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Wild Tangents - When writers attack!
This it the place for our writers to post short stories of their own. They may relate to the fanfic or something completely different. ANYTHING GOES so beware!!
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"There is no point in running yourself down. There are thousands in the world more than willing to do that for you." -Louis Grizzard
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7/22/2004, 4:11 pm
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Send PM to vaspres
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An alternate reality.The Dark Wanderer Part 1:Breaking the law.
((First off: this is an off shoot story that is not actually part of the NEFF. I will be using this portion to occasionally deal with my problems in RL. If you dont like this one, well just skip over any of my stories titled Dark Wanderer.))
It was a normal morning for Rory. He woke in his bed at the Last Knight's Daze, he rolled out of bed to find Motoko already dressed and meditating. That’s where the normalcy of the day ended. There was a sudden pounding on the door, just before the King's Guard burst into the room, swords and spells at the ready. "Rory, we have a warrant for your arrest," proclaimed the leading knight pompously. Being a law abiding citizen, Rory allowed himself to be slammed to the ground and bound in shackles. He took some satisfaction in the knowledge that he could shatter his bonds easily should he choose, but otherwise made no attempts to hinder the Kingsmen. Motoko was in a fighting stance when one of the guards approached her. The look she gave him made him take several steps backwards. "Motoko, don't worry. I'm sure all of this will be straitened out in due time." Seeing that he was not getting through yet, he tried again.
"Motoko I want you to go tell Kevin and the others what is happening." She looked at him strangely for a moment then walked past the kingsmen, who gave her a wide berth. When she was gone, he asked, "what is all this about gentlemen?"
"You shut yer mouth filth! Speak when spoken too," said one of the guards standing over him, who then planted a foot on one of his kidneys.
Rory was going to wait to have everything cleared up the right way, really he was, but then they overturned his sword rack, spilling his collection to the stone floor. Forbidden Song landed closer to him than any others, the blade longed for its master. Seeing it, the nasty guard took his foot off of Rory and picked it up by the scabbard. Rory reached out to the blade with his mind 'Kill' was the only thought he gave it. As the nasty guard drew the blade its magic was released. He screamed a bloodcurdling cry that would have given children nightmares, trying desperately to fling the sword away from himself, to no avail. He crumpled to the floor as though he were boneless, which he was effectively. Forbidden Song had shattered all of his bones to dust, and sundered his eardrums. He suffocated as the weight of his chest crushed the air from his lungs. The other guards had stood, speechless and stunned as he died, and now locked eyes on Rory with murderous intent. Enough was enough. 8 men against himself was neither far nor healthy while he was bound.
Rory shattered his bonds, the spell for stoneskin blazing though his mind, he formed the signs and spoke the words just before the first of their blades came crashing down. 'How odd, really, I was expecting to be treated fairly by the authorities, especially since I am a member of the guard. I guess there is no bill of rights here. A pity...for them. I have a short temper.' Paaaang! The first sword blow rang off of his temporary skin as he launched himself to his feet. Swinging his newly hardened form, Rory watched in delight as the closest kingsman's helm caved in under his fist aluminum foil hit with a hammer. 'Truly a marvelous spell,' he thought to himself. The heavy armored trooper with the battle axe was next, striking a downward blow that should have split Rory in half from nose to navel. Instead the ax shattered, and Rory stomped the man's armored foot into a bloody pulp. An elbow to his face sent him reeling away, then Rory moved on to his next victim. Like wheat before the scythe each of them fell until only the leader remained. Rory pinned the man to the wall and lifted him off his feet before asking, "Where is your edict?" The guard fumbled in his pouch for a moment, then presented Rory with a small scroll. It read:
"For suspicion of smuggling, and treason, Rory the guardsman is to be arrested and imprisoned, and his possessions seized until such time as the court deems fit to see his case." The edict was signed by the king, and there was a note at the bottom “All possessions are to be brought to me for inspection.”
Rory had forgotten about his temporary increase of strength, and looked up form the note only to realize he had crushed the commanding officer’s windpipe while reading the note. A few hours latter that day, the stones a in the roof above the king gave way, miraculously no one else was harmed, but the king was crushed. Rory looked back over his shoulder at the city of Ohfun only once as he left, wishing for a moment that the peace he had found there could have lasted. The scrawled note he left behind told the others what he had done, and that he needed time to come to grips with himself. It was a lie really, Rory felt no more remorse for killing the guards and the king than someone else might have for stepping on a ****roach. It was not likely that the other would be able to accept him now. He turned his feet back to the road, leaving everything he loved behind him.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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7/22/2004, 4:15 pm
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Send PM to roblade
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Re: Wild Tangents - When writers attack!
O_o OOOOOOkay.
I've read your piece again and have given it a couple of days to sink in and it still disturbs me. Keeping such hostility and a need for wanton violence pent up inside you is not healthy! If you don't mind some advice from me, I'd suggest talking to either a counselor or a pastor. Harboring such hate and disdain will do nothing more than eat you alive. I know, believe me. I felt very much the same way right after my divorce. You're too good a person to let such feelings destroy you.
Last edited by GoddessUrd, 7/25/2004, 9:08 am
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It's not what you do in life as much as what you do with your life.
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7/23/2004, 9:39 pm
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Re: Wild Tangents - When writers attack!
*Rolls on floor laughing* This is my therapy. I write it and then I don't feel so angry.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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7/25/2004, 9:31 pm
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Wowsers!!
I never knew you cared!! *^o^*
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It's not what you do in life as much as what you do with your life.
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8/1/2004, 9:38 pm
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Failia
Global user
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*in shock* + my character/story: Lonely Wanderer
After much consideration, finally time I posted, ne? ^_~
So why not post, to this extremely good short story? ^^
It is really good... something that brightens a saddened day..
But anyways, hope theres more to come ^___~
(This is not exactly a story as such, but more of a character I had to make up for a project... a few days ago.. Thought to share it with you all, even if it's not that good)
Deep brown eyes gaze into the far darkness as though searching for something. An unknown puzzle waiting to be solved or maybe just to heal the pain deep within himself. Curly black waves of hair fall across his sandy face, defining his features. He has designer stubble on a strong chin with high cheekbones, lending an air of mystery to his face. His slightly upturned eyes bring the illusion of the East to his countenance.
As he slowly walks into the shadows of a nearby alleyway, you hear the rustling of his black, leather trench coat behind him. Whispering deep secrets into the night. Long, lithe, sinuous legs encased in form-fitting jeans, carry his body as though walking on air. The black shirt he wears; almost non-visible amongst the dark but with the moon’s shining light, it is as distinctive as a dewdrop on a ponga tree, is opened three buttons down from the collar, displaying the heavy gold chain that hangs down his chest.
His mind wanders deep within thought as he keeps walking. Not knowing where he is going, but not caring in the least. Finally entering a secluded park, he strolls over to a familiar swing and sits downs, swaying gently with the wind. He often used to come here as a child with his brother and mum. “Why did I come here? Why do I have to recall all these memories? I would rather keep them locked away inside a cell without a key, never to come out then to have to live with this pain for the rest of my life.” He softly mused.
A sad look suddenly appears in his almost black, but brown eyes. Just as a child does when they have lost something close to them. Indeed, he has lost something special. Something so close to him, it cuts him deeper and deeper every time he thinks of it. As he vividly remembers the hidden truth, a single tear, drops down just like the lonely dewdrop sitting quietly on a leaf in the morning.
Remembering the time, months before. Hearing her mouth form her last few words, barely into a whisper, before the dagger being thrust deep into her chest. Her heart. Nothing was sweeter than her, nothing on this earth compared to her. Her sweet and gentle smile. Bubbly personality, with a kind nature. Not a model body, but soft enough to hold. Always there for him, whenever he needed her. Always willing to put her life on hold, freezing time, to be there by his side. Now she was gone forever. Never to come back. Not even a goodbye before vanishing completely from this earth.
As tear after tear keeps falling, not knowing when to stop, as the waterfall never does, a sudden warmth wraps around him. “Cry” it barely whispers into his ear like an angel. “Cry until you feel better. I will hold you and lend my shoulder until you have shed every tear and healed the wounds in your heart. I will always be here for you. I will always remember you, love. Be strong. Be strong for me.”
Last edited by Failia, 8/2/2004, 2:52 pm
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If you have one single dream, go for it, you don't know where it might lead you...
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8/2/2004, 2:39 pm
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Send PM to Failia
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Re: Shock
WOW!!
That was such a beautiful piece! Very visual and powerful! I don't want to pressure you or anything, but I can't wait for the day you post to the actual fanfic. If your writing is a wonderful as this piece, we are surely in for a real treat!! 
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"There is no point in running yourself down. There are thousands in the world more than willing to do that for you." -Louis Grizzard
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8/2/2004, 3:55 pm
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Send PM to vaspres
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Re: Wild Tangents - Holy cow.
Wow. I leave town for 2 weeks and look what I find when I come back? A beautiful new story. And a very competent new writer. Welcome to the team Failia. I extect more writing from you when I get back form this next hitch.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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8/6/2004, 5:49 pm
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Send PM to roblade
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Dark wanderer Chapter 2.
Forest of the Damned, Never empty, always alone.
"I've become so numb I can't feel you there," Rory stopped singing to himself as he neared his destination. The Forest of the Damned had again opened its demon gate and belched forth a hell spawned entity.
"Another day another demon," Rory said to himself, smiling. He and Motoko had shared some secrets. Well mostly she had instructed him on Ki blasts and such things. He was itching to try out the new weapons at his disposal, including the spell effect teleportation spell that Iala had taught him. And with the money this was worth to the locals, he would be able to afford some new furniture, and a few other things, besides being set for rent for months to come. 12 hundred gold for one demon, and it wasn't even Atronox.
"Lucky, lucky, lucky," he babbled to himself as he walked, thinking about Lina Inverse. Soon he came to a clearing, near a rock face with the demon gate carved into it.
He was right on time, as the runes were just starting to bleed. The blood swirled along the rock at the center of the circle, pooling flat on the wall. One large scaled foot pushed its way through the blood, followed by a wing tip and a hand as the demon came slowly through the gate.
When he had emerged from the portal he looked around and stretched mightily, arrogant in his calmness. Like all demons, enjoying putting on a show for the human before him.
"Grovel before me worm, and I shall spare you life so that you may do my bidding," said the demon, in a deep hollow booming voice. Rory scratched at the day’s scruff on his cheek, and then ran a hand through his hair, looking as if deep in consideration.
"Nope.How about you turning tail and going back to Hell, tell them 3 high priests fought you back into the underworld, and maybe I won’t have to ruff you up. You see I have a nice hot little woman waiting for me at home and a pot of gumbo slow cooking. I want to get home quick, so I'm gona make you an offa you can't refuse." The last was spoken in a horrible Italian accent.
"And Just how will a puny mortal like you RUFF up a demon?" the fiend asked amused.
"The same way I did with Atronox, I’ll start with my hands,” faster than a thought Rory slid into the demon elbowing it in the solarplexes, and releasing a blast of his Ki. The demon roared and stumbled back, obviously pained more by the fact that he had been struck than by the blow itself.
"And when I counter the same way?" The demon roared, smiting Rory with unholy strength. He slid back caughing,"plan B," he said and released a lightening bold that paralyzed the demon for a moment. Rory drew his blade and saluted his opponent. Dancing in to slice open first one wing then the other, insuring that the demon couldn't fly off on him. The penalization faded quickly and Rory had to doge flip and roll before the stone shattering blows of the demon. "I am Rory, slayer of Atronox, who are you demon?"
"I am Saratorn, ninetieth champion of Hell, demon of the seventh circle, come to rape and pillage in the name of the dark lord."
"Wow what a mouth full. I think I'll
Just call you Suzan and slap you around for a while." Rory slapped the demon on each cheek with the flat of his sword, then put his back against a tree and waited for the charge he knew was coming. At the last moment he jumped straight over the fiend, letting it slam face first into the trunk of the tree.
Rory did a little tap dance on its head and shoulders then jumped down and stabbed it's left butt cheek deeply, releasing a bolt of Ki into the wound. Saratorn screamed in rage and pain wheeling around and lunging at Rory who danced out of the way and then stabbed his right butt cheek, releasing another bolt of Ki.
The beast was blasted back against the granite cliff wall, sending a shower of stone fragments cascading down around it. The beast roared its defiance, its black wings and their blood red talons clawing at the air as the demon struggled to pull it off of the rocks.
"That was an advanced Ki blast, directed through my sword. Now are you thinking that you should have taken my proposal, and gone back to the underworld without a fight?" Rory taunted the demon, goading it into headlong charges had thus far been working exceedingly well. Tiring of the game, the demon Saratorn lobed a fireball at Rory.
"Ever seen what happens when a rock is superheated in an instant?” cried Rory, as he teleported the fireball into the rock right behind Saratorn. The expansion caused by the heat created a bulge in the wall that soon exploded outward like it had been blasted out by syntax. Razor sharp rocks flew through the air, lacerating the demons back and driving it away from the wall, straight onto Rory's outstretched sword.
Saratorn looked past him for a moment, and then began a dreadful, blood-soaked coughing laugh. The evil glee confused Rory for a moment as he pondered what the dieing fiend could have found so amusing.
"There is a special place for such as you where I am from Childslayer, and my brethren will now welcome you to our number with open arms." His deep hollow voice brought chills up Rory's spine. He reversed his grip on Forbidden song and pulled it free of the demon's chest, only to thread it back in, driving it through both of the demon's lungs. Saratorn died with that evil smile still on its face.
Rory looked around at the devastation caused by his last spell, the demon's body had shielded him from all of the fragments, but all around him the forest was layed to waste. Trees were riddled with pockmarks where shrapnel had torn into them, some hand been sundered, splintered even by larger chunks. He heard crying. A child crying.
"Oh god no," he ran to ward the sound as fast as his legs would carry him, past the blasted desolation, about a hundred feet into the forest. Lying there, in a sea of crimson, was an elf child, her face streaked with tears, a gaping hole in her stomach that she was trying to hold closed. Rory couldn't even breath, couldn't draw breath to scream, tears flowed from his eyes, as he knelt by her side. She was so pale, she might have been a ghost, but for the crimson stain. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with tears, and she mouthed "I'm scared," before he could even comfort her, she was gone her soul flying from her ruined body.
Wordless he screamed, raw and terrible was his pain. Animals started from their habits, running from the sound of mortal agony, flooding away from him as they would a forest fire. Empty, he clutched the form of the dead elfchild to him, rocking her, rocking himself.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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9/21/2004, 11:20 pm
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A spell for a Scott.
It was getting rather rediculus, thought Rory, that a 10 year old child could beat Scott up with impunity because of his beleifs. Rory had to give Scott credit for sticking to his pacifism even when he was getting the snott pounded out of him, but he should have SOME nonviolent means of protecting himself. Rory had been working on crafting the templet of a spell that would do just that, and one simple enough that even Scott couldn't botch it up.
What they had come up with was extraordinary. And usless to anyone with any intentions to do physical or emotional harm to another person. Besides Scott Rory was not sure there was another person alive who could use the spell.
The first difficulty had been to find something Scott would actually use, it couldn't injure another, nor could it allow them to be injured, otherwise Scott wouldn't use it. Since Scott couldn't work his power as well as some others, it had to almost use itself, targeting, area of effect, duration, by various means all had been linked to the way Scott was reacting to his environment.
Iala, Urd, Belldandy, and the local wizards guild had been hard at work for 2 weeks now, Rory directing the formation of the effects and leting others worry about the how to. The plan had gone fairly well, now all they needed was a name and key words that could trigger it.
"I call it Way Avoiding Killing or Injuring Non Good Dudes Really Easily Awesome Magic." There was a chorus of groans and booing from the gathered asymbly.Rory continued loudly.
"Well I worked backwards from the anagram, damn it, gimme a break. The Key word will be the anagram. WAKING DREAM." This was met with much applause. The Anagram was so very appropreate. The spell caused anyone Scott thought was about to hurt him physically to fall into a deep restful sleep filled with pleasent dreams of puppy dogs and kittens, or of glowing butterflies. It also put a statis field around the person as long as they stayed asleep, using their own spark of life, and lasted until such time as Scott knew they wouldn't hurt him, or 24 hours was up. The spell worked because it could bypass a body's natural resistance to harmful magics. Scott's intentions were carried clear across the spell, allowing it to function, completely nonviolently, to protect both Scott and his attacker. Only someone who ment no harm could ever use the spell. It was a marvel of magical engineering. And now all Rory and Belldandy had to do was convince Scott to accept it. Otherwise all the time, money, and effort they had put into it would be wasted.
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Gats: But I didn't bring a flame
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Squall Leonhart: "My dream wasn't nice, I dreamed I was a moron."
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11/6/2004, 2:10 am
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