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Trickle Down Dragon 1333 words One Tuesday morning in October, a dragon ate the richest man in the world. Earl Chesterton had been announcing the opening of a new block of luxury apartments when the dragon swooped out of the air, landed next to him, and grabbed him in one huge claw. As the dragon lifted Earl above its mouth, something caught its eye. It turned its head and noticed that some nearby news crews were pointing cameras its way. “Bloody paparazzi,” said the dragon, “can’t even have a meal in peace.” Then it tossed Earl into the air, spat out a burst of flame from its mouth which cooked him instantly, and caught him in its mouth. The news crews who had been assigned to the opening of these apartments were thrilled. What had seemed like a fairly mundane news story, maybe hidden away in the real estate or the financial pages, was now front-page news. What other news outlets could lay claim to having seen an actual, genuine, fire breathing dragon eat the richest man in the world? Well, former richest man. And for the next two days images of Earl Chesterton being cooked and eaten by a dragon before the beast flew off and disappeared into the clouds dominated headlines. On the third day, a dragon appeared and ate the richest man in the world again. Horace Pembrooke had been in a board meeting discussing the acquisition of a smaller publishing house. In some ways this was a smaller news story, because being eaten by a dragon was no longer quite as unprecedented as it had been three days ago, and there were no film crews about. The other members of the board later reported that the dragon had flown through the large windows outside the meeting room, which had shattered inwards. The board members closest to the windows had been treated for lacerations, but were otherwise fine. The dragon then, or so the reports went, lifted Horace, although not quite as high as Earl had been lifted, because the dragon was having to crouch somewhat to fit into the meeting room. It had then shouted at him, “Where’s your hoard, rich man? I can smell wealth! Where’s your hoard?” Horace had shrugged and said something along the lines of, “It’s tied up in equities,” and the dragon had rolled its eyes and stuffed him into its mouth. It was still quite a big story, because while one dragon could be written off as a freak occurrence, two dragons (or possibly the same one twice, it was hard to be sure, especially without photographs of the second dragon related incident) started looking like it could be a pattern. Still, without pictures, it was no longer front-page news, and sat on page two next to an op-ed about whether the dragon was an illegal immigrant. (In this writer’s opinion, most likely.) Three days later, the new richest man in the world was eaten by a dragon while announcing lay-offs. Then again three days after that, while he’d been sailing on his private yacht. By this point, the surviving billionaires had started getting nervous. One hired several body doubles, but the dragon wasn’t fooled. “Only one of you smells of wealth,” the dragon said. “Where is it?” But the billionaire was unable to answer, and got eaten for his troubles, while the body doubles received full pay while only having to work half a day. One billionaire did some clever banking so that technically, his wealth was divided between him, his wife, his mistress, and his other mistress. Try as he might to explain the situation, however, the dragon ate him and left the others alone. A number of billionaires started to divest themselves of their wealth in various ways. One bought a whole fleet of luxury yachts; he was still eaten. A few tried using shell companies and tricks like that. They, also, were eaten when their time came. Interestingly, those who invested in philanthropic ventures were, for the most part, left alone. One or two had registered charities for which they or their families were the beneficiaries, and they went into the dragon’s mouth as well. Theodore Marley was several notches down from the richest man, but after a few weeks of billionaires being eaten, could tell that his time would eventually come. Theodore, or Teddy as he was affectionately known by the people he paid to affectionately call him that while they affectionately touched him all over, started spending his money on weapons, and on people to hold those weapons, and to point them at dragons that might mean to do him harm. Then he bought a small island and moved himself and his personal army to that island. The day came when Theodore ‘Teddy’ Marley was the richest man on earth. Three days after its last meal of the previous richest man, the dragon swooped from the clouds towards Teddy’s mansion. His mercenary army opened fire, sending rockets, bullets, and the occasional throwing knife towards the dragon. Some of them bounced off, but what with the explosions and the throwing knife that hit the dragon in a particularly sensitive area, it was clear that the dragon had been slowed down somewhat. Nonetheless, it smashed through the walls of his mansion, and tore through interior walls until it reached his bedroom. He pulled a pistol and shot it in the head, but it shook it off, slapped the pistol away, and ate him. Nonetheless, it was somewhat worse for wear, and as it spread its wings and started to fly away from the island, the mercenaries continued to pump lead and rockets and throwing knives into its retreating body. It only managed to fly about halfway to the clouds before it succumbed to its injuries and plummeted into the ocean below. After two weeks without a dragon related billionaire death, the surviving billionaires had for the most part ceased their foolishly generous ways. Those who’d been donating to philanthropic ventures had mostly stopped doing that. A few, with varying levels of success, were tying to recover what funds they had donated, on the basis that it was given under duress. Some were investing in private armies or bunkers. You know, just in case. Maxwell Carmichael was one such billionaire. He was negotiating with a group of mercenaries – well technically they were designated as a terror group, but Max felt he needed people who could get the job done, and this group seemed like a group with the will to do what was needed to keep their wealthy benefactor safe. And he was negotiating with them when the dragon arrived. It had, eventually, been agreed that all previous dragon attacks were carried out by the same dragon. There had been some obvious markings, its voice had been very distinctive, and it had started verbally acknowledging that it was the dragon that was eating all the billionaires. This attack was very obviously a different dragon. It was smaller, faster, sleeker, and above all, more vicious. It ripped Max in half, then impaled the leaders of the terror group with its claws, then took off and rained fire on the proceedings from above. For the next week, three billionaires were killed per day. They weren’t eaten, they were just torn apart and left for others to discover. It wasn’t necessarily the richest, either. It seemed that anyone with financial ties to arms dealers were prioritised, some speculated as a safeguard against a repeat incident. After three months, every single billionaire was either dead, or had quietly decreased their wealth through philanthropic giving or paying taxes. The dragon attacks had mostly stopped, but there seemed to be a mutual understanding that, at least for the time being, it was more trouble than it was worth to be a billionaire. Besides which, the dragon kept sending video messages to the media to remind the public that it planned to personally kill anyone who became a billionaire.
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Mar 9, 2024 02:53
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| # ¿ May 13, 2024 22:51 |
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also, in
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Mar 9, 2024 02:53
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Hello three cards please
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Mar 26, 2024 06:49
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The Hag of the Lake 1472 words Rosemary had been alerted to the canoe’s arrival by the honking of the swan, Thyme. The canoe ran aground; a young man got out and made his way up the beach towards the cottage. “Good morning, Miss,” he said. “I’m looking for the… uh…” He seemed reluctant to say it. Rosemary was happy to wait. “The hag of the lake?” he said, finally. She nodded. “You’ve found her.” “Oh,” he said. “I weren’t sure if… is that what you want to be called?” “What were you after? Love potion? Turn someone into a frog?” “No, it’s… can you do that, turn someone into a frog?” “Never tried.” “Oh. No, it’s me ma. She’s sick. Everyone keeps telling me I can’t do nothin’ but make her comfortable, maybe say goodbye to her. Are love potions real? That seems creepy.” “It does, doesn’t it?” said Rosemary. “They’re not something I deal in. What’s wrong with your ma?” ~ “Is this where you get ingredients for magic potions?” They were in Rosemary’s garden. “It’s where I get veggies for dinner.” “Oh. Will that help her?” “It might, it might not. It won’t kill her any worse than she’ll die without it.” She picked a tomato and put it in the basket he was carrying. “Is that a magic ingredient?” “It’s a tomato. It’s good in soup.” “I don’t see how that can help my ma.” She turned and looked at him. “If everything I did made sense to others, perhaps I wouldn’t have to hide away on a rock in a lake.” He didn’t question the utility of any of the other herbs or vegetables they picked. Eventually they’d filled the basket he was carrying, and she had him follow her into the cottage. He stopped at the threshold. “Will anything happen to me if…” “If you’re afraid I’m going to cook and eat you, you can wait outside if you’d prefer. Just pass me the basket.” “Are… are you going to?” She didn’t answer. He hesitated a moment but came inside and handed her the basket. She set him to work chopping and dicing vegetables, which she then stirred one by one into the cauldron. She ladled some of the soup into two bowls, and filled up a flask, which she stopped up with a cork. She handed him the flask. “Take this home, heat it up, have her drink what she can.” He tucked it into a pocket on his jacket, then looked at the two bowls on the table. “What about them?” She shrugged. “It’s about lunch time. You’re going to want a full stomach before you paddle back home.” She sat down in front of one of the bowls, picked up a spoon, and started. After a moment, he joined her. He made short work of the soup. “Well, I guess I’d better head home and give this to me ma.” “I guess you had,” she said. He walked to the door of the cottage, giving sidelong glances at her all the while. He made it do the door without any attempts on her part to cook or eat him; once outside, he made his way to the beach and pushed the canoe back into the lake, hopping in once the water was up to his knees. He turned and looked back to the island; she was standing outside her cottage, overlooking the lake. “What do I call you?” he called up to her. “What?” “My name’s Brian. What’s yours?” She raised an eyebrow. “Not afraid if you give me your name, I’ll bewitch you?” He shrugged. “As long as you wait until after I bring this back to my ma.” She chuckled. “You can call me Rosemary.” He nodded. “Thanks, Rosemary!” Then he started paddling away. ~ Almost a week later, Rosemary was once again in her garden when Thyme started honking. It was the same canoe. Rosemary watched from her cottage as, once again, it ran aground, and Brian got out. He was holding something in his arms. He looked up and waved to her, then made his way up the beach. “Back again? What do you want this time?” He held the object out to her. “After what you did for me ma, she told me I should thank you. She knitted this a while back. I figured it might get cold here at nights.” It was a shawl. She wrapped it around her shoulders. “She’s doing better, then?” He nodded. “The others in the village was ready to bury her.” “Mmm,” she said. “So, your ma told you to give this shawl to the hag of the lake?” “No,” he said, “to my friend Rosemary.” She raised an eyebrow. “Guess you didn’t tell her the full story.” He shrugged. “I didn’t lie to me ma. That’s why I needed to know what to call you that wasn’t… that.” “Right.” She paused for a moment. “I haven’t eaten lunch yet. Have you?” He shook his head. They followed the same routine as last time; he carried a basket, and she filled it with vegetables and herbs. He chopped and diced as she directed, and she stirred it up in the cauldron. “Only veggies?” he asked once he’d finished. “Hmmm?” “You don’t eat meat?” She gestured in the direction of the island. “Not a lot available here. Fish, I suppose, but I’ve always been more of a gardener than an angler.” He nodded. “Makes sense.” She cleared her throat. “So, I guess you’ll need to be leaving.” “I’m not expected back for a while,” he said, “but I can leave if you’d like.” “Hmmm,” she said. “You can help me wash up, then.” ~ The next time he visited, he brought some fish. “You’ve already thanked me,” she said. “No need to go overboard.” He shrugged. “Thought we could see what we can make if we had more ingredients than just what’s in your garden.” “Nothing wrong with what’s in my garden.” “No,” he said. “But different things can be nice.” “Hmmm,” she said. “All right, come inside.” ~ He visited a few times per week. Sometimes he brought some meat, or goods that weren’t readily available on the island. One time he replaced one of the rockers on her chair. And then, suddenly, the visits stopped. It was probably for the best. She was safer alone. And yet, she’d gotten used to the visits. Thyme was a faithful companion – demonstrably more so than he, in that she had stuck around – but honking made for poor conversation at times. ~ It was evening, and there was barely light out, when Rosemary again heard the honking. She couldn’t see a canoe, but she could hear splashing on the water. She peered out and barely made out a head; someone was swimming. They were struggling. She gave a very particular whistle. Thyme swum over to the person in the water, grabbed on with her beak, and started towards the island. Rosemary met them down at the beach. “You’re a better canoer than you are a swimmer.” “Others in the village burned my canoe. They says you’ve got me bewitched.” She helped him towards the cottage. “This might not be the way to prove them wrong.” He smiled. “I missed our chats.” She helped him inside and in front of the fire. “We need to get you out of those clothes.” He nodded. She peeled them off of him, down to his undergarments, then wrapped him in the shawl. ~ He woke on a straw mattress, with her looking down at him. “Still with us,” she said. He smiled. “Yeah, thanks.” “Bed rest for you, I’m afraid.” He looked around. “Oh. This is the only bed. Where will you sleep?” She shrugged. “I’m used to sleeping rough.” ~ With a couple days of rest and Rosemary’s cooking, Brian quickly recovered. He found Rosemary in her garden. “Your ma will be worried for you,” she said. “I don’t think so,” he said. “She died three weeks ago.” “Oh, sorry.” He shook his head. “You gave her a few extra months.” She nodded. “Still. It’ll be hard for you to get back home without a canoe.” “Tired of me already?” She shook her head. “You have to get home eventually, right?” “What if I didn’t?” “You want to stay with me?” He nodded. “If you don’t want me to stay, I’ll find a way to get back, and maybe visit when I can. But I like you, and if you’ll let me stay, I will.” She reached out for him. He opened his arms; she stepped into his embrace, looked up at him and kissed him. “I do still only have one bed,” she said. He nodded. “I’m sure we’ll think of something.” “Aye,” she said, “that we will.”
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Mar 31, 2024 17:07
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Hello may I take a flash please, either flavour. Or both.
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Apr 17, 2024 13:20
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Thranguy posted:Your Immortal is not a vampire, but it's an easy mistake. Rock No. 3 “Nice spaceship, is that yours?” The two customers were wrapped up from head to toe, which was certainly a statement in this weather. “No, it’s not a spaceship,” said the taller one. The shorter one shook their head. “No, it’s an ordinary Earth road vehicle.” Sharon looked out the window again. Their ordinary Earth road vehicle was hovering about half a metre off the ground. She shrugged. “My mistake. Nice vehicle.” “Thank you,” said the tall one. “My name is Robert, although my closer associates call me Bob. This is my partner, Jane.” “To clarify,” said Jane, “Bob means that we are partners in the romantic and sexual sense, not in business or… any other sense.” “Yes, that’s correct,” said Bob. “We have very regular intercourse with each other.” “No worries,” said Sharon, “nice to meet you. I’m Sharon.” “Sharon,” said Jane, “what refuelling options do you have?” “Just what you see out there,” said Sharon. “Petrol, diesel, gas.” “Hmm.” Bob scratched his head. “You don’t stock liquid neutronium, then?” “Nope, sorry.” “By the way,” said Jane, “you haven’t seen any vehicles similar to ours, have you? We were supposed to meet several thousand of our friends around here.” “Or even ones similar to this, but maybe an airborne variety.” “Not that ours does that,” said Jane. “Very ordinary road vehicle.” Sharon shook her head. “We don’t get that many cars out this way.” “Hmm,” said Bob. “This does rather complicate our plans.” “Travel plans,” said Jane. “Just plans to travel, look at scenery, things like that.” “Right,” said Bob. “No other plans at this time. Just the travel, see sights, frequent intercourse with each other of course.” “Of course,” said Jane. “Sharon,” said Bob, “do you by any chance have any communication equipment we could use?” Sharon picked up the receiver for the phone and held it up towards them. “You can use the servo’s phone if you like.” “Ah, that’s all you have?” asked Jane. “You don’t have any interstellar communications devices?” “Not that we need to communicate at those kinds of distances,” said Bob. “It just provides a more stable connection.” “Sorry,” said Sharon, “just the landline.” “Hmmm. We might need to double check our bearings,” said Jane. “Excuse us for a moment,” said Bob, and the two of them walked over to the dining area, sat down, and pulled out a small device. From the top of it was projected an image of thousands of stars. “All right,” said Bob, “so we’re over here?” The door’s chimes heralded the arrival of a new customer. “Evening Kyle,” said Sharon. “What can I do for you?” “Prepare to meet your doom, creature of the night!” he said. She rolled her eyes. “Can we not do this tonight?” He reached over his shoulder and pulled out a large crossbow. “Any last words?” “What the hell, Kyle? Where did you even get that from?” “I built it.” He gestured to the body of the crossbow. “The stock here – that’s what the main bit is called – I built it in woodwork class.” “Great, love to be threatened with the results of a high school assignment.” He pointed to the bow of the crossbow. “And this bit, it’s called the lath by the way…” But Sharon didn’t find out what Kyle was going to say about the lath, because the crossbow fired, and a bolt struck her in the chest. “Ow! Kyle you absolute tosser, you shot me in the tit!” “Uh.” Kyle looked sheepish, but only for a moment. “Well this is proof that you’re a vampire like I’ve always been saying.” The siren and flashing lights from outside heralded the arrival of the local cop. “Aha!” he said. “You’re in for it now!” “Sure,” she said, “I’m sure they’ll arrest me for having an unauthorised weapon in my boob.” The door opened, and a young man in uniform came through. “Sorry I wasn’t here earlier Sharon, I heard Kyle was after you, came down as fast as I could.” “Ah,” she said. “Ted. Was expecting your dad.” “Yeah, I borrowed his car. Oh my! You’re injured!” “Maybe a little,” she said. “There’s a crossbow bolt lodged in your ample bosom!” he said. “Please don’t say it like that.” “Do you need me to attend to the wound?” “Nope.” “I’m first aid trained!” “Absolutely not.” “Surely there’s some way I can help you,” he said. “I can’t just stand by while a lady is suffering.” “Maybe you could arrest Kyle for shooting me.” “Oh come on,” said Kyle. “You can’t be arrested for shooting a vampire.” “I don’t know if that’s true,” said Ted. “I’m also just not a vampire,” said Sharon, “so there’s that.” “Of course you are,” said Kyle. “First, you’re always out all night.” “Well yeah, I’m on the night shift.” “Second, I just shot you and you didn’t die, so you’re obviously immortal.” “Maybe your crossbow’s just not very good.” “And third, look how tall you are!” “Nothing wrong with a tall and imposing lady,” said Ted. “She’s scary!” “M’lady,” said Ted – “Please don’t call me that.” “Sharon, I just want you to know that I don’t hold your admittedly abnormal height against you.” “Oh good, you’re not going to arrest me or make it legal to kill me for the crime of being too tall?” “That’s not what I mean! There’s nothing wrong with your height! Even if it is a bit intimidating to some, I don’t mind it at all, and while some people may be worried about the prospect of you accidentally stepping on them, or something like that, I wouldn’t mind that at all…” “Bloody hell Ted,” she said, “this is a bit much don’t you think?” “Sorry to interrupt this extremely embarrassing exchange,” Bob called from the table he was sitting at, “but I wonder if between the three of you, you could help in a disagreement I’m having with my romantic partner, Jane.” “We have intercourse, but sometimes we also argue,” said Jane. “Such is the duality of human relationships.” “I’d love to,” said Sharon. “Please let’s change the subject to whatever you’re talking about.” “But I had more I wanted to say,” said Ted. “It can wait,” said Sharon. “Bob, what were you going to ask?” “Something of an astronomy question,” he said. “How many planets is this one away from your sun?” “Our sun,” said Jane. “Right. Away from our sun.” “Trick question,” said Kyle. “There’s no such thing as planets, or space. It’s a government plot.” Sharon shook her head. “It’s the third. Mercury, Venus, then Earth.” “I don’t know,” said Ted. “I saw this TV show that had, like, a shadow planet between Mercury and Venus.” “Was that a documentary?” asked Sharon. “No, some sci-fi show I’ve been getting into.” “Right,” said Bob. “Third.” “So we’re not over here,” said Jane, pointing to one of the stars. “Hey, is that your car outside?” asked Ted. “There’s no license plate for it.” “Hmm,” said Jane. “Ted, are you gonna arrest Kyle or what?” asked Sharon. “Pfft,” said Kyle. “What for? Trying to murder you? That’s not a real thing, if you aren’t successful they can’t do anything about it.” “Ah, I actually know this one,” said Ted. “Attempted murder: definitely a crime.” “What, really? That doesn’t seem fair, getting punished without even killing a person. And anyway, she’s not even a person, she’s a vampire! Come to think of it I’m not a person either, I’m a free human, so I’m not subject to your laws.” “Ah, I know this one too,” said Ted. “I get to subject you to our laws because I have a gun.” And he pulled out the gun and pointed it at Kyle. “Fair cop,” said Kyle. The two of them left, although Ted called to Bob and Jane as he was leaving, “Make sure you put a license plate on that car!” and then called out to Sharon, “Just think about it! I’m a really nice guy; you can tell by the fact that I just did the job I’m expected to do!” “You do look somewhat pained,” said Jane to Sharon, once they’d left. “Why did you refuse the law enforcement officer’s aid? Was it because you feared he’d use it as an opportunity to molest you?” “Yeah,” said Sharon. “Stings a fair bit, though.” “We might have some kind of first aid equipment,” said Bob. “In our vehicle. If you’d like some assistance.” “I’d appreciate that, Bob.” He went out and came back a minute later with a small metal rod, and what looked like a small balloon. “Ah yes,” said Jane. “The disintegrator, a good idea.” Sharon raised her eyebrow. “That’s some first aid kit you’re packing.” “We decided to purchase the deluxe version,” said Jane. Bob touched the rod to the crossbow bolt lodged in Sharon’s breast, and it slowly disintegrated. “May I have your permission to move your garment aside?” he asked. “I’ll get it,” said Sharon. She unbuttoned her shirt; there was a small wound on her left breast. Bob pointed the opening of the small balloon towards this wound. A fine mist came out of the balloon, and the wound on her breast closed up. “Great,” she said, and buttoned her shirt back up. “So,” said Jane, “this license plate your law enforcer mentioned; that’s for road vehicles only?” She shrugged. “As far as I know.” “Right,” said Bob. “So if, hypothetically, our vehicle out there wasn’t a road vehicle, but was in fact a spaceship capable of interstellar flight, we wouldn’t need to get a license plate?” “Dunno,” said Sharon, “I don’t know the laws on spaceships. I don’t think you would, though.” Bob and Jane looked at each other for a moment. “All right,” said Jane, “full disclosure, we are actually interstellar visitors. We are part of a… settlement force.” “A mostly peaceful settlement force,” said Jane. “Except it appears there was a miscommunication about where the rest of the settlement force is going.” “Oh,” said Sharon. “Undoubtedly you are in shock,” said Bob. “Not from the news,” said Jane, “which you seem to be handling almost unnaturally well. But from being shot in the breast.” “Anyway,” said Bob, “in summary it seems we will be stranded for an extended period of time. Would you happen to have room in your home for us?” “I take it the part about you being a couple was also not true?” “Correct,” said Jane. “The intercourse part was true,” said Bob. “I’m sure we can work something out,” said Sharon. So the three of them went back to Sharon’s place after her shift, and Kyle and Ted, after a number of brief mysterious disappearances, both stopped being weird creeps, and Bob and Jane frequently had intercourse so loudly that it occasionally prevented Sharon from sleeping, but they settled upon a compromise whereby they warned her prior to engaging in coitus, and she was permitted to watch. Also, the invasion force which Bob and Jane were meant to be part of got eaten by space monsters, so it all worked out pretty well for them, considering.
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Apr 22, 2024 07:55
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1862 words btw
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Apr 22, 2024 07:56
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hello may i have a thing and also in
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May 4, 2024 14:43
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 Gladiator, Joker, Signs, Flee Polly and Jingles and Me 1121 words “No one can take a joke these days, that’s the problem.” Demetrius opened his eyes and raised his head to see who’d spoken. The speaker was dressed in the bells and tassels of a jester. “Huh?” “You used to be able to joke about anything. Why, only last week I told a hilarious joke about how all Sumerians smell like fish.” “Oh. Do they?” The jester frowned. “What do you mean? It’s just a joke; it doesn’t matter if they really smell like fish. Anyway, everyone laughed at that one.” “I don’t really get it.” “See, another example of everyone being too sensitive.” Demetrius had a hangover headache, which had not put him in the right headspace for whatever this conversation was, so he closed his eyes again. “What are you in for, anyway?” Demetrius couldn’t completely remember the previous night’s events, but given the headache, it seemed likely that he’d caroused a little too hard. “Consorting with demons.” “Ah.” For a time, that seemed to have the intended effect of shutting the jester up. “Well, I was locked up for a joke. Can you believe that?” “Wow,” said Demetrius. “That’s really something.” “Do you want to hear it?” “Oh gosh, I don’t know if I’ll get it.” “Nonsense, it was an absolute banger. Now then, how did it start…” Just then, the door to their prison burst open. Through the doorway strode a tall woman wearing a cloak of the brownest brown Demetrius had ever seen. “Ho there you two fellows,” she loudly proclaimed. Demetrius winced at the loudness of her bellow. “Good morning.” “Say,” said the jester, “you look like a lady who appreciates a good joke.” She turned and stared through him. “Uh. Perhaps later, then.” She carried on as if he hadn’t spoken. “Your salvation is at hand! I, Polly the Witch of the Frozen Wastes, am here to release you from your fate, in exchange for your loyalty to my cause!” “Polly?” asked Demetrius. She shrugged. “I know it’s not very witchy, but it’s a family name.” “I’ll probably be out by tomorrow,” said the jester. “It was just a harmless joke.” “You are both awaiting execution,” she said. “I’m surprised no one told you.” “What?” he said. “That’s ridiculous. ‘Twas but a jape, a trifle.” Demetrius shrugged. “I don’t really remember much of last night.” “Anyway, are you going to pledge yourselves to my service, or am I leaving you to the mercies of the executioner?” Demetrius stood up; there was a clank of manacles. “I would, but…” and he held out his hands, which were manacled together, to a chain that also connected to the wall. Polly spoke some witchy words and wiggled her fingers witchily in his direction. The manacles around his wrists and ankles contorted, and then came undone as the bolts holding them together popped out. He nodded. “I’m with you, witch.” “Polly is fine. And you, jingly man?” The jester stood up. “Well, I’m sure your cause will need someone with my wit.” “We’ll see, Jingles,” she said. “For now, just your loyalty will do.” ~ “All right,” said Jingles – he’d objected, but the name had stuck, with Polly refusing to hear what his real name was – “now I suppose you’d both like to hear this joke of mine.” The three of them were in a small rowboat floating down the Tiber. “Sorry,” said Polly, “what joke was that?” “Oh,” said Demetrius, “apparently he told a joke that got him put in jail. I’m sure it’s very good, but I didn’t get his other joke, so…” and he trailed off with a shrug. “Right,” said Polly. “Well, I’m sure it’s frightfully good, but instead of listening to that, I’m going to explain to the two of you why I broke you out of prison, saving you from execution.” “I still don’t remember what I did to get into prison,” said Demetrius. “I thought it was the consorting with demons,” said Jingles. “All right, you’re explaining that later too,” said Polly. “But first, the reason I freed the two of you.” The two of them nodded, and she continued. “We’re going to burn down the barracks. After we free all the horses from the stables.” “Uh,” said Demetrius, “that’s a lot.” “Sounds like a good joke,” said Jingles. “What’s the plan?” asked Demetrius. “What?” said Polly. “I literally just said. We’re going to burn down the barracks after freeing the horses from stables.” “No, I get that but…” “Just follow me.” ~ No one challenged them on the way to the stables. Oh, except for the soldiers. About a dozen soldiers challenged them on the way to the stables, and Demetrius stabbed them with a sword Polly had gotten him, and Polly did witchy stuff at some of the other guards and they fell over, and then Jingles gave them a right kicking. But apart from all the soldiers they killed, no one challenged them. “Not really sure why you needed us for this,” said Demetrius. “I’m very good at kicking,” said Jingles. “Perfect comedic timing on those kicks, too.” “Yeah, you were very specific about where on their body you were kicking them.” Jingles shrugged. “That’s comedy!” “Very true,” said Polly. “Also, sometimes you just want people to hang out with while you’re setting buildings on fire. And hexing too many soldiers can really take it out of a witch.” Demetrius shrugged and started to open stable doors. The horses were clearly too well trained, though; they all stayed in their stalls. “Polly?” he asked. “Can you do any witch things to make the horses escape?” “Sure,” she said, and she wiggled her fingers and the stables started burning. “Wait, what?” he asked. “You’ve opened all their pens, right?” “Uh…” said Demetrius, and then he and Jingles scrambled to open the remaining doors. ~ By the time the stables fire was completely out of control, the horses had all successfully fled, and the three of them had moved onto the barracks. There were more encounters with soldiers, but a good dose of stabbing and hexing and kicking later, and they ceased to be a concern. And then she set fire to the barracks. ~ “I still don’t understand what we did or why we did it,” said Demetrius. The three of them were back on the rowboat on the Tiber, bits of the burning city in their wake. “Well, it was funny,” said Jingles. “I’m starting to understand why your comedy got you a death sentence, Jingles,” said Polly. She sighed. “I just wanted to set some buildings on fire and kill some soldiers, is that too hard to understand?” He shrugged. “I suppose not.”
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May 6, 2024 11:57
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hello in and flash
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May 7, 2024 13:58
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| # ¿ May 13, 2024 22:51 |
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Quiet Feet posted:Fairy godmothers Parsely, Sage and Rosemary have run out of time. Doing Hard Time and Fairy Dust 908 words To a casual observer, Parsley and Topaz passing by each other would’ve seemed as innocent as a fairy and a gnome passing each other in the yard of a maximum-security prison could be. Parsley unwrapped the package back at her cell. Topaz had lived up to her reputation: nothing but the finest grade magical gemstones. She pulled a brick from the wall of her cell, stashed the gemstones, and replaced the brick. ~ “Your sentence is up soon,” said Rosemary. She and Sage were on the other side of a table from Parsley. “Too soon,” said Parsley. “Aurora’s still got another seven years inside, and I can’t protect her out there.” “Maybe you should’ve killed someone,” said Sage. Parsley raised an eyebrow. “Not someone nice. Maybe I should lay a death curse on some absolute blackguard.” Rosemary shook her head. “We’d definitely lose our fairy godmother privileges with a murder. As it is, Parsley has been lucky to retain some of her powers.” “Luck had nothing to do with it,” said Parsley. “It’s all about who you know. It’s fine though, our contingency plan can go ahead.” “You’ve got the other component?” asked Sage. Parsley nodded and glanced towards the guards. There was a strict ‘no touching’ policy that would make a handoff difficult. Rosemary nodded and wiggled her fingers at the guards. The enchantment only lasted for a moment; the guards all turned as one to the corner of the room furthest from the three fairy godmothers. When they turned back, there was nothing untoward going on and no reason to suspect anything from these sweet, innocent fairy godmothers, but if they’d bothered to weigh Parsley they would’ve found she was heavier by a few grams. ~ Parsley went straight back to her cell. Out came the brick, in went her new acquisition, back went the brick. Then she went out to the yard. Aurora was standing with the sirens. They seemed to have taken a shine to her. It was probably on account of all her singing, and the woodland creatures it attracted; at this moment, there were three crows, two bluebirds, a weasel, and a pelican around her as she sang. As Parsley made her way over towards them, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye; turning her head, she saw the ogress Griselda walking towards Aurora with intent. Parsley altered her trajectory to intercept her. “Hey Griselda,” she said, “lovely weather we’re having, isn’t it?” “What?” “The weather. It seems quite pleasant today, I think.” Griselda shook her head. “Never mind the weather. I’ve had enough of that accursed singing.” She started again towards Aurora. “Oh, not a music lover, huh? Or do you have a different style in mind? Who knows, maybe she takes requests.” “I’m going to eat her, and all her little woodland friends.” Parsley sighed. “Now why’d you have to go and say something like that, Griselda? You know I can’t allow that.” Griselda turned her head and stared at Parsley. “You are a tiny bug. You can’t stop me.” Parsley shook her head. “That’s not very nice either.” The unpleasantness that followed soon brought the attention of the guards. ~ “You’re sure you don’t have anything to tell us?” The warden was tapping a pencil on a clipboard, which she was peering over at Parsley. “Can’t think of anything. Was there something in particular you wanted me to tell you?” The warden frowned. “Griselda said a bug must’ve gotten in her eyes. I wouldn’t have thought bugs would do that much damage.” “Well, ogres are resilient,” said Parsley, “I’m sure she’ll be right as rain in no time, if maybe a little bit more cautious around bugs.” “Hmmmmm,” said the Warden. “We did a headcount after we’d taken the two of you away, what do you think we found?” “Depends,” said Parsley. “How many times did you count Laverne?” “We counted Laverne’s heads separately. She’s just at two, by the way.” The warden tutted. “Outside of her, though, there was one person missing.” “Oh?” “Don’t act stupid, I know the two of you were just creating a diversion.” “I’m genuinely baffled about whatever it is you’re talking about.” ~ “So, two more years onto the sentence, huh?” Sage was visiting once again. “If I’d known it was this easy, I’d have gotten into a fight a while ago.” “Yeah. If you’d killed someone it might’ve been the whole seven.” “Again with the killing?” Sage shrugged. “Come on, we’ve met some absolute brigands.” “Wouldn’t help now, since Aurora seems to have absconded.” “Does anyone known how?” “I’ve heard whispers that she climbed into a pelican’s beak.” “Seems farfetched,” said the other fairy. ~ Parsley met up with Topaz the next week. “So I guess now that Aurora’s gone and foiled your rescue attempts by getting herself out, you might have some contraband to get rid of.” Parsley shrugged. “Or we can use it. No use the two of us hanging around here for the rest of our sentence, right?” Topaz raised an eyebrow. “Not many people are keen to help a killer like me escape.” “Oh, I never did ask what you were in for.” Parsley thought for a moment. “You didn’t kill anyone nice, did you?” “Oh, goodness no,” said Topaz. “They were absolute scoundrels. Utter ne’er-do-wells.” Parsley smiled. “I’ll have to introduce you to my sister, once we’re out.”
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May 13, 2024 07:44
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