|
Yolo! In, flash please.
|
#
¿
Oct 21, 2021 19:29
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 16, 2024 20:46 |
|
|
Flash: Private Investigator Mr. Tlacuatzin 1418 words "Even you can do this," Brian had said. "It's just a simple surveillance job. Sit on this malingering mailman, find intel that he's fit for work. You'll be done in a day,” he paused and narrowed his eyes. “Maybe two. Take the minivan and you could nap in the back if you get tired again." He’d put on a stupid faux-concerned voice and clasped his hands, as if he wasn’t Mean Girls-ing me about dragging recently. You try supporting three kids while going through a divorce and learning a new job without being tired, Brian. But I took the goddamned minivan. Soccer mom vibes mean the neighbors won’t get heated, and that back bench seat’s good for surveillance. Not for napping. The target haltingly emerged from the front door, using a hand to shield his eyes from the light. A long nose protruded from his scruffy white beard and his grey hair stuck up at all angles as he shuffled onto his porch to dig in the mailbox and grab the newspaper. Reminded me of the old homeless guy who rummages through our trash for aluminium cans. The way he moved, either that injury was bad or he was still remembering to fake it. I investigated the docs in our discovery app and found a photo: a triangular bite to the calf. I could make out the imprints of many sharp teeth on the edge of the wound. Deep. Some tiny little yapping dog with long skinny jaws and a grip like a shark. *** I wake up on the bench seat in streetlight-perforated darkness. gently caress! What time is it? The babysitter can only pick up my responsibilities until midnight, and - I look over to the dashboard clock, but my eye catches on a figure sneaking around the corner of the guy’s fence. He’s lost the limp and is moving with more purpose, but there’s that unmistakable long nose. It dominates his silhouette, looking more like a beak from this distance. Perfect. I can get some pictures to toast this guy and get Brian off my back. I slip out of the van and hustle across the road, sidestepping a group of knocked over trash cans and pulling my camera app up as I slip onto the trail behind his house, looking for a shot. Too dark. I can make him out scurrying ahead of me, grabbing something from the side of the trail and popping it into his mouth as he stoops under the branches that hang overhead, but the camera sees nothing. Something is dragging behind him, rustling and leaving a furrow in the mud. He slows, hunching, pauses at the edge of a puddle. He seems to be trembling now, almost cowering, down on all fours. I’m willing him to move forwards just a bit so I can get a photograph as he rolls sideways to collapse into the mix of leaves and mud on the side of the trail. poo poo. “You okay?” I call. “You need help?” I rush up and crouch beside him. I reach for where his shoulder should be, but I can’t make sense of his anatomy in the dark, so I grab at his body and shake him. I roll him onto his back and turn his face towards me, a pale shape with a gaping drooling dark slit filled with sharp teeth. I hear his choking gasps, his hissing breath. Peer into his mouth to try to see what he’s choking on, but the light of the full moon isn’t strong enough, not like those noir books would have you believe. I need a red loving flashlight like we used for nightime nature walks. In the beady black circles of his eyes I recognize the frightened animal look of fear. Nodding grimly, I push my hand into the maw. Gotta clear his throat. My fingers scrape on his teeth as I reach back. No! I should have swept a finger, like the baby first aid videos said. But he opens his mouth full wide - much too wide - and at the edge of the mass of frothing spit my fingertips feel something different, mushy, grainy. I push further through the applesauce-thick goop and into the pulp behind. I touch something thick like rind, and I curl my fingers around and it moves, this chunk of apple slipping sideways, he’s gagging, hissing, his skinny arms flailing, the bristly fur on his scrawny hands scraping against my arm as he claws at me, my fingers in his throat as i try to sweep, grab it, catch an edge with my fingertips, rotate it, scrape the nail of my middle finger into flesh to pull it forwards, index finger hooking behind to wriggle the core, sliding it free of his throat. I scoop it forwards and out of his muzzle-like mouth and onto the mud of the trail and he gasps and I can start to breathe again too. His head flops to the side, showing a large, wrinkled, black ear. Under the whiskers his face is obviously malformed, his jaw a pointed snout. He smells foul, too, and as my stomach churns I stand up and back up a step. “Hey,” I insist. “Get up.” He lies still. I watch his grotesque shape in the darkness, determine that he’s breathing slow and shallow, then nudge him with my foot. “Stop playing possum and at least let me help you get indoors.” The bile rises in my throat as I catch another wave of the inhuman stench. I turn away and vomit into the bushes before grabbing a Kleenex out of my sleeve and wiping my mouth. I notice the blood on my knuckles and rub them clean, too, wincing when I realize how badly they’re scraped. When I turn back he’s gone, and I sag in relief. He’ll recognize me if he sees me again, so I won’t be able to surveil him any more. I’m glad for an excuse to not see that monstrous face again, though getting burned on my first stakeout stings. But maybe this is a reason to stick to garbology, trash diving and scavenging for clues. Out at night, exploring, finding treasures in the trash. A nice regular gig. I hop into my car and comb through the litter in the passenger seat looking for a snack. I turn up the end of a burrito from yesterday and devour it in a couple of bites before rooting into the footwell and scraping together a handful of week-old french fries from the carpet. The full moon seems brighter after I eat. I can see everything better, making my drive home smoother. Back at the apartment by midnight, I relieve the babysitter and hustle her to the door. I need to be alone. Solitary. Grabbing a handful of stale gummy worms from the cupboard, I head into the nursery and look at my babies. I scoop one twin from their crib, hugging him against my body. He grumbles awake and begins to squall, but I hum to soothe him as I wrap the baby sling around us both. “Hold on to mommy,” I whisper. “There you go. Isn’t that good? Climbing on mommy? Let’s get your sister up too.” She’s a deeper sleeper, and barely wakes as I lift her and wrap her into the sling’s cradling folds. Wearing both my babies, I can dip my head and inhale raw baby-head smell. The feeling of their small bodies on mine relieves an anxiety that had been building since I felt my knuckles scrape against those sharp teeth in that weirdly-shaped mouth. My jaw aches remembering it, and I run my tongue over the sharp little teeth that crowd my mouth. My skin itches and I rub my wrist, raising my cuff to reveal greyish-brown fur. It feels strange, but natural. I peer round the door into my eldest’s room and watch her sleeping. My shoulders prickle. It’s too late to sleep, this is prime tick hunting time and we should be outside. “Wake up, little one,” I say, punctuating my words by clicking my tongue. “It’s time to go catch bugs. Come give mommy a hug,” I instruct as she rubs her eyes and toddles over to cling to my leg. “The moon’s beautiful. You want to go out and see it? Hop up and have a piggyback ride.” I wrap my prehensile tail around the doorknob and open the front door purposefully as we head out to forage.
|
|
#
¿
Oct 25, 2021 05:20
|
|
|
in!
|
|
#
¿
Nov 9, 2021 18:44
|
|
|
Rule: your piece must have a climax The Something Awful Forums > Private Messages > Re: :pervert: 680? words Cyril wrote on Dec 29, 2021 03:19: blue balling bitch > Cyril wrote on Nov 17, 2021 13:53: > you can't leave me like this > >> Cyril wrote on Oct 12, 2021 01:06: >> what the gently caress where did you go >> >>> Cyril wrote on Aug 28, 2021 19:17: >>> the last word is: one >>> >>>> Cyril wrote on Aug 28, 2021 19:14: >>>> good work baby girl, i printed out your picture and im going to reward your last word with my cum >>>> >>>>> Cyril wrote on July 15, 2021 02:56: >>>>> next is: edge >>>>> >>>>>> Cyril wrote on July 15, 2021 02:49: >>>>>> it's okay your tweets count too baby girl >>>>>> >>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jun 21, 2021 06:37: >>>>>>> next is: two >>>>>>> >>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jun 21, 2021 06:34: >>>>>>>> my dirty dirty girl >>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jun 01, 2021 23:00: >>>>>>>>> next is: waiting >>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jun 01, 2021 22:57: >>>>>>>>>> every time you post i know it's for me >>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on May 28, 2021 17:52: >>>>>>>>>>> next is: three >>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on May 28, 2021 17:24: >>>>>>>>>>>> you naughty thing, making me read fabgoons >>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 17, 2021 12:50: >>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: knot >>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 17, 2021 12:48: >>>>>>>>>>>>>> i love how you pretend you're not into this >>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 12, 2021 03:38: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: four >>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 12, 2021 03:37: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> well done >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 03, 2021 02:44: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: five >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Apr 03, 2021 02:43: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> that's a good little one >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Mar 28, 2021 05:15: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: squeeze >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Mar 28, 2021 05:13: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> i saw you were probated but i knew my good girl would be back >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Feb 17, 2021 05:35: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: drop >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Feb 17, 2021 05:23: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> what were you doing in QCS, pet >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Feb 01, 2021 19:31: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: tease >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Feb 01, 2021 19:27: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> lol baby you thought you'd hide in D&D >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jan 17, 2021 06:56: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: slow >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jan 17, 2021 06:54: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> you're posting less but i still find them >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jan 02, 2021 23:16: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: loose >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Jan 02, 2021 23:11: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> you make me work for it >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 29, 2020 13:52: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: instructions >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 29, 2020 13:46: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> its ok i like it too >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 14, 2020 15:07: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: shaft >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 14, 2020 14:54: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> you like making me search for these lol >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 09, 2020 11:36: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: grasp >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Dec 09, 2020 11:30: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> lol why arent you sending me links when you post >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 25, 2020 08:19: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: rhythm >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 25, 2020 07:42: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> i found it lol >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 19, 2020 21:55: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> next is: stroke >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 19, 2020 21:53: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> good girl but why didnt you link me to the post lol >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 09, 2020 10:01: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> here's an easy one: goon >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 07, 2020 19:15: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> it's fun >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 06, 2020 19:12: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> there are lots of people already playing it >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 06, 2020 18:27: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> and if you do it well enough i give you a forums gift certificate >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 06, 2020 18:05: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> the way it works is i give you some words and you work them into your posts >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 03, 2020 15:49: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> its a fun one >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Nov 02, 2020 13:41: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> let's play a game >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Oct 29, 2020 18:15: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> you're gorgeous >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> SmolBean wrote on Oct 29, 2020 18:12: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Thank you! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cyril wrote on Oct 28, 2020 12:05: >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> i like your posts in the post your selfies thread
|
|
#
¿
Nov 15, 2021 03:04
|
|
|
crabrock posted:sign up to receive AN ORB of mystical power or ability. you will write about this orb IN THE LITERAL SENSE. this orb exists in your story and it is a focal point of your story not just sitting on a shelf somewhere. this is a daily-use, utilitarian orb. orbs are like a smart phone for a wizard so yeah they be using that poo poo all the time. some of these orbs are janky ok, don't expect them all to be winners. orb me!!!!!!!!
|
|
#
¿
Nov 30, 2021 05:08
|
|
|
Dear Diary sickness orb 1281 words Jan 1 Happy New Year! My Mom got me this diary for Christmas. I made resolutions, here they are: - Get an A in 7th grade Math - Try out for softball - Make Tammy leave me alone - Be nicer to my Mom - Lose 10lbs Jan 3 Sorry I forgot to write yesterday LOL! Today is my birthday. We went out and got cake after church. I don't like having my birthday so close to christmas because no-one gets me any good gifts. They say they combined them into Christmas and new years, but I know its because they don't care enough to go shopping twice. I wanted an orb because now I'm finally old enough but Dad sent me a second-hand sickness orb he probably got a garage sale. Mom went quiet for a bit when I unwrapped it. I should be glad I got an orb but it sucks. I hate it and I hate my Dad and I hate my life and I wish I was never born. Jan 4 I went back to school after break today. It sucked. I went into the restroom after lunch and Tammy and her friends were in there taking turns throwing up. Mom told me to ignore Tammy so she'd leave me alone but as soon as they saw me in the restroom she started calling me names. She said "I'd kick your rear end but you're too fat to feel it" and tossed wads of tp into the stall while I was trying to go. Mom made chicken tetrazzini for dinner even though she knows I'm on a diet. She said I was too young to worry about my weight but she's old, no-one cares what she looks like. Then she offered to find someone to teach me how to use my orb safely. I told her I was fine and I didn't need lessons and she pulled that face where her lips go into a line. Jan 5 In health class today Tammy kept whispering my name. I turned around to look and she yelled that I was harassing her and her friends called me a "creepy piggy." Mom saw the orb on my bookshelf and asked me if I wanted her to take me to go practice with it somewhere safe. I lied and told her "yes but not now," so she'd get off my back. Jan 6 School was really bad. Tammy was in the restroom again after school and every time I tried to go towards a stall she blocked me and said "my friend's going to use that one" but I really needed to go! I finally pushed her out of the way and she said it was assault and she was going to report me tomorrow. Mom asked me again about practicing with the orb. She even got me some lame safety glasses! I wish she'd stay out of my business. I was mad at her so I tried to use it to give her a migraine. I think it worked because she went to bed early and left me alone? Jan 7 Tammy showed me the report slip she'd written. I tried to grab it but she climbed on the table and dangled it up where I couldn't reach. She said she was going to send it in if I didn't do what she said. She told me to sit down so I did. I hate her. When I got home I played with the orb more. I waited until Mom was asleep so she wouldn't nag me about being safe. Jan 8 I had a great idea last night after I wrote in my diary! I used the orb to give myself a fever so I didn't have to go to school and see Tammy. Mom stayed home from work and made me tomato soup and let me lie under a blanket on the sofa. Jan 9 Mom gave me some pamphlets for orb safety classes and a locking box to keep the orb in. I tried to tell her that I know what I'm doing but she didn't listen. Jan 11 Mom drove me to school this morning and when I told her I didn't want to go she said "you'll feel better once you get there" and turned the radio up. I don't want to write about what Tammy did. She still has that report slip and says she's using it to make me "behave." Jan 12 Now I have the box I can sneak my orb into school! I did that today and did the fever trick after recess and the school nurse called Mom to come take me home so I didn't have to go to lunch or my afternoon classes or homeroom. Jan 13 Today I made myself throw up after breakfast so Mom wouldn't make me go to school. She went to work but said we needed to talk after she got home tonight. She hasn't talked to me yet, I hope she forgot. Jan 14 I made myself throw up breakfast again today but Mom took me to school anyway. Tammy was glaring at me in Math. I gave myself a fever after lunch so I could go to the nurse's office. Mom came to get me and drove me home but she was mad and told me that I needed to stop "crying wolf" to get out of things I didn't want to do. Jan 15 Tammy tried to block me out of a restroom stall again today like she did last week. I told her she'd be sorry but all she did was laugh and mention the report slip. She doesn't know I've got an orb. Before I left school for the day I used it to make her sick. Jan 16 I woke up early today and spent an hour working with the orb to make sure Tammy won't be at school on Monday. Jan 17 Church was boring. Mom says I'm old enough now that I have to pay attention to the sermon. The pastor shook my hand on the way out of church and it was all wet and clammy. Gross. Jan 18 Tammy wasn't in school today so it was good! In Health class we talked about "mindfulness" and I concentrated really hard on being "in the moment" when I brushed my teeth. Jan 19 Tammy still wasn't in school. Her friends looked sad but they left me alone. Mom made meatballs. They were greasy little spheres but I blotted them with a napkin and they weren't so gross. Mom told me to stop playing with my food. Jan 20 Our homeroom teacher said Tammy is in the hospital and led us in prayer for her. Tammy's friends made a big deal about it but I didn't pray, instead I was really mindful of how it felt to breathe with my eyes closed. Jan 21 None of Tammy's friends were in school today. They all got to skip so they could see her. I told my Mom about it and how unfair it was and she just made her lips go thin and told me to wash up for dinner. Jan 22 Mom came in early and woke me up by sitting on my bed. She told me I was staying home from school. I didn't understand what was going on. She looked really sad and said Tammy was so sick she was going to die! She kept looking over at the orb box as she told me I'm going to go live with my Dad now and not to ever tell anyone at my new school about the orb.
|
|
#
¿
Dec 6, 2021 05:29
|
|
|
In, please. A camping trip goes awry when a family is taken hostage by super-intelligent mosquitoes.
|
|
#
¿
Dec 16, 2021 04:56
|
|
|
SurreptitiousMuffin posted:a gang of skateboarding criminal witches are here to steal your girl and also your wallet oh hell yes, I hope I can do this one justice
|
|
#
¿
Dec 16, 2021 16:31
|
|
|
ChickenOfTomorrow fucked around with this message at 00:55 on Dec 17, 2021 |
|
#
¿
Dec 16, 2021 16:32
|
|
|
Prompt: a gang of skateboarding criminal witches are here to steal your girl and also your wallet Awakenings 1106 words Whitney's ears were burning. She perched on the bench across the hallway from the teacher's lounge, waiting for them to be done talking about her. Twirling one of her shoelaces around her index finger over and over again, she screwed her eyes shut and tried not to imagine it. Tried not to imagine the voluptuous Miss Butler, stirring spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her black coffee. Sloshing it out of her mug as she talks with her hands, making wild gestures to highlight how emphatically she feels that Whitney will never get any better and that it's a waste of her and Miss Huilung's time to teach her. Tried not to imagine Miss Huilung, sipping from a glass of water over-loaded with ice, nodding. Coolly adding that even if Whitney can improve, she shouldn't board here another year. Smoothing the front of her cardigan as she dispassionately explains that it's obvious Whitney is a lesbian, and it wouldn't be safe for her to do that here. Whitney blushed hot, the flush growing across her face, the slow moving heat of shame flowing down the front of her neck and collarbone to her chest. Then the fear. A cold slice down her spine, spreading over her back to reach between her ribs. The shame and anxiety met at her 15-year-old heart and burned so much she pulled her knees to her chest to smother it. *** "Whitney, let's chat in the classroom," Miss Butler said, taking her by the elbow to guide her. The ball of flame that used to be Whitney's heart jumped into her throat and her pulse hammered in her skull. "We're worried about you, Whitney. We can tell you're not happy right now, and you seem to be wound very tightly." Whitney stared at the fake wood-grain of the table in front of her, fists shoved into the pockets of her blazer. Miss Butler was close enough to smell her resinous perfume and it was too powerful to breathe. Miss Huilung's hair was too shiny, her eyes too clear, for Whitney to look up. She knew she was going to die if she acknowledged either of them. "Has anyone ever mentioned to you that you might have anxiety?" Miss Huilung continued. "Some people who have anxiety, their brain keeps spinning, imagining scary things. Like that everyone is talking behind your back, or that you're not good enough, or that you're in danger. Do you ever feel like that?" Whitney clutched the sheet of A4 paper in her left pocket, clenched her jaw, and shook her head so hard that her curls whipped against her glasses. "No, Miss. I'm fine, Miss. Can I go to my dorm now?" *** Alone in the dorm Whitney sat on the floor by her bed and smoothed out the crumpled photocopy of a photocopy of a photocopy over her lap. A low-fidelity black and white photograph of a skateboarder in a backwards baseball cap took up half the page, with faded type-written text below it. "Real magic spell," she read out loud. "No Fear. Simply inscribe the following words of power on a candle, then light the candle and repeat the spell five times." She scratched words on the candle with her fingernail and set up a candle holder on her bedside table. Squinting at the paper on her lap, she struck a match and began to whisper as she touched it to the wick and set the burning taper in the holder. The oil-anointed candle smoked more than it should; by the time Whitney had chanted the spell three times the fire alarm was ringing. She stayed criss-cross applesauce, floating as she whispered the fourth and fifth repetitions, and had just finished when Miss Huilung took her by the elbow and pulled her up and away. Whitney smiled wide and drifted after Miss Huilung, down the stairs and serenely out into the quadrangle. Miss Butler was talking, her voice oozing out like oil spreading over the surface of the waters in which Whitney bobbed. She giggled, flapping a hand like a drowning swimmer. "I'm fine, Miss. Stay smooth." "Whitney, this is important," Miss Butler said, snapping her fingers and sending Whitney into the breakers of sobriety. "I've hit pause on your magical Ativan so we can talk about how your life's just changed, and how you can make it the best life." Miss Huilung interrupted and continued as Whitney's feet met the floor. "You have powers, Whitney. We've been talking about you, and I want you to stay safe. Miss Butler felt that you would never awaken your power and that it was a boring waste of our time hanging around-" she stopped, sent an icy glare at Miss Butler, and grabbed her leg and began to rub it where Miss Butler had kicked her. "I may have been skeptical, yes, but I see I needn't have been, you're a very powerful young woman who knows what she wants. While Miss Huilung was fearful that even if you could manifest, it wouldn't be safe for you to do that here. Because you've kept it secret for so long, you know. She didn't think you could control it. Thought you couldn't handle the power to have whatever makes you happy." Miss Huilung elbowed Miss Butler out of the way and slid in front of Whitney. "No, I meant you would need me to teach you how to control it. So you can be a good witch, Whitney." Miss Butler pulled Miss Huilung back by the hair. "But you seem to be in control now, so let's talk about going after your joy and being a bad babe. Because you have to deci-" she broke off as Miss Huilung punched her in the face. "To choose, Whitney," Miss Huilung hissed, rubbing her knuckles for a moment before Miss Butler got her in a headlock. "Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?" Something burst inside Whitney, watching Miss Butler and Miss Huilung wrestle over her. She tilted her head back and laughed at the sky, clutching the half-burned candle in her left pocket. *** "And that's how you found out you were a witch? Wow," the blonde breathed, leaning towards Whitney and touching the edge of her cloak. "My awakening wasn't nearly so fun." "Well, maybe not your first." Whitney palmed the coin purse from the blonde girl's date as she grabbed her baseball cap off the bar top. She tossed her skateboard down with one hand and, with the other, took the blonde by the elbow. "You could have a second."
|
|
#
¿
Dec 19, 2021 06:59
|
|
|
In. Marvels, please.
|
|
#
¿
Dec 22, 2021 02:38
|
|
|
sebmojo posted:the yearking is nearly slain, so let us also, as is customary, turn off kayfabe (such as it be) and bid all speak freely of what they feel. things you like, or hate, or think should change about this thunderdome. I'm a stupid babby with a slow brain and i appreciate detailed crit. It's a bit of a bummer when people sign up to crit and then don't. i don't think TD is mean or full of bullies or anything, but it was intimidating because it's like "oh, you wanna play with THE BIG BOYS now huh". which isnt something that needs changing!
|
|
#
¿
Dec 22, 2021 02:42
|
|
|
Prompt: Columns of smoke as ladder to upper world. This Entry is a Prayer 800 words {removed because I want to maybe make something of it; original available on the archive.} ChickenOfTomorrow fucked around with this message at 21:33 on Jan 8, 2022 |
|
#
¿
Dec 27, 2021 02:59
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 16, 2024 20:46 |
|
|
Crrrrits! Simply Simon - Bezos guillotine party A light wish-fulfilment read. Elton was maybe a bit too much of a braod-strokes caricature but your writing smoothed that over. If this were a longer piece I'd tell you to tone it down. Slight nit-pick, though - gallows are for hanging people, not guillotinin' them. Mid-high. Captain_Indigo - A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, but with Mars Ah, meta. The end felt tossed off, but I expected that because you lampshaded it. I found it hard to tell what was purposefully precious and what was accidentally so. Mid. Beezus - O-positive werewolf Cute. "So distracted was he that he nearly failed to register the sensation of a very large, very coarse hand on his hip" threw me out of the story because it felt like a sudden switch of perspective (if Jake didn't notice it, how come we do?). High. Idle Amalgam - Red Dead Redemption fanfiction Three named characters in 546 words feels like too many. I got what you were going for, but it didn't mount me and deliver a quick flurry of punches like it could if you'd used your full word limit and given me more actual story. Low mid. A Classy Ghost - Militant Tooth Fairy This is gonna be tough for you because I've read Hogfather dozens of times, sorry. Sheila's characterization seemed a bit uneven - is she actually good at this, or not? According to this thing, you are the reincarnation of my brother in arm, coribaus. Mid-high. The man called M - A dude fucks the moon I think I read an Oglaf strip about this. You've got something here that you could have really worked with more - the Kaguya mission's original name brings in Selene, then it's a hop skip and a jump to pull in more moon goddesses and you've got a potential slumber party. Lose the terrible punchline. Low. Chairchucker - The Sam Jessop Who is Sam Jessop? Who is this short order cook speaking to? What is going on? Use the rest of your word allotment to help me follow this idea of yours, please. Low mid. Thranguy - Private Dick Implant I want to like this more than I did, and I can't figure out what gives. Maybe because it reminded me of Altered Carbon a little too much? I want to know how therapist works for implants. Mid, mid-high. Carl Killer Miller - Chicken Conflict Resolution Aw, did you write this just for me? Thank you. Paragraphs 4 through 6 don't hang right, because they're telling us something we already know from the opening line. Move paras 3 and 4 and things will flow better. High.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 5, 2022 04:58
|
|