This will be thread in question for the microfiction that people want to produce to keep Ruwin's thread free of clutter.
And I'll go ahead and launch it on what I hope are some strong notes:
Dance
It was too easy sometimes.
The thought ran through his head as he kicked back his fifth, no.... sixth drink. He looked, bleary eyed at the glass and then back up at the couple.
It really was too easy.
He knew of both of them, even spoken to them, a word here, a suggestion there. A well timed drink sent to their table with compliments of the gentleman. Or lady, he couldn't really recall right now. He glanced, somewhat surprised at the empty glass in his hand. That'd explain it... He shook his head and lucidity edged back into focus.
In the morning, they'd hate each other, likely be at the other's throat. They were terrible for one another. Hell, their families might even get involved. Wouldn't that be a fantastic boon?
But never mind the morning, for now they thought they'd found love, unconditional and pure. It was all just too damn easy.
As she dragged him onto the dance floor, delight plain on their faces, the Shifter watched them go, raising a new glass to their joy. A sinister smile crept upon his lip and he settled back, looking around for the next challenge.
"That's right my lovelies. Dance for me..."
Reflection
The Duchess stood at the window, staring blindly at the scenery beyond. She could not recall where she was, or for how long she'd been standing there. Her mind was elsewhere, occupied with something she could hardly keep track of in the moment, other portions of her mind concerned with the matter.
Left to her own devices, she stared unseeing at a view that would steal the breath from beings who had seen less. So why was she staring?
It did not amaze her, she did not even see beyond the glass, but why had she been drawn here?
She stared at her reflection and scarcely recognized the creature that stared back. A young woman, very nearly a girl, with beautiful white hair and sharp eyes in a soft face.
Curiously, the reflection reached out and placed a hand on the glass, and the Duchess gazed down mechanically to find her own hand there. Her head swiveled back to her own face and tried to recall where this face had come from. She'd worn it for eons, but she suddenly wished she could recall if it were her own. She quirked her head curiously as a tear ran down her cheek, but for all she could comprehend, she didn't understand why.
Wager
"Okay gents, I'm in a little hurry so I don't have time to win your money the slow way, so I have a proposition."
Alessa flopped heavily into the seat and all three men turned to her. She adjusted her hat and gave them her best disarming grin. When that failed, she unbuttoned the top button of her shirt and that did the trick.
"This is how it'll work, get me three decks and I bet I can pull the three of winds out of each of them in one go. If I win, I get everything on the table."
"What if you don't?"
"Well my good philosopher, then I lose and you get all this." She swept her arms downward, indicating everything she had on her, and if she happened to thrust her chest out a little, what was the harm in that?
"So, who's in?"
The trio exchanged a lascivious grin between themselves and nodded, pushing forward all their chips into one pile in the center of the table. They were so preoccupied, they never thought to ask why Alessa was grinning too.
Ghosts
Cara awoke in a cold sweat, tattoos aching along her arms and back. The bed beneath her was soft, the sheets clean and smooth against her skin. It reminded her of home.
She pushed a lock of golden hair from her eyes and sat there shaking. Something had woken her, a phantom sensation, fleeting but real.
She swallowed and closed her eyes, trying to banish the pinprick memories upon her skin, but for all she struggled, they came rushing back. The air seemed to grow cooler and she drew her knees up to her bare chest, wrapping her arms around them. She ached to take her athame and do something, anything at all, but the only ghosts she couldn't fight were her own. Her eyes opened to slits and the black marks on her arms appeared in the darkness. That reminder was all it took and she choked, sobbing as she pressed her face tight against her knees and cried for the nightmares that haunted her, the memories of her childhood.
_________________
At twilight's end, the shadow's crossed / a new world birthed, the elder lost. Yet on the morn we wake to find / that mem'ry left so far behind. To deafened ears we ask, unseen / "Which is life and which the dream?"
Last edited by Barinellos on Fri Aug 22, 2014 11:30 pm, edited 3 times in total.
This was inspired by Ruwin's "you are not alone" prompt.
The Vow
Tears rolled down both sisters’s pale cheeks as the twins cried without sound.
For minutes, they simply knelt together on the blood-slicked floor, looking at each other, weeping wordlessly. Each held the other’s shaking hands.
Each was the mirror image of the other, except in one regard. A line of small punctures crossed one twin’s brow just below her hairline. The wounds were days old, but they still bled. Thin, red rivulets of blood stood out starkly against the woman’s pale skin.
The unharmed twin could stand it no longer. She let go of one of her sister’s hands. She gathered up the edge of her robe’s long sleeve and, reaching up to her sister’s face, gently mopped away the blood which marred the image of her Other Self.
The bleeding twin tried to remain still, but found it too painful. So she reached across with her own free hand and touched her sister’s face. There was no blood to clean on her sister’s brow. Instead, she ran the tips of her fingers across her sister’s cool, smooth skin, so that the movement of her arm mirrored that of her twin’s.
The wounds on her head hurt, but that pain was not the pain that made her or her Other Self weep.
I am sorry, the unharmed twin thought.
We are sorry, the bleeding twin corrected.
Both sisters bowed their heads slightly. Then they both looked back up. Their four blue eyes met, and, in that moment, the vow was made.
We will never be alone again, they thought.
Their tears stopped. Their eyes turned cold.
We will die first.
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
@Dance: Shifter, you complete, unmitigated douche!
@Reflection: Duchess, you... ... ...Alright, I'm going to leave her alone for now, but I'm still unhappy with her!
@Wager: I am unsure how to react to this story, and so I will say that it most certainly was one, and it most certainly told it in a manner that conveyed the meanings and themes therein in a way I could understand.
@Ghosts: ...Very interesting parallels. Hmm...
@OL
So,
That "we are sorry" line?
Uncool man. Super uncool.
And by uncool I mean, excellent execution of limited space, because wow it certainly packs an emotional punch. Honestly, if not for the title, you could have ended the fic with a slightly edited version of this line:
Quote:
Both sisters bowed their heads slightly.
And then just dropped the mic and walked away. On the other hand, I like that they have interactions among themselves that are important to them. I've been thinking about them like a single entity that cares about "itself" as a unit - but that's not what they are, which is super cool.
Interesting. I seem to have started a little wildfire here. And that's really ironic, because I'm probably the worst of us that's posted so far at micro fiction. Still, I always love getting creativity flowing, and more than that, I love when people post things I actually feel like I have time to read!
Barinellos
Dance: I liked this piece because it showed us a glimpse at some of the motivations for the Shifter. He's in it for the Kicks!
Reflection: Nice, alien, and the Duchess's disconnect from herself is haunting. I like it.
Wager: A good character piece highlighting the, uh, assets, that Alessa is willing to use to her advantage.
Ghosts: Speaking of haunting... Good, though. But haunting.
Orchish
The Vow: Very well done. It's a very powerful piece for a lot of reasons, and really hits you right here. Good stuff.
I'm really glad you liked it. Literally, almost the second I saw your prompt, this image popped into my head, and I kind of had to write it down. So many thanks for providing the spark.
I do think you're right. The story could just say "both sisters bowed their heads," and then we end there, full stop.
My thinking about how Hush-Hush views herself/herselves has kind of evolved in a similar way to what you were describing. At first, I kind of assumed they were a very singular entity, since they would have to be in order to speak and move in unison. For one thing, they'd have to be able to read each other's thoughts. The remaining question was, could they think individual thoughts, or do individual things, if they wanted to? Were their mirrored words and actions a choice they were making, or something which they were incapable of not doing?
For a long time, I assumed it was closer to the second case than the first. Then, the strangest little thing happened to change my thinking:
They had to climb up the ladder to get on Jackie's train.
Well, they couldn't both climb the ladder at once. One would have to go before the other.
And that, of all things, made me realize that they can act separately if they have to. They just don't *want* to. It makes them profoundly uncomfortable to do so, as Jackie found out when she tried to shake their hands individually.
And then Raven asked a rhetorical question about what would happen if the Dual Walkers met Hush-Hush. And I suddenly had this horrifying mental image of someone trying to separate the twins in order to study them, to figure out what made them tick. And I just imagined that this would be the worst pain in the world for Hush-Hush, that being apart would literally hurt them, whereas the way they normally behave -- speaking together, moving together -- is comforting to them.
And, honestly, that was the first ever glimpse I kind of got inside their minds.
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
I was hoping that the imagery would lead to one expectation, but the inversion would pack a punch. Sort of glad that I accomplished that. I hope?
Spoiler
Quote:
@Dance: Shifter, you complete, unmitigated douche!
Dance: I liked this piece because it showed us a glimpse at some of the motivations for the Shifter. He's in it for the Kicks!
I am very amused by Ruwin's reaction. But yes, Raven, even more than the Duchess, he's in it for the hell of it.
Quote:
@Reflection: Duchess, you... ... ...Alright, I'm going to leave her alone for now, but I'm still unhappy with her!
Reflection: Nice, alien, and the Duchess's disconnect from herself is haunting. I like it.
This is easily the one I had the most reservations about, because it was trying to do something so self-contradictory. It's simultaneously humanizing and dehumanizing her. Which makes my brain hurt just thinking about it...
Quote:
@Wager: I am unsure how to react to this story, and so I will say that it most certainly was one, and it most certainly told it in a manner that conveyed the meanings and themes therein in a way I could understand.
Wager: A good character piece highlighting the, uh, assets, that Alessa is willing to use to her advantage.
Might I ask what reservations you possess Ruwin?
Quote:
@Ghosts: ...Very interesting parallels. Hmm...
Ghosts: Speaking of haunting... Good, though. But haunting.
What parallels specifically? The imagery I hope?
_________________
At twilight's end, the shadow's crossed / a new world birthed, the elder lost. Yet on the morn we wake to find / that mem'ry left so far behind. To deafened ears we ask, unseen / "Which is life and which the dream?"
@ The Shifter -- I guess we should have been able to intuit that he would be a mean drunk. I like that he even gets a little Wicked Witch at the end.
Also, I can't explain why, but I just imagine that the jukebox starts playing "Dancing Queen" by ABBA, and he just busts it out on the floor, because that's his jam. I have literally no explanation for this. That was just the song which popped into my head, and it was so obviously wrong, that my brain concluded it must be right.
@ The Duchess -- I always love stories which explore the other side of the coin of the extreme longevity which some of the oldwalkers achieved. No matter how powerful you are, I can't imagine you can live that long and not start to lose hold of your memory, and, with that, your sense of self. I feel like this one is a direct hit on that count.
@ Alessa -- Sigh. I know that's her. And I know that she wouldn't view it as denigrating herself. But it's hard for me to not see it that way. I like Alessa so much, so it always makes me a little uncomfortable to see her like that. Someday, I fear it will go wrong.
@ Cara -- Aaaaaaaaaagh! The Feeeeeeeeeeeels! (It's very good.)
Thanks for posting these!
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
@ The Shifter -- I guess we should have been able to intuit that he would be a mean drunk. I like that he even gets a little Wicked Witch at the end.
Also, I can't explain why, but I just imagine that the jukebox starts playing "Dancing Queen" by ABBA, and he just busts it out on the floor, because that's his jam. I have literally no explanation for this. That was just the song which popped into my head, and it was so obviously wrong, that my brain concluded it must be right.
@ The Duchess -- I always love stories which explore the other side of the coin of the extreme longevity which some of the oldwalkers achieved. No matter how powerful you are, I can't imagine you can live that long and not start to lose hold of your memory, and, with that, your sense of self. I feel like this one is a direct hit on that count.
@ Alessa -- Sigh. I know that's her. And I know that she wouldn't view it as denigrating herself. But it's hard for me to not see it that way. I like Alessa so much, so it always makes me a little uncomfortable to see her like that. Someday, I fear it will go wrong.
@ Cara -- Aaaaaaaaaagh! The Feeeeeeeeeeeels! (It's very good.)
Thanks for posting these!
Spoiler
Dance: Kind of amazing that the shifter can even get drunk, right? And yes, the "Dance my pretties" is just super fun. Completely fits his near Gary Oldman-esque need to chew scenery.
Reflections: I'm really glad this one has been a success. Like I said, I was super pensive about it.
Wager: In fairness, when you know if something will go wrong before you do it, it tends to make you more brazen. Plus she has knives. Lots and lots of knives.
Ghosts: The fact that this one has been so effective means a lot. I won't lie though, I'm really curious how people interpreted the imagery I led with, because I was hoping to subtly shape the expectations of what the story had in store and then really subvert them right in the gut. Obviously, I hit the gut bit, but I'd like to know if I accomplished the other side of that goal.
_________________
At twilight's end, the shadow's crossed / a new world birthed, the elder lost. Yet on the morn we wake to find / that mem'ry left so far behind. To deafened ears we ask, unseen / "Which is life and which the dream?"
Sax had been to enough hangings to know that most men closed their eyes in the second before the lever was pulled.
As he bent his head forward so that the Judge could slip the noose over his neck, Sax resolved not to. He would hold his head high, and he would keep his eyes open, so that the gathered crowd would see that he was not afraid, that he was not ashamed, that he felt no remorse.
His moment of shame and remorse had come the day before, when his eyes had drifted upward from Jane’s body to rest on the white fox. He remembered the shocked, astonished expression on the fox’s face. Sax too had felt shock at first, but his shock had quickly been replaced by other emotions. He had always thought of the fox as a rival, as one of the perpetrators of his misery. But, in that moment, he saw the fox as a victim, too – another soul trapped in the nightmare that was Jane. And he felt a deep sense of shame that the white fox had done what he himself had for so long contemplated doing.
At first, it had been difficult to take the knife, but eventually the white fox had loosened his grip.
Now, as he swept his eyes over the crowd which had gathered to watch him hang, Sax caught a glimpse of the white fox among the assembled faces. His gaze did not linger long, but, for just a second, he caught the white fox’s eyes, and a moment of recognition passed between them. Sax was not sure that all was forgiven, but he felt that a mutual understanding had been established, and that a truce had been agreed.
It was a truce which would not have to last long.
The rope was tight and scratchy around his neck. Sax wondered what the moment itself would be like – if it would hurt, or if he would even be cognizant of what was happening.
On his way to the gallows, a deputy had surreptitiously offered him a flask. But, after a long moment of consideration, Sax had declined it. For once in his life, he would face his troubles sober.
The sun was hot on his face. The crowd was buzzing with nervous anticipation. The Judge had finished speaking. All that was left was the drop.
Sax kept his eyes open, and his head held high.
He heard the sound of the lever being pulled, and was surprised by how peaceful he felt.
He didn’t even blink.
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
Wow. That was very good. I would have thought (as I always had from the song that inspired it) that Sax had done it. This is an interesting bit of information, but a more interesting look at a really powerful moment. I'm fascinated that Sax never uses the name...
Also, on a completely unrelated topic, I'll probably be sending you something in a couple days on a thing I want your input on...(good God that was an ugly sentence. I'll have to give myself a bad grade.)
I always wanted to leave things ambiguous in the story itself, since I think any one of the three people in the room -- Jackie, Trotter, or Sax -- could plausibly have killed Jane, and I wanted people to be able to draw their own conclusions. In my mind, though, I always envisioned Trotter doing it, and Sax claiming responsibility as his final attempt to do a good deed before he died.
I tried to drop little hints along the way without ever forcing my interpretation. For example, Jackie and Sax have incorrect weapons -- Jackie has her gun out, and Sax has a table knife when he goes in the room, whereas he emerges with a penknife. Trotter comments to Jackie in his letter that Sax "should have been an actor" based on his performance on the gallows. Trotter later says to Jackie "I'd kill for you," and Jackie says "I know." And, finally, at the end of "Rest For the Wicked," one of the things Trotter packs in his bag is his little silver penknife.
EDIT: Also, Jane scratching Sax's face just emerged naturally during the course of that encounter, but I always liked that it also provided an explanation for why Sax might have blood on his hands even if he hadn't killed Jane.
But I felt like it was safe at this point for me to share my own theory for what happened without poisoning the well for anyone else.
Also, I'll be happy to offer any input I can!
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
It was not simply the message that filled the king's veins with an icy fury. No, it was the messengers as well. Insult heaped upon injury. The little pink and pale blue creatures were bubbling around the room obnoxiously even now, having abandoned their sense of focus after delivering the polite but firm letter of rejection from the master of the Infinite Library.
Slowly and deliberately, he refolded the paper, creasing it carefully with fingernails that had been coated with pure gold. He placed it carefully into the fire in the brazier next to his throne, reaching into the flames, letting them dance around his flesh. The inks of the message burned in a variety of colors, and he held his hand until every last scrap had been reduced to ash, ensuring that the courtiers and attendants all saw that neither insult nor injury riled or roused their lord.
How could mere flame harm him when inside his blood ran icy cold with fury?
How could a mere librarian stand against the will of King Vasilias?
Of course, for the the moment there were more pressing matters of state to deal with. The king clapped his hand but once and at his command the gargoyles that watched his throne room sprung down and began noisily massacring the obscene agents of the librarian. At once, the next courtier came to attention and, ignoring the violence around him, began his report on various battles raging on countless distant worlds. The king listened calmly and carefully, weighing the profit and loss, considering what planes to bolster and retain and what planes to sacrifice strategically. The sooner he repressed these rebellions the better. Then he could turn his full attention on the Lorekeeper. It would surely not be long before he could extract full restitution for this insult. Not long indeed.
I might add some more description into this later...
If we're making this the more general flash fiction thread, I might have something to add, either if the idea strikes me or between finishing up Night Voices and trying to run a M:EM Adventure.
_________________
"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
If we're making this the more general flash fiction thread, I might have something to add, either if the idea strikes me or between finishing up Night Voices and trying to run a M:EM Adventure.
My understanding is that this is just such a thing, so I'll be excited to see anything you post!
You clever, clever orc. The clues were all right there staring at us. Wow.
Well, like I said, I just wanted to sprinkle little hints without ever establishing them as facts, so I tried to keep it very, very subtle. And I felt okay being a little coy in this case because, while the question of who literally killed Jane is an interesting one, it doesn't affect the subsequent story. Everybody in the room is culpable in one way or another, and the question of who actually strikes the blow provides some character insight, but it isn't essential information. So I wanted to leave people to their own interpretations.
For my version of what happened, I think it reinforces how deeply Trotter cares about Jackie. He knows that Jackie has Jane dead-to-rights here. He doesn't have to do anything. But, he sees Jane turn on Jackie, and he just... reacts. I think it's barely intentional on his part. He just sees his opening, and he acts, because there is some primal part of his brain which is saying "protect Jackie," even though the rest of his brain knows that Jackie doesn't need any protecting here. And it's really the only act of violence he ever commits. Trotter is many things, but he is not a violent person by nature. This is the exception -- he cares that much about Jackie, and he will kill for her.
And, while I would never call Sax a "hero" or even a "good" person, he has his moment of nobility afterward. As much as he hates Trotter -- and I think he really does, so much so that he can hardly bring himself to use Trotter's name -- he also understands better than anyone else how Jane can twist people up and bring out the worst in them. And Sax, who has been suicidal for some time, and who has never been able to bring himself to raise a hand against Jane, even as he watches the destruction which follows in her wake, sees his chance to redeem himself in his own eyes. So, he takes the fall for Trotter. He reasons, why should Trotter's life be ruined for doing the thing which he wishes he had done himself? And I think there is a strain of vanity in there as well. Sax is tired of being seen as Jane's cuckolded plaything. He wants the world to look at him and see the man who stood up to Jane. He wants to feel what that's like, even if it will be a very short-lived experience.
Which, of course, it is.
@ Keeper
BEEBLES!
I swear, beebles are like bacon. They make anything better.
Also, I am now very concerned about Raleris's longevity. I hope the librarian carries the day. I like him a lot.
Nicely done, sir!
_________________
"And remember, I'm pullin' for ya, 'cause we're all in this together." - Red Green
This was fun. I like that you paired two creatures together that are nearly impossible to eat, yet have both been featured as food dishes in either our canon or MTG's. Also, an interesting look at Vasilias in the Before-Time. In the Long, Long Ago. That Raleris does love his Beebles. Well, using them, anyway. He seems perfectly fine allowing them to be brutally destroyed. Of course, that's what Beebles are for!
Morgan arrived on another plane, Larasa at his side, their hands linked. It was the same as before, just like it always had been
“Ar-Pharisid.” Larasa said. By the violet sky with its emerald sun, she was correct.
“No matter how many times,” Morgan said, “Taramir eludes us. Ar-Pharisid, Shang Rasoul, Idylmir, Xantaru, or Norshan – that’s where we always end up.”
He sighed, “We both felt it, the world falling away underneath us, the mountains tumbling down into… nothing. No Planeswalk since then has ever felt like that fall. Maybe it’s because it was our first… maybe there’s something in our way, that keeps shunting off to these neighboring worlds…”
Morgan’s mind raced. As much as he had learned on Taramir and in the planes in general, the mechanics of Dominia were not, in large part, among them. He had heard of the Shard of Twelve Worlds, whispers of something called the ‘planar ceiling’ on some far-off plane… but he wasn’t sure if either of those would feel like this. There was the literal conclusion, of course, the one that had been natural, had occurred almost immediately: the conclusion that their world had ended, and there was nothing left to go to.
But they had tried. And Morgan told himself for Larasa’s sake that they would keep trying. She hadn’t been alone in the darkness – she had had friends, and a family in the Grand Fortress, and he couldn’t tell her she’d never see any of them again.
“I don’t know.” Larasa said, “But whatever it is, whether Taramir is vanished or just lost to us, I think Dominia is telling us something.”
“What’s that?”
Larasa shifted her hand, and twined her fingers with his, holding on for the bond that gesture represented, not for dear life in the depths of the Blind Eternities.
“The two of us?” she said, “We’ve been shown these worlds, full of light and life. I think Dominia is telling us to live.”
Morgan turned, and held Larasa close. When dusk fell, they left Ar-Pharisid behind. They never tried to return to Taramir again.
_________________
"Enjoy your screams, Sarpadia - they will soon be muffled beneath snow and ice."
I'm a (self) published author now! You can find my books on Amazon in Paperback or ebook! The Accursed, a standalone young adult fantasy adventure. Witch Hunters, book one of a young adult Scifi-fantasy trilogy.
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I am unsure how to react to this story, and so I will say that it most certainly was one, and it most certainly told it in a manner that conveyed the meanings and themes therein in a way I could understand.
