A couple short pieces meant to set up for possible longer stories.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Roptera.” I looked up from the press I had been reading to see a stunning blonde woman standing beside me. She was wearing a business suit that probably cost more than my car and was showing me a very professional smile. Tight mouthed and nothing that touched the eyes. “Chi. Please call me Chi, Miss?” I ask as I stand up. “Gona, Ms. Gona Mr. Rope..Chi,” she answers with a slight warming to her smile. “I'm Mrs. Aysnjar's assistant. If you would please follow me.” As we pass thru the front offices of Hallowed Word Records I try to pry some additional information about Ms. Gona's reclusive boss or her equally mysterious band mates. But she easily deflects my questions, moving our conversation back to my own work. As we come to one of the more private back office meeting rooms, I find myself telling her an amusing anecdote about my interview with Elton John just prior to his knighthood ceremony. She laughs, her blue eyes now sparkling, as I finish the story and then motions towards one of the couches against the wall. “Thank you for tale Mr, I'm sorry. Thank you Chi. But I'm afraid I'll have to leave you alone temporarily. Always more errands to run. But Mrs. Asynjur will be here shortly. It was a pleasure and perhaps we will meet again someday Chi,” she says with a bright grin as she heads out, closing the room's door behind her. As I wait I glance around the room. Nothing unusual here. Comfortable furniture. A conference table loaded with simple yet expensive refreshments. And walls loaded with framed photos and magazine covers that highlight the companies successes. I spot a '96 Spin cover that features my first cover story and move over to look at closer. As I look at my first major break I hear the door open behind me. “He's part of the reason I choose you for this, “ a commanding, yet sultry voice says. I turn and there she is. Frigga Asynjur. Front woman for the multi-platinum, 5 time Grammy winners Frigga & Her Handmaidens. Four statuesque blondes with angelic voices, mysterious origins and mythic names. Frigga (vocals), Saga (lead guitar), Eir the Healer (bass) and Gefion Grendelsdam (drums). They had appeared from nowhere as part of the '98 Lilith Fair and exploded onto the world music stage. Anywhere they choose to tour they could sell out concert halls and arenas. All four of their albums were chart toppers. And in those five years this would be the first interview any of them had ever agreed to do. “Mr. Roptera, I thank you for coming, “ she says. She moves to one of the couches and sits, and then gestures for me to take a seat near her. “Please, call me Chi. And let me thank you for this honor,” I answer as I perch on the edge of a couch and ready my notepad and pen. “No, I think it best to things at a formal level for the time,” she answers with only the tiniest of pauses. I hesitate for a moment and then smile at her. “Very well then Mrs. Aysnjar. I understand from the terms you've given for the interview that you won't answer questions about your family. Or those of your other band members. And any questions about you prior to '98 are off limits. So lets start with what you mentioned as you entered. You said it was my interview with Nathan Amos, the Goth, that led to picking me for this interview. Could you expand on that?” “Of course Mr. Roptera. Mr. Amos was part of our last American tour and I spoke with him several times about the piece you wrote on him. And he told me those what you left out. About his parentage. Though I must ask, did you omit those parts because you didn't believe him?” I pause again, caught somewhat off guard. After gathering my thoughts I reply. “I'm still unsure about what he told me. He was exceedingly drunk when he spoke about his parents. But that wasn't it. I met both Mr. Reznor and Ms. Amos back when I was first starting out, and Nathan does bear a resemblance to them both. But his tale was fairly far outside the norm. Even for a former teen cape. So I felt it best to only report on what I could prove for fact.” “So you don't believe in magik then Mr. Roptera?” I have to pause again, as I wonder how to take back control of the interview. “I wouldn't say that. I've been backstage during several of Lady Mandrake's shows. And I was in Evergreen City during the '96 Fomorian attacks. I've definitely seen enough to make Nathan's explanation for the disappearances of Ms. Amos and Mr. Reznor in '94 at least slightly plausible. But you can't verify magik explanations for things, and I won't run what I can't confirm.” Frigga taps her finger against her lips and I wonder if I've blow the interview. I also notice how full and red her lips are and how pale and clear her skin is. Like shining ice. But then she speaks again. “That is good to know. So ask your next question Mr. Roptera.” I shuffle my notes without really looking at them. Any questions that delve into her interest in magik will likely involve her past, which is off limits. Best to stick with another musical query for now. “Your two most popular songs are both from your first album, Shaking the World Tree. What was the inspiration behind 'Wolves at the Doors' and 'Golden Boughs Bend Low'?” She smiles wide then and leans forward as she answers. “The first song is a warning Mr. Roptera. A dark time is coming. One spoken of by the stories and sacred texts of many cultures and faiths. Armageddon, the Tandava Nritya, the Apocalypse,” and here she hesitates, “Ragnarök. The song is a warning to humanity. To call them away from further swelling the forces of evil.” She pauses to take a drink from a metal cup. And where did that come from I have to wonder silently. “The second song is one of hope. That the Final Winter does not have to be true to its name. That Spring can still follow and the normal cycle of life may continue. To remain steadfast and not give in to despair and fear.” I hesitate before asking another question. I'm unsure again where to go next. But I finally decide to simply follow my instincts. “Is that why you decided to do this interview? To clarify the warning and message of those songs?” With my question she smiles again and stands before answering. “Saga was indeed right. You are a clever and worthy man. A true skald. This Summer's coming European tour will be our final one. And now I must go.” She then begins walking back to the door, but there she pauses, half in and out of the room. “But I am certain we shall meet again. My husband's hall needs warriors. But Fensalir, dear Chi, needs men and women of strong hearts and clever minds.” And with that final cryptic remark she leaves. Since that brief interview and then the band's vanishing after their '05 tour I've gone back and done more research into Norse myth. I never found anything on Gona, but there is a Gna, a messenger of Frigga. And Fensalir was Frigga's “Marsh Hall”, a place of crafts and learning. I also find the title of their final album Gullinkambi: the Golden Comb. Its the name of the rooster of Asgard that wakens their warriors and warns of the coming of Ragnarök. And as Fall draws to a close I wait for the coming Winter and wonder...
“Its a circle. It circles and spins and turns and shrinks and breaks all fall down.” The young child continued to mutter apparent nonsense. His body was caked with sweat and filth. His eyes stared..elsewhere as he rested his head in the woman's lap. She petted his matted scalp and glanced up at the cloaked figure. “More?” she asked, her voice carrying a hint of an East European accent. The figure nodded in reply. “I'm sorry baby darling. But we need more. Keep looking. Look again for mama ,” she whispered to him as the child shook his head in negation. “Please baby try again. Try again for mama.” The child stared blankly ahead as tears streamed down his face. “Round it goes. Round and round. All break down. Sheds it's skin. Starts again. Round and round and round.” The child's body convulsed and shook as the woman held him down. “Keep going baby. Keep going. Just a little longer,” she pled as she choked back to tears. “Round and round! All around the mulberry bush! Monkey chased the weasel!” the child screamed now and spat out flecks of blood. “Monkey thought 'twas all in fun? All! In! Fun!” The child now gasped each word as his nails dug into his hands and drew blood. His body arced and bent wildly. The woman looked up, tears now flowed freely down her face. She tried to silently plead with the cloaked figure. But it simply shook it's head in negation. The woman continued to weep and spoke again to the child. “More little,” she asked as she choked back sobs, “just a little more for mama. You are so strong, so brave. A little more.” “all in fun...but pop...goes the weasel, “ the child whispered, barely audible over the sounds of the snapping of his own arm bones flapped against the ground. “round and round and round. Fire and flood and rot and cold. Born again to eat its tail. Round and round and round and round...”. With those final gasped words the child's body bent again, almost in half. Blood leaked from his eyes and nose and between his clenched teeth. Then with a final twitch he lay still. The woman caressed his head and looked up at the figure. “Did you get enough? Was it worth it?” she asked, her voice flat and cold, tears still falling down to land on the child's slack face. “Yes Magda,” the figure replied as it turned and began to walk away. “You teach your children well. Perhaps we will be prepared this time thanks to your sacrifice.” The woman simply held the small body and continued to weep.
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I doubt I'm alone in that when I first started coming with super-hero parody concepts many were Batman/Robin types. When I took many of those earlier ideas and started to try and write for Superguy I ended up discarding most of them. And when I gathered up the various concepts from that for what I want to do with my Superfic stories, I trimmed away nearly all the rest. Because most of them were really, really stupid. I mean REALLY stupid. And this is from a guy who STILL thinks a Hulk-parody named SMURF! is awesome. But yeah, HatchetMan and Kid Cutlery? Finding-StuffMan and Lost Boy. TERRIBLE IDEAS. But one managed to stick with me. Mostly because I actually had a few story ideas for the sidekick. So BadgerMan and Kid Weasel remained...
And then later I began thinking, hmmm. Future stories. So the sidekick is now the main hero. And he's got a sidekick. But what if thats a TRADITION? If there is a LINE of heroes and sidekicks stretching back generations...
And so the The Heroic Legacy of the Weasel:
Lord Weasel & Childe Sable
Sir Sable & Squire Mink
The Comte de Mink & Young Ferret
Mr. Ferret & Lil' Otter
The Lone Otter & the Fisher Kid
The Fisher & Wolverine Boy
Captain Wolverine & Skunk Boy
SkunkMan & Badger Lad
BadgerMan & Kid Weasel
The Weasel & Ms. Mustelid
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Another unfinished writing piece. This was going to be a Hackmaster short story.
A Hireling's Tale: The Torchbearer
“You did what?”
“We got you a job,” the boy's father replied.
“A job? Why? How will I work for someone and still around the farm?” the young lad asked in confusion.
“See I told you he'd make a fuss,” his father muttered to his wife, “You explain to him. I'll finish his packing.”
“Mother, I don't understand,” the boy said as his father went back inside. He blinked back tears as he tried to make sense of what had happened. His mother pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Oh Kail, your father has decided its time for you to go and make your way in the world. You're almost fourteen after all,” she said as she stroked his head.
“And our lands just aren't big enough for both you and your brothers. Hector has told us he plans to enter the seminary as a priest of Thor. And Timanous and Melia will be married in the Spring. Meaning we need money for the dower's fees and then soon Tim will have his own family to raise.”
“And so I get nothing but a shove out the door?” Kail wailed.
“Quiet boy,” his father growled as he returned. “We've found you good work. Work that will give you a chance at real wealth. Sure there's risk. But this gives you a better chance than you'll have grubbing on your brother's land.”
“Now dry your face boy and grab your bag,” his father said as he kicked a large bag towards Kail. “We need to go to the village and the Sow so you can meet up with your employers. And I don't want to be away from the farm after dark.”
Kail trudged up the path behind his father. He'd though he couldn't be any more depressed, but the Gawds must have laughed at that. Almost as soon as they'd set out storm clouds had blown in and a steady rain had begun to fall. Kail clutched his second-hand cloak tight and adjusted his cheap straw hat. Neither did much to keep the rain from soaking him though. After a miserable hour his father called out. “Theres the tavern boy. You'll out of the wet soon enough.” Kail glumly nodded in response and followed his father into the Black Sow. The taproom's fire hit him with a burst of heat as they entered that raised steam from their soaked clothes. As Kail tried to squeeze some of the damp out he looked around. The Sow was crowded tonight, mostly with local farmers. But a group nearest to the fire stood out. There were three of them clustered around one of the tavern's cheap tables. A burly blonde man in shining chain armor with a sword strapped to his belt. A dark-haired man with a heavy beard and wearing a tabard with Thor's hammer on it. And the last looked to be an elf! A real elf clad in dark robes, with a staff at his side. And this was the group his father approached.
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So I guess this is a monthly journal now? Oh well, heres a few short SuperFic pieces I did a while back...
First, something meant for a short series about Buddhist Monk Girl spun off from my The Team concept:
“Shit, pixies!” Mitzi whispered as she dragged Anne and Jaqi back into the cover of the tree line.
“Fuck,” Jaqi muttered as peeked around a tree.
“Wh...” Anne began before she lowered her voice at the other's glares. She began again at a whisper, “Whats so bad about pixies?”
“Pixies are tiny, evil bitches. They'll gut you for the change in your pockets as soon as look at you,” Mitzi replied. “Now follow me as quietly as you can so I can see what they're up to. Hopefully they'll move on and then we can meet my contact.”
Mitzi led the other two as they crept along the tree line to get closer to the gathered faerie-kin. As they neared the mob of pixies, they noticed that the winged terrors had surrounded a small man dressed all in green.
“Jimmy youz iz friends with that deadbeat bum Tommy O'Tomlin. You can pass him along a message cant's you?” one of the pixies piped as she flitted in front of the minuscule man.
“Now lassies, I wouldn't say we're friends. Just nodding acquaintances as it were, “ Jimmy replied nervously.
“Either ways. So youz tells him that he has the money he owes by the end of the week. And the vig. He does that and maybe me and my girls lets him keep his thumbs, you capisce?”
“Of course lass. As soon as I see that scofflaw Tommy I'll tell him. You've got my word as clurichaun on it you do, “ Jimmy said as he eyed the pixies that flitted all around him.
“Maybe you will. But I thinks maybe youz might need some encouragement to add urgency to that message. So maybe I think we'll cut you a bit. Not too much, just enough so youz understand why you'll want Tommy to pays what he owes, “ the head pixie said as she darted forward. As the shining, tiny woman passed Jimmy's arm a deep cut appeared.
“Argh, “ Jimmy exclaimed in sudden pain. “There's no need for this,” he tried to say as he clapped his hand to the cut. He then stumbled back as anther pixie cut him across the cheek.
“Fuck! If they get their blood-lust up this will get out of hand,” Mitzi said from the woods. “And Jimmy's our contact. When I move, both of you follow and then start hitting faerie skanks as hard and fast as possible.”
At the others quick nods Mitzi drew her holy wooden mallet from Elsewhere and charged forward. Anne and Jaqi followed, almost on her heels.
Then the SuperFic 'verse version of Power Rangers: The sun rose slowly over the bay of Saffron City. And by its light a dark shape could be seen moving rapidly beneath the water. As the shape approached the docks, its’ wake rocked the various boats in their moorings. And then, with the morning sun perfectly back-lighting him, the gigantic rubbery shape of Kaiju leaped into the air and landed with a resounding crash in the docks district. The thirty foot tall, fake-looking reptile posed in a classic x-position and tilted his head back. *GODZILLA ROAR* And then the colossal anarchist began smashing buildings beneath his massive feet. His giant plastic eyes seemed to gleam with a playful glee as he stomped a Blockbuster into rubble. And then they gleamed with something else as beams of pure destructive force shot forth from them and destroyed a patrolling police helicopter. *HAPPY GODZILLA ROAR* Meanwhile, at various points across the city, the over sized watches of five ordinary teen boys began to flash. The pentad of youths all simultaneously stood in the same pose. Legs apart and arms held out to the side, looking straight ahead determinedly. And then with perfect synchronization each extended their right arm across their chest, followed by a crossing of their wrists. “Magi Prinsessa Metall Soldat Force Go!” they exclaimed as one. Each is bathed in a blinding column of light, within which their vague silhouette can be seen rising into the air, hovering for a moment and then returning to the earth. As the light faded the five teen boys are gone, replaced by five gorgeous, metallic, multi-hued women. Each struck a unique quasi-martial arts pose and shouted their call sign. “Red Mercury!” “Black Iron!” “Blue Steel!” “Green Aluminum!” “Gold Gold!” And then all resume their original pose, except now their heads are tilted back as they look upwards. After a second each is teleported away in a stretchy beam of cheap f/x. In the docks district Kaiju continued his rampage of destruction. He seemed most happy when demolishing some corporate chain. But as he stomped another Starbucks flat a booming voice called out. “Stop this senseless destruction fiend!” Kaiju looked up from his play and to see a twenty-five foot female robot was advancing on him. The giant ‘bot looked to be an amalgamation of five smaller robots of different colors. The massive machine paused to do some kind of hand kata and then spoke again. “Leave our city now monster, before you get hurt! For you face Jatte Stjarna Orotting!” *DEFIANT GODZILLA ROAR* Kaiju followed up his response by blasting the female ‘bot with his AtomVision. JSD staggered back as a series of small explosions rocked it. But it quickly recovered and pointed with both hands at the villain. And then its’ breasts rocketed out to explode against Kaiju, while a new set quickly slid out to replace them. Then the new set rocketed out to hit Kaiju. And then again. And again. Dozens of explosive, metal mammaries hammered into Kaiju and he faltered under their impact. The great beast fell to his knees and then collapsed. As he did, he shimmered and the giant rubber reptile dissolved away. What is revealed is a short Japanese man, now unconscious in the rubble. With the threat ended the members of the MPMS Force teleported down to the ground and surrounded the comatose villain. Each then struck their unique victory pose as police and emergency services arrived.
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This repost is one of the first things I wrote way back when (my freshman year in college in '93) for Superguy. Superguy, if I haven't mentioned it, is a mailing list/writing collective about a parody super-hero universe. Its still going on, though not at the same level of output. I participated with it twice, once my freshman year and again for a couple months during what was technically my junior year at NAU before dropping out. After that I didn't have conistent internet for a while and I kind of stopped writing for the most part...
When I decided to start writing again, what I wanted to do most was go back to the stuff I'd been trying to do with Superguy. Except on my own. So my SUPERFIC posts. And once again the first thing I rewrote was SMURF! The earliest versions are very weak. Attempts at puns and gags don't work for me. Odd-ball concepts that are treated seriously? That I can do. I like to think this version is better than average...
Finland, the Malahvia ForestDeep in the secret heart of the forest lies an unusual village. A village inhabited by people less than a foot tall. These secretive folk led quiet lives avoiding humanity and seeking to exsist simply and in harmony in with nature. These tiny blue-skinned people only wished to be left alone, to live in peace. A wish that would not be granted.
His first sensation is of pain. Every nerve and sinew in His massive frame felt like it was afire. He tilted His head back and screamed His pain to the night sky. Slowly the agony faded and He managed to focus on His surroundings. And on himself. He stood in a barren spot amid the dark woods. All about Him was the wreckage of tiny buildings and gardens. And surrounding the barren area were dozens of humans. Big Folk. Big Folk? Where did that thought come from. The humans were half...His...size. In shock He looked down at His own form. His limbs were massive, as thick as tree trunks and corded with muscles. He grasped at His head, clutching at His bald pate. The shape felt right. But too large. Far too large. He tried to speak, to question the humans, but all that came out was a deep growl. Who am I? What am I? He had to make them explain. Force them to tell Him what was going on. His growls become louder, angrier. Escalating into enraged roars. Several of the humans stepped towards Him, moving out of the shadows of the woods into the moonlight. Now He could get a better look at them. While the perspective of looking down at them still felt wrong to Him, they looked normal enough. They were all wearing the same clothing, some kind of ivory white suit, which was slightly odd. Odd? Why was that odd? Why were they normal? Nothing made sense! He glared about and noticed that the humans seemed nervous. Several of them spoke to Him in some unknown language. Their tone seemed calm, but there was an undercurrent of fear to it. Angrily He stepped forward and the nearest humans raised their hands at him. They all held some kind of metal device. What were they doing now? Suddenly he felt a half-dozen tiny pricks. He looked down at Himself and saw numerous tiny darts stuck in Him. And then He felt pain again as some kind of energy flowed from the human's devices to the darts. The humans had hurt Him! He screamed in rage and lunged forward and grabbed ahold of the closest human. And then the human screamed as His hands crushed the smaller arms of the man in His grip. Stupid, puny humans. The screams annoyed Him. As He tossed the broken human aside He felt yet more darts hit him and delivered more shocks. Why did the humans keep attack Him? Why did they hurt him? As He turned and looked for a new target, something rushed past Him. And in its passage He felt a new pain across His chest. Something had cut Him! He snarled again and looked for the source of this new hurt. There! Another human, this one all in black and wearing a funny hat. And it held a large knife that dripped blood. His blood! He screamed in rage and charged the new human. But the man leaped aside, easily vaulting over Him. One of the white humans was now in front of Him, as He attempted to stop and turn. The White human screamed briefly as He trampled him into the ground. He spun about and looked for Black Man as the remaining White humans scattered into the woods. And then pain again. Black Man had thrown his knife and hit Him in the leg. Stupid Black Man! He spotted Black Man standing over a hundred feet away, back by the barren area. He roared again and leaped this time, clearing the distance to Black Man in a single bound. Black Man managed to dive aside at the last moment and avoided being crushed under His feet. As He landed the forest seemed to shake from the impact. Black Man now held two new devices that spat lights at Him. These hurt more than the darts or the knife! Black Man darted away, and continued to fire on Him. He grew even angrier at Black Man and He grabbed ahold of a nearby tree trunk. With a sudden jerk He easily uprooted the hundred year old tree and tossed it at Black Man. Ha! Stupid Black Man didn't avoid that. He strode over to the pinned BLack Man and reached down. With a squeal of tearing metal he tore off on of Black Man's arms. Metal? Puzzled He looked at the arm clutched in His hand. It dripped a pale fluid that didn't look like blood. He sniffed at the severed limb. It didn't smell like flesh and blood either. He stuck the torn end in his mouth and then quickly spat it out. It most definitely didn't taste like blood. As He looked back towards the trapped Black Man He felt a dozen more sharp objects stab into His back. He snarled and spun around. There, more of the White humans, all of them pointed long devices at Him. He prepared to leap at them, but staggered forward instead. Muzzily, He blinked and took another staggered step forward. And another volley of sharp objects from the humans hit Him. He felt so tired. Why was He tired? Why...
BadGuy Guy muttered to himself as he managed to leverage the heavy oak trunk off of himself long enough so that he could slip free. He quickly bounced up to his feet and stalked over towards the recumbent blue brute. He kept his remaining pulse pistol trained on the creature as he stepped up and kicked it in the side. He instantly jumped back, but the creature merely began to snore. BadGuy Guy grinned and yelled at the cautiously approaching Men in White. "Hurry up boys and get this bastard gagged and caged! I don't know how long the tranqs will keep him under. But before they wear off I want him back at HQ and someone else's problem." BadGuy Guy holstered his pistol and then knelt down by his mangled arm. He picked it up and looked it over. Damn it all, the servos were totally wrecked. Repairing the cybernetic limb was definitely going to cut into the profits form this job. Oh well, if the thing had ever really gotten ahold of him it would have been much worse. He looked over at the Men in White who were now swarming over the Alpha subject. "And someone find my fucking hat!"
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“Ok, what was it this time?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
“It can’t be any worse than the loose towel episode. And besides, I think I’ve got you beat this week.”
“Oh? You think so?”
“Yeah, I do. But you go first.”
“Ok. Fine. So last Tuesday we’re laying BwahahaMan and a bunch of Rent-A-Thugs. He was poisoning donuts or some shit like that this time around. But James and I tracked him to his hideout and jumped them. And we’re just cleaning house when Bwaha nails me in the back with a shotgun.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, hurts like a fucking bitch, but the armor takes it. Still, it knocks me to the ground and knocks the wind out of me. Left a huge fucking bruise also.”
“I’ll bet.”
“So I’m fucking lying there and James just goes bug-fuck. I mean lays out the last of the Thugs and just starts in on Bwaha. Leaves him with a broken arm, a bunch of cracked ribs and a jaw that’ll apparently need to be wired shut.”
“Well, that’s good. Means we won’t have to listen to his lame jokes for awhile.”
“No shit. So anyway, we’re the car.”
“The Badger Car.”
“…”
“Yeah, so we’re in the car and we’re heading back to the house.”
“You mean the Badger’s Den?”
“Look do you want me to finish? Seriously, I don’t make fun of your family’s giant fucking phallic symbol of a fucking tower.”
“Sorry. Go on.”
“You sure? Maybe you’d rather talk about the Badger-a-rangs?”
“I said I was sorry. Ok? Just finish the story.”
“Right. So we’re driving back. And James is lecturing me on situational awareness and shit. And not using the armor as a crutch. But I can tell he was worried. And so I’m thinking now’s the time. Now I can tell him how I feel.”
“Uh oh.”
“Yeah. So he’s finished the lecture and I’ve grunted back in all the right places. So now there’s one of those pauses. And I’m trying to work up my nerve. And that’s when he starts talking about hooking up with Alleycat on patrol the night before. Alley-my fucking tits can barely constrained by latex-cat. That HUGE fucking slut Alleycat.”
“They’re nice tits though.”
“…”
“Well they are.”
“Ok so lets hear yours.” “My what?” “Story of unrequited love.” “Well frustrated lust really.”
“Fine, fine. So lets hear it.” “Right. So the last month I’ve been working on busting up a W.O.E. cell in Chicago. And most of that time working with the neocon twins.”
“The All-American Teens?” “Yeah. And the both of them walking sex appeal. The whole time Rocket is trying to flirt and act like he wants to hook up. But I can tell he’s faking it. And Bombshell’s trying to either ignore me or trash me in front of her brother. Except she keeps watching me when she thinks I can’t tell. I swear they’re the two most closeted people I’ve ever met.”
“Rocket’s gay? Holy crap.” “Yeah, both of them are. But totally in denial about it. And while Rocket’s a hunky piece of man-meat, I’m so not being either his beard or bolstering his self-delusions.”
“He did know you’re only fourteen right?” “Fuck no. Its not my fault my people reach adulthood by twelve. Fucking high speed parthogenesis bullshit. And after the disaster that was my relationship with Dom, I’m telling anyone my age again.”
“Hey, I can’t blame Swimkid for freaking when he found out his girlfriend wasn’t just younger, but could have got him tagged as a pedophile.” “Four years isn’t that big a difference. And even if we’d been found out both our families have full diplomatic status. It was no excuse for him to start fucking BirdMaiden.” “I still can’t believe you got back at him by sleeping with his sister.” “It wasn’t just revenge. Naiad’s insanely hot. And she knew things.”
“You are such a slut. You know that right?” “Oh hush. Great. Now I’m all depressed about that. I can’t believe their father sent them back to Lemuria.”
“Hey, talk was getting around. It would have been just a matter of time before the whole sordid thing was in the papers.” “I know, I know. Mom explained it all to me and how she agreed with Prince Gav’s decision. But damn it, you don’t forget your first love. Or loves.” “Slut.” “Quiet. I should have concentrated on being frustrated with the morality twins.”
“Probably best not to get romantically involved with them anyway. I’ve heard a few things.” “What do you mean?”
“I was talking to Netizen a few months back, when we were upgrading our computer systems. And he mentioned some stuff he’d found out on them.” “Like what?” “According to Netizen they’re not just sponsored by the America’s Future Foundation. The two of them are lab-grown and raised clones. Plus he said he found a bunch of oddball psyche stuff that he couldn’t understand. Too much outside his frame of refrence I guess.” “Damn, that’s kind of creepy.” “Yeah, I mentioned it to James and he said he and some of the others are keeping an eye on the situation.” “Why do you call it him?” “James?” “No, Netizen.”
“I don’t know. He just seems male to me. You’ve never felt he had a gender?” “No, not really. Still its good to know at least someone in our social group who has less of a love life than me.” “Actually he’s involved with the Otaku Collective.” “Are you fucking kidding me?” “Nope. They even have something similar to sex apparently.” “I don’t fucking believe this! A pair of juvenile A.I.s have a better sex life than we do!”
“Well, better than you at any rate.” “Un-fucking-believable! This just…wait. Are saying you’re seeing someone?” “Sort of.” “Who? Is it a civ or one of us?” “Sort of one of us. His name’s Danny O’Bannion.” “Why do I know that name?” “His alias is Caterwaul.” “…”
“YOU’RE DATING A SUPER-VILLIAN?!?”
“Ok, first off we’re not dating. Its more like, well…” “A booty call?”
“I guess.” “And you’re calling me a slut?”
“Point. And he doesn’t know I know.” “Oh?”
“We hooked up at a club a couple weeks back. I didn’t even recognize him at first. I mean he’s not one of our stable of villains, you know?” “Sure, I suppose.” “And even after I figured out where I knew him from I didn’t see the harm. He thinks he’s been hooking up with a college student.” “How old does he think you are?” “Twenty-two.” “Only off by five years. And how old is he?” “Thirty-two.” “Woah. Even with the lie he’s robbing the cradle.” “You’re bringing up age differences?” “Point for you. So?” “So what?” “What’s he like?” “Less aggressive than I would have expected. I was the one who had to initiate things. But once I got things going it was pretty intense. Plus no fumbling around or awkward pauses like I’ve gotten with the few guys my own age.” “What is he doing in your town anyway?”
“He said he was here selling exercise equipment to the local gyms. But I trailed him one morning and it looks like he’s working as a bodyguard for Professor Puzzle.” “So you’ll eventually be taking him down.” “…” “I mean you’re going to have to stop whatever Puzzle’s latest scheme is and take out your new boyfriend. Sounds awkward.”
“Maybe. But it looks like the Prof is planning something in Seattle. Which makes them the Goth or Underwaterer’s problem. I’ll pass word along when it looks like they’re getting ready to leave town.” “I wonder what other villains might cruise the bar scene?”
“Why?” “Well I always thought King of the Beach or Madame Drama were hot. Or even better XeroxMan. Mmmm.”
“You have officially won the Biggest Slut contest you know?”
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A piece of EverQuest fiction written for LJ friend Shrokk:
The bull gator floated slowly in the slow moving of the river. This was its favorite hunting spot, where the edge of the jungle gave way to the swamp. Prey was plentiful here and he’d driven off or devoured any others that would hunt here. This had allowed him to mature and grow to an astonishing eighteen feet in length.
The old bull turned as he scented the faint tang of blood on the water and heard something splashing slightly upriver. He flared his nostrils and took a better scent as he began slowly moving towards the disturbance.
Ah, a kobold was trying to swim his river. And a wounded one at that. The bull twitched his tail and swam faster towards his next meal. Within a few moments he had reached the frantically twitching kobold. With a sudden snap of his powerful jaws he took down the small humanoid.
As he began to swallow the tasty morsel the bull felt a sharp pain in the roof of his mouth. And next he noticed some kind of line leading from his mouth back to the shore. He attempted to swim to the opposite bank, but felt a painful tug from the pain in his mouth. Something was dragging him back towards the wrong shore.
The gator struggled; even attempting to roll and break whatever had caught him. But he was still slowly drawn towards the shoreline. As he was dragged up onto the land the bull saw a large ogre holding the other end of the line that had caught him.
The gator bellowed his challenge and charged his tormentor. The ogre roared in return, dropping the line and charging forward waving a huge hammer.
Shrokk leaned on his war maul and grinned down at the corpse of the giant gator. It had been a good fight. The beast had put up a hard struggle, but Shrokk had again proved himself to be the strongest. Slinging the animal’s tail over one broad shoulder he gathered up his heavy fishing line and dragged his kill back to the camp. In his brute head Shrokk was already counting the silver Old Rocktooth would pay him for all this hide. And Grimeye the Shaman was always willing to buy teeth, especially from a bull gator this large. Plus plenty of meats for gator stew for the next several days. Yum!
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Blame David Brothers for this. Him and Kalinara. I, as usual, am faultless...
( My new DC 'verse OTP )
Remember, blame them. Not me...
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This one goes behind a cut, since its not only a Star Wars fic, but an EROTIC one. Mostly to see if I could write one. Erotica that is, I already knew I could write Star Wars fiction:
( Post-Traumatic Stress Relief )
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| 2008-05-19 09:43 |
| Star Wars fanfics |
| Public |
 pleased |
| Abbott & Costello, Who's on first |
| fanfic, fiction, star wars |
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The first of two longer Star Wars fanfics I've done. Written because Ewoks are AWESOME and TERRIBLE and everyone should accept this:
Yub YubCorporal Torque ran wildly between the gigantic trees. He’d given up trying to radio for help. Like any of the damned officers in the command post would risk themselves out here. Fuck, he thought, where the hell was he? Torque ran the GPS heads up display in his helmet and tried to figure out his position. At the same time he clutched his blaster rifle and tried to keep an eye out for movement in the underbrush. Ok then, he should only be about a ½ mile from one of the speeder bike depots. If he were lucky there’d still be a bike there. Not that today had been lucky. He and the rest of his unit had gone out this morning on a standard patrol. Sure, there had been mention of possible Rebel activity, but those scum were hardly a worry. But then everyone had felt the same way about the Endor natives. The damned fur balls were CUTE for the Emperor’s sake. Of course they weren’t so cute anymore when they ambushed his patrol. The first warning that everything had gone to hell was when a rebel in camo had popped up and put a blaster bolt in the L.T.s back. And then the furry bastards had swarmed them. As Torque blasted his way free of the melee he’d seen Sgt. Moloch go down with a damned ARROW sticking from his throat. And so as the Endorians and Rebels butchered his unit, Torque broke and ran. Abrams and Sulk had gone with him, but Sulk had fallen into some kind of pit trap. And Abrams had gotten himself squashed by a rock dropped form a fucking hang-glider. And the whole time Torque’s communicator was screaming as the same thing happened to every other unit in the field. Those few reinforcements sent out just ran into even more ambushes. He’d finally turned the communicator off in disgust. For a while he thought he’d found a way to safety. He and a half-dozen other troopers had regrouped around an AT-ST. It was simply lovely watching the giant assault walker chase the furry bastards down. And then the evil little fuckers had sent a mess of cut logs rolling down a hill. The AT-ST had gotten tripped up on the wooden cylinders and had gone crashing down. As the walker burned, the Endorians had come charging back in. Torque had barely gotten away again as everyone scattered. He only had one goal now. Get to the shuttle pad, catch a ride up to one of the ships in the orbiting fleet and laugh as a StarDestroyer glassed the moon. As Torque reached the speeder depot he looked around cautiously. No bikes, but no sign of the twisted little fur balls either. He bolted from the tree line, planning to cut across the clearing and continue on to the shuttle port. But before he’d gone even a quarter of the distance he heard the “Yub Yub” cries of the Endorians as a pair stone bolos wrapped around his legs. Torque swore as he crashed to the ground, his blaster rifle slipping from his grip. He turned over, trying to reach his survival knife so he could cut himself free. But before he could draw the blade, two of the Endorians had run up to him on their squat little legs. One picked up his rifle, while the other hefted a large stone axe. The grey and brown-striped alien stared down at Torque with its cold, black button eyes. The Corporal knew better than to plead with this merciless killer. He had time for one last thought as the stone axe came crashing down on his faceplate and he fell into darkness. Fucking low-bid government contractors and their useless damned armor.
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So a drabble is a 100-word piece of fiction. These are a collection of those I had on my LJ.
Jedi vs. Panda
Valric strode thru the bamboo forest. He carried his lightsaber at the ready, but unlit. Somewhere nearby was the man-killer. The monochrome terror. The deadly Space Panda.
As a Jedi Knight it was his duty to bring down this fell beast. He must stop it before it killed again. But the Space Panda was a blank spot to his force senses. He would have to rely on his own wits to find the beast.
Or did he? If he couldn't sense the creature, maybe he could follow its movements in the bamboo. There. Behind him! Valric spun, lightsaber igniting...
Frank Miller's UnderdogI want to quit. I need to quit. Flush these damned white pills away. Be normal. Average. No one. But they call out. Their voices filled with fear. Only I can save them. Only I. Its not the rush. That overcomes me with the speed of lightning. That fills my head with the roar of thunder. No, its not just the rush. Someone has to face them. The ones with greed-filled hearts. Who but me can right these wrongs. So I can't quit. So let them fear. As I come upon them with blinding speed. Let THEM fear! Fear Underdog! UNDERDOG!!!
MulchThingIn the end death embraces all. Everything falls to decay from within and without. As a wise man once said, the center can not hold. Like these two here. They came into my lands seeking to capture me. So they could return me to their masters' experiments. And now they struggle to escape from a morass of clinging mud. They strive, but all their extertions simply bring them closer to finality. But from darkness can come light. From rot can spring life. As their lives end, they will feed me and my domain. Life to death to life, the cycle of MulchThing.
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accomplished
sleepy
awake
contemplative
geeky