I Am Merely An ArtistI Am Merely An ArtistI Am Merely An Artist19 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My breath is jagged, but I choose to continue. My thoughts are jumbled as I continue to run down the road that ends with my old house. My leather bag heavy against my side from the stolen goods and adrenaline is coursing through my veins. My clothes were in tatters from the years of not buying clothes. “I am merely an artist,” I keep reminding myself. I am faithful to my work and will always be. I work like a robber, sly in my movements, quick to avoid the law, and making sure nobody remembers who I am and was. What I do for a living is steal treasure and give those jewels to the younger generation of brainwashed materialistic humans. But, what I do, is seem as wrong. To society, I am just a thief in the night that steals.
I am on my last leg. Age has finally caught up with my rotting body, and I fear the worse for my life. Soon the law will have my head, and I will be simply but an example of some anima
F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 64==Lap 64=F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 641 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Earl was laying in his bed with a smile on his face, as he had been having a good dream. The night had passed, Chiya and Earl had finally gotten to sleep after such a traumatic night of action and discoveries. Earl felt that he had a load off his shoulders now that his companions knew that he indeed was making money, however, he still wasn’t telling the whole truth about his income…
The race on Green Plant was in one day, they could do one of two things; firstly, they could leave immediately and spend a day there. The other option was simply to wait until the last day then fly there, and return to Mute City on the same day. The group all mutually agreed to do the second option, seeing no reason to stay away from the base--especially since Green Plant for the most part was a wasteland of plant life. Seppuku decided that they would all come together and form a new plan to ensure that Chiya and Seppuku raced well--this was basically Chiya’s last chance. While
F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 62F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 624 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
“It’s so cold…”
Chiya was very silently walking with her companions down the first set of hallways—they were inside the Winged Gazelle. Chiya’s fingers were tightly wrapped around the barrel of her assault rifle, though Chiya would likely not be of any help if combat occurred, as she couldn’t control the recoil of the rifle like Seppuku and Earl. Earl looked back at Chiya and nodded, she was shivering greatly—mainly because she was wearing her shorts and sleeveless shirt.
“Of course it is, Mighty Gazelle doesn’t have skin. He really has no reason to pay for a heating unit,” Earl finally responded.
Seppuku held his hand out towards them and grinded his teeth, “Be more quiet you idiots, I don’t think we’re in any actual danger, but anything could happen,” he held his rifle more firmly and quirked his mouth, “So hush up.”
Chiya and Earl both nodded at his request. Not on
DockingHe'd thought the Mystique huge when he'd first seen her. That seemed foolish now. The space he now found himself in - Dock 5, he reminded himself; there were at least four more like this - was simply immense. Mighty leviathans the size of whole towns were dwarfed in the cavernous expanse, waiting patiently while docking instructions were relayed to navigation computers. It seemed strange to think that this looked larger than anything he'd ever seen. After all, the sky he'd looked at every day back home had been infinite. Somehow, though, confining the space within walls of metal, reinforced plascrete and crysteel just made it look bigger.Docking6 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Even the noise was more intense than he'd ever imagined was possible. Well, not noise as such - the vacuum of the dockspace carried no sound - but the vibrations of hundreds of tethered titans transmitted through the very structure of the station and added up to a shuddering growl that seemed to emanate from everywhere, like the murmured conversation
365 Days of Drabbles, Day 212 + 213“A contest for mad architects”365 Days of Drabbles, Day 212 + 2133 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Note: Yeah I said no fanfic requests. I reserve the right to be inconsistent.
* * *
Third Annual Dono Vorrutyer Memorial Architecture Competition
“Aral, are you all right?” Cordelia asked with concern. Her husband the Lord Regent was standing in front of the model apartment building, one of two dozen on display in the University of Vorbarr Sultana's commencement hall, his head cocked at a sharp angle as he followed the spiral from the base of the building to the... she thought it might be a vertical launch tower at the top, but it was hard to tell.
“I think I've looked at too many of these,” he admitted. “This one almost makes sense.”
“I thought the art museum design with all the plumbing mounted outside was rather clever,” she noted.
“But not practical for maintenance purposes. The whole point behind Vorrutyer's designs was that while they might have been insane to an
The Logbook - Log_042The whole event from ealier:The Logbook - Log_0425 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
We were walking for a while until we found a wall covered in vines full of glowing fruits. The fruits (which looked like grapes) had the same effect as the glowing meadow of dandelions I saw way back, they stopped to glow after picking them, but luckily they didn't wither. We were enjoying the taste, when a flash of light distracted us. There was the group of white furballs again, playing with my camera! Zoss decided to take it back for me and he started to chase them. They were so fast I couldn't keep their pace and I lost them short after. When I was catching my breath, they suddenly came back, the furballs passing me in a hurry when I saw Zoss running away from the giant snake! "Move!" He said and pushed me to the side when they were close, but because of that, the snake bite Zoss arm and dragged him away. It happened so fast I couldn't react, petrified. But then Zoss used the camera he retrieved and used the flashlight to partia
BiomechRight leg: sweep, right hand: hold. Apply fifteen pounds per square inch of pressure. Increase gradually.Biomech5 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My opponent was on his back in mere seconds. My right hand had a vise-like, firm grip on his air way and was well prepared to tighten. I shifted my weight to sturdy my hold on his abdomen and legs.
Left hook at center right jaw. Double standard speed.
He tried feebly to block my punch but he wasn't used to tracking any movements that so much as resembled mine. After all, I had just been updated a few days ago. I felt bad for the poor grunt underneath me. He never had a chance.
Right hold: increase pressure at higher rate. Close airway.
The restraints that had been placed in my eardrums screeched defiantly.
"That's enough Jackson. No fatalities at this testing facility", chimed the gruff voice that had been inplanted not too long ago. I sighed angrily.
"You're the one that gave me the chip that tells me what to do," I exclaimed while looking up to the enclosed observation nes
Frontier Colossus“We wuz expectin’ someone taller.”Frontier Colossus6 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Every rapin’ time, I get this. Seems that badass, galaxy-roamin’ lawgivers are meant to be at least six-foot tall and dressed like Wyatt Twerp over a build like Schwarzin-whateva. Me? I’m five-foot nuthin’ and three-foot six ‘cross the shoulders. My world don’t like gangly types. Heavy grav and storm systems fit to break a man and his all-terrain toys. We walked and wrangled our gear on Duressangs, the meanest omnivores ever lived. But they were the only thing bigger than a roach that was stubborn enough to exist on my homeworld. It made me tough. Like rocks an’ wolverines.
You could say I have issues. My mama calls it “down-home flavour” and my gal calls it “ooo baby”. My papa, devil take him, called it “spit ‘n’ grit”. Whateva. It got me through Engineer College, then Lawgiver ‘Cademy and got me into the arms of the gal all them taller t
Sane "Next, please." The voice from the speakers was tired and worn-out, like he had said the words so many times it stopped having a meaning. There was one man before me, unable to move. His hair was brown and greasy, his limbs short and thick and his hands shaking. Somewhere inside his mind, he was probably screaming for his body to move, but nothing happened. He looked around him quickly, catching the gaze of two angry guards. Their uniforms were grey. Grey like dust. Ash. Death.Sane4 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Next. Please." The man was still glued to the ground. I wanted to shake him back to his senses, but that would be seen as assault. So I was forced to simply stand and watch. The guards grabbed the man by his shoulders, forcing a soft whimper from his lips. They shot him quickly and pulled him away.
"Next, please." The guards were looking at me now, clunching their guns with a smile. The tallest one was itching to pull the trigger. So I walked over the pool
The InterrogationWhite painted room. One way mirror stretching from wall to wall. You sit at a decent-sized table. Two cops positioned adjacent to you. One sitting at the table with you, the other standing with arms crossed. The look on his face says "you slime".The Interrogation1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
These cops are getting you to confess to crimes. Some you committed. Most you didn't. Regardless of your innocence or guilt, you nod and agree. You confess and apologize. You exercise your contrition muscles.
They call you a Godless criminal. A disgrace to everyone you love. The beat you down emotionally until you agree with them.
The sitting cop, in between accusations, starts coughing. The coughing turns to hacking. He spits something onto the table. It's covered in a black slime. It wriggles about, lashing itself from side to side. You observe it until you realize it's an under developed creature of some kind. NOT human.
It has archaic ridges on its back. Something ancient and abominab
F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 65F-Zero: Seppuku 2/3 - Lap 655 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Chiya opened her eyes and immediately smiled, the first thing she could see was Earl’s visor cap sitting next to the lamp in front of her. She looked at her waist and found Earl’s arm wrapped around it. While she hadn’t figured out Captain Falcon’s identity, she realized that this wasn’t very important to her—not when she had someone like Earl in her life. She turned her head towards him and smiled, he had her stock hat on his head as he slept.
I’m the cute one? I think he’s the cute one! She removed the hat from his head and put it back on her, Earl instantly began to awaken as he felt the hat come off his head. Chiya gave him a puzzled look. He usually woke up hours before me, what’s changed..? Earl yawned and licked his lips a few times, he looked up at Chiya and grinned.
“Afternoon,” she corrected.
The day of the Green Plant race was here, leaving Earth was practica
The 1,000 Year RealmThe 1,000 Year Realm:The 1,000 Year Realm11 hours ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
When on the edge of unfathomability, you are summoned by the Fate Facilitators. The higher beings of all. They explain to you that this has happened to beings from other planes. That many have nearly crossed the gap between mortal and immortality. And if you can understand the meaning of everything. You will be made a facilitator. Here is where it gets interesting. If you don't understand the true meaning of everything, you are sent back. And after this, it could inspire you. This has happened to many famous and notorious people. Before they became known. From scientists to inventors. To murderers and psychopaths. It may drive you to brilliancy or insanity.
You get sent to the white void. The 1,000 year realm. And stay for 1,000 years. You can't move. You can't speak. You don't age. You don't crave. You don't sleep. All you do is float. As if you are in water. And the only thing you can do is think. Think about the past, the present. And think about the future. Th
A Dying WorldMy name... is Kai. The drops of dew seemed effervescent against the stained glass of the run down church. It had been seven days, although I could not know for sure. The forces of humanity that seemed embroiled in constant turmoil could sustain themselves no longer. As the figureheads of a world at war fought to gain the resources of each other, the masses were left to bicker and squabble about the war. The day it happened was silent. The world erupted in a display of sound and devastation never seen before, to leave my world in ash. One minute, the mundane task of sifting through the mail in my hand seemed important, as it might have been the last thing I had ever done. As the hours that past went by, the world would never be the same. No more school for little children, monopolies for the tycoons, or even homes for the needy. It seems that in conditions such as these, when faced with the shocking reality that nuclear fire brings, humanity rears it's ugly head. The sick, untreated. ThA Dying World2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Goopy ShoeYou insert your foot slowly into your dusty old shoes. The decrepit, imitation leather cracks and peels. The rubber soles bleached by ancient summers.The Goopy Shoe1 week ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
As your toes poke into the dark cavern of the left shoe, an unfamiliar squish is heard. A squelching slop as your foot comes into contact with a slimy mass. Feeling the shiver of nauseous disgust attack your senses you quickly retract your appendage from the old shoe.
You hold the item upside down and forcefully slap its underside in an attempt to loosen the goop anomaly. Slothfully, the object of interest slides out of the shoe.
A hideous, unearthly vermin squelches its appalling body in venomous jabs. Segmented legs and shell-less Gastropod details. Its eyes are cold and void of emotive qualities. It begins to make a squawking hiss that slowly but surely creates a kind of mimicry of a human voice.
"Mama!" It cries. "Why did you stuff me in this shoe?"