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Original Short Story 17 -- Spelljammer"Too many runes," I say, "This looks like more like a grounds map for a Trudixian battle camp in an eight week snowstorm."Original Short Story 17 -- Spelljammer8 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Then what do we do?" Teeyi says. She's an elvish dame that conned me into helping her out. She had officially went outside of her pay grade with this.
"Nothing." I shake my head at the network of etchings on the devices smooth surface.
"Nothing?" Her eyes widened and her irises shrunk to pin points amongst a field of blood red and ivory. She looked like she had seen the pants less ghost of Pettagalas at a dwarven dancing feast.
"Nothing," I say as I stand. I bring a hand to my neck and massage out a crick. "Gu
Original Short Story 02-- The DeityMy name is Bartholomew and I am a god.Original Short Story 02-- The Deity9 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
I look down upon the pathetic scurrying figures below me with my scepter in hand. It allows me to make and unmake at will. With a mere, effortless gesture I can crush that which I have created.
I have come to respect the nerve of these mindless puppets have, taking residence in my creations without begging and groveling for their lives and paying me homage. They even accept death well enough in my less merciful moods.
They act as if I am not here, watching them. They go about their miserably pointless lives going about tasks. Yes they act for the greater good, to serve a queen, but they exis
Transhuman MegalomaniaDefinition: Not a new mental illness. Refers to victims of megalomania whose modified abilities justify the subject's sense of importance.Transhuman Megalomania6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
Due to the ubiquitous nature of mods, cybernetic, nanotechnological, bioengineered, psionic, or transubstantiative, it is inevitable that certain megalomaniacs are also high-powered modders. Ascertaining whether the illness induced the subject's extensive modification or if modding cements the illness has generally been dismissed as a chicken-or-the-egg conundrum.
There is little to be done for treatment of hyper-megalomaniacs, other than necessary acts of subdual and detainment. Treatment can begin afte
Two Destroyers, Prologue -- An EndA blanket of ash surrounded Zammela, though it brought no warmth. That which did not settle fluttered about like snow. Together they served as evidence of the sun's wrath. The once great city of Agellas existed now as a lifeless crater, the centerpiece to the end of the world of Pange.Two Destroyers, Prologue -- An End11 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Zammela sat at the outskirts of destruction with the Derrek's remains clutched to her breast. He stood beside her, defied everything for her, and now he lie cold and lifeless. He paid for his failures with not only his life but the lives of all those that inhabited the city.
Soon, death would claim far more than that.
Magic crackled in the air around
The Declaration of WarDearest Brothers,The Declaration of War3 months ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
With the kindest propositions
That our city may receive;
That our children’s cries are muffled
That their horrors we impede.
For the turmoil of our country,
If you fine men can digest;
The bloody verses of dissension
Your politicians may impress.
I hear your monarchs take to laughing
As though our nightmares were their jest.
That our history’s been partial
To the heaving of your breast.
So I ask you to consider
That which most would deem a fright;
The unleashing of the monsters
That took place that faithful night.
I’ve but one heir to my fortunes
As you noble men should know.
For the son that my love
NaNo Sketches4 months ago in Books & Novels
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The Clever Queen and The Mad KingNow, in our time of forgetfulness, we oft overlook the ages gone by, their stories buried beneath the sands and washed by the blood of countless wars. No, my young Prince, this is not a tale of war. A Queen has other tales to tell her son than those of her King. This is a tale of spirits, forbidden magic, and the wrath of a Queen!The Clever Queen and The Mad King4 months ago in Short Stories More Like This
Oh you may smile and doubt the wrath of such Queens, my son, but one day you will know the power of the mind over the sword and of desire over the mind.
Ages ago, when the rivers were but streams and the night grew darker still, there once was a wise and beautiful queen. Her hair was dark as kohl and blackest night with silver woven through it like scattered stars. She was a kind and fair queen much loved by her people, for her magic made the crops bountiful and the land fertile. Alas, the queen was unhappy. No matter how beautiful she was and no matter how her magic made the land fruitful, s
Into the AbyssThe last thing I like my victims to see is me severing their soul from their body, it pleases me to no extent to know I was the last thing they saw!Into the Abyss5 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
There's so much joy in it!
On this particular night I was hunting with the hopes of doing just that, hopefully I come upon him before those Pestilence bastards. Chicago was my territory and I had no intention of sharing, everyone else can fuck themselves.
As I sat atop the garbage can I pulled the photo from my jeans pocket and studied it, on it was a fat, balding white guy. He probably didn't have much to live for looking like that.
I laughed.
I was in the 'bad' part of
Early Love6 months ago in Fantasy
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StupidityTitle: StupidityStupidity6 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Rating: FR13/T
Disclaimer: Don't own Sherlock in any form. But Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was a genius to create such a character.
Word Count: 879
Summary: The first moments when Sherlock has returned and told John he was back and why he left. Post Reichenbach Fall, Reunion ficlet. Angsty. Hints of pre-slash of the Johnlockian persuasion.
Notes: I don't know where this came from. I was happily reading along through some Johnlock fics and BAM! This wallops me over the head. Most likely it's due to my only finally having seen The Reichenbach Fall, and I'm projecting. Three years is a long time, after all
The FoxThe Fox8 months ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Under a pale moonlight, waves washed the stony shores of Brighton, lapping out with a rush and then in again with a long and seething breath from the ocean. A fox made its way along a path at the top of the seafront, its nose hovering just above the ground while being rotated quickly by its head and sniffing eagerly, as though in search of something. The fox moved around, the rest of its body seemingly pulled along by its nose, and searched inside crisp packets, ruffled tin cans, bit through pizza boxes, burger boxes and anything else which contained even the slightest scent of food. Suddenly, a scent caught his nose and his body froze. A st
The Virgin House"Let's see…eye of newt, boiled bat wings, mandrake root, and- My, my, tears of a virgin? Where am I going to get a virgin?"The Virgin House11 months ago in Scraps More Like This
"Perhaps you can place an ad in the paper?"
"Hush, Madrina, I'm trying to think." Aggie rubbed the mole on her chin. Her cauldron boiled happily in front of her. "Let simmer for three full moons," she read from her spellbook. "I have time." Aggie turned on her heel, and her robes spun with her. "Madrina!"
"Yes mam!"
"Go into town and find a man named Richard Sphin. He deals in uncanny business. Tell him I wish to order a virgin."
"Can we get a cat scratcher for my nails?"
"Not enough money."
The bum
TesterKitty, Jennifer, Matt and Jack stood in front of the grave of Tally Green. It had been 5 years since she died, and, as every year, they met up at the grave yard where Tally spent much of her last days before the accident. They stood there, remembering her, as Kitty laid down the flowers. Delicate white blossoms scattered amongst blood red roses.Tester11 months ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The four of them stood there in silence, reflecting on who Tally had been. A bit of an outsider, it took a long time for her to call you a friend. Defensive, she hardly ever let her guard down, never really trusting anyone. Quiet and mysterious. That’s now those who never really knew her saw her. But those who managed to get past her shield saw a very different girl. Kind, loving, full of energy, always laughing. A true listener, but, when she felt safe, she could talk for years. But even then, you could never truly say you knew Tally Green. Not even Kitty, her best friend, could say she knew exactly what was going on in that girls mind.
The bridge of souls11 months ago in Abstract
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Working hard?1 year ago in Books & Novels
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L'Ange"My name is Ange."L'Ange1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Everything had started with those few words. That is, to say, that the end had been thrust upon the man so suddenly that he was unsure as to whether or not it was a dream. He had lived a fair life up until then – as a teenager, he had been brilliant in mathematics; as a young adult, he had decided to teach others of the joy of mathematics. Now, however, he was old. Mantice had lived for a striking amount of 96 years, with arthritis and everything. It was time for Mantice to leave – and standing at the door was this strange person named Ange, who gave off a radiance equivalent to that of a star's.
"Mantice Laskal
The ScribeThe Scribe: Once, we all rode dragons...The Scribe1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
*
In a thousand years, we will not remember these days. What Calla said to Mor, what secret loves were stamped upon trees.
What will be remembered is the scent of daffodils in damp spring ground, the fire of the ship as it burned through the atmosphere and tore pockets of earth. The particular pang of losing our last dragon.
Everyone will say they were there; how they'll remember it! The little dragon, stunted and jewel green, mewling as the Other Men dug it out of its bern and broke its neck. It was placed in a bag and taken back to their ship. No one will remember how we crouched, frightened, wit
Ladies of Shadows1 year ago in Scraps
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Still a better love story1 year ago in Humorous
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When Healing Begins1 year ago in Abstract
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WORLD'S BEST VAMPIRE2 years ago in Scraps
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Still Breathing2 years ago in Conceptual
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Its a TRAP2 years ago in Horror & Macabre
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We Will Not YieldWe will not yield.We Will Not Yield2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Yes, this day may be lost in the oblivion of time.
Yes, our lives,
our civilizations,
our homes,
our dreams,
the very memory of our existence
may be wiped from the earth for all eternity.
Yes, our homes,
our livelihood,
our livestock may burn.
So maybe the enemy will win.
Maybe the tyrant that has taken over our lives,
Drowning us all in fear,
Will not be defeated today.
So maybe the lives we've scraped out
Will be blown away like so much ash in the wind.
Maybe this battle will be lost.
Maybe we will fail.
But if that is the cost of standing up for what is right...
...We will not yie
Sta.sh
