Excerpt #60

The Martian warriors stood waiting. They knew that the final battle would be here as the part of The Way known as Celes came into view. The war had run it’s course for seven hundred and three turns of the sun and many on both sides lay dead. Invasion was the enemy’s intent but those born on red soil had pushed back the intruders. Now as the Warriors waited, adjusting the straps of their crab shell armor and tapping their iron spears onto the soil, the mood became tense. The Jovian forces had massed at the fortress-city of Noc and moved sunward towards Olympus Mons as The Way turned.The majority of Martian warriors were entrenched at the head of the main road while others scouted the planet’s edge for outflanking enemy forces.

“There! The Jovians!” Someone shouted, heads raised to look at the horizon. Along The Way was what looked to be a massive orange river. The Martians knew it was the full might of Jupiter’s army coming to bear. Huge orange banners bearing the Unending Storm upon them fluttered in the wind and the sound of horns could be heard.

“By the dark side of the Sun!” Exclaimed a young warrior.

“There are so many of them!” His fear evident, he spoke for most of them. From the rear ranks came a warrior mounted on a strider. He dismounted and shooed the beast away. They looked upon his dark red, almost black armor. It was made from the shell of a bull tower crab and instantly identified him as a fighter of unparalleled skill. The other warriors took heed as he spoke.

“Brothers and sisters.” He said loudly.

“Approaching us is a vast army of Jovian scum that would see us wiped from this land. Our land! This red Martian soil which we call our home is our birthright. Our ancestors have hunted, fought and died here for generations. It is not for outsiders to take our history from us!” Cheers went up among the gathered fighters.

“They may think that their numbers assure them victory but they do not know the true nature of a Martian with everything to lose. Now gather arms brothers and sisters and let us show these Jovian fools that if they wish this land to become theirs it will cost them every last drop of their blood!” The warriors roared in response and steeled themselves for battle.

Excerpt #59

Galou tightened the left-side of the triangular sail. With one point attached to the craft and the other two in the air, it stretched tall above their toothboat. Moolo smiled. They had been to sea for turns and he was looking forward to seeing the giant, arching spires of his homeship Quola. Their hold was stocked with goods traded from Terrans they had met at The River.

“Do you believe what they said Galou?” He asked.

“What do you mean?” Replied the elder.

“The Terrans. They claimed that their world had as much land as ours had water. That’s madness! What do they eat? Where do their young grow?” His mind was still boiling with questions and Galou could almost swear he could see steam coming from his apprentice’s head. He bubbled with laughter.

“I don’t know lad. Perhaps some day we will visit their land.” Spotting a nearby toothboat he pointed with his tentacle.

“We should signal our intent. Moolo, do you remember the proper signals?” The youth leapt up, a shimmer of bright pink betraying his excitement. Standing facing the other toothboat he raised his arm-tentacles and changed his color to a bright yellow. A Neptunian on the other boat became yellow in acknowledgment. Moolo then shifted his arms to his left flashing green then white. In return he received a flashing of grey and then white.

“They come from the island colonies and are headed to Quola!” He said excitedly. Galou nodded in affirmation, chuckling but then turned a scarlet red. He pushed Moolo to the side, flashing from bright yellow to the red and then to black. Moolo watched the elder’s signals and mouthed a word in horror.

“Seamaw…” The other Neptunians scrambled atop their craft, it’s round deck swaying from side to side as they searched but it was too late. A dark red shape burst from the water, three large tentacles lashing out to grab hold of the terrified crew. The creature, what could be seen above the water, was a short, fat cone ringed with three huge unblinking, yellow eyes. As it pulled the screaming Neptunians towards it Moolo and Galou gazed in terror as the top of the cone split open three ways into a hideous gaping maw. The beast threw the crew of the other toothboat inside and promptly sealed shut it’s mouth. Sitting, calmly floating in the water it began moving towards them.

“Moolo!” Galou startled the youth back to his wits.

“Fetch the bonegun. Down in the hold. Quick as you can!” Without a word Moolo twirled open the hatch to their quarters below. Diving tentacle first he landed and swiftly spun his body around to place it above the hatch to the hold. He flung the second hatch open and was inside the darkened space deep beneath the waves. Though not much of the craft was visible above, a toothboat was a large vessel and could hide up to four decks below the surface. Feeling around, Moolo’s suctioned hand finally rested on the familiar hollow weapon. With a swiftness powered by fear he leapt through the first then the second hatch. He handed the bonegun to Galou. It was a long, thin, hollow tube with a small tube sticking in perpendicular at the end. The opposite side had four similar tubes that stuck out upwards at an angle, like the ribs if a fish. The elder placed a small amount of greyish substance in the front end. He then forced a small dark, stone ball into the same opening. Inserting a firegel capsule inside the small tube in the front he then rested the gun on his shoulder. The whole time Moolo glanced from the elder to the seamaw which was now deadly close. Galou stood quietly as he took aim. The sound of the waves splashing against the boat and the approaching beast’s body churning were all that could be heard. Almost unnoticeably, Galou depressed the capsule and the silence was shattered by a deafening thunderclap. Smoke shot from the rear tubes of the gun as the stone rocketed forward. In an instant it pierced through it’s intended target, the beast’s closest eye. The seamaw roared in pain as red ichor gushed from it’s wound. The water became stained a muddy crimson color and the creature let go a final cry of pain and dipped below the waves. Moolo shouted in joy, pink racing across his body. Galou sighed, his reserve melting away to reveal the grey of relief.

“Great shot elder.” Said the youth. The elder finally smiled.

“Well I promised your mother that I would bring you back alive!” He exclaimed. They both bubbled with laughter.

Excerpt #58

“Hello.” Said Valerie, smiling at Dennis. They walked up to each other and hugged. They gripped each other tightly and both waited for the other to let go. Slowly they broke the hug and stood facing each other.

“Hello.” Said Dennis. They stared and smiled at each other, staring at each others eyes as time slowly crept by.

“So.” Said Valerie.

“Should we get our tickets?” She said.

“Yes.” Said, Dennis as they both headed toward the ticket booth. The day was cooling down as the rays of the setting sun shot through the parking lot.

“So…” Trailed Dennis. Valerie turned to him expectantly.

“We’re seeing the one with the Aliens right?” He chuckled and she smiled at him again.

“Yes.” She said. The booth operator looked at them, waiting for them to declare their movie. Dennis looked at him.

“The… uh… the one with the Aliens.” He laughed. Valerie hit him.

“You don’t even know the title?” She said, chuckling.

“Ten fifty.” Said the young man in the booth, a bland look on his face. Dennis quickly placed his credit card up under the opening in the glass of the booth.

“Hey!” Valerie hit Dennis again.

“You paid for last time! It was my turn. Independent lady here!” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a “harrumph.” Dennis took the tickets and the receipts.

“You may be independent but I’m a gentleman.” He said, holding his hand out. Valerie looked at his hand skeptically but placed her hand in it.

“To the movies good sir.” She said, faking a British accent.

“Very good madam.” He said as they walked into the theater, laughing.

Excerpt #57

“I’m not sure about this.” Said Megan, staring at her computer screen. Lory stared at her dumbfounded. Well she stared at the wall of her cubicle in the direction Megan was sitting and would be staring at her if the wall wasn’t in the way. Anyone walking by would have been confused and probably themselves would have stopped to stare at what this silly woman in the cubicle was fixing so much attention on. Lory quickly climbed onto her desk and peered over at Megan.

“What?!” She said rather loudly. Megan looked up, surprised to see her friend and co-worker hanging over the wall that separated their desks.

“Shhhh!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide open, fearful of reprimand from fellow co-workers and floating managerial staff. Lory scanned the vast expanse of the floor and looked back at Megan.

“We have to do this.” She said in an almost whisper.

“We’ve been planning this for almost a year!” Megan looked up at her, worried.

“What if we get caught…” She replied, trailing off. Lory stepped back down from her desk and quickly ran around the perimeter of cubicles towards Megan’s. Entering she knelt next to her friend and looked up.

“We won’t get caught. You know the plan. It’s foolproof. Trust me. We’ll pull it off and no one will be the wiser.” She held Megan’s hand and squeezed. She looked at Lory, eventually smiling and nodding.

“Ok. Let’s do it.” She said with confidence.

Excerpt #56

Terrible pain lancing behind your eyes. Flashes of white hot sensation arcing through your head. In waves that trail behind the pulse of your heart you begin to wish it would stop beating in your chest. With every stab of pain your body jerks. Your hands grasping your face and neck as if by holding it, the pain will stop. Eyes run rivulets of tears down your cheeks, covering your hands who unsuccessfully shield your head from the pain. The torment is exceptional and you collapse to the ground. On the floor the throbbing does not cease and you begin to writhe, grasping your body. Your chest, your stomach and your legs. Your hands move from one part to another even as you agonize on the floor and you can only wish for death. Anywhere but your own body is what you wish for, a silent cold release from the burning in your brain. You can only hope that the lighting strikes in your head will soon be over as you ride a chaotic storm of pain, anguish and misery.

Excerpt #55

Casey dropped his keys as he tried to open the gate. Instead of floundering and bending over to pick them up he just stared. Not at the keys but at the lock where they had just been. Michael waited and then chimed in.

“Casey. Are you ok?” Casey just stared at the lock and eventually spoke.

“This place is wrong.” He said, emotionlessly.

“Wrong?” asked Michael. “Here is wrong?” He asked.

“No. This reality. I’m not in my reality. This is not my reality.” Said Casey quickly. Michael began to laugh.

“Oh is that a fact?” he said, still smiling. Casey turned and glared at him.

“Don’t you fucking give me that. This lock, my lock, the lock to my house… It turns the wrong way. ” It was Michael’s turn to stare now.

“What do you…” he said before being quickly cut off. “You turn keys counterclockwise or clockwise.” he said, aggravated

“My house is and always has been a counterclockwise.” He pointed at the lock.

“This is not the lock to my house. It turns clockwise to unlock.” Michael began to speak but was once again was cut short.

“And not just this one. The doors at work, in pubs or Lisa next door’s patio door…” He paused as Michael studied him, confused.

“They… they all turn the wrong way. This…” he paused again, this time looking directly into his friend’s eyes.

“This is not my reality. I’m in the wrong reality.” Casey said frantically. He grabbed Michael and shook him as he shouted at him.

“I’M IN THE WRONG REALITY!!!”

Excerpt #54

“Lindsey it’s alright.” said Mac as Lindsey walked away, her cane sweeping in front of her.

“You know I don’t care if you’re blind or your eyes don’t look how you want them to. I just want to see them!” he said. Lindsey didn’t slow down. In fact she sped up.

“You know I told you you won’t see my eyes Mac.” she said as she quickened her pace. She wore huge, darkened sunglasses and in the entire time they had been together, Mac realized that she had never taken them off.

“You won’t see my eyes ever!” She shouted. Mac ran after her pleading with her.

“Please Lindsey. I don’t care what they look like. I love you!” He caught up with her and whipped her around to face him.

“Mac no!” She screamed as he pulled her sunglasses from her face. She had no eyeballs. He had not expected this. He had envisioned them milky white or looking in different directions but not this. Empty sockets met his gaze. Dark, hollow, sockets. The emptiness of them almost staring back at him. His breath stolen he fell in horror to the ground.

“YOU SEE NOW!?” Shouted Lindsey at him.

“Why didn’t you just listen to me?!” she said as she sank to the ground. Her hands found their way to her face as she cried but no tears came. No tears…

Excerpt #53

Sally had stood there stunned. The spaghetti was all over the floor, the patron and his table. She had started to mumble an apology but he had swiftly cut her off.

“No. No. It’s fine I guess. Typical.” he had said, sighing as he had wiped the red sauce from his clothing. He had looked back up at her with a look of complete contempt.

“This is why I’m in academia and why you’re waiting tables.” She had stared at him. Even when he had gotten up to go to the bathroom she had just stood there stunned. Her co-worker had eventually come out and ushered her to the kitchen area. Her whole evening had been a daze, frozen by the single most hateful thing she had ever been told. When she had gotten home it had been her only thought and it still consumed her the next day as she stood on the steps of the man’s home. Recalling the man’s credit card information from work she had easily tracked him down. The rest of the time she had spent writing a long letter to her parents, her co-workers and the man who was a professor at the local university. It wasn’t filled with platitudes to her own weakness or to how they could have saved her. The letter in it’s entirety explained how it was this professor’s fault. It was his fault why her corpse would be splayed out on his doorstep. Why her lifeblood would be spilling down the steps leading to the street below. She placed the last copy of the letter into the mail slot of the door and pulled the gun from her purse. She pulled back the hammer and looked sullenly at the windows of the second story of the New York apartment. She chuckled abruptly as a tasteless joke floated off her head.

“Blood doesn’t clean as well as marinara,” she said. 

Excerpt #52

“So I have a social experiment.” Said Coraline. Joseph looked up at her, brown eyes watching intently.

“Oh? What is it?” He asked.

“Well it would be called. Genuine Conversation or True Conversation.” She began. Joseph sipped on his coffee as he listened.

“The way this would work is that when you met someone you would say GC or TC. Then the other person would say their name followed by the first person. Then they would start a conversation.” Coraline stopped to take a sip of her drink and brush strands of her black hair behind her ear. Joseph smiled at her, waiting for the rest of the explanation. She smiled back at him as she continued.

“They would have to be careful and a little resourceful about it though. You’d have to lead people into information like mentioning relatives in what you say. That or fish for answers but you could do it in a clever fashion that would make talking with this complete stranger well… fun.” Joseph grinned at her.

“Wow. That sounds awesome.” He said. Coraline beamed.

“I’m rather proud of it.” She said, nodding her head in an almost mocking bow of acceptance.

“Much better than those ‘Hello My Name Is’ stickers.” She said, giggling.

Excerpt #51

In the darkness of the pilot’s chamber there is silence. A red light flashes, bathing the small area with an eerie light. The pilot peers up at the light for half a second before pressing the button right below it. Numerous buttons come to life, all shining with the same dull red light. In a perfectly memorized sequence the pilot presses the buttons, a bright white screen appears in front of him. As quickly as it appears it fades to a black color with solid green text appearing on it.

“System status.” It reads, with numerous fluctuating bars. Each indicates a temperature or an amount or some other constantly checked calculation. The pilot moves at a fevered pitch now. The clicks of switches, the hum of systems turning on and the roar of a distant power source. The bars all indicate nominal levels as the pilot reaches a hand over for a massive throttle bar. Fingers locked on with a vice-like grip he pulls it back. The chamber shakes, metal on metal sounds as everything begins to vibrate. An image of the ground outside appears in a black and green on the screen. The pilot grips a stick with his other hand, panning the view from left to right and up and down. A large button now is the only think flashing. It’s large. It’s almost as big as the pilot’s palm and he eyes it, hand on the throttle. Seconds pass and eventually he swings his other hand around, mashing the button with a fist.

“Let’s do this.” He says as the chamber resumes shaking.

Bugworld TTRPG

A Bugworld RPG has been stuck in my head. Framework: Intelligent bug societies. Athropods w/6 legs as the PCs everything else as "animals/monsters." Leaning towards making things like Dragonflies/Mantids the equivalent to Dragons(intelligent predators). Initially want to flesh this out as a #dnd5e setting then can break it out to develop my own game afterwards. I've got some excerpts written out taking place in the setting to launch worldbuilding/background. Initial thought is to keep PC races near the same sizes? Just so there isn't any sort of unbalance though there could be a limit to the PCs based on typical insect size differences? Worker v Soldier ant for example. The problem there is that you then limit cool PC races like Goliath Beetles. Though I guess there's a bit of a disconnect since it's a "fantasy" setting with sentient bugs so modifying sizes might not be such a big issue. 

If there are any to add that would make sense feel free to suggest some.      PC Races: 

Ants: Workers, Soldiers

Beetles: Goliath, Rhino, Stag, Bombardier, Ladybugs

Fleas(Small)

Houseflies

Assassin Bugs

Bees

Wasps

Hornets(Or is this too many flying, social insects?)

Butterlies

Moths

Grasshoppers

Termites

Cicadas

I was today years old when I learned that the Korean word for “sheathe” is “집” or “house.” Now I’m imagining possessed swords literally being able to inhabit a magical mansion when the blade is sheathed. This would make sense why there’s so many cursed or angry intelligent swords. They’ve gone hundreds or thousands of years w/out being able to enter their homes.

When you drink too much wizard brew... 

Excerpt #49

They walked the Broken Path, so named for the huge cracked and pitted obsidian flagstones that lined it’s way. The party was running low on provisions and the last of the food and water were stored on the pack mule. Zeilberg looked at the dreary expanse of black road. It wound ahead of them over hills, lined on the sides with an unnaturally shadowy forest as far as the eyes could see. They had been on the path for 3 weeks now with no end in sight. He was beginning to wonder if they would ever reach the Ossified Fields. Zeilberg wore his full plate mail. Even though they had not encountered a single enemy during their journey he stubbornly refused to go without his armor.

“Empty fields of bone would be a welcome release from this accursed road.” He muttered. Marian look at him and sighed. She was tired of the endless winding of the road too but she had no want to be in the Fields any sooner. The bones weren’t just from the animals that went there die. There were those stories she had heard… Shaking her head she willed away those thoughts. Franz led the mule at the head of the group.

“Why did we decide to do this again? I don’t remember signing on for…” There was a sudden screech from the left. Bright, angry, red eyes glared out from the deep shadow of the forest. What little light there was glinted off a maw full of glistening white fangs. Marian screamed as Zeilberg drew his sword. The mule brayed and galloped off into the forest on their right.

“NO! It’s just a shadow! Don’t cross into the…” Franz said, turning to the mule. As it passed into the shadow the flesh from it’s bones disappeared. It’s forward momentum lost it collapsed into a heap under the shade of the evil, grey leaved trees.

“Forest.” Sighed Franz. The beast on the left cackled and faded into the darkness. Zeilberg sheathed his sword and walked over to the remains of the mule. He stared at the dessicated remains of the waterskins and bags of food.

“Lets keep moving.” He said. We don’t have any time to waste now.

Excerpt #48

The funeral was over and the crowd shuffled out the the door. The funeral director stood beside the coffin, beginning his preparations for processing the body. Looking up he was startled by a young man sitting in the pew closest to the door. He was watching the director at work with a steely gaze. Realizing that he was seen, the young man stood and walked toward the coffin.

“Oh my!” Exclaimed the funeral director.

“I didn’t notice you there.” He said as the man approached. He stared at the director then stood next to the coffin. He looked down at the dead man, his expression did not change and there was an uncomfortable silence.

“Did…did you know the deceased?” Asked the director eventually. The man turned to face him.

“He was my father.” He replied. The director was momentarily taken aback.

“Oh! I was under the impression that you had died. The rest of the family never mentioned….” He trailed off.

“No they wouldn’t. There’s no love there. I haven’t seen my father in 14 years.” Said the man.

“I’m surprised you came then.” Replied the funeral director. The man stared at him, eyes burning with an inner fire. He turned his gaze back to the dead man.

“He’s still my father.” He said.

Excerpt #47

Kenji sat with his friend Summer eating lunch at Sapporo. They chatted about school as they snacked on Edamame. Soon their waitress returned with their food and they started eating.

“So are you looking forward to the semester being finished?” Asked Summer.

“Yes. Very much so. I can’t stand some of my teachers.” Said Kenji as Summer stuck her chopsticks straight up in her rice. The hairs on the back of Kenji’s neck stood up. Slowly from the corners of his vision a dark fog started to seep in from all sides. He glanced left and right nervously. Summer was talking to him but he wasn’t paying attention.

“Kenji?” She asked.

“I said which class do you hate the most?” He looked at her confused.

“What? Oh…uh. Statistics.” He said, peering over her shoulder as a whispy, skeletal figures began filling the room. They came from under doorways, from the skylight, from the street. Their faces drew terror from Kenji’s soul, fleshless and unequivocally dead. Soon they all circled the table, cackling at the pair as they moved in closer and closer and closer. Kenji quickly reached over pulled Summer’s chopsticks from her rice.The dark fog and spirits receded and were quickly gone from view.

“What are you doing?” She asked. He wiped some sweat from his brow. “Please don’t do that.” He said, almost panting.

“It’s..um..it’s an Asian thing.” he said. Summer just stared at him.

“Oh.” She said before returning to her conversation.

Excerpt #46

Shelley stared at the floor. She sat in a waiting room with soft, horrible elevator music playing. The wallpaper was a terrible, sickly yellow pattern with equally terrible yellow flowers. She moved her feet around the floor, idly. Eventually she looked up at the man, the thing sitting next to her.

“So…” she hesitated. “Not to be rude but how do you see?” The thing turned to her. The entirety of its face was a massive hole lined with human teeth. Leading inside, further than its head had space were more rings of teeth, turning in opposite directions. Shelley shivered at its appearance.

“Hmm?” Responded the thing. It was wearing an expensive grey suit and had a bright orange tie.

“Oh. It’s a little like echo location. Imagine it like flicking the light on and off. You get a temporary glance at everything in the room.” Shelley just stared at his gaping maw.

“You talk but…your jaw isn’t moving…” she said pointing. It laughed.

“Oh yes.” It said. It moved its hand, which looked human enough, along it’s jawline.

“It’s just for show.” It said. Shelley nodded.

“I did have another question.” She said, pausing.

“Why is it you instead of… well you know. Death.” The thing tilted it’s head quizzically then nodded.

“Ah. Well the soul is guided by a physical representation of the last thing it felt in life. The last thing you felt was hunger. I can’t tell you how you died but by looking at you I wouldn’t say it was because of starvation. Normally you can see wounds and the like.” Shelley looked at herself. She seemed to look alright. There weren’t any wounds or anything that would indicate how she had perished. She looked up and the ‘hunger’ was staring at her.

“Uh…did you want something?” She asked. It stretched it’s hand toward her hesitantly.

“Not to sound completely cliche, but would you have anything to eat?” Shelley was surprised but checked her pockets none the less. She found an after dinner mint and handed it to her guide. It unwrapped it and tossed it into it’s 'mouth.’ She watched as it floated down the hole beyond sight. There was a distant grinding sound and the creature sighed.

“Delightful.” It said.