The Odd Writings

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The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Thu May 01, 2014 9:08 am

Well, this has been widely demanded, and I finally got tired of being told to do it, so here goes. This is a new thread that will contain my writings, from short stories to novels, and anything in between. If I write something and feel like sharing it, I'll put it right up here. Feel free to comment, critique, love, hate, or just lurk. Whatever you do, do it.


I guess I'll start it off with this piece. This is a Flash Fiction (short story) I wrote this year for Fine Arts Festival. There was a word count limit of 1,200, so I had to trim it down and cut parts out to make it fit. The final word count is 1,197. :sweat:



Jehanne



Lord almighty, watch over this child of yours as her final moments come across the horizon.

The sound of heavy boots came into her hearing, coming closer.

Let your will be done. I have served as faithfully as I could; now I put myself into your hands.

The footsteps stopped right outside. A brief exchange could be heard, followed by rattling keys and a hinge squealing.

I, your servant and soldier, will follow the path you have chosen for me until the end.

"Get up, it's time."

As the gruff voice ordered her in the language she found so crude, the Maiden turned, opened her eyes, and looked up. Her cell guard stood there, wrist irons in one hand while his other rested on his sword's hilt. "I said, get up." He repeated.

The Maiden stood, her legs sore from hours of kneeling. She looked adamantly at the jailor, and could tell he was unnerved by the force of her gaze. "Very well." She said, walking to the cell door and holding out her hands to be clasped in irons. Next to her jailor stood two men, armed with swords and wearing English armor, both staring hatefully at the Maiden. With the jailor leading and the soldiers behind her, they walked through the corridor of the dungeon and up into the light of day.

The Maiden winced as they came outside. She had not been out of her cell for six days, and the sunlight was painfully bright. Her jailor also paused briefly, then turned and handed the rope tied to her irons to one of the soldiers. "She's your problem now." He said, before walking back into the dungeon.

The soldiers watched the Maiden for any changes in her behavior, but she simply returned their looks coolly. After a moment, the soldier holding the rope took the lead and they continued on. They walked through the wide, crowded streets of Rouen. Although it had been half a year since she arrived here, the Maiden found she knew nothing about her surroundings, having been held prisoner the entire time. As they walked through the street, every head turned to watch them, and the people began whispering among themselves. Even without turning to see, the Maiden could tell that a crowd had begun to form and follow them.

After a long walk through the city, gathering more and more spectators as they went, they finally arrived at what seemed to be a town square, where there was already another crowd waiting for them. There were many English soldiers here as well, more than would normally be present at such an event. In the center of the crowd was a large wooden stake rising from the ground, with logs like a pyre built up around it. The soldiers guided the Maiden towards the pyre, bringing her up onto it with her back to the stake, then they tied her wrists and waist to it and stepped away. The Maiden looked into the sea of faces before her. Not one of them was familiar; she was alone in a city of her enemy.

A man dressed in official-looking clothes waded through the crowd and came to stand in front of the pyre. He unrolled a scroll and began reading from it. "Today all those assembled here are to bear witness to the execution of one Jehanne Romee De Lys, also known as the Maid of Orleans. She has been found guilty and convicted of heresy against God and the church by Cardinal Henry Beaufort, and, as befits her crimes, she is sentenced to death, by burning at the stake."

The Maiden looked at the man as he spoke, then turned her sharp gaze out to the crowd, like she was challenging everyone there to meet her eyes. Convicted of heresy for wearing men's clothes and having my hair cut short in battle, how absurd. Was I expected to wear a dress and leave my hair long? The Maiden scoffed at the thought. Her whole trial had clearly been biased by the English wanting her dead. No matter what she did she couldn't have escaped this fate.

The man reading from the scroll continued, "Her sentence is to be carried out this day, by the hand of Geoffrey Therage, executioner of Rouen." Here he turned to face the Maiden, "Jehanne Romee De Lys, being found guilty of the aforementioned crimes, you shall now be executed. Have you anything to say before your death?"

A hush came over the square as every face looked up at the Maiden, waiting expectantly to hear her. Would she remain silent? Would she cry and beg for her life? Would she curse her judge and executioner?

"I am indeed guilty of the crime of heresy," The Maiden spoke in the crude language of the English, projecting her voice as powerfully as she could manage, "if one would define heresy as serving the almighty God and acting on His commands, then I am the guiltiest of heretics, and surely do deserve this punishment."

No one spoke. No one moved. It seemed as if no one even dared to breathe. For several long moments a silence fell over the square as the Maiden's response hit like a hammer on all who heard. Finally, the man finished reading from the scroll, "T-then, we say our farewells to you, Jehanne Romee De Lys, and ask that God be merciful on your soul." Having finished, the man rolled up his scroll and ducked away swiftly.
The executioner stepped forward and held a burning torch to the pyre. The logs caught fire and began to burn upward, toward the stake the Maiden was tied to. She soon felt the heat of the flames on her feet, but refused to give the spectators the satisfaction of even shifting them in discomfort.

As the flames reached up to her boots, and the leather began to burn, she spotted two men near the pyre dressed as members of the clergy and shouted to them, "You there!" They were surprised by her outburst, but listened attentively. Remind me why I'm doing this. "Show me a crucifix, if you have one. Let me look upon my Savior in my final moments." They seemed taken aback, but one pulled a necklace from beneath his robes and held it out for her to see, a small necklace made in the likeness of a cross with a man wearing a crown of thorns nailed to it. Ignoring the pain spreading up her body, the Maiden forced a smile onto her face. I shall depart this world sooner than I had expected... But perhaps it is not all bad.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man dressed in violet whom she recognized as Cardinal Henry Beaufort. The man who had overseen her trial and sentenced her to this death now covered his face and turned away, pushing his way out of the crowd.

She turned her eyes skyward, as if waiting to see heaven above her. Now... It is time for me to retire from this world, and go to my new home, and see my Father there.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby snowcatgrlX7 » Thu May 01, 2014 12:46 pm

Wow. This was short and to the point^^
When she mentioned that she had fought in a battle, I was reminded of Joan of Arc...
Good job :jump:
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalms 23:4
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Thu May 01, 2014 3:04 pm

Reminds me of Joan of Arc. I found it very moving. Thanks Odd. Good job.
I....have nothing to say.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri May 02, 2014 6:35 pm

Just a side note on that previous story, the character was the actual Joan of Arc. Jehanne was her historical name, so I used that.

Now, on to another piece! This is a little older, my Short Story from last year's Fine Arts. This one came even closer on the word count at 1,199 words. Phew...

(Also, the theme to adhere to that year was "Finished", so yeah.)



Finish the Fight



This is it. The end of everything. The culmination of the past two years. Today will change history; our names forever remembered as great heroes who changed the world, or tyrants who were crushed justly. That's how the world works: The victors are remembered as heroes, while the defeated are evil.
These are my thoughts as I stand atop a hill overlooking what will soon become a battlefield. The capital city, Arilin, stands before me, though it is more of a fortress with its impenetrable black walls.

Alongside my friends, I had fought so long and hard to get here, trying to reach the heart of the darkness that has overtaken the world. Now that I am here, I find myself alone, my friends having fallen long ago, leaving me to carry their dreams.

My thoughts refocus as the two massive gates in the invincible walls open outward, and from them pours the first line of enemy defenses: countless footsoldiers wearing identical suits of black armor, carrying double-edged swords with them. Swords had resurfaced in warfare decades ago after armor became so advanced it rendered bullets useless.

As I watch these soldiers march through the gates, one after another, there is one thing I know:

I am going to die.

I will not survive this. I have known since the beginning that I would not outlive this war. I cannot escape with my life.

I look through the gates to Arilin. Inside is the Pax Circumornatis. The Circum is a mass mind-control device. A system of transmitters that send signals to satellites orbiting the planet, which are then bounced back to the humans on earth, dominating their minds.

The few of us who retained our freedom joined together, fighting against this abomination, trying to restore humanity's self. Now, I am the only survivor left to carry on the fight against this cruel reality.

I watch the last soldiers march through the city entrance, and the gates close behind them. As one, they draw their swords.

Knowing the moment has come; I reach back and grab the handle of my weapon. I also use a high-tech sword, but more powerful. It weighs over twenty kilograms, yet feels weightless thanks to the power suit I'm wearing, which enhances my physical ability beyond what a human can do. The electromagnet on my back releases, letting the sword fall into my hand.

As I ready my sword, preparing for what's about to happen, I pray to almighty God, asking for the strength to complete His task.
Then, with a sonic boom, I charge toward the soldiers that outnumber me infinitely.

I approach the enemy, sword raised, battle-ready. Then, just before making contact, I leap, soaring over hundreds of soldiers before landing like a meteor. Immediately, swinging my sword around me, I deflect dozens of blows from enemy soldiers. Then, as they stagger, I strike back.

It is cruel to kill these people whose minds are being manipulated to fight, but I learned long ago there was no choice. To survive, I must kill. So I fight, losing some of my humanity with each strike.

The worst part is the silence. The only sounds are the stomping of heavy boots and clashing of metal on metal as our swords meet. There are no battle cries, nor shouts of pain from the fallen. The doll-soldiers don't have the thought for it, and I remain silent in grim determination.

Through the battle, I begin forcing my way to the city gates; the only way in.
Finally reaching the gates, I stand with my back to them and swing my sword wildly at the surrounding soldiers, driving them back. They have no fear, but move back to prepare for my counterattack.

There is none. Once I'm out of their range, I turn and strike the gate with my sword, cutting through it. I attack again, with an upward stroke, and then downward, then with a kick, the weakened spot in the gate collapses, and I run through.

Just like outside the walls, inside Arilin is lifeless. No one is visible; everyone is in factories or workshops, working for the few who control the Circum.

I run, following the main street, and am soon before the capital building; a towering skyscraper as wide as a town and miles high. The Circum is at the top. I break through the front doors, then run to the far wall and use my sword to pry open a pair of elevator doors.

Looking down, I enter. Normally, an energy platform would form to lift me, but the building is on lockdown to prevent me from getting higher. Putting one foot on the wall, held by magnets in my suit, I push off the ground and run with such speed that I'm at the top of the shaft, miles up, in seconds.

I stop at the final door, and unhesitatingly leap, crashing through, rolling across the floor beyond. The instant I stop, I raise my sword to deflect attacks from dozens more doll-soldiers that were waiting for me. Clearing a path in front of me, I run.

The living space is so lavishly furnished that one room could buy the entire city below, so the single unadorned door stands out clearly, and beside it I see a plaque that reads "Pax Circumornatis". Battering the door down, I follow the stairwell leading up past it.

I emerge into a massive room, the crown of the capital. An entire town could fit in here.

Before me, massive as the room itself, is the Pax Circumornatis. It appears as a mile wide loop of electricity held by countless energy conductors.

I notice then, to either side of me, the Circum's last line of defense: The few dozen people who created the Circum, all wearing power suits superior to my own, brandishing weapons and shouting at me to stop, trying to dissuade me from my goal.

I don't care, they're nothing, just monsters who have dominated mankind. The ones responsible for the deaths of my friends and all the losses we suffered.
Well, no more.

I wordlessly charge at the Circum, ignoring the slavers that try to stop me. I'm hit several times, taking serious wounds and losing my sword. I ignore it all. I run, slamming into the wall of energy that powers the Circum. The energy is so strong it freezes me in place, and as electricity courses through me, I struggle through the pain to absorb the energy into my power suit.

This continues until finally, my suit absorbs the last of the energy in the Circum, leaving it powerless. I breathe a sigh of relief even as red warnings flash before my eyes, telling me the power stores in my suit have reached absolute critical.

The Circum has been deactivated. The minds and freedom of the people shall return. I have fulfilled the dreams of my friends. I am at peace even as my power suit, having absorbed far too much energy, explodes with the force of a massive bomb, letting out a blast that levels the entire capital building and shakes Arilin.

Humanity is free. It is over. It is finished.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby snowcatgrlX7 » Sat May 03, 2014 1:35 pm

Wow. Just wow. This is really just awesome. Especially the fight scenes and the ending. I was able to visualize the action in my head as I was reading the story. Good job
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalms 23:4
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Wed May 07, 2014 8:32 pm

(Edited to add spoiler tags to the summary at the end. This way, if someone wants to wait donkey's years for me to actually write this thing, which may or may not happen, they don't have to have the ending ruined for them. If you don't care about that, highlight and read away.)

Thanks for the feedback, guys! This is the last piece I have ready to post, I think. I hope you'll all like it! This is my Book Chapter from this year's Fine Arts. Basically, this is the first chapter of a book I've thought up (and may or may not continue work on) and at the end is a summary of the rest of the book (in 150 words or less!). Also, the word count limit on this one was 1,800 words. The final word count is 1,800 words. And considering the time between the first word being written and printing copies for FA took place in about 24 hours, I feel pretty pleased with it. OK, that's all, sorry for the absurdly long opening remarks, enjoy the show.


Search for Completion


Twenty-seven...

Click.

Twenty-eight...

Click.

Twenty-nine...

Click.

And thirty.

Click. Ka-chack!

I mentally sounded with every new bullet I loaded into the magazine, finally filling it to its capacity and snapping it into my rifle. I placed the other two magazines into my pack before standing up, ignoring my sore legs as they cried out in protest. I had been sitting for a while now, and my muscles were just getting used to being relaxed, but I didn't have time for relaxing. I was too exposed out here, I had to keep moving.

I slung my pack over my shoulder, took a firm grip on my rifle and started to run forward. I could see a town in the distance, or what passed for one, and I wanted to get there before sunset. I didn't expect a warm welcome, or any kind of welcome for that matter, but the abandoned buildings would be a decent shelter from the ever-blowing sand.

Every dozen steps, I paused for a few seconds to listen. Listening to the wind, the distance, everything, but I heard nothing, just dead silence. There didn't seem to be anything in the immediate area that posed a threat to me. That’s a nice change of pace. Ever since I took this blasted job, it's like death has had it in for me, every day there was a new scrape I'd barely make it out of. And the job was just starting.

The 'town' was really more a pile of rubble, some of which happened to still be sticking together in formations similar to a building. Most of it was covered in sand, but a few structures of brick and rebar stuck up from it. I decided to hunker down in one, and climbed through what once would have been called a window.

The interior was barren, with all the furniture buried under the sand, and the ceiling just a couple feet from my head. I belatedly came to the realization that the room was upside down, and that it wasn't the ceiling; but the floor. This building must have collapsed in such a way it turned on its head and gotten buried that way. Hadn't seen that before.

I decided I would spend the night here, and brushed away some of the sand in one corner, making a small pit I could sleep in when night fell. Once that was done, I dug through my pack and took out my water canteen and a can of food. Since the label was long gone, I had no clue as to what I was about to eat. Along with my dinner, I also pulled out a small leather bag, real leather, the kind that was extremely rare and valuable nowadays. I opened the bag and took out its contents: a hardcover, blue book, on the front of which had faded gold letters saying "Tely Bie." There were plenty of blank spaces, though, so there must have been more to the title, but that wasn't important. I was tasked with filling the book, not calling it by its name. A certain reputable, wealthy client had hired me to find enough pages of this book to fill it, cover to cover, and have as much of the story as possible. He said it shouldn't be too hard, since it was the most popular book there was, back in the day. But I don't think he appreciated just how hard it was to find anything out in the wild. In a blink you could lose your landmarks, your traveling companions, your destination, or even your life.

Still, difficult and dangerous as it was, it was my job. My client hired me for one reason, and one reason only: I was Derril Harser, and that meant I was the best. I was the person who was best suited to jobs in the wild, because I knew how to survive, at all costs. I was the person who could search the wild and fill this book. I had been born and raised in the wild; this place was like my childhood playground I never outgrew.

I used my knife to pry the can of food open, finding it was full of sliced apricots. Not my favorite, admittedly, but that was part of 'at all costs'. I just had to make sure this wasn't my last meal; you should enjoy that one, at least. I ate the apricots and drank the juice, then tossed away the can, took a sip of water to get the strong taste out of my mouth, and replaced my canteen and the book into my pack before I lay down in the corner for some sleep. The wind was picking up, a sign of an oncoming sandstorm. Good thing I had found shelter; out in the open a sandstorm cut like a blade.


In the morning I was, unsurprisingly, covered in sand that had blown in through the window. I sat up and brushed it off of me, then listened to the wind. It was still blowing harshly, but not on the level of a full-on sandstorm. Good, time to move.

I took a moment to tie a thick cloth veil around my head to protect my face from the cutting sand, before climbing out the window and into the blasting wind. I took my knife and used the tip of it to scratch a mark into the brick. A 'survival mark', a system people used to mark what shelters were suitable and what ones weren't. This sign meant "sand blowing in, little coming out, but useable shelter". Some people didn't leave survival marks because they were paranoid others could use the marks to follow them, but I wasn't so afraid of the world.

I set out from the town and kept walking in the same general direction as yesterday, which was really the same direction I had been going since I left the city where I picked up the job. That’s just how it works on jobs like these: you pick a direction, start walking, and hope to find what you are looking for.

After walking for a couple of hours, another sprawling landmark came into view, too far away to properly make out, but I had a hunch. I reached into my pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars, turning the knob to bring them into focus. My hunch was correct, I was looking at a city, the high, vented walls and the turrets mounted atop them were unmistakable. I could stop in for a hot meal, and maybe find some guidance for this book

The wind began picking up again before long, and by the time I was a half mile outside the city it was threatening to escalate back into a sandstorm at any moment. But, through the wind, I heard another sound, a more stable, deep, rising sound. I froze, listening, moving only my hand to the action of my rifle. My breath was deep and slow, quiet as could be.

I slowly started tugging the action back. That couldn't be...

A crack in the distance, and another one seconds later, much closer. No, that's just not fair.

The cracking paused; the deep sound was getting closer. You've got to be kidding me.

No kidding out here. The sound was right on top of me and the cracking resumed, half a dozen gunshots a second.

Action back, round loaded, safety off.

I spun to the side, barely having time to raise my rifle to my shoulder before the behemoth shot out above the sand dunes. A monstrous auto-machine, with wheels as big as a man, barbed wire strung around it, and two guys with guns sitting on top.

I wasted no time. While it was speeding down the dune, coming straight for me, I let off two bursts of bullets and then dove out of the way. They returned fire as the machine moved past, bullets whizzed by me and hit the sand, inches from my body.

Oh no, no way. I wasn't fighting an auto-machine with armed men. I jumped up and started running for the city, if I could make it close enough, maybe the machine would call off its pursuit in fear of the heavy machine guns the wall boasted. Bullets hit all around me as I ran, but the idiots shooting at me didn't stop their machine. Their aim was terrible, meaning I was safe. Or, as safe as someone being chased and shot at by a five ton mechanical nightmare could be.

I could hear the auto-machine getting too close, so, with as little warning as possible, I did a 180, dropped to one knee, and fired three three-round bursts at the gunners on top. One of them shouted and dropped his gun, a non-fatal hit. The machine swerved away, and I got back to running for safety. The wall was close now.

Finally, just a hundred yards out, I started waving my hands in the air frantically, trying to signal them to open the gates and let me in. Instead, two of the huge turrets turned toward me, ready to fire. I slowed down to a walk, then stopped. They weren't going to let me in while that machine was after me. They probably thought I was working with them trying to get it inside. I cursed, turning around and raising my rifle to my shoulder, flicking it to full auto mode. If I had to get rid of these raiders before I could get inside, then that's just what I would do.

The machine was coming straight for me, now. They probably intended to just ram me and wipe me off the hood later. Not happening. I had half my magazine left, fifteen bullets. That would be plenty. I took aim at the transparent sandshield on the front of the machine and opened fire on it, counting each bullet as it left the barrel of my gun. The sandshield cracked, and the machine swerved wildly for a few seconds as my barrage reached the driver. The machine careened past me, and I turned to watch it just in time to see it straighten out and drive past again, fleeing back the way it had come.

I waited several seconds until I could no longer hear the machine, and then looked up at the top of the walls. By my count, I had one bullet left. I held my rifle up and fired straight into the air, the solitary crack of the gunfire sounded out above the rising wind. I spread my arms wide and cocked my head, and in a couple seconds the gates began to creak open.

Now that's more like it. I thought, walking to the open gates.


-Summary-



SPOILER: Highlight text to read: On his journey to piece together the "Tely Bie," Derril goes to far away cites and through incredible danger he survives through what can only be called "miracles." Derril soon finds that the book is a record of a forgotten history, and the full title is "The Holy Bible." Initially, Derril doesn't care for the idea of a God or His teachings, but the things he goes through and people he meets gradually cause him to reconsider his outlook.

Finally, after seeing things he thought impossible, Derril decides to accept the Bible as truth, seeing no other explanation other than God is watching over him, and finishes collecting the entire story. Derril, now a changed man, returns to his employer and turns in the finished Bible. His client is pleased, and goes to work making copies to be mass-printed and distributed as far as they can be.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby ClaecElric4God » Wed May 07, 2014 9:12 pm

Hm. Well. What can I say?
First off, you know the only flaw I'm going to point out, so I'm not going to say it. Keep up the good work, and maybe someday you will achieve it.

Now, on to the not-flaws.
This is really, really well written. If you try to tell me the intro isn't good, I will personally...whack you or something. Also, I personally know how it feels to try to cram something that's actually half-decent into such a small time frame, and you should be pleased with it. It doesn't seem rushed or half-baked at all. It reads like you put a lot of effort into it. Which, in spite of the 24-hour thing, I'm sure you did.
I could throw out grammar stuff, but it basically sums up into the one thing I've already told you, so I'll leave that alone.
The actual story. In a nutshell: It's awesome. Seriously. Of all the stories I've read, yours have an uncanny way of always being unique and captivating, and actually meaningful. There's a lot of weight and depth to your stories, and this one is no exception. You don't write cheesy, dumb, immature stuff (*cough*sourcream*cough*), and it makes your stuff very enjoyable and exciting to read. I'm not gonna try to bug you into continuing this but...yeah, I probably am. I am more than curious to see where this goes.
Anyways, I've given more than my two cents. Tl;dr: It's really good, good job, pat yourself on the back, keep up the good work.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Thu May 29, 2014 3:55 pm

Oddity...Oddity... When are you going to put more stuff in here? We're waiting.... :grin:
I....have nothing to say.
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Ima go fangirl some more...
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby ClaecElric4God » Mon Jul 07, 2014 12:09 pm

Odd. Get busy. Stop being a bum. WRITE. POST. SHAAAAAAAAAAAAARE.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Sat Sep 06, 2014 6:59 pm

Wow, well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Really sorry, I didn't mean to abandon my poor thread, it just happened. But now, I return! And hopefully with a series I can keep ongoing for some time. I want to warn you, though, that I don't have my super-editor parents helping me out with this one, and truth be told, I'm not even putting that much effort into editing it myself. I just want to write this story, get it out there, and worry about how nice it looks later. Before I do, though, I simply MUST bring up this post I saw while scrolling through the thread:

ClaecElric4God wrote:Hm. Well. What can I say? [...] Of all the stories I've read, yours have an uncanny way of always being unique and captivating, and actually meaningful. There's a lot of weight and depth to your stories, [...] You don't write cheesy, dumb, immature stuff


Hehehe, we'll just see. And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you...


Misadventures of the Unusuals


Chapter the first: A Puppet, a Letter, and a... Friend?

Saw, saw, saw the limbs down.
Scrape, scrape, scrape the bark off.
Sand, sand, sand the rough wood.

Carve, care, carve the details.
Fill, fill, fill it with mana.
Dress, dress, dress it prettily.


I hum this tune softly while singing along in my head. Magical woodworking requires a patience and calmness, and simple, childish songs like that help to achieve it. I'm sitting in a small pile of wood shavings and sawdust by the time I'm done with my work, and stand up to brush it off of me as I examine the result.
The target object of my work is a large wooden doll, a marionette. I say large, but it's really only the size of a child, but that's still bigger than any standard performing marionette. But this is not a performing marionette.
I pick it up and run my hand along it, making sure the wood is all smoothed out, no bumps, no notches. It isn't quite perfect, but it's adequate. The joints all move well, even the small fingers and toes, and it even has a small opening mouth, but nothing to say.
The marionette has a full head of dark red hair that covers it's eyes -which is good, because I haven't added them yet- and wears a simple dress of white silk. It was about time it started looking a bit more... human.

I set the marionette down and pick up my control bars, sitting beside me. I look down at them, held in my hands. Once, these were just basic, standard control bars, two small wood planks nailed together, like any puppeteer carried, but I've modified them to fit me perfectly. The cross point in the bars where I grip the have been trimmed down to fit my hand, and one end has been carved to be held like a hilt, while the opposite end has been weighted and tipped in iron.
A sad expression creeps across my face as I think back to the time before I turned to these. Back in those days, I would fight an opponent face-to-face with a sword or a battleaxe, fearlessly. But those days are over, and now when I fight, I rely on the strength of my marionette, and my skill to use it.
I shake the memories away and turn back to the task at hand. I look down at my marionette, lying on it's back on the ground. I hold my control bars out over it, using them as a conduit and reaching out with my magical power, my mana. My mana forms strings and flows quickly, finding purchase in all the joints of the marionette, and slowly, the marionette rises up to it's feet.
I make the marionette wave, move all it's joints around, and walk back and forth in front of me. I smile and release the magical hold, and the marionette, as any puppet whose strings are cut, falls limply and comes to rest upright, sitting on it's knees.
"Yes... you'll do quite nicely." I say as if the marionette can hear me. Satisfied with my work, I quickly pack up all my tools and make a quick wave at the marionette, and it disappears in a puff of smoke, ready for the next time I summon it.
Making sure nothing is left behind, I turn and start walking through the field of grass and back to town.

Zid Caina is a small, cozy town. Built on rolling hills of vast grassland, it has huge farming fields on the road leading up to it. I pass by several field workers harvesting wheat and barley on, who wave happily to me. I smile and wave back, this is a friendly place, with friendly people.
At the edge of the crop fields is a large, rarely-turning mill, and just next to that is the small inn that I'm staying at. Just beside the door there's a red mailbox that I stop to check. Mailboxes are truly amazing innovations, not only by all the countless mailboxes being linked by their own sub-dimension for mail, but also in that they can can identify whoever touches a mailbox and display only that person's mail to them.
I see a single envelope in the mailbox and take it, checking the sender name. A smile comes over my face; it's a letter from my good friend, Click, an adventurer of great skill but only mild renown.
I walk into the inn, letter in hand, and go immediately up to my rented room. I close and lock the door, open the window curtains, and sit down at the desk to read Click's letter. I break the wax seal and unfold the papers eagerly.

"My good friend, Bod Oan:

I hope the days between letters have treated you well. When last you wrote, you spoke of sorrow and hardship befalling you, and I hope your strife has eased, even just a little, since then.
Adventuring is a hard path to take, I should know. Finding trustworthy allies is easy, finding friends is not so simple, and holding onto them even harder. It's certainly a tragedy that you would so quickly become lost to your good friends.
But don't give up hope! Prism is a vast world, indeed, and there are more allies, and more friends, to be met. But nobody likes someone who mopes around and thinks only on the days of the past, yes? Remember the past, Bod, but don't live in it, for time is only linear, and fighting against it is a fools errand.

Believe it or not, I'm more familiar with your situation than you may assume. I may travel alone now, but it was not always the case, and I as well have felt the heartache of losing comrades. It's been some time since your last letter reached me, and I assume you've been on your own since then. However, I know just the remedy for that.
Now, believe me when I say I would personally go and join you by your side if I was able to, however, the tax on travel between realms is so heavy that it's practically impossible. I could gather all my fortunes, sell all my possessions, and still not afford to cross to Arliksa. To my deep regret, I can not fill the void left by your old companions.
However, there is another solution. One, perhaps, of equal or even greater merit. I have a cousin in Arliksa, you see, and she is also an adventurer new to her career. She's young, but very skilled, if the claims she makes are true. She has been a solo adventurer her whole career, but I think joining a party would do her good. Her name-"


At this point, the letters all become smudged and unreadable, all the way to the end of the page. I pull the next page forward and continue reading.

"As you see, I think the two of you will be able to become splendid friends, and help each other greatly. Oh, and don't worry about a meeting point, I've already arranged everything with her. The two of you will be meeting in the settlement Kaies, in Fyelma. You are still on Fyelma continent, right? Anyways, she'll be waiting for you on the ninth day after the Harvest Moon, make sure you aren't late! I've described you to her as 'a short elf with bright hair and an absurd looking robe.' You still wear that robe you told me about, right? The one with the bears? Good.

Well, I hardly think I have any stories worth sharing recently, work has been slow here. But I do look forward to hearing how well you get on with my dear cousin. Until next time,

Yours truly, Click.

P.S. Don't mind the smudge up there, I spilled a glass of water. I was just telling you about her, but I'm sure you'll learn it all soon enough when you meet her. Have fun!



I set the papers down on the desk and sigh. Click is a good friend of mine; we've been writing to each other for years now. But leave it to him to arrange something like this with no warning or consultation first. Ninth day after Harvest Moon... That's tomorrow, by my reckoning.
I sigh again. I'm not even on Fyelma continent, at the moment, but it's a simple matter to warp across the ocean. Then there's the matter of the meeting place, Kaies. I don't think I've ever even heard the name of the place. His description of me is also an issue. My snow-white hair certainly is bright and eye-catching, but I'm certainly not that short, and I got rid of that robe he mentioned years ago.
Before I even realized it, I was letting out a third sigh. This was not going to be fun, I could tell.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sat Sep 06, 2014 11:58 pm

*dies laughing* *recovers from laughing and lapses into a horrific coughing fit*

O-odd...is this...what I think it is? Could it really be? This is awesome. This may well be the most fantastic thing since the crumpled piece of paper.

I impatiently await the next installment. BRING IT ON.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Sun Sep 07, 2014 1:11 pm

If this is what I think it is.....
Can't wait Odd!
I....have nothing to say.
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Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Sat Nov 29, 2014 1:46 pm

Hmm... It's been a while. Some of you probably know by now, but I've been having some computer problems, which is the primary reason this has been inactive for so long. But, I've been loaned a computer to use, so I can get back to it, yay! I wrote a bit of this before my computer went down and was hoping to get it back, but at this point I decided just to re-write it and leave it at that. And I meant to get this up yesterday, but ran into website issues. For further chapters, check back on Fridays, I'll try and have a new chapter up every week. Exciting, isn't it? Anyways, that's enough introductory waffling from me (really need to get my ramblings under control) so, here's the next chapter of...


Misadventures of the Unusuals



Chapter the Second: The Directionally Challenged Elf, the Robe, and the Long, Long Day.


The next day, I get up and around early. I pack my few belongings from the inn room and then go outside into the fields of Zid Caina. I didn't have breakfast at the inn; that could wait until got to Kaies, donn't want to be late, now.
I pull a map of the world out of my backpack and unroll it, holding it up so I could clearly see it. There are three main landmasses on Prism: Aelid continent, Fyelma continent, and the giant island of Bikest. I am currently on Aelid, homeland of the humans. I've been here for months now, doing work wherever it resents itself, but the meeting with Click's cousin is in Fyelma, so I guess I'll have to move there.
I set the map down on the ground, spreading it out neatly, and kneel down next to it. I put my finger on the picture of Fyelma continent and close my eyes, imagining my destination. Bright, hot, sandy desert area, white buildings towering around me, tall, proud elves leisurely going about their business. When I have a clear enough mental image of my target location, I draw out my mana and utter a single word.
“Warp.”
Instantly the gentle breeze and cool air of Zid Caina transforms into harsh wind and blistering heat. The air turns dry and I can feel bits of sand blowing into my face already. I open my eyes and see just what I was picturing: Edea, the elven capital on Fyelma. Situated with a mountain range on one side and a near-endless desert on the other, Edea isn't what would be considered the ideal place to live according to most, but for the elves of Prism, it's home.
Fyelma isn't the native homeland of the elves, but nobody knows where that is anymore. Elven settlers came here thousands, maybe tens, or even hundreds of thousands of years ago. They made a new home here, and claimed the land for themselves. Unfortunately, the giants living in the far northern reaches of the continent didn't take too kindly to that. The two peoples fought for a long, long time, details of the war are lost to history, but there's still some bad blood between elves and giants today.
I get up off my knee and roll up the map, placing it back in my bag, and take a look around. It's been ages since I was last here, but nothing's changed. It brings back memories of when I was just starting out adventuring in Prism, when I began learning puppetry. But, that's a tale for another time.
“Right, first things first.” I say to myself, pulling out Click's letter and scanning over it. “I need to figure out where Kaies is. And, I suppose I should find an absurd looking robe, too.” I threw out the robe Click mentioned ages ago, but, his cousin was told to look for an absurd robe, so I'd definitely need one now.
I recall there's a clothes store not far from the warp arrival point, so I head that way, pulling a turban out of my bag and tying it around my head to protect it from the desert wind and heat. The owner of the store is a timid-looking elf boy, and he encourages me to browse around to find whatever I need, and helpfully directs me to the selection of robes. Most of the robes I see on display are perfectly average, at least, and fairly exquisite -and expensive- at best. Discarding the ranging racks, I start to dig through a bin marked 'clearance,' if it's on clearance, it must mean it's so bad nobody wants it, right?
During my search, I find a pick and purple robe adorned with butterflies and ladybugs, and it's so absurd-looking I'm on my way to the store owner to buy it, when I see... it.
As soon as I see it, I know I'll never forget it. The sight will haunt my dreams until I die, and never leave me in peace. Dropping the insect robe on the ground, I pick it up and hold it out. For all intents and purposes, it's a normal robe, made from soft, light fabric to wear in the harsh desert heat and sand. But the sight of it is unlike anything I've ever seen before. I can't properly describe it with words, the best I can do is to say it looked as if a cloudless midday sky had vomited out all of its color and it had stained a white robe, forever cursing it with an abysmal, horrible color.
This, I decide, is as ridiculous of a robe as I will ever find. I take it to the young store owner and ask how much the thing will run me. He cringes at the sight of the robe, and I now his soul is feeling the same pain as mine when I saw it. The boy gives me a sympathetic look, then takes a gold coin out of his bag, puts it in my hand, and sends me away with his condolences.
Sighing, I don the infernally colored robe and throw the hood up, so it can at least do some good by protecting my face from the sandy winds. I'm getting some dirty looks from passersby at this point, and a few people look ready to faint at the sight of me, so I decide it's a good idea to get gone. I get some quick directions to Kaies from a disgusted guard, and then it's time to go.
I hold my open hand out in front of me and take a deep breath. Mana flows through the Fyelma continent like water through a mill, and I gather a bit of it quickly. “Come, Zeltan!” I say, and in a bright flash of light my pet eagle appears, stretching his wings and neck. Zeltan is a riding eagle, and the oldest companion I have on Prism, he was given to me the day I arrived on Fyelma, and his help has been invaluable. Back on Aelid, the human kingdom has imposed strict airspace-controlling laws, making it highly illegal for freelance adventurers to use any kind of flight, but in wild Fyelma, there are no such rules.
I hop onto Zeltan's back, he doesn't wear a saddle or anything for me to sit on like a horse, it's just his bare, feathery back. Despite this, I have no trouble getting a good grip on the giant bird, and we're ready to take off right away. Dust flies as Zeltan flaps his large wings, and he runs a few steps before taking off into the air, leaving the dusty ground far behind.
It's always a liberating experience, flying, and I always manage to forget how amazing it is up here until I'm back in the air again. The wind whips and whistles, blowing my hood off and throwing my hair into a frenzy. I lean back and spread my arms out, enjoying the feeling of being free in the air.
After I savor the moment, I lean down and tell Zeltan our course, “Due southwest, boy. Look for a newly built settlement.” The bird shrieks in acknowledgment, and we're on our way to Kaines.
Or so I think.

“This is the third time I've seen that armadillo!” I yell over the howling of the wind. I point down at the ground where there's a large sand dune in the shape of an armadillo. We've been flying for three hours now, whereas the trip to Kaies shouldn't have taken half of that, and we haven't seen the town yet.
Zeltan shrieked, and seemed to be telling me to do a better jog of navigation than him, if I could. I sigh, rubbing my forehead, and feel the mana bond between us. I can only have Zeltan summoned for so long each day, and we're starting to get close to the limit now. “Take us down lower, let's survey the area some more.” I say, trying not to sound too hard on the poor bird.
It always baffles me how I can get so thoroughly lost on simple trips like this. I honestly think that there's so much magic energy running wild in Fyelma that the land itself reshapes around travelers to make their journeys more difficult. I don't know what makes travel on Aelid so difficult, but there must be a similar answer.
We fly for another hour before Zeltan finally shrieks again, having spotted something. He angles himself down at the ground, and I look where he's heading. There, hidden away in an oasis thick with trees, I can just barely see small buildings and a fence of pointed logs stood upright in the ground. “That must be Kaines!” I say, and Zeltan nods his large head.
We're well on our way to landing in Kaies when I suddenly feel a tugging deep in my being. It feels like a fishing pole trying to reel in my soul, and I can tel immediately what it means. “Land, land!” I shout, panicked, “Zeltan, la--” I don't get to finish giving my command before Zeltan disappears in a flash of light, leaving me hanging forty feet in the air.
It's a painful fall, but thanks to some trees and thick grass I manage to not take any real damage. I stand up and brush myself off, making my way into Kaies village. It's a small settlement, tucked away in the shelter of the trees with a watering hole in the middle of it. It looks like the watering hole is also a convenient meeting place, since so many people are just loitering about, so I decide to go there to wait for Click's cousin.
Interestingly, I notice that most of the people here are humans. Fyelma continent is home to elves and giants, but I haven't heard of any human settlements before. It sounds like Kaies has only been constructed in the time I was on Aelid, but I would have thought to hear something of this place.
I wait there for an hour as people pass by, not sparing a glance to the supposedly short elf with white hair and an absurd-looking robe. After the first hour I leave for a moment to fine some food from the nearest vendor, and return to the watering hole to eat.
Another hour passes by, and then another. No sign of Click's cousin. Bored, I pull a book out of by bag and start reading to pass time. It's a magic instructional book that teaches the basics of magic, but I already know it all so I grow tired of the book and put it away before long. More time passes by while I wait in vain, and soon the sun begins to set and darkness creeps over the village.
“She's late. She's so late.” I mutter, crossing my arms and kicking a rock in frustration, it flies into the water hole and sends ripples out to the far edges, and I'm so engrossed in watching it that Idon't notice someone coming up beside me.
“Excuse me, sir?” The person asks, and I look up with a start. A woman, from the voice, stands in front of me, dressed fully in black robes, face covered by a hood. She has one sword sheathed on her hip, and another on her back. She's been here all day, too, at the other end of the watering hole, but I didn't pay her any mind.
“Something you need?” I ask, trying to sound hospitable despite my significant frustration. Click's cousin may have decided not to show up to the meeting, but that doesn't mean this stranger deserves to get the brunt of my anger.
“Maybe.” The woman says, and I can tell she's the silent type from her blunt manner of speaking. She fiddles around in her pocket for a moment before pulling out a piece of paper. “Are you Bod Oam?”
I blink. Did I hear that right? Is this woman looking for me? Is She Click's cousin? “I am.” I say, nodding, “And you, are you the one Click sent?”
The woman nods and pulls off her hood, revealing her face. She's a young human girl, with large green eyes, and long black hair tied back in a ponytail, with only the sides and bangs hanging loose. “I'm Click's cousin.” She says, “My name's Hale.”
I sigh inwardly. She's Hale. The black-robed swordswoman that was here the whole time was the person I was waiting all day for. “Bod.” I reply, “Why didn't you come over sooner? We've been here all day wasting time.” I ask her.
Hale crosses her arms and looks down at me, “Didn't know it as you.” She answered, “You don't match Click's description.”
I frown, looking down at myself, then sigh. “That idiot...” I mutter, “I don't know why he said I was so short. I'm barely below average.” I say.
“Oh no, you are most definitely short.” The woman says bluntly. I raise an eyebrow at her and stand up, but I'm still a full head shorter than her. “He said you'd be wearing a ridiculous robe. He was wrong.”
I look down at the offensively absurd robe I'm wearing and spread my arms out, showing it off to the girl. “This. Look at this. Is this not ridiculous to you?” I ask her.
She shakes her head, smiling faintly, “No way. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.”
I'm impressed she can say that with a straight face, and I decide to play along. “All right, then, if you think it's so great you can have it.” I say, going to take the thing off, but, as expected , she rushes to stop me.
“No, stop!” She cries, “I don't want it, it looks too perfect on you!”
The sincerity in her voice makes me finally realize she'd dead serious about it, and that Click had actually sent me a madwoman to form a party with. You've got to be kidding me. I think. “Fashion sense aside, can you at least fight?” I ask.
Hale nods, lightly touching the hilts of her swords, “I can fend for myself. Been solo, until Click arranged this. You're an axeman?” She asks.
I shake my head, “No, haven't been for a long time. All I use an ax for these days is chopping wood. I'm a puppeteer now, didn't he tell you?” Now Hale shakes her head, and I sigh again. “Well, never mind. Click's an idiot, we can both agree. For now, it's getting late, and we should head to an inn for the night.” Hale agrees, and directs me to the Kaies inn.
On the way to the inn, Hale stops all of a sudden, and I halt, looking back at her. “Hale? What's up?” I ask, and follow her gaze to see a merchant selling odds and ends off a blanket beside the road. “See something you want?” I ask, and the girl nods, pointing at an old, beaten up lute.
“That.” She says, then looks at the merchant, “How much?”
The man looks at the lute, wheels obviously turning in his head as he think up the best way to make a profit off of the old piece of junk. “Just for you, missy, I'll hand it over for a thousand gold.”
A thousand gold? What does this guy take us for? That's obviously an outrageous sum for this piece of junk, maybe reasonable for a top of the line masterwork lute, but this thing? Forget it. I put a hand on Hale's shoulder to pull her away, but she shrugs it off.
“Done!” Hale exclaims, reaching down to grab her coinpurse.
“Huh?”
“Huh?”
The merchant and I both let out sounds of surprise, and I'm too stunned to stop the girl as she pulls a thousand gold out of her purse and tosses it to the merchant. Most coin bags are magical to hold a specific amount of gold, and give that exact amount whenever it is requested, so the would-be daunting task is taken care of instantly and she has the weathered lute in her hands in no time at all.
“I can't believe you spent that much gold on that piece of garbage.” I say as we walk to the inn.
Hale doesn't look up from admiring her new lute, “No, it's great.” She insists, and I sigh.
We make it to the inn just a minute later and both get rooms, deciding to meet in the morning to talk over breakfast. For now, it's been a long day, and I need sleep.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Dec 05, 2014 2:07 pm

Hehehe, I bet you all thought I was gonna forget, didn't you? Ha! No such luck! Time for another chapter of...


Misadventures of the Unusuals



Chapter the Third: The Socially Awkward Swordswoman and the Den of Giant Spiders.



The next morning, Hale and I meet in the inn's common room, basically a tavern, for breakfast. Hale has her hood up again, obscuring her face behind a veil of shadows, making me worried; has Click sent me a strong silent weirdo who stays in the shadows all the time to try and have an air of mystique? Because I've seen a lot of those, and they never turn out well.
After we eat, I try to start a conversation with the girl. “I can see that you're clearly a sword fighter, but what's your specialty in battle?” I ask.
She's silent for a moment, thinking, considering the question before finally answering, “Hitting.”
My face slams against the table and I put my hands over my head, groaning aloud. An idiot! Click gave me an idiot! An idiot madwoman with a false sense of mystery! I take several deep breaths, trying not to flip out on the spot. She is related to Click, and she at least seems to know her way around a blade, so maybe she'll be more useful to have around than I fear.
I straighten myself out and go back to questioning my new partner. “You really don't say much, do you Hale?” ask.
She takes a long sip of... whatever she got to drink, before setting her cup down and answering. “Guess not.”
I can see this track of conversation will also get nowhere, so I switch again. “Well, the best way to get accustomed to working together is live practice. What do you say we go find some work, maybe a dungeon to raid?” I suggest.
She nods, “Sounds like a plan.”

I know of a good dungeon filled with weak monsters back on Aelid, so we both warp there and meet up right away in Zid Caina. “Let's talk to the chief, he may have something for us to do in the dungeon while we're there.” I suggest.
The village chief talks, and talks, and talks. He talks about how nice it is to see young adventurers going around for work, he talks about the pleasant weather, he talks about old stories and legends. Finally, we manage to get him to tell us that the guard on the road to the dungeon has been looking for help, and we should head over there. We quickly thank him and make our escape before he gets started on crops.
We follow the road north out of town for a while before coming across a small cottage with a sign labeled 'healer's hut'. “Think we should stock up?” Hale asks.
I think for a moment, then shake my head, “No, I have a bundle of phoenix feathers and some healing potions. We shouldn't need anything more than that for a simple dungeon.” I answer, and we keep walking.
We remain quiet the entire trip; Hale seems entirely against talking, and I am against one-sided conversations. A few minutes after the healers hut we meet a guard on the road, he seems more competent than the average guard, with full black armor and a wicked-looking longsword, he looks like the type that could seriously rough us up if we tried anything. He hails us as we come into sight, and we hurry over.
“Hey, adventurers! Good, just in time.” The guard says, resting a hand on his sword, “Listen, are you two going to Arbie, by any chance?”
I nod, “That was our plan, yeah. Why, something wrong?” I ask him.
The guard scratches the back of his head, “Well, something like that. I just saw a suspicious-looking character run down the road into the dungeon. I can't go after him and leave the road unguarded, but it'd be a great help if you could go see what he's up to.”
I shrug, it makes no difference to me, as we're going there anyways, so I look to Hale with a questioning glance. She's still for a few seconds, then looks at me and nods. “Well, I guess we can do that.” I tell the guard.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” He says, and hands me what looks like a couple of tickets. “Use these at the dungeon shrine, and it'll take you to the same part of the dungeon as the shady guy. Figure out what he's doing and report back, and I'll reward you.”
I nod and tuck the passes into my pocket, then me and Hale continue on. “Well, looks like work found us.” I remark, and Hale just grunts in agreement.

Just a little while later the two of us find the entrance to the dungeon. From the outside, it looks like any other cave except for the signpost saying 'Arbie Dungeon' standing outside.
I take a deep breath and turn to Hale, “Well, here we are. It should be a pretty easy dungeon, but don't be reckless.” I say, and she nods and gestures for me to go first. Inside the cave is a shrine with a huge stone statue of the goddess Sessera, and we walk onto the stone platform in the center.
I glance at Hale to make sure she was ready, then I take our two passes and place them in an offering bowl. The passes disappear in a flash of light, and the room dims. Behind the statue of the goddess, the giant doors that had barred the way vanish, and we're free to go.
I pull my control bars out of my belt and walk to the downward steps beyond, “Let's get going, then.”

No one ever accused Arbie dungeon of being difficult to fight through; the only monsters we encounter are bats and giant spiders, and an occasional mimic dashing our hopes of getting treasure. They all go down quickly, and we progress without a single scratch between us.
I watch Hale as she fights through the dungeon to get a feel for her abilities. The young human is certainly in tune with her swords, she fights with grace and power, diving in and out of her enemy's attack range and cutting them to ribbons before they can react. These are very simple monsters, and even a child could probably defeat them without too much difficulty, but they way Hale moves, how she controls both of her swords so precisely at the same time, speaks of impressive skill and latent talent just waiting to be unlocked. Her only weakness, it seems, is an inability to divide her attention, because whenever she looks my way to make sure I'm doing OK, she slips up and makes beginner mistakes until she manages to break off from combat and get her thoughts back in order.
For my part, I don't even need to summon my marionette; the monsters in Arbie dungeon are all weak enough that I can take them using only basic mana string techniques and bashing them with my combat-modified control bars.
In practically no time at all, we're standing in front of the giant doors to the boss room, and Hale has the key to unlock the heavy chains over it.
“We didn't find that shady guy that the guard asked us to get.” I comment as she starts unlocking the door, “Think he's in there?”
“Can't be.” Hale says as chains start dropping from the lock, “Monsters were there, key was there, door's locked, he couldn't have come in.”
I shrug, all good points, I suppose. It wasn't as if the suspicious-looking guy could have waltzed in past all the monsters, left the key where it was, and gone into the room and left it locked. He must have not come into the dungeon in the first place.
Finally, the last chain detaches from the lock and the head-sized mechanism falls the ground, letting the large stone doors swing open.
Inside the room is a whole mess of giant spiders, red ones, white ones, black ones, I can't even keep track of all the different types. The real prize, though, is the ten foot tall red spider standing in the middle of the room.
Hale gasps as she sees the monstrosity, and I grin. “Ready?” I ask, and the girl raises her swords and prepares to charge.
Giant spiders are generally no problem at all, and the ones we've encountered in here so far haven't been an issue, either. But there's just so many of these buggers that they threaten to overwhelm us with sheer numbers. I run to the left side of the room, while Hale goes right, and we start beating on every arachnid within arm's length, aiming to clear most of them out before working to the giant in the center. Dozens of spiders rush me, and I fight them off as well as I can; bashing them, beating them, tying them in place with increasingly tight mana strings, and even grabbing spiders with my strings and swinging them like flails. The fight seems to be going well on my end, until I feel a piercing pain in my shoulder, and look to see a smaller spider, little enough to fit in the palm of my hand, crawl out from under my clothes. I splat the thing where it stands and go back to fighting, but it isn't long until my limbs begin to feel heavy and it starts getting harder to fight. The reason isn't hard to deduce: I've been injected with paralysis poison.
I keep fighting, now like my life depends on it. It's not like I'd die here short of a dark miracle, but at worst the poison could completely immobilize me and I'd get beaten into half-death by the spiders, at which point I could use a Spirit Stone to revive myself and keep fighting, completely renewed. But doing so in front of such weak enemies in front of Hale would be embarrassing and I would really rather not goof up like that on our first dungeon raid together.
I manage to finally clear out all the spiders on my side of the room, but the poison runs through me in full effect now and my limbs are too heavy to move. I collapse to the ground and can only see Hale running to engage the giant spider.
The queen spider is massively more powerful than the small fry we've been fighting the whole time, and its thick coating of fur slows Hale's blades enough that they do barely any damage. The monster strikes back with its two forelegs, and Hale barely manages to dodge them in time to avoid the blow. The two exchange a few more attacks, with Hale doing no noticeably damage and the spider missing by a hair with each attack.
The rhythm of the battle changes when the spider queen lunges forward, biting with its massive, poisonous fangs and swiping with one foreleg. Hale manages to block the attacks with her swords, but only just, and the force from the spider shoves her back, feet sliding through the dirt. But then, while she struggles to hold back the powerful foreleg and venomous fangs, the spider raises its second foreleg to attack--
“Hale, watch out!” I shout from my place at the ground. I see Hale's back straighten like a rod and she stands there, unmoving, while the spider's leg comes in and smacks her, sending her flying across the room. She stays down for just a second before pushing herself back up onto her feet. “What was that?” I yell across the chamber at her, “You should have been able to avoid that easily!”
“Shut up!” Hale shouts back. Her hood has fallen off and I can see her face is burning bright red, “Quit watching me! Look someplace else!” While she yells nonsense at the paralyzed me, the spider rushes forward to continue the fight now that it has the upper hand. Hale's movements become slow and awkward, and she's continually taking more and more hits.
Blast it, blast it! I yell at myself, trying to move. The tiny spider that bit me couldn't have had that much poison in it, and I could already see the effects wearing off when my fingers wiggled a bit, but it was still going to take some time before I could join the fight; Hale would have to fend for herself.
The spider presses the attack relentlessly, and Hale is forced up against the wall of the dungeon. With nowhere to back up to, the swordswoman is forced to defend with zero mobility, no space for footwork and no way to use broad strokes, she's in trouble.
Sensing her dilemma, the spider starts making obvious moves for her to try and avoid or defend from only to hit her with a weaker, lightning-fast attack from the opposite direction. It's toying with her, now, but in a way that's good, because it gives me time for the poison to wear off.
Finally, I get enough strength back that I can get back to my feet and raise my arms. My body feels limp, dull, like I'm watching someone else move, but I can at least make basic movements, and that has to be good enough for now. “Hale!” I yell at the desperate warrior, “Force it back as far as you can, get some space between you!”
“I said... stop watching me!!” Hale yells as she leaps up, puts one foot on the wall, then pushes off and slashes away at the spider, cutting through a row of eyes and forcing it back, screeching in pain. Hale lands heavily, off-balance, giving the spider time to regain its senses, and the beast goes to charge.
Clang! Whum*crunch*! The spider's would-be final attack is halted as it runs face-first into a steel barrier and has one foreleg hit and destroyed by a sledgehammer. It leaps back, screeching again in pain in its spidery way as it looks at what just hurt it.
I'm standing there now between Hale and the giant spider, raising my control bars high, and in front of me, linked by mana strings, is my marionette. The child-sized wooden doll is still in the follow through of an attack, giant meat cleaver out to the side with the sledgehammer extended outward. I lower my hands, and the marionette puts the weapons away inside its body, showing not a trace of them. “Good work, partner,” I say, grinning as I look down at Hale, “but I'll take it from here.”
I look back at the giant spider just as it charges, and I push my hands forward, making the marionette shoot off and draw its cleaver. The puppet swings before the spider, and the giant arachnid swings its good foreleg right into the path of the cleaver, which severs it straight away. Immediately, I make the marionette draw its sledgehammer and uppercut the spider's head with it, forcing it half off the ground.
Before the spider can regain its senses from the jarring blow, I step forward, and the marionette moves with me. I make the puppet leap upward and slam its cleaver down on the spider's face, burying the blade shallowly, then stand on the hilt and jump up higher into the air. The marionette begins flipping in the air, and comes down with the sledgehammer in both hands. The hammer slams into the back of the meat cleaver, sending the brutal blade shooting downward through the spider, cutting the beast in half before burying itself in the ground.
The marionette lands on one knee, holding the hammer out to the side and its free hand in front of it. I grin triumphantly, waving it away to disappear in a puff of smoke. “Exit, center stage.” I say, then look back to Hale. The girl is looking at me like I just did something really cool but she would sooner die than admit it. I can't help but feel a little crestfallen.
I sit on the ground, needing a rest while the remaining poison works out of my system, and toss Hale a potion. While the girl uncorks the vial and drinks the scientifically made healing drought, I look around at the cleared-out boss room. “Well, we did it.” I say, then glance to Hale, “No thanks to our lack of teamwork. Why'd you freeze up when I yelled?”
As if to prove my point, Hale freezes when I mention her freezing, then sets her half-drank potion bottle down and casts her robe hood back up, hiding her face. “Because you were watching.” She mumbles, “'Fraid of messing up.”
I look at Hale in bewilderment. She was afraid of messing up while I was watching? “You were afraid of messing up?” I ask, and she nods. “So, you're just... nervous?” She nods again, drawing her knees up to her chest and burying her shadow-obscured face there. “You mean all this time you've been hiding yourself and barely talking, you weren't trying to be the stoic, mysterious, strong-silent type, you were just... shy?” Hale doesn't respond this time, but I hear a little groan escape from her which tells me I've hit the mark dead-on.
I sigh, rubbing my forehead. Click, you moron. I think, If you're going to set up me and your cousin in a party, at least tell me she has crippling social anxiety! Come to think of it, that was probably covered in the part of the letter he spilled a drink on and smudged out, but he could have re-wrote it!
Honestly, I'm not the best at dealing with people, either, so I'm not entirely sure how to address her issue without making the situation worse. Finally, I give up thinking and stand up, “Well, there's no point in sitting around in the dark, dank dungeon room. Let's get our loot and head out.” I say, and Hale rises to her feet, nodding and sheathing her swords.
First, we go to the corpse of the giant spider and look on the ground around it, and each of us find a small key. Next, we walk to the wall opposite where we entered from, and beheld another set of huge stone doors. Now that the boss guarding them is dead, the massive stone doors swing inward with the lightest press. Inside, the loot room was more brightly lit than the rest of the dungeon, with a lantern hanging in each corner. In the middle of the room is a pillar of stone left untouched by those who excavated the dungeon, probably acting as a support for the statue of the goddess in the entrance, and at either end of the room there was a treasure chest with a lock on it for the small keys we picked up from the giant spider's carcass.
But what catches our eyes immediately is the shady guy in dark robes, standing directly in front of us with his back turned.
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Oddood198
 
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Sat Dec 13, 2014 12:16 am

Ok, not gonna lie, I completely forgot about this this week. It's a couple hours past mindnight, but, whatever, here's the new chapter anyways. And it's from my phone, so the formatting may not be great, but I'll fix it when I get a chance. This'll teach me to forget my scheduled updates, I suppose.


Misadventures of the Unusuals



Chapter the Fourth: A Shady Guy, some Loot, and a Proper Party.


The suspicious-looking guy doesn't notice us as we stand there, watching him. He's wearing all dark robes, much like Hale, but I get the feeling it isn't because this guy is too shy to show his face in public; he seems like the type that legitimately wants to look dark and mysterious. He's studying the pillar supporting the statue a level above us so intently that it almost feels wrong to disturb him. Still, a shady guy is a shady guy, and this is undoubtedly the shady guy the road guard asked us to find.

“Hey, buddy.” I say and the man jumps a foot in the air, whirling around to face us. The only break in his pitch-black attire is a white mask he has over his face with an odd red lettering in it, some kind of ancient rune? Or maybe a five year old's scribbling. “What're you up to way down here?”

The shady guy looks startled, but soon regains his composure, or tries to look like it, anyway. He jabs a quivering finger at us, “Ha... haha! Loot at you, silly mortals!” He's so surprised by our presence that his voice comes out high-pitched and cracked. He pauses to clear his throat and take a deep breath, then goes on. “Haha! Look at you, silly mortals!” Did he really have to start over? “You are now in the presence of a priest of our Holy Mother! What makes you think you have the right to stand before such a great man?”

I lift an eyebrow and glance at Hale, only to find she's hidden herself, poorly, behind me in the face of this new guy. I shake my head and look back at the guy, “This dungeon is unowned property, what makes you think you have the right to try and claim it for yourself?” I retort.

The man in the mask recoils visibly at my pointed question, “G-good point...” he mutters, then shakes his head and gives himself a couple slaps on the face. “I-I have the right given by our Holy Mother! She who watches us from the nether sky and... and... Hah! As if you would understand if I told you!”

“So, what, you're in some creepy cult?” I ask, then look behind him, “Don't tell me you're trying to chip away at that and knock down the statue of the goddess? Do you have any idea how illegal that is? You'll be facing five to ten years for defacing public property and general poor citizenry.”

The man takes in a breath to respond, then steps back and crosses his arms, “Huh, wow, that's true. Hadn't thought of it like that...” He again snaps himself out of it and goes back to yelling, “Y-you impudent child! Anything that our Holy Mother--”

He stops when he sees me grinning dangerously and cracking my knuckles. “Child? Who? You making a small crack? Hey buddy, if you wanna fight just say the word.” I tell him, stepping forward menacingly.

The masked man squeals and runs back behind the stone pillar before I get him in arms reach. “You, you may have bested me this time, but I'll be back! For the glory of our Holy Matron!” He yells, then raises a wing-shaped teleportation item and disappears.

Hale steps out from behind me and looks around, “...Weird.” She says, and I agree.

“Not the first wacky cultist I've met in my travels,” I say, “but probably the wackiest. Anyways, let's get our loot and head outta here.” We flip a coin to see who gets which chest, and then use our tiny keys to unlock them. Inside my chest is a few hundred gold coins, some magic powder for enchanting, and...

“A stick.” I say, pulling out a roughly carved, vaguely sword-shaped chunk of wood. “I got a stick. Great.” I turn to see what Hale got, and it looks like mostly the same thing; gold, magic powder, and a pair of old boots.

“Wow. Impressive.” Hale says, and I honestly can't tell f she's being sarcastic or not. Between falling in love with my hideous robe and paying a exorbitant amount of money for her half-broken lute, she seems to have a sad little taste in material objects.

“Well, it's a beginner dungeon, nobody said the rewards would be great.” I say, dropping my gains in my bag. “Anyways, may as well get going now, nothing to do here.”

“Wait.” Hale stops me and pulls her old lute out of her bag, “We accomplished something. We need to celebrate it.” She says.

“Ah... You wanna play a song? Really? Over this?” She nods her head enthusiastically, “I don't have an instrument.” I say, though come to think of it I do recall tossing a lute in my storage space at some point, wonder if it's still there. “How about next time?”

Hale look extremely saddened as she puts the lute away, and I shrug inwardly, Nothing for it. I tell myself. We backtrack out of the dungeon and into the main room with the shrine, and the giant stone doors close behind us.

We leave the cave and make our way back down the road until we meet the guard. “Any luck with the suspicious guy?” He asks.

I shrug, “Depends on your definition of luck.” I say, and at his questioning glance, I continue, “The guy was in the loot room of the dungeon. Don't know how he got past all the monsters and lock, but there it is. I guess he was in some kind of cult, because he kept babbling about his 'Holy Mother' or something. Dunno what he was up to, but when I took the bait to start a fight, he just used a teleport item and got away.”

“I see...” The guard says, “Well, thanks for your help, I'll keep an ear out on the matter. Here, take these for your trouble.” He hands us both a couple of small green gems. They look nice at first glance, but I know from experience they're next to worthless. “No no, I know what you're thinking, don't worry. I have plenty to spare, the foxes around here carry them by all the time, you're doing me a favor getting rid of some.”

I begrudgingly force out a thank-you and drop the gems in my pocket, then me and Hale return to Zid Caina to sell off some of our worthless gains from the dungeon and get a bit of gold back.


An hour of selling, buying and trading later, me and Hale are sat down on the steps leading to the village chief's house, in the shade of the biggest tree in town, eating some sweet baked potatoes. The wind is blowing softly, and the sounds of everyday farm work carry over from the fields, giving an atmosphere of peace and relaxation.

I can't help but think about the newly-formed partnership between me and Hale, this shy, awkward human girl. Click set us up in a party because he thought we could do better with some teamwork, but did he even think of any qualifications other than us both being solo? I can only wonder if this partnership is going to last or if it would be best for us to go our separate ways.

“Hey, question.” Hale says, jolting me out of my thoughts and back to the present moment. I look up at her, sitting two steps above me, and annoyingly increasing the height difference between us. “Do you... Think we make a good team?”

Seems I'm not the only one questioning Click's good judgment. She's also worried about how this whole thing will turn out, it looks like. I sigh, placing my potato down and leaning back on the steps, looking up at the sun filtering through tree leaves. “Hard to say, at this point.” I answer, “It's clear you aren't used to working with other people, and I've been on my own for a couple years now, getting back into solo adventuring. Neither of us are exactly well-suited to be thrown into a party all of a sudden, if you ask me.” From the corner of my eye, I see Hale nod in agreement, and from my position below her I can see part of her face past the shadows of her hood, and she looks a little crestfallen.

“But...” I continue, “Your idiot cousin does have a point in that we can only do so much on our own, either. I think, with some work and practice, we can be a great team.”

Hale smiles, and turns away to hide it. “Good to hear it.” She says, trying, in vain, to keep the happiness out of her voice. “But will we be enough? Sword and puppet, nothing else?”

I shrug, “I can do some magic, too. And I'm an elf, so I'm inherently skilled at archery, but... You do make a good point. Most parties are made up of at least three members; with varying skill sets, it's overall more rounded and well prepared that way.”

“So, should we find a third member?” Hale asks.

“About that... I actually did hear from an old...” I pause, trying to come up with a suitable term, “An old headache of mine that he'd be in the area and looking for a visit. Maybe we can talk him into joining us and see how he fits in.”

Hale looks a bit uncertain about meeting another random stranger, but reluctantly agrees to let the guy try out. “I guess it couldn't hurt. Probably...”

I sit back up and go back to eating my sweet potato, watching the sun set across the hills from us. “Nice day, I comment, and Hale grunts in agreement through a mouthful of taters. Seems this conversation with the awkward little girl has come to an end, leaving us in peaceful quiet.

While we watch the sun slowly creep down behind the cover of the distant hills and mountain ranges, a far-off commotion reaches us, breaking the peaceful silence. We hear some shouting from the fields, but can't tell what it's about. We glance at each other, and shrug.

Ina few minutes, the sound grows closer and closer, yelling, accompanied by rhythmic thudding, like someone is drumming on the ground. We watch, curiously, and wait for the source of the clamoring to come into sight.

All of a sudden, a ten-foot tall giant comes shooting through the town square, riding a massive war-horse. The giant has eye-catching blue hair and a matching beard, but even more startlingly, he's dressed in naught but his skivvies and thigh-high boots. The giant has his arms raised high in the air and and shouting at the sky as he rides past, “Whoohoo! PAAAAAR-TAAAAAY!!!!”

Just as quick as he appeared, the giant fades from sight. Hale leaps to her feet, pointing in the direction the giant went, looking back and forth between him and me, trying to stammer out a response. “D-did you, what was, that guy, did you see that guy?!” She exclaimed.

I lowered my head into my hands and massaged my temples as an old, familiar headache sprang up deep in my skull. “That guy,” I said, ashamed of every word, “is our supporting member.”
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Oddood198
 
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Sun Dec 14, 2014 1:34 pm

This is funny. Period. I look forward to the next installment.
I....have nothing to say.
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Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Dec 19, 2014 9:08 pm

The time of this posting is 11:07, so I am ON TIME THIS TIME. Oh yeah, go me.


Misadventures of the Unusuals



Chapter the Fifth: The Party-Loving Giant and the Three Man Team



I look to my side, where Hale is sitting at one end of the table, and then across from her, where the giant is on the other side. After the giant dismounted his colossal horse to do a dance in the middle of the town square, I, reluctantly, pulled him aside to start our meeting. We had all decided to come into the inn, and out of the public eye, to have our introductions.

“Sorry, sorry!” The giant said, grinning and laughing. His stretched out legs dominate all the space under the table, forcing me to turn to the side and Hale to scoot back. He had re-dressed himself, and is now fully covered in heavy fur and leather from the mountainous, icy wastelands up north. “When you told me you wanted to party, I just assumed you meant with dancing and singing. You shouldn't be so misleading, Bod!”

“Yes, Bod.” Hale says, giving me an icy glare, “Shame on you.”

Hale, understandably, does not seem very fond of our newest teammate. And honeslty, at this point, neither am I, after he introduced himself -and me- to all of Zid Caina in such an embarrassing way. Not that he seems to mind, anyway. He always has been a bit shameless in that regard, I personally think he's a bit messed up in the head.

I shrug, “Well, misunderstandings happen. It isn't a big deal.” I say, trying to deflect at least a bit of Hale's hostility, but there seems to be no effect. “For now, let's do some introductions.” I leaned back and gestured back and forth between the two, prompting them to talk to each other.

Hale remains blood-chillingly silent and, for once, actually seems a bit menacing under the cover of her dark robes and tight-lip. Though I can't tell if her silence is driven by disgust or shyness.

The giant, however, is unfazed by her quietness. “Hey, the name's Galley, nice to meet ya, lil' thing!” He exclaims loudly, reaching a massive hand across the table to shake.

Hale regards his hand for a moment, then scoffs and turns her head away, prompting Galley to finally lower his hand. “Bod, why is this here?” She asked finally.

“Galley is... and old... well, he and I know each other from way back.” I say, crossing my arms. “He's one of the only acquaintances I still have contact with in the adventuring world. He's actually proficient with dual guns and broadswords, so despite his... well, he can be useful in a party.”

“PAAAAAAR-TAAAAAAY!!” As soon as I say the word, Galley stands up and shouts, flailing his arms around in some manner I can only assume is dancing. I quickly stand up and stomp on his foot with all the force I can muster, drawing a cry of pain from him as he falls to the floor with a crash.

I sigh, sitting back down. “Like I said, despite some traits of his, he actually can be useful.” I say, but Hale looks even less impressed now.

“True, I know my way around the blade and the bullet, but do you know what my true passion is?” The giant asked, sitting back down at the table, effectively calmed down.

Putting disturbing images in people's heads, never to be forgotten?” Hale suggested sharply.

Galley laughed, “No, no, but that's good too.” he said, “No, my true passion is two-fold: Music and comedy!”

I let out a quiet groan as he says that. Galley's music isn't bad, though he continually insists it can be of some use in battle, but his 'comedy' is just cringe-worthy.

Hale nods slowly, “Uh-huh.” She says, then looks at me again, “Bod, you didn't seem to hear me. Why. Is. It. Here?”

“Oh, oh, guys, listen to this one!” Galley says, slapping his hand down on the table to draw our attention. “OK, so there are these two elves walking along a bridge, Peat and Repeat-”

I stand up, forcing my chair down onto the ground with a clatter. “Excuse me, I don't feel well; I need to get some air.” I say, quickly going to leave the room. On my way out I hear the rest of the exchange.

“So, Pete and Repeat. Pete falls off, who's left?”

“...Repeat?”

“OK, so there are these two elves...”

I get outside and lean against the wall of the inn, counting off seconds. 1...2...3...4--


Crash! Slam! Thud, thud, thud. Boom!


I hear a series of loud noises leading up to the so longer quiet and very irritated Hale bursting through the front door of the inn. “We are NOT keeping it!” She exclaims, then stalks off into the town.

I sigh and shake my head, “If we had another option, I would agree.” I say after her.


“It's still here. Why is it still here?” It's an hour later, and Hale has returned to the inn room to find me polishing my control bars and Galley asleep, sprawled out under and over the table. She does not look pleased to see the giant still here.

“Well, the inn only had the one room available.” I explain, looking up from my tools, “I tried to negotiate with the innkeeper, but he said--whoa!” I duck as the swordswoman throws a potion bottle at me, but I'm not fast enough and the tough glass hits me in the forehead without shattering.

“That hurt!” I exclaim, rubbing my forehead and shaking the bottle angrily in the air.

“Then drink it.” Hale replies shortly, and I begrudgingly uncork the bottle and drink the potion inside, soothing my pain and immediately healing the forming bruise. “Seriously, why isn't it gone yet?”

I sigh, dropping the empty bottle in my bag to refill later, then set my control bars to the side. “I know it made a bad first--” too late, I catch myself calling Galley 'it' like she does, but I go with it for now, “--impression, and he may not have the... best sense of humor. But, he is a good gunner, good enough to be our support, and we need someone to watch our backs.”

Hale watches me for a moment before finally breaking her gaze and looking at the giant, sleeping blissfully on top of the table. “Isn't 'Galley' a bit weird of a name for a giant?” She asks finally.

I shrug, “Yeah, I guess so. I hear he used to be a sailor, and worked in the kitchens on the ship. That's called the galley, so...” I trail off, shaking my head, “He never struck me as the kind to be good with food, though, but who knows? People can have the most unexpected talents sometimes.”

“Psh.” Hale crosses her arms, leaning against the wall while she glares at the sleeping giant. She doesn't look happy about having him along at all, but she seems willing to take my word for it- for now. “So, what's the plan?” She asks, glancing down at me.

I pick my control rods back up and go back to wiping them clean with a rag and some wood polish. “Beats me.” I say, “I guess at this point the best thing to do would be to go questing. Get some gold, experience in the field, and make some connections along the way. There's a big city a ways south of here we could go to...” I stop, looking up at her, “Have you used many of the Skyways?” I ask her.

She gives me a blank look, making it clear she hasn't, and I sigh. “The Skyways are a way of travel around the continent.” I explain, “Basically, a system of portals. Nobody knows who made them, or how they work, but they know they somehow supply themselves with an endless supply of mana and instantly teleport the user to any other portal they want to use. But you can only go to portals you've been to before.”

“And that's... none.” Hale says.

“Unfortunately, precisely.” I say, “I've been to a lot of them here, and on Fyelma, there's a similar system they call Mana Roads, and I've used most of them, too. Unfortunately, you haven't used the Skyways, and I doubt Galley has; he's pretty new to Aelid. Are you OK with going to the city on foot?”

Hale shrugs, “You da boss.”


I stay awake late that night, while Hale is asleep in the bed and Galley remains passed out over the table, I bundle up with some blankets and lie down on the floor next to the door. Sleep is evasive, though, as Hale's words echo through my head.

“You da boss.”

I've never been the leader of a party before. Back with my other group of adventuring friends, before I started out on Prism, I was the weakest, most inexperienced person in the party. Everyone else was leaps and bounds ahead of me, and try as I might, the gap was too wide for me to cross on my own. They never made an issue of it, and tried to keep me feeling like a proper member of the group, but when it came to our skills in the field, they excelled in every area. It's hard not to feel inferior when fighting side-be-side with warriors who can bring down a tree with a single stroke or cover a league in a minute on foot.

But now it's different. I'm different. Now, with Hale and Galley, I'm the head of the party, the most experienced, the leader. The boss. The thought hadn't occurred to me until Hale said it, but it's true; I'm in charge now, and my allies defer to my authority in the field. It's... a sobering sentiment.

I roll over, pulling the blankets around myself tightly, feeling a bit like a child seeking refuge from his fears inside of his sheets. The prospect of having authority, command, is daunting to me. It's not a responsibility I ever envied or sought, but now, for better or worse, it's mine. When we're out in the field, adventuring in the dungeons, ruins and wilds of Prism, my party is going to need me to be better than my best.

“Can't fail them.” I told myself, and fell asleep moments later.


The next morning, I'm awoken by shouting, thumping, crashing, abysmally loud music, and a banging on the door. I'm instantly awake and on my feet, throwing the blankets aside as I look around and get a hold on the situation.

The room's trashed; furniture toppled and items scattered everywhere, a glass zooms by my head and shatters against the wall. Gelley's back down to his skivvies and thigh-high boots again, hunched over and doing a floor-shaking dance while he strums away on his own, giant-sized lute and singing some local song of his. Hale is standing on the bed, grabbing whatever comes to hand and throwing it at Galley while screaming for him to get some clothes on. The pounding on the door is probably the inkeeper, wanting to quiet us at best and evict and ban us at worst.

Without any further hesitation, I spring into action. I grab my control bars and rush at Galley, but target Hale first. I reach my control bars toward her and send out mana strings, binding her, holding her in place and clamping down on her mouth so all she can do is glare. Next, I kick Galley in the knee and stomp on his foot to double him over, more than he already is to avoid the ceiling, then elbow him in the ribs to put him on the ground for a minute. I grab Galley's discarded giant coat and sweep it at the area in front of the door to clear it of glass, shards of pottery, and other debris from Hale's onslaught. Finally, with my partners stilled, silenced, and the mess partially hidden, I open the door a crack and look out at a very grumpled inkeeper.

I give him my best, most innocent smile, “Yeeeeees?” I ask him, trying to look as blameless as possible, though I know it must be a lost cause at this point.

If looks could kill, the inkeeper would have decimated my entire family line. As it is, I manage to only cringe and wince from the intensity of his look. “Get. Out.” He says, and I nod and shut the door.

I sigh, leaning against the door and looking at the mess that Hale and Galley have managed to make while I slept, then I look at the window to find it isn't even dawn yet. This, I think to myself, is going to be a long, long partnership, and perhaps not all in the best of ways.
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Oddood198
 
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Fri Dec 19, 2014 9:31 pm

Okay, barely, we won't kill you this time.

Well, the giant Galley sure seems....awkward. Looking forward to the next piece!
I....have nothing to say.
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Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
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Wolfsong
 
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Sat Dec 27, 2014 11:41 am

OK, so, I completely forgot about this yesterday. But it was the day after Christmas, I had new toys! Semi-valid excuses!

Also, my computer situation has been officially resolved. I will be doing either less idling and more writing, or more gaming and less writing. We'll see. But for now...


Misadventures of the Unusuals


Chapter the Sixth: The Street Urchin, the Black Dragon, and the Guy who watches and defends





“Hey, guys, let's go get some manasabres!” It's been a week since the three of us all met up, and now Galley charges into our inn room with that unexplained suggestion.

I look up from the table where I've got a couple of quest scrolls laid out, detailing the specific requirements of quests we've taken on. I'm in the process of sorting them by location, so we can focus on the greatest concentration of them at any given time. “What? Galley, what is a manasabre?” I ask, trying not to sound worried. I'm very worried.

Hale looks up from her own quest scrolls she's sitting in the corner with. In addition to the party quest scrolls I'm sorting, the three of us also have personal quests that we take care of in our own time. She pulls her hood back slightly to look at the two of us, “What's this? What are we doing?” She asks.

“Manasabres!” Galley exclaims, as if it explains everything. I gesture for him to keep going, and he happily does. “Around town, I heard people talking about these awesome manasabre things, and when I asked what they were, a guy told me that they were swords that relied on the wielder's mana to form the blade. He said they're sharper than a dragon's claw and can cut through one's hide like butter!”

I have to admit, not to Galley, but in general, that that does sound kind of awesome. “How do we get manasabres, then?” I ask.

“Kill a dragon.” Galley replies simply. I sigh and put my head down on the desk, and Hale shakes her head and goes back to her scroll. “What?” Galley asks.

“We can't kill a dragon,” I say, looking up at the giant, “They are way too far out of our league. We should stick to...” I look around on the table and grab a quest scroll, showing it to him, “Stuff like this.”

Galley leans down and peers at the request. “Gather ten brown bear Firare scrolls?” He asks in disbelief.

I look at the scroll, then put it down quickly, “Oh, no no, that's also too high-level for us.” I say, then show him a different one.

“Kill a dozen white spiders.” Galley reads, “WHY?! We could kill a hundred of them and it wouldn't make the place any less infested, a dozen of them makes no difference at all!”

“But we can take on a dozen spiders.” I say, “A dragon, not so.”

“But there's three of us, we'll have it outnumbered.” Galley insists. “And I even heard there's a guy in Edea who can take us to them!” Before I can protest, the giant continues on, giving me puppy dog eyes literally the size of saucers, “And if we do lose, it's not like we'll die. Nothing with Noel's blessing dies on Prism, so at the worst we'll just have to repair our gear and restock medical supplies afterward.”

I sigh, rubbing my forehead, “No, Galley, no, we're not going out to fight a dragon. It's a very bad idea, and it should be left to people who know what they're doing.”

“Come oooooon!” Galley shouts, banging his fists down on the table, “I wanna get a manasabre!”

I lean back off the table, tipping my chair back on it's hind legs, and look at Hale. “It's gonna throw a tantrum again.” She says unhelpfully.

“I know, I know.” I say, looking back up at Galley. Last time he threw a tantrum over not getting something, we got thrown out of our inn again, and this is a nice inn; I'd rather stay. I sigh, “Fine, fine! We'll go out dragon hunting.” I say, holding up my hands in surrender.

“Yes!” Galley says, pumping a fist in the air and cracking a ceiling beam. He presses on, ignoring the damages, “All right, everyone, continent warp to Fyelma. We'll meet in Edea! Warp!”

And just like that, in a shower of glittery sparks, Galley disappears from our room in the inn and reappeares somewhere across the ocean in Fyelma.

I look back at Hale, who shrugs. “We could just leave it.” She suggests.

I nod slowly, “We could, yes.” I agree, “But you know it-- he would find us soon, and we'd get an earful from him.”

She narrows her eyes at me, “You just want to get one of those manasabres.” She says accusingly.

I shrug, “It'd be nice, sure, but I don't think the reward is worth the risk.”

Hale sighs, “Ah, poor mister boss guy. Trying to be all responsible and wise. Cute. See you in Edea.” She says, then stands up and drops her quest scroll into a stack with her others. “Warp.” Then I'm all alone in the room.

I sigh yet again, it seems I was right in thinking I would make a habit of it. I tie my turban over my head and pull the horrifically ugly robe on around me.

“Warp.”

It feels like a sandstorm is blowing up in Edea, and I quickly move to a side street to get to the cover of some buildings. The sand is blowing so thickly in the wind that there's practically zero visibility. “Great.” I mutter; it's going to be next to impossible to find them in this weather. I'll have to lay low while the storm blows itself over and hope they have the common sense to do the same.


Sandstorms are pretty common here, really; Edea is built on a hill backed by cliff walls, so it kind of forms a natural wind-catcher. Most of the time when a storm starts up, people just close their windows and go about their day, but for those of us who don't own permanent residences, we just sit between buildings and try to have patience.

Standing against a building with my arms crossed and eyes closed, listening to the wind howl, there's not much for me to do but let my mind wander as it pleases. I think back on the old days, on my adventures through more hostile deserts than this. Filled with cutthroats, bandits and brigands, and that was just the human threats. Lowlives have never been much of an issue for me, I've been to dens of thieves, cities of killers, island fortresses filled with pirates and mischievous monkeys. I made pretty good use of the good 'ol 'five finger discount' sometimes, myself, back in the day. I learned the skills of a thief, and learned how to live around them.

Which is why, when I felt the slightest tug at my coinpurse, my hand reacts with lightning speed and an iron grip on the thin wrist of the poor pickpocket that tried to make their day's earnings off me. I open one eye and look down as the hand tenses up and the would-be pickpocket gasps in surprise from my quick, reflexive counter.

The 'thief' is just a kid, a boy, maybe twelve? Short enough for it. He's wearing a cloak so patched up I think he cannibalized the hood, letting his unkempt blonde hair loose, and raggedy clothes more weathered than most of the structures around here.

Most people think, for some reason, that all elves are have perfect living conditions and never want for anything, but that's far from true. The fact is, most of us live in a harsh desert, and some of us die, and those who do sometimes leave children to fend for themselves, leading to urchins like this resorting to petty thievery to try and make ends meet.

After a second, the boy yanks his hand free from my idle grip and jumps back, out of my reach, glaring at me all the while. “Hey, whaddya want, weirdo?” The kid snaps at me, as if I'm somehow the one at fault here. What I want is for somebody to put this kid over their knee and give him a good spanking, but I'm the only one around and I can't be bothered to do it myself.

I shrug, “Oh, nothing. Just marveling at how curious it was you happened to trip and hit my coinpurse.” I say, smirking smugly, “That's the only explanation for what just happened that I can come up with, because that? Kid, that was NOT pickpocketing.”

The kid growls and stamps his foot in the sand in annoyance. “Hey, nobody asked you! What I do is none of your business!” He exclaims. I would normally be worried that a tantrum would draw some undue attention, but the shrieking of the wind is devouring the sound of our voices before it goes two feet outside this alley.

“It is my business when you try and steal my stuff, genius.” I say, I don't want to get into it with this kid right now; I can tell he's the type who won't remember a word I say after he's left, so I don't see a point to spending my energy arguing with a kid; after all I've got a dragon to fight once this storm quiets down. I cross my arms and close my eyes again, “Try all you want, but you won't get a single gold piece from me today.” I tell him.

The urchin is silent for a moment, then I hear him take a creeping footstep closer and, even without looking, I know he's silently reaching for my coinpurse again. I let him get as close as he can without actually touching the thing before acting. In a flash, I grab the turban off my head, whip the knot out of it, and tie it over the urchin's face like a blindfold.

“You're not getting my money, but you can have that.” I tell him, going back to my relaxed posture, “It'll keep the sand out of your hair, save you the trouble of shaking it out every time there's a storm.”

I look down at the kid, who's dead silent, and see his fists clenched and shaking. For a second, I think he's about to throw a punch at me, but then he just grabs the turban and pulls it down even further, hiding his face as he turns away. I can't help but smile; he probably doesn't get offered many handouts, that gift, small as it is, must mean a lot to him.

While I'm thinking that, the kid turns around and shoots me a harsh glare, “Next time, I'm getting all your money, but even if you beg I won't take that robe!” Before I can send back a biting response, the urchin ducks into another alley and disappears from view.

“Little punk.” I mutter, going back to waiting out the storm in silence and annoyance.


The storm rages on for another hour, and then the winds suddenly calm down significantly. I peek outside, and am pleased to find I can actually see through the remaining sand blowing. I decide to go to Edea's main plaza, which is a mostly open space with a raised platform in the middle, from which several pillars reach up and hold a giant disc in the air.

When I get to the plaze, lo and behold, I find Hale and Galley huddled , separately, against the platform with their backs to the wind. They're both covered in sand, and look rather unhappy. They must have been sitting there the entire time, through the whole sandstorm.

“You're late.” Hale tells me once she spots me approaching.

“And you're both idiots. Let's go.”


For a second, we puzzle over how we actually go about finding the black dragon, and then we hear someone at the edge of the plaza shouting randomly, “We need your help! The dragon menace is at hand!” Deciding that's a good enough clue, we go and talk to him.

“Greetings, brave souls!” The guy is in all white armor and stands like he has more sand than skin under it. “Are you aware of the dragon crisis? We need your help!”

“Uh... yeah. That's what we're here for.” I say, already short on patience without some guy yelling at me from three feet away. “Where do we find this dragon? We haven't met our suicidal act quota for the day yet.”

“When you're all ready, I'll teleport you there!” The guy shouts. I turn to Hale and Galley, and we all nod.

“We're ready, take us to the dragon.” No sooner have I said it than does Edea completely fade away, leaving us standing in the middle of the vast, empty desert. With no dragon in sight.

“Think he missed?” Galley asked, spinning in a circle and looking out to the horizon.

“This doesn't look like a dragon. No sir, not one bit.” Hale says, elbowing me, “This is what we get for listening to that.”

I sigh, “The dragon must have moved, or something.” I say, pulling Zeltan's whistle out of my pocket, “We'll have to search for it ourselves.” We came to Edea a few days ago and got a eagle-summoning whistle for Hale, too, so all three of us have the feathery, flying mounts, though Galley's is so big it looks like it could eat both of ours for breakfast, and I almost wonder how it can keep itself aloft with the giant riding on it.

We all mount up on our eagles and take off in separate directions, deciding to fly in an extending cone until one of us spots the dragon. “I wanted to cut wheat, but noooooo. Let's fight a dragon, oh yes, an invisible dragon!” I mutter once we're in the air.


Flying around in the desert with no direction reminds me way too much of last week when I was going to meet Hale at Kaies; the endless sea of sand stretching out below me, featureless, changeless, timeless, is, for a few seconds, a truly beautiful and breathtaking sight that quickly devolves into maddening repetition and disappointment.

“Maybe we should just let Galley look for his dragon while we go back home and go back to Aelid get some actual work done.” I suggest to Zeltan, and the riding eagle seems fond of that idea, even if it does mean figuratively clipping his wings. I'm just about ready to pull back and head for town when a piercing eagle cry resounded out through the sky, catching my attention. That was one of the others, signaling that they had found something. “Well, let's see if they've found the dragon, or if it's just a poor little lizard.” I say, turning Zaltin to head toward the cry.

I find Hale circling in the air, and Galley arrives to join her the same time as I do. “Find something?” I ask, and the swordswoman nods.

“Down there,” she says, pointing to the ground, “the dragon.”

I look down and see a black spot in the sand where she's pointing, but we're too high up to be sure of what it is. “Let's go take a look, could be the dragon.” I say, angling Zaltin down. As we get closer, I can see the creature more clearly; it's definitely reptilian, with glossy black scales covering its entire body. Standing on two legs, with two thickly shaped arms leading into massive blade-like claws that look like they could tear a giant apart. The creature has a curved beak-like face with a fin on top, and two golden eyes that peer out wildly.

“Looks like a dragon.” Hale comments as we circle low in the sky above it.

“Awful small, I think.” I say, it's bigger than any of us, sure, but not by much. I've seen bears as big as this thing.

“Wooh-hoo!! Manasabres incoming!” Galley shouts, whipping out his dual guns as he dives in toward the dragon.

“Galley, wait!”

“Iiiiiiidiot!”

Hale and I both shout at him, and a second later I bring Zeltan in for a dive, Hale a moment behind me. Fighting while we fly is difficult enough to be called impossible, so we dive off our eagles and land in the soft sand to fight.

“Over here, ugly!” Galley yells as soon as he hits the ground. He raises his dual guns and begins firing condensed mana bullets at the dragon. They strike the creature's head with little noticeable effect other than drawing its attention towards us.

The second I touch down in the sand, I pull out my control bars and summon my marionette, running forward to place it in the front of the battle.

With my max running speed set to 'puppet', Hale passes me easily, swords drawn, and crashes into the dragon like a bladed meteor. Hale fights quickly, moving and weaving around the dragon's range with her swords, and the monster is too big and slow to hit her, though it does come close. But both her swords and Galley's bullets are bouncing off the dragon's scales without doing very much damage.

I bring my marionette in and have it charge the dragon, swinging both cleaver and hammer into the beast, but even that did only a small amount of damage.

The dragon lets out a stream of hot breath, steaming even in the desert heat, and rears up, straightening its hunched over body and spreading massive claws out. The dragon strikes and sends my marionette flying up into the air, and if I hadn't had mana strings connecting it to my control bars, the puppet likely would have been lost out in the desert. The dragon swings again, at Hale, who raises her swords to block but barely manages to shield herself from the damage.

Galley runs forward, firing his guns, as if he's closing in to fight the dragon toe to toe. “What are you doing?!” I shout at him, but he keeps running.

“Aaaaaawwww yeaaaaah! This is a PAR-TAY!” The giant shouts as he closes in on the dragon. The dragon swings a huge claw at Galley, but, with surprising agility for someone of his size, the giant leaps into the air, doing a half flip and firing downward as he flies over the dragon, then completing the flip in time to land on his feet.

Galley and the dragon turn to face each other, and Galley raises one pistol, pointing it directly into the dragon's eye.

Click... click click click.

Galley's mana gun does nothing but click as he pulls the trigger, and he looks at it, puzzled. He brings up the gun in his other hand and tries to fire it a couple times, but it only clicks as well. He looks up at the dragon, grinning sheepishly, “Out of mana.” He says.

WHUM! The dragon rams its giant arm into Galley's stomach, throwing the giant flying through the air, away from the fight. Hale attacks the dragon from behind, and it turns to address her.

“Well this certainly isn't working.” I mutter, deciding it's high time for a change in tactics. If the dragon's hide turns blades and bullets, I'll just try something else. I dismiss my puppet, letting it disappear in a puff of smoke, then bring my hands together and close my eyes, reaching deep into the flow of mana inside me.

The desert heat is impossible to put out of my mind, and instead of trying to fight it, I draw it in, focusing on the intense heat, the light, the sun shining down to create it.

I open my eyes and look down, and between my hands a fireball forms, floating, dancing, growing the more I focus on it. “Hale!” I call, glancing up to the fight, “Get out of the way!” I will the fireball to move with on hand, raising it over my shoulder and then flinging it forward as soon as Hale moves.

The fireball flies through the air, losing a bit of mass as it goes but not enough to subtract from it's force. The flaming bolt of magic collides with the dragon's face, stunning the beast with a flash of light and drawing a roar out of it, and I'm not done yet.

The opposite of heat is cold, and I focus on that element to bring form to my mana. Razor sharp shards of ice take form and start to orbit me, like rings around a planet. I throw my arm forward and the shards follow it, breaking off from their orbit and flying in a line toward the dragon, each one smashing into it with considerable impact, shattering, but striking the dragon with great force.

As soon as the barrage of icicles ends, I see the dragon stagger forward, hit from behind, and Galley rushes out from behind it, swinging a greatsword upward and catching the dragon on the chin, knocking the beasts head upward. Galley's greatsword is taller than me standing on Hale's shoulders, and beyond the ability of anyone but a giant to wield, and Galley uses his considerable strength, not to swing it around in a flurry of strikes like Hale, but to whale away on the enemy with one powerful blow after another.

Hale rushes back in, striking the dragon on its side and knocking it off-balance, allowing Galley to get a few more good hits in. Since the two of them are getting the advantage, I summon my puppet back and send it in to help them. Between the three of us, we can manage to force the dragon back onto the defensive, and keeping all of us back at once is proving to be a great task for the creature.


Finally, with a great roar, bearing heavy wounds, the black dragon fall back and collapses in the sand, dead. The three of us fall to the ground, exhausted, but triumphant.

“Yeah, we win! Take that, reptilian species, we got one!” Galley yells.

“I'm actually shocked we were able to do that.” I say, pulling the cork off a potion with my teeth and downing the liquid, restoring a bit of stength.

“I'm just impressed that the giant's plan didn't get us all killed.” Hale says, still snarking at Galley but sounding at least a little pleased with our accomplishment.

A few moments pass while we revel in our victory and rest our tired selves, but finally the moment comes to an end and Galley asks, “So... where's our manasabres?”

I shrug, “I dunno, maybe this one didn't have any.” I say.

“Um... Better thought,” Hale says, pointing out to the desert as the dust from our battle settles, “Maybe he has them.”

Galley and I look to where she's pointing, and my jaw drops. There are hundreds of monsters like the one we just used every tool in our arsenal to defeat, but worse yet is the one, colossal dragon that towers above them all, making them look like mice. The dragon -the true dragon- stands on four legs, each as thick as a house and covered in huge scales covering it like plate-mail. It has two huge wings folded against it's body, and it's massive head is topped by two gargantuan horns.

None of say anything for a long few seconds; I've fought dozens of dragons before, maybe even hundreds,  but this is my first run-in with one on Prism, and I have to admit it's a rather more impressive sight, ten times the size of any other dragon I've seen. We're all a bit stunned, not sure how to react in the face of this veritable behemoth. Then Galley leaps to his feet and his guns glow with mana as he refills them, “Let's go get some manasabres!” He shouts, then dashes forward toward the dragon.

“Wait, no--” I try to call, but the giant is already gone, I sigh, then stand up, nudging Hale with my foot to make her do the same, and the two of us run in after Galley.

Once we're close enough for the dragon's minions to detect us, the battle goes about as ell as could be expected. The three of us had to fight like never before to bring down one of them, and with the creatures swarming over us now, we don't have a chance. We - or, more correctly, Galley, runs through the horde of lesser dragons, ignoring them and aiming for the giant dragon, and me and Hale chase along after him.

We try our best to avoid taking hits from the raptors; we want to be at our best when we get decimated by the dragon, but even a glancing blow deals heavy damage to us, and we're practically chugging potions nonstop throughout the whole sprint.

Finally, we're close enough for Galley's mana guns to hit the black dragon, and he fires away at it. The dragon ignores the attacks at first, but near the end of Galley's barrage it slowly turns to face us. The dragon's giant golden eyes take a moment to register us, and when it moves it does so sluggishly, as if it's tired enough to go to sleep.

The giant beast takes one step toward us with a giant foot, and the step throws up a storm of sand and crushes a couple raptors underfoot carelessly. The dragon reaches out with it's other foreleg and flicks a single great talon forward, catching Galley and throwing him back, far out of the crowd of raptors and somewhere out in the sand.

I look to the side to see Hale, but she's gone as well. I turn to watch and see she's run away a good distance and is now lying in the sand, playing dead in a hope to keep the dragon off of her. I give her a dirty look, then turn back to face the dragon, it's gaze now turned to me.

The dragon raises its foot and holds it over me, and I realize it's going to step on me, and I have no chance to defend myself from the crushing blow. Even if I do have Noel's protection keeping me from death, seeing the giant, clawed foot coming down to crash into me is still a sight I could do without, and I tense up, wanting to close my eyes but unable to look away as the end of the battle draws near.

BOOM! CHRRRRRSH! Just before the dragon's foot crushes me, an explosion erupts on the side of it's leg and throws the attack off course, and the massive foot crashes in to sand next to me, leaving me, barely, unharmed.

Another pair of explosions goes off on the side of the dragon's head and its shoulder, and the giant beast moans as the blows rock its body. The dragon raises a leg to stomp on me again, and I find myself still rooted to the spot, unable to turn away, much less try to move.

Just before I'm flattened, someone jumps between the me and the dragon, stopping the beast's attempts to flatten me by holding its foot back. My rescuer looks like a human, tall and slender, dressed in dark clothes, and in his hand is some contraption that looks like a stretched out version of one of Galley's mana guns with a giant-sized sword on the end. The man has both hands on his weapon as he holds the dragon at bay, and he looks back at me, a grin across his face. “Run.” He says.

I blink the surprise out of my eyes and go to move, I don't know who this guy is but he's giving me a golden opportunity to not get stepped on by a dragon, and that makes him OK in my book. I turn and run, almost losing my footing in the sand on the first couple of steps but I quickly get my balance back and I'm off like a shot. I look back at the man and see him shove the dragon's foot back and stab his sword into it, then pull his weapon free and spin around, slicing the sword through the dragon's scales before he also turns and runs. He grabs a jutting handle on his weapon and pulls it back, and the weapon begins to glow, and after a second he shoves the handle back forward and turns, raising the weapon to his shoulder as magical glyphs form in the air around the sword, and a bolt of magic shoots out from the contraption and strikes the dragon in the head, exploding on impact. The guy starts laughing, running after me and swinging his weapon to knock the raptors away while turning to shoot at the dragon every couple of seconds.

I see Hale lying in the sand right in my path, and I grab the girl by her hood and pull her up and along with me as I pass by, and in a second she runs along with me by herself. “Who's that guy?” She asks as we run, shouting over the cries of the raptors and dragon, and the booms from the guys shooting.

“I don't know, but I'm not about to question it!” I reply. After we run for a minute we come across Galley, out cold, lying in the sand. We try and move him, but he's too heavy for the two of us to even drag through the sand, and we struggle in vain.

After a moment, the new guy catches up with us, and he grabs Galley's arm and slings the giant over his shoulder like he weighs nothing, “Well don't stop, keep going!” He tells us, and the three of us continue our mad escape from the black dragon and his horde of raptors to live another day.
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Oddood198
 
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Sun Dec 28, 2014 12:52 pm

Oddood198 wrote:OK, so, I completely forgot about this yesterday. But it was the day after Christmas, I had new toys! Semi-valid excuses!

Also, my computer situation has been officially resolved. I will be doing either less idling and more writing, or more gaming and less writing. We'll see. But for now...

*hurls confetti into the air.*
About time Odd.
Still really good, keep it up. Don't ever stop.
I....have nothing to say.
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Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
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Location: somewhere between time and space

Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Jan 02, 2015 2:14 pm

Typed in a hurry, but I am on time! First chapter of the new year, hooray!


Misadventures of the Unusuals

Chapter the Seventh: The Chain of Adventuring and an Ally of Sorts



I don't know how long we keep running; me,still on an adrenaline high from my near-near-death experience, Hale, covered in sand from trying to just play dead, and then the new guy, carrying his bladed mana-gun in one hand and the unconscious giant Galley over his opposite shoulder, leading the way but still seeming relaxed, as if the giant weighed nothing at all.
Finally, he looks behind us, and gradually slows to a walk. “Looks like we got away.” He says, “The Black Dragon doesn't like to leave its usual stomping grounds, and the raptors don't go far from the dragon.” He explains as he lowers Galley down to lay in the sand.
As we stop our mad dash, I double over, hands on my knees, panting from the exertion of the run while sweat drips off of me. I feel like I'm cooking in desert sun. “Th...thanks for the help.” I tell the new guy, looking up at him.
He smiles, “Not a problem, I'm always happy to lend a hand to some idiot newbies who bite off more than they can chew.” He says, not unkindly, more like he genuinely enjoyed the experience and his review is just stating facts rather than throwing insults. “Let me guess, you guys were after the manasabres?” He asks, and I nod. “And I suppose it was... his idea.” He says, looking back at Galley, and I nod again,making him laugh.
“I knew it was a bad idea, but they badgered me into it.” I said, straightening up and raising my control rods to inspect them. They were wearing down and had a few small cracks; I'll have to get them repaired soon.
“Oh, you so wanted one.” Hale says, and I just sigh, shaking my head.
“I see.” Says the guy, “Let me give you a piece of advise: you'd be better off waiting for a big party of adventurers, high level ones, to fight the dragon, then try and get a few hits in and claim a share of the loot afterward. Trust me, works like a charm.”
“We'll do that sometime, it'll probably go better than this.” I say, “But not for a while. We need to deprive the giant of his treats so he knows what he did wrong.”
The guy chuckles again, “That's true. If one party member pulls a Leeroy Jenkins, you can't just try again immediately and let them off free without a punishment.”
“Pulls a what?” Hale asks.
“Don't worry about it.” I say, waving the question off. “I'm Bod, by the way, Bod Oam. This is Hale, and that sleeping pile of deadweight is Galley.”
The guy puts his mana-gun up through a holster on his back -though the huge sword at the end sticks out tremendously- and offers his hand to shake. “Calico. Nice to meet you.” He says.
“Likewise.” I accept the handshake. “So, what were you doing out here? Just waiting fr somebody to need rescuing from the dragon?” I ask.
Calico shrugs, “Something like that. There isn't much for me to do these days, so I just keep an eye out for adventurers getting in over their heads so I can help them. Retrieving items and running errands gets dull after a while, y'know? I mean, we have magic mailboxes for a reason, people!”
I can't help but laugh at that, “I know! I mean, a group of people, armed to the teeth and looking ready for war come up and ask if you need anything done, and you send them to fetch your laundry? Come on!”I exclaim, and we all burst out laughing.
We keep talking for a few minutes, and even Hale jumps in a time or two, taking our minds off of the giant monster and his horde of underlings that nearly tore us to shreds moments earlier.
“Ah,it's been a while since I had such a laugh.” Calico says finally, “But it's about time I moved on, other people are bound to need saving somewhere out there, all that. Andyu should probably revive our friend pretty soon, too.”
I look down at Galley and think for a moment, “Yeah, probably should.” I agree, then look back to Calico,”Thanks again for the help back there. You saved us a lot of repair fees and recuperation time.”
“No problem,glad I could help. See you guys around.” Calico says, and then his feet lift up off the ground, and he flies away into the desert sun.
“He can fly?!” Hale exclaims, watching him go.
“Yeah, some people can do that. And an adventurer of his level, I don't question much of anything they can do anymore.” I say as I begin rummaging through my bag for my healing items.
“So... He was way out of our league, huh?” Hale asks, sitting down cross-legged in the sand.
I pause my search, “to put it plainly...” I say, thinking, “He probably could have taken on that dragon by himself, if he wanted to.”
“What? No way!” Hale says, flabbergasted, “Then why didn't he just kill the thing instead of leading us on a mad run through the desert? Do you even know how much sand I got in my robe?!”
“I could guess, I'm wearing one, too.” I retort, going back to ruffling through my bag. “No, I think the reason he didn't just kill the dragon is that there wasn't really a point to it. Sure, he could have had the spoils practically all to himself, but he's strong enough he could just kill the thing any time he wanted, there just wasn't any reason to kill it -and all the raptors- over just running.”
Hale sighs, “People that strong are weird. Why doesn't he just retire or something? Live a leisurely life golfing?”
I shake my head, pulling a bundle of warm red feathers out of my bag. “It just doesn't work like that.” I say, “Have you heard of the chain of adventuring?” I ask, turning to face Hale and crossing my arms as I prepare for a lecture.
She shakes her head, “Nope.”
“Didn't think so.” I say, then launch into an explanation, “The chain of adventuring is like a chain of command, you start with the highest, the most in-control. In this case, high level adventurers like Calico. Next down is the expert adventurers, seasoned, skilled, nothing to sneeze at,but not quite at the peak. Then you keep working your way down to all the different types of adventurers. Somewhere around the bottom, there's us.”
“I suddenly don't like this analogy.” Hale says, but I ignore her, carrying on anyways.
“The thing is, it's a really long chain, and it wraps around everyone included in it, binding them together, and locking them into the adventuring life. We all have some degree of instant comradeship from it, and we can't just walk away from adventuring, either. Once you're at the top, you've seen it all, done it all, and there's nothing to do but help out those further down on the chain, because you just can't stop; it's your life.”
“So once you get to the top, you're doomed to wander the bottom?” Hale asks.
“Sometimes. Some people turn rogue, become corrupted, evil, and then the rest of the chain has to band together and break that link. Others leave to look for new adventures and are never heard from again. Anything could happen at that level.” I shrug, “But, enough on that. Let's get this thing up and head back to town.” As I say that, Hale gets a smug little grin, and I mentally slap myself as I realize I referred to Galley as an object again.
I pull on of the feathers out of the bundle and place it on Galley's chest. The warm feather pulses with the mana of the pheonix it was plucked from, and I touch it with my own mana, coaxing it out and letting it release into Galley's. The shock of mana hits him, and he jolt up, instantly on his feet.
“Whoa! What happened? Where's the dragon?!” He cries, flailing his limbs and looking around wildly.
“Dragon beat us, some guy came and helped, and we escaped.” I say, “And no, we are not going back after it!”
“But the manasabr--”
“I don't care!” I exclaim, “We're going to go back to Aelid, and you are going to reflect on your actions and how they got the party into trouble, am I clear?”
Galley sighs, “Okay...” He says reluctantly.
“Good.” I say, looking up at the sky. “Looks like it's a little after noon, we can warp now. Everybody ready?” I ask, and the other two nod, “All right.” I close my eyes, mentally focusing on the Aelid continent. “Warp.”
The desert heat and sounds of harsh wind fade away in favor of a cool breeze and gentle sunlight. I open my eyes to see the green plain I've teleported to, and Hale and galley appearing a moment later. “Now, let's go find something to eat. I prefer to be on the receiving end of food chain, rather than being eaten by a dragon.” I give Galley a sharp look as I say that.
“Food chain... Is that related to the chain of adventuring?” Hale asks, smirking.
“The what?” Galleuy says.
“And we're going in silence!” I bark.
Hale grins, “Then why are you shouting?”
“AAAGH!”
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Jan 09, 2015 1:06 pm

Hey guys... Uh, yeah. No chapter this week, sorry. I failed to prepare one in advance and I'm leaving for an overnight trip in, uh... three hours. And I have to pack. No writing time. Sorry. And the last time I tried to throw a chapter together in a few hours to post, we got... last week's. Sorry for that, too.

Anyways, I'm gonna take this week off and try and organize my thoughts and, hopefully, I'll be able to get back to it next week with some quality writing. Well, as quality as this stuff gets, at least.

Check back next week. I'll have something put together by then. Sorry again.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Mon Mar 09, 2015 5:17 pm

Hey...when is this gonna be a thing again?
I....have nothing to say.
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Thank you. Have a good day.
Ima go fangirl some more...
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby ClaecElric4God » Sun Mar 15, 2015 4:53 pm

Seconded.
He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? -Micah 6:8 KJV
They have shewed thee, O teen, what is good; and what doth the world require of thee, but to fit in, be wealthy, have good looks, and be rebellious? -Peer Pressure 1:1
"I hate milk; it's like drinking vomit." -Edward Elric and me. :fmed:
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ClaecElric4God in regards to Wolfsong - You're the coolness scraped off the top of this morning's ice cream, after being pulled out of a beautiful summer day!
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Dec 18, 2015 6:24 pm

Check back next week. I'll have something put together by then. Sorry again.



*clears throat* Hm, yes, well, that didn't happen. It's only been 11 months and some change since I posted here. That's not... THAT bad, right? Eh, better late than never. Anyways, a little while ago I had the thought I should probably wipe the dust off this thread and post something for the mild and passing amusement of people on the internet. That was before November, so you can see how on the ball I was there. Eh, it's me, what else would be expected? Anyways, the offerings I bring up now are those from Fine Arts THIS year, since they were pretty well received last time. I had four entries, which all took Merit (they were best in their class) at state level and went on to the national level. So... here! This one is my personal favorite, so I'll start off with it.



Flower's Garden



In the mouth of a dark alley on the man-made world of Garden, Flower held a flower.

The brittle, withered petals crumbled as Flower turned the bud in her synthetic, human-like hand. As the AI overseer of Garden, Flower protected and facilitated all life on the planet. And now, the final life had faded away.

The flower she held now had been the last surviving life form on Garden. When she realized it was fading, she walked across the surface of the planet to inspect it, and save it if she could. By the time she arrived, it was already dead and dry.

Life support, farming, and even the weather, Flower controlled everything on Garden, and she ran it all flawlessly. Despite her perfect administration, the entire human race had gone extinct centuries ago, and life on the planet had deteriorated up till this point.

Now that the world was barren and lifeless, Flower ceased maintaining it and fell back on her secondary task in such an occasion: Looking back throughout the logs of history on Garden and finding out what she had done wrong that led to this outcome. She watched the birth, life and death of the planet replay in her mind, and finished the task in a second. Finding nothing useful, she watched it again. And again. And again.

Seconds turned to centuries as she re-lived her whole history. Still, she could find no flaw. Finally, after so very long, her body collapsed under it's own constant weight and she fell flat on the ground. Finding herself staring down the alleyway before her, Flower saw writing on the far, dead-end wall.

“FLOWER is killing GARDEN!”

She recognized the writing. She had just seen it painted over thirty billion times, and as she thought about it, her memories were drawn to the moment it was written.

***

Montez Morence was an everyman by anyone's standards. On Garden, where an omniscient presence oversaw the whole planet, 'everyman' came to truly describe every man.

That morning, like every other, Morence looked at the news. But that day the reports he saw were disturbing. Mass hysteria had swept across the entire world overnight, and the population at large was in a state of panic.

As the story went, late the previous night, someone was out crossing a near-empty street, when they tripped and stepped out of the crosswalk. Flower had immediately judged the individual guilty of 'reckless endangerment of persons and property' and executed him on the spot. Then, rather than wait for Flower to clear the road herself, a concerned citizen attempted to move the body but was executed for the same crime as he, too, stepped out of the crosswalk.

Witnesses to the event were frightened, to say the least, and spread word about it. Skeptics denied and tested it, resulting in more deaths. On further experimentation, they found that any slight breach of conduct could be judged as a serious crime, and that Flower would execute the offender unquestioningly.

In one night, the public image of Flower shifted from benevolent overseer to tyrannical dictator.

Morence was shaken by the reports, yet continued his routine nonetheless and left for work. On the way, Morence saw bodies lining the streets and scattered protestors holding signs, stock-still, fearing for their lives. Morence did his best to ignore the macabre sight, and continued walking.

What he couldn't ignore, however, was the explosion that knocked him onto his back, unconscious.

Morence came to with a sharp pain in his side, and quickly realized that the entire right side of his torso had been shredded and burned by shrapnel. Slipping into a state of shock, Morence forced himself to his feet and looked around, seeing only the dead and dying littering the city all around him as chaos spread. He realized, then, the truth: People were rioting, mass panic swept the planet, and Flower did NOTHING. Just watched, and killed those who stepped out of line.

Numb and weak, Morence stumbled off the sidewalk into an alley, walking until he hit a dead-end wall. He was dripping blood, and his vision was going dark. But he couldn't die here, accomplishing nothing.

So Morence raised his blood-soaked hand and wrote a message on the wall, a warning to anyone who came after him. When he was done, Morence dropped his hand back to his side, and no sooner had he finished than he began choking, unable to draw a breath. Defacing of public property; penalty: Death. Flower had cut life support around him, and he knew there was nothing to do now but lie down, and...

***

Flower stood up and walked to the end of the alley to regard the message more closely, then looked down at the skeletal remains of the late criminal. Why had so many humans rebelled that day? She didn't understand, but knew it was key to unraveling the mystery of their extinction.

Perhaps if she could understand humans better, she would be able to piece the answer together. Flower looked through her databases at everything she knew about humans: their history, culture, psyche, anything.

While searching, Flower found two concepts that stood out: “grace” and “compassion.” Alien ideas to Flower; she had been programmed without them and clearly did not need them. And yet... the ability to forgive a wrongdoing was... an intriguing concept.

Flower decided that perhaps to understand humans, she had to feel emotions like they did, and began writing sub-routines in herself to emulate them. It was difficult, quantifying the nearly boundless reaches of the human mental state, and much of it equated to guesswork on her part. But, finally, once she had finished and activated the simulation modules, the entire world shifted in her eyes. She felt like, like... like she could feel.

Now genuinely eager to continue her research, Flower stepped outside the alleyway and saw the world of Garden... and was utterly horrified.

Flower sunk to her knees, unable to bear the sight that met her; the destruction of a thousand years past, untouched by time, staring back at her.

“I did this.” She said, despair heavy in her voice. “I did... I killed them...” She raised her hands over her face, trying, but failing to cover her eyes. Even now, she was still Flower; omniscient in Garden: She could still see every inch of the devastation and death she had wrought.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...” Flower spoke the only thing she could think as her body, incapable of tears, was wracked with dry sobs. How had she been so blind? So heartless? SHE was the reason for humanity's extinction, and hadn't even noticed. Now, instead of grace, she felt crushing sorrow, and with no one to be compassionate toward, she instead had regret at stealing their precious lives.

“One more... just one more time.” Now that she possessed human emotions, she would watch the history of Garden, from the beginning to the end, one more time. Alongside the humans of the past, she would laugh, she would cry. For the first time, even if just for a second, she would live.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Sat Dec 26, 2015 3:39 pm

Christmas was yesterday. Received many books. Didn't post. Deal with it.

Like with Search for Completion up there, this is the first chapter of a non-existing book. Under the chapter, there's a summary of said book, which I've spoilered because... reasons. Meh.



We, the Heroes: The Story of Us




What would you do if you suddenly found you could shoot lightning from your hand? Or crush a car with a swipe of your arm? Or hack people's brains, influencing their emotions, thoughts, and even memories?

I'm curious to hear what you would do in that situation, because that was our reality.


It happened back in our junior year of high school. We were just kids, living our lives as well as we could. I was the school's star gymnast, and I have to say, I was pretty stinking awesome. I was–and am–Jess Limestar. See, it's right there in the name: Star. Right after... Lime. Well, it wouldn't be fair if I had ALL the luck, right? I was the biggest thing to hit our school since the tornado back in '95. I was the most adored girl in the school, but also the most hated. Lots of people were jealous of my crazy great talents, you know? I didn't mind too much, though; just learned to ignore those people.

Anyways, enough about me for now. The second member of our trio was this silly kid named Colby. Colby was a bit of an awkward nerd type, honestly. He was small, shy, quiet, and SUPER nerdy; he even played those silly board games, the ones with dice and little figures. But I liked him; he was a nice kid to be around, just really quiet.

Remember when I said I got a lot of hate? Well, I think ninety-five percent of it came from our third member: Bennie Conrad. Oooh man, doesn't that name just make you want to hit him in the face? Now, to preface this, Bennie and I used to be best friends. When we were kids, we were inseparable playmates; always together. Then about halfway through middle school, we just kinda drifted apart. I don't know why, or how it started, but by the time high school rolled around we hated each other.

We were an awkward group, for sure. Bennie and I would be taking shots at each other, and Colby would just hang back and not say a word the whole time. Fortunately, once we became superheroes, we had something in common.

We had the best secret base ever, too. Batcave? Too dark. Fortress of Solitude? Cold much? Stark Tower? Hardly a secret. Our base? Our mega-secret, super-awesome hideout? An overgrown freight car on an abandoned railroad in the woods. You can laugh, but it was dry, it was roomy, and whoever used it before us left floodlights and a TV there. Since we already had a power source, we decided it was the perfect hideout.

“Hey, Jess? The lights are flickering again.” Colby said over the noise of the TV on the other side of the car. He was reading some book–a Bible, actually. Keep that in mind; it'll be important later. With the giant steel doors almost entirely shut, even in the middle of the day his only feasible light source was the floodlights strung up around the boxcar.

I set my hair brush down in the chair next to me and grabbed an end of the jumper cables hooked up to the car battery we had running the electricity in here. After I held the cables for a few seconds, the lights quit their flickering and got noticeably brighter.

“That's good, thank you.” Colby said.

“Mm-hm.” I grunted through closed lips holding my bobby pins as I went back to brushing. You know what the worst part about being a human generator and conductor of electricity is? Your hair gets messed up. Seriously, I had to re-do my hair every couple of hours, at best, or it would all just start standing up on end.

“Come on, GET HIM!!” Bennie's shouting filled the boxcar suddenly as he stood up out of his chair and yelled at the TV, as if the football players on the other side could hear him. “What?! Seriously?! What was that?!” The twit continued, dropping back into his chair.

“Keep yelling, Bennie.” I said carefully, holding the bobby pins with my teeth, “You gotta let 'em know how disappointed you are after you worked so hard for them.” I caught his eye in the mirror as he turned around to glare at me.

“If I wanted to, I could just march right onto that field and have coaches begging me to join, I'll have you know.” He bragged, then turned back to watch the game, “I could charge through a whole line of these guys without breaking a sweat. They'd be lucky to get the time of day from me!”

“Bennie, I think using superpowers in football is cheating.” Colby commented cautiously, not wanting to be caught in the crossfire of one of our sniping bouts. “You tossed a car twenty feet in the scrapyard last week; you're stronger than an ox now.”

“Both in strength, and odor.” I said as I took the last pin out of my mouth and put it through my hair. Bennie turned to glare at me again, and Colby hid his face in his book to stifle a grin. I smiled at Bennie through the mirror, “Ox has got ya beat in looks, though.” I added.

Bennie's glare turned harsher, and the can of soda in his hand crumpled, spraying some of the drink off to the side. Before he could get a good retort, I spoke up again.

“And besides, we're supposed to have the TV set to the news.” I turned around to face him and crossed my arms, “We're looking out for ongoing crime, remember? We're not here to watch sweaty dudes duke it out for a misshapen ball.”

“I know, I know; I'm switching over during commercial breaks.” Bennie said, dismissing my complaints with a wave of his hand.

“Um... Bennie? It's on a commercial now.” Colby pointed out, looking over the jacket of his book.

Bennie looked back at the TV, “And so it is.” He said, reaching over and switching channels.

“...Robbery still underway at local jewelry store, 'Diamond in the Rough.'” The newsman on the TV told us, “The suspects are considered armed and dangerous, and a number of hostages have been taken, both employees and customers...”

“Dang it, Bennie, we almost missed that!” I exclaimed as we all jumped into action. I grabbed an overlarge baseball cap and hoodie and pulled them on over my regular clothes, hiding my face and figure with them. Colby replaced his book with a paper bag with eye holes cut in it, and Bennie donned a painted hockey mask.

“OK, yeah, but we didn't.” The moron replied as he pushed the giant steel door open with the greatest of ease. “Now quit whining and hurry it up; it's a long way to the store.”

***

You ever have a moment in your life where you get done, look back on it, and think, “Man, I wish I could watch that happen again!” This was one of those for me. Unfortunately, the jewelry store's camera's had been cut, so there was no recording of what I'm about to describe.

“You're sure you can get this in one shot? We gotta get them by surprise.” I reminded Bennie, who was rolling a pair of foam earplugs to fit in his ears.

“Listen, I'll do my part, you just worry about you, OK? We cool?” He said. I rolled my eyes, then looked down at my buzzing phone, showing a new text from Colby.

I glanced at the text, then looked at Bennie. “You're clear.” I told him, and he inserted his earplugs, put an arm up in front of him and charged through the store wall in an explosion of rubble and dust. I jumped through the gap after him, quickly surveying the situation.

There were four robbers in the store; two filling a bag by the counter, one by the door, and one in the corner with the hostages. Colby, outside, had mind-hacked the latter to drop his gun and ignore our attack, so the other three were all ours.

Bennie continued his charge through the counter and got a direct hit on one of the crooks, carrying him to the other end of the store. I jumped over the remains of the counter and did a sweet aerial kick to knock down the other guy. Then, before anyone could react, I raised my hand, crackling and snapping with electric power, covered an ear, and snapped my super-charged fingers.

Have you ever been in the same room as a lightning bolt when it struck the ground? I didn't think so. You know how sometimes, in a thunderstorm, you get those cracking bolts that, even miles and miles away, are just way crazy loud? I promise you, it's a LOT louder if you're standing twelve feet away when that sound goes off. I know, because the guy standing guard over the hostages fell right to the ground with ruptured eardrums when I went all Thor on that place.

So, one crook was incapacitated from the noise, another was dazed, Bennie was slugging the third one, but the one I had knocked down still had some fight in him. He grabbed me and threw me onto my back, then flipped over and started trying to pin me down and take me out. Cue a brief wrestling bout, after which I broke free, sprung onto my feet, and switched from Thor to Emperor Palpatine–but a lot prettier–as I lit the crook up with a blast of electricity. He stayed on the ground, twitching.

With him dealt with, I whirled around to face the last guy, who had surely recovered from the thunderclap, only to be greeted by the barrel of a gun. “Now you stop right there.” The crook said, and I slowly raised my hands in surrender.

Instead of shooting, the crook froze in place, his expression contorting to something unpleasant and unreadable. He began to shake, grunt, and then he dropped his gun and walked away, clucking like a chicken.

I grinned at Colby as he stepped forward, and we high-fived each other. “A chicken? Nice.” I said, and he beamed at the compliment.

“Freeze! Everybody down!” I looked past Colby at the police outside, who were now rushing to our position.

“Uh-oh. Bennie, time to go!” I called, propelling Colby toward our entry hole and waving Bennie over. The brute ran past me and I followed him out. The three of us ran down the alley, away from the cops, back to our hideout, laughing and cheering with adrenaline all the while.





-Summary-


SPOILER: Highlight text to read: Three high-schoolers inexplicably develop superpowers and use them to fight crime in their city. Soon, a villain called “The Dream” challenges the trio and defeats them. The heroes realize that they need to develop their powers and their teamwork to stop The Dream, giving up their own selfishness, pride and unforgivingness as they do.

In a second fight, the trio defeat The Dream, and he reveals himself to be an inventor and scientist with a superhero-loving, terminally ill daughter. The Dream gave the three kids superpowers and became a villain himself in order to create a real-life superhero story and bring his daughter's dreams to life.

The heroes devise a plan to help The Dream, and pretend to go rogue, forcing The Dream to intervene and stop them, becoming a hero to his daughter. Afterward, the trio go back to living normal lives, having improved themselves through their experiences.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Tue Jan 05, 2016 4:13 pm

Bleh. New Years. Done with this nonsense. It's a good thing I didn't make a resolution to be on time posting in here, 'cuz I would've broke than already.

Anyways, this piece's a bit different; it's a First Person Essay. Basically I just had to write an essay on events of my life and somehow put a Christian message in there. So unfortunately, no robots, superpowers or super-tense action here. So yeah... Here ya go.




Grace Abounding




Right, First Person Essay. Essay, in the first person. A telling of events based on those that happened in my own life. I could fill pages and pages recounting my great deeds slaying dragons and finding legendary treasures, but I have a strict word count and the ending to any of those tales would just be “And then I turned off the computer and went to bed.” Perhaps I could write about an archery tournament? Oh, but the message of “aiming small and hitting your target” is so cliched in the ministry anymore.

How about the time I lost my glasses? That sounds exciting.


It was the summer of 2013. I think. June, July, something like that, I dunno. That was a good summer. Why? Because, as opposed to the usual blistering heat of Kansas summers, it rained ALL SEASON LONG that year.

The place? Oklahoma. Stories from Oklahoma always go great, right? Sure. So, it was at a big ol' lake somewhere in backwater Oklahoma, and we were there for the annual youth group canoe trip. This setup is just getting better and better, isn't it?

Anyway, we get there, check in at the welcome center, set up camp, and go to bed; eager to start our adventures on the river the next day. I was in my own personal, two-man tent, mind you. Because it was handy and anyone who willingly sleeps with a bunch of noisy, rowdy, smelly teenage boys is a fool.

Soon, the day of boating comes, and everybody's excited. Me, I don't think I'd hardly ever been on a boat before except the paddle ones at camp, and calling those things 'boats' is a stretch in the first place.

So there I am, in my stupid life jacket, holding a bag of trail mix in one hand and a gallon of water in the other. Nobody said to pack light. It was difficult, but I promise you this: by the time we reached the far side of the shore, despite many close calls, not one peanut from that bag had been touched by a drop of water. That has nothing to do with the story, just wanted to say it.

OK, now we're in the boats, getting adjusted to working the paddles, all that. We haven't been on the water for five minutes before our leader calls back, “OK, pull over by this rock!” Apparently, the returning veterans of this course remembered a few places of note on the river, and decided we would stop to take leaps off of some of the particularly big rocks. So, we pull our boats over and climb out onto land.

First guy jumps, and I wonder just why we're doing something so dangerous. I can SEE rocks not two feet from where these guys are landing. Second guy goes, and I just think about how stupid this is. Leader asks who wants to go next, and I have a snap decision to make. I'm not stupid; I knew those rocks would cut me to ribbons if I hit, I knew the water was freezing cold, and I knew something was bound to go wrong.

Something else I am not, however, is a pansy. So I volunteered to go next.

I had been in the air for about 0.7 seconds and was already descending before I realized I had my glasses, which were loose and in need of a fitting, precariously placed on my nose. Remember when I said I'm not stupid? You'll notice that was in the present tense, and this was a while ago.

Y'know what the really silly thing I did there was? After I came up and realized, surprise surprise, my glasses had been swept away, I actually swam around looking for them. I asked the group if anyone had noticed them floating by. Nope! Those suckers were GONE.

Now, I have 20/30 vision, which really isn't that bad. What I REALLY missed, that sunny day on the calm, reflective lake, were my nice transition lenses that shielded my poor eyes from the vicious rays of the sun. But the real problem? The reason I was so desperate to find my multi-hundred dollar glasses, and for the knot of dread in my stomach when I realized I would never see them–or with them, haha–again?

I had to tell my PARENTS.

I bet you all just smirked, didn't you?

Now, I was smart enough to leave my phone back at the camp, as was everyone else, so there was a valid excuse not to call them right away. We just kept on rowing, floating, paddling, canoe-wrestling, tree-fighting, and generally moving forward through all manner of environmental hazards. Overall, I'd say 8 out of 10; would sunburn on a river again.

So, we finish our intense trip down the river, and get back to camp, where I'm faced with a choice: Call my parents and report my loss immediately, or deal with the, as it was once described, “unholy labyrinth of tangles that may never be the same” that I once called my hair.

Unfortunately, I am a responsible individual and knew that I had to call my parents right away and tell them I lost my vital, expensive vision enhancer.

“Hello?” My mom answered the phone, which I was really hoping she would NOT do that one particular time.

“Hey.” I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could. The calmer I was, the softer the blow would be, to both of us. “I have a bit of a problem.”

“OK... What's up?”

“Well... I lost my glasses. In the river.”

I winced and cringed, waiting for the inevitable shouting, scolding, or at least disappointment to flood through my phone's speaker. Instead, there was just a long pause.

“All right, we'll take you in for a replacement pair once you get back.” My mom said, sounding very level and understanding.

“OK, see you then.” With that, we said our goodbyes, hung up, and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Well, I had survived that, and felt much better with that weight off my chest.

The rest of the trip proceeded normally; we broke camp the next day, headed home, and in about a week I had a new pair of glasses.

The understanding and forgiveness of my parents was surprising to me, really. I had expected them to be upset, to read me the riot act, maybe even to make me pay for the glasses myself. (In which case, joke's on them–I was BROKE!) But instead they were very calm about the whole thing. They knew how easily glasses could get lost or broken, and extended some very welcome grace toward me.

That reminds me of someone else with a lot of mercy and grace, good friend of mine. Maybe you know Him?


As a bonus, once I got the new glasses, I went from “I once was blind” to “now I see.” There, that one's a freebie.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Thu Jan 07, 2016 11:21 am

Oddood198 wrote:
Check back next week. I'll have something put together by then. Sorry again.



*clears throat* Hm, yes, well, that didn't happen. It's only been 11 months and some change since I posted here. That's not... THAT bad, right?


I dunno, on the one hand I'd love to just tease you to death on this, but on the other, we both know my track record so I'll let you off with a "Don't do that again!"

Anyhoo, these are all pretty good, I'm looking forward to more from you.
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Oddood198 » Fri Jan 08, 2016 12:20 pm

Huh. So somebody does still read this thing? Weird.

Well, I've got something special this week. And by "special" I mean "run now, you may escape." This next piece is my Mini Saga, a new category in Fine Arts where you have to write a story in exactly 50 words. No more. No less. Fifty. I tend to write long, so I figured, "Ha, no way." But my parents said it would be a good experience and all but forced me to write this. It got perfect scores at district and won at nationals, so... Go figure.



After God's Own Heart, Indeed



David and his men, out of supplies, were starving. Desperate, they ate the consecrated bread from the Tabernacle, lawful only for priests. While they ate, the priests came, rebuking them, and David responded, “Shut up, we're starving!” The priests asked God to help, and God answered, “Shut up, they're starving!”




And since that was kinda short... Here's something else, before my better judgement kicks in.



That day was a calm, peaceful day like any other in Feylake. It was a small village, with small stores and a score of houses built around a proud, if ancient and somewhat small, castle. The castle, Castle Fey, had been here since before anyone remembered, and nobody was quite sure where it came from, but a little town formed around it right away, and it stayed a little town, where nothing ever seemed to change.
West, to the rear of Castle Fey, as the founding fortress of the settlement was called, was a long forest, dark and dangerous as they came. Guards were stationed on the border of the forest at all times to guard against the monsters and shady organizations that made their nests there. A giant spider or two got through from time to time, but some retired, veteran adventurers living in the town always took care of them before they became a nuisance.
On the north side of the castle, built against the walls, was the bulk of the village. What were once temporary, ramshackle huts had grown into wood and timber buildings, not as fancy as some structures in the big cities, but very comfortable for the sleepy little village. Beyond the residential area, there lay vast farmlands, where men worked the fields tirelessly to provide food for the village, and all the surplus they could to trade with the merchants that passed through Feylake on business.
South of the castle one could follow the road to the village's cemetery, a small, quiet part of the town that didn't need very much regular use, but was given a very creepy atmosphere due to the dark, dangerous swamp that lay just beside it. The creatures of the swamp were mostly very reclusive, staying in their dank holes and nests, but they occasionally troubled those headed to the mines deep in the swamp. A tall, iron fence stood between the swamp and Feylake to keep the more adventurous occupants out – on both sides.
And to the East of the castle, out the front gate, was a river that ran right beside Feylake, giving clean, sweet water to the residents. Across the river were the torched, burned out remains of buildings that had once stood tall and proud, but that entire side of the river had been overrun by goblins long ago, and Feylake had been cut in half as a result. The goblins that lived there now were mostly content to leave the human village alone, and the humans, for their part, didn't give the goblins any reason to act out against them. The Duke of Feylake, Horintor, had drawn plans and rallied troops on several occasions to exterminate the goblins and reclaim their lost territory, but in the end action was never taken, and the standstill continued.

But that would all change today. Because today would be the day that I became an adventurer, and beat all the goblins away before leaving this tiny village forever.

That day, I was standing in the courtyard of Castle Fey, scratching a stick against the tall, stone walls with all of my might and energy. It wasn't that I had anything in particular against that wall; it had never wronged me in any way that I could recall, it was just that I had found a perfect little spot in the wall where two small stone studs jutted out, and I realized it was perfect for sharpening this stick into a proper weapon.
I dragged the stick down against the two little bumps in the wall, scraping off a little more bark and excess wood each time. Slowly, very slowly, it took the narrowed shape of a real sword. I stood there for hours probably, dragging that stick between the little bumps again and again, working tirelessly until I was satisfied with the result. The stick was about as long as my arm, and it was narrowed down to a thin shaft, perfect for cutting goblins with.
Admiring my craftsmanship with the weapon, I clenched it tightly in my little hands and ran off to gather the rest of my equipment. Now that I was ready, there was no point in waiting any longer to take action.
I ran behind the general store and went digging in the bushes, pulling out the gear I had hidden there, one piece after another. I had knee and elbow pads made of tall, tough grass I had woven together, then ran sticks through for extra strength and protection. I had a similar piece for a breastplate, but I put pebbles through there, because it had to be really strong. A mismatched pair of old, tough boots I caught while fishing, a cooking pot with a chin strap for my helmet, and the lid to that pot on my arm completed the suit of armor.
Once I had donned my equipment, picked up my sword, made sure to stuff an apple in my pocket for later, and marched myself to to the bridge to cross the river, ready to fight some goblins.

The guard standing by the bridge spots me approaching and stops me. “Halt...” He pauses, looking me up and down, then shaking his head. “Kid, what are you doing here?”
“I'm gonna go and fight the goblins!” I exclaimed proudly, brandishing my wooden sword in the air to prove it. “Move aside! I'm gonna kill them all, and then go on a hundred adventures!”
“No. It's dangerous. Go back home before you hurt yourself.” The guard said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at me.
I could barely believe it. Why was he stopping me? Couldn't he see I was about to do the whole village a favor? I lowered my sword, pointing the tip of it up at his face. “Fine, if you won't move, then I'll just have to--”
before I could finish my declaration of combat, the guard snatched the sword out of my hands, snapped it over his knee, and tossed the pieces off the bridge to be carried away by the river. I stared in surprise at the pieces of driftwood floating away, then growled and lunged at the guard, swinging my fists wildly. “Why, you traitor! I see what's going on! You're working for the goblins and trying to keep me away from them! But it won't work, I'll shove you right off this bridge and beat them all with my bare hands!” I shouted, throwing punch after punch at the guard.
The target of my wrath, for his part, held me back with a single hand placed on my pot helm, and my crazed punches hit nothing but air. He kept me at arm's length until I got tired and ran out of breath, then he turned my around and gave me a light kick on the behind to move me. “Go back home, kid. And don't let me see you trying to cross this bridge again.”
I took a few stumbling steps, propelled by his kick, before managing to come to a stop. It seemed I had no choice but to accept defeat this time. I looked back and stuck my tongue out at the guardsman before running back to the store to hide my armor in the bushes while I planned my next move.

I had lived in this tiny village for my entire life. A little settlement like this didn't have a lot of children, so I had few friends, and spent most of my time either hearing stories and legends about great heroes, or playing make-believe and pretending to be one of them. It was my dream to leave this town and make a name for myself, just like the heroes of old.
To make that dream come true, I had done everything imaginable to prepare my body and mind to become a great warrior. I peeked over the walls to see the guards train every week, and sometimes I watched the blacksmith work, too, in case I had to make my own weapons. I used a stick -not a sharpened one like I made earlier; those were too dangerous- to practice fighting on trees, and I even won most of the time. I even started doing pushups,because I heard the captain of the guard say it was good for building your strength. I could to ten pushups at once, now!
But it still wasn't enough. I knew I could slay all those goblins and reclaim the lost half of our village if I could get over there, but I had to fight past the traitorous guard first. And for that, I needed a plan.
I sat on the riverbed, watching the water flow past while I thought about ways to get rid of that guard. Just attacking him wouldn't work, because nobody else knew he was on the goblins' side, so if someone saw, I'd just get in trouble. I thought about poisoning his food, but I didn't know which grass was the most poisonous around here. I might have been able to knock him out from behind, but the only was to get behind him was to get on the bridge, and I couldn't do that while he was there.

I was so immersed in my plotting that I didn't realize I had company. The girl's head swam into my vision from the side, and I almost fell over from the surprise of it. “Wah!” I cried as I stuck my arms back in the grass to catch myself. The girl looked almost as surprised for a second, then she grinned in apparent delight.
“Hey, what's the big idea! Don't just sneak up on me like that!” I shouted.
“But I didn't. I walked over and sat next to you.” The girl said, “You didn't move,so I thought you were asleep. Guess not!”
I huffed as I scooted back, putting a bit of space between me and the girl -girls were icky! No way I wanted to sit next to one- while I watched her. She was slender and tall, maybe even taller than me. She had a black skirt and a long white tunic on, and pink hair that fell freely behind her. She had a soft smile on her face, but it looked like a glimmer of mischief hid in her eyes.
“What are you doing alone here?” She asked, rising to her feet and looking down at me. A cool breeze came and swayed her long hair slightly.
I crossed my arms, letting out a strong 'harrumph.' “I'm making plans to become an adventurer, for your information. I'm gonna be the greatest hero ever.”
The girl clasped her hands together in front of her face, smiling widely. “Ooh, that sounds so exciting! How are you going to do it?”
“Well, duh! I'm gonna start by driving out all the goblins across the river, then I'm gonna leave this boring little town forever and go on big adventures.”
“Oh, I see. So when are you going to start?”
“I already did!” I say proudly, puffing out my chest. “I went over to start fighting the goblins, but... the guard didn't let me through. He even broke my sword!” I looked around to make sure no one was around to overhear, then whispered loudly, “He's actually working for the goblins.”
The girl's eyes widened and she nodded, looking around as well before slowly stepping closer to me. “So, what are you going to do next?”
I crossed my arms thoughtfully. I had been wondering the same thing before she showed up, but still hadn't found an answer. “I guess I need a sword first.” I finally said, “Then I need a way to get rid of that traitor guarding the bridge.”
The girl joined her hands behind her back and smiled, “I think I can help with both problems.” She said. I couldn't help the huge grin that spread over my face. The girl reached her pale white hand to me, “Follow me.”
I grabbed her hand without a second thought, and she pulled me up to my feet. My suspicions of her being taller were true; with both of us on our feet, I was looking her right in the nose. She led my up the riverbank onto the cobblestone road that led from the castle in all directions, and turned south; toward the graveyard, and the swamp beyond.
I was a little anxious as we approached the grim and silent graveyard, but I was a tough adventurer, so I wasn't actually scared. Even though the dangerous, fenced-off swamp that was trapped in eternal darkness by the thick, heavy trees that hung over it was just on the other side of the graveyard, I didn't mind a bit.
A crow cried and burst out from the grass beside us, and I almost jumped out of my skin. But I didn't. Because I was brave. I could see the pink haired girl smiling as she pretended not to notice.
She led the way into the cemetery, past rows of gravestones to an ominous, crumbling mausoleum. She gestured for me to take the lead and pointed at the heavy stone door. “Go ahead and open it.” She said.
I stepped forward and examined the door. It was really big, and had a creepy face carved into the middle of it. I could barely reach the handle to open it. I shoved with all my strength, my feet sliding through the loose dirt as I was pushed back instead of the stone door.
The girl was smirking in amusement again, so I squared my shoulders, puffed out my chest, and rammed into the door with all the force I could muster. It didn't budge, but I was shaken to the core. I tried it twice more before giving up. “It's no good! The stupid thing is stuck!” I exclaimed.
“I know.” The girl said, tapping her knuckle on the side of the stone structure. “We have to come in through here.”
I glared at her as she giggled, then ducked down and crawled through a dark, dusty hole full of cobwebs into the mausoleum, then I grudgingly followed. On the other side, the girl was brushing cobwebs and dust out of her face, but not bothering to pull them out of her hair or clothes. That was weird; I thought girls were allergic to dirt and stuff.
The small room inside had a single sarcophagus in the middle that I could barely make out in the darkness. While I was trying to stare at the centerpiece of the room, a light flickered on and I looked up t see the girl holding a candle. “This way.”
She brought me to the corner of the room, dragging her foot through the dust that had built up. Underneath, I could see solid wood, and a moment later, she uncovered a handle. “A secret room!” I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement. It was like something out of a real adventure!
The girl nodded, setting the candle down to the side. “Help me open it.” She said.
Unlike the heavy stone door outside, this one moved, but only barely. Between the two of us pulling with all our might, we finally managed to flip the trapdoor open, and the girl grabbed a candle stand to hold it while we climbed down under the hidden entrance.
The room was barely lit by the girl's candle at first, but after a moment the light spread and brightened the whole room. Crates and barrels were stacked against the walls, and a rat scurried as we walked further in, but what got my attention was--
“Swords!” I cried, darting to the far side of the room, where four swords were held up on a rack by the wall. These weren't wooden swords like the one I had earlier, they were made of real iron, even if they were a bit rusty, and not as shiny as swords usually seemed.
Beside the swords a suit of armor stood on a tall post, easily twice my height and, as it proved quite quickly, too difficult to move. I looked back at the girl with a grin on my face, unable to hold in my joy at these findings any longer. This was all I needed to start my adventure! “This is amazing! How did you know about this place?”
The girl held a finger over her lips and winked. “It's a secret.” She said, setting the candle on a crate and walking closer to me. “But don't you think you should wait before you go attacking the goblins? It could be dangerous, you know.”
“I know! But I'll be fine! I'm going to be a real hero, after all, so little goblins like them don't scare me a bit!” I said, indignant as I puffed out my chest. “I'm gonna take one of these swords, or even two of them! I'll run right across the river and, wh-whoa, whoooa!” I grabbed a sword off the rack and lifted it half way into the air, but it was heavier than I expected and I ended up following it a few steps to keep from falling over. The girl rushed to my side and grabbed the hilt of the sword, helping to steady it, and we carried it back to the rack and put it back up with the others.
We both sighed after that little scare, and the girl smiled. “Are you sure you're ready to go just yet? Starting an adventure is a big deal, after all. You should make sure you can hold a sword first.”
It was a good thing the room was still so dim, even with the candle, so the girl couldn't see me turning red from embarrassment. “Well, I, maybe... Could just try again...” I mumbled, abashed.
“Mm-hmm.” The girl lifted herself up onto a barrel and began kicking her feet. “Maybe I could help you get started. I'll help you get across the river, and in return, you can take me with you on some of your adventures.”
“Ew, nooo. I don't wanna take a girl!” I cried. I knew as well as anyone, girls were icky, gross, and liable to give you cooties. I didn't want one of them following me around while I was trying to be a hero.
“But look at all the stories. Don't all the best heroes keep a pretty girl around with them?” She crossed her arms and turned her nose up. “In fact, you should be asking me to come along with you. I'm just being generous.”
I groaned, trying to think of something to say to argue, but finding nothing. It was true; all the great stories of heroes and adventurers did have a girl following them around, or even being part of the legend themselves. “Fiiine.” I relented at last, and the girl smiled, unfolding her arms and kicking herself off the crate.
“Good. Now, leaving town might be too much for us right now, but I have some ideas. Follow me, and we'll be ready to go in no time.” The girl said, holding her hand out again. “Now that we're partners, I should know, what's your name?”
I reluctantly reached out and took her hand, and she shook energetically. “Bod.” I said sullenly, still a bit disappointed at having to have a girl follow me on my adventures. “It's Bod Oam.”
“Bod Oam.” The girl repeated. “I think we'll be very good friends, Bod. My name is Noel.”




Misadventures of the Unusuals

Chapter Negative, the First: The Boy, the Goddess, and the Beginning
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Re: The Odd Writings

Postby Wolfsong » Fri Jan 08, 2016 2:56 pm

oooooh yes!!! So his issues with icky girls started much sooner xD Can't wait for more!
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