Anon writes some junk

[AnonymousSpeed]

So, sometimes, I write stuff. Single scenes, short stories, rarely anything too long. I feel I'm better at having an idea for an epic than simply sitting down and writing an epic. What can I say, I'm an idea guy.

None the less, I think there's no harm and collecting all my writings here, even if most of them so far have been for the writing contest. You know, to see what people think and have my own little corner. It will also provide a little space for all the miscellaneous scenes and characters I come up with that otherwise might not have a home.

Hi, Hey, Hero Part 1: Beginnings

The idea for this, loosely base super-characters after forum members, has been in my head for awhile, but it wasn't until a friend of mine told me about the superhero writing prompt I got down to writing something. This first entry...I can see if anyone thinks it's a little boring. I had ideas for follow ups but if there's no interest in it, no real point. If there is, yes real point.

Old Timers

A little one-shot type story, effectively a flashback-cutscene type thing for this other story idea I had. I actually like how this one turned out, so a good entry for a good prompt, I think.

The Art of Duction

A another little thing, though unlike Old Timers this was actually supposed to be a prologue, of sorts. There was supposed to be more but I was lazy and didn't get to that, so instead of this being followed by an actual murder investigation, you get...just how two different people meet.

Edited October 14, 2015 by AnonymousSpeed

[AnonymousSpeed]

So, here's a slightly modified version of Old Timers. I made a few small changes, but I'm not sure if I like this version more. Which is why I'm asking for people to say which one they like more, though the differences aren't very large.

“Yeah, well I still think the whole thing’s a pile of gibberish!”

“If you think it’s worth so little, why do you keep arguing with us?”

In the middle of an encampment, four generals sat around a fire, arguing with each other. The sun was mostly set, and their words and the fire made up most of the noise. Over what did they argue? Some had gone and called it a prophecy, though Nochtus, the only male among the four, vehemently argued against the idea. For someone who was supposedly of the opinion is was ‘gibberish’, he seemed to care quite a lot about it.

“Bah, because if I don’t keep you three in check, you’ll just make trouble for everyone!” Scoffing, the man crossed his arms and turned his gaze away from the three.

“Nothing is going to spring forth from the ground and kill us because we’re talking about some ‘gibberish’!” Another general spoke up and scolded, fury in her voice. “You’re just scared that one of your sisters is going to out-do you!”

“Ira!”

“Both of you, quiet!” The first woman shouted, glaring angrily between the two.

“Agrippa-!”

“I don’t want to hear it, Ira!” she snapped. That seemed to quiet to group for a moment as she straightened herself, and until she resumed speaking. “Now, whether or not you think this ‘prophecy’ is that or nonsense, I think we should try and find out who Compus has such great expectations for.”

“Compus is a delusional old fart!” Nochtus boomed. “Father’s an idiot for keeping him around and listening to him!”

“Compus has never steered Father farther from success than you have, Nochtus.” These were the first words the fourth and final of them, Ustrina, interrupted with. Unlike the other four, she’d shown little interest in the subject up until now, and had not looked up from a book she was reading during the whole of the meeting. Even now she seemed more focused on that, smirking to herself rather than separate her view from it’s pages.

“Shut up!” the man screeched.

“Nochtus, calm down, will you? You’re making more of a fool of yourself than usual,” the woman replied, as coolly as she’d interrupted, casually turning to the next page.

“You are making quite a ruckus,” Agrippa added. “Surely now, if just once, we can have a more civilized discussion, can’t we?”

“...fine, fine, we’ll talk about Compus’s stupid not-prophecy,” Notchus muttered, crossing his arms and looking to the the side once more.

“Good. Ira, can I expect you to keep calm as well?” Agrippa turned to the woman as she spoke her name. With a grunt and a nod, Ira confirmed that she would, as Agrippa asked, ‘keep calm’.

“Excellent!” Smiling, Agrippa loosened the posture with which she sat. Ira and Nochtus remained in their bitter positions, while Ustrina continued to keep busy with her reading. That didn’t particularly bother Agrippa, it was very common for her to anything while reading, except fight. As a user of anima tomes though, one might say she did that while reading to. “Now, let’s start from the beginning, okay? ‘Someone of your blood’,” she recited. “That means it could be any of us.”

That was indeed true, all four generals were children of the same man, who was named Ireg. He was an aging but brilliant leader of a rather sizable horde, one which had taken control of most of the island they lived on. Ustrina was the eldest, then two years later came Ira. After her, Nochtus, two years later again. Another two years later, like clockwork, Agrippa herself followed, though none after that. Each of them had little trouble earning their positions as generals, as each had an unhealthy taste for combat. In fact, none of the women there had actually had children, much prefer the thrill and pain of battle to the thrill of men and pain of labor.

“The next line doesn’t help much either,” the youngest of them continued on. “‘A skilled warrior,’ heh, again, could be any of us.”

“Perhaps Compus refers to the most skilled of us,” the eldest spoke up.

“So me?”

“No, me!”

“Ira, Nochtus!” Agrippa groaned. “If you’re just going to get angry about it, go to your tents”

After a pause, Nochtus sighed and slumped down. “Fine. He probably means Ira or I.”

“Ira or me,” Ustrina corrected.

“Quiet,” Nochtus growled.

“Anyway!” Agrippa interrupted. “That’s possible, but he said ‘skilled’, not ‘most skilled’.”

“Just tell us the next part of it!” Ira snapped.

“Not with that attitude I won’t!”

Smiling to herself, Ustrina turned the page and began to speak, from memory, the whole of what Compus had said.

“Ireg, I think we’ve yet to see the best your family can offer. In fact, I have someone of your blood in mind, who I think will make quite the leader. They’re a skilled warrior, young, strong in body and mind. Their spirit is stronger than yours, they’re hungry for wisdom, and...they have conviction. That’s why I expect great things from them, and that they shall have greater success than anyone in this room! Why, they’ll build greater things for them than the steele’s they build for you! History is going to remember this one as a greater hero and reformer than even you in your peak. It’s a shame though, neither of us will live to see it, unless the gods work some miracle for us, but the chance of that is smaller than an ant.” Ustrina hadn’t looked up from her book once as she said that, though still eyes indicated she’d stopped reading. Once she finished reciting, she wordlessly continued her studies.

“I’d say even Ustrina’s got more spirit than Ireg,” Ira said, glancing over at the sister she’d mentioned. “He’s not been on the battlefield himself in decades.”

“Old man’s more a debater than anything else at this point,” Nochtus added.

“Even then, it might not be Ustrina,” Agrippa began. “He did say young.”

At that, the eldest sister ceased to read, and actually slowly lifted her gaze from the book.

“She is the eldest of-”

“Excuse me for a moment, if I might offer my personal opinion,” Ustrina began, her voice tense. Internally, everyone present either gulped or sighed. “I think I happen to be the best candidate for what Compus refers to. Neither Ira or Nochtus I’d qualify as hungry for wisdom, and as for you Agrippa-” The name of the youngest sister was spoken with poison seeping through the eldest’s gritted teeth. “None of us are as in need of conviction or strength of body than you.”

“I’m sorry?” Agrippa began, scowling. “You think my body is weak, Old Hag?”

“You’re the one to use dark magic, if any of us are hags, it’s you!”

“Hey, what was that thing about wisdom?” Ira inserted her own complaints into the mix, “are you calling me stupid?”

“Or me?” Nochtus joined into the fray as well.

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. But as the most well read of us, it stands to reason none are better suited to be a leader than I am,” the eldest scoffed.

“You couldn’t even lead your own damn troops if they weren’t already trained!” Nochtus blasted.

“And you’re barely stronger than I am!” Agrippa added.

“Hmph. The fact remains that Agrippa is the weakest, and you two are the weakest of mind. And as for the ‘young’ part, I’m only forty one years old.”

“Sounds pretty old to me!” Agrippa snapped.

“Oh, and thirty five is so much younger!”

“Wait a minute, I’m only thirty nine! You better not be calling me old either!”

“Hah! Look at you idiots, getting so steamed up over some fossil’s-”

“Shut up you hypocrite! All you ever do is get angry at us for doing the same things as you and being honest about it!”

“Alright, now listen here you whore-!”

“OH! SO YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT BEING A WHORE NOW, DO YOU?! WELL TELL ME MR. CHASTE, WHERE DOES-!”

“Aunt Agrippa, could you please lower your voice?”

The four suddenly stopped where they stood, blinked, and slowly turned their heads back to the speaker of those words. A young boy, around fourteen years of age. Compared to what any of them had been at fourteen, he was quite well built, despite spending most of his time with Ireg’s fellow politicians, especially Compus.

“Uh...ahem, yes, of course Miles,” Agrippa cleared her throat and straightened herself. She and her siblings blushed in embarrassment. Ustrina quickly turned back to her book, while Ira turned her head towards the moon, and Nochtus towards Miles, as Agrippa was doing. “Is there something you want, child?” she asked.

“I would like to know the cause of your commotion,” the boy answered with a nod.

“Oh, uh...ask your father,” Agrippa indicated to her brother, and stood up. “It’s getting rather late, I think I’ll go to bed.”

“And I believe it’s getting a bit too dark to read my book without a lamp,” Ustrina added, getting up herself.

“Yeah...late…I’ll go to bed too.” With that, Ira came to her feet as well, and all three sisters headed off to their tents, leaving Nochtus with the only of his children he knew. There were others, yes, but he’d never stuck around for their birth. Even Miles he took with him more because he’d been stuck there when he was born, rather than because he cared.

“W-w-” the man fumbled, looking about as his sisters went off, and his son stood still, with perfect posture. “Uh, I, we were just, uh…”

“Sir, if I might interrupt,” Miles started, making no gesture at all. “Does this pertain to what Compus had to say at today’s meeting?”

“Well...yes, your aunts seem to be under the impression it’s some sort of prophecy. Of course, it’s all nonsense.” Nochtus has a tone slightly lacking in confidence, and a posture mostly absent of it as he looked everywhere but at Miles.

“Of course sir,” the boy answered.

Nodding, the man rose to his feet rather quickly, bearing an agitated expression.

“Would you like to know what I think, sir?” Miles asked.

“No,” Nochtus snapped back almost immediately. “I would not,” he added, beginning to walking off while mumbling to himself.

All alone, little Miles stood in place, no company but the fire and the sounds of the night. “I think it’s a prediction, not a prophecy,” he began. Now that his father wasn’t there, he instead just looked to where he’d been, imagining some presence to whom to speak. “Compus isn’t spiritual, I don’t think he’d share any kind of prophecy if he had one. I think he just...expects greatness from one of you. You’re all very talented fighters, though, admittedly some of you are smarter than others and some are younger and some more convicted, but…*sigh* you know father…”

Miles turned to the ground, and now began to glance about, looking to everywhere but the area around the fire. “I think Compus is hoping someone will live up to Ireg. He’s known him for a long time and has a lot of respect for him. So, since you and Agrippa and Ira and Ustrina have a lot of potential, he expects that you’ll do something good. Or something like that. I don’t know, Compus doesn’t really like any of you, but, you are Ireg’s children, and you are skilled warriors, and...generally, you fit...ahem, forgive me for speaking casually sir. Good night.”

Also, we have a writing prompt I don't have any ideas for. Someone pointed out to me how Awakening takes place thousands of years after FE3, but the technology is still the same for the most part, and this idea came to me.

Eighteen million trillion thousand billion hundred centillion years ago (give or take six), Chrom and co went on an epic adventure, slayed a dragon, and ruined Fire Emblem forever.

Technology has not progressed for shit since then.