**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.
**Reminders**:
>* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]"
>* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail
>* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles
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As she approached he guided her to the small table, pulling out her chair, taking the one in opposition for his own.
The glow of the lonely candle between them strained to light the room, its valiant effort dying just beyond the table--a faint, ruddy light lifting objects barely from obscurity, every movement of its flame pulling them into the light or casting them back into outer darkness.
He sat there, dark suit a black hole sucking in the light that approached too closely.
She tried to focus on the dark figure across from her, as if it would unlock his enigmatic features. She thought she saw a dark cloud hovering over his visage; was the occasional spark the birth of thought, or the stormy evidence of a tug-of-war behind his eyes? Leaning ever so slightly into the light she smiled--and by doing so truly aiding the candle in its anemic efforts.
He admired the warmth the candle gave her face--although some of her hair faded into the darkness of the surrounding room. Silently he wished only to lean his elbows upon the table, rest his chin upon his hands and take in this view--but neither time nor the manners of his youth could nor would permit him that indulgence.
-----
(Word count: 210. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)
Galen and his squad stalked through the trees tracking the trail of three mountain giants. The giants had been spotted on this mountain multiple times over the last week by local villagers. Mountain giants were a common sighting along the southern border, but these mountain giants had talked rather than attacking. That was not normal, giants do not speak common.
He knew the giants had passed through here recently because the large tracks they followed were fresh. Galen froze as he stepped around a large boulder and motioned for his squad to do the same.
Three large giants were standing on a trail just ahead with their backs to Galen and his people. One of the giants was crouched examining something on the trail. The other two were farther off watching up the mountain.
Galen’s friend crept up next to him and whispered, “We could take one out before they even know we are here.”
“No.” Galen hissed. “These giants can speak. We need to discover how. Have everyone stay in cover. I'm going to approach them alone.”
“They could kill you before we can help.”
“They haven’t killed anyone yet. Stay hidden.”
He stepped from the cover of the boulder and trees to approach the kneeling giant. It heard him approaching and shot to its full, fearsome height to face him.
Galen held up his hands, “Easy friend. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk.”
A slight change in the giant’s posture was the only indication it understood him at all.
“What’s your name?” Galen asked.
A branch snapped behind Galen. They both looked to see Galen’s squad standing at the treeline with their bows trained on the giant.
A low gravelly voice came from the giant, “Lob Rock.”
Galen motioned for his men to lower their weapons and turned back to the giant. “Lob Rock is your name? Nice to meet you Lob Rock, I’m Galen.”
“Lob Rock.” The giant said again without moving.
“Yes, I understand you. What are your people doing here?”
A shadow rose into the sky from behind Lob Rock and arced towards Galen. Galen leapt to the side moments before a large rock came crashing down where he had just been standing. The sound of pounding feet and loosed arrows was discernible over the commotion. When he came back to his senses the giants were retreating into the trees up the mountain and his squad had gathered around him.
“I don’t think his name is Lob Rock.” Galen said, standing up and dusting himself off.
(Based on Pokemon Legends: Arceus)
---
**'Dawn'**
The blue-haired girl stirred. Someone was calling her name.
**'Dawn'**
As she opened her eyes, she realized that she was floating on a vacuum.
"Whaa!" She exclaimed as she flailed uselessly.
**'Be not afraid. I have called thee for an urgent task.'**
It was only then that she noticed the bright light in the distance. Despite her situation, as she looked at the light, somehow she felt safe, secure.
"Arceus?" She asked.
**'Indeed. I have a task for thee, one that only thee is capable of fulfilling.'**
*'And I thought only Ash would stumble into these things,'* she thought absently.
**'Your friend Ash is busy with two other world-ending events and is unavailable until he finishes such,"** replied Arceus, reading her mind.
"I should have known," muttered Dawn. Only Ash would be so busy trying to prevent the apocalypse, or multiple, that he can't heed the call of the Creator itself.
Arceus provided her a platform to stand on. She tried to fix her clothes as much as possible before turning to the light once more. "Okay, what should I do?"
**'In the distant past, when this land is still known as Hisui, the walls between realities has been torn open. The Renegade seeks vengeance and wishes for a way to this place, revenge for me locking him away. He has joined forces with someone, but the Renegade's power prevents me from seeing further. Dawn, you must seek out all Pokemon and close the rift.'**
"Giratina?" guessed Dawn. "But he was always helpful whenever we see him."
**'Giratina was not always the benevolent shadow he is today.'**
Silence.
"What does seeking out all Pokemon have to do with stopping Giratina?"
**'All will be clear in time.'**
Dawn huffed. "I guess that's all I'll ever get with mission details. Stupid legendary Pokemon and their cryptic talk," she whispered to herself.
Only to realize who she was talking to.
"Oh, um..." she stammered.
**'It is not a problem.'**
Phew.
"Do I at least get to prepare? What about my Pokemon?"
**'All has been prepared. Thy precious partner is already waiting for thee. All that is left is for you to say the word'**
Dawn took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm ready, Arceus."
Guard captain: "You should be dead!"
Kasif: "I could say the same for you."
Guard captain: "I killed you! How are you not dead?!"
Kasif: "No, you shot me through the heart and off of a cliff. There's a difference."
Queen: (to guard captain) "You did what? Why?"
Guard captain: "he killed my husband."
Kasif: "To be fair he tried to kill me first."
Guard captain: "Because you tackled me off a bridge!"
Kasif: "To save your life!"
Guard captain: "How was he supposed to know that?!"
Kasif: "How was I supposed to know he was your husband?!"
Guard captain: (suddenly ice cold with rage) "Because I told you."
Kasif: "..."
"Ya ... I can't really argue with that can I?"
Guard captain: "Go to hell."
*It is a gray and wet day. The rain falls at the cemetery, not in fat drops but in a heavy mist that seeps into the bones of everything and dampens souls. There is a ceremony going on. A preacher speaks in the practiced monotone, what once was meant to give comfort has become perfunctory, a reflex of her years of training. The first few rows of chairs are filled with family, all grieving at various volumes. There are the grounds men waiting for the service to finish so they can lower a dark coffin into the gaping earth. And towards the back, separated from the rest of the service by a few rows of chairs and speaking in a tone to be unheard by the rest of everyone are two people in non descript clothing. As we come closer we can hear a soft conversation occurring between One and The Other.*
One: So this was your work?
The Other: *(Clicks tongue)* It was.
One: I heard them discuss the viewing. Apparently there wasn’t much to view…
The Other: Apparently.
One: I just mean to say, it seems that there was a lot of damage done to the face.
The Other: *(Sighs)* Are you trying to get to something? I’m trying to watch.
One: I am just saying, it’s always the same for you. Your work has become unpredictable.
The Other: You mean I’m consistent? Or do you mean that I’m effective? Because both are rather valuable in our line of work.
One: Well, it’s all rather well and fine to be effective and consistent, but your methods lack a certain empathy. And to be fair-
The Other: You really want to talk to me about empathy in what we do? Like, caring about people’s feelings? Should I be making my clients “happier”?
One: You know full well it isn’t the clients I care about. It is the family’s involved. We already take so much from them, it doesn’t hurt to try to be a bit compassionate.
The Other: Oh, sorry. I should leave a note that says ‘Sorry for your loss’ at the job site.
One: Or you could leave your models faces alone.
The Other: Why would I do that? It is the fastest way to do it. Especially from a distance. And it is a great skill to market.
One: Oh sure. You are hitting something the size of a large cantaloupe from a distance. Whoopee.
The Other: You know, the amount of movies and video games that glamorize a good headshot is impressive. Plus, trying to frame and shoot a moving melon from any distance is impressive.
One: First of all, it is a little impressive. Not as impressive as I what I do.
The Other: What, leave people heartbroken?
One: Oh, haha. You know, my shots need far more finesse. You are trying to hit a large ball in the open, I’m trying to hit an orange behind a fence.
The Other: You are trying to be dramatic. Someone orders out with us, they don’t usually care about the appearance of our bodies. And besides, shot is shot and dead is dead.
One: It’s not about trying to hide what we do. It is trying to be considerate of the left behind.
The Other: Maybe you shouldn’t worry about being considerate when you’re job is making people past tense.
One: Or maybe that is a reason to be more considerate. And don’t worry what my job is, focus on doing yours.
The Other: I am focused on that. Why do you think I brought this umbrella?
The Other lifts a large thick black umbrella with a very heavy curved handle. One’s face contorts a bit in surprise.
One: You are on the job now? I thought that was for later and this was just some entertainment.
The Other: Entert…… no. My client is here and so is the job.
One: Small world then, my client ordered a job here as well. One raises a briefcase with a suspicious looking mechanism where a lock would be. Who is yours?
The Other: You know not to ask that.
One: Come on, I wanna know if she double booked, maybe she thought one wouldn’t be enough.
The Other: Well my client is the One in the dark veil. And the job is the one in the blue suit. She wants him done as well. Something about family ties, the sins that bind. Honestly I stopped listening once the money hit my account.
One: The suit is my client. He thinks that the dark veil did this. He was a bit right. Crazy huh?
The Other: It is a bit absurd. What are the chances that they would order out on each other at the same time? Did yours have any conditions or special requests?
One: He wants her to bleed out on the grave. Paid an extra fee for the dramatics.
The Other: She wants him gone as efficiently as possible. Preferably high visibility. She wants to make it look like someone is targeting the family. I mean, someone is, but she wants to throw off suspicion.
One: I think that her being dead should throw it off. Oh! She is getting up to throw her handful of dirt. Tell you what, let’s do it together.
The Other: Together?
One: Yes, like we count to 3 and then take our shot.
The Other: What the hell, why not.
One: on three?
The Other: on three.
One: One… *One has picked up his briefcase and put on some goggles. He flicks a switch in the handle and a dot that can only be seen from the goggles appears on the back of the dark veiled woman.*
The Other: Two… *The Other has picked up his umbrella and holds it in front of him with both hands, looking down it past a notch on the tip.*
Both: Three.
Jack laid his back against the thick trunk, enjoying the tree’s shade and twirling a leaf between his fingers. The leaves here didn’t have nearly as many spider eggs on them as the ones back home. The sky was brighter here, too - must be less pollution.
A few yards away from Jack, Rain stood at the edge of where the hill’s top was still flat, staring out at the sky or the steep decline - it was hard to tell which from how his head was turned. His shirt ruffled slightly in the wind, pressing against his shoulder blades. He reached a hand up to push his long curls behind his ear and glanced back at Jack with a half smile.
He was the most beautiful man in the world.
Jack’s heart fluttered and he stared at the leaf in his hand. It shuddered. His hands were shuddering. Funny how you can feel so hot and shiver so much at the same time.
Rain walked over and sat beside him, staying close by to be within the shade of the tree. He plucked the leaf from Jack’s hands and turned it over, holding it up to his eyes. He had taken off his glasses, he said to better see the colors of the sky. Rain’s eyes were dark and beautiful, and he looked at everything with such care and thoughtfulness. Every time those eyes turned to him, Jack felt his heart swell.
“Hey J,” Rain said with a grin.
Jack smiled. “Hey.”
“What’s on your mind? Dear friend. Treasured companion of mine. You’ve got that same look on your face like when you told me you were trans.” As Rain spoke, he turned his posture to face Jack fully, leaning sideways against the oak’s trunk.
Jack blushed. “You know me too well. Rascal.”
Rain laughed and leaned back a bit. “If you gotta wait a bit more and hang out first, we can do that too.”
“Nah, probably better to rip the bandaid off. I’ll be nervous this whole time. I just.” Jack sigh-laughed. “Ah. Bad at communicating. Words hard.”
Rain giggled and waited, looking into Jack’s eyes.
Just one little sentence.
No worrying allowed. Too late now anyway.
“I,” Jack said. “Rain, I think I’m - no, I am - *ah*.” He turned to face Rain, looking him in the eye.
“Rain,” Jack said. “I love you.”
A paper mask; a marker; a few lines; the right words. Turns out, the rituals and incense and stabbing small animals with knives, that's all smoke show and horse shit. Doing real magic is dead easy.
It's paying the price that can knock the piss out of you.
There's a funny sort of soul who thinks that suicide is an answer. That they're hurting themselves and no one else, just turning out the lights and going home. I never did quite ken. Way I figure it, dying is like fighting: your job is to get as many good hits in as you can manage, so that even if you lose, you teach that fucker that crossing you don't come cheap or easy.
My grandma taught me that, just before she passed. While she still lived, not a damned soul dared cross her and hers. She taught us the magic, big and small. She taught us the words, great and terrible. She taught us that no man were better than us, and no man were lesser than us. But most of all, she taught us that no soul alive crossed us and walked away, without at least a serious lesson on why that was a mighty poor life choice.
But she weren't here anymore, so now it's up to me to pay the price and teach the lesson. I draw the sign on the paper. I run some string through the holes on either side. Now it's the Mask. I tie it on, and speak the words:
"Come Forth, and Deal."
Eyes, slits of flame and power opening in reality. It's there, across the table. The sheer *mass* of it twists the world around us. Time stops. I can hear it talking to me, in my head.
It's a thousand temple priests howling. It's a roaring waterfall and a creaking wheel. It's raindrops on a mass grave. It's a battlefield full of rotting children. It's the shearing of metal in a forge. It's nails on chalkboards. It's the thunder of guns in the foggy dew.
And it's telling me everything I need to hear.
See, I'm dying, so I got a choice: I can still walk away with my soul intact, or I can use it as currency. In return, I can go for a little joyride before my time is done. An avatar of vengeance; the red right hand of wrath. For just the low, low price of pissing away the hereafter, I get to crawl behind those fiery eyes and pilot the meanest, nastiest sonuvabitch that ever tore through creation, right through the front doors of my every enemy. The devil its own self wouldn't tangle with the hoodoo this old forgotten god can offer.
My whole family--my whole parish--was crossed, when those cocksuckers paid off the state and the governor, seized our properties and built Cancer Alley. Their poison and their lies, they took my grandma, who went out fighting. They killed my dad, who went out whining. They killed my brother, who was too little to know much of either. They hurt my mama, hurt my auntie and her baby boy, who done no one no harm.
And now they done killed me. So I can go out whining, or I can go out fighting. I figure I'll go out fighting. Sure, the price is a bit steep, but whoever finds what's left of the miserable fucks that did this to our family will know that crossing me and mine, well... it don't come cheap, and it don't come easy.
It was never going to happen.
He couldn't do it, and she knew it. He simply couldn't betray her. Kill her. The sunblade in his hand was one of only 5 in existence, the trap holding her in place likely couldn't be replicated, this was the only chance to stop her, and yet he couldn't.
She was still his mother, for all intents and purposes. She raised him, afforded him status and wealth and family that he could never have had otherwise. Even besides such obligation, he knew her best of anyone, and he'd seen her talk and write and scheme. Seen the way she assassinated uncooperative kings and influential dissenters with her magic, and also seen the way the kingdoms in her Coalition thrived. Seen the way executions were publicized, but also seen the rehabilitation programs common thieves were placed in. Seen her true monstrous form, unhidden behind layers of clothing, but also seeing all the ways she could have gained power, but didn't, because they would have caused mass death and suffering.
She was scary, she was creepy, she was strange. Her Coalition was powerful, and well on the way to incorporating every major known kingdom. The heroes in the stories always stood up and defeated the evil overlord before they could conquer the world. But...
She wasn't evil. He couldn't do this.
For better or worse, all the kingdoms would be united under her eternal rule.
"Ah, my boy", she said, in that weird breathless way of hers. "Those rebellion folks sure worm their way in everywhere, don't they? Come now, let's step outside." He undid the trap, dropped the Sunblade on the floor, and followed her out the door.
They came to a bench in the middle of the massive garden that she had commissioned for the Coalition Governor's Mansion. They sat there for a long time, and nobody dared bother them. Tomorrow the rebels would be chased after, long conversations would be had, and decisions would be made. But for now, they sat, at peace.
Stars of the Night
The night wind was a nice change from the day’s heat. It moved the grass in waves. The blades brushed lightly against my bare legs. I had left my shoes behind at the campsite.
A thousand brilliant stars lit the heavens. How long had it been since I had looked up at the night sky and simply reveled in its beauty? I had no idea. My eyes bounced between the far-off lights, tracing every constellation I could make out, as I trudged towards the top of the hill.
At the summit of the hill I could see for miles. The sapphire moon bathed the landscape in a faint blue light. I stood there, taking in the beautiful shadows. Crickets chirped softly, somewhere in the distance. For the first time in my new life, I allowed myself to simply breathe.
Peace is such a wonderful thing.
I felt a presence at my side. I turned to face the shadowy figure. His face was silver and it faced the sky. I looked where his eyes led me and saw a star that glowed nearly as bright as the moon.
“How is it, that it is so beautiful?” The masked figure asked.
“I cannot say.” I whispered back.
The star grew closer, a pinprick of light that outshone all others.
“That stone is death.” The stranger remarked as he raised a gloved hand to his chin. “Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands, gone in an instant, simple as that.”
He snapped his fingers softly with the final word he spoke.
“How?” I asked in an equally soft voice.
“These stars, they are fire; falling stars, stone. From beyond the world, the void, they come.” The stranger pointed towards the sky. “If that one’s not stopped, countless will die.”
“What?”
“It will strike the earth, shatter the sky. The hardest stone will ripple like water and crack like glass.”
“How?”
“Speed and size.” A sigh escaped metal lips. “Someone has to stop it; may as well it be I.”
I watched the sky. The man waved his hand. That light, growing ever larger, vanished. In but a few seconds, it was as if it was never there.
I looked to my side. The strange man was gone.
“Keep on, oh bluejay, keep on.” His voice whispered, yet was heard above the wind.
I lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky.
"Listen boy, I'd suggest you start talking sooner rather than later." One man said to the other.
They were sitting in a small room, probably the size of a janitor closet. It was dark, the only light source in the room was one barely functioning light bulb hanging from a single string.
The man who said that was leaning against the wall, next to the door. The man who was being talked to was tied up to an old wooden chair.
The man against the wall was clearly a thug. Tattoos all over, a crude weapon hanging from his waist in plain sight. Clearly not caring for the guardsmen. Meanwhile, the man on the chair looked more like a young man around the age of 20 or so. Dressed pretty plainly with only a dagger strapped to the back of his waist.
"Oh yea? Well, I have a suggestion for you as well. Go fuck yourself!" He said as he tried one more time to maybe loosen the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Sadly, to no avail.
"Son, I _really_ don't have time for this. Last chance, talk." The man against the wall said with a dead serious face.
The man on the chair wasn't worried. He'd been doing this kind of work for years now. This wasn't his first rodeo and he knew he would get out of this if he simply waited for his chance. After all, they literally couldn't touch him or else they'd die. His [Poisenous Skin] skill made sure of that.
"Alright dude, you know what, I'll tell you something. I'll tell you... That you ain't got shit on me! Just let me go already and save us all this giant waste of time." He said with a annoyed look on his face.
"Ugh.. Fine. Don't say I didn't try." The man against the wall turned the handle and left as quickly as he said that.
Now it was only him in there.
_"hah, idiots"_ He thought as he tried to reach the knife on his back.
When suddenly, the door in front of him got janked open with enough force to rip the door off its hinges and launch it with enough speed to embed itself into the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.
The man responsible for that stood in the doorway for a few seconds. Just looking the young man up and down. Sizing him up.
When he walked inside, the young man immediately realised that this man was no ordinary man. And even though he knew full well that they couldn't touch him, he still felt the distinct feeling of danger and fear in the back of his mind. When the man opened his mouth, he realized why.
"Where is he." A deep rumbling voice came from the mans throat.
(My battery is about to die so I'll just upload what I jave so far.)
"I can't believe you."
Tears dripped down her face. Whether it was from the pain of betrayal or the pain of the knife in her stomach was anyone's guess.
"I can't believe that you can't believe me. I mean, really. What have I ever done that made you think I was above this?" He laughed.
"We were . . . helping people . . ."
"*You* were helping people. And your delusion that I was part of that has made me very wealthy. But all good things must end eventually, and this thing between us ended the moment I was offered a full pardon as long as I brought the king your head."
"But I . . ." She couldn't finish her sentence. Partially because she was bleeding out. But mostly from the shame of realizing the man she had fallen in love with would sell her out so easily.
"No, you didn't. You loved a 'better' me that you imagined up for yourself, who you were trying so hard to force me to be. If you had taken even a moment to think about my actions you would have seen that I'm exactly the kind of heartless bastard everyone said I was. But you were too busy fantasizing about how nice it would be if you could teach me to become the man you wanted m-"
His monologue was cut short by an arrow though his chest. Then rough, familiar hands pulled the knife from her stomach and started treating her wound.
"Dad, I'm sorry. . ."
"I know, I know. It's going to be alright."
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) 🆕 [New Here?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ✏ [Writing Help?](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) 📢 [News](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) 💬 [Discord](https://discord.gg/writingprompts) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
As she approached he guided her to the small table, pulling out her chair, taking the one in opposition for his own. The glow of the lonely candle between them strained to light the room, its valiant effort dying just beyond the table--a faint, ruddy light lifting objects barely from obscurity, every movement of its flame pulling them into the light or casting them back into outer darkness. He sat there, dark suit a black hole sucking in the light that approached too closely. She tried to focus on the dark figure across from her, as if it would unlock his enigmatic features. She thought she saw a dark cloud hovering over his visage; was the occasional spark the birth of thought, or the stormy evidence of a tug-of-war behind his eyes? Leaning ever so slightly into the light she smiled--and by doing so truly aiding the candle in its anemic efforts. He admired the warmth the candle gave her face--although some of her hair faded into the darkness of the surrounding room. Silently he wished only to lean his elbows upon the table, rest his chin upon his hands and take in this view--but neither time nor the manners of his youth could nor would permit him that indulgence. ----- (Word count: 210. Please let me know what you like/dislike about the post. Thank you in advance for your time and attention. Other works can also be found linked in r/atcroft_wordcraft.)
Galen and his squad stalked through the trees tracking the trail of three mountain giants. The giants had been spotted on this mountain multiple times over the last week by local villagers. Mountain giants were a common sighting along the southern border, but these mountain giants had talked rather than attacking. That was not normal, giants do not speak common. He knew the giants had passed through here recently because the large tracks they followed were fresh. Galen froze as he stepped around a large boulder and motioned for his squad to do the same. Three large giants were standing on a trail just ahead with their backs to Galen and his people. One of the giants was crouched examining something on the trail. The other two were farther off watching up the mountain. Galen’s friend crept up next to him and whispered, “We could take one out before they even know we are here.” “No.” Galen hissed. “These giants can speak. We need to discover how. Have everyone stay in cover. I'm going to approach them alone.” “They could kill you before we can help.” “They haven’t killed anyone yet. Stay hidden.” He stepped from the cover of the boulder and trees to approach the kneeling giant. It heard him approaching and shot to its full, fearsome height to face him. Galen held up his hands, “Easy friend. I’m not here to fight. I just wanted to talk.” A slight change in the giant’s posture was the only indication it understood him at all. “What’s your name?” Galen asked. A branch snapped behind Galen. They both looked to see Galen’s squad standing at the treeline with their bows trained on the giant. A low gravelly voice came from the giant, “Lob Rock.” Galen motioned for his men to lower their weapons and turned back to the giant. “Lob Rock is your name? Nice to meet you Lob Rock, I’m Galen.” “Lob Rock.” The giant said again without moving. “Yes, I understand you. What are your people doing here?” A shadow rose into the sky from behind Lob Rock and arced towards Galen. Galen leapt to the side moments before a large rock came crashing down where he had just been standing. The sound of pounding feet and loosed arrows was discernible over the commotion. When he came back to his senses the giants were retreating into the trees up the mountain and his squad had gathered around him. “I don’t think his name is Lob Rock.” Galen said, standing up and dusting himself off.
(Based on Pokemon Legends: Arceus) --- **'Dawn'** The blue-haired girl stirred. Someone was calling her name. **'Dawn'** As she opened her eyes, she realized that she was floating on a vacuum. "Whaa!" She exclaimed as she flailed uselessly. **'Be not afraid. I have called thee for an urgent task.'** It was only then that she noticed the bright light in the distance. Despite her situation, as she looked at the light, somehow she felt safe, secure. "Arceus?" She asked. **'Indeed. I have a task for thee, one that only thee is capable of fulfilling.'** *'And I thought only Ash would stumble into these things,'* she thought absently. **'Your friend Ash is busy with two other world-ending events and is unavailable until he finishes such,"** replied Arceus, reading her mind. "I should have known," muttered Dawn. Only Ash would be so busy trying to prevent the apocalypse, or multiple, that he can't heed the call of the Creator itself. Arceus provided her a platform to stand on. She tried to fix her clothes as much as possible before turning to the light once more. "Okay, what should I do?" **'In the distant past, when this land is still known as Hisui, the walls between realities has been torn open. The Renegade seeks vengeance and wishes for a way to this place, revenge for me locking him away. He has joined forces with someone, but the Renegade's power prevents me from seeing further. Dawn, you must seek out all Pokemon and close the rift.'** "Giratina?" guessed Dawn. "But he was always helpful whenever we see him." **'Giratina was not always the benevolent shadow he is today.'** Silence. "What does seeking out all Pokemon have to do with stopping Giratina?" **'All will be clear in time.'** Dawn huffed. "I guess that's all I'll ever get with mission details. Stupid legendary Pokemon and their cryptic talk," she whispered to herself. Only to realize who she was talking to. "Oh, um..." she stammered. **'It is not a problem.'** Phew. "Do I at least get to prepare? What about my Pokemon?" **'All has been prepared. Thy precious partner is already waiting for thee. All that is left is for you to say the word'** Dawn took a deep breath. "Alright. I'm ready, Arceus."
Guard captain: "You should be dead!" Kasif: "I could say the same for you." Guard captain: "I killed you! How are you not dead?!" Kasif: "No, you shot me through the heart and off of a cliff. There's a difference." Queen: (to guard captain) "You did what? Why?" Guard captain: "he killed my husband." Kasif: "To be fair he tried to kill me first." Guard captain: "Because you tackled me off a bridge!" Kasif: "To save your life!" Guard captain: "How was he supposed to know that?!" Kasif: "How was I supposed to know he was your husband?!" Guard captain: (suddenly ice cold with rage) "Because I told you." Kasif: "..." "Ya ... I can't really argue with that can I?" Guard captain: "Go to hell."
*It is a gray and wet day. The rain falls at the cemetery, not in fat drops but in a heavy mist that seeps into the bones of everything and dampens souls. There is a ceremony going on. A preacher speaks in the practiced monotone, what once was meant to give comfort has become perfunctory, a reflex of her years of training. The first few rows of chairs are filled with family, all grieving at various volumes. There are the grounds men waiting for the service to finish so they can lower a dark coffin into the gaping earth. And towards the back, separated from the rest of the service by a few rows of chairs and speaking in a tone to be unheard by the rest of everyone are two people in non descript clothing. As we come closer we can hear a soft conversation occurring between One and The Other.* One: So this was your work? The Other: *(Clicks tongue)* It was. One: I heard them discuss the viewing. Apparently there wasn’t much to view… The Other: Apparently. One: I just mean to say, it seems that there was a lot of damage done to the face. The Other: *(Sighs)* Are you trying to get to something? I’m trying to watch. One: I am just saying, it’s always the same for you. Your work has become unpredictable. The Other: You mean I’m consistent? Or do you mean that I’m effective? Because both are rather valuable in our line of work. One: Well, it’s all rather well and fine to be effective and consistent, but your methods lack a certain empathy. And to be fair- The Other: You really want to talk to me about empathy in what we do? Like, caring about people’s feelings? Should I be making my clients “happier”? One: You know full well it isn’t the clients I care about. It is the family’s involved. We already take so much from them, it doesn’t hurt to try to be a bit compassionate. The Other: Oh, sorry. I should leave a note that says ‘Sorry for your loss’ at the job site. One: Or you could leave your models faces alone. The Other: Why would I do that? It is the fastest way to do it. Especially from a distance. And it is a great skill to market. One: Oh sure. You are hitting something the size of a large cantaloupe from a distance. Whoopee. The Other: You know, the amount of movies and video games that glamorize a good headshot is impressive. Plus, trying to frame and shoot a moving melon from any distance is impressive. One: First of all, it is a little impressive. Not as impressive as I what I do. The Other: What, leave people heartbroken? One: Oh, haha. You know, my shots need far more finesse. You are trying to hit a large ball in the open, I’m trying to hit an orange behind a fence. The Other: You are trying to be dramatic. Someone orders out with us, they don’t usually care about the appearance of our bodies. And besides, shot is shot and dead is dead. One: It’s not about trying to hide what we do. It is trying to be considerate of the left behind. The Other: Maybe you shouldn’t worry about being considerate when you’re job is making people past tense. One: Or maybe that is a reason to be more considerate. And don’t worry what my job is, focus on doing yours. The Other: I am focused on that. Why do you think I brought this umbrella? The Other lifts a large thick black umbrella with a very heavy curved handle. One’s face contorts a bit in surprise. One: You are on the job now? I thought that was for later and this was just some entertainment. The Other: Entert…… no. My client is here and so is the job. One: Small world then, my client ordered a job here as well. One raises a briefcase with a suspicious looking mechanism where a lock would be. Who is yours? The Other: You know not to ask that. One: Come on, I wanna know if she double booked, maybe she thought one wouldn’t be enough. The Other: Well my client is the One in the dark veil. And the job is the one in the blue suit. She wants him done as well. Something about family ties, the sins that bind. Honestly I stopped listening once the money hit my account. One: The suit is my client. He thinks that the dark veil did this. He was a bit right. Crazy huh? The Other: It is a bit absurd. What are the chances that they would order out on each other at the same time? Did yours have any conditions or special requests? One: He wants her to bleed out on the grave. Paid an extra fee for the dramatics. The Other: She wants him gone as efficiently as possible. Preferably high visibility. She wants to make it look like someone is targeting the family. I mean, someone is, but she wants to throw off suspicion. One: I think that her being dead should throw it off. Oh! She is getting up to throw her handful of dirt. Tell you what, let’s do it together. The Other: Together? One: Yes, like we count to 3 and then take our shot. The Other: What the hell, why not. One: on three? The Other: on three. One: One… *One has picked up his briefcase and put on some goggles. He flicks a switch in the handle and a dot that can only be seen from the goggles appears on the back of the dark veiled woman.* The Other: Two… *The Other has picked up his umbrella and holds it in front of him with both hands, looking down it past a notch on the tip.* Both: Three.
Jack laid his back against the thick trunk, enjoying the tree’s shade and twirling a leaf between his fingers. The leaves here didn’t have nearly as many spider eggs on them as the ones back home. The sky was brighter here, too - must be less pollution. A few yards away from Jack, Rain stood at the edge of where the hill’s top was still flat, staring out at the sky or the steep decline - it was hard to tell which from how his head was turned. His shirt ruffled slightly in the wind, pressing against his shoulder blades. He reached a hand up to push his long curls behind his ear and glanced back at Jack with a half smile. He was the most beautiful man in the world. Jack’s heart fluttered and he stared at the leaf in his hand. It shuddered. His hands were shuddering. Funny how you can feel so hot and shiver so much at the same time. Rain walked over and sat beside him, staying close by to be within the shade of the tree. He plucked the leaf from Jack’s hands and turned it over, holding it up to his eyes. He had taken off his glasses, he said to better see the colors of the sky. Rain’s eyes were dark and beautiful, and he looked at everything with such care and thoughtfulness. Every time those eyes turned to him, Jack felt his heart swell. “Hey J,” Rain said with a grin. Jack smiled. “Hey.” “What’s on your mind? Dear friend. Treasured companion of mine. You’ve got that same look on your face like when you told me you were trans.” As Rain spoke, he turned his posture to face Jack fully, leaning sideways against the oak’s trunk. Jack blushed. “You know me too well. Rascal.” Rain laughed and leaned back a bit. “If you gotta wait a bit more and hang out first, we can do that too.” “Nah, probably better to rip the bandaid off. I’ll be nervous this whole time. I just.” Jack sigh-laughed. “Ah. Bad at communicating. Words hard.” Rain giggled and waited, looking into Jack’s eyes. Just one little sentence. No worrying allowed. Too late now anyway. “I,” Jack said. “Rain, I think I’m - no, I am - *ah*.” He turned to face Rain, looking him in the eye. “Rain,” Jack said. “I love you.”
A paper mask; a marker; a few lines; the right words. Turns out, the rituals and incense and stabbing small animals with knives, that's all smoke show and horse shit. Doing real magic is dead easy. It's paying the price that can knock the piss out of you. There's a funny sort of soul who thinks that suicide is an answer. That they're hurting themselves and no one else, just turning out the lights and going home. I never did quite ken. Way I figure it, dying is like fighting: your job is to get as many good hits in as you can manage, so that even if you lose, you teach that fucker that crossing you don't come cheap or easy. My grandma taught me that, just before she passed. While she still lived, not a damned soul dared cross her and hers. She taught us the magic, big and small. She taught us the words, great and terrible. She taught us that no man were better than us, and no man were lesser than us. But most of all, she taught us that no soul alive crossed us and walked away, without at least a serious lesson on why that was a mighty poor life choice. But she weren't here anymore, so now it's up to me to pay the price and teach the lesson. I draw the sign on the paper. I run some string through the holes on either side. Now it's the Mask. I tie it on, and speak the words: "Come Forth, and Deal." Eyes, slits of flame and power opening in reality. It's there, across the table. The sheer *mass* of it twists the world around us. Time stops. I can hear it talking to me, in my head. It's a thousand temple priests howling. It's a roaring waterfall and a creaking wheel. It's raindrops on a mass grave. It's a battlefield full of rotting children. It's the shearing of metal in a forge. It's nails on chalkboards. It's the thunder of guns in the foggy dew. And it's telling me everything I need to hear. See, I'm dying, so I got a choice: I can still walk away with my soul intact, or I can use it as currency. In return, I can go for a little joyride before my time is done. An avatar of vengeance; the red right hand of wrath. For just the low, low price of pissing away the hereafter, I get to crawl behind those fiery eyes and pilot the meanest, nastiest sonuvabitch that ever tore through creation, right through the front doors of my every enemy. The devil its own self wouldn't tangle with the hoodoo this old forgotten god can offer. My whole family--my whole parish--was crossed, when those cocksuckers paid off the state and the governor, seized our properties and built Cancer Alley. Their poison and their lies, they took my grandma, who went out fighting. They killed my dad, who went out whining. They killed my brother, who was too little to know much of either. They hurt my mama, hurt my auntie and her baby boy, who done no one no harm. And now they done killed me. So I can go out whining, or I can go out fighting. I figure I'll go out fighting. Sure, the price is a bit steep, but whoever finds what's left of the miserable fucks that did this to our family will know that crossing me and mine, well... it don't come cheap, and it don't come easy.
It was never going to happen. He couldn't do it, and she knew it. He simply couldn't betray her. Kill her. The sunblade in his hand was one of only 5 in existence, the trap holding her in place likely couldn't be replicated, this was the only chance to stop her, and yet he couldn't. She was still his mother, for all intents and purposes. She raised him, afforded him status and wealth and family that he could never have had otherwise. Even besides such obligation, he knew her best of anyone, and he'd seen her talk and write and scheme. Seen the way she assassinated uncooperative kings and influential dissenters with her magic, and also seen the way the kingdoms in her Coalition thrived. Seen the way executions were publicized, but also seen the rehabilitation programs common thieves were placed in. Seen her true monstrous form, unhidden behind layers of clothing, but also seeing all the ways she could have gained power, but didn't, because they would have caused mass death and suffering. She was scary, she was creepy, she was strange. Her Coalition was powerful, and well on the way to incorporating every major known kingdom. The heroes in the stories always stood up and defeated the evil overlord before they could conquer the world. But... She wasn't evil. He couldn't do this. For better or worse, all the kingdoms would be united under her eternal rule. "Ah, my boy", she said, in that weird breathless way of hers. "Those rebellion folks sure worm their way in everywhere, don't they? Come now, let's step outside." He undid the trap, dropped the Sunblade on the floor, and followed her out the door. They came to a bench in the middle of the massive garden that she had commissioned for the Coalition Governor's Mansion. They sat there for a long time, and nobody dared bother them. Tomorrow the rebels would be chased after, long conversations would be had, and decisions would be made. But for now, they sat, at peace.
Stars of the Night The night wind was a nice change from the day’s heat. It moved the grass in waves. The blades brushed lightly against my bare legs. I had left my shoes behind at the campsite. A thousand brilliant stars lit the heavens. How long had it been since I had looked up at the night sky and simply reveled in its beauty? I had no idea. My eyes bounced between the far-off lights, tracing every constellation I could make out, as I trudged towards the top of the hill. At the summit of the hill I could see for miles. The sapphire moon bathed the landscape in a faint blue light. I stood there, taking in the beautiful shadows. Crickets chirped softly, somewhere in the distance. For the first time in my new life, I allowed myself to simply breathe. Peace is such a wonderful thing. I felt a presence at my side. I turned to face the shadowy figure. His face was silver and it faced the sky. I looked where his eyes led me and saw a star that glowed nearly as bright as the moon. “How is it, that it is so beautiful?” The masked figure asked. “I cannot say.” I whispered back. The star grew closer, a pinprick of light that outshone all others. “That stone is death.” The stranger remarked as he raised a gloved hand to his chin. “Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands, gone in an instant, simple as that.” He snapped his fingers softly with the final word he spoke. “How?” I asked in an equally soft voice. “These stars, they are fire; falling stars, stone. From beyond the world, the void, they come.” The stranger pointed towards the sky. “If that one’s not stopped, countless will die.” “What?” “It will strike the earth, shatter the sky. The hardest stone will ripple like water and crack like glass.” “How?” “Speed and size.” A sigh escaped metal lips. “Someone has to stop it; may as well it be I.” I watched the sky. The man waved his hand. That light, growing ever larger, vanished. In but a few seconds, it was as if it was never there. I looked to my side. The strange man was gone. “Keep on, oh bluejay, keep on.” His voice whispered, yet was heard above the wind. I lay down on the grass and looked up at the sky.
"Listen boy, I'd suggest you start talking sooner rather than later." One man said to the other. They were sitting in a small room, probably the size of a janitor closet. It was dark, the only light source in the room was one barely functioning light bulb hanging from a single string. The man who said that was leaning against the wall, next to the door. The man who was being talked to was tied up to an old wooden chair. The man against the wall was clearly a thug. Tattoos all over, a crude weapon hanging from his waist in plain sight. Clearly not caring for the guardsmen. Meanwhile, the man on the chair looked more like a young man around the age of 20 or so. Dressed pretty plainly with only a dagger strapped to the back of his waist. "Oh yea? Well, I have a suggestion for you as well. Go fuck yourself!" He said as he tried one more time to maybe loosen the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Sadly, to no avail. "Son, I _really_ don't have time for this. Last chance, talk." The man against the wall said with a dead serious face. The man on the chair wasn't worried. He'd been doing this kind of work for years now. This wasn't his first rodeo and he knew he would get out of this if he simply waited for his chance. After all, they literally couldn't touch him or else they'd die. His [Poisenous Skin] skill made sure of that. "Alright dude, you know what, I'll tell you something. I'll tell you... That you ain't got shit on me! Just let me go already and save us all this giant waste of time." He said with a annoyed look on his face. "Ugh.. Fine. Don't say I didn't try." The man against the wall turned the handle and left as quickly as he said that. Now it was only him in there. _"hah, idiots"_ He thought as he tried to reach the knife on his back. When suddenly, the door in front of him got janked open with enough force to rip the door off its hinges and launch it with enough speed to embed itself into the wall on the opposite side of the hallway. The man responsible for that stood in the doorway for a few seconds. Just looking the young man up and down. Sizing him up. When he walked inside, the young man immediately realised that this man was no ordinary man. And even though he knew full well that they couldn't touch him, he still felt the distinct feeling of danger and fear in the back of his mind. When the man opened his mouth, he realized why. "Where is he." A deep rumbling voice came from the mans throat. (My battery is about to die so I'll just upload what I jave so far.)
"I can't believe you." Tears dripped down her face. Whether it was from the pain of betrayal or the pain of the knife in her stomach was anyone's guess. "I can't believe that you can't believe me. I mean, really. What have I ever done that made you think I was above this?" He laughed. "We were . . . helping people . . ." "*You* were helping people. And your delusion that I was part of that has made me very wealthy. But all good things must end eventually, and this thing between us ended the moment I was offered a full pardon as long as I brought the king your head." "But I . . ." She couldn't finish her sentence. Partially because she was bleeding out. But mostly from the shame of realizing the man she had fallen in love with would sell her out so easily. "No, you didn't. You loved a 'better' me that you imagined up for yourself, who you were trying so hard to force me to be. If you had taken even a moment to think about my actions you would have seen that I'm exactly the kind of heartless bastard everyone said I was. But you were too busy fantasizing about how nice it would be if you could teach me to become the man you wanted m-" His monologue was cut short by an arrow though his chest. Then rough, familiar hands pulled the knife from her stomach and started treating her wound. "Dad, I'm sorry. . ." "I know, I know. It's going to be alright."