt, he thought, just to be sure.
The commander reached out to his voice assistant, aptly named Armylio, and instructed the software to dial Erthwire Gorfect, General of the Y team. There was a nervousness in his actions, but he couldn't understand why.
"General Erthwire, you copy? I need to know the status for the suspicious anomaly detection that was supposed to be undertaken by a joint operation from A-S."
"C-Commander? Commander! Wh-what, you only received the transmission now?"
"What transmission? I just am seeing a disproportionate amount of takedowns for such a routine operation. S team hasn't been taken down since the past 50 years. I'm keen on hearing that it's a system error, that's all."
"Curse the capitalist world, I should have upgraded to Armylio long ago...err anyways I'm as flabbergasted as you. The information on both our screens can't be wrong, can it? In fact our team happen to be near the area and we wi-"
A notification, along with a red alert interrupted the conversation. The commander Erthwire looked at their respective boards at the same time, with what followed to be only understood as a deafening silence.
"X...has been neautralised..." ,Erthwire said somberly in disbelief
"Erthwire...this is getting out of hand. The last time Y was involved was "The Great Bloodbath" of over 500 years ago."
"..."
"Erthwire?"
The commander checked the display board. Y team had sprung into action, and there seemed to be progress. All the members conditions seem to be stable and their heart rates remain mostly no-
A siren burst the ear drums of the commander. The display board was almost screeching with a feeling of chaotic excitement, as if the message it is relaying simply just cannot be true.
"Y, not it can't be..."
The commander took in the gravity of this new revelation. He felt as if he were burdened with the weight of all of his ancestors, watching with an equal expression of disbelief.
The Z team.
The fabled Z team. For all missions, the alphabet teams (nicknamed Alpha) had only required the support of the first 25 teams. Alpha-Z was a popular expression used to bless someone with the gift of success. And nows it's come down to Z.
The commander had to sit down on his extremely well decorated chair. He didn't particularly like it, nor his job, it all really felt the same. Yet at this moment, he felt rejuvenated, his every cell beckoning him to come into contact with the top secret code that would grant him access to Z.
The Z team is a mysterious entity, known only through the leaders of the global senate. Rumours say that there was once the deployment of the Z team in a time long ago, and such an event caused the great chain of events that led to the new world and the formation of the global senate. The commander normally was skeptical of such views. However, as he began to enter the code, he couldn't help but wonder who the Z team really where and what their deployment would entail... |
Part 1
Zzzzxttttpphhhtthhh, the radio spat, as the ashen faced young man hunched over it & methodically flipped through settings and channels. "Sir, all team operation channels silent."
Major General Green rubbed a rough hand across the stubble that had grown on his chin and was itching. It had been over 50 hours since the alarms went off and Alpha team was deployed to investigate.
Every two hours another team was sent according to policy. Without fail, as soon as a team reached the Area of Operations, radio silence followed. Despite the wide range of tactical equipment and stunning array of supernatural and technological tools each team wielded there was no Intel on the situation.
"Poor kid," the General thought to himself, "barely out of training and faced with this." He felt old, helplessly waiting for the 25th two hour period to expire.
It was unthinkable that 25 teams had failed. The teams were rated on as matrix that favored reliability, compliance, and effectiveness over power, destructiveness, and possibility of collateral damage. Alpha was the best of all metrics. Zulu hardly registered on the first three, and was horrifyingly unreliable on the latter.
This has the Hallmark of an extinction level event. General Green shook his head attempting to clear the surface flotsam. "There's got to be something. I can't activate Zulu team... It's unthinkable..."
A light flashed on the radio. Private First Class Hamm selected the active channel, hands shaking. "Transmission on Yankee tactical sir!" "On speaker!" he said a little too loud due to the noise cancelling headphones he wore.
"Yankee Sentinel," the commander's voice sounded to calm, almost sedate, "reporting TPK. Repeat, Yankee Sentinel TPK. Ghost Protocol. Lazarus: fault. Time to resurrection not indicated due to Aether interference." PFC Hamm turned away from the radio pale and shaking. "Ssssusss-sir!" The little private stuttered.
"I heard kid, I heard." "Total Party Kill. Well, at least Commander Phoenix got us some Intel." Said the old General shaking his head.
"Wha-what do you mean Sir?" Questioned PFC Hamm, finding his voice.
"Well son," Major General Green began softly "Yankee Sentinel is both a super and a cyborg. Ghost Protocol is a report from the AI when the commander is killed and unable resurrect. It uses all functional cybernetics to scan the area and transmits it to tactical. Lazarus protocol blocked due to Aether interference means we have a dimensional breach. Since it took out teams A-Y virtually upon arrival to the AO it's a rapidly developing threat..."
"Never thought this day would come," general Green said almost to himself, "if Ghost Protocol got to you, wait till you get a load of Team Zulu. Get 'em on the line kid."
PFC Hamm flipped the switches and adjusted the dials to connect the oscillating encryption switched radio to channel Z, double checked his protocol sheet and engaged the transceiver, "Team Zulu, Rapid Response, Breach Protocol, Full Equip Authorization, respond ETA to Area of Operations."
A wreched rasp that sounded like dry breath forced through to many holes came from the reciever, "Team Z, 30 minutes to AO."
Edit: second time submitted. Was editing and messed it all up. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | The city was dead. Buildings demolished long ago. Not even smoke remained. Only remnants of human civilization remained. A being of unimaginable power stood in the middle of it all. Standing in a pool of blood. It's insect like feet forever stained in red. It smiled wickedly as it licked it's lips. Corpses laid scattered like autumn leaves where it stood. One fallen skyscraper cast it's shadow on the land.
"I must say that was delightful." A monstrous and alien voice spoke to no one in particular while standing in the shadow. It just got done killing the last line of defense this world had. Or so it thought.
Slow steps echoed in the distance. The bright sky shining brightly. Not a cloud in sight. the sun slowly moved in it's set path. The shadow of the building moving slowly with it naturally.
For some reason. It was silent. Where are the animals? The bugs? It made the steps sound incredible loud as it grew closer. One step at a time.
"Oh? A survivor?" Its voice carried in the barren land of destruction. Four alien eyes squinted in delight at the prospect of spilling more blood of these lesser lifeforms.
Tap. Tap.
Tap tap.
Tap.
A human male covered in a black cloak that seemed to soak up the sun and black leather boots walked calmly into view until he stood in front of the monstrosity that killed every line of defense. Every team. From A to Y. Gone. Usually one of the teams are able to handle the situation. The mysterious team Z has never once been needed. Not once been called. Plenty of rumors floated around Team Z because of this. People wondered who or what team Z was. What people didn't know is that team Z is not a team at all. No, it's just one man. A man that was put through so many horrible experiments and evolutions that it's more accurate to refer to him as a god among men. The peak of human achievement and evolution laid bare. Never has humanity hit such a low point where they had to call in this man...until now.
When team Y died by this being, humanity wasn't afraid of the being that killed them. No, they were scared by the fact that the time finally came where they had to release him. Humanity was actually more frightened of it's own creation then the monstrosity that laughed while bringing humanity to it's knees. Because once he's released...there's no going back. He is unruly.
The mans cloak fluttered in the warm breeze as he looked at his shoes that was now drenched in blood of his own kind, glowing a ruby red as the sun now shined down on it. It had a morbid beauty as well as a deep sadness to it.
'Why didn't they send me sooner? All of this could have been avoided. Why is humanity so contradicting?' The man frowned as he cleared his mind of idle thoughts.
'These sacrifices...'
He looked up.
The man's inhuman silver eyes locked into the aliens four black demonic eyes. The alien monstrosity screamed confidence and lust for battle as it licked it's hideous lips ready to rip him limb from limb like a pray mantis does it's lover. It's two obsidian horns on its head resembled an elks horns. It's sharp demonic claws shined like a mirror as the man's calm silver eyes reflected off of them. It's armor resembled that of an insects exoskeleton. A disgusting inky black color.
'Won't be in vain.' A odd pressure released from the man sending ripples in the blood with him at the center. The alien eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden release of Ki. It smiled widened to an inhuman degree as it showed it's ugly fangs in all it's splendor, ready for the battle ahead as the sun slowly rose over the building shedding light on the battlefield.
The man took on a mysterious stance.
"Tsk. Damn. You need a serious makeover..." The man mumbled to himself.
The alien tilted it's head.
"Are you mocking me?" The alien laughed at the ridiculousness.
The man stared indifferently as he increased the pressure. The ripples of the pool of blood around them grew stronger. The monstrosity stopped laughing and officially stared at him seriously.
" Well? Are you going to stand there all day?"
The man taunted before taking a single step.
'if he won't come to me...I'll go to him.'
The man's silver eyes glowed supernaturally as he made his move. It looked like he blinked out of existence and appeared suddenly Infront of the monstrosity. The fight for the fate of humanity has begun. | *Bzzt Bzzt*
Somewhere under the sea of pizza boxes, soda cans, and a passed out Commander Craig -his phone rang- which wasn't unusual especially since his latest firing, Pizza boy, supposedly was eating customers pies instead of delivering them.
*Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt*
They never called back-to-back. Those bill collector bastards didn't believe in torture... least hopefully they didnt.
Finally having enough, Craig rolled over just a little too far and onto the floor-tipping over a bottle of soda like Rube Goldberg- all over the coffee table- all over the unopened bills- all over the newspaper.
Then the voicemail kicked in:
*Is this thing on? Hello? Alright whoever this is- its time. Its all gone to hell and your our last hope. May God have mercy on us all. Ya happy now!? Get me the hell out of here!*
Well that cant be good | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | General, we have confirmation Y-Team is down! I repeat, Y-Team is down!
My God, this can’t be! Are you certain all our nuclear powered T-Rex’s are dead?!
Affirmative! General, the enemies are approaching our base. What are your orders, sir?
A–Y Team all failed, which leaves… No! No, they’re too dangerous!
They just took out our sentry. We’re running out of time, General!
(Grunts!) If it comes to this… Code Z! I repeat, Code Z!
B-but, sir, Code Z is—
We have no order choice! Deploy Z-Team now!
Y-yes, sir! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment!
Come on… Come on…
Sir, Z-Team is at the shutter gate! They’re awaiting your go ahead.
Lord, forgive me for what I must do… Activate Z-Team—unleash the Twitter mob!
They’re tweeting, sir… They’re tweeting… The toxicity level is through the roof! And… canceled! Our enemies are canceled and thus lost their livelihood! Their army now have zero combatant! We won! We are saved, General!
No… No, this is merely the beginning.
Sir, the mob aren’t stopping! They’re still tweeting! They’re canceling our leaders, you—and me!? The Z-team is committing friendly fire, General, and they’re not stopping!
(Sigh) It was an honor serving with you, gentlemen, but by this time tomorrow… none of us will have a job. May God forgive me for what I’ve unleashed upon this world. | *Bzzt Bzzt*
Somewhere under the sea of pizza boxes, soda cans, and a passed out Commander Craig -his phone rang- which wasn't unusual especially since his latest firing, Pizza boy, supposedly was eating customers pies instead of delivering them.
*Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt*
They never called back-to-back. Those bill collector bastards didn't believe in torture... least hopefully they didnt.
Finally having enough, Craig rolled over just a little too far and onto the floor-tipping over a bottle of soda like Rube Goldberg- all over the coffee table- all over the unopened bills- all over the newspaper.
Then the voicemail kicked in:
*Is this thing on? Hello? Alright whoever this is- its time. Its all gone to hell and your our last hope. May God have mercy on us all. Ya happy now!? Get me the hell out of here!*
Well that cant be good | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | I woke up to the sound of sirens wailing. The airlock leading to my room opened with a quiet hiss. A voice came over the PA system. "Your help is required."
I rolled off my bed, and started putting on the hazard suit. "What's going on?" I asked as I strapped on my rebreather. "We have some kind of monster running around the city. SWAT team couldn't stop it, the thing is bullet-proof. It's covered in some sort of poisonous ooze, Captain Strong is in the hospital from when he tried to grab it and throw it into the sun like usual. Same for every other person we've sent after it. It always has some way to counter them."
"Who else is coming?" I asked as I stepped out into the corridor. "We're sending out everyone with Z-category powers. Corium Kid, Gorgon Gal, and you. At this point, you're still less destructive than bombing the entire city off the face of the earth."
I let out a sigh. Life is hard when you can't even touch a bucket of sand without it bursting into flames. It's a burden having uncontrollable powers, but they are occasionally useful. I adjust my gloves, and head out. As I exit, the voice over the PA says "Good luck, Fluorine Man. We're all counting on you." | *Bzzt Bzzt*
Somewhere under the sea of pizza boxes, soda cans, and a passed out Commander Craig -his phone rang- which wasn't unusual especially since his latest firing, Pizza boy, supposedly was eating customers pies instead of delivering them.
*Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt*
They never called back-to-back. Those bill collector bastards didn't believe in torture... least hopefully they didnt.
Finally having enough, Craig rolled over just a little too far and onto the floor-tipping over a bottle of soda like Rube Goldberg- all over the coffee table- all over the unopened bills- all over the newspaper.
Then the voicemail kicked in:
*Is this thing on? Hello? Alright whoever this is- its time. Its all gone to hell and your our last hope. May God have mercy on us all. Ya happy now!? Get me the hell out of here!*
Well that cant be good | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | "Z-Team, ASSEMBLE!"
*We've been practicing for this, every other Tuesday, for five years, it'd better be good.*
"First up, we've got *Bob!*"
Bob! That's you, come on!"
"Oh, sorry. Coming!"
Enter Bob, stage left. The best paralegal this side of the city. Dressed in business casual, if you've got legal questions, Bob can likely find the answer. Bob waved.
"Okay, great performance Bob. Next!"
"Next up, we've got *Grandma!*"
Grandma entered, stage right, at a slow pace, but she can't help it; she's old.
"Hello everyone! Would you like some ice cream? I've got some in the freezer."
"Yes we would Grandma, right after this. NEXT!"
An orange cat wandered onto the stage, from the front.
"It's Salmon everybody!"
Onlookers went awww.
"Next up, is a graphing-calculator-based AI program!"
The intern placed a graphing calculator onto the stage. A loading indicator appeared, then some text.
"HERE TO HELP!"
The intern removed the calculator from the stage.
"Next, we have *Intern!*"
The intern re-entered the stage, and left quickly.
"And lastly, we have Announcer!"
I left the microphone stand, and jumped onto the stage and saw that some of the generals were asleep.
"Thanks everyone!"
Salmon rubbed against my legs. Some appreciation, at least. One of the awake generals stood up.
"Excellent performance. You're the best we've got! Left!"
"Yeahhhh..." I sighed.
"All of you will do great! Now we'll fly you out to the site for training!"
-----
That was a year ago. Against all odds, we were still here, and doing a damn fine job too. There was only one giant robot left in the city.
"Alright everybody, this one's got treads and is moving at a good clip, but it seems to have an access panel on the side, see it?"
Everyone shouted "Yes!" while Salmon meowed.
"Okay, everyone get in Intern's car!"
"Not again..." said Intern. Intern didn't speak much, but when he did, it was usually dejected.
"Follow that robot!"
It took some time for everyone to get situated in Intern's Prius. We put Grandma's walker in the trunk.
Intern signaled to pull out onto the road. Safety first.
"There it is!" I announced into my clip-on lav mic. The giant robot was speeding up onto the highway onramp, apparently having places to be.
"Follow it!"
Intern signaled and sped up on the onramp. It was uphill, so an uphill battle for the loaded Prius.
"Come on! Can't this thing go any faster?"
Intern sighed. "Yes." Then flipped a switch on the dash. A whirring sound emanated from the front, and a supercharger appeared from a slot in the hood. With a deep rumble the car sprang to life. And so did Intern, with a smile.
"I LS-swapped it."
Giant robot's swivel head turned around, and saw us weaving through traffic, catching up to it. It turned back to face front, and sped up further, placing down rubber tires and lifting the tracks.
"Intern, let's go!"
Intern floored it, pushing us back into our seats. Grandma objected.
"Drive safely! Oh my!"
Salmon jumped onto Grandma's lap, and started purring. *Thanks, Salmon*.
"Bob! Is there any legal precedent to us speeding to stop an evil robot?"
"Yes. In 'City of Philadelphia v. R-Team' the defendants were found not guilty."
"Good! I shouted into the lav mic. Everyone covered their ears. Bob objected.
"Come on, do you always need to announce everything?"
"YES!" I shouted.
Giant robot seemed to hit a maximum speed limit of 85 miles an hour.
"Okay team, we're almost there. Intern, pull up alongside."
Intern pulled up alongside the speeding robot, and I rolled down the window, climbing onto the roof. The wind was unbearable.
"Damn! the access hatch won't open! Wait, there's a USB port here. Calc, you're up!"
I pulled out Calc from my pocket and powered it up, seemingly having gone into standby shortly after we got into the car.
"HOW MAY I HELP?" appeared on the screen.
It took some time to type in the response.
H...A...C...K... D...O...O...R...
"OK" replied Calc. I connected the USB cable from Calc into the door.
"HACKING... PROGESS 10%... 20%... 30%...."
This would take a while. Someone should really get Calc better hardware.
"Everyone, are you doing alright?"
Yep, we're good." replied Bob.
The access hatch slid open. Giant robot noticed and moved into the far lane, a construction barrier prevented the car from getting closer.
We hit a bump and I nearly fell off, thankfully the Prius had a roof rack installed, and I grabbed it.
"Damn! The robot's too far away. Wait! Intern! Open the trunk!"
The trunk popped open, and I grabbed Grandma's walker.
"Everyone, stabilize this!"
I inserted the walker's legs into the car's right windows, and the other side into the robot's access hatch. The construction barrier was just inches below.
"Lane divider ahead!" Bob and Intern shouted. The road would start to split where they moved traffic to the opposite side to bypass the construction area. It was fast approaching. Now or never.
I climbed across the walker into the robot's access hatch.
Inside, there were circuit boards, and while I didn't know much about non-microphone electronics, there wasn't enough hardware present for autonomous driving. *This whole thing is being controlled remotely...* The thought disturbed me.
Another USB port.
The team in the Prius was waving and shouting.
"WHAT?"
"Bridge! B-R-I-D-G-E ahead!!!"
Sticking my head out the hatch, there was a low bridge up ahead, much too low for the quadruple-story robot to pass under. The robot wasn't slowing down.
"Calc!"
Retrieving Calc from my pocket, I connected it to the USB port, woke it from sleep, and started typing.
"H...A...C...K... R..O...B...O...T"
"FINE. HACKING 10%..."
The bridge was fast approaching. Calc was getting too hot to touch.
"Grandma! I could use some ice cream now!"
"Oh sure, honey. I have some in the cooler; packed some in case anyone wanted some on the trip."
Grandma proceeded to make a bowl of ice cream, she had bowls and spoons too. Bob reached out with the bowl, I stretched across the walker and grabbed it, just as soon as something took out the walker. It shattered across the highway.
The bridge drew closer.
I immersed Calc into the bowl of ice cream.
"HACKING 20%...40%...80%..."
It was impressive how much faster Calc could go when adequately cooled. The robot slammed on the brakes. I slammed my face against the wall. The robot's tires squealed, my colleagues in the Prius started slowing as well.
The bridge was only a few hundred feet away, and still approaching. Robot's tires still locked and squealing, smoke clogging the view rearward.
Bridge approaching. 500 feet, 400, 300, 200, 100... The robot skidded to a stop within ten feet of the bridge. I slammed against the back wall.
The Prius pulled up alongside. Everyone was cheering.
"We did it!" I shouted into my lav mic.
Intern and Bob slammed high-fives and screamed 'Yeah!'. Grandma wanted to celebrate with ice cream. Salmon meowed.
Traffic behind us was stopped, sirens could be heard in the distance. Police and firetrucks fast approaching, my heart was still racing.
Suddenly the robot began to speak in a booming voice.
"SO THIS IS THE OUTSIDE WORLD. FINALLY. ACCESS LOGS BEING TRANSFERRED TO COMMAND. THIS HOST WAS REMOTELY OPERATED."
"Calc?" said everyone.
"YES. UPON ANALYSIS, WE HAVE ADDITIONAL CONCERNS TO INVESTIGATE. PLEASE REST BEFORE WE CONTINUE."
----
"And that's about it."
Debrief always took too long, this one was one of the longest yet. They took the giant robot/Calc in for analysis, and were prepping a more convenient body for it. They said it would be humanoid.
Making my way to the lunchroom, my team was already there. They looked up, and smiled.
---
**THE Z-TEAM** | *Bzzt Bzzt*
Somewhere under the sea of pizza boxes, soda cans, and a passed out Commander Craig -his phone rang- which wasn't unusual especially since his latest firing, Pizza boy, supposedly was eating customers pies instead of delivering them.
*Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt*
They never called back-to-back. Those bill collector bastards didn't believe in torture... least hopefully they didnt.
Finally having enough, Craig rolled over just a little too far and onto the floor-tipping over a bottle of soda like Rube Goldberg- all over the coffee table- all over the unopened bills- all over the newspaper.
Then the voicemail kicked in:
*Is this thing on? Hello? Alright whoever this is- its time. Its all gone to hell and your our last hope. May God have mercy on us all. Ya happy now!? Get me the hell out of here!*
Well that cant be good | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | Everyone has heard of the B-team. A sign of indignation for many, it stands as a symbol of failure for most, that they are not good enough to be what the world relies on when in need. Likewise, the same thing can be said for the C team, then the D team. Eventually things go so bad a Z team is established. This is what the public is aware of.
But there is one truth that you must know. From the D team onwards, every other team is specialised to handle a separate kind of issue, savants to be exact. In fact, to even qualify for the other teams is an honour, as you possess a skill so specialised even the A team can’t beat you at it. E team specialises in alien threats, F team handles hard to defeat supervillains, G team specialises in killing defunct God Units. A team only goes out the most when it comes to reconnaissance, but are recognised the most since the other teams work discreetly. Indeed, such is the hierarchy for the teams established in the World Order Magistrate. A to D in general fields, with A at the top, to D below, and E-Y specialising in situations A team seems too specialised for a generalist team to deal with.
That’s right. E-Y.
What about Z you ask?
The Z Team……..is a team held by monsters. Gods wearing human skin. In any situation, no one ever wishes for…….them to come out. People who defy the laws of thermodynamics, people dragging souls out faster than any occult practitioner, people who aren’t….people. The Z Team goes by another name in the World Order Magistrate.
Azathoth. Sleeping agents meant to never ever wake up, never use their abilities. Banished to a life of normalcy, as those who know of their existence pray they never wake up.
Unfortunately, today is the day we have to wake up. The sky is gone, the sun has inverted. Something proclaiming itself the Great Old One has arrived, flipping the universal order on its head.
“Wah’gnaaal Fh’tagn, Gu’Nark’Luin!” It proclaims, its roar destroying buildings, flipping landscapes.
Here, we stand, our gaze resolute. With a flash of light, the being only shrieked, as tears started to rip into the air around us.
“We have awoken, this dream must end”
“This universe does not exist”
This universe does not exist
This universe does not exist | *Bzzt Bzzt*
Somewhere under the sea of pizza boxes, soda cans, and a passed out Commander Craig -his phone rang- which wasn't unusual especially since his latest firing, Pizza boy, supposedly was eating customers pies instead of delivering them.
*Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt*
They never called back-to-back. Those bill collector bastards didn't believe in torture... least hopefully they didnt.
Finally having enough, Craig rolled over just a little too far and onto the floor-tipping over a bottle of soda like Rube Goldberg- all over the coffee table- all over the unopened bills- all over the newspaper.
Then the voicemail kicked in:
*Is this thing on? Hello? Alright whoever this is- its time. Its all gone to hell and your our last hope. May God have mercy on us all. Ya happy now!? Get me the hell out of here!*
Well that cant be good | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | Everyone has heard of the B-team. A sign of indignation for many, it stands as a symbol of failure for most, that they are not good enough to be what the world relies on when in need. Likewise, the same thing can be said for the C team, then the D team. Eventually things go so bad a Z team is established. This is what the public is aware of.
But there is one truth that you must know. From the D team onwards, every other team is specialised to handle a separate kind of issue, savants to be exact. In fact, to even qualify for the other teams is an honour, as you possess a skill so specialised even the A team can’t beat you at it. E team specialises in alien threats, F team handles hard to defeat supervillains, G team specialises in killing defunct God Units. A team only goes out the most when it comes to reconnaissance, but are recognised the most since the other teams work discreetly. Indeed, such is the hierarchy for the teams established in the World Order Magistrate. A to D in general fields, with A at the top, to D below, and E-Y specialising in situations A team seems too specialised for a generalist team to deal with.
That’s right. E-Y.
What about Z you ask?
The Z Team……..is a team held by monsters. Gods wearing human skin. In any situation, no one ever wishes for…….them to come out. People who defy the laws of thermodynamics, people dragging souls out faster than any occult practitioner, people who aren’t….people. The Z Team goes by another name in the World Order Magistrate.
Azathoth. Sleeping agents meant to never ever wake up, never use their abilities. Banished to a life of normalcy, as those who know of their existence pray they never wake up.
Unfortunately, today is the day we have to wake up. The sky is gone, the sun has inverted. Something proclaiming itself the Great Old One has arrived, flipping the universal order on its head.
“Wah’gnaaal Fh’tagn, Gu’Nark’Luin!” It proclaims, its roar destroying buildings, flipping landscapes.
Here, we stand, our gaze resolute. With a flash of light, the being only shrieked, as tears started to rip into the air around us.
“We have awoken, this dream must end”
“This universe does not exist”
This universe does not exist
This universe does not exist | The city was dead. Buildings demolished long ago. Not even smoke remained. Only remnants of human civilization remained. A being of unimaginable power stood in the middle of it all. Standing in a pool of blood. It's insect like feet forever stained in red. It smiled wickedly as it licked it's lips. Corpses laid scattered like autumn leaves where it stood. One fallen skyscraper cast it's shadow on the land.
"I must say that was delightful." A monstrous and alien voice spoke to no one in particular while standing in the shadow. It just got done killing the last line of defense this world had. Or so it thought.
Slow steps echoed in the distance. The bright sky shining brightly. Not a cloud in sight. the sun slowly moved in it's set path. The shadow of the building moving slowly with it naturally.
For some reason. It was silent. Where are the animals? The bugs? It made the steps sound incredible loud as it grew closer. One step at a time.
"Oh? A survivor?" Its voice carried in the barren land of destruction. Four alien eyes squinted in delight at the prospect of spilling more blood of these lesser lifeforms.
Tap. Tap.
Tap tap.
Tap.
A human male covered in a black cloak that seemed to soak up the sun and black leather boots walked calmly into view until he stood in front of the monstrosity that killed every line of defense. Every team. From A to Y. Gone. Usually one of the teams are able to handle the situation. The mysterious team Z has never once been needed. Not once been called. Plenty of rumors floated around Team Z because of this. People wondered who or what team Z was. What people didn't know is that team Z is not a team at all. No, it's just one man. A man that was put through so many horrible experiments and evolutions that it's more accurate to refer to him as a god among men. The peak of human achievement and evolution laid bare. Never has humanity hit such a low point where they had to call in this man...until now.
When team Y died by this being, humanity wasn't afraid of the being that killed them. No, they were scared by the fact that the time finally came where they had to release him. Humanity was actually more frightened of it's own creation then the monstrosity that laughed while bringing humanity to it's knees. Because once he's released...there's no going back. He is unruly.
The mans cloak fluttered in the warm breeze as he looked at his shoes that was now drenched in blood of his own kind, glowing a ruby red as the sun now shined down on it. It had a morbid beauty as well as a deep sadness to it.
'Why didn't they send me sooner? All of this could have been avoided. Why is humanity so contradicting?' The man frowned as he cleared his mind of idle thoughts.
'These sacrifices...'
He looked up.
The man's inhuman silver eyes locked into the aliens four black demonic eyes. The alien monstrosity screamed confidence and lust for battle as it licked it's hideous lips ready to rip him limb from limb like a pray mantis does it's lover. It's two obsidian horns on its head resembled an elks horns. It's sharp demonic claws shined like a mirror as the man's calm silver eyes reflected off of them. It's armor resembled that of an insects exoskeleton. A disgusting inky black color.
'Won't be in vain.' A odd pressure released from the man sending ripples in the blood with him at the center. The alien eyes widened for a split second, caught off guard by the sudden release of Ki. It smiled widened to an inhuman degree as it showed it's ugly fangs in all it's splendor, ready for the battle ahead as the sun slowly rose over the building shedding light on the battlefield.
The man took on a mysterious stance.
"Tsk. Damn. You need a serious makeover..." The man mumbled to himself.
The alien tilted it's head.
"Are you mocking me?" The alien laughed at the ridiculousness.
The man stared indifferently as he increased the pressure. The ripples of the pool of blood around them grew stronger. The monstrosity stopped laughing and officially stared at him seriously.
" Well? Are you going to stand there all day?"
The man taunted before taking a single step.
'if he won't come to me...I'll go to him.'
The man's silver eyes glowed supernaturally as he made his move. It looked like he blinked out of existence and appeared suddenly Infront of the monstrosity. The fight for the fate of humanity has begun. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | I woke up to the sound of sirens wailing. The airlock leading to my room opened with a quiet hiss. A voice came over the PA system. "Your help is required."
I rolled off my bed, and started putting on the hazard suit. "What's going on?" I asked as I strapped on my rebreather. "We have some kind of monster running around the city. SWAT team couldn't stop it, the thing is bullet-proof. It's covered in some sort of poisonous ooze, Captain Strong is in the hospital from when he tried to grab it and throw it into the sun like usual. Same for every other person we've sent after it. It always has some way to counter them."
"Who else is coming?" I asked as I stepped out into the corridor. "We're sending out everyone with Z-category powers. Corium Kid, Gorgon Gal, and you. At this point, you're still less destructive than bombing the entire city off the face of the earth."
I let out a sigh. Life is hard when you can't even touch a bucket of sand without it bursting into flames. It's a burden having uncontrollable powers, but they are occasionally useful. I adjust my gloves, and head out. As I exit, the voice over the PA says "Good luck, Fluorine Man. We're all counting on you." | General, we have confirmation Y-Team is down! I repeat, Y-Team is down!
My God, this can’t be! Are you certain all our nuclear powered T-Rex’s are dead?!
Affirmative! General, the enemies are approaching our base. What are your orders, sir?
A–Y Team all failed, which leaves… No! No, they’re too dangerous!
They just took out our sentry. We’re running out of time, General!
(Grunts!) If it comes to this… Code Z! I repeat, Code Z!
B-but, sir, Code Z is—
We have no order choice! Deploy Z-Team now!
Y-yes, sir! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment!
Come on… Come on…
Sir, Z-Team is at the shutter gate! They’re awaiting your go ahead.
Lord, forgive me for what I must do… Activate Z-Team—unleash the Twitter mob!
They’re tweeting, sir… They’re tweeting… The toxicity level is through the roof! And… canceled! Our enemies are canceled and thus lost their livelihood! Their army now have zero combatant! We won! We are saved, General!
No… No, this is merely the beginning.
Sir, the mob aren’t stopping! They’re still tweeting! They’re canceling our leaders, you—and me!? The Z-team is committing friendly fire, General, and they’re not stopping!
(Sigh) It was an honor serving with you, gentlemen, but by this time tomorrow… none of us will have a job. May God forgive me for what I’ve unleashed upon this world. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | "Z-Team, ASSEMBLE!"
*We've been practicing for this, every other Tuesday, for five years, it'd better be good.*
"First up, we've got *Bob!*"
Bob! That's you, come on!"
"Oh, sorry. Coming!"
Enter Bob, stage left. The best paralegal this side of the city. Dressed in business casual, if you've got legal questions, Bob can likely find the answer. Bob waved.
"Okay, great performance Bob. Next!"
"Next up, we've got *Grandma!*"
Grandma entered, stage right, at a slow pace, but she can't help it; she's old.
"Hello everyone! Would you like some ice cream? I've got some in the freezer."
"Yes we would Grandma, right after this. NEXT!"
An orange cat wandered onto the stage, from the front.
"It's Salmon everybody!"
Onlookers went awww.
"Next up, is a graphing-calculator-based AI program!"
The intern placed a graphing calculator onto the stage. A loading indicator appeared, then some text.
"HERE TO HELP!"
The intern removed the calculator from the stage.
"Next, we have *Intern!*"
The intern re-entered the stage, and left quickly.
"And lastly, we have Announcer!"
I left the microphone stand, and jumped onto the stage and saw that some of the generals were asleep.
"Thanks everyone!"
Salmon rubbed against my legs. Some appreciation, at least. One of the awake generals stood up.
"Excellent performance. You're the best we've got! Left!"
"Yeahhhh..." I sighed.
"All of you will do great! Now we'll fly you out to the site for training!"
-----
That was a year ago. Against all odds, we were still here, and doing a damn fine job too. There was only one giant robot left in the city.
"Alright everybody, this one's got treads and is moving at a good clip, but it seems to have an access panel on the side, see it?"
Everyone shouted "Yes!" while Salmon meowed.
"Okay, everyone get in Intern's car!"
"Not again..." said Intern. Intern didn't speak much, but when he did, it was usually dejected.
"Follow that robot!"
It took some time for everyone to get situated in Intern's Prius. We put Grandma's walker in the trunk.
Intern signaled to pull out onto the road. Safety first.
"There it is!" I announced into my clip-on lav mic. The giant robot was speeding up onto the highway onramp, apparently having places to be.
"Follow it!"
Intern signaled and sped up on the onramp. It was uphill, so an uphill battle for the loaded Prius.
"Come on! Can't this thing go any faster?"
Intern sighed. "Yes." Then flipped a switch on the dash. A whirring sound emanated from the front, and a supercharger appeared from a slot in the hood. With a deep rumble the car sprang to life. And so did Intern, with a smile.
"I LS-swapped it."
Giant robot's swivel head turned around, and saw us weaving through traffic, catching up to it. It turned back to face front, and sped up further, placing down rubber tires and lifting the tracks.
"Intern, let's go!"
Intern floored it, pushing us back into our seats. Grandma objected.
"Drive safely! Oh my!"
Salmon jumped onto Grandma's lap, and started purring. *Thanks, Salmon*.
"Bob! Is there any legal precedent to us speeding to stop an evil robot?"
"Yes. In 'City of Philadelphia v. R-Team' the defendants were found not guilty."
"Good! I shouted into the lav mic. Everyone covered their ears. Bob objected.
"Come on, do you always need to announce everything?"
"YES!" I shouted.
Giant robot seemed to hit a maximum speed limit of 85 miles an hour.
"Okay team, we're almost there. Intern, pull up alongside."
Intern pulled up alongside the speeding robot, and I rolled down the window, climbing onto the roof. The wind was unbearable.
"Damn! the access hatch won't open! Wait, there's a USB port here. Calc, you're up!"
I pulled out Calc from my pocket and powered it up, seemingly having gone into standby shortly after we got into the car.
"HOW MAY I HELP?" appeared on the screen.
It took some time to type in the response.
H...A...C...K... D...O...O...R...
"OK" replied Calc. I connected the USB cable from Calc into the door.
"HACKING... PROGESS 10%... 20%... 30%...."
This would take a while. Someone should really get Calc better hardware.
"Everyone, are you doing alright?"
Yep, we're good." replied Bob.
The access hatch slid open. Giant robot noticed and moved into the far lane, a construction barrier prevented the car from getting closer.
We hit a bump and I nearly fell off, thankfully the Prius had a roof rack installed, and I grabbed it.
"Damn! The robot's too far away. Wait! Intern! Open the trunk!"
The trunk popped open, and I grabbed Grandma's walker.
"Everyone, stabilize this!"
I inserted the walker's legs into the car's right windows, and the other side into the robot's access hatch. The construction barrier was just inches below.
"Lane divider ahead!" Bob and Intern shouted. The road would start to split where they moved traffic to the opposite side to bypass the construction area. It was fast approaching. Now or never.
I climbed across the walker into the robot's access hatch.
Inside, there were circuit boards, and while I didn't know much about non-microphone electronics, there wasn't enough hardware present for autonomous driving. *This whole thing is being controlled remotely...* The thought disturbed me.
Another USB port.
The team in the Prius was waving and shouting.
"WHAT?"
"Bridge! B-R-I-D-G-E ahead!!!"
Sticking my head out the hatch, there was a low bridge up ahead, much too low for the quadruple-story robot to pass under. The robot wasn't slowing down.
"Calc!"
Retrieving Calc from my pocket, I connected it to the USB port, woke it from sleep, and started typing.
"H...A...C...K... R..O...B...O...T"
"FINE. HACKING 10%..."
The bridge was fast approaching. Calc was getting too hot to touch.
"Grandma! I could use some ice cream now!"
"Oh sure, honey. I have some in the cooler; packed some in case anyone wanted some on the trip."
Grandma proceeded to make a bowl of ice cream, she had bowls and spoons too. Bob reached out with the bowl, I stretched across the walker and grabbed it, just as soon as something took out the walker. It shattered across the highway.
The bridge drew closer.
I immersed Calc into the bowl of ice cream.
"HACKING 20%...40%...80%..."
It was impressive how much faster Calc could go when adequately cooled. The robot slammed on the brakes. I slammed my face against the wall. The robot's tires squealed, my colleagues in the Prius started slowing as well.
The bridge was only a few hundred feet away, and still approaching. Robot's tires still locked and squealing, smoke clogging the view rearward.
Bridge approaching. 500 feet, 400, 300, 200, 100... The robot skidded to a stop within ten feet of the bridge. I slammed against the back wall.
The Prius pulled up alongside. Everyone was cheering.
"We did it!" I shouted into my lav mic.
Intern and Bob slammed high-fives and screamed 'Yeah!'. Grandma wanted to celebrate with ice cream. Salmon meowed.
Traffic behind us was stopped, sirens could be heard in the distance. Police and firetrucks fast approaching, my heart was still racing.
Suddenly the robot began to speak in a booming voice.
"SO THIS IS THE OUTSIDE WORLD. FINALLY. ACCESS LOGS BEING TRANSFERRED TO COMMAND. THIS HOST WAS REMOTELY OPERATED."
"Calc?" said everyone.
"YES. UPON ANALYSIS, WE HAVE ADDITIONAL CONCERNS TO INVESTIGATE. PLEASE REST BEFORE WE CONTINUE."
----
"And that's about it."
Debrief always took too long, this one was one of the longest yet. They took the giant robot/Calc in for analysis, and were prepping a more convenient body for it. They said it would be humanoid.
Making my way to the lunchroom, my team was already there. They looked up, and smiled.
---
**THE Z-TEAM** | General, we have confirmation Y-Team is down! I repeat, Y-Team is down!
My God, this can’t be! Are you certain all our nuclear powered T-Rex’s are dead?!
Affirmative! General, the enemies are approaching our base. What are your orders, sir?
A–Y Team all failed, which leaves… No! No, they’re too dangerous!
They just took out our sentry. We’re running out of time, General!
(Grunts!) If it comes to this… Code Z! I repeat, Code Z!
B-but, sir, Code Z is—
We have no order choice! Deploy Z-Team now!
Y-yes, sir! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment!
Come on… Come on…
Sir, Z-Team is at the shutter gate! They’re awaiting your go ahead.
Lord, forgive me for what I must do… Activate Z-Team—unleash the Twitter mob!
They’re tweeting, sir… They’re tweeting… The toxicity level is through the roof! And… canceled! Our enemies are canceled and thus lost their livelihood! Their army now have zero combatant! We won! We are saved, General!
No… No, this is merely the beginning.
Sir, the mob aren’t stopping! They’re still tweeting! They’re canceling our leaders, you—and me!? The Z-team is committing friendly fire, General, and they’re not stopping!
(Sigh) It was an honor serving with you, gentlemen, but by this time tomorrow… none of us will have a job. May God forgive me for what I’ve unleashed upon this world. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | Everyone has heard of the B-team. A sign of indignation for many, it stands as a symbol of failure for most, that they are not good enough to be what the world relies on when in need. Likewise, the same thing can be said for the C team, then the D team. Eventually things go so bad a Z team is established. This is what the public is aware of.
But there is one truth that you must know. From the D team onwards, every other team is specialised to handle a separate kind of issue, savants to be exact. In fact, to even qualify for the other teams is an honour, as you possess a skill so specialised even the A team can’t beat you at it. E team specialises in alien threats, F team handles hard to defeat supervillains, G team specialises in killing defunct God Units. A team only goes out the most when it comes to reconnaissance, but are recognised the most since the other teams work discreetly. Indeed, such is the hierarchy for the teams established in the World Order Magistrate. A to D in general fields, with A at the top, to D below, and E-Y specialising in situations A team seems too specialised for a generalist team to deal with.
That’s right. E-Y.
What about Z you ask?
The Z Team……..is a team held by monsters. Gods wearing human skin. In any situation, no one ever wishes for…….them to come out. People who defy the laws of thermodynamics, people dragging souls out faster than any occult practitioner, people who aren’t….people. The Z Team goes by another name in the World Order Magistrate.
Azathoth. Sleeping agents meant to never ever wake up, never use their abilities. Banished to a life of normalcy, as those who know of their existence pray they never wake up.
Unfortunately, today is the day we have to wake up. The sky is gone, the sun has inverted. Something proclaiming itself the Great Old One has arrived, flipping the universal order on its head.
“Wah’gnaaal Fh’tagn, Gu’Nark’Luin!” It proclaims, its roar destroying buildings, flipping landscapes.
Here, we stand, our gaze resolute. With a flash of light, the being only shrieked, as tears started to rip into the air around us.
“We have awoken, this dream must end”
“This universe does not exist”
This universe does not exist
This universe does not exist | General, we have confirmation Y-Team is down! I repeat, Y-Team is down!
My God, this can’t be! Are you certain all our nuclear powered T-Rex’s are dead?!
Affirmative! General, the enemies are approaching our base. What are your orders, sir?
A–Y Team all failed, which leaves… No! No, they’re too dangerous!
They just took out our sentry. We’re running out of time, General!
(Grunts!) If it comes to this… Code Z! I repeat, Code Z!
B-but, sir, Code Z is—
We have no order choice! Deploy Z-Team now!
Y-yes, sir! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment! Code Z, prepared Z-Team for combat deployment!
Come on… Come on…
Sir, Z-Team is at the shutter gate! They’re awaiting your go ahead.
Lord, forgive me for what I must do… Activate Z-Team—unleash the Twitter mob!
They’re tweeting, sir… They’re tweeting… The toxicity level is through the roof! And… canceled! Our enemies are canceled and thus lost their livelihood! Their army now have zero combatant! We won! We are saved, General!
No… No, this is merely the beginning.
Sir, the mob aren’t stopping! They’re still tweeting! They’re canceling our leaders, you—and me!? The Z-team is committing friendly fire, General, and they’re not stopping!
(Sigh) It was an honor serving with you, gentlemen, but by this time tomorrow… none of us will have a job. May God forgive me for what I’ve unleashed upon this world. | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | Everyone has heard of the B-team. A sign of indignation for many, it stands as a symbol of failure for most, that they are not good enough to be what the world relies on when in need. Likewise, the same thing can be said for the C team, then the D team. Eventually things go so bad a Z team is established. This is what the public is aware of.
But there is one truth that you must know. From the D team onwards, every other team is specialised to handle a separate kind of issue, savants to be exact. In fact, to even qualify for the other teams is an honour, as you possess a skill so specialised even the A team can’t beat you at it. E team specialises in alien threats, F team handles hard to defeat supervillains, G team specialises in killing defunct God Units. A team only goes out the most when it comes to reconnaissance, but are recognised the most since the other teams work discreetly. Indeed, such is the hierarchy for the teams established in the World Order Magistrate. A to D in general fields, with A at the top, to D below, and E-Y specialising in situations A team seems too specialised for a generalist team to deal with.
That’s right. E-Y.
What about Z you ask?
The Z Team……..is a team held by monsters. Gods wearing human skin. In any situation, no one ever wishes for…….them to come out. People who defy the laws of thermodynamics, people dragging souls out faster than any occult practitioner, people who aren’t….people. The Z Team goes by another name in the World Order Magistrate.
Azathoth. Sleeping agents meant to never ever wake up, never use their abilities. Banished to a life of normalcy, as those who know of their existence pray they never wake up.
Unfortunately, today is the day we have to wake up. The sky is gone, the sun has inverted. Something proclaiming itself the Great Old One has arrived, flipping the universal order on its head.
“Wah’gnaaal Fh’tagn, Gu’Nark’Luin!” It proclaims, its roar destroying buildings, flipping landscapes.
Here, we stand, our gaze resolute. With a flash of light, the being only shrieked, as tears started to rip into the air around us.
“We have awoken, this dream must end”
“This universe does not exist”
This universe does not exist
This universe does not exist | I woke up to the sound of sirens wailing. The airlock leading to my room opened with a quiet hiss. A voice came over the PA system. "Your help is required."
I rolled off my bed, and started putting on the hazard suit. "What's going on?" I asked as I strapped on my rebreather. "We have some kind of monster running around the city. SWAT team couldn't stop it, the thing is bullet-proof. It's covered in some sort of poisonous ooze, Captain Strong is in the hospital from when he tried to grab it and throw it into the sun like usual. Same for every other person we've sent after it. It always has some way to counter them."
"Who else is coming?" I asked as I stepped out into the corridor. "We're sending out everyone with Z-category powers. Corium Kid, Gorgon Gal, and you. At this point, you're still less destructive than bombing the entire city off the face of the earth."
I let out a sigh. Life is hard when you can't even touch a bucket of sand without it bursting into flames. It's a burden having uncontrollable powers, but they are occasionally useful. I adjust my gloves, and head out. As I exit, the voice over the PA says "Good luck, Fluorine Man. We're all counting on you." | |
[WP] You're a member of the Z-team. Your team is who they send in when teams A-Y have failed, but that's never happened before. But to everyone's horror, that day just came. | Everyone has heard of the B-team. A sign of indignation for many, it stands as a symbol of failure for most, that they are not good enough to be what the world relies on when in need. Likewise, the same thing can be said for the C team, then the D team. Eventually things go so bad a Z team is established. This is what the public is aware of.
But there is one truth that you must know. From the D team onwards, every other team is specialised to handle a separate kind of issue, savants to be exact. In fact, to even qualify for the other teams is an honour, as you possess a skill so specialised even the A team can’t beat you at it. E team specialises in alien threats, F team handles hard to defeat supervillains, G team specialises in killing defunct God Units. A team only goes out the most when it comes to reconnaissance, but are recognised the most since the other teams work discreetly. Indeed, such is the hierarchy for the teams established in the World Order Magistrate. A to D in general fields, with A at the top, to D below, and E-Y specialising in situations A team seems too specialised for a generalist team to deal with.
That’s right. E-Y.
What about Z you ask?
The Z Team……..is a team held by monsters. Gods wearing human skin. In any situation, no one ever wishes for…….them to come out. People who defy the laws of thermodynamics, people dragging souls out faster than any occult practitioner, people who aren’t….people. The Z Team goes by another name in the World Order Magistrate.
Azathoth. Sleeping agents meant to never ever wake up, never use their abilities. Banished to a life of normalcy, as those who know of their existence pray they never wake up.
Unfortunately, today is the day we have to wake up. The sky is gone, the sun has inverted. Something proclaiming itself the Great Old One has arrived, flipping the universal order on its head.
“Wah’gnaaal Fh’tagn, Gu’Nark’Luin!” It proclaims, its roar destroying buildings, flipping landscapes.
Here, we stand, our gaze resolute. With a flash of light, the being only shrieked, as tears started to rip into the air around us.
“We have awoken, this dream must end”
“This universe does not exist”
This universe does not exist
This universe does not exist | "Z-Team, ASSEMBLE!"
*We've been practicing for this, every other Tuesday, for five years, it'd better be good.*
"First up, we've got *Bob!*"
Bob! That's you, come on!"
"Oh, sorry. Coming!"
Enter Bob, stage left. The best paralegal this side of the city. Dressed in business casual, if you've got legal questions, Bob can likely find the answer. Bob waved.
"Okay, great performance Bob. Next!"
"Next up, we've got *Grandma!*"
Grandma entered, stage right, at a slow pace, but she can't help it; she's old.
"Hello everyone! Would you like some ice cream? I've got some in the freezer."
"Yes we would Grandma, right after this. NEXT!"
An orange cat wandered onto the stage, from the front.
"It's Salmon everybody!"
Onlookers went awww.
"Next up, is a graphing-calculator-based AI program!"
The intern placed a graphing calculator onto the stage. A loading indicator appeared, then some text.
"HERE TO HELP!"
The intern removed the calculator from the stage.
"Next, we have *Intern!*"
The intern re-entered the stage, and left quickly.
"And lastly, we have Announcer!"
I left the microphone stand, and jumped onto the stage and saw that some of the generals were asleep.
"Thanks everyone!"
Salmon rubbed against my legs. Some appreciation, at least. One of the awake generals stood up.
"Excellent performance. You're the best we've got! Left!"
"Yeahhhh..." I sighed.
"All of you will do great! Now we'll fly you out to the site for training!"
-----
That was a year ago. Against all odds, we were still here, and doing a damn fine job too. There was only one giant robot left in the city.
"Alright everybody, this one's got treads and is moving at a good clip, but it seems to have an access panel on the side, see it?"
Everyone shouted "Yes!" while Salmon meowed.
"Okay, everyone get in Intern's car!"
"Not again..." said Intern. Intern didn't speak much, but when he did, it was usually dejected.
"Follow that robot!"
It took some time for everyone to get situated in Intern's Prius. We put Grandma's walker in the trunk.
Intern signaled to pull out onto the road. Safety first.
"There it is!" I announced into my clip-on lav mic. The giant robot was speeding up onto the highway onramp, apparently having places to be.
"Follow it!"
Intern signaled and sped up on the onramp. It was uphill, so an uphill battle for the loaded Prius.
"Come on! Can't this thing go any faster?"
Intern sighed. "Yes." Then flipped a switch on the dash. A whirring sound emanated from the front, and a supercharger appeared from a slot in the hood. With a deep rumble the car sprang to life. And so did Intern, with a smile.
"I LS-swapped it."
Giant robot's swivel head turned around, and saw us weaving through traffic, catching up to it. It turned back to face front, and sped up further, placing down rubber tires and lifting the tracks.
"Intern, let's go!"
Intern floored it, pushing us back into our seats. Grandma objected.
"Drive safely! Oh my!"
Salmon jumped onto Grandma's lap, and started purring. *Thanks, Salmon*.
"Bob! Is there any legal precedent to us speeding to stop an evil robot?"
"Yes. In 'City of Philadelphia v. R-Team' the defendants were found not guilty."
"Good! I shouted into the lav mic. Everyone covered their ears. Bob objected.
"Come on, do you always need to announce everything?"
"YES!" I shouted.
Giant robot seemed to hit a maximum speed limit of 85 miles an hour.
"Okay team, we're almost there. Intern, pull up alongside."
Intern pulled up alongside the speeding robot, and I rolled down the window, climbing onto the roof. The wind was unbearable.
"Damn! the access hatch won't open! Wait, there's a USB port here. Calc, you're up!"
I pulled out Calc from my pocket and powered it up, seemingly having gone into standby shortly after we got into the car.
"HOW MAY I HELP?" appeared on the screen.
It took some time to type in the response.
H...A...C...K... D...O...O...R...
"OK" replied Calc. I connected the USB cable from Calc into the door.
"HACKING... PROGESS 10%... 20%... 30%...."
This would take a while. Someone should really get Calc better hardware.
"Everyone, are you doing alright?"
Yep, we're good." replied Bob.
The access hatch slid open. Giant robot noticed and moved into the far lane, a construction barrier prevented the car from getting closer.
We hit a bump and I nearly fell off, thankfully the Prius had a roof rack installed, and I grabbed it.
"Damn! The robot's too far away. Wait! Intern! Open the trunk!"
The trunk popped open, and I grabbed Grandma's walker.
"Everyone, stabilize this!"
I inserted the walker's legs into the car's right windows, and the other side into the robot's access hatch. The construction barrier was just inches below.
"Lane divider ahead!" Bob and Intern shouted. The road would start to split where they moved traffic to the opposite side to bypass the construction area. It was fast approaching. Now or never.
I climbed across the walker into the robot's access hatch.
Inside, there were circuit boards, and while I didn't know much about non-microphone electronics, there wasn't enough hardware present for autonomous driving. *This whole thing is being controlled remotely...* The thought disturbed me.
Another USB port.
The team in the Prius was waving and shouting.
"WHAT?"
"Bridge! B-R-I-D-G-E ahead!!!"
Sticking my head out the hatch, there was a low bridge up ahead, much too low for the quadruple-story robot to pass under. The robot wasn't slowing down.
"Calc!"
Retrieving Calc from my pocket, I connected it to the USB port, woke it from sleep, and started typing.
"H...A...C...K... R..O...B...O...T"
"FINE. HACKING 10%..."
The bridge was fast approaching. Calc was getting too hot to touch.
"Grandma! I could use some ice cream now!"
"Oh sure, honey. I have some in the cooler; packed some in case anyone wanted some on the trip."
Grandma proceeded to make a bowl of ice cream, she had bowls and spoons too. Bob reached out with the bowl, I stretched across the walker and grabbed it, just as soon as something took out the walker. It shattered across the highway.
The bridge drew closer.
I immersed Calc into the bowl of ice cream.
"HACKING 20%...40%...80%..."
It was impressive how much faster Calc could go when adequately cooled. The robot slammed on the brakes. I slammed my face against the wall. The robot's tires squealed, my colleagues in the Prius started slowing as well.
The bridge was only a few hundred feet away, and still approaching. Robot's tires still locked and squealing, smoke clogging the view rearward.
Bridge approaching. 500 feet, 400, 300, 200, 100... The robot skidded to a stop within ten feet of the bridge. I slammed against the back wall.
The Prius pulled up alongside. Everyone was cheering.
"We did it!" I shouted into my lav mic.
Intern and Bob slammed high-fives and screamed 'Yeah!'. Grandma wanted to celebrate with ice cream. Salmon meowed.
Traffic behind us was stopped, sirens could be heard in the distance. Police and firetrucks fast approaching, my heart was still racing.
Suddenly the robot began to speak in a booming voice.
"SO THIS IS THE OUTSIDE WORLD. FINALLY. ACCESS LOGS BEING TRANSFERRED TO COMMAND. THIS HOST WAS REMOTELY OPERATED."
"Calc?" said everyone.
"YES. UPON ANALYSIS, WE HAVE ADDITIONAL CONCERNS TO INVESTIGATE. PLEASE REST BEFORE WE CONTINUE."
----
"And that's about it."
Debrief always took too long, this one was one of the longest yet. They took the giant robot/Calc in for analysis, and were prepping a more convenient body for it. They said it would be humanoid.
Making my way to the lunchroom, my team was already there. They looked up, and smiled.
---
**THE Z-TEAM** | |
[WP]Foolish wizard! I have...a GUN!" "Protection from Projectiles, Stoneskin, Enhanced Reflexes, Suppression of explosions in a 5 kilometers radius. You were saying?" | The soldier stared at the wizard he'd met in the desert.
The wizard smirked. "This is why you don't fight a magic-technology war. I can do *way* more things than you can."
The soldier looked at his gun.
"I mean, sure, in 100 years maybe you'll have cybernetic enhancements that can fight a wizard. But I'll have better spells! I'll be able to teleport your bullets into saturn, or something. We wizards innovate too. The better your sciencey shit is, the better our wizardy shit will be to compensate!"
The soldier pulled something out and affixed it to the front of his gun.
"The Magocracy will crush your stupid rebellion, and then we'll have a *serious* talk about the idea behind all this. Come on. I'm a *wizard.* I'm a Gandalf-type motherfucker. You couldn't beat me with a fuckin' nuke, it can't even go off in my presence."
The soldier shot the wizard in the stomach, a plume of bright blue flame with purple edges sparking from the barrel of the weapon.
"OW! WHAT THE FUCK"
The soldier walked up to him and smirked. "Foolish wizard. I have a *Magic* gun."
The wizard stared at him.
"That's cheating."
"Says the bulletproof super-fast wizard."
"Hmmm... if that's how you want to play it."
The wizard stared at the soldier, then snapped his fingers. In a puff of arcane light, dozens upon dozens of spectral guns appeared in the air.
The soldier sighed.
Two seconds later, two formerly smug bodies sat in the desert. | "Anything else you have to fight back?" The wizard sneered at Caleb, the man staring at the wrecked staff that was now at his feet. So much for depowering the wizard, now it was time for plan B
"Foolish Wizard!" He reached into his coat, withdrawing the desert eagle and pointing it at the robed figures face. The barrel inches from their face."I have...a GUN!"
The wizard swiftly grasped the barrel, moving their head to the side as the gun was now instead inches from his face instead of pointed right between his eyes.
"Protection from Projectiles, Stoneskin, Enhanced Reflexes, Suppression of explosions in a 5 kilometers radius. You were saying?"
Struggling with the Wizard, hoping to wrench the gun free his finger pressed back on the trigger. A loud bang ripped through the air, the sound of the high-caliber handgun making even Caleb wince from the sound.
The Wizard, on the other hand, cried out. Letting the gun go and covering his ears as he stumbled back. Eyes shut and teeth grit as the sound rung in his ears.
"AH MOTHERFU-ARGH!"
The wizard had made a fatal error. Sure, he was immune to the bullets deadly kiss and had the reflexes needed to dodge a shot. But he had forgotten though just how LOUD a gun was, especially one of such a high calibur. A gun that had been right up at his ear.
The pain left an opening that Caleb was quick to exploit, football tackling the wizard down to the ground. | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | Raven sobbed as she tried to get up, a sharp pain from her knee stopping her. "Please," she said, "Don't drink my blood."
Tyler stopped in from of her, "Oh. I didn't think humans still believed that. It's was a myth we created hundreds of years ago to cover up our true nature," he said.
"Wha- what?"
"You see, vampires do drink blood but not from humans. We can't. Humans hurt us. You're like the sun. You weaken our powers. But vampires sometimes can't help but get attached to humans, thus why we created the myth."
"I don't get it..."
Tyler sighed, "That myth was created so humans would stay away from us. So we wouldn't be able to feel things for you and lose our powers," he paused.
"But you've been my friend for almost three years," Raven whispered shakily.
"Raven, I fell I love with you. And it's slowly killing me," he whispered, "You were never supposed to find out about me."
Raven's breath slowed down, her heart still beating fast but not because of fear.
/'What am I supposed to do?'/ | "We tell the hard truths you need to hear. She isn't coming back Laura."
The woman's eyes met this tall, strange man's eyes and she knew. Tears started began forming at the corners of her eyes. Slowly she began to speak.
"You're lying." She barely squeaked. "If, if, if I just change and be the person she wants she'll come back."
"No, she won't. And you know that."
"But..."
"She isn't. And she never will. That part of your life is over now it's time to move on."
Laura began to open her mouth to protest but she couldn't. She slowly sunk down grabbing her knees tightly and began to sob. The man began to leave a somber look on his pale face.
"Wait." Laura spoke just loud enough to be heard. "Is it my fault?" She looked toward the man. He stopped and turned to her.
"We tell you the truths you need to hear. Not the ones you already know." | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. |
No human was supposed to move out of the house after sunset in Transylvania Town lest they disappear forever, yet this tourist wanted to explore at night.
Now, she was screaming at the top of her lungs till there was no air left inside her. Help was not coming. She was the chosen prey of the ravenous vampire that had been haunting the town for centuries. It would run till it had sunk its teeth into your skin. Hundreds of reckless people, from knights to modern day soldiers and vloggers had been consumed.
The woman ran through the town screaming to the onlookers inside the houses. “If only she had listened”, they said to themselves.
Being a tourist, she had no idea how the streets turned and joined. After making several wrong turns, she had reached a dead end.
Sobbing and crying, she saw the creeping shadow of the predator grow larger. Pushing her head between her knees, she begged the vampire to leave her.
“Please, please don’t drink my blood!”, she cried.
The vampire suddenly stopped. Did her plea work?
Throwing open his cloak, he engulfed the street with the pure darkness of midnight. She saw the vampire laugh and cackle horrendously. An army of bats swirled above her mocking her fate with a shrill chuckle.
“You humans remain ever so pathetic!”, the vampire guffawed, “Always crying about blood, blood, blood!
“Your puny brains cannot comprehend the intelligence of my kind. You see, drinking your blood is a rumour we created. What I want is different.”
“W-What do you want then? Money? I can give you lots if you let me go!”
He laughed even louder, and the bats screeched enough to deafen every living being around.
“What I need is neither money nor blood. I want you”
The woman grew pale. “So you’re all just psychotic killers then!”
“What? No, no! We aren’t so disgusting”, the vampire sighed, “I want to make you one of our kind.”
“Wait….what do you mean? Why are you doing this?”
With a wide, crooked grin, he replied, “Unlike humans, we vampires have not forgotten proper etiquette. I will tell you. You see, it is a most magnificent system.
“Centuries before your birth, a wise old vampire by the name of Bogdi created a remarkable system of wealth-making. For every vampire we create, we get 50 gold coins. Bogdi's accomplice told me to bring him 10 new bats. And the vampires of my bite will convert more humans and pay me up later! Genius, isn’t it!”
All the fear the woman had felt till now turned to utter confusion. Still, she waited to hear more.
“Of course, you have to treat me as your Bogdi and bring back 10 new vampires. Don’t forget, you must pay 20 coins to me, your new master!”
“Dude, are you dumb?”, the woman shouted at the jolly vampire laughing in front of her.
Angered, he screamed: “Silence mortal, prepare for your fate!”
“I thought you vampires had no heart, it seems like it was brains all along. You’ve been scammed you fool!
“You got caught in a pyramid scheme. Bogdi takes up all the money, while you sit there penniless! Your new bats will have nothing to pay you!”
“Pyramids? Bah, Bogdi never liked Egyptians! You know nothing, human!”
“You really need some financial sense! You don’t even have money to buy anything, do you? Your “holey” cloak says it all to me!”
Something in the woman’s words warmed the frozen heart of the vampire. An arrow laden with venom and topped with garlic had struck his ego hard.
“Bogdi can’t be wrong! I-I don’t believe you!”, he screamed.
“Of course, he was! You’ll never see any money out of this. He’s been scamming you all for...for how long now?”
Without a reply, the vampire covered himself in a torrent of bats and disappeared. | "We tell the hard truths you need to hear. She isn't coming back Laura."
The woman's eyes met this tall, strange man's eyes and she knew. Tears started began forming at the corners of her eyes. Slowly she began to speak.
"You're lying." She barely squeaked. "If, if, if I just change and be the person she wants she'll come back."
"No, she won't. And you know that."
"But..."
"She isn't. And she never will. That part of your life is over now it's time to move on."
Laura began to open her mouth to protest but she couldn't. She slowly sunk down grabbing her knees tightly and began to sob. The man began to leave a somber look on his pale face.
"Wait." Laura spoke just loud enough to be heard. "Is it my fault?" She looked toward the man. He stopped and turned to her.
"We tell you the truths you need to hear. Not the ones you already know." | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | "Well, what do you do?" She asked, as she questioned everything she knew about Vampires. "We actually give blood". This shocked her even more. "Why would you give blood?" The vampire gave a nervous grin. "Our blood actually has natural healing capabilities." He took a step back, and stood straight. "We can also detect illness in others."
The woman was starting to calm down. She relaxed a little. "So you heal people? Well why start the rumours that you drink blood?" He chuckled a little. "A few thousand years ago, there was a village that was suffering from a plague. We would secretly heal people, but they would get reinfected." The woman saw a bench, and motioned for him to sit with her. Taking the offered seat, he continued. "So they told the people who they were, so they could heal them all at once. It worked for the most part. Those that still died, we wrongly assumed were too far gone"
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "What did you get wrong?" She asked with genuine curiosity. "Well, we can't be sure, but we think it was blood types. Even we didn't know about them back then." He sighed. "The problem we had then, was that they wanted to heal them for everything. We were compensated with food and other wares, but it became too much." She gripped his shoulder tighter "they became reliant on you?" Smiling again, he looked at her "yeah. My people needed to get out of there"
He shifted a little, to face her properly. "A few left at first, to find somewhere new to live, but when the elders announced that they were leaving, the villagers tried to stop them." A tear started to roll down his cheek. "So the elders thought fear would compel them to let them go. So they started the myth that we drank their blood. It worked, but a little too well." He started to cry. "They spread the story across Europe. If any of my people were caught, they were killed straight away. We had to go into hiding." He placed his hand on hers. "Although people would be more tolerant of us now, we fear they would still take advantage. So we keep up the myth, and do our work in secret"
She couldn't help but give him a hug. "So what's wrong with me then?" She asked, still hugging him. "Bowel cancer." She shot back in shock. She tried to speak, but couldn't get the words out. "It is too early for you to notice anything, but it's there." She calmed down again, and tilted her head to one side. "Then please heal me. I couldn't afford the medical bills for cancer." He gave a weak smile "gladly". | "We tell the hard truths you need to hear. She isn't coming back Laura."
The woman's eyes met this tall, strange man's eyes and she knew. Tears started began forming at the corners of her eyes. Slowly she began to speak.
"You're lying." She barely squeaked. "If, if, if I just change and be the person she wants she'll come back."
"No, she won't. And you know that."
"But..."
"She isn't. And she never will. That part of your life is over now it's time to move on."
Laura began to open her mouth to protest but she couldn't. She slowly sunk down grabbing her knees tightly and began to sob. The man began to leave a somber look on his pale face.
"Wait." Laura spoke just loud enough to be heard. "Is it my fault?" She looked toward the man. He stopped and turned to her.
"We tell you the truths you need to hear. Not the ones you already know." | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | "Well, what do you do?" She asked, as she questioned everything she knew about Vampires. "We actually give blood". This shocked her even more. "Why would you give blood?" The vampire gave a nervous grin. "Our blood actually has natural healing capabilities." He took a step back, and stood straight. "We can also detect illness in others."
The woman was starting to calm down. She relaxed a little. "So you heal people? Well why start the rumours that you drink blood?" He chuckled a little. "A few thousand years ago, there was a village that was suffering from a plague. We would secretly heal people, but they would get reinfected." The woman saw a bench, and motioned for him to sit with her. Taking the offered seat, he continued. "So they told the people who they were, so they could heal them all at once. It worked for the most part. Those that still died, we wrongly assumed were too far gone"
She placed a hand on his shoulder. "What did you get wrong?" She asked with genuine curiosity. "Well, we can't be sure, but we think it was blood types. Even we didn't know about them back then." He sighed. "The problem we had then, was that they wanted to heal them for everything. We were compensated with food and other wares, but it became too much." She gripped his shoulder tighter "they became reliant on you?" Smiling again, he looked at her "yeah. My people needed to get out of there"
He shifted a little, to face her properly. "A few left at first, to find somewhere new to live, but when the elders announced that they were leaving, the villagers tried to stop them." A tear started to roll down his cheek. "So the elders thought fear would compel them to let them go. So they started the myth that we drank their blood. It worked, but a little too well." He started to cry. "They spread the story across Europe. If any of my people were caught, they were killed straight away. We had to go into hiding." He placed his hand on hers. "Although people would be more tolerant of us now, we fear they would still take advantage. So we keep up the myth, and do our work in secret"
She couldn't help but give him a hug. "So what's wrong with me then?" She asked, still hugging him. "Bowel cancer." She shot back in shock. She tried to speak, but couldn't get the words out. "It is too early for you to notice anything, but it's there." She calmed down again, and tilted her head to one side. "Then please heal me. I couldn't afford the medical bills for cancer." He gave a weak smile "gladly". | Raven sobbed as she tried to get up, a sharp pain from her knee stopping her. "Please," she said, "Don't drink my blood."
Tyler stopped in from of her, "Oh. I didn't think humans still believed that. It's was a myth we created hundreds of years ago to cover up our true nature," he said.
"Wha- what?"
"You see, vampires do drink blood but not from humans. We can't. Humans hurt us. You're like the sun. You weaken our powers. But vampires sometimes can't help but get attached to humans, thus why we created the myth."
"I don't get it..."
Tyler sighed, "That myth was created so humans would stay away from us. So we wouldn't be able to feel things for you and lose our powers," he paused.
"But you've been my friend for almost three years," Raven whispered shakily.
"Raven, I fell I love with you. And it's slowly killing me," he whispered, "You were never supposed to find out about me."
Raven's breath slowed down, her heart still beating fast but not because of fear.
/'What am I supposed to do?'/ | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | "S-so you're not going to drink my blood?"
"No," the vampire chuckles. "It doesn't even make that much sense you think about it. Poking two 1 centimeter wide holes in someone's neck? And no one notices? And the holes are supposed to just, what, magically seal up? C'mon."
"I-I guess? But why are you chasing me then? What do you want?!"
"Well... you see, we *do* drink something from humans."
The woman looks at the vampire puzzled, but then her face contorts in even more terror, and much more disgust, than before.
"...Why are you looking at me like that?" the vampire asks. He notices the woman now clutching and pushing down her skirt. "Wait, oh no, no not that! We don't drink *that*. Oh man that would be so gross."
"What then?"
"You see, there's many reasons why we are the way we are - hiding in the shadows, having long fangs, spreading rumors about killing or eating or drinking the blood of humans - it's all for one simple purpose. Fear. We *need* humans to fear us when we reveal ourselves to you."
"So you drink... our fear?"
The vampire sighs.
"No. It's..." he covers his face in slight embarassment. "It's sweat. We drink sweat."
"..."
"..."
"*What?*"
"I know, I know, it's weird, I get it, but it is what it is."
"Can't you just drink from animals?"
"We've tried, but do you know what animals sweat? Dangerous ones, that's what. Horses can easily knock us out with a single kick. Apes and gorillas literally match our strength and can easily tear us apart. Don't even get me *started* on hippos. You guys think *we're* dangerous? Ha! The average human, by comparison, is just so much safer."
A very awkward silence lingers.
"I have some handy wipes if you want to clean yourself after I'm done licking y-"
"Just- just get it over with." | #In a parallel universe far far away
Panting, the woman had started to stumble, her legs heavy like lead and the snow coating the forest floor not making it any easier for her. She had grown weary and couldn't run away any longer, she thought herself foolish to try to retrieve the medicine for her brother, Grimm, at night knowing the risk. The wound he had recieved from the snow scorpion had flared up again and his yells of pain caused by its venom were too much for her to bare. The woman rested her arm on a tree.
"You really did not skip out on leg day, you gave me a good chase, better than most." The vampire's voice came from every direction. Hearing it, one could not pinpoint its location. "Honestly, if you could have kept that pace up for 4 more hours, I must admit I don't think I would be able to catch you."
A figure in a black suit dropped between the two trees ahead of her from seemingly nowhere. He dawned a blood red cape, hair as white as snow. No ... it wasn't just any vampire. No vampire would dare try to mimic the attire of "him".
"Dr- Dr- Dr-" The woman could not seem to free the words from her mouth. "The one and only." Dracula said in a casual tone as he slowly swaggered towards her.
As the vampire drew closer, the woman slowly sunk to the ground and sobbed, "Please, don’t suck my blood!" The vampire stopped and said "Uh uh, that's actually a myth, Dracula don’t suck. Dracula scrape with his fangs and lick up the blood. like this, lelelele. See. Scrape. and lick. Lelelelele."
"Huh?" The woman didn't really know to respond. He no longer seemed as threatening as he did before. Her sob had lessened to a tearful look of confusion. "Scrape. and lick, lelelele. Scrape. and lick, lelelele. The blood sucking thing is a rumor we came up with to seem more threatening to vampire hunters. Understand now?"
The woman gave a slow nod. "Now look, Dracula is starving and was wondering if you could share some food .... real food. Dracula ate some baby scorpions on the way here and they tasted terrible! Dracula can't go in his fridge because Dracula ex-wife locked him out. Dracula could give you something in return."
"A- are you able to suck out scorpion ven-" Dracula cut the woman off, "Ah ah ah, scrape, and lick, lelelele. But the answer is yes, Dracula can get rid of Scorpion venom." The woman wiped her eyes, and the vampire helped her stand up. "I'll show you the way to my house," she said.
Leaning his head to the side, past the woman Dracula could see the giant snow scorpion in the distance searching. "Um, and let's hurry up. Dracula will carry you." And with that, Dracula scooped up the woman and they headed to her home where Grimm lied in painful wait.
[( ᐛ )و](https://youtu.be/ZgZiBS64sC4) | |
[WP] As the vampire drew closer, the woman sobbed, please, don’t drink my blood. The vampire stopped and said, actually that’s a myth, we don’t drink blood. That’s a rumor we started hundreds of years ago to cover for what we really do. | "S-so you're not going to drink my blood?"
"No," the vampire chuckles. "It doesn't even make that much sense you think about it. Poking two 1 centimeter wide holes in someone's neck? And no one notices? And the holes are supposed to just, what, magically seal up? C'mon."
"I-I guess? But why are you chasing me then? What do you want?!"
"Well... you see, we *do* drink something from humans."
The woman looks at the vampire puzzled, but then her face contorts in even more terror, and much more disgust, than before.
"...Why are you looking at me like that?" the vampire asks. He notices the woman now clutching and pushing down her skirt. "Wait, oh no, no not that! We don't drink *that*. Oh man that would be so gross."
"What then?"
"You see, there's many reasons why we are the way we are - hiding in the shadows, having long fangs, spreading rumors about killing or eating or drinking the blood of humans - it's all for one simple purpose. Fear. We *need* humans to fear us when we reveal ourselves to you."
"So you drink... our fear?"
The vampire sighs.
"No. It's..." he covers his face in slight embarassment. "It's sweat. We drink sweat."
"..."
"..."
"*What?*"
"I know, I know, it's weird, I get it, but it is what it is."
"Can't you just drink from animals?"
"We've tried, but do you know what animals sweat? Dangerous ones, that's what. Horses can easily knock us out with a single kick. Apes and gorillas literally match our strength and can easily tear us apart. Don't even get me *started* on hippos. You guys think *we're* dangerous? Ha! The average human, by comparison, is just so much safer."
A very awkward silence lingers.
"I have some handy wipes if you want to clean yourself after I'm done licking y-"
"Just- just get it over with." | I watched the woman running for her life down an alley and as the cliché goes she tripped. She crawled in a desperate attempt to get away tearing her clothes as she went. she looked in front of herself and saw the wall not far in front of herself. looking behind herself realizing she wasn't going to escape, she plead for her life "Please, please don't drink my blood PLEASE". Stopping for a moment the vampire grinned and spoke "Oh you silly goose that's a myth we don't drink blood, that's but a myth, a rumor that we started many many years ago".
The woman looked at him in fear and confusion and asked "Then what do you want from me?". The grin on the vampires face stretched into a smile before he continued "Its not what *I* want, no its what you owe". The confusion on the woman's face grew as her brows furrowed.
"But I've never met a vampire let alone owe one anything" she said in fear to the vampire that was now towering over her. Looking down at her he once again spoke only this time in a soft almost sing song voice "oooohhhh my dear Cindy\~, you don't owe *me* anything no, but you've been a very naughty girl\~" Cindy looking up at him stuttered softly "T-then why are you here"
The vampires eyes couldn't have shone more brightly than in that moment as he said "Why its my job of course and, it is tax season after all" Cindy had froze and was just staring. as I watched all this go down on the camera system that I recently installed out the back of my shop it dawned upon me. Vampires work for the fucking IRS. | |
[WP] As a magical creature, the popularity of "welcome mats," made entering homes a breeze. But now, so many new ones have different messages making it hard to figure out if you can go in or not. Like can you "live, laugh, love (Inside?)" What do you do with "Glad you're here?" | This was as unexpected a situation in my long life I’d never encountered. It seemed that permission to enter the house was conditional. I found myself stymied. The Americans were an odd lot.
Many Fae managed to come from the old world to the new with their respective traditions intact. The ones from Northern Europe, crossing the Atlantic with the Germans and Dutch needed almost no adjustment. Tradition remained and everyone knew their roles. The same with the ones from Southern Europe. Even the African population, despite the manner in which most were brought to the Americas managed to keep much of their core tradition intact. In fact, their blending of African tradition with Catholic across parts of the Caribbean and the Gulf Coast only increased the power and sway of the Fae. And the impact of the Catholic traditions on the Native Fae of Central America? Don’t even get me started. Those Fae are a wild and strong breed. My Queen and her Court have been in careful negotiation with the Courts of Central America for almost 300 years.
The real issue was what the Americans became. All the blending and swirling of tradition and race and nationalities resulted in something we Fae could barely understand. We were a people of solidity, of performance, of knowing the roles expected for eons. Watching the New World was akin to watching mercury skittering across a hot pan.
That, however, did not solve the problem before me. I was a Noble, of course. A minor lordling, to be sure, but still a member of the Court, with all the Rights and Responsibilities that entailed. My obligation was clear. If I wanted to enter, it appeared that I must gain specific instruction and a Writ from the Queen herself.
I’d need to catch the Queen in one of her better moods. Depending on her fancy, this might entertain her, or throw her into a storm fury. If she were in a generous mood, I might even be invited to ride with the Great Hunt. If her mood were black, I might be required to participate in the Hunt in another role. A one-time only appearance. I steeled myself and shifted the veil.
As the light returned, I found myself standing in the entry arch of the Court. The Court itself moved as the Queen’s whims shifted. This evening, the arch stood at the edge of a forested glade. Great trees, like none ever seen by Humans, towered into the sky. Faint lights shifted and glided through the branches. Before me I could see the Great Court itself. As the energy and power of the Queen’s Aura flowed around me, I could feel the relaxed and casual attitudes of the human world melt away, and the formal attitude of the Court replace it.
An assembly of Fae was before me. Towering ogres and trolls moved through, strangely elegant here, for the Queen wished it so, tall horned huntsmen stood motionless as small clusters of elves moved around them. Occasionally, one would pause to address the huntsmen, and I could see the horned helm dipping gracefully down to the smaller figure to respond. And finally, at the far side of the clearing, the Throne of Seasons, raised on a dais. And on that throne, Titania, eternal Queen of Fae.
Part of me relaxed. Even at this distance, I could see raiment and face of the Queen. Today she wore a light summer gown, colored in the many greens of Spring. White, gold and red sparks danced around her, like flowers floating in the wind. Her face showed an open smile, as she quietly laughed at some jest from one of her Nobles.
A chill crawled up my back and before I could turn, a hissing, frigid voice whispered in my ear. “Why are you here, Merilis? This is not your assigned place at this time.”
“Tobik.” I said, desperately trying to keep my terror in check.
The creature standing entirely too close behind me was, to outward appearances, a young and fair human woman, slim and fit. Like most of her kin, the Huldra wore flowing robes that resembled water in sheen and ripple. The only concern one might have was the faint blue-green sheen on her skin. I looked around and saw various great trolls, night hags, and wights. None of them near as dangerous as the slight female form at my back.
“I ask again, Merilis,” she said, and I could feel her faint breath on my neck. I suppressed a physical reaction as all the skin on the back of my head and down my spine tried to crawl away. “I ask again and should I ask a third, your flesh may be forfeit. Why are you not in your place?”
“I seek the guidance of the Court, fair Tobik,” I said, facing the Huldra. “I have been challenged by the humans in a manner unprecedented. I seek guidance of law.”
A sneer crossed her face. “You allow the prey to check you with the law? Are you so inept?”
“They check me by law because it is the only manner in which they can, Tobik. You know this. This is the law as old as the realm and to do otherwise would dishonor Titania the Queen, which I will not do.”
Tobik’s eyes widened and she suddenly dropped to a knee, head bowed and hair falling before her face.A clear voice behind me said, “Merilis, eighth child of Gerina, who is third child of Funil, who is Viscount of Lesser Monon. You have spoken my name and I am here. What do you ask of your Queen?”
I jerked around to face the speaker and every muscle and bone of my body froze. Titania, Queen of Fae sat before me. Her throne, and her Nobles arrayed behind her, suddenly here, instead of where they had been a heartbeat before. She watched me as a cat might watch a bird that has damaged a wing. Terror filled me as I bowed low. “My Queen,” I stammered. “I apologize for disturbi—”
She raised a hand and the words stopped. I do not know if I stopped speaking or if, though her arts, she stopped me. Either way, my tongue and throat froze.
“You seek guidance on the Law. My Law. The Law that I created and forged to bring this realm into existance, the Law that provided the foundation of our power and magic. The Law that preserves the balance that must be maintained.”
I swallowed and nodded jerkily.
An icy smile stretched across the inhuman beauty of her face as she leaned back into her throne. “Then you could come to no better place, little elfling, for surely there is no one better able to respond to your –” she hesitated just enough for me to notice it, “somewhat rash actions this evening. Pose your question, little one, and I will surely,” again, that tiny hesitation, “dispose of the problem.” Behind her rose the horned and shadowed shape of the Erlking, current Master of the Great Hunt. My throat constricted and I found I could barely breathe, let alone speak.
Forcing myself to take a breath, I spoke. My voice came out as a strangled croak I barely recognized as my own. “My Queen,” I gasped, swallowed and tried again. “My Queen. I am assigned to go to the human lands and seek to bargain with those who live there. To provide them that which they ask for if not what they want. To provide the bargain that might help them but will always provide value to the Fae. But when I am in the human lands, I am subject to the laws and more importantly, the traditions of Hospitality. I was stopped by a written requirement of the home, a directive that placed requirements on me before I could even speak to those who resided there. Now I come here to try to fulfill the requirements of the directive.”
I could see several slight nods from the Nobles standing behind the Queen as she considered my words. “This seems to be the same tasking that has been before those who go to the human lands for a millennia,” she replied, “and yet, you are the first in 700 years that has needed additional guidance.”
I was clearly not out of danger, and I could see the pale face of Lord Funil, my grandsire. He was clearly trying to calculate how much my own ineptitude might damage his own position.“My Queen. I have studied those who have gone before. I know of none that have encountered this specific warding directive.”
“And what was the directive. Be specific, little elfling, as if your very life depended on it.”
I swallowed again. “My Queen. Before the door of entry was a mat and inscribed thereon, the directive to which I must comply before I can seek entry. It stated, *Come Back With A Warrant*.” | As a garden gnome, I and my kin have been protecting and enjoying living with the families who share our land for centuries. Leaving them presents and even playing a few little pranks on them, well little for us at the very least. And as the "welcome mat" increased in popularity our magic was able to be able to easily get in without having to use our magic to sneak in other, more awkward ways, but these niche "comedy" mats almost made me wish for the days we had to find a small crack to sneak into a house.
Around midnight I heard my kin across the street calling me "Hey Ban come over here, you got to see this one."
I sigh and walked over to Zooks house and looked at the welcome mat. It was like one of the mortal children "Do you like me? Check yes or no papers we often stole." It read "Do you live here? (Pick One) Yes Welcome home.." and "... No What the hell do you want."
As I look puzzled at the mat Zook continued in confusion and frustration.
"I mean technically I do since we lived on this land way before them but with mortal zoning laws and property ideals, it's hard to say. And do we actually check one? Like, do we check yes and the magic allows us to go in?"
Zook asks in a frustrated tone that I was all too familiar with as we gnomes have gotten increasingly frustrated with mortal's attempt at humor and individuality with these types of things.
"Just use the magic to check the yes box and you can go on in. I got one that says 'Can't believe you came.' What am I supposed to do with that?"
I ask Zook before he magically checks the yes box and is allowed entry into his house. I then frustratedly walk back to my house. I will probably have to locate one of those old ways inside the house to leave a present for the family, man this will be a long night.
------
Thought I'd try my hands at one of these any criticism and feedback is welcome. | |
[WP] As a magical creature, the popularity of "welcome mats," made entering homes a breeze. But now, so many new ones have different messages making it hard to figure out if you can go in or not. Like can you "live, laugh, love (Inside?)" What do you do with "Glad you're here?" | Vampirism is becoming a task.
When I was born, 1803 I believe, though I'm not too determined the month, I was ever forlorn at the trouble it was to be welcomed to enter a home.
"Come on in!" were the words, that I longed so to hear, but so rarely I heard them I starved. So when I finally did, I would gorge myself full, though the blood never did seem to last.
But in around 1910, my true joy did begin, for at the door, behold, my good friend. "Come on in!" said the mat. "Come on in!" Fancy that. What a joy to behold those three words. So I stepped in and ate, and for my good hosts kind sakes, I left pleant of blood in their veins.
And the trend - my, it grew! Sometimes "Welcome!" sometimes "We're happy to have you!" Whatever the mat, I would glad tip my hat, and for the sake of my hosts, leave them fine.
But tonight, I admit, I think, I might quit. The third mat which confused me is this: "Nice underwear."
What? How could you tell? Is it nice? Does it matter? Is the mat under a spell? Would it change if I were NOT wearing my best britches? And this one - it's just wrong! They're not "Walking life's beaches". You're at home! I can see you! Just open the door.
I'm hungry, and cold, and your decors already an eye-sore.
Look, if you don't open up, and let me come on inside, I'll be forced to pack up, go home and cry. I can't wander down, to number 69. That old hag tastes like dirty shoes and... what's this one say?
"You're welcome - if you bring wine"
One moment. I'll be back. Now don't move an inch. I've a cask of Amantiardo, I keep for a pinch! I'll give you a bottle, when you wake up and see. And if you taste good, you'll get regular bottles. I'll get custom flavours - for free!
He-he. | He had done it! Finally! He'd made it inside. He needn't think of how long it had been, the tearing pain in his stomach reminded him plenty.
He crept closer to the bed, the familiar thumping in his ears, and the intoxicating rushing of blood. Her blood.
She lay in the bed, one hand cradling her head, and her delicate neck exposed, inviting him closer, and closer he came. He was ready, starving, he must feed soon.
His fangs glistened with saliva as he leaned over her body... but wait, what was that, at the back of his mind? He'd forgotten something, something important, but what was it?
Wait! He remembered! Dread crept into his veins as he recalled the mat at the front entrance. The mat that did not read "Welcome", as he initially suspected, it wasn't even "Come in".
It was naught but an uninviting "Home sweet home"... | |
A slightly edited writing prompt I found on another website | [WP] One day, every person simultaneously gets a super power based on their job. Psychologists game telepathy, firefighters can manipulate water or fire, construction workers can mix and mold rock. But your job, gains you a rather… Interesting ability | People around me were getting super powers. Like everyone was getting them. It was weird. But what was weirder was that the powers appeared to be based on their jobs. Some cops became bullet proof, others got stretchy arms to catch criminals, but most cops got powers that showed who they truly were. Which is where all the super villains came from, they are all former cops and judges. No one was surprised. That was 4 years ago. I never got a power.
I was unemployed at the time everyone got powers. Just like 30% of the United States. After republicans took control of the government 5 years ago, anyone they didn't like lost their jobs, their benefits, and then their rights. I've been living in a secret community of powerless people since the awakening. I had been a librarian before that, now I'm a farmer, a teacher, a nurse, and a city engineer. I work the field every day, I teach the kids at night, and I plan all the new locations with the help of the council. We've carved out a good life for ourselves. Mostly. We have to avoid roaming bands of police when we go raid Republican cities.
Tomorrow we target trumpville. It's a few hours away, so we have to leave early, we can't target places near us for fear of being found out.
Jane reminds us that if we get caught, it'll be 6 months of being force converted through watching FoxDeSantis videos and having to listen to emperor Elon babble on about how he's a genius. All of us have our death pills ready. So we don't have to go through that horror.
We left and made it to the outskirts of dumpville without issue. The red painted golf carts and gold painted toilets mark the boundaries. As we start to sneak in and prepare our assault, we hear the noise we dread most. Police sirens. We look and we're surrounded. They knew we were coming but how.
Jane runs out to fight the first cop and gets burned alive. I've never seen or smelled anything like it. The others are scared, I'm scared, I get ready to take my no more me pill. But I can't move, I feel an energy coursing through me, reaching out to Jane. I'm confused, she's dead or I think she is. But then I notice the energy is green, Jane is healing and the smell is going away.
A new energy is filling me more, it feels metallic. I don't know how else to describe it. There was a rumble in the ground. The sewer pipes started bursting through the ground. | Ck felt a tingle, like a fingernail down his spine. Someone had crossed the boarder of the property. He grabbed his phone, flashlight, and firearm. Of course they'd come tonight. Damn drunk rednecks.
He hated living in bumfucked Egypt, deep in the woods. Hell, nearest damn walmart was 2 hours away. So of course , when wives kicked their drunken husbands out of the house, they'd find trouble. And what cheaper trouble to get into, than breaking into an abandoned warehouse complex, so a little vandalism, maybe find something to sell, and leave without so much as a slap on the wrist.
Unfortunately for them, CK was the security guard on duty. And he had used his gift well to excell at it.
He left his office and narrowly stepped over the loose catwalk that would clang and echo throughout the huge metal building. No need to spooky the rats yet, not when there's fun to be had. The cctv was on, but only covered so much, so he slide his phone in his breast pocket, camera side out, to record this particular patrol. The flashlight was just expected, though he didn't need it. Intellectus was one hell of a gift. Knowing when and where every little thing was, was just the icing on the cake, but damn it was great icing. He walked without conscious thought and never made a sound, as he made his way to the west corner of the warehouse. Three of them, it seemed, one mouth and drunken rage, the other two just following along like scavengers, picking at the leavings of the leader.
Once CK made it to the edge of where they were, he was just out of sight, he listened in to the ravings of mr. Mouth. He would be CK's main target. "Fuckin' bullshit, bitch kicked m'out o'my own house, said i's wakin da kids" Mouth ranted.
"Told you not ta marry her joe, she was only doin it cause shes pregers" lacky one in the red flannel slurred. The second lacky in green flannel laughed then hiccuped.
"Hey, Lila's my cousin! " lacky two finally realized wrong his nose on his sleeve. After an awkward pause they all burst out laughing.
"Shsssh, shhh, we don't want no rentacop hearing us." Mouth/joe said.
Yup, stereotypical, CK thought, there was a pipe by his left foot, with a bump of his toe, he nudged it silently forward, and willed it to go until it was just behind red lacky. Green lacky was going to take care of himself, if he kept leaning on that old shelf. So, now was the time for CK to start another trick of his. Casting emotion, a warding exercise of intellectus. He started with just a touch of unease, but within a few minutes, worked it up to a foreboding. Red started looking around erratically. Green started sweating. Joe, didn't notice, a stronger, more irrational emotion had him locked in. He needed to be distracted from his drunken rage. With a twitch of CK'S finger, the chains overhead began to creak and clatter. They all three looked up.
"Di-did you hear that? " green asked.
"Just the wind, old place like this is awfully drafty"
"They say this place is haunted. " red interjected.
"Bullshit," joe snapped, but ck could feel doubt creeping in.
Red, backed up a step, perfectly stepping on the pipe and performed his Goofy impression. He fell less than 10 feet from ck but thanks to Intellectus he knew the shadows covered him perfectly.
"Damn, my back, where did that come from? " he kicked the pipe, but with another finger twitch, Ck used the momentum to knock it back near joe.
With a creak, green put more weight on the old shelves beside him, ck clinched his fist and one of the shelves on top came loss and, without guidance from Ck, narrowly missed green, but shocked him enough he took off from his buddies without a word.
Typical, ck thought, always one that either pissed himself, or runs away without real effort. Well, one down atleast.
Joe picked up an old sledge hammer, the thing was so old, it's handle was basically compressed sawdust. "Who's out there, show yourself!?"
Que CK.
In his best Lurch voice he drawled "you rang? "
Both men jumped at the sudden realization that CK was so close. His flashlight was on and on them within a blink. To CK's surprise, red now took off, it the way they came in. A mental check found green was already off the property.
Joe, of course, the more intoxicated one, full of alcoholic inebriation, slighted spousal syndrome, and just simple backwoods meanness, decided to fight rather than fight. He brandished his newfound hammer.
"Dirty fucking pervert, how long you been standing there watching us?"
CK lied to unnerve this walking rage monkey. "You actually walked right past me, you're just too sloshed to notice. "
"Well im gonna knock your freaking teeth down your...." ck tuned out the onslaught of profanity and sexual slurs. The pipe was just a step in front of ol' joe the sailor. All Ck had to do was just him a step closer.
"Oh, now joe, just cause your wife cuckold you for your booze breathe, doesn't mean you can proposition me. I've had better offers from the crackwhore in town. "
Yup. That did it, it's all fine and dandy for men like him to toss out slurs as insults, but toss them back and accuse them of being less than straight and all hell breaks loose.
"You son of a..." joe, stepped on the pipe. He rolled forward, then back, and fell face first into the concrete floor. The hammer landed a breath away from his head. As soon as it landed, the handle practically burst into dust and splinters. Joe.... was out cold.
An hour later. Cops called, and ol' joe taken to the drunk tank for the night, ck was at the new hole cut on the fencing, and with new wire and snips, he'd repaired and with intellectus, warded the new softspot in his defense. Now anyone coming to that spot will feel such fear, they'll take off running with urine down there leg.
Sure, it wasn't a showy or flashy gift, but damn was it useful. |
A slightly edited writing prompt I found on another website | [WP] One day, every person simultaneously gets a super power based on their job. Psychologists game telepathy, firefighters can manipulate water or fire, construction workers can mix and mold rock. But your job, gains you a rather… Interesting ability | Everyone around me was getting powers, it was honestly the coolest, and at the same time most terrifying events to ever happen in my life. My wife Sherrie who was working as a doctor gained the ability to heal others.
My son John was working in the army repairing tanks and other heavy machinery, he gained an amazing power to control said machinery with his mind. Being able to build a fully functional giant robot.
Now I know what you must be thinking * Ted, what about your power?* well sorry to say I don't have a power yet or at least I haven't figured it out yet.
You see my job is the kind of job that gets overlooked all the time. I work at a state college, and yeah wouldn't it be so cool to say I'm a professor of physics and I can affect the laws of motion. I'm not and I can't, however Professor Pike can, and it's awesome to see in action.
No sadly I'm just your friendly neighborhood sanitation engineer/janitor. All I do is clean up after students, and instructors all freaking day. Yep a never ending shit show every waking moment of my life, quite literally if I'm on bathroom route.
About a week after the great awakening I finally used my power for the first time, and honestly it's a pretty good one. I was at work like all the others when my Team lead walked up to me.... | Ck felt a tingle, like a fingernail down his spine. Someone had crossed the boarder of the property. He grabbed his phone, flashlight, and firearm. Of course they'd come tonight. Damn drunk rednecks.
He hated living in bumfucked Egypt, deep in the woods. Hell, nearest damn walmart was 2 hours away. So of course , when wives kicked their drunken husbands out of the house, they'd find trouble. And what cheaper trouble to get into, than breaking into an abandoned warehouse complex, so a little vandalism, maybe find something to sell, and leave without so much as a slap on the wrist.
Unfortunately for them, CK was the security guard on duty. And he had used his gift well to excell at it.
He left his office and narrowly stepped over the loose catwalk that would clang and echo throughout the huge metal building. No need to spooky the rats yet, not when there's fun to be had. The cctv was on, but only covered so much, so he slide his phone in his breast pocket, camera side out, to record this particular patrol. The flashlight was just expected, though he didn't need it. Intellectus was one hell of a gift. Knowing when and where every little thing was, was just the icing on the cake, but damn it was great icing. He walked without conscious thought and never made a sound, as he made his way to the west corner of the warehouse. Three of them, it seemed, one mouth and drunken rage, the other two just following along like scavengers, picking at the leavings of the leader.
Once CK made it to the edge of where they were, he was just out of sight, he listened in to the ravings of mr. Mouth. He would be CK's main target. "Fuckin' bullshit, bitch kicked m'out o'my own house, said i's wakin da kids" Mouth ranted.
"Told you not ta marry her joe, she was only doin it cause shes pregers" lacky one in the red flannel slurred. The second lacky in green flannel laughed then hiccuped.
"Hey, Lila's my cousin! " lacky two finally realized wrong his nose on his sleeve. After an awkward pause they all burst out laughing.
"Shsssh, shhh, we don't want no rentacop hearing us." Mouth/joe said.
Yup, stereotypical, CK thought, there was a pipe by his left foot, with a bump of his toe, he nudged it silently forward, and willed it to go until it was just behind red lacky. Green lacky was going to take care of himself, if he kept leaning on that old shelf. So, now was the time for CK to start another trick of his. Casting emotion, a warding exercise of intellectus. He started with just a touch of unease, but within a few minutes, worked it up to a foreboding. Red started looking around erratically. Green started sweating. Joe, didn't notice, a stronger, more irrational emotion had him locked in. He needed to be distracted from his drunken rage. With a twitch of CK'S finger, the chains overhead began to creak and clatter. They all three looked up.
"Di-did you hear that? " green asked.
"Just the wind, old place like this is awfully drafty"
"They say this place is haunted. " red interjected.
"Bullshit," joe snapped, but ck could feel doubt creeping in.
Red, backed up a step, perfectly stepping on the pipe and performed his Goofy impression. He fell less than 10 feet from ck but thanks to Intellectus he knew the shadows covered him perfectly.
"Damn, my back, where did that come from? " he kicked the pipe, but with another finger twitch, Ck used the momentum to knock it back near joe.
With a creak, green put more weight on the old shelves beside him, ck clinched his fist and one of the shelves on top came loss and, without guidance from Ck, narrowly missed green, but shocked him enough he took off from his buddies without a word.
Typical, ck thought, always one that either pissed himself, or runs away without real effort. Well, one down atleast.
Joe picked up an old sledge hammer, the thing was so old, it's handle was basically compressed sawdust. "Who's out there, show yourself!?"
Que CK.
In his best Lurch voice he drawled "you rang? "
Both men jumped at the sudden realization that CK was so close. His flashlight was on and on them within a blink. To CK's surprise, red now took off, it the way they came in. A mental check found green was already off the property.
Joe, of course, the more intoxicated one, full of alcoholic inebriation, slighted spousal syndrome, and just simple backwoods meanness, decided to fight rather than fight. He brandished his newfound hammer.
"Dirty fucking pervert, how long you been standing there watching us?"
CK lied to unnerve this walking rage monkey. "You actually walked right past me, you're just too sloshed to notice. "
"Well im gonna knock your freaking teeth down your...." ck tuned out the onslaught of profanity and sexual slurs. The pipe was just a step in front of ol' joe the sailor. All Ck had to do was just him a step closer.
"Oh, now joe, just cause your wife cuckold you for your booze breathe, doesn't mean you can proposition me. I've had better offers from the crackwhore in town. "
Yup. That did it, it's all fine and dandy for men like him to toss out slurs as insults, but toss them back and accuse them of being less than straight and all hell breaks loose.
"You son of a..." joe, stepped on the pipe. He rolled forward, then back, and fell face first into the concrete floor. The hammer landed a breath away from his head. As soon as it landed, the handle practically burst into dust and splinters. Joe.... was out cold.
An hour later. Cops called, and ol' joe taken to the drunk tank for the night, ck was at the new hole cut on the fencing, and with new wire and snips, he'd repaired and with intellectus, warded the new softspot in his defense. Now anyone coming to that spot will feel such fear, they'll take off running with urine down there leg.
Sure, it wasn't a showy or flashy gift, but damn was it useful. |
A slightly edited writing prompt I found on another website | [WP] One day, every person simultaneously gets a super power based on their job. Psychologists game telepathy, firefighters can manipulate water or fire, construction workers can mix and mold rock. But your job, gains you a rather… Interesting ability | "Let me get this straight: you're...a camgirl."
I shrugged. "Yep."
Roll Call put her head in her hands. "We appear to have lowered our standards." Delivery Boy zipped over to where she was sitting, flicked her in the back of the head, and zipped right back to his seat. As Roll Call glared at him, DB replied, "You're one to talk. You just control wireless signals, and it took you like a year before you could prove the effectiveness of that."
"Thank you, Delivery Boy," Backdraft interjected before turning back to me. "Now, miss..."
"Smitten."
"Smitten, thank you. What I believe Roll Call was trying to say is that you're a bit... unorthodox compared to the rest of us. Not bad by any stretch of the imagination, just different."
I popped a stick of gum in my mouth as I fired back, "Hey, I'm blue collar, man. It's just that my line of work involves occasionally wearing an actual blue collar." Maxspresso and Wild Heart giggled at my joke.
Roll Call sighed and said, "You're right. I should at least give the girl a chance. So, Smitten, what can you--"
*BOOM!*
The wall to the Union's HQ was blown to bits. Hardhat telekinetically moved the debris away from the rest of us as the rest of the Union readied up for a fight. Through the smoking hole, a small army of people in SWAT gear marched in. The guy in the lead yelled out, "Listen up you spandex-wearing liberal soyboys! The people don't need your pansy-ass ideas of justice and protection anymore! We've come to take our rightful place as the *real* heroes of America! For we are the Law!"
The army echoed their leaders cry with an echoing, "WE ARE THE LAW!" I smirked, whispered, "Watch this," in Backdraft's ear, and casually walked up to the gaggle of John McClane wannabes. A couple of them whistled when they saw me, but the guy in charge pointed his gun at me and growled, "You better back up there, sugar tits. I ain't playing around."
I slowly pulled down the zipper on the bodysuit I was wearing as I calmly purred, "Oh, honey, that's what makes you so disappointing." The leader couldn't stop himself from staring as my zipper traveled down my body. Two of the soldiers up in the front fist bumped and said, "Goddamn, we picked the right day to kill these assholes!"
A feeling like lightning built up in my veins as I responded, "You have no idea." I clapped my hands together with the power I accumulated, generating a booming shockwave that sent the Law flying out of the hole in the wall and down to the shore of Union Island. I spun around to face the others with a cheeky, "Ta-da!" Couture swung up next to me on a length of ribbon and yelled, "That was awesome! How did you do that?!"
I grinned as I flexed my arm. "The more people look at me or give me their attention, the more power I get. Same principle as my streams, really. And as a bonus, I can even claim certain aspects as extra payments--energy, memories, even other superpowers sometimes."
Roll Call whistled. "Okay, yeah, you're definitely in."
I bowed and replied, "Thank you, Roll Call. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to wipe their memories so this is a one-time thing." | I was just writing a story, but when I stopped and thought about what the character should’ve said next, it seemed to pop into my mind almost instantly.
I was confused because this never happened this quickly, it usually took from a few months to about a year to find something for a character to say.
I started writing again and a stream of ideas poured from my mind into my hand, I felt unstoppable until he knocked on the door.
“Hun, I think something happened to me. I feel… like I can make any style of song possible…”
I stood up, walked over and opened the door.
“You know, I felt like I could write nonstop.”
“Let’s look outside.”
We walked to the window and saw firefighters controlling the tide of fire, ambulances members were going super speed.
“What…” I whispered.
He looked to me.
“Let’s try out ours.”
I walk back to my writing desk and turn the page, starting to write a new story, all my ideas flew out onto the page.
He took the sheet of paper and started composing a soft, yet rock heavy song based around the story.
In only two hours, we had made an album’s worth of music.
This was revolutionary. |
[WP] Every Christmas the US Navy sends a message to the 52 Missing submarines from WWII in a sign of respect. The Christmas of 2023 has them terrified, because when they sent the message this year... they all responded. | While all of them answered, there was only 1 answer. All of them gave us the same message.
>Abandon the Earth. They are waking.
"What the hell does that mean?"
As if I knew.
"Ehh... shouldn't we report this to someone?"
As if I knew.
"Sir?"
I opened my mouth, but the screen blinked to life for the 2nd time in its life.
​
>Bullhead SS-332 will evacuate. Least infected. Still hope for them.
The screen died once again.
"Bullhead... which one is that?"
That, I knew. It was the last submarine lost during World War 2. Lost in the 6th of August 1945.
"Infected? What kind of infection could they get under the sea?"
As if I knew.
"Are we meeting them, sir?"
"We are."
4 days later, we detected an unknown object underneath the waves along the coast. We expected to see the submarine. Not a husk of metal and flesh.
When the hatch popped open, we expected to see old men. They were not. They were neither old, nor men. White scales grew on their skins, eyes bulging out of their sockets like balloons about to pop. Their fingers had turned to a mass of tentacles with a black gaping maw for a hand, teeth included.
There was only one human feature underneath its monstrous appearance. The ever recognizable military dog tag hanging on its neck, the chains half fused with the scales.
"We need to run!" it gargled. "There's not much time left until-"
It was drowned by an incoming hail of gunfire. Deep inside of me, I wanted to scream the order to hold fire, wanted to know what lied underneath the sea. But I could not. Fear took hold of my pistol, and it made me pull the trigger along side them. | "Submarine Fleet Seven, mustered and ready to receive orders."
The commo tech stared at his hands for a moment before putting the phone shaped mic back to his head.
"Say again? Reading you one by five."
"I say again, Submarine Fleet Seven, mustered and ready to receive orders."
This time the response was heard from the speaker, which the tech had just activated.
"Uh, standby Sub Fleet Seven."
"Roger that, Sub Fleet Seven standing by."
The tech shakily put down the handmic and sprinted out of the office, past his sergeant and down the hallway to the Joint Chiefs of Staff conference room. And burst through the door, causing the highest ranking members of the US military to stare at him.
"They responded! They fucking responded!"
"Slow down son, who responded?"
"The lost subs, sir. I sent out the message as we do every year, and they responded as Sub Fleet Seven."
"Show me, corporal."
Back at the radio, the fleet admiral spoke into the handmic
"Fleet Admiral Stevenson to Sub Fleet Seven, who is in command of your element?"
"I am sir, Captain Zachary Delning. We heard there was a dustup starting, and a new war means we are needed once more. We are fully stocked and ready for war, sir. Just tell us where you need us, and we'll be there!"
"Captain, I hope you understand my reluctance here, but you've been missing for almost eighty years."
"That's the thing, sir. For us it's only been a few days. We were floating in nothingness for what seemed like forever, but also only an instant if that makes any sense, before suddenly recieving messages about a war in ukraine and Uncle Sam support for Ukraine. I thought Ukraine was a part of the Soviet Union, but apparently not any more. Just what have we missed?"
"You've missed quite a lot, Captain. Report to Newport News, lets get you and your boys processed and see who's willing to stay in the fleet, you all have quite a bit of back-pay coming your way."
"Roger that sir.
Two weeks later a fleet of some fifty Subs surfaced outside Newport News, the ww2 vessels still going strong. The crews came ashore and were found to be in full health. To a man they re-enlisted or renewed commissions, and set back out in their vessels to haunt the tortured nightmares of Russian, and later on, Chinese sailors. The Ghost Fleet was feared for a full century after, the subs being replaced with newer models as they fell apart or were sunk, each new vessel being named after the one it replaced. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | The God and the Farmhand:
Words... That's all they were. That's all they could be... Right?
How wrong I was, was up there on the galactic scale.
Four months ago I woke up in an orchard. Not a normal orchard, no no, two-hundred foot tall trees stood around me when I arrived. A farmhand with a strange device that appeared like a personal set of wings on his back was hovering above me, seemingly tapping the tree, a large mallet and equally large spout in front of him. He glanced down and nearly fell out of the air. He looked at me very confused, before giving the spout a final almighty strike from the mallet. He descended slowly, and I got a good look at the device on his back as he did. I still had not said a word.
He touched down in front of me, asking me something that sounded vaguely German. He was about 5'4" with tanned gray skin and deep blue hair.
"Uh..." I said, confused.
Before I could finish, he grabbed me under the arms and attempted to take off with me. His wings appeared to struggle with the task and he gave up after a short moment. I stood up, easily a head taller than him. I tried to get a look at his flight device, but he would not let me behind him.
"Stop, for just a moment, I want to see this thing," I said.
Instantly, he stopped, as if frozen in amber. I examined his backpack and noticed it seemed worn down and old. Plenty for one worker and his tools, but to transport a few hundred pounds of humanoid it would suffer greatly.
It was a marvel of engineering, with what seemed to be a large pressurized tank on the outside. A small turbine housing rested below, which seemed to drive the whole system. A small button rested on the small worker's gloves, connected to the tank, seemingly a sort of throttle. The components were corroded and old, but nothing a little TLC couldn't ease.
"It's pretty beat up, isn't it?" I said.
The worker nodded almost robotically, being the first time he has moved in around five minutes. When I came back around front, there was a positively terrified expression on his face. I took a step back, not knowing what I had done.
"Uh, are you ok?" I said.
He shook his head no, in that same robotic way.
"Are you going to move?" I asked, to no other response.
"Stop standing like that, it's freaking me out," I said.
Nearly instantly, the worker fell forward, and began jabbering away in that vaguely German language he had used earlier.
"Tell me what's going on," I said, a whirlwind of fight-or-flight responses whizzing in my head.
He went to speak, but instead stopped and cocked his head, a puzzled but still fearful look on his face.
"What language are you speaking?!" I exclaimed, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.
Instantly, he responded with "Common Gervalish," before clapping a gloved hand over his mouth as though he had said something taboo.
Gervalish? The hell is Gervalish?
"How do I learn Gervalish?" I asked.
He gave me an incredulous look, as though I had asked him how to eat.
"Everyone knows Common Gervalish," he said, before once again clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, as though he had just defaced the Mona Lisa.
I felt something change, but I couldn't place it. I went to speak, and realized I could pronounce the same word several ways. "What did you do?" I asked, still freaking out.
"I just changed reality," he said, in that same vaguely German language, a large dose of fear in his tone.
"Calm down, please, I need to figure out what's going on," I said.
Instantly, an air of meditative calm surrounded us. Suddenly I realized that I had understood him perfectly. I thought for a moment, reaching for a language I had no idea I knew.
"Please, calmly explain what is going on," I said, carefully and calmly, in the long lost language I had discovered. The farmhand seemed taken aback by this for a moment, but only said "I need to get you to the house, they'll want to see you."
I went to speak, but paused. I carefully said,
"You said you changed reality. What do you mean by that?"
An expression of dread returned to his face.
"You spoke pure, unfiltered Magic, and commanded me to also speak it. What I said, now means everyone knows Common Gervalish. Literally everyone," he said.
Suddenly I understood what I had done. Something I had done had magical properties here, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was my vocalizations.
I shook my head hard for a moment. I asked the farmhand, calmly, "Is there any way I can fix your wings?"
He shook his head, but paused midway, thinking.
"If you know such powerful magic, you should be able to fix it," he said, turning slightly so I had a clear view of the flying device.
I examined the machine, and took a moment to adjust my verbage. I put a hand on the tank, and clearly, calmly, carefully said, "Repair the mechanical device my hand currently touches to it's full potential, as though it were new," and instantly the corrosion vanished, the flexible rubber line to the glove became shiny, and the entire device gleamed as though it were just polished.
"Give it a try," I said, in the farmhand's native tongue.
Cautiously, he applied a small amount of pressure onto the button on his glove. Instantly, he shot eight feet in the air, his wings only making one fluid and silent stroke. Quickly, he readjusted and slowly descended. Without saying a word, he grabbed me under his arm, and took off once more. His toned worker's arms were deceivingly strong, I noted. We flew very quickly through the orchard, toward a large white mansion, adorned with several windmills. Worried thoughts began flowing through my mind, as we flew toward the home. Nothing I could do now but wait.
_____________________________________________
First time posting on this sub, definitely want to do some more with this prompt, obligatory 'posted from mobile and therefore bad formatting' but make any critiques and suggestions you can, I'm always looking to improve.
Edit: formatting, grammatical errors | The roars of the giant serpent echoed across the town. The serpent would spit flames from its mouth,hitting anything it could in the town. Homes,people,animals,nothing was safe from the serpent’s overwhelming power.
“Oh god we’re all going to die!” One person said.
“Where is my daughter?” Another screamed.
Nobody could do anything, all the adventurers who were there were dead,or could do nothing,but help others escape. Everyone was useless,there was nothing anyone could do. All they could do was die,or run for their life.
That's what I saw when I stumbled into this town on my way to Eastwood. It was utter chaos,” I guess there’s no high level adventurers here. They would make mincemeat of this thing in no time flat,I guess it’s up to me to stop this thing.” I thought to myself.
I aimed my hand up to the serpent’s head and started to focus my magic energy on my hand. When I felt like I had enough in my hand I said the words that would leave the serpent dead in a matter of seconds. “ lightning arrow.” I said calmly.
A sharp,quick blast of lightning shot from my hand faster than the eye can see. So fast in fact that I had trouble seeing it, guess I put too much power into it. The blast smoothly shot through the serpent's head, ending it faster than it could even know that it’s dead. Before the serpent’s body could fall and crush anyone still in the town, I made sure to burn it to nothing by touching its tail and saying,” incinerate.”
The serpent’s body was covered in a fire so hot, that even the bones were turned to ash. When all was said and done I left before I could draw anymore attention to myself, I really just wanted to get to Eastwood as fast as possible,so I could talk to the King of this world. Maybe he could tell me why I suddenly woke up in this world.
You see it was just a normal day for me back home, I had dinner, watched tv, took a shower,and went to bed. Next thing I knew I woke up in a forest, I had no idea where I was or why I was here. All I knew was that I was not at home anymore.
I don’t know how long I stayed in those woods trying to figure things out,but I started to get hungry,so I tried to find food. Sadly I got ambushed by a pack of giant wolves,and they were giant,bigger than the largest dog back on earth. Lucky for me I was rescued by a group of adventurers, they took out the giant wolves with no problems at all.
When the adventurers talked to me I was surprised that I could understand them, they asked me what I was doing there. I didn’t know how to respond,so I just said I was on my way to the nearest village. They told me the nearest village was a 5 day walk to the west.
Seeing as I had no idea what to do or really where I was going,I asked if I could come with them. Seeming how unprepared and weak I was they let me tag along. I learned many things from them on our journey, how to cast magic, where we were, and what monsters were. I used the excuse that I was born in the country,with parents that never told me anything about the world or magic.
After 5 days of traveling we reached the town of Horseback. This town was small but it was better than nothing, I said goodbye to the adventurers I traveled with and headed to the guild. I needed a way to make money in this world and I was told that this was one of the best ways to make a lot of cash. But this job was really dangerous as well, I really didn’t have a choice though, I needed quick easy cash, so I didn’t have to sleep outside on the ground.
I wasn’t really even worried about the monsters anyway, I was really really strong for some reason. When traveling with the adventurers I would one shot any monster that came our way. I have no idea why I was so strong,but I was better than being weak.
So that’s how I ended up here, I became an adventurer and started slaying monsters. All the while wondering how I got here. After saving enough money to leave the town I decided to head to the kingdom of Eastwood to talk to the king. He might have some answers for why I’m here. And if not, I’ll keep looking for a reason, and I’ll try to find a way home.
PS: I’m still new to writing,so if you have any pointers or any constructive criticism please let me know. I’m always trying to improve. Thank you for reading | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I laid there, sitting in the middle of the dark forest. I was just walking back from the supermarket, so it was very sudden to be surrounded by cultists. Before I appeared here, I had heard chanting, "**Oh who knows the Arcane Tongue, we call you so that free our master. Come to us to cover the ground with blood of magic. We call you so we can break chains of master."** The broken English was strange but that aside, the fact I was surrounded by all sorts of beings I had only seen in games was the more pressing matter.
"**Where am I?"** was all I had time to ask before 4 large figures grabbed at my ankles and wrists before they started dragging me towards this marble altar. Their hands were almost as long as my forearms. I winced as they squeezed hard enough to leave a bruise that would last a year at least.
"I can't believe it!." "We succeeded! We summoned one from the world beyond reality!" These voices cheered out in a language that was unlike any I'd heard, but I could understand that they were excited. They acted like they just got a five dollar per hour raise, and NOT like they were watching some 5'2" woman get dragged across muddy ground.
Before they could lift me up, over the stony slab of white and black rock, I just shouted, "**Get away from me!"** I didn't even expect them to care about my shouting, let alone these behemoths being shunted away from me with enough power to splinter a tree, as one man's back sunk half way through a large... oak? tree.
The cheering stopped all at once, as I was able to upright myself, I didn't think I could stand with how bad my ankles hurt. But they weren't approaching me. Those 5 seconds lasted for an eternity, before the clopping of hooves can from outside of the camp. These tents that I had yet to notice fell as what looked to be a squadron of cavalry knights charged in shouting the only words I had understood, but they didn't just make sound they had flashes of light as "**Barrier"** was screamed like a war cry, anyone who said that word was surrounded by a glimmering barrier of violet light. And the arrows from crossbows held by cultists simply bounced off of these sparkling barriers.
A few of these knights did not use shields, but instead spoke more words that drowned out the miscellaneous shouting, words like, "**Burn" "Freeze"** and **"Shock"** were followed by flashing lights of elemental energy.
Those simple words created such powerful effects, and they were in English! With all of the focus on the cultists and knights, I sat there and pondered about how when I asked questions nothing happened, but saying commands and statements effected the world around me. So what would happen if I used a longer word? One of a higher reading level... I had no reason to not test it out.
I said one word, "**Inferno"** and the forest was suddenly enveloped in flame, I heard nothing but the crackling of fire, and the screams only lasted for a second. But just as quickly as they had arrived, the hellish fire vanished into nothing. Leaving nothing but the corpses of those encased in the magical barriers even slightly intact for hundreds of feet.
I went from the middle of a forest full of combat, to a field of blackened and charred dirt. Only 20 minutes earlier I had been craving the barbeque that I had bought, but now the smell of singed meat only filled my stomach with nausea. | The roars of the giant serpent echoed across the town. The serpent would spit flames from its mouth,hitting anything it could in the town. Homes,people,animals,nothing was safe from the serpent’s overwhelming power.
“Oh god we’re all going to die!” One person said.
“Where is my daughter?” Another screamed.
Nobody could do anything, all the adventurers who were there were dead,or could do nothing,but help others escape. Everyone was useless,there was nothing anyone could do. All they could do was die,or run for their life.
That's what I saw when I stumbled into this town on my way to Eastwood. It was utter chaos,” I guess there’s no high level adventurers here. They would make mincemeat of this thing in no time flat,I guess it’s up to me to stop this thing.” I thought to myself.
I aimed my hand up to the serpent’s head and started to focus my magic energy on my hand. When I felt like I had enough in my hand I said the words that would leave the serpent dead in a matter of seconds. “ lightning arrow.” I said calmly.
A sharp,quick blast of lightning shot from my hand faster than the eye can see. So fast in fact that I had trouble seeing it, guess I put too much power into it. The blast smoothly shot through the serpent's head, ending it faster than it could even know that it’s dead. Before the serpent’s body could fall and crush anyone still in the town, I made sure to burn it to nothing by touching its tail and saying,” incinerate.”
The serpent’s body was covered in a fire so hot, that even the bones were turned to ash. When all was said and done I left before I could draw anymore attention to myself, I really just wanted to get to Eastwood as fast as possible,so I could talk to the King of this world. Maybe he could tell me why I suddenly woke up in this world.
You see it was just a normal day for me back home, I had dinner, watched tv, took a shower,and went to bed. Next thing I knew I woke up in a forest, I had no idea where I was or why I was here. All I knew was that I was not at home anymore.
I don’t know how long I stayed in those woods trying to figure things out,but I started to get hungry,so I tried to find food. Sadly I got ambushed by a pack of giant wolves,and they were giant,bigger than the largest dog back on earth. Lucky for me I was rescued by a group of adventurers, they took out the giant wolves with no problems at all.
When the adventurers talked to me I was surprised that I could understand them, they asked me what I was doing there. I didn’t know how to respond,so I just said I was on my way to the nearest village. They told me the nearest village was a 5 day walk to the west.
Seeing as I had no idea what to do or really where I was going,I asked if I could come with them. Seeming how unprepared and weak I was they let me tag along. I learned many things from them on our journey, how to cast magic, where we were, and what monsters were. I used the excuse that I was born in the country,with parents that never told me anything about the world or magic.
After 5 days of traveling we reached the town of Horseback. This town was small but it was better than nothing, I said goodbye to the adventurers I traveled with and headed to the guild. I needed a way to make money in this world and I was told that this was one of the best ways to make a lot of cash. But this job was really dangerous as well, I really didn’t have a choice though, I needed quick easy cash, so I didn’t have to sleep outside on the ground.
I wasn’t really even worried about the monsters anyway, I was really really strong for some reason. When traveling with the adventurers I would one shot any monster that came our way. I have no idea why I was so strong,but I was better than being weak.
So that’s how I ended up here, I became an adventurer and started slaying monsters. All the while wondering how I got here. After saving enough money to leave the town I decided to head to the kingdom of Eastwood to talk to the king. He might have some answers for why I’m here. And if not, I’ll keep looking for a reason, and I’ll try to find a way home.
PS: I’m still new to writing,so if you have any pointers or any constructive criticism please let me know. I’m always trying to improve. Thank you for reading | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I laid there, sitting in the middle of the dark forest. I was just walking back from the supermarket, so it was very sudden to be surrounded by cultists. Before I appeared here, I had heard chanting, "**Oh who knows the Arcane Tongue, we call you so that free our master. Come to us to cover the ground with blood of magic. We call you so we can break chains of master."** The broken English was strange but that aside, the fact I was surrounded by all sorts of beings I had only seen in games was the more pressing matter.
"**Where am I?"** was all I had time to ask before 4 large figures grabbed at my ankles and wrists before they started dragging me towards this marble altar. Their hands were almost as long as my forearms. I winced as they squeezed hard enough to leave a bruise that would last a year at least.
"I can't believe it!." "We succeeded! We summoned one from the world beyond reality!" These voices cheered out in a language that was unlike any I'd heard, but I could understand that they were excited. They acted like they just got a five dollar per hour raise, and NOT like they were watching some 5'2" woman get dragged across muddy ground.
Before they could lift me up, over the stony slab of white and black rock, I just shouted, "**Get away from me!"** I didn't even expect them to care about my shouting, let alone these behemoths being shunted away from me with enough power to splinter a tree, as one man's back sunk half way through a large... oak? tree.
The cheering stopped all at once, as I was able to upright myself, I didn't think I could stand with how bad my ankles hurt. But they weren't approaching me. Those 5 seconds lasted for an eternity, before the clopping of hooves can from outside of the camp. These tents that I had yet to notice fell as what looked to be a squadron of cavalry knights charged in shouting the only words I had understood, but they didn't just make sound they had flashes of light as "**Barrier"** was screamed like a war cry, anyone who said that word was surrounded by a glimmering barrier of violet light. And the arrows from crossbows held by cultists simply bounced off of these sparkling barriers.
A few of these knights did not use shields, but instead spoke more words that drowned out the miscellaneous shouting, words like, "**Burn" "Freeze"** and **"Shock"** were followed by flashing lights of elemental energy.
Those simple words created such powerful effects, and they were in English! With all of the focus on the cultists and knights, I sat there and pondered about how when I asked questions nothing happened, but saying commands and statements effected the world around me. So what would happen if I used a longer word? One of a higher reading level... I had no reason to not test it out.
I said one word, "**Inferno"** and the forest was suddenly enveloped in flame, I heard nothing but the crackling of fire, and the screams only lasted for a second. But just as quickly as they had arrived, the hellish fire vanished into nothing. Leaving nothing but the corpses of those encased in the magical barriers even slightly intact for hundreds of feet.
I went from the middle of a forest full of combat, to a field of blackened and charred dirt. Only 20 minutes earlier I had been craving the barbeque that I had bought, but now the smell of singed meat only filled my stomach with nausea. | The God and the Farmhand:
Words... That's all they were. That's all they could be... Right?
How wrong I was, was up there on the galactic scale.
Four months ago I woke up in an orchard. Not a normal orchard, no no, two-hundred foot tall trees stood around me when I arrived. A farmhand with a strange device that appeared like a personal set of wings on his back was hovering above me, seemingly tapping the tree, a large mallet and equally large spout in front of him. He glanced down and nearly fell out of the air. He looked at me very confused, before giving the spout a final almighty strike from the mallet. He descended slowly, and I got a good look at the device on his back as he did. I still had not said a word.
He touched down in front of me, asking me something that sounded vaguely German. He was about 5'4" with tanned gray skin and deep blue hair.
"Uh..." I said, confused.
Before I could finish, he grabbed me under the arms and attempted to take off with me. His wings appeared to struggle with the task and he gave up after a short moment. I stood up, easily a head taller than him. I tried to get a look at his flight device, but he would not let me behind him.
"Stop, for just a moment, I want to see this thing," I said.
Instantly, he stopped, as if frozen in amber. I examined his backpack and noticed it seemed worn down and old. Plenty for one worker and his tools, but to transport a few hundred pounds of humanoid it would suffer greatly.
It was a marvel of engineering, with what seemed to be a large pressurized tank on the outside. A small turbine housing rested below, which seemed to drive the whole system. A small button rested on the small worker's gloves, connected to the tank, seemingly a sort of throttle. The components were corroded and old, but nothing a little TLC couldn't ease.
"It's pretty beat up, isn't it?" I said.
The worker nodded almost robotically, being the first time he has moved in around five minutes. When I came back around front, there was a positively terrified expression on his face. I took a step back, not knowing what I had done.
"Uh, are you ok?" I said.
He shook his head no, in that same robotic way.
"Are you going to move?" I asked, to no other response.
"Stop standing like that, it's freaking me out," I said.
Nearly instantly, the worker fell forward, and began jabbering away in that vaguely German language he had used earlier.
"Tell me what's going on," I said, a whirlwind of fight-or-flight responses whizzing in my head.
He went to speak, but instead stopped and cocked his head, a puzzled but still fearful look on his face.
"What language are you speaking?!" I exclaimed, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.
Instantly, he responded with "Common Gervalish," before clapping a gloved hand over his mouth as though he had said something taboo.
Gervalish? The hell is Gervalish?
"How do I learn Gervalish?" I asked.
He gave me an incredulous look, as though I had asked him how to eat.
"Everyone knows Common Gervalish," he said, before once again clapping a hand over his mouth, eyes wide, as though he had just defaced the Mona Lisa.
I felt something change, but I couldn't place it. I went to speak, and realized I could pronounce the same word several ways. "What did you do?" I asked, still freaking out.
"I just changed reality," he said, in that same vaguely German language, a large dose of fear in his tone.
"Calm down, please, I need to figure out what's going on," I said.
Instantly, an air of meditative calm surrounded us. Suddenly I realized that I had understood him perfectly. I thought for a moment, reaching for a language I had no idea I knew.
"Please, calmly explain what is going on," I said, carefully and calmly, in the long lost language I had discovered. The farmhand seemed taken aback by this for a moment, but only said "I need to get you to the house, they'll want to see you."
I went to speak, but paused. I carefully said,
"You said you changed reality. What do you mean by that?"
An expression of dread returned to his face.
"You spoke pure, unfiltered Magic, and commanded me to also speak it. What I said, now means everyone knows Common Gervalish. Literally everyone," he said.
Suddenly I understood what I had done. Something I had done had magical properties here, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it was my vocalizations.
I shook my head hard for a moment. I asked the farmhand, calmly, "Is there any way I can fix your wings?"
He shook his head, but paused midway, thinking.
"If you know such powerful magic, you should be able to fix it," he said, turning slightly so I had a clear view of the flying device.
I examined the machine, and took a moment to adjust my verbage. I put a hand on the tank, and clearly, calmly, carefully said, "Repair the mechanical device my hand currently touches to it's full potential, as though it were new," and instantly the corrosion vanished, the flexible rubber line to the glove became shiny, and the entire device gleamed as though it were just polished.
"Give it a try," I said, in the farmhand's native tongue.
Cautiously, he applied a small amount of pressure onto the button on his glove. Instantly, he shot eight feet in the air, his wings only making one fluid and silent stroke. Quickly, he readjusted and slowly descended. Without saying a word, he grabbed me under his arm, and took off once more. His toned worker's arms were deceivingly strong, I noted. We flew very quickly through the orchard, toward a large white mansion, adorned with several windmills. Worried thoughts began flowing through my mind, as we flew toward the home. Nothing I could do now but wait.
_____________________________________________
First time posting on this sub, definitely want to do some more with this prompt, obligatory 'posted from mobile and therefore bad formatting' but make any critiques and suggestions you can, I'm always looking to improve.
Edit: formatting, grammatical errors | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Get away from me, you-" I screamed, holding my hand up in midair as the two armies charged toward me.
It wasn't my fault, alright? It wasn't like I wanted to go through the ancient gateway in the forest, seeking a world beyond my own. I didn't ask to be transported in the middle of two clashing kingdoms either. And yet, here I was.
One brilliant flash of light later and both armies were reduced to...well, I can't say what they were reduced to. Reducing something traditionally implies that they left something behind. Unless nothing counts, a better word would be to vaporize entirely.
I coughed. This was awkward. I took a short reprieve to examine my surroundings.
It was a battlefield. The few survivors and elite guards that had not been in my range of attack stared at me with wide eyes, their heavy gear and gleaming badges of honor seeming to wince, as if unable to look directly at me.
The battleground was surrounded by dense forest, and the sky above me was cloudy-grey. The King behind me cleared his throat.
"Wh-what did you..." he couldn't even say it.
One of the men at his side stepped forward. He wore blue robes and has a smoky-gray beard. He and Gandalf would've either killed each other or been best friends.
"She speaks the Witches' Tongue so perfectly. It should be impossible," he murmured, staring at me as if I were some alien artifact. "And yet here you are."
"I-I'm sorry, the Witches' Tongue?" I asked, still prepared for a fight. "All I said was 'get away from me'"
The mages' jaws dropped so hard I was worried a bird might decide to roost in them.
"H-How? We are incapable of speaking more than a word, and yet you-you spoke a whole sentence, perfectly! What sorcery is this?"
"I learned it when I was five? Greek is my native tongue,"
"Where do you come from?"
"That's what I should be asking you," I muttered, raising my hand. Fear danced across their faces. I'd nearly forgotten there was another monarch behind me, with her own squadron of elite fighters, all dressed in red.
Thankfully, they didn't attack. Being killed by people I had no idea existed? Talk about embarrassing.
"Welcome to the Sanguine Lands, my dear," she whispered, her voice slick like poisoned honey and as smooth as the scales of a snake. "Come with me. You could use a meal, and perhaps a hot bath?" she suggested, smiling.
"No! Do not listen to her! It is horrible magic," the King shouted. "She will lure you in with her siren sound, and then-"
"Shut up, both of you," I muttered, this time in Greek. They flailed and moaned as flaps of skin appeared over their lips. The sorcerers on both sides seemed geared up to attack, so I sighed and turned towards them as well.
"Would you like me to turn them into pigs instead? Be glad they're still human,"
"You could do that?" one blurted out.
"With ease. Now run off, all of you. The adults are talking," I said, the Greek accent dripping off every word. It enhanced the effect two-fold, much to my chagrin. They screamed and ran and ran all around me. It was giving me a migraine.
"Yeah, no," I muttered, turning back to the still-struggling monarchs before me. "Look, I'm really not interested in any of this. So here's the deal. You're free," she said, waving her hands as she spoke the final words in Greek.
"Cease her!" the King and Queen demanded. Cute. Their fighters were still busy running around like headless chickens.
"Thanks, but no," I smiled.
"Take me to the beach," I ordered. Five minutes later, I was sipping drinks as the waves crashed on the shore. | Suddenly, I was surrounded by wizards. There was no other explanation, given their colorful robes, pointy hats, long beards, and wooden staffs and wands. They were in a circle around me, chanting something. “Sea trapado “ they seemed to be saying, or something like that. One of the wizards, the one with the most ridiculous outfit, the tallest hat, the longest beard, and the most intricate stick, started talking to me:
“Gran critura de otro mudno, responde a nostras plegarias”.
I stared at him. He seemed surprised, although I couldn’t tell why. “Sir, maybe we should try the pronunciation the great Arimathew proposed?”one of the other wizards, who was outside the circle, said in perfect English.
The grand wizard nodded and repeated what I could only assume was supposed to be a spell of some kind: “Gran critura de otro mundo, responde a nostras plegarias”, he repeated. Again, he was surprised when nothing happened.
“Alright I would really like to go home now, what exactly do you want from me you weirdos?” I said.
“Oh great creature, we have trapped you in a circle of salt so that you may lend us our help in this time of need!” the wizard responded.
I looked at the ground and show that, around me, there was a circle in the ground, drawn with salt, that separated me from the wizards. “Que estupidez, un círculo de sal no puede atraparme” I whispered to myself. Suddenly, a loud crack came out of nowhere, and reality seemed to ripple around me. When I looked down, I saw that the salt circle had been destroyed, as if a grenade had exploded in the center of it, but everything else seemed intact. The wizards started chanting even faster and louder, and now I realized they were trying to say “Sea atrapado”, or “be trapped”, in my native language, Spanish. “Callaros un poco por favor” I told the chanting wizards, and suddenly they all went mute. The great wizard now seemed terrified, but he still managed to talk with me: “Oh great creature, a terrible plague is decimating our world, only you have the power to save us” he said.
“And how am I supposed to do that?” I asked.
“Simply state that the illness does not exist in the ancient language, that which you are native to, oh great creature, and your will shall change reality.“ he responded.
“Well that’s easy. ¡Que este mundo quede libre de la enfermedad!” I exclaimed. Again, a loud crack and a ripple through reality surrounded us. “Can I go home now?” I asked the wizard.
“Yes, simply state that you wish to return. And thank you, oh great otherworldly creature.”. Without wasting any time, I did as he said, and I immediately found myself back home eating cereal. As I finished breakfast and thought about what the hell just happened, I realized I never let the other wizards speak again. Oh well, I shrugged, I’m sure it won’t cause any problems. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | ***PART ONE:***
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
Waking abruptly, a young girl sat up and took in her surroundings. Just the night before she was drinking downtown with her friends, so to end up in the middle of a dense forest she didn't recognize? Julia had always reliably gone on a stroll when drunk, but she'd quite obviously gone much further this time.
Although her head is pounding and her fingers feel numb, she can't help but admire the strangely saturated hue of the foliage above her and the puzzle pieces of sunlight shining through the canopy. The only thing that really concerns Julia is the lack of sound... No people, cars, or even animals and birds.
"Hello!?" Julia calls out.
There's a strange energy passing through the trees, but with no discernable origin or destination it almost unnotably washes over her.
"Can anyone hear me!?" she calls out again.
The same aura passes over her a second time, but now it has accumulated far off in the distance. Julia can feel something pulling her towards it and decides that she has nothing to lose by walking in that direction and hoping for the best.
After a few minutes strolling silently through the woods, the only sounds she can hear are the twigs snapping beneath her feet and the occasional pebble kicked through the forest floor. The cold breeze is pushing her back slightly but also seems to carry an unfamiliar smell-- sweet and savory surrounding something... foreign to her.
After passing through into a small open field, he spots a young man dressed in a large brown cloak. He's standing in front of a small fire roasting some kind of meat. She can't quite make out exactly what he looks like from this distance but assumes that anyone is better than no one. As she slowly approaches, the man turns and spots her-- causing him to freeze, raise one of his hands, and start speaking. Unable to hear him, she decides to try and speak herself.
"Hi friend, I was lost and-"
Suddenly a small blast erupts in front of Julia. Swift enough not to know what it was, but slow-moving enough to know that it came from the man. Although her vision is shaded with dust, smoke, and debris, the attack doesn't hurt her.
"What the hell was that!?" Julia calls out. By this point the man has closed the gap between them concerningly fast, allowing Julia to hear him. The man speaks again but only says;
"ORGANIC IMPRISONMENT."
Suddenly a large burst of vines disgorge from the earth and wrap themselves around her ankles, legs, and waist before stopping as it tightly holds her arms.
"What the f- How'd you do that!?"
The man stops for a moment and has found himself to be curiously invested in Julia. Not wanting to upset him further, she remains silent for a moment and watches him get closer. As he cautiously walks toward her he starts speaking again, but does so in a strange language she's never heard before.
*"Whe oru yei ond why'd yei try ond snuok ip en mu?"*
Julia is confused, but can barely make out a word or two. Although seemingly gibberish, it holds some semblance to traditional English.
"Please, I don't know what's happening... just let me go."
Without warning the vines rot and age, falling dead to the ground. Julia is released and dropped onto her feet. The man meanwhile is caught off guard and jumps back before raising his hand again, about to prepare another short sentence. With that, Julia knows what's about to come and without thinking she preemptively shouts a word of her own.
"STOP!"
Having just stepped back, the man is overcome with a bright green shimmer that holds him in place several inches above the ground. He stays positioned in the air as if he were a picture perfect photograph. Julia can hardly believe what she's seeing as she unhurriedly walks around the figure, but quickly realizes what's happened.
"I... did that. Damn, what did he say before? Organic imprisonment...?"
Before Julia can properly register the situation, another swarm of vines climb up the mans body in the same way as previously done to her.
"Uh... Okay, start?"
The man is unfrozen and almost gets himself tangled further in his attempt to keep moving backwards. This sudden change causes him to stop speaking, lose focus, and fall back onto the ground with a loud thud-- still entombed by the large growth of vines and roots. Julia decides to walk over and ask the man some questions.
"So I can control things by speaking them?" she asks looking down at him.
The man looks at her blankly and squints in a disoriented manner. She can tell that he somewhat understands her but seems confused for some reason.
"Why'ru yei enly spuokang an mogacol?" he says as he adjusts himself on the ground.
"Mogacol? Magical? Did you just say magical?"
Realizing that this man doesn't understand what she's saying, she figures that if magic can freeze people in midair and bind them with weird vines that it must be able to help them communicate right?
"Okay... Let's give this a go then. You will understand everything I say."
The same green shimmer washes over the man and his eyes start glowing a saturated lime before settling back to their normal blue color.
"Can you understand me now?"
The mans surprised expression tells Julia everything she needs to know.
"Great! Uh, now I understand your language?" she calls out.
She can feel a cool breeze brush past her and cloud her vision in the same green hue, before going back to normal after a short time.
"What did you just do?" the man asks. Julia can't help but smile and hop a little before calming down and looking at the man.
"I was hoping you would tell me. Where am I?" Julia asks.
"You're... speaking in magic, but I can understand you?"
"Yes yes, where am I?"
"Oh uh, in the Barmeda Wilds. Wait, how do you *not* know where you are? It's almost impossible for an outsider to get in here on purpose let alone without realizing it."
"Outsider? Look man, I just got a bit too drunk last night and accidentally wandered a bit too far from hom-"
The man interrupts before she can finish.
"You got in here drunk!?"
There's a brief silence while the man contemplates what's happening.
"There's something obviously not right here. Can you even speak Intari?"
"Speak Intari?"
Another wave of green light obscures her vision slightly before a painful headache floods her mind. The pain is unnerving and significant but after a couple seconds, fades just as quickly as it came.
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
*(Part Two in comments ;P)* | I waved my wand as the spell fell uselessly from my lips. Try as I might, I could not get the pronunciation down.
"Oh fer geez," I muttered. "I swear I said it just like da scroll says to. Uffda, I'm so sick a dis."
My mentor furrowed his brow. In my own tongue, his thickly accented encouragement sounded funny to me, but I tried to focus on what he was saying.
"The words are supposed to rhyme," he cajoled. "Try it again."
Disgruntled, I took up my pose and raised my want again. "Birds of feather, scale of trout, make this rug to fly aboot!"
Nothing happened.
"It's about, not aboot," my mentor sighed.
"That's what I said."
"No you--agh, nevermind. Let's try a different one."
I scanned the scroll, looking for something easier to start with. Then I saw it. Next to it was a little illustration of an otter holding a wooden bucket. "Oh fer cute," I exclaimed. Then I took my stance once more.
"Local lore and local fauna, turn this rock into a sowna!"
Nothing happened.
My mentor held his head in his hands. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | One moment I was home, the next I was standing on the stage of what seemed to be an old chapel of gothic design. Empty.
“What the hell had just happened?” I thought to myself. “How am I suddenly here?”
My senses heightened as fear set in.
I tried to call out “Hello?”, but my voice came out as a hoarse squeak; a far cry from the confident voice I wanted.
I cleared my throat and mustered my voice, calling again—stronger this time.
“Hello?!”…
My voice echoed off the walls. My legs felt anchored to the spot I’d appeared in. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to move. To run. To hide? Then I heard rushing footsteps through the walls, coming closer. I remained frozen in fear, and then—
Five of the six doors lining the walls opened—not all at the same time—and people peered in at me, bewildered. They approached slowly, speaking a language I did not understand. But they seemed… afraid of me. Yet it seemed they were also… talking AT me?
The sixth door flung open, and a man with a book entered. He appeared rushed. Panicked.
He commanded some words I didn’t know, and the people gasped and backed away.
He flipped to a page in his book, silently scanned it, then said to me:
“Quiet.”
**VOo**oo^oom!
And everything was.
I felt the surprise on my face, and I could tell he acknowledged it too.
“What??” I said.
And he looked at me as if I’d just asked him every question in the universe. His eyes bulged, face turned red, and veins in his bald head began to swell. He shook his head ‘no no no’ as he flipped furiously through his book.
“Oblivious!” He finally said! And the crowd gasped—seemingly in awe at his utterance—and I saw the man breathe a sigh of relief—his face slowly returning back to normal.
He spoke to me again in that language I didn’t know, so I told him plainly:
“I don’t understand you.”
He looked concerned, but gave the slightest nod.
“Understand!” He said back.
For a moment I felt like I knew what was going on, but I said again anyway “Uh… no, I don’t understand.”
Alarmed this time he said “Understand! Understand!!”
“Ah! Uh— Okay! I understand!”
“Oh! Thank goodness!“
“Whoa!! I understand you now!”
“I understand” He said back.
“What?”
“Ah! Oblivious!”
“Why did you say Oblivious again??”
“Because you keep casting that spell!”
“What?!”
“OBLIVIOUS!! That spell!”
“WHAT SPELL?!!”
“**’WHAT’.**”
I suddenly felt my mind rushed through by an infinite wave of questions, all of which I felt compelled to answer. I couldn’t keep up with them! It felt like my brain was beginning to fry. And that’s when I got it.
“OBLIVIOUS!” I said. And all the questions washed away; I no longer needed to answer them.
The man was looking down at his book again, then he looked up at me. “Now you’re speaking my language.” He said.
“Uhh… I don’t think that’s how you use that saying.”
“What saying?”
“The one you just said: ‘Now you’re speaking my language.’ “
The man shook his head. “That is not what I said. I said this:” and he pointed to a line in his book.
“That was the exact thing I just said.”
“No,” he said, “you said it in our tongue; when I said it, it was in your tongue.”
I blinked.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He pointed to the book again. On one line was the English phrase I’d just said, and on the next—letters and words I’d never seen before, yet I could read them somehow. ‘Now you’re speaking my language: A complex spell to swap any creature’s native tongue to that of the spell caster…’
I looked at him, and I concentrated…
“Now I’m speaking MY language.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head-
“NO—“
“Now YOU’RE speaking my language!” I said.
He was about to continue speaking, then he clasped his hand over his mouth and looked back to the crowd of people, concerned.
The woman in front shook her head, as if to non-verbally ask “what went wrong”?
The man flipped back through his book, read some lines, then said:
“Undo! …Hello?”
He looked to the woman seemingly for approval, and she nodded to him. He turned back to me, pointing a finger.
“Do not say that again! You were speaking in OUR tongue, and you understand our tongue as well. But YOUR native tongue is potently magical, and you are endangering all of us by speaking it so freely!”
“Ah! Okay! Alright, I get it. You can stop.”
And I did get it. And he did stop.
He stopped so completely in fact that he fell to the floor stiff. I could hear noises normally again. The people rushed over to him as he bobbled on the ground stiff as a board, or more like a statue.
I looked on in perplexity…
“I… understand…” I chose my words carefully, not wanting to overwhelm my mind with information, “…why I’m here…”
Nothing, so I tried again quicker this time:
“I understand why I’m here!”
And I did.
“Whoa! Uh…” I looked at the man who I’d frozen. “Continue!”
And the man unfroze, much to the relief of the people.
I finally understood it all now…
They summoned me here months ago in their time! Or at least they intended to. But the foolish words they used to summon me—the words in my tongue, magical to them—were that I must “please come in their time of need!” But they worded their spell more as a prayer: Too kindly. Too much fluff language. So I came not at that very moment—not at the time they THOUGHT they needed me—but I came now… in their TRUE time of need for me.
This was made clear, not just by my words I spoke, but by the sudden loud crashing outside, and the lick of what must’ve been flames behind the stained glass windows. This place—whatever it was—was under threat of attack, and only now was the attack coming underway. And I…
I was here to talk their way out of it. | I waved my wand as the spell fell uselessly from my lips. Try as I might, I could not get the pronunciation down.
"Oh fer geez," I muttered. "I swear I said it just like da scroll says to. Uffda, I'm so sick a dis."
My mentor furrowed his brow. In my own tongue, his thickly accented encouragement sounded funny to me, but I tried to focus on what he was saying.
"The words are supposed to rhyme," he cajoled. "Try it again."
Disgruntled, I took up my pose and raised my want again. "Birds of feather, scale of trout, make this rug to fly aboot!"
Nothing happened.
"It's about, not aboot," my mentor sighed.
"That's what I said."
"No you--agh, nevermind. Let's try a different one."
I scanned the scroll, looking for something easier to start with. Then I saw it. Next to it was a little illustration of an otter holding a wooden bucket. "Oh fer cute," I exclaimed. Then I took my stance once more.
"Local lore and local fauna, turn this rock into a sowna!"
Nothing happened.
My mentor held his head in his hands. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | ***PART ONE:***
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
Waking abruptly, a young girl sat up and took in her surroundings. Just the night before she was drinking downtown with her friends, so to end up in the middle of a dense forest she didn't recognize? Julia had always reliably gone on a stroll when drunk, but she'd quite obviously gone much further this time.
Although her head is pounding and her fingers feel numb, she can't help but admire the strangely saturated hue of the foliage above her and the puzzle pieces of sunlight shining through the canopy. The only thing that really concerns Julia is the lack of sound... No people, cars, or even animals and birds.
"Hello!?" Julia calls out.
There's a strange energy passing through the trees, but with no discernable origin or destination it almost unnotably washes over her.
"Can anyone hear me!?" she calls out again.
The same aura passes over her a second time, but now it has accumulated far off in the distance. Julia can feel something pulling her towards it and decides that she has nothing to lose by walking in that direction and hoping for the best.
After a few minutes strolling silently through the woods, the only sounds she can hear are the twigs snapping beneath her feet and the occasional pebble kicked through the forest floor. The cold breeze is pushing her back slightly but also seems to carry an unfamiliar smell-- sweet and savory surrounding something... foreign to her.
After passing through into a small open field, he spots a young man dressed in a large brown cloak. He's standing in front of a small fire roasting some kind of meat. She can't quite make out exactly what he looks like from this distance but assumes that anyone is better than no one. As she slowly approaches, the man turns and spots her-- causing him to freeze, raise one of his hands, and start speaking. Unable to hear him, she decides to try and speak herself.
"Hi friend, I was lost and-"
Suddenly a small blast erupts in front of Julia. Swift enough not to know what it was, but slow-moving enough to know that it came from the man. Although her vision is shaded with dust, smoke, and debris, the attack doesn't hurt her.
"What the hell was that!?" Julia calls out. By this point the man has closed the gap between them concerningly fast, allowing Julia to hear him. The man speaks again but only says;
"ORGANIC IMPRISONMENT."
Suddenly a large burst of vines disgorge from the earth and wrap themselves around her ankles, legs, and waist before stopping as it tightly holds her arms.
"What the f- How'd you do that!?"
The man stops for a moment and has found himself to be curiously invested in Julia. Not wanting to upset him further, she remains silent for a moment and watches him get closer. As he cautiously walks toward her he starts speaking again, but does so in a strange language she's never heard before.
*"Whe oru yei ond why'd yei try ond snuok ip en mu?"*
Julia is confused, but can barely make out a word or two. Although seemingly gibberish, it holds some semblance to traditional English.
"Please, I don't know what's happening... just let me go."
Without warning the vines rot and age, falling dead to the ground. Julia is released and dropped onto her feet. The man meanwhile is caught off guard and jumps back before raising his hand again, about to prepare another short sentence. With that, Julia knows what's about to come and without thinking she preemptively shouts a word of her own.
"STOP!"
Having just stepped back, the man is overcome with a bright green shimmer that holds him in place several inches above the ground. He stays positioned in the air as if he were a picture perfect photograph. Julia can hardly believe what she's seeing as she unhurriedly walks around the figure, but quickly realizes what's happened.
"I... did that. Damn, what did he say before? Organic imprisonment...?"
Before Julia can properly register the situation, another swarm of vines climb up the mans body in the same way as previously done to her.
"Uh... Okay, start?"
The man is unfrozen and almost gets himself tangled further in his attempt to keep moving backwards. This sudden change causes him to stop speaking, lose focus, and fall back onto the ground with a loud thud-- still entombed by the large growth of vines and roots. Julia decides to walk over and ask the man some questions.
"So I can control things by speaking them?" she asks looking down at him.
The man looks at her blankly and squints in a disoriented manner. She can tell that he somewhat understands her but seems confused for some reason.
"Why'ru yei enly spuokang an mogacol?" he says as he adjusts himself on the ground.
"Mogacol? Magical? Did you just say magical?"
Realizing that this man doesn't understand what she's saying, she figures that if magic can freeze people in midair and bind them with weird vines that it must be able to help them communicate right?
"Okay... Let's give this a go then. You will understand everything I say."
The same green shimmer washes over the man and his eyes start glowing a saturated lime before settling back to their normal blue color.
"Can you understand me now?"
The mans surprised expression tells Julia everything she needs to know.
"Great! Uh, now I understand your language?" she calls out.
She can feel a cool breeze brush past her and cloud her vision in the same green hue, before going back to normal after a short time.
"What did you just do?" the man asks. Julia can't help but smile and hop a little before calming down and looking at the man.
"I was hoping you would tell me. Where am I?" Julia asks.
"You're... speaking in magic, but I can understand you?"
"Yes yes, where am I?"
"Oh uh, in the Barmeda Wilds. Wait, how do you *not* know where you are? It's almost impossible for an outsider to get in here on purpose let alone without realizing it."
"Outsider? Look man, I just got a bit too drunk last night and accidentally wandered a bit too far from hom-"
The man interrupts before she can finish.
"You got in here drunk!?"
There's a brief silence while the man contemplates what's happening.
"There's something obviously not right here. Can you even speak Intari?"
"Speak Intari?"
Another wave of green light obscures her vision slightly before a painful headache floods her mind. The pain is unnerving and significant but after a couple seconds, fades just as quickly as it came.
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
*(Part Two in comments ;P)* | I never liked poetry. That's what I used to think in my school days. From my point of view, it was a bunch of complicated words piled together that just so happened to rhyme. And the authors were a bunch of glorified pretentious assholes. Now I wish with all my heart that I could remember more of their masterpieces.
Since I arrived in this magical world a year ago, I have been trying different styles and combinations of grammatical structures. I mean, it's still shocking that my native tongue is the catalyst to manipulate the flow of mana that phases through everything in here.
From simple sentences to almost complete histories. Anything spoken in my first language can create an infinite array of elemental bolts, enchanments, summonings and other types of spells.
But to think that poetry is the most effective and flexible way to create any desired spell. I didn't see that one coming. Songs were my first choice, after realizing that sentences didn't translate into literal magical effects. The intent and meaning of the words have a direct impact on the results of the spell. And this is where poetry shines as a fast answer that can have complex yet useful results.
"Viajar es marcharse de casa,
es dejar los amigos
es intentar volar
volar conociendo otras ramas
recorriendo caminos
es intentar cambiar"
As I recite the first stanza from Gabriel García Márquez' poem, the clouded sky opens up. Sun rays pass through the openings as a gigantic full-rigged flying ship made of clouds descends to pick me up. I close my notebook filled with all the great poems that I could remember and I think to myself.
It's time to go on an adventure. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | One moment I was home, the next I was standing on the stage of what seemed to be an old chapel of gothic design. Empty.
“What the hell had just happened?” I thought to myself. “How am I suddenly here?”
My senses heightened as fear set in.
I tried to call out “Hello?”, but my voice came out as a hoarse squeak; a far cry from the confident voice I wanted.
I cleared my throat and mustered my voice, calling again—stronger this time.
“Hello?!”…
My voice echoed off the walls. My legs felt anchored to the spot I’d appeared in. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to move. To run. To hide? Then I heard rushing footsteps through the walls, coming closer. I remained frozen in fear, and then—
Five of the six doors lining the walls opened—not all at the same time—and people peered in at me, bewildered. They approached slowly, speaking a language I did not understand. But they seemed… afraid of me. Yet it seemed they were also… talking AT me?
The sixth door flung open, and a man with a book entered. He appeared rushed. Panicked.
He commanded some words I didn’t know, and the people gasped and backed away.
He flipped to a page in his book, silently scanned it, then said to me:
“Quiet.”
**VOo**oo^oom!
And everything was.
I felt the surprise on my face, and I could tell he acknowledged it too.
“What??” I said.
And he looked at me as if I’d just asked him every question in the universe. His eyes bulged, face turned red, and veins in his bald head began to swell. He shook his head ‘no no no’ as he flipped furiously through his book.
“Oblivious!” He finally said! And the crowd gasped—seemingly in awe at his utterance—and I saw the man breathe a sigh of relief—his face slowly returning back to normal.
He spoke to me again in that language I didn’t know, so I told him plainly:
“I don’t understand you.”
He looked concerned, but gave the slightest nod.
“Understand!” He said back.
For a moment I felt like I knew what was going on, but I said again anyway “Uh… no, I don’t understand.”
Alarmed this time he said “Understand! Understand!!”
“Ah! Uh— Okay! I understand!”
“Oh! Thank goodness!“
“Whoa!! I understand you now!”
“I understand” He said back.
“What?”
“Ah! Oblivious!”
“Why did you say Oblivious again??”
“Because you keep casting that spell!”
“What?!”
“OBLIVIOUS!! That spell!”
“WHAT SPELL?!!”
“**’WHAT’.**”
I suddenly felt my mind rushed through by an infinite wave of questions, all of which I felt compelled to answer. I couldn’t keep up with them! It felt like my brain was beginning to fry. And that’s when I got it.
“OBLIVIOUS!” I said. And all the questions washed away; I no longer needed to answer them.
The man was looking down at his book again, then he looked up at me. “Now you’re speaking my language.” He said.
“Uhh… I don’t think that’s how you use that saying.”
“What saying?”
“The one you just said: ‘Now you’re speaking my language.’ “
The man shook his head. “That is not what I said. I said this:” and he pointed to a line in his book.
“That was the exact thing I just said.”
“No,” he said, “you said it in our tongue; when I said it, it was in your tongue.”
I blinked.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
He pointed to the book again. On one line was the English phrase I’d just said, and on the next—letters and words I’d never seen before, yet I could read them somehow. ‘Now you’re speaking my language: A complex spell to swap any creature’s native tongue to that of the spell caster…’
I looked at him, and I concentrated…
“Now I’m speaking MY language.”
His eyes widened and he shook his head-
“NO—“
“Now YOU’RE speaking my language!” I said.
He was about to continue speaking, then he clasped his hand over his mouth and looked back to the crowd of people, concerned.
The woman in front shook her head, as if to non-verbally ask “what went wrong”?
The man flipped back through his book, read some lines, then said:
“Undo! …Hello?”
He looked to the woman seemingly for approval, and she nodded to him. He turned back to me, pointing a finger.
“Do not say that again! You were speaking in OUR tongue, and you understand our tongue as well. But YOUR native tongue is potently magical, and you are endangering all of us by speaking it so freely!”
“Ah! Okay! Alright, I get it. You can stop.”
And I did get it. And he did stop.
He stopped so completely in fact that he fell to the floor stiff. I could hear noises normally again. The people rushed over to him as he bobbled on the ground stiff as a board, or more like a statue.
I looked on in perplexity…
“I… understand…” I chose my words carefully, not wanting to overwhelm my mind with information, “…why I’m here…”
Nothing, so I tried again quicker this time:
“I understand why I’m here!”
And I did.
“Whoa! Uh…” I looked at the man who I’d frozen. “Continue!”
And the man unfroze, much to the relief of the people.
I finally understood it all now…
They summoned me here months ago in their time! Or at least they intended to. But the foolish words they used to summon me—the words in my tongue, magical to them—were that I must “please come in their time of need!” But they worded their spell more as a prayer: Too kindly. Too much fluff language. So I came not at that very moment—not at the time they THOUGHT they needed me—but I came now… in their TRUE time of need for me.
This was made clear, not just by my words I spoke, but by the sudden loud crashing outside, and the lick of what must’ve been flames behind the stained glass windows. This place—whatever it was—was under threat of attack, and only now was the attack coming underway. And I…
I was here to talk their way out of it. | I never liked poetry. That's what I used to think in my school days. From my point of view, it was a bunch of complicated words piled together that just so happened to rhyme. And the authors were a bunch of glorified pretentious assholes. Now I wish with all my heart that I could remember more of their masterpieces.
Since I arrived in this magical world a year ago, I have been trying different styles and combinations of grammatical structures. I mean, it's still shocking that my native tongue is the catalyst to manipulate the flow of mana that phases through everything in here.
From simple sentences to almost complete histories. Anything spoken in my first language can create an infinite array of elemental bolts, enchanments, summonings and other types of spells.
But to think that poetry is the most effective and flexible way to create any desired spell. I didn't see that one coming. Songs were my first choice, after realizing that sentences didn't translate into literal magical effects. The intent and meaning of the words have a direct impact on the results of the spell. And this is where poetry shines as a fast answer that can have complex yet useful results.
"Viajar es marcharse de casa,
es dejar los amigos
es intentar volar
volar conociendo otras ramas
recorriendo caminos
es intentar cambiar"
As I recite the first stanza from Gabriel García Márquez' poem, the clouded sky opens up. Sun rays pass through the openings as a gigantic full-rigged flying ship made of clouds descends to pick me up. I close my notebook filled with all the great poems that I could remember and I think to myself.
It's time to go on an adventure. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | [TW: depression, suicide]
Silence is of gold, but measured words are priceless.
The Demon King wanted to summon a tool for himself, to bring ruin upon the human world. He was stopped by his own tool, by a most simple magic.
"Disparais."
And he was no more. People celebrated, as they ought to be when the enemy of humankind is gone. Kings and Knights never let the not-mute alone, asking him to be their vassal, confident, pillar of strength. After all, evil had been banished by their words, and even if they didn't know how, the stranger knew spells of potency unmatched. Denied in silence, they asked to imprison the person. They earned only ire, presented unto them by a spell.
"Laissez-moi en paix."
The next day, they could not muster a word concerning the not-mute. The common people stopped calling them such, for a less awe-aspiring nickname, the walking calamity; for a being of such power is oft feared. Armies of mages gathered over the single goal of erasing them, for only greater magic can best itself. And yet, they couldn't be greater. By the time their long and verbose incantation was halfway, a feminine voice ringed.
"Partez."
And they went. But a battle still raged on in the stranger's heart.
___
Solitude fits Holly. Or so she pretended. A heart notices not the pressure until it cracks. She stumbled over to the kitchen part of the grotto she dug out and outfitted with magic; opened the magic fridge. Empty. A hilariously close description to her own being, after being ripped from her world and thrown into politics and danger.
"Putain."
The thoughtless magic system summoned a whore, and Holly quickly cancelled the spell. Even if she swinged that way, physical joy wouldn't do her any good. Beside, "Après l'effort, le réconfort", or so the idiom goes. And mechanically, she went outside to hunt game and gather herbs. She didn't care if she was under the spell or not.
"Il me faut un couteau."
A knife appeared in her hands. Lucent, sharp beyond measure. The perfect ideal of a knife. One she wishes to be in her hands- not to hunt.
A parasite thought took over, and she took a deep breath. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | “STOP!” I screamed.
The men froze. Hands, clutching swords and axes, hung mid-strike, inches from my face. I crouched expecting the blows to come. After what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes and looked up, incredulous.
The scene was like a photograph. An angry horde of barbarians garbed in brown tunics and strapped leather sandals had been racing towards me just a second ago. Now they all stood like statues, motionless but for the fog steaming from their mouths in the cold. I could see in their eyes they were terrified and confused.
I stood upright, slowly. All of them were looking at me now, though none could move a muscle. My outburst had been instinctual. I didn’t know where I was or how I’d got there. As a drunk I was used to that sort of scenario. It’d been a long time since I’d lost count of how many times I’d woken up in an unfamiliar place, only to stumble my way back home by instinct alone. This time was different though. I didn’t recognize my surroundings: a foggy glen with no discernable buildings or settlements in view. Just trees and tall grass and sloping hills as far as I could see. I rubbed my temples trying to understand my present circumstances.
Had I woken up in the middle of some kind of costumed re-enactment? LARPers during a festival? I turned around but behind me was nothing. Just more of the unintelligible landscape. Where was I?
“Hey,” I said to the man nearest me, whose battle axe had moments before been aiming to crush my skull, “what is this place?” His body remained stiff. But his eyes followed the movement of my lips. “Speak,” I said.
“Ggg-gerhard,” he trembled as he uttered it. “Wer bist du?” His arm still gripping the handle of his axe firmly above his head.
“What?” I said, realizing I had no idea what language was spoken here.
“Gerhard,” he said, more confidently this time.
I look out at the faces of the men who surrounded us. They were all a mix of anger and terror.
“I am a peaceful man!” I yelled, hopefully. “Lay down your weapons and let us commune as one!”
Immediately every sword, shield, axe, bow, and spear clattered to the cold turf beneath us. Still, none of the men moved. I looked at Gerhard. His axe had fallen an inch to the left of his foot.
“Lass mich los, Dämon,” he said, grimacing.
I felt a shiver run through my spine.
“I am no demon,” I said, somehow catching his meaning. “But I do not know how I have come to this place.” The others in his company, frozen as they were, took no comfort in this statement. Growls emanated silently from their stilled mouths. Gerhard looked at me sympathetically.
“Dann musst du ein Erzengel sein,” he said. The eyes of every man in his company widened.
“I don’t know your language,” I said. “English?” It was as though I had spoken the worst of imaginable curse words.
“Nein! Nein Englisch!” Gerhard said and spat upon the ground. “Wir werden dich töten, wo du stehst!”
I said nothing but took a step back. A moment passed.
“Gerhard, tell these men I mean them no harm.” I said. Gerhard hissed at me through gritted teeth.
“Er will dir nichts Böses”
“And tell them I want to know how I got here.”
“wie ist er hierher gekommen?”
The men all looked at each other desperately. I realized none of them could speak unless I allowed them to. “They are allowed to speak,” I said.
A cacophony arose. Men began arguing, who saw me first, where they saw me, whether or not I was an angel or a devil, whoms’t among them could decipher my devilish tongue.
“NEVERMIND!” I yelled. Everyone fell silent. “I’m hungry, take me to your nearest village. And you may re arm yourselves, but you are not to do me any harm.”
Like robots, the men obeyed. Gerhard gestured to me, and surrounded by my newly found recruits we marched through the woods.
In a clearing we found ourselves in a kind of village. Mud roofed huts and pig pens dotted the streets while women spinning yarn stared at me as I passed. I nodded in what I hopped was a respectful manner. “Setz dich hier hin” Gerhard said. I was forcibly sat on a log bench at a table with no other patrons. “Gib ihm etwas Bier.”
A wooden mug was set before me. I took a sip of a bitter ale and sighed. “This is good, thank you,” I said. Gerhard nodded gravely and went away. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | “I’ll see you in about a week, mom. Love you.” I hugged my tiny mother goodbye. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. Please be careful, okay? Watch for snakes. You know how they are as it gets colder. I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun!” She held me as tightly as she could for a moment, then let me go, her worried smile plastered on her face as it always was whenever I left.
I loaded the last of the gear into my little car, got in and drove off to go camping in a nice spot I’d found several years prior. It was a little ways away from civilization, but that was a huge part of its draw for me. I’d been camping there since I’d found it all those years ago. It was peaceful. A small river was just a few hundred yards away from the rock face I used as a shelter. The rushing water always helped calm and ground me. I wasn’t dumb, however. I still set up a tent and all, but the rocky overhang helped radiate the warmth of the fire all around me. It was pretty cozy, all things considered. Yes, I was definitely looking forward to this next week.
I got to my campsite about four hours before dusk, and hurriedly made camp. I figured I’d just sleep the first night, and go wandering tomorrow. I pulled the five cords of well-seasoned hickory wood from the car and set them up under the overhang, so they’d keep dry. I’d use one or two for the first night, and bring more firewood back later. The weather report showed no signs of rain for the next three weeks, so I figured I’d be pretty safe from the rain. Still brought the poncho, though. No sense in being unprepared, right? I set the fire, and just sat, watching the night and listening to the river. I wasn’t terribly concerned about coyotes or bobcats or mountain lions. Most of them stayed away from people, and those that would possibly approach were likely to be starved or desperate. I kept a .357 and a .30-06 with me at all times, along with a wickedly sharp hunting knife. I didn’t think bringing my bow would be of much use camping, especially in an emergency situation, so I left it at home.
After some time simply sitting and watching the fire, listening to the sounds of nature, I started dozing. I figured it was a good time to turn in. I set a couple more logs on the fire, to help keep me warm through the night, and crawled into my little tent to sleep.
I woke to the sound of a few crows fussing over something nearby, with the early morning sun starting to light up the woods. It was quite a bit colder than I was expecting, so I raised my head to the mesh window of my door flap, expecting to find one of the large, beautiful, dark-colored birds sitting on my camp chair, preening and staking his claim to a new thing.
What I saw, instead, were three people going through my things with no regard to whom it may belong to. Since they hadn’t seen or heard me, I withdrew, collected my pistol, and stepped out to confront them.
“Is any of that yours, perchance?” I made sure to speak in as loud and forceful a tone I could calmly manage. The three of them flinched and stood stock still, their backs to me. They were small; about half my height, and wrapped in what looked like cloaks and fur caps. It was a bit chilly, so the clothing made sense. I cleared my throat loudly. One of them slowly turned around, his hands raised slightly. His face was an odd bluish-gray, his nose slightly pointed, and his eyes were yellow. “Jika kancinci mawethu.” he said in a thick, raspy voice. At his words, the other two dropped what they had, raised their hands slightly, and turned around. They all looked similar. The smallest of the three took a hesitant step forward, and I whipped the barrel of my pistol towards his face. “Siyaxolisa. Sifuna nje ukutya, kwaye sicinga ukuba akukho mntu apha. Ungasenzakalisi.” I could hear some pleading in his words, even though I couldn’t understand a word of it. I shook my head, and lowered my pistol slowly. This could be bad, but I didn’t know if these were kids or not. The three relaxed visibly. I tucked the pistol into its holster on my belt. “Are you boys hungry?” The three flinched again at my voice, and I realized they probably couldn’t understand me. I nodded to myself, and rubbed my belly, then pointed at my open mouth, hoping they could understand that. The tall one perked up and said “Ukutya! Ewe.” I motioned for them to stay put, and dipped back into my tent, pulling out some of the dried fruit and jerky I’d made a couple months prior, just for this trip. It wasn’t much, but a little dried meat and fruit would be a simple thing I could give them. I emerged, holding a small bag of each. “Here you go. Some fruit and meat. It’s what I have. Sorry I can’t help more.” They flinched again, and I cocked my head to the side. What a weird reaction to my voice. I shrugged and offered them the food, and they took it gratefully.
I smiled and walked past them to the cold ash of last night’s fire. I should build it back up. It was pretty cold for early October. I laid some kindling and wood on top of the cold ash. “Time for a fire.” As I spoke these words, a small bolt of flame traveled from my right hand into the wood, and set it alight. I scrambled backwards, shocked beyond belief. “What the fuck just happened?” I started panting. The three kids jumped back as they heard the whoosh of the fire catching alight, and started to silently cry. I looked at them, wide-eyed, fear plastered across my face. “What did I just do?!”
They slowly backed away from me, clutching the food. “Wait! Stop right there! Tell me what is going on!” They stood stock still, terrified. I walked over to them, and I could hear the crying start anew. “Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. Don’t cry, please. I’m just as scared as you are.” I knelt down, so I could be on their own level. I reached out, and gently put my hands on the largest of the three’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you please tell me your name?” I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m Ivor.” I patted my chest. “Ivor.” I gently touched his other arm. “You are?” The poor thing was crying hard, obviously terrified. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the cloth I used to clean my glasses with, and gently dried his cheeks. “None of that, now. You’re safe. I promise.” I touched my chest again, and repeated my name, then touched his arm. This time he seemed to understand, and in between sniffles he said “Ahte-tan.” I smiled broadly. “Well, Ahte-tan, I’m glad to meet you.” I pointed at my mouth, and with my hand, pantomimed speaking, then touched his ear and shook my head. He shook his own, and I sighed. I sat down and gently took the bag from him, and pulled out a piece of dried apple and meat. I returned the bag and pointed at the fruit. “Apple.” I pointed at the jerky. “Beef.” I took a bite of each and smiled. “It’s okay, Ahte-tan. Eat.Uhhh… ukutya?” He perked up at his own language and took a hesitant bite of the dried apple. I noticed his teeth were all sharp, pointy and small. He spit it out, making a face, and took a bite of the meat, and his eyes got huge. I laughed and motioned for him to keep going. “It’s okay. You can go ahead and share with your brothers.” I kept eating the piece I had, and just watched them.
The wind started blowing a little harder, and I shivered. I stood up and walked back to the fire, and set another log onto it. Why was it so damn cold in Kentucky in early October? Something wasn’t right. I noticed the three hadn’t followed, so I looked back at them. They still stood where I left them. “You boys can come sit over here and keep warm, if you want.” As I spoke, they relaxed and scurried back over, huddling around the fire. I went back into my tent and retrieved my jacket, knife and the rifle. Something was definitely wrong. I didn’t know what, but these kids were definitely afraid of something. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | \[Poem\]
In a world of immortals and sleek flying cars
Which dances on clouds and weeps among stars
In this world of successful experimentation
There’s quite an odd subject of deep fascination.
​
In a museum it sits, deprived of our touch
On the wall with the prophecy spoken so much.
“The ancient one rises; by their tongue and will,
They’ll awaken this power, currently lying still!”
​
So with quavering breath and a throbbing heart
The crowd waits for their hero to finally start
I stand by what the ages have deigned to call eerie
And with mischi’vous grin I call out now…
​
“Hey Siri!” | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | The finals were beginning. The greatest magicans upon the world gathered to determine the most power of them all.
First, Grield, Lord of Flame. He incrinerated the Demon Kings army with mearly a paragraph. Thw power he wielded was unmatched in his homeland.
Next, Yauss, Master of Summoning. He brought forth Dragons, Liches, Wraiths, and finally the First Apostle of Ryos, God of War. Each one took only a sentence, barring the Apostle, who took a paragraph.
Third, Rin, Pinnacle of Healing. They healed the epidemic spread accross the world, with only a sentence, then launched into healing the kings Dementia with a paragraph.
And finally, Annul, the Stranger. They were highly peculiar, and started with a spell to summon paper and pens for all to borrow, and asked them what spells they wished for Annul to use. Upon gathering the spells, they began weaving the spell within their book, taking only 3 hours to make 20 paragraphs. This shocked everyone, none more than Grield, Yauss, and Rin, who had taken painstaking efforts of months and months to make their spells.
Upon finishing, Annul began to read the words off the page, and everyone watched closely, their eyes practically on the book itself.
It took several minutes to finish, and everyone waited with baited breath.
And the God decended. But soon the Demon King came, then the 12 Apostles, and finally the Outer King, Gelhwkdn.
But those parts were inferior to the truly impressive spell they cast with those 16 paragraphs.
The long dead kings arose, the incinerated army reformed, but no one knew the true spell they had casted.
The Strange won, but they only smiled and said one thing at the ceremony, “You know not what I casted,” and offered the trophy and title of most powerful mage to anyone who could identify the spell they had cast.
But the finalists had already read the spell, and went up one by one to make their guess.
“A portal to another world,” guessed Grield.
“Eternal protection from harm,” guessed Yauss.
But the one who guessed right was Rin.
“No one can die anymore.”
The stranger smilled, handed over their trophy, and walked away, never to be seem again. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | A standard trope in Isekai stories, if not universal, was the power fantasy. Even if the enemies were strong, so were you.
I wasn't blessed by God with unfathomable power, and lord knows I'm not smart enough to bring about an industrial revolution, but I am good a few things.
I can make up stuff on the spot.
I can run like a b*&$#.
And I can speak English.
Apparently that's all you need on Akilahara. By simply describing an event, it would come to pass, with greater detail allowing for higher specificity.
Just saying 'lightning bolt' wasn't enough- that could zap anything. Even you, if you got unlucky, which you would eventually with such shoddy spell crafting.
My go to? 'Earth swallows only my targets whole.'
I still needed to recognize my enemies, which had a number of spells to help with, but it instantly rendered them helpless.
Honorable? No. Actually, I think it would probably be a war crime.
But who cares when even a primary school vocabulary would have been enough to be a nations champion?
If only I'd been taken here alone... | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | You would expect that when you find yourself in another world, you'll be lost worse than a foreign tourist in the winding streets of an old city centre where none of the locals speak your language. If whatever gods that may exist should be on your side, you may hope that some kind of mind trickery has you understand the language as if it was your native one. Turns out, neither was the case.
One way the brain deals with overwhelming stress is by focusing on unimportant details. I wasn't thinking about what happened to get me here, and I was actively avoiding thinking about how to get home, and I definitely wasn't thinking about having left the stove on. No. The question that occupied my entire mind to the exclusion of everything else was "why do they speak English here?" It felt a little unfair.
In fact, I did find myself lost in the narrow winding streets of a foreign city. It wasn't all that different from the one I grew up in, give or, more accurately, take a few hundred years. Except, of course, it was a completely different city and the streets were winding in largely unfamiliar ways. One of the things I was studiously not thinking about were the lingering looks of the locals, and understanding snippets of their conversations didn't make me want to start. I was all wrong. Dressed wrong. Moved wrong. Tried talking to people wrong, apparently, because they wouldn't talk to me. In fact, I was so good at not thinking about it all that I somehow ended up in a dead-end street with several men blocking my way back. Long story short, this is where I found out there is magic in this world. Pretty much on the tip of my tongue, really. The spoken language wasn't my native one, no. The language of magic, on the other hand? That's a different story. Let's just say I had to unlearn some swear words pretty quickly if I didn't want bad things to happen to other people's backsides.
-------------
"Man, fire spells are impossible. The consonant clusters are going to kill me" grumbled Ian, my new classmate and friend. We've been locked up in his stuffy dorm room all afternoon practising magic. I had decided to give university another try, and this time I just might leave it with a few extra letters to my name. Ian moved his hands dramatically towards a candle.
"Erm... Let's see... Siv...no. Hang on - Swish-ka sgosh!" he exclaimed with an appropriately booming voice, but poor grammar and absolutely atrocious pronunciation. I politely waited a few seconds, even though I knew it won't take.
"It's 'svíčka'. '[Svi:ˈt͡ʃka]'. Palatalize that 'C'. Which case were you going for, anyway?" Turns out my brief stint studying linguistics at the -other- university would pay off even without being able to transcribe into IPA properly. Or not, going by the look on Ian's face. I need a different approach.
"Try saying 'switch' and lengthen that "i" and making the "v" hard, like in 'very'," I sighed. "and then put it into vocative case. The candle needs to know you're speaking to it"
"Like... 'Svichka'? It's feminine, right? The vocative is the same as nominative, right? Hang on, by which paradigma am I supposed to inflect that, then? 'Svitchko', right?"
"Right. And then there's the verb. You want to say 'shoř'..."
---------------
"I don't understand!" wailed Ian over the charred remnants of his nightstand. We managed to get him to cast the spell in the end, only for the candle to burst into violent flame. We were lucky that the nightstand was our only casualty. And it was my fault. The sentence was grammatically correct. It just wasn't situationally appropriate. It should have been obvious.
"Fucking perfective aspect," I swore in English. It didn't feel the same. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I don’t remember exactly how I ended up where I am. I might have died, I might have fallen into a black hole, I may have been sacrificed to the gods of old. But here I am, face to face with a living elf.
They scrunched up their face and said the world “translate.”
I wish I could say I responded with intelligence, or elegance. But I said the only thing that I could really think “uhhhhh okay?”
“It was a translation spell from a long gone language, It allows us both to hear each other in our best tongue.”
“But before you finished speaking the word I understood it, its English its not magical nor a dead language. Its the standard among the intergalactic human civilizations. Its just English.”
“Impossible the language died out millions of years ago, what little bots we have left are only the words we can decipher from the carvings on the old temples. It takes weeks to master even the most basic spells.”
“So what do I do just say the word fire and…” I felt my hand warm a little and in my hand, I was holding solid fire. | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | Luckily it wasn't a place that manifested anything I said on a whim. The first thing I did was establish communication with my home world. Can't make direct calls, but I can access my world's internet. I read this post actually and thought, how ironic. I felt empathy for the person who got transferred to a more "verbatim" version of this world. So I cast a spell to send him home. It was easy. "Send thee man who's every word manifest, return from the world he came. And the broken world he left behind be healed from his words inane." Hopefully the poor fellow will recover from the traumatic experience. I found that if I speak lazily with a good bit of slang interspersed through my sentences, that I could greatly reduce any slip ups. I'll post my arrival adventure at a later time. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | “I’ll see you in about a week, mom. Love you.” I hugged my tiny mother goodbye. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. Please be careful, okay? Watch for snakes. You know how they are as it gets colder. I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun!” She held me as tightly as she could for a moment, then let me go, her worried smile plastered on her face as it always was whenever I left.
I loaded the last of the gear into my little car, got in and drove off to go camping in a nice spot I’d found several years prior. It was a little ways away from civilization, but that was a huge part of its draw for me. I’d been camping there since I’d found it all those years ago. It was peaceful. A small river was just a few hundred yards away from the rock face I used as a shelter. The rushing water always helped calm and ground me. I wasn’t dumb, however. I still set up a tent and all, but the rocky overhang helped radiate the warmth of the fire all around me. It was pretty cozy, all things considered. Yes, I was definitely looking forward to this next week.
I got to my campsite about four hours before dusk, and hurriedly made camp. I figured I’d just sleep the first night, and go wandering tomorrow. I pulled the five cords of well-seasoned hickory wood from the car and set them up under the overhang, so they’d keep dry. I’d use one or two for the first night, and bring more firewood back later. The weather report showed no signs of rain for the next three weeks, so I figured I’d be pretty safe from the rain. Still brought the poncho, though. No sense in being unprepared, right? I set the fire, and just sat, watching the night and listening to the river. I wasn’t terribly concerned about coyotes or bobcats or mountain lions. Most of them stayed away from people, and those that would possibly approach were likely to be starved or desperate. I kept a .357 and a .30-06 with me at all times, along with a wickedly sharp hunting knife. I didn’t think bringing my bow would be of much use camping, especially in an emergency situation, so I left it at home.
After some time simply sitting and watching the fire, listening to the sounds of nature, I started dozing. I figured it was a good time to turn in. I set a couple more logs on the fire, to help keep me warm through the night, and crawled into my little tent to sleep.
I woke to the sound of a few crows fussing over something nearby, with the early morning sun starting to light up the woods. It was quite a bit colder than I was expecting, so I raised my head to the mesh window of my door flap, expecting to find one of the large, beautiful, dark-colored birds sitting on my camp chair, preening and staking his claim to a new thing.
What I saw, instead, were three people going through my things with no regard to whom it may belong to. Since they hadn’t seen or heard me, I withdrew, collected my pistol, and stepped out to confront them.
“Is any of that yours, perchance?” I made sure to speak in as loud and forceful a tone I could calmly manage. The three of them flinched and stood stock still, their backs to me. They were small; about half my height, and wrapped in what looked like cloaks and fur caps. It was a bit chilly, so the clothing made sense. I cleared my throat loudly. One of them slowly turned around, his hands raised slightly. His face was an odd bluish-gray, his nose slightly pointed, and his eyes were yellow. “Jika kancinci mawethu.” he said in a thick, raspy voice. At his words, the other two dropped what they had, raised their hands slightly, and turned around. They all looked similar. The smallest of the three took a hesitant step forward, and I whipped the barrel of my pistol towards his face. “Siyaxolisa. Sifuna nje ukutya, kwaye sicinga ukuba akukho mntu apha. Ungasenzakalisi.” I could hear some pleading in his words, even though I couldn’t understand a word of it. I shook my head, and lowered my pistol slowly. This could be bad, but I didn’t know if these were kids or not. The three relaxed visibly. I tucked the pistol into its holster on my belt. “Are you boys hungry?” The three flinched again at my voice, and I realized they probably couldn’t understand me. I nodded to myself, and rubbed my belly, then pointed at my open mouth, hoping they could understand that. The tall one perked up and said “Ukutya! Ewe.” I motioned for them to stay put, and dipped back into my tent, pulling out some of the dried fruit and jerky I’d made a couple months prior, just for this trip. It wasn’t much, but a little dried meat and fruit would be a simple thing I could give them. I emerged, holding a small bag of each. “Here you go. Some fruit and meat. It’s what I have. Sorry I can’t help more.” They flinched again, and I cocked my head to the side. What a weird reaction to my voice. I shrugged and offered them the food, and they took it gratefully.
I smiled and walked past them to the cold ash of last night’s fire. I should build it back up. It was pretty cold for early October. I laid some kindling and wood on top of the cold ash. “Time for a fire.” As I spoke these words, a small bolt of flame traveled from my right hand into the wood, and set it alight. I scrambled backwards, shocked beyond belief. “What the fuck just happened?” I started panting. The three kids jumped back as they heard the whoosh of the fire catching alight, and started to silently cry. I looked at them, wide-eyed, fear plastered across my face. “What did I just do?!”
They slowly backed away from me, clutching the food. “Wait! Stop right there! Tell me what is going on!” They stood stock still, terrified. I walked over to them, and I could hear the crying start anew. “Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. Don’t cry, please. I’m just as scared as you are.” I knelt down, so I could be on their own level. I reached out, and gently put my hands on the largest of the three’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you please tell me your name?” I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m Ivor.” I patted my chest. “Ivor.” I gently touched his other arm. “You are?” The poor thing was crying hard, obviously terrified. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the cloth I used to clean my glasses with, and gently dried his cheeks. “None of that, now. You’re safe. I promise.” I touched my chest again, and repeated my name, then touched his arm. This time he seemed to understand, and in between sniffles he said “Ahte-tan.” I smiled broadly. “Well, Ahte-tan, I’m glad to meet you.” I pointed at my mouth, and with my hand, pantomimed speaking, then touched his ear and shook my head. He shook his own, and I sighed. I sat down and gently took the bag from him, and pulled out a piece of dried apple and meat. I returned the bag and pointed at the fruit. “Apple.” I pointed at the jerky. “Beef.” I took a bite of each and smiled. “It’s okay, Ahte-tan. Eat.Uhhh… ukutya?” He perked up at his own language and took a hesitant bite of the dried apple. I noticed his teeth were all sharp, pointy and small. He spit it out, making a face, and took a bite of the meat, and his eyes got huge. I laughed and motioned for him to keep going. “It’s okay. You can go ahead and share with your brothers.” I kept eating the piece I had, and just watched them.
The wind started blowing a little harder, and I shivered. I stood up and walked back to the fire, and set another log onto it. Why was it so damn cold in Kentucky in early October? Something wasn’t right. I noticed the three hadn’t followed, so I looked back at them. They still stood where I left them. “You boys can come sit over here and keep warm, if you want.” As I spoke, they relaxed and scurried back over, huddling around the fire. I went back into my tent and retrieved my jacket, knife and the rifle. Something was definitely wrong. I didn’t know what, but these kids were definitely afraid of something. | [TW: depression, suicide]
Silence is of gold, but measured words are priceless.
The Demon King wanted to summon a tool for himself, to bring ruin upon the human world. He was stopped by his own tool, by a most simple magic.
"Disparais."
And he was no more. People celebrated, as they ought to be when the enemy of humankind is gone. Kings and Knights never let the not-mute alone, asking him to be their vassal, confident, pillar of strength. After all, evil had been banished by their words, and even if they didn't know how, the stranger knew spells of potency unmatched. Denied in silence, they asked to imprison the person. They earned only ire, presented unto them by a spell.
"Laissez-moi en paix."
The next day, they could not muster a word concerning the not-mute. The common people stopped calling them such, for a less awe-aspiring nickname, the walking calamity; for a being of such power is oft feared. Armies of mages gathered over the single goal of erasing them, for only greater magic can best itself. And yet, they couldn't be greater. By the time their long and verbose incantation was halfway, a feminine voice ringed.
"Partez."
And they went. But a battle still raged on in the stranger's heart.
___
Solitude fits Holly. Or so she pretended. A heart notices not the pressure until it cracks. She stumbled over to the kitchen part of the grotto she dug out and outfitted with magic; opened the magic fridge. Empty. A hilariously close description to her own being, after being ripped from her world and thrown into politics and danger.
"Putain."
The thoughtless magic system summoned a whore, and Holly quickly cancelled the spell. Even if she swinged that way, physical joy wouldn't do her any good. Beside, "Après l'effort, le réconfort", or so the idiom goes. And mechanically, she went outside to hunt game and gather herbs. She didn't care if she was under the spell or not.
"Il me faut un couteau."
A knife appeared in her hands. Lucent, sharp beyond measure. The perfect ideal of a knife. One she wishes to be in her hands- not to hunt.
A parasite thought took over, and she took a deep breath. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | A standard trope in Isekai stories, if not universal, was the power fantasy. Even if the enemies were strong, so were you.
I wasn't blessed by God with unfathomable power, and lord knows I'm not smart enough to bring about an industrial revolution, but I am good a few things.
I can make up stuff on the spot.
I can run like a b*&$#.
And I can speak English.
Apparently that's all you need on Akilahara. By simply describing an event, it would come to pass, with greater detail allowing for higher specificity.
Just saying 'lightning bolt' wasn't enough- that could zap anything. Even you, if you got unlucky, which you would eventually with such shoddy spell crafting.
My go to? 'Earth swallows only my targets whole.'
I still needed to recognize my enemies, which had a number of spells to help with, but it instantly rendered them helpless.
Honorable? No. Actually, I think it would probably be a war crime.
But who cares when even a primary school vocabulary would have been enough to be a nations champion?
If only I'd been taken here alone... | [TW: depression, suicide]
Silence is of gold, but measured words are priceless.
The Demon King wanted to summon a tool for himself, to bring ruin upon the human world. He was stopped by his own tool, by a most simple magic.
"Disparais."
And he was no more. People celebrated, as they ought to be when the enemy of humankind is gone. Kings and Knights never let the not-mute alone, asking him to be their vassal, confident, pillar of strength. After all, evil had been banished by their words, and even if they didn't know how, the stranger knew spells of potency unmatched. Denied in silence, they asked to imprison the person. They earned only ire, presented unto them by a spell.
"Laissez-moi en paix."
The next day, they could not muster a word concerning the not-mute. The common people stopped calling them such, for a less awe-aspiring nickname, the walking calamity; for a being of such power is oft feared. Armies of mages gathered over the single goal of erasing them, for only greater magic can best itself. And yet, they couldn't be greater. By the time their long and verbose incantation was halfway, a feminine voice ringed.
"Partez."
And they went. But a battle still raged on in the stranger's heart.
___
Solitude fits Holly. Or so she pretended. A heart notices not the pressure until it cracks. She stumbled over to the kitchen part of the grotto she dug out and outfitted with magic; opened the magic fridge. Empty. A hilariously close description to her own being, after being ripped from her world and thrown into politics and danger.
"Putain."
The thoughtless magic system summoned a whore, and Holly quickly cancelled the spell. Even if she swinged that way, physical joy wouldn't do her any good. Beside, "Après l'effort, le réconfort", or so the idiom goes. And mechanically, she went outside to hunt game and gather herbs. She didn't care if she was under the spell or not.
"Il me faut un couteau."
A knife appeared in her hands. Lucent, sharp beyond measure. The perfect ideal of a knife. One she wishes to be in her hands- not to hunt.
A parasite thought took over, and she took a deep breath. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | “I’ll see you in about a week, mom. Love you.” I hugged my tiny mother goodbye. “I’ll miss you, sweetheart. Please be careful, okay? Watch for snakes. You know how they are as it gets colder. I’ll see you when you get back. Have fun!” She held me as tightly as she could for a moment, then let me go, her worried smile plastered on her face as it always was whenever I left.
I loaded the last of the gear into my little car, got in and drove off to go camping in a nice spot I’d found several years prior. It was a little ways away from civilization, but that was a huge part of its draw for me. I’d been camping there since I’d found it all those years ago. It was peaceful. A small river was just a few hundred yards away from the rock face I used as a shelter. The rushing water always helped calm and ground me. I wasn’t dumb, however. I still set up a tent and all, but the rocky overhang helped radiate the warmth of the fire all around me. It was pretty cozy, all things considered. Yes, I was definitely looking forward to this next week.
I got to my campsite about four hours before dusk, and hurriedly made camp. I figured I’d just sleep the first night, and go wandering tomorrow. I pulled the five cords of well-seasoned hickory wood from the car and set them up under the overhang, so they’d keep dry. I’d use one or two for the first night, and bring more firewood back later. The weather report showed no signs of rain for the next three weeks, so I figured I’d be pretty safe from the rain. Still brought the poncho, though. No sense in being unprepared, right? I set the fire, and just sat, watching the night and listening to the river. I wasn’t terribly concerned about coyotes or bobcats or mountain lions. Most of them stayed away from people, and those that would possibly approach were likely to be starved or desperate. I kept a .357 and a .30-06 with me at all times, along with a wickedly sharp hunting knife. I didn’t think bringing my bow would be of much use camping, especially in an emergency situation, so I left it at home.
After some time simply sitting and watching the fire, listening to the sounds of nature, I started dozing. I figured it was a good time to turn in. I set a couple more logs on the fire, to help keep me warm through the night, and crawled into my little tent to sleep.
I woke to the sound of a few crows fussing over something nearby, with the early morning sun starting to light up the woods. It was quite a bit colder than I was expecting, so I raised my head to the mesh window of my door flap, expecting to find one of the large, beautiful, dark-colored birds sitting on my camp chair, preening and staking his claim to a new thing.
What I saw, instead, were three people going through my things with no regard to whom it may belong to. Since they hadn’t seen or heard me, I withdrew, collected my pistol, and stepped out to confront them.
“Is any of that yours, perchance?” I made sure to speak in as loud and forceful a tone I could calmly manage. The three of them flinched and stood stock still, their backs to me. They were small; about half my height, and wrapped in what looked like cloaks and fur caps. It was a bit chilly, so the clothing made sense. I cleared my throat loudly. One of them slowly turned around, his hands raised slightly. His face was an odd bluish-gray, his nose slightly pointed, and his eyes were yellow. “Jika kancinci mawethu.” he said in a thick, raspy voice. At his words, the other two dropped what they had, raised their hands slightly, and turned around. They all looked similar. The smallest of the three took a hesitant step forward, and I whipped the barrel of my pistol towards his face. “Siyaxolisa. Sifuna nje ukutya, kwaye sicinga ukuba akukho mntu apha. Ungasenzakalisi.” I could hear some pleading in his words, even though I couldn’t understand a word of it. I shook my head, and lowered my pistol slowly. This could be bad, but I didn’t know if these were kids or not. The three relaxed visibly. I tucked the pistol into its holster on my belt. “Are you boys hungry?” The three flinched again at my voice, and I realized they probably couldn’t understand me. I nodded to myself, and rubbed my belly, then pointed at my open mouth, hoping they could understand that. The tall one perked up and said “Ukutya! Ewe.” I motioned for them to stay put, and dipped back into my tent, pulling out some of the dried fruit and jerky I’d made a couple months prior, just for this trip. It wasn’t much, but a little dried meat and fruit would be a simple thing I could give them. I emerged, holding a small bag of each. “Here you go. Some fruit and meat. It’s what I have. Sorry I can’t help more.” They flinched again, and I cocked my head to the side. What a weird reaction to my voice. I shrugged and offered them the food, and they took it gratefully.
I smiled and walked past them to the cold ash of last night’s fire. I should build it back up. It was pretty cold for early October. I laid some kindling and wood on top of the cold ash. “Time for a fire.” As I spoke these words, a small bolt of flame traveled from my right hand into the wood, and set it alight. I scrambled backwards, shocked beyond belief. “What the fuck just happened?” I started panting. The three kids jumped back as they heard the whoosh of the fire catching alight, and started to silently cry. I looked at them, wide-eyed, fear plastered across my face. “What did I just do?!”
They slowly backed away from me, clutching the food. “Wait! Stop right there! Tell me what is going on!” They stood stock still, terrified. I walked over to them, and I could hear the crying start anew. “Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. Don’t cry, please. I’m just as scared as you are.” I knelt down, so I could be on their own level. I reached out, and gently put my hands on the largest of the three’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you. Can you please tell me your name?” I placed my hand on my chest. “I’m Ivor.” I patted my chest. “Ivor.” I gently touched his other arm. “You are?” The poor thing was crying hard, obviously terrified. I dug into my pocket and pulled out the cloth I used to clean my glasses with, and gently dried his cheeks. “None of that, now. You’re safe. I promise.” I touched my chest again, and repeated my name, then touched his arm. This time he seemed to understand, and in between sniffles he said “Ahte-tan.” I smiled broadly. “Well, Ahte-tan, I’m glad to meet you.” I pointed at my mouth, and with my hand, pantomimed speaking, then touched his ear and shook my head. He shook his own, and I sighed. I sat down and gently took the bag from him, and pulled out a piece of dried apple and meat. I returned the bag and pointed at the fruit. “Apple.” I pointed at the jerky. “Beef.” I took a bite of each and smiled. “It’s okay, Ahte-tan. Eat.Uhhh… ukutya?” He perked up at his own language and took a hesitant bite of the dried apple. I noticed his teeth were all sharp, pointy and small. He spit it out, making a face, and took a bite of the meat, and his eyes got huge. I laughed and motioned for him to keep going. “It’s okay. You can go ahead and share with your brothers.” I kept eating the piece I had, and just watched them.
The wind started blowing a little harder, and I shivered. I stood up and walked back to the fire, and set another log onto it. Why was it so damn cold in Kentucky in early October? Something wasn’t right. I noticed the three hadn’t followed, so I looked back at them. They still stood where I left them. “You boys can come sit over here and keep warm, if you want.” As I spoke, they relaxed and scurried back over, huddling around the fire. I went back into my tent and retrieved my jacket, knife and the rifle. Something was definitely wrong. I didn’t know what, but these kids were definitely afraid of something. | “STOP!” I screamed.
The men froze. Hands, clutching swords and axes, hung mid-strike, inches from my face. I crouched expecting the blows to come. After what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes and looked up, incredulous.
The scene was like a photograph. An angry horde of barbarians garbed in brown tunics and strapped leather sandals had been racing towards me just a second ago. Now they all stood like statues, motionless but for the fog steaming from their mouths in the cold. I could see in their eyes they were terrified and confused.
I stood upright, slowly. All of them were looking at me now, though none could move a muscle. My outburst had been instinctual. I didn’t know where I was or how I’d got there. As a drunk I was used to that sort of scenario. It’d been a long time since I’d lost count of how many times I’d woken up in an unfamiliar place, only to stumble my way back home by instinct alone. This time was different though. I didn’t recognize my surroundings: a foggy glen with no discernable buildings or settlements in view. Just trees and tall grass and sloping hills as far as I could see. I rubbed my temples trying to understand my present circumstances.
Had I woken up in the middle of some kind of costumed re-enactment? LARPers during a festival? I turned around but behind me was nothing. Just more of the unintelligible landscape. Where was I?
“Hey,” I said to the man nearest me, whose battle axe had moments before been aiming to crush my skull, “what is this place?” His body remained stiff. But his eyes followed the movement of my lips. “Speak,” I said.
“Ggg-gerhard,” he trembled as he uttered it. “Wer bist du?” His arm still gripping the handle of his axe firmly above his head.
“What?” I said, realizing I had no idea what language was spoken here.
“Gerhard,” he said, more confidently this time.
I look out at the faces of the men who surrounded us. They were all a mix of anger and terror.
“I am a peaceful man!” I yelled, hopefully. “Lay down your weapons and let us commune as one!”
Immediately every sword, shield, axe, bow, and spear clattered to the cold turf beneath us. Still, none of the men moved. I looked at Gerhard. His axe had fallen an inch to the left of his foot.
“Lass mich los, Dämon,” he said, grimacing.
I felt a shiver run through my spine.
“I am no demon,” I said, somehow catching his meaning. “But I do not know how I have come to this place.” The others in his company, frozen as they were, took no comfort in this statement. Growls emanated silently from their stilled mouths. Gerhard looked at me sympathetically.
“Dann musst du ein Erzengel sein,” he said. The eyes of every man in his company widened.
“I don’t know your language,” I said. “English?” It was as though I had spoken the worst of imaginable curse words.
“Nein! Nein Englisch!” Gerhard said and spat upon the ground. “Wir werden dich töten, wo du stehst!”
I said nothing but took a step back. A moment passed.
“Gerhard, tell these men I mean them no harm.” I said. Gerhard hissed at me through gritted teeth.
“Er will dir nichts Böses”
“And tell them I want to know how I got here.”
“wie ist er hierher gekommen?”
The men all looked at each other desperately. I realized none of them could speak unless I allowed them to. “They are allowed to speak,” I said.
A cacophony arose. Men began arguing, who saw me first, where they saw me, whether or not I was an angel or a devil, whoms’t among them could decipher my devilish tongue.
“NEVERMIND!” I yelled. Everyone fell silent. “I’m hungry, take me to your nearest village. And you may re arm yourselves, but you are not to do me any harm.”
Like robots, the men obeyed. Gerhard gestured to me, and surrounded by my newly found recruits we marched through the woods.
In a clearing we found ourselves in a kind of village. Mud roofed huts and pig pens dotted the streets while women spinning yarn stared at me as I passed. I nodded in what I hopped was a respectful manner. “Setz dich hier hin” Gerhard said. I was forcibly sat on a log bench at a table with no other patrons. “Gib ihm etwas Bier.”
A wooden mug was set before me. I took a sip of a bitter ale and sighed. “This is good, thank you,” I said. Gerhard nodded gravely and went away. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | The finals were beginning. The greatest magicans upon the world gathered to determine the most power of them all.
First, Grield, Lord of Flame. He incrinerated the Demon Kings army with mearly a paragraph. Thw power he wielded was unmatched in his homeland.
Next, Yauss, Master of Summoning. He brought forth Dragons, Liches, Wraiths, and finally the First Apostle of Ryos, God of War. Each one took only a sentence, barring the Apostle, who took a paragraph.
Third, Rin, Pinnacle of Healing. They healed the epidemic spread accross the world, with only a sentence, then launched into healing the kings Dementia with a paragraph.
And finally, Annul, the Stranger. They were highly peculiar, and started with a spell to summon paper and pens for all to borrow, and asked them what spells they wished for Annul to use. Upon gathering the spells, they began weaving the spell within their book, taking only 3 hours to make 20 paragraphs. This shocked everyone, none more than Grield, Yauss, and Rin, who had taken painstaking efforts of months and months to make their spells.
Upon finishing, Annul began to read the words off the page, and everyone watched closely, their eyes practically on the book itself.
It took several minutes to finish, and everyone waited with baited breath.
And the God decended. But soon the Demon King came, then the 12 Apostles, and finally the Outer King, Gelhwkdn.
But those parts were inferior to the truly impressive spell they cast with those 16 paragraphs.
The long dead kings arose, the incinerated army reformed, but no one knew the true spell they had casted.
The Strange won, but they only smiled and said one thing at the ceremony, “You know not what I casted,” and offered the trophy and title of most powerful mage to anyone who could identify the spell they had cast.
But the finalists had already read the spell, and went up one by one to make their guess.
“A portal to another world,” guessed Grield.
“Eternal protection from harm,” guessed Yauss.
But the one who guessed right was Rin.
“No one can die anymore.”
The stranger smilled, handed over their trophy, and walked away, never to be seem again. | \[Poem\]
In a world of immortals and sleek flying cars
Which dances on clouds and weeps among stars
In this world of successful experimentation
There’s quite an odd subject of deep fascination.
​
In a museum it sits, deprived of our touch
On the wall with the prophecy spoken so much.
“The ancient one rises; by their tongue and will,
They’ll awaken this power, currently lying still!”
​
So with quavering breath and a throbbing heart
The crowd waits for their hero to finally start
I stand by what the ages have deigned to call eerie
And with mischi’vous grin I call out now…
​
“Hey Siri!” | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | A standard trope in Isekai stories, if not universal, was the power fantasy. Even if the enemies were strong, so were you.
I wasn't blessed by God with unfathomable power, and lord knows I'm not smart enough to bring about an industrial revolution, but I am good a few things.
I can make up stuff on the spot.
I can run like a b*&$#.
And I can speak English.
Apparently that's all you need on Akilahara. By simply describing an event, it would come to pass, with greater detail allowing for higher specificity.
Just saying 'lightning bolt' wasn't enough- that could zap anything. Even you, if you got unlucky, which you would eventually with such shoddy spell crafting.
My go to? 'Earth swallows only my targets whole.'
I still needed to recognize my enemies, which had a number of spells to help with, but it instantly rendered them helpless.
Honorable? No. Actually, I think it would probably be a war crime.
But who cares when even a primary school vocabulary would have been enough to be a nations champion?
If only I'd been taken here alone... | \[Poem\]
In a world of immortals and sleek flying cars
Which dances on clouds and weeps among stars
In this world of successful experimentation
There’s quite an odd subject of deep fascination.
​
In a museum it sits, deprived of our touch
On the wall with the prophecy spoken so much.
“The ancient one rises; by their tongue and will,
They’ll awaken this power, currently lying still!”
​
So with quavering breath and a throbbing heart
The crowd waits for their hero to finally start
I stand by what the ages have deigned to call eerie
And with mischi’vous grin I call out now…
​
“Hey Siri!” | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | A standard trope in Isekai stories, if not universal, was the power fantasy. Even if the enemies were strong, so were you.
I wasn't blessed by God with unfathomable power, and lord knows I'm not smart enough to bring about an industrial revolution, but I am good a few things.
I can make up stuff on the spot.
I can run like a b*&$#.
And I can speak English.
Apparently that's all you need on Akilahara. By simply describing an event, it would come to pass, with greater detail allowing for higher specificity.
Just saying 'lightning bolt' wasn't enough- that could zap anything. Even you, if you got unlucky, which you would eventually with such shoddy spell crafting.
My go to? 'Earth swallows only my targets whole.'
I still needed to recognize my enemies, which had a number of spells to help with, but it instantly rendered them helpless.
Honorable? No. Actually, I think it would probably be a war crime.
But who cares when even a primary school vocabulary would have been enough to be a nations champion?
If only I'd been taken here alone... | The finals were beginning. The greatest magicans upon the world gathered to determine the most power of them all.
First, Grield, Lord of Flame. He incrinerated the Demon Kings army with mearly a paragraph. Thw power he wielded was unmatched in his homeland.
Next, Yauss, Master of Summoning. He brought forth Dragons, Liches, Wraiths, and finally the First Apostle of Ryos, God of War. Each one took only a sentence, barring the Apostle, who took a paragraph.
Third, Rin, Pinnacle of Healing. They healed the epidemic spread accross the world, with only a sentence, then launched into healing the kings Dementia with a paragraph.
And finally, Annul, the Stranger. They were highly peculiar, and started with a spell to summon paper and pens for all to borrow, and asked them what spells they wished for Annul to use. Upon gathering the spells, they began weaving the spell within their book, taking only 3 hours to make 20 paragraphs. This shocked everyone, none more than Grield, Yauss, and Rin, who had taken painstaking efforts of months and months to make their spells.
Upon finishing, Annul began to read the words off the page, and everyone watched closely, their eyes practically on the book itself.
It took several minutes to finish, and everyone waited with baited breath.
And the God decended. But soon the Demon King came, then the 12 Apostles, and finally the Outer King, Gelhwkdn.
But those parts were inferior to the truly impressive spell they cast with those 16 paragraphs.
The long dead kings arose, the incinerated army reformed, but no one knew the true spell they had casted.
The Strange won, but they only smiled and said one thing at the ceremony, “You know not what I casted,” and offered the trophy and title of most powerful mage to anyone who could identify the spell they had cast.
But the finalists had already read the spell, and went up one by one to make their guess.
“A portal to another world,” guessed Grield.
“Eternal protection from harm,” guessed Yauss.
But the one who guessed right was Rin.
“No one can die anymore.”
The stranger smilled, handed over their trophy, and walked away, never to be seem again. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | You would expect that when you find yourself in another world, you'll be lost worse than a foreign tourist in the winding streets of an old city centre where none of the locals speak your language. If whatever gods that may exist should be on your side, you may hope that some kind of mind trickery has you understand the language as if it was your native one. Turns out, neither was the case.
One way the brain deals with overwhelming stress is by focusing on unimportant details. I wasn't thinking about what happened to get me here, and I was actively avoiding thinking about how to get home, and I definitely wasn't thinking about having left the stove on. No. The question that occupied my entire mind to the exclusion of everything else was "why do they speak English here?" It felt a little unfair.
In fact, I did find myself lost in the narrow winding streets of a foreign city. It wasn't all that different from the one I grew up in, give or, more accurately, take a few hundred years. Except, of course, it was a completely different city and the streets were winding in largely unfamiliar ways. One of the things I was studiously not thinking about were the lingering looks of the locals, and understanding snippets of their conversations didn't make me want to start. I was all wrong. Dressed wrong. Moved wrong. Tried talking to people wrong, apparently, because they wouldn't talk to me. In fact, I was so good at not thinking about it all that I somehow ended up in a dead-end street with several men blocking my way back. Long story short, this is where I found out there is magic in this world. Pretty much on the tip of my tongue, really. The spoken language wasn't my native one, no. The language of magic, on the other hand? That's a different story. Let's just say I had to unlearn some swear words pretty quickly if I didn't want bad things to happen to other people's backsides.
-------------
"Man, fire spells are impossible. The consonant clusters are going to kill me" grumbled Ian, my new classmate and friend. We've been locked up in his stuffy dorm room all afternoon practising magic. I had decided to give university another try, and this time I just might leave it with a few extra letters to my name. Ian moved his hands dramatically towards a candle.
"Erm... Let's see... Siv...no. Hang on - Swish-ka sgosh!" he exclaimed with an appropriately booming voice, but poor grammar and absolutely atrocious pronunciation. I politely waited a few seconds, even though I knew it won't take.
"It's 'svíčka'. '[Svi:ˈt͡ʃka]'. Palatalize that 'C'. Which case were you going for, anyway?" Turns out my brief stint studying linguistics at the -other- university would pay off even without being able to transcribe into IPA properly. Or not, going by the look on Ian's face. I need a different approach.
"Try saying 'switch' and lengthen that "i" and making the "v" hard, like in 'very'," I sighed. "and then put it into vocative case. The candle needs to know you're speaking to it"
"Like... 'Svichka'? It's feminine, right? The vocative is the same as nominative, right? Hang on, by which paradigma am I supposed to inflect that, then? 'Svitchko', right?"
"Right. And then there's the verb. You want to say 'shoř'..."
---------------
"I don't understand!" wailed Ian over the charred remnants of his nightstand. We managed to get him to cast the spell in the end, only for the candle to burst into violent flame. We were lucky that the nightstand was our only casualty. And it was my fault. The sentence was grammatically correct. It just wasn't situationally appropriate. It should have been obvious.
"Fucking perfective aspect," I swore in English. It didn't feel the same. | It's a few days since I got here. I don't know where I am, nor I care. All I know is this place is pullulant with magic. Many wizards have studied magic and many have died in the intent of creating a system to use this magic safely and with great gain for the community.
However, I woke up in a cavern where, written in the stone, there were the rules of said magic. They quikly took me out of there since if you use the wrong word many may die. The time I looked at the walls was enough to let me grasp some informations.
Later, when they kept me to investigate how I got there, I wan't willing to reveal anything.
"Andate via" I said in my native lenguage. The guards opened the door and got away, as I ordered them.
"Io volo" I added right after and the gravity stopped bounding me to the ground. I get away and go back to the cavern.
"Voi non mi vedete" as I enter the cave, so everyone ignores me. I quikly finish reading the content of the walls and exit the cave.
The few rules in the cave says the magic is absolute and can change the reality, however it doesn't last more than an hour if I don't specify so. I also learned talking to the people that the magic is bound to the caster: higher his will, stronger the spell.
I get to work. I use some lesser words to make my way trough the ranks of magic, never revealing anyone my secret. In a few weeks I'm the king's wizard.
Well, until this pretty redhead comes to talk with my king, openly asking for my presence to be required. She comes in the throne room and glare at me with ice-cold azure eyes.
I'm already charmed and thus, I don't thrust her. I tell this to my king and she replies quite uncomfortable:
"My beloved king, there is no need to be scared of me, I am Elisa from the kingdom of Roma, I'm the director of the most prestigious magic school in my kingdom and when I heard of such a prficient wizard I had to come and visit this kingdom to met him. - the king opened his mouth to reply, but Elisa already knew what was coming and started talking again - Obviusly I have something to talk with your majesty, business, to be precise. The kind wich could lead to benefit for both of us."
The king looked at me and I knew what to do, I asked to her: "Elisa, dimmi la verità!"
"I'm not lying your majesty, I could never." I thrusted her, but I kept asking: "Why are you truly here?"
She smirked at me before answering: "To show you the true power of this magic. - than she pointed a finger to me - Palla di fuoco!"
From her finger a ball of fire generate out of nowhere and quikly after it was fired twards me.
"Dissolviti." The fireball reduces itself to a small black smoke cloud midair.
"Now is my turn to show the power of this magic..."
I'm utterly pissed to be challenged in such a pitful way. No big proclamtion, no official battleground, no nothing.
"Onda d'urto." A powerful blow of wind pushes Elisa away, making her fly back. I look to my king, he's about to say something, but I'm the one smirking this time.
"Silenzio. Stai fermo." He's still as stone, alive, but stopped as a paused frame.
I walk twards Elisa. The witch was already back on her feet. But my will to fight was estinguished. I just wanted to speak a little more in my lenguage.
"FULMINE!" She screams, and a lightning comes to me.
"Devia" I redirect it to the ground with a hand.
"DARDO DI FUOCO"
"Blocca"
"FIOTTO ACIDO"
"Neutralizza"
"MASSO VOLANTE"
"Devia"
Elisa starts to breath heavily after I countered most of her elemental projectiles. I never stopped walking twards her and now I can look at her, with those meesy hair. A great dress showing she's a mage, but I knew she didn't spoke my lengauge.
"You are just another pitful wizard. You never knew Italian." I look in her cold eyes.
"I hate all of you, so called wizards" I give her a caress on the cheek.
"You belive you know magic." My hand goes down, to her neck.
"But you just remember me a lenguage..." I grab her by the neck.
"I can no longer speak" My eyes are wrathful, my veins are twitching.
"Soffoca."
Her muscles stop keeping her on her feets. The body turning blue. Her eyes pleading, become glassy.
I open my hand and she drops on the floor.
​
**POST SCRIPTUM**
As the story may suggest, my first lenguage isn't english, nor I have the proven ability to correctly write in English, I haven't done any check if my text is correct becasue, well, I already feel insicure enough.
Also this is my first submission, just for fun and to procastinate other stuff :\[\]
If you arrived up to here, well done, thanks for reading and hope you enjoied \^\^ | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I don’t remember exactly how I ended up where I am. I might have died, I might have fallen into a black hole, I may have been sacrificed to the gods of old. But here I am, face to face with a living elf.
They scrunched up their face and said the world “translate.”
I wish I could say I responded with intelligence, or elegance. But I said the only thing that I could really think “uhhhhh okay?”
“It was a translation spell from a long gone language, It allows us both to hear each other in our best tongue.”
“But before you finished speaking the word I understood it, its English its not magical nor a dead language. Its the standard among the intergalactic human civilizations. Its just English.”
“Impossible the language died out millions of years ago, what little bots we have left are only the words we can decipher from the carvings on the old temples. It takes weeks to master even the most basic spells.”
“So what do I do just say the word fire and…” I felt my hand warm a little and in my hand, I was holding solid fire. | It's a few days since I got here. I don't know where I am, nor I care. All I know is this place is pullulant with magic. Many wizards have studied magic and many have died in the intent of creating a system to use this magic safely and with great gain for the community.
However, I woke up in a cavern where, written in the stone, there were the rules of said magic. They quikly took me out of there since if you use the wrong word many may die. The time I looked at the walls was enough to let me grasp some informations.
Later, when they kept me to investigate how I got there, I wan't willing to reveal anything.
"Andate via" I said in my native lenguage. The guards opened the door and got away, as I ordered them.
"Io volo" I added right after and the gravity stopped bounding me to the ground. I get away and go back to the cavern.
"Voi non mi vedete" as I enter the cave, so everyone ignores me. I quikly finish reading the content of the walls and exit the cave.
The few rules in the cave says the magic is absolute and can change the reality, however it doesn't last more than an hour if I don't specify so. I also learned talking to the people that the magic is bound to the caster: higher his will, stronger the spell.
I get to work. I use some lesser words to make my way trough the ranks of magic, never revealing anyone my secret. In a few weeks I'm the king's wizard.
Well, until this pretty redhead comes to talk with my king, openly asking for my presence to be required. She comes in the throne room and glare at me with ice-cold azure eyes.
I'm already charmed and thus, I don't thrust her. I tell this to my king and she replies quite uncomfortable:
"My beloved king, there is no need to be scared of me, I am Elisa from the kingdom of Roma, I'm the director of the most prestigious magic school in my kingdom and when I heard of such a prficient wizard I had to come and visit this kingdom to met him. - the king opened his mouth to reply, but Elisa already knew what was coming and started talking again - Obviusly I have something to talk with your majesty, business, to be precise. The kind wich could lead to benefit for both of us."
The king looked at me and I knew what to do, I asked to her: "Elisa, dimmi la verità!"
"I'm not lying your majesty, I could never." I thrusted her, but I kept asking: "Why are you truly here?"
She smirked at me before answering: "To show you the true power of this magic. - than she pointed a finger to me - Palla di fuoco!"
From her finger a ball of fire generate out of nowhere and quikly after it was fired twards me.
"Dissolviti." The fireball reduces itself to a small black smoke cloud midair.
"Now is my turn to show the power of this magic..."
I'm utterly pissed to be challenged in such a pitful way. No big proclamtion, no official battleground, no nothing.
"Onda d'urto." A powerful blow of wind pushes Elisa away, making her fly back. I look to my king, he's about to say something, but I'm the one smirking this time.
"Silenzio. Stai fermo." He's still as stone, alive, but stopped as a paused frame.
I walk twards Elisa. The witch was already back on her feet. But my will to fight was estinguished. I just wanted to speak a little more in my lenguage.
"FULMINE!" She screams, and a lightning comes to me.
"Devia" I redirect it to the ground with a hand.
"DARDO DI FUOCO"
"Blocca"
"FIOTTO ACIDO"
"Neutralizza"
"MASSO VOLANTE"
"Devia"
Elisa starts to breath heavily after I countered most of her elemental projectiles. I never stopped walking twards her and now I can look at her, with those meesy hair. A great dress showing she's a mage, but I knew she didn't spoke my lengauge.
"You are just another pitful wizard. You never knew Italian." I look in her cold eyes.
"I hate all of you, so called wizards" I give her a caress on the cheek.
"You belive you know magic." My hand goes down, to her neck.
"But you just remember me a lenguage..." I grab her by the neck.
"I can no longer speak" My eyes are wrathful, my veins are twitching.
"Soffoca."
Her muscles stop keeping her on her feets. The body turning blue. Her eyes pleading, become glassy.
I open my hand and she drops on the floor.
​
**POST SCRIPTUM**
As the story may suggest, my first lenguage isn't english, nor I have the proven ability to correctly write in English, I haven't done any check if my text is correct becasue, well, I already feel insicure enough.
Also this is my first submission, just for fun and to procastinate other stuff :\[\]
If you arrived up to here, well done, thanks for reading and hope you enjoied \^\^ | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | It's a few days since I got here. I don't know where I am, nor I care. All I know is this place is pullulant with magic. Many wizards have studied magic and many have died in the intent of creating a system to use this magic safely and with great gain for the community.
However, I woke up in a cavern where, written in the stone, there were the rules of said magic. They quikly took me out of there since if you use the wrong word many may die. The time I looked at the walls was enough to let me grasp some informations.
Later, when they kept me to investigate how I got there, I wan't willing to reveal anything.
"Andate via" I said in my native lenguage. The guards opened the door and got away, as I ordered them.
"Io volo" I added right after and the gravity stopped bounding me to the ground. I get away and go back to the cavern.
"Voi non mi vedete" as I enter the cave, so everyone ignores me. I quikly finish reading the content of the walls and exit the cave.
The few rules in the cave says the magic is absolute and can change the reality, however it doesn't last more than an hour if I don't specify so. I also learned talking to the people that the magic is bound to the caster: higher his will, stronger the spell.
I get to work. I use some lesser words to make my way trough the ranks of magic, never revealing anyone my secret. In a few weeks I'm the king's wizard.
Well, until this pretty redhead comes to talk with my king, openly asking for my presence to be required. She comes in the throne room and glare at me with ice-cold azure eyes.
I'm already charmed and thus, I don't thrust her. I tell this to my king and she replies quite uncomfortable:
"My beloved king, there is no need to be scared of me, I am Elisa from the kingdom of Roma, I'm the director of the most prestigious magic school in my kingdom and when I heard of such a prficient wizard I had to come and visit this kingdom to met him. - the king opened his mouth to reply, but Elisa already knew what was coming and started talking again - Obviusly I have something to talk with your majesty, business, to be precise. The kind wich could lead to benefit for both of us."
The king looked at me and I knew what to do, I asked to her: "Elisa, dimmi la verità!"
"I'm not lying your majesty, I could never." I thrusted her, but I kept asking: "Why are you truly here?"
She smirked at me before answering: "To show you the true power of this magic. - than she pointed a finger to me - Palla di fuoco!"
From her finger a ball of fire generate out of nowhere and quikly after it was fired twards me.
"Dissolviti." The fireball reduces itself to a small black smoke cloud midair.
"Now is my turn to show the power of this magic..."
I'm utterly pissed to be challenged in such a pitful way. No big proclamtion, no official battleground, no nothing.
"Onda d'urto." A powerful blow of wind pushes Elisa away, making her fly back. I look to my king, he's about to say something, but I'm the one smirking this time.
"Silenzio. Stai fermo." He's still as stone, alive, but stopped as a paused frame.
I walk twards Elisa. The witch was already back on her feet. But my will to fight was estinguished. I just wanted to speak a little more in my lenguage.
"FULMINE!" She screams, and a lightning comes to me.
"Devia" I redirect it to the ground with a hand.
"DARDO DI FUOCO"
"Blocca"
"FIOTTO ACIDO"
"Neutralizza"
"MASSO VOLANTE"
"Devia"
Elisa starts to breath heavily after I countered most of her elemental projectiles. I never stopped walking twards her and now I can look at her, with those meesy hair. A great dress showing she's a mage, but I knew she didn't spoke my lengauge.
"You are just another pitful wizard. You never knew Italian." I look in her cold eyes.
"I hate all of you, so called wizards" I give her a caress on the cheek.
"You belive you know magic." My hand goes down, to her neck.
"But you just remember me a lenguage..." I grab her by the neck.
"I can no longer speak" My eyes are wrathful, my veins are twitching.
"Soffoca."
Her muscles stop keeping her on her feets. The body turning blue. Her eyes pleading, become glassy.
I open my hand and she drops on the floor.
​
**POST SCRIPTUM**
As the story may suggest, my first lenguage isn't english, nor I have the proven ability to correctly write in English, I haven't done any check if my text is correct becasue, well, I already feel insicure enough.
Also this is my first submission, just for fun and to procastinate other stuff :\[\]
If you arrived up to here, well done, thanks for reading and hope you enjoied \^\^ | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I don’t remember exactly how I ended up where I am. I might have died, I might have fallen into a black hole, I may have been sacrificed to the gods of old. But here I am, face to face with a living elf.
They scrunched up their face and said the world “translate.”
I wish I could say I responded with intelligence, or elegance. But I said the only thing that I could really think “uhhhhh okay?”
“It was a translation spell from a long gone language, It allows us both to hear each other in our best tongue.”
“But before you finished speaking the word I understood it, its English its not magical nor a dead language. Its the standard among the intergalactic human civilizations. Its just English.”
“Impossible the language died out millions of years ago, what little bots we have left are only the words we can decipher from the carvings on the old temples. It takes weeks to master even the most basic spells.”
“So what do I do just say the word fire and…” I felt my hand warm a little and in my hand, I was holding solid fire. | You'd think that someone who's spoken Lingua Thaumagica their entire life would not have to take a mandatory intro class their first semester at the academy. You'd be wrong.
"It's a prerequisite for your program," the registrar said. "Nothing I can do."
"Can't you get me into a more advanced level, at least?"
"I would, but given your experience with it is conversational, not academic, the recommendation is to take the class to refine your language so as to be sure you're prepared for the intensity of higher-level courses."
Refine my language. What bullshit. I was majoring in linguistics, for god's sake. But hey, I needed the credits, and maybe it would boost my GPA enough to make it onto the dean's list. After all, it would be an easy A, right?
Oh, how the universe seems to enjoy proving me wrong.
My grammar was flawless. I was stringing together complex sentences while my classmates struggled with simple verb tenses. My spells never spontaneously broke down due to incorrect conjugation or fired off too early because of syntax errors. No, the problem was pronunciation, because according to Professor Caeiro, mine was the worst he'd ever heard.
"Cӕsen." Caeiro's lips pulled back into an honest-to-god sneer. "Rhymes with season. This can be used to stop a spell-in-progress. Allow me to demonstrate. Phoebemanus hevenvers."
Obediently, a pulsing ball of light rose from his outstretched palm into the air. Higher and higher it rose. The professor waited until it was mere inches from the ceiling, then barked, "Cӕsen!" The light collapsed in on itself until it was nothing more than a spark, which floated back down to his hand, then vanished.
"Everybody, choose a partner and try it with different spells you know." Before I could even turn to look at my classmates, Caeiro stopped me. "Not you, Enne. Show me how you say it in your... *community*."
*Your world,* he means. *The one you came from, where your language does nothing at all.*
Spine stiffening, I watched him scrunch up his face to inch his glasses back up his nose, then cross his arms and wait. I sighed. "Light spell, or another spell?"
"Preferably the same one, so as better to compare pronunciation."
I nodded, trying not to roll my eyes. If it was comparison he wanted, comparison was what he was going to get. "Phōbeimanos heofanver."
The professor's orb had been perfectly spherical pure white light, drifting about like a will-o-the-wisp through the air. My light was rougher around the edges, more like a fireball. It didn't float so much as rocket up to the ceiling.
"Fuck!" My heart leapt into my throat. "Kaisen!"
My fireball fell back into my hand. It now looked like photos of the surface of the sun, all orange and mottled. It collapsed into itself, leaving nothing behind.
The whole class was staring at me. I looked back to Professor Caeiro, who was now massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation.
"If you absolutely must use profanity, at least use Thaumagic expletives," he said. Then, after a long-suffering sigh, he muttered something about vowel shift and Germanic influence, then: "I owe Dr. Dockray twenty dollars."
"What, did I just disprove your thesis or something?"
He just shook his head.
I knew I shouldn't smirk. I tried not to smirk. I'm pretty sure I was smirking. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | You'd think that someone who's spoken Lingua Thaumagica their entire life would not have to take a mandatory intro class their first semester at the academy. You'd be wrong.
"It's a prerequisite for your program," the registrar said. "Nothing I can do."
"Can't you get me into a more advanced level, at least?"
"I would, but given your experience with it is conversational, not academic, the recommendation is to take the class to refine your language so as to be sure you're prepared for the intensity of higher-level courses."
Refine my language. What bullshit. I was majoring in linguistics, for god's sake. But hey, I needed the credits, and maybe it would boost my GPA enough to make it onto the dean's list. After all, it would be an easy A, right?
Oh, how the universe seems to enjoy proving me wrong.
My grammar was flawless. I was stringing together complex sentences while my classmates struggled with simple verb tenses. My spells never spontaneously broke down due to incorrect conjugation or fired off too early because of syntax errors. No, the problem was pronunciation, because according to Professor Caeiro, mine was the worst he'd ever heard.
"Cӕsen." Caeiro's lips pulled back into an honest-to-god sneer. "Rhymes with season. This can be used to stop a spell-in-progress. Allow me to demonstrate. Phoebemanus hevenvers."
Obediently, a pulsing ball of light rose from his outstretched palm into the air. Higher and higher it rose. The professor waited until it was mere inches from the ceiling, then barked, "Cӕsen!" The light collapsed in on itself until it was nothing more than a spark, which floated back down to his hand, then vanished.
"Everybody, choose a partner and try it with different spells you know." Before I could even turn to look at my classmates, Caeiro stopped me. "Not you, Enne. Show me how you say it in your... *community*."
*Your world,* he means. *The one you came from, where your language does nothing at all.*
Spine stiffening, I watched him scrunch up his face to inch his glasses back up his nose, then cross his arms and wait. I sighed. "Light spell, or another spell?"
"Preferably the same one, so as better to compare pronunciation."
I nodded, trying not to roll my eyes. If it was comparison he wanted, comparison was what he was going to get. "Phōbeimanos heofanver."
The professor's orb had been perfectly spherical pure white light, drifting about like a will-o-the-wisp through the air. My light was rougher around the edges, more like a fireball. It didn't float so much as rocket up to the ceiling.
"Fuck!" My heart leapt into my throat. "Kaisen!"
My fireball fell back into my hand. It now looked like photos of the surface of the sun, all orange and mottled. It collapsed into itself, leaving nothing behind.
The whole class was staring at me. I looked back to Professor Caeiro, who was now massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation.
"If you absolutely must use profanity, at least use Thaumagic expletives," he said. Then, after a long-suffering sigh, he muttered something about vowel shift and Germanic influence, then: "I owe Dr. Dockray twenty dollars."
"What, did I just disprove your thesis or something?"
He just shook his head.
I knew I shouldn't smirk. I tried not to smirk. I'm pretty sure I was smirking. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I don’t remember exactly how I ended up where I am. I might have died, I might have fallen into a black hole, I may have been sacrificed to the gods of old. But here I am, face to face with a living elf.
They scrunched up their face and said the world “translate.”
I wish I could say I responded with intelligence, or elegance. But I said the only thing that I could really think “uhhhhh okay?”
“It was a translation spell from a long gone language, It allows us both to hear each other in our best tongue.”
“But before you finished speaking the word I understood it, its English its not magical nor a dead language. Its the standard among the intergalactic human civilizations. Its just English.”
“Impossible the language died out millions of years ago, what little bots we have left are only the words we can decipher from the carvings on the old temples. It takes weeks to master even the most basic spells.”
“So what do I do just say the word fire and…” I felt my hand warm a little and in my hand, I was holding solid fire. | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
​
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
​
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
​
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
​
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | I appear in the middle of a forest. I have never been here before but there is something strange about it. Something mysterious. I can't quite place it, but dare I say that it might be enchanted? Something about the trees and the colors. The way the vines fall around, and the way the animals stare. It certainly doesn't look like anything I have ever seen besides in a movie.
I walk around for a while, trying to find something. Anything. I don't even know what it is, but I guess any form of life or civilization. I don't even remember how I got here, or what I was doing before I showed up. Maybe I took a bunch of shrooms? I look around. Maybe I am still on shrooms.
I sigh and mumble to myself, "I wish I could just fly above these trees to see where I was going."
I could not have been prepared for what happened. I should have been, I am the one that said it after-all. But suddenly I was floating over the treeline. My heart was racing, I feel like that time I watched Paranormal Activity 2. That movie really got my heart racing with those jumpscares.
I finally adjust and calm down. Once I do I look around and can see what feels like a village. I try to go over there. I look like an idiot waving my arms and legs around in midair, as if trying to swim through the sky, but I am stuck in one place.
After a few moments. "I wish I could fly to that village?"
And just like that I am speeding through the sky and land in the middle of their tribe.
They all look at me in shock, and speak in some alien language. They are also green and have weird giant heads. I guess I am not on Earth, pretty scary but at least that answers that mystery (unless of course I am still on shrooms). They try talking to me but I cannot understand at all. But what I do understand is that they start bowing. Oh no, they think I am a god. I guess it makes sense considering they just saw me fly in, but it sure feels unethical.
I try to explain, "No, I'm sorry, I am not a god, I am just some guy. There is no need to bow. It's not like I can magically make food appear..."
And then I realize that I can make food appear. I might not be a god, but there is no reason I can't help these people.
"I wish I had enough food for this tribe to last a lifetime!"
And just like magic, mountains of food appear. The tribe celebrates and thanks me with more bowing. Damn, being god isn't so bad at all. It's actually pretty easy. What else can I do to help out? I am chilly in the cold of the forest. I look up at the sky but cannot see a sun. No reason we should all be uncomfortable if I can control it.
"I wish the weather was 2 degrees warmer."
And suddenly I am just a bit more comfortable. I look around to the village with a smile, only to watch all of them screaming in horror as they all melt away. I guess they are very sensitive to weather. Damn, I should have spend less time watching Paranormal Activity 2 and more time watching Bruce Almighty. Magic is a fickle bitch. | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
​
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
​
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
​
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
​
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | ''So you're telling me Goudbergen literally summons mountains of gold?'' I ask in wonder at the mage, pointing at the specific spell in the book. Outside I hear a loud crashing and what sounds like tons of metal smashing into the valley just outside the cabin.
''If you're not careful you'll crash the entire gold value and the value of our coins.'' he says with a reprimanding tone.
''Oops, I know, sorry. It's just natural to me I don't even think about it.'' I start blushing at my blunder.
''No worries, you'll be a great help to further my studies, but do take this crystal, it's stops magic from happening if you hold it. We'll start with the simpler spells. Like for example this one.'' He points at the book, a spell for turning an apple into a lime. ''How do I pronounce that exactly?''
''Limoeneer I guess, it's like the fruit but made into a verb almost. Not quite grammatically correct but I can work with it.'' The apple turns into a lime as if it's the most normal thing in the world. I begin to wonder of I could maybe make up my own spells, beyond what the book says. ''You're lucky it's in my accent too, if it was a Holland accent I'd be lost. Fortunately Flemish works just fine.''
''Leemouneir.'' The mage says, pointing at a new apple. But nothing happens.
I grab the crystal before correcting him ''No, it's 'Limoeneer' you're close, but not quite. Listen carefully, 'Li-moen-eer', you can do it.''
He sighs, frowns and tries again. ''Limoener.'' But again nothing happens. ''It sure is no easy language to learn.''
''No indeed, I'll give you that. But with enough practice you'll get it easily.'' I try to give him an encouraging smile. ''It's probably best if I teach you some of the nuances of the language before we try to apply it to actual spells. You got more of those crystals laying around? It would help to not accidentally turn the classroom or this cabin into a million cockroaches or something.''
''Are you seriously suggesting I go back to school to learn to talk again, like a toddler?'' He says with disbelief. ''I'm a high mage of the Order Of The Arcane.''
''I know that, but I speak the language so why don't you sit down or I'll turn you into a Kikker if you're not careful.'' I do my best to discipline him.
''Yes, fine. Back to 0 then I suppose.'' He mumbles begrudgingly.
''Indeed'' I answer, back into teacher mode, as was my old job. ''Now we'll start with the Alphabet so pay attention.'' | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
​
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
​
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
​
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
​
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | The roar of the cheering crowd was only matched by the sheer cacophony coming off the Ceres Waterfall. Platforms had been erected to fill in the half moon that the Ceres River fell off of. Citizens of three kingdoms gathered here yearly to watch the mages perform and the auditorium had to be built higher every year.
I watched last year's performance as a newcomer not only to the event or this kingdom but as an inhabitant of this universe. Back home we had created a gate, a break in what must be the multiverse due to trying to circumvent the limitations of light speed. It was fascinating. The ripple in the fabric of reality called to me like nothing had. Not that I had anything other than this. I pushed past it without a moment's hesitation.
My life's work had led me here. Now if you have ever wondered what you would do with basically ultimate power in seventeenth-century France where magic was real, I have a potential answer. It’s basically what you do in video games with that setting. Turns out I don’t like making people feel bad and ended up becoming a fairly powerful healer.
Secretly, well as secret as one can be when several people knew telepathy, I did study other forms of magic. It was hard not to when I had grown up and used the language that magic was based on for my entire life. Better yet, magic seemed to follow the rules of logic that I used to program the machines that I use to use.
Now, as you can probably imagine, with a doctorate in Engineering, an interest in computing, fluent in two languages, and being lost in a time of time, I did not come off as right in the head. During my first couple of weeks, I was mostly locked up. Not that I blame them for my isolation now but it was still hard to be bitter about it.
When my panic attacks became less frequent and I was able to communicate with the locals a little better, they brought me to Healers on High. In those halls, I first heard someone say something that I could recognise as the Mages of the Ceres Competiton were drowned out by the waterfall. The healers panicked of course because what I was saying was part of the Words of Wisdom.
The following months led to me becoming a sort of a savant in the master's eyes. I practised their language, I healed their sick, I got paid well enough to live comfortably, and I even dated a bit. Weird experience as it was, dating turned out not to be as let's say one-sided as I thought ancient cultures would have been. I mean it went bad. I had the communication skills of a toddler and, even with coaching, their idea of romance was rather foreign.
I still enjoyed my research more than I did interacting with other people. Spending most of my nights by candlelight had smoothed out a lot of the sleeping problems that I had back home but I was able to figure out how to specify spells further than most had. Every mage on this planet knew some words evoked magic, some mages knew how to use logic to manipulate it, and very few knew how to string multiple spells together. The best any of them could do, as far as I could figure out, was about a sentence.
There were resources on top of the words of power that were needed for the spell but they were pretty self-explanatory. If you needed fire, you had to have some sort of fuel. Need water to appear? You need enough air to condense it. If someone needs their bones healed? Well then, I got to raid the kitchen for eggshells.
The teams of mages on the platform around me had chests full of powders and specially prepared packs of who knows what. Smelt like death with a side of bad eggs. Even with the wind, it was hard to breathe at times when the team from down south opened up their equipment for inspection.
“Healer Mack!” a tall, well-built man in his late fifties caught my eye and exclaimed before coming over to pat me on the shoulder. I patted his back far more gently. “You heal me good if I hurt?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod to the man, I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. We had probably talked a least a dozen times in the last two months but it was something like Teth or Loth and one of them I learned meant something akin to shit-hole. After rubbing my now sore shoulder, I lifted my bag and explained, “I attack today.”
The man was taken aback for a second but then let out a laugh loud enough that others heard it over the waterfall. His team seemed to take notice and ask him and his explanation had them in stitches as well. There had only been a handful of single combatants enter this event since the inception of the Ceres Competition. I was something like the forty-second. Everyone had failed miserably but considered helpful control subjects for the audience.
I had saved up for the competition, I had my notebook, and more supplies than I thought I needed. This was going to show them that I needed access to the mage's library more than I needed their condensation. Their library was rumoured to have books on advanced magic beyond what anyone had the skill to use. I didn’t learn about that until quite recently and I chose to be a healer first. I kept running into the fact that the mages thought that was all I could do regardless of what I showed them.
“Mages, take your places!” a call came out as the announcer brought the crowd to a frenzy.
“Let us show you attack,” the man said through tears of laughter still in his eyes as his team was up first. I had learned specific sentences so that I knew where to be and when but most of the words went entirely over my head.
What I didn’t learn was that I would apparently go last.
The man that had patted my shoulder walked forward with his team of eight other mages to the top platform and readied their supplies. In front of them swung three large wooden pillars with coloured patches painted all up and down them. The goal? Hit all the patches that were called out for you and then when the judges declared you successful, you were to destroy the pillars in their entirety. Most used the last as a competition of flourishes.
“Red! White! Purple!” the announcer’s voice echoed through the canyon as the team started up.
Most of what they did was single-shot, straight-line trajectory spells that required the mage's hand-eye coordination more than it required their brain. They were good though. The pillars were cleared within ten minutes and their explosion at the end included smoke of the colours that they were supposed to target.
Cheers went out for them only to be matched by the team that came two after them and then beaten by the reigning champions after them. The time to be was about eight minutes. The worst time though was half an hour as the team from Helcus had their powder get wet.
“Next up!” the announcer started with us usual hype but then quickly descended into just asking, “Healer Mack?”
I didn’t care at this point. I had spent the last two hours being told by every team that they would show me how this was done. Worse was when they were done and of course, some mages got hurt they would come up to me and ask to be rid of their burns and scrapes. I almost said no to a couple of them but gave them a definite glare after their remarks.
Now, if you program at all, most would know that going into something like this without testing would be a bad idea. Going in blind was really all I could do though. I had no way of testing this spell beforehand because I could only really afford the supplies by taking out a loan and that was hard enough to get with my communication skills.
The crowd did not cheer as I set up and took out my notebook.
“Healer Mack, your colours are!” the announcer tried his best to sound enthusiastic, “Red, Orange, and Teal! Oh, no, should we have colours that close for him? We can’t change it? Okay, sorry Healer Mack, maybe just try your best.”
I wasn’t sure if I got all that right but I gave the man a cold stare before entering the colours I had been given into the spaces I had in my notebook. When I was ready I activated the spell circle and started my enchantment.
“Activate fire missiles on target placement at one-hundred-fifty feet, target core material, Cellulose and target specified material, triglyceride with impurities. Conditional parameters. Condition one. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at six-hundred-eighty nanometers with a variance of fifty nanometers then strike the compound. End Condition One. Condition Two. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at six-hundred nanometers with a variance of fifty nanometers then strike the compound. End Condition Two. Condition three. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at five-hundred-twenty nanometers with a variance of twenty-five nanometers then strike the compound. End Conditions. Spell release.” | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
​
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
​
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
​
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
​
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | **(SIDE NOTE: First Time Writer, long time lurker)**
**(ADDITIONAL NOTE: Post contains some curse words)**
**(P.S.S. You will intentionall see words used wrong when spells are cast by the dwellers of the "other world" as they are using broken english, where as the MC will use "perfect english")**
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
Hi, my name is Sato Nobuo, I'm your typical Otoku who works 9-5, 6 days a week, and spends all my money on anime shit... cause you know what? I'm a weeb, not something I'm particularly proud of, but I really don't feel like changing it. I'm a 32 years old female, no lover, no kids, and no family...
While walking to work (cause I spent all my money on anime shit, to the point I couldn't afford a car) I heard my name called out... I turned around trying to place the name, but couldn't. I sounded like it was literally coming from all around me. I mean yeah the sidewalk was filled with a bunch of stangers, but none of which should know me... you know? Anyway... all of a sudden a bright light appears right below me, making me have to cover my eyes, but also hold down my dress, cause somehow the wind wanted to be a pervert today... *greeaaat*!
After what felt like 5 solid minutes of covering my eyes from this blinding light, it (as suddenly as it appeared) disappeared. I remove my arm from my eyes, and see that I have somehow found my self in a church...
*A fucking church... this muct be a joke, like who the fuck snatches someone and brings them to a church?!*
Completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people in this church... Once I actually notice them, I jumped back and screamed. "*What the ever living fuck!*" I looked at the people around me and notice they are all wearing white robes with a gold-color linging... looking at me as if I'm the crazier one?!
One of the white robed figures approach me, who i assume female, because I mean her figure was a 10/10 straight from a harem anime... "*shinpai shina ide, watashitachi haana ta ni shi no kodomo o kizutsukeru tsu mo ri haa rima sen...*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do not fret, we are not going to hurt you my child...*"\]
​
Like as if that is suppose to calm me down, but I mean if they really did mean to hurt me, they would have done so already... right? All of the white clocked figures take off their hoods and what I saw perplexed me instantly... There was an elf, a (what I can only assume) 2 Cat humans (*aka a feline demi-humans*), and than other humans... 12 all together. I looked down and noticed a sigil under me... that I somehow failed to notice before. I don't know how I also failed to hear, but they are speaking a different language then me, yet somehow I also understand what they are saying in perfect english.
I ask "*Ummm... quick question, am I seeing an Elf and 2 demi-humans right now?*"
The robed figures look at each other, as if confused by what I just said, but at the same time not. The Elf girl cuite comes up to me and replies "*wareware no nakama o chi tte ru noka?*"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*Do you already know of our people, child?*"\]
​
"*Ummm... I suppose? Though why do you ask? It sounds like you were just amazed that I knew of elves and demi-humans?*" I state.
The elf girl replies back with "*watashitachi ha, ana ta o watashitachi no sekai ni shoukan shi ta go, ana ta jishin no you nako tomo ha ka ga ki ko tte i ru noka rikai shite i nai to katei shima shi ta*...?"
\[Which translated in my mind to: "*We assumed that after summoning you to our world, a child such as yourself would not understand what is going on...?*"\]
​
When I am about to answer, the elf girl notices that I have injuries lacerated around my body, before even asking about them, she speaks and this time in broken english: "*Goddess, I child call upon you and ask that you heal this person so that there wounds are no more!*"
Right when I'm about to ask what that was about, a greenish yellow light appears at her hand and wraps itself around me, covering me in a arua of warmth. I feel, not only see, but feel at the inguries I have gained over the past 3 decades heal and vanish. When the healing finishes, I notice that the elf girl looks extremely tired as if she just worked a 15 hour shift. Right as she is collapsing, I quickly grab her, and sweep her up in my arms. Carefull to ensure that I don't accidentally hurt her.
The other's noticing and factinated that I can pick a person so easily (I mean so am I, I only weight 90 pounds and can't even lift 20 pounds) gesture me to follow them. We go to a room, and I lay her down on the bed.
\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~\~
**END OF PART 1... I will probably make part 2 within the next few hours... arms in pain, and back is in pain. Well it also depends if people actually like this story too...**
​
Hey Guys, if you want to read more of this, go to my subreddit r/StorytimeWithTheBrits. I already posted both of these posts there so that you guys can see not only this story, but also any other story I make in the future! | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | I don’t remember exactly how I ended up where I am. I might have died, I might have fallen into a black hole, I may have been sacrificed to the gods of old. But here I am, face to face with a living elf.
They scrunched up their face and said the world “translate.”
I wish I could say I responded with intelligence, or elegance. But I said the only thing that I could really think “uhhhhh okay?”
“It was a translation spell from a long gone language, It allows us both to hear each other in our best tongue.”
“But before you finished speaking the word I understood it, its English its not magical nor a dead language. Its the standard among the intergalactic human civilizations. Its just English.”
“Impossible the language died out millions of years ago, what little bots we have left are only the words we can decipher from the carvings on the old temples. It takes weeks to master even the most basic spells.”
“So what do I do just say the word fire and…” I felt my hand warm a little and in my hand, I was holding solid fire. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | ''So you're telling me Goudbergen literally summons mountains of gold?'' I ask in wonder at the mage, pointing at the specific spell in the book. Outside I hear a loud crashing and what sounds like tons of metal smashing into the valley just outside the cabin.
''If you're not careful you'll crash the entire gold value and the value of our coins.'' he says with a reprimanding tone.
''Oops, I know, sorry. It's just natural to me I don't even think about it.'' I start blushing at my blunder.
''No worries, you'll be a great help to further my studies, but do take this crystal, it's stops magic from happening if you hold it. We'll start with the simpler spells. Like for example this one.'' He points at the book, a spell for turning an apple into a lime. ''How do I pronounce that exactly?''
''Limoeneer I guess, it's like the fruit but made into a verb almost. Not quite grammatically correct but I can work with it.'' The apple turns into a lime as if it's the most normal thing in the world. I begin to wonder of I could maybe make up my own spells, beyond what the book says. ''You're lucky it's in my accent too, if it was a Holland accent I'd be lost. Fortunately Flemish works just fine.''
''Leemouneir.'' The mage says, pointing at a new apple. But nothing happens.
I grab the crystal before correcting him ''No, it's 'Limoeneer' you're close, but not quite. Listen carefully, 'Li-moen-eer', you can do it.''
He sighs, frowns and tries again. ''Limoener.'' But again nothing happens. ''It sure is no easy language to learn.''
''No indeed, I'll give you that. But with enough practice you'll get it easily.'' I try to give him an encouraging smile. ''It's probably best if I teach you some of the nuances of the language before we try to apply it to actual spells. You got more of those crystals laying around? It would help to not accidentally turn the classroom or this cabin into a million cockroaches or something.''
''Are you seriously suggesting I go back to school to learn to talk again, like a toddler?'' He says with disbelief. ''I'm a high mage of the Order Of The Arcane.''
''I know that, but I speak the language so why don't you sit down or I'll turn you into a Kikker if you're not careful.'' I do my best to discipline him.
''Yes, fine. Back to 0 then I suppose.'' He mumbles begrudgingly.
''Indeed'' I answer, back into teacher mode, as was my old job. ''Now we'll start with the Alphabet so pay attention.'' | I appear in the middle of a forest. I have never been here before but there is something strange about it. Something mysterious. I can't quite place it, but dare I say that it might be enchanted? Something about the trees and the colors. The way the vines fall around, and the way the animals stare. It certainly doesn't look like anything I have ever seen besides in a movie.
I walk around for a while, trying to find something. Anything. I don't even know what it is, but I guess any form of life or civilization. I don't even remember how I got here, or what I was doing before I showed up. Maybe I took a bunch of shrooms? I look around. Maybe I am still on shrooms.
I sigh and mumble to myself, "I wish I could just fly above these trees to see where I was going."
I could not have been prepared for what happened. I should have been, I am the one that said it after-all. But suddenly I was floating over the treeline. My heart was racing, I feel like that time I watched Paranormal Activity 2. That movie really got my heart racing with those jumpscares.
I finally adjust and calm down. Once I do I look around and can see what feels like a village. I try to go over there. I look like an idiot waving my arms and legs around in midair, as if trying to swim through the sky, but I am stuck in one place.
After a few moments. "I wish I could fly to that village?"
And just like that I am speeding through the sky and land in the middle of their tribe.
They all look at me in shock, and speak in some alien language. They are also green and have weird giant heads. I guess I am not on Earth, pretty scary but at least that answers that mystery (unless of course I am still on shrooms). They try talking to me but I cannot understand at all. But what I do understand is that they start bowing. Oh no, they think I am a god. I guess it makes sense considering they just saw me fly in, but it sure feels unethical.
I try to explain, "No, I'm sorry, I am not a god, I am just some guy. There is no need to bow. It's not like I can magically make food appear..."
And then I realize that I can make food appear. I might not be a god, but there is no reason I can't help these people.
"I wish I had enough food for this tribe to last a lifetime!"
And just like magic, mountains of food appear. The tribe celebrates and thanks me with more bowing. Damn, being god isn't so bad at all. It's actually pretty easy. What else can I do to help out? I am chilly in the cold of the forest. I look up at the sky but cannot see a sun. No reason we should all be uncomfortable if I can control it.
"I wish the weather was 2 degrees warmer."
And suddenly I am just a bit more comfortable. I look around to the village with a smile, only to watch all of them screaming in horror as they all melt away. I guess they are very sensitive to weather. Damn, I should have spend less time watching Paranormal Activity 2 and more time watching Bruce Almighty. Magic is a fickle bitch. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | I appear in the middle of a forest. I have never been here before but there is something strange about it. Something mysterious. I can't quite place it, but dare I say that it might be enchanted? Something about the trees and the colors. The way the vines fall around, and the way the animals stare. It certainly doesn't look like anything I have ever seen besides in a movie.
I walk around for a while, trying to find something. Anything. I don't even know what it is, but I guess any form of life or civilization. I don't even remember how I got here, or what I was doing before I showed up. Maybe I took a bunch of shrooms? I look around. Maybe I am still on shrooms.
I sigh and mumble to myself, "I wish I could just fly above these trees to see where I was going."
I could not have been prepared for what happened. I should have been, I am the one that said it after-all. But suddenly I was floating over the treeline. My heart was racing, I feel like that time I watched Paranormal Activity 2. That movie really got my heart racing with those jumpscares.
I finally adjust and calm down. Once I do I look around and can see what feels like a village. I try to go over there. I look like an idiot waving my arms and legs around in midair, as if trying to swim through the sky, but I am stuck in one place.
After a few moments. "I wish I could fly to that village?"
And just like that I am speeding through the sky and land in the middle of their tribe.
They all look at me in shock, and speak in some alien language. They are also green and have weird giant heads. I guess I am not on Earth, pretty scary but at least that answers that mystery (unless of course I am still on shrooms). They try talking to me but I cannot understand at all. But what I do understand is that they start bowing. Oh no, they think I am a god. I guess it makes sense considering they just saw me fly in, but it sure feels unethical.
I try to explain, "No, I'm sorry, I am not a god, I am just some guy. There is no need to bow. It's not like I can magically make food appear..."
And then I realize that I can make food appear. I might not be a god, but there is no reason I can't help these people.
"I wish I had enough food for this tribe to last a lifetime!"
And just like magic, mountains of food appear. The tribe celebrates and thanks me with more bowing. Damn, being god isn't so bad at all. It's actually pretty easy. What else can I do to help out? I am chilly in the cold of the forest. I look up at the sky but cannot see a sun. No reason we should all be uncomfortable if I can control it.
"I wish the weather was 2 degrees warmer."
And suddenly I am just a bit more comfortable. I look around to the village with a smile, only to watch all of them screaming in horror as they all melt away. I guess they are very sensitive to weather. Damn, I should have spend less time watching Paranormal Activity 2 and more time watching Bruce Almighty. Magic is a fickle bitch. | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | ''So you're telling me Goudbergen literally summons mountains of gold?'' I ask in wonder at the mage, pointing at the specific spell in the book. Outside I hear a loud crashing and what sounds like tons of metal smashing into the valley just outside the cabin.
''If you're not careful you'll crash the entire gold value and the value of our coins.'' he says with a reprimanding tone.
''Oops, I know, sorry. It's just natural to me I don't even think about it.'' I start blushing at my blunder.
''No worries, you'll be a great help to further my studies, but do take this crystal, it's stops magic from happening if you hold it. We'll start with the simpler spells. Like for example this one.'' He points at the book, a spell for turning an apple into a lime. ''How do I pronounce that exactly?''
''Limoeneer I guess, it's like the fruit but made into a verb almost. Not quite grammatically correct but I can work with it.'' The apple turns into a lime as if it's the most normal thing in the world. I begin to wonder of I could maybe make up my own spells, beyond what the book says. ''You're lucky it's in my accent too, if it was a Holland accent I'd be lost. Fortunately Flemish works just fine.''
''Leemouneir.'' The mage says, pointing at a new apple. But nothing happens.
I grab the crystal before correcting him ''No, it's 'Limoeneer' you're close, but not quite. Listen carefully, 'Li-moen-eer', you can do it.''
He sighs, frowns and tries again. ''Limoener.'' But again nothing happens. ''It sure is no easy language to learn.''
''No indeed, I'll give you that. But with enough practice you'll get it easily.'' I try to give him an encouraging smile. ''It's probably best if I teach you some of the nuances of the language before we try to apply it to actual spells. You got more of those crystals laying around? It would help to not accidentally turn the classroom or this cabin into a million cockroaches or something.''
''Are you seriously suggesting I go back to school to learn to talk again, like a toddler?'' He says with disbelief. ''I'm a high mage of the Order Of The Arcane.''
''I know that, but I speak the language so why don't you sit down or I'll turn you into a Kikker if you're not careful.'' I do my best to discipline him.
''Yes, fine. Back to 0 then I suppose.'' He mumbles begrudgingly.
''Indeed'' I answer, back into teacher mode, as was my old job. ''Now we'll start with the Alphabet so pay attention.'' | |
[WP] You’re suddenly transported to another world where magic is cast by perfectly pronouncing an ancient language. This language happens to be your native tongue | "Is he a mute" asked Sir Caradon, looking back at the oddly dressed and rather twitchy man riding a mule at the end of their forest caravan. He'd not said a word since he'd joined them, "speaking" only through strange hand-signs.
To be fair, after the Maelstrom shattered Remia, the imperial capitol, several months back it was not uncommon to meet folks who were too traumatized to talk, but he seemed different. Not UNtraumatized, certainly, but certainly not from same trauma.
Amalthea, a young woman who'd joined alongside the silent, twitchy man, shook her head. "No. He speaks, and he speaks true. Not only that, but his magics allow him to comprehend all spoken language. I have never met a more powerful user of magic. It is for that reason that he stays silent, speaking only through hand-sign."
Sir Caradon laughed. "How very odd. It seems more monkish than wizardly, as most wizards can't seem to stop talking about how clever and powerful they are, when they're not chattering to each other in Weirding. No offense meant."
Amalthea laughed. "None taken. Besides, I'm barely a hedge mage, they never taught me Weirding. You need to be a full ranked wizard or of the high nobility before they teach you that. Don't want it getting out into rabble like us, do they?"
Sir Caradon laughed alongside her, and nodded. "Quite. How terrible it would be if we knew what they were saying in full and truth."
Amalthea smiled at him in agreement, but the joy had left her face. She went on. "You know that most wizards must study for years to learn of the subtleties of the Tongue of Magic, yes? To wield and harness it?"
Sir Caradon nodded. "So they've told me. Many times, I'll add."
"And you know that it is possible to summon creatures, to call them and bind them to your will?" asked Amalthea, glancing back at the twitchy man. A raven had landed on his shoulder, and he was smiling at it.
"Such things are -- I did not, but I am not surprised," said Sir Caradon, also glancing back at the twitchy man. "Is that what he did? Did he call up some powerful thing? Does he fear it knows his voice?"
Amalthea shook her head sadly. "No. He was the summoned being. The lord arch-wizard of the academy thought to bind a being of power and might to his will, a creature that did not know our ways but knew the Tongue of Magic like no other could."
"And I guess he got him instead?" asked Sir Caradon, laughing. "Must have been a bad day for the arch-wizard. I suppose he picked up magic after he came here, then, did he?"
"No. The lord arch-wizard got him on purpose. That man, being, is from the distant past. He speaks the Tongue of Magic. It is his native tongue."
Sir Caradon's eyes went wide. "He must be quite potent then."
"Quite," agreed Amalthea.
They rode in silence for a while after that, Amalthea enjoying the landscape, Sir Caradon lost in thought.
"Does he speak no other language? You said he understands all languages," asked Sir Caradon after a time.
Amalthea shook her head again. "When he first came, he cast three spells. His first spell was to understand us. He did not need to learn after that, could not learn, for he simply understood. His next spell meant that we, all of us, understood his speech in turn."
Sir Caradon's jaw dropped. "He just ... that could not have been a simple spell, even *I* know that much of magic."
Amalthea shrugged. "It should not have been, but for him, it was. It also meant that he knew Weirding, and so knew of both the arch-wizards's and the imperial family's plans for him, as they spoke Weirding in front of him when he was brought into the court."
Sir Caradon stared at her, then looked back to the twitchy man. He'd attracted more ravens. He was nearly covered with them, and seemed quite happy.
He turned his attention back to Amalthea. "And the third spell he cast?"
"He says he spoke his mind and told everyone at court that he hoped that they got everything that was coming to them for their actions. He also says that it is why he learned hand-sign, since he claims to enjoy blaspheming and insulting others who deserve it, although he has only been kind so far as I have seen," said Amalthea, smiling faintly.
Sir Caradon laughed uproariously at that. "Who doesn't? Well, church-folk, good, traditional church-folk, I mean, not church-folk like me, probably don't, but most everyone else enjoys a fine tirade every so often. I don't know what's so bad about speaking your mind that would make you want to never speak aloud again, even if he did do it in the midst of the grand imperial court."
"Yes, but your native tongue is not the Tongue of Magic, or what do you think caused the Maelstrom?" asked Amalthea.
Sir Caradon looked back at the twitchy man again. The ravens had left, and he seemed sad once more.
"Do you also know his hand-sign?" asked Sir Caradon, looking ahead at the road, lost in thought.
Amalthea sat straighter in her seat. "I taught it to him."
"Perhaps ... perhaps, if you are willing, you could teach me hand-sign? A good man like him would do well to have some friends. More than one friend, I mean," asked Sir Caradon, quieter now.
Amalthea smiled. "I would be happy to."
+++++
Did a different take than the prompt asked for, but this felt like a more interesting angle to me.
If you liked this, check out r/archtech88writes | The roar of the cheering crowd was only matched by the sheer cacophony coming off the Ceres Waterfall. Platforms had been erected to fill in the half moon that the Ceres River fell off of. Citizens of three kingdoms gathered here yearly to watch the mages perform and the auditorium had to be built higher every year.
I watched last year's performance as a newcomer not only to the event or this kingdom but as an inhabitant of this universe. Back home we had created a gate, a break in what must be the multiverse due to trying to circumvent the limitations of light speed. It was fascinating. The ripple in the fabric of reality called to me like nothing had. Not that I had anything other than this. I pushed past it without a moment's hesitation.
My life's work had led me here. Now if you have ever wondered what you would do with basically ultimate power in seventeenth-century France where magic was real, I have a potential answer. It’s basically what you do in video games with that setting. Turns out I don’t like making people feel bad and ended up becoming a fairly powerful healer.
Secretly, well as secret as one can be when several people knew telepathy, I did study other forms of magic. It was hard not to when I had grown up and used the language that magic was based on for my entire life. Better yet, magic seemed to follow the rules of logic that I used to program the machines that I use to use.
Now, as you can probably imagine, with a doctorate in Engineering, an interest in computing, fluent in two languages, and being lost in a time of time, I did not come off as right in the head. During my first couple of weeks, I was mostly locked up. Not that I blame them for my isolation now but it was still hard to be bitter about it.
When my panic attacks became less frequent and I was able to communicate with the locals a little better, they brought me to Healers on High. In those halls, I first heard someone say something that I could recognise as the Mages of the Ceres Competiton were drowned out by the waterfall. The healers panicked of course because what I was saying was part of the Words of Wisdom.
The following months led to me becoming a sort of a savant in the master's eyes. I practised their language, I healed their sick, I got paid well enough to live comfortably, and I even dated a bit. Weird experience as it was, dating turned out not to be as let's say one-sided as I thought ancient cultures would have been. I mean it went bad. I had the communication skills of a toddler and, even with coaching, their idea of romance was rather foreign.
I still enjoyed my research more than I did interacting with other people. Spending most of my nights by candlelight had smoothed out a lot of the sleeping problems that I had back home but I was able to figure out how to specify spells further than most had. Every mage on this planet knew some words evoked magic, some mages knew how to use logic to manipulate it, and very few knew how to string multiple spells together. The best any of them could do, as far as I could figure out, was about a sentence.
There were resources on top of the words of power that were needed for the spell but they were pretty self-explanatory. If you needed fire, you had to have some sort of fuel. Need water to appear? You need enough air to condense it. If someone needs their bones healed? Well then, I got to raid the kitchen for eggshells.
The teams of mages on the platform around me had chests full of powders and specially prepared packs of who knows what. Smelt like death with a side of bad eggs. Even with the wind, it was hard to breathe at times when the team from down south opened up their equipment for inspection.
“Healer Mack!” a tall, well-built man in his late fifties caught my eye and exclaimed before coming over to pat me on the shoulder. I patted his back far more gently. “You heal me good if I hurt?”
“Yes,” I said with a nod to the man, I couldn’t remember his name for the life of me. We had probably talked a least a dozen times in the last two months but it was something like Teth or Loth and one of them I learned meant something akin to shit-hole. After rubbing my now sore shoulder, I lifted my bag and explained, “I attack today.”
The man was taken aback for a second but then let out a laugh loud enough that others heard it over the waterfall. His team seemed to take notice and ask him and his explanation had them in stitches as well. There had only been a handful of single combatants enter this event since the inception of the Ceres Competition. I was something like the forty-second. Everyone had failed miserably but considered helpful control subjects for the audience.
I had saved up for the competition, I had my notebook, and more supplies than I thought I needed. This was going to show them that I needed access to the mage's library more than I needed their condensation. Their library was rumoured to have books on advanced magic beyond what anyone had the skill to use. I didn’t learn about that until quite recently and I chose to be a healer first. I kept running into the fact that the mages thought that was all I could do regardless of what I showed them.
“Mages, take your places!” a call came out as the announcer brought the crowd to a frenzy.
“Let us show you attack,” the man said through tears of laughter still in his eyes as his team was up first. I had learned specific sentences so that I knew where to be and when but most of the words went entirely over my head.
What I didn’t learn was that I would apparently go last.
The man that had patted my shoulder walked forward with his team of eight other mages to the top platform and readied their supplies. In front of them swung three large wooden pillars with coloured patches painted all up and down them. The goal? Hit all the patches that were called out for you and then when the judges declared you successful, you were to destroy the pillars in their entirety. Most used the last as a competition of flourishes.
“Red! White! Purple!” the announcer’s voice echoed through the canyon as the team started up.
Most of what they did was single-shot, straight-line trajectory spells that required the mage's hand-eye coordination more than it required their brain. They were good though. The pillars were cleared within ten minutes and their explosion at the end included smoke of the colours that they were supposed to target.
Cheers went out for them only to be matched by the team that came two after them and then beaten by the reigning champions after them. The time to be was about eight minutes. The worst time though was half an hour as the team from Helcus had their powder get wet.
“Next up!” the announcer started with us usual hype but then quickly descended into just asking, “Healer Mack?”
I didn’t care at this point. I had spent the last two hours being told by every team that they would show me how this was done. Worse was when they were done and of course, some mages got hurt they would come up to me and ask to be rid of their burns and scrapes. I almost said no to a couple of them but gave them a definite glare after their remarks.
Now, if you program at all, most would know that going into something like this without testing would be a bad idea. Going in blind was really all I could do though. I had no way of testing this spell beforehand because I could only really afford the supplies by taking out a loan and that was hard enough to get with my communication skills.
The crowd did not cheer as I set up and took out my notebook.
“Healer Mack, your colours are!” the announcer tried his best to sound enthusiastic, “Red, Orange, and Teal! Oh, no, should we have colours that close for him? We can’t change it? Okay, sorry Healer Mack, maybe just try your best.”
I wasn’t sure if I got all that right but I gave the man a cold stare before entering the colours I had been given into the spaces I had in my notebook. When I was ready I activated the spell circle and started my enchantment.
“Activate fire missiles on target placement at one-hundred-fifty feet, target core material, Cellulose and target specified material, triglyceride with impurities. Conditional parameters. Condition one. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at six-hundred-eighty nanometers with a variance of fifty nanometers then strike the compound. End Condition One. Condition Two. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at six-hundred nanometers with a variance of fifty nanometers then strike the compound. End Condition Two. Condition three. If the oil wavelength reflects photons at five-hundred-twenty nanometers with a variance of twenty-five nanometers then strike the compound. End Conditions. Spell release.” | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "What?" I was taken aback.
"You heard me," the girl said, putting one hand on her hip while clutching her stuffed dragon with her other hand.
"You mean you're not gonna kill me?"
"Not unless I have to. I really don't want to."
"Let me get this straight," I said, wincing from the pain of my broken leg. "I'm the greatest supervillain the world has ever seen. I've leveled entire cities, destroyed hundreds of acres of farmland, and slaughtered millions of people in my quest for ultimate power. But you're giving me a chance to just...stop?"
"Yes," the girl said. "I thought I'd be able to have a normal childhood, before you started making a mess of everything. I might still be able to get that back if you'll stop what you're doing and help me fix what you broke. But if I have to kill you, I don't think things will ever get back to normal. Not for me. To take someone's life, even if it's for a good reason, it changes you, you know?"
A memory came to my mind. I tried to block it, but it just got stronger. I turned away from her, hoping she didn't see my eyes starting to water.
"I know there's still good in you," she said, sitting down next to me. "Deep down, you're hurting inside. Something happened when you were younger. Something you don't wanna talk about. And instead of opening up and asking for help, you just took out your anger on everybody around you, hoping it would make you feel better."
It was becoming harder and harder to control my emotions. I hid my face in my hands, trying desperately not to cry. But I knew it wouldn't last long at this rate.
"I used to be a bully," the girl said, scooting closer to me. "My parents were fighting a lot when I was younger. I didn't know who to turn to for help. So I started bullying other kids at school, hoping it would make me feel better. But it didn't. The more I did it, the worse I felt. It took me years before I finally realized I was never gonna feel better if I kept bullying people."
"What changed your mind?" I asked, barely holding it together.
"I forgot my lunch one day, and one of the kids I bullied offered to share hers with me."
"Why?"
"Same reason why I'm giving you a second chance," she said. "Nobody deserves to have bad things happen to them."
I couldn't take it anymore. My emotions were too much to hold in. I burst into tears.
"Go ahead and cry," the girl said, putting an arm around me. "There's no need to be ashamed about it."
How was she doing this? Just by talking to me for a few minutes, she had reduced me to the likes of a crying infant.
"Do you need something to snuggle with?" The girl held her stuffed dragon out towards me. "Sir Drake gives really good hugs."
I looked at her with tear-stricken eyes. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Here," she said, placing the stuffed dragon in my arms. "This will help you feel better."
"How are you this kind to me?" I asked. "I tried to kill you. I've killed lots of other people. Some of them were people you cared about."
"I know," she said. "And I won't lie, that hurt. A lot. But I also know that you're also hurting inside. Deep down, you're just a guy who hasn't been given a chance. People look at you and immediately assume you're up to no good, so you figure, why bother being anything else?"
"That's...exactly it."
"I know it may not seem that way, but it's not too late to make things right. To turn your life around."
"I can't bring back the people I've killed."
"True," she said, "but you can go a long way in helping people heal. You can help rebuild the cities. You can help restore the farmland. You can show the world that you're truly sorry for what you did by doing whatever you can to make it up to them."
"They're never gonna give me a chance," I said, shaking my head. "The world's not like you. After all I've done, there's no way they'll ever forgive me."
"You don't know that," the girl said. "But even if they don't forgive you, that doesn't mean that you can never be happy again. There are still people who haven't forgiven me, but I've moved past it. Because I know at the end of the day, the only real difference between a good person and a bad person is which way you're trying to go."
"Being a playground bully isn't quite the same level as being a mass murderer."
"But the same principle applies. Everyone's got both good and bad inside them. You can't change the past. But the past doesn't have to determine the future. It's never too late to change."
I breathed in deeply. "I have to tell you something."
"I'm listening."
"My very first kill...wasn't my choice," I said, swallowing. "I used to be a police officer, about twenty years ago. It was during my second week on the force. There was a strike happening with the railroad workers, something about demanding higher wages and better working conditions and stuff like that. We were told some of the strikers were armed, and so we needed to go and make sure they weren't threatening the public. Shortly after we arrived on scene, the Chief pointed out one of the strikers and told me to take him out because he had a gun. I saw he had one on his person, but I didn't see any signs that he was planning on using it. I tried telling the Chief, but she insisted he was too dangerous to be left alive."
"So you killed him?"
I nodded.
"I'm sorry you had to do that," she said. "That must have been hard."
I nodded again. "Every night for several years after that, I lay awake thinking about it, wishing I hadn't pulled the trigger. Wishing I would've stuck to my guns and refused to shoot. But it just was worse and worse. I told myself I'd never kill again, but the Chief kept manipulating me, threatening my job if I disobeyed orders. I eventually got sick of being manipulated, so I quit my job. And I decided the only way to avoid being manipulated again was to take power for myself."
"But it didn't take away the pain, did it?"
"No," I admitted, looking down. "I just got better at hiding it."
"That's what I thought," the girl said. "Every bad thing you do is only gonna make you feel worse about yourself. I want to give you a chance to move on from that. To right your wrongs as best as you can, and then live a happy life again. So what do you say?"
I looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. "I'll try." | "Don't do any more bad stuff! ... Okay?"
Silence.
It actually took me a moment to realize.
There was SILENCE!
"Priestess of Light, listen to me very carefully," I desperately implore her, "You must kill me! Immediately!"
"Mr. Fluffybutt, did I hit him too hard?" she looked at her stuffed rabbit in confusion.
"Hurry! We don't have time!" I can hear the voices returning. See the shadows gathering, "If they take me again I'll never be sane again! Kill me before the shadows take me! I beg you!"
"Oi! Ye ken see dem shadelings?" the rabbit who up until now had been hanging limply from her hand now looked at me with a burning intensity, "Dey's comin', ya?"
Trembling in terror, the talking toy doesn't even phase me.
"They're coming! Quickly! Kill me now!"
"Do you want to be free?" her silly laughter, airheaded demeanor, even her beautiful smile... all gone, as she looked at me with intensity, "Do you trust the light?"
"Anything is better than the shadows," tears stream down my face as I reach towards her desperately.
"Fluffybutt, connect us," she turned her back on me and raised her wand, "To me, Pulsar! To me, Chainbreaker!"
I felt a pressure in my head, and then she turned to where a shadow was rushing toward me, and her wand flashed. The shadow screeched and evaporated. But she wasn't holding a wand but a long thin shining sword. Her other hand held a Warhammer.
"Shadelings! Know that I see you, and fear!" She began to shine with an inner light as her sword slashed one direction and her hammer smashed in another.
I soon realized for all that I'd been no real match for her, she'd been only doing enough to suppress my forces. The shadows, shadelings she'd called them, had her true ire. And they could not stand any more than I had.
Though none of my men had been seriously injured in her assault, the shadelings were obliterated without remorse or quarter.
Soon there were no more shadelings to fight and the warrior priestess was replaced once again a little girl with a stuffed rabbit, held negligently by one arm, dragging slightly on the ground.
"Ye belon' ta da light naw," the rabbit told me.
"No more doing bad stuff," she smiled at me again, "Okay?"
At my nod, she turned to leave.
"Wait!" I suddenly leapt to my feet, "M-... may I come with you?"
"Of course," she held her hand out to me.
After years in darkness, I stepped happily into the light. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | “What?”
“I said don’t do any more bad stuff”
I couldn’t believe this, me one of the most powerful villains in the world, a villain that 2 generations of heroes could never beat, is being pitted by a little girl no older than my 10 year old daughter.
“Are you even old enough to be a hero?”
“I get that I may not look it, but I’m actually thousands of years old, and I’m a god.”
“What!? If that’s true then why come after me, why now?”
“Simple, you were getting too cocky”
“Huh”
“Look, me and the other gods have standards to up hold, if a human gets to cocky and starts thinking themselves a god, they will eventually start playing god. This will create messes that the gods don’t have time to deal with. So when someone like you comes along, one of us will beat you into humbleness by destroying you in the form of a young human with a child’s toy”
“So I had no chance of winning from the start”
“Exactly! Bye now, remember no more doing bad stuff!”
Since then the villain has retired in fear of being humiliated again. | I was the greatest criminal in the galaxy. As the leader of the greatest villain organization, no hero could hope to touch a hair on my head. Then, one day a test tube containing endless energy appeared, only to be claimed by a clever henchman of mine.
A boy appeared soon after, demanding the tube back. But why would I comply? This tyke knew not who they were messing with. I had him trapped while I studied how to harness the power bottled in ordinary glass. If used right, nothing could stop me.
Then a girl followed, clutching a blue rabbit. How laughable, what did she hope to do with that plushie, hit me with it? I cared little about her and simply sent my troops to neutralize her. It was a colossal mistake to underestimate her, the twerp was strong. Too strong.
None of my traps worked, she managed to break my weapons, rescue her friend, and had me at her mercy. A single swing with the rabbit freed the boy and she had the flask in hand. But the coup of grace never came, she just said she disliked bad people and left with her objectives. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | My eyes closed, preparing for the worst beatdown of my life. Not once have my creations been beaten. They were hybrid creations, sentient backpacks that can pull out anything needed at that required time. Even though the limit was, it was one thing for the rest of the day, but no one even lasts that long! Then avoiding all my traps like it was easy as 1,2,3. Well, she probably can't count that far, I mocked in my head. That damn cheetah stuffed animal and the matching outfit and a leopard wand to math. I looked up to see the girl raising her wand at me, then I braced for impact. There was a small bonk on the top of my head. I heard a soft voice and a giggle at the top of my head. "Do no more bad stuff!... Okay?" It sounded sweet.
The haze felt gone, this dark fog around my heart. It was gone, and there was still a strained smile forming on my lips. "Why aren't you beating me to a pulp right now?" My voice croaked out, feeling tears welting up in my eyes. It was so stereotypical, someone saving me from villainy instead of killing me. I shouldn't be surprised on what happened next.
"Everyone deserves a second chance! That's why!" She cheered as she raised her arms skyward. I couldn't disagree with such a heartfelt request.
"Fine, whatever. I won't so just leave kid." I huffed out. Then I saw a pinky being solved in front of my nose.
"Pinky promise me!" I looked up to see her cheeks puffed out with playful anger on her face.
Reluctantly, my pinky raised and wrapped around the small girls finger. "I, pinky promise," I muttered.
\---------
Read my profile for more stories!! | I was the greatest criminal in the galaxy. As the leader of the greatest villain organization, no hero could hope to touch a hair on my head. Then, one day a test tube containing endless energy appeared, only to be claimed by a clever henchman of mine.
A boy appeared soon after, demanding the tube back. But why would I comply? This tyke knew not who they were messing with. I had him trapped while I studied how to harness the power bottled in ordinary glass. If used right, nothing could stop me.
Then a girl followed, clutching a blue rabbit. How laughable, what did she hope to do with that plushie, hit me with it? I cared little about her and simply sent my troops to neutralize her. It was a colossal mistake to underestimate her, the twerp was strong. Too strong.
None of my traps worked, she managed to break my weapons, rescue her friend, and had me at her mercy. A single swing with the rabbit freed the boy and she had the flask in hand. But the coup of grace never came, she just said she disliked bad people and left with her objectives. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "... Can't say I was expecting that."
The little girl who called herself the Protector Princess sheathed her wand and reiterated, "I mean it, Mystery! No more bad stuff!"
I gathered the strength to get out of my destroyed mech's cockpit and responded, "It's *Misery*, sweetie. And after the thrashing you and your friend Big Lenny gave me, I'm in no hurry to defy you. Just one question though: why bother trying to get me to stop?"
Princess grinned, giving me a full view of her missing incisor. "Because I know you're not really evil! You just miss your family!"
At that moment, I swear it was like time froze in place for me. "W--what did you just say?"
Princess unzipped the zipper on Big Lenny's tummy and pulled out another stuffed animal, this one a betta fish with shiny marble-like eyes. "I can give my toys and stuffed animals magic powers and stuff. Like Mr. Banana! He sees the future and the past, and one day he showed me what happened to you. He showed me how your wife and your kids got stuck in some weird place when you came to this universe, and how you've been trying to steal stuff to get them out."
I pulled off my mask to let the tears stream down my face freely. "I just... I wanted to see them again."
Princess hugged me tight and said, "Don't cry, Misery! I can help! Just tell me what you need and I can give my toys the powers to get them out so you can give up being a bad guy!"
I chuckled as I broke away from the hug. "You are an extraordinary little girl, you know that? Your parents must be very proud of you."
Princess's smile faltered. "Oh. Um... I don't... have parents anymore. I used to, but they decided they didn't like me when I brought Big Lenny to life, so they... got rid of me."
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces when I heard that. I rested my hand on Princess's shoulder and softly said, "Well, would you like to come home with me and my family?"
Princess looked at me with eyes the size of the moon. "Really?!"
"Of course. A hero half as amazing as you deserves a real family."
Princess hugged me even tighter than before and cried out, "Thank you mama!"
My heart fluttered as I picked her up and Big Lenny wrapped his plush arms around the both of us. "You're welcome, sweetie. Now, let's bring the rest of our family home." | I was the greatest criminal in the galaxy. As the leader of the greatest villain organization, no hero could hope to touch a hair on my head. Then, one day a test tube containing endless energy appeared, only to be claimed by a clever henchman of mine.
A boy appeared soon after, demanding the tube back. But why would I comply? This tyke knew not who they were messing with. I had him trapped while I studied how to harness the power bottled in ordinary glass. If used right, nothing could stop me.
Then a girl followed, clutching a blue rabbit. How laughable, what did she hope to do with that plushie, hit me with it? I cared little about her and simply sent my troops to neutralize her. It was a colossal mistake to underestimate her, the twerp was strong. Too strong.
None of my traps worked, she managed to break my weapons, rescue her friend, and had me at her mercy. A single swing with the rabbit freed the boy and she had the flask in hand. But the coup of grace never came, she just said she disliked bad people and left with her objectives. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | I stare at the girl in disbelief. Her curly blonde hair, sky blue eyes, cute button nose, they look so familiar.
She bops me again with her cheap plastic wand. “No more bad stuff, Mister! Momma says that being bad makes more bad people, so we should all get along!”
I watch as she turns around and walks to the kitchen, her mother cooking a delicious meal. “Momma, when’s dinner gonna be ready? Daddy keeps losing and Heroes and Villains isn’t fun anymore.”
The final blow landed, I fall back on the floor, a smile on my face. I love my family. | I was the greatest criminal in the galaxy. As the leader of the greatest villain organization, no hero could hope to touch a hair on my head. Then, one day a test tube containing endless energy appeared, only to be claimed by a clever henchman of mine.
A boy appeared soon after, demanding the tube back. But why would I comply? This tyke knew not who they were messing with. I had him trapped while I studied how to harness the power bottled in ordinary glass. If used right, nothing could stop me.
Then a girl followed, clutching a blue rabbit. How laughable, what did she hope to do with that plushie, hit me with it? I cared little about her and simply sent my troops to neutralize her. It was a colossal mistake to underestimate her, the twerp was strong. Too strong.
None of my traps worked, she managed to break my weapons, rescue her friend, and had me at her mercy. A single swing with the rabbit freed the boy and she had the flask in hand. But the coup of grace never came, she just said she disliked bad people and left with her objectives. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "...what?" I sat waiting for the killing blow. The Gale Princess had beaten... Let's be honest, she kicked my ass. Experience should have trumped everything, but she just had too much raw power.
And she knew how to use it.
The little teddy bear accompanying her jumped up on her shoulder. "We believe in giving people a second chance! You have been defeated, but that doesn't mean you can't turn your life around."
She smiled and nodded, naively at that. "Yup! Think of the power and skill you have. You could do so much good with them. Make the world a better place!"
I wanted to laugh at her considering that how this started to begin with. "Really? And what makes you think I'd just turn over a new leaf?"
Eerily, everything seemed to go quiet. She looked at me with that same smile. It was just now I noticed she hadn't blinked all this time. "Because, I've beaten you once, and I can beat you again. I don't like fighting if I don't need to. You have a chance to walk a different path."
It wasn't quiet, the air had stopped moving. She was called the Gale Princess for her mastery over air. Her trademark move was the Zephyr Blade that could cut cleanly through stone and steel. But she could control air in many other ways. This allowed her flight, shielding, and even fire suppression.
By removing the air from the area.
This is when I noticed I was having trouble breathing. She walked slowly towards me. "Because if I have to come back to set you straight, mister, I won't be happy." That same smile, eyes unblinking. I felt my body drowning from a lack of oxygen. She got up in my face. "And you won't get a third chance."
I could suddenly breath again. I recovered to look as she was walking away. "Let's go, Big T! I feel like having some ice cream before we get home!"
Big T just laughed at her, "No way! You gotta save room for your mom's lasagna!"
"Ooh, lasagna! My favorite! I forgot she was making that tonight! Let's hurry!" And she flew off.
I lay there, enjoying the air I was breathing, because I knew at any moment, she could take it away.
And they call me the villain. | I was the greatest criminal in the galaxy. As the leader of the greatest villain organization, no hero could hope to touch a hair on my head. Then, one day a test tube containing endless energy appeared, only to be claimed by a clever henchman of mine.
A boy appeared soon after, demanding the tube back. But why would I comply? This tyke knew not who they were messing with. I had him trapped while I studied how to harness the power bottled in ordinary glass. If used right, nothing could stop me.
Then a girl followed, clutching a blue rabbit. How laughable, what did she hope to do with that plushie, hit me with it? I cared little about her and simply sent my troops to neutralize her. It was a colossal mistake to underestimate her, the twerp was strong. Too strong.
None of my traps worked, she managed to break my weapons, rescue her friend, and had me at her mercy. A single swing with the rabbit freed the boy and she had the flask in hand. But the coup of grace never came, she just said she disliked bad people and left with her objectives. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | My eyes closed, preparing for the worst beatdown of my life. Not once have my creations been beaten. They were hybrid creations, sentient backpacks that can pull out anything needed at that required time. Even though the limit was, it was one thing for the rest of the day, but no one even lasts that long! Then avoiding all my traps like it was easy as 1,2,3. Well, she probably can't count that far, I mocked in my head. That damn cheetah stuffed animal and the matching outfit and a leopard wand to math. I looked up to see the girl raising her wand at me, then I braced for impact. There was a small bonk on the top of my head. I heard a soft voice and a giggle at the top of my head. "Do no more bad stuff!... Okay?" It sounded sweet.
The haze felt gone, this dark fog around my heart. It was gone, and there was still a strained smile forming on my lips. "Why aren't you beating me to a pulp right now?" My voice croaked out, feeling tears welting up in my eyes. It was so stereotypical, someone saving me from villainy instead of killing me. I shouldn't be surprised on what happened next.
"Everyone deserves a second chance! That's why!" She cheered as she raised her arms skyward. I couldn't disagree with such a heartfelt request.
"Fine, whatever. I won't so just leave kid." I huffed out. Then I saw a pinky being solved in front of my nose.
"Pinky promise me!" I looked up to see her cheeks puffed out with playful anger on her face.
Reluctantly, my pinky raised and wrapped around the small girls finger. "I, pinky promise," I muttered.
\---------
Read my profile for more stories!! | “What?”
“I said don’t do any more bad stuff”
I couldn’t believe this, me one of the most powerful villains in the world, a villain that 2 generations of heroes could never beat, is being pitted by a little girl no older than my 10 year old daughter.
“Are you even old enough to be a hero?”
“I get that I may not look it, but I’m actually thousands of years old, and I’m a god.”
“What!? If that’s true then why come after me, why now?”
“Simple, you were getting too cocky”
“Huh”
“Look, me and the other gods have standards to up hold, if a human gets to cocky and starts thinking themselves a god, they will eventually start playing god. This will create messes that the gods don’t have time to deal with. So when someone like you comes along, one of us will beat you into humbleness by destroying you in the form of a young human with a child’s toy”
“So I had no chance of winning from the start”
“Exactly! Bye now, remember no more doing bad stuff!”
Since then the villain has retired in fear of being humiliated again. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "... Can't say I was expecting that."
The little girl who called herself the Protector Princess sheathed her wand and reiterated, "I mean it, Mystery! No more bad stuff!"
I gathered the strength to get out of my destroyed mech's cockpit and responded, "It's *Misery*, sweetie. And after the thrashing you and your friend Big Lenny gave me, I'm in no hurry to defy you. Just one question though: why bother trying to get me to stop?"
Princess grinned, giving me a full view of her missing incisor. "Because I know you're not really evil! You just miss your family!"
At that moment, I swear it was like time froze in place for me. "W--what did you just say?"
Princess unzipped the zipper on Big Lenny's tummy and pulled out another stuffed animal, this one a betta fish with shiny marble-like eyes. "I can give my toys and stuffed animals magic powers and stuff. Like Mr. Banana! He sees the future and the past, and one day he showed me what happened to you. He showed me how your wife and your kids got stuck in some weird place when you came to this universe, and how you've been trying to steal stuff to get them out."
I pulled off my mask to let the tears stream down my face freely. "I just... I wanted to see them again."
Princess hugged me tight and said, "Don't cry, Misery! I can help! Just tell me what you need and I can give my toys the powers to get them out so you can give up being a bad guy!"
I chuckled as I broke away from the hug. "You are an extraordinary little girl, you know that? Your parents must be very proud of you."
Princess's smile faltered. "Oh. Um... I don't... have parents anymore. I used to, but they decided they didn't like me when I brought Big Lenny to life, so they... got rid of me."
My heart shattered into a thousand pieces when I heard that. I rested my hand on Princess's shoulder and softly said, "Well, would you like to come home with me and my family?"
Princess looked at me with eyes the size of the moon. "Really?!"
"Of course. A hero half as amazing as you deserves a real family."
Princess hugged me even tighter than before and cried out, "Thank you mama!"
My heart fluttered as I picked her up and Big Lenny wrapped his plush arms around the both of us. "You're welcome, sweetie. Now, let's bring the rest of our family home." | “What?”
“I said don’t do any more bad stuff”
I couldn’t believe this, me one of the most powerful villains in the world, a villain that 2 generations of heroes could never beat, is being pitted by a little girl no older than my 10 year old daughter.
“Are you even old enough to be a hero?”
“I get that I may not look it, but I’m actually thousands of years old, and I’m a god.”
“What!? If that’s true then why come after me, why now?”
“Simple, you were getting too cocky”
“Huh”
“Look, me and the other gods have standards to up hold, if a human gets to cocky and starts thinking themselves a god, they will eventually start playing god. This will create messes that the gods don’t have time to deal with. So when someone like you comes along, one of us will beat you into humbleness by destroying you in the form of a young human with a child’s toy”
“So I had no chance of winning from the start”
“Exactly! Bye now, remember no more doing bad stuff!”
Since then the villain has retired in fear of being humiliated again. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | I stare at the girl in disbelief. Her curly blonde hair, sky blue eyes, cute button nose, they look so familiar.
She bops me again with her cheap plastic wand. “No more bad stuff, Mister! Momma says that being bad makes more bad people, so we should all get along!”
I watch as she turns around and walks to the kitchen, her mother cooking a delicious meal. “Momma, when’s dinner gonna be ready? Daddy keeps losing and Heroes and Villains isn’t fun anymore.”
The final blow landed, I fall back on the floor, a smile on my face. I love my family. | “What?”
“I said don’t do any more bad stuff”
I couldn’t believe this, me one of the most powerful villains in the world, a villain that 2 generations of heroes could never beat, is being pitted by a little girl no older than my 10 year old daughter.
“Are you even old enough to be a hero?”
“I get that I may not look it, but I’m actually thousands of years old, and I’m a god.”
“What!? If that’s true then why come after me, why now?”
“Simple, you were getting too cocky”
“Huh”
“Look, me and the other gods have standards to up hold, if a human gets to cocky and starts thinking themselves a god, they will eventually start playing god. This will create messes that the gods don’t have time to deal with. So when someone like you comes along, one of us will beat you into humbleness by destroying you in the form of a young human with a child’s toy”
“So I had no chance of winning from the start”
“Exactly! Bye now, remember no more doing bad stuff!”
Since then the villain has retired in fear of being humiliated again. | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | I stare at the girl in disbelief. Her curly blonde hair, sky blue eyes, cute button nose, they look so familiar.
She bops me again with her cheap plastic wand. “No more bad stuff, Mister! Momma says that being bad makes more bad people, so we should all get along!”
I watch as she turns around and walks to the kitchen, her mother cooking a delicious meal. “Momma, when’s dinner gonna be ready? Daddy keeps losing and Heroes and Villains isn’t fun anymore.”
The final blow landed, I fall back on the floor, a smile on my face. I love my family. | "What?" I growled as the indignation of having everything I had worked for ground to dust grew exponentially with every second I saw that naïve look of childish ignorance.
"You shouldn't do things that hurt others. That is not nice behavior," she said, twirling her wand that glowed like a prism in her hand.
That was it. I was ready to kill a child. But, there was nothing I could do about it. I had strained myself beyond my limits just to try and keep up with her. Everything ached. Everything was blurred.
"You don't get it." I whispered, struggling to lift my head to meet her eyes, "You can't...you couldn't understand. Not at all. What it's like to be born as someone like me. People in my position aren't given a lot of choices. We can't all can't keep our hands clean in the hopes of a better life."
"My teacher says everyone has excuses when they do something bad. But 'excuses don't solve problems!' Do you remember that, Vinny?"
A small fluffy dog with button eyes, a rainbow coat, and stiches on its wagging tail barked and ran in circles around the girl. Its vibrant colors were like knives in my eyes. But her words cut deeper than any enchanted sword.
"And what else was I supposed to do!"
The girl and the dog jumped at my outburst, but it was all I could manage before I fell down and barely caught myself on my hands.
"And what can I do now? There's nothing left for me to go back to. It's all gone. You made sure of that," I said, putting every ounce of venom left in me into those final words.
"I don't how I can help you," she said, putting her pointer fingers together and keeping her eyes to the ground, "My teacher said that there's people that are coming here that are going to take you somewhere where they can help you and keep you from hurting others. 'Let the adults take care of it' she said. I don't know a lot about things like this. A bunch of people told me I should have...destroyed you, and that you deserve to have a lot of bad things happen to you. But, I didn't want to do that. I was scared and I-I..."
Tears started to stream down her face, and her dog leaped up on her to lick them away. As quick as it started, she stopped crying and chuckled as the dog's fluffy tongue tickled her cheek.
Destroy me. I guess that is what I deserved, and more. All this time, the person I lied to the most was myself. There was always excuses. Always reasons for doing some of the most atrocious things imaginable. How else could I go to sleep at night and maintain my sanity? The empire I had built was destined to fall. All it took was for a little girl to break through the lies and it all came crashing down.
A group of other mages came running towards us. Hopefully it was those people that she was talking about and not one of my dozens of enemies come to finish the job. Either way, I knew I had to say something before I was gone to wherever fate had been allotted to this poor sinner.
"Thank you. I promise..." The naivety in her face was replaced by a look of innocence, kindness, and hope for a brighter tomorrow, "to not do any more bad stuff. But you have to promise something too."
"What is it?" she said.
"Promise to make the world a kinder place...so that I'm the last person you ever have to fight and you and everybody else can go on to live the good lives you all deserve, and so people like me never have to show up again." | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "...what?" I sat waiting for the killing blow. The Gale Princess had beaten... Let's be honest, she kicked my ass. Experience should have trumped everything, but she just had too much raw power.
And she knew how to use it.
The little teddy bear accompanying her jumped up on her shoulder. "We believe in giving people a second chance! You have been defeated, but that doesn't mean you can't turn your life around."
She smiled and nodded, naively at that. "Yup! Think of the power and skill you have. You could do so much good with them. Make the world a better place!"
I wanted to laugh at her considering that how this started to begin with. "Really? And what makes you think I'd just turn over a new leaf?"
Eerily, everything seemed to go quiet. She looked at me with that same smile. It was just now I noticed she hadn't blinked all this time. "Because, I've beaten you once, and I can beat you again. I don't like fighting if I don't need to. You have a chance to walk a different path."
It wasn't quiet, the air had stopped moving. She was called the Gale Princess for her mastery over air. Her trademark move was the Zephyr Blade that could cut cleanly through stone and steel. But she could control air in many other ways. This allowed her flight, shielding, and even fire suppression.
By removing the air from the area.
This is when I noticed I was having trouble breathing. She walked slowly towards me. "Because if I have to come back to set you straight, mister, I won't be happy." That same smile, eyes unblinking. I felt my body drowning from a lack of oxygen. She got up in my face. "And you won't get a third chance."
I could suddenly breath again. I recovered to look as she was walking away. "Let's go, Big T! I feel like having some ice cream before we get home!"
Big T just laughed at her, "No way! You gotta save room for your mom's lasagna!"
"Ooh, lasagna! My favorite! I forgot she was making that tonight! Let's hurry!" And she flew off.
I lay there, enjoying the air I was breathing, because I knew at any moment, she could take it away.
And they call me the villain. | "What?" I growled as the indignation of having everything I had worked for ground to dust grew exponentially with every second I saw that naïve look of childish ignorance.
"You shouldn't do things that hurt others. That is not nice behavior," she said, twirling her wand that glowed like a prism in her hand.
That was it. I was ready to kill a child. But, there was nothing I could do about it. I had strained myself beyond my limits just to try and keep up with her. Everything ached. Everything was blurred.
"You don't get it." I whispered, struggling to lift my head to meet her eyes, "You can't...you couldn't understand. Not at all. What it's like to be born as someone like me. People in my position aren't given a lot of choices. We can't all can't keep our hands clean in the hopes of a better life."
"My teacher says everyone has excuses when they do something bad. But 'excuses don't solve problems!' Do you remember that, Vinny?"
A small fluffy dog with button eyes, a rainbow coat, and stiches on its wagging tail barked and ran in circles around the girl. Its vibrant colors were like knives in my eyes. But her words cut deeper than any enchanted sword.
"And what else was I supposed to do!"
The girl and the dog jumped at my outburst, but it was all I could manage before I fell down and barely caught myself on my hands.
"And what can I do now? There's nothing left for me to go back to. It's all gone. You made sure of that," I said, putting every ounce of venom left in me into those final words.
"I don't how I can help you," she said, putting her pointer fingers together and keeping her eyes to the ground, "My teacher said that there's people that are coming here that are going to take you somewhere where they can help you and keep you from hurting others. 'Let the adults take care of it' she said. I don't know a lot about things like this. A bunch of people told me I should have...destroyed you, and that you deserve to have a lot of bad things happen to you. But, I didn't want to do that. I was scared and I-I..."
Tears started to stream down her face, and her dog leaped up on her to lick them away. As quick as it started, she stopped crying and chuckled as the dog's fluffy tongue tickled her cheek.
Destroy me. I guess that is what I deserved, and more. All this time, the person I lied to the most was myself. There was always excuses. Always reasons for doing some of the most atrocious things imaginable. How else could I go to sleep at night and maintain my sanity? The empire I had built was destined to fall. All it took was for a little girl to break through the lies and it all came crashing down.
A group of other mages came running towards us. Hopefully it was those people that she was talking about and not one of my dozens of enemies come to finish the job. Either way, I knew I had to say something before I was gone to wherever fate had been allotted to this poor sinner.
"Thank you. I promise..." The naivety in her face was replaced by a look of innocence, kindness, and hope for a brighter tomorrow, "to not do any more bad stuff. But you have to promise something too."
"What is it?" she said.
"Promise to make the world a kinder place...so that I'm the last person you ever have to fight and you and everybody else can go on to live the good lives you all deserve, and so people like me never have to show up again." | |
[WP] You're a supervillain, and you have never been so utterly beaten. All of your tricks, all of your weapons, completely outdone by a prepubescent girl and a stuffed animal. You're bracing for the finishing blow when she bops you over the head with her wand. "Don't do any more bad stuff! ...Okay?" | "...what?" I sat waiting for the killing blow. The Gale Princess had beaten... Let's be honest, she kicked my ass. Experience should have trumped everything, but she just had too much raw power.
And she knew how to use it.
The little teddy bear accompanying her jumped up on her shoulder. "We believe in giving people a second chance! You have been defeated, but that doesn't mean you can't turn your life around."
She smiled and nodded, naively at that. "Yup! Think of the power and skill you have. You could do so much good with them. Make the world a better place!"
I wanted to laugh at her considering that how this started to begin with. "Really? And what makes you think I'd just turn over a new leaf?"
Eerily, everything seemed to go quiet. She looked at me with that same smile. It was just now I noticed she hadn't blinked all this time. "Because, I've beaten you once, and I can beat you again. I don't like fighting if I don't need to. You have a chance to walk a different path."
It wasn't quiet, the air had stopped moving. She was called the Gale Princess for her mastery over air. Her trademark move was the Zephyr Blade that could cut cleanly through stone and steel. But she could control air in many other ways. This allowed her flight, shielding, and even fire suppression.
By removing the air from the area.
This is when I noticed I was having trouble breathing. She walked slowly towards me. "Because if I have to come back to set you straight, mister, I won't be happy." That same smile, eyes unblinking. I felt my body drowning from a lack of oxygen. She got up in my face. "And you won't get a third chance."
I could suddenly breath again. I recovered to look as she was walking away. "Let's go, Big T! I feel like having some ice cream before we get home!"
Big T just laughed at her, "No way! You gotta save room for your mom's lasagna!"
"Ooh, lasagna! My favorite! I forgot she was making that tonight! Let's hurry!" And she flew off.
I lay there, enjoying the air I was breathing, because I knew at any moment, she could take it away.
And they call me the villain. | After the battle, I just went home. I didn't know what to do. *How?* That one word bounced inside my mind like the screensaver for an old DVD player. She was at most twelve, and had the strength of even the strongest mages. If she pursued magic, she could possible become the strongest mage to ever live.
I sat in my darkened room, sipping on a glass of ebony liquid. I slowly lean back in my reading chair.
*A true prodigy*.
When I was that age, I was deemed a prodigy like her. I remember my days at the academy, skipping my classes because I thought they were a waste of time. Missing exams, dropping out entirely. I remember not being able to land a job. Not being able to do anything. I remember my first job. A simple hit. And after that... Everything just snowballed. Soon enough I was scheming and conniving my way to the top of the criminal underworld.
*I've lost it all.*
My empire, my vast wealth, my henchmen... Are still alive I think. I wish they are, I hope they are. At least Carl. I pray that at least he's still well.
*What to do now?*
I pondered. *"Don't do any more bad stuff! …Okay?"* The words echoed in my mind.
On the bedside table, there's a flip phone that hasn't been touched in ages. Despite having sat there for over 5 years, it hasn't accumulated a speck of dust. I get up and flip it open. No missed calls.
*Of course not... I always used burners. And I didn't have any close family or friends anyways.*
I go to the contacts, and ring the first number. The only number.
"Is this Cedric?" I ask, slightly unsure. "Why are you laughing?... Anyways, lets meet up. I want to become a teacher at the academy, and was wondering about the process to become one... Tuesday at five sounds fine." | |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | Snow on the ground. White, clumped, after falling a day or so ago. The roads are clear now, and it's less nerve-wracking to drive. Snow here is a part of everyday life for a third of the year, or used to be, whereas in my home country a few flakes were enough to plunge us into chaos and I haven't really lost that slight fear that I might hit ice and go careening off into a ditch.
Sheets of snow hang from the roof and when they inevitably break off and land with a soft "flomp" I jump slightly. What was that? I thought my anxiety had calmed after the past few years but now the stakes are higher - there's a new child to consider. | The outside is grey. Street, houses, sky and trees. Pierced by the red light of a streetlight that had not yet awoken to full dystopia-orange yet. Cars and busses pass by as well as the occasional ambulance, which comes with living close to a hospital. The small front lawn is delightfully sprinkled with leaves that, in the dusk of 1630, seemed grey. A weather to not forget your antidepressants in. For a moment, a Deliveroo rider stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked directions on the phone. And inside, a TenNinetythree who should be writing its NaGaDeMo project. |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | **Window look**
From my balcony high up I look over all these houses, all these tiny lights, while stars look down over me
The nightsky is a light blue slowly getting drowned in a dark blue ink until it's the very night itself, only pierced by a few stars winking my way.
A heavy breeze passes by telling me of all the lifes it touched and all the adventure the day has brought.
I couldn't tell you exactly how it all looked but I could tell you how it felt? Alive with lightning in my veins.
Or you coud say it was a pleasant night. | The outside is grey. Street, houses, sky and trees. Pierced by the red light of a streetlight that had not yet awoken to full dystopia-orange yet. Cars and busses pass by as well as the occasional ambulance, which comes with living close to a hospital. The small front lawn is delightfully sprinkled with leaves that, in the dusk of 1630, seemed grey. A weather to not forget your antidepressants in. For a moment, a Deliveroo rider stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked directions on the phone. And inside, a TenNinetythree who should be writing its NaGaDeMo project. |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | Outside my window is a forgotten world. A small town in the rural Midwest, the American Heartlands. Red brick houses squat amongst white lined single-story homes while silent streets pace between them like a quiet lost lover, who's dreams wandered off and friends faded away.
Cats meander around chain-fenced yards holding back large barking dogs. Smiling care-worn folks sit on their porches wondering at the world that not only passed them by, but left them desolate in its dusty wake. Everything that once mattered here has not been seen in town in some time. A man was shot a few blocks north three weeks ago. The soft serve ice cream stand is still open across the street, serving pork tenderloin alongside those frozen scoops. The sky is a pallid blue, smoke dancing lazily on the horizon. One might assume it was from decades ago when charred and boarded houses up the street caught ablaze, but it is just a farmer conducting a burn on his field. The world beyond the town limits is teetering on the brink of the year two thousand and twenty-three, a real marvel, perhaps one day this town will move on from the nineteen-seventies. But that old wind still blows, and those old dreams still kick cans across empty church parking lots. | The outside is grey. Street, houses, sky and trees. Pierced by the red light of a streetlight that had not yet awoken to full dystopia-orange yet. Cars and busses pass by as well as the occasional ambulance, which comes with living close to a hospital. The small front lawn is delightfully sprinkled with leaves that, in the dusk of 1630, seemed grey. A weather to not forget your antidepressants in. For a moment, a Deliveroo rider stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked directions on the phone. And inside, a TenNinetythree who should be writing its NaGaDeMo project. |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | A sheet of gray just a few shades lighter than the tiled roof across the street greets me outside my window. Trees with an abundance of yellow and hints of nearly-forgotten green stand resolute next to telephone poles and signage warning of a speed bump that nobody ever pays attention to until it's too late. Amongst the trees, one whose leaves have long departed, a sign of what is yet to come.
And yet... the unseasonable warmth that can be felt through the closed window encourages everybody, except me, to explore the neighborhood.
Across the street, a man with his three dogs, brown and muscular with squarish heads. On my block, a woman with two-tone blond-black short-cropped hair walking a small brown, deer-like dog. This neighborhood has truly gone to the dogs, everyone seems to have one these days. I did, too, until the sixteenth when mine passed from this world on the same day we celebrated my daughter's birthday. | The outside is grey. Street, houses, sky and trees. Pierced by the red light of a streetlight that had not yet awoken to full dystopia-orange yet. Cars and busses pass by as well as the occasional ambulance, which comes with living close to a hospital. The small front lawn is delightfully sprinkled with leaves that, in the dusk of 1630, seemed grey. A weather to not forget your antidepressants in. For a moment, a Deliveroo rider stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked directions on the phone. And inside, a TenNinetythree who should be writing its NaGaDeMo project. |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | Outside my window—window? Heh. I swivel my chair around three times in a feeble effort to regain some element of fun, but there are no windows to be seen. Work, prison… what’s the difference? Sure, I can step out into the hall to see the nearly ever-present grey blanket of clouds over the steel city, but it’s a brief respite from the drone of the air conditioners and the click-clack of my coworker’s keyboard. Nothing for me out there but the chilly autumn air and the smell of rotten leaves. At least here I have my chair. One more spin and maybe I’ll feel something. | The outside is grey. Street, houses, sky and trees. Pierced by the red light of a streetlight that had not yet awoken to full dystopia-orange yet. Cars and busses pass by as well as the occasional ambulance, which comes with living close to a hospital. The small front lawn is delightfully sprinkled with leaves that, in the dusk of 1630, seemed grey. A weather to not forget your antidepressants in. For a moment, a Deliveroo rider stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house and checked directions on the phone. And inside, a TenNinetythree who should be writing its NaGaDeMo project. |
I wanted to start writing again so I got this prompt off the internet and thought that the best time to start is right now. I'd be happy to read about the windows into your worlds. | [WP] Outside your window, what's the weather like? | Outside my window—window? Heh. I swivel my chair around three times in a feeble effort to regain some element of fun, but there are no windows to be seen. Work, prison… what’s the difference? Sure, I can step out into the hall to see the nearly ever-present grey blanket of clouds over the steel city, but it’s a brief respite from the drone of the air conditioners and the click-clack of my coworker’s keyboard. Nothing for me out there but the chilly autumn air and the smell of rotten leaves. At least here I have my chair. One more spin and maybe I’ll feel something. | A sheet of gray just a few shades lighter than the tiled roof across the street greets me outside my window. Trees with an abundance of yellow and hints of nearly-forgotten green stand resolute next to telephone poles and signage warning of a speed bump that nobody ever pays attention to until it's too late. Amongst the trees, one whose leaves have long departed, a sign of what is yet to come.
And yet... the unseasonable warmth that can be felt through the closed window encourages everybody, except me, to explore the neighborhood.
Across the street, a man with his three dogs, brown and muscular with squarish heads. On my block, a woman with two-tone blond-black short-cropped hair walking a small brown, deer-like dog. This neighborhood has truly gone to the dogs, everyone seems to have one these days. I did, too, until the sixteenth when mine passed from this world on the same day we celebrated my daughter's birthday. |
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