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	[WP] Killing a god meant inheriting everything they were. Name, powers, history, and even their memories. After killing Zeus and becoming him, you try to act natural, but the other Olympians are beginning to suspect something is wrong... because they aren't used to Zeus being so nice.	The one thing no one warns you about when it comes to killing a God? You become one. Granted its never happened before, Pan didn’t die that whole fiasco was a miss understanding involving a sailor and the death of a cult leader. I shouldn’t know that. Why do I know that? He told me, no not me, he told Zeus. Like I said When you kill a God you become them. Well I killed Zeus and to be perfectly honest Im not sure how my plan worked, It mainly involved slowly swapping out his nectar and ambrosia with mortal foods, I overheard him telling Hera what taste they took for him so I started manufacturing the flavour into regular earthly foods to feed him with. Then it was just a matter of slowly waiting for his golden Ichor to revert back to mortal blood which was unnervingly easy to check the progress off, apparently to a God a tiny dagger slit to the heel isn’t nearly as noticeable as it is to some… people. When it did revert to blood he did notice, Gods it hurt. I’ve felt mortal wounds but had Zeus? never. Once he had mortal blood the King of the Gods was weak, he screamed, truly screamed in pain, it was a humiliating attack, that gash caused me more pain than I’d ever known in all my time- sorry I’ll refrain from ‘Zeus talk’ as much as possible. Since I had been eating the food of the Gods, Starting small and building up to full meals, I found the battle fairly easy. But what happened when he died, I still haven’t accepted fully. He was my father but when I showed no Divine traces he separated any links from him to me and my mother. She never truly recovered from that, always blamed me for every wrong thing in her life. So when I tell you what happened next know my only intention was revenge I did not seek the power I inherited. When my blade cut him down he reverted to his true form, I was staring into what looked like a blackhole that was churning up blazing infernos and raging storms just to spew them out in a manner only describable as ruthless. My body should’ve been torn to shreds, my mind with it but thanks to the Ambrosia I looked on in a sickening admiration. Only when I plunged my sword into the eyes of the storm did it fold in around me, I should’ve been crushed and killed but instead I stood alive and well, the mass of swirling lightning and fury embedded itself into my skin searing it so badly that I cried out in pure agonising misery. I am Zeus now, I have his immense power surging through my every cell, his memories and his looks are mine to wield. I decided not to tell the olympians of this, They need not know, it was wise I remember ‘memory Zeus’ had said. Hera has taken notice though, Mainly because while I was “all there” so to speak I had been faithful to her. My children- Brothers and Uncles too had noticed. I was kinder than he was. I held the master bolt cautiously to my side not tyrannically like it was the perfect threat of my immense power. I was eating the food of the Gods alongside Hera and Athena, a sentence I never thought I’d say, when it finally got spoken of. “Drop the act” Hera said to me before taking a bite of her food. My face flickered to show my inner shock for but a moment, like a flash of lightning, memory Zeus suggested in my head. “Pardon” I eventually muttered letting this bodies muscle memory command my facial expression shaping it to look ‘natural’, I felt my eyes burn as lightning cracked across my irises causing a subtle arc to form between them. “Pardon! please like my husband would be so courteous” She said with a sly smirk. Taken aback I looked at her, no fury or anguish showed itself in her face, only a faint show of amusement. “How did you-” “know?” Athena finished. “Well that’s a long story but I will say we knew one day my father, would be overthrown by his own child, I’m guessing that is you right?” I nodded ”but we never thought… Us Gods know that if one of us were to die our essence latches onto the closest mortal near us and so when you started acting so civilly we assumed this had happened and the prophecy was completed” She too wore this kind of smirk as if they had hoped for this. “Why do you look so pleased with this? I killed your father and took his place when it was not mine to take” I demanded sounding more annoyed then over joyed at their acceptance to me, Traitors! I heard scream through my brain. “Well, it was yours to take and Zeus was not a very good leader-” Athena began “Or husband” Hera chimed in. “Yes, or husband. But you seem different, In the short time you have been here decisions have become wiser and more reliable.” Athena said that as if trying to take in an idea so unorthodox and wild to her, having a strong and united pantheon. I sat back in my chair, they knew yet didn’t seem to care. No, they cared, they thought I was better than Zeus was. A smile crept onto my face, one born from an ego larger than mount Olympus but a smile no less. The after thought version of Zeus who lived at the back of my brain was quiet after that, as if put in his place, throughout my reign he acted more like a corrupting force than a full presence. “I see” I began “Well you must understand, things will change.” “Zeus or not, you are the king of the Gods now. we follow your command” Athena said. “Very Well.” I said, an Idea forming in my racing mind “Firstly I am not from Greece” “What?” Hera let out “But you’re a son of Zeus are you not?” “Yes, but I am from a land west of here.” after giving an appropriate amount of time for this to settle I continued ”secondly, My name is not Zeus, that will have to change” “That’s understandable, but who are you?” Athena asked while giving me that stare of both intrigue and understanding that I would soon become accustomed to. “My name is Jupiter, and we are moving to Rome” Edit: Fixed some grammatical errors and spelling, I wrote this late last night and didn’t properly proof read it.	Everything I touched was charged with electricity, my skin was indestructible, and I possessed the power to summon thunder and lightning. Everything I had done before seemed tiny and insignificant compared to the power I now held in my hands. I tried to act natural, but it felt unnatural. The other gods and goddesses began to look at me differently and I realized that something was wrong. They weren’t used to Zeus being so kind and gentle. I began to fear for my life as I was sure that either the other gods would discover my true identity or I would be punished for my crime. I knew that I had no choice but to escape and for nearly a month, I ran from one end of the world to the other in search of a safe haven, but to no avail. I've been running ever since, passing this mythic tale down to my children. They think I'm a hero, a brave man who had sacrificed everything to give them a brighter future. I nod, smile, and tell them that it was worth it. But I know I'm not the one they imagine. As I recollect the events of that day, I realize that I had become a villain, that no matter how hard I try to mask it, evil is in me. I'm glad I killed Zeus. But it comes with a heavy price - my identity, my soul.
	[WP] You’re an immensely powerful immortal wizard who’s survived until modern day. When you get transported to another world of fantasy, you can’t help but get a little nostalgic.	For as long as I could remember, I had been a wizard, wielding immense power and living for countless centuries. I had seen civilizations rise and fall, and I had been a part of many of them. But no matter how much time passed, I remained ageless and unchanged, a being of pure magic. As I wandered the world, I came across many other beings like myself, but I always felt like I was different. I was more powerful than most, and I had an understanding of magic that surpassed even the greatest of my peers. But despite my power, I never allowed myself to become complacent. I constantly sought out new knowledge and ways to improve my abilities. I spent countless hours in my laboratory, experimenting with new spells and ancient artifacts. One day, while I was deep in thought, I was suddenly transported to a strange new world. It was a world of fantasy, filled with mythical creatures and ancient magic. I could feel the power of this world coursing through my veins, and I knew that I would be able to unlock even greater abilities here. As I explored this new world, I couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia. It reminded me of the days when magic was a mysterious and powerful force, not something that was understood and controlled. I reveled in the feeling of being surrounded by ancient magic, and I knew that I would be able to accomplish great things in this world. I quickly made a name for myself in this new world, using my immense power and knowledge of magic to help those in need. I fought against evil wherever I found it, and I worked tirelessly to protect the innocent. But despite my power and my immortal status, I never lost sight of my humanity. I always remembered that I was a wizard, a being of magic and wonder, and I used my abilities to make the world a better place. As I continued to explore this new world, I discovered hidden secrets and ancient artifacts that even the greatest scholars had never seen before. I spent countless hours studying and learning, unlocking the mysteries of this magical world. And although I knew that I would never truly belong in this world, I was content to live out the rest of my days here, surrounded by the beauty and magic of this fantastical realm. I was an immensely powerful immortal wizard, and I had found my home.	I am an immensely powerful immortal wizard who has survived until modern day. I have seen countless civilizations rise and fall, and I have watched as the world has changed beyond recognition. But despite my great power, I have always felt a little lost in this modern world. I long for the days of old, when magic was a common sight and adventure was just around every corner. So when I was transported to another world of fantasy, I couldn't help but feel a little nostalgic. This was a world that reminded me of the one I had left behind so long ago. I wandered through this new land, marveling at the sights and sounds around me. I met brave warriors and cunning thieves, and I fought alongside them against fierce monsters and treacherous villains. And as I journeyed through this world, I couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the days of old. But I knew that I could never truly return to that world, for it no longer existed. But still, I took comfort in the knowledge that I was still able to experience the thrill of adventure, even in this strange new world. And as I continued on my journey, I knew that I would always have a home in the realm of fantasy.
	[WP] Every time you die, you are instead rewound back in time to a point before you make the choice that will inevitably lead to your death, as a do-over of sorts. This time, you find yourself back in your childhood. This is rather concerning to you, as you were in your late 60s when you died.	"Thieving furball, drop it!" Athena exclaimed as her cat Cheddar ran past carrying a wool sock in his mouth. "So ridiculous," she muttered. She had over a dozen mismatched socks because she never found one after Cheddar took it. She imagined them being dropped into an alternate universe. He was an inside cat, so that was the only explanation. Even developing a collar tracking device failed to locate the kidnapped footwarmers. By the time she reached the orange-striped cat, he’d be sockless and trying to pull off an innocent face. "Not this time!" Athena ran down the hallway toward the stairs. She could see Cheddar’s tail flick around the corner. She turned the corner sharply and reached for the banister. Athena’s hand never connected to the mahogany rail; instead, there was a feeling of weightlessness before gravity slammed her into the stairs, followed by pain and darkness. There was always a moment of discombobulation before other emotions came into play. Athena looked up at the princess bed canopy: pink fabric dotted with white puffs and so many ruffles. She hated pink, and that’s all this room was. Pink pillows, a pink duvet, and a fuzzy pink oval rug on top of oak hardwood floors are framed by white metal heart-shaped scrolls. On the nightstand, a carousel horse lamp in pastel colors "Noooooo!!!!!!" She screamed internally. Why on earth did she have to live through this hell again! "Athena, come down for breakfast!" She heard her mother calling up the stairs. Ok, that wouldn’t be so bad. The smell of pancakes and bacon wafted into the bedroom. Athena grabbed the pink satin robe and slid her feet into pink fuzzy slippers. She walked over to the mirror. "Oh, good God," she muttered, dismayed. Twelve! She looked twelve! That meant fighting her mother to let her into advanced science and math classes all over again. The first fight of many "Wait, is that the choice that caused her last death? "An accident while inventing?" She pondered that as she walked down the stairs, through the living room, and into the ridiculously pink kitchen. "No, it couldn’t have been." Before being sent back, she'd lived the longest life ever, a hair’s breadth away from turning 70 years old. "Athena, your father has decided you can have a pet for your birthday. Your grades are the best they’ve ever been, and you’ve been so helpful around the house. "Your birthday is only a week away, so really think about what you want." "That's right, princess," He Father said as he folded his newspaper and set it beside his plate. His spoon clinked as he stirred sugar and cream into his coffee. "The pet store has puppies and kittens right now." "I think a long-haired Persian or Siamese kitten would look adorable." Her mother gushed. "It’s Athena’s choice, Mother." "Of course, dear." Whatever you want, hon. "We'll go downtown after breakfast." The memories of her last life were already fading. They’d be completely gone soon enough. Athena tried to catch the memory of her death, barely able to see through a fog of forgetfulness. Just the flick of a white-tipped orange tail "Can I please get a dog?" She blurted out, startling her parents with the force of her words.	"Wow, really God? You really had turned me allllll the wayyyyyy back to a point that was ages ago? Are you serious?" At the age of six, I had, just a normal life as any other, I had friends and family. Rivals and enemies. What is the reason for me to revert all the way back to this time. Then it got to me, I noticed, rather, a strange change in this time that felt different to every other. It is the sensation that I cannot necessarily describe to another, yet can make them feel it as well. This was the first of the many, it was an antidote to lasting life, it was the key... to immortality. I finally ate the broccoli on my dinner plate, this was different from my last time as I hadn't chosen to eat it. I ate it this time though and felt a change, I felt that "unexplained sensation." I noticed the other piece of broccoli and from then on, I studied it. I studied it for days on end, its chemical structure, its components, everything from the textbook, I studied. And at the new age of 74, I found the answer to that very broccoli I had kept, all this time in my hyperbolic time chamber. The broccoli had an interesting civilisation, unknown of to the naked eye, this civilisation had people, identical to me and my companions and everyone on earth. I managed to create a chip which can now capture all recorded information in bits of sound from the civilisation. After placing the chip within the broccoli, I heard cries that said: "PLEASE, OH WISE ONE, EAT US SO WE MAY HELP YOU GROW!!!" It was a prayer, am I there God? What a strange life that Im living, from dying over and over again, to studying a new microbial species. Maybe with an infinite amount of time, I too might study and experience more of the unknown, and with time, I too may become God some day. To ensure that I continue to live, I must die inorder to grow, and to grow, I must also aswell, gain knowledge of the many wonders. There is still much to do.
	[WP] You finally did it, you built a time machine! You head back 2000 years to Jerusalem, thinking you'd finally end the debate and see Jesus for yourself... but, when you finally find him and look at him, he suddenly turns towards you as if struck by an invisible force, rage visible in his eyes.	I’d spent twenty years on the design and another ten years begging, borrowing, and stealing for the nuclear fuel and capacitors, all for one shot. Mercifully, all the time spent waiting in dark Bulgarian alleys, fields in Kazakhstan, and in the foothills of Pakistan gave me lots of time to think about how I would use the machine. There was no way to travel more than about 2,200 years in the past due to load calculations. Odds of a capacitor failing were high and there wouldn’t be enough time to make another from scratch before I died even if I had all my tools and equipment from a few years in the past. My hands were withered, my body twisted by the time and effort. I’d given everything for this moment and I wanted it to count. I shipped the machine to Israel. It was no small feat getting radioactive material past the inspections. The last of my money went to bribes and all the lead shielding, but, finally, I stood by Galilee next to the rusted shipping container holding my machine, the gentle lapping of water by my feet as the engine’s low whine steadily rose in pitch. I entered the tiny hatch and crammed myself inside. Instruments and displays jammed uncomfortably into me as the whine became deafening. The year was set. A small light on the panel shifted to yellow, then green. I felt my finger depress a key and there was a loud bang, tremendous disorientation, then… nothing. I came to in the dark, gently rocking back and forth. I was alive! As I cracked the hatch, smells of ozone and burnt plastic gave way to the soft spice of spring wind. The shore was barely visible in moonlight. Of course! Galilee was deeper then! A foolish oversight. I removed a small life vest from the seat, my carefully chosen robes, and a small, inflatable raft and began to tow my creation to shore. A few carefully placed cloths concealed my work and I stood, exhausted on the shore. A couple of young men had come down to the shore to push off and regarded my elderly bedraggled form quizzically. They spoke in… Aramaic? I’d had to make choices about what I studied. I responded in Koine Greek. “I am looking for someone. Can you help me?” The first man glanced at the second who spoke up in heavily accented Greek. “You’re a traveler?” Success! I responded. “Yes. I have come to seek the one they call Jesus of Nazareth. Does he teach here?” I held out a coin I’d paid a small fortune to obtain at a pawn shop as a tip for information. The man affirmed. “I have half now, half when we get to him.” Fishers must have been as poor as it was recorded as both men enthusiastically led me further down the shore. It was a mercy their Greek was so poor that I didn’t have to explain my own stilted skills or attempt to fall back to my high school Latin. They were quite hospitable, fed me, and allowed me to ride in their cart as they led the ass along a Roman road. What a privilege to see one with my own eyes. The past! I could scarcely drink it all in before I heard an increasing din of a crowd. There had to be two thousand or more people all waiting on a hillside. Children playing, old men gesturing angrily, and others seem to have made a picnic out of it. After a few confirming conversations, I paid my guides who enthusiastically made their way from me into the crowd. I would be unlikely to last here; strange food, strange disease, cultural misunderstandings, broken equipment, but it would be worth it. In moments, I would see Him. “YOU!” A voice boomed in Greek over the din and the crowd silenced. “YOU!” All eyes turned to a slight man with a small entourage emerging down by the shore. Could it be? “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” I suddenly became aware of this man’s outstretched hand, pointing my way. Members of the crowd fell prostrate as this man walked past. “YOU DO NOT BELONG!” That… was not in Greek. That was accented… Latin? The crowd parted and suddenly I was aware of this man’s fixated eyes as he marched toward me, seemingly blind to his followers. I was too frightened to speak. “You are out of place, traveler.” Not Latin… Italian? He looked frustrated at my face. Then he spoke in halting English, “You understand me now?” I nodded. It seemed the world stood silent around me. “No much time. You… break it all. You go. Back to your machine.” I stammered in English. “Y.. you know me?” “I heard of you. Told to look for you here. Father watches. You go back to your machine NOW!” (I’ll add more shortly. Off to work!)	It was a rushed decision, but after using all his logic building this machine, faith took control and he just knew where he wanted to go first. As soon as the flash of light blinded him, he felt his weight pulling him down as he started to fall. Still blinded he felt the impact and how his shin snapped. Agony got there before his sight, so he was graving his broken leg screaming in pain when he noticed where he was laying. He knew the land would be different and some variation must have occurred in over 2000 years, he did the math and tweaked the machine so he would appear near Jerusalem in the year 32. But he never thought he will fall 9 meters right in the middle of town. People were already forming a circle around him and kids were hiding behind their mother's skirts. Pain was excruciating and tears mixed with sand were blinding him a little, but he managed to see the tanned and bearded faces of people around, some scared and others curious. Someone shouted something and he felt as two strong armes lifted him and started pulling him away, unconcerned about his leg hitting the ground leaving a bloody trail. Some screamed scared and run to tell what they saw, others just went on with their lives. A door closed and someone asked him something but he didn't understand. Of course he didn't. "How stupid of me" he thought after realizing he jumped in time thousand of years back without even taking a dictionary. He managed to open his eyes and clean off some dirt and found himself in a room with the drapes closed. Three men were watching him and sharing strange looks, as a woman stood close to the door looking at him in awe. One other was in the corner, talking and pacing back and forth. He looked ragged and covered in dirt, his hair a mess and the beard long. seemed furious, moving his arms and pointing him a couple of times. Suddenly he saw as the man turned and looked him in the eyes. As the man approached he felt scared and attempted to run only to get held tighter by the three men. The ragged man got close, muttered something and kicked his leg. When he was about to scream in pain all he felt was a sudden numbness and then nothing. He looked down to se his bloody leg with the bone back in place and a redness where once was a deep wound. "You shouldn't be here" I said after tuning in to his dialect. "I'm tired of fanatics jumping back in time and ruining everything for me. You know how hard it is to make people love you and then hate you the next day?" He was looking at me holding his leg, dumbfounded. "Other have arrived at better times but you had to get here right today, right?" I yelled at him again. "I don't... I don't understand. My lord?" He said mumbling. "Yes you stupid weak" I replied. "It's me, Yeshúa, Jesus, Jesús, whatever you call in your time the son of god" It was tiring. "But not in this timeline anymore thanks to you. Now those people out there think I invoked you from the heavens, or you are some angel, or whatever. And that will only reinforce their faith in me" I reached images ahead of time and peaked at the future. "Ooh yes, this one is rich. Rome comes to get me in a couple of months so I can invoke for them an army: they take me, kill me after failing to do so, my followers revolt and are killed.... And that's the end of Christianity thanks to you" The man was muttering confused, asking for forgiveness and trying to understand at the same time. " Enough of your nonsense " I finally said. "I'm tired of you people" Right then the machine started to pull him back and a tear opened behind him. But right when it was pulling him inside, I graved him by the shoulder and closed the tear. "Ow no, not this time. The last one was the last person I promise to send back. You are staying and helping me to make this less painful for me" The ragged man spoke to the bulkiest of the three man back in their dialect and he took me, and dragged me back to the streets, where people muttering and cheered as we went out.
	[WP] You finally did it, you built a time machine! You head back 2000 years to Jerusalem, thinking you'd finally end the debate and see Jesus for yourself... but, when you finally find him and look at him, he suddenly turns towards you as if struck by an invisible force, rage visible in his eyes.	I’d spent twenty years on the design and another ten years begging, borrowing, and stealing for the nuclear fuel and capacitors, all for one shot. Mercifully, all the time spent waiting in dark Bulgarian alleys, fields in Kazakhstan, and in the foothills of Pakistan gave me lots of time to think about how I would use the machine. There was no way to travel more than about 2,200 years in the past due to load calculations. Odds of a capacitor failing were high and there wouldn’t be enough time to make another from scratch before I died even if I had all my tools and equipment from a few years in the past. My hands were withered, my body twisted by the time and effort. I’d given everything for this moment and I wanted it to count. I shipped the machine to Israel. It was no small feat getting radioactive material past the inspections. The last of my money went to bribes and all the lead shielding, but, finally, I stood by Galilee next to the rusted shipping container holding my machine, the gentle lapping of water by my feet as the engine’s low whine steadily rose in pitch. I entered the tiny hatch and crammed myself inside. Instruments and displays jammed uncomfortably into me as the whine became deafening. The year was set. A small light on the panel shifted to yellow, then green. I felt my finger depress a key and there was a loud bang, tremendous disorientation, then… nothing. I came to in the dark, gently rocking back and forth. I was alive! As I cracked the hatch, smells of ozone and burnt plastic gave way to the soft spice of spring wind. The shore was barely visible in moonlight. Of course! Galilee was deeper then! A foolish oversight. I removed a small life vest from the seat, my carefully chosen robes, and a small, inflatable raft and began to tow my creation to shore. A few carefully placed cloths concealed my work and I stood, exhausted on the shore. A couple of young men had come down to the shore to push off and regarded my elderly bedraggled form quizzically. They spoke in… Aramaic? I’d had to make choices about what I studied. I responded in Koine Greek. “I am looking for someone. Can you help me?” The first man glanced at the second who spoke up in heavily accented Greek. “You’re a traveler?” Success! I responded. “Yes. I have come to seek the one they call Jesus of Nazareth. Does he teach here?” I held out a coin I’d paid a small fortune to obtain at a pawn shop as a tip for information. The man affirmed. “I have half now, half when we get to him.” Fishers must have been as poor as it was recorded as both men enthusiastically led me further down the shore. It was a mercy their Greek was so poor that I didn’t have to explain my own stilted skills or attempt to fall back to my high school Latin. They were quite hospitable, fed me, and allowed me to ride in their cart as they led the ass along a Roman road. What a privilege to see one with my own eyes. The past! I could scarcely drink it all in before I heard an increasing din of a crowd. There had to be two thousand or more people all waiting on a hillside. Children playing, old men gesturing angrily, and others seem to have made a picnic out of it. After a few confirming conversations, I paid my guides who enthusiastically made their way from me into the crowd. I would be unlikely to last here; strange food, strange disease, cultural misunderstandings, broken equipment, but it would be worth it. In moments, I would see Him. “YOU!” A voice boomed in Greek over the din and the crowd silenced. “YOU!” All eyes turned to a slight man with a small entourage emerging down by the shore. Could it be? “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” I suddenly became aware of this man’s outstretched hand, pointing my way. Members of the crowd fell prostrate as this man walked past. “YOU DO NOT BELONG!” That… was not in Greek. That was accented… Latin? The crowd parted and suddenly I was aware of this man’s fixated eyes as he marched toward me, seemingly blind to his followers. I was too frightened to speak. “You are out of place, traveler.” Not Latin… Italian? He looked frustrated at my face. Then he spoke in halting English, “You understand me now?” I nodded. It seemed the world stood silent around me. “No much time. You… break it all. You go. Back to your machine.” I stammered in English. “Y.. you know me?” “I heard of you. Told to look for you here. Father watches. You go back to your machine NOW!” (I’ll add more shortly. Off to work!)	Jerusalem, 2000 years before it all got out of hand. The mission my superiors had sent me on was clear and simple. Take a picture of Jesus Christ and confirm his existence then get the computer in the 70s. Easy. I didn’t stand out. I wore the same clothes as the folks around me. Perhaps the colour of my skin was a bit out of place, but nobody seemed to notice. “Son, hurry up. You have only half an hour left to finish your mission. We can’t risk you getting stuck in the past. We won’t risk another H.G. Wells, besides there is more to do. We need you to find the 1975 computer as well. This is just our little side project,” the general told me as I felt his voice inside of my head. The past does have its advantages. At least there were no forced microchips in the heads of these people. “Sir, yes, sir,” I quickly answered. I saw a crowd surrounding a dark, tall man. His beard seemed clean, so did his long black hair. The man spoke in a language which I did not understand. It was time for modern technology to do its thing. I snapped four times with my fingers. The translation machine immediately did what it was meant to do. Could this be him? “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind,” the intriguing man said to a young boy. His voice sounded a bit peculiar. I tapped twice on my forehead in a specific manner to get in contact with the general. “General, this man is preaching the bible. Could this be him?” I asked as the camera seemed to confirm my suspicions as well. “Positive, son. Take the picture and get the hell out of there,” he answered. I took out the camera and took a few pictures of the man who I assumed was Jesus Christ. It was done. The mission had succeeded. As I walked out of there, I decided to look at the pictures. The man had stared right at the lens of the camera. Twice. This was odd, but nothing uncommon. I mean, Napoleon had stared at the camera and everything was fine after that. Same goes for Alexander The Great. “Sir, I got the pictures. The software is positive, this is Jesus Christ. Take me back.” “Sending you back now, Fredrick. Well done!” The general sounded enthusiastic. Just then I felt a huge electric shock in my head. I dropped the camera and it was immediately broken. Damn it, Apple… “What is this?” A man with strong facial features asked. Did this man follow me? “Nothing of interest to you,” I quickly answered as I grabbed the broken camera. The camera still seemed to work just a little bit. It recognized the person in front of me as Judas! Incredible. “You’re Judas?” I asked way too quickly. “Yes, I am,” he answered. He didn’t seem to be surprised. “Who are you?” he asked. Suddenly we both heard footsteps quickly coming towards us. It was him. It was Jesus. “What in tarnation is the meaning of this? What are you doing here?” he asked. He seemed incredibly angry with me. I decided to play it off. “Jesus, you want me to-“ Judas asked as he was interrupted. “Leave, please,” he responded. Judas left as Jesus turned to me. I decided to answer him. “Messias, I came to gander upon your greatness. I believe in Him as well.” “Perhaps you do, perhaps you don’t,” he answered as the camera went out of my hands into his. He didn’t reach for it. It moved out of itself. After that I felt a huge headache for just a few seconds. “Your technology is destroyed,” Jesus told me. I was a bit angry now. “My Lord? What do you mean? I came here to reassure the future human race of your existence. Why would you deny us of your existence?! This is preposterous!” I responded. “No. We’ve all been warned of your kind. Mohammed, Moses, me. We know of you. We’ve been warned.” This frightened me to my core. What was this being truly capable of? What did he know? I thought religion was some sort of joke. Not only does Jesus know that I’m from the future, but he also knows of Mohammed and Moses. How? I am not really a true believer, but is Jesus really God? “Jesus, how do you know all of this?” I asked. He didn’t answer me. Instead he touched the place between my eyebrows. Shocks went through my body as I was teleported. I felt it. I opened my eyes. Planes flew above me. Cars honked as I quickly walked away. Where was I? I sped towards a trash bin where I found a paper. October 26, 2000… This is bad. I need to fix my time travel method…
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Pomeranian (Dog Breed) The Pomeranian (often known as Pom, Magehound, or spellbreaker dog) is a [breed](ftp://fakelink) of [dog](ftp://fakelink) of the [Spitz](ftp://fakelink) type that is named for the Pomerania region in north-west Poland and north-east Germany in Central Europe. It is known in Germany and in many parts of Europe as the HexenJäger (trans. “witch hunter”). The breed has been made popular by a number of royal owners since the 18th century, many of whom kept the dogs nearby due to their exceptionally potent [thaumic null](ftp://fakelink). Indeed, the breed’s creation was supposedly bankrolled in the early 18th century by the wealthy royal houses of Europe and England, many of whom were [Mana-Insensitive](ftp://fakelink) due to extensive inbreeding. The breed is generally friendly, playful, and gregarious, though it can become aggressive when it senses a nearby mana surge. Pomeranians are highly alert and instinctively aware of any mana flow in their vicinity and will often bark obsessively at any etheric beings or individuals carrying infused material. This has caused the breed to gain a reputation as being excessively vocal, with mundanes often complaining that they seem to “bark at nothing”. Unlike other thaumic null fields, the Pomeranian has been observed to be effective even against High Arcana, the Wyrm, and the Primal Forces of certain Elder Gods (see main article: [Accordance War](ftp://fakelink)). Properties The pomeranian is generally held to possess the most powerful [thaumic null](ftp://fakelink) in existance. Mana usage of any kind is generally impossible anywhere within line-of-sight, and their simple presence is often sufficient to induce manaburn and/or withdrawal effects in many thaumically-active species. The external effect appears to be restricted to the animal’s field of view, so sleeping animals generally do not produce a null field, nor do animals whose vision has been restricted. It should be noted that any and all attempts to affect a Pomeranian itself with any spell of any kind will invariably fail, even if the animal is blind. Famously, the entire Fangblood clan was once almost wiped out by a particularly gregarious pomeranian that escaped from a nearby trailer park and wandered into their annual family reunion. The increasing popularity of the breed among the mundane population has caused most major human cities to be declared [Exclusion Zones](ftp://fakelink) and has been a major contributor to [Habitat loss](ftp://fakelink) in endangered etherothaumic species. Long-term exposure (especially prenatal exposure) has been shown to be associated with elevated risk of etheric disability. Physiology The exceptional capabilities of the Pomeranian originate in its unusual neurological physiology. Their parietal and postfrontal lobes are shrunken almost to the point of vestigiality, giving the breed its characteristically low intellect, however their prefrontal cortex is greatly enlarged. It is generally believed that this is what gives the Pomeranian the ability to negate mana flow purely by the incredible potency of its disbelief. History The pomeranian was bred in the early 17th century by several wealthy families of germanic [witchfinders](ftp://fakelink) with the help of considerable external funding (supposedly by Queen Charlotte, Queen-consort of King George III of Great Britain). It was used extensively by witchfinders and mage slayers and among other individuals who were aware of The Veil but were not themselves mystically inclined. In recent years the thaumic null properties of the Pomeranian have been [backcrossed](ftp://fakelink) into other dog breeds. See [Queen Elizabeth's Corgis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Royal_corgis), [Tinkerbell (Paris Hilton’s chihuahua)](ftp://fakelink). Notable Pomeranians * Mindy, pomeranian owned by the Master Witchfinder General Ticonderogus Mensk during the Accordance war. Credited in the destruction of four great dragons. * Tiddlefoots, pom owned by The Gucci Bag Killer, a legendary serial killer active in the early 2000s. Notable kills include High Magus Zander Vakeran and Saberclaw Clan-of-the-Red-Tooth. * Susan, first pom owned by Queen Victoria. Played a crucial role in the survival of the english royal line during this tumultuous time. Responsible for the destruction of no less than seventeen would-be assassins. * Wuffles, Pom owned by an unidentified mundane human. Caused the great new york archive rift of 1848 by peeing on the cornerstone.	Brain-Jellies Aquatic Megafauna Colonial organisms resembling terrestrial jellyfish or mushrooms ranging from 10m to 100m in height from the top of their massive caps to the ends of their tentacle-systems. The Brain-Jellies are particularly notable for their intelligence, which greatly exceeds that of Humans, however they lack the ability to move with much control and spend much of their lives rooted to the sea-bed. Like most species on their watery planet, they communicate primarily via radio-signals, which permits them to utilise some symbiotic species as ersatz extensions of themselves. These symbiotes clean and feed the Brain-Jelly as well as acting as hands and eyes at long ranges. The Brain-Jellies have learned to use their symbiotes to explore their world, even going so far as to use amphibious species to colonise the surface landmasses of their mostly deep-water planet. Their industrious curiosity has led them to develop all manner of technologies and disciplines, from metallurgy to rocketry and astronomy. Their exploration is heavily hampered by the essential nature of the Brain-Jellies. They can never leave their oceans and must operate at a remove via their symbiotes and a variety of remote-operated devices. The only Brain-Jellies to ever leave their oceans are the so-called "Star-Born". Jelly Spores, launched into space and grown in microgravity. This new generation are true interstellar explorers, with lifespans of thousands of years and huge colonies of symbiotic flora and fauna at their disposal, they have begun the long search for a world with deep and plentiful oceans to colonise.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	(Note: I know this doesn't follow the prompt, but it was too funny not to do) You walk your way down the shadowed halls of the ancient temple once again, finlike hands folded in front of you and a grim expression on your golden scaled face. The chimera terrorizing the land you live in has grown too powerful. Villages are falling near daily and even venturing outside at any time other than dawn is dangerous. There is no doubt the beast must be defeated. The kingdom's finest knights have failed, as has their clan of wizards. If only they'd thought to come to you first, you think as you approach the pedestal at the very end of the winding passages. The Bestiary of the Multiverse. How the tome came into existence you know not, nor do you know why. But you do know that it is full of every kind of creature imaginable, and even some beyond imagination, if you dared to leaf through its pages too recklessly. The tome was also curious in that all you needed to do to find the creature you needed to look up by simply opening to the tab on the side with the first letter of its name. Useful, you muse, perhaps useful enough to be considered godly. But it was not godly enough to be without its curse. You'd been careful enough, you'd hoped, to not attract the attention of the temple's beastly guardians. They'd been nowhere in sight, and you hadn't even heard their laughter bouncing off the distant walls. Your heart pounds. Were you truly clever enough to thwart the pair this time? Your finger trails down to the tab marked "C" and you crack open the book. From behind you come two sets of deep, panting breaths. You slowly turn around, swallowing a ball of hot spit. On your left is the werehound, large and bulky with shaggy brown fur and rolling white eyes. On your right is the cat maiden, a tan-furred feline lady with a curious tail that flicked back and forth as she stared at her you with a wily grin. "No, please," you say. The guardians take a step foward. "Hey Dennis," says the werehound, raising a paw in greeting. "What are you doing in the Temple of the Beast?" "Please." Your words are a croak in your throat. "The kingdom is under attack. Even little Stanley is in danger. I need to look up--" You'd said the wrong thing. At once the two guardian's eyes went wide. There was a strained silence. Then they opened their terrifying maws, taking in a deep breath before unleashing the most unholy noise known to your kind: IT'S THE GREAT BIG BOOK OF EVERYTHING WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE SEE THE WORLD AROUND US, THIS BOOK'S A PERFECT GUIDE! r/mylorolfereads	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Description: The Hydraxian Lake Duck, is a small, avian-form from the third moon of the sixth planet of the Hydraxian system in the Triangulum Galaxy. It is also called several local epithets that violate the Bestiary's Adult Content Policies. The Lake Duck grows 3-4 meters and is of variable mass, depending on the makeup of its prey species. It has a bill equipped with monomolecular, serrated teeth. The species exhibits sexual dimorphism, with males being approximately 15% larger than the females. Males may be distinguished from the less aggressive Pond Duck by the screaming, and bloodshed that ensues when they interact with the native Hydraxi. Habitat: The Lake Duck is native to inland waterways, and small lakes, migrating in a seasonal patterns. As an apex predator and obligate carnivore, the duck fears neither gods(s) nor man. Penis: As with other avian-forms, the Hydraxian Lake Duck has engaged in intra-species evolutionary arms race between penis, and vagina. The male duck's penis can extend to 20 meters and is also capable of bringing down small prey animals. Conservation: After discovering fire, the wheel, and how to make spears, the Hydraxi people declared a Holy War against the ducks, driving their once plentiful numbers down. Archaeological finds in old warrior-lodges from the pre-modern era, display Duck-skulls many times larger than those of modern ducks. Notable Incidents: The Fall of Sans'erro: A lengthy epic poem by an unnamed Hydraxian poet referred to as Mers, the tale recounts the story of a mighty warrior-god who is so enamored of his own strength that he decides to face the Blood Flight alone. He is torn to pieces, and his people are destroyed.	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	I looked down at the Bestiary of the Multiverse. It was one of the few tomes in this part of the library. All of them updated constantly, which is why there were so few. Librarians would constantly travel the multiverse and collect new information for these books. Which is why this entry to the bestiary was so confusing. It started as an entry on an unusual creature from Govilax in the Tur Universe. Govilax was referred to as a front line world in that universe against an incursion from entities from the negative energy planes. Which is why the creature was so unusual. Most creatures tended to die or be corrupted by the negative energy. Logilaxin - Omnivore. Small mammalian. Most similar to either the Hubinlar from Universe 23-87, or the Rattus Norvegicus from Earth in Universe 66-9. WARNING - Animal has a b- And that's where the entry ended. That hadn't happened before that I was aware of. The librarians that investigated for the bestiary were incorporeal to assist in observation and prevent hostile actions. I turned towards the only thing that would help me get my answer. The Temporal Orrery. As one of the co founders of the Librarium Arcanum, I was one of three that were allowed to use the Orrery. And if anyone knew that we had it, they'd probably pee themselves. Just like the other Great Orrerys in their Universes, the Temporal Orrery was a very complex device, for all that it looked remarkably like a box most of the time. It was deceptively simple to use, but could have far reaching circumstances. And of course, like most things that were able to interact with temporal space, it had a mind of it's own. "Hey Dave," I said as I approached it. "Hello," it replied, "Destination has been input. Would you like me to tell you what you want to know, or should I just pull you out before death?" I chuckle. "Go ahead and tell me. If it was able to kill someone while they were incorporeal I certainly don't want to play with it." "Very well. Your researcher discovered that black holes don't care if someone is incorporeal and the rodent they were studying is capable of creating a focused field that acts as a black hole. Everyone else on the planet leaves the damn things alone. They call them Black Hole Rats." Well. That would certainly do it. "Thanks Dave," I say as I walk back out. The other nice part about being one of the library founders, is I can change entries from the library. Much less risky for me.	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	The “Remember Me” Beetle (RMB) Bug family. Typically 75-100mm in size. Six legs. Hard, shiny exoskeleton, purple in color. Four wings, rainbow-colored. Two large, red pincers aid in breaking down food, and serve as formidable weapons against would-be predators. Poisonous. This flying beetle can be found on the outskirts of every universe, feeding on decaying stardust. They reside mostly within trees, or anything that resembles a tree. If this habitat is unavailable they can create a cocoon and hibernate until a suitable living space becomes available. When threatened the RMB can use a special poison injected through it’s pincers. This poison causes bruising, and swelling. When the wound heals it leaves behind a permanent mark: a 1 for 1 silhouette of the RMB that created the bite. RMBs cannot reproduce. They also cannot die. If captured they dissipate into space dust and float back to the edge of the universe, where they regroup and resume eating. There is a super genus of RMB: King RMB. This variant is silver in color, and has the ability to command other RMBs, especially if it feels threatened. Only four King RMBs may exist at one time.	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Universes: Grav 13.6 eV/H RelStrF 10e38 RelWkF 10e34 RelEMf 10e36 Bland Nonhorror Nonmagic Indigo-11 Violet-12 Amber-46. Variants: 255233213456576 to 255233286574634 #Colonial Gigabloats Gigasupernatis coloniae The Colonial Gigabloat plays a central role in many of the major ecosystems on the gas giant world of Tirragol. Though they are primarily found in the relatively calm polar regions, populations also thrive in eddy regions even relatively close to the equator and their juvenile forms are capable of surviving powerful storms, though such habitats are thought to severely inhibit their growth. Almost all gigabloat species are filter feeders larger than five metres across, however only a handful - the Colonial Gigabloats among them - routinely reach sizes of up to forty metres in diameter. Their bodies consist of two sections - the head section, which consists of a ribbed bulb containing an evacuated space which allows the gigabloat to stay buoyant as well as the brain, digestive tract and reproductive organs - and the tentacle section, which consists of an array of thin tentacles which descend tens or even hundreds of kilometres into the churning convection areas below. These tentacles are variously barbed or contain stinging cells used to immobilise prey items which drift across them. These mostly consist of microplote plankton, but can also include larger organisms up to and including Jet Hunters, and even surfacing Diamondshell Divers returning from near the liquid layer deep within Tirragol. Upon capture, the prey item is typically digested in situ although larger items can be passed up to the larger digestive tract where they are broken down. The Colonial Gigabloats get their name from the unique behaviour they exhibit among other individuals of the same species. They extend specialist tendril-like tentacles out horizontally which find and wrap around the tendrils of other Colonial Gigabloats, allowing them to cling together and form large, mutually-supporting colonies. Such colonies can grow to enormous sizes that are often plainly visible from even high synchronous orbit, with the largest ever recorded extending some 6 million km^2 . This colony behaviour allows individuals to cling to one another while collapsing and re-expanding their buoyancy bulbs without having to lose altitude. The gloomy tentacle forests beneath these colonies are themselves host to a wide variety of life, with a multitude of species scavenging on immobilised prey captured by the tentacles, and a number of them even predating upon the Colonial Gigabloats themselves. Some, such as the Slime Striker ambush predator, even make homes among the tentacles themselves, mutualistically providing defence against grazer species in exchange for shelter from larger species that might themselves be vulnerable to the stings. ***** While I'm here, I will point people towards /r/SpeculativeEvolution, because that entire sub (and indeed the entire Speculative Evolution... "genre"(?)) is essentially this exact prompt, and some people there are genuinely amazing artists.	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Protogenia Protogenia (pro-toe-gen-ee-a) is a variant of Rhizopus stolonifer, a common mold often found on earth bread. Unlike its relative, Protogenia is mainly found growing on the pages of old books. Protogenia is most commonly found in the fantasy genre of narratives with more frequency in the books featuring a “normal” protagonist going on an unexpected journey. History In 2086 Protogenia was discovered by Maine P. Charter. At the time, M. Charter was investigating the connection between 46 separate patients who showed symptoms of an extremely eventful life. During the study, M. Charter discovered that all of the patients mothers had some sort of contact with Protogenia during their pregnancy. The exact method of influence was not discovered until a separate study was conducted by Sidney H. Charter (the step sister of M. Charter). This study found that Protogenia had a subtle but profound impact on the DNA of infants. Protogenia was found to alter many of the proteins found in the Tetragram, the part of the brain responsible for probability collapsing. It is this influence that is believed to lead a person on an eventful life. Effects/Diagnosis Those suffering from Protogenia will physically seem like normal people, however they exhibit a few physiological traits that stand out from others. - Hair: Those affected by Protogenia will often develop an unnatural hue in their hair. In most cases, this coloration will be an exaggeration of common hair colors like yellow, black, and red. In rare cases however, the patient will develop extreme colors like blue or green. - Eye color: Similar to their hair, they may also develop exaggerated colors in their eyes. Like the hair, these colors are often normal variants with more profound vibrancy. Most cases will display matching eye and hair color, with the vibrancy of each often matching. - General body structure: This affected by Protogenia will display a body structure widely regarded as attractive. Their facial features show lessened fat and a more rigid bone structure. Similarly, their bodies will have less fat as well as increased musculature. Despite the variance of body structure, all cases share a belief that their body is simply “average”. Aside from these physical traits, the main and most outstanding trait is their tendency to become associated with conventionally exciting and unique circumstances. These circumstances will often develop at a certain age after a significant event. For most cases, this trait will only develop after a significant loss (most commonly one or both parents). Following this event, the individual will be “visited”. The time between the significant event and the “visit” varies, however most cases will be between a week and a year. This visit will usually manifest as an unknown person or entity claiming to have some relationship with the individuals family. Due to the nature of the effects, it is unknown if this fact is true or was altered to be as such. Following the “visit” life events may vary with detail. Treatment Those affected by Protogenia will suffer life long effects, however like any other chronic illness, these effects can be lessened or avoided entirely. If a patient has not undergone the significant event yet, they can entire prevent their condition from developing by stopping any new significant event from happening. While this is proven to avoid further development of the condition, it has never been reported to work forever. Due to a new study by R. E. Allan, the life events of a patient may be dependent on the severity of the significant event. As a new method treatment, an individual may indirectly cause the life event in order to maintain a degree of control on the severity of their life story. Examples include: the death of a pet, the loss of a friend, or a movement from one’s childhood home. However, if the patient doesn’t strictly cause these events by purposeful negligence and instead directly causes them, they may develop Antagonitis (see further notes for details). If the life event has already happened, further developments can be avoided by rejecting anything considered “abnormal” (definitions of such may vary). To do this, most patients will purposefully ignore any unusual circumstances, ignore those in troubled conditions, possible love interests, and going outside at night. References The History of Protogenia, A. P. Smith Magic Mold, B. C. Anderson Life with Protogenia, R. P. Person	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	The Plunkoo The plunkoo is a species of organic poop that comes from the dimension qwerty1. It is birthed from the anus of a cosmic giraffe, but is only given the gift of conscious if it is birthed from the giraffe if the giraffe poops it out mid-coitus. Traditionally, the plunkoo will have two arms and four legs, but there are organic poops that are born with no arms. It is up to debate whether these are also considered to be plunkoos as well, or if they are just disgusting poops with legs. Plunkoos generally will live in swampy ends of the universe. They are not prone to enjoying hot sunny days at the beaches, but like to live in the filth and dirt. It is speculated this is because those are the conditions that they are used to when they are inside the cosmic giraffe's rectum. There is no actual proof to this however, because no scientist has ever actually been inside the rectum of a cosmic giraffe, but one scientist said it one time and it kinda caught on because other scientists thought it sounded legit. Interestingly enough, plunkoos are one of the only complex forms of organic life that do not have any sort of reproductive system. Because they can only be birthed out of the butthole of a cosmic giraffe, they have no need for reproductive organs. Male plunkoos often consider this to be an extreme bummer. If ever encountering a plunkoo, it is highly suggested that you hold your nose, and if you are not willing to do that, then just cut the whole nose off. The smell levels on these guys is completely off the charts. Many faint in their presence, and infants have been known to die from the smell. It is important also not to make eye contact or else they will come up to you and demand affection in the form of a hug. Unless you are desperate for that level of effection than go for it, but it is highly recommended you come wearing a large plastic bag for easy clean-up, or even better would be to just get a dog.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	(Note: I know this doesn't follow the prompt, but it was too funny not to do) You walk your way down the shadowed halls of the ancient temple once again, finlike hands folded in front of you and a grim expression on your golden scaled face. The chimera terrorizing the land you live in has grown too powerful. Villages are falling near daily and even venturing outside at any time other than dawn is dangerous. There is no doubt the beast must be defeated. The kingdom's finest knights have failed, as has their clan of wizards. If only they'd thought to come to you first, you think as you approach the pedestal at the very end of the winding passages. The Bestiary of the Multiverse. How the tome came into existence you know not, nor do you know why. But you do know that it is full of every kind of creature imaginable, and even some beyond imagination, if you dared to leaf through its pages too recklessly. The tome was also curious in that all you needed to do to find the creature you needed to look up by simply opening to the tab on the side with the first letter of its name. Useful, you muse, perhaps useful enough to be considered godly. But it was not godly enough to be without its curse. You'd been careful enough, you'd hoped, to not attract the attention of the temple's beastly guardians. They'd been nowhere in sight, and you hadn't even heard their laughter bouncing off the distant walls. Your heart pounds. Were you truly clever enough to thwart the pair this time? Your finger trails down to the tab marked "C" and you crack open the book. From behind you come two sets of deep, panting breaths. You slowly turn around, swallowing a ball of hot spit. On your left is the werehound, large and bulky with shaggy brown fur and rolling white eyes. On your right is the cat maiden, a tan-furred feline lady with a curious tail that flicked back and forth as she stared at her you with a wily grin. "No, please," you say. The guardians take a step foward. "Hey Dennis," says the werehound, raising a paw in greeting. "What are you doing in the Temple of the Beast?" "Please." Your words are a croak in your throat. "The kingdom is under attack. Even little Stanley is in danger. I need to look up--" You'd said the wrong thing. At once the two guardian's eyes went wide. There was a strained silence. Then they opened their terrifying maws, taking in a deep breath before unleashing the most unholy noise known to your kind: IT'S THE GREAT BIG BOOK OF EVERYTHING WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE SEE THE WORLD AROUND US, THIS BOOK'S A PERFECT GUIDE! r/mylorolfereads	Whirlpool worms Whirlpool worms are marine bivalve mollusks , and a subspecies of the family Teridae. They are notorious for their ability to rapidly tear apart entire ships caught in their swirl. They do this through their small shells on their front end. These shells allow them to chew their way into any ship. These clams are characterized by their translucent blue skin and dual white front shells . When feeding they tend to take on the color of what they are feeding on. As they digest they return to translucency. The whirlpool worm is one of the most dangerous Clams in the ocean. Arguably the deadliest predator as well. Entire crews and ships have vanished due to their predatory nature and camouflage. They can grow up to Six centimeters long. Their shells are reportedly harder than diamond. While they are simple worm like creatures . The whirlpool worm is far more intelligent then most mollusks. As the whirlpool worm exists in a societal structure akin to that of a hive mind. These worms communicate through their excrement. Their excrement is a clear and slimy substance that is transmits electrical impulses through the water to each worm. Acting very similar to the mycelium of a mushroom. This allows the worms to share information to the rest of their whirlpool . Allowing them to locate food , warn for predators , mourn the dead and more. Their societal structure is designed to protect the young and pregnant. As the young and pregnant are at the bottom of the whirlpool. The pregnant just above them . All other worms exist in rings going from youngest to oldest until the outer rings. The reason they are called whirl pool worms is due to their hunting habit. When anything edible interacts with the slimey excrement. The whirlpool worms send out an alert . This awakens the worms to start swimming towards their target in a spiral fashion. This causes a whirlpool affect in the water . Any thing caught in the traction is coated in the sticky slime. This prevents escape . At the same time the worms begin secreting acids . Which begin the digestive process. If they succeed in dragging the target into the whirlpool’s pull. the worms on the outer rings will begin chewing through the target . Each getting their full before another worm takes their place. This process will only takes a second . As each worn eats the target is dragged deeper into the whirlpool until it is inevitably dragged entirely under water. The whirlpool worms digestive acids are so strong that organic matter breaks down rapidly. Within minutes 100 whirlpool worms could turn a moderate ship into drift wood . Even that would only last a minute more. It’s believed that there is a large amount of Whirlpool worms exist near Italy. Specifically in the Strait of Messina. As well as in the Bermuda Triangle . While these creatures have great camo. They can be identified by the calmness of the water as most animals avoid that area . This cause an eerie stillness to the water . If you see a portion of the water more still than the rest. Turn your boat around. Once you are within range of them, it becomes incredibly hard to escape. It’s nearly all encounters end in death.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Description: The Hydraxian Lake Duck, is a small, avian-form from the third moon of the sixth planet of the Hydraxian system in the Triangulum Galaxy. It is also called several local epithets that violate the Bestiary's Adult Content Policies. The Lake Duck grows 3-4 meters and is of variable mass, depending on the makeup of its prey species. It has a bill equipped with monomolecular, serrated teeth. The species exhibits sexual dimorphism, with males being approximately 15% larger than the females. Males may be distinguished from the less aggressive Pond Duck by the screaming, and bloodshed that ensues when they interact with the native Hydraxi. Habitat: The Lake Duck is native to inland waterways, and small lakes, migrating in a seasonal patterns. As an apex predator and obligate carnivore, the duck fears neither gods(s) nor man. Penis: As with other avian-forms, the Hydraxian Lake Duck has engaged in intra-species evolutionary arms race between penis, and vagina. The male duck's penis can extend to 20 meters and is also capable of bringing down small prey animals. Conservation: After discovering fire, the wheel, and how to make spears, the Hydraxi people declared a Holy War against the ducks, driving their once plentiful numbers down. Archaeological finds in old warrior-lodges from the pre-modern era, display Duck-skulls many times larger than those of modern ducks. Notable Incidents: The Fall of Sans'erro: A lengthy epic poem by an unnamed Hydraxian poet referred to as Mers, the tale recounts the story of a mighty warrior-god who is so enamored of his own strength that he decides to face the Blood Flight alone. He is torn to pieces, and his people are destroyed.	Whirlpool worms Whirlpool worms are marine bivalve mollusks , and a subspecies of the family Teridae. They are notorious for their ability to rapidly tear apart entire ships caught in their swirl. They do this through their small shells on their front end. These shells allow them to chew their way into any ship. These clams are characterized by their translucent blue skin and dual white front shells . When feeding they tend to take on the color of what they are feeding on. As they digest they return to translucency. The whirlpool worm is one of the most dangerous Clams in the ocean. Arguably the deadliest predator as well. Entire crews and ships have vanished due to their predatory nature and camouflage. They can grow up to Six centimeters long. Their shells are reportedly harder than diamond. While they are simple worm like creatures . The whirlpool worm is far more intelligent then most mollusks. As the whirlpool worm exists in a societal structure akin to that of a hive mind. These worms communicate through their excrement. Their excrement is a clear and slimy substance that is transmits electrical impulses through the water to each worm. Acting very similar to the mycelium of a mushroom. This allows the worms to share information to the rest of their whirlpool . Allowing them to locate food , warn for predators , mourn the dead and more. Their societal structure is designed to protect the young and pregnant. As the young and pregnant are at the bottom of the whirlpool. The pregnant just above them . All other worms exist in rings going from youngest to oldest until the outer rings. The reason they are called whirl pool worms is due to their hunting habit. When anything edible interacts with the slimey excrement. The whirlpool worms send out an alert . This awakens the worms to start swimming towards their target in a spiral fashion. This causes a whirlpool affect in the water . Any thing caught in the traction is coated in the sticky slime. This prevents escape . At the same time the worms begin secreting acids . Which begin the digestive process. If they succeed in dragging the target into the whirlpool’s pull. the worms on the outer rings will begin chewing through the target . Each getting their full before another worm takes their place. This process will only takes a second . As each worn eats the target is dragged deeper into the whirlpool until it is inevitably dragged entirely under water. The whirlpool worms digestive acids are so strong that organic matter breaks down rapidly. Within minutes 100 whirlpool worms could turn a moderate ship into drift wood . Even that would only last a minute more. It’s believed that there is a large amount of Whirlpool worms exist near Italy. Specifically in the Strait of Messina. As well as in the Bermuda Triangle . While these creatures have great camo. They can be identified by the calmness of the water as most animals avoid that area . This cause an eerie stillness to the water . If you see a portion of the water more still than the rest. Turn your boat around. Once you are within range of them, it becomes incredibly hard to escape. It’s nearly all encounters end in death.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	I looked down at the Bestiary of the Multiverse. It was one of the few tomes in this part of the library. All of them updated constantly, which is why there were so few. Librarians would constantly travel the multiverse and collect new information for these books. Which is why this entry to the bestiary was so confusing. It started as an entry on an unusual creature from Govilax in the Tur Universe. Govilax was referred to as a front line world in that universe against an incursion from entities from the negative energy planes. Which is why the creature was so unusual. Most creatures tended to die or be corrupted by the negative energy. Logilaxin - Omnivore. Small mammalian. Most similar to either the Hubinlar from Universe 23-87, or the Rattus Norvegicus from Earth in Universe 66-9. WARNING - Animal has a b- And that's where the entry ended. That hadn't happened before that I was aware of. The librarians that investigated for the bestiary were incorporeal to assist in observation and prevent hostile actions. I turned towards the only thing that would help me get my answer. The Temporal Orrery. As one of the co founders of the Librarium Arcanum, I was one of three that were allowed to use the Orrery. And if anyone knew that we had it, they'd probably pee themselves. Just like the other Great Orrerys in their Universes, the Temporal Orrery was a very complex device, for all that it looked remarkably like a box most of the time. It was deceptively simple to use, but could have far reaching circumstances. And of course, like most things that were able to interact with temporal space, it had a mind of it's own. "Hey Dave," I said as I approached it. "Hello," it replied, "Destination has been input. Would you like me to tell you what you want to know, or should I just pull you out before death?" I chuckle. "Go ahead and tell me. If it was able to kill someone while they were incorporeal I certainly don't want to play with it." "Very well. Your researcher discovered that black holes don't care if someone is incorporeal and the rodent they were studying is capable of creating a focused field that acts as a black hole. Everyone else on the planet leaves the damn things alone. They call them Black Hole Rats." Well. That would certainly do it. "Thanks Dave," I say as I walk back out. The other nice part about being one of the library founders, is I can change entries from the library. Much less risky for me.	Whirlpool worms Whirlpool worms are marine bivalve mollusks , and a subspecies of the family Teridae. They are notorious for their ability to rapidly tear apart entire ships caught in their swirl. They do this through their small shells on their front end. These shells allow them to chew their way into any ship. These clams are characterized by their translucent blue skin and dual white front shells . When feeding they tend to take on the color of what they are feeding on. As they digest they return to translucency. The whirlpool worm is one of the most dangerous Clams in the ocean. Arguably the deadliest predator as well. Entire crews and ships have vanished due to their predatory nature and camouflage. They can grow up to Six centimeters long. Their shells are reportedly harder than diamond. While they are simple worm like creatures . The whirlpool worm is far more intelligent then most mollusks. As the whirlpool worm exists in a societal structure akin to that of a hive mind. These worms communicate through their excrement. Their excrement is a clear and slimy substance that is transmits electrical impulses through the water to each worm. Acting very similar to the mycelium of a mushroom. This allows the worms to share information to the rest of their whirlpool . Allowing them to locate food , warn for predators , mourn the dead and more. Their societal structure is designed to protect the young and pregnant. As the young and pregnant are at the bottom of the whirlpool. The pregnant just above them . All other worms exist in rings going from youngest to oldest until the outer rings. The reason they are called whirl pool worms is due to their hunting habit. When anything edible interacts with the slimey excrement. The whirlpool worms send out an alert . This awakens the worms to start swimming towards their target in a spiral fashion. This causes a whirlpool affect in the water . Any thing caught in the traction is coated in the sticky slime. This prevents escape . At the same time the worms begin secreting acids . Which begin the digestive process. If they succeed in dragging the target into the whirlpool’s pull. the worms on the outer rings will begin chewing through the target . Each getting their full before another worm takes their place. This process will only takes a second . As each worn eats the target is dragged deeper into the whirlpool until it is inevitably dragged entirely under water. The whirlpool worms digestive acids are so strong that organic matter breaks down rapidly. Within minutes 100 whirlpool worms could turn a moderate ship into drift wood . Even that would only last a minute more. It’s believed that there is a large amount of Whirlpool worms exist near Italy. Specifically in the Strait of Messina. As well as in the Bermuda Triangle . While these creatures have great camo. They can be identified by the calmness of the water as most animals avoid that area . This cause an eerie stillness to the water . If you see a portion of the water more still than the rest. Turn your boat around. Once you are within range of them, it becomes incredibly hard to escape. It’s nearly all encounters end in death.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	Whirlpool worms Whirlpool worms are marine bivalve mollusks , and a subspecies of the family Teridae. They are notorious for their ability to rapidly tear apart entire ships caught in their swirl. They do this through their small shells on their front end. These shells allow them to chew their way into any ship. These clams are characterized by their translucent blue skin and dual white front shells . When feeding they tend to take on the color of what they are feeding on. As they digest they return to translucency. The whirlpool worm is one of the most dangerous Clams in the ocean. Arguably the deadliest predator as well. Entire crews and ships have vanished due to their predatory nature and camouflage. They can grow up to Six centimeters long. Their shells are reportedly harder than diamond. While they are simple worm like creatures . The whirlpool worm is far more intelligent then most mollusks. As the whirlpool worm exists in a societal structure akin to that of a hive mind. These worms communicate through their excrement. Their excrement is a clear and slimy substance that is transmits electrical impulses through the water to each worm. Acting very similar to the mycelium of a mushroom. This allows the worms to share information to the rest of their whirlpool . Allowing them to locate food , warn for predators , mourn the dead and more. Their societal structure is designed to protect the young and pregnant. As the young and pregnant are at the bottom of the whirlpool. The pregnant just above them . All other worms exist in rings going from youngest to oldest until the outer rings. The reason they are called whirl pool worms is due to their hunting habit. When anything edible interacts with the slimey excrement. The whirlpool worms send out an alert . This awakens the worms to start swimming towards their target in a spiral fashion. This causes a whirlpool affect in the water . Any thing caught in the traction is coated in the sticky slime. This prevents escape . At the same time the worms begin secreting acids . Which begin the digestive process. If they succeed in dragging the target into the whirlpool’s pull. the worms on the outer rings will begin chewing through the target . Each getting their full before another worm takes their place. This process will only takes a second . As each worn eats the target is dragged deeper into the whirlpool until it is inevitably dragged entirely under water. The whirlpool worms digestive acids are so strong that organic matter breaks down rapidly. Within minutes 100 whirlpool worms could turn a moderate ship into drift wood . Even that would only last a minute more. It’s believed that there is a large amount of Whirlpool worms exist near Italy. Specifically in the Strait of Messina. As well as in the Bermuda Triangle . While these creatures have great camo. They can be identified by the calmness of the water as most animals avoid that area . This cause an eerie stillness to the water . If you see a portion of the water more still than the rest. Turn your boat around. Once you are within range of them, it becomes incredibly hard to escape. It’s nearly all encounters end in death.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	(Note: I know this doesn't follow the prompt, but it was too funny not to do) You walk your way down the shadowed halls of the ancient temple once again, finlike hands folded in front of you and a grim expression on your golden scaled face. The chimera terrorizing the land you live in has grown too powerful. Villages are falling near daily and even venturing outside at any time other than dawn is dangerous. There is no doubt the beast must be defeated. The kingdom's finest knights have failed, as has their clan of wizards. If only they'd thought to come to you first, you think as you approach the pedestal at the very end of the winding passages. The Bestiary of the Multiverse. How the tome came into existence you know not, nor do you know why. But you do know that it is full of every kind of creature imaginable, and even some beyond imagination, if you dared to leaf through its pages too recklessly. The tome was also curious in that all you needed to do to find the creature you needed to look up by simply opening to the tab on the side with the first letter of its name. Useful, you muse, perhaps useful enough to be considered godly. But it was not godly enough to be without its curse. You'd been careful enough, you'd hoped, to not attract the attention of the temple's beastly guardians. They'd been nowhere in sight, and you hadn't even heard their laughter bouncing off the distant walls. Your heart pounds. Were you truly clever enough to thwart the pair this time? Your finger trails down to the tab marked "C" and you crack open the book. From behind you come two sets of deep, panting breaths. You slowly turn around, swallowing a ball of hot spit. On your left is the werehound, large and bulky with shaggy brown fur and rolling white eyes. On your right is the cat maiden, a tan-furred feline lady with a curious tail that flicked back and forth as she stared at her you with a wily grin. "No, please," you say. The guardians take a step foward. "Hey Dennis," says the werehound, raising a paw in greeting. "What are you doing in the Temple of the Beast?" "Please." Your words are a croak in your throat. "The kingdom is under attack. Even little Stanley is in danger. I need to look up--" You'd said the wrong thing. At once the two guardian's eyes went wide. There was a strained silence. Then they opened their terrifying maws, taking in a deep breath before unleashing the most unholy noise known to your kind: IT'S THE GREAT BIG BOOK OF EVERYTHING WITH EVERYTHING INSIDE SEE THE WORLD AROUND US, THIS BOOK'S A PERFECT GUIDE! r/mylorolfereads
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	Description: The Hydraxian Lake Duck, is a small, avian-form from the third moon of the sixth planet of the Hydraxian system in the Triangulum Galaxy. It is also called several local epithets that violate the Bestiary's Adult Content Policies. The Lake Duck grows 3-4 meters and is of variable mass, depending on the makeup of its prey species. It has a bill equipped with monomolecular, serrated teeth. The species exhibits sexual dimorphism, with males being approximately 15% larger than the females. Males may be distinguished from the less aggressive Pond Duck by the screaming, and bloodshed that ensues when they interact with the native Hydraxi. Habitat: The Lake Duck is native to inland waterways, and small lakes, migrating in a seasonal patterns. As an apex predator and obligate carnivore, the duck fears neither gods(s) nor man. Penis: As with other avian-forms, the Hydraxian Lake Duck has engaged in intra-species evolutionary arms race between penis, and vagina. The male duck's penis can extend to 20 meters and is also capable of bringing down small prey animals. Conservation: After discovering fire, the wheel, and how to make spears, the Hydraxi people declared a Holy War against the ducks, driving their once plentiful numbers down. Archaeological finds in old warrior-lodges from the pre-modern era, display Duck-skulls many times larger than those of modern ducks. Notable Incidents: The Fall of Sans'erro: A lengthy epic poem by an unnamed Hydraxian poet referred to as Mers, the tale recounts the story of a mighty warrior-god who is so enamored of his own strength that he decides to face the Blood Flight alone. He is torn to pieces, and his people are destroyed.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	The “Remember Me” Beetle (RMB) Bug family. Typically 75-100mm in size. Six legs. Hard, shiny exoskeleton, purple in color. Four wings, rainbow-colored. Two large, red pincers aid in breaking down food, and serve as formidable weapons against would-be predators. Poisonous. This flying beetle can be found on the outskirts of every universe, feeding on decaying stardust. They reside mostly within trees, or anything that resembles a tree. If this habitat is unavailable they can create a cocoon and hibernate until a suitable living space becomes available. When threatened the RMB can use a special poison injected through it’s pincers. This poison causes bruising, and swelling. When the wound heals it leaves behind a permanent mark: a 1 for 1 silhouette of the RMB that created the bite. RMBs cannot reproduce. They also cannot die. If captured they dissipate into space dust and float back to the edge of the universe, where they regroup and resume eating. There is a super genus of RMB: King RMB. This variant is silver in color, and has the ability to command other RMBs, especially if it feels threatened. Only four King RMBs may exist at one time.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	Universes: Grav 13.6 eV/H RelStrF 10e38 RelWkF 10e34 RelEMf 10e36 Bland Nonhorror Nonmagic Indigo-11 Violet-12 Amber-46. Variants: 255233213456576 to 255233286574634 #Colonial Gigabloats Gigasupernatis coloniae The Colonial Gigabloat plays a central role in many of the major ecosystems on the gas giant world of Tirragol. Though they are primarily found in the relatively calm polar regions, populations also thrive in eddy regions even relatively close to the equator and their juvenile forms are capable of surviving powerful storms, though such habitats are thought to severely inhibit their growth. Almost all gigabloat species are filter feeders larger than five metres across, however only a handful - the Colonial Gigabloats among them - routinely reach sizes of up to forty metres in diameter. Their bodies consist of two sections - the head section, which consists of a ribbed bulb containing an evacuated space which allows the gigabloat to stay buoyant as well as the brain, digestive tract and reproductive organs - and the tentacle section, which consists of an array of thin tentacles which descend tens or even hundreds of kilometres into the churning convection areas below. These tentacles are variously barbed or contain stinging cells used to immobilise prey items which drift across them. These mostly consist of microplote plankton, but can also include larger organisms up to and including Jet Hunters, and even surfacing Diamondshell Divers returning from near the liquid layer deep within Tirragol. Upon capture, the prey item is typically digested in situ although larger items can be passed up to the larger digestive tract where they are broken down. The Colonial Gigabloats get their name from the unique behaviour they exhibit among other individuals of the same species. They extend specialist tendril-like tentacles out horizontally which find and wrap around the tendrils of other Colonial Gigabloats, allowing them to cling together and form large, mutually-supporting colonies. Such colonies can grow to enormous sizes that are often plainly visible from even high synchronous orbit, with the largest ever recorded extending some 6 million km^2 . This colony behaviour allows individuals to cling to one another while collapsing and re-expanding their buoyancy bulbs without having to lose altitude. The gloomy tentacle forests beneath these colonies are themselves host to a wide variety of life, with a multitude of species scavenging on immobilised prey captured by the tentacles, and a number of them even predating upon the Colonial Gigabloats themselves. Some, such as the Slime Striker ambush predator, even make homes among the tentacles themselves, mutualistically providing defence against grazer species in exchange for shelter from larger species that might themselves be vulnerable to the stings. ***** While I'm here, I will point people towards /r/SpeculativeEvolution, because that entire sub (and indeed the entire Speculative Evolution... "genre"(?)) is essentially this exact prompt, and some people there are genuinely amazing artists.
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Warp Lennoa A medium sized feline that inhabits savannahs and is known for their unique abilities and varied color. Their preferred method of hunting is careful stalking of prey, shortly followed by a quick ambush through a portal. Some observed Lennoa have been shown capable of forming warp tears underneath prey, transporting them to unsurvivable locations or speeds. A favorite pastime of the Lennoa is jumping off high objects into their own portals to achieve freefall. A unique trait of the Lennoa allows them to control their inertia while in warp space, allowing them to land gracefully, or move at high speeds when required. Often observed in small family units of 2-6, it is not uncommon to spot Lennoa kittens chasing each other across the sky.	Protogenia Protogenia (pro-toe-gen-ee-a) is a variant of Rhizopus stolonifer, a common mold often found on earth bread. Unlike its relative, Protogenia is mainly found growing on the pages of old books. Protogenia is most commonly found in the fantasy genre of narratives with more frequency in the books featuring a “normal” protagonist going on an unexpected journey. History In 2086 Protogenia was discovered by Maine P. Charter. At the time, M. Charter was investigating the connection between 46 separate patients who showed symptoms of an extremely eventful life. During the study, M. Charter discovered that all of the patients mothers had some sort of contact with Protogenia during their pregnancy. The exact method of influence was not discovered until a separate study was conducted by Sidney H. Charter (the step sister of M. Charter). This study found that Protogenia had a subtle but profound impact on the DNA of infants. Protogenia was found to alter many of the proteins found in the Tetragram, the part of the brain responsible for probability collapsing. It is this influence that is believed to lead a person on an eventful life. Effects/Diagnosis Those suffering from Protogenia will physically seem like normal people, however they exhibit a few physiological traits that stand out from others. - Hair: Those affected by Protogenia will often develop an unnatural hue in their hair. In most cases, this coloration will be an exaggeration of common hair colors like yellow, black, and red. In rare cases however, the patient will develop extreme colors like blue or green. - Eye color: Similar to their hair, they may also develop exaggerated colors in their eyes. Like the hair, these colors are often normal variants with more profound vibrancy. Most cases will display matching eye and hair color, with the vibrancy of each often matching. - General body structure: This affected by Protogenia will display a body structure widely regarded as attractive. Their facial features show lessened fat and a more rigid bone structure. Similarly, their bodies will have less fat as well as increased musculature. Despite the variance of body structure, all cases share a belief that their body is simply “average”. Aside from these physical traits, the main and most outstanding trait is their tendency to become associated with conventionally exciting and unique circumstances. These circumstances will often develop at a certain age after a significant event. For most cases, this trait will only develop after a significant loss (most commonly one or both parents). Following this event, the individual will be “visited”. The time between the significant event and the “visit” varies, however most cases will be between a week and a year. This visit will usually manifest as an unknown person or entity claiming to have some relationship with the individuals family. Due to the nature of the effects, it is unknown if this fact is true or was altered to be as such. Following the “visit” life events may vary with detail. Treatment Those affected by Protogenia will suffer life long effects, however like any other chronic illness, these effects can be lessened or avoided entirely. If a patient has not undergone the significant event yet, they can entire prevent their condition from developing by stopping any new significant event from happening. While this is proven to avoid further development of the condition, it has never been reported to work forever. Due to a new study by R. E. Allan, the life events of a patient may be dependent on the severity of the significant event. As a new method treatment, an individual may indirectly cause the life event in order to maintain a degree of control on the severity of their life story. Examples include: the death of a pet, the loss of a friend, or a movement from one’s childhood home. However, if the patient doesn’t strictly cause these events by purposeful negligence and instead directly causes them, they may develop Antagonitis (see further notes for details). If the life event has already happened, further developments can be avoided by rejecting anything considered “abnormal” (definitions of such may vary). To do this, most patients will purposefully ignore any unusual circumstances, ignore those in troubled conditions, possible love interests, and going outside at night. References The History of Protogenia, A. P. Smith Magic Mold, B. C. Anderson Life with Protogenia, R. P. Person
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	Ulceritis Seratis (Creeping Rot) Ulceritis Seratis is the causative agent of the infectious disease known as Creeping Rot referred to as C-Rot [1]. C-Rot normally affects the extremities of exposed individuals resulting in the decay and decomposition of human flesh [2]. Surgical amputation of affected areas is the only current treatment [citation needed]. Untreated, C-rot results will normally result in sepsis and death. Case fatality rate for untreated individuals is 100% [3]. First documented on Zephyr-9, a hydrogen mining facility inadvertently aerosolized the Ulceritis Seratis particles resulting in complete contamination of the facility and the deaths of all inhabitants [4]. No full-scale contamination has occurred since the Zephyr-9 incident with following exposures limited to individual cases often associated with laboratory and field survey of planets within the Zephyr system [5]. The biology of Ulceritis Seratis classifies the particles as class-9 alien bacterial-like [6]. Similar mineral-based bacteria such as Crysosia Crysosia and Inferim Petuculus do not result in human-infection, but have resulted in similar contamination among reptilian species [7]. Research is ongoing; however, due to the limited nature of contamination and infection, the ISPC has rated the agent as low-priority resulting in no scheduled vaccination or treatment options [8]. References [1] Grant, Xi Long. Ulceritis Seratis: Clinical Definition, 2245 [2] Phillips, Harold. Treatment options: Ulceritis Seratis, 2243 [3] Counsel on Inter-dimensional Disease. Ulceritis Seratis: Epidemiology and Intervention, 2252 [5] Mining Division - Federal Arms. Security Briefing: Zephyr System, 2250 [6] Counsel on Inter-dimensional Disease. Classifications per NC435 treatise, 2231 [7] Axstyrs. Disease among Ghrsiof Colonists, 2253 [8] ISPC. Research Prioritization Schedule, 2254	The Makkipodo. On a planet far away from anything really, is a beast called the Makkipodo. It lives a solitary life not often mingling with other Makkipodos. The creature stands about twenty feet tall at its full height, but is often found using both sets of limbs to propel it along the ground. These limbs have a strange woodiness seeming to be covered in some sort of bark, that cracks and creaks as it strides over the ground. It is thought that this is a protective element against the swampy environment these beasts favour. Anything that thinks to bite at the legs, will get a mouthful of bark and splinters for its trouble. The Makkipodo has a large shovel-like mouth that it uses to scoop up the swampy water that it walks through, filtering out small plants and insects that it uses for nutrients. It has something similar to whale baleen, (See entry for Whales) that makes this process easier. In length, the head is about the size of a horse's, though almost as wide as it is long. The legs are double-jointed and spindly, bound completely with the bark as previously mentioned. Its body is long and thin, curled around and around, with marks that could have once been vestigial limbs, or perhaps given their shape, mouths. There is reason to believe that the Makkipodo was once an aquatic creature, but given the changing environment evolved legs and the ability to breathe the air around it. It still must use the filters that it developed in the water, however, as the planet's air is thick with particles and dust kicked up by the everpresent storms overhead. The storms never drop water, though the ground is mostly swamp, whatever liquid must come from inside. However, those filters are not the most fascinating thing about the Makkipodo. No, that is its great ability to mimic sound. It has many full sets of vocal cords, not commonly found together in one beast and uses them to great effect. But not for itself. The Makkipodo has a parasite (See entry below.) The Okamakidop. The Okamakidop only exists to live off the Makkipodo. It has no ability to survive on its own, and is passed from generation of Makkipodo to generation. Each Makkipodo has at least one Okamakidop in its life and may gain up to two. There seems to be no visible benefit to the Makkipodo, to hosting the Okamakidop so there is no firm evidence for a symbiotic parasitic relationship. However, a Makkipodo will quickly die if it is not gifted with an Okamakidop within three days after its birth. The Okamakidop is a small creature, seemingly all eyes and mouth, with none of the connective tissue you would expect between them. It is attached to the side of the Makkipodo with small hooks, like fine wires, that puncture the skin without drawing blood. While the Makkipodo is a peaceful herbivore/insectivore, the Okamakidop is an omnivore. It will eat anything and anyone that the Makkipodo can lure towards itself with the multitude of different sounds it can make. As soon as the creature is in range, the Okamakidop detaches itself and leaps, reducing whatever it was to a husk of its former self in an instant. No soft tissue remains, and even some exoskeletons have been destroyed. When the Okamakidop has been sated it returns to the Makkipodo and they go on their quiet way. This duo is deadly when working together, which means that both the Makkipodo and Okamakidop should be avoided at all costs, and any sounds you believe to be your friends, your family, a lost animal, or an animal in heat should be summarily ignored. ———————— Visit r/Mel_Rose_Writes for more writing!
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	The Gooblin Gooblins (goblina ectoplasimca) are a rare sub-species of both the Goblin and the Slime family. Not naturally born in the wild from parents, gooblins are created when a goblin (goblina mundana) encounters a slime (ectoplasmica mundana) and instead of the violent demise of one of the creatures, they merge together, creating a symbiotic link. The diet of gooblins resembles more closely that of a slime than that of a goblin, partially due to their inability to use their mouth to consume food^((1)), rather relying on breaking the food down on the molecular level in its slime. Gooblins are unable to process refined sugars, however, unlike their un-modified precursors. The current reason for this allergy is unknown. Gooblins are known to have a particular proclivity towards cheese, often storing it in their dwelling (typically a cave) and aggressively protecting it. Some have also shown a liking for alcohol, often finding it either in fermenting fruit or stealing it from human or goblin camps. Unlike goblins, who live a highly social life and operate in tribes, gooblins are solitary and rarely leave their dwelling for a purpose other than obtaining more food^((2)). As gooblins are not created by typical procreation, they do not need to mate, further limiting their need to leave their caves, though some have been recorded to behave cordially towards visitors. More typically, however, intruders are killed and eaten^((3)). Most curious aspect of the gooblin is their ability to operate machinery and technology^((4)) when given the opportunity to do so. This suggests a higher-level cognitive ability, albeit reserved for these operations exclusively and not other tasks such as problem-solving. There is currently no known reason for this ability considering that neither goblins nor slimes possess it. &#x200B; References: 1. The Life Cycle of Peculiar Animals by Petri Flomdiss 2. Creatures of the World by Caco D. Dorkly 3. Animal Psychology by Skelli W. Azorius 4. Technological Advancements in Animal Kingdoms by Lily Rats, Esq	The Makkipodo. On a planet far away from anything really, is a beast called the Makkipodo. It lives a solitary life not often mingling with other Makkipodos. The creature stands about twenty feet tall at its full height, but is often found using both sets of limbs to propel it along the ground. These limbs have a strange woodiness seeming to be covered in some sort of bark, that cracks and creaks as it strides over the ground. It is thought that this is a protective element against the swampy environment these beasts favour. Anything that thinks to bite at the legs, will get a mouthful of bark and splinters for its trouble. The Makkipodo has a large shovel-like mouth that it uses to scoop up the swampy water that it walks through, filtering out small plants and insects that it uses for nutrients. It has something similar to whale baleen, (See entry for Whales) that makes this process easier. In length, the head is about the size of a horse's, though almost as wide as it is long. The legs are double-jointed and spindly, bound completely with the bark as previously mentioned. Its body is long and thin, curled around and around, with marks that could have once been vestigial limbs, or perhaps given their shape, mouths. There is reason to believe that the Makkipodo was once an aquatic creature, but given the changing environment evolved legs and the ability to breathe the air around it. It still must use the filters that it developed in the water, however, as the planet's air is thick with particles and dust kicked up by the everpresent storms overhead. The storms never drop water, though the ground is mostly swamp, whatever liquid must come from inside. However, those filters are not the most fascinating thing about the Makkipodo. No, that is its great ability to mimic sound. It has many full sets of vocal cords, not commonly found together in one beast and uses them to great effect. But not for itself. The Makkipodo has a parasite (See entry below.) The Okamakidop. The Okamakidop only exists to live off the Makkipodo. It has no ability to survive on its own, and is passed from generation of Makkipodo to generation. Each Makkipodo has at least one Okamakidop in its life and may gain up to two. There seems to be no visible benefit to the Makkipodo, to hosting the Okamakidop so there is no firm evidence for a symbiotic parasitic relationship. However, a Makkipodo will quickly die if it is not gifted with an Okamakidop within three days after its birth. The Okamakidop is a small creature, seemingly all eyes and mouth, with none of the connective tissue you would expect between them. It is attached to the side of the Makkipodo with small hooks, like fine wires, that puncture the skin without drawing blood. While the Makkipodo is a peaceful herbivore/insectivore, the Okamakidop is an omnivore. It will eat anything and anyone that the Makkipodo can lure towards itself with the multitude of different sounds it can make. As soon as the creature is in range, the Okamakidop detaches itself and leaps, reducing whatever it was to a husk of its former self in an instant. No soft tissue remains, and even some exoskeletons have been destroyed. When the Okamakidop has been sated it returns to the Makkipodo and they go on their quiet way. This duo is deadly when working together, which means that both the Makkipodo and Okamakidop should be avoided at all costs, and any sounds you believe to be your friends, your family, a lost animal, or an animal in heat should be summarily ignored. ———————— Visit r/Mel_Rose_Writes for more writing!
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	The Somaspore The Somaspore is a most peculiar creature that is found in varying dimensions and habitats across the multi-verse; this creature is truly a wonder of reproductive science. For this reason, one should take great care when spotting or handling a Somaspore and familiarize oneself with local laws and regulations regarding Somaspore policy (see Ethics and Legality section below). Overview The Somaspore, a sometimes plant-like sentient life form, is unique in that it is the only known carbon-based life form which demonstrates an ability to exist in various states of matter. That is to say, a Somaspore—while commonly found in nature as a tall, green-leafed plant resembling the hellebores of Earth 643—can exist in a gaseous state after heated at extreme temperatures and retain its sentience and organic conditioning. After transitioning to a gaseous state, the Somaspore particles spread through the air until a suitable rooting area is identified. Nutrition While most plants obtain nutrients from the soil, Somaspores are carnivorous. One may be quick to note a distinct lack of mandible or teeth present on the Somaspore and wonder how this creature may consume organic matter. That is where the Somaspore’s journey becomes most fascinating. The Somaspore has no natural predators, though many creatures have evolved to crave the Somaspore in its gaseous state. That is to say, creatures will intentionally round up Somaspores, light them on fire, and inhale the creature in its gaseous state. This practice may appear barbaric to some, but this symbiotic relationship is critical to the Somaspore’s survival and fecundity. Upon entering a creature’s lungs, the Somaspore then enters the blood stream of the inhalant creature and finally penetrates the blood-brain barrier. The Somaspore then—temporarily—takes control of the inhalant being. The Somaspore triggers pathways in the inhalant creature’s brain which cause hunger. As the host creature consumes nutrients, the Somaspore is able to leech nourishment. Side-Effects While this may sound like a parasitic relationship, that couldn’t be further from the truth. In exchange for nutrients and control, the inhalant creature receives a flood of dopamine to their receptor cells and a feeling of peace and relaxation overcomes the inhalant creature. For this reason, many creatures on which the Somaspore relies are referred to as “chill dudes and dudettes.” Although, one would err to assume that there are no negative side effects to a host. Often, the host will exhibit signs of cognitive fatigue or dullness for many days after consuming the Somaspore. Moreover, creatures who make a habit of consuming the Somaspore are often unproductive and listless. After a time, the Somaspore will exit the host’s system and move itself toward a suitable planting location to begin the process of returning to its solid state. Ethics and Legality Because of these benefits to inhalant creatures, many have evolved to “farm” Somaspores. For this reason, the Somaspore is one of the most abundant carbon based life forms throughout the known multi-verse. Although, the act of farming a sentient being does not sit well with environmental and animal rights groups alike. There is litigation currently pending in the Inter-Dimensional Supreme Court to severely limit or eliminate the practice altogether. Others still posit that the consumption of the Somaspore is unethical and damaging to inhalant creature’s health. Scientists, however, are consistent on this matter—the Somaspore has evolved* to be burned and consumed and it’s proliferation across dimensions is a sign that the creature is thriving and a fine example of natural selection. Moreover, the feelings evoked by the Somaspore gas are pretty damn nice** there is litigation pending in the Inter-Dimensional Supreme Court which looks to stop scientists from using the words “evolved, “evolution,” or any other derivations thereof. *this does not necessarily reflect the ideas or beliefs held by the Publishers of The Beastiary of the Multiverse, available now wherever you buy books. Or available for download as an audiobook narrated by Sir David Attenborough. Download today! _______________ Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	The Makkipodo. On a planet far away from anything really, is a beast called the Makkipodo. It lives a solitary life not often mingling with other Makkipodos. The creature stands about twenty feet tall at its full height, but is often found using both sets of limbs to propel it along the ground. These limbs have a strange woodiness seeming to be covered in some sort of bark, that cracks and creaks as it strides over the ground. It is thought that this is a protective element against the swampy environment these beasts favour. Anything that thinks to bite at the legs, will get a mouthful of bark and splinters for its trouble. The Makkipodo has a large shovel-like mouth that it uses to scoop up the swampy water that it walks through, filtering out small plants and insects that it uses for nutrients. It has something similar to whale baleen, (See entry for Whales) that makes this process easier. In length, the head is about the size of a horse's, though almost as wide as it is long. The legs are double-jointed and spindly, bound completely with the bark as previously mentioned. Its body is long and thin, curled around and around, with marks that could have once been vestigial limbs, or perhaps given their shape, mouths. There is reason to believe that the Makkipodo was once an aquatic creature, but given the changing environment evolved legs and the ability to breathe the air around it. It still must use the filters that it developed in the water, however, as the planet's air is thick with particles and dust kicked up by the everpresent storms overhead. The storms never drop water, though the ground is mostly swamp, whatever liquid must come from inside. However, those filters are not the most fascinating thing about the Makkipodo. No, that is its great ability to mimic sound. It has many full sets of vocal cords, not commonly found together in one beast and uses them to great effect. But not for itself. The Makkipodo has a parasite (See entry below.) The Okamakidop. The Okamakidop only exists to live off the Makkipodo. It has no ability to survive on its own, and is passed from generation of Makkipodo to generation. Each Makkipodo has at least one Okamakidop in its life and may gain up to two. There seems to be no visible benefit to the Makkipodo, to hosting the Okamakidop so there is no firm evidence for a symbiotic parasitic relationship. However, a Makkipodo will quickly die if it is not gifted with an Okamakidop within three days after its birth. The Okamakidop is a small creature, seemingly all eyes and mouth, with none of the connective tissue you would expect between them. It is attached to the side of the Makkipodo with small hooks, like fine wires, that puncture the skin without drawing blood. While the Makkipodo is a peaceful herbivore/insectivore, the Okamakidop is an omnivore. It will eat anything and anyone that the Makkipodo can lure towards itself with the multitude of different sounds it can make. As soon as the creature is in range, the Okamakidop detaches itself and leaps, reducing whatever it was to a husk of its former self in an instant. No soft tissue remains, and even some exoskeletons have been destroyed. When the Okamakidop has been sated it returns to the Makkipodo and they go on their quiet way. This duo is deadly when working together, which means that both the Makkipodo and Okamakidop should be avoided at all costs, and any sounds you believe to be your friends, your family, a lost animal, or an animal in heat should be summarily ignored. ———————— Visit r/Mel_Rose_Writes for more writing!
	[WP] The Bestiary of the Multiverse is a really, really thick book. Updated every two days. It works like a wierd magical Wikipedia, really. You are the mod, and sometimes find real gems between all of the mundane animals. Write your favorite page of this bestiary.	The Gooblin Gooblins (goblina ectoplasimca) are a rare sub-species of both the Goblin and the Slime family. Not naturally born in the wild from parents, gooblins are created when a goblin (goblina mundana) encounters a slime (ectoplasmica mundana) and instead of the violent demise of one of the creatures, they merge together, creating a symbiotic link. The diet of gooblins resembles more closely that of a slime than that of a goblin, partially due to their inability to use their mouth to consume food^((1)), rather relying on breaking the food down on the molecular level in its slime. Gooblins are unable to process refined sugars, however, unlike their un-modified precursors. The current reason for this allergy is unknown. Gooblins are known to have a particular proclivity towards cheese, often storing it in their dwelling (typically a cave) and aggressively protecting it. Some have also shown a liking for alcohol, often finding it either in fermenting fruit or stealing it from human or goblin camps. Unlike goblins, who live a highly social life and operate in tribes, gooblins are solitary and rarely leave their dwelling for a purpose other than obtaining more food^((2)). As gooblins are not created by typical procreation, they do not need to mate, further limiting their need to leave their caves, though some have been recorded to behave cordially towards visitors. More typically, however, intruders are killed and eaten^((3)). Most curious aspect of the gooblin is their ability to operate machinery and technology^((4)) when given the opportunity to do so. This suggests a higher-level cognitive ability, albeit reserved for these operations exclusively and not other tasks such as problem-solving. There is currently no known reason for this ability considering that neither goblins nor slimes possess it. &#x200B; References: 1. The Life Cycle of Peculiar Animals by Petri Flomdiss 2. Creatures of the World by Caco D. Dorkly 3. Animal Psychology by Skelli W. Azorius 4. Technological Advancements in Animal Kingdoms by Lily Rats, Esq	Ulceritis Seratis (Creeping Rot) Ulceritis Seratis is the causative agent of the infectious disease known as Creeping Rot referred to as C-Rot [1]. C-Rot normally affects the extremities of exposed individuals resulting in the decay and decomposition of human flesh [2]. Surgical amputation of affected areas is the only current treatment [citation needed]. Untreated, C-rot results will normally result in sepsis and death. Case fatality rate for untreated individuals is 100% [3]. First documented on Zephyr-9, a hydrogen mining facility inadvertently aerosolized the Ulceritis Seratis particles resulting in complete contamination of the facility and the deaths of all inhabitants [4]. No full-scale contamination has occurred since the Zephyr-9 incident with following exposures limited to individual cases often associated with laboratory and field survey of planets within the Zephyr system [5]. The biology of Ulceritis Seratis classifies the particles as class-9 alien bacterial-like [6]. Similar mineral-based bacteria such as Crysosia Crysosia and Inferim Petuculus do not result in human-infection, but have resulted in similar contamination among reptilian species [7]. Research is ongoing; however, due to the limited nature of contamination and infection, the ISPC has rated the agent as low-priority resulting in no scheduled vaccination or treatment options [8]. References [1] Grant, Xi Long. Ulceritis Seratis: Clinical Definition, 2245 [2] Phillips, Harold. Treatment options: Ulceritis Seratis, 2243 [3] Counsel on Inter-dimensional Disease. Ulceritis Seratis: Epidemiology and Intervention, 2252 [5] Mining Division - Federal Arms. Security Briefing: Zephyr System, 2250 [6] Counsel on Inter-dimensional Disease. Classifications per NC435 treatise, 2231 [7] Axstyrs. Disease among Ghrsiof Colonists, 2253 [8] ISPC. Research Prioritization Schedule, 2254
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	The first apocalypse was the worst. It wasn't just the shock of death and destruction, it's the toll it takes. The first battle that ends in loss. The first time you fight for your life. The first loss of love. When we managed to destroy the evil, we knew relief. We knew mourning, we knew loss, but we also knew peace. For the first time in a long time, we rebuilt. Rebuilt our homes, our cities and our lives. And when the earth shook asecond time, our fear gave way to hope. Evil had been awoken once before, but it had been dealt with. There was no search for a weapon, no late night journeys setting watch for enemy attacks. We saw the enemy and we had the power of heroes. I had an inkling then, but I ignored it. Not just the potential for loss, but the fear that this was another in a series. Cities fell and the deaths were in the thousands, but we fought back. We triumphed over evil (as was right) and though we were made a little less, we set ourselves back on the path to peace. Only evil showed itself, again and again. A necromancer's spirit awakened when graverobbers disturbed his tomb. A world-eater summoned by a rogue wizard. And again we cut them down, losing bits of ourselves and our lives in the process. A wife. A son. And, finally, hope. The hot breath of victory gave way to a numbness. An inevitability that this was not the last. So I say let it end. Let the hereafter come and let us meet it. Whether it be the warm embrace of loved ones long past or a cold dark nothing, I welcome it. I gave all I had to the fight. And like a greedy pig, it took it all. I have nothing left. So I welcome the end.	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	"Please, Ser Alfred. No one else can defeat this beast. Others have tried, many others, and all have failed. You alone can bring this conflict to an end." "No," the old man replied. He lifted a poker and stoked the fire, choosing to look at it, rather than the man pleading before him. "I've told you twice now. I'll not tell you again. I am done." "I- but-" the younger man began. "Very well, Ser Alfred. Thank you for your time." "Aye." The old man felt the young diplomat hesitate before turning, as though contemplating whether he should plead his case just one more time. Ser Alfred soon felt the chill of the cold air outside of his cabin, and it wasn't until he heard the slam of his door before he looked away from the fire. "Damn." Ser Alfred returned to the fire, stoking it once more with the poker before dropping the iron to the floor in frustration. He reached across the fire and retrieved from it the kettle, hardly feeling the flames on the skin of his bare hand, and poured the water over the leaves in his mug. --------- "Damn." Ser Alfred swore as he struggled with the buckles. He hadn't bothered with the peg leg in years; a boy from the village down the way brought whatever supplies he needed in exchange for a few copper pieces every other week, and he had long since modified his cabin to be able to get around with only his right leg. With only the thumb and index finger of his left hand, manipulating the buckles was quite the challenge. The damage to the muscles of his forearm meant most of his strength in that arm had waned. That he used the arm to support himself around the cabin was the one thing keeping the muscles of that arm from atrophy since his retirement. Ser Alfred finally stood, on two legs for the first time in over a dozen seasons. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, the stub of his leg no longer accustomed to bearing his weight, as he took a few tentative steps around his cabin. After a brief walk around the cabin, he snatched his walking stick from its place by the door and stepped out into the cold. Even with the walking stick, Ser Alfred struggled on his walk, muttering a curse here or there as a new ache or pain flared up. The walk took three times as long as the last time, he figured, but at long last, he came to the clearing where he knew he would find the flowers he sought. Despite the chill, he hoped he'd find what he was looking for. "Damn." He finally found what he was looking for, but there were no flowers. The shrub had been eaten by foraging animals, and appeared to have been eaten to the stems. Ser Alfred rolled his eye and looked up briefly before closing his eye. "Damn." Ser Alfred winced as he kneeled before the shrub. He brought his hand before him and murmured a quiet prayer. As he prayed, a light emanated from within him and slowly enveloped the shrub. After a few seconds, the shrub, initially just a few sticks barely worth calling kindling, began to heal. It started with the branches, the bark healing where it was torn, new bark appearing where it was missing. New branches grew, thickening the shrub, and leaves began to sprout from old and new branches alike. Finally, flowers appeared and bloomed on the branches, and the light faded from the shrub. At last, Ser Alfred opened his eye. He reached into the furs covering him and produced from his waist a thin blade, curved and with a razor's edge on the inside of the curve. He placed the edge of the blade at the base of one of the flowers and pulled, slicing the stem from the shrub. He did this three more times, allowing four flowers to fall to the ground before him. His job done, he secured the blade to his belt again before reaching out to the plant. "Thank you for your sacrifice," he said, touching the wound left by his blade. A small bit of the light from within him brightened his finger where it touched the plant, healing the wound. He repeated this once for each of the flowers he cut from the plant, and the light faded from within him. After collecting the flowers, he pushed himself to standing, his back popping from the effort. The walk back to the cabin took half the time. --------- Mikhail was tending the chickens on his parents' farm when the raven landed. It wasn't so odd that a raven should land here; ravens weren't particularly uncommon in this land. What was odd was that it would be this particular raven, coming at this unusual time. The young boy eyed the raven for a moment, then nodded before continuing his chores. As though it understood, the raven flew away. A short while later, the chickens fed and the coop cleaned, the boy entered his home. "Mum, Ser Alfred has sent for me." --------- As Mikhail approached the old man's cabin, he noticed that the piles of rocks next to it had roses of winter on them, one on each. He paused at this; he knew at once this wasn't simply a request for supplies. Although he was too young to have seen the old man fight, he'd heard the tales, knew of the legends. He also knew of the danger threatening his village. The boy shook his head; the answers to his questions were on the other side of that door. He reached up and knocked before reaching for the handle, but before he could open the door, it opened from within, and Ser Alfred greeted him. It was possibly the first time the boy saw the old knight properly groomed. "You're here. Good. Come in." Ser Alfred stepped to the side to allow the boy in, and at once, Mikhail knew. Scattered around the one chair in the cabin lay the old knight's armor. Although it lay disused in a chest, there wasn't a sign of rot on the leather or rust on the plate. "You're going to fight?" the boy asked, unable to take his eyes from the evidence before him. "Aye." Ser Alfred stepped away from the door and approached the armor, stepping into the leather pants that would protect his legs from the hardened plates he would soon don, with the boy's help. "But... why? I thought you'd stopped, I thought... I thought you were done," the boy said, finally looking at the old knight. "Aye, so did I lad. So did I." --------- For each piece of armor the pair strapped to Ser Alfred, the old man could feel his strength returning to him. After a half hour's work, the boy looked in awe at the knight, having never seen him dressed for battle. In that moment, Ser Alfred looked ready for war. "I'll need you to prepare Elonzie for me. I know you've taken good care of her; I could always smell her on you when you brought supplies, before you left. Brush her well, say your peace, then saddle her. There is a quiver outside her stable, I'll need you to mount that on the saddle along side the scabbard. I have a few more things to attend to before I leave, so if you're quick, you might have time for a quick ride." "O-of course, Ser Alfred, thank you, right away, sir!" The boy turned step out the door, but the old knight's voice halted him. "Mikhail," the old knight called out, "thank you for helping all this time. I know I've been an insufferable bastard, so I'm... I'm sorry for that." The boy struggled to think of a response, but before one could form, Ser Alfred threw open a trap door in the floor of his cabin and disappeared down a flight of stairs. It wouldn't be quite fair to call the room Ser Alfred kept beneath his cabin an armory; there were quite a few weapons in it, but they were not well kept, and only a couple of them would actually see use. Ser Alfred threw open a chest and dug through, pulling from it a longbow and quiver, and slung both over his shoulder. He pulled a spare string from the chest as well, and tied it as best he could to the straps of the quiver. He stepped over to a wall, approaching the only two things displayed in this room, a sword and a shield. He slipped his left arm through the harness before placing the stump of his right arm into the straps and tightening them. He didn't tighten them all the way, not just yet. For now, he merely needed to carry the shield; when the time came to use it, he would tighten it again. With the shield secured, he reached out for the sword, and as soon as his finger and thumb wrapped around the blade, he felt a power surge through him he hadn't felt in far too long. He leaned his head back and relished the feeling a moment before sheathing the blade at his side. Finally, the old knight sought three things he felt almost unlikely to find, at this point. Surprised to have found them, he dipped the quill into the inkpot and began writing. ---------	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	They said it so often during those horrible times. 'Hero' they would say, all smiles and joy. I saw it on the news, in online articles, heard it on the lips of every radio DJ. Yet I never believed a word of it. I just suited up, put on the mask, and braved the dangers every day. I was threatened. Villains who were convinced of their righteousness, willing to go to any length to get their way, cost to those around them be damned. Many others tried to fight this battle. So often they fell victim, always calling on the chosen one, as they called me. I was just the one who answered the phone. Id come back to the battle again, tired and scarred from my own bouts against this scourge. "No. Im staying home. Get someone else to cover your 'essential worker' cashiering job tonight. You didnt even pay for our sick time, none of you managers were willing to step up when I got sick. Fight your own damn battles this time. Im going back to bed." I would hear about the 'devastation' for weeks, how a manager who pushed every possible barrier to make me work alone overnight at a gas station had to cover a workers shift for the first time in years. Threats to my hours would soon follow. Yet I did not care. They forced me to treat my job like my world, and I the hero who had to save it every day from COVID. The bad guys won. Im tired. Let my world burn.	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	"I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times to many. \_\_\_\_\_ When this first started for me, I was eager. Children like to grow up hearing stories of heroes saving the day, battling against terrible odds so that we may all see the next sunrise. I was no different. To be given the chance to be that hero, to be the storied figure that many would tell for generations spoke to my inner child. Those days roaming around the fields slaying imaginary monsters with a simple stick I had found lying somewhere around seems lifetimes ago now. Training was not for the weak hearted. Every dawn I was to report to the arms master to train for every weapon could feasibly use in the foreseeable future. I trained in swords, spears, longbows, crossbows, shields, magic, even bare handed if you could believe it. For years this routine would dominate much of my younger life. I have sadly lost many childhood friendships during these years. the pressures of my destiny and the demands of my labor leaving me with little time. Still, I made new bonds with those I trained alongside with. In the beginning was never alone. I was surrounded with like minded individuals, or those who I believed to be cut from purer cloth than I. We laughed, we cried, we complained, and we trained. We talked about who we once were, who we wanted to be, what we were proud of, and sometimes what we were ashamed of. It was like finding a new family to me. When our training was complete, we were blessed with long life. Then the fated day, and many of us took up arms to defend against many dangers. Many of us had fallen in battle, each one dying an honorable death. We mourned, we grieved, and we moved on together. Then the next fated day arrived. The the next one. Then the next. I've lost count of how many 'fated days' there have been now, each one leaving us with less than the last. With the end of each day, I found myself gazing at those we protected, and the pride in their eyes. I would see the eyes of the children and see the wonder in their eyes. To them, we were living legends. We were heroes. Even when the burden of being heroes grew heavy on us. those eyes would remind us of why we fought, and calm our doubts. We were heroes. Sadly, time is merciless. Those children would grow up and have children of their own. Then the same would happen to those children and those children's children. Over time, I would see the wonder in the adults turn dull overtime. No longer did the people understand the weight of our sacred duty, no longer did the people understand our struggles. They no longer understood our purpose. Though few in number, I had began to look to my fellow heroes for support. Eventually, I was the last hero. So many deserved to be standing here today, yet none will. I returned to find the people seeing my return with the eyes of complacency. They had relied on the heroes for so long, I wondered if they had lost the ability to face the dangers themselves. Was I all that stood between them and destruction? Was I the last hero? A hero was to never falter, to stand firm as a defiant light against the encroaching darkness. A hero was to be the paragon of justice, the pillar of peace whose very name becomes synonymous with righteousness. Ideals meant for the ideal hero. I had realized that, after all these years, I was not not the ideal hero. \_\_\_\_\_ "I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times too many.	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	“Hey, James, we finally found you!” shouted a young woman. Standing with her were two older men and a younger boy. “My father will be glad to see your face again. He says none of the other heroes that came after you can compare themselves to you.” The former hero sighed as he turned his wheelchair to the four intruders. A blanket covered his body from the chest down. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with intruders. Word had gotten around that he had grown soft and weak. The graves in his backyard beg to differ. But James couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the same man he was before. With a hoarse voice, he asked, “What do you want?” “Do you remember us, sir?” the boy asked. “You saved our city from that evil robot.” James let out a chuckle as he reminisced about the fight. That was during his earlier years. An owner of a social media site tried to use an AI algorithm to remove all of the bots on his website. Naturally, the AI declared war on humanity. The AI had seen Age of Ultron and decided to crash a city on the planet to send Earth into a new ice age. And who had to face the brunt of T-Bot’s and its metal army’s fists and lasers. He did. Of course, James saved the day, and the planet made memes. What a joke. “I believe so,” James said. “Was it New York?” “It was Philadelphia,” the young woman said. “I’m Rachel, and this is my brother Zack. Those two are my boyfriend and his friend, Mike and Josh.” The four waved at their hero. James did not. “If you’re here for autographs, I have a paper and pen in my drawer,” he said. “I got this, babe,” Mike said. “With all due respect, sir, but I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately or stepped outside.” “What about it?” “The sun is about to burn this planet to a crisp.” James looked back at Mike deadpanned. “What about it?” “It was prophesied that….” “I’ll launch my body into the sun and restart its core. Yeah, the 2062 doomsday prophecy,” James said with disdain. “Prophecy… fuck prophecy. Apologies to the little one, ‘fudge’ prophecy. Becca says I shouldn’t curse in front of kids.” The room was silent after he talked. Zack was on the verge of tears. Rachel turned to Josh. “Hey, can you take my brother near the entrance for me?” Josh nodded and grabbed Zack’s hand. The young boy looked back to his hero, hoping to meet his gaze. When the two were out of earshot, Rachel spoke, “Are you going to help us or not?” James cocked his head as he let the question hang. “No.” “No?” the two of them said. “Are you hard of hearing, or do you need me to spell it out for you?” “What… but why, sir?” asked Mike. James rolled his eyes. This was why he didn’t deal with fans. “For the greater good. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Ever heard of that?” Mike slowly nodded his head. “That’s what I tell myself every time I fight for your planet. That your needs come before mine.” Mike moved his lips, but the words refused to come out. Rachel spoke. “The prophecy also said that it was impossible to kill you.” Immortality. James snorted. “How old do I look?” Mike blurted out, “About 25, sir.” With his right hand, he pulled his blanket, and the two of them gasped. James was in nothing but his shirt and underwear. But his wardrobe wasn’t the source of their shock. James’ skin suffered from second and third-degree burns from the neck down. Half of his right leg and left hand were gone, and the skin of his chest was exposed, a clear case showing his lungs and heart. “I’m 67,” James said. “My body, mind, and soul are the monument of the greater good.” “Oh my god,” Mike said. “But you have to save the planet,” Rachel pleaded. “I mean, it was foretold!” “Of course, I can save the planet.” James reached over to his keyboard and pressed a button. Images of a suit and spaceship filled the screen. “I have everything I need to save this piece of dirt.” “Then why aren’t you doing anything?” The two watched as his lungs expanded before shrinking back down. “There was a prophecy. It involved me playing the role of the antichrist so that humanity may go into Heaven. I asked why and He told me it was for the greater good. Bull-fucking-shit. “He didn’t like that much and knew what I was about to do. He tried to stop me, and I punched Him in the face. It shattered my left hand. After that, I hunted the Devil, killed him, and froze Hell over. Just so I didn’t have to fulfill that prophecy. That was the day I found out prophecies were bullshit.” “I- I don’t believe you,” Rachel said. “You can believe whatever you want,” James said. His heart started to beat faster with every word. “You would think God betraying me would be my breaking point, but it was when I found out that the US government made clones of me that broke me. All that pain and misery that I went through, the greater good, was for nothing. That was when my mind snapped, and I gave up on heroism. “So if you want a hero to save your asses, just walk over to the White House, knock on that door and ask for a clone to do my fucking...” His heart couldn’t take it anymore. James grabbed for his chest, but it was too late. He breathed one more time and slumped forward.	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	“No.” “Excuse me?” The man replied. He was giving me a look like he knew I was joking. I wasn’t. “I’m not doing it anymore. I want to live my life, get a job, start a family, go on trips. I don’t want to run around thwarting bank robbers and stopping murders. I don’t want to fix broken buildings or build new houses. I want a quiet job, maybe writing or something like that.” The man was fuming. I could envision the smoke pouring out of his bright red ears and floating up past his dirty blond hair. He licked his lips before he spoke, and his tongue looked like a thick pink slug rolling around his lips. “I don’t care what you want. This is what you need to do. It’s your job.” He said, his voice harsh with anger. I looked at him with a piercing gaze. Oh, how I wanted to strike him down. Would it really be that hard? Would it really be that bad? Probably not. “Well, since it my job, I can quit. So I quit.” There was a stunned silence for a moment, then I slowly turned and started to walk out of the office. When I got to the door, I turned around. He was just sitting there looking defeated. And as I walked out of the office, I felt lighter than I had in years. ————-///——————///—————— I haven’t written in months, so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!	The stunned silence, anticipated or not stretched on until the ashes dropped from the tip of the deeply inhaled cigarette. One could almost imagine the sizzle before they fell. Outside of my palm swiped heavily across my forehead, cool and slightly oily. The months long binge of hedonistic revelry had done my health no good. I stared into the night standing at the window space, as though distracted, unaffected by the palpable need radiating through the room. The represented delegation of local leaders stood uneasily, eyes seemingly hollowed out with their fear and dread. Studying the night, half smirked bravado fell into the room rather than pouring out in beams of confidence. How could they keep asking!? When did a hero get to stop with continuous proofs? It was going to be a long night, the imported fine scotch and tray of loose MMDA beckoned with promises of easier answers and lessened, higher musings. Nope. They need another patsy this time..
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	They said it so often during those horrible times. 'Hero' they would say, all smiles and joy. I saw it on the news, in online articles, heard it on the lips of every radio DJ. Yet I never believed a word of it. I just suited up, put on the mask, and braved the dangers every day. I was threatened. Villains who were convinced of their righteousness, willing to go to any length to get their way, cost to those around them be damned. Many others tried to fight this battle. So often they fell victim, always calling on the chosen one, as they called me. I was just the one who answered the phone. Id come back to the battle again, tired and scarred from my own bouts against this scourge. "No. Im staying home. Get someone else to cover your 'essential worker' cashiering job tonight. You didnt even pay for our sick time, none of you managers were willing to step up when I got sick. Fight your own damn battles this time. Im going back to bed." I would hear about the 'devastation' for weeks, how a manager who pushed every possible barrier to make me work alone overnight at a gas station had to cover a workers shift for the first time in years. Threats to my hours would soon follow. Yet I did not care. They forced me to treat my job like my world, and I the hero who had to save it every day from COVID. The bad guys won. Im tired. Let my world burn.	The first apocalypse was the worst. It wasn't just the shock of death and destruction, it's the toll it takes. The first battle that ends in loss. The first time you fight for your life. The first loss of love. When we managed to destroy the evil, we knew relief. We knew mourning, we knew loss, but we also knew peace. For the first time in a long time, we rebuilt. Rebuilt our homes, our cities and our lives. And when the earth shook asecond time, our fear gave way to hope. Evil had been awoken once before, but it had been dealt with. There was no search for a weapon, no late night journeys setting watch for enemy attacks. We saw the enemy and we had the power of heroes. I had an inkling then, but I ignored it. Not just the potential for loss, but the fear that this was another in a series. Cities fell and the deaths were in the thousands, but we fought back. We triumphed over evil (as was right) and though we were made a little less, we set ourselves back on the path to peace. Only evil showed itself, again and again. A necromancer's spirit awakened when graverobbers disturbed his tomb. A world-eater summoned by a rogue wizard. And again we cut them down, losing bits of ourselves and our lives in the process. A wife. A son. And, finally, hope. The hot breath of victory gave way to a numbness. An inevitability that this was not the last. So I say let it end. Let the hereafter come and let us meet it. Whether it be the warm embrace of loved ones long past or a cold dark nothing, I welcome it. I gave all I had to the fight. And like a greedy pig, it took it all. I have nothing left. So I welcome the end.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	"I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times to many. \_\_\_\_\_ When this first started for me, I was eager. Children like to grow up hearing stories of heroes saving the day, battling against terrible odds so that we may all see the next sunrise. I was no different. To be given the chance to be that hero, to be the storied figure that many would tell for generations spoke to my inner child. Those days roaming around the fields slaying imaginary monsters with a simple stick I had found lying somewhere around seems lifetimes ago now. Training was not for the weak hearted. Every dawn I was to report to the arms master to train for every weapon could feasibly use in the foreseeable future. I trained in swords, spears, longbows, crossbows, shields, magic, even bare handed if you could believe it. For years this routine would dominate much of my younger life. I have sadly lost many childhood friendships during these years. the pressures of my destiny and the demands of my labor leaving me with little time. Still, I made new bonds with those I trained alongside with. In the beginning was never alone. I was surrounded with like minded individuals, or those who I believed to be cut from purer cloth than I. We laughed, we cried, we complained, and we trained. We talked about who we once were, who we wanted to be, what we were proud of, and sometimes what we were ashamed of. It was like finding a new family to me. When our training was complete, we were blessed with long life. Then the fated day, and many of us took up arms to defend against many dangers. Many of us had fallen in battle, each one dying an honorable death. We mourned, we grieved, and we moved on together. Then the next fated day arrived. The the next one. Then the next. I've lost count of how many 'fated days' there have been now, each one leaving us with less than the last. With the end of each day, I found myself gazing at those we protected, and the pride in their eyes. I would see the eyes of the children and see the wonder in their eyes. To them, we were living legends. We were heroes. Even when the burden of being heroes grew heavy on us. those eyes would remind us of why we fought, and calm our doubts. We were heroes. Sadly, time is merciless. Those children would grow up and have children of their own. Then the same would happen to those children and those children's children. Over time, I would see the wonder in the adults turn dull overtime. No longer did the people understand the weight of our sacred duty, no longer did the people understand our struggles. They no longer understood our purpose. Though few in number, I had began to look to my fellow heroes for support. Eventually, I was the last hero. So many deserved to be standing here today, yet none will. I returned to find the people seeing my return with the eyes of complacency. They had relied on the heroes for so long, I wondered if they had lost the ability to face the dangers themselves. Was I all that stood between them and destruction? Was I the last hero? A hero was to never falter, to stand firm as a defiant light against the encroaching darkness. A hero was to be the paragon of justice, the pillar of peace whose very name becomes synonymous with righteousness. Ideals meant for the ideal hero. I had realized that, after all these years, I was not not the ideal hero. \_\_\_\_\_ "I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times too many.	The first apocalypse was the worst. It wasn't just the shock of death and destruction, it's the toll it takes. The first battle that ends in loss. The first time you fight for your life. The first loss of love. When we managed to destroy the evil, we knew relief. We knew mourning, we knew loss, but we also knew peace. For the first time in a long time, we rebuilt. Rebuilt our homes, our cities and our lives. And when the earth shook asecond time, our fear gave way to hope. Evil had been awoken once before, but it had been dealt with. There was no search for a weapon, no late night journeys setting watch for enemy attacks. We saw the enemy and we had the power of heroes. I had an inkling then, but I ignored it. Not just the potential for loss, but the fear that this was another in a series. Cities fell and the deaths were in the thousands, but we fought back. We triumphed over evil (as was right) and though we were made a little less, we set ourselves back on the path to peace. Only evil showed itself, again and again. A necromancer's spirit awakened when graverobbers disturbed his tomb. A world-eater summoned by a rogue wizard. And again we cut them down, losing bits of ourselves and our lives in the process. A wife. A son. And, finally, hope. The hot breath of victory gave way to a numbness. An inevitability that this was not the last. So I say let it end. Let the hereafter come and let us meet it. Whether it be the warm embrace of loved ones long past or a cold dark nothing, I welcome it. I gave all I had to the fight. And like a greedy pig, it took it all. I have nothing left. So I welcome the end.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	They said it so often during those horrible times. 'Hero' they would say, all smiles and joy. I saw it on the news, in online articles, heard it on the lips of every radio DJ. Yet I never believed a word of it. I just suited up, put on the mask, and braved the dangers every day. I was threatened. Villains who were convinced of their righteousness, willing to go to any length to get their way, cost to those around them be damned. Many others tried to fight this battle. So often they fell victim, always calling on the chosen one, as they called me. I was just the one who answered the phone. Id come back to the battle again, tired and scarred from my own bouts against this scourge. "No. Im staying home. Get someone else to cover your 'essential worker' cashiering job tonight. You didnt even pay for our sick time, none of you managers were willing to step up when I got sick. Fight your own damn battles this time. Im going back to bed." I would hear about the 'devastation' for weeks, how a manager who pushed every possible barrier to make me work alone overnight at a gas station had to cover a workers shift for the first time in years. Threats to my hours would soon follow. Yet I did not care. They forced me to treat my job like my world, and I the hero who had to save it every day from COVID. The bad guys won. Im tired. Let my world burn.	"Please, Ser Alfred. No one else can defeat this beast. Others have tried, many others, and all have failed. You alone can bring this conflict to an end." "No," the old man replied. He lifted a poker and stoked the fire, choosing to look at it, rather than the man pleading before him. "I've told you twice now. I'll not tell you again. I am done." "I- but-" the younger man began. "Very well, Ser Alfred. Thank you for your time." "Aye." The old man felt the young diplomat hesitate before turning, as though contemplating whether he should plead his case just one more time. Ser Alfred soon felt the chill of the cold air outside of his cabin, and it wasn't until he heard the slam of his door before he looked away from the fire. "Damn." Ser Alfred returned to the fire, stoking it once more with the poker before dropping the iron to the floor in frustration. He reached across the fire and retrieved from it the kettle, hardly feeling the flames on the skin of his bare hand, and poured the water over the leaves in his mug. --------- "Damn." Ser Alfred swore as he struggled with the buckles. He hadn't bothered with the peg leg in years; a boy from the village down the way brought whatever supplies he needed in exchange for a few copper pieces every other week, and he had long since modified his cabin to be able to get around with only his right leg. With only the thumb and index finger of his left hand, manipulating the buckles was quite the challenge. The damage to the muscles of his forearm meant most of his strength in that arm had waned. That he used the arm to support himself around the cabin was the one thing keeping the muscles of that arm from atrophy since his retirement. Ser Alfred finally stood, on two legs for the first time in over a dozen seasons. "Damn," he muttered under his breath, the stub of his leg no longer accustomed to bearing his weight, as he took a few tentative steps around his cabin. After a brief walk around the cabin, he snatched his walking stick from its place by the door and stepped out into the cold. Even with the walking stick, Ser Alfred struggled on his walk, muttering a curse here or there as a new ache or pain flared up. The walk took three times as long as the last time, he figured, but at long last, he came to the clearing where he knew he would find the flowers he sought. Despite the chill, he hoped he'd find what he was looking for. "Damn." He finally found what he was looking for, but there were no flowers. The shrub had been eaten by foraging animals, and appeared to have been eaten to the stems. Ser Alfred rolled his eye and looked up briefly before closing his eye. "Damn." Ser Alfred winced as he kneeled before the shrub. He brought his hand before him and murmured a quiet prayer. As he prayed, a light emanated from within him and slowly enveloped the shrub. After a few seconds, the shrub, initially just a few sticks barely worth calling kindling, began to heal. It started with the branches, the bark healing where it was torn, new bark appearing where it was missing. New branches grew, thickening the shrub, and leaves began to sprout from old and new branches alike. Finally, flowers appeared and bloomed on the branches, and the light faded from the shrub. At last, Ser Alfred opened his eye. He reached into the furs covering him and produced from his waist a thin blade, curved and with a razor's edge on the inside of the curve. He placed the edge of the blade at the base of one of the flowers and pulled, slicing the stem from the shrub. He did this three more times, allowing four flowers to fall to the ground before him. His job done, he secured the blade to his belt again before reaching out to the plant. "Thank you for your sacrifice," he said, touching the wound left by his blade. A small bit of the light from within him brightened his finger where it touched the plant, healing the wound. He repeated this once for each of the flowers he cut from the plant, and the light faded from within him. After collecting the flowers, he pushed himself to standing, his back popping from the effort. The walk back to the cabin took half the time. --------- Mikhail was tending the chickens on his parents' farm when the raven landed. It wasn't so odd that a raven should land here; ravens weren't particularly uncommon in this land. What was odd was that it would be this particular raven, coming at this unusual time. The young boy eyed the raven for a moment, then nodded before continuing his chores. As though it understood, the raven flew away. A short while later, the chickens fed and the coop cleaned, the boy entered his home. "Mum, Ser Alfred has sent for me." --------- As Mikhail approached the old man's cabin, he noticed that the piles of rocks next to it had roses of winter on them, one on each. He paused at this; he knew at once this wasn't simply a request for supplies. Although he was too young to have seen the old man fight, he'd heard the tales, knew of the legends. He also knew of the danger threatening his village. The boy shook his head; the answers to his questions were on the other side of that door. He reached up and knocked before reaching for the handle, but before he could open the door, it opened from within, and Ser Alfred greeted him. It was possibly the first time the boy saw the old knight properly groomed. "You're here. Good. Come in." Ser Alfred stepped to the side to allow the boy in, and at once, Mikhail knew. Scattered around the one chair in the cabin lay the old knight's armor. Although it lay disused in a chest, there wasn't a sign of rot on the leather or rust on the plate. "You're going to fight?" the boy asked, unable to take his eyes from the evidence before him. "Aye." Ser Alfred stepped away from the door and approached the armor, stepping into the leather pants that would protect his legs from the hardened plates he would soon don, with the boy's help. "But... why? I thought you'd stopped, I thought... I thought you were done," the boy said, finally looking at the old knight. "Aye, so did I lad. So did I." --------- For each piece of armor the pair strapped to Ser Alfred, the old man could feel his strength returning to him. After a half hour's work, the boy looked in awe at the knight, having never seen him dressed for battle. In that moment, Ser Alfred looked ready for war. "I'll need you to prepare Elonzie for me. I know you've taken good care of her; I could always smell her on you when you brought supplies, before you left. Brush her well, say your peace, then saddle her. There is a quiver outside her stable, I'll need you to mount that on the saddle along side the scabbard. I have a few more things to attend to before I leave, so if you're quick, you might have time for a quick ride." "O-of course, Ser Alfred, thank you, right away, sir!" The boy turned step out the door, but the old knight's voice halted him. "Mikhail," the old knight called out, "thank you for helping all this time. I know I've been an insufferable bastard, so I'm... I'm sorry for that." The boy struggled to think of a response, but before one could form, Ser Alfred threw open a trap door in the floor of his cabin and disappeared down a flight of stairs. It wouldn't be quite fair to call the room Ser Alfred kept beneath his cabin an armory; there were quite a few weapons in it, but they were not well kept, and only a couple of them would actually see use. Ser Alfred threw open a chest and dug through, pulling from it a longbow and quiver, and slung both over his shoulder. He pulled a spare string from the chest as well, and tied it as best he could to the straps of the quiver. He stepped over to a wall, approaching the only two things displayed in this room, a sword and a shield. He slipped his left arm through the harness before placing the stump of his right arm into the straps and tightening them. He didn't tighten them all the way, not just yet. For now, he merely needed to carry the shield; when the time came to use it, he would tighten it again. With the shield secured, he reached out for the sword, and as soon as his finger and thumb wrapped around the blade, he felt a power surge through him he hadn't felt in far too long. He leaned his head back and relished the feeling a moment before sheathing the blade at his side. Finally, the old knight sought three things he felt almost unlikely to find, at this point. Surprised to have found them, he dipped the quill into the inkpot and began writing. ---------
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	They said it so often during those horrible times. 'Hero' they would say, all smiles and joy. I saw it on the news, in online articles, heard it on the lips of every radio DJ. Yet I never believed a word of it. I just suited up, put on the mask, and braved the dangers every day. I was threatened. Villains who were convinced of their righteousness, willing to go to any length to get their way, cost to those around them be damned. Many others tried to fight this battle. So often they fell victim, always calling on the chosen one, as they called me. I was just the one who answered the phone. Id come back to the battle again, tired and scarred from my own bouts against this scourge. "No. Im staying home. Get someone else to cover your 'essential worker' cashiering job tonight. You didnt even pay for our sick time, none of you managers were willing to step up when I got sick. Fight your own damn battles this time. Im going back to bed." I would hear about the 'devastation' for weeks, how a manager who pushed every possible barrier to make me work alone overnight at a gas station had to cover a workers shift for the first time in years. Threats to my hours would soon follow. Yet I did not care. They forced me to treat my job like my world, and I the hero who had to save it every day from COVID. The bad guys won. Im tired. Let my world burn.	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	"I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times to many. \_\_\_\_\_ When this first started for me, I was eager. Children like to grow up hearing stories of heroes saving the day, battling against terrible odds so that we may all see the next sunrise. I was no different. To be given the chance to be that hero, to be the storied figure that many would tell for generations spoke to my inner child. Those days roaming around the fields slaying imaginary monsters with a simple stick I had found lying somewhere around seems lifetimes ago now. Training was not for the weak hearted. Every dawn I was to report to the arms master to train for every weapon could feasibly use in the foreseeable future. I trained in swords, spears, longbows, crossbows, shields, magic, even bare handed if you could believe it. For years this routine would dominate much of my younger life. I have sadly lost many childhood friendships during these years. the pressures of my destiny and the demands of my labor leaving me with little time. Still, I made new bonds with those I trained alongside with. In the beginning was never alone. I was surrounded with like minded individuals, or those who I believed to be cut from purer cloth than I. We laughed, we cried, we complained, and we trained. We talked about who we once were, who we wanted to be, what we were proud of, and sometimes what we were ashamed of. It was like finding a new family to me. When our training was complete, we were blessed with long life. Then the fated day, and many of us took up arms to defend against many dangers. Many of us had fallen in battle, each one dying an honorable death. We mourned, we grieved, and we moved on together. Then the next fated day arrived. The the next one. Then the next. I've lost count of how many 'fated days' there have been now, each one leaving us with less than the last. With the end of each day, I found myself gazing at those we protected, and the pride in their eyes. I would see the eyes of the children and see the wonder in their eyes. To them, we were living legends. We were heroes. Even when the burden of being heroes grew heavy on us. those eyes would remind us of why we fought, and calm our doubts. We were heroes. Sadly, time is merciless. Those children would grow up and have children of their own. Then the same would happen to those children and those children's children. Over time, I would see the wonder in the adults turn dull overtime. No longer did the people understand the weight of our sacred duty, no longer did the people understand our struggles. They no longer understood our purpose. Though few in number, I had began to look to my fellow heroes for support. Eventually, I was the last hero. So many deserved to be standing here today, yet none will. I returned to find the people seeing my return with the eyes of complacency. They had relied on the heroes for so long, I wondered if they had lost the ability to face the dangers themselves. Was I all that stood between them and destruction? Was I the last hero? A hero was to never falter, to stand firm as a defiant light against the encroaching darkness. A hero was to be the paragon of justice, the pillar of peace whose very name becomes synonymous with righteousness. Ideals meant for the ideal hero. I had realized that, after all these years, I was not not the ideal hero. \_\_\_\_\_ "I'll see you when this is all over." A simple phrase, one I have said many times too many.	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	“Hey, James, we finally found you!” shouted a young woman. Standing with her were two older men and a younger boy. “My father will be glad to see your face again. He says none of the other heroes that came after you can compare themselves to you.” The former hero sighed as he turned his wheelchair to the four intruders. A blanket covered his body from the chest down. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with intruders. Word had gotten around that he had grown soft and weak. The graves in his backyard beg to differ. But James couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the same man he was before. With a hoarse voice, he asked, “What do you want?” “Do you remember us, sir?” the boy asked. “You saved our city from that evil robot.” James let out a chuckle as he reminisced about the fight. That was during his earlier years. An owner of a social media site tried to use an AI algorithm to remove all of the bots on his website. Naturally, the AI declared war on humanity. The AI had seen Age of Ultron and decided to crash a city on the planet to send Earth into a new ice age. And who had to face the brunt of T-Bot’s and its metal army’s fists and lasers. He did. Of course, James saved the day, and the planet made memes. What a joke. “I believe so,” James said. “Was it New York?” “It was Philadelphia,” the young woman said. “I’m Rachel, and this is my brother Zack. Those two are my boyfriend and his friend, Mike and Josh.” The four waved at their hero. James did not. “If you’re here for autographs, I have a paper and pen in my drawer,” he said. “I got this, babe,” Mike said. “With all due respect, sir, but I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately or stepped outside.” “What about it?” “The sun is about to burn this planet to a crisp.” James looked back at Mike deadpanned. “What about it?” “It was prophesied that….” “I’ll launch my body into the sun and restart its core. Yeah, the 2062 doomsday prophecy,” James said with disdain. “Prophecy… fuck prophecy. Apologies to the little one, ‘fudge’ prophecy. Becca says I shouldn’t curse in front of kids.” The room was silent after he talked. Zack was on the verge of tears. Rachel turned to Josh. “Hey, can you take my brother near the entrance for me?” Josh nodded and grabbed Zack’s hand. The young boy looked back to his hero, hoping to meet his gaze. When the two were out of earshot, Rachel spoke, “Are you going to help us or not?” James cocked his head as he let the question hang. “No.” “No?” the two of them said. “Are you hard of hearing, or do you need me to spell it out for you?” “What… but why, sir?” asked Mike. James rolled his eyes. This was why he didn’t deal with fans. “For the greater good. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Ever heard of that?” Mike slowly nodded his head. “That’s what I tell myself every time I fight for your planet. That your needs come before mine.” Mike moved his lips, but the words refused to come out. Rachel spoke. “The prophecy also said that it was impossible to kill you.” Immortality. James snorted. “How old do I look?” Mike blurted out, “About 25, sir.” With his right hand, he pulled his blanket, and the two of them gasped. James was in nothing but his shirt and underwear. But his wardrobe wasn’t the source of their shock. James’ skin suffered from second and third-degree burns from the neck down. Half of his right leg and left hand were gone, and the skin of his chest was exposed, a clear case showing his lungs and heart. “I’m 67,” James said. “My body, mind, and soul are the monument of the greater good.” “Oh my god,” Mike said. “But you have to save the planet,” Rachel pleaded. “I mean, it was foretold!” “Of course, I can save the planet.” James reached over to his keyboard and pressed a button. Images of a suit and spaceship filled the screen. “I have everything I need to save this piece of dirt.” “Then why aren’t you doing anything?” The two watched as his lungs expanded before shrinking back down. “There was a prophecy. It involved me playing the role of the antichrist so that humanity may go into Heaven. I asked why and He told me it was for the greater good. Bull-fucking-shit. “He didn’t like that much and knew what I was about to do. He tried to stop me, and I punched Him in the face. It shattered my left hand. After that, I hunted the Devil, killed him, and froze Hell over. Just so I didn’t have to fulfill that prophecy. That was the day I found out prophecies were bullshit.” “I- I don’t believe you,” Rachel said. “You can believe whatever you want,” James said. His heart started to beat faster with every word. “You would think God betraying me would be my breaking point, but it was when I found out that the US government made clones of me that broke me. All that pain and misery that I went through, the greater good, was for nothing. That was when my mind snapped, and I gave up on heroism. “So if you want a hero to save your asses, just walk over to the White House, knock on that door and ask for a clone to do my fucking...” His heart couldn’t take it anymore. James grabbed for his chest, but it was too late. He breathed one more time and slumped forward.	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	“No.” “Excuse me?” The man replied. He was giving me a look like he knew I was joking. I wasn’t. “I’m not doing it anymore. I want to live my life, get a job, start a family, go on trips. I don’t want to run around thwarting bank robbers and stopping murders. I don’t want to fix broken buildings or build new houses. I want a quiet job, maybe writing or something like that.” The man was fuming. I could envision the smoke pouring out of his bright red ears and floating up past his dirty blond hair. He licked his lips before he spoke, and his tongue looked like a thick pink slug rolling around his lips. “I don’t care what you want. This is what you need to do. It’s your job.” He said, his voice harsh with anger. I looked at him with a piercing gaze. Oh, how I wanted to strike him down. Would it really be that hard? Would it really be that bad? Probably not. “Well, since it my job, I can quit. So I quit.” There was a stunned silence for a moment, then I slowly turned and started to walk out of the office. When I got to the door, I turned around. He was just sitting there looking defeated. And as I walked out of the office, I felt lighter than I had in years. ————-///——————///—————— I haven’t written in months, so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	As I stood in the mayor's office, listening to his wants to help the city, I began to think. I am so tired of being treated like this. I coke from a world of magic, and wonder. This place had none of that. And sure the Magium wasn't the best of the realms but it was home. I came here in order to help balance this unstable world. And what do I get? Nothing. That's what. Actually, I'm getting less than nothing. Everything I do for them is at my expense. What the fuck am I going to do with the key to the city? Nothing. At least pay me. But no, apparently "truly good people shouldn't want anythign back" well fuck that. I'm not a good person. Nobody is. You don't bite the hand that feeds you, lest you get struck. And that's what will happen for them. Crimes rates will increase, eiosmts may ensue. And hell, I'd probably join the villains side. At least they have a union. Me and my rival are pretty much actors, anyway. They kill some citizens, I stop them, we do it again the next week. We don't even hate each other, we actually hang out occasionally. "What do you mean 'no?'" the mayor asked. I sighed. "I mean no. Now, au revoir, you asshole." I said, gripping the air as if I was choking him. His throat began to close, feeling the effects of my power. I lifted him in the air, and closed my fist. There was a satisfying crunch, followed by the thud of the mayor hitting the ground, blood pooling out of his throat. There was an explosion, and my nemesis stepped into the hole the explosion had made. "I already killed him, Chara. No need to fight today. But they're probably going to hunt me down for this. So I have a proposition." I said, stepping over the mayor, and sitting in his chair. Chara nodded, intrigued. "I want to be your roommate. They'd easily find me with my current address. They've never found you before. And I'd even team up with you. And we'd get to go to that ice cream place more often. What do you say, Chara? Yes or no. Make your choice." I said, leaning in, a grin spreading across my face. Chara grinned back. "Of course. Just think of all we could do..."	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	"But we need you!" I crossed my arms, sitting in the cottage I called home. The spokesman was pale, standing up from his chair in horror. "I said I was done the last time. I meant it. So no, you can go back and say I'm not helping." The spokeman spluttered, tapping his scroll frantically. "But.... but.... but it will be the end of our world! The rising tide of corrupted treants and dryads will destroy all of our cities! Countless people will die!" I shrugged. "So? Every time I have helped, I have lost. Either something or someone precious. I have nothing left I am willing to give up. So find someone else to break themselves for you. I won't do it anymore." The spokesman stepped towards me, tightening his fist. The scroll crumpled in his grasp, the pale skin now turning red with anger. "You are always rewarded! How dare you not care anymore!" I slowly stood up. My long years of service had left me with a powerful body, one that made me stand over any ordinary person. "I said I'm done. Now leave, before I lose my temper." He shivered at the implication. I pointed to the door, letting him make the choice. After dithering for a moment he walked out, though he walked like he wanted to run. I watched him leave, before sighing. "Is that enough for you?" A potted plant on my windowsill twitched, before an ethereal voice rose from it. "That is enough assurance. You have my word your friends will be left unharmed by this transition." I relaxed, settling into my chair. It turns out the best action for me was inaction.	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	Selected excerpts from the journal of Earth’s greatest hero. 5/12/2000 I got my powers today. It was so cool flying around. I don’t know how I ever got by on foot before. I don’t care about getting my driver’s license anymore. Dad told me he’d help me learn to control my strength tomorrow. I need to pick out a hero name and outfit. Maybe mom can stitch something for me. 10/15/2000 Thwarted my first super villain today. Dad finally thought I had developed enough to come along on a call with him. Some villain had stolen nuclear secrets and was threatening to use them unless his demands were met. Dad ultimately was the one to take out the bad guy, but I did a lot to take down the henchmen. Looking forward to teaming up with Dad more and getting stronger. 2/14/2001 I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it. 5/17/2001 Being in love as a hero is hard. I never have time. I feel like no matter what I do, I always let someone down. Why do we hurt the ones we love? 9/4/2001 Got beat pretty badly today. Lucy told me she doesn’t know if she can take it. She worries about me too much when I’m out there. I told her she should see the other guy. Dad says it gets easier as we age, that Lucy will care less about the possibility I’ll die in service to the world as she learns more about me. Mom punched him in the shoulder. I love them. 8/6/2003 The happiest day of my life. Lucy and I are officially married. She wasn’t too happy that I had to leave the reception early to thwart a plot, but she knows that what I do is important. I’m the luckiest man in the world. 6/7/2004 I miss dad. I miss him more each day. I can’t help but feeling there is more I could have done. Why hadn’t I come sooner. Why didn’t he wait for me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t know what to do without him. 11/3/2004 My son was born today. We named him after Dad. He would have been so proud. Lucy was my hero today—I didn’t know that such strength was possible. I have to make my son proud just as my Dad did. I can’t wait for his powers to come in so that I can train him just like Dad did for me. Today was hard. I miss you Dad. 4/29/2010 I feel like I can’t win. If I save a family on the other side of the world, I let my family down. I saved a group of kids from another villain today. But because of it, I missed Jackson’s first tee-ball game. There will be more games, but I know that each day that passes, he is changing and he soon will become a man. I have to cherish what time we have together. 5/18/2010 The light is gone from my life. 5/19/2010 I told Cyrus I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Lucy paid for my mistakes, my Dad paid for my mistakes. I won’t let my son pay that price too. 5/21/2010 The fuckers took Jackson. Cyrus called me with a ransom! A fucking ransom from my own government. They wanted DNA from me. Said they can’t leave Earth unprotected. They have a new technology that could clone me. I obliged. I told them to leave me the fuck alone. 9/22/2010 Jackson is nervous about starting at a new school. I told him he’d make friends in no time. Its nice being out in the wilderness with him. I feel normal. I don’t miss splitting my mind in every task. I’m finally here for Jackson fully. I only wish I could have been there for Lucy. I miss her. 3/31/2012 I saw myself on the news today—6 of me. Cyrus’s contingency plan must have worked. Oddly comforting knowing I’m still out there doing good, while raising my son. Maybe Cyrus was right. 8/12/2012 Jackson’s powers kicked in this morning. Sooner than mine did! I wonder if I was a late bloomer, or if he’s early. I wish I could ask Dad. I’m conflicted. I’ve looked forward to this moment since the day he was born. This is something uniquely ours to bond over—at least, it used to be. I don’t want him to struggle with the same conflicts I did, to suffer the same losses, the same regrets. Regardless, I owe it to him to help him hone his abilities. I have to allow him to make his own choices. Just as I did. 12/12/2012 Things are bad. Cyrus’s experiment has gone awry. It appears he has lost control of the clones. Surreal to see myself on the news killing innocent people. This, too, feels like my fault. 4/14/2013 I don’t know how much longer I can hold up. I’ve trusted Cyrus to keep Jackson, Mom, and Lucy’s folks safe. I don’t know if I can trust him. I have to trust him. 6/22/2013 I feel silly to be writing right now, but it clears my head. I’ve successfully killed 5 of myself. What a sentence that is to see on the page. I’ve taken a beating. I hope I can hold out longer. I have to hold out longer. I miss you Lucy. 6/25/2013 I killed him. I’m the last of me standing. He wasn’t as strong as I would have thought. Earth’s greatest hero. I miss you Dad. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	I stepped up to the microphone, and was nervous. Slowly I started speaking: "My friends, today I stand before you in a state of melancholia. I know that each one of you has your own struggles and burdens to bear, and I do not wish to burden you with my own. But I must speak of my journey." A sad beat filled the speakers. My voice deepens, and I start rapping. "Ya'll wanna give me medals and cheer me on, Sayin' I'm a hero but it's not that strong I'm just trying to take a day off and have some fun, It's time to take a break so let me run! I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die All this talk of destinies and warriors, Always expectin' me to do more Actions have consequences, that's what I'm seein', But I can't keep giving up my bein' All these words flyin' in the air, Don't wanna go through it no more despair I won't play your game, no more of this fame, Gonna take a breather, change my own name I said no, no need to try, Stop askin' me to sacrifice Been livin' tough but I'm gettin' by, Time to take a break or else I'll die" And so, I waked off the stage and into the new unknown.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	“No.” “Excuse me?” The man replied. He was giving me a look like he knew I was joking. I wasn’t. “I’m not doing it anymore. I want to live my life, get a job, start a family, go on trips. I don’t want to run around thwarting bank robbers and stopping murders. I don’t want to fix broken buildings or build new houses. I want a quiet job, maybe writing or something like that.” The man was fuming. I could envision the smoke pouring out of his bright red ears and floating up past his dirty blond hair. He licked his lips before he spoke, and his tongue looked like a thick pink slug rolling around his lips. “I don’t care what you want. This is what you need to do. It’s your job.” He said, his voice harsh with anger. I looked at him with a piercing gaze. Oh, how I wanted to strike him down. Would it really be that hard? Would it really be that bad? Probably not. “Well, since it my job, I can quit. So I quit.” There was a stunned silence for a moment, then I slowly turned and started to walk out of the office. When I got to the door, I turned around. He was just sitting there looking defeated. And as I walked out of the office, I felt lighter than I had in years. ————-///——————///—————— I haven’t written in months, so any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!	“Hey, James, we finally found you!” shouted a young woman. Standing with her were two older men and a younger boy. “My father will be glad to see your face again. He says none of the other heroes that came after you can compare themselves to you.” The former hero sighed as he turned his wheelchair to the four intruders. A blanket covered his body from the chest down. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with intruders. Word had gotten around that he had grown soft and weak. The graves in his backyard beg to differ. But James couldn’t deny that he wasn’t the same man he was before. With a hoarse voice, he asked, “What do you want?” “Do you remember us, sir?” the boy asked. “You saved our city from that evil robot.” James let out a chuckle as he reminisced about the fight. That was during his earlier years. An owner of a social media site tried to use an AI algorithm to remove all of the bots on his website. Naturally, the AI declared war on humanity. The AI had seen Age of Ultron and decided to crash a city on the planet to send Earth into a new ice age. And who had to face the brunt of T-Bot’s and its metal army’s fists and lasers. He did. Of course, James saved the day, and the planet made memes. What a joke. “I believe so,” James said. “Was it New York?” “It was Philadelphia,” the young woman said. “I’m Rachel, and this is my brother Zack. Those two are my boyfriend and his friend, Mike and Josh.” The four waved at their hero. James did not. “If you’re here for autographs, I have a paper and pen in my drawer,” he said. “I got this, babe,” Mike said. “With all due respect, sir, but I don’t know if you’ve seen the news lately or stepped outside.” “What about it?” “The sun is about to burn this planet to a crisp.” James looked back at Mike deadpanned. “What about it?” “It was prophesied that….” “I’ll launch my body into the sun and restart its core. Yeah, the 2062 doomsday prophecy,” James said with disdain. “Prophecy… fuck prophecy. Apologies to the little one, ‘fudge’ prophecy. Becca says I shouldn’t curse in front of kids.” The room was silent after he talked. Zack was on the verge of tears. Rachel turned to Josh. “Hey, can you take my brother near the entrance for me?” Josh nodded and grabbed Zack’s hand. The young boy looked back to his hero, hoping to meet his gaze. When the two were out of earshot, Rachel spoke, “Are you going to help us or not?” James cocked his head as he let the question hang. “No.” “No?” the two of them said. “Are you hard of hearing, or do you need me to spell it out for you?” “What… but why, sir?” asked Mike. James rolled his eyes. This was why he didn’t deal with fans. “For the greater good. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Ever heard of that?” Mike slowly nodded his head. “That’s what I tell myself every time I fight for your planet. That your needs come before mine.” Mike moved his lips, but the words refused to come out. Rachel spoke. “The prophecy also said that it was impossible to kill you.” Immortality. James snorted. “How old do I look?” Mike blurted out, “About 25, sir.” With his right hand, he pulled his blanket, and the two of them gasped. James was in nothing but his shirt and underwear. But his wardrobe wasn’t the source of their shock. James’ skin suffered from second and third-degree burns from the neck down. Half of his right leg and left hand were gone, and the skin of his chest was exposed, a clear case showing his lungs and heart. “I’m 67,” James said. “My body, mind, and soul are the monument of the greater good.” “Oh my god,” Mike said. “But you have to save the planet,” Rachel pleaded. “I mean, it was foretold!” “Of course, I can save the planet.” James reached over to his keyboard and pressed a button. Images of a suit and spaceship filled the screen. “I have everything I need to save this piece of dirt.” “Then why aren’t you doing anything?” The two watched as his lungs expanded before shrinking back down. “There was a prophecy. It involved me playing the role of the antichrist so that humanity may go into Heaven. I asked why and He told me it was for the greater good. Bull-fucking-shit. “He didn’t like that much and knew what I was about to do. He tried to stop me, and I punched Him in the face. It shattered my left hand. After that, I hunted the Devil, killed him, and froze Hell over. Just so I didn’t have to fulfill that prophecy. That was the day I found out prophecies were bullshit.” “I- I don’t believe you,” Rachel said. “You can believe whatever you want,” James said. His heart started to beat faster with every word. “You would think God betraying me would be my breaking point, but it was when I found out that the US government made clones of me that broke me. All that pain and misery that I went through, the greater good, was for nothing. That was when my mind snapped, and I gave up on heroism. “So if you want a hero to save your asses, just walk over to the White House, knock on that door and ask for a clone to do my fucking...” His heart couldn’t take it anymore. James grabbed for his chest, but it was too late. He breathed one more time and slumped forward.
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	Selected excerpts from the journal of Earth’s greatest hero. 5/12/2000 I got my powers today. It was so cool flying around. I don’t know how I ever got by on foot before. I don’t care about getting my driver’s license anymore. Dad told me he’d help me learn to control my strength tomorrow. I need to pick out a hero name and outfit. Maybe mom can stitch something for me. 10/15/2000 Thwarted my first super villain today. Dad finally thought I had developed enough to come along on a call with him. Some villain had stolen nuclear secrets and was threatening to use them unless his demands were met. Dad ultimately was the one to take out the bad guy, but I did a lot to take down the henchmen. Looking forward to teaming up with Dad more and getting stronger. 2/14/2001 I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it. 5/17/2001 Being in love as a hero is hard. I never have time. I feel like no matter what I do, I always let someone down. Why do we hurt the ones we love? 9/4/2001 Got beat pretty badly today. Lucy told me she doesn’t know if she can take it. She worries about me too much when I’m out there. I told her she should see the other guy. Dad says it gets easier as we age, that Lucy will care less about the possibility I’ll die in service to the world as she learns more about me. Mom punched him in the shoulder. I love them. 8/6/2003 The happiest day of my life. Lucy and I are officially married. She wasn’t too happy that I had to leave the reception early to thwart a plot, but she knows that what I do is important. I’m the luckiest man in the world. 6/7/2004 I miss dad. I miss him more each day. I can’t help but feeling there is more I could have done. Why hadn’t I come sooner. Why didn’t he wait for me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t know what to do without him. 11/3/2004 My son was born today. We named him after Dad. He would have been so proud. Lucy was my hero today—I didn’t know that such strength was possible. I have to make my son proud just as my Dad did. I can’t wait for his powers to come in so that I can train him just like Dad did for me. Today was hard. I miss you Dad. 4/29/2010 I feel like I can’t win. If I save a family on the other side of the world, I let my family down. I saved a group of kids from another villain today. But because of it, I missed Jackson’s first tee-ball game. There will be more games, but I know that each day that passes, he is changing and he soon will become a man. I have to cherish what time we have together. 5/18/2010 The light is gone from my life. 5/19/2010 I told Cyrus I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Lucy paid for my mistakes, my Dad paid for my mistakes. I won’t let my son pay that price too. 5/21/2010 The fuckers took Jackson. Cyrus called me with a ransom! A fucking ransom from my own government. They wanted DNA from me. Said they can’t leave Earth unprotected. They have a new technology that could clone me. I obliged. I told them to leave me the fuck alone. 9/22/2010 Jackson is nervous about starting at a new school. I told him he’d make friends in no time. Its nice being out in the wilderness with him. I feel normal. I don’t miss splitting my mind in every task. I’m finally here for Jackson fully. I only wish I could have been there for Lucy. I miss her. 3/31/2012 I saw myself on the news today—6 of me. Cyrus’s contingency plan must have worked. Oddly comforting knowing I’m still out there doing good, while raising my son. Maybe Cyrus was right. 8/12/2012 Jackson’s powers kicked in this morning. Sooner than mine did! I wonder if I was a late bloomer, or if he’s early. I wish I could ask Dad. I’m conflicted. I’ve looked forward to this moment since the day he was born. This is something uniquely ours to bond over—at least, it used to be. I don’t want him to struggle with the same conflicts I did, to suffer the same losses, the same regrets. Regardless, I owe it to him to help him hone his abilities. I have to allow him to make his own choices. Just as I did. 12/12/2012 Things are bad. Cyrus’s experiment has gone awry. It appears he has lost control of the clones. Surreal to see myself on the news killing innocent people. This, too, feels like my fault. 4/14/2013 I don’t know how much longer I can hold up. I’ve trusted Cyrus to keep Jackson, Mom, and Lucy’s folks safe. I don’t know if I can trust him. I have to trust him. 6/22/2013 I feel silly to be writing right now, but it clears my head. I’ve successfully killed 5 of myself. What a sentence that is to see on the page. I’ve taken a beating. I hope I can hold out longer. I have to hold out longer. I miss you Lucy. 6/25/2013 I killed him. I’m the last of me standing. He wasn’t as strong as I would have thought. Earth’s greatest hero. I miss you Dad. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	As I stood in the mayor's office, listening to his wants to help the city, I began to think. I am so tired of being treated like this. I coke from a world of magic, and wonder. This place had none of that. And sure the Magium wasn't the best of the realms but it was home. I came here in order to help balance this unstable world. And what do I get? Nothing. That's what. Actually, I'm getting less than nothing. Everything I do for them is at my expense. What the fuck am I going to do with the key to the city? Nothing. At least pay me. But no, apparently "truly good people shouldn't want anythign back" well fuck that. I'm not a good person. Nobody is. You don't bite the hand that feeds you, lest you get struck. And that's what will happen for them. Crimes rates will increase, eiosmts may ensue. And hell, I'd probably join the villains side. At least they have a union. Me and my rival are pretty much actors, anyway. They kill some citizens, I stop them, we do it again the next week. We don't even hate each other, we actually hang out occasionally. "What do you mean 'no?'" the mayor asked. I sighed. "I mean no. Now, au revoir, you asshole." I said, gripping the air as if I was choking him. His throat began to close, feeling the effects of my power. I lifted him in the air, and closed my fist. There was a satisfying crunch, followed by the thud of the mayor hitting the ground, blood pooling out of his throat. There was an explosion, and my nemesis stepped into the hole the explosion had made. "I already killed him, Chara. No need to fight today. But they're probably going to hunt me down for this. So I have a proposition." I said, stepping over the mayor, and sitting in his chair. Chara nodded, intrigued. "I want to be your roommate. They'd easily find me with my current address. They've never found you before. And I'd even team up with you. And we'd get to go to that ice cream place more often. What do you say, Chara? Yes or no. Make your choice." I said, leaning in, a grin spreading across my face. Chara grinned back. "Of course. Just think of all we could do..."
	[WP] You were the hero, the prophesied savior of the world. But you are so very tired of sacrificing for the greater good, of having to do the right thing at your expense. So when they ask you to do it again, you say no.	Selected excerpts from the journal of Earth’s greatest hero. 5/12/2000 I got my powers today. It was so cool flying around. I don’t know how I ever got by on foot before. I don’t care about getting my driver’s license anymore. Dad told me he’d help me learn to control my strength tomorrow. I need to pick out a hero name and outfit. Maybe mom can stitch something for me. 10/15/2000 Thwarted my first super villain today. Dad finally thought I had developed enough to come along on a call with him. Some villain had stolen nuclear secrets and was threatening to use them unless his demands were met. Dad ultimately was the one to take out the bad guy, but I did a lot to take down the henchmen. Looking forward to teaming up with Dad more and getting stronger. 2/14/2001 I’m in love, I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it. 5/17/2001 Being in love as a hero is hard. I never have time. I feel like no matter what I do, I always let someone down. Why do we hurt the ones we love? 9/4/2001 Got beat pretty badly today. Lucy told me she doesn’t know if she can take it. She worries about me too much when I’m out there. I told her she should see the other guy. Dad says it gets easier as we age, that Lucy will care less about the possibility I’ll die in service to the world as she learns more about me. Mom punched him in the shoulder. I love them. 8/6/2003 The happiest day of my life. Lucy and I are officially married. She wasn’t too happy that I had to leave the reception early to thwart a plot, but she knows that what I do is important. I’m the luckiest man in the world. 6/7/2004 I miss dad. I miss him more each day. I can’t help but feeling there is more I could have done. Why hadn’t I come sooner. Why didn’t he wait for me. I can’t do this alone. I don’t know what to do without him. 11/3/2004 My son was born today. We named him after Dad. He would have been so proud. Lucy was my hero today—I didn’t know that such strength was possible. I have to make my son proud just as my Dad did. I can’t wait for his powers to come in so that I can train him just like Dad did for me. Today was hard. I miss you Dad. 4/29/2010 I feel like I can’t win. If I save a family on the other side of the world, I let my family down. I saved a group of kids from another villain today. But because of it, I missed Jackson’s first tee-ball game. There will be more games, but I know that each day that passes, he is changing and he soon will become a man. I have to cherish what time we have together. 5/18/2010 The light is gone from my life. 5/19/2010 I told Cyrus I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Lucy paid for my mistakes, my Dad paid for my mistakes. I won’t let my son pay that price too. 5/21/2010 The fuckers took Jackson. Cyrus called me with a ransom! A fucking ransom from my own government. They wanted DNA from me. Said they can’t leave Earth unprotected. They have a new technology that could clone me. I obliged. I told them to leave me the fuck alone. 9/22/2010 Jackson is nervous about starting at a new school. I told him he’d make friends in no time. Its nice being out in the wilderness with him. I feel normal. I don’t miss splitting my mind in every task. I’m finally here for Jackson fully. I only wish I could have been there for Lucy. I miss her. 3/31/2012 I saw myself on the news today—6 of me. Cyrus’s contingency plan must have worked. Oddly comforting knowing I’m still out there doing good, while raising my son. Maybe Cyrus was right. 8/12/2012 Jackson’s powers kicked in this morning. Sooner than mine did! I wonder if I was a late bloomer, or if he’s early. I wish I could ask Dad. I’m conflicted. I’ve looked forward to this moment since the day he was born. This is something uniquely ours to bond over—at least, it used to be. I don’t want him to struggle with the same conflicts I did, to suffer the same losses, the same regrets. Regardless, I owe it to him to help him hone his abilities. I have to allow him to make his own choices. Just as I did. 12/12/2012 Things are bad. Cyrus’s experiment has gone awry. It appears he has lost control of the clones. Surreal to see myself on the news killing innocent people. This, too, feels like my fault. 4/14/2013 I don’t know how much longer I can hold up. I’ve trusted Cyrus to keep Jackson, Mom, and Lucy’s folks safe. I don’t know if I can trust him. I have to trust him. 6/22/2013 I feel silly to be writing right now, but it clears my head. I’ve successfully killed 5 of myself. What a sentence that is to see on the page. I’ve taken a beating. I hope I can hold out longer. I have to hold out longer. I miss you Lucy. 6/25/2013 I killed him. I’m the last of me standing. He wasn’t as strong as I would have thought. Earth’s greatest hero. I miss you Dad. \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	"But we need you!" I crossed my arms, sitting in the cottage I called home. The spokesman was pale, standing up from his chair in horror. "I said I was done the last time. I meant it. So no, you can go back and say I'm not helping." The spokeman spluttered, tapping his scroll frantically. "But.... but.... but it will be the end of our world! The rising tide of corrupted treants and dryads will destroy all of our cities! Countless people will die!" I shrugged. "So? Every time I have helped, I have lost. Either something or someone precious. I have nothing left I am willing to give up. So find someone else to break themselves for you. I won't do it anymore." The spokesman stepped towards me, tightening his fist. The scroll crumpled in his grasp, the pale skin now turning red with anger. "You are always rewarded! How dare you not care anymore!" I slowly stood up. My long years of service had left me with a powerful body, one that made me stand over any ordinary person. "I said I'm done. Now leave, before I lose my temper." He shivered at the implication. I pointed to the door, letting him make the choice. After dithering for a moment he walked out, though he walked like he wanted to run. I watched him leave, before sighing. "Is that enough for you?" A potted plant on my windowsill twitched, before an ethereal voice rose from it. "That is enough assurance. You have my word your friends will be left unharmed by this transition." I relaxed, settling into my chair. It turns out the best action for me was inaction.
	[WP] Across the galaxy, humans are known for tinkering on, and sometimes breaking, random items due to long transit time across space. As a solution, your company makes unfixable items to keep humans amused and harmless. Today a frantic captain just called claiming a human 'fixed' your product.	Transcript of an actual support call, submitted to the galactic court as evidence in the case of GaliTech VS human engineer Jamison Lawson: "Thank you for calling GaliTech customer service, before we continue may we ask what shipboard time it is for conversational context?" "Greetings, shipboard time is early sleep cycle, secondary crew is on duty." "Thank you for that, and what is your position on the crew? "Captain." "Thank you captain, how may we assist you this evening?" "I need to file a complaint about a product we recently acquired for one of our crewmembers." "Ah, you need to file a complaint for a faulty product. Can you tell me more about this product and how it's faulty." "Actually...." a pregnant pause. "The problem is the product isn't faulty enough." "Uh...the product isn't faulty enough? I am afraid I do not understand, please elaborate." "We have a human engineer on board. Since bringing them on, our ship has both never run more efficiently, but also never had we had more downtime to achieve these effiencies." "Ah, I understand now, captain. The product you are referring to is the Failingeer line of products to keep your human engineers occupied, am I correct in that?" "You are." "And you say the issue is that the product is not faulty enough?" "That is correct." "I assure you, captain, that our Failingeer products are not actual products, but a random assortment of leftover parts and peices from thousands of our other product lines. There is no actual product to be had, just something to occupy your human engineers minds for your long voyages." "I understand that, but I have a question, has any being ever reviewed the random assortment of parts to see if anything could be constructed?" "I am sorry captain, I am only a first contact representative for GaliTech, I am not part of the product or quality assurance teams. Did the human manage to build something from the Failingeer parts?" "They did." "And what is the nature of this construction?" "A clock." "Oh, that doesn't seem to be bad. We do admit crude things could be made, but nothing that would endanger our customers vessels." "It's not an ordinary clock. This clock can create a bubble that anything caught within can speed up or slow down the flow of time." "I am checking my notes..." Silence for several minutes. "Ah, humans are fond of fabricating tales for their entertainment, sure this is such an instance and the Failingeer product has worked as advertised." "I wish this were the case. I witnessed its use for myself. Our human engineer used it to freeze the reactions in our fusion generator and let time flow at a rate that he could closely witness the reactions for himself." Silince reigned. "Uhh..." frantic typing could be heard in the background. "I'm sorry Captain, I don't have any resources available to me to assist you with a space-time manipulation clock. I need to refer you to our escalation team. I will do so now and I wish you being appropriate platitudes for this evening." ~Original, poor ending. New ending written in a following reply~ The recording ended. Jamison couldn't help but grin, he knew all about the Failingeer kits and their purpose. What no one realized that as an engineer, hell, as a tinkerer, you don't throw away good parts. You keep them for use in future projects. To build the clock took the summation of about a dozen kits over several voyages. He turned to his court appointed representative, a defense lawyer in human terms, and said, "They haven't seen anything yet, watch this." followed by a mischievous wink. Before the representative could react, Jamison was gone and everyone left in the room suddenly were wearing comical hats and other accessories. Another blink and a sheet of paper appeared above the officiants head with an audible pop and chaotically floated down. Snatching the paper out of the air on the third attempt, the officiant read it three times before reading it aloud. "neener neener, I am free-ER. Can't catch me because I'm the gingerbread man!" ---- Authors note: OK, lame I know, but I had to do something in the end to make it worth your while to read. May come back and change the ending later, for now my meeting I was listening into is over and I gotta get back to work now.	A Supervisor: what do you mean he fixed the [REDACTED], it's not supposed to be anything at all in the first place?? H:ahhh, so it's not a miniature black hole generator then? A Captain: no it's supposed to be a toy for you to play with so you don't break actual cargo, wait a miniature what? H:black hole generator,i mean it can also be used as fusion reactor,but also and a microgravity simu- AS: ok first, how in the actual fuck did you do this with the equivalent of spare parts?, Second you are head of physics research and development now AC: aren't you supposed to ask the board of directors for this kinda of thing? AS:Do you they will reject after seeing a fusion reactor as small as a human fist? made with spare parts?
	[WP] Across the galaxy, humans are known for tinkering on, and sometimes breaking, random items due to long transit time across space. As a solution, your company makes unfixable items to keep humans amused and harmless. Today a frantic captain just called claiming a human 'fixed' your product.	My crew evaluations had been submitted a few night-cycles previously. His had been short and highly complementary: Propulsion Engineer Adams was a good man, a fine example to his team. Responsible and decisive. An introvert, more interested in books about ancient technologies than the intoxicants and tinkertoys his peers enjoyed so much. Proficient with general warp theory, exceptionally skilled at artificial gravity maneuvering systems. I had gotten him a special one for this voyage; a water wheel without an axle and no gearing mechanism. Explicit prohibitions against creating either from scratch. Basically just a pair of bonded steel rings, some bolts, and the instruction, "translate potential energy to mechanical without any additional parts." The innocuous announcement from the engineering team that the warp drive would be briefly going offline for unscheduled maintenance was the first red flag, but I trusted that Adams had things well in hand. There was a brief shudder, a faint whirring noise, and we resumed our course after a mere thirty minutes. The knock on my door - with the computer's announcement of Adams' arrival in my foyer - was the second flag, but it merely piqued my interest. Adams wasn't fond of direct contact - he generally made his reports through the internal hypercomm. The door opened and the human came to stand nervously in front of my desk. "Adams!" I exclaimed. "I imagine you have managed yet another miraculous improvement to our warp formula?" "Not exactly, sir. This involves our power generation systems." Adams was, as I've said, was a leader of our propulsion division. His statement - and his twitchiness - began to concern me. I checked my screens. "Our output is well-above standard, but not dangerously so. The warp coils are running within spec. Maneuvering thrusters report no errors. What has you so bothered?" "Well, sir, it's the fusion reactor. I've taken it offline. I also may have broken a few laws." "Offline? How? We're underway, and output is still in the... Wait, laws? What sort of laws?" I rose from my pod, fighting to keep my anger from showing in my quills. "What have you done, Adams? Who have you killed?" The human coughed. "Ahem. Not intergalactic laws, sir. Physical ones." My quills stopped shaking as I stared at him. I laid my claws on the desk as I rose to stare him in the eye. "Explain." "It may be best if you see for yourself, sir." *** As we approached the engineering bay, the unusual humming noise began to register in my auditory implants again. There was also a faint... Splashing? As I turned the corner, my jaws dropped. The spherical fusion chamber had been yanked our of its socket and sat discarded in the corner. In its place, spinning, was Adams' tinkertoy. It was floating in a sphere of liquid several klons off the ground, surrounded by rings of magnets. Electrical discharges hopped to and fro. "You see sir, Engineer Squonble suggested grav-lev bearings in place of an axle, to stabilize the wheel. The interaction between the wheel and the magnet matrix creates a steady current, so we wouldn't need the axle for power generation itself anyways. The issue arose when we introduced the water." "Water? Where did you find water in this ship?" Engineer Kruger tentatively raised a hand. "I reverse-distilled it from platinum-neotide coolant and beer. Sorry sir." I waved him off. "What happened next?" Adams continued, "We poured a bucket over the wheel to see if it would spin. It did, so we thought 'neat, we fixed a tinkertoy'. An accomplishment, even if it was functionally useless. The issue is, it never stopped spinning. Squonble nearly lost a tentacle trying to slow it down. We can't shut off the grav-lev, because somehow they're being fed power by the wheel. We can't remove the magnets, because the geometric instability would send bits shooting all over the place. Simply put, sir, we don't know how to turn it off." "This waterwheel is actively generating power comparable to a fusion reactor, _without fuel_, and you can't turn it off. Are you implying you've created a..." "Yes sir. A perpetual motion machine." I sighed, my quills drooping. I slammed a claw into the hypercomm. "Pilot, adjust course. We're heading to the Council Station. Yeoman, inform the Directorate that we've... invented... a potentially disruptive technology. Adams, Kruger, Squonble, you're confined to this chamber. Security will bring your meals. You're forbidden any outside contact or use of tinkertoys. Make sure this damn thing doesn't blow us all to hell. I need a drink."	"Wait ... did I fix it? Those were advertised as 'unfixable' ... Huh I should talk to engineering." As I took my ... what was this anyways to engineering I started to look at the "manual" to find out what that was supposed to be ... maybe. As I turned to the elevators to ask for guidance I found the "product" ... wait this is a fusion cell? Why would they sell this. This is dumb. Don't they know how dangerous these things are. I AM an engineer on this ship, I know how terrifying these cells are. And they sell broken ones for us to "fix"? By God will I complain. I quickly found the heating circuit and turned it off, one of the safest ways to ... defuse this basically mininuke. I just asked myself how I haven't noticed that this is a fusion cell. I work around those often enough. As I slammed the cell on the table of my chef he quickly glances over and then falls back in terror. I interrupted "It is off now, better safe than sorry. This was one of these 'unfixable' gadgets for is humans ... well honestly most engineers by now. Got quite popular by now right." He just stared at it. "No I don't know I haven't noticed how this is a fusion cell, but that they sell those at all with the chance that one might be able to repair one is outrageous personally. If I wouldn't have know how those work at all that thing could have went up as a blinding sun." As my engineering master got back his composure he just says "Fuckers getting ships killed" So we contacted the captain, she was as mad as us. Like how can you ever think this is a good idea, until the trade master drops in with a simple explanation: "Theya re cheap to make, basically abundant and most importantly extremely easy to fuck up and break." We still though this was irresponsible. The trade master agreed tho with a respect to the hustle. So we filed a complaint. Not even a day after this a small Courier Intercepter catched up to us and quickly docked in the shuttle hangar. Out came a distressed representative of the company which sold those thingies. After requesting to see the cell she just went purple, for their species a very bad colour, after actually being able to actually start the actual fusion cell she just turns to us: "Where is your bar, I need to never remember this moment?' We stopped her and send her to the medic quarters and let her sit down and talk to our psychologist. Our trade master admitted then he did plan on me fixing on cell. He believed this company was worth to squeeze out in class action suits, he just wanted a large part of the cake. Then he got out the prospect. They were also selling kits for Microscale Antimatter Reactors, LASER cores and even a prototype singularity generator. I looked up: "We recently were able to build a functioning singularity generator, and this ... is bad. Also LASER cores? Holy shit this company has to die. It is just a question of very limited time until one of these actually starts up and fucks things up. Imagine one of these prototype generators actually makes a singularity ... in a natural gravity field. That would destroy planets." As our captain wanted to leave the representative came in ... nearly comatose drunk, Captain closed the bar specifically for her. We will need her help later. And I? I called up a mercenary friend, still have a favour with them. If these informations ever leave this ships the company will try to ... silence us. If they sell this knowingly who knows what else they will do.
	[WP] Across the galaxy, humans are known for tinkering on, and sometimes breaking, random items due to long transit time across space. As a solution, your company makes unfixable items to keep humans amused and harmless. Today a frantic captain just called claiming a human 'fixed' your product.	Upsil has been the top galactic manufacturing company for 5 centuries, dealing in everything from children’s toys to weapons of warfare. From clothing made for the various sizes and shapes of the galactic citizens, to the very long-distance sublight transporters I’m sitting in. And even though Upsil has the best quality of manufacturing, things inevitably get damaged and broken. The rate for these damages has skyrocketed since the humans showed up. These “evolved” monkeys have a bad habit of fiddling with precious cargo. Probably a leftover natural instinct from their days beating eachother with sticks, trying to find better ways to maime themselves. These issues have plagued Upsil for a century, but galactic employment laws forbid the company from banning human employees outright. So, they started sending junk along with the actual cargo, junk that would fall apart rather easy, and is seemingly impossible to properly fix. The humans seem content enough, they fiddle until they break, and they slam the pieces together in an attempt to fix, which keeps them occupied long enough for our transports to reach their destinations, then they’re obligated to offload with the rest of us. After alls said and done, they’ve broken nothing of value, and “forgotten” about their mishaps, hoping none of us noticed. As I sip my “coffee”, one of the rare useful things to come from human contact, and stare out of the bridge windows at the show of colours and lights that come with sublight travel, Tarek races into the bridge. “Captain, there an…issue” I sigh, quite heavily. “Tarek, it’s too early for whatever nonsense the humans have caused this time. Come back in an hour, once I’m properly awake.” I said, turning away from Tarek and back at the light show in front of me. “Sir, this isn’t ‘nonsense’, one of the humans claims to have fixed a junk cargo item.” I was mid sip, and this news nearly caused me to spit the delicious liquid out. However, the pay cut I’d receive to account for the repairs of the various equipment in my vicinity was cause enough for me to keep it in. “Fixed? How can they fix something that never worked in the first place? Ugh, alright I’m coming” and so we walked, down the various white halls lined with doors, until we got to the cargo hold. As we approached, I could hear commotion from inside. Sounds of astonishment, and the occasional clutter of object. I sighed, again. More cargo undoubtedly being damaged. But as Tarek flipped a switch, and the door descended vertically, i too was in astonishment. “Tarek, is that human…flying?” “It appears so, sir”	"Wait ... did I fix it? Those were advertised as 'unfixable' ... Huh I should talk to engineering." As I took my ... what was this anyways to engineering I started to look at the "manual" to find out what that was supposed to be ... maybe. As I turned to the elevators to ask for guidance I found the "product" ... wait this is a fusion cell? Why would they sell this. This is dumb. Don't they know how dangerous these things are. I AM an engineer on this ship, I know how terrifying these cells are. And they sell broken ones for us to "fix"? By God will I complain. I quickly found the heating circuit and turned it off, one of the safest ways to ... defuse this basically mininuke. I just asked myself how I haven't noticed that this is a fusion cell. I work around those often enough. As I slammed the cell on the table of my chef he quickly glances over and then falls back in terror. I interrupted "It is off now, better safe than sorry. This was one of these 'unfixable' gadgets for is humans ... well honestly most engineers by now. Got quite popular by now right." He just stared at it. "No I don't know I haven't noticed how this is a fusion cell, but that they sell those at all with the chance that one might be able to repair one is outrageous personally. If I wouldn't have know how those work at all that thing could have went up as a blinding sun." As my engineering master got back his composure he just says "Fuckers getting ships killed" So we contacted the captain, she was as mad as us. Like how can you ever think this is a good idea, until the trade master drops in with a simple explanation: "Theya re cheap to make, basically abundant and most importantly extremely easy to fuck up and break." We still though this was irresponsible. The trade master agreed tho with a respect to the hustle. So we filed a complaint. Not even a day after this a small Courier Intercepter catched up to us and quickly docked in the shuttle hangar. Out came a distressed representative of the company which sold those thingies. After requesting to see the cell she just went purple, for their species a very bad colour, after actually being able to actually start the actual fusion cell she just turns to us: "Where is your bar, I need to never remember this moment?' We stopped her and send her to the medic quarters and let her sit down and talk to our psychologist. Our trade master admitted then he did plan on me fixing on cell. He believed this company was worth to squeeze out in class action suits, he just wanted a large part of the cake. Then he got out the prospect. They were also selling kits for Microscale Antimatter Reactors, LASER cores and even a prototype singularity generator. I looked up: "We recently were able to build a functioning singularity generator, and this ... is bad. Also LASER cores? Holy shit this company has to die. It is just a question of very limited time until one of these actually starts up and fucks things up. Imagine one of these prototype generators actually makes a singularity ... in a natural gravity field. That would destroy planets." As our captain wanted to leave the representative came in ... nearly comatose drunk, Captain closed the bar specifically for her. We will need her help later. And I? I called up a mercenary friend, still have a favour with them. If these informations ever leave this ships the company will try to ... silence us. If they sell this knowingly who knows what else they will do.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	"Some people may criticise me. Some may question my intelligence. But I don't care what they say. I didn't want to be a superhero, because I know that won't help enough people "Come on, there aren't any supervillains in our city in the first place! Will I have had to travel outside to use my super powers? Or will I have end up helping families with their barbecue nights? What, I'd have burned a tree to save a cat? It's ridiculous! "I'd rather be a great firefighter, like my dad before me. Fire is more dangerous than any supervillain can be. It actually kills people. Even children. Villains don't kill children, do they? I want to save those poor lives and make the world a better place. "Come on, I'm sure you get it" I glance at the baby in my arms and my eyes meet his eyes. I'm screwed. He knows it. I can see it, he knows the truth. "Fine, I just didn't have any muscles to wear a superhero suit.." With my confession, the roof of the burning building collapsed, and my secret was buried with me. And the baby. The end.	“I’m going to get out of this dumpster, Adriana.” I was lying on my bed. Her head rested on my chest.“ "Yeah?” “Yeah, I am.” She reached to kiss me with her tiny pink lips.“I believe in you, baby. You can become a superhero and work under the king or for the nobles, and then we can buy food.” “I don’t want to work for that privileged fuck, robbing money from the people, spending it on his houses in the countryside.” Adriana stayed silent. “I’m going to help the people, using my abilities for good and saving lives.” “You can do that as a superhero, Danny,” she responded. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sell out, working for the king who oppresses our people. I would hate myself. My dad died trying to protect this city from the Great Fire. That was eighteen years ago, and look at London now. Nothing has changed. Half the city is still burned because those fuckers are spending money like water while we are dying of thirst.” Adriana rolled over on top of me. Her hands now rested on my chest for support. Her frame was so light I could hardly feel it. “With your ability to control fire, you are unstoppable. You don’t have to “sell out.” You can be like Dash or Electra protecting this city, and our people, from the real oppressors, the “mafiosos.” The “devil syndicates” every other week are figuring out a new way to topple the government. Children are being recruited, and store owners are leaving their stores at gunpoint, so those devils can use it to launder money. People out there look like zombies because of this new alcohol. There is a war on these streets, and we need someone to protect us." “The King is a criminal too. We are just picking the least worse one.” Adriana went back to lying next to my side. “Once the hero platoon wipes out the “devil syndicates,” they’ll have no use anymore, and he’ll just dispose of them like he did with the soldiers. I don’t know how you can support it; your dad died in a war that nearly bankrupted the country, and the soldiers who survived couldn’t be paid when we lost.” Adriana sat up again, but she wasn’t on me this time. Instead, I could see the anger in her eyes. “I am not supporting the King,” Adriana said, breathing heavily now. “You know more than anyone how much he has stripped from my family.” “I know. I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up now. “I just don’t know why you won’t back me on this. I can be the greatest firefighter in all of England. I can help in reforming how we deal with fires and create houses." “I am supporting you, Danny. It just doesn’t make any money.” “I know, baby,” I said, hugging her. “I know, but we’ll figure it out.”
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	As a young boy, you always knew that you were different from your peers. While other kids your age struggled to light candles or matches, you could ignite a flame with just a thought. It wasn't long before you discovered that you had the ability to control fire, and you were determined to use your gift for good. You spent years honing your skills, and when you turned 18, you decided to become a firefighter. Your superiors were skeptical at first, but they quickly realized that your abilities made you an invaluable asset to the team. You became known as the "Fire Ryder"....😎 You were always ready to face any challenge that came your way. But one night, while you were off duty and heavily intoxicated, you stumbled upon a burning building. Despite your impaired state, you didn't hesitate to rush inside and search for any trapped residents. You managed to rescue several people from the flames, singing the lyrics to the "Paw Patrol" theme song to keep yourself focused and motivated. "Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, we'll be there on the double! Whenever there's a problem, round up the pups and go! Ryder, Ryder, he's the leader of the pack! Whenever you're in trouble, just give a yip, yip, yap! Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, when danger calls, we'll be there to save the day!" As you were making your way back out, a beam fell and trapped you inside. Your team tried to rescue you, but it was too late. The fire consumed you, and you died a hero, having sacrificed your own life to save others. Some say they can still hear a faint "yip, yip, yap" when walking past.	“I’m going to get out of this dumpster, Adriana.” I was lying on my bed. Her head rested on my chest.“ "Yeah?” “Yeah, I am.” She reached to kiss me with her tiny pink lips.“I believe in you, baby. You can become a superhero and work under the king or for the nobles, and then we can buy food.” “I don’t want to work for that privileged fuck, robbing money from the people, spending it on his houses in the countryside.” Adriana stayed silent. “I’m going to help the people, using my abilities for good and saving lives.” “You can do that as a superhero, Danny,” she responded. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sell out, working for the king who oppresses our people. I would hate myself. My dad died trying to protect this city from the Great Fire. That was eighteen years ago, and look at London now. Nothing has changed. Half the city is still burned because those fuckers are spending money like water while we are dying of thirst.” Adriana rolled over on top of me. Her hands now rested on my chest for support. Her frame was so light I could hardly feel it. “With your ability to control fire, you are unstoppable. You don’t have to “sell out.” You can be like Dash or Electra protecting this city, and our people, from the real oppressors, the “mafiosos.” The “devil syndicates” every other week are figuring out a new way to topple the government. Children are being recruited, and store owners are leaving their stores at gunpoint, so those devils can use it to launder money. People out there look like zombies because of this new alcohol. There is a war on these streets, and we need someone to protect us." “The King is a criminal too. We are just picking the least worse one.” Adriana went back to lying next to my side. “Once the hero platoon wipes out the “devil syndicates,” they’ll have no use anymore, and he’ll just dispose of them like he did with the soldiers. I don’t know how you can support it; your dad died in a war that nearly bankrupted the country, and the soldiers who survived couldn’t be paid when we lost.” Adriana sat up again, but she wasn’t on me this time. Instead, I could see the anger in her eyes. “I am not supporting the King,” Adriana said, breathing heavily now. “You know more than anyone how much he has stripped from my family.” “I know. I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up now. “I just don’t know why you won’t back me on this. I can be the greatest firefighter in all of England. I can help in reforming how we deal with fires and create houses." “I am supporting you, Danny. It just doesn’t make any money.” “I know, baby,” I said, hugging her. “I know, but we’ll figure it out.”
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	It had been a rough few months since revealing her powers. There was a lot of friction at first, she got called irresponsible for not using her powers to become a hero. After the first few burning buildings extinguished in seconds just with a wave of her hand, however, the public has started to cry out against superheroes for not using their powers for more constructive things than just gloryseeking and showboating as comicbook heroes. There's been more than a few sidekicks and PR representatives showing up to her apartment to threaten her for making the other heroes look bad, but in the end she gets up and goes to work anyway. To her, being a hero isn't about escapism or a power fantasy. It's about making the world a safer place. If her contribution is to walk up to houses and press down on some fire, and the worst she faces for it are some self righteous nerds in spandex, then that's just fine. She isn't in it for the marketing or the approval, knowing she's saving lives is its own reward. Though... she'd be lying not to admit to letting loose a few "fireworks" for the local kids from time to time. Gotta have fun sometimes, right?	“I’m going to get out of this dumpster, Adriana.” I was lying on my bed. Her head rested on my chest.“ "Yeah?” “Yeah, I am.” She reached to kiss me with her tiny pink lips.“I believe in you, baby. You can become a superhero and work under the king or for the nobles, and then we can buy food.” “I don’t want to work for that privileged fuck, robbing money from the people, spending it on his houses in the countryside.” Adriana stayed silent. “I’m going to help the people, using my abilities for good and saving lives.” “You can do that as a superhero, Danny,” she responded. “I don’t know. I don’t want to sell out, working for the king who oppresses our people. I would hate myself. My dad died trying to protect this city from the Great Fire. That was eighteen years ago, and look at London now. Nothing has changed. Half the city is still burned because those fuckers are spending money like water while we are dying of thirst.” Adriana rolled over on top of me. Her hands now rested on my chest for support. Her frame was so light I could hardly feel it. “With your ability to control fire, you are unstoppable. You don’t have to “sell out.” You can be like Dash or Electra protecting this city, and our people, from the real oppressors, the “mafiosos.” The “devil syndicates” every other week are figuring out a new way to topple the government. Children are being recruited, and store owners are leaving their stores at gunpoint, so those devils can use it to launder money. People out there look like zombies because of this new alcohol. There is a war on these streets, and we need someone to protect us." “The King is a criminal too. We are just picking the least worse one.” Adriana went back to lying next to my side. “Once the hero platoon wipes out the “devil syndicates,” they’ll have no use anymore, and he’ll just dispose of them like he did with the soldiers. I don’t know how you can support it; your dad died in a war that nearly bankrupted the country, and the soldiers who survived couldn’t be paid when we lost.” Adriana sat up again, but she wasn’t on me this time. Instead, I could see the anger in her eyes. “I am not supporting the King,” Adriana said, breathing heavily now. “You know more than anyone how much he has stripped from my family.” “I know. I’m sorry,” I said, sitting up now. “I just don’t know why you won’t back me on this. I can be the greatest firefighter in all of England. I can help in reforming how we deal with fires and create houses." “I am supporting you, Danny. It just doesn’t make any money.” “I know, baby,” I said, hugging her. “I know, but we’ll figure it out.”
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	As a young boy, you always knew that you were different from your peers. While other kids your age struggled to light candles or matches, you could ignite a flame with just a thought. It wasn't long before you discovered that you had the ability to control fire, and you were determined to use your gift for good. You spent years honing your skills, and when you turned 18, you decided to become a firefighter. Your superiors were skeptical at first, but they quickly realized that your abilities made you an invaluable asset to the team. You became known as the "Fire Ryder"....😎 You were always ready to face any challenge that came your way. But one night, while you were off duty and heavily intoxicated, you stumbled upon a burning building. Despite your impaired state, you didn't hesitate to rush inside and search for any trapped residents. You managed to rescue several people from the flames, singing the lyrics to the "Paw Patrol" theme song to keep yourself focused and motivated. "Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, we'll be there on the double! Whenever there's a problem, round up the pups and go! Ryder, Ryder, he's the leader of the pack! Whenever you're in trouble, just give a yip, yip, yap! Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, when danger calls, we'll be there to save the day!" As you were making your way back out, a beam fell and trapped you inside. Your team tried to rescue you, but it was too late. The fire consumed you, and you died a hero, having sacrificed your own life to save others. Some say they can still hear a faint "yip, yip, yap" when walking past.	"Some people may criticise me. Some may question my intelligence. But I don't care what they say. I didn't want to be a superhero, because I know that won't help enough people "Come on, there aren't any supervillains in our city in the first place! Will I have had to travel outside to use my super powers? Or will I have end up helping families with their barbecue nights? What, I'd have burned a tree to save a cat? It's ridiculous! "I'd rather be a great firefighter, like my dad before me. Fire is more dangerous than any supervillain can be. It actually kills people. Even children. Villains don't kill children, do they? I want to save those poor lives and make the world a better place. "Come on, I'm sure you get it" I glance at the baby in my arms and my eyes meet his eyes. I'm screwed. He knows it. I can see it, he knows the truth. "Fine, I just didn't have any muscles to wear a superhero suit.." With my confession, the roof of the burning building collapsed, and my secret was buried with me. And the baby. The end.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	It had been a rough few months since revealing her powers. There was a lot of friction at first, she got called irresponsible for not using her powers to become a hero. After the first few burning buildings extinguished in seconds just with a wave of her hand, however, the public has started to cry out against superheroes for not using their powers for more constructive things than just gloryseeking and showboating as comicbook heroes. There's been more than a few sidekicks and PR representatives showing up to her apartment to threaten her for making the other heroes look bad, but in the end she gets up and goes to work anyway. To her, being a hero isn't about escapism or a power fantasy. It's about making the world a safer place. If her contribution is to walk up to houses and press down on some fire, and the worst she faces for it are some self righteous nerds in spandex, then that's just fine. She isn't in it for the marketing or the approval, knowing she's saving lives is its own reward. Though... she'd be lying not to admit to letting loose a few "fireworks" for the local kids from time to time. Gotta have fun sometimes, right?	"Some people may criticise me. Some may question my intelligence. But I don't care what they say. I didn't want to be a superhero, because I know that won't help enough people "Come on, there aren't any supervillains in our city in the first place! Will I have had to travel outside to use my super powers? Or will I have end up helping families with their barbecue nights? What, I'd have burned a tree to save a cat? It's ridiculous! "I'd rather be a great firefighter, like my dad before me. Fire is more dangerous than any supervillain can be. It actually kills people. Even children. Villains don't kill children, do they? I want to save those poor lives and make the world a better place. "Come on, I'm sure you get it" I glance at the baby in my arms and my eyes meet his eyes. I'm screwed. He knows it. I can see it, he knows the truth. "Fine, I just didn't have any muscles to wear a superhero suit.." With my confession, the roof of the burning building collapsed, and my secret was buried with me. And the baby. The end.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	As a young boy, you always knew that you were different from your peers. While other kids your age struggled to light candles or matches, you could ignite a flame with just a thought. It wasn't long before you discovered that you had the ability to control fire, and you were determined to use your gift for good. You spent years honing your skills, and when you turned 18, you decided to become a firefighter. Your superiors were skeptical at first, but they quickly realized that your abilities made you an invaluable asset to the team. You became known as the "Fire Ryder"....😎 You were always ready to face any challenge that came your way. But one night, while you were off duty and heavily intoxicated, you stumbled upon a burning building. Despite your impaired state, you didn't hesitate to rush inside and search for any trapped residents. You managed to rescue several people from the flames, singing the lyrics to the "Paw Patrol" theme song to keep yourself focused and motivated. "Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, we'll be there on the double! Whenever there's a problem, round up the pups and go! Ryder, Ryder, he's the leader of the pack! Whenever you're in trouble, just give a yip, yip, yap! Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, when danger calls, we'll be there to save the day!" As you were making your way back out, a beam fell and trapped you inside. Your team tried to rescue you, but it was too late. The fire consumed you, and you died a hero, having sacrificed your own life to save others. Some say they can still hear a faint "yip, yip, yap" when walking past.	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	It had been a rough few months since revealing her powers. There was a lot of friction at first, she got called irresponsible for not using her powers to become a hero. After the first few burning buildings extinguished in seconds just with a wave of her hand, however, the public has started to cry out against superheroes for not using their powers for more constructive things than just gloryseeking and showboating as comicbook heroes. There's been more than a few sidekicks and PR representatives showing up to her apartment to threaten her for making the other heroes look bad, but in the end she gets up and goes to work anyway. To her, being a hero isn't about escapism or a power fantasy. It's about making the world a safer place. If her contribution is to walk up to houses and press down on some fire, and the worst she faces for it are some self righteous nerds in spandex, then that's just fine. She isn't in it for the marketing or the approval, knowing she's saving lives is its own reward. Though... she'd be lying not to admit to letting loose a few "fireworks" for the local kids from time to time. Gotta have fun sometimes, right?	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	They knew. Long before that day, they knew, but they didn't say anything. To anyone. Most definitely outside the department. I was just another firefighter to them, albeit a really good one. A special one. I was a brother among brothers and sisters, a friend, a mentor, a savior. I was Sparks. But only among us. Even Chief knew, but he didn't say anything outside the column of steam over a bowl of chili. He didn't want the attention. I didn't want the attention. None of us wanted the attention. We had a job to do. It was our job. Nothing more. We didn't know why, but we knew what. It was Chili Day. No, firefighters do not eat chili every day. Jeeze, imagine the discomfort of slamming a bowl of chunky spice derivative then getting a long call. You can't just call timeout and head to the locker room to relieve the burn. There's no breaks. There's only the fire. The real fire, the one that eats everything relentlessly. Homes, belongings, lives. The fire that starts from sparks and ends with Sparks. So yeah, Chili Day. A steaming pot and grumbling bellies. Typical banter, insults and laughter. A growing anticipation shattered by The Sound. It shatters the soul every...damn...time. No matter how many times we hear it the first second is silence of movement. Then the next shatter, the moment. All move all at once. We explode down the pole and down the stairs. The Sound calls us to The Flame. Poor new guy, he has to harvest the chili for later. There's always a later. Not for everyone though. Lucky guy, he will have a later. I envy him, in a way. I have never missed The Flame. An apartment building, lives over lives over jobs. It's tall. That doesn't mean much, ten floors is twenty is fifty. Buildings are not measured in height, they're measured in time. How long it takes to extinguish The Flame. How long. This one is smoky. That's not good, but could be. Smoke means water, and The Flame doesn't like water. It's bad when it's just The Flame. That's when Sparks hurts the worst. We got this. Get the ladders up, get the brothers and sisters in. Help the water with the water. More and more water. There's smoke, more and more smoke. That's good. I don't see The Flame. No one sees The Flame. Just keep going. The Flame is there. No one sees the flame that sparks from my fingertips. No one sees The Flame, because I take The Flame. I take The Flame in and in and in, and the sparks. The sparks go out. Thus the name. Add the water, take The Flame, and the sparks. No one sees. No one but us. And the sparks. This one isn't too bad. There's no more but smoky. More time, but we got this. I go out for air. Real air, not from a can. I need the cool. I hurt inside. Sparks always hurts, but the cool helps. Thank goodness this was not a bad one. Chief walking towards me. He doesn't smile. He knows. He doesn't say anything, but he knows. And the world explodes. It goes like the end of the world, but it isn't. Or it could be. Chief and I get back to our feet and look. It's The Flame. THE FLAME. It's everywhere. Brothers and sisters stagger from the smoking mouth of the beast, some with hangers. A hanger speaks, coughs, collapses. Lowered to the ground, gets out a whisper. A sister stands, looks, then to us. "There's kids in there!" The Flame...what have you done? Chief looks at me. Stunned. I look at Chief. We look. I speak. "I've never taken so much." He looks. I look. There's kids in there. My coat, shucked, behind me. Joins my helmet. I walk towards the mouth, my gloves slowly revealing my hands. There's no point now. They look. All of them look. I look, at the mouth, at The Flame. I don't feel the heat. I never do. I never have. That was how I knew. And I know now, something different. "Come on," I say. To the mouth. To The Flame. And it does. I pull, I draw, I take. I TAKE. And the sparks. The Sparks. They see. They all see. But it doesn't matter anymore. I take, I take, I take take take taketaketaketaketake OH MY GOD THE HEAT I FEEL IT MY SOUL. I am Sparks. I Am Sparks. I AM AND YOU ARE MINE THE FLAME YOU SHALL NOT HAVE OUR CHILDREN. They saw. They all saw. The Flame and the sparks. Sparks. And they told everyone. They told everything. How I looked. How I walked. How I spoke, then I took, then I sparked. The glow, such that no one could see. No one saw the wind take me, my soul. But they still told everyone everything. Not the Chief. Not my brothers and sisters. They didn't say anything. They never had. They never did. They got the kids out. It was their job. There will be more smoke, more flame. There always is. But not that day. I cannot stop the flames, I am not here anymore. They will take homes, belongings, lives. But not that day. Not The Flame. I am Sparks. At least, I was.	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	There are so many ways a person can use fire. For cooking, heating a home, roasting smores. With super powers to control fire? Everyone usually lands towards one way or another. Becoming the next variation of "the human torch" in true super hero fashion. Or becoming Dabi, the hottest anime fire quirk user. There didn't seem to be any other roles. But not me. Fire, it's extremely volatile. It takes a lot of effort to put out a fire through mundane means. It's easily the most destructive power any super could have. One wrong move could involve millions of collateral damage and innocent lives destroyed. Supers, villains, anti heroes all actively use their fire. Me? I'm a fire fighter. I put them out. Which brings me to where I'm standing at the moment. A high rise apartment building in the middle of downtown. A kitchen fire started somewhere up on the 30th floor and was spreading upwards. From what we could determine, everyone on the 29th floors and below had all escaped as their fire doors and sprinklers activated. But the firedoors leading up to the top floors, along with the sprinkler system had malfunctioned and was causing utter chaos and destruction. Where were the fire supers? Not here, that's for damn sure. They used their powers on the daily to set stuff ON fire. They hadn't a clue how to put it out. So here I was, being lifted atop a fire engine ladder as high as it could go. 10 stories. That's it. I'd have to book it up the remaining 19 on foot via the stairs. While i could technically fling myself up the landings like a rocket, i try not to cause more damage to the structure than it's already experiencing. And that amount of fire power required is quite literally explosive. No thank you. By the time i smash through the fire doors on level 29, I've been informed the fire had spread to the 35th floor. I had to move quickly. I rushed to the room reported to have the fire start in. It was unbearably hot. Grease fire with plenty of fuel to eat and make it hotter. The doorway was little more than a wall of flame at this point. I walked straight in. The bonus of being a fire power was that we immune to all but the temp of the sun. Or at least none of us had yet attempted to subject ourselves to such heat. I wore no fire suit. No oxygen tank. It would only be a liability in this scenario. In the middle of what had been the kitchen i stood and closed my eyes. And then i drew it all back in. Every single lick of heat and flame that started from this room i pulled at it with everything i had. Slow at first. Then Tugging harder and harder. targeting all areas. Sliding the raw heat and power beneath my skin towards my heart where i contain the flame and keep gathering it. The ear piece in my ear started to melt so i absentmindedly flicked it out before it got caught in my ear canal... again. I pull with everything I've got. Calling the fire toward my own inner flame. It's starting to ache now. How much exactly did this fire spread? I'm full on panting and actually sweating when i realize something is truly wrong. I'm struggling to keep this in. My heart is beating so fast and it hurts. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Still i keep pulling. My muscles begin to quake under the strain. It feels like I've been running marathons across the entire country and back again nonstop. I fall to my knees and take in deep, shaky breaths. God this hurts. And still, i pull. I'm so tired but I'm becoming more angry than anything else. The F is wrong with this fire? I'm seething, panting, sweating buckets, and I'm still taking it all in. With a great big yank and a purely pissed off roar i twist a big final swath of the flame inside me and pass out.	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	Some people tell me that it is a complete waste of talent. I don't think that is fair or true. Now if I was a lifeguard or a dental assistant, that would be a complete waste of talent. But being able to control fire is actually a pretty good use of talent for a firefighter in my opinion. I know it is the most ambitious thing to do. I could be out there fighting super crimes and super villains. But that always sounded like one of those professions where you take your work home with you, like you are always on call. I prefer the fire department because when I go home I don't have to worry about anything. Plus our station has bagel Wednesdays. And they always buy an extra cheddar jalapeno just for me. C'mon, you can't do better than that. I know there are Supervillains out there with ice powers. I am always reminded about it by pretty much everyone I know. How I could wipe them out so easily. But what am I going to do? Go out and find them? I don't know where they are hiding, you know what I do know? I know that if I get to level 50 on my Spider-Man game I will unlock some new costumes. And I am determined.	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	"I told them no. Over and over again I told them no. I had no interest in becoming a hero like my father or mother. I just wanted to move about in public with my normal face; not looking over my shoulder for some villain to screw with my day. Hell even at dinner the other day, a spoon dropped from the table and my Mom melted it with lasers from her eyes. Who wants to live like that?" Grumbled a young man laid back in a patted lounger. The thing was lumpy as all could be, and someone definitely sat in it after a gym workout. Wreaking of sweat and other bodily stenches. Though he figured given how he was sitting with a super therapist, it probably was after the individual finished "work". This office was a joke too. How could one remain calm when cannons sat at every corner of the room, ready to stun him if he showed too much aggression. The blank walls left him with nothing to look at but her. Someone altogether more annoying than the room itself. She sat there with legs crossed, clipboard in hand, glasses tilted downwards, in a stern outfit, and a pen scribbling away as he spoke. Dam, did he wish he spark it and melt the utensil in her hand. At the mere thought of such an action the cannons aimed towards him with a whirling sound. "At ease." Commanded the woman with the clipboard. "Ignis. I agree with you. The life of a hero isn't the most comfortable. They make a lot of sacrifices, but we can help others in ways normal humans can't. Don't you think we should use them that way?" "Hell no." Retorted Ignis. "Most humans wouldn't help each other with simple needs like food let alone put their lives on the line. Even those who do get paid less than pretty boys and girls performing like monkeys in front of cameras." "Quite the image you conjured." Stated the woman as she pushed up her glasses. "Then tell me this, why did you save that family?" Ignis fiddle with his hands before answering, "Cause it wasn't their problem. Dad went overboard yelling at me and set the house on fire with his electricity. When Mom tried to calm him down with her eyes it turned into a brawl. They were so busy fighting they didn't even notice our neighbors house on fire. So... I ran inside. They helped me plenty times before when my folks were "out", why shouldn't I help them back?" "It was a noble gesture Ignis. Nothing to be ashamed of." Replied his questioner with a sweet smile. The young man blushed slightly before grumbling, "So what happens to me now? Foster family, government facility, or jail?" The woman unclicked her pen, stood slowly up, and headed out the door. Before doing so she turned to him, "I've got something else in mind. I'm having you live at a fire station. I know someone similar to you who runs the facility. He'll keep you under his wing so to speak. And here." She paused throwing him the pen. "Melt that to a puddle just keep it off the stinky lounger." This last part she said with a small smile before walking out of the room. "Fire fighter huh?" Ignis said aloud. "Sounds normal enough."	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	My friend Dom led the force in hot-saves with a total of 340. Chief Lewis tells me he’s never heard of anyone ever getting above 90 without serious injury. You could say that Dom was cut from a different cloth or cast from a different mould. I would say that Dom was forged in a different fire and I mean that literally. Anyone who knew of Dom would tell you that he was special—that much was evident even to distant observers. What made Dom special? Was it that he was the bravest man on the force? Was it that he was the strongest man I’ve ever met? Was it that he was a super hero? He was all of those things, but those were not what made him special. No, what made my friend Dom special was his unique sense of duty and self-sacrifice. At every turn he was putting himself on the shelf and doing whatever he could to help other people. Many of us talk about helping others. Many of us have the best intentions—hell, I‘ve been intending to volunteer at a food bank for years—but Dom put his actions on display. Dom led by example. None of us would be here today if not for Dom’s sacrifice. At the end, Dom never hesitated. He’d call me after days of meetings with Dr. Holdwell going over the science and he sounded tired, but never discouraged. As the temperature rose, and the clock ticked, Dom knew his time was short, but he never dwelled on that. No, our calls focused on his joy at knowing he could help. “How lucky am I that I can know the reason I was put on Earth? How many people can say that they know their true purpose?” I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to make this harder on Dom. But I wish I would have told him that he was put on this Earth to be my friend. He was put on this Earth to be an uncle to my boy. He was put on this Earth to show us how to be better. Instead, I let those words go unsaid. I’ll never forget the last time I saw him. It was the day before last. He called me and asked to meet at Flanigan’s just as we had for years before. The day was sweltering—as every day had been leading up to it—and we had to chug our beers lest they warm before we finish them. I see some of his crew mates smiling down there—that’s something else Dom was known for, that bastard could put away a brew. Anyway, we spoke about our childhood, about my son, about the oddity that is life. He saw my tears and…and—I’m sorry—he said to me, “I’m not going to be around anymore, Ted. I need you to know I love you, man. I’ve gotta do this, but just know I’ve loved every minute of my life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” That was the kind of man my friend was. Marching to his own demise yet comforting me. Dom was an honest man, but the last thing he said to me was a lie. There was something he would trade his life for, he did trade his life for. My life. My boy’s life. Your life. All of ours. The sun literally set on Dom, so that it may shine on us once more. He gave the last of himself to ward off a cataclysm. All I can do—all any of us can do—is to make the most of the lives he’s given us. And to try our best to live in a way that does service to his memory. I’ll remember him every day of the rest of my life. I’ll miss him every day for the rest of my life. Rest in Peace, Dom. I love you, bud. __________ Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	Here on Fox News, we are covering the story of The Amazon, catching on fire. This seems to not be able to be contained nothing we can do to stop this.” eternal flame” we have dumped so much water on this we don’t even want to bore you about how much water it was and it didn’t even go down a little bit. It seems nothing that we do takes this fire down * all of the fireman at the scene* we need to call HIM he must be able to deal with us. He’s a fire whisperer he arrives in the fire. Just disappears like nothing happened in the first place the chief of the fire department runs to call HIM He arrives at the scene 30 minutes later. With one big wave of his hand, he completely extinguishes the fire spanning across 1000 mi.² of fire. Everybody all of the news reporters and everything are speechless. One guy just waved his hand and this fire that seemed unstoppable just stopped, but then, as everyone was cheering and excitement, the fire started again, but this time it was bigger.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	It had been a rough few months since revealing her powers. There was a lot of friction at first, she got called irresponsible for not using her powers to become a hero. After the first few burning buildings extinguished in seconds just with a wave of her hand, however, the public has started to cry out against superheroes for not using their powers for more constructive things than just gloryseeking and showboating as comicbook heroes. There's been more than a few sidekicks and PR representatives showing up to her apartment to threaten her for making the other heroes look bad, but in the end she gets up and goes to work anyway. To her, being a hero isn't about escapism or a power fantasy. It's about making the world a safer place. If her contribution is to walk up to houses and press down on some fire, and the worst she faces for it are some self righteous nerds in spandex, then that's just fine. She isn't in it for the marketing or the approval, knowing she's saving lives is its own reward. Though... she'd be lying not to admit to letting loose a few "fireworks" for the local kids from time to time. Gotta have fun sometimes, right?	As a young boy, you always knew that you were different from your peers. While other kids your age struggled to light candles or matches, you could ignite a flame with just a thought. It wasn't long before you discovered that you had the ability to control fire, and you were determined to use your gift for good. You spent years honing your skills, and when you turned 18, you decided to become a firefighter. Your superiors were skeptical at first, but they quickly realized that your abilities made you an invaluable asset to the team. You became known as the "Fire Ryder"....😎 You were always ready to face any challenge that came your way. But one night, while you were off duty and heavily intoxicated, you stumbled upon a burning building. Despite your impaired state, you didn't hesitate to rush inside and search for any trapped residents. You managed to rescue several people from the flames, singing the lyrics to the "Paw Patrol" theme song to keep yourself focused and motivated. "Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, we'll be there on the double! Whenever there's a problem, round up the pups and go! Ryder, Ryder, he's the leader of the pack! Whenever you're in trouble, just give a yip, yip, yap! Paw Patrol, Paw Patrol, when danger calls, we'll be there to save the day!" As you were making your way back out, a beam fell and trapped you inside. Your team tried to rescue you, but it was too late. The fire consumed you, and you died a hero, having sacrificed your own life to save others. Some say they can still hear a faint "yip, yip, yap" when walking past.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	There are so many ways a person can use fire. For cooking, heating a home, roasting smores. With super powers to control fire? Everyone usually lands towards one way or another. Becoming the next variation of "the human torch" in true super hero fashion. Or becoming Dabi, the hottest anime fire quirk user. There didn't seem to be any other roles. But not me. Fire, it's extremely volatile. It takes a lot of effort to put out a fire through mundane means. It's easily the most destructive power any super could have. One wrong move could involve millions of collateral damage and innocent lives destroyed. Supers, villains, anti heroes all actively use their fire. Me? I'm a fire fighter. I put them out. Which brings me to where I'm standing at the moment. A high rise apartment building in the middle of downtown. A kitchen fire started somewhere up on the 30th floor and was spreading upwards. From what we could determine, everyone on the 29th floors and below had all escaped as their fire doors and sprinklers activated. But the firedoors leading up to the top floors, along with the sprinkler system had malfunctioned and was causing utter chaos and destruction. Where were the fire supers? Not here, that's for damn sure. They used their powers on the daily to set stuff ON fire. They hadn't a clue how to put it out. So here I was, being lifted atop a fire engine ladder as high as it could go. 10 stories. That's it. I'd have to book it up the remaining 19 on foot via the stairs. While i could technically fling myself up the landings like a rocket, i try not to cause more damage to the structure than it's already experiencing. And that amount of fire power required is quite literally explosive. No thank you. By the time i smash through the fire doors on level 29, I've been informed the fire had spread to the 35th floor. I had to move quickly. I rushed to the room reported to have the fire start in. It was unbearably hot. Grease fire with plenty of fuel to eat and make it hotter. The doorway was little more than a wall of flame at this point. I walked straight in. The bonus of being a fire power was that we immune to all but the temp of the sun. Or at least none of us had yet attempted to subject ourselves to such heat. I wore no fire suit. No oxygen tank. It would only be a liability in this scenario. In the middle of what had been the kitchen i stood and closed my eyes. And then i drew it all back in. Every single lick of heat and flame that started from this room i pulled at it with everything i had. Slow at first. Then Tugging harder and harder. targeting all areas. Sliding the raw heat and power beneath my skin towards my heart where i contain the flame and keep gathering it. The ear piece in my ear started to melt so i absentmindedly flicked it out before it got caught in my ear canal... again. I pull with everything I've got. Calling the fire toward my own inner flame. It's starting to ache now. How much exactly did this fire spread? I'm full on panting and actually sweating when i realize something is truly wrong. I'm struggling to keep this in. My heart is beating so fast and it hurts. Is this what a heart attack feels like? Still i keep pulling. My muscles begin to quake under the strain. It feels like I've been running marathons across the entire country and back again nonstop. I fall to my knees and take in deep, shaky breaths. God this hurts. And still, i pull. I'm so tired but I'm becoming more angry than anything else. The F is wrong with this fire? I'm seething, panting, sweating buckets, and I'm still taking it all in. With a great big yank and a purely pissed off roar i twist a big final swath of the flame inside me and pass out.	They knew. Long before that day, they knew, but they didn't say anything. To anyone. Most definitely outside the department. I was just another firefighter to them, albeit a really good one. A special one. I was a brother among brothers and sisters, a friend, a mentor, a savior. I was Sparks. But only among us. Even Chief knew, but he didn't say anything outside the column of steam over a bowl of chili. He didn't want the attention. I didn't want the attention. None of us wanted the attention. We had a job to do. It was our job. Nothing more. We didn't know why, but we knew what. It was Chili Day. No, firefighters do not eat chili every day. Jeeze, imagine the discomfort of slamming a bowl of chunky spice derivative then getting a long call. You can't just call timeout and head to the locker room to relieve the burn. There's no breaks. There's only the fire. The real fire, the one that eats everything relentlessly. Homes, belongings, lives. The fire that starts from sparks and ends with Sparks. So yeah, Chili Day. A steaming pot and grumbling bellies. Typical banter, insults and laughter. A growing anticipation shattered by The Sound. It shatters the soul every...damn...time. No matter how many times we hear it the first second is silence of movement. Then the next shatter, the moment. All move all at once. We explode down the pole and down the stairs. The Sound calls us to The Flame. Poor new guy, he has to harvest the chili for later. There's always a later. Not for everyone though. Lucky guy, he will have a later. I envy him, in a way. I have never missed The Flame. An apartment building, lives over lives over jobs. It's tall. That doesn't mean much, ten floors is twenty is fifty. Buildings are not measured in height, they're measured in time. How long it takes to extinguish The Flame. How long. This one is smoky. That's not good, but could be. Smoke means water, and The Flame doesn't like water. It's bad when it's just The Flame. That's when Sparks hurts the worst. We got this. Get the ladders up, get the brothers and sisters in. Help the water with the water. More and more water. There's smoke, more and more smoke. That's good. I don't see The Flame. No one sees The Flame. Just keep going. The Flame is there. No one sees the flame that sparks from my fingertips. No one sees The Flame, because I take The Flame. I take The Flame in and in and in, and the sparks. The sparks go out. Thus the name. Add the water, take The Flame, and the sparks. No one sees. No one but us. And the sparks. This one isn't too bad. There's no more but smoky. More time, but we got this. I go out for air. Real air, not from a can. I need the cool. I hurt inside. Sparks always hurts, but the cool helps. Thank goodness this was not a bad one. Chief walking towards me. He doesn't smile. He knows. He doesn't say anything, but he knows. And the world explodes. It goes like the end of the world, but it isn't. Or it could be. Chief and I get back to our feet and look. It's The Flame. THE FLAME. It's everywhere. Brothers and sisters stagger from the smoking mouth of the beast, some with hangers. A hanger speaks, coughs, collapses. Lowered to the ground, gets out a whisper. A sister stands, looks, then to us. "There's kids in there!" The Flame...what have you done? Chief looks at me. Stunned. I look at Chief. We look. I speak. "I've never taken so much." He looks. I look. There's kids in there. My coat, shucked, behind me. Joins my helmet. I walk towards the mouth, my gloves slowly revealing my hands. There's no point now. They look. All of them look. I look, at the mouth, at The Flame. I don't feel the heat. I never do. I never have. That was how I knew. And I know now, something different. "Come on," I say. To the mouth. To The Flame. And it does. I pull, I draw, I take. I TAKE. And the sparks. The Sparks. They see. They all see. But it doesn't matter anymore. I take, I take, I take take take taketaketaketaketake OH MY GOD THE HEAT I FEEL IT MY SOUL. I am Sparks. I Am Sparks. I AM AND YOU ARE MINE THE FLAME YOU SHALL NOT HAVE OUR CHILDREN. They saw. They all saw. The Flame and the sparks. Sparks. And they told everyone. They told everything. How I looked. How I walked. How I spoke, then I took, then I sparked. The glow, such that no one could see. No one saw the wind take me, my soul. But they still told everyone everything. Not the Chief. Not my brothers and sisters. They didn't say anything. They never had. They never did. They got the kids out. It was their job. There will be more smoke, more flame. There always is. But not that day. I cannot stop the flames, I am not here anymore. They will take homes, belongings, lives. But not that day. Not The Flame. I am Sparks. At least, I was.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	Some people tell me that it is a complete waste of talent. I don't think that is fair or true. Now if I was a lifeguard or a dental assistant, that would be a complete waste of talent. But being able to control fire is actually a pretty good use of talent for a firefighter in my opinion. I know it is the most ambitious thing to do. I could be out there fighting super crimes and super villains. But that always sounded like one of those professions where you take your work home with you, like you are always on call. I prefer the fire department because when I go home I don't have to worry about anything. Plus our station has bagel Wednesdays. And they always buy an extra cheddar jalapeno just for me. C'mon, you can't do better than that. I know there are Supervillains out there with ice powers. I am always reminded about it by pretty much everyone I know. How I could wipe them out so easily. But what am I going to do? Go out and find them? I don't know where they are hiding, you know what I do know? I know that if I get to level 50 on my Spider-Man game I will unlock some new costumes. And I am determined.	The plan was simple. Run in, save the kid without him getting burnt, and then pretend like I put out the fire with my skills, but of course my life is never that easy. The kid saw my use my power and told everyone, just like they always do. I had to move again. Soon the wrong people are going to learn about me and I'll be put on display like every other wannabe hero that got too popular. All I want to do is just save people without getting caught, is that too much to ask? There is a knock from the front door. Terrified, I open the door to see law enforcement. "What can I do for you?" I quietly ask, looking around to count how many there were. "Please step outside, we were told that there was a vigilante in the area and we wish to investigate the premises, because hiding a vigilante is a federal offense." I oblige nervously, hoping they don't pick the lock to the wardrobe. After a while, they leave, thanking me for my cooperation. This will happen again.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	"I told them no. Over and over again I told them no. I had no interest in becoming a hero like my father or mother. I just wanted to move about in public with my normal face; not looking over my shoulder for some villain to screw with my day. Hell even at dinner the other day, a spoon dropped from the table and my Mom melted it with lasers from her eyes. Who wants to live like that?" Grumbled a young man laid back in a patted lounger. The thing was lumpy as all could be, and someone definitely sat in it after a gym workout. Wreaking of sweat and other bodily stenches. Though he figured given how he was sitting with a super therapist, it probably was after the individual finished "work". This office was a joke too. How could one remain calm when cannons sat at every corner of the room, ready to stun him if he showed too much aggression. The blank walls left him with nothing to look at but her. Someone altogether more annoying than the room itself. She sat there with legs crossed, clipboard in hand, glasses tilted downwards, in a stern outfit, and a pen scribbling away as he spoke. Dam, did he wish he spark it and melt the utensil in her hand. At the mere thought of such an action the cannons aimed towards him with a whirling sound. "At ease." Commanded the woman with the clipboard. "Ignis. I agree with you. The life of a hero isn't the most comfortable. They make a lot of sacrifices, but we can help others in ways normal humans can't. Don't you think we should use them that way?" "Hell no." Retorted Ignis. "Most humans wouldn't help each other with simple needs like food let alone put their lives on the line. Even those who do get paid less than pretty boys and girls performing like monkeys in front of cameras." "Quite the image you conjured." Stated the woman as she pushed up her glasses. "Then tell me this, why did you save that family?" Ignis fiddle with his hands before answering, "Cause it wasn't their problem. Dad went overboard yelling at me and set the house on fire with his electricity. When Mom tried to calm him down with her eyes it turned into a brawl. They were so busy fighting they didn't even notice our neighbors house on fire. So... I ran inside. They helped me plenty times before when my folks were "out", why shouldn't I help them back?" "It was a noble gesture Ignis. Nothing to be ashamed of." Replied his questioner with a sweet smile. The young man blushed slightly before grumbling, "So what happens to me now? Foster family, government facility, or jail?" The woman unclicked her pen, stood slowly up, and headed out the door. Before doing so she turned to him, "I've got something else in mind. I'm having you live at a fire station. I know someone similar to you who runs the facility. He'll keep you under his wing so to speak. And here." She paused throwing him the pen. "Melt that to a puddle just keep it off the stinky lounger." This last part she said with a small smile before walking out of the room. "Fire fighter huh?" Ignis said aloud. "Sounds normal enough."	The plan was simple. Run in, save the kid without him getting burnt, and then pretend like I put out the fire with my skills, but of course my life is never that easy. The kid saw my use my power and told everyone, just like they always do. I had to move again. Soon the wrong people are going to learn about me and I'll be put on display like every other wannabe hero that got too popular. All I want to do is just save people without getting caught, is that too much to ask? There is a knock from the front door. Terrified, I open the door to see law enforcement. "What can I do for you?" I quietly ask, looking around to count how many there were. "Please step outside, we were told that there was a vigilante in the area and we wish to investigate the premises, because hiding a vigilante is a federal offense." I oblige nervously, hoping they don't pick the lock to the wardrobe. After a while, they leave, thanking me for my cooperation. This will happen again.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	My friend Dom led the force in hot-saves with a total of 340. Chief Lewis tells me he’s never heard of anyone ever getting above 90 without serious injury. You could say that Dom was cut from a different cloth or cast from a different mould. I would say that Dom was forged in a different fire and I mean that literally. Anyone who knew of Dom would tell you that he was special—that much was evident even to distant observers. What made Dom special? Was it that he was the bravest man on the force? Was it that he was the strongest man I’ve ever met? Was it that he was a super hero? He was all of those things, but those were not what made him special. No, what made my friend Dom special was his unique sense of duty and self-sacrifice. At every turn he was putting himself on the shelf and doing whatever he could to help other people. Many of us talk about helping others. Many of us have the best intentions—hell, I‘ve been intending to volunteer at a food bank for years—but Dom put his actions on display. Dom led by example. None of us would be here today if not for Dom’s sacrifice. At the end, Dom never hesitated. He’d call me after days of meetings with Dr. Holdwell going over the science and he sounded tired, but never discouraged. As the temperature rose, and the clock ticked, Dom knew his time was short, but he never dwelled on that. No, our calls focused on his joy at knowing he could help. “How lucky am I that I can know the reason I was put on Earth? How many people can say that they know their true purpose?” I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to make this harder on Dom. But I wish I would have told him that he was put on this Earth to be my friend. He was put on this Earth to be an uncle to my boy. He was put on this Earth to show us how to be better. Instead, I let those words go unsaid. I’ll never forget the last time I saw him. It was the day before last. He called me and asked to meet at Flanigan’s just as we had for years before. The day was sweltering—as every day had been leading up to it—and we had to chug our beers lest they warm before we finish them. I see some of his crew mates smiling down there—that’s something else Dom was known for, that bastard could put away a brew. Anyway, we spoke about our childhood, about my son, about the oddity that is life. He saw my tears and…and—I’m sorry—he said to me, “I’m not going to be around anymore, Ted. I need you to know I love you, man. I’ve gotta do this, but just know I’ve loved every minute of my life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” That was the kind of man my friend was. Marching to his own demise yet comforting me. Dom was an honest man, but the last thing he said to me was a lie. There was something he would trade his life for, he did trade his life for. My life. My boy’s life. Your life. All of ours. The sun literally set on Dom, so that it may shine on us once more. He gave the last of himself to ward off a cataclysm. All I can do—all any of us can do—is to make the most of the lives he’s given us. And to try our best to live in a way that does service to his memory. I’ll remember him every day of the rest of my life. I’ll miss him every day for the rest of my life. Rest in Peace, Dom. I love you, bud. __________ Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	The plan was simple. Run in, save the kid without him getting burnt, and then pretend like I put out the fire with my skills, but of course my life is never that easy. The kid saw my use my power and told everyone, just like they always do. I had to move again. Soon the wrong people are going to learn about me and I'll be put on display like every other wannabe hero that got too popular. All I want to do is just save people without getting caught, is that too much to ask? There is a knock from the front door. Terrified, I open the door to see law enforcement. "What can I do for you?" I quietly ask, looking around to count how many there were. "Please step outside, we were told that there was a vigilante in the area and we wish to investigate the premises, because hiding a vigilante is a federal offense." I oblige nervously, hoping they don't pick the lock to the wardrobe. After a while, they leave, thanking me for my cooperation. This will happen again.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	"I told them no. Over and over again I told them no. I had no interest in becoming a hero like my father or mother. I just wanted to move about in public with my normal face; not looking over my shoulder for some villain to screw with my day. Hell even at dinner the other day, a spoon dropped from the table and my Mom melted it with lasers from her eyes. Who wants to live like that?" Grumbled a young man laid back in a patted lounger. The thing was lumpy as all could be, and someone definitely sat in it after a gym workout. Wreaking of sweat and other bodily stenches. Though he figured given how he was sitting with a super therapist, it probably was after the individual finished "work". This office was a joke too. How could one remain calm when cannons sat at every corner of the room, ready to stun him if he showed too much aggression. The blank walls left him with nothing to look at but her. Someone altogether more annoying than the room itself. She sat there with legs crossed, clipboard in hand, glasses tilted downwards, in a stern outfit, and a pen scribbling away as he spoke. Dam, did he wish he spark it and melt the utensil in her hand. At the mere thought of such an action the cannons aimed towards him with a whirling sound. "At ease." Commanded the woman with the clipboard. "Ignis. I agree with you. The life of a hero isn't the most comfortable. They make a lot of sacrifices, but we can help others in ways normal humans can't. Don't you think we should use them that way?" "Hell no." Retorted Ignis. "Most humans wouldn't help each other with simple needs like food let alone put their lives on the line. Even those who do get paid less than pretty boys and girls performing like monkeys in front of cameras." "Quite the image you conjured." Stated the woman as she pushed up her glasses. "Then tell me this, why did you save that family?" Ignis fiddle with his hands before answering, "Cause it wasn't their problem. Dad went overboard yelling at me and set the house on fire with his electricity. When Mom tried to calm him down with her eyes it turned into a brawl. They were so busy fighting they didn't even notice our neighbors house on fire. So... I ran inside. They helped me plenty times before when my folks were "out", why shouldn't I help them back?" "It was a noble gesture Ignis. Nothing to be ashamed of." Replied his questioner with a sweet smile. The young man blushed slightly before grumbling, "So what happens to me now? Foster family, government facility, or jail?" The woman unclicked her pen, stood slowly up, and headed out the door. Before doing so she turned to him, "I've got something else in mind. I'm having you live at a fire station. I know someone similar to you who runs the facility. He'll keep you under his wing so to speak. And here." She paused throwing him the pen. "Melt that to a puddle just keep it off the stinky lounger." This last part she said with a small smile before walking out of the room. "Fire fighter huh?" Ignis said aloud. "Sounds normal enough."	Some people tell me that it is a complete waste of talent. I don't think that is fair or true. Now if I was a lifeguard or a dental assistant, that would be a complete waste of talent. But being able to control fire is actually a pretty good use of talent for a firefighter in my opinion. I know it is the most ambitious thing to do. I could be out there fighting super crimes and super villains. But that always sounded like one of those professions where you take your work home with you, like you are always on call. I prefer the fire department because when I go home I don't have to worry about anything. Plus our station has bagel Wednesdays. And they always buy an extra cheddar jalapeno just for me. C'mon, you can't do better than that. I know there are Supervillains out there with ice powers. I am always reminded about it by pretty much everyone I know. How I could wipe them out so easily. But what am I going to do? Go out and find them? I don't know where they are hiding, you know what I do know? I know that if I get to level 50 on my Spider-Man game I will unlock some new costumes. And I am determined.
	[WP] You we’re born with the ability to control fire, but instead of becoming a superhero, you set your sights on a much more attainable goal: You became the worlds greatest firefighter.	My friend Dom led the force in hot-saves with a total of 340. Chief Lewis tells me he’s never heard of anyone ever getting above 90 without serious injury. You could say that Dom was cut from a different cloth or cast from a different mould. I would say that Dom was forged in a different fire and I mean that literally. Anyone who knew of Dom would tell you that he was special—that much was evident even to distant observers. What made Dom special? Was it that he was the bravest man on the force? Was it that he was the strongest man I’ve ever met? Was it that he was a super hero? He was all of those things, but those were not what made him special. No, what made my friend Dom special was his unique sense of duty and self-sacrifice. At every turn he was putting himself on the shelf and doing whatever he could to help other people. Many of us talk about helping others. Many of us have the best intentions—hell, I‘ve been intending to volunteer at a food bank for years—but Dom put his actions on display. Dom led by example. None of us would be here today if not for Dom’s sacrifice. At the end, Dom never hesitated. He’d call me after days of meetings with Dr. Holdwell going over the science and he sounded tired, but never discouraged. As the temperature rose, and the clock ticked, Dom knew his time was short, but he never dwelled on that. No, our calls focused on his joy at knowing he could help. “How lucky am I that I can know the reason I was put on Earth? How many people can say that they know their true purpose?” I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want to make this harder on Dom. But I wish I would have told him that he was put on this Earth to be my friend. He was put on this Earth to be an uncle to my boy. He was put on this Earth to show us how to be better. Instead, I let those words go unsaid. I’ll never forget the last time I saw him. It was the day before last. He called me and asked to meet at Flanigan’s just as we had for years before. The day was sweltering—as every day had been leading up to it—and we had to chug our beers lest they warm before we finish them. I see some of his crew mates smiling down there—that’s something else Dom was known for, that bastard could put away a brew. Anyway, we spoke about our childhood, about my son, about the oddity that is life. He saw my tears and…and—I’m sorry—he said to me, “I’m not going to be around anymore, Ted. I need you to know I love you, man. I’ve gotta do this, but just know I’ve loved every minute of my life. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” That was the kind of man my friend was. Marching to his own demise yet comforting me. Dom was an honest man, but the last thing he said to me was a lie. There was something he would trade his life for, he did trade his life for. My life. My boy’s life. Your life. All of ours. The sun literally set on Dom, so that it may shine on us once more. He gave the last of himself to ward off a cataclysm. All I can do—all any of us can do—is to make the most of the lives he’s given us. And to try our best to live in a way that does service to his memory. I’ll remember him every day of the rest of my life. I’ll miss him every day for the rest of my life. Rest in Peace, Dom. I love you, bud. __________ Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this, please check out my other stories at r/InMyLife42Archive	Some people tell me that it is a complete waste of talent. I don't think that is fair or true. Now if I was a lifeguard or a dental assistant, that would be a complete waste of talent. But being able to control fire is actually a pretty good use of talent for a firefighter in my opinion. I know it is the most ambitious thing to do. I could be out there fighting super crimes and super villains. But that always sounded like one of those professions where you take your work home with you, like you are always on call. I prefer the fire department because when I go home I don't have to worry about anything. Plus our station has bagel Wednesdays. And they always buy an extra cheddar jalapeno just for me. C'mon, you can't do better than that. I know there are Supervillains out there with ice powers. I am always reminded about it by pretty much everyone I know. How I could wipe them out so easily. But what am I going to do? Go out and find them? I don't know where they are hiding, you know what I do know? I know that if I get to level 50 on my Spider-Man game I will unlock some new costumes. And I am determined.
	[WP] Everybody has heard of your 7 siblings. Nobody is aware of you though. The 8th Deadly Sin.	What I would find interesting about mortals is their supposed fear of my siblings. They believe my siblings want to bring them harm, that my siblings want them to suffer, that they hate mortals. If it mattered, I would say mortals are so misguided. My siblings do not hate mortals. They love mortals. They only want the best for them. It is their love for mortals that makes them push humanity on. It is because of me that my siblings are called Sins. Pride doesn't enjoy when the mortals fall from the heights Pride himself had lead them. Pride would rather the mortals keep climbing higher. Without me, Pride would be Self-Esteem. Wrath would have mortals to use her influence protect that which they hold dear. She takes no joy when mortals use me to corrupt that influence to harm the weak. Wrath would be Protection had the humans not found me. Lust wishes their mortals would not find them too soon, but so many mortals use me to force others to find my sibling. Lust would prefer mortals find them safely and naturally as Maturity. Greed wants mortals to live in bliss without worry or fear. Greed laments when mortals use his true name, Ambition, to build their opulence on the backs of those less fortunate. Gluttony feels so hollow when humans use me to justify their excess. He mourns his mortals losing sight of his true purpose, Fulfilment. Sloth taught humans to use her name, Rest, to bring them comfort from their work. She taught them to find balance between work and play. Alas, mortals had me used me to forget to go back to work. Poor Envy cried when brother killed brother in a fit of jealousy. She cried when the mortals twisted her name Justice to justify taking what belonged to others instead of attaining it themselves through their own efforts, not caring who it hurt. My siblings are not evil. Evil is power and ambition without compassion. They are not trying to hurt you mortals. They work to keep you from me. They shudder when I am near, because mortals use me to forget the consequences and effects of their actions. But like my siblings, I do not hate mortals, nor do I resent my siblings for trying to hide my name from their mortals. I am not vengeance or justice, I am complacency. I am not hatred nor love, I am their opposite. I am not evil or good, I simply do not care. I am Apathy	Siblings you call them The regrets that you lable, sins and brethren In your writing, your music and your pitiful hearts. Im always forgotten The beast that is silent and leaves you broken The "friend" that allows you to excuse yourself from being alive. The eighth sin as you would say I am fear, the cold shiver down your spine The numbness of not being able to move when you see a figure in your room I am the feat that consumes you, that controls your very life. Some very few think they leave me behind, get over me as you'd say But I'm always there ready to awaken a new darkness in your mind Breathing down your neck the moment you awake for your day And the moment you fall asleep in a pitch black room My fingers will grasp your throat, your heart and your eyes Show you things that you'll blame on the shadows I will always be here Your very very best friend Fear
	[WP] Everybody has heard of your 7 siblings. Nobody is aware of you though. The 8th Deadly Sin.	What I would find interesting about mortals is their supposed fear of my siblings. They believe my siblings want to bring them harm, that my siblings want them to suffer, that they hate mortals. If it mattered, I would say mortals are so misguided. My siblings do not hate mortals. They love mortals. They only want the best for them. It is their love for mortals that makes them push humanity on. It is because of me that my siblings are called Sins. Pride doesn't enjoy when the mortals fall from the heights Pride himself had lead them. Pride would rather the mortals keep climbing higher. Without me, Pride would be Self-Esteem. Wrath would have mortals to use her influence protect that which they hold dear. She takes no joy when mortals use me to corrupt that influence to harm the weak. Wrath would be Protection had the humans not found me. Lust wishes their mortals would not find them too soon, but so many mortals use me to force others to find my sibling. Lust would prefer mortals find them safely and naturally as Maturity. Greed wants mortals to live in bliss without worry or fear. Greed laments when mortals use his true name, Ambition, to build their opulence on the backs of those less fortunate. Gluttony feels so hollow when humans use me to justify their excess. He mourns his mortals losing sight of his true purpose, Fulfilment. Sloth taught humans to use her name, Rest, to bring them comfort from their work. She taught them to find balance between work and play. Alas, mortals had me used me to forget to go back to work. Poor Envy cried when brother killed brother in a fit of jealousy. She cried when the mortals twisted her name Justice to justify taking what belonged to others instead of attaining it themselves through their own efforts, not caring who it hurt. My siblings are not evil. Evil is power and ambition without compassion. They are not trying to hurt you mortals. They work to keep you from me. They shudder when I am near, because mortals use me to forget the consequences and effects of their actions. But like my siblings, I do not hate mortals, nor do I resent my siblings for trying to hide my name from their mortals. I am not vengeance or justice, I am complacency. I am not hatred nor love, I am their opposite. I am not evil or good, I simply do not care. I am Apathy	Ignorance is a powerful tool. It can make the most ground breaking discoveries and events to be nothing other than junk mail. Humans have mastered the concept of ignorance, utilising it in their daily lives. Shieling their own minds from the chaos and corruption around them in a thinly vailed circle of 'It's not my problem'. &#x200B; I strongly believe I am the cornerstone of all deadly sins as I am the only true rebuttal to humans countermeasures against us. &#x200B; But you can't hit, what you don't care about, That's the main reason why most of you don't know of me. I'm apart of faded memory, hiding in the shadows, keeping you uninterested in the world around you. Letting the oceans rise as fast as corruption. Tricking you to turn a blind eye. That's me.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	David was gay. So gay that a circle was straighter than him. He was the gayest. Or that's what he liked to think. So when he ends up in a fucked up anime world with ten or so female abominations clinging on him, he can't help but feel frustrated. The ladies are complete bestie material; don't get him wrong, but why is there not a single male option? How stupid that can be? The world building is interesting tought. He is a man called Orpheus, the crowned prince of a huge nation in a middle-aged fantasy japan. There's ten love interests. David watched enough anime to know how this works. Sai- A shy red panda hybrid or something like that. She's rather small and really soft hearted. She loves animals. Your typical kawai girl. Her hair is copper red, and her eyes are chocolate brown. She has the ears and tail of a red panda. Kotae- A servant girl with huge white wings, a swan, is his best guess. She's kind and really pretty. She has long silwer hair and deep crystal blue eyes with rosy lips and pale skin. Juki- She's the daughter of a duke or something. David did not pay any attention. She's a cat hybrid with blonde hair and yellow eyes. Her tail and ears are ginger coloured. She's your typical tsundere. Annoying, in his opinion. Shira- A snake. She's cold and a real badass. A mommy type, if the author can have an opinion here. She has blue scales and a snow white hair with piercing poison green eyes. David is terrified of her. Maia - A monkey hybrid. She's playful and fun to have around but never takes anything seriously. She's from the village and has short brown hair with your typical monkey features. She has freckles and dark brown eyes. Lydia- A fucking syren. She tries to charm Alex constantly with her songs. It's quite annoying. She has like blue, BLUE hair. It's stupid. And ocean blue eyes. Well, David might have been a bit overdramatic with the ten girl thing, but six clinging onto him was bad enough, so he has the right to complain. Case closed. So when one night, when he sits in his bed, thinking about his life decisions in a mid-life crysis, he hears noises coming from his window, you can't blame him for getting curious. He slowly stood up to open the window, only to be met with forest green eyes starring into his blood red ones. How could he have forgotten... His hot enemy, who is an assassin, trying to kill him. Hydra, or Yume, an assasin, a rattle snake hybrid. David just so happens to adore rattle snakes and adores the cute boy who tries to take away his second life. "Hello, darlin," He says to the frozen blondie who looks at him with disbelief. "If you wanted us to have some fun, you could have just asked sweetheart." He deepened his voice, and he saw the other blush in a dark red colour. A slow rattling sound came from somewhere deep from Yume, which David found extremely adorable. "Fuck you." The assassin spat, aiming to bite our main character, who moved out of the way, smirking as his hot nemesis fell to the floor with an adorable 'oof'. "It would be the other way around, don't you think?" He asked, and Yume groaned with annoyance. "This is not how it goes! You are supposed to make those useless chicks fall in love with you, then I get caught and get executed while you get your happy ending." The blonde suddenly says, caching David off guard. "You are not supposed to flirt with me, you are not supposed to let me in every time, you are not supposed to talk to me, I'm not supposed to fall in love with you!" He's yelling now, getting closer to David. "So why don't you be a good main character and stick to the-?" The assassin gets cut short with a kiss pressed on his mouth. Suprise shines in his eyes as he stares up to Orpheus, David, who is now wery happy for the two inch between their heights. Because those doe eyes starring up at him are worth absolutely everything. "I'm gay. You are a cute dude." He summarises his thoughts. "Now, how did you know the story? You are not supposed to be aware, right?" He asks, and Yume looks away. "I... Uhm... I dreamt about this. I can sometimes see the future." He explained, fidgeting with his fingers. "Yeah, I am not discovering that part of the lore." David says, pulling a small laugh from the blond. "Can I kiss you again?" The silence comes so quickly like a sword slicing into warm butter. Yume looks to the floor, and all he gives is a small nod of confirmation. That's all Orpheus needs, gently grabbing his chin and lifting the blond's head up. He looks into the forest green eyes before leaning in and connecting their lips. Yume goes boneless in his strong grasp, and David silently thanks this orpheus dude for being in good shape. This won't be so bad after all, David decides.	It's truly amazing how much dick you can get from not being a dick. I was terrified when I realized how old fashioned this world is, the women were so nice to me, but that seemed like another consequence of their toxic, ruling masculinity. These women clung to me just because I listened to what they said. Fortunately though, it turns out the men are even less likely to listen to other men, the competition and tradition didn't allow for it. Yes, yes, I did seduce Sephirodong, and he's since enacted several reforms, but that was just because the guy is fucking stunning. The rest of the lords were so used to being nasty to each other, all I needed to do was to listen and offer support. They called me a hero for showing up, and wanted me to rule in Sephi's place! Sephi loved my 'snakes in the grass + lawnmower' concept once I explained what a lawnmower was. I really am a nice guy, but this world isn't nice, and while I don't blame the lords, they are still lords and I enjoy kicking them off lands they don't do shit for.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	The roar of the engine. The blinding lights. Alex shouting at me. The pain. Then… nothing. Void, a complete lack of any sensory input at all. Then falling. Slowly at first, but I soon found myself plummeting downwards through this mysterious void. Finally, I woke up. Not in a hospital as I had hoped, but in a church. Shit. I slowly propped myself up on my elbows, my body was still quite weak, and got a better look around. I seemed to be in the middle of some sort of glowing magic circle, and standing just outside it with their hands clasped and their voices chanting what looked like prayer but was probably incantation, were around twenty priestesses. It was then that I became aware of my own nudity. Double shit. At once, they ceased their frankly creepy ritual. One of the priestesses, the leader I assumed due to the fact that she was dressed differently (read: more revealing) and had a bigger hat and staff that the others, approached me. She kneeled down beside me, her proximity making me tense up, and explained the following: Apparently, I had been summoned as the Hero of Legend to save their world from an encroaching demon army. All I had to do was kill the Demon Lord Octavius, and the rest of the demon army would be easy pickings thanks to the fact that the Demon Lord was using his magic to strengthen his troops. After that, I was set up with a magical suit of golden armor, a sword to match, and training on how to properly wield it. My instructor was a fox-woman who, for some reason, decided to wear as little clothing as physically possible. I thought it would be rude to comment on her clothing, so I didn’t say anything to her about it. In retrospect, I should have figured it out by this point. I finally realized what was going on when I was set up with a party. All the tropes were covered, unlike their boobs. I had been transported into one of Alex’s shitty isekai mangas! I recalled that whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, he’d have his nose buried in one. I, for my part, never liked them. The whole point was sexy girls, and I don’t find girls sexy, so they never appealed to me. Also, they were misogynistic as fuck. And I was trapped in one. Triple shit. Still, I soldiered on. I fought my way through hoards of demons. Eventually though, I got pretty lonely. Being constantly surrounded by boobs can be pretty draining for a gay guy. To make things worse, this kingdom didn’t seem to have a single gay-bar anywhere. About a year into this hellish isekai, I realized that in a world governed my tropes, I had to work within said tropes. The only gay characters that this type of heteronormative bullshit is usually the villain. I had come up against the Demon Lord Octavius a few times in battle, but I didn’t know much about him. I knew he was a skilled commander and sorcerer, and that he had an absolutely amazing voice, but that was pretty much it. I’d never even seen his face because he always wore a mask in combat. I spent many lonely nights fantasizing about the face behind that mask. When my party neared the Demon Lord’s palace, I set off on my own with the excuse that easier to travel incognito if I went alone. I also may or may not have told them that I couldn’t bear to see them in danger, just to drive the point home. Once I had secured my freedom from them, I set out on my real mission. Instead of obtaining the Demon Lords head, I was going for his heart. I gathered a bouquet of wild flowers, baked a batch of cookies, and wrote a note inviting him to dinner on a scenic overlook that I had scoped out. I had little faith in my plan, but I had no other ideas. When the time came, I found myself pacing and muttering to myself. “Of course he won’t come, I look so ridiculous just waiting here. And what if he comes but he want to kill me? I signed my real name, and I didn’t bring my sword! Stupid!” “Yes, that was quite a foolish move, Hero” He said, emerging from the brush. “I see you didn’t bring your staff, does that mean you’re here for dinner instead for fighting?” “Yes, I suppose it does.” r/CookieJarOfChaos	It's truly amazing how much dick you can get from not being a dick. I was terrified when I realized how old fashioned this world is, the women were so nice to me, but that seemed like another consequence of their toxic, ruling masculinity. These women clung to me just because I listened to what they said. Fortunately though, it turns out the men are even less likely to listen to other men, the competition and tradition didn't allow for it. Yes, yes, I did seduce Sephirodong, and he's since enacted several reforms, but that was just because the guy is fucking stunning. The rest of the lords were so used to being nasty to each other, all I needed to do was to listen and offer support. They called me a hero for showing up, and wanted me to rule in Sephi's place! Sephi loved my 'snakes in the grass + lawnmower' concept once I explained what a lawnmower was. I really am a nice guy, but this world isn't nice, and while I don't blame the lords, they are still lords and I enjoy kicking them off lands they don't do shit for.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	We now return to That Time I was Accidentally Reincarnated as a Hero in a Fantasy Harem World Meant for My Straight Best Friend, So I’m Taming the Main Villain… “H-Huh!?” sputtered Dark Fairy King Auberon, his wings blushing crimson. “A date,” Leo repeated, smiling gently as he brushed a soft, blond lock of hair from his face. “Just you and me, away from the prophecy, away from all of this. I know a place that makes a delicious mushroom soup.” “And what makes you think that, on the eve of my triumph over the mortal world, about to force you to bend the knee –” “On one knee? My, you’re such a romantic, already thinking ahead to our engagement?” Leo cut in, widening his smile a little more and batting his eyes. A faint thud could be heard behind Auberon as one of his lieutenants fainted, her wings blissfully blushing even more crimson than his. “THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT!” shouted Auberon, his gaze turning murderous. With one outstretched hand, he began coalescing a dark, chaotic mass of energy. “No more toying with my affections, nor stalling for time, hero. With this attack, I will – ”. The Dark Fairy army gasped. The swirling dark energy dissipated. Auberon’s eyes widened in shock as he felt the hero’s soft lips pull away from his. “You talk too much,” Leo replied, his eyes gleaming directly into the almond eyes mere inches away from his face, as he held the king’s torso with one hand and tousled the raven’s-wing-black hair with another. Leo released his hold and took a couple steps back. “W-well, m-maybe I will entertain your parley,” stammered Auberon, his wings fluttering nervously. “Good enough for me! I’ll pick you up at the forest entrance tomorrow. Wear something nice.” With that, Leo turned and walked away from the stunned army, smiling contentedly to himself as the thick trees began to give way to the familiar road ahead. … “Hero’s guard, to me!” Leo shouted in the courtyard of his estate. The sound of clanging metal ceased, and a drumbeat of footsteps grew louder. “So, how’d it go?” asked Charlotte eagerly, tossing her giant hammer to the ground as she ran up to the returning hero. “Yeah, tell us!” agreed Leona, her feline ears twitching in anticipation. The other girls chimed in as well, wanting to hear the latest gossip. “Well, ladies… guess who’s got a date with the Dark Fairy King?” Leo exclaimed. “Aaaaah, Leo, so happy for you!” “I can’t believe you actually went through with it!” “It wasn’t easy, but let’s just say he has very kissable lips.” Leo smirked. That piqued the guard’s interest even further, and the banter and storytelling continued until the sun began to set, bathing the courtyard in a pink-and-orange glow. “All right, it’s time to clean up. Guard, dismissed!” With a couple grumbles, the ladies began to wipe down their various weapons and headed back to their quarters. Leo nodded contentedly, then detoured up to the roof. Not bad for a gay salaryman, right, Tomo? Thought Leo wistfully as he lay back to watch the amber glow of day fade into the twilight. You would have loved being the hero. I wish we could both be here together, but I don’t regret a thing. I hope you’re living life to the fullest back in our world, and I’ll do the same in this new one. “Now then,” Leo mused aloud. “what should I wear for the date?”	It's truly amazing how much dick you can get from not being a dick. I was terrified when I realized how old fashioned this world is, the women were so nice to me, but that seemed like another consequence of their toxic, ruling masculinity. These women clung to me just because I listened to what they said. Fortunately though, it turns out the men are even less likely to listen to other men, the competition and tradition didn't allow for it. Yes, yes, I did seduce Sephirodong, and he's since enacted several reforms, but that was just because the guy is fucking stunning. The rest of the lords were so used to being nasty to each other, all I needed to do was to listen and offer support. They called me a hero for showing up, and wanted me to rule in Sephi's place! Sephi loved my 'snakes in the grass + lawnmower' concept once I explained what a lawnmower was. I really am a nice guy, but this world isn't nice, and while I don't blame the lords, they are still lords and I enjoy kicking them off lands they don't do shit for.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, I mean, think about it this way – there’s someone out there who’s bound to be your match!” The bar door opens as we exit, the rush of the cool evening air a relief to us both. For me, a way out of the mess I’d gotten myself into. For him, the leather bar isn’t really his scene. Such is the end of Unsuccessful Date No. Who Knows At This Point? It’s gotten rather formulaic – I meet someone, something happens where we aren’t that much of a match anymore, I call Ken to bail me out. I thought the gay scene here was supposed to be welcoming, but I guess people really only went for me out of yellow fever. “That’s not the problem, Ken, I don’t think dating apps work – half the time, they’re looking for hookups, and the other half end up being not my type. Well, last guy was, he was just really intense-“ “Listen to me.” Ken says, tapping the button for the crosswalk. “Louie. Listen to me.” I am listening, get on with it. “There’s always going to be a way.” Easy for him to say. “I just want to meet a guy the old fashioned way, you know? Like, just at the bookstore, someone has a little chat, or I’m the coffee shop. I’d kill for someone to talk to me about my area of study.“ “No one wants to hear about historical geopolitics, you can’t strike up that conversation. You gotta know the right topic.” Ken says. The light turns, and so we set across the street. “At least you’re interested in something, I’m basically a nobody.” Oh, not this again, and I laugh, as does he. “Kenny, I swear you always - wait.“ I stop for a second. That truck sees us, right? Why is it not slowing down? “I gotta have something, though. Maybe I should get into rugby. Or camping, or… crypto?” Normally at this point, I’d be going along with the bit, but my focus is on the truck. The driver sees us, right? Ken goes on without me, and he turns – the wrong way. I was on his right, makes sense he’d look at me and not the truck on his left. “Louis? You there? I didn’t think you’d give me the silent treatment over crypto.” The truck’s not stopping. By the time Ken sees me and turns the other way to where my eyes are focused, it’s too late for him to run. The truck driver doesn’t see him. Actually, it’s close enough that we can tell there isn’t a driver to see anything. Even if there was and they hit the brakes, it would be too late. I make a decision. Bit or not, I am not letting Kenny’s last words be about crypto. * The sky above me is bright, clear and blue – not a hospital ceiling like I was expecting. Last thing I remember was getting hit by a truck saving Ken’s ass, and trust me – it’s painful. But nothing hurts, which is pretty strange considering I should at least have a broken arm. “Hey, are you okay?” I turn to see a woman in armor, with some sort of medieval town behind her. “I’m Momoka. What’s your name?” What the hell kind of name was Momoka? And then it hit me. This place, the horse behind her, how clear the sky looked, her armor… I knew Ken enough to know what he was into (although it’s information I’d much rather forget). From the depths of my mind, I remember his full name. Kenichi Tsukahara. Ken was Japanese?! And he liked anime?! Wait, if this was what I thought it was… “Momoka. Would you say there’s a leader here, some kind of… demon king?” She nods. Oh, for god’s sake. Ken, you need better taste. This is the moment that adventure calls to me, pledging me to go along on a world-bending adventure on a way back home, only for me to end up stuck here, and somehow I get six fiancees in some weird harem. I wouldn’t mind if it were buff guys in armour, as is popular these days on the Internet, but it’s pretty clear this isn’t the case. Unless Momoka is some sort of subversion? Well, if I’m in a new world that speaks my language, I might as well make the most of it and start exploring. “Where’s the nearest academic institute?” * Day 3 After a bit, I managed to make enough money to buy this journal. So begins my documentation of this strange world for future reference. It took a lot of convincing, but through some miracle I passed as a scholar from another country. My strange dress? Those are just traditional! My lack of money? I just got mugged by some highway bandit. My lack of knowledge about the general area or what happened before? I have amnesia! My charisma stat must have been off the chart. Edmund – that’s the Head Librarian – is letting me crash at his place until I have enough money working under him to get my own place. Momoka helped me settle down in Courseau, which is the town’s name. I consider her the closest thing I have to a friend at this point in time. I’ve given her relationship advice, but for the most part she’s going to be off adventuring with her party, occasionally returning back to see me and restock. She offered for me to join, but I looked at the roster of typical anime tropes and decided that unless they were playing for my team, I was happy to stay at the library/archives thing the town has. She can go take down the demon lord or something on her own time. In this house, we support women’s wrongs, specifically revolutionary assassination. Yaas queen, slay. …I never really got the hang of those phrases. I hope I’m using them right. Day 15 God, I miss Ken, and mom and dad. I wonder if he told them what happened? I wish I could see them one more time to say goodbye. Day 22 (About a month?) The Courseau Library has been doing pretty well with my patronage, ever since I arrived. I can only wonder what the plan was for Ken when he got here – well, obviously, he’d go off with Momoka and marry the whole party, but this job felt meant for me. If this were some sort of isekai story, did that mean I was supposed to enter the world at a later point in time? Bravo for representation? Then again, I wouldn’t end up with anyone. There were a few guys, but again, most of them were straight. The guy at the general store is married, so he’s straight and off the table. The blacksmith’s straight. The bartender was nice, but not my type. The head librarian, Edmund, thinks of me as a son, and he’s straight. The mayor’s too old. Wow, even in a fantasy world I have trouble getting dates, but Ken, you get a whole harem consisting of a friendly girl next door type fighter, a tsundere cleric, some really formal mage, a shy bard, etc. Maybe a paladin. And someone in full armor who turns out to be another conventionally attractive woman for him to convert to his side. Day 23 Finally! Edmund trusts me enough to let me into the historical archive section. Now to read up on history. I’ll summarize what I can. [16 pages skipped for brevity] Pretty intriguing. Looks like this demon lord’s been in power for about twenty years, at least? But nothing really glaring about what he did, or does now, that justifies a revolution in my mind. Maybe he was just that intimidating? Then again, I don’t feel it. Trust me, I know tyrannical societies, and this one is pretty lax. I think this is just poor writing, honestly. Day 31 (One month!) Safe to say it’s been about a month now. I’m not surprised I didn’t get magicked back at this point in time. I should start writing down how many months – they don’t measure days and months like I do. I’ve been getting to know the local alchemist – I think he might be into me? I’ll try making a move next time I see him. Hopefully I don’t regret it. Day 32 (One month) I regret it. I’m going to make my own potions from now on. Day 40 Momoka came back. I gave her relationship advice. Also, I got my own place! Electricity doesn’t exist and the water comes from a well, but it beats the prices back in my world. Day 57 (Almost two months) Momoka visited again. Wanted me to join her. Now there’s twin warriors, one healer and one damage dealer. Could you get more cliché? I said no, obviously. The damage girl makes a great drinking buddy, though. Day 69 nice Day 75 I think I’m at the point where I’m really starting to miss everything about home again. There’s this bakery that sold these amazing raspberry coconut squares, I miss taking the train to work, I miss watching funny videos and playing games on my phone. All those beautiful little things. Singing your heart out to the radio, even if my voice was terrible, in the car with the windows rolled down – that’s the last memory I have of Ken that wasn’t being hit by a truck. Momoka was back again. I cried and she helped me through it. I appreciate that. (Part 2 Below)	It's truly amazing how much dick you can get from not being a dick. I was terrified when I realized how old fashioned this world is, the women were so nice to me, but that seemed like another consequence of their toxic, ruling masculinity. These women clung to me just because I listened to what they said. Fortunately though, it turns out the men are even less likely to listen to other men, the competition and tradition didn't allow for it. Yes, yes, I did seduce Sephirodong, and he's since enacted several reforms, but that was just because the guy is fucking stunning. The rest of the lords were so used to being nasty to each other, all I needed to do was to listen and offer support. They called me a hero for showing up, and wanted me to rule in Sephi's place! Sephi loved my 'snakes in the grass + lawnmower' concept once I explained what a lawnmower was. I really am a nice guy, but this world isn't nice, and while I don't blame the lords, they are still lords and I enjoy kicking them off lands they don't do shit for.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	The roar of the engine. The blinding lights. Alex shouting at me. The pain. Then… nothing. Void, a complete lack of any sensory input at all. Then falling. Slowly at first, but I soon found myself plummeting downwards through this mysterious void. Finally, I woke up. Not in a hospital as I had hoped, but in a church. Shit. I slowly propped myself up on my elbows, my body was still quite weak, and got a better look around. I seemed to be in the middle of some sort of glowing magic circle, and standing just outside it with their hands clasped and their voices chanting what looked like prayer but was probably incantation, were around twenty priestesses. It was then that I became aware of my own nudity. Double shit. At once, they ceased their frankly creepy ritual. One of the priestesses, the leader I assumed due to the fact that she was dressed differently (read: more revealing) and had a bigger hat and staff that the others, approached me. She kneeled down beside me, her proximity making me tense up, and explained the following: Apparently, I had been summoned as the Hero of Legend to save their world from an encroaching demon army. All I had to do was kill the Demon Lord Octavius, and the rest of the demon army would be easy pickings thanks to the fact that the Demon Lord was using his magic to strengthen his troops. After that, I was set up with a magical suit of golden armor, a sword to match, and training on how to properly wield it. My instructor was a fox-woman who, for some reason, decided to wear as little clothing as physically possible. I thought it would be rude to comment on her clothing, so I didn’t say anything to her about it. In retrospect, I should have figured it out by this point. I finally realized what was going on when I was set up with a party. All the tropes were covered, unlike their boobs. I had been transported into one of Alex’s shitty isekai mangas! I recalled that whenever he thought I wasn’t looking, he’d have his nose buried in one. I, for my part, never liked them. The whole point was sexy girls, and I don’t find girls sexy, so they never appealed to me. Also, they were misogynistic as fuck. And I was trapped in one. Triple shit. Still, I soldiered on. I fought my way through hoards of demons. Eventually though, I got pretty lonely. Being constantly surrounded by boobs can be pretty draining for a gay guy. To make things worse, this kingdom didn’t seem to have a single gay-bar anywhere. About a year into this hellish isekai, I realized that in a world governed my tropes, I had to work within said tropes. The only gay characters that this type of heteronormative bullshit is usually the villain. I had come up against the Demon Lord Octavius a few times in battle, but I didn’t know much about him. I knew he was a skilled commander and sorcerer, and that he had an absolutely amazing voice, but that was pretty much it. I’d never even seen his face because he always wore a mask in combat. I spent many lonely nights fantasizing about the face behind that mask. When my party neared the Demon Lord’s palace, I set off on my own with the excuse that easier to travel incognito if I went alone. I also may or may not have told them that I couldn’t bear to see them in danger, just to drive the point home. Once I had secured my freedom from them, I set out on my real mission. Instead of obtaining the Demon Lords head, I was going for his heart. I gathered a bouquet of wild flowers, baked a batch of cookies, and wrote a note inviting him to dinner on a scenic overlook that I had scoped out. I had little faith in my plan, but I had no other ideas. When the time came, I found myself pacing and muttering to myself. “Of course he won’t come, I look so ridiculous just waiting here. And what if he comes but he want to kill me? I signed my real name, and I didn’t bring my sword! Stupid!” “Yes, that was quite a foolish move, Hero” He said, emerging from the brush. “I see you didn’t bring your staff, does that mean you’re here for dinner instead for fighting?” “Yes, I suppose it does.” r/CookieJarOfChaos	David was gay. So gay that a circle was straighter than him. He was the gayest. Or that's what he liked to think. So when he ends up in a fucked up anime world with ten or so female abominations clinging on him, he can't help but feel frustrated. The ladies are complete bestie material; don't get him wrong, but why is there not a single male option? How stupid that can be? The world building is interesting tought. He is a man called Orpheus, the crowned prince of a huge nation in a middle-aged fantasy japan. There's ten love interests. David watched enough anime to know how this works. Sai- A shy red panda hybrid or something like that. She's rather small and really soft hearted. She loves animals. Your typical kawai girl. Her hair is copper red, and her eyes are chocolate brown. She has the ears and tail of a red panda. Kotae- A servant girl with huge white wings, a swan, is his best guess. She's kind and really pretty. She has long silwer hair and deep crystal blue eyes with rosy lips and pale skin. Juki- She's the daughter of a duke or something. David did not pay any attention. She's a cat hybrid with blonde hair and yellow eyes. Her tail and ears are ginger coloured. She's your typical tsundere. Annoying, in his opinion. Shira- A snake. She's cold and a real badass. A mommy type, if the author can have an opinion here. She has blue scales and a snow white hair with piercing poison green eyes. David is terrified of her. Maia - A monkey hybrid. She's playful and fun to have around but never takes anything seriously. She's from the village and has short brown hair with your typical monkey features. She has freckles and dark brown eyes. Lydia- A fucking syren. She tries to charm Alex constantly with her songs. It's quite annoying. She has like blue, BLUE hair. It's stupid. And ocean blue eyes. Well, David might have been a bit overdramatic with the ten girl thing, but six clinging onto him was bad enough, so he has the right to complain. Case closed. So when one night, when he sits in his bed, thinking about his life decisions in a mid-life crysis, he hears noises coming from his window, you can't blame him for getting curious. He slowly stood up to open the window, only to be met with forest green eyes starring into his blood red ones. How could he have forgotten... His hot enemy, who is an assassin, trying to kill him. Hydra, or Yume, an assasin, a rattle snake hybrid. David just so happens to adore rattle snakes and adores the cute boy who tries to take away his second life. "Hello, darlin," He says to the frozen blondie who looks at him with disbelief. "If you wanted us to have some fun, you could have just asked sweetheart." He deepened his voice, and he saw the other blush in a dark red colour. A slow rattling sound came from somewhere deep from Yume, which David found extremely adorable. "Fuck you." The assassin spat, aiming to bite our main character, who moved out of the way, smirking as his hot nemesis fell to the floor with an adorable 'oof'. "It would be the other way around, don't you think?" He asked, and Yume groaned with annoyance. "This is not how it goes! You are supposed to make those useless chicks fall in love with you, then I get caught and get executed while you get your happy ending." The blonde suddenly says, caching David off guard. "You are not supposed to flirt with me, you are not supposed to let me in every time, you are not supposed to talk to me, I'm not supposed to fall in love with you!" He's yelling now, getting closer to David. "So why don't you be a good main character and stick to the-?" The assassin gets cut short with a kiss pressed on his mouth. Suprise shines in his eyes as he stares up to Orpheus, David, who is now wery happy for the two inch between their heights. Because those doe eyes starring up at him are worth absolutely everything. "I'm gay. You are a cute dude." He summarises his thoughts. "Now, how did you know the story? You are not supposed to be aware, right?" He asks, and Yume looks away. "I... Uhm... I dreamt about this. I can sometimes see the future." He explained, fidgeting with his fingers. "Yeah, I am not discovering that part of the lore." David says, pulling a small laugh from the blond. "Can I kiss you again?" The silence comes so quickly like a sword slicing into warm butter. Yume looks to the floor, and all he gives is a small nod of confirmation. That's all Orpheus needs, gently grabbing his chin and lifting the blond's head up. He looks into the forest green eyes before leaning in and connecting their lips. Yume goes boneless in his strong grasp, and David silently thanks this orpheus dude for being in good shape. This won't be so bad after all, David decides.
	[WP] You, a gay man, save a friend from being hit by a truck but resulting in you being hit instead. You wake up in an isekai anime obviously meant for the friend. So with a lack of male options you decide to try and get the main villain to date you	It was a good death, I think. I'd rather not have had it. The goal was to get us both out of the way, but things don't always work out like that. The blaring horn, getting louder and also higher pitched as it approached. Thanks, I see you there giant truck. Could the last few seconds of my life not be ear splitting pain? No. Great, thanks. At least, I thought it was the last few seconds. Suddenly, I was falling. Falling. Then the freshest air I've ever breathed filled my senses and I had a moment to enjoy it before landing on the ground with a wallop. The air knocked out of me. Wait, how was there even any air to knock out of me? I should be dead. I felt grass on my fingers and opened my eyes. Clear blue sky. Clouds. I sat up with a grunt. Rolling hills, a little cropping of trees near me. Gorgeous. Everything was insane right now but the sheer beauty of this place struck me like someone had turned the saturation way up. I inhaled again, feeling that same freshness fill my lungs and now getting to enjoy it. I had died. But I was alive. Was this heaven? Had I gone to heaven? "Ha!" I shouted loudly to nobody or maybe to everybody if this was heaven. Who cared. "Suck my dick, pastor Dave! I'm in heaven!" I had stopped believing in heaven a while ago, but a win is a win. Apparently, I hadn't shouted it to nobody. A rustle from that tree line. A growl. Growl? There's no growling in heaven. Out of the tree came a massive, snarling dog. Dog is the best word I can think of to describe it. It had a basic dog shape, except it was taller than I was even on four legs. There was no fur, just wrinkly skin wit mottled scales on it. The snarl from the mouth, which was massive even in proportion to its hulking frame, revealed sharp teeth and dripping saliva. I stood up. I barely even remember doing it or even thinking about it and suddenly my body reacted on instinct to be ready to haul ass. "Be not afraid?" I asked, remembering that from something. Angels were scary, right? Well that wasn't what was happening here. The beast launched itself at me and that haul ass instinct kicked in again. I had just thought I had moved as fast as I possibly could to save Carl from that truck, but I apparently had a couple more gears. The demon dog missed its first pounce on account of underestimating just how intensely I could run away and I used that miss to put as much distance between us as I could. I cursed the lovely rolling hills that had made me think of heaven because they provided nowhere to hide. Another growl, a grunt from behind me and I banked hard left without thinking. The beast again landed where I had been a moment ago and my second death was further delayed slightly. What kind of sick joke is this? The rolling hills didn’t give me anywhere to hide, but they did obscure my view so I couldn't see the whole landscape. I definitely was shocked to see a girl when I topped the next hill. She was running toward me, the gifts god had given her bouncing enthusiastically with the effort despite the armor like outfit she was wearing. I say armor like because while in theory the material was designed to look like some kind of armor there were definitely several exposed vital spots particularly in the chest area hence the bouncing. Had she just come from a cosplay convention or something? Worry about that later. Not even the weirdest thing happening. "Run!" I shouted. She continued moving towards me, hand on the ornate pommel at her hip. I didn't have time to explain, grabbed her other arm hoping to drag her along in the right direction. It was like trying to move a statue. She had shifted from a run to a firmly planted stance and despite being a buck twenty tops she wasn’t going anywhere. The attempt sent me sprawling to the ground as she shrugged off my grip like it was nothing. The sword came out of its scabbard with a ring no cosplay sword was ever going to make. She was a petite thing, but I recognized a power stance when I saw one and the bare arm (seriously, what does that iron corset even protect?) which held the blade was lined with compact musculature. The creature lunged at her, she side stepped and I didn't so much see her swing as notice that the sword was suddenly elsewhere. Blood sprayed from the beast's neck, black and horrid, and it fell to the ground with a moan. Not a hair was out of place on her head and she gave the blade a little flourish to flick the blood off it before sheathing it again and jogging over to me. She knelt in front of me, genuine concern in her eyes. "Are you all right?" I was stunned. It had all been so much. My mouth was open, gaping like an idiot and I managed to stammer, "Y... yeah." She nodded, glancing around. "We should go before more come. You're lucky I was on my morning walk and heard roar of a Yuleth." She held out a hand, helping me up with a vice grip. "Yeah, I'll say!" I said, my mind deciding it wasn't going to die and allowing me to speak whole sentences again, "That was the coolest thing I've ever seen in my life! You're amazing. How did you do that?" She shrugged, "I am a knight of the order. It is what I have been trained to do all my life. I'm Ester." "Cameron," I responded, "Don’t be so modest. I'd be a meal right now if it wasn't for you." She smiled slightly, "That's not true," she said, glancing at me, "A snack, at most." I placed my hand on my chest in mock pain, "Ouch. Did you save me just to kill me with words?" She raised her eyebrows as if to say maybe then her eyes took in a little more of me. "What are you wearing?" I glanced down. I just had on slacks and a plain blue tee shirt. Some sneakers. This wasn't an especially loud outfit and that wasn't really my style anyway. I was aware of my appearance, but I never was too much of a fashionista. Still, having a girl dressed in a Yandy version of armor comment on my non descript outfit would not stand. "What am I wearing?" I replied incredulously. (Part 1)	Gay-sekai I awakened on a field of fallen cherry blossoms, with the taste of iced coffee still on my tongue. This didn't feel like being hit by a car. It felt more like a dream, or perhaps stepping onto the set of a perfume commercial. I thought to myself: "Eh, what the hell. Five more minutes couldn't hurt." I felt something soft fall on my face as I drifted off again, and twitched my nose, unconsciously, turning my face to the side. A few moments, something soft fell on my ear, and I ignored it. A few lovely moments of relaxation later, and I was rudely awakened by a bucket of cold water dumped directly onto my midsection. "AAAA! What the hell! Who does th-" I opened my eyes to notice a young woman standing over me, with an exceedingly fluffy sheep standing right by her side. She was dressed in a shepherd's garb, and her proportions were, for lack of a better word, implausible. She was remarkably top-heavy, with a bosom that could function as a flotation device in the event of an airplane crash. "... Doesn't your back hurt?" She responded, indignantly at first but then hesitantly. "I... have never actually been asked that before. Yes, actually. It's been acting up lately." Wanting to change the subject, she quickly transitions back to a more assertive tone of voice. "Anyway, what the hell is a stranger like you doing in my field! You're lucky I didn't have Maximus here keep chewing on you until you decided to wake up!" The sheep bleats an affirmative, showing teeth that clearly were not nearly sharp enough for that purpose. I stand up, brushing cherry blossom petals off my shirt. "Look, I'm not sure if this is Adventures In Comaland or something, but I just woke up here. If anything, you're the one that has explaining to do. Where am I?" She looks a little confused. "My farm." "Yes, from the context, that's clear. But where is your farm?" She comes to a realization. "Oh, you must be a mage from a distant land, and your teleporter spell must have gone hideously awry. That must be why you don't know where you are, and why your clothes are so unfashionable." I blink. "Unfashionable?" "Yes, around here, paisley blouses went out of style decades ago." Frustrated, I start yelling. "But where is here!?" "You're in Tyvia, you dumb shit! You know? Big kingdom with a complicated legal system, the origin of the Elemental Stones Of Power, and more legendary heroes than you could shake a stick at. None of that rings a bell?" I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw that it was dead. Figures. "Ma'am, I'm from Chicago. I've never heard of any place called Tyvia in my life." She went from being irritated to furious, brandishing her bucket like a weapon. "Don't 'ma'am' me, you bastard! Do I look like an old maid to you?" I took a few steps back. "OK. OK. Jeez. Just trying to be polite. I apologize, my bad." I rubbed the back of my head with my hand. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot. Let's start off with introductions. My name's Devin. What's yours?" She paused for a beat before sighing. "Marguerite." "Werk." "Werk?" "It basically just means 'Yes' or 'OK'." "I see..." A few awkwardly silent seconds passed by, with the only sounds being the wind through the cherry trees and the enthusiastic munching of Maximus the sheep. "Marguerite, you said that there were mages here, right? Would any of them be able to tell me what's going on with all of this?" She narrowed her eyes. "Probably, but there's only two nearby. There's Vivian, the village cleric, and Ignatius." "What does Ignatius do?" "High crimes and misdemeanors." "Ah. Bad wizard. Got it." She points to a nearby hillside. "Vivian's temple's at the bottom of that hill over there, in the village square. You can't miss it, it has a big ol' obelisk right outside the front doors. Do you need me to walk you there?" "Actually, yes. I don't even know what an obelisk is." She rolls her eyes. "Fine, but you'll know it when you see it." "Thanks, Marguerite."
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	They say every teenager makes dumb mistakes, thing's that'll make them cringe a little bit or laugh at their own past stupidity when they look at old photos. However, my teenage mistakes weren't at the level of a tongue piercing or an at home haircut. I became a renowned supervillain at the age of thirteen. It started during the seventh grade when I'd sneak out to go hang out with my friends and we'd go around acting like we were invincible. At first it started out fairly harmless, vandalism and a bit of petty theft, and just angering people for the sake of it. We stuck to our group and never told. Until Marlee's fifteenth birthday. You see, the rest of the girls were a great deal older than me, most seniors or juniors, but they didn't mind, and neither did I. Probably because they all had a crush on my brother, William. He was four years older than me and basically the most popular guy in school. Marlee was the second youngest in our group, the youngest being me, and she really wanted us to drive down to the beach for her special day, but she didn't have a car, and she didn't have a license (but that probably wouldn't have stopped her). So naturally Sophie (the oldest and the most demanding) grabbed her mom's car and picked us up and drove us down to the beach. I remember Sophie and the other five girls laying in the sun, trying to tan while Marlee and I jumped the waves. We were overall just having a good time. There were some guys there, so of course we flirted a bit, but they never seemed to like me much. Sophie'd occasionally make a mean comment or two, but that's just how she was. When the sun set, all the boys left, and it was just us girls and the smell of saltwater. Eventually Sophie got up, so of course all the other girls followed, and to my surprise she came to tap me on the shoulder. "Hey Liza! You look cute." Sophie smiled, and it eased my nerves slightly. I was already self conscious enough about wearing a bikini for the first time, and the prospect of having Sophie come to me for a one-on-one chat was everything, and getting a compliment from Sophie was like discovering a living dinosaur, it never happened. "Thanks." I muttered, I could hear the sound of the beach clearer due to the lack of visitors, and it was mesmerizing. That's when Sophie suggested I play a trick on Marlee, shove her forward into the ocean. I know, who would do something like that? I would. So I pushed her, even though the tide was high. Let's just say that Marlee never got back up that night. Suddenly Sophie started pushing me more and more, until we'd killed off two more, but little did I know someone was watching that night, and all those nights. Eventually, I dropped out of school, and Sophie and I would go on our killing spree. I thought I knew everything about life, everyone is gonna die anyway, why not kill them now? I knew it was wrong, but I was desperate for Sophie's approval. Maybe it's because she was older and cooler, or maybe it was because of her deadly smile, and her blonde hair that swayed in the breeze that made me do whatever she said. I was dubbed the 'Nighttime Assassin' and I felt like I was on top of the world, and Sophie was by my side, but in actuality, I was her toy. A few years later, I got sick of all of the madness, and I killed her. But I was sixteen, a supervillain who's never really known anything else. So I started making threats to get what I wanted. "I'll kill you unless I get 10000 dollars" or "Give me all that you have or I'll kill you". I didn't really mean any of them, but nobody knew that. I'd left my home, I had no friends left alive, and honestly I was incredibly lonely. So I'd make threats against this hero guy who called himself 'Venture Man'. He stopped all the major 'evil' plans from going into action, so the world viewed him as the greatest man alive. I'd get into little fights with him every day, just for a bit of amusement, until one day I decided to start up some trouble, but when I saw the face of my older brother William staring back at me. After that I took it upon myself to have a reformation. I went to 'kindness classes' and all that bullshit. I opened up a yoga studio for goodness sake's. Yet every day I find William outside my window, smiling at me, challenging me to a fight. sorry it's kind of a bad ending, but tried my best.	I sit nervously in the interrogation room. My hands are chained, I insisted on that point, placed behind my back. Mindtruder joins Purge and I. "Warper, this isn't going to be easy. It never is. You'll need to focus as well, otherwise you may instinctively trigger your powers. I feel it's vital that we take no chances. I've seen difficult situations before." She steps aside, holding the door open. A trembling, terrified Barrel walks in. "Barrel? What are YOU doing here?" Purge starts charging her powers. Mindtruder calms her down. "Purge, it's ok. I have it under control. He wouldn't DARE try anything." She narrows her eyes at Barrel. "Right?" Barrel nods. "I'm just here in case Warper freaks out." Mindtruder sits opposite me. "Purge, if you would..." Purge removes the helmet that was blocking my powers. The door is forced open, and we all look as Connor, along with Katie, enters. "We're just in time! Katie was desperate to be here!" Connor announces. Katie walks over. "You'll be fine, Regole. I'm here." Purge grunts at her. "He had me." "Purge" Mindtruder interjects. "Katie and Warper have an understanding between each other, due to how similar their circumstances are. No need to get jealous." My mind goes hazy for a moment as Mindtruder uses her powers. INSIDE WARPER'S MIND The imagery feels so real... it's like I'm ACTUALLY in a cottage on a quiet lane... after my relapse, I had to retire... for everyone's safety... I was no longer a warm, friendly face helping people... I became known as 'The Slave Master', after letting greed get the better of me. I just want to escape my past... my old life... "SLAVE MASTER!" a voice yells. I whip around. Morpha is there. "Morpha, I gave that up. I'm nothing now. I just want-" "SHUT UP! I LISTENED TO YOU! I TRUSTED YOU! WE ALL DID!" "We?" I glance around. I'm surrounded by all the member of the Rehabilitation Foundation. All now considered heroes. "I... I never wanted-" "I should never have joined you, you monster! I actually loved you!" Purge begins weeping. I'm a monster... why did I betray everyone? For riches and wealth? It wasn't worth it... Nothing can make up for what I've done... not even death... OUTSIDE WARPER'S MIND I gasp. "I'm horrible... absolutely vile..." I can barely register anything, but I notice Mindtruder walk up to Purge. Purge nods, walks over to me, and gives me a deep kiss. I try to pull away, terrified, but she won't let me. She keeps our mouths locked together, inserting her tongue past my lips. I succumb, and reciprocate. After a moment, she lets go. "Warper, you're not a monster. You never have been. You never will be." She strokes my cheek, stopping her finger on my shoulder. A warmth emanates from her hand. I can feel my face flushed, tears rolling down my cheeks. I unlock my cuffs using my powers, stand up, and pull Purge into an embrace. "Do you mean it?" "Of course." She looks at me, smiling. "You need a break from here. Let's go somewhere together. Let Mintruder take care of things for now." Still flustered, but feeling a sense of relief, I nod. I have a think, then smile. I look at Barrel. "You'll be assisting Mindtruder. Don't let me down." Katie comes over and gives me a quick hug. "You'll be ok, Regole. Just relax and enjoy yourself! You too, Purge!" \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [It's Not Just Business.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/xoduo6/its_not_just_business/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	Three decades in Supermax will do one of two things to a person: kill him, or transform him. I'm still breathing, so I'll count that as a win as my sentence ran its course. Considering the people who aren't walking out of here, many of them former friends, the win is pyrrhic indeed. I still remember the day I was caught. It was early autumn, the local schools had just started their school years, and trees had not quite yet started their colorful transformations. Chicago had just lost several of its more infamous supervillains to their own assassinations, which left a power vacuum. A vacuum I was more than happy to fill. Unlike Grand Sinisteria or Lord Necron, I did not adopt an obviously evil moniker. I am Senator. The name evokes a sense of public acceptance, while alluding to the myriad backroom deals and graft common to the actually elected people in that role. I am exactly what people expect me to be. My little empire was doing well, with threads and resources all over the Chicagoland area, until a visiting hero ruined things for me. I had many of the local heroes and police departments on my payroll, so I had a false sense of security. Shame on me, I guess, for having such a small-minded view of the world. This hero, Quarterback, was far different from any other hero I had ever come across. I expected to defend myself against a team of heroes, each with their own unique strength, but this man was different. If the X-Men were real, he would be the combination of Quicksilver, Colossus, Jean Grey, Wolverine, and just about all the rest of them. I could hold off an army. I could keep any of the local, or even federal, superhero teams at bay, but not Quarterback. Our battle was as epic as it was brief and I last remembered passing out, on my back, looking at the torn mask hanging off his face. That was 32 years ago and I walked out of the prison a free man last week. I had some money, legitimate money, in a bank account and the interest was favorable to my balance over the years. My sister, the saint she is, owned an urban grocery store near the LaSalle Street Metra train station in downtown Chicago. She gave me a part-time job as a supply and stock technician. In short, I was the stock boy. This role was short lived, thankfully, as I was given some authority over inventory management. As my particular gift involves negotiating, I was quickly able to negotiate favorable deals, all above-board, and the store's profits jumped considerably. The store saw no shortage of heroes that "happened to be in the neighborhood." Between them and my parole officer regularly checking on me and the store's books, it was a wonder we had time to help actual customers. Still, we did well enough, and we secured the funding to open a second store several blocks north, near the river, and I was entrusted to run this franchise for her. I have now been out of prison and clean for about a year. My store has been open for several weeks and has done well. The local customers enjoy my reasonable prices and rumors about my past keep most troublemakers away. I heard the door chime sound an hour after I opened. The morning rush had subsided, so I was in the back taking inventory, and I looked to the entrance. My heart stopped beating as I looked into the face of a man last saw half a lifetime ago. At least, the spitting image of his face. This person had youthful exuberance and had a full head of auburn hair without any gray, and his smooth skin showed no signs of aging. "Good morning!" I called out. "Can I help you find something?" "I ran out of coffee for my machine. Do you have anything good?" His smile was the same. His eyes were no different, except how can it be the same? "This is our most popular brand, but I'm partial to this one. It's a bit pricier, but I find the flavor is far less bitter. It's also on sale. If you buy one bag, you can get the second with a quarter back." It was a calculated statement, but one that paid dividends. "That is a good deal," he replied. "What do you think of the coming election? There just aren't any good candidates for Senator." His emphasis on that last word, and the wave of emotion across his face, was all I needed to see. I spent over 30 years in prison. I am unmarried, without kids or a family, and I will likely pass away within the next several decades. This man, however, has a far worse sentence. It has been surmised that some of us Supers had been gifted with some form of immortality and this must be what it looks like. Quarterback can do anything. Anything except die. "Yeah, they all look like warmed-over turds. Let's get you checked out." Edit: Spelling/grammar	I sit nervously in the interrogation room. My hands are chained, I insisted on that point, placed behind my back. Mindtruder joins Purge and I. "Warper, this isn't going to be easy. It never is. You'll need to focus as well, otherwise you may instinctively trigger your powers. I feel it's vital that we take no chances. I've seen difficult situations before." She steps aside, holding the door open. A trembling, terrified Barrel walks in. "Barrel? What are YOU doing here?" Purge starts charging her powers. Mindtruder calms her down. "Purge, it's ok. I have it under control. He wouldn't DARE try anything." She narrows her eyes at Barrel. "Right?" Barrel nods. "I'm just here in case Warper freaks out." Mindtruder sits opposite me. "Purge, if you would..." Purge removes the helmet that was blocking my powers. The door is forced open, and we all look as Connor, along with Katie, enters. "We're just in time! Katie was desperate to be here!" Connor announces. Katie walks over. "You'll be fine, Regole. I'm here." Purge grunts at her. "He had me." "Purge" Mindtruder interjects. "Katie and Warper have an understanding between each other, due to how similar their circumstances are. No need to get jealous." My mind goes hazy for a moment as Mindtruder uses her powers. INSIDE WARPER'S MIND The imagery feels so real... it's like I'm ACTUALLY in a cottage on a quiet lane... after my relapse, I had to retire... for everyone's safety... I was no longer a warm, friendly face helping people... I became known as 'The Slave Master', after letting greed get the better of me. I just want to escape my past... my old life... "SLAVE MASTER!" a voice yells. I whip around. Morpha is there. "Morpha, I gave that up. I'm nothing now. I just want-" "SHUT UP! I LISTENED TO YOU! I TRUSTED YOU! WE ALL DID!" "We?" I glance around. I'm surrounded by all the member of the Rehabilitation Foundation. All now considered heroes. "I... I never wanted-" "I should never have joined you, you monster! I actually loved you!" Purge begins weeping. I'm a monster... why did I betray everyone? For riches and wealth? It wasn't worth it... Nothing can make up for what I've done... not even death... OUTSIDE WARPER'S MIND I gasp. "I'm horrible... absolutely vile..." I can barely register anything, but I notice Mindtruder walk up to Purge. Purge nods, walks over to me, and gives me a deep kiss. I try to pull away, terrified, but she won't let me. She keeps our mouths locked together, inserting her tongue past my lips. I succumb, and reciprocate. After a moment, she lets go. "Warper, you're not a monster. You never have been. You never will be." She strokes my cheek, stopping her finger on my shoulder. A warmth emanates from her hand. I can feel my face flushed, tears rolling down my cheeks. I unlock my cuffs using my powers, stand up, and pull Purge into an embrace. "Do you mean it?" "Of course." She looks at me, smiling. "You need a break from here. Let's go somewhere together. Let Mintruder take care of things for now." Still flustered, but feeling a sense of relief, I nod. I have a think, then smile. I look at Barrel. "You'll be assisting Mindtruder. Don't let me down." Katie comes over and gives me a quick hug. "You'll be ok, Regole. Just relax and enjoy yourself! You too, Purge!" \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [It's Not Just Business.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/xoduo6/its_not_just_business/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	(I can't fucking believe this right now!) I thought staring at the Heroic Alliances "strike force" preparing to launch a surprise attack on my house, (I'm retired, how did they even find me). I debated weather or not to open the door, (like it was much of a choice, I can't really let them in). I open the door, step out onto the porch and quietly close it behind me. I crossed my arms, turned around, and was met by Invicta's sword at my throat already, (Nice to see she hasn't changed at all.) I thought. "Why are you'll here?" I asked steadily. "We are here to finally bring your plans to an end Damocles!" Scorch declared loudly. "We know you've been planning something, your steady decline in activity followed by your disappearance can only mean one-" "I'm retired, now be quiet or leave." I interrupted. The five of them stood in silence for a moment before Pacer cleared his throat. "Wait like, retired retired, like no more plans of revenge or global domination?" (I never even planned for world domination, so was just roped into it!) I thought irritated. "Yes Pacer, I'm retired. As in I've gone straight." I stated. This initiated another wave of silence. Invicta lowered her sword and slightly cocked her head, (Damn I forgot how cute it is when she does that.) I thought, suppressing a smile. "How can we trust YOU of all people!?" Juggernaut demanded, surprisingly quiet. "Becau-" "MOMMA DON'T GO!" A voice cried from upstairs. I didn't waste a moment as I spun around and threw open the door, dashing up the stairs to my daughter's room. The Alliance's strike team followed me, undoubtedly thinking I was lying all along, but I didn't care. I opened her to see her sitting up in the fetal position crying, I entered causing her to look up and hold out her arms for me to pick her up. I did so, holding her close (this was a bad one.) "Dad, why did she have to go, why did she have to stop uncle Juton, IT'S NOT FAIR DADDY , IT'S NOT FAIR!" She cried. "I know sweetie, I know." I said, trying to keep my emotions level. I stood there holding my crying daughter as the heroes entered the room. "That's it Da-" was all Invicta managed to say before she saw me holding my daughter. I turned and gave them a stern look before pulling my daughter away just enough to see her face. Her eyes were dreadfully red and puffy. "Hey Alyssa, you want to eat some ice cream and watch Treasure Planet downstairs with me?" I asked softly. She sobbed a few seconds more before dragging a ragged breath, "Yes please." She choked. I gave her a soft smile, "just a quick question, who was your favorite hero in the Alliance?" I asked, knowing exactly what she would say. "Invicta." She sobbed quietly, calming down some more. I didn't say anything while I turned a little so she could see the heroes behind me. Her face lit up immediately, (thank God, it kills me seeing her that upset) I though slightly relieved, and slightly amused given the heroes reactions. They didn't say a word as I took Alyssa out of the room and down the stairs. I took her into the kitchen and sat her down at the table while I opened the freezer. I knew the heroes entered the kitchen because of Alyssa's excited humming. "What ice cream do you want sweety?" I asked. "Can I have moose tracks please?" She asked back. "Sure thing, what about you guys, you want any ice cream?" I asked, fairly certain they would refuse. "Uh... You got any mint chocolate chip?" Pacer asked "I'll have strawberry if that's alright." Juggernaut said, as if he was slightly excited. I pulled the tubs out and set them on the counter, "what about you three?" I ask, gesturing towards Invicta, Scorch, and Trigger, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. "I uh, guess cookie dough if you have any." Pacer said slowly. "I'll take vanilla I guess." Trigger said in her typical jonty tone. "Chocolate please." Came Invicta's voice. I pulled those three out and grabbed my death by chocolate ice cream, then closed the freezer lid. I grabbed seven bowls, made everyone a bowl of ice cream and went into the living room, followed closely by everyone else. We all sat down on my L couch, Alyssa sat right next to Invicta while the others sat on the other side of Invicta, and I sat next to Alyssa. I grabbed the remote and put on Treasure Planet. We watched in relative silence. Past halfway through the movie I looked over and saw Alyssa, asleep, leaning against Invicta. I gently took her bowl and stood. "Anyone want more or are you all done?" I asked quietly. They shook their heads as I started taking their bowls, Trigger helped collect some and we took them to the sink. "I hope you know that we are gonna want an explanation." She said uncharacteristically soft. I nodded and we returned to the movie. Once it was finished, I went to gently gab Alyssa and take her up stairs to her bed, but Invicta had already beaten me to it. She quietly picked her up and followed me to Alyssa's room, laying her down and covering her up. We left the room and returned downstairs, I sat in my recliner this time while Invicta sat back on the couch.	I sit nervously in the interrogation room. My hands are chained, I insisted on that point, placed behind my back. Mindtruder joins Purge and I. "Warper, this isn't going to be easy. It never is. You'll need to focus as well, otherwise you may instinctively trigger your powers. I feel it's vital that we take no chances. I've seen difficult situations before." She steps aside, holding the door open. A trembling, terrified Barrel walks in. "Barrel? What are YOU doing here?" Purge starts charging her powers. Mindtruder calms her down. "Purge, it's ok. I have it under control. He wouldn't DARE try anything." She narrows her eyes at Barrel. "Right?" Barrel nods. "I'm just here in case Warper freaks out." Mindtruder sits opposite me. "Purge, if you would..." Purge removes the helmet that was blocking my powers. The door is forced open, and we all look as Connor, along with Katie, enters. "We're just in time! Katie was desperate to be here!" Connor announces. Katie walks over. "You'll be fine, Regole. I'm here." Purge grunts at her. "He had me." "Purge" Mindtruder interjects. "Katie and Warper have an understanding between each other, due to how similar their circumstances are. No need to get jealous." My mind goes hazy for a moment as Mindtruder uses her powers. INSIDE WARPER'S MIND The imagery feels so real... it's like I'm ACTUALLY in a cottage on a quiet lane... after my relapse, I had to retire... for everyone's safety... I was no longer a warm, friendly face helping people... I became known as 'The Slave Master', after letting greed get the better of me. I just want to escape my past... my old life... "SLAVE MASTER!" a voice yells. I whip around. Morpha is there. "Morpha, I gave that up. I'm nothing now. I just want-" "SHUT UP! I LISTENED TO YOU! I TRUSTED YOU! WE ALL DID!" "We?" I glance around. I'm surrounded by all the member of the Rehabilitation Foundation. All now considered heroes. "I... I never wanted-" "I should never have joined you, you monster! I actually loved you!" Purge begins weeping. I'm a monster... why did I betray everyone? For riches and wealth? It wasn't worth it... Nothing can make up for what I've done... not even death... OUTSIDE WARPER'S MIND I gasp. "I'm horrible... absolutely vile..." I can barely register anything, but I notice Mindtruder walk up to Purge. Purge nods, walks over to me, and gives me a deep kiss. I try to pull away, terrified, but she won't let me. She keeps our mouths locked together, inserting her tongue past my lips. I succumb, and reciprocate. After a moment, she lets go. "Warper, you're not a monster. You never have been. You never will be." She strokes my cheek, stopping her finger on my shoulder. A warmth emanates from her hand. I can feel my face flushed, tears rolling down my cheeks. I unlock my cuffs using my powers, stand up, and pull Purge into an embrace. "Do you mean it?" "Of course." She looks at me, smiling. "You need a break from here. Let's go somewhere together. Let Mintruder take care of things for now." Still flustered, but feeling a sense of relief, I nod. I have a think, then smile. I look at Barrel. "You'll be assisting Mindtruder. Don't let me down." Katie comes over and gives me a quick hug. "You'll be ok, Regole. Just relax and enjoy yourself! You too, Purge!" \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [It's Not Just Business.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/xoduo6/its_not_just_business/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	I pull the beanie over my head, and loop on my face mask, walking into the market. It's crowded. That's good. I grab only a couple groceries. I wasn't even really going out just to get groceries. I just needed to get out of my apartment. I haven't let myself leave ever since . . . well, it's a long story. But let's just say it's not safe out here. I pay at the register and head out of the building. The brisk November air chills me, but I enjoy it. It doesn't get very cold down here in south Texas, so it's a blessing when temperature drops below seventy. I turn the corner of the sidewalk, almost at my apartment building, when Prefeira jumps in front of me. I flinch, but I'm not scared. I'm just annoyed. "What're you playing at, jerkface?" she says as I walk past her, not even looking. She jogs to catch up with me. "I know you're up to something." "Leave me alone," I respond. "I told you already, I'm done with this game." "It's not a game," she scoffs, stepping in front of me and stopping me from entering the apartment property. "You destroyed buildings, threatened to kill people-" "Yeah, but did I hurt anyone, ever? No. I was just a bored kid, Prefeira. A kid who was playing a game of cat-and-mouse for way too long. So I'm done." "But you can't be. Y-you were always so determined to win." I push her aside and start walking up the stairs to my apartment. "I was. But it wasn't anything deep." I pull my keys out of my pocket. "Sorry you can't fight your antagonist now. I thought you'd be happy about this." "I mean . . . yeah. I guess. But what do I do now?" "My advice?" I say, opening the door and stepping into the room. "Find someone else to pick on." The door slams shut, closing me off from my old nemesis.	I sit nervously in the interrogation room. My hands are chained, I insisted on that point, placed behind my back. Mindtruder joins Purge and I. "Warper, this isn't going to be easy. It never is. You'll need to focus as well, otherwise you may instinctively trigger your powers. I feel it's vital that we take no chances. I've seen difficult situations before." She steps aside, holding the door open. A trembling, terrified Barrel walks in. "Barrel? What are YOU doing here?" Purge starts charging her powers. Mindtruder calms her down. "Purge, it's ok. I have it under control. He wouldn't DARE try anything." She narrows her eyes at Barrel. "Right?" Barrel nods. "I'm just here in case Warper freaks out." Mindtruder sits opposite me. "Purge, if you would..." Purge removes the helmet that was blocking my powers. The door is forced open, and we all look as Connor, along with Katie, enters. "We're just in time! Katie was desperate to be here!" Connor announces. Katie walks over. "You'll be fine, Regole. I'm here." Purge grunts at her. "He had me." "Purge" Mindtruder interjects. "Katie and Warper have an understanding between each other, due to how similar their circumstances are. No need to get jealous." My mind goes hazy for a moment as Mindtruder uses her powers. INSIDE WARPER'S MIND The imagery feels so real... it's like I'm ACTUALLY in a cottage on a quiet lane... after my relapse, I had to retire... for everyone's safety... I was no longer a warm, friendly face helping people... I became known as 'The Slave Master', after letting greed get the better of me. I just want to escape my past... my old life... "SLAVE MASTER!" a voice yells. I whip around. Morpha is there. "Morpha, I gave that up. I'm nothing now. I just want-" "SHUT UP! I LISTENED TO YOU! I TRUSTED YOU! WE ALL DID!" "We?" I glance around. I'm surrounded by all the member of the Rehabilitation Foundation. All now considered heroes. "I... I never wanted-" "I should never have joined you, you monster! I actually loved you!" Purge begins weeping. I'm a monster... why did I betray everyone? For riches and wealth? It wasn't worth it... Nothing can make up for what I've done... not even death... OUTSIDE WARPER'S MIND I gasp. "I'm horrible... absolutely vile..." I can barely register anything, but I notice Mindtruder walk up to Purge. Purge nods, walks over to me, and gives me a deep kiss. I try to pull away, terrified, but she won't let me. She keeps our mouths locked together, inserting her tongue past my lips. I succumb, and reciprocate. After a moment, she lets go. "Warper, you're not a monster. You never have been. You never will be." She strokes my cheek, stopping her finger on my shoulder. A warmth emanates from her hand. I can feel my face flushed, tears rolling down my cheeks. I unlock my cuffs using my powers, stand up, and pull Purge into an embrace. "Do you mean it?" "Of course." She looks at me, smiling. "You need a break from here. Let's go somewhere together. Let Mintruder take care of things for now." Still flustered, but feeling a sense of relief, I nod. I have a think, then smile. I look at Barrel. "You'll be assisting Mindtruder. Don't let me down." Katie comes over and gives me a quick hug. "You'll be ok, Regole. Just relax and enjoy yourself! You too, Purge!" \_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_ This story is a part of my series, [It's Not Just Business.](https://www.reddit.com/r/StoriesbyCrystal/comments/xoduo6/its_not_just_business/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3) Please check it out!
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	(I can't fucking believe this right now!) I thought staring at the Heroic Alliances "strike force" preparing to launch a surprise attack on my house, (I'm retired, how did they even find me). I debated weather or not to open the door, (like it was much of a choice, I can't really let them in). I open the door, step out onto the porch and quietly close it behind me. I crossed my arms, turned around, and was met by Invicta's sword at my throat already, (Nice to see she hasn't changed at all.) I thought. "Why are you'll here?" I asked steadily. "We are here to finally bring your plans to an end Damocles!" Scorch declared loudly. "We know you've been planning something, your steady decline in activity followed by your disappearance can only mean one-" "I'm retired, now be quiet or leave." I interrupted. The five of them stood in silence for a moment before Pacer cleared his throat. "Wait like, retired retired, like no more plans of revenge or global domination?" (I never even planned for world domination, so was just roped into it!) I thought irritated. "Yes Pacer, I'm retired. As in I've gone straight." I stated. This initiated another wave of silence. Invicta lowered her sword and slightly cocked her head, (Damn I forgot how cute it is when she does that.) I thought, suppressing a smile. "How can we trust YOU of all people!?" Juggernaut demanded, surprisingly quiet. "Becau-" "MOMMA DON'T GO!" A voice cried from upstairs. I didn't waste a moment as I spun around and threw open the door, dashing up the stairs to my daughter's room. The Alliance's strike team followed me, undoubtedly thinking I was lying all along, but I didn't care. I opened her to see her sitting up in the fetal position crying, I entered causing her to look up and hold out her arms for me to pick her up. I did so, holding her close (this was a bad one.) "Dad, why did she have to go, why did she have to stop uncle Juton, IT'S NOT FAIR DADDY , IT'S NOT FAIR!" She cried. "I know sweetie, I know." I said, trying to keep my emotions level. I stood there holding my crying daughter as the heroes entered the room. "That's it Da-" was all Invicta managed to say before she saw me holding my daughter. I turned and gave them a stern look before pulling my daughter away just enough to see her face. Her eyes were dreadfully red and puffy. "Hey Alyssa, you want to eat some ice cream and watch Treasure Planet downstairs with me?" I asked softly. She sobbed a few seconds more before dragging a ragged breath, "Yes please." She choked. I gave her a soft smile, "just a quick question, who was your favorite hero in the Alliance?" I asked, knowing exactly what she would say. "Invicta." She sobbed quietly, calming down some more. I didn't say anything while I turned a little so she could see the heroes behind me. Her face lit up immediately, (thank God, it kills me seeing her that upset) I though slightly relieved, and slightly amused given the heroes reactions. They didn't say a word as I took Alyssa out of the room and down the stairs. I took her into the kitchen and sat her down at the table while I opened the freezer. I knew the heroes entered the kitchen because of Alyssa's excited humming. "What ice cream do you want sweety?" I asked. "Can I have moose tracks please?" She asked back. "Sure thing, what about you guys, you want any ice cream?" I asked, fairly certain they would refuse. "Uh... You got any mint chocolate chip?" Pacer asked "I'll have strawberry if that's alright." Juggernaut said, as if he was slightly excited. I pulled the tubs out and set them on the counter, "what about you three?" I ask, gesturing towards Invicta, Scorch, and Trigger, who had been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. "I uh, guess cookie dough if you have any." Pacer said slowly. "I'll take vanilla I guess." Trigger said in her typical jonty tone. "Chocolate please." Came Invicta's voice. I pulled those three out and grabbed my death by chocolate ice cream, then closed the freezer lid. I grabbed seven bowls, made everyone a bowl of ice cream and went into the living room, followed closely by everyone else. We all sat down on my L couch, Alyssa sat right next to Invicta while the others sat on the other side of Invicta, and I sat next to Alyssa. I grabbed the remote and put on Treasure Planet. We watched in relative silence. Past halfway through the movie I looked over and saw Alyssa, asleep, leaning against Invicta. I gently took her bowl and stood. "Anyone want more or are you all done?" I asked quietly. They shook their heads as I started taking their bowls, Trigger helped collect some and we took them to the sink. "I hope you know that we are gonna want an explanation." She said uncharacteristically soft. I nodded and we returned to the movie. Once it was finished, I went to gently gab Alyssa and take her up stairs to her bed, but Invicta had already beaten me to it. She quietly picked her up and followed me to Alyssa's room, laying her down and covering her up. We left the room and returned downstairs, I sat in my recliner this time while Invicta sat back on the couch.	They say every teenager makes dumb mistakes, thing's that'll make them cringe a little bit or laugh at their own past stupidity when they look at old photos. However, my teenage mistakes weren't at the level of a tongue piercing or an at home haircut. I became a renowned supervillain at the age of thirteen. It started during the seventh grade when I'd sneak out to go hang out with my friends and we'd go around acting like we were invincible. At first it started out fairly harmless, vandalism and a bit of petty theft, and just angering people for the sake of it. We stuck to our group and never told. Until Marlee's fifteenth birthday. You see, the rest of the girls were a great deal older than me, most seniors or juniors, but they didn't mind, and neither did I. Probably because they all had a crush on my brother, William. He was four years older than me and basically the most popular guy in school. Marlee was the second youngest in our group, the youngest being me, and she really wanted us to drive down to the beach for her special day, but she didn't have a car, and she didn't have a license (but that probably wouldn't have stopped her). So naturally Sophie (the oldest and the most demanding) grabbed her mom's car and picked us up and drove us down to the beach. I remember Sophie and the other five girls laying in the sun, trying to tan while Marlee and I jumped the waves. We were overall just having a good time. There were some guys there, so of course we flirted a bit, but they never seemed to like me much. Sophie'd occasionally make a mean comment or two, but that's just how she was. When the sun set, all the boys left, and it was just us girls and the smell of saltwater. Eventually Sophie got up, so of course all the other girls followed, and to my surprise she came to tap me on the shoulder. "Hey Liza! You look cute." Sophie smiled, and it eased my nerves slightly. I was already self conscious enough about wearing a bikini for the first time, and the prospect of having Sophie come to me for a one-on-one chat was everything, and getting a compliment from Sophie was like discovering a living dinosaur, it never happened. "Thanks." I muttered, I could hear the sound of the beach clearer due to the lack of visitors, and it was mesmerizing. That's when Sophie suggested I play a trick on Marlee, shove her forward into the ocean. I know, who would do something like that? I would. So I pushed her, even though the tide was high. Let's just say that Marlee never got back up that night. Suddenly Sophie started pushing me more and more, until we'd killed off two more, but little did I know someone was watching that night, and all those nights. Eventually, I dropped out of school, and Sophie and I would go on our killing spree. I thought I knew everything about life, everyone is gonna die anyway, why not kill them now? I knew it was wrong, but I was desperate for Sophie's approval. Maybe it's because she was older and cooler, or maybe it was because of her deadly smile, and her blonde hair that swayed in the breeze that made me do whatever she said. I was dubbed the 'Nighttime Assassin' and I felt like I was on top of the world, and Sophie was by my side, but in actuality, I was her toy. A few years later, I got sick of all of the madness, and I killed her. But I was sixteen, a supervillain who's never really known anything else. So I started making threats to get what I wanted. "I'll kill you unless I get 10000 dollars" or "Give me all that you have or I'll kill you". I didn't really mean any of them, but nobody knew that. I'd left my home, I had no friends left alive, and honestly I was incredibly lonely. So I'd make threats against this hero guy who called himself 'Venture Man'. He stopped all the major 'evil' plans from going into action, so the world viewed him as the greatest man alive. I'd get into little fights with him every day, just for a bit of amusement, until one day I decided to start up some trouble, but when I saw the face of my older brother William staring back at me. After that I took it upon myself to have a reformation. I went to 'kindness classes' and all that bullshit. I opened up a yoga studio for goodness sake's. Yet every day I find William outside my window, smiling at me, challenging me to a fight. sorry it's kind of a bad ending, but tried my best.
	[WP] You're a recently retired supervillain, but all of the heroes keep attacking you, thinking you are up to something.	I pull the beanie over my head, and loop on my face mask, walking into the market. It's crowded. That's good. I grab only a couple groceries. I wasn't even really going out just to get groceries. I just needed to get out of my apartment. I haven't let myself leave ever since . . . well, it's a long story. But let's just say it's not safe out here. I pay at the register and head out of the building. The brisk November air chills me, but I enjoy it. It doesn't get very cold down here in south Texas, so it's a blessing when temperature drops below seventy. I turn the corner of the sidewalk, almost at my apartment building, when Prefeira jumps in front of me. I flinch, but I'm not scared. I'm just annoyed. "What're you playing at, jerkface?" she says as I walk past her, not even looking. She jogs to catch up with me. "I know you're up to something." "Leave me alone," I respond. "I told you already, I'm done with this game." "It's not a game," she scoffs, stepping in front of me and stopping me from entering the apartment property. "You destroyed buildings, threatened to kill people-" "Yeah, but did I hurt anyone, ever? No. I was just a bored kid, Prefeira. A kid who was playing a game of cat-and-mouse for way too long. So I'm done." "But you can't be. Y-you were always so determined to win." I push her aside and start walking up the stairs to my apartment. "I was. But it wasn't anything deep." I pull my keys out of my pocket. "Sorry you can't fight your antagonist now. I thought you'd be happy about this." "I mean . . . yeah. I guess. But what do I do now?" "My advice?" I say, opening the door and stepping into the room. "Find someone else to pick on." The door slams shut, closing me off from my old nemesis.	They say every teenager makes dumb mistakes, thing's that'll make them cringe a little bit or laugh at their own past stupidity when they look at old photos. However, my teenage mistakes weren't at the level of a tongue piercing or an at home haircut. I became a renowned supervillain at the age of thirteen. It started during the seventh grade when I'd sneak out to go hang out with my friends and we'd go around acting like we were invincible. At first it started out fairly harmless, vandalism and a bit of petty theft, and just angering people for the sake of it. We stuck to our group and never told. Until Marlee's fifteenth birthday. You see, the rest of the girls were a great deal older than me, most seniors or juniors, but they didn't mind, and neither did I. Probably because they all had a crush on my brother, William. He was four years older than me and basically the most popular guy in school. Marlee was the second youngest in our group, the youngest being me, and she really wanted us to drive down to the beach for her special day, but she didn't have a car, and she didn't have a license (but that probably wouldn't have stopped her). So naturally Sophie (the oldest and the most demanding) grabbed her mom's car and picked us up and drove us down to the beach. I remember Sophie and the other five girls laying in the sun, trying to tan while Marlee and I jumped the waves. We were overall just having a good time. There were some guys there, so of course we flirted a bit, but they never seemed to like me much. Sophie'd occasionally make a mean comment or two, but that's just how she was. When the sun set, all the boys left, and it was just us girls and the smell of saltwater. Eventually Sophie got up, so of course all the other girls followed, and to my surprise she came to tap me on the shoulder. "Hey Liza! You look cute." Sophie smiled, and it eased my nerves slightly. I was already self conscious enough about wearing a bikini for the first time, and the prospect of having Sophie come to me for a one-on-one chat was everything, and getting a compliment from Sophie was like discovering a living dinosaur, it never happened. "Thanks." I muttered, I could hear the sound of the beach clearer due to the lack of visitors, and it was mesmerizing. That's when Sophie suggested I play a trick on Marlee, shove her forward into the ocean. I know, who would do something like that? I would. So I pushed her, even though the tide was high. Let's just say that Marlee never got back up that night. Suddenly Sophie started pushing me more and more, until we'd killed off two more, but little did I know someone was watching that night, and all those nights. Eventually, I dropped out of school, and Sophie and I would go on our killing spree. I thought I knew everything about life, everyone is gonna die anyway, why not kill them now? I knew it was wrong, but I was desperate for Sophie's approval. Maybe it's because she was older and cooler, or maybe it was because of her deadly smile, and her blonde hair that swayed in the breeze that made me do whatever she said. I was dubbed the 'Nighttime Assassin' and I felt like I was on top of the world, and Sophie was by my side, but in actuality, I was her toy. A few years later, I got sick of all of the madness, and I killed her. But I was sixteen, a supervillain who's never really known anything else. So I started making threats to get what I wanted. "I'll kill you unless I get 10000 dollars" or "Give me all that you have or I'll kill you". I didn't really mean any of them, but nobody knew that. I'd left my home, I had no friends left alive, and honestly I was incredibly lonely. So I'd make threats against this hero guy who called himself 'Venture Man'. He stopped all the major 'evil' plans from going into action, so the world viewed him as the greatest man alive. I'd get into little fights with him every day, just for a bit of amusement, until one day I decided to start up some trouble, but when I saw the face of my older brother William staring back at me. After that I took it upon myself to have a reformation. I went to 'kindness classes' and all that bullshit. I opened up a yoga studio for goodness sake's. Yet every day I find William outside my window, smiling at me, challenging me to a fight. sorry it's kind of a bad ending, but tried my best.
	[WP] You accidentally proposed to your Arch nemesis but are surprised to find they actually like you and happily accept your proposal. You wonder how you never realized this as you walk the aisle with them.	It was a typical Monday morning, and Jane was rushing to get to work on time. She had a big presentation to give and couldn't afford to be late. As she was gathering her things, she stumbled upon a small velvet box that she had no recollection of owning. Curious, she opened the box and found a shiny diamond ring nestled inside. Suddenly, it all came back to her - the previous night, she had gotten extremely drunk at a party and had somehow ended up at the home of her arch nemesis, Mark. In her drunken state, she must have proposed to him. Panic set in as Jane realized the gravity of the situation. Mark was her sworn enemy, and the thought of being married to him filled her with dread. But as she made her way to work, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had made a terrible mistake. As she approached the office, she was met with a sea of congratulations and well wishes. Apparently, Mark had accepted her proposal and had told everyone about it. Feeling embarrassed and confused, Jane made her way to Mark's office to confront him. But as she opened the door, she was surprised to find him beaming with happiness. "I can't believe you actually said yes," Jane said, still in disbelief. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I've secretly had feelings for you for a long time," Mark admitted. "And when you proposed to me last night, I couldn't turn you down. I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not telling you sooner." Jane was floored by Mark's confession and realized that she had completely misjudged him. As they walked down the aisle together, she couldn't help but wonder how she had never realized that he cared for her. And as they exchanged vows, she knew that they had a chance at a happily ever after, despite their rocky start	"Agent 6, aren't you happy?", Agent 8 teases as they slap 6 in the back. "No more stupid rivalries, or back stabbing, or those stupid arguments that just make us think 'just fuck him already' you know?". 8 takes another big swig. "I didn't expect to get this far, I honestly didn't mean it," 6 hardly taking a sip of her drink. "I just wanted to get 7 cornered and flustered. But he turned it around on me knowing everyone was watching... what's his angle", 6 grips firmly to her drink. 8 raises an eyebrow as he gulps down the rest of his drink. "Sigh... is something the matter?" 8 inquires. 6, now looking down at her drink, "I don't have proof, but I think he's a monster. An inhuman piece of trash who betrayed my brother. I was so close, and I thought getting in his head would leave me just a small opening in his facade to know for sure." 8 now feeling the drinks he's finished "pfffft... and you thought a wedding would do that!?! Haaaa, 6 you are so naive it's adorable but also kinda troubling." 8 quickly composes himself, "Look, I promised your brother to look after you if anything were to happen to him. I miss him too." 8 looks to the bar and side-eyes 6 with a hint of anger in his look, "so, you suspect him too." 8 gets quiet and with a low calm voice like an approaching storm say, "6, tell me. Why are you so adamant about 7?" 6 now feeling a weighted cloud around her as she has never seen 8 like this, but knows he won't hurt her. She struggles to find the words or courage to respond. "6!" 8 yells slamming his empty drink destroying the glass. "Why are you afraid of 7!? Tell me you know... Tell me!" 6 now changing from fear to anger like a butterfly shedding it's lonesome constrictive husk. "BECAUSE 7 ATE 9!"
	[WP] You accidentally proposed to your Arch nemesis but are surprised to find they actually like you and happily accept your proposal. You wonder how you never realized this as you walk the aisle with them.	Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into... I don't even know how it happened. It just did. In the blink of an eye, I was down on my knee with a ring in my hand, asking my worst enemy to marry me. I was surprised, to say the least, at his answer, which was an overjoyed "YES!" Now I'm in a pure white dress, my hair all nicely done, a veil over my head, and a bouque of flowers in my hand, nervously gliding down the aisle with my father's arm embracing mine. I kept wondering when I'd die, maybe my flowers have a bomb in them and they'll explode any moment, or maybe there's a hitman in the seats. But I made it to the front, face-to-face with my enemy, all dressed up in his suit and tie. Our eyes locked, and his usual malice-filled eyes shimmered with love and adoration. I have to say, it made my heart flutter a bit. "All dolled up for me, huh?" he flirted. I let my eyes roll. "I never agreed to this," I snarled quietly. "Really?" he smirked. "Isn't the man supposed to propose? I think you're the one who came up with this to begin with." The priest began running through his speech about love and cheesy stuff that I couldn't care less about while me and my soon-to-be-husband quietly argued. "Please. I was set up," I lied. "That proposal was meant for someone else." "Really? If I recall, it was a golden ring, made for males, with turquois engraved into the sides. My favorite gem. You really pay attention, huh?" "Whatever," I muttered. "At least let them think you love me," he said, his voice dropped to an ominous tone. "We can save all of this bickering for later, but keep your eyes peeled, princess. You never know what's about to hit~" And before I knew it, it was time to cut the cake.	"Agent 6, aren't you happy?", Agent 8 teases as they slap 6 in the back. "No more stupid rivalries, or back stabbing, or those stupid arguments that just make us think 'just fuck him already' you know?". 8 takes another big swig. "I didn't expect to get this far, I honestly didn't mean it," 6 hardly taking a sip of her drink. "I just wanted to get 7 cornered and flustered. But he turned it around on me knowing everyone was watching... what's his angle", 6 grips firmly to her drink. 8 raises an eyebrow as he gulps down the rest of his drink. "Sigh... is something the matter?" 8 inquires. 6, now looking down at her drink, "I don't have proof, but I think he's a monster. An inhuman piece of trash who betrayed my brother. I was so close, and I thought getting in his head would leave me just a small opening in his facade to know for sure." 8 now feeling the drinks he's finished "pfffft... and you thought a wedding would do that!?! Haaaa, 6 you are so naive it's adorable but also kinda troubling." 8 quickly composes himself, "Look, I promised your brother to look after you if anything were to happen to him. I miss him too." 8 looks to the bar and side-eyes 6 with a hint of anger in his look, "so, you suspect him too." 8 gets quiet and with a low calm voice like an approaching storm say, "6, tell me. Why are you so adamant about 7?" 6 now feeling a weighted cloud around her as she has never seen 8 like this, but knows he won't hurt her. She struggles to find the words or courage to respond. "6!" 8 yells slamming his empty drink destroying the glass. "Why are you afraid of 7!? Tell me you know... Tell me!" 6 now changing from fear to anger like a butterfly shedding it's lonesome constrictive husk. "BECAUSE 7 ATE 9!"
	[WP] - Each Fantasy Race sees themselves as Adventurers and Pioneers. But they each go in different directions, Humans long for the skies, Elves journey over the vast open surface, and Dwarves know in their hearts that the true mysteries lie deep below. Each faction thinks they are right.	"Do you ever wish you could soar above the earth, taking in the view from horizon to horizon, only the wind holding you aloft?" asked the human. "No, that sounds...unpalatable. The deep recesses of the earth call to me. The smell of cinnabar, the tang of cuprium, the ethereal glow of argentum, the vibration of corundum, the visions of quartz. It all is wondrous to explore, to discover, to share with others," the dwarve replied earnestly. "What about you, dear elven one? You sit with us and listen much, yet you speak little of what brings you joy," said the human. "I speak long and much, much too much among my own," the elve replied. "So much that they send me to sit with the likes of you just to shut me up." The human and the dwarve laughed. "Tell us a little of what you say that makes them want to send you our way," the dwarve gently prodded. "If I do, I may lose your company, too. But you have been given fair warning." The elve sat back and seemed to peer off past the two as if something held their gaze. "I live to feel new grounds, new grasses, under my feet. I seek beautiful trees whose shape tells the story of their growth, of having been battered by storms, beaten by winds, and yet they still slowly reach for that sky that you humans wish to soar through, wish so strongly to conquer. "I live to meet young and old, wise and foolish, strong and weak, bold and shy, arrogant and humble, and learn from them. Through each encounter, I am reminded how ignorant I am, how much there is I'll never know. But each and every one has learned something of which I am ignorant and teaches it to me. "I return their gift by telling them something that was told to me, that they didn't know. And little by little, I spread knowledge, share the wisdom and foolishness of others... and spread a bit of foolishness of my own. "I revel in the colors of the seasons, live to hear the storms howl from within the safety of a dwarve's cavern. I sit in the pubs where you humans gather, and listen to your loud exchanges, as the spices of the food cooking on the hearths tickle my nose, reminding me of the many places those same spices permeated the air. "I have come to favor certain paths, even though as the years advance, less and less of the familiar faces greet me, as their younger selves grow and mature. To many I am ancient, but to the young, I am as new as the last spring they saw me. "I have memories of places that are no more that I can only speak of around others like me. We share a common sadness that comes with the burden of seeing so much pass before us. This is why we seek to keep moving. We need to replace what is no more with what is new and wondrous, otherwise we lose ourselves in the past." The elve stopped and sighed. The human nodded in understanding. "So that is why the others send you away. What you speak of is familiar and yet reminds them of so much that has come and gone." "Yes, I know the effect I have on them. They send me away, but they always call me back when the isolation threatens to intrude too much. Together we fight oblivion by laying down our memories on vellum and parchment in letters of aurum. As long as we remember and record it for others, those people and places are not lost. The paths to them are just untraceable." "So, will you speak of me in letters of aurum?" asked the dwarve. "To know my legacy is a few lines held in memory would give me contentment." "Only if you provide me the aurum," laughed the elve. "I will gladly bring you enough aurum to fill sheaves and sheaves of vellum. I will bring you stealite to wipe away your mistakes, though few may they be. I will bring you the finest powdered lapis, ferrous salts, cinnabar, minium, and crystals of agates for polishing your words." "I will gladly bring you the flight feathers of the geese to write those words, and the eggs of their hens for you to mix into those powders so the words you write can glow, if I knew I'd live on through a few lines penned by your hand," said the human. "You both place a burden on me, but it seems you wish to ease it as best you can," laughed the elve. "What if those lines are not complimentary? We are not known for our, as you humans say, diplomacy and you dwarves describe us as speaking few words but the most necessary ones to be heard." "What will I care?" replied the human. "I suspect you only record what is no more, and by the time what few lines may be laid down that may relate to me, whether complimentary or fact, I will have passed onto my next adventure." "I feel the same," the dwarve added. "What I give you freely is for you to keep alive that which cannot be held alive any other way. By the time I have become one with the earth itself, I will no longer be held foolish by my vanity." "Oh, you are quite the vain one," teased the human. "Look at these baubles! Don't they shine! I found them!" he mimicked the dwarve. "Oh, to see the view from the top of that mountain as the sun rises behind me, dear dwarve. Why you don't ever join me, I cannot fathom," the dwarve mimicked the human. The elve smiled. "Both of you are why I tread this path. Sharing your meals and the long evenings together these cold days are gifts more valuable than anything you have offered me. "You both have taught me that if any of us tried to live as another, we would not be content, but cursed." The human raised their mug. "To the lives that fit us, that we wear like our favorite capes, that allow us to enrich ourselves." The dwarve raised their mug to the human's. "To riches found and laid to vellum, may the words they form forever outstrip them in value." The elve raised their mug to the human's and the dwarve's. "To the riches found in the lives of others, far outstripping the value of life itself." The three touched their mugs together and all drank deeply. Laying their empty mugs aside, none of the three wished to break the ensuing silence as each found contentment by simply basking in the quiet companionship of the others.	OOC: I am taking this in a very weird direction inspired by nothing but my daydreams. There are five sigils on the temple of Inikra. The first is that of the Kyleth, the Ji-Hatane (the Ji of the land). These large creatures live for adventure, the plains, the mountains, the forests, the steppes. Their entire culture is based on their rugged individualism, but not only that but so is their biology: They do not gain their typical adult skin tone of deep blue unless they spent an entire year alone relying on nothing but their wit, strength and cunning. Their nomadic culture generally didn't lend itself to founding permanent settlements, but the crown of the Kyleth tribes is Kyl, their one and only city. It plays such an important role in Kyleth identity that the Kyleth are named after the city, not the other way around. In their language, Kyleth means those who are allowed in Kyl. The second sigil is that of the M'lkha, the Ji-Moulok (the Ji of the ground). They are a complete subterranean species after they hunted their overworld prey creatures to extinction. The last survivors of the Cataclysm. Small, eyeless bipedals that seem to be very communally minded and dispassionate or sombre in their dealings. That didn't stop them from forming networks of mines, mushroom farms and tunnels that spread under entire continents. They have a massive network of small settlements, many bearing names that supposedly stem from before the Cataclysm. The third sigil is for the Kariten, the Ji-Susune (the Ji of the sky). They used magic to take to the sky and never looked back. Their appearance resembles smaller, juvenile reddish Kyleth with wings. They land only twice in their lives: When they give birth and when they die. While many consider the Kariten savages because they lack many of the traditional trappings of culture, they have their own magical traditions and their oral tradition is immense. They don't have cities or similar settlements but instead swarms that life, hunt, sing and reminisce together. The fourth sigil is for the Waveborn, the Ji-Hatlith (the Ji of the depths). Little is known about them except for their grandiose cities under the sea with names no landborn, soilborn or airborn tongue can even hope to pronounce and their festivals in which the depths carry the lights of the royals families. Then there is the fifth sigil. The Ji-Katay-ja-janda (the Ji of those who leave/left/will leave, old Tara-Kyl has no explicitely marked tenses). It is said that these took to the world beyond the sky. And that they never returned. Many species all over the planet call shooting stars "Lights of the Seydya", the supposed name of the species.
	[WP] Don't Write About Reverse Psychology	No one had ever told Jason he was an office drone. He was a starving artist, supporting himself until his talent was discovered. Every parental phone call ended with a warm "Son, we believe in you. One day you'll make it. Hang in there". "I will", he always replied. As day after day passed away, he remained confident that success was just around the corner. Each day of office drudgery would be his last. He was going to do more, he was going to be more. He had no doubts that he would be an artist. No one ever told him he couldn't. So he didn't.	I'm not writing about reverse psychology. I'm writing about how I'm writing about not writing reverse psychology. I'm not sure if I completed the prompt or not, but hopefully I've confused you enough for you to not notice. What?
	[WP] Don't Write About Reverse Psychology	"Guilty," says the jury. You are sitting in a grandiose courtroom during one of the most significant trials in the history of the United Regent Integrity's Northern Expansion. It is a Monday. The prosecution consists of dozens of the world's best lawyers and philosophers, representing the millions wronged. They would cheer at the sentencing, but everyone wants to hear the sentence. You can see some of them opening wine and champagne bottles. The defense: You, representing yourself. "For crimes against epistemology, I hereby sentence you to death," says the judge. You raise an eyebrow and frown. The prosecution's crowd cheers and dances - a bailiff grudgingly brings up a noise barrier. You can see that some of the lawyers are stripping down and the press is dancing to an unknown tribal beat. "... and furthermore, due to the heretical nature of your crimes, the execution will take before this Friday. You will not be told when, where or how the execution will take place, but only that it will!" announces the executioner. "Anything to say?" The crowd stomps and cheers enough to make your phone vibrate off the table. They clothed members throw off their clothes and you avert your eyes. "Yes. If the execution takes place on Friday, then I will know because I am alive on Thursday. As it cannot take place on Friday, I also know that it cannot take place on Thursday - if I am alive on Wednesday, then I will know that I will die Wednesday. And so on, until the execution cannot take place on Monday because all the other days are expected," you say, smugly crossing your arms and carefully smiling. Your judge, jury, and executioner stares at you for a second. He grabs something out of his pocket, aims it at your face and fires. You die unexpectedly. "By Sagan, that kid was fucking annoying. Rest in peace."	I'm not writing about reverse psychology. I'm writing about how I'm writing about not writing reverse psychology. I'm not sure if I completed the prompt or not, but hopefully I've confused you enough for you to not notice. What?
	[WP] Don't Write About Reverse Psychology	Do you mean the subtle art of telling someone not to do something that in reality is exactly what you want them to do, knowing full well that if you tell them not to then that is precisely what they will do simply because you just suggested the possibility that they could do it? Okay, I won't mention that.	I'm not writing about reverse psychology. I'm writing about how I'm writing about not writing reverse psychology. I'm not sure if I completed the prompt or not, but hopefully I've confused you enough for you to not notice. What?
	[WP] Don't Write About Reverse Psychology	The game	I'm not writing about reverse psychology. I'm writing about how I'm writing about not writing reverse psychology. I'm not sure if I completed the prompt or not, but hopefully I've confused you enough for you to not notice. What?
Write about an object in a peculiar or abnormal state (e. g. a car tipped on it's side, a burnt patch of grass, a glass of whiskey where the ice has melted, but the whiskey hasn't been drunk), but don't explicitly say how the object came to be in that state. Instead, explain the state by describing the object and/or one or more characters' reactions to it.	[WP] Exercising Your Subtext Skills	The remnants of the Lucy's sail cloth waved lazily in the current. A grouper poked its head through one of the uncovered portholes before ducking back into the sloop's kitchen. Barnacles clustered on its hull surrounding the wide gash that served as the entreeway for the sand tiger that rested within. Inside, the shark's gills rippled and pulsed in the odd way that allows its kind to respirate while motionless. The octopus that had taken up residence in the empty cabinet that once held two life jackets watched the predator closely through a gap in the rotting wood.	It’s the warm, muggy air of summer. Gnats, moths, and thumbnail-sized bugs are hovering around the field lights that surround the ballpark. It’s finally dark, although you can see the stars and the outlines of purple-black clouds in the sky. The field is still, the green-yellow grasses standing at attention in the outfield. The air is still. A few dandelions have sprung up from the ground. The ladybugs are out again, crawling and feeling their way around each stalk of grass, flitting from one blade to another. Crickets are chirping. The grasshoppers have buried themselves in the brown-red infield dirt. The white, painted lines are scuffed and tossed among the unsettled dirt. The powdery dirt is upturned along the baselines. Three square holes now show the marking-spots for first, second, and third base. The rubber on the pitcher’s mound is scuffed by the scraping of metal and caked with a light coating of dirt. Home plate is also covered with the sheen of dirt, wiped away a few times, and covered again. A small crater has been dug into each batter’s box. The dugouts on both sides of the field are open. The chain-link fences rattle when you press your hands against them. Although some weeds have found their home at the foot of the dugouts, the concrete floors are free of litter except for one Gatorade bottle cap and a Skittles wrapper. The benches shine in the light of the field; the aluminum is still warm. Outside one of the dugouts in the grass is a puddle of water. Almost all of the remaining ice cubes have melted. In the distance, the snack bar is closed. The small brick building has its windows drawn up. The trash cans are empty, and a paper snow cone holder is lying underneath one of them. A raffle ticket is wedged in the door of the boys’ bathroom. The doors are freshly painted. You could smell the odor of fresh paint waft outward in the summer air.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	I feel like a pervert sometimes, but I know I'm not one. I just feel like some people might get that impression because I check out every single female I see. Most of the time I just look for a moment and then go on my way. But I have to at least look. It'll sound stupid but I think I do it because deep down I'm expecting that I'll see a girl who I instantly fall in love with one day. I imagine it as mutual. And maybe I won't even see her first, maybe I'll see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye and then I'll look and suddenly fate will take over and carry us off to this lifelong adventure together. Maybe it's the fact that, despite having been in long term relationships before, I've never been in love. And so it could be me thinking that every dog really does have his day, and that because it's taken so long to find love, the love I finally find will be the much sought after thing called true love. So stupid because it's sort of all based on looks, but I don't know, maybe it's possible. There are so many women in the world. You'd think, if I really believed it was possible, I'd be constantly browsing pictures of girls on Facebook or something, instead of expecting to find that my true love happens to live in the same city I do. But I still do it. Less when I'm dating or in a relationship with someone, but even then I steal glimpses. That all sounded so ridiculous until the day I found her. I say "her" because, again, I'm relying on fate and we're all taught that fate is this magical thing that just does everything for you. You're just a passive spectator while fate does all the work as you sit back and watch it all unfold. Well, it's all true. That's exactly how it is. It rocks. She was on a bus. I was on that thing for a full 20 minutes before I noticed her, which, in retrospect, was funny considering she was wearing a neon orange top that was hard to miss. Not that she was one of those attention whores, because she wasn't. She was sitting next to a guy who I can only assume was with her, although I don't think I noticed him take one look at her the entire time I was staring, nor did he even give me a single glance for that matter, which instantly removed any guilt about taking her away from him. It's true love anyway, and nothing can stop it (if it's real and mutual, of course). Once I saw her, I couldn't look away. After she hadn't noticed me for a while, I got up and sat next to her and our eyes met and her body language made it obvious she felt as happy as I was. But once she saw me, my mind was flooded with emotion. Our minds were flooded. We knew each other even though we didn't. Were we lovers in a past life, or was every molecule of our being configured to sort of fit into the other's molecules? Or was it some psychic link? Or had life trained us to connect like this? I still don't know. And I don't care to investigate because I just always had this feeling as though I shouldn't try to explain it. As if other people didn't deserve to find the formula to it because some greater being wanted it that way. Anyway, long story short, we felt the same way about each other. We wolfed down a quick lunch and sat together just hugging and smiling. Then dinnertime came and we took whatever we couldn't eat from a restaurant back home so we could cuddle more. And then night came and we spent it intertwined in an embrace that basically felt like taking the best moment of our life and putting it on pause. We abstained from sex for the first few days, but eventually it became impossible to avoid and all that waiting and taking it slow paid off in spades. I'd never felt so free to try new things, which was a reminder of how special true love could make things. And I don't mean to be explicit, but the intercourse was mind blowing and I'd find myself behind her, almost getting emotional as I felt closer and closer to her with every thrust. We incorporated foods into it eventually, 9 1/2 weeks style, with her licking it off me before going full on into hours of passionate, animalistic love making. I'm not bragging, believe me, it was just so incredible and so new. But more than the sex, we just almost needed to be touching each other. It felt uncomfortable if some part of me wasn't in contact with her and that made it difficult to do a lot of what I was used to, and it was probably a major reason I got fired from my job at the mill, but man, I didn't care one bit. We'd found each other. And suddenly we went from full on participating in life to just watching it happen while we, these two spirits who no longer had any use for our physical bodies, existed in this realm outside of it all. It was what Heaven probably feels like, and because it was far from a traditional and non-true love fueled romance, it felt extra amazing. She was attentive to all my needs in a way I wasn't used to. It was like we lived to be in service of each other, even if some of those tasks bordered on the mundane things usually found in a relationship. If I was having a rough day, she'd comfort me, and vice versa if she needed me to retrieve her golden smile back for her after a not-so-fun day. We were immediate partners in life, scratching those itches that needed to be scratched and never separating, even when going to the bathroom or bathing. One day we went to the park and I carved our initials into a tree in standard romantic fashion, and that tree became a spot we'd go to often to hang out and enjoy each other, the initials a constant reminder of our love. We lived out 1950's movies and did sappy thing that never felt cheap or fake because just a look into each other's eyes was an instant reminder of fate making us move while the world, and everyone in it, stood perfectly still. There was nothing superficial about what we had, either. In fact, I was sure it would be impossible for other men to find her nearly as attractive as I did, which made me feel somehow more in love with her even though I knew there was no chance she'd stray considering fate was our bond. When two beings merge, you stop paying attention. And a little over a year later, an accident took most of the skin off of her body. Hot grease spilled all over her, and she was forever deformed and if it sounds like I don't care, it's because I don't care. I'd care if she cared, but other than some occasional pain, the fact she forever looked deformed didn't bother her in the slightest. It was especially obvious how much she didn't care when we'd go out to public places and get extra affectionate and people would stare because people can be horrible. And even if some people made it blatantly obvious they were disgusted by her and her scarred flesh, she never showed a hint of worry. It just didn't seem to matter to her, because it didn't matter to me and I was all that mattered to her. That's a lot of matter, ironically, while describing a literal loss of matter (from the grease fire). Yeah, I don't care about it so much I use it to joke with her when she seems sad. Judge me all you want. I just yawned. That's how much I care about other people's opinions. Nine years later and we're still together. As usual, she's sitting right here as I type this. And even though she isn't alive to see it, I feel as though she is, not that I care because having even a piece of her with me is enough. Sometimes I wonder how fate allowed her to die because I kind of thought we'd die together, despite the fact that it was obvious by looking at her, and her scarred body, that she wouldn't live nearly as long as I would. But I don't need to hear her voice, or know that she's thinking something. I'm satisfied by something I can't explain that probably doesn't exist in this realm, because most of her is gone now. What's left seems to be enough. I don't know how I'd feel if the rest went away. I'd like to think she's just merged into me spiritually, and she'll never be able to go away, but I'm not doing anything with the piece of her sitting next to me. Nope. Just in case. I couldn't live without that feeling now that I've felt it. Although as I write this, I wonder if she's waiting for me in the afterlife. She could be calling to me in some dimension I can't sense, and I'd never know it. And really, her physical self isn't alive to feel me, so there's a chance she's not comfortable right now. Maybe she's suffering in Heaven without me. Or Hell. Doesn't matter because I'd go to either as long as she was there. Obviously. I think I'll kill myself just to be sure though. That might sound rough if you don't feel what I feel, but believe me, it makes perfect sense. I just hope humans and dogs share the same heaven. Do you think they do?	I remember that day... so long ago it seems; the memory still bright and expansive like the warm glowing sun. The autumn leaves hit the grass and gave the whispers of a wind just the slightest scent of the earth surrounding it. You smiled at me with those bright and white teeth; mirrors of the sun I called them. Just light coffee it was supposed to be, and it was. Talk and chat, no big deal. I could see it in those ocean blue eyes of yours. The world full of glory, a world you wished to suck the marrow from. In those baby blues, I saw the spark of life. Even now I see the spark as I feed the carnal hunger from the marrow of your life.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	When I was in school, someone in my English class wrote a whole story about what seemed to be an unruly youth causing havoc in a council estate and generally sleuthing about and being shady. In the end, it turns out he was writing about a fox.	The best twist, in my mind, is when you lead the reader into a twist, build it up into a crescendo and yet there is no twist in the climax. and that's the biggest modern twist i can think of. I am at work now. Perhaps i will try to write one later on after.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	I feel like a pervert sometimes, but I know I'm not one. I just feel like some people might get that impression because I check out every single female I see. Most of the time I just look for a moment and then go on my way. But I have to at least look. It'll sound stupid but I think I do it because deep down I'm expecting that I'll see a girl who I instantly fall in love with one day. I imagine it as mutual. And maybe I won't even see her first, maybe I'll see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye and then I'll look and suddenly fate will take over and carry us off to this lifelong adventure together. Maybe it's the fact that, despite having been in long term relationships before, I've never been in love. And so it could be me thinking that every dog really does have his day, and that because it's taken so long to find love, the love I finally find will be the much sought after thing called true love. So stupid because it's sort of all based on looks, but I don't know, maybe it's possible. There are so many women in the world. You'd think, if I really believed it was possible, I'd be constantly browsing pictures of girls on Facebook or something, instead of expecting to find that my true love happens to live in the same city I do. But I still do it. Less when I'm dating or in a relationship with someone, but even then I steal glimpses. That all sounded so ridiculous until the day I found her. I say "her" because, again, I'm relying on fate and we're all taught that fate is this magical thing that just does everything for you. You're just a passive spectator while fate does all the work as you sit back and watch it all unfold. Well, it's all true. That's exactly how it is. It rocks. She was on a bus. I was on that thing for a full 20 minutes before I noticed her, which, in retrospect, was funny considering she was wearing a neon orange top that was hard to miss. Not that she was one of those attention whores, because she wasn't. She was sitting next to a guy who I can only assume was with her, although I don't think I noticed him take one look at her the entire time I was staring, nor did he even give me a single glance for that matter, which instantly removed any guilt about taking her away from him. It's true love anyway, and nothing can stop it (if it's real and mutual, of course). Once I saw her, I couldn't look away. After she hadn't noticed me for a while, I got up and sat next to her and our eyes met and her body language made it obvious she felt as happy as I was. But once she saw me, my mind was flooded with emotion. Our minds were flooded. We knew each other even though we didn't. Were we lovers in a past life, or was every molecule of our being configured to sort of fit into the other's molecules? Or was it some psychic link? Or had life trained us to connect like this? I still don't know. And I don't care to investigate because I just always had this feeling as though I shouldn't try to explain it. As if other people didn't deserve to find the formula to it because some greater being wanted it that way. Anyway, long story short, we felt the same way about each other. We wolfed down a quick lunch and sat together just hugging and smiling. Then dinnertime came and we took whatever we couldn't eat from a restaurant back home so we could cuddle more. And then night came and we spent it intertwined in an embrace that basically felt like taking the best moment of our life and putting it on pause. We abstained from sex for the first few days, but eventually it became impossible to avoid and all that waiting and taking it slow paid off in spades. I'd never felt so free to try new things, which was a reminder of how special true love could make things. And I don't mean to be explicit, but the intercourse was mind blowing and I'd find myself behind her, almost getting emotional as I felt closer and closer to her with every thrust. We incorporated foods into it eventually, 9 1/2 weeks style, with her licking it off me before going full on into hours of passionate, animalistic love making. I'm not bragging, believe me, it was just so incredible and so new. But more than the sex, we just almost needed to be touching each other. It felt uncomfortable if some part of me wasn't in contact with her and that made it difficult to do a lot of what I was used to, and it was probably a major reason I got fired from my job at the mill, but man, I didn't care one bit. We'd found each other. And suddenly we went from full on participating in life to just watching it happen while we, these two spirits who no longer had any use for our physical bodies, existed in this realm outside of it all. It was what Heaven probably feels like, and because it was far from a traditional and non-true love fueled romance, it felt extra amazing. She was attentive to all my needs in a way I wasn't used to. It was like we lived to be in service of each other, even if some of those tasks bordered on the mundane things usually found in a relationship. If I was having a rough day, she'd comfort me, and vice versa if she needed me to retrieve her golden smile back for her after a not-so-fun day. We were immediate partners in life, scratching those itches that needed to be scratched and never separating, even when going to the bathroom or bathing. One day we went to the park and I carved our initials into a tree in standard romantic fashion, and that tree became a spot we'd go to often to hang out and enjoy each other, the initials a constant reminder of our love. We lived out 1950's movies and did sappy thing that never felt cheap or fake because just a look into each other's eyes was an instant reminder of fate making us move while the world, and everyone in it, stood perfectly still. There was nothing superficial about what we had, either. In fact, I was sure it would be impossible for other men to find her nearly as attractive as I did, which made me feel somehow more in love with her even though I knew there was no chance she'd stray considering fate was our bond. When two beings merge, you stop paying attention. And a little over a year later, an accident took most of the skin off of her body. Hot grease spilled all over her, and she was forever deformed and if it sounds like I don't care, it's because I don't care. I'd care if she cared, but other than some occasional pain, the fact she forever looked deformed didn't bother her in the slightest. It was especially obvious how much she didn't care when we'd go out to public places and get extra affectionate and people would stare because people can be horrible. And even if some people made it blatantly obvious they were disgusted by her and her scarred flesh, she never showed a hint of worry. It just didn't seem to matter to her, because it didn't matter to me and I was all that mattered to her. That's a lot of matter, ironically, while describing a literal loss of matter (from the grease fire). Yeah, I don't care about it so much I use it to joke with her when she seems sad. Judge me all you want. I just yawned. That's how much I care about other people's opinions. Nine years later and we're still together. As usual, she's sitting right here as I type this. And even though she isn't alive to see it, I feel as though she is, not that I care because having even a piece of her with me is enough. Sometimes I wonder how fate allowed her to die because I kind of thought we'd die together, despite the fact that it was obvious by looking at her, and her scarred body, that she wouldn't live nearly as long as I would. But I don't need to hear her voice, or know that she's thinking something. I'm satisfied by something I can't explain that probably doesn't exist in this realm, because most of her is gone now. What's left seems to be enough. I don't know how I'd feel if the rest went away. I'd like to think she's just merged into me spiritually, and she'll never be able to go away, but I'm not doing anything with the piece of her sitting next to me. Nope. Just in case. I couldn't live without that feeling now that I've felt it. Although as I write this, I wonder if she's waiting for me in the afterlife. She could be calling to me in some dimension I can't sense, and I'd never know it. And really, her physical self isn't alive to feel me, so there's a chance she's not comfortable right now. Maybe she's suffering in Heaven without me. Or Hell. Doesn't matter because I'd go to either as long as she was there. Obviously. I think I'll kill myself just to be sure though. That might sound rough if you don't feel what I feel, but believe me, it makes perfect sense. I just hope humans and dogs share the same heaven. Do you think they do?	The best twist, in my mind, is when you lead the reader into a twist, build it up into a crescendo and yet there is no twist in the climax. and that's the biggest modern twist i can think of. I am at work now. Perhaps i will try to write one later on after.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	I feel like a pervert sometimes, but I know I'm not one. I just feel like some people might get that impression because I check out every single female I see. Most of the time I just look for a moment and then go on my way. But I have to at least look. It'll sound stupid but I think I do it because deep down I'm expecting that I'll see a girl who I instantly fall in love with one day. I imagine it as mutual. And maybe I won't even see her first, maybe I'll see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye and then I'll look and suddenly fate will take over and carry us off to this lifelong adventure together. Maybe it's the fact that, despite having been in long term relationships before, I've never been in love. And so it could be me thinking that every dog really does have his day, and that because it's taken so long to find love, the love I finally find will be the much sought after thing called true love. So stupid because it's sort of all based on looks, but I don't know, maybe it's possible. There are so many women in the world. You'd think, if I really believed it was possible, I'd be constantly browsing pictures of girls on Facebook or something, instead of expecting to find that my true love happens to live in the same city I do. But I still do it. Less when I'm dating or in a relationship with someone, but even then I steal glimpses. That all sounded so ridiculous until the day I found her. I say "her" because, again, I'm relying on fate and we're all taught that fate is this magical thing that just does everything for you. You're just a passive spectator while fate does all the work as you sit back and watch it all unfold. Well, it's all true. That's exactly how it is. It rocks. She was on a bus. I was on that thing for a full 20 minutes before I noticed her, which, in retrospect, was funny considering she was wearing a neon orange top that was hard to miss. Not that she was one of those attention whores, because she wasn't. She was sitting next to a guy who I can only assume was with her, although I don't think I noticed him take one look at her the entire time I was staring, nor did he even give me a single glance for that matter, which instantly removed any guilt about taking her away from him. It's true love anyway, and nothing can stop it (if it's real and mutual, of course). Once I saw her, I couldn't look away. After she hadn't noticed me for a while, I got up and sat next to her and our eyes met and her body language made it obvious she felt as happy as I was. But once she saw me, my mind was flooded with emotion. Our minds were flooded. We knew each other even though we didn't. Were we lovers in a past life, or was every molecule of our being configured to sort of fit into the other's molecules? Or was it some psychic link? Or had life trained us to connect like this? I still don't know. And I don't care to investigate because I just always had this feeling as though I shouldn't try to explain it. As if other people didn't deserve to find the formula to it because some greater being wanted it that way. Anyway, long story short, we felt the same way about each other. We wolfed down a quick lunch and sat together just hugging and smiling. Then dinnertime came and we took whatever we couldn't eat from a restaurant back home so we could cuddle more. And then night came and we spent it intertwined in an embrace that basically felt like taking the best moment of our life and putting it on pause. We abstained from sex for the first few days, but eventually it became impossible to avoid and all that waiting and taking it slow paid off in spades. I'd never felt so free to try new things, which was a reminder of how special true love could make things. And I don't mean to be explicit, but the intercourse was mind blowing and I'd find myself behind her, almost getting emotional as I felt closer and closer to her with every thrust. We incorporated foods into it eventually, 9 1/2 weeks style, with her licking it off me before going full on into hours of passionate, animalistic love making. I'm not bragging, believe me, it was just so incredible and so new. But more than the sex, we just almost needed to be touching each other. It felt uncomfortable if some part of me wasn't in contact with her and that made it difficult to do a lot of what I was used to, and it was probably a major reason I got fired from my job at the mill, but man, I didn't care one bit. We'd found each other. And suddenly we went from full on participating in life to just watching it happen while we, these two spirits who no longer had any use for our physical bodies, existed in this realm outside of it all. It was what Heaven probably feels like, and because it was far from a traditional and non-true love fueled romance, it felt extra amazing. She was attentive to all my needs in a way I wasn't used to. It was like we lived to be in service of each other, even if some of those tasks bordered on the mundane things usually found in a relationship. If I was having a rough day, she'd comfort me, and vice versa if she needed me to retrieve her golden smile back for her after a not-so-fun day. We were immediate partners in life, scratching those itches that needed to be scratched and never separating, even when going to the bathroom or bathing. One day we went to the park and I carved our initials into a tree in standard romantic fashion, and that tree became a spot we'd go to often to hang out and enjoy each other, the initials a constant reminder of our love. We lived out 1950's movies and did sappy thing that never felt cheap or fake because just a look into each other's eyes was an instant reminder of fate making us move while the world, and everyone in it, stood perfectly still. There was nothing superficial about what we had, either. In fact, I was sure it would be impossible for other men to find her nearly as attractive as I did, which made me feel somehow more in love with her even though I knew there was no chance she'd stray considering fate was our bond. When two beings merge, you stop paying attention. And a little over a year later, an accident took most of the skin off of her body. Hot grease spilled all over her, and she was forever deformed and if it sounds like I don't care, it's because I don't care. I'd care if she cared, but other than some occasional pain, the fact she forever looked deformed didn't bother her in the slightest. It was especially obvious how much she didn't care when we'd go out to public places and get extra affectionate and people would stare because people can be horrible. And even if some people made it blatantly obvious they were disgusted by her and her scarred flesh, she never showed a hint of worry. It just didn't seem to matter to her, because it didn't matter to me and I was all that mattered to her. That's a lot of matter, ironically, while describing a literal loss of matter (from the grease fire). Yeah, I don't care about it so much I use it to joke with her when she seems sad. Judge me all you want. I just yawned. That's how much I care about other people's opinions. Nine years later and we're still together. As usual, she's sitting right here as I type this. And even though she isn't alive to see it, I feel as though she is, not that I care because having even a piece of her with me is enough. Sometimes I wonder how fate allowed her to die because I kind of thought we'd die together, despite the fact that it was obvious by looking at her, and her scarred body, that she wouldn't live nearly as long as I would. But I don't need to hear her voice, or know that she's thinking something. I'm satisfied by something I can't explain that probably doesn't exist in this realm, because most of her is gone now. What's left seems to be enough. I don't know how I'd feel if the rest went away. I'd like to think she's just merged into me spiritually, and she'll never be able to go away, but I'm not doing anything with the piece of her sitting next to me. Nope. Just in case. I couldn't live without that feeling now that I've felt it. Although as I write this, I wonder if she's waiting for me in the afterlife. She could be calling to me in some dimension I can't sense, and I'd never know it. And really, her physical self isn't alive to feel me, so there's a chance she's not comfortable right now. Maybe she's suffering in Heaven without me. Or Hell. Doesn't matter because I'd go to either as long as she was there. Obviously. I think I'll kill myself just to be sure though. That might sound rough if you don't feel what I feel, but believe me, it makes perfect sense. I just hope humans and dogs share the same heaven. Do you think they do?	There is a well-known story of a creature that lives behind the veil of leaves and woods near Berlan. It was called Heme, after the horrific howl the beast would make all throughout the evening as it swam among the melted shadows of trees. It was a miserable creature, whom the town had tolerated. One day it seemed it was finally killed; it lived; it died; its whole life story told only through its crumpled form. Bound in moss, bare and naked, the entirety of its life was abridged by the wretched state of its body, it was its own gravestone. His body read, “Here lies whatever it is, it did whatever it had, and did not the stuff it didn’t. We couldn’t care less.” Suggested by its battered skin, it had passed through a landscape of turmoil, unfamiliar to the townsfolk of Berlan. They had known it to be harmless, though it would sometimes ride the mists and darkness into town to relieve a farmer of a goat or two. Its existence was announced only by the calls of “HEMEE HEMEEE HEEEMEE,” unsurprisingly its death was marked instead by the absence of such intrusions. Now it lay in grotesque fashion at the edge of town. The people exhaustively discussed as to the method of disposal, of course their knack for exhaustion ran concurrently with the height of the now setting sun. Deciding to quickly remove it, they placed the beast in the damp embrace of a maple deep in the woods, perhaps the only accepting gesture this creature had ever experienced. Two men now emerged from the wood. One had a little habit of nervously walking with a tilted gait. The second aware of such dysfunctions in his companion, slid helplessly along. The night had already crept across the sky and slowly sipped the light from its corners. This darkness touched upon the two men and in their state of nervousness they hurried themselves along faster. The carriers were always nervous because this creature never seemed to stay dead. And each night it would awaken again. Just as the two saw the wet brown contours of stables and houses in the mist, they heard its cries ring out again. “HELP MEEEEE, HELPPPP MEEEEEE” “Madmen never sleep too long.” The first had a propensity to say too much. “A shame, it is all that immortal can hope for.” The second to lack a semblance of concern.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	I think the worst part of insomnia has nothing to do with the lack of sleep but everything to do with the obsessive hunger for everything that is wrong. It's 1:00 AM, and I desire cupcakes filled with hot fudge and topped with french fries. It's 2:00AM, and I desire a lap dance from a Russian mail order with a penis that ends in a deep self reflection of my financial situation. It's 3:00 AM, and I desire to get in a car and drive as far east as the tank will go, forget about my life and job here and become a nomad. What's stopping me, I don't really know. I do not just desire these things though, I crave them. I toss and turn and ache for them with spiders crawling underneath my skin begging me to get up and get them. It's 4:00 AM, and I want to call Anna Matthews from high school and profess my everlasting desire to hug her just once. No one has ever loved me and I just know she would. It's 4:30 AM and I'm staring at the dark wall whispering recitals of unrequited love. And I still want those french fries. It's 5:00AM and I want not a blink of sleep but have every desire to run naked and free and wild until someone comes to get me. Insomnia is no hell for the creative thinkers. It's an open box of crayons and an endless supply of paper. It's 6:00 AM and I cease to desire anything but to turn off the terribly mocking blip-blip-bleep. It's 7:00 AM, visiting hours, and all I wish is to speak. To tell them all, their worst fears are true, a coma is but the opposite of never ending sleep.	There is a well-known story of a creature that lives behind the veil of leaves and woods near Berlan. It was called Heme, after the horrific howl the beast would make all throughout the evening as it swam among the melted shadows of trees. It was a miserable creature, whom the town had tolerated. One day it seemed it was finally killed; it lived; it died; its whole life story told only through its crumpled form. Bound in moss, bare and naked, the entirety of its life was abridged by the wretched state of its body, it was its own gravestone. His body read, “Here lies whatever it is, it did whatever it had, and did not the stuff it didn’t. We couldn’t care less.” Suggested by its battered skin, it had passed through a landscape of turmoil, unfamiliar to the townsfolk of Berlan. They had known it to be harmless, though it would sometimes ride the mists and darkness into town to relieve a farmer of a goat or two. Its existence was announced only by the calls of “HEMEE HEMEEE HEEEMEE,” unsurprisingly its death was marked instead by the absence of such intrusions. Now it lay in grotesque fashion at the edge of town. The people exhaustively discussed as to the method of disposal, of course their knack for exhaustion ran concurrently with the height of the now setting sun. Deciding to quickly remove it, they placed the beast in the damp embrace of a maple deep in the woods, perhaps the only accepting gesture this creature had ever experienced. Two men now emerged from the wood. One had a little habit of nervously walking with a tilted gait. The second aware of such dysfunctions in his companion, slid helplessly along. The night had already crept across the sky and slowly sipped the light from its corners. This darkness touched upon the two men and in their state of nervousness they hurried themselves along faster. The carriers were always nervous because this creature never seemed to stay dead. And each night it would awaken again. Just as the two saw the wet brown contours of stables and houses in the mist, they heard its cries ring out again. “HELP MEEEEE, HELPPPP MEEEEEE” “Madmen never sleep too long.” The first had a propensity to say too much. “A shame, it is all that immortal can hope for.” The second to lack a semblance of concern.
Write a story about anything really. The important part is that the last sentence of the entry is a twist that turns the whole thing on its head.	[WP] Make a Shyamalan twist, but better.	I feel like a pervert sometimes, but I know I'm not one. I just feel like some people might get that impression because I check out every single female I see. Most of the time I just look for a moment and then go on my way. But I have to at least look. It'll sound stupid but I think I do it because deep down I'm expecting that I'll see a girl who I instantly fall in love with one day. I imagine it as mutual. And maybe I won't even see her first, maybe I'll see her staring at me out of the corner of my eye and then I'll look and suddenly fate will take over and carry us off to this lifelong adventure together. Maybe it's the fact that, despite having been in long term relationships before, I've never been in love. And so it could be me thinking that every dog really does have his day, and that because it's taken so long to find love, the love I finally find will be the much sought after thing called true love. So stupid because it's sort of all based on looks, but I don't know, maybe it's possible. There are so many women in the world. You'd think, if I really believed it was possible, I'd be constantly browsing pictures of girls on Facebook or something, instead of expecting to find that my true love happens to live in the same city I do. But I still do it. Less when I'm dating or in a relationship with someone, but even then I steal glimpses. That all sounded so ridiculous until the day I found her. I say "her" because, again, I'm relying on fate and we're all taught that fate is this magical thing that just does everything for you. You're just a passive spectator while fate does all the work as you sit back and watch it all unfold. Well, it's all true. That's exactly how it is. It rocks. She was on a bus. I was on that thing for a full 20 minutes before I noticed her, which, in retrospect, was funny considering she was wearing a neon orange top that was hard to miss. Not that she was one of those attention whores, because she wasn't. She was sitting next to a guy who I can only assume was with her, although I don't think I noticed him take one look at her the entire time I was staring, nor did he even give me a single glance for that matter, which instantly removed any guilt about taking her away from him. It's true love anyway, and nothing can stop it (if it's real and mutual, of course). Once I saw her, I couldn't look away. After she hadn't noticed me for a while, I got up and sat next to her and our eyes met and her body language made it obvious she felt as happy as I was. But once she saw me, my mind was flooded with emotion. Our minds were flooded. We knew each other even though we didn't. Were we lovers in a past life, or was every molecule of our being configured to sort of fit into the other's molecules? Or was it some psychic link? Or had life trained us to connect like this? I still don't know. And I don't care to investigate because I just always had this feeling as though I shouldn't try to explain it. As if other people didn't deserve to find the formula to it because some greater being wanted it that way. Anyway, long story short, we felt the same way about each other. We wolfed down a quick lunch and sat together just hugging and smiling. Then dinnertime came and we took whatever we couldn't eat from a restaurant back home so we could cuddle more. And then night came and we spent it intertwined in an embrace that basically felt like taking the best moment of our life and putting it on pause. We abstained from sex for the first few days, but eventually it became impossible to avoid and all that waiting and taking it slow paid off in spades. I'd never felt so free to try new things, which was a reminder of how special true love could make things. And I don't mean to be explicit, but the intercourse was mind blowing and I'd find myself behind her, almost getting emotional as I felt closer and closer to her with every thrust. We incorporated foods into it eventually, 9 1/2 weeks style, with her licking it off me before going full on into hours of passionate, animalistic love making. I'm not bragging, believe me, it was just so incredible and so new. But more than the sex, we just almost needed to be touching each other. It felt uncomfortable if some part of me wasn't in contact with her and that made it difficult to do a lot of what I was used to, and it was probably a major reason I got fired from my job at the mill, but man, I didn't care one bit. We'd found each other. And suddenly we went from full on participating in life to just watching it happen while we, these two spirits who no longer had any use for our physical bodies, existed in this realm outside of it all. It was what Heaven probably feels like, and because it was far from a traditional and non-true love fueled romance, it felt extra amazing. She was attentive to all my needs in a way I wasn't used to. It was like we lived to be in service of each other, even if some of those tasks bordered on the mundane things usually found in a relationship. If I was having a rough day, she'd comfort me, and vice versa if she needed me to retrieve her golden smile back for her after a not-so-fun day. We were immediate partners in life, scratching those itches that needed to be scratched and never separating, even when going to the bathroom or bathing. One day we went to the park and I carved our initials into a tree in standard romantic fashion, and that tree became a spot we'd go to often to hang out and enjoy each other, the initials a constant reminder of our love. We lived out 1950's movies and did sappy thing that never felt cheap or fake because just a look into each other's eyes was an instant reminder of fate making us move while the world, and everyone in it, stood perfectly still. There was nothing superficial about what we had, either. In fact, I was sure it would be impossible for other men to find her nearly as attractive as I did, which made me feel somehow more in love with her even though I knew there was no chance she'd stray considering fate was our bond. When two beings merge, you stop paying attention. And a little over a year later, an accident took most of the skin off of her body. Hot grease spilled all over her, and she was forever deformed and if it sounds like I don't care, it's because I don't care. I'd care if she cared, but other than some occasional pain, the fact she forever looked deformed didn't bother her in the slightest. It was especially obvious how much she didn't care when we'd go out to public places and get extra affectionate and people would stare because people can be horrible. And even if some people made it blatantly obvious they were disgusted by her and her scarred flesh, she never showed a hint of worry. It just didn't seem to matter to her, because it didn't matter to me and I was all that mattered to her. That's a lot of matter, ironically, while describing a literal loss of matter (from the grease fire). Yeah, I don't care about it so much I use it to joke with her when she seems sad. Judge me all you want. I just yawned. That's how much I care about other people's opinions. Nine years later and we're still together. As usual, she's sitting right here as I type this. And even though she isn't alive to see it, I feel as though she is, not that I care because having even a piece of her with me is enough. Sometimes I wonder how fate allowed her to die because I kind of thought we'd die together, despite the fact that it was obvious by looking at her, and her scarred body, that she wouldn't live nearly as long as I would. But I don't need to hear her voice, or know that she's thinking something. I'm satisfied by something I can't explain that probably doesn't exist in this realm, because most of her is gone now. What's left seems to be enough. I don't know how I'd feel if the rest went away. I'd like to think she's just merged into me spiritually, and she'll never be able to go away, but I'm not doing anything with the piece of her sitting next to me. Nope. Just in case. I couldn't live without that feeling now that I've felt it. Although as I write this, I wonder if she's waiting for me in the afterlife. She could be calling to me in some dimension I can't sense, and I'd never know it. And really, her physical self isn't alive to feel me, so there's a chance she's not comfortable right now. Maybe she's suffering in Heaven without me. Or Hell. Doesn't matter because I'd go to either as long as she was there. Obviously. I think I'll kill myself just to be sure though. That might sound rough if you don't feel what I feel, but believe me, it makes perfect sense. I just hope humans and dogs share the same heaven. Do you think they do?	When I was in school, someone in my English class wrote a whole story about what seemed to be an unruly youth causing havoc in a council estate and generally sleuthing about and being shady. In the end, it turns out he was writing about a fox.
Include please, the words "It's our struggle that defines us." 250 words. No more, no less. Create a moment of epiphany in which your character realizes a basic truth about how we handle adversity and its effect on how we are perceived by our peers. Throw a seemingly hopeless and impossible task in their path. A life hangs in the balance! How do they handle it? How do they overcome it? Who is there to witness it? Enjoy! One month of Reddit Gold to the entry I like the best!	[FF] Saving A Life (250 words and 24 hours + GOLD)	We walked all of the way to the store to find out it was closed. It was a warm and comfortable Saturday, and we liked to walk to the store to buy treats and socialize. I would have been more upset if I had any emotions at the time that were as sharp or well defined. All I really knew were “good” and “bad”. Not because I was lacking any of the feelings you’d imagine a dog to have, but because life was just so easy then. Fetching in the park, lying in the sun. Eating all manner of things sweet and stinky and good and smelling things that you would die to have smelled. As we left the store I remember such a smell taking me away for a brief moment, only to be brought back by the screeching of the tires and the screaming of my best friend Dave. Then it was blank. For a moment I thought it was all over until I heard the Laughter. The laughter of a man so wicked it sprang me from eternity and brought me back to present. I leapt up from where I lie, only to see a man leaning over Dave, wearing a pink Doctors Jacket. Laughing as blood poured out of him. I’ve heard that it’s our struggle that defines us, but what defined me as a “bad Dog” was the rage that flooded my being as I bit the man. Over and Over for all to see.	Damnable, sincere, lust driven, intimate, faithful love! It ruined me! Brought me to my knee compacted my arteries like a toxic hive, don't you see! Tricking my oblivious arrogant mind to the point beyond redemption, it is what caused my shame, mental incarceration without pension. It was not the catalyst of madness, it was MY MADNESS! My insanity, my phobia, a disease without cure, the reason we cheated death, the reason my fury is pure. It wrote my success, fortune, and worst, caped my potential. I curse the concept and those despicable flesh-bags who drilled its false sense of security into my head! They were pestilence that fed off my strife, and fled when I beckoned assistance. They looked upon me with with pity, and I them with concealed malice. It is our struggles that define us, but that sinful virtue drives this sentimental madman to lose face and tirade before you, at this vulnerable moment! I've passively served and slaughtered, yet what do I have to show? A speech driven to where angels and devils weep over this pathetic mortal's reality! Love. LOVE. LOVE! Love has driven us from oblivion's sweet merciful embrace! Love has given me this mindset cursed with experience, what fueled my source of pride! Love is how I endured those cretins I've associated with. Love is how I stumbled upon your character, fell for it, relished in it, earned the favor of it. Love is the reason I still tolerate you, dear sweet ''LOVABLE'' wife!
Include please, the words "It's our struggle that defines us." 250 words. No more, no less. Create a moment of epiphany in which your character realizes a basic truth about how we handle adversity and its effect on how we are perceived by our peers. Throw a seemingly hopeless and impossible task in their path. A life hangs in the balance! How do they handle it? How do they overcome it? Who is there to witness it? Enjoy! One month of Reddit Gold to the entry I like the best!	[FF] Saving A Life (250 words and 24 hours + GOLD)	She wasn't waking up. It was simple: I knew I could have forced my hands over her chest and thrust down. I could have cracked her ribs and forced the wind back into her lungs. I could have prayed for the blood that slept along the floor of her heart to move again, to sprint along those veins that stretched like roadmaps across her arms: Those veins that carried her poison across her body like ten thousand sleeping soldiers armed to the teeth with tranquility. But I knew: There was no use struggling anymore. When she lived, her struggle defined us. I'd spent a decade pulling her out of the earth, waiting for the sun to burn life back into her the way I remembered when we were younger. That struggle defined me: The desperation that said, “The next recovery will take. The next one will be the one. Hold on Jim, you’ve got the strength, damn it, she’s worth it! She’s worth it!” And she was. Oh God, we were beautiful. When she woke up and the shakes hadn’t hit yet, and she placed her hand in my palm like the purest prayer on Earth, I knew she was worth it. But she never woke up... And the most perfect prayers wouldn’t bring her back in. Now, I don’t struggle. I visit her grave every year, and I give her back that perfect prayer, the only way I’ve got left: I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.	Damnable, sincere, lust driven, intimate, faithful love! It ruined me! Brought me to my knee compacted my arteries like a toxic hive, don't you see! Tricking my oblivious arrogant mind to the point beyond redemption, it is what caused my shame, mental incarceration without pension. It was not the catalyst of madness, it was MY MADNESS! My insanity, my phobia, a disease without cure, the reason we cheated death, the reason my fury is pure. It wrote my success, fortune, and worst, caped my potential. I curse the concept and those despicable flesh-bags who drilled its false sense of security into my head! They were pestilence that fed off my strife, and fled when I beckoned assistance. They looked upon me with with pity, and I them with concealed malice. It is our struggles that define us, but that sinful virtue drives this sentimental madman to lose face and tirade before you, at this vulnerable moment! I've passively served and slaughtered, yet what do I have to show? A speech driven to where angels and devils weep over this pathetic mortal's reality! Love. LOVE. LOVE! Love has driven us from oblivion's sweet merciful embrace! Love has given me this mindset cursed with experience, what fueled my source of pride! Love is how I endured those cretins I've associated with. Love is how I stumbled upon your character, fell for it, relished in it, earned the favor of it. Love is the reason I still tolerate you, dear sweet ''LOVABLE'' wife!
Include please, the words "It's our struggle that defines us." 250 words. No more, no less. Create a moment of epiphany in which your character realizes a basic truth about how we handle adversity and its effect on how we are perceived by our peers. Throw a seemingly hopeless and impossible task in their path. A life hangs in the balance! How do they handle it? How do they overcome it? Who is there to witness it? Enjoy! One month of Reddit Gold to the entry I like the best!	[FF] Saving A Life (250 words and 24 hours + GOLD)	I'm not going to cry about my life. I would've an hour ago but not now. There's nothing to cry for after all. My life was difficult, yeah, and I succeeded. I did good, but only out of reluctance to think why I was doing it. Sure, it's our struggles that define us regardless of what we think, but I've never really had to struggle for anything; I've only ever merely abided. But If had devoted myself fully to glory what would I have had? All my life I've swam in sea of bitter disillusionment: crumbling hopes, broken promises, and shattered dreams. I've seen the elderly sipping their last breaths in open caskets and all the movement in the world effected just to stand still. No great leaders, no great movements, no great wars. Just anonymity and death. I suppose that's why I stopped her from jumping, why I grabbed her hand when it was all she could do to let go. Maybe that's why, when she tried to stop me with her kitchen knife, I let her stab me in the gut just to hold her closer. Because deep down I knew we would have amounted to the same thing; my death would've just taken longer. At least this way one of us has a chance to survive and make something out of themself. Maybe I've only delayed her death, and she'll finish later. I can wonder about it, but can't change it. Sometimes you can only trust people.	Damnable, sincere, lust driven, intimate, faithful love! It ruined me! Brought me to my knee compacted my arteries like a toxic hive, don't you see! Tricking my oblivious arrogant mind to the point beyond redemption, it is what caused my shame, mental incarceration without pension. It was not the catalyst of madness, it was MY MADNESS! My insanity, my phobia, a disease without cure, the reason we cheated death, the reason my fury is pure. It wrote my success, fortune, and worst, caped my potential. I curse the concept and those despicable flesh-bags who drilled its false sense of security into my head! They were pestilence that fed off my strife, and fled when I beckoned assistance. They looked upon me with with pity, and I them with concealed malice. It is our struggles that define us, but that sinful virtue drives this sentimental madman to lose face and tirade before you, at this vulnerable moment! I've passively served and slaughtered, yet what do I have to show? A speech driven to where angels and devils weep over this pathetic mortal's reality! Love. LOVE. LOVE! Love has driven us from oblivion's sweet merciful embrace! Love has given me this mindset cursed with experience, what fueled my source of pride! Love is how I endured those cretins I've associated with. Love is how I stumbled upon your character, fell for it, relished in it, earned the favor of it. Love is the reason I still tolerate you, dear sweet ''LOVABLE'' wife!
Include please, the words "It's our struggle that defines us." 250 words. No more, no less. Create a moment of epiphany in which your character realizes a basic truth about how we handle adversity and its effect on how we are perceived by our peers. Throw a seemingly hopeless and impossible task in their path. A life hangs in the balance! How do they handle it? How do they overcome it? Who is there to witness it? Enjoy! One month of Reddit Gold to the entry I like the best!	[FF] Saving A Life (250 words and 24 hours + GOLD)	I prayed for the first time in 10 years today. I begged that my wife would be spared the slow and horrible death that seems inevitable for us all. The "leader" of our soon to be deceased group said that rescue would be arriving soon. I wonder if he even believes the dogma that he spews. I know nobody else does. We're all falling off the cliff now. All that's left to do is wait until we hit the ground. I recently saw a documentary about pirates that got stranded on a deserted island. They ran out of food and resorted to cannibalism in order to survive. Now, I never understood that course of action. You're stranded with no food, no water, and no hope, so you eat one of your own to continue a lost cause? To become sub-human in your final moments? My father taught me that it's our struggle than defines us -- I will NOT be defined that way. There's only one decent thing left to do. I will struggle but God is not here to answer my prayers. I do not blame Him for being absent for I do not deserve His attention. I'll do it while she's sleeping. No pain, just a gentle passing. The other doomed souls will object I'm sure, but in my heart, I know it is right. Let me not be defined by mistakes in life, but by my grace in death.	Damnable, sincere, lust driven, intimate, faithful love! It ruined me! Brought me to my knee compacted my arteries like a toxic hive, don't you see! Tricking my oblivious arrogant mind to the point beyond redemption, it is what caused my shame, mental incarceration without pension. It was not the catalyst of madness, it was MY MADNESS! My insanity, my phobia, a disease without cure, the reason we cheated death, the reason my fury is pure. It wrote my success, fortune, and worst, caped my potential. I curse the concept and those despicable flesh-bags who drilled its false sense of security into my head! They were pestilence that fed off my strife, and fled when I beckoned assistance. They looked upon me with with pity, and I them with concealed malice. It is our struggles that define us, but that sinful virtue drives this sentimental madman to lose face and tirade before you, at this vulnerable moment! I've passively served and slaughtered, yet what do I have to show? A speech driven to where angels and devils weep over this pathetic mortal's reality! Love. LOVE. LOVE! Love has driven us from oblivion's sweet merciful embrace! Love has given me this mindset cursed with experience, what fueled my source of pride! Love is how I endured those cretins I've associated with. Love is how I stumbled upon your character, fell for it, relished in it, earned the favor of it. Love is the reason I still tolerate you, dear sweet ''LOVABLE'' wife!
Include please, the words "It's our struggle that defines us." 250 words. No more, no less. Create a moment of epiphany in which your character realizes a basic truth about how we handle adversity and its effect on how we are perceived by our peers. Throw a seemingly hopeless and impossible task in their path. A life hangs in the balance! How do they handle it? How do they overcome it? Who is there to witness it? Enjoy! One month of Reddit Gold to the entry I like the best!	[FF] Saving A Life (250 words and 24 hours + GOLD)	I want to thank everyone who contributed! You all have some great stories here. My favorite was the entry from Rabid_Mouse who wins a month of reddit gold! Stay tuned to /r/writingprompts for the next GOLD contest, coming soon!	Damnable, sincere, lust driven, intimate, faithful love! It ruined me! Brought me to my knee compacted my arteries like a toxic hive, don't you see! Tricking my oblivious arrogant mind to the point beyond redemption, it is what caused my shame, mental incarceration without pension. It was not the catalyst of madness, it was MY MADNESS! My insanity, my phobia, a disease without cure, the reason we cheated death, the reason my fury is pure. It wrote my success, fortune, and worst, caped my potential. I curse the concept and those despicable flesh-bags who drilled its false sense of security into my head! They were pestilence that fed off my strife, and fled when I beckoned assistance. They looked upon me with with pity, and I them with concealed malice. It is our struggles that define us, but that sinful virtue drives this sentimental madman to lose face and tirade before you, at this vulnerable moment! I've passively served and slaughtered, yet what do I have to show? A speech driven to where angels and devils weep over this pathetic mortal's reality! Love. LOVE. LOVE! Love has driven us from oblivion's sweet merciful embrace! Love has given me this mindset cursed with experience, what fueled my source of pride! Love is how I endured those cretins I've associated with. Love is how I stumbled upon your character, fell for it, relished in it, earned the favor of it. Love is the reason I still tolerate you, dear sweet ''LOVABLE'' wife!

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