Micro and Short Fiction Thread

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Micro and Short Fiction Thread

Postby Victin on Thu Jun 26, 2014 11:23 am

Ok, so, once again I had an idea for a short tidbit that was too long for Twitter, but this time it struck me I could create a thread here for sharing microfiction that's over 140 characters. I don't know if you're going to use it, or if I'm going to use it, but if anything this thread can just die and go to the dreaded second page of the thread archive. I also don't think there should be any enforcement of lenght here of any kind, so from Microfiction Thread I turned it into Micro and Short Fiction Thread. You probably can post anything of any lenght here, even if you feel it's too big, but if it is very close to the 60k character limit for posts or if it's above said limit, perhaps one should create a Medium and Long Fiction Thread to go with that. Perhaps I'll do it myself if I ever write something that can fit there. For future reference, I think said thread would contain a meaningful number of external links for texts that don't fit the character limit, but maybe that's just me.

I'll begin:

"Small white clouds. The sun is shining, hot." As an extension of that, he rubbed the sweat off his forehead.

"Anything else?"

"Uh... The sky is... As blue as always?"

She took a deep breath to avoid any response that could come off as rude. "No. Feel the breeze?"

"Not really."

"Exactly. But look at the clouds. White, sparce and fluffly as a flock of sheep. Moving. See?"

He squinted his eyes. "I think... I think I do."

"Okay, now, what kind of message do you think the gods are sending us?"

"Summer has arrived and we might have rain sometime in the next days?"

"No. I mean, yes. But the message the gods tell us are always deeper than that. They are sending us a fortuitous message, that the rains this summer will start weak, but they warn us they might grow strong, so we should probably harvest the crops earlier and stock before the storms arrive. The sun glows strong, but not too hot, showing us the gods are pleased with our king's righteousness and our people's truthfulness. See?"

"Yes. It's not that hard when you put it that way."

"I've had many years of practice."

"Oh, no... look! Black, spiraling smoke! Is that an omen of bad things to come?"

"No. It's a warning of bad things happening right now."


"No? Yes! Quick, let's search for an official and tell somewhere's on fire!"

As she turned around to leave, he glanced back to the sky and then to the smoke. He was sure he'd never understand any of this divination thing.
Dolphins are some of the smartest animals, yes, but by human standards… Let's say you should praise the god that forces them to stay handless and underwater.
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Re: Micro and Short Fiction Thread

Postby agoraoptera on Thu Jun 26, 2014 12:36 pm

I haven't slept for... I don't know, I didn't keep track.

As a rule, I'm not interested in the past. People want you to be forward-looking and dynamic, not reflective and mopey and-

So, I don't sleep.

More often than not, my clientele assume I'm blind. Fair enough. I'd assume I was blind too, if I were them. Makes sense, with the blindfold and everything.

Put the basket over there, love, there's a darling. Thanks.

They think I don't take it off, but try bathing with a blindfold on, or keep a blindfold on every day and tell me the damn linen doesn't stink. They don't smell how bad it is, mostly because I stop it from happening before it happens.

Look: a drawer full of identical blindfolds. The maestros sartorial had a field day with me; they've never had such a dull customer before. Also, my dress code is uniform. Silken robes of identical cut and fit perfectly: I give them advance notice when I know I'll need a different fit. Good thing for servants, like boy Anlo sitting over there. Also helps that my four other arms don't have to fit within the cloth.

Fact is, I do my oracle schtick when my eyes are closed. Sorry, you misunderstand me. What I mean is, when you close your eyes, you don't see anything. When I close my eyes, I see everything, but in the future, you see? No, you don't, because that's what I see, not you. Hah. And ever since I was blessed, I could never sleep again. I don't get tired, not in that sense, not anymore.

My little temple here sits in a crook on an immense tree; you've had a bit of a climb, obviously. It's out of the way, cosy, with every thing I need (except food). It's also a small joke between me and my Crooked Lord, whose name I'm not able to speak. Bless the Secret-Keeper, and may the Liar God have mercy on this tree. I think he must have twisted it for me to put my temple here; after all, he was the one who showed me where to have the temple. As the saying goes, a tree born crooked never grows straight. It's true, you know; I've checked in the future. Never seen a single crooked branch grow straight.

I know, I know. The life of an oracle isn't all as it's cut out to be, but honestly, it's not too bad. For one thing, I know that the mushroom pies from Marlon's Bakery is going to cause people to have an awful bout of diarrhea today. I told Anlo to get me a chicken pie instead. Not what I'm used to, to be sure, but the novelty is refreshing.

And I'm sure you're tired of me rambling on, supplicant, but you're the first person I've seen in... in too long, and it's become boring rattling on away to myself, and I'm well-aware that if word of this experience gets out, my reputation will suffer, but anyway, let's tackle why you're here. The answer is, well, no. I'm sorry, but it's incurable, and you're going to die.

You can call me cruel, if it makes you feel better. Most return customers don't call me that, but then that's probably why they're return customers. I don't mind if you want to spend some time here to see if you get better (but honestly, I doubt that. You've got a fancier headstone than most.)

Are you leaving? Well, thanks for the offering (you stingy bastard), and be careful! Not that it matters actually, the poor fool, he's actually going to slip and brain himself in a fall. You see, Anlo? He wasn't going to die of that disease. No, Anlo, before you ask, I didn't lie. The disease was incurable, and he was going to die. Just, you know, not from the disease. Yes, I could have told him that, but what's the point? He would have brained himself either way. You don't change the future, because I just told you what's going to happen. People need to learn to accept that I'm an oracle, and not get upset when I tell them what they don't want to hear, like that Delphi whore who fakes divine ecstasy at the sight of gold offerings. But that's another tale, Anlo, and one full of vulgarities you shouldn't have to hear. Now, where was that chicken pie?
If you can make it better, don't make it sentient.

agoraoptera wrote: :| Shane just because I'm Asian doesn't mean I get to be Godzilla

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Re: Micro and Short Fiction Thread

Postby Victin on Fri Jun 27, 2014 10:11 pm

It entered the universe, and instantly fell to the ground. The entity tried to raise one of its two organs, but failed miserably. If it could growl or snarl, it'd have. Instead, it's surface shifted from smooth to rough. Differently from its current immobility, the entity found that intriguing in a non displeasant way. It tried to move again, this time with its other organ. First of all: it failed again. Secondly: it noticed it actually had multiple instances of its second organ. It remembered that back in its universe it only had one. How intriguing.

It tried to move a third time. Nothing. The entity's surface again shifted from smooth to rough. Expected, but yet this new body behavior momentarily filled the entity with discomfort, causing it to flail both organs it had in all directions. Surprisingly, the entity managed to move. It repeated the flailing, and discovered that in this universe, if you wanted to move, you had to apply force in the opposite direction you wanted to move to. How unpractical.

Using its second organ, which function was and always have been to interact with the outside world, it managed to stand up. However, the entity noticed that it seemed to be in a tight space. The torus-shaped universe it was in now was small, it was the first thing it noticed about it. But it was also expanding, rapidly - At least in relation to the fastest thing inside itself, which would need an infinite amount of energy if it wanted to move as fast as its universe expanded. Perhaps when entering, the entity miscalculated how big it'd be inside. It tried to change its body to the shape of a torus, to test said theory, but it realized it couldn't change its shape. How weird.

Using its first organ, which it used to interact with the same, it peeked inside its existence and realized the problem: itself didn't exist in the universe it wasn't invited to enter. It was an invader, and for not having an existence in this universe, it apparently just borrowed or stole some other being's. Not expressing nor lacking care of any kind, it simply use the organ it had one of to better adjust its existence. It settled for a smooth but solid surface had multiple instances of its second organ all over it, and it could open, revealing a viscous white ooze that was its self-interacting organ.

The invader realized afterwards the process changed the original appearance of the environment around itself. It'd have to pay more attention to not interact this much with the outside world. It found unpleasant, though, how the outside world kept trying to probe into itself. The entity decided to take a better look as of why and discovered this universe is composed of small particles that don't touch each other, they merely interact from distance. How unpleasant, it thought. It seems this universe never allows particles to touch each other. The invader wondered if it would feel the same way if the same were true for its original universe. Surely it rarely interacted with the others, but when it did, it was always by choice. Only now it realized how it found that fact pleasant.

Ahhh... Its original universe. It was beautiful. By beautiful, it meant the physical appearance of the universe - a beautiful fractal composed solely of rings. Life in it was... Uneventful. Not unpleasant - only sometimes - but monotonous was preferable to unpleasant at any time. It never enjoyed it, but it prefered it. However, just recently it collided with another universe. The invader, and the others that lived in the universe, found this new event quite fascinating, and decided to stay inside and observe the impact in its full glory.

At first, the other universe looked like a sphere. Then, it looked like an imperfect sphere, making the invader wonder if such spheres were mathematically possible. Finally, it revealed itself as an amorphous blob. Perhaps it had a shape, but it was definitely a not-sphere disguising itself as a sphere. The entity should have known it was pretentious by then. The collision happened as the not-sphere passed through one of the rings, and was now inside and outside the invader's home universe. One swallowed the other and both became one.

Strangely, it seemed... Unpleasant. As if it were two things in one. The invader decided to check, and from a superposition of states it became alive. Sentient. Displeased at the beings living inside it. An unpleasant company. The entity simply decided to leave and find a new home, perhaps one without superposition of states and unpleasant neighbors. Better wish it good luck next time.
Dolphins are some of the smartest animals, yes, but by human standards… Let's say you should praise the god that forces them to stay handless and underwater.
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Re: Micro and Short Fiction Thread

Postby Krika on Sun Jun 29, 2014 1:18 am

Entry #31:

It was my turn to run patrol, so I’m on the way back from spending a few hours running around past what used to be Oldale. Whenever I head out here, I can only think about how damn lucky we are to be eking out survival here. Oldale, Littleroot….they just got flattened when the water came in. If it weren’t for Dad’s gym and the Center being multi-story…..well, let’s not think about that. Well, let’s think about it in the sense of being glad we have what we do, not what we could have had or don’t.

We’re surviving out here well enough, though. Dad’s Linoone is still listening to me (for how much we I didn’t like it when I was young, having it be so imprinted on me is paying off big-time). May’s spending a lot of her time working with her Treecko, trying to get it to evolve, I guess. She’s been throwing herself into work more and more. It’s kinda crazy what she puts herself through, and how tired she is at the end of the day. She was always a heavy sleeper, but now we can roll her off the bed and she won’t budge. Still, she managed to shore up the ceiling properly. Not having it leak on us when the storms get heavy? Awesome.

Wally’s been officially disallowed from going out on patrol. After he spent over an entire day gone with the boat, because he got into one of his sessions with his Ralts, May and I both put our feet down. Nowadays, when he’s not whatever help he’s able to do, he just sits and stares at that dammed Ralts. I swear I’ve felt niggings in my head when it looks at me. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if anything productive came out of it, but all we get is both religion and vague warnings out of him.

Crap, it looks like there’s a swarm of Surskit off to the side. I’d better stop writing and try to avoid them. Brenden out.

Entry #34:

May brought up leaving again. There’s nothing new with that, she’s been saying stuff like this since day 1. I think she just doesn't want to live in the same town that her dad died in, but...where else can we go, really? Oldale and Littleroot are gone, and to get to Rusboro we’d have to go through Petalburg Woods. Normally, I’d be all for the woods, but now that Dad and Roxanne probably aren’t helping keep some of the paths clear, and with all the changes that’ve happened, I don’t know if it’s even possible for us to traverse it. May’s got a Grovyle now, but with how many Bugs that lived in there, she and Wally aren’t going to have much they can do in terms of fighting, and Linoone, while fast, can’t fly. We’re safe enough here, we can hold out for a while.

This time, though, Wally took her side. Normally he just lets us argue about this, but now...he was...unsettling. I’ve never seen him so lucid and yet so not there anymore. He’d been on his fourth hour staring at Ralts, and then right in the middle of our argument, he stands up and walks between him. We both looked at him, more out of surprise than anything else I think. Usually it takes food or similar to get him away from his Pokémon. He wasn’t even looking at us, just staring with eyes that didn’t even seem to be seeing anything, and just said “They will clash. We must flee.”

Of course May grabbed that, and invoked our democracy rule. I’ve been outvoted, so...we’re getting packed up and ready to go. We’ll probably be leaving in a week or so, and head north right away, try and skirt around the edges of the Forest, because like hell we’re going into the center of it. May’s fixing up outriggers for the boat, so we can carry more stuff safely, and I’m packing. Wally’s….back to staring.

So yeah. For however much this place was home, for better or for worse, we’re leaving. Arceus protect us.

Excerpt of a journal, found on the outskirts of Petalburg Woods by the Hoenn Reclamation Force. The remains of a motorboat were also found at the site. Preservation attributed to the large amount of webbing covering the entire site.
>Narra has tiny jerk people in her socks.
>We are affirming our collective jerkhood by committing genocide on them.
>I'm going to read the logs and pray that that sentence makes more sense in context
>No it does not
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Re: Micro and Short Fiction Thread

Postby agoraoptera on Wed Aug 27, 2014 10:24 am

Elbrus stood on the cliff's edge, watching as the city below perished in an inferno. A lone flame, vaguely humanoid-shaped, hovered above even the highest tower and bestowed incendiary death upon the cityfolk. Paved streets turned bright vermilion as the cobblestones melted to magma. People, little more than black spots from this distance, were devoured hundreds at a time by the conflagrations.

The city was burning, and it wasn't going to be the only one. Elbrus loved watching Jiora at work.

"At times like this," Elbrus remarked, hearing the hum of a portal open behind him, "I almost forget she's got as much fire in her as she does ice, eh?"

"Damn you, Elbrus."

Elbrus turned with a slight bow. "My dear old friend Jarad, whatever's gotten into you? Between Jiora and Aurelia, I fancy that we'll be the last four- 'scuse me, five including Azur- last five people on this dull world by this time tomorrow. Though perhaps Jiora will take her own time. I'm sure Aurelia will be efficient."

Jarad's eyes glowed green in one and black in the other, with similarly coloured emanations pulsing from his chest.

"You're not going to get away with this, Elbrus. You're going to pay for what you've done." Jarad raised a hand and an ironwood staff materialised within his grasp.

"But my friend," Elbrus replied innocuously, "I'm not the one you ought to seek. Blame Azur for convincing us."

Jarad replied with a bolt of jade energy flung from his staff. Elbrus dodged, rolling to the side, and grinned. Drawing a small midnight dagger, he stabbed the blade into his own throat and gurgled as frothy blood began pouring from the wound. The blood rapidly turned the same shade as the dagger, and from the blade curled up writhing wreaths of dark mist. The fog swelled up and within moments completely obscured Elbrus. Jarad fired off several more bolts, but the green energy vanished within the mist.

An opaque form three times Elbrus' size burst out straight at Jarad, bowling him over. Elbrus leered at Jarad, his face turned into a demonic visage replete with spikes and horns, then grabbed the shaman and flung him away. Jarad flipped backwards and regained his balance, using the momentum to put some distance between him and his one-time friend. Stabbing his staff into the ground, he raised a wall of thorns dripping with milky venom. With a gesture, the thorns uprooted themselves and gathered into a motile mass of vegetation. Before it could strike, Elbrus charged right through the wall, cackling maniacally, heedless of the damage his now-ebon skin was taking.

Jarad's eyes widened, and he barely conjured a seething shield of black in time to block Elbrus' charge. The demon crashed into the dark shield and, with a tremendous flap of his leathery wings, rose above Jarad, then struck down with razor-sharp talons. The shaman took the blow to his right forearm, but with the entire limb covered in the black mana, Elbrus' claws failed to make even a scratch and the demon backed off.

"You can't kill me that way," Jarad said defiantly. "The same power that runs in me runs in you."

"Then it's a good thing," remarked Elbrus, his voice now a malicious baroque, "that we have two."

Elbrus charged once more, barreling to his foe even as Jarad conjured up the same black barrier. Just before Elbrus could crash into the shield, he shed off his demonic form to reveal a brilliant white radiance. His leathery wings now pristine feathers and with a opalescent sword in hand, Elbrus tore through the barrier and swung his sword at Jarad.

Jarad in turn leapt over Elbrus' head, striking at the angel's back with his staff. Elbrus stumbled forward, slave to his own momentum, and Jarad followed up with a green-gloved punch. The viridescent mana surged into Elbrus' spine and the angel shuddered in pain. Light poured out from the wound with such intensity that Jarad had to cover his eyes even through his closed lids, and suddenly Elbrus was back in the air, wings seemingly stretching on forever.

"Every soul that believed in light and hope lies here," Elbrus said, pointing to his chest. Then the radiance molted away, revealing the demon again. "And every soul that lived a life of darkness and misery is here," he smiled cruelly. "With Aurelia and Jiora doing their work, I grow stronger by the second. You can't win."

"You talk too much."

Green mana erupted around Elbrus to form a cage, rapidly coalescing into solid wood covered in spines. The twisting trunks crushed Elbrus' arms and legs before he could react and he roared as much in anger as in pain. He flapped his wings desperately, but vines curled about his pinions and bound him, robbing him of even the slightest bit of leverage to break free.

Jarad breathed heavily from the exertion the spellcraft took on him, ignoring Elbrus' rage as the demon-angel sought to escape. Eventually, Elbrus stopped struggling, and shifted into his angelic form.

"This won't hold me forever, Jarad," Elbrus said serenely, as the radiance poured from him with greater intensity. "I'll burn this away soon enough, and then I'll get you."

"I'll stop Jiora and Aurelia, and by then it won't matter that you've gotten free."

"Stop Jiora?" Elbrus chuckled. "Well, good luck with that. She's been cold lately."

Jarad whirled around to see the city below entirely frozen over, left in a gleaming block of ice. Jiora, previously destroying the city from above, was nowhere to be seen.

"Have fun," Elbrus called out cheerfully as Jarad made to leave. "I'll be after you soon."
If you can make it better, don't make it sentient.

agoraoptera wrote: :| Shane just because I'm Asian doesn't mean I get to be Godzilla

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