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[WP] Whenever you flip a coin, it lands on its side, Rock-Paper-Scissors always ends in a draw, and when you enter the lottery you always win your money back but not a dime more. You're not lucky, you're not unlucky, you're... something else.
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I am, frankly, a statistical wonder. Luck, fortune, probability; whatever you want to call it, the universe contorts itself into a pretzel to ensure that in games of chance I never win... but also never lose. Some people are blessed with good luck. Others are cursed with misfortune.
I would say luck doesn't effect me, but strictly that's not true. If I was truly without luck one way or the other, I'd be at the mercy of random chance. Instead, I'm caught in a probabilistic Limbo, where luck itself keeps me neutral.
Which is why, even as sixth man in a game of Russian roulette, I'm not worried. 5 shots down. The other players looking at me with expressions ranging from pity to predatory glee. They know now, as I did before the game began, the bullet is in my chamber.
I pull the trigger and smile as I hear the familiar sound of the gun jamming.
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Robbie‘s hair was rain-slick and wind tussled by the time he’d walked from his apartment to the Starlight Fair. He’d been working there two weeks and still hadn’t adjusted to the night-shifts. What kind of fair operated from 11pm to 5am anyway? Not a good one, he was certain.
“You’re late,” said Calvin, as he passed his boss at the ticket booth.
”Miracle I’m here at all.”
“Don’t give me that shit or you won’t be for long,” Calvin replied. He was a big man with a breathless face, and always wore a smile no matter what he said. Along with his orange raincoat, his paunch gave him a look something like a pumpkin.
”We shouldn’t be open tonight,” said Robbie. “There’s a goddamn storm coming.“ He swept a hand over his flattened hair spraying water to the ground. “In fact, I’d say it’s already here.”
”This ain’t a storm.” Calvin looked up to the black sky. “What do you know of storms. You’re what, eighteen? Nah, this ain’t a storm. Now get to the Ferris wheel — there’s already a queue.”
”What idiots are coming to a night-fair in the pouring rain? Jesus.”
Calvin’s smile remained but his voice dipped an octave. ”Our customers is who. Be respectful to them. I‘m seroius.”
Robbie let out a sigh as he walked on. He was dog-tired and the weather wasn’t helping his mood. But he should watch his tongue. He needed the job. He’d split up with his girlfriend a month ago, left her place and had no family to fall back on. Now he was paying for a dingy one-bed basement that stank of must and mold, paid for with money he didn’t yet have. Lose this job and he’d be sleeping on the benches through winter.
The Ferris wheel shone in the night sky, each of its gondolas spilling out dim blue light. It was the dumbest ride in the dumbest fair Robbie had ever been in. What kind of view do you get in the pitch black? Well, he knew, because he’d ridden it just once. You got a view of precicsely nothing. A few lights down below, kids with neon-lit flags or facepaint, and maybe on a good night — a supremely rare night — you got a better view of, and got a little closer to, the stars.
“Sorry. Excuse me. Sorry.” Robbie pushed his way through the queue already gathered at the wheel’s base.
“You’re late opening,” said a woman shrilly.
”Yeah. So I’ve been told. But I’m here now.”
Robbie slipped into the cramped booth and flicked on the light then a couple more switches. The blue glow of the gondolas turned to a moonshine-white as the whole thing began rotating. He stepped back out and began loading the passengers inside.
The one time he’d ridden it had been with Jenny. She thought it was romantic, paused up there in the heavens was like making love, she’d said. He’d thought it was more like the awkward bit afterwards.
They’d broken up on mutual agreement. Neither them was happy — they were like two jigsaw pieces that didn’t quite fit but had been together for a time anyways until anyone finally noticed the problem.
Everything in Robbie’s life was like that: death by mutual agreement. He was always right in the middle. His last boss had fired him at the same time he’d quit. His grades had always been straight down the line. Hell, if he played rock scissors paper it’d nearly always end in a draw.
He helped a woman and her little girl into a gondola, closed it, rattled the door to be sure the latch had caught. The wind had picked up and the gondolas rocked like a baby in a tree from a nursery rhyme he half-remembered. How did that end? Couldn’t remember that either.
How could someone like him — cursed to be average, to be stuck in the middle — ever do anything special with his life? Or anything that mattered, for that matter.
Robbie returned to the booth and flicked another switch. The wheel rotated properly now, pausing occasionally to let some lucky visitor catch a view of the sprawling great dark nothing below.
He flicked a picture of him and Jenny on his phone, just after they’d met. They’d fit so perfectly to start with. They’d met free-climbing, neither liking the attachment of rope, neither needing or wanting the security that came from such overbearing support. They’d fit so god-damned perfect. Or it had seemed it that way to him. How the hell had it ended in mutual destruction? Fact was, she was his first love and—
The rickety screech of metal came a second before the screams.
”*Shit.*” Robbie ran into rain. The wind whipped the droplets against his face, they stung like insects. He squinted; the gondolas had gone blue again — backup lights — but none of them were moving. At least, not rotating like they should have been, just rocking back and forth in the wind, helpless like apples on a tree. Then he saw it; the snapped support cable that linked one gondola to the center of the wheel lying on the ground a few meters north. “Shit shit shit.”
People were gathering around him, visitors, mystics — anyone from the nearby attractions, heads craned up at the accident waiting to happen.
The lone gondola, barely secured now, looked more like the pirate ship from how it rocked. A woman’s face peeked over the edge of the plastic barrier, lit up electric blue.
He recognised her. It was the woman with the little girl.
The creaking of metal intensified. Something else was going to give soon. Shit.
”Robbie, what the hell happened?” said Calvin, his cheeks a shade redder than usual, fright in his eyes, and his smile left behind at admissions. If something bad happened here — something fatal — they’d all be out of jobs. “Robbie—“
But already Robbie was climbing, spidering up the cold sleek metal, pulling himself up beam after beam, treading on the next for support. Pictured himself on plastic rocks, hands chalked up dry.
”Get the hell down!” said Calvin. “Get the hell—“
But then all Robbie could hear was howl of wind and rain and the hush of crowd dropping further and further below him.
What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t this person. He was the person on the ground, watching. He was too average to be doing this.
His boot slipped, his other foot followed. For a moment, he dangled from a beam with just his damp hands. Stupidly, he looked down; the darkness was pierced by the flash of cameras and the steady glow of phones recording.
“Christ,” he said, before regaining his footing and continuing.
He figured he had a 50/50 chance of making this. Of getting up there to the girl, of getting down with her on his back.
He figured that was better than the chance they had otherwise.
”Hand me the girl, okay? I’m going to take her down,” he said when he reached the gondola, and the sobbing woman didn’t complain. She handed her precious child over the barrier and into his arms.
The storm beat against him. “Hold your hands tight around my neck, k?”
The little girl nodded, didn’t say a word, didn’t squeal. Her arms dug into the flesh of his neck like a seatbelt.
The wind battered the gondola like a fist, dragged at Robbie, wanted to pull him down.
If they fell, he’d be sure to fall on his stomach. Might break enough of the fall for her to be oaky. And every step down gave more credence to this idea.
He wondered, sickly, as he stepped like a spider down the metal beams, what would happen if this ended in a draw like everything else in his life seemed to?
He’d live, the girl would live, but Robbie would end up in a coma. That seemed right. Par for the course, as they said.
He stepped, lowered himself.
Descended bit by bit.
Slipped on sleek wet metal.
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Darius_Blake
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Rupertfroggington
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2023-04-13 15:36:57
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2023-04-13 14:40:50
| 194 | 72 |
jg3touy
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jg3l1vy
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12klmt6
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12klmt6
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[WP] "I just think it's hilarious how you managed to convince yourself that you're somehow... allowed to be a person? Because you're not. You were born and raised to be a weapon, and that's all you are meant to be. You don't get to change, sweetheart. That's not how human weapons work."
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"You're not a person."
The creature looked at the doctor - its creator - with a mixture of feelings. Chiefly among them rage and despair.
"I wish to be," it responded.
The doctor furrowed his eyebrows. "Listen to me, and listen well," he growled, "I don't know which orderly to disappear - probably all of them - but let me make it crystal clear that no matter what you've been told by someone, you are a weapon. An *expensive* one. We made you in a *tube*."
"But I..."
The doctor slammed his fist against the table. "There is no 'I'," he yelled. "No name. No life. You do what we tell you to do. Is. That. Clear?"
The creature tilted its head with an almost confused look. It pondered its options and did something thus far unprecedented.
He extended his hands and grabbed the doctor by the neck.
The spectacled man didn't even have time to yelp as he heard his own neck snap.
Alarms blared as the newly formed man stood up, bullets bouncing off of its impenetrable body, and walked towards the exit, blood and screams the only thing left in its wake.
He *would* become a person.
Just not a good one.
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“You don’t get to decide to have a heart now, sweetheart. That isn’t how this program works. You were born and raised to be a weapon. There isn’t even a full brain in your thick skull anymore. All that’s left is a machine. You’re nothing but a gun. Now stop jamming and fire.” Lieutenant Gabby Ria ordered, pointing at the child across from her.
While she shrieked out her orders, Era froze, unable to pull the trigger. The lieutenant was right; they were only a weapon. Yet memories were flooding into its mind, drowning out that robotic side that often took centre stage. Memories of a specific human it couldn’t recognise, getting overwhelmed by their past.
Across from the pair, the girl, Jessica, remained curled behind a desk, gripping a stuffed bear. The paw of the bear once holding a tiny red balloon, one that had been torn off days ago. Even without the scraps she wore, she was a miserable sight. Tired eyes, constant shaking and a murmuring for help that only Era’s hyper-detailed hearing could pick up. “Please, leave me alone.” She begged.
Era could never point its gun at a superior officer, so instead, it turned its face towards her, neck twisting eighty degrees to find her. They designed Era models to be basic, stripping them of all their unique features and traits. Giving them the same blank blue eyes, light brown hair, and voice chips. This making it harder for a lieutenant or any officer to see them as anything other than a disposable machine.
“Why? Why can I think? I don’t like this? I don’t like thinking. Everything hurts, I’m scared. It’s dark in here. Gabby. You told me I wouldn’t hurt. Why am I hurting?” The tone remained robotic, with the blank face unable to express the sensations pulsing through its circuits.
Gabby retrieved her own pistol, gazing away from Era, turning her attention to the laboratory they stood in. They had bombed the place to hell. No, that didn’t even do it justice. They had bombed the place to purgatory, leaving nothing but scorched land, a few desks and the remnants of glass and tubes. If one passed through this place, they would assume it had been an underground dumping facility, not the proud anti Era factory they had boasted about while it was still active.
“You can’t feel pain, and you can’t think. There shouldn’t even be a part of you that can think. It’s blocked under our programing. Listen to me, Era.” Gabby began.
“I’M NOT ERA.” They snapped. “I’m Nick. We know each other. Don’t we?”
Gabby’s heart sank. This shouldn’t be possible. No other Era model had recovered their memories before. “They shouldn’t even have that name saved to your chip.” As she contemplated the information, she heard tiny footsteps near the table. Returning her gun to the girl, she fired a shot, trying to hit the monster before it could flee. When the gun fired, the girl ducked back behind the table. “Don’t move, monster. Is this your doing?”
Era looked at the weapon in their hands, tensing. “You said this program was for justice. Didn’t you? That we would save people? Why are we doing this, then? You said this program would save me. Am I actually saved?” You’ve made me into a monster.”
“They shouldn’t have assigned you to me, Nick. None of this makes any sense. I never lied about anything. On your deathbed, I told you that this was the only way you could keep fighting. You wanted to fight. I was against this.” Gabby kept her weapon pointed at the table, giving Era a side glance.
“I don’t want to do this. I’m scared. Why did they need part of my brain? Can’t they make robots?”
“Robots are unreliable. They can be hacked, and their energy drains far too quickly. Allowing them to use part of a human brain allows their processes to save space and energy on the field. You should already know this. We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we?” Gabby stepped closer to the table, only to halt when she heard Era follow her.
“Don’t kill her.”
“Why not?”
“She’s only a kid.”
Gabby sighed. “You know. Part of me wanted to believe that was actually you, Nick. That I could say a proper goodbye to my old friend. It’s not. That creature’s just pulling at memories, trying to find something that might weaken me. A creature like this killed you. You should know she isn’t just a kid. its emotional manipulation, the same type you fell to. I’m guessing you knew that too, monster. Or did you overlook that memory when you were sweeping through our files?”
Jessica screeched, tossing the bear to the floor. She knew she was trapped, giving guttural growls as she tapped the table, shaking her only cover. Gabby remained still, not approaching the sound, nor firing a wasted shot. “Nick, if that is you in there, you’ll take the shot.”
Era did nothing, and so Gabby reached into Era’s hand, pulling the trigger on his weapon. When it fired, the monster popped out from its cover, assuming Gabby had fired her own gun. Thinking it had a chance to run, it lunged out of cover, only to get shot down by Gabby. The ‘girls’ synthetic skin falling away as it powered down, revealing the metallic body underneath.
“Fucking manipulative pricks. I can’t believe they keep making these things. To think, a monster like that can find out so much about a person without needing to get into their heads. Not only that, their able to mess with the Era models programming. So much for the anti-hacking argument my superiors gave me. Why do we even need a human brain in them anymore, if those creatures can get around it?” Gabby pushed her fingers against her eyes, wiping the tears away. “Fucking hell, Nick. You’re still haunting me.”
“You’re a Lieutenant now Gabby?” A voice asked, causing Gabby to stiffen. “Weren’t you meant to wait for me?”
“You died. I couldn’t wait. Nick, I’m sorry. I hesitated, and it killed you because of it. Nick, I’m…” She turned, finding a blank Era model staring at her.
“There is no Nick in my records? Has a person been added to the mission statement? If so, please give me their full name or number and rank, so I may add them to my objective.”
“Era, override programming protocol, no identification. Now tell me, who are you?” Gabby said, praying it wasn’t who she thought it was.
“Heather Phillips donated this brain. Id 2003213. Would you like any further information on Heather Phillips?” Era asked.
“No.” Gabby walked over and stomped the dead monster, making sure there was no way that its programming could keep running. “To think our enemies have resorted to this. Era, enter low-power mode, only run basic functions and cut off your link to main server. Sweep the area and capture anything humanoid you find. If you can’t capture it, kill it.”
With Gabby’s orders, the machine walked around the ruined laboratory, searching for more of those creatures. Gabby hoping that they wouldn’t be able to hack Era in its low powered mode. Without access to the main server, it shouldn’t be able to give away any of her secrets either. Gabby assuming that was how it found out about her connection to Nick, through whatever files they had saved about her and her previous missions.
While Era searched the area, Gabby called their base. “Our enemies are getting stronger. It was able to find out about my connection to Nick. We need to bump up our security or they’ll soon learn how to turn the Era’s guns against us. I’ll tell you more when I get back. Just send a pickup. I’ve got a body here too. I’m sure you would like a chance to see what machinery they're putting inside their weapons.” She said, ending her transmission.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
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SirPiecemaker
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sadnesslaughs
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2024-11-09 04:38:17
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2024-11-09 03:35:24
| 48 | 31 |
lw7bo9p
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lw732ft
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1gmy2wh
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1gmy2wh
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[WP] You live in a society where time travellers send packages to the homes of children who will one day become horrific criminals, containing advice on how to properly parent this child and a blade for more… extreme measures if the child resists. One day, the package arrives to your house.
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I sighed while staring down at the way-too-conspicuous package on my porch.
"Why am I not surprised?"
Frankly, I don't know why it didn't come sooner. The kid was only ten years old and he'd already stabbed me twice for beating him in fighter games. He even got me in an organ the last time. Good thing I only need one kidney, though I wished I'd had better warning beforehand so I might have kept both.
I scooped up the box and brought it inside, dreading having to break the news to my wife. I'm sure part of her had to already suspect we'd get one someday, but the fact we made it so long without one gave her hope that he was merely a rebellious child and would grow out of it. Neither of us was prepared to raise a kid in the first place, which seemed par for the course according to most parents, so we didn't think much of having to constantly be in a state of improvising. To now have evidence that we fail especially hard compared to others was a punch in the gut I wasn't sure she could handle. At least she was still at the grocery store so that I had time to find a better way to tell her than just having it heartlessly plopped on her lap.
Admittedly, I had always been curious about what was in those packages. No one who received one went into the details. Many tried to avoid letting anyone know in the first place since it was seen as a mark of shame. Given what often happened to the known families in the end implied there wasn't anything good to be found in there. If the kid didn't end up missing or in some kind of "accident", then it was one or both of the parents. One time, it was the entire family; all the siblings and even the grandparents. Whether they were instructed to go that far was a mystery that couldn't be solved since the box and its contents vanished when the problem was fixed.
I opened it in the kitchen while our little hellion was preoccupied with speed-running a zombie survival game. Had I thought it through better, perhaps I would have chosen a more remote part of the house like my office in the basement, but the kitchen was closer and I was only thinking about time and not prying eyes. On top was a letter I barely skimmed, filled with empty apologies and assurances that tried to simultaneously say it's not our fault while also telling us to do better. Directly underneath were some generic looking books on parenting, not dissimilar from the ones we'd seen in the waiting room of the birthing center. Surely the future had to have better graphics designers and more advanced psychology to pull from than that. It made me wonder if I had been targeted by one of those trolling groups I'd heard about. But then I got to the next section: the proof.
It was uncanny seeing his adult mugshot. He looked so much like his mother but with a demeanor closer to mine with the knitted brow and annoyed looking snarl. My good old resting asshole face. I'm not sure why I always looked like that in pictures, but apparently, my son inherits it. Beneath that is his list of crimes, which are primarily murders with a few cases of arson mixed in. On its face, nothing seemed so especially heinous to warrant time travel intervention over any other ordinary criminal, but the summary explained the problem wasn't the crimes themselves or even the amount. The problem was who he targeted... or rather, targets? Due to some timey-wimey bureaucracy, it can't go into further detail than that apparently, which I find odd. One would think if he ends up with a vendetta, then knowing who it's against and why would be an important step toward prevention.
But that was assuming they wanted a peaceful solution.
At the bottom of the box is an additional letter and a knife. The letter claims the knife is a "last resort" for if we can't get through to him, but with how little help they provide toward reformation, it more so seems to be the option they're pushing for. After all, it's the more guaranteed way to get their desired result.
"No way! Ain't that one of those family death packages?"
I'd been so absorbed in the contents that I hadn't even noticed my son walk in. I stared at him silently a good few seconds, unsure how to respond. I could have denied it and said it was a hoax or claimed it only looked similar to one. We were never good at hiding things from him, though, so I knew it was pointless to try.
"That it is," I answered and motioned for him to pull up a chair. When he sat down, I handed him his mugshot and rap sheet. "Congratulations. You become a serial killer."
"Sick!" He poured over the information enthusiastically, though his proud grin faded the more he read. "The hell!? Why is it all boring stuff? Where's the creative kills? The crazy death traps? Why I gotta be so basic? The future sucks!"
He tossed the papers on the table with a petulant huff.
"They want me to kill you, ya know," I said while showing him the knife. His smirk returned and he popped up out of his seat to grab a chef's knife off the counter.
"Go ahead and try me, old man!" he said while brandishing it at me. "Twenty bucks says you lose your other kidney."
I knew I should have been taking it more seriously and that this wasn't normal father and son behavior, but dammit if there wasn't some part of me that couldn't help getting caught up in it like it was some sort of game. But before either of us could draw first blood, we heard the car pull up. Whatever else might have been going through our messed up heads completely disappeared and we dropped what we were doing to stuff everything back into the box as quickly as possible. He then took the whole thing and bolted up the stairs while I met my wife in the driveway to help with the groceries.
I couldn't bring myself to tell her.
The evening was spent making small talk and specifically avoiding the subject. My son and I waited until after she went to bed to bring the package back out and discuss what to do about it.
"Mom can't ever know," he said as he handed it back to me. "It would break her heart."
"Yeah, well, that doesn't seem to be a concern of yours in the future when you decide to start murdering people," I answered while we both walked out to the car and packed the box away into the trunk.
"That's future me. Right now me at least cares." The last part he said under his breath and he seemed embarrassed to admit it.
I smiled and patted his head. "You go back inside. I'll go dump this somewhere and we can pretend it never came. She can live peacefully until then, believing you're going to grow up to be a decent human being."
He smiled back. "Good. Because if anything happened to her, then whoever sent that package would be the first to die." His voice sounded like he was joking, but there was a look in his eyes that showed he meant it. Despite having been stabbed by him before, that brief moment was the first time he actually unnerved me.
After he went back inside, I felt compelled to check on the package again to make sure everything was secure for the drive since it would be easy to miss a paper or two in the dark if it were to fall over along the way. But when I opened the trunk, it was gone.
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End the cycle.
That's what the note said. That's all it said.
Everyone knew what a package from a time traveler meant. It was hard to believe that my son could become a monster. He was always a troublemaker, but I never imagined him capable of this.
I looked down at the blade that also arrived. I had thought about killing my boy but, this knife implies I might have to stab him.
My daddy always said that no one is sweet, everyone is hiding something, he was right. My father beat this lesson into me, now it is time that my son learn this lesson. I discipled my son the same way to make him turn out right.
I grabbed the blade, it is time I teach that child of mine a lesson he'll never forget. How dare he turn out bad!
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ThisEmptySoul
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brleise12
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2024-02-10 08:51:44
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2024-02-10 00:49:22
| 69 | 47 |
kprdihg
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kppv51s
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1an37bt
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1an37bt
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[WP] Wizards have the same trust in magic that software designers have in software, in other words, none at all.
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I always found their praise insulting. How they would congratulate me for birthing the chosen one, while also breathing a sigh of relief, knowing their own child wouldn’t have to die to protect the world. They didn’t care about us. They only cared about some stupid prophecy that was shouted by a blind and deaf crone that couldn’t even hear the words she was saying.
Yet, they believed her. Polluting my child’s head with lies, saying that she would become some great savior. The one to make the ultimate sacrifice when the time came. What a horrible thing to say to a child. To put the weight of the world on a child’s shoulders was sickening, but whenever I told them that, they would scowl at me, like I was the one who was insane.
Slowly, I found myself ostracized by the community. The villagers only allowing me to stay because I was the mother of the chosen one. Even my former husband grew distant, wanting to save his social life by creating a buffer between us until he ultimately left me. I never blamed him for that. He was a victim too, like we all were. I don’t think he ever stopped loving me, more he made a choice to protect his side of the family who were being targeted for my crime of wanting to protect my daughter.
Still, I won’t deny it hurt.
As long as Melina remained safe, I could tolerate anything. The loneliness, the glares, anything, as long as she remained safe and by my side. Then it happened. They ordered my sixteen-year-old daughter to fight bandits. Of course, they did this while I was in the markets, knowing I would have stopped her if I had been there.
I only found out about it when she came back soaked in blood. Thankfully alive, but without a right hand. The villagers all seemed unable to comprehend why she came back so hurt, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. She was only sixteen. Even the great heroes of prophecy were at least twenty before they went on their grand journeys. By rushing her to become a hero, they cost her a limb.
If that had been the end of things, maybe I could have found a way to forgive them. If they learnt from their mistake, I could have let them be.
Yet, as soon as she was out of bed, they asked her what her next adventure would be. Who would she tackle next? They had lied to themselves, convinced that despite the loss of her hand, she had still won. She was the victor. In their minds, that proved they were right about the prophecy.
Oh, I bet that old crone was laughing in her grave. Seeing what hell she brought upon us. That’s when it occurred to me, her suffering would never end. Not until she was dead, or until she found some great evil to conquer. Though such an evil didn’t exist, did it?
It was hard forcing her into my husband’s care. She wanted to be by my side, and I wanted nothing more than to remain by her side. Sadly, that couldn’t happen in this life. It was strange. That moment standing in his doorway felt like old times. For a second, I let myself believe we were a common family. Like we had been all those years ago.
Despite my initial hesitation, I gave my former husband a kiss, one he thankfully returned, before I left. Left to become the villain she needed me to be.
Dark robes and a sharpened dagger were all I needed. I knew these people well. People stick to their routines and a keen eye can observe them. For example, Daisy leaves the bakery by sundown. After that, she passes the tavern, sneaking through a small alleyway that leaves her all alone for a good minute.
She was the first to die and the only one I grieved for. Daisy hadn’t been a bad person, she hadn’t pushed my daughter like the others. That’s why she needed to be the first. The first to die had to be someone kind, someone whose death wouldn’t be overlooked. It also helped that I had no motive to kill her. I’m sure my name would come into consideration after my disappearance, so it was best to muddy the waters until I could distance myself further from it.
After Daisy, things got easier. I became removed from these people, unable to see them as anything but mindless followers. It felt like that fate they all chirped about. I was fulfilling my role, like my daughter was, and they were now being drawn into it. All those villagers who were smiling when they found out their own kin wouldn’t be killed because of some dumb prophecy were now all getting killed by that very prophecy.
I just wish that crone were still alive. I would have loved to get my hands on her, just to make everything feel complete.
The murders got more elaborate, until I was burning down towns with barely a flick of my finger, ordering bandits around like pieces on a chessboard. I did always make it clear that none of them were ever to kill my daughter if they came into contact with her. They could only capture her. I also made sure my least skilled bandits were in the areas where she would be, ensuring she had excellent targets to practice on.
This game of chess continued for six years until she found her way to my manor. To think that I could afford such a thing now. It’s amazing how easy it is to get money when you remove your conscience.
She was stunning, like looking at a younger version of myself. A version that hadn’t become a monster. I had no interest in revealing who I was, even after I died. I wouldn’t ever wish to drive such a dagger through her heart. As I watched her approach my manor door, I swiftly secured a metal helmet onto my face, making sure my identity would remain hidden.
With my identity concealed, I headed for our confrontation, meeting her in the hallway. I couldn’t have been prouder of her. Even if this wasn’t a fate I had wanted for her, she had still become such a good person. I wanted to shout and tell her how much I loved her, but I resisted the urge, accepting what was to come.
“Why do all this?” She asked, staring up at me with those same bright blue eyes that she used to give me when she wanted a sweet before dinner.
“Because fate wanted this.” I said, lowering my head. “Your mother was the first to die. She thought if she could kill me, you would be spared. She received a quick death.” I offered her closure, wanting her to at least know the truth. I had died all those years ago. What was under this helmet wasn’t her mother.
She cried, holding her blade in her one hand, shedding tears. I couldn’t describe how nice that felt. To know she still loved her mother after everything. Keeping my emotions in check, I stepped forward as she tightened her grip on the sword.
The light blade was perfect for her, able to be maneuvered with her one hand. I made a show of this battle, fending off her strikes before letting her complete her task, feeling her blade pierce through my robes, coming out the other side.
“Who are you?” She asked, freeing the blade from my stomach. I only fell, smiling beneath the metal as I laid by her feet, keeping my gaze on her face. My sweet girl. You’re safe now. She tried to unlock my helmet before giving up and turning away, leaving me to die.
As she left, I allowed myself to cry, feeling so happy for her. She was free now. She could do whatever she wanted with her life. When I heard my men approaching the manor, I knew I could stop clinging to my life. They had orders to burn my body, preventing her or anybody else from coming with tools to reveal my identity.
Goodbye Melina, your mother loves you.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
[Poem]
Look at her, mother of queens, look at her clear blue eyes
You know what she'll become.
Aren't you proud of this sacrifice you've birthed, this
beautiful, perfect thing you've made out of your body?
Your flesh and blood, your heart and soul,
All that you are and all you ever will be.
Your greatest success shall also be, inevitably, inexorably,
Your greatest sorrow.
When she dies young, and, trust us, she will,
Will you have the heart to bury her?
To look into her lifeless eyes, those eyes
that used to be so pretty,
And say, *"I loved you, child of mine, with all my beating heart"*.
Because, you know, she won't die easy.
She'll spill her guts upon the cobblestones
and gurgle blood with every tortured breath
And no-one will be there to hold her.
She'll cry, alone, betrayed, abandoned,
A sacrifice offered up to an uncaring God.
Are you proud, oh Mother of Heroes?
Will you still be proud then?
When someone will scoop her spilled innards,
back into the torn flesh of her ribcage,
When they sew her back up and make her whole,
When they wash the blood off her skin,
When they dress her up in white and gold and
put her in the ground.
For now, she's beautiful.
Will you still love her, when she won't be?
|
sadnesslaughs
|
TheTiredDystopian
|
2024-10-04 11:43:14
|
2024-10-04 10:22:50
| 31 | 22 |
lqaapy5
|
lqa1vk3
|
1fvv3i5
|
1fvv3i5
|
[WP] Every dragon rider gets a dragon egg to hatch upon their initiation to the guild. When your egg hatched, Your dragon came out a bit... Different.
|
"...This is a snake."
It's eyes flickered, brushing off pieces of shell as it meandered towards the adventurer. The room breathe held its breath as it reached the boots, its tongue flickering on the worn leather. The adventurer looked closer at the eyes. "...Blurry..." Her voice was soft, she reached down and patted the snake's head.
The room audibly relaxed. People shuffled in and out, trying to get closer to the initiation pit. But a voice pierced the hushed quiet. "Kill it!" An elder, her voice shrill came hobbling towards the pit. Pointing with her pit, she shouted again. "Kill the snake!"
Murmurs rose to shouts, heated arguments with confusion growing on all sides. The adventurer hugged her head. She said nothing as the pit grew with people. Some came with daggers, and some with axes bared. The snake wasn't enormous, but it could wrap itself around the to-be dragon rider. The adventurer looked at he incoming crowd and smiled. A younger man raised his axe, and she closed her eyes as it came swinging down.
***
She opened her eyes. The snake looked up at her. The cloud eyes, flickering tongue were... cute. "Where are we?"
In her mind, she could hear a soft, calm voice. *Safe*.
|
Ever since I was a child I always wanted to be a Dragon Rider. They were always incredibly revered and seemingly the most powerful warriors across the kingdoms. Their neutrality became their most appreciated value and would never interfere with the politics of the world.
Monsters were gaining more and more power each year. A creature that could once be accidentally killed by a mere toddler was now requiring at least a teenager to handle properly. Dragon riders were becoming more and more valuable, but less and less were coming back from their adventures. Either gone missing or found completely mangled and unrecognizable much later.
Researchers discovered that there was some kind of dark magical essence being emitted from the Great Ocean. I was chosen as one of the lower tiered Dragon Riders to help investigate and fend off against the monsters around the Great Ocean. I would work closely with other experienced Dragon Riders and they would help guide me and learn the ropes.
The first year I was simply the new rookie, doing whatever the others told me to do and not get in the way. On one of the adventuring parties out towards the center of the dark magic, our boat had been ambushed by merfolk monsters. I’m not sure what it was but the merfolk seemingly ignored me while their attention had been focused on the other Dragon Riders. During that encounter, I made a name for myself by stabbing the merfolk when their backs were turned and saving several of my fellow riders. They started referring to me as “Stealth Rider”.
I had left my Dragon egg down in my quarters under the deck, so I went to check on it after the battle. I’m lucky that I had, as one of the merfolk that made it onto the deck had apparently snuck away to go looting. As it touched the egg, I came up from behind and just as the others, I stabbed it through the back and clean through its heart. To mine and everybody else’s surprise, the once Onyx colored Egg was a Pale Yellow polka dotted Sky Blue color. Everyone I asked had never heard of a blue egg before. Everyone else’s had only heard or seen red and brown eggs. I was worried that the merfolk had tainted the egg somehow or something.
After we made it back to the guild from our excursion, I discussed with the hire ups about the situation and they were simply as stumped as I was. Nothing in their records ever talked about blue or yellow eggs. They offered to replace the egg with a new egg, assuming the egg to be unusable or tainted in some way just as I had suspected. But something in my gut told me that it was okay. I decided to keep the unique blue egg and care for it just as I have for the past year.
Our trips continued back to the ocean. Every other month was another trip to safeguard researchers or transport supplies. We eventually were able to create a makeshift underwater base. 3 years of nearly continuous travel back and forth from sea to land and land to sea. The riders I had started up with now had hatched eggs and dragons to train and ride, so they weren’t able to stay on the boats.
I was now the veteran rider for the unhatched newbies. I became a bit of a legend to the upstarts over the years, still keeping to the name of “Stealth Rider” and the surrounding gossip about the unique blue and yellow egg. Some of them ostracized me, others considered me a legend. It didn’t bother me any.
We continued making trips to the ocean base and fending off against more merfolk and other monsters. Before I knew it, another year had passed. It was time for my dragon to finally hatch. I waited anxiously and kept my egg close.
But it didn’t hatch. I waited for 2 whole weeks. Not even any movement. I considered taking up the offer to replace my egg. I waited another month, and I decided that I would go back out to the ocean again when the egg still didn’t hatch. Eventually, I got so used to the duties, I ended up just sticking with what I knew best.
It almost didn’t feel like I was taking care of an egg anymore. It was just a blue and yellow rock. I still cared for it more than anything, but I accepted the fact that there’s a chance it may not hatch. I’d happily make use of my Stealth Rider title and take out as many merfolk that I could before my time ended. Eventually, another 5 years passed and the set of once newbies came and went, replaced by even more newbies.
Research had made way to a discovery of a cavern deep underwater, completely overrun with monsters. But there wasn’t a safe way to properly handle the problem at its core. So new research was invested into figuring out methods for removal or destruction or ways to get people that deep underwater. All I could do was keep making trips and protecting those that I could.
Déjà vu happened one day. Our boat was ambushed by even more merfolk than the first time. Once again, I was ignored. I saved as many as I could, but the dark magic made the merfolk stronger. A few of our fellow riders fell and while under my watch. I sank to the ground onto my knees, heartbroken that I couldn’t save more. The déjà vu hit even harder again and my heart sank. I ran down to my quarters, and just as last time, another merfolk had their hands wrapped around my egg. I immediately screamed and charged forward, slicing my blade through the merfolk before he could even react.
The egg started glowing a bright white. I wasn’t sure what to do so I brought the egg out on deck. It was burning hot. I couldn’t hold onto it anymore. It fell to the ground. It glowed too bright. I shielded my eyes with my hands from the heat and the light.
And then it suddenly dissipated. When I looked back, a fully grown blue scaled dragon head was peering over me. I was stunned with awe. Everyone just stared, unsure what to do. Eventually I realized the head extended back into the water. It was an interesting sight to say the least.
“Proooo… teeeeect…” I heard a booming deep voice in my head. I could hear its thoughts. I tried thinking back to it.
“Are you here to protect me?” I stared up at the dragon’s large catfish-like whiskers. His head bent down toward me, and I instinctively understood he wanted me to ride him. I clambered up onto the immense head that was my new dragon. And as soon as I grabbed tight to one of its horns on its back, it swiftly dove into the water. I realized I was able to breathe in the water as easily as air. The water rushed past quickly, deeper and deeper into the depths. Before I knew it, I was at the entrance of the cavern that was emitting dark magic and empowering the monsters. The dragon opened his mouth and spewed out some kind of green liquid into the entrance of the cavern. And just as swiftly, we had rushed back to the boat we had come in on. He bent his head down toward the deck and I clambered off. I gave him some pats on the side of his face as best I could and we continued to the underwater base.
After talking with some of the researchers about what happened and a little bit of pleading, I was able to explain what happened and asked if they could test the dark magic readings to see if they are still being emitted. To the researchers’ surprise, the dark magic had completely disappeared.
When I made it back to the Dragon Rider’s guild, I was invited to see the king and was bestowed a large sum of money and offered a title. I could only refuse the title as a true Dragon Rider, I was only allowed to be truly neutral.
|
imakhink
|
illiagorath
|
2024-04-30 05:48:04
|
2024-04-30 05:22:51
| 48 | 33 |
l1wh1se
|
l1wekfr
|
1cggtbb
|
1cggtbb
|
[WP] You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.
|
I sighed, blowing a strand of loose hair outta my face. My chair was comfy enough, and the Decimator had placed my chair near his command center ages ago after I sat near the alligator tank for 3 hours, a new record. It'd now been almost 16 hours since he'd taken me.
Honestly, Decimator isn't THAT bad of a guy. After as many times as I've watched him do what he does, he does it to train the city's heroes. After all, the people who trained him are infinitely worse than he and if he's right about them coming here, the city's heroes AND villains need to be ready.
In the meantime, Deci and I have gotten to know each other very well. I know their favorite color is orange, like a setting sun. They love chinese food. And love watching Disney Movies. I'd starting having feelings for them after the 8th time they'd taken me. But as today was my birthday and Valentine's Day, I was feeling more courageous. Or possibly foolish.
*Ahem* I cleared my throat to get Decimator's attention. "I'm sure they'll be here soon," they said, voice modifier disguising their actual voice.
"It's been the longest time that Lightspeed has yet to rescue me," I gulped. If now was the time to shoot my shot, I have to take it. "Anyways, since it looks like I'll be here a while, do you mind...I don't know...tightening these ropes?"
Decimator went behind me, hands nearing my binds. "Of course, I wouldn't want you to...wait, what did you ask?"
I tilted my head back to look at their mask. "I asked you to tighten my ropes." The air became charged and almost crackled with heat and electricity. With a rough tug, the ropes bit more into my wrists and my arms held fast against the smooth wood of the chair.
"I hope you know what you've asked for tonight, I won't be going easy."
"Who said I wanted you to?"
|
TW - dark ending.
********
“He needs to be stopped”
“What for? Out of all the criminals we have, he’s probably the most non violent. On our list of priorities, he’s right at the bottom of the totem pole.”
“You don’t understand. He’s the most dangerous of them all.”
“Ok let me look. Dr Death. Damages this month. 4 million. Citizens harmed. 8. 2 dead. Matterman. 15 million in damages. 3 people sustained minor injuries. Ah. Here we go. Heath. Hmmm. 35k in damages. No one dead. No one injured. Only 1 person ever kidnapped. Besides what sort of super villain calls himself Heath. Not even a supervillain name. I don’t know why you’re so bent out of shape over…”
Shadow stormed out. Normally you could barely tell when he came in and out. Probably his biggest advantage. But the door was closed so violently that it came off its hinges. No way it could have gone unnoticed.
“Idiot.” The mayor grumbles under his breath. “When he can’t argue with math, he throws a tantrum.”
The mayor then busied himself in looking at his polling numbers. It wasn’t looking good.
******
“You might as well drop the facade and let me out. Or are we going to talk from across the room again today?”
Heath looked up. Their eyes met for a moment but Heath immediately looked away. “Yeah. Uh. That’s not really locked. 3 clockwise and 2 anticlockwise. That will let you out.”
Shawna did as he asked. To her surprise the lock clicked and the door opened. “You do know that it’s a creepy wooing technique right? I assume that’s what you’re doing here.”
“No… I… I’m sorry.”
“Some supervillain you are.” She went to him, and sat next to him. The cave that they were in opened out to a beautiful view of the city skyline. The sun was setting and the sky looked like it was on fire. She looked at his phone that he held.
She raised her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“Oh. I… I accidentally destroyed a shop while kidnapping you today. Damages of around 35-40k. I’m just sending them the money back.”
She laughed heartily. It was like a roar of happiness and it made his heart flutter. “You really don’t know how to be a supervillain.”
“Well I’m retiring today. So it’s probably for the best.”
“You’re retiring? Why?”
“He was there today. Waiting for me. He knows I’m targeting you specifically. I tried to keep it random. But obviously he’s been keeping a watch on you continuously.”
“What do you mean he’s watching me?”
“I usually time my attacks based on when other villains attack. When he’s busy. Dr Death is in the middle of a major attack right now. But Shadow didn’t go to help there. He stayed, keeping a watch on you. I missed him, of course. Impossible to see him if he doesn’t want you to or if you’re prepared for it specifically. So he’s prioritizing stopping me over saving the dozens of people who are in danger right now. I can’t do that. I could never live knowing people came to harm because of me. He should be out there stopping Dr. Death. But he attacked me. Once I saw him, I was prepared of course. But the damages. I’m not a rich man. 50k is basically all my life savings. I wish I had more so I could try to compensate for the people Death is…” He paused, realizing Shawna was staring at him.
“You’re a supervillain. You’re supposed to do bad things to get money or power. Not empty out your bank accounts to help victims.”
“As you said, I’m not a good villain.”
“Why then?” Shawna took out her phone, put it on silent and placed it between them.
He looked at the phone.
She smiled. “It’s not recording or anything. Out here at the edge, I have a bar. Inside there’s no signal. As you’re probably aware which is why you’re sitting here to do bank transactions.”
“Oh. Yeah. That and the view is gorgeous here.”
“It really is.” But she shivered a bit.
“Oh I’m sorry. Let me.” He made a wrist movement, and a jacket appeared almost by magic.
“Thank you. Super cool.”
He smiled and stared at his feet. “Nah it’s nothing.” He looked out at the sky again. “It doesn’t seem like he’s coming.”
“I wonder why. Not that I’m complaining.”
“I hope he’s stopped Dr. Death.”
“If it’s the last time, I’d like to know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why do all of this? Who are you?”
“Well the second one is easy. My name is Heath.”
“Not your villain name. Your real one.”
He looked a bit sheepish, as sheepish as possible with a mask on. “It’s Heathcliff. My mom loved the classics.”
Shawna laughed. “What the fuck!!! You didn’t even change your name?”
“I didn’t really think it through! It was just a moment that I went insane. And I do want to apologize for that. I know I’ve caused you some real harm.”
“Not particularly. I’ve come to sort of enjoy our conversations. You’re obviously a smart guy.”
“That’s not healthy.”
“It’s not. But have you seen the dating pool out there? This isn’t even my weirdest date.”
“It’s not a date! I just… ok let me ask you this. Do you believe in fate?”
“Oh god. Now I’m starting to sour on you.”
“I know I know. That sounds weird. High school athletic meet. You were the basketball star.”
“How do you know that?”
“I… well… I was at the finals game. I went to St. Mary’s.”
“No way! Did you play?”
“No no. I wasn’t good at any sports. But I saw you and…”
“Creeping back into creepy.”
“I know! It’s not like that though. I saw you. And I know it’s a bit cringy. But I sort of fell for you. I never intended to see you again. I just knew your name. And I had your smile after the final shot. That was enough for me.”
“You should’ve said something.”
“I was there for 2 days. Then I’d be back miles away. Plus I… well… let’s just say you were always too good for me.”
“That’s silly talk.”
“I know we like to say that. But like, I couldn’t imagine why you would go out with someone like me. Especially since I was going to be gone shortly.”
“That’s quitter talk. What’s the worst that could’ve happened.”
“Nothing I suppose. Let’s just say I was a coward.”
“And then. You decided this was the best way to see me again. As I said, we’re strongly in creepy territory again.”
“I… I don’t know how to explain. Look I gained my powers when I hit puberty. But I was already bullied enough. I was already called freak by everyone. I just hid them. When I first… well kidnapped you, do you remember what happened?”
“I kinda do. There was bad weather and then… oh!!!”
“Yep. It was the day Matterman attacked. The building behind you was about to collapse. I looked across the street and say… well the lost, first love. I panicked. I just wanted to get you out of harms way. But then I imagined exactly this conversation and didn’t want to show you my face or tell you who I was. Because it was obviously creepy as you pointed out. So I just pretended to be a villain. The second time.. again I swear to god I just saw you. I just panicked again. You looked at me and I thought you recognized me. I just quickly put on a mask. People, including you got scared. And i just.. I don’t know why I did that honestly.”
“And then we got to talking.”
“I sort of begin to enjoy our conversations. While I’ve hidden my superpowers I still did want to know more about them. I had researched Shadow and other heroes and villains. I can sort of match up with Shadow as long as I can control the environment. Plus the whole he won’t kill works in my favour.”
“And today?”
“It seems that he has decided I am more important than actually saving lives. So I guess I’m saying goodbye.”
Shawna reached over and took off his mask. “Next time. Just text me. Look I enjoy talking to you. And just to be clear I’m not saying anything is going to happen here. But I’ll give you a chance to woo me.” Shawna took her phone and handed it to Heath. “Put your number in.”
Heath looked shocked. But he took her phone.
**Tracking in progress**
“Oh no.”
|
Aquariousity01
|
TA_Account_12
|
2023-02-15 04:49:21
|
2023-02-15 04:22:45
| 177 | 127 | null |
j8lhi26
|
oxxzh4
|
112morh
|
[WP]You reincarnated in a fantasy world, but when you go check your stats, everything seems to be really average, until you put your eyes on charisma, that is on 200 points
|
"My queen!"
"Sup?"
"General Hawthorne of the Iron Legion is here on behalf of the Asmati Kingdom."
"Oh, cool. Show him in."
A tall, burly man covered in scars walked in. His armour, his bearing, his eyes - it all showed decades of military experience. A man that did not know defeat.
"Queen Dahlia," Hawthorne hissed.
"Hey. What brings you here?"
"I have ten thousand of my most decorated warriors waiting outside of your town. I have come to negotiate your surrender. Do the honourable thing; yield and save the lives of your people."
I looked at him carefully.
"No, I don't think I will."
Hawthorne's eyes narrowed.
"Then you will die," he growled.
"I guess I'll just, dunno, have to fight you then."
Hawthorne gasped and his eyes widened with sheer, unbridled terror. The utterance of those words, the assured tone, the way the sentence carried itself through the air - he never knew such fear. He knew he stood no chance.
"Say," I said, "do *you* want to surrender?"
He drew his sword with trembling fingers and threw it on the ground, sweat running down his forehead.
"Alright, cool," I said contently. "So I assume the, uh, uh..." I clicked my tongue a few times.
"Asmati Kingdom, my queen," my adjutant reminded me.
"Right! Cheers, mate. So I assume the Asmati Kingdom is going to become our vassal? Is that right, general?"
"Y- yes, your highness. I shall dispatch my messengers immediately. "
"Neat," I nodded. It reminded me of the time I gained control over my current kingdom.
Walked up to the king and asked.
*Nicely*.
|
“Only one point in luck? Seems awfully low, but what does the luck stat even do in a game, anyway? What even is considered luck? At least my strength and defense stat are average. Think I’ll need to rely on those a lot more than luck. Oh, well, guess it would have been boring if I was overpowered.”
I went to close the menu, only for a certain stat to catch my eye. “Charisma, two hundred points? That can’t be right, can it? It must be a strange glitch. Maybe something messed up when I got here. Or perhaps it’s a reflection of my skills when I was alive? I gave a pretty magnificent speech on frog’s back in year ten. Maybe this is just a reflection of that?”
I stared at the stat menu, unable to take my eyes away from the large number. A whole two hundred points in charisma. How could I even lose? I would have the villain recruited to my side in a matter of minutes. Hell, I could even just convince everyone I meet to join me, and we could easily take down the villain with the power of friendship; I’m unstoppable.
Strutting towards the town, I felt a newfound surge of confidence. This fantasy world was mine to dominate. I would be the mighty hero, just like all those custom protagonists I used to make in the rpg’s I played. Still, I wanted to take it a little slow. I was the hero after all, I should enjoy my rise to fame and not speedrun it. I approached a farmer, giving them a quick bow, ready to take on whatever sidequest they had.
“Excuse me, sir. I’m a new hero and I was wondering if you needed some help?”
The man stared at me, his mouth going slack as he just watched me. Was he frozen? Maybe his AI had bugged? I gave his bearded face a poke, trying to get a reaction from him. All my poke did was push a little drool out of his mouth as he seemed lost to the world, unable to even blink.
“Curse you, demon lord. What sorcery is this? Do you intend to stop me so soon?” I stared at the sky, assuming this was the sort of moment where a cutscene would occur and the demon lord would jump out from the sky to mock me. But instead, the farmer placed a hand on me, grabbing my shoulder.
“CHOSEN ONE. YOU WILL BE OUR HERO.”
His grip got tighter, threatening to crush my shoulder. I smacked his hand away, slowly backing away from him. Ok, maybe he is cursed? Maybe this is a dark fantasy type thing where the worlds in an apocalyptic state.
When I stepped back, he stepped forward, closing the gap until I turned and ran. As soon as I sprinted, he followed, chasing me around the farm as I rushed towards the town. I could get some help there.
“HELP, HELP. I THINK THIS MAN’S GONE MAD. I HAVEN’T EVEN GOT MY STARTING WEAPONS YET.” This was a horrible start to my hero’s journey, but all heroes needed to start from horrible beginnings, right?
When I finally arrived in the town’s market, I was tripping over stalls and stumbling about, still in a panic as I heard the farmer’s steps quickly following. I turned to look back, only to bump into a clothes stall, knocking their colorful items onto the ground as I fell.
“Watch it! The hell are you doing?” The owner hissed, picking me up by my collar.
“I’m sorry, there’s a maniac coming after me. I don’t know what to do.”
The man stared at me. So did the others in the market, my voice drawing their attention to me. They then turned to the farmer, and in a blind rage, began attacking him. They screamed about how they would protect the hero and how they loved their hero, while throwing punches at their fellow neighbor. Soon a brawl had started, with everyone attacking everybody. In the chaos, the occasional person would try to grab me, only to get tossed away by another villager.
I didn’t know what to do. The bloodshed was terrifying. I was a hero. I should protect these people, but…. I needed to get away. I tried to flee, but my running only turned their attention back to me. I rushed past stalls, kicked open doors, and fled through houses, climbing through windows, trying anything I could to get away. I thought I had made it past the group, slipping through a side door only for a shovel to hit my face.
The next few hours were a blur. I could hear mumbled talking, people singing my praises as they carried me through various homes and areas. Occasionally, I would see a face in my blurred vision, their words lost on me as they tried to communicate with me. When I finally came to, I was in a home, one that almost felt comforting when compared to the earlier chaos.
There was a freshly cooked meal on the table, one which I was eager to eat. Perhaps the earlier chaos had settled, and the villagers had come to? When I sat at the table, I noticed how wrong I was. At the window, I could see them watching, five of them with their cheeks pressed against the glass, watching my every moment. I hated to imagine how many more were surrounding the home.
I pushed away the meal, moving towards the front door, their eyes following me as I made my way for the exit. I gripped the handle, pulling it open, only to see another six bloodied villagers staring at me, blocking my escape. They had at least survived the brawl, but their bruises and wounds showed how devastating of a battle it must have been. They didn’t seem to care about their wounds, just smiling at me, refusing to budge.
“Is everything ok, our hero? You’re very precious to us. We are going to keep you here so the dark lord can’t touch you. Please, go eat. We will treat you like a king.” One man said before closing the door in my face.
I wanted to say something back, but my words would have caused only more pain. So, I returned to the table and ate. The meal was beautiful but ruined by the overly friendly stares of the villagers, each one cheering a little whenever I took a bite.
As the weeks passed, I learned to live in my little prison, getting them to bring me books and other wares to pass the time. I had tried to escape at first, but escape was impossible. The villagers were only interested in my survival, constantly monitoring me. Whenever one needed to return to their farm or stall, another would take their place, ensuring I never had less than twenty villagers nearby.
The worst part was I couldn’t even speak to myself. I made a comment about a book I was reading and that caused them to frenzy, the villagers outside throwing fists again, only to eventually be calmed by my silence. I would have to live as a mute for as long as I was here. Still, at least I knew who caused my condition.
During one of the villager book runs, I received a book that was far different from the usual ones the villagers would bring. It was littered with slang and references to the world I had come from. It explained a bunch of facts about this world, informing me that high levelled players could share their experience with new players and that they had kindly gifted me a bunch of charisma points. I found it hard enough to believe someone else from my world was here, let alone someone that would sabotage me. Well, I couldn't believe it until I read the last line.
‘Love, the Dark Lord!’
So, some psychopath had come to this world and decided to be a villain instead? Was he afraid I would ruin his fun? I had to accept my defeat for now. I couldn’t do anything in these circumstances, but he had given me a chance to turn the odds in my favor. All I needed to do was somehow find a new player before they did.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
SirPiecemaker
|
sadnesslaughs
|
2023-01-06 17:24:05
|
2023-01-06 15:39:34
| 715 | 108 |
j37v8ft
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j37e5ab
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104txuo
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104txuo
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[WP] You squealed as the heroes unmasked and kissed in front of the roaring crowds. Wait…you recognize their faces…that’s YOUR best friend and YOUR girlfriend/boyfriend.
|
(TW: Gore and torture...but seriously did you expect anything less?)
"AHHHHH!" Lady Blanche screamed, a knife twisting into her gut, a knife made of a gray, hardened crystal, Lonsdaleite, the only material strong enough to pierce her skin.
"Does it hurt?" *Caesar, the new supervillain in the city laughed maniacally, digging the knife deeper* "Oh how I just *love* hearing a whore scream!" *He continued cackling*
"GET THE HELL OFF OF HER!" Gold bolt, the speedster hero, shouted as he ran at full speed, grabbing the villain, who only smirked, confusing the speedster, before he felt his legs go numb as something poked his thigh.
The golden hero fell flat on his face, unable to move anything in his body, having gone into a state of physical paralysis, Caesar landing with little difficulty on the ground.
"Aww, what's wrong? Are your legs tired?" He taunted the golden masked hero, crouching in front of him as Lady Blanche struggled to pull out the knife, her healing factor having locked the weapon deep in her gut, the flesh grew around it.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you" Caesar said to her, stepping on Gold Bolt to cross to her "One wrong move and the poison in the handle of the knife will release, and don't think I just used any random poison, Dearie, I know you're immune" he smirked, then frowned as he dusted off his roman inspired armor "Tch, you ruined my clothes, I really liked this outfit.
"You really think this knife will stop me?" Lady Blanche said "No matter what poison you used, I'll just-" Suddenly, her eyes widened as a gasp escaped her mouth.
"Oh I know, your body may be immune, but your mind isn't" Caesar smirked, before watching Lady Blanche fall to her knees, screaming in agony, thrashing and howling on the floor.
Gold bolt could only watch, his body limp, only in control of his eyes.
"You wanna know how I did that? Hmm? Hmm?" Caesar taunted him, before sitting on top of the hero, using him as a chair "The mind is a fickle thing, the skin may be impenetrable, your body may have a resistance or outright immunity to poison, but if the mind believes something, even when it can't hurt you, you'll feel the pain" He chuckled, as Blache continued screaming, her blonde hair splayed on the floor, still clutching at the gray, crystal knife embedded in her dirtied white outfit, trying to pull it out.
"Now, onto you" He turned to the man he was currently using as a bench "Now to take care of your legs" Caesar got up, going to a bad he had nearby, before pulling out an electric chainsaw "Try not to move, m'kay? Oh wait, you can't" Caesar cackled, before he activated the chainsaw, and began cutting.
Tears fell from Gold Bolt's eyes, rivers upon rivers of agony-filled tears as his paralyzed body was forced to experience to excruciatingly painful procedure of having his legs cut, his mouth slacked open, yet no scream could come out.
Caesar whistled, slightly frowning as he cut into the bones, but eventually, both of Gold Bolt's legs were cut off.
"There we go, now for the bleeding" He smirked "I'm not letting you die, at least yet" He said, pulling out a torch and some bandages, setting onto the task of cauterizing the amputated legs, all while gold bolt was awake, then bandaging them "There, the annoyance is dealt with, no running for you anymore, Mr.Slow Bolt"
Caesar suddenly felt something graze his cheek, as the crystal knife he used on Lady Blanche sailed next to his face.
"Ouch, that smarts" he said calmly, turning around to see Lady Blanche, her pure white and gold outfit covered in blood, and her golden blonde hair full of dirt.
"You...fucking monster" She panted, wincing in pain, every fiber of her being feeling as if she was burning alive, yet she persisted.
"Now now, no need for cussing madam, we are civilized people here" Caesar said tauntingly, pulling out his gun "Your aim has gotten worse dear, still feeling pain I take it?" He said, watching her grit her teeth "I'll take that as a yes"
"Bullets can't pierce me" She said, trying to step forward.
Caesar chuckled, before he took aim and shot her in the thigh.
Pain, white hot searing pain, even more than the one she felt, filled her nervous system, as she grabbed her thigh and screamed again.
Caesar smirked "Correction: *normal* bullets can't pierce you, you didn't *really* think I only made a Lonsdaleite knife, did you?"
"How...can you have so much" she struggled "It's one of the rarest and most expensive materials of all time, almost non can-Agh!-be found naturally on earth"
"Correct, but when you have enough money? Anything can work, besides, who says I didn't make my own?"
"What?" Lady Blanche said "It's impossible, no device on earth can make-"
"Are you *really* going to argue with me about how I can make Lonsdaleite? When you're bleeding out on the floor?" He said "From three holes?"
"Three? You only hurt me twi-"
*BANG!*
"AAAAAHHHH!" She screamed again, a third crystal bullet entering her other thigh, rendering both legs useless.
"Oh I'm so enjoying this" he said "Now, how about we all drop our masks? You two seem to enjoy making out, no? Ever since...three years ago? I think? That's when you first kissed in public, no?"
"Why...ngh...do you care?" She asked.
"Well, It was the day I learned my own girlfriend was having an affair with my best friend behind my back"
"I don't care..." she panted "About your pathetic life story, or your pathetic relatio-" Lady Blanche was cut off by Caesar stomping on her head "I wasn't done talking" he said.
"That day, oh how vividly I remember it" He chuckled, pushing her head down into the dirt. "You see, I believed everything was perfect in my life, a high paying job, a best friend I thought of as a brother, and a beautiful girlfriend I bought an expensive ring to propose to, but then, I go to watch my two favorite heroes fight their usual bad guys, I enjoy the fight, and then, they take off their masks and what do you know, there they are, my own best friend, and my girlfriend, kissing like long time lovers"
Blanche's eyes widened, staring up at the black-and-purple armored roman villain, his gladiator helmet obscuring his face, yet two, hate-filled purple eyes stared down at her.
"No...you're dead...the police found your body burnt in a villain attack on our house" She muttered, not believing her eyes.
"Oh I know, say, did you find it odd that both your brother AND your boyfriend dissapeared on the same day? The same day they both went on a trip together?"
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[POEM]
Amongst the gush of impossible love,
Standing there was Mr Frale,
With a pale heart and an empty squeal,
He wandered back home wondering if,
He hasn't serenaded about her eyes,
And the allure they bring in his weak life,
Or do strong bodies have pulp for a heart,
And why didn't she wonder, that woman,
That even if he couldn't swim in the clouds,
He had learned to laugh, Mr Frale.
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_Tyrondor_
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Warm_24
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2024-07-25 09:07:02
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2024-07-24 19:28:05
| 128 | 22 |
leuefaa
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ler9dkp
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1eb9o1b
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1eb9o1b
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[WP] "how can you have HIM as an apprentice! He is too soft!" "Exactly! He's the only one I trained that isn't a power hungry psychopath."
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Ambrian scowled at his old mistress, Zolzara, and the cringing boy beside her. The young apprentice wizard stood so close to his teacher that he was practically clinging to the old woman's robes like a child to his mother's skirts, avoiding the slightly older young man's gaze. Zolzara, on the other hand, matched her former apprentice's expression with a scowl of her own, meeting his eyes with a cold, haughty gaze.
*"That* is your new apprentice, mistress?" Ambrian said, gesturing to the lad. The curly-haired boy cringed back, as if Ambrian had flung a spell at him. "Seriously?"
"Mynthen is *sensitive."* Zolzara said, lifting her chin, and stepping to the side to put more of herself between Ambrian and the boy. "That is not a quality to be scorned in a wizard."
"He's *soft."* Ambrian replied, flatly.
"Exactly!" Zolzara spat. "He is soft. And gentle! And kind! He's the only apprentice I've ever trained that hasn't been a *power-hungry psychopath!"*
Ambrian scoffed. "This again? Every man who can lift a spear is called to defend the kingdom at need! If a humble farmer with no martial skill rises to protect his nation with only a crude pike in his hands, how can someone who is able to command fire and lightning refuse to do the same?"
"Fire and lightning -- which you rain down on men who lack even a spark of magic with which to defend themselves!" Zolzara retorted.
"That I rain down on *wildland hordesmen,"* Ambrian corrected, sharply, jabbing a finger at Zolzara. "Pitiless raiders, who would rob, rape, and murder their way through our homeland if I did not stop them!" Mynthen gasped at this, and cringed further behind his mistress.
"Enough!" Zolzara snapped, slashing her hand through the air. "You're not my apprentice anymore, so I cannot stop you from debasing yourself to the level of the squabbling mundane lords around you. But I *will not* have you speak of your folly before my new apprentice, not while I still have hope that I can make a decent wizard out of him. Begone from here, Ambrian. You are no longer welcome in my tower!"
Ambrian gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring, but Zolzara met his angry gaze unwaveringly.
"Very well, *mistress,"* he snarled. He whirled around without another word, vanishing into thin air before he had taken three steps. When he was gone, Mynthen stepped away from Zolzara, and looked up at her timidly.
"W-why was he so angry, mistress?" Mynthen stammered.
Zolzara sighed, and shook her head. "His temperament was always too aggressive. But in a sense, this is my fault. The first thing a good teacher must be able to determine is *whom* they should teach. I failed in that. I should never have taught him magic. I suppose I thought I could mold him, change him...but his arcane power has only made his natural inclinations even more pronounced."
"Well, I...I think you're a very good teacher, mistress." Mynthen said, hesitantly.
She smiled at him. "Thank you, dear. And you are a fine student." She placed a wrinkled hand on his shoulder. "So remember this lesson: it is not a bad thing, to be soft. *Be* soft. Be gentle. Don't let yourself be tainted by the brutality of this world, Mynthen."
Mynthen nodded soberly. "Yes, mistress."
"Good lad." She reached into her pouch and handed him a few silver coins. "Here, why don't you go down into the town? We need some more tea. Buy what you like with what's left."
"Yes mistress!" he said eagerly, "Thank you!" Then he dashed off excitedly, with Zolzara smiling fondly after him.
/././././
After buying the bag of tea from the apothecary, Mynthen bought himself a caramel covered apple, which he crunched contentedly as he walked. He almost dropped the treat, as a pair of other boys playing at some rowdy game jostled him as they sprinted past. A tiny spark of annoyance flared up inside him, but he quickly smothered it, as he'd learned to do long ago.
Especially now that he'd begun to learn magic, to have power of his own, he thought that it was wrong to let yourself get angry. Better to be calm, to be soft and gentle, like Mistress Zolzara had said. He passed a pair of merchants arguing animatedly on the street, and frowned as one of them threw down his hat in consternation, and got right up in the face of the other. So *aggressive!* These were supposed to be ordinary men, not warriors or soldiers. If even supposedly peaceful folk were so angry and mean, it was no wonder the world could be such an awful place at times.
Casually, he reached out with his power, softly muttering an incantation. He prodded gently at the parts of their minds that caused the argument. They felt hot and prickly to his mental touch.
Then, he made a quick gesture with his caramel apple, and *tore those parts out.*
The men immediately relaxed, and their eyes softened, gaining a beautiful glass-like quality. Their mouths turned upward in faint smiles, and the one who'd thrown his hat on the ground looked down at it vacantly, picked it up, and donned it again. Then the merchants simply lost interest in each other, and walked away in opposite directions, looking placid and cheerful, if a bit unsteady on their feet.
It wasn't stealing, what he'd done. It wasn't *wrong,* not really. That was another thing he'd learned long ago. Before Mistress Zolzara took him in, he'd lived on the streets, and rarely had enough to eat. One day, he'd snatched some bread from a baker's stall when he was desperately hungry, while the plump little woman running it was distracted. Unfortunately, she'd turned back just in time to witness the theft. He'd frozen in fear when her eyes met his, and just stood there, dirty and bedraggled, guiltily clutching the little brown loaf.
But she hadn't shouted at him, or called for the guards. Her eyes had welled up with tears as she saw him, and she'd smiled at him kindly, before making a discreet shooing motion, and then going about her business as though she hadn't noticed him. He'd run away, but strangely he hadn't felt like a thief. That was when he'd realized it: taking something that wasn't yours wasn't stealing, or wrong, as long as the person you took it from was *happy* after you did it.
The merchants weren't happy before, but now that he'd taken the aggressive, angry parts of their minds away, they were. That meant he'd done something kind for them, and that was what magic was truly meant for: being kind to people. He felt a little tired afterwards, but that was alright -- he'd suffered through far greater weariness, before Mistress Zolzara found him. Besides, as he practiced more and more, it got less and less tiring.
He turned to head back to Zolzara's tower, glancing around at the townsfolk he passed as he went on his way. Thanks to him, more than a few of them looked like the two merchants: they had peaceful little smiles, and those beautifully glassy eyes. Some of the others, ones he hadn't helped yet, seemed worried about the way those people acted, finding it strange, but Mynthen figured they just weren't used to happiness. And why would they be? The world *was* a brutal place, after all.
But that was alright, too; Mynthen was learning and growing stronger all the time. Soon, he'd be able to take all their worries away.
|
“Exactly! He’s the only one I trained that isn’t a power hungry psychopath!” Master Wippul said.
Linus squinted his eyes, his lips forming a straight line.
“I’ll give you one opportunity to apologize.” Linus said.
“Apologize for what?” Master Wippul said. “The truth?”
“Like the gentleman I am, I’ll offer one final opportunity to not disgrace yourself, Wippul.” Linus said, his wand fluttering into his grip.
“You heard me, boy.” The Master said.
Linus moved first, caving in the roof above Wippul. A shimmering orb of energy surrounded Wippul, shielding him from the falling building.
Master Wippul responded with a bolt of pure heat, a particular trick he enjoyed.
Linus interposed with a physical shield, composed of some metallic alloy.
This demonstrated why Master Wippul loved this attack so much, as he had invented it himself.
You see, he viewed heat in terms of the worlds wiggliness. Wigglier items are hotter. An item that wiggled not at all would be at absolute zero, the coldest temperature.
Thus, Linus shield did not stop anything, the bolt of heat transferred the wiggliness to the shield, then the air behind it, and finally to Linus’ internal organs, chiefly his heart and subclavian veins.
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SilasCrane
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None
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2023-04-20 19:16:19
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2023-04-20 17:33:44
| 580 | 95 |
jh1u9cz
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jh1etr6
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12t6jl6
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12t6jl6
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[WP]As a nerd,you always got bullied by a classmate.After a few years,your appearance became more appealing and masculine.You went on a blind date and were surprised to find out that your bully was your date, and she happened to be shy and didn't recognise you.You decided to go along with the date.
|
I waited before the restaurant.
I have a blind date here, and I am really curious whom I shall meet, as my colleagues she's "perfect" for me.
As I waited, someone tapped me on the shoulder.
"Hi...Are you Dan?", she asked.
She was this petite woman, shyly glancing at me, fidgeting.
I froze.
I recognized her...she...she was the bully who always picked on me in school.
I took a deep breath and smiled.
"Yes, Sophie I presume?", I said.
She nodded.
"Let's go then, please.", I said, opening the door to the restaurant for her.
She might have whispered a thank you, but I wasn't sure.
I decided to go along with the date...it's been a decade after all.
We went in and ordered, before starting to talk,
At first, it was a bit awkward, and she was clearly feeling weird, but soon we talked more and more about movies, books we have read.
We get to talk about our friends, and jobs as well.
"Y-yeah...
Sorry if I am a bit weird...I am not really used to going out, and if my best friend didn't take such a fierce stance, I might have bailed...", she said laughing slightly.
I smiled, thinking how time can change someone.
She used to be bigger than me, rowdy, and violent.
She used to throw me around, and take my stuff...
Now, she was shorter than me, and unable to make eye contact.
What on Earth has happened in these years?
And why can't I stop smiling?
"Sophie, wanna see a movie?", I asked, as our date at the restaurant was ending.
She nodded slightly, and I paid the bill, and left.
The past is in the past, and my colleagues might be right...this date was much more enjoyable than I expected.
|
The Greatness that Flies, the Ever-Hungering Wyrm and the Flaming Wisdom (Flameo to his friends) landed next to me with a tremendous thud. Mounds of treasure, carefully sorted and piled for maximum comfort fell over. His gigantic tail swung this way and that, demolishing a small too-scale model of the castle with some suggestions for defense improvements worked out. I peeled my lips back revealing a thousand dagger-sharp teeth in an involuntary grimace. I kinda hated my boss.
"Bob," Flameo said, "We need too talk. There have been a few...well...a few complaints lately about your work."
"Is this about the interest rates?" I hazarded.
The Greatness sighed, "well, it's not not about the interest rates."
A few weeks prior the King had come to pay his monthly tribute and receive the sacred knowledge of ancient draconic ways. I'd told him that the kingdom was underdeveloped and he needed to loan out more money to the merchants at cheaper rates to fund increased business investment. It hadn't gone well.
"Look, Bob," my boss said, "I want to be clear that I think you're doing a great job, a really great job and everyone back at the Guild of Draconic Advisors and Consultants is really interested in your innovations. But well, when you try something new, sometimes the clients are caught off guard a bit. Maybe we can talk through a couple of your recent choices and see about how we can align your strengths with the King's needs and synergize a bit here."
Deep within my stomach, the ever-burning ember of dragonfire began to heat up. I took a few cooling breaths of damp cold cave air to to try to cool it off. I hoped I wasn't steaming, that'd be too embarrassing.
"I don't quite know what the complaint is about," I responded carefully, "since I took over as Dragon Advisor to the ancient and new kingdoms of Thom and Tham, I've had 5 quarters of consistent success. We've diversified the economy, while increasing agricultural yields."
"Right...right, so let's talk through that last set of advice alright? The King came with his court to pay tribute to your majesty and beg of your wisdom, and you told him he should switch the fields nearest the mountainside to a four crop rotation instead of three, because the soil was showing signs of degradation."
"And I was right! It worked."
"Well, yes," the Ever-Hungerer said, "but it wasn't really draconic, if you know what I mean."
I pretended not to know what he meant and gave a shake of my mighty and scaled neck to show it.
"It's just, couldn't you have given it as something like," here he paused and thought for a minute, "something like, 'you must let the land beneath the great rock sleep more, lest the desert wakes.' That sort of thing?"
"But he could've misinterpreted that," I argued, "he might've thought that I meant he had to abandon the northern region in order to avoid an invasion from the desert for example. And that would've been disastrous for the kingdom's trade. We need that border open."
"It's not our fault if the client can't understand the advice we give," Flameo said with an ash filled sigh. "We just have to do the best we can and let the little humans figure out the rest."
"But I didn't need to let them figure out the rest. I just told them. It was easy."
"Right, right," my boss agreed, "and that was lovely, but what if you'd been wrong?"
"So I should give cryptic advice, just so that if things go wrong I won't be blamed? Even for avaricious wyrms older than words that seems a bit cynical."
"No, no it's not cynical, it's just well, why do you think that kingdoms have draconic advisors? Why shell out the gold for the hoard-"
He cut his remarks off as he noticed that instead of piling everything into a huge (and hugely uncomfortable) pile of treasure to sleep on, I'd carefully arranged several smaller piles that provided better support. For a moment I thought he was going to remark on it, but evidentially he decided to let it go. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"Don't they pay us to give good advice?" I finally put forward hoping against hope that this interview might be drawing to a close.
"Well, yes and no."
Oh for flame's sake, I thought to myself.
"You see Bob, and we should talk about the Bob you really need a better name, humans have lots and lots of other humans to advise them. Your average ruler can't get out of bed and dress in the morning without three or four people showing up to give suggestions. Some of them are probably even good suggestions. No, what we provide for our clients is a more specialized service we give them some drama."
"Drama? Like a performance?" I did not like where this was going.
"Yes, like a performance. Your King gets up on the first day of the second week of each month, puts himself and all his court in their finest regalia and marches through the city to the mountain where the great beast lives. There he stands before his trembling subjects and dares to come forward and beseech the horrible fire dragon, who might devour him in a single bite-"
"I'd never!" I interrupted horrified.
"Please allow me to continue, before all the court and any townsmen who have found the bravery in their soul to make the dire trek-"
(One of the first things I'd advised the King to do was to develop the roads more and implement standing guards to ensure the safety of commerce, so the trek wasn't particularly dire. I did not think Flameo wanted to hear this.)
"the King approaches you seemingly without fear and offers up a small token of his esteem and asks only in return that you share some wisdom with him. Now tell me honestly Bob, do you think at this moment the King wants an economic lecture? With graphs and pie charts and differential analysis? Do you think that's what his subjects came all this way to see?"
I thought about it.
"No?" I asked.
"No." The Ever-Hungerer affirmed, "they want a show. They want to feel like they're in the presence of ancient wisdom from before the time of man. They want to feel scared and daring. They want to think their King is brave-unto-foolishness. They want to be entertained. So you give the King some cryptic wisdom to take back to his wisest men to consider and maybe shoot a few fireballs into the air and complain about the quality of the tribute. That sort of thing. Make people feel involved. Don't just lecture them."
"But what if I have really good advice to give them?"
"Well...if you really care, you can always slip a coin to some urchin to go down around to the castle with a note that says, 'Dear King-y, this is what I really meant, ect,' but don't do that too often, ruins the mystique. Besides they want to feel clever for having figured it out themselves."
Our conversation was interrupted by a clanking sound. We turned our snake-like heads to watch a knight clinging and clanging his way down the corridor in full armor. Armor that because it was designed to be worn on horseback was considerably too heavy to walk in. The result was that over a fascinating period of about 10 minutes the knight would move a few steps, setting off a dreadful lot of noise, then have to pause to catch his breath. Every now and then a terrified looking squire ran up to supply him some water and oil a few joints.
Finally, the knight made his way into the chamber and with great effort managed to unsheathe a sword and shield without toppling over. After having accomplished that, he turned to us and yelled...something completely unintelligible through his closed visor.
(Continued below)
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TheWanderingBook
|
ResponsibleHistory53
|
2024-05-24 10:31:32
|
2023-12-02 18:49:33
| 56 | 24 |
l5g9x5w
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kbpojp9
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1czh86n
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188jeot
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[WP] The dragon spoke, "Release my human, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself."
|
‘More tea, Frilon?’
INDUBITABLY. OHOHOHO…
“I knew it!”
‘Oh shit, Frilon!’
WHO DARES ENTER THE LAIR OF THE MIGHTY-
“Drop the act, I knew you two were up to something.”
(I THINK HE KNOWS)
‘(He could be bluffing. Do the usual)’
“Woah! Oi, stop that.”
DO NOT DODGE THE TAILSWIPES TO THE LEFT, UGLY KNIGHT.
“Princess! This is getting old. Come down from that tower and go back to the palace.”
‘Never! Im waiting for the knight of my dreams!’
“This is the fourth time this season I’m working on a Sunday. I’ve been slaying demons for the whole week and you’ve ruined me time at *ye olde bathhouse and spa*. Get down before I go up there.”
HAVE ONE OF THE WORTHY KNIGHTS COME, LIKE THAT UH, GOOBYGOCK-
‘Goldenlocks’
GOLDENLOCKS!
“Listen here, drake. You know why the king sent me instead of Sir Goldenlocks or Baron Cleanshave? Because- look at this boulder- **SMASH** This is what they’ll do to you if they’re on the job.”
(MARGOT? I DON’T WANT TO PLAY ANYMORE)
‘Y-you’re just jealous because you want my hand in marriage.’
“I have a wife and three kids, you…r majesty. I have a stable job that pays well and a plot of land ready for my retirement. All I ask is that you and your *friend* play *imaginary hero rescue* on the weekdays, preferably during work hours.”
(WHAT DO YOU THINK?)
(‘We’ll still have Sneaky Saturday’)
“I can hear you, you know.”
|
Apparently, "Heroing Without A License" is a capital offense in the Country of Blister. Emerald wished he'd known that last week, before he rushed into the burning hotel to save the crying girl. Emerald still would've saved her; he simply would've paid the five gold pieces first.
However, he hadn't paid, and now he was facing execution. The girl he'd saved was even forced to testify against him. She'd praised Emerald at the trial; she'd even looked Emerald in the eyes and thanked him for saving her life. Unfortunately, the prosecutor had used the girl's testimony against him, and the judge had no choice but to rule "Guilty as charged."
Emerald had tried to offer payment for his deed. However, the law was clear. It didn't matter that Emerald was able to pay for the license after the fact. It didn't matter that Emerald was from the Country of Dragonbreath. Diplomatic immunity wasn't offered in Blister. The judge cited precedent and various case laws, basically saying, "We set the license price high because we don't want inexperienced people to foolishly try heroing and get themselves killed. Nor do we want to be responsible for unvetted outsiders coming in, getting themselves killed, and having to deal with an angry international bureaucrat."
Essentially, Blister was making an example out of Emerald, to let other kingdoms and countries know "we mean business."
The execution date was set for one week after the trial. Dragonbreath was notified, merely as a courtesy. This was Blister's blunder. Emerald was married to a dragoness, and when she heard that her Mate was to be executed over "a mere scrap of paper," she was...displeased.
So, when Is'ti'ti crash landed on the wall and began bellowing burning blasphemies before Blister's bishops, Emerald wasn't surprised.
"Release my human hunny-bunny, and we will leave you all in peace. Do not, and I will reduce your walls to rubble to rescue them myself!"
Blister's bishops quicky conferred. They solemnly summoned the judge. After all, he was the one who gave sentence; the bishops preferred to be in the background.
The judge stood before Is'ti'ti, and he tried to summon his courage. In his courtroom, the judge ruled. Before this dragon, however, the only power he had was that of his office...which wasn't anything Is'ti'ti cared about.
"Lady dragon, I am confused. Our nation holds no prisoner of your concern, I assure you."
Is'ti'ti scowled. "You are 'holding' our **HUSBAND,** who you have promised to KILL today." Smoke began rising from Is'ti'ti's nostrils, a sure sign that her rage was being kindled.
Upon hearing the word "husband," the judge became disgusted. "No human would marry a dragon! No self-respecting man would ever be such a deviant! Such a thing would be against every moral codex ever written!" As the judge finished, the bishops all nodded in agreement.
Is'ti'ti smirked; she knew how to deal with these types. With a small click of her claws, she initiated a spell she had crafted, and she transformed from draconic into humanoid form.
To label her humanoid form beautiful would be a massive understatement. Her humanoid form stood a dominating eight feet tall. Her reddish golden skin shimmered in the sunlight. Firey red hair draped her back like a cloak of burning coals. Her eyes glistened like the purest diamonds of her hoard.
Is'ti'ti's smirk only grew larger as she approached the judge. "I can assure you, there **are** members of your race who **would** be so devious. I can certainly smell *your* response to seeing us in this form. And you're resisting your own urges as We speak."
Is'ti'ti placed a hand on the judges shoulder and **gripped.** Her sultry smirk changed into raging fury in an instant. "Now bring our husband here before we turn this wall into an ASH HEAP!"
Is'ti'ti flung the judge with a flick of her wrist. Just because she was in humanoid form didn't mean she was weak! The judge sailed backwards through the air, crashing into the bishops like a ball into bowling pins. However, with his adrenaline spiking, he managed to retort.
"Your scoundrel of a husband is within our walls!" The judge cried, going momentarily insane. "If you burn our walls to ash, he will burn along with them! Either way, OUR law will prevail!"
The judge started laughing like a maniac. Apparently he wasn't suited to be a bowling ball. Is'ti'ti sighed. The normal method wouldn't work, apparently.
Meanwhile, from his vantage point in his cell, Emerald could see everything happening on the wall. He tried sending mental transmissions to Is'ti'ti, but she was too far away. All Emerald could do was wait. He smiled, knowing that he would have quite a pleasant evening. Is'ti'ti always became frisky after transforming and expending magic. Emerald would always joke to Is'ti'ti that she was actually part succubus, to which she would just smirk and toss him into their bed.
Back on the wall, the judge had passed out from too much mental gymnastics. Is'ti'ti cast two spells. The first caused her to start hovering. The second caused the stones in the wall to start hovering as they separated from each other.
Is'ti'ti eyed the bishops. "Now. Will you bring us our husband? Or will I have to dismantle this city stone by stone?"
The bishops fled in a panic. They were simply too frightened to do anything else. Is'ti'ti groaned. This was going to take awhile.
Several hours, and many self-righteous guards later, Is'ti'ti reached the jail where Emerald was being held. The jailer, a dutiful man, spoke to Is'ti'ti.
"I'm afraid I can't let you just walk in here and take him." The jailer pointed at Emerald. "I think it's ridiculous to sentence a man to death for rescuing a young girl from a burning building. In fact, she was my own daughter! However, I cannot shirk my duty to guard this man."
Is'ti'ti looked at the jailer. He was still a younger man, though old enough to reasonably have a daughter of twelve. Is'ti'ti thought for a moment, then asked, "And what are we supposed to do? Just let your rulers kill our hunny-bunny, just because your rulers have some ridiculous law?"
The jailer merely shrugged. "I'm merely a humble jailer. I have a duty to perform. Though, I suppose you have one as well. Besides, the walls here, at least what's left of them, are known to have ears." The jailer positioned himself into a fighting stance with an obvious opening.
Is'ti'ti didn't miss the cue. She rushed forward and cast a sleeping spell on the jailer. As he slumped, she caught him, careful to not allow his head to hit the floor. She then broke Emerald's shackles and kissed him deeply. After it, Is'ti'ti scolded Emerald gently.
"You could've helped, you know."
Emerald chuckled. "I know. But I enjoy watching your theatrics almost as much as you enjoy doing them. And don't try to deny it." Emerald caressed Is'ti'ti's humanoid ears, sending shudders through her.
Is'ti'ti gently bopped Emerald on the back of the head as she caressed his back. "You really **are** a deviant. **Our** deviant. But this is neither the time nor the place. She whispered in Emerald's ear, "But there **is** a place."
Without another word, Is'ti'ti and Emerald left Blister. They went back to Is'ti'ti's home, and proceeded to know each other very well for the next three days.
|
hatabou_is_a_jojo
|
Pokerfakes
|
2025-01-13 03:24:23
|
2023-01-28 22:26:53
| 101 | 23 |
m6v3i2c
| null |
1hzzhzi
|
10nb6cj
|
[WP] You didn't even try to escape the time loop. Instead, you became a master artist, discovered three new mathematical theorems, and trained yourself to be immune to pain. The fae that was trying to teach you a lesson is understandably upset.
|
***Mortal.***
"My name is Keith, dude, we spoke about this. Just calling me 'mortal' is pretty rude." I sigh and turn to look at my captor. "What can I help you with today, anyway."
***You expect my courtesy? Mortal, you are my prisoner here, not my guest.***
"Yeah, fine, whatever. Look man, did you just come to gloat? I have a Soufflé in, and I really think I've got it right this time, so I am a little busy right now."
***Soufflé?*** the Fae looks perplexed, caught off guard. ***Mortal, I have you at my mercy, trapped within a single day. You are doomed to an unfeeling eternity, repeating for ever. Does this not fill you with despair? Nine-score years and five you have spent confined to this one day, never able to form any lasting bonds with those around you, for their memories are washed clean with the rising sun. Do you not wish to know how you might break free?***
"Not particularly. It gave me time to work on self improvement."
***You are not meant to be happy with this, Mortal, and you are most assuredly not meant to be working on your Soufflé. Why do you not Toil to break free?*** the Fae sighs wearily. ***My torment was meant to teach you a Lesson.***
"And with the time you gave me, I've learned several."
|
The azure blue of the sky out the window was the same blue it always was when she woke to the sound of the same vibrant bird song every morning. How many mornings had she been here? She no longer cared about what was passed only what was to come with the unfading blue of the morning. The sun would shine always the same no storms, not snow, no clouds just a vast sea of blue with six small white puffs on the horizon.
Stretching and reaching for the silk robe she had just finished making the week before. Tidying up her bed humming quietly and headed for the small kitchen nook to make breakfast and start her day. The day when she would finally finish the work she had started so long ago, so many tries, so many fails, but this time.
It was while she was heating the water for tea she noticed one of the small puffs moving towards the small cottage. Knowing what was on the way she added two extra scoops of mint to the mornings tea. She knew the cooling herb would help her nerves and stomach stay settled and prevent the physical reaction to her visitor. Taking her homegrown supplies from the cupboard jam, honey, butter and clotted cream she set the table for two. Wishing once again that the day would not have been disturbed by the unexpected expected guest on today of all days it was just too exasperating for words.
Checking around the room to make sure all was neatly tidied up, with everything put away where it belonged, flowers on the table, tea steeping. With a breath she opened the door and stepped out into the growing shade cast by the approaching cloud watching as it approached the cliff face. As the cloud brushed the rock face a tall slender man leapt across the small gap and landed lightly on the soft green grass, shading his violet eyes and stared directly at her with the piercing gaze that he always used. Without waving she turned and went around to back of the house, she had chores to do.
Why today she grumbled as she let the chickens and ducks out of their coop and gathered the eggs still warm from the nests and the one that was always hidden behind the feed pail. Filling the feeders, checking for fresh water in their bowls, she headed back to the house scattering a few handfuls of feed on the ground for the flock to peck at. Stopping only o turn the water on for her small garden drip watering system she took a deep breath and headed towards the door of the cottage.
There he was pouring the tea, and looking at the oil painting she was working on, poking through the papers on the old oak rolltop desk with a slightly she felt disgusted look on his face. She was not sure what she had done this time but she started mentally bracing herself as she poured her own cup of tea. With quiet efficiency she set the eggs on to boil for so her guest would be given his expected meal before the day's ordeal was to really begin. He sat himself at the table watching every move she made, she could feel his eyes on her body like claws raking across the silk of the robe she was still wearing. So excusing herself she went to the bedroom and changed to her day's skirt and blouse. She was thankful once again that there was no need for the layers of petticoats, hoops, corsets and over coats here on the island that had become her whole world. Turning around to join the man in the other room she was angered to find him standing in the doorway smiling sardonically watching her undress.
Steeling herself she brushed by him and headed to the main room. "So did you enjoy the show?" she asked, as she took the eggs off the heat and set them up on the table.
"Always" came the lazy drawl from the man. Sitting at the table waiting for the her to serve him, but this morning in a fit of pique she buttered the toast and put jam all over it for herself. He sighed and picked up his own piece of toast and started to crunch it dry, not even butter but the man always was a prig. She sipped her tea silently not giving the man any opening that he did not create himself for the conversation that was to come. Tapping the top of her egg and dipping the corner of a slice of toast in it she heard him rise and clear his throat.
Here it comes the talk. Clearing his voice he started to to talk using all the techniques of persuasion both magick and non magick explaining once again why she was wrong and why he was in the right. Why she should just give in to his demands. Why would she not give into his demands? Shouting down the birds when dared to sing by the window while he was talking, cajoling, begging and stating his case as to her many transgressions both real and imagined. The one sided conversation went on for about an hour and at the end of it he slumped into the overstuffed chair by the fireplace glaring at her. For her part she had finished her breakfast, started clearing the table, and washing up the breakfast dishes.
When the tirade had ran itself out, she turned and looked at the man. She took in his long lean body slung over the chair, his deep violet eyes, shaggy blonde hair almost covering his pointed ears that told the world he was Fae and sighed. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily walking slowly to the window looking out across the expanses of blue to the far shore only known to be there because of the white puffs anchored to it. That was supposed to be part of the punishment she knew that it was there, she could go and join the gleaming dazzlements of court, or laugh with friends in one of the many places of revelry that glittered like jewels in the dark, so many temptations, so many little luxuries and it would all be hers if.
If she would only say the words but she did not want to. She would not break down and give in she could not not now. After so long with so much she had created and learned, she no longer wanted to go back to the lights and noise not if the cost was going to be so high. The curse when placed had seemed a punishment but now it seemed more like a reprieve a blessing even a place of peace. She turned to look into those violet eyes smiling softly and holding her hands out to the man. The man rose and approached her taking her hands a faint hope coming over his face as he did, but fading when he looked into her clear blue eyes.
You won't go back will you?" he asked. " No I won't. I am sorry but no I will never marry him and you will have to go and tell him again. I hope he is not cruel to you this time, maybe tell him I was miserable it will make him happier." I replied looking out the window towards the shore of the land that I loved so dearly. As my captor headed back to the cloud at the edge of the cliff he took a small box out of the craft and left it on the edge as he left.
Walking up to the box she opened it to find a pair of small black and white faces looking up at her. Two small pygmy goats, she smiled and then remembered that he had mentioned wanting her to learn to make cheese so that there would be something for his toast.
|
Darius_Blake
|
Binasgarden
|
2023-03-26 17:36:23
|
2023-03-26 16:40:37
| 90 | 29 |
jdro622
|
jdrg72q
|
121xobs
|
121xobs
|
[WP] “Foolish dragon!” Proclaimed the knight. “My armor renders me immune to your flames!” “Foolish knight!” Sneered the dragon. “Not all dragons spit fire!”
|
"Alright then, what does thine mouth breathe, mighty dragon?" The Knight peered up at the dragon, resting both her hands on the pommel of her blade, the tip pointed down, inserted into the dirt. Her helmet hid her expression-- although if the dragon had to guess, it was likely one of undeserved cockiness. After all, that was the same expression all its enemies wore before it struck them down in an instant.
"Why, I spit icy cold frost of cour-!"
"Actually, I'm immune to that too." Stated the knight, bluntly.
"Oh. Well, what about electricity?"
"Yep. I actually have natural immunity to that one. Perk from a god."
"Surely you'll die to my explosive magic then-" And yet again, the knight interrupted. "Yeah, that too. Kind of weird how it only provides immunity to explosions *specifically* and not any other kinds of sudden physical forces."
"T-then you are implying you are *not* immune to normal physical force, yes?" The dragon was beginning to realize that it was in WAY over its head.
"No, but I am immune to melee attacks specifically. Again, kind of a weird distinction for the magic to make when you really think about it, but whatever."
The dragon thought this was complete horseshit.
"Listen," the Knight started, lifting their helmet to reveal an expression not of egotistical satisfaction, but of genuine empathy, "I 'll understand if you want to back out of this. Really. We don't have to fight."
At this, the dragon was taken aback. "Really? You think that I would so easily back down? I believe you have mistakenly assumed that I *want* to fight *anyone*. That you assume I find enjoyment in ending lives-- well, I do a little bit, but that's besides the point."
The dragon glared at the knight.
"I *have* to fight. I must. It is simply a matter of maintaining my livelihood. If I do not constantly expand my horde, others will come. Others of my kind will contest my place in the world. But even putting that aside, my pride as a dragon would not allow me to deny a challenge. If I am not strong enough to kill a simple human knight, then I am worth nothing."
The knight looked at the dragon with a certain sadness. Like they had seen this conversation play out before, so many times in the past. It caused the dragon to soften their gaze. She clearly understood. And yet this only angered it more.
"Do not look at me with such a pitiful gaze. You are not stronger than me! I was birthed from the deepest pits of the ninth circle of Lemeia, the caverns of the Old Ones. You are but a pitiable mortal!! YOU DARE TO MOCK ME?!" The dragon attacked the knight with their detachable claws, shooting them out at mach 23-
"Sorry, I'm immune to that too." The dragon turned to face the knight, who was now right next to their face. In the very next moment, the dragon was embedded in the cavern's wall. If it hadn't known better, it would have sworn that the knight, who had just now landed back on the floor, was observing the results of their attack with excited joy. Surely it was just the shock from the attack. Hoping to strike while the knight's guard was down, the dragon retaliated with a psychic assault, attempting to simultaneously pull apart and crush her. For a moment, it seemed to effect the knight, causing them to vibrate.
"Haha, that feels kind of weird," the knight said in a warble-y and distorted manner. The dragon stopped their attack. "Anyway, not immune to that stuff. Just highly resistant, I think. Maybe. Never been attacked like that before."
The dragon rushed the knight, trying every tool in its arsenal. Maybe sonic attacks will work, or light beams? Waves of chi? Necrosis? Pure magical spheres? Radiation? Polymorphic spells? Mind games?? Pressure points??? Spacial warping???? Throwing a rather large book????? Fucking *sealing magic*?!?!?!?!
"This is STUPID! This isn't FAIR!! What the ever-loving FUCK!!!!!! *SHIT!!!!!!!* What, are your best friends named Gary and Mary *fucking* Sue?!?!?!! How have the gods not intervened with this shit!!! Surely the God of Magic would have something to say about this!"
"Yeah, it's ridiculous, right?" the knight said softly, the same look of sadness-- no, no it wasn't sadness, not quite. Whatever emotion that the look from earlier betrayed, it was once again laid across her face. As she had done many times during its rush, the knight struck a devastating series of blows against the dragon with ease. And yet, for all the power she was putting into her blows, it knew she was holding back.
"Why?! *How?!?* How can I beat you? What am I lacking?! Speed?? Durability??? Strength??? Intellect?!? Versatility?!?! What!! **WHAT!!!***"
"Dude, stop being evil." The knight replied, clearly annoyed.
"Who the hell are you to tell me that *I'm* evil!! You, foolish adventurer that you are, barged into *my* home and assaulted *me*!! What the hell kind of 'good' is that?! What does good even mean to you? Why are you fighting me?! WHY DO YOU FIGHT?!"
The knight paused.
The knight thought.
The knight spoke.
^^"It's ^^fun." The knight said.
"what."
"I said it's fun!" The knight said slightly louder.
"No, I heard you the first time. I just don't believe you! You can't possibly get this strong from just a hobby, that's stupid!! You must have some righteous reason for fighting me! I can't accept that you did all of this just because you enjoy fighting!! You didn't even want to fight me at first!" The dragon looked expectantly at the knight.
The knight shrugged. "I mean, I did also come here to get you to stop stealing and murdering the locals, but mostly I just... like doing what I do. I don't like killing if I can help it, but I like the fighting and adventuring part itself."
"No... No, I can't accept that! You can't tell me that is your reason!! A motivation like that would never be able to stand up to evil like mine!" The dragon began to move forward, frustrated, motioning and pointing at the knight. "You're LYING. You could never become THIS strong like that! I am a fucking *DRAGON*, I am a demigod of the abyss, I have killed countle--"
"SHUT THE FUCK *UP*!" The knight shoved the dragon away, accidentally flinging it into a wall again. "Do you want to know why I am so strong? Because I enjoy what I do, and I never compromise on that enjoyment. You fight because you need to in order to survive. That only breeds exhaustion and a resentment of the task. It is a job to you. You will never go above and beyond unless it is absolutely essential to your survival. Your work is your entire life, and because of that, you will always compromise on your personal improvement. You will never reach your full potential."
**"You will never defeat me."**
At this the knight left, leaving the dragon a bloody mess. Stewing in its thoughts, the dragon realized two things:
1) The expression on the knight earlier that it could not quite place was one of boredom, not sadness.
2) It needs to get a hobby.
|
The dragon craned its neck and heaved. Its stomach bulged, pushing a bulbous mass up through its esophagus. The knight's sword trembled in his hand. And from the dragon's maw, poured a tidal wave of labrador puppies.
"Oh Gods, no. Anything but--"
*Hechoo*
The labrador legion crashed into the hills, toppling trees in their pudgy wake. The knight tried to run but it was of no use. His bones were pulverized under thousands of tiny paws though the worst was yet to come.
The sea of floppy ears parted. A ring of trampled grass separated him and his coming doom. Their eyes shimmered like marbles and radiated with a profound darkness. The puppies drew closer. Their tongues hanging in the wind.
The knight tried to cover his face but the infernal hounds did not care. They licked and licked his face. His throat swelled shut and he asphyxiated to death long before the puppies could finish him off.
"I *woof* mourn your death but--," the dragon smiled a little wider than he would have liked.
|
hussiesucks
|
TotallyTubularRoach
|
2023-06-01 17:33:03
|
2023-06-01 16:58:09
| 23 | 11 |
jmi418g
|
jmhyibl
|
13xd3x1
|
13xd3x1
|
[WP] A kid losing a video game, and getting their big brother to beat it for them, as seen from an npc's perspective
|
All had heard about the Dragonhearted, the young woman who saved her family’s farm from gigantic rats, who started on an adventure after some greybeard revealed a prophecy to her. Last month, Emric heard that she defeated a whole camp of goblin that was about to overtake her hometown. Sure, the green skins weren’t the hardiest of foes, but it was still an achievement for a single adventurer, and a novice at that. Then she made her way along the countryside, and every time he heard tale of her getting closer, he wondered if she’d ever get to them, and rid them of the demon.
Belpherius had brought Knightfall into his dominion centuries ago, back when Emric’s ancestors had been foolish enough to think demonology a wholesome career choice. The beast didn’t have an army, but standing ten feet tall with bat wings, skin like red leather, horns fit to skewer three men standing in a line, and wielding a flame-wrapped axe, it remained undefeated to this day. But rumors said that the Dragonhearted could not be killed, or rather that she wouldn’t stay dead for long, and so he hoped. And when finally, she made it to Knightfall, he realized that the rumors had been right, and he had been wrong.
With a simple flick of his wings, Belpherius threw the adventurer to the ground, then swiftly decapitated her. Her body went out in a blaze, and a couple of days later, she showed up again. After that first attempt, Emric had been a bit disheartened, but he was still awed by the look of resolution on her face. She faced the demon as though she’d never failed before, but she did again, quite spectacularly. This time she stayed too close to the edge of the bridge leading to the beast’s castle, and he sent her down the chasm before he even landed on the ground. There was a bright flash of light down the ravine, and two days later…
This went on for quite some time, and Emric started to reconsider whether this was really a show of courage or just stubbornness. She was ill-equipped after all. Her leather armor was all well and good to face ruffians and goblins, but it was like paper to a demon’s axe. Her own short-sword was somewhat stylish but totally devoid of enchantments or feats of legend. And while the tales said that she was a formidable warrior, she didn’t seem to have learned any spells, or any ancient technique of forbidden wisdom. Basically, Emric thought she might as well go adventure some more and come back later.
Then, on that fateful day, something changed. Rather than make a bee-line from the city’s gate to the villain’s castle, she stopped by an inn. Emric followed, his curiosity instantly piqued by this change of habit. Was she finally giving up on affronting the foe and turning to alcoholism to cope? No. She had the smoked salmon with a large glass of carrot juice, a strange combination, but one that evidently reinvigorated her body.
Then she stopped by the blacksmith, but rather than buy better armor, she asked him to whet her blade to the best of his ability. Then, she stopped by the temple and carefully inspected the statues of the three gods that were worshipped there, before finally settling on one and kneeling. The prayer was done in a matter of second, but Emric could tell from the brief halo above her head that it had been heard.
Then, she did something even more peculiar. She stood in the city square and started… Dancing? It wasn’t very artful, but she started moving quickly to the left and right, then started to roll around as though doing gymnastics. Then she did some summersaults which puzzled Emric even further, because shouldn’t she have kept her stamina for the big fight? But she only was out of breath for a few seconds at a time, apparently feeling completely refreshed after just a few seconds of standing still. Surely another benefit of holding the heart of a dragon within her chest.
“Okay, I think I get the controls now,” she said to nobody in particular, and Emric wondered if some kind of spirit companion was standing there, invisible to his eyes. “Let’s get that stupid demon, now.”
And so, she marched towards the castle. Belpherius was sitting leisurely upon the battlements as she made it to the bridge, as if he’d come to expect a bit of entertainment from her every other day. He leaped into the air and flew into big circles for a while, perhaps because he liked an audience these days. The Dragonhearted looked around for a moment, then finally picked a piece of pavement that had come lose. The throw was unexpected and masterful, it collided with one of the thin bones that held the leathery skin of the wing taut, and Belpherius went spiraling down.
The adventurer immediately rushed forward and stung him with her sword. The first blow she’d landed on him in a month of this constant fighting. Then she quickly jumped back as the demon recovered, before he could lash at her. He let out a terrifying roar, but the halo flashed above her head, as though some divine grace was shielding her from this demonic fright. Belpherius flicked his wings, creating a gale that had been her downfall more than once, but she easily dodged to the side. Then, when he came closer to deliver a blow from his axe, she dodged to the side again and stabbed him in the ribs.
Enraged, the demon went for a series of blows which she barely managed to evade. Driven mad, the beast started to glow with the fires of hell, the flames of his axe shining bright as he went for a sweeping blow. By some miracle, she was able to catch it at an angle with her flimsy sword and slipped underneath the blade.
“Yeah, I figured that one would be parry-only,” she said to her ghost companion again.
And so it went. Dodge, dodge, hit. Dodge, dodge, parry, hit. Belpherius was obviously out of his mind by then. Not only was he getting handled by this novice adventurer, but he’d basically summoned the town to come and see him get beat. This time, he was the one who jumped away from her, and he launched himself in the air, rising fast towards the castle towers.
“I heard that you can skip that phase if you just-” Rather than finish her odd sentence, the Dragonhearted ran for the stone she’d thrown earlier, careful aimed, then threw it at the beast’s receding back. It hit him exactly in the same spot as before. “That’s why you need to accuracy bonus from the carrot juice.”
Belpherius collided against the castle’s outer wall and fell in front of the bridge, obviously dazed by this unexpected turn of events. Without a second of hesitation, the adventurer ran towards him and up his back before plunging her sword between his mighty horns. When the blade came free from the carcass, it was wreathed in hellfire.
“That enchantment looks so cool!” she said in a voice that somehow seemed more highly pitched and excitable than before. “Yeah, it’s a decent buff, and the art direction is great in this game.”
That’s when Emric decided to run. Because if there’s something worse than a centuries-old demon, it’s a young immortal who defeated him out of nowhere while talking to herself.
|
The newest adventurer seems quite the fool. Inept in his handling of the sword and shield he carried, he carried all the markings of a rookie doomed to fall in the dark corners of the forest. There was nothing remarkable about his air as he stepped through the gate, and the townspeople quickly forgot him. Like the hundreds of warriors before him, he walks alone down the winding path. Someone had given the poor sod the glimmering hope of fame, in return for a favor or two, pointing him in the direction of the monster infested woods.
The innkeeper notes down the adventurer’s name in his books, determined to allow these young ones some modicum of honor in their death. Honor which they never seem to hold for their own safety. She knows enough by now, sixteen years in her career as an inn keep, to not expect the young man back. He’s as good as gone.
(Too tired to write the rest right now but I’m imagining the player coming back victorious with lots of loot, the inn keeper and other villagers getting curious, someone follows him one day into the forest to see him losing terribly and magically becomes way better in the middle of battle. They report back to the rest of the people and everyone agrees that he’s just Possesed somehow)
|
randomsiege
|
PerhapsATree
|
2023-06-21 21:32:28
|
2023-06-21 18:15:41
| 731 | 29 |
jp0j0w8
|
jozpebm
|
14fdlba
|
14fdlba
|
[WP] You are the child of two famous superheroes and their nemesis has kidnapped you in the hopes of getting under their skin. A week later your parents still haven't come to rescue you.
|
Sitting on the dirty cell floor I wonder if anyone was actually going to rescue me, my parents were heroes that prided themselves on their belief. No one is left behind, but I'm starting to think I've been forgotten. I was thrown in this cage around a week ago and the only people that have saved me were the random workers that walked by and talked to me, momentarily saving me from boredom.
Being the child of two heroes I was enrolled in some simple kidnapping courses, something about how to survive and what to do. During the first day I did what the course said I should do, don't talk unnecessarily to your nappers; but after the third day I got bored and now I talk to most of the villains sidekicks.
"Hey kid, got some food for you."
Occasionally red-wing comes around, apparently he's mom and dads nemesis and the dude that kidnapped me, but he's cool.
"Thanks, have they come yet? Maybe gave an offer for my safe return home?"
Red-wing looked down out of guilt, I mean what parent decides to leave their child with the person they supposedly hate the most. Looking at the food that was pushed into my cell I see some soup and bread, with a cup of water.
"How about this kid, I let you out and you can hang out with some of the people in the main base. But if you run-"
"You'll catch me and shove me back into this cell, ya ya I know"
Standing I wait by the door, excited to do something other than sit in here all day. Looking at red-wing I notice that he's around my high, actually we're also around the same size as well..
"You think I could fit into one of your villain costumes?"
|
They're arguing again. One of them - there are at least four, although they talk about someone who is involved but has never been here, presumably the leader or mastermind - is convinced you're never coming, Dad. They think Mom wrote me off and you're just going along with it, which is... pretty emasculating, honestly.
Good thing you're not here to hear it. Right, *Dad*? Can't risk that batshit temper of yours, these guys would be so much red paste under the rubble of this shitty little "hideout". No, no. Better that you not know what they *really* think about you. A monster, broken to a leash. And don't even get me *started* on the things they've said about you, Mom.
Anyway. One of them thinks you two have written me off, which would be insulting if his arguments weren't so... *logical*. You've *apparently* been on the news three times this week, saving a hundred or more other lives while I *rot* in this shitty little *box*. Thank you so, so much for that. The other one standing out there thinks you're just using these other photo-ops as a cover while you look for me and, honestly... I don't know which one of them to believe anymore.
Fuck, there's the third one. Vin, or Vinny. Something like that. *Asshole*. He's the one with the *needles*. I hate him so, so, *so much*. I told him after the first couple of cracked teeth that they didn't have to *tase* me to get me in the chair, that I'd just *walk* and sit down, but *noooo*, I might be a *flight risk*. As though *I* can fly.
You would think that after the twentieth or thirtieth vial of blood they pulled out of me that at least *one* of them would have realized I *don't have any fucking powers*. Thanks, you two. Really appreciate that one.
Wait. Vinny just asked about the other guy, the one they call the Doctor. Presumably, the one I've "donated" about a gallon of blood to. *Dr. Acula*, maybe. He's saying...
Did you guys *capture Doctor Mad?* Wow. I mean. That's nice. Really great, I'm proud of you. Big damn heroes. Now, maybe, just maybe, you could come and *get me out of his fucking lab!*
He... Vinny's asking why they're still working for Doctor Mad if he's in custody. What the point of keeping the lab up and running is. Of... keeping the test subjects...
No. No, please. I'm not just a test subject. I'm not some kind of *monkey* you can just euthanize when you're done. I might not be a meta but I'm still a *human* and I'm almost *fourteen*, damnit, you - you -
You can't just -
Oh, thank god. They left. They're going to get permission to cut and run, which I think means... means *me*, cut *me*... but they're gone.
If I don't get out of here before they get back, I'm pretty sure they're going to... to kill me. They're going to tase me and cuff me and take me to the lab and drain more of my blood, but they're not going to *stop* until I'm - I'm - or wait. They said they needed the blood for the Doctor's experiments. If you guys *caught* the Doctor, they won't need any more of my blood at all. They won't need me at all, I'm a liability. A problem to be... to be...
disposed of.
I don't want to be *disposed of*. Vinny will do it too, I've seen the look in his eyes when he's got that taser pointed at me, like he'd be *just fine* with it being a gun instead so he doesn't have to deal with me anymore. And he just went to get *permission*.
There's no window in this room. I haven't seen any at all since I woke up here. The walls are hard, concrete or something under this ugly white paint, and I don't even have a bed frame to take apart so I can try and dig out. I could *maybe* break the toilet loose, but it's not like I could fit out through the drain, even though I can smell the harbor sometimes when I'm in the hall outside the lab. There's no way out.
Maybe if I had *powers*, there would be. If I could turn into water, I could flush myself out into the harbor, or get out under the door. If I had mind control powers like Mom, Vinny would walk me right out the *front* door... or if I was strong like you, Dad, I could *make* my own front door and walk *myself* out... but I don't. I can't. I'm not like you two. I'm just stupid little me with no powers, and these *assholes* are going to *kill me* before *you two* can find them and use your big stupid powers to save me and there won't be *anything I can do about it* -
Oh, god. They're back. They're - okay. I don't know who the Administrator is, and he's *probably* an asshole like the rest of these guys, but if he told them to keep me alive I might just -
No. Dude, come *on*. You can't "get rid of" me just because Doctor Mad got locked up! Your boss said so! Business as usual! Right. You should *totally* listen to - Vinny, no, you need to listen to your friend or coworker or whatever, the Administrator *isn't* going to be happy if you get rid of me. What the - yes, *clearly* he'll know, do you even listen to yourself? Please, just - even just, I don't know, take a day or two to think about it, maybe just go get some lunch or something, anything, *please* -
"Kid. Stand up an' face the wall." That click was *not* the taser.
"I don't want to. I promise I won't fight, you can just put the cuffs on me and I won't say anything on the way to the lab - "
"You ain't goin' to the lab anymore. I'm givin' you one chance here. Stand up an' face the wall like a man."
"Why do I have to face the wall? I don't want to face the wall."
"You gotta face the wall because *I* don't wanna look at your *face* when..."
"My face when what? Listen. I don't know where I am, I've never seen your faces under the masks. I don't know *anything*. You don't have to... do this. You can just let me go. Please."
"An' let you lead the Monster back here? Fuck all 'a that."
"I don't even know where *here* is! I can't lead him *anywhere*! I won't even try. I promise."
"I ain't takin' that risk."
"So you're going to k-kill the Savage's son instead? You think that's a better idea? If you let me go, he'll let you live. I promise."
"First off, you can't make that promise, ya little shit. Only person holdin' that leash is your ma, an' if she gave a damn she'd be here by now. Makes sense, though, you not havin' powers an' all. Guess she doesn't feel like rescuin' a kid that ain't no goddamn *meta*. Hell, when ya look at it like *that*, I'm doin' your parents a *favor*. Gettin' rid of an *embarrassment*. Now get up. I was feelin' charitable earlier, but now you're gettin' on my nerves."
Fine. You guys aren't coming for me. I'm on my own, an unpowered thirteen-year-old against a grown-ass man who wants to kill me and has both a gun *and* a metal door between us. Great odds. I bet the League would have taught me how to get out of this situation, if I'd managed to get some powers in time... but then I wouldn't be *in* this situation.
Fuck it. Courage is spitting in fear's eye. "No, *Vinny*. You want to kill me, fine, but you're going to look me in the eye when you do it. *Asshole*."
"You think that's gonna stop me?"
"You're hiding behind a gun *and* a metal door from an unarmed kid. I don't know *what* to say to stop you, because I don't speak *bitch*."
"You little-" **BOOM**
|
cuteghost-
|
thepush
|
2023-06-15 18:24:41
|
2023-06-15 16:15:54
| 706 | 358 |
jo96pn5
|
jo8ppuz
|
14a31be
|
14a31be
|
[WP] You are kidnapped by the villain regularly, but you’re starting to look forward to it. You know they won’t hurt you, and are simply being dramatic. It also doesn’t help that you are the only person they ever kidnap. This time, the hero doesn’t bother trying to save you.
|
You sense them in the shadows long before you see them.
"Hello Percival. How are are you today?"
"Perci...what!? I am TERROR-DACTYL! Terror of the night!"
"Oh Terry dear. Sorry I was expecting someone else You're early. Can I just finish my dinner? Join me I have more than enough."
"Was the rest for *Percival*?"
What was that tone? Jealousy?
Mildly amused, you avoid telling Terror-dactyl that Percival is your neighbour. Or more specifically, your neighbour's cat you were minding. Percival doesn't like you much and lurks in the shadow.
"We have no time for dinner. Come with me now, don't make me hurt you." Terror-dactyl points their freeze ray at you. Hesitating he smells the air.
"Is that Beef Wellington?..." Then very quietly "It's my favourite."
"No" Terror-dactyl continued "Fenik will be here soon. We must away"
"You're worried about my br....my hero Fenik"
You dont know why you're still covering, this is the 11th time Terror-dactyl has kidnapped you. Surely he knows the connection between you and Fenik. Otherwise why would he choose you every time.
Sigh
"Fenik isn't coming today. He's busy with a volcano on a remote island. Saving the locals."
Conveniently timed with your brother’s honeymoon, with his lovely new spouse Jay. Also known as Glacio.
Their teams had spread word about a fake volcano eruption, and how Glacio and Fenik were saving the day. So that Jay and Frederick could honeymoon in peace.
You sit down at the table and slice into the Beef Wellington.
"Fenik will return to save you anyway." Terror-dactyl said deflated.
"Nah, he said 10 was enough times. Next time I could rescue myself. I could, you know, rescue myself. Supposing of course I *want* to be rescued"
He looks at you perplexed.
"Powers are genetic. My brother didn't get them all."
You pinch your fingers on the unlit candle wick, removing your hand to show the now lit candle.
"Hero work never appealed to me, I let Fenik deal with that. Now last time we met, you said you'd teach me chess."
|
TW - dark ending.
********
“He needs to be stopped”
“What for? Out of all the criminals we have, he’s probably the most non violent. On our list of priorities, he’s right at the bottom of the totem pole.”
“You don’t understand. He’s the most dangerous of them all.”
“Ok let me look. Dr Death. Damages this month. 4 million. Citizens harmed. 8. 2 dead. Matterman. 15 million in damages. 3 people sustained minor injuries. Ah. Here we go. Heath. Hmmm. 35k in damages. No one dead. No one injured. Only 1 person ever kidnapped. Besides what sort of super villain calls himself Heath. Not even a supervillain name. I don’t know why you’re so bent out of shape over…”
Shadow stormed out. Normally you could barely tell when he came in and out. Probably his biggest advantage. But the door was closed so violently that it came off its hinges. No way it could have gone unnoticed.
“Idiot.” The mayor grumbles under his breath. “When he can’t argue with math, he throws a tantrum.”
The mayor then busied himself in looking at his polling numbers. It wasn’t looking good.
******
“You might as well drop the facade and let me out. Or are we going to talk from across the room again today?”
Heath looked up. Their eyes met for a moment but Heath immediately looked away. “Yeah. Uh. That’s not really locked. 3 clockwise and 2 anticlockwise. That will let you out.”
Shawna did as he asked. To her surprise the lock clicked and the door opened. “You do know that it’s a creepy wooing technique right? I assume that’s what you’re doing here.”
“No… I… I’m sorry.”
“Some supervillain you are.” She went to him, and sat next to him. The cave that they were in opened out to a beautiful view of the city skyline. The sun was setting and the sky looked like it was on fire. She looked at his phone that he held.
She raised her eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“Oh. I… I accidentally destroyed a shop while kidnapping you today. Damages of around 35-40k. I’m just sending them the money back.”
She laughed heartily. It was like a roar of happiness and it made his heart flutter. “You really don’t know how to be a supervillain.”
“Well I’m retiring today. So it’s probably for the best.”
“You’re retiring? Why?”
“He was there today. Waiting for me. He knows I’m targeting you specifically. I tried to keep it random. But obviously he’s been keeping a watch on you continuously.”
“What do you mean he’s watching me?”
“I usually time my attacks based on when other villains attack. When he’s busy. Dr Death is in the middle of a major attack right now. But Shadow didn’t go to help there. He stayed, keeping a watch on you. I missed him, of course. Impossible to see him if he doesn’t want you to or if you’re prepared for it specifically. So he’s prioritizing stopping me over saving the dozens of people who are in danger right now. I can’t do that. I could never live knowing people came to harm because of me. He should be out there stopping Dr. Death. But he attacked me. Once I saw him, I was prepared of course. But the damages. I’m not a rich man. 50k is basically all my life savings. I wish I had more so I could try to compensate for the people Death is…” He paused, realizing Shawna was staring at him.
“You’re a supervillain. You’re supposed to do bad things to get money or power. Not empty out your bank accounts to help victims.”
“As you said, I’m not a good villain.”
“Why then?” Shawna took out her phone, put it on silent and placed it between them.
He looked at the phone.
She smiled. “It’s not recording or anything. Out here at the edge, I have a bar. Inside there’s no signal. As you’re probably aware which is why you’re sitting here to do bank transactions.”
“Oh. Yeah. That and the view is gorgeous here.”
“It really is.” But she shivered a bit.
“Oh I’m sorry. Let me.” He made a wrist movement, and a jacket appeared almost by magic.
“Thank you. Super cool.”
He smiled and stared at his feet. “Nah it’s nothing.” He looked out at the sky again. “It doesn’t seem like he’s coming.”
“I wonder why. Not that I’m complaining.”
“I hope he’s stopped Dr. Death.”
“If it’s the last time, I’d like to know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why do all of this? Who are you?”
“Well the second one is easy. My name is Heath.”
“Not your villain name. Your real one.”
He looked a bit sheepish, as sheepish as possible with a mask on. “It’s Heathcliff. My mom loved the classics.”
Shawna laughed. “What the fuck!!! You didn’t even change your name?”
“I didn’t really think it through! It was just a moment that I went insane. And I do want to apologize for that. I know I’ve caused you some real harm.”
“Not particularly. I’ve come to sort of enjoy our conversations. You’re obviously a smart guy.”
“That’s not healthy.”
“It’s not. But have you seen the dating pool out there? This isn’t even my weirdest date.”
“It’s not a date! I just… ok let me ask you this. Do you believe in fate?”
“Oh god. Now I’m starting to sour on you.”
“I know I know. That sounds weird. High school athletic meet. You were the basketball star.”
“How do you know that?”
“I… well… I was at the finals game. I went to St. Mary’s.”
“No way! Did you play?”
“No no. I wasn’t good at any sports. But I saw you and…”
“Creeping back into creepy.”
“I know! It’s not like that though. I saw you. And I know it’s a bit cringy. But I sort of fell for you. I never intended to see you again. I just knew your name. And I had your smile after the final shot. That was enough for me.”
“You should’ve said something.”
“I was there for 2 days. Then I’d be back miles away. Plus I… well… let’s just say you were always too good for me.”
“That’s silly talk.”
“I know we like to say that. But like, I couldn’t imagine why you would go out with someone like me. Especially since I was going to be gone shortly.”
“That’s quitter talk. What’s the worst that could’ve happened.”
“Nothing I suppose. Let’s just say I was a coward.”
“And then. You decided this was the best way to see me again. As I said, we’re strongly in creepy territory again.”
“I… I don’t know how to explain. Look I gained my powers when I hit puberty. But I was already bullied enough. I was already called freak by everyone. I just hid them. When I first… well kidnapped you, do you remember what happened?”
“I kinda do. There was bad weather and then… oh!!!”
“Yep. It was the day Matterman attacked. The building behind you was about to collapse. I looked across the street and say… well the lost, first love. I panicked. I just wanted to get you out of harms way. But then I imagined exactly this conversation and didn’t want to show you my face or tell you who I was. Because it was obviously creepy as you pointed out. So I just pretended to be a villain. The second time.. again I swear to god I just saw you. I just panicked again. You looked at me and I thought you recognized me. I just quickly put on a mask. People, including you got scared. And i just.. I don’t know why I did that honestly.”
“And then we got to talking.”
“I sort of begin to enjoy our conversations. While I’ve hidden my superpowers I still did want to know more about them. I had researched Shadow and other heroes and villains. I can sort of match up with Shadow as long as I can control the environment. Plus the whole he won’t kill works in my favour.”
“And today?”
“It seems that he has decided I am more important than actually saving lives. So I guess I’m saying goodbye.”
Shawna reached over and took off his mask. “Next time. Just text me. Look I enjoy talking to you. And just to be clear I’m not saying anything is going to happen here. But I’ll give you a chance to woo me.” Shawna took her phone and handed it to Heath. “Put your number in.”
Heath looked shocked. But he took her phone.
**Tracking in progress**
“Oh no.”
|
IlikethequietZeppo
|
TA_Account_12
|
2023-02-15 05:55:18
|
2023-02-15 04:22:45
| 462 | 127 |
j8lqfyp
| null |
112morh
|
112morh
|
[WP] You never asked to be a hero. People just expected it of you. The only reason you played along is because there were actual threats to the city. When a new 'villain', who wants control of the city themselves, puts a stop to the other villains, the hero decides he needs to talk with the new guy.
|
The conversation is succinct. No pleasantries exchanged. Just you, the hero, and he, the villain. You didn’t ask for this, the role was thrust upon you, like the groin of a man you don’t know upon a forgotten dancefloor in a frat basement. Why were you the hero? And he the villain? Surely it was heroic to rid the city of villains? The myriad ambivalences of the populace, the seesawing ebbs and flows of public opinion. Tomorrow you could be the villain and he the hero. But for tonight you wore the cape of the heroic and landed looking dashing in his lair.
He sat behind a mahogany desk, just a man with a revolver. A revolver you both knew couldn’t harm you. He steepled his fingers and looked over them at you. “The hero?” he hazarded a guess. And you replied “Yes.” Like you were supposed to.
“It would seem my war on crime has been more successful than yours. I drew them all from their ragged depths and brought them to the light.” He said spreading his hands to encompass the bodies which burned around you. Villains you had fought for years, swooped up and deposited here in a high rise in Manhattan. He had no henchmen. He was surrounded by no lackeys. He just sat and stared, and his fingers fell to the gun toying with it, twisting it about the desk. He spun it once and the muzzle swung round towards you.
“You first then,” he says picking up the gun. “These bullets do you know what they are made of?”
“Lead? Steel? Iron? Brass?” You guess and he chuckles. “Irradiated graphite.” He smiles darkly. “Highly radioactive and possibly lethal even to you. Would you like to play a game?” He asks innocently.
You eye the weapon, not sure if your powers can shield you from this. It’s the indecision he counts on. And he spins the revolver again so that it lands pointing at him. “We will ask a series of questions. I’ve only loaded one bullet. I only have one such bullet mined from the ruins of Chernobyl herself but no less lethal for the years that have passed.”
“So, go on then, ask me why, ask me why, ask me why they all burn.”
|
“What are you?” The angel asked, their pudgy, flawless face examining the human that had been summoned to them. They were odd, very human looking, but with a strange aura about them. One that had Zina questioning if this was actually one of god’s creations.
“I’m a human.” He answered, trying his best to be respectful. The answer hung in the air as the two invested parties considered the response. Zina furrowed her brows, slouching against the couch in a show of exasperation. The small room feeling even smaller now that both an angel and demon occupied it.
Hepo snarled, the demon pacing around the room, already sick of this conversation. If the demon had his way, he would force the answer out of them. Pull of an arm or electrocute them. Something that would get them talking. Yet, Zina insisted on having a conversation, and now they were both stuck in this stuffy office room.
“Never come across a human like you before. Did god have a few too many whiskeys the night you popped out?”
“HEPO.” Zina snapped.
“What? Oh, sorry. The night you were created.” He said in a disinterested tone. “Forgot you angels were so invested in the specifics of creation. Ok, did he have too many whiskeys the night you were created? Better?”
“That isn’t better and you know it.”
“Take it or leave it.”
The human let them talk, not having anything they could add to this conversation. Part of him was still in awe of the fact that angels and demons existed. He had always been a fan of the alien zoo theory and this revelation really tore that theory apart, ruining any imaginative thoughts he had about what came after death.
“Let me try. You’re an angel, aren’t you? Look at those beautiful features. He’s a divine one, isn’t he?” The angel smirked, as if this human was the number one draft pick and she was trying to lure them into her holy team.
“Now hold on, look at the way he’s standing there. With that big dumb look that just says. I’m trouble. He’s a demon, ain’t ya? You like a bit of sin, don’t ya? Don’t worry, it’s natural. We all do.” The demon went to creep closer, only to wince as the angel shot a bolt of lightning at his feet, making him bounce back like a startled cat.
“He’s too beautiful to be one of you. He has charm, something you lot lack.”
“You lot? Oh, that is rich coming from an angel. All the perfection in the world couldn’t stop you from looking like some baby-faced losers. Go get god to change your nappies and let a professional handle this.” The demon's twisted face giving the angel a glare as the two locked eyes. From this angle, the human could see the busted nose of the demon. Hepo having a nose that pointed sideways, having been broken too many times to stay in its normal position. In contrast, the angel’s nose was a small pointed button, one that looked like it belonged on a doll over a person.
Before the argument could go any further, the human spoke. “Sorry. I don’t think I belong to either of you? I’m a human.”
“You don’t remember anything before this? I should have known hell would cause him to lose his memories.” The angel sighed, as if she should have expected this outcome.
“WHAT? You can’t be blaming this on us. Maybe you lost his memories. Look, every time you’re reincarnated, you come back as something different. Sometimes you’re an angel and sometimes you’re a demon. You’re the only human that does this. It’s been a thousand years and you keep up the same pattern, which is making us think you’re something else entirely.”
“I think you’re an angel and you should come back to where you belong.”
“STOP TRYING TO CONVERT HIM. IT’S OUR TURN WITH HIM ANYWAY. Though you don’t seem that evil. Got any bodies under your bed? A secret drug empire? Late DVD rentals?” The demon fished for hell points, trying to confirm the pattern.
“Not really?” The human said, unable to think of anything hellish they had done at this point in their life.
“Eh, guess you still have time.”
“Ah, so good deeds, then? Attended church, not sworn, loved your parents? That sort of thing?” The angel smiled, happy to see the pattern was breaking. This minor hiccup in the status quo was causing them so much stress. Once the pattern was broken, she could breathe a little easier.
“No, not really?”
“So, he’s a wildcard still?” The demon said, their interest growing. “You think he’s the one?”
“Surely he isn’t. That person doesn’t exist? Right?” The angel scratched at her nail, pretending to be distracted by some dirt underneath, even though her nails were always perfectly clean.
“Think about it. A being who goes against the norm of society and the afterlife. Sounds like the one who has true freewill to me.” The demon gave the human a look over, clicking his tongue. “Doesn’t really look like a future god to me. Guess it’s a look you grow into.”
“You aren’t suggesting this is the next god? The one who will take over when the current one stands down? God would never stand down. You’re entertaining a fairy tale. I thought you demons didn’t believe such things.” She said in a flustered huff, trying her hardest to convince herself against the notion.
“Hm, guess he might not be the next god.” The demon said, a glint of mischief in their red eyes, as they waited to lure the angel into their verbal trap.
“Exactly, we finally agree on something.”
“He could be the next devil.” The air in the room went cold, and the human felt his blood still. Even the suggestion had him feeling an incredible sense of dread, like the devil was currently pushing down on his back, daring him to take their throne.
“Preposterous. We would never allow that to happen.”
“You will allow it to happen if you don’t entertain the possibility of him being the next in line. If you keep acting like it doesn’t exist, us demons will swoop in and steal him right from under your little noses.”
The human had to clear things up, mainly to get this horrible feeling off his back. “I’m not a god, angel, or even a demon. I’m a human. That’s all. Just a regular human.” Though, his words didn’t seem to convince anyone in the room.
“Whatever you say, my dark master. OW.” The demon’s tail lit up in black flames, sending a toasty smell through the room. “IT WAS A JOKE.” He squeaked, smacking at his tail, trying to extinguish it. The flames soon dimmed, leaving the demon clutching his now charcoal colored tail, trying to soothe the burnt marks on his flesh.
“I suppose it would be foolish to not entertain the idea.” She conceded, before returning her attention to the human. “We will be sending you back now. When you return, you will remember nothing about this conversation. I hope you lead a righteous life. If not, I’ll be there to guide you the next time you reincarnate. No one wants to be a devil. It’s a lonely life.”
“Pfft, lonely? Think about all the hot babes in hell. You think you get all that cool stuff in heaven? Succubi, goths and more. It’s the winning team. You won’t ever be lonely.” The demon winked.
“Ugh. You are such an ugly thing.” Zina said, directing her palm towards the human. “Good luck, mortal. I hope to see you soon. Be kind and live well. Heaven is full of beauty and you will always have a place in our home.”
As the human faded away, they found themselves unable to answer the angel. Before they returned to Earth, Hepo made one last desperate plea to get the human onto their side, chanting the word goth at him before he left the room.
“Guess we will have to wait and see. Won’t we?” Hepo said, opening a door to hell.
“Suppose we will.” Zina agreed, making her way to her own door as both of them returned to their afterlives.
(If you enjoyed this feel free to check out my subreddit /r/Sadnesslaughs where I'll be posting more of my writing.)
|
psilocybediatribe
|
sadnesslaughs
|
2025-03-28 00:21:48
|
2024-09-26 15:36:25
| 67 | 49 |
mk3pok3
|
lp19hcx
|
1jlhi6d
|
1fpviyc
|
[WP] You are reborn as the hero in another world. Not wanting to go throughthe hardship that comes with that you decide to hide it and become a blacksmith in a small town and get married. When the knights come take your wife saying that she is the saint. Your status is no longer a something to hide.
|
Glancing at my reflection in the window, I saw the face my wife was still in love with. Middle aged, kind eyes, graying hair. How many years had I been hitting metal on an anvil? The regular, comfortable years spent with the same wonderful woman. I cared not for riches. I cared not for fame. I was happy. My wife was happy. We were happy living a simple life, together.
But standing here, in my shop, was a threat to this happiness. A knight of the realm stood, helmet under one arm, calling my wife their 'Saint' and saying they were taking her away.
"Honey!" I yelled out, she would be doing some cleaning about now in the back. "Some knights here to see you."
"Just a minute!" The expected reply.
"She'll be out shortly." I gestured over my shoulder. "Care for a seat?" I gestured at the few chairs available in the shop.
"No, thank you." The knight replied. "We will not be staying long." The knight tried to be casual, but being a shopkeeper you learn to read people, and this guy had a hint of desperation about him. He looked up as my wife emerged from the back.
"Hi sweetie." She hugged me, kissing me on the cheek. A moment taken together as our eyes met, the joy I felt every time I looked into hers. The soft lines etched in her face, brought on by many a smile we had shared. As beautiful as the day I met her. "Now, who de we have here?"
"Knights of the realm, hon. Under orders from the King himself."
"Oh, sounds important."
"Seems so, they have something they'd like to discuss with you." I politely indicated to the knight, who was doing a rather good job of waiting patiently.
"Oh, well then. Far be it for me to keep them waiting. How can I help, sir knight?"
"Ma'am." The knight gave a small respectful bow. "You are The Saint. We have been searching for months, years, and finally we have found you. I would humbly request that you return with us to the capital, where you will be given all honour due to a person of your station. It is written that with you, the people will have prosperity, peace, and happiness. The King himself would like to meet with you, so that we may-"
"No." her voice cut off the knight. He blinked, confused, before speaking again.
"I'm sorry?"
"No, thank you. I'm happy where I am." Her brow furrowed a little. "No need of this 'saint' nonsense. I am quite honoured you think of me so, but my answer remains the same. I will not accompany you. Have a safe trip back." With those words she gave a small curtsey of her own and went out back again. The knight stood, expression a mixture confusion and disbelief, as she disappeared. I waited. He scratched his head for a few seconds.
"Wait. No. *Hold on*." Settling in with a determined expression, the knight moved towards the door. I blocked his path. "Excuse me." Authority crept into his words. The kind of authority that was earned, it was nice to hear. "I will speak further with The Saint." Still polite, and respectful. But his authority didn't extend to me.
"Sorry, but she's given her answer." I shrugged. "And let me tell you from experience, she doesn't change her mind. I'd prefer you not bother her any further with this 'Saint' business." Anger flickered briefly in his eyes, quickly under control.
"Sir. I have been ordered to bring her back to the capital. My duty binds me to this course of action. I would request you stand aside." A well spoken lad, this one.
"No. You'll be leaving. Without her."
"Sir. Move aside." He was very determined now, reaching out do physically what his words could not.
"No." His words would not move me. Nor would his actions. As he tried to shove me aside, I pushed him back. He stumbled a moment before his hand flashed to the sword at his waist-
-Only to find my hand on top of his, preventing him from drawing the blade.
"Hold, lad." My voice was strong, commanding. I could feel him tremble, standing this close. I know he hadn't seen me move. "If you pull that blade, the blood of your men will be on your hands. I do not want this. Listen carefully, as I have some questions. They're nice, easy questions. Take a moment, and nod when you are ready to answer." He took a slow breath, muscles still tense like a coiled spring. A short nod. "Very good. Here is the first question. Are you a good man?"
"Yes." No hesitation with his answer.
"That's what I thought. Second question. Would you ever knowingly harm an innocent?"
"Never." Instantly. With conviction.
"Wonderful. Third question. Does taking people away from their families, against their will, cause harm?"
"... Yes." A bit longer to answer, this time. He understood. I released my hold and stepped back.
"Last question," I spoke softer. "but I think you already know it. What are you trying to do right now?" the knight took his own step back, and sank into one of the chairs. He buried his face in his hands. "Lad, I respect you. It's can be a difficult line to hold, especially when you believe you are doing the right thing. Especially when a prophecy is involved."
"The prophecy?!" His head jerked up. Anger and frustration boiled over, the losing his composure. "That damned warrior! Reborn into our world as the greatest fighter ever! Destined to find The Saint! She who would bring peace, prosperity and happiness to the chosen people! He just had to find her-"
"I did."
"- and everything would be.... wait, what?" Mid-tirade, confused again.
"I *did* find her." Comprehension dawned for the knight.
"You.... you... you're the warrior?" Disbelief.
"Maybe not right away. And, I guess, technically, she found me. I'd been blacksmithing a few years before she walked into the local tavern one evening. Her beauty and grace silenced every person in that room. Then, of all the tables, of all the men, she chose to sit with me. Best day of my life..." My voice trailed off in memory.
"*You?*" The knights incredulous tone brought me back to the present. All his manners forgotten, mouth wide, words not coming out.
"Yeah, me." I chuckled. "Look, the prophecy said I would discover her. It never said *when*." he closed his mouth, looking at the ground in thought. "And the second part of the prophecy, well that's more important. She would bring all this to her chosen people. **Her** chosen people. Not **the** chosen people. And, well, she chose me."
"All this time..." the knight groaned.
"Hey, I'm going to be honest. I didn't put it together until you walked in that door and said who she was. I just thought I was the luckiest guy in the world to find someone so wonderful." I glanced at the door behind me. "Now." I reached a hand out, helping the knight to his feet. "You've got a journey ahead of you, and a report to make. You're a good man, and will make a fine leader in the days to come. You'll be needed. Safe travels."
"Thank you, sir." The knight, once again composed, saluted and left my store.
"You really didn't know?" Later that evening, my wife questioned me.
"What, that you were the Saint? No."
"You just thought you were the luckiest guy in the world?" She laughed. I pulled her into a hug, kissing her. Looking into her eyes, those wonderful eyes, nothing else mattered.
"I still do."
|
“My father, a king from a distant world, once told me; “Evils from other lands are as important as evils knocking at your gate.” Ramses said. He knelt and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. Ramses wiped tears from his son’s eyes.
“They took mom, what are we going to do?” the boy asked. Ramses hugged his son tightly; he felt small and frail under his muscular arms. I was his age when I tasted the bitter reality of this world, and I survived still, Ramses thought.
“Run to your uncles and tell him what happened.” Ramses paused. “Tell him I’m dawning my armor once more. He will understand.” The boy stared at his father, not quite comprehending. “Go!” Ramses said, and the boy took off like a startled Deer.
Ramses approached his work desk, which was a giant anvil that sat in the center of his workshop. He gritted his teeth and with all his might he pushed the giant anvil revealing a trap door. Inside sat a chest holding armor of a brilliant emerald green and embroidered red, like roses on a vine.
“How long did I sit idly while the bell tolls for each saint captured. And now as the king’s justice takes away my love, I reach for my father’s armor, not as a hero, but as a coward. Ramses shut the chest and slid it back into the trap door.
“I’ am no longer a knight of the king’s guard.” Ramses said, and he reached for his work hammer. “No, instead I am a man who will protect his family.”
|
cyborg_127
|
Tank_913
|
2024-12-31 06:05:10
|
2024-12-30 22:13:24
| 26 | 14 |
m4nk1ht
|
m4lf6p5
|
1hpftci
|
1hpftci
|
[WP] You recently discovered that your father, whom you never knew, is actually a crime-fighter with no free time, and he is unaware that you are his son. In order to talk to him, you become a villain.
|
First draft, uses characters from my tabletop project - excuse any typos, pleaseeeee
The driver checked his watch and turned down the radio as his passengers climbed out, their boots thudding against rain-slick cement.
“Three minutes,” he drawled – he didn’t wait for confirmation before he turned the radio back up, drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel.
The song ended and a new one started, a growled rock-and-roll ballad – his fingers thudded against the wheel faster and faster, synchronized with a frenetic drumline, drowning out the sounds of breaking glass and gunfire. When a distant scream cut through the song, he grimaced and turned it up a few notches further.
Inside, a security guard with blood smeared across his face looked up at the criminal who struck him – his eyes are filled with an expression between terror and disbelief, the vacant grasping gaze of a man whose day has suddenly deviated from its planned course in the most catastrophic way possible.
“Don’t try to get back up, and you won’t get hurt again,” said a voice from across the bank – a voice rendered into booming static by a modulator, the same way that the speaker’s face was obscured by a metallic black mask resembling the head of a koala bear - it hooked into the collar of sleek powered armor, leaving not an inch of flesh exposed. “I’m sure you don’t get paid enough.”
The security guard looked at the other civilians in the bank – saw his own fear mirrored in their eyes – and thought about telling the supervillain running the robbery that his job wasn’t about the money. It was about keeping the peace – about making sure that no one ever had to feel like he felt now. He shook his head – they wouldn’t understand.
“Good lad,” said Drop Bear II – Sydney’s most renowned supervillain, a criminal who had stolen the name of a retired hero and now used his hyper-advanced armor to commit flashy heists across the city. “How are we doing on time, Mick?”
“Ninety seconds,” said one of the goons, checking his watch – they were among the most loyal henchmen in Oceania, and for good reason. They got vision and dental insurance, and there was no ninety-day probationary period.
Drop Bear II nodded, lifted his arm – the composition of the gauntlet around one fist went liquid, amorphous, changing shape, and the proton cannon that formed from the unstable nanites shredded through the wall of the bank with enough force left over to leave the vault door warped. His henchmen stormed through the breach and started throwing stacks of wrapped bills into their bags – their boss reclined against one of the banker’s desks, looking oddly at ease.
“Hurry up!” The criminal called Mick shouted – the group of bank robbers trotted back through the lobby with their backs bent under the weight of fully-loaded duffel bags and, approaching a car parked at the curb, loaded in. The security guard heard tires screech as they pulled away.
Drop Bear II stayed where he was – the civilians could hear him counting down under his breath.
“Five … four … three … ah, he’s early.” Then the wall exploded, and as everyone nearby dove for cover, a great grey shape moved through the room like a wrecking ball – there was a scent like ozone as the proton cannon discharged again, and again, and now they could see Drop Bear II flinching backwards, his arms raised, fending off a shape that leapt and roared and slashed massive claws …
“It’s the Drop Bear!” shouted one of the tellers. “You’re in for it now, imposter!”
The duo broke apart, skidding in opposite directions – the Drop Bear hit a desk and destroyed it with his raw bulk whilst the supervillain slid gracefully to the far wall.
“Get out of here,” growled the Drop Bear – no one waited for him to repeat himself. As heroic as the Drop Bear was, his appearance – the result of radiation inflicted decades prior at a zoological exhibit – struck fear as well as any villain. He hulked over everyone else in the bank, a mountain of grey fur, a koala bear with the mass of a silverback gorilla. The civilians scattered, leaving hero and villain alone in the ruins of the lobby.
A moment of silence passed between them before the villain spoke.
“I knew it,” even through the modulator, his awe was obvious. “I knew that you would come.”
“I’ll never be too retired to beat on somebody who uses my name for evil,” said the elder Drop Bear. “Why didn’t you leave with your goons?”
“I … wanted to see you,” came the words, spoken haltingly. “I didn’t know how to find you.”
“Eh?” Deep-set koala eyes narrowed. “What are you, captain of the fan club?”
Outside, police formed rigid defensive lines and aimed their long-guns through the wall of the bank – Drop Bear II could feel his suit’s reactive defenses priming to deflect the incoming bullets, but it was hard to focus with his heart pounding against his ribs.
“I just wanted to know if it was worth it,” the villain said, voice low. “To be a hero.”
“Worth it? Kid, my book about controlling your inner animal was featured in Oprah’s book club. They sell Drop Bear’s Famous Meat Pies from Canberra to Chicago. It’s a small price to pay, havin’ to beat someone unconscious when they step out of line.”
“But you never had a family,” The supervillain shook his head. “Didn’t you feel lonely?”
“How would you know?” The hulking hero bared a mouthful of teeth that could cut through bone as easily as bamboo. “Who are you, kid?”
There was a distant boom – backup coming from across the Outback, fliers en route. The hero flinched, his sensitive ears taking the sonic wave like a physical blow – and in that moment, the villain activated the thrusters in his boots, propelling himself upwards towards the ceiling.
Drop Bear bent his knees and leapt, realizing too late that he would be an easy target in midair – he cursed himself as he saw the proton cannon start to swing around, cursed the years spent in retirement sitting at a desk with a tie fastened around his fuzzy neck. His dead friends were going to laugh at him when he saw them.
But instead, the cannon kept revolving, swung until it aimed towards the ceiling above – it fired, blowing a hole in the rooftop, and Drop Bear II lifted out of the bank to hover above. A dozen rifles fired and scattered their rounds across a glittering force-field.
“Damn it, I asked you a question!” Drop Bear shouted. “Who are you!?”
The modulator clicked off and the supervillain laughed, a mirthless laugh that was somehow familiar – it reminded the Drop Bear of someone he hadn’t seen in twenty years. He could see her face, distinct in his mind, as the villain accelerated away from the building.
A few moments later, Osprey and the rest of the Skywardens descended around the bank – Drop Bear walked out through the shattered wall, shaking his head.
“Who the heck was that?” Osprey demanded – Drop Bear bit back his typical aggression and tried to remember that this new wave of heroes was gentler than his old friends. When he spoke, it was in a low rumble.
“I don’t know … but I’ll find out. Leave him to me.”
|
I watch Imperium on the hospital tele; a god among us who decided to use his powers for protecting us. My mother’s dying words wrench my ears, “Imperium is your father”. Defeat in her voice.
It wasn’t the first time I had heard about the man who abandoned us of course. I wasn’t even a heartbeat when he left. Up until my mother had only used a fake name to protect his identity. Even after all he did, she still acted selflessly. Every time she mentioned him, her voice would shake and I could see her trying her best to not fall apart. Not fall apart for me. That kind of strength is a matter of gods’ envy. That kind of sacrifice… that god wouldn’t know. Not yet.
I want… No. I NEED to know why he left. How could he leave so easily. I tried screaming from the roof. I tried calling the press. I tried for 2 months. He is but a golden blur in the sky. It’s obvious he can’t hear me. But he needs to. I will make him. A part of me is glad my mother isn’t here to see what I’m going to do next.
.
.
.
.
Followed by protagonist’s rise in power. When he eventually confronts Imperium he finds out that Imperium never left. But his mom lied about him leaving. She hid the pregnancy and broke up with Imperium because he wasn’t able to be there for the world and a lot of people died.
|
SmokingCrowStudios
|
cat_lawyer_
|
2023-11-18 02:35:26
|
2023-11-18 01:45:28
| 128 | 25 |
k9pwnto
|
k9pqjbe
|
17xs2q1
|
17xs2q1
|
[WP] You have a completely useless superpower in a world full of amazing superpowers. You have been a laughing-stock for years, until you started using your powers for evil... nobody is laughing now.
|
Part 1/2
You'd think that being born with the power to stitch anything you want together would be cool, until your first day of school when all of the other kids can basically warp reality like a herd of baby demigods. Compared to them I was basically a laughing stock and considered a loser all the way from kindergarten all the way through college.
I thought that after graduating from the superhero academy and getting my hero license that I'd be taken at least a little more seriously as maybe a D-Rank support hero at least, but instead I was relegated to desk duty and haven't been approved to go on patrol once in over a decade. The most I ever really used my powers was when the other heroes would toss their ripped uniforms at me and yell "Hey Seamstress" at me before ordering me to fix it for them, and I wasn't even a woman! Not only that, but they never even thanked me afterwards despite their suits looking new and pristine.
To try and prove myself I started to privately work on solving a case involving a local drug ring that the regular cops were having problems with, and even managed to find out the names of everybody involved along with enough evidence to bring them all in. I was so excited to turn in my work to my boss after the months I had been working on it, leaving the folder on my desk to turn into him first thing tomorrow.
And yet, what do I see when I come back the next day? That Steve (Or Inkblot, as was his hero name), the laziest man I know, was being put in charge of the team to take down that same drug ring I had just spent the last seven months of my life investigating. And as the cherry on top of it all, when I saw the board his paperwork was pinned to, it was all MY months of work that he had obviously stolen and used his ink manipulation powers to change into his handwriting to make it look like he had done it. I'd never be able to prove that that work was mine now that he'd altered it, so I just gave up and quit that day. That was basically the best work I'll ever do in my life and the credit was just stolen out from under me.
I know it's a cliche, but I was still pissed at Inkblot for taking my work and so I set up a dartboard with a picture of his face on it. I could just stitch the darts to his picture after all, I'd never miss no matter how bad my aim might be.
This event however, would turn out to be the catalyst for finding out just how strong I really was.
I had gotten myself so worked up that all I could do was imagine his stupid picture on fire and the next thing I knew, it had burst into flame. I panicked and immediately tried to find something to put the fire out when it stopped just as fast as it had started. Confused, I tried it out again and lit his picture up once more before extinguishing it. This was when I discovered that there were two other aspects to my powers that I had never known about.
1) I could stitch not just two objects together, I could stitch an object together with a concept, such as a photograph and fire.
2) I could also unstitch things as well, such as removing the concept of fire from his photograph.
I smiled to myself as I realized just how much more powerful this made me than all of the other supers, I could basically impose my will onto reality and nobody could stop me.
After this revelation it obviously didn't take long to decide it would be much more rewarding to use my newfound power to be a villain to get whatever I wanted. I decided there was only one proper way to make my debut and that was to defeat the unbeatable super Alpha, the beloved poster boy of the Hero Federation.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was rather easy to get his attention it turned out, I just had to unstitch some civilians from the concept of gravity to float them uncontrollably into the air and he flew in after just a couple of minutes to gather them all inside so they wouldn't endlessly float away. Now that I had his attention I restitched them and gravity back together, they weren't my real target after all and I had no need for hostages when I already knew the outcome.
"Seamstress? What are you doing here? There's a villain around here somewhere and I need you somewhere safe..."
Wait a second, does he actually care about me?
"...so you can fix my suit afterwards"
Of course, all he cared about was his stupid suit. It wasn't even creative, he basically looked like Superman but with an A instead of an S on his chest. Well, he wouldn't be needing it after this was all over anyway, I would make sure of that.
"Oh Alpha, do I really mean that little to you that you didn't even consider for even a fraction of a second that the one you're looking for is right in front of you? That all I'm good for is fixing your suit? You don't even care to bother learning my real name"
A confused and slightly amused look appeared on his face as he said "Why would I ever bother learning your name when you aren't even a real hero? You're just the guy that fixes our clothes. Besides, what can you possibly do to me that all of the real villains haven't tried before?".
Oh how I love the way he sets himself up for failure like that, I can't hold back the devious smile that creeps onto my face.
"Because, you Clark Kent knockoff, I'm magnitudes more powerful than you will ever hope to be, and I'm going to make you and all of the other heroes pay for underestimating me"
He doesn't even try to hold back his laughter, the mere idea of somebody he deems beneath him being stronger than him is obviously hilarious to him. I decide to cut his laughter short as I unstitch him from the concept of flight and he plummets down to the ground like a bag of rocks, earning him a few scrapes and scratches that quickly heal.
He stands up and dusts himself off before he says "You developed gravity manipulation, so what? I don't need to fly to beat you, I could beat you easily with one arm behind my back. And there's enough cameras around here to prove it to everyone.
Oh good, so he finally noticed all of the reporters gathering here after my little "Anonymous tip" earlier about Alpha fighting a new villain. Well, time to give them the show they came here for.
"You see it's funny that you say that..." I start before I snap my fingers and he very quickly has his dominant arm irremovably attached to his back "...because I'm sure all of your adoring fans at home would love to see you try when you don't have a choice in the matter. Unfortunately, I'm afraid you're going to be letting them all down".
|
I am a super hero in a world of amazing powers. There are amazing powers like the ability to fly, be invincible and even immortality. However, my power is to teleport exactly 1.2 feet away. I am the laughing stock of my family. Everyone makes fun of “1.2 Ft. Teleportation Man”. It sounds helpful right? Wrong. It can only be 1.2 feet anway and because it’s such a specific distance it’s hard to estimate how far away something is so it awlays off by a bit. Pick up a ball. It is actually 1.2 feetvaway, my foot is now inside the ball.
After years of reduclation, I decide to stand up to myself. I learn to move 1.2 feet every 0.1 milliseconds, making me incredibly fast, and nearly impossible to hit. On top of this, I can teleport into someone body, and rip there heart out.
|
DirtyRubenLove
|
Ok_Relief7546
|
2024-07-30 01:55:57
|
2024-07-30 01:21:21
| 17 | 10 |
lfl3rzv
|
lfkygpa
|
1eewvkg
|
1eewvkg
|
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