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SF's "Write Your Butt Off" II - Return of Writer's Block


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SF's Write Your Butt Off! II Votals  

11 members have voted

  1. 1. Which submission will you vote for?

    • "The Heart of Dedication"
      0
    • "The Strength Within"
      5
    • "Simply a Hunter"
      0
    • "One More Time"
      3
    • "Perfected"
      2
    • "No One Is Iredeemable"
      0
    • "Going Forward"
      1

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  • Poll closed on 03/09/2019 at 10:00 PM

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Thats an open ended prompt--i like it.

Could be a reflection on the guilt of a good character who did something bad and regrets it and is trying to find redemption.

Could be a reflection on the corruption of a character who use to be a good person and is now a bad person--one monumental, life-changing moment where they did something so despicable it forever separated the person they were before from the person they were after.

Could be a character who really hasn't done anything objectively wrong--he's just been true to himself and lived by his own code--but hes committed an act that the values of broader society have deemed "immoral." And now he must live with the consequences of being viewed as just the worst kind of scum by his peers.


...so many directions to go with this...    

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...Okay, gotta get something off my chest here, hope it doesn't come out sounding mean or whiny.

I may have an idea for this prompt, but I'm on the fence about actually doing it because the last time I did something with my Xenoblade AU, I got "this doesn't fit canon" from Jotari even though I stated outright that it was an AU. That combined with getting no votes was...discouraging to say the least.

On top of that, the idea may not fit that well, because it will focus on not the character who did the immoral act himself, but his illegitimate son that he didn't even know existed until the afterlife, so...yeah.

I don't know whether I should go ahead with it and confuse Jotari more because it's not canon or not. Not trying to point fingers or start drama here...

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1 hour ago, Interdimensional Observer said:

Although I'm not a formal participant, owing to doubts of me being able to truly finish writing anything or with good characters, may I ask the following? 

  1. Does their immorality have to have presently ceased?
  2. Must they have guilt concerning the immoral act?
  3. Must the act have been lacking in any reasonable justification?

I expect the latter two questions to be answered "no" for more creative freedom, but I wanted to get them out the way for others. The first question however, I'm less certain as to an answer for.

No,

no,

no.

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19 minutes ago, Dragoncat said:

...Okay, gotta get something off my chest here, hope it doesn't come out sounding mean or whiny.

I may have an idea for this prompt, but I'm on the fence about actually doing it because the last time I did something with my Xenoblade AU, I got "this doesn't fit canon" from Jotari even though I stated outright that it was an AU. That combined with getting no votes was...discouraging to say the least.

On top of that, the idea may not fit that well, because it will focus on not the character who did the immoral act himself, but his illegitimate son that he didn't even know existed until the afterlife, so...yeah.

I don't know whether I should go ahead with it and confuse Jotari more because it's not canon or not. Not trying to point fingers or start drama here...

My comment on your story wasn't a complaint that it didn't fit into Xenoblade canon, don't mistake it as such. It was an observation that your story could have been an original work with basically no change to the actual events. As far your suggestion goes, the prompt just says write "about" a character, so they don't necessarily need to be the viewpoint or protagonist of the story, they just need to be the main focus. I strongly urge you to partake.

Edited by Jotari
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...I also don't know if this fits the challenge, and it may or may not be the theme I ultimately wind up going with...

But my first reaction to the to the prompt was I want to write a story where Ike is romantically involved with Lethe, and pretty much everyone he thought was his friend and would always have his back disowns him when they find out about it. Because the idea that beorc/laguz relations are egregiously immoral and that Ike by engaging in them has committed an offense that in our moral lexicon would be something akin to child molestation or fratricide is so deeply ingrained in the moral teachings of their culture, that to them supersedes everything else Ike has ever done.  

Almost like a "The Scarlet Letter" type narrative--where society at large says this one supposedly immoral act defines the main character completely and said character has to live as a pariah because of it.  But the real immorality is in society at large, not in the act itself.

Does that count, or is that too much of a stretch?

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2 hours ago, Jotari said:

My comment on your story wasn't a complaint that it didn't fit into Xenoblade canon, don't mistake it as such. It was an observation that your story could have been an original work with basically no change to the actual events. As far your suggestion goes, the prompt just says write "about" a character, so they don't necessarily need to be the viewpoint or protagonist of the story, they just need to be the main focus. I strongly urge you to partake.

Okay, well I kinda took it as a complaint, so thanks for clarifying. I may just go ahead and do it, as the idea of Mumkhar having fathered a child with one of the "pleasure women" that hung around the defense forces and said child is given up by his mother and raised elsewhere until he's old enough to know where he really came from, is honestly too good to not do anything with. Mini Metal Face? Lol please don't call the poor boy that xD

Hopefully this time around the setting will be more important and you won't think it could be an original work. But I will warn you ahead of time that it will NOT fit canon. If you want the details of the AU and what's changed feel free to PM me. Actually it's recommended that you do let me explain, it will help you not be confused. So...yeah. When you see this shoot me a PM.

Edited by Dragoncat
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2 hours ago, Shoblongoo said:

...I also don't know if this fits the challenge, and it may or may not be the theme I ultimately wind up going with...

But my first reaction to the to the prompt was I want to write a story where Ike is romantically involved with Lethe, and pretty much everyone he thought was his friend and would always have his back disowns him when they find out about it. Because the idea that beorc/laguz relations are egregiously immoral and that Ike by engaging in them has committed an offense that in our moral lexicon would be something akin to child molestation or fratricide is so deeply ingrained in the moral teachings of their culture, that to them supersedes everything else Ike has ever done.  

Almost like a "The Scarlet Letter" type narrative--where society at large says this one supposedly immoral act defines the main character completely and said character has to live as a pariah because of it.  But the real immorality is in society at large, not in the act itself.

Does that count, or is that too much of a stretch?

I think it counts, but I also think it might be out of character for Ike's friends to disown him that easily. You might go the other way and say it's more of a sin in Gallia so Lethe is the main focus. Ranulf might be one of the few who don't automatically say she's horrible and sinful, and is conflicted on how he should react.

Edited by Dragoncat
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Owing to procrastination, and liking this prompt, I was actually able to whip together a backstory for an old vague idea I had years ago, but which I never actually put to paper.

You don't have to consider this an official entry, I don't think it really focuses on the immoral character, but I'm putting it up anyhow if you don't mind, a moment's (well it felt like moment in subjective time) quick writing.

Just call it "Oh I am Slain!" I (the Roman numeral). In reference to a little Macbeth line that proves not every quip Shakespeare wrote was gold. I'm terrible with coming up with titles, and I can't think of something not utilitarian for this. Surprisingly only ~1721 words, guess I could do more if I chose to address what I mention at the very end more.

Anyway, here it is:

Spoiler

What stories they were, what a harmless fiction it was, surely there was nothing to it. And yet, there he was, he and his soldiers, no more than a few regiments. 

She was only a woman of her thirties, a kind soul, who lived and presumably would die in the rural backwaters into which she came. She could have lived a wholly normal life, even with the heresy swirling around her, what did it matter to the kingdom that she worked miracles against the orthodoxy, and that she claimed to have wrought a virgin birth? But a famine came, and against human expectations, she rose to defy it, easing the suffering of those affected. She became a matriarch, a strong and charismatic leader whose very words made all who listened shake, their enthrallment rumbling the ground. Though declare she did not an upheaval of the order, to her flocked some rural garrisons, and the masses she gained required but a word to send into rebellion. Cultists had shaken the kingdom to its roots before, dynasties had even fallen to such zealots, and therefore in his eye, for stability to be maintained, she had to die.

A emissaries had preceded his arrival, warnings that the woman explain herself to the authorities, and that she tame her flock and cease her works. She spoke back to them, and stated she meant no harm, but never did she capitulate, she kept from responding on their terms, being lured into a trap. Her steely resolve only heightened fears of rebellion. No spies could he in the months of preparations prior find for this task, her grip on her community was spellbinding. His only eyes were provincial officials, as faulty as they were. For she did not overthrow the provincial governor nor impede the collection of taxes or corvee he had no strong legal grounds to arrest her on. Nonetheless, he had a directive from the prime minister himself to end her. 

How was he to defy the miraculous maiden? He was a match for her, despite his limited formal rank, he had for over two decades been a masterful warrior, defying death with impeccable wisdom. With careful, perfected measure, planned as if by genius intuition, he assumed where she would be on such a night, and had away from her spying eyes his forces properly arranged. 

Under the dim waning crescent, he blinked one eye and so send out the order effortlessly. Quietly, they surged through the town, trying to find her. And yet, she was nowhere to be seen in in the briefest time they had to capture the woman whilst all were in shock. Clairvoyance? Had she snuck away? Surprise fading, he turned to rage, to flush her out and illuminate the darkness with flames. His base instincts pined to bag her, and through outrage he sought to do so. He allowed his forces, into whom discipline he drove and commanded, to become rapine and bring the town to ruin as he and he alone sought her out.

She rode out, into the forests near the town where she would be safe for now. She awoke no sooner than fifteen before the attack, having dreamt of it and almost immediately understanding what it meant. Then came to her another act divine, though it was unwelcome.

In the meanwhile, he was blind, by the glint of fire and an absence of knowing, pursuing but moving not, an empty, frustrating action. He grew hot, in the head, the heart, the gut, the loin, his entire body felt more intense than the flames which surrounded him. An adjutant came up to him as he writhed in pain and asked him with worry what is wrong. The adjutant was stabbed through the heart by his spear, and he then with cry of agony, fell to the ground.

She continued to flee, to find safety in her flock and order it, as she knew might have to and had prepared for it, to war. She had assistance now, but now she too had a burden to bear, furthering sending her soul into unease. Then came a little girl to her, wearing clothing tattered by flames, ashes across her face, her feet barefoot and black, she cried out to the woman, asking for help. Unable to waste time on this girl, another victim of the raid that had just befallen the town, the woman chose to bring her with her, she had horses now, she had room for her to ride on one. She would help her, but not at this moment.

They came to a fair river, follow it and safety was assured. The first strike was lost, not that she had desired it, but the war held some hope she believed. As they went along, something was amiss, not one of her people were stationed were she expected she might be, but these thoughts came much too late. Blood spurted from her mount’s neck, she fell cold to the ground and the horse died beneath her. How did he know where she was? How did he with a steed no better beneath him catch up so quickly? The ambush blow defied all explanation. He stared at her, he was dead inside so it seemed. At his mercy, he pierced one by one each of her retinue dead. Her faced turned to anguish as she saw each and every murdered, the last bloody lunge drove her to unending tears.

He then dismounted, the black soled girl came to his side. He gave her a slight kicking nudge with his leg to leave him alone, she then walked over to his horse. He with arrogance walked over to the woman would not kill her, not here, he would take her away and make something of her before the public. A rebellion prevented, peace restored, hopefully she would understand her death would avert the deaths of all who followed her, easier to kill a supreme leader than their sheep to end a movement. She accepted her likely fate, but stared at him with her own hate and disgust.

A cry broke the pregnant silence. 

She did not know what to make of this. She wished him dead by the lunge prior, she thought he was dead. But were he not, she would have not wanted him to make himself known. Why had her maidservants brought him to her, she had left him in strict security, her flock knew not of him, she had done all she could to extinguish those rumors. All they could tell her is that he was relentless in expressing his want for her, and they felt compelled to bring him to her. “Why on this of all terrible nights?” She wondered in her mind.

He realized what the sound came from, and at its source found what he expected to see unexpectedly. A babe, no older than two. Why would such a child be in this retinue? He felt then that those stories were true, that would be the only explanation. A virgin birth, the child of the maiden. He harbored an inexplicable hatred for the child, and decided he would defy the letter of his orders. He would not capture this woman, nor would he kill her. Ending the ultimate physical proof her miracles, creating life most unnaturally, he would terminate it.

With strength rising from within despite the injuries from her harsh fall, she leaped barehanded at the man tried to take him down. She knocked her child out of his arms and pressed him against the ground. A flurry of fisticuffs, she broke his nose and his left cheek, concussed his temples, fractured an arm, bruised his chest through his armor and continued to pummel away as her hands became bloody. But the little girl ran over, and surprisingly tried to stop the woman. Caught off guard by this, the man regained enough strength to throw the woman off him, into the river. 

When she recovered swam out, the stage of passion was set. On the ground lay her child, the man armed with his spear, the girl a spectator she could not understand. He began with light taps of the blunt end of his spear upon the infant, but quickly intensified things. The child began to cry again, and at its sounding he lifted them up and stripped them of their wrappings, revealing a boy beneath them. He dropped him on his stomach, and made a playful nightmare of it.  He brandished a small whip he had for his horse and switched to using this instead of the awkward and more fatal lance. His soft pale flesh, his unset bones, his bright red blood, all painting a morbid circle around him. The little girl too began throwing little stones at the innocent one. When he felt it was enough, he stopped, grabbed the quieted, drained infant and held him before the woman’s eyes, within her arms' reach Soaked and broken, she had been and was unable to do anything to stop him. Convinced she would die of her filial loss, he climbed back onto his horse, chucked the dying boy into a river, and road off, the little girl trying on her ashen feet to follow him.

On this night beneath the cloudless, starless night sky, a thunderous downpour began. She laid there at the river’s edge, wasting away. As the sunrise approached, the river began to rise and she was swept away, she would try to find her son, who had sunk beneath the surface as he moved with the natural course. The river later crested, and an earthquake was reported at the same time. Her scion was gone, and her people were destroyed, however, she was not. She awoke far downstream, in a province different from the one were she lived her life. She hated this, but could not bring herself to suicide.

Her son had died, once in Heaven, now once on Earth. Twice at his hand, and so would it be a third. Once more she would witness and lament, once more he would be, when a young man like he was in the first, as in the second, stripped bare and scourged. By the same man, with help from the same girl. That time yet to come, seventeen years hence, he would die in her arms.

 

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So, if you're all fine with anticipating the end of this round, fine by me. Jotari is the winner of this round, congratulations!

We'll also go by the prompt he came up with.

9 hours ago, Jotari said:

I would like to wait until the deadline is actually up before making a prompt, but I'm travelling for the next three days so I'll throw one out now on the assumption of victory.

Write me a story about a character who has committed an immoral act (or acts) in their past.

I think that should be just open enough, but also just enough outside some comfort zones to make for a few interesting stories. Entertain me!

Maybe I'll even get around to writing something? That gave me a few ideas.

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I see revealing my sources lost me a vote. Fair enough.

7 hours ago, Shoblongoo said:

Does that count, or is that too much of a stretch?

4 hours ago, Dragoncat said:

I think it counts, but I also think it might be out of character for Ike's friends to disown him that easily

@Shoblongoo I think it's a fantastic concept, and if you like it you should write it.

However, as with Dragoncat I am a bit uncertain of how it will turn out in practice. I don't know how many rules it would violate for me to discuss that without the final submission in front of me, though. Stinkin' rules.

4 hours ago, Interdimensional Observer said:

"Oh I am Slain!" I (the Roman numeral). In reference to a little Macbeth line that proves not every quip Shakespeare wrote was gold.

I must strongly disagree. That line is amazing.

***

I have some ideas as well. One concept I had was actually inspired by Shob's idea, a discussion of the interspecies romances of Fire Emblem and other fantasy settings, but I'm a bit worried it wouldn't be age-restriction appropriate because of certain Fire Emblem tropes and general heaviness.

 

Edited by AnonymousSpeed
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I'm gonna try to do this prompt since I have an actual idea now! Just gotta get it into writing and then I'm set. Maybe I won't flake this time.

Also I'm sorry for flaking the first time round it turned out those weeks were busy so I couldn't focus on it!

Edited by IfIHadToPickADude
Apologies should be genuine, and not come off as jokes.
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22 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

I have some ideas as well. One concept I had was actually inspired by Shob's idea, a discussion of the interspecies romances of Fire Emblem and other fantasy settings, but I'm a bit worried it wouldn't be age-restriction appropriate because of certain Fire Emblem tropes and general heaviness.

I think it should be easy enough to do that topic without smut. I mean my idea literally has military prostitution in the backstory of it and I'm certain I can keep it pg 13, so...

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I had two ideas. One for someone who has commited a single small sin once, but who now became a chronic sinner who simply doesn't care anymore, and thus their conscience has been mostly if not completely corrupted by the time the story takes place. The other idea is regarding an atoner hero who fails everyone who mattered to him and who now wanders the Earth, searching for redemption and seeing how his actions screwed up the world and the people he knew.

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9 minutes ago, Dragoncat said:

I think it should be easy enough to do that topic without smut. I mean my idea literally has military prostitution in the backstory of it and I'm certain I can keep it pg 13, so...

No, it's not that- I'm worried the topic might be a bit heavy. Face rubbing wasn't the trope I was talking about. That being said, I figure, what's the worst that could happen? So unless I come up with something else, I think I'll go with this, since it does have some potential.

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Welp that didn't take long.  I'm open to spell checks etc.  But the entry will be here:

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes

Title: Redemption of Grima

Word Count: 1, 069

Spoiler

It was hard to tell when exactly Grima stopped being “evil" and became a “hero".  Even though he once wouldn't have cared what others thought of him, he had since found he does...and that is a thought he doesn't like…especially since they throw around such words as “vile beast" and “filthy demon".  Though they act like they don't say those things, Grima knows that they do. The so called “heroes" from other worlds that he semi is forced to work alongside- worms really- have all manner of words that they use to describe him.  Most he can tolerate since to be fair, he'd killed a few people, threatened death and was generally considered to be the last one anyone wanted to be around because of the general chaos he'd created, however there was a point where that started to change.

 

To kill and destroy had been second nature, though that still sort of was, Grima couldn't help but wonder why it made him feel...ashamed of himself, to feel as if there was black tar slowly making him sink into the inky abyss of hell before the burning began.

 

Perhaps it was the tiny bundles not too far from where he stood, writhing away as their occupants were sucking on their fingers, or their whole hands really.

 

Not too far from them was the one who'd gone through however many hours of labour to bring the pair into the world of Zenith, much to Commander Anna’s displeasure, and doubtless the unspoken rule of not having children in Zenith had been comprehensively shattered with the twins’ birth.

 

Of course it was understandable really, Commander Anna had been both shocked and horrified when the Summoner had been found to be with child.  She had been so furious in fact that Grima had feared the worst. It still amazed him to see the Summoner snap in return, the huge argument lasting a good hour before the red haired woman was comprehensively silenced.  Especially since the Summoner pointed out that she wasn't able to fight so the Commander had better just let it be. That had been one of the few moments where the words had hurt. He had of course kept his features into a schooled mask but deep down...Grima was hurt.

 

The worst was far from over.  It did not take long for the rest of the so called “heroes" to find out.  Some were happy for the Summoner, the vessel actually handled it well- perhaps the knowing look had been for Grima- and had been happy to help where he could.  Those who were not...well Grima had endured worse words. Though that the words were directed at the Summoner made it all the more painful in a way. She didn't deserve their cruelty,

“...Can't even believe she'd let that thing corrupt her like that!”

“You'd be surprised.  Maybe he used dark magic to control her.  Then it'd just be a matter of time before we're all ruined.”

“Ya really think she's lost the plot?  Maybe we need a new Summoner!”

“Yeah right and who'd say that to the Commander?  Not me. They've made their bed may as well lay in it…”

“Can you even believe she sunk as low as freaking Grima?!”

“Hard to believe a woman like Summoner could want something so vile as that thing.”

 

~~~

 

Anna had a headache.  She had been furious of course when she found out that the Summoner was with child.  She came to the makeshift nursery and had gone quiet when she saw Grima carefully holding one of the newborns, one of the Morgans.  Both because she'd not expected the reaction, and because Grima wasn’t exactly what she thought of as a fatherly type. She was surprised as he made a conscious effort to keep the child firmly supported in his arms, a tenderness she did not expect to see.  Perhaps they were wrong about the Fell Dragon…?

 

Seeing as the Summoner was asleep, Grima decided to check upon the closest baby.  The newborn gurgling as she wriggled in her blankets, tiny legs kicking as she beheld him with such innocent eyes.  A breath caught in his throat. Morgan. That was the name chosen for both babies. He shakily reached out to his daughter, born by the Summoner.  The child having spotted her father's hand was quick to grip it in her own tiny grip. She was surprisingly strong for one so tiny and frail.

 

In that moment Grima couldn't help it.  Strange feelings bubbled up his chest. What was going to happen to them?  Surely he'd be allowed to keep his little family together. He watched as Morgan made the closest apparently expression to a smile.  Such a pure creature...smiling at the most unholy of beings...it hurt.

 

Grima didn't know how long he stood there, his child's hand gripping his forefinger, smiling at him.  It reminded him of the Summoner in a way. Her soft smile, that she saved just for him...he didn't deserve it.  He had done nothing to deserve this level of happiness.

 

He only had to think back to the time before he was summoned.

 

The smell of burning fires, the screams of the dead and dying.  An all consuming blaze of destruction choking the life out of the world around him.  The Fell Dragon smiling at it all, being entirely at ease with it. Assuming he would be free to continue this for eternity.  Nothing could have come close to it...and yet there was that annoying worm that was standing up to him. That wretched girl with that damnable Fang of Naga.  How Grima hated it. The burning, wouldn't have been enough. It wouldn't have…

 

He didn't realise he was crying.  Until gentle hands wrapped themselves around his waist, “Are you okay?” a soothing, feminine voice gently washed over him, a knowing voice that spoke with a tenderness he'd come to lean on.  However just because he was her mate did not mean he could allow himself to indulge in her.

“I'm fine.” He scoffed, and the Summoner chuckled gently,

“Of course.” She replied, used to his natural reactions, “Morgie and Morgan will need to nurse soon.” She said calmly, wincing a little he noticed,

“They seem to have a bottomless appetite…” Grima mused,

“In small doses, yes.  They can only take so much milk.” the Summoner smiled and Grima rested his head on her shoulder.  A bit awkwardly as she was shorter than him.

 

How in the worlds did Grima ever get in this situation?

 

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Oh, I didn't realize a new round started. I have the perfect character to use for this prompt. A Daein who used to have prejudice against laguz and Branded just like many of the others, and fought in the Mad King's War, particularly during the battle at Nados Castle. So logically, he attacked and killed innocent Crimeans and laguz. At one point, he met Ike and got into a big fight with him as well. Dragoncat knows who I'm talking about. :P Technically, the guy was created by my co-author, but I added more depth and development to him over time, so we co-own him.

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46 minutes ago, Anacybele said:

Oh, I didn't realize a new round started. I have the perfect character to use for this prompt. A Daein who used to have prejudice against laguz and Branded just like many of the others, and fought in the Mad King's War, particularly during the battle at Nados Castle. So logically, he attacked and killed innocent Crimeans and laguz. At one point, he met Ike and got into a big fight with him as well. Dragoncat knows who I'm talking about. :P Technically, the guy was created by my co-author, but I added more depth and development to him over time, so we co-own him.

Yay Jerec!

He also really loves rabbits xD

@Rapier You think if we get enough entries for this round, the poll can be multiple choice? So people vote for maybe two favorites?

Edited by Dragoncat
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Sorry for the double post, but here's my entry! I was able to do a quicker and shorter one this time. It's half as long as my first entry, in fact. No need for a bunch of unnecessary lore or whatnot. :)

Title: The Daein Vagabond
Words: 4206
Fandom: Fire Emblem PoR/RD

Spoiler
The Daein Vagabond
 
Ike...
 
A handsome man with dark red hair and deep plum eyes stood there, almost in a trance-like state, as he was seemingly staring straight into the mirror in front of him. He was being fitted for a formal suit...or rather, one as formal as he could afford in his current financial situation. A moment later, a voice belonging to a middle aged man snapped him back to reality.
 
"Well, Jerec, what do you think of this?" the tailor spoke up.
 
Jerec's head snapped a bit as he blinked.
 
"Oh! Sorry about that," he replied in his deeper, almost baritone voice. "I've...had a lot on my mind."
 
"Ah, but of course. You are getting married, lad! That must be a lot to think about indeed!"
 
"Yeah..."
 
Jerec was to be wed soon, that was true. And he was naturally excited. However, the truth was that he had been thinking about much more than the upcoming ceremony and celebrations. Many things had led up to this moment for him, and he was still processing it all even now. He took a moment to view himself in the midnight blue overcoat and dress pants the tailor had allowed him to try on. It didn't have many details beyond a few hints of gold embroidery, but it was only the beginnings of what Jerec was to wear as a groom.
 
"I like this," he decided with a smile, twisting and turning a little in front of the mirror. "Think it could have a few more details added to spice it up a little though?"
 
"Oh, of course! I can always have more embroidery added and anything else you'd like," the tailor replied. "And I must agree with you, you had the right idea going with dark blue as the primary color. It brings out your hair and eyes very well!"
 
"Heh, thanks. I wasn't even thinking about those things either," Jerec admitted. "My fiancee and I want to show the union between a Daein and a Crimean, and the best way to do that is to use the darker colors Daein nobles tend to wear and the lighter ones Crimean ones go with."
 
"That works too! Though don't Daeins wear black a lot, not blue?"
 
"Yeah. But I wore it a lot myself, so I wanted something a bit different. Dark blue was the closest I could think of that I'd like."
 
"Ah, I see. Dark blue looks better anyway, I would say."
 
"I do agree..."
 
The tailor noticed Jerec seemed to trail off with his words.
 
"Are you alright? I realize wedding planning must be difficult at times."
 
"...Oh, it's not that. I'm fine. It's just...it seems not so long ago that I couldn't talk about my heritage so...freely. It's still taking some getting used to, I suppose."
 
"Ah, I can understand that. It does seem like a short time ago, despite that it's been months. But do not worry, you know now that no one in our fair Rivertown will judge you at all after you had helped save us that day."
 
"Yes, and I'm glad of that."
 
Indeed, Jerec was happier of this than anyone could ever know, save for his fiancee, Melanie, of course. Previously, Jerec hadn't felt like he could go many places or talk to many people in the kingdom of Crimea at all because of his Daein origins. As a former Daein soldier, he had fought in the Mad King's War, a conflict that had ravaged all of the continent of Tellius. What made it worse was that his father was one of the original Four Riders, the four powerful generals of Daein. And they were the most feared people throughout all of Crimea, most of all during the Mad King's War. All of them were now dead, but even so, some Crimeans still did not want to hear a single word of them. It was too much pressure for Jerec at times, always fearing judgement and hostility if any clue of where he had come from had gotten out at all.
 
The day the tailor was referring to, where Jerec had helped defeat a group of bandits that were overrunning Rivertown, was also the day Jerec had met Melanie. He had been near fatally wounded, and she and her then-fiance, a seemingly high and mighty man named Raphael, had found him bleeding in an alley. They brought him to Melanie's house where she treated and saved him. The two had found that they could have many conversations together that they couldn't with others. Melanie revealed that her engagement to Raphael had been arranged from when they were small children, but that she had begun to see him more like an older brother, rather than a potential lover. She had not wanted to hurt her parents, or his, and tell them that she wished to cancel the ceremony. She had no idea what to do.
 
Much like Jerec had about his own situation. She had secrets she confided only in him. And he had the same for her. They had not wanted to admit it at first, but over several days during Jerec's recovery, their newfound connection was turning into love. Out of fear of not only his heritage being discovered by the wrong people, but also causing Melanie's and Raphael's parents to be furious and possibly the entire town to erupt, Jerec chose to leave as soon as he could. He could feel his heart wanting to shatter at the idea of leaving the woman he'd been able to talk to about anything. The woman he'd lost his heart to. Unfortunately, Raphael had caught him and Melanie after she'd initiated a kiss with Jerec. And after a violent confrontation, Jerec fled in tears. He made for the Daein border, as at the time, he had been summoned back there by his old mentor, Tauroneo, who had once been a Daein Rider himself until he was stripped of the title for probably petty reasons.
 
Raphael, bitter and jealous, had drawn the attention of other townsfolk as well, and now all of them had known of Jerec's origins. And yet, Melanie still chased him down in Daein, by herself, with only a bag of clothes at her side. She loved him, and she hadn't been giving up on him that easily. Jerec wanted her to go back home, so she would be safe. But she refused. Jerec had convinced her to finally make her choice and tell everyone that she never wanted to marry Raphael. She still loved Raphael as a brother, but nothing more. And she would do her best to explain that to him. Jerec, still very much concerned about her safety in a country that was still hostile towards Crimeans as well as himself since he had technically committed treason, could not say no to her anymore. He worried, but he loved her as much as she loved him and there was no way she was going to leave.
 
Melanie had gotten to see first hand the struggles Jerec had had. They were attacked once along the way, and nearly killed until an old close friend of Jerec's stepped in. Raphael had secretly followed them, and though he was much worse for wear when he found them, having frostbitten fingers and toes, grown fatigued, and his previously nice clothes tattered, he still attempted to fight Jerec. People in Nevassa, Daein's capital, gave him glares if they looked at him, even though the current Daein queen had forbade them from confronting him, as she was understanding of Jerec's reasons for the "treason." And of course, in Crimea, those who had found out about Jerec's origins had initial hostility towards him.
 
"And when I say save us, Jerec, I mean it in more ways than one, you know," the tailor continued. "You didn't just rescue us from bandits when you and the Greil Mercenaries came to town. You made all of us re-examine ourselves."
 
"I...did?" Jerec wondered, raising an eyebrow.
 
"Of course. Remember, we were all victims or affected by what the Daeins did in the Mad King's War. In our town's famous stubborn nature, we'd become blind with hatred for them for what they did, without thinking that even one of them could be a good person. Or become a good person if they were not one."
 
"Really? I mean, I'm aware of that change, of course, but I figured that was more my fiancee's doing than mine. Melanie was the first one to trust and care about me. And then the rest of you followed suit after...well, a lot of things happened."
 
"Yes. But if you hadn't come here, we'd still be the same old stubborn, hateful Rivertown. You both helped change that. We'll probably always be stubborn to some degree, but you certainly made us let go of a little of it!"
 
"Heh, I suppose that's true."
 
Jerec's thoughts then went to Raphael. He had been saved alongside him and Melanie after the attack in Daein that led them to Jerec's friend and best man-to-be, Colton. And like others in Rivertown, he, too, had re-examined himself. And even revealed that he had a secret of his own. His parents had been pressuring him to go into politics and marry Melanie. And while he loved Melanie, he hated politics, and all the pressure. He didn't even like the way he was forced to talk at times. What he had really been doing was trying not to lose Melanie and upset his strict parents who, while they enjoyed watching plays once in awhile, thought the idea of being in them was silly. What he really wanted to do was act. He loved acting, plays, and writing them. It would take him time to accept and understand Melanie's true feelings. And he did realize that she still loved him in some other way regardless.
 
And now, Raphael was Jerec's friend and groomsman. And a brilliant actor and playwright. He had even convinced the traveling troop he had joined to come to Rivertown to perform one of his plays at the wedding reception. It wouldn't be very long since they didn't want to take up too much of the reception's time, but even so. Jerec would say Raphael was the most notable change to happen here.
 
A moment later, the small bell on the front door of the tailor's shop rang. In came in Raphael himself, no longer constantly donning the rather dressy outfits he used to wear and also hated. Now he more often wore a more casual shirt and pants with a pair of boots. Of course, his strict parents did not approve. His father seemed angry a lot, though didn't attempt to do anything to confront his son. And Raphael's mother, as soon as he'd first left to join the traveling troop, cried and wondered if her son was angry and would never let them see him again. She did her best to be supportive anyway, despite her dislike of Raphael's choices. The two were going to go to the wedding to give him a chance to show how happy he was, and how good he was at his passion. And hopefully, they would be proud of him.
 
"Ah, Jerec! I hoped I'd find you here," Raphael greeted. "Wow, you look good in that color, you definitely should stick with it for your suit."
 
"Oh, hey, Raphael," Jerec greeted. "I will be going with this, actually. Glad you like it! So what's up?"
 
"I just wanted to ask if you had anything mind for us groomsmen to wear. We don't have to go with a bunny theme or something, do we?"
 
Jerec blushed slightly. Melanie must have told Raphael about his love for rabbits. Thanks a lot, Mel.
 
"No, you don't," Jerec replied. "Don't worry, even I think that would be silly. It would be best if all of you wore the same color, though, so you, Boyd, and Colton can discuss that amongst yourselves."
 
"Alright. I've met them already too, so that shouldn't be a problem. Wait until you see my play though, you and Mel should both love it!"
 
"Heh, I hope so! I don't really have any particular taste in plays since I've barely had the pleasure of seeing one, so it shouldn't be hard to impress me, at least."
 
"That was the easy part, yeah. Mel, on the other hand... I definitely had a harder time with coming up with things that would appeal to her, but I believe I have done it!"
 
One thing that had never changed about Raphael was his enthusiasm and sometimes dramatic manner. He lived for the drama of the stage, so he tended to project that into his everyday life too.
 
"Great!" Jerec replied with a smile. "I'll be out in a moment, by the way. I have to change back out of this so the tailor can do some more work on it."
 
"Alright, I guess I'll wait up for you then and talk more later. Might help the wedding preparations anyhow."
 
"Indeed."
 
With that, Raphael departed the shop to allow Jerec to put his own casual clothes back on. After Jerec changed, he then discussed with the tailor what he'd like to be added to the suit and how much it would cost. When the tailor had said things happened months before, he was right. When Jerec first proposed to Melanie, he couldn't even give her a ring. He had proposed at that time because he didn't want to make her wait until he could afford a ring. Since he'd left his position as a soldier in Daein, he was working as a mercenary in Crimea, only scraping by with whatever money he earned. When Melanie had saved Jerec from his injuries after the Rivertown bandit attack, she found she had a talent and liking for caring for wounded soldiers. So she took up work as a nurse, not only in Rivertown, but sometimes in Melior, the Crimean capital, as well. She did not know how to use a healing staff, but she was good at bandaging wounds and preparing medicine. She and Jerec took on as many jobs as they could to set aside funds for their wedding, and though Melanie said she didn't really need to have a ring, Jerec wanted to get one for her anyway. So he also saved for that.
 
And to their surprise, they weren't the only ones helping with wedding funds. Melanie's parents chipped in as well, and even Raphael also gave them some money. Furthermore, a man whose family Jerec ended up rescuing on the same day he met Melanie also chose to pay him back by offering funds. Jerec didn't want to accept, but the man insisted, saying he owed both him and Melanie since Jerec rescued his family and Melanie treated his own injury. So now, Jerec and Melanie had a nice budget to work with, even after the engagement ring was bought. Though to save some money, Melanie's mother was helping with meal preparations, and Raphael was assisting in decorating the building where the reception was to be held. As an actor, he also had some idea of how to set up dazzling decor like on a stage set. And of course, they weren't asking to be paid.
 
When Jerec and the tailor were satisfied with the ideas and pricing, Jerec thanked the man for his services and went outside to rejoin Raphael. As the actor had said, he was waiting there, his short brown hair lightly swaying in the breeze.
 
"Hey again," Jerec greeted.
 
"Ah, you did finish quickly," Raphael pointed out. "Nice work. So, what do you plan to do next?"
 
The two began walking down the busy Rivertown street.
 
"I'm not sure yet. I guess it'll depend on what Mel wants to do when I meet up with her again," Jerec replied. "She went with Fayna and some friends to choose her wedding gown."
 
"Ah, right. Fair enough. Who was it that she picked to be her maid of honor again? It was a friend she met at Castle Crimea, right?"
 
"Yeah, Lady Erica. They became close pretty quickly. I believe Erica is traveling here now as we speak."
 
"Oh, right! That's the girl General Geoffrey recently married. I must say, Mel is getting around these days. She meets a general in Daein with you, and then a general's wife in Crimea, and then you two are going to meet Ike and Elincia in Altarais!"
 
Jerec and Melanie decided to use their honeymoon to visit friends who had left Tellius and gone to the continent of Altarais across the sea. Elincia had previously ruled Crimea until she chose to give the crown to her uncle, who had originally been the heir anyhow. She then chose to find Ike in Altarais and they were later wed. Jerec had more business to attend to when he next visited them anyway. Tauroneo had asked him to pass along some information. Very sensitive information.
 
"Indeed. I do wish I could invite them too, actually," Jerec replied. "I would've made Ike a groomsman in a heartbeat, and I doubt Mel would've objected to Elincia being a bridesmaid. But...yeah."
 
"True, they're not only your friends, but you found out you're family too. Crazy. But..." Raphael began and trailed off. "Don't take this wrong way, Jerec. It might be best that they don't come anyway."
 
"What do you mean?" Jerec wondered, raising an eyebrow. Raphael was right, as the information Jerec had to pass to Ike was that they were indeed family, first cousins by way of their mothers having been sisters. He'd already told Ike's sister, Mist, who was a member of the Greil Mercenaries and the group Ike previously commanded. All of them were invited to the wedding.
 
"Well, remember how famous those two are, Ike especially," Raphael pointed out. "I'd be afraid of them drawing more attention to themselves than you and Mel, even if they don't mean to do so."
 
"Oh... Yeah, I hadn't thought about that. You're probably right."
 
Elincia had been well known enough as a kind queen, but Ike's fame seemed to know no bounds after he'd played a major role in saving all of Tellius twice. Raphael had a point, even if it was an unfortunate one. Still, would Ike and Elincia insist on going anyway, if they were able?
 
"But maybe they'd want to go anyway, if the distance wasn't an issue," Jerec continued. "We would just have to make sure everyone remembers that the event is for myself and Mel, not them, and that they're just guests. They don't want all of that attention anyway."
 
"True, yeah. But of course, we'll never know for sure," Raphael said.
 
"Indeed. I'm...sorry if talking about Ike makes me feel a bit down, by the way, even if he's my friend. There are other things he reminds me of besides that friendship..."
 
Jerec couldn't help now but think more on the matter again, just as he had been in the tailor's shop. Jerec's meeting Melanie and visiting Tauroneo had but only been one stepping stone in the journey that led him to who he was and what he was doing this day. In reality, that journey had begun with a single meeting long before that, and with the one man Jerec unfortunately could not invite to his wedding.
 
Ike.
 
Jerec was still a Daein soldier, and just like many other Daeins, did not like Crimeans or laguz, a shape-shifting race that could transform into different animals depending on their species. He was misguided and misled by Daein teachings, and his own hot-headed attitude. And he had been saddled with asking Crimea for assistance after Daein's defeat at their hands. They were being threatened by a third party of strange laguz that sought to take control of a weakened Daein, and they obviously didn't have the personnel needed to protect the country.
 
This was where Jerec met Ike, the man who would begin the journey of change he had taken.
 
The two were not fond of each other at first. The Greil Mercenaries didn't get along with Jerec either. They all had to grin and bear working with each other throughout the journey. And yet... Even after Jerec reached a point where he lost his mind and tried to take Ike down only to be embarrassed by the mercenary's skill with a blade, Jerec began to see what made him different from the tales and accusations Daeins would make about him. Because Ike was Crimea's general in the Mad King's War, Daein had begun seeing him as a villain and enemy. Jerec did the same at the time. And when he saw two laguz betray their clan to fight against their leader and Ike take on the leader himself, something changed. Ike had very nearly died in the battle, and yet he wanted to win as much as Jerec had. Jerec later learned from Ike that he'd had one policy throughout the Mad King's War. His aggression was only for Ashnard, the then-king, and his followers. Not the other Daein people. He had no quarrel with them, and had even wanted to help them. It literally shocked Jerec to learn that Ike had attempted to give food and gold to the innocent Daeins, only to get spat in his face.
 
Thus, began Jerec's own dislike for his own country and people, disgusted of how he and they were blind to who Ike really was and what the laguz really were. And that began his respect for Ike, and his change into the man he was now. Into the kinder man that would fight for all innocents, beorc and laguz alike. Into the man that would win Melanie's heart and marry her.
 
"Hey, don't let the past bother you anymore," Raphael comforted a few moments after Jerec's silence ensued, sensing his friend's thoughts. "Believe me, you don't want to. I had to do the same thing, if you remember. Mel reminded me of that, and now I'm reminding you."
 
"Yeah, but... I still can't seem to look at anyone's graves here without wondering if I was the one that killed any of those deceased. I can't seem to look at any renovated homes and buildings without wondering if I had played a role in damaging them. And so on..."
 
"I know... We both made awful choices and will always regret them. I'm never going to forgive myself for hitting Melanie in the face, even if it was an accident, and trying to kill you in Daein. And I know you won't forgive yourself for your role in the Mad King's War. I understand that you feel you might've been responsible for the deaths of some friends or family of people here, including Melanie's. But you would never have known that they were related to people here, and we'll never know for sure if you did kill them. And it doesn't matter now. It's the future we look forward to and a person's past doesn't define them. We looked past each other's misdeeds, didn't we?"
 
"Yeah... That is true. And I'm always glad of that."
 
"Exactly! I am too. Now let's get off that somber subject, we're supposed to be excited for a glorious wedding!"
 
"Heh, that's true too, and I'm definitely excited," Jerec agreed, finally smiling again.
 
"Also, here's some news that might make you even happier," Raphael continued.
 
"Oh?"
 
"I heard a little rumor that a certain someone is being considered for a position in the Crimean army!"
 
"...W-What? You mean me?!" Jerec gasped, wide eyed.
 
"Yep! Isn't that just splendid?!"
 
"I...I don't know what to say. I'm not sure I deserve that.."
 
"Of course you do! You've been praised for your skill as a mercenary, and weren't you that one fighting in the Crimean Irregulars during the Goddess War that people said was really strong? Word of that traveled here after a time."
 
"Well, I was, but... Wow. I'll definitely think about taking the offer if they make me one. I would be honored to fight for Crimea and it would help Mel and I financially too."
 
"Good thinking! And you know I'll support you all the way too. Now, we've got a wedding to continue planning! Why don't we grab a meal while waiting for Mel? Getting a wedding gown ready probably takes a lot longer than any suit you could get."
 
"Yeah, that sounds good to me. Thanks for the talk, Raphael, I needed that," Jerec said, a large grin forming on his face. "I need to think about the future and quit dwelling on the past. It's the past and it can't be changed."
 
"Exactly! Now, be sure you let me know when you and Mel plan on having a kid or two, if you do. I need to make sure they get love and support from their Uncle Raphael too," Raphael added, winking.
 
"Heh, sure thing," Jerec agreed with a chuckle. He definitely had needed a little cheering up, and now he was growing more used to and happier with truly being a part of Rivertown and Crimea.

Oh yeah, next time, I'll try to use a setting other than FE. Or at least, other than Tellius FE.

Edited by Anacybele
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Title: Declawed

Words: 3232

Fandom: Xenoblade 1 (AU)

Spoiler

A week had passed since the young man Farran had met his biological mother, yet what she had told him still stung and felt like he'd just heard it. "You look too much like your father..." had been her first words to him. And then she proceeded to tell him he had been a complete accident, his father had paid her for a night of...well, he couldn't even call it passion, he didn't know WHAT to call it. And she knew she couldn't keep him, and of course his father would have nothing to do with him, so when he was born, she left him on the doorstep of a church with a note stating her name and saying he was welcome to find her someday to ask about where he came from. She didn't even care to name him! When he asked about it, she had said it would be harder to give him up if she did.

He was working with his adopted father Roark now, helping build what was going to be a hotel. Colony 6 had been flattened during the war nearly two decades ago, and there was still reconstruction work to be done even today. Roark noticed Farran just staring at his hammer, looking conflicted. He sighed and walked over. "Farran. I understand, this is a lot to take in...but you have to move on."

"Easy for you to say. I can't help thinking part of me is a monster...yet I'm still oddly intrigued. I will always call you my dad, but...I have this almost sickening desire to find out as much as I can about..." Farran clenched his fist. "What do I even call him?"

Roark frowned and patted his adopted son's shoulder. "It was a shocker to me too. I knew you had to have somewhat of a tragic backstory, but the son of Metal Face...never expected that."

"Right. Metal Face. I'll just call him that...although my biological mom said his name was Mumkhar 'before he went insane'. I don't think he was completely sane before though!" Farran paused to watch a brown tabby cat jump into a flowerpot about a few yards away. Somebody should tell the colonel his cat got out again. Everybody knew Bullet when they saw him, he was like the mascot of the defense force, fluffy and plump, and plus he wore a collar. "Dad, I'm afraid I'll eventually become a madman like him..."

"You won't."

"I might. I think I need anger management sometimes."

Roark sighed. "Well...here's an idea. He attacked Alcamoth, and there are a couple entia here today. Perhaps they know something? Entia are snooty sometimes though, and nosy...I wouldn't tell them why you're asking about him. If they ask why, lie. Say you're, I dunno, a journalist or something."

Farran stared at Roark. "You don't think they'll figure it out? My biological mom said I look a lot like him."

"He was in his mechon! I'm sure they won't."

----

Two men with white feathered wings extending from their heads were near the outskirts of Colony 6, roasting an amphibious creature called an upa over a fire. The self proclaimed "high" entia race ate a lot of seafood, being from Eyrth Sea, where floating islands were linked by transporters that were entia technology. This upa was slightly different than what they were used to eating. Apparently there were upas in Colony 6's Ether Mines, but this one had been caught in the nearby Raguel Lake. It was the first thing that took the bait, and it looked edible enough.

One of them had silver hair in a small tuft sticking up from his forehead and light green eyes, and the other was blond, short basic hairstyle, with blue eyes. They were both wearing clothing that was fancy compared to the clothing worn by the homs of the colony, adorned with trinkets, and light armor over it. The tufted silver one poked the roasting upa with a small hunting spear. "Don't think it's done yet, dammit. I'm hungry."

"Go into the colony and buy snacks from the homs then."

"Nah, I'm good. I'm eager to figure out what upa tastes like. I don't think the homs eat them. But they eat mostly meat from birds and mammals, it seems." Brief pause. "So, Kaizel...I heard you've been assigned to help the prince with his schoolwork. How's that working out for you?"

"Decent I guess." The blond entia shrugged. "The other day I told him we were going to do science and he asked me if he had to dissect a frog. I said I didn't think so. And then he asked if we were going to blow something up. He seemed disappointed when I brought out worksheets and said that was it."

His companion gave him a small smirk. "Well, just think, you were almost his father instead of his tutor. Did you ever figure out why Rathnik won over you, by the way? You had a pretty good chance."

"Oh, shut up, Jaylen."

"I'm legit curious! It was between you and him because Solus was power hungry and Eagen is a wuss. Did you not fluff enough or something?"

"I fluffed until I felt like my feathers would explode right off my head. Puffed my chest, smouldering gazes, tried to make myself look as attractive as possible. But...the strutting. I failed at that." Kaizel sighed. "Once I saw Rathnik cutting a rug like that in the ballroom I knew I'd lost. You should've seen him. Tango, waltz, cha cha...I don't know what dance that was exactly but he nailed it. Meanwhile I can barely even do the hokey pokey right."

"That's what it's all about." And then Kaizel swiped at Jaylen and he ducked. "Okay, yeah, that was lame. But I bet if you put yourself out there, you'll score eventually. Despite your two left feet. Homs females don't always care too much about dancing and strutting skill, I think."

"Yeah, but I don't want someone who will grow old and die long before me. The differing lifespans is an issue. I'll have to find an entia girl who's not so picky."

"Good point."

"Excuse me..."

Both entia's wings stiffened and perked slightly, like they were startled. Farran had approached from behind, so they didn't notice him. Jaylen blinked at him. "Hello, homs. If this is about the upa, we've never eaten them either. If they're not edible please let us know." Meanwhile Kaizel was hoping this homs hadn't heard his and Jaylen's conversation, it was kind of embarrassing.

"They...might be edible." Farran stared at the roasting upa. "I've seen volves eat them. But they avoid the light antenna, so I suggest you do too."

Kaizel looked at the antenna and blinked. "...Yeah, that's advisable. It might have venom in it that can cause poisoning."

"I was thinking it'd start glowing in the stomach and come out glowing a day or two later, but that sounds worse." Jaylen said. Kaizel rolled his eyes slightly.

They seem friendly enough...here goes. "I have a question." Farran began. "I'm a...reporter, and I have to ask you what you know of Metal Face and his attack on Alcamoth."

The two entia looked at each other, then back at Farran. "I was in one of the lookout towers." Kaizel explained. "I was in charge of looking for anything suspicious coming from the air. We all thought our security system would never let anything get through though, so we pretty much just told jokes and stupid stories over the radio, until Lord Kallian tuned in one time when we'd had a few drinks and the conversation got...wild and raunchy-"

"You were talking about nopon screwing in light bulbs and then Jarack from the ether plant chimed in with the filthiest damn joke I've ever heard in my life." Jaylen butted in. "Made my jaw drop when I heard it. You could tell that joke in a bar and get told 'woah, buddy, watch it, there's mechanics here.' I honestly just about puked, it was DISGUSTING."

Kaizel shrugged. "And Lord Kallian yelled at all of us and said we weren't allowed to do that anymore. And what he says goes. He banned cliff diving for soldiers because some lady hit a rock and cracked her head open. So...we don't really do anything too crazy for fun anymore."

"Lord Kallian, the empress' brother?" Farran asked.

Kaizel nodded. "Yes. Anyway, after the comedy club was banned, I was bored out of my mind, and one day I saw the security drones moving faster than normal. A closer look, and they were chasing something. A big black mechon with massive claws. I immediately hit the crisis alarm button."

"And then the whole city was in lockdown and the fighter airships came out." Jaylen added. "Somehow, Emperor Sorean got out of the city and made his way to Prison Island, where he was killed by that big black mechon that we now know as Metal Face."

"But he'd already named his heir, so things didn't go to hell that easily. After that Lord Kallian rounded up an allied force made up of entia, homs, and nopon. Alcamoth had officially joined the war that the homs had been fighting for a few years already."

Farran raised an eyebrow. "It took you until you got attacked before you decided to help."

Kaizel's wings wilted slightly. "We thought we were invincible and...I guess we didn't really care that much about the homs...figured they could handle it themselves, but clearly they couldn't. But then we found out that Metal Face WAS a homs just stuffed into a machine, and that was confusing. And that's...really all I can tell you without getting into classified Alcamoth information."

Now Farran knew that his biological father had actually killed someone by his own hand...but he'd also had basic mechon under his command during the attack on Colony 9, so maybe... "Tell me more about the emperor's death. Was his killer really Metal Face? How sure are you?"

"One hundred and ten percent." Jaylen said. "I didn't see his corpse myself, but those who did said he had a large, clean stab wound on his chest. Metal Face had claws, and those claws went straight through the poor emperor's heart. Empress Melia was there with him. She doesn't openly talk about it other than confirming that yes, that stab wound was inflicted by Metal Face's claws."

That was as much proof as Farran was going to get. "I...see. Well, thanks."

"Hey, homs." Kaizel called after Farran as he turned to leave, and he tensed. "You don't look like you're much through your adult years, yet you're clearly old enough to have been alive and remember some of the war. If my guess is correct, you were little more than a fledgeling, or whatever the homs term is, during the attack you asked about."

NOW they're suspicious. "Yeah, so?"

"Aren't reporters usually a little older than...eighteen or nineteen?"

"I'm twenty."

"He could be an intern." Jaylen suggested. "Yet his clothes are dusty and he looks more like a laborer."

"Everybody does some of the construction in Colony 6. Everybody who can. Now thanks, and goodbye."

----

Farran returned to the construction site, where the workers were eating lunch. Bullet the cat weaved through the crowd getting the workers to feed him scraps. He sat beside Farran and meowed at him, but was ignored, so he jumped onto his lap, causing the young man to startle and raise his arm holding the sandwich in hopes that the cat wouldn't get it.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a cat whisperer." One of the workers said with a chuckle. Bullet kneaded with his sharp claws on Farran's lap, mostly on the tops of his legs, although on occasion he was poking a more private area...

"Bullet! You leave these workers alone!" The head medic and second in command of the defense force walked into the middle of the site. Bullet meowed in protest.

"I said now, you naughty boy!"

Roark raised his head. "Hi Sharla. Having pet trouble?"

"Ugh, yes. He gets fed by everybody so he gets out and acts like a pest. He needs to stop, he's getting fat." Sharla removed the cat from Farran's lap. "I told Gadolt not to spoil him with people food and he still manages to weasel scraps out of him just about every night at dinner."

As the woman left with the cat, Farran couldn't help wondering if this had anything to do with his biological father and his chosen weapon. Claw blades. Claws. Like a cat. Was Bullet drawn to him because of that? Had Mumkhar been a cat person? Was it possible for someone as insane as him to even have a fondness for animals at all?

He was still wondering about that after lunch. Distraction was not good on a construction site. The last thing Farran was aware of before the dropped toolbox hit his head was Roark yelling at him to watch out, and then he was out cold.

----

He seemed to be...floating? The area was dark, yet there were two glowing red lights in the distance that looked like eyes. They were getting closer. They were attached to a silvery gray face mask, which was attached to a large black mechon that somehow was clearly visible even in the dark. The mechon had arms and legs, and at the ends of the arms were long, sinister claws...METAL FACE. 

Metal Face's glowing red eyes stared Farran down. "So you are my son. Huh." The voice was gruff and mechanical. And then the form of the mechon faded, leaving a man in its place. The man's hair was black and tied back, and he had some stubble around his chin and cheeks. His eyes were hazel, like Farran's, and he was wearing leather homs armor. "I can see the resemblance...almost like I'm looking in a mirror but not quite." This time the voice didn't have a mechanical sound, but was still slightly raspy. "Before you ask, no, you are not dead. You're just knocked out temporarily. I made that toolbox drop. Because it's impossible for the dead to contact the living unless the living is asleep or otherwise not awake, you see."

"...You are Mumkhar. My biological father."

"And your adopted parents named you Farran. Decent name I guess. I wouldn't have known WHAT to name you...if I even knew you existed, but I'd just let your mother name you, I guess. But then I'd be required to send her child support payments."

Farran just stared. "But why now? Why after all these years have you just now decided to acknowledge me? Surely you figured out about me before now."

Mumkhar shrugged. "Honestly? I was told by the rulers of the dead I could earn my way out of hell if I repented enough, and part of that was talking to you."

"I guess I understand."

"That's a good boy." For a second, Mumkhar actually looked, and sounded, like a proper father. "I have to get away from Egil. All he does is boss me around and pick on me. 'Metal Face, bring me another one of those oil drops, my arm's stiff.' 'Metal Face, clean up your smelly disgusting mess! I just stepped in it!' For his information that was TAR! He honestly thinks I can still take a dump in the afterlife, and that I'd do it in the middle of the floor? What am I to him, an animal? Sheesh!"

Farran cringed slightly. "From what I heard of him, he was a major racist tyrant, so he probably does think homs are animals."

Mumkhar blinked. "Probably. Slippery son of a bitch anyway...he actually got heaven for like fifteen minutes! Silver tongued the gatekeepers, told them he fought for justice and to save the machina displaced by the titan fight eons ago. But then they dug into his file, or record, or whatever it's called, and saw that he'd committed genocide and war crimes. He had the most pissed off look on his face when he entered hell. I thought it was just because he'd died. Judging from experience. I was impaled by a giant spike in Sword Valley and plummeted to my doom, got crushed by my own metal shell. And I figured Egil had died somehow like that. And that would piss anyone off. But nope, he was pissed because he got kicked out of heaven. He was there long enough to see something interesting though. There's this tree up there that grows things called spirit nuggets. They can taste like whatever you want them to taste like, even if the dead don't need food. And they use them for currency in poker tournaments. And Big Wings is a major sore loser, and he curls up in a ball of feathers and doesn't talk to anybody for hours when he loses!" Mumkhar let out a gruff snorting laugh. "I gotta see that!"

"Big Wings?"

"Emperor Sorey-something or other."

"The entia you murdered."

"He was in my way!" Mumkhar threw his arms up in a "who cares" gesture.

"...Why. Why did you do all that you did? What was the meaning of all that?" Farran spoke in a demanding tone.

"Son, your grandparents treated me like shit growing up. Your grandfather would come home drunk as a skunk and beat the crap out of me as soon as look at me. Your grandmother was no help. And they were both no help when the other kids also treated me like shit."

"You were bullied as a kid so you became a bully yourself because that was all you knew."

"That's the most simple way to put it, yes."

"You were obsessed with power so you would stop at nothing to get it."

"Ngh..."

"Which ended up being your downfall."

"All right already! Stop!" Mumkhar snapped. "Why are you so smart, dammit?!" Brief, awkward pause. "I'm going to return you to the world of the living now. But first...I know you're worried you'll end up like me. I've had some time to think, really think, and I can now tell you that sometimes blood doesn't have to be thicker than water. You're free to follow your own path. I won't bother you. You live your life how you want to."

Farran's eyes widened. Fatherly wisdom...from the psychotic man who was only his father in terms of DNA? "...Thanks? I guess?"

"You're welcome. I guess."

----

"He's moving!"

"Oh thank Bionis!"

Farran's eyes flickered open. He was laying on a cot in the construction site, and a medic was hunched over him. Not Sharla. She hadn't had time, perhaps. Roark and Farran's adopted mother Eliza were nearby. Eliza approached. "Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up? What day is it?"

"...Three. Uh...Tuesday?"

"It's actually Wednesday, but close enough." Eliza breathed a sigh of relief. 

Once he had time alone with Roark, Farran tapped his shoulder. "Dad. Metal Face, or Mumkhar, visited me while I was knocked out. He said blood doesn't have to be thicker than water and to live my life how I want to."

Roark's jaw dropped. "He seriously did? And he said THAT?"

"He did. And I hate him for all he did, but I also appreciate him for that advice. I intend to follow it."

AU explanation for Jotari (and I guess anyone else who needs it)

Spoiler

Basically the timeline splits into an alternate reality at Agrinatha. Gadolt gets to live as you've seen. He's airlifted back to the Hidden Machina Village before Egil can make the city crumble, and unmechonized by Linada. The conflict pretty much dies down after that, because Egil is dead and it doesn't escalate to the point of Zanza needing to get involved. Meyneth leaves Fiora and unmechonizes her, restoring her whole body including the reproductive system that was cut out by Egil because it was in the way, making it possible for Shulk to parent a set of twins with her eventually. The twins made a small appearance in my last entry for this contest. The male face units still had their reproductive systems since they weren't in the way but they didn't work in that state (Farran was concieved during the first war, before Mumkhar was taken and mechonized). Gadolt was impotent for a few days after Linada took the mecha parts out of him and regenerated his missing stomach and intestines. Also took him a month to get his full strength back and he was on a bland diet until his digestive system adjusted. I am at the final fight with Egil and having trouble beating him but I know bits and pieces of what happens afterward.

A note will be added here about the fluffing and strutting the two entia mentioned. Being "bird people" with flightless wings, I figured those wings needed some purpose, so I say they're used for courtship. Think peacocks only both males and females can do it.

Oh, and "somebody should tell the colonel his cat got out again" wasn't a mistake, Otharon retired due to failing eyesight/cataracts and who better to take his place? Bullet was brought home by Sharla and Gadolt's son and daughter as a stray. Gadolt didn't want a cat but eventually warmed up to the furball. Otharon also owns a pet at this time, a chocolate lab guide dog for his blindness named Scout.

 

Edited by Dragoncat
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Title: A Princess's Lament

Words: 2,531

Fandom: Vocaloid(Novelization of Regret Message by Akun-P)

Spoiler

 

 

A cold wind blows across the town square. I shiver slightly and clutch the base of my hood. It would be bad if anyone saw my face gotta be careful. The angry shouts of the townspeople fill my ears as I slowly push my way to the center of the crowd.

“Witch!”

 

“Devil!”

 

“Greedy brat!”

 

Those were but a few of the names I overheard and each name felt like a dagger to the gut. When I finally reach a spot with a decent view, I look up and my heart nearly breaks as I gaze upon the execution platform. There she was smiling with her head securely locked under the guillotine’s massive blade. The princess of lucifer as they called her. A young princess of only age fourteen and the monarch, no, tyrant of this country. It’s hard to believe someone so young would cause this much suffering. My gaze then shifts to the clocktower behind the platform which reads 14:53. It’s almost time.

 

“Attention everyone!” The crowd’s murmuring and angered shouts died down as everyone’s attention was diverted to a red armoured swordswoman standing next to the guillotine.

 

She cleared her throat, “Ladies and Gentlemen! Let me ask you how was it under this princesses rule?! How many of you nearly starved to death while she ate snacks and drained every last citizen of every dime they had! How many lost their lives and families in the war on the green country all because of this devil’s selfish desires!” She unsheathed her sword and pointed towards the sky. “Well no longer do we have to put up with this brat’s greed and tyranny as the time of retribution is almost upon us!”

 

The crowd roared in excitement.

 

The swordswoman raised her hand and quelled the crowd once more “In just seven short minutes the church bells will toll and we will bring an end to her reign once and for all! And a new era of peace and prosperity will be ushered in!”

 

Again the crowd roared in excitement. “Yeah kill her!”

 

“Make her pay!”

“She deserves to die after all the lives she’s taken!”

 

All the townspeople in the square kept shouting things like that. I didn’t join them though. My eyes we focused solely on the clock tower. Each passing second felt like an eternity. My heart pounded as sweat poured down my face in anticipation until finally the clock read 14:59. At that moment rain began to fall.

 

The mercenary grabbed the lever and looked down at the blonde princess. “Any last words you would like to give your people?”

 

The crowds cheers died down as they all looked up at the princess.

 

The princess merely closed her eyes and smiled, “Oh it’s time for a snack!”.

 

With that the hand on the clock moved and the bell chimed. Time seemed to slow down as the bell’s chimes echoed across the town. With each chime my heart seemed to constrict ever tighter, on the third the lever was pulled and with that my heart shattered. As her head dropped into the basket below, the crowd roared in excitement. However I once again did not join them as all I could do was silently weep. The rain grew heavier and the townspeople began to clear out leaving me alone with my tears.

 

“I’m sorry Len” is all I could say.

 

-------------

 

My legs pulse with an aching pain as I stumble through the sloshy mud path. The weight of my drenched cloak grows with every splashing raindrop. I can feel my stomach constricting itself like a snake wound tightly trying to suffocate its prey. Is this what it feels like to suffer? What it feels like to lose everything? If so, I hate it. I miss my bed, my chefs, my baquents, but most importantly I miss him. His smiling face flashes through my head as my heart begins to twist.

 

Which is why

 

Which is why

 

Which is w-why…

 

I feel my chest twist and constrict as if about to burst. “IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME!!!” I cry out as I begin to vomit tears.

 

My legs give out and I splash face first onto the muddy path with some of my belongings spilling out before me. For the next several minutes, I just lay there crying and wailing pouring out every ounce of pain and regret in my heart.

 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorryI’m sorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry!!!” I continuously cry out in between sobs. “I’m sorry len”

 

He didn’t need to die! It was me they wanted. so then why? Why did he choose to accept punishment for my sins? Why did you have to leave me all alone? Why Len?

 

------

 

 

“Who’s this? And why does he look like me?” I ask narrowing my eyes at what looked to be a male version of me wearing a butler uniform.

 

The older butler next to him placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “This is Allen Avadonia, my lady and starting today he will be serving as your personal retainer”

 

Allen bowed his head, “It’s a pleasure to meet and serve you lady Riliane”

 

I raise an eyebrow, “Really!? This kid he looks no older than me and you expect me to trust him to tend to my needs?”

 

“Apologies milady but I can attest that he is quite capable” The older servant said. “Dare I say he’s a better servant than I am”

 

“Alright I guess if you say so but I’m not calling you Allen that name sounds stupid” I unfurl the fan in my hands and press it to my chin and think for a moment, “I know, Len! From today forward you’ll be known as Len!” I say closing my fan and pointing at Allen. “Yeah that sounds much cuter”

 

“My lady!” The older servant said.

 

“If that is what she wishes to call me then so be it” Len says kneeling before me, “From today on I am your loyal servant, and I will grant any wish you so desire”

-----

That was the day we first met, the day you first became my servant. Ever since that day, you were always by my side doing whatever I asked of you. True to your word you carried out every wish I had no matter how difficult and regardless of the of the consequences.

 

-----

The orange glow of the setting sun scattered and sparkled across the calm ocean waves. My eyes glisten in awe as I gaze upon the gorgeous sight.

 

“It’s so beautiful!” I say, feeling the soft smooth sand beneath my feet as I run to the edge of the shore.

 

“Milady w-wait f-for me!” Len calls out, almost out of breath, as he trails behind me.

 

“You’re so slow” I glance back and giggle.

 

I turn back to look upon the ocean as a cool breeze rustles through my hair. It is then I feel something cold and smooth brush up against my feet. I look down to see a clear glass bottle with a note inside in between my feet.

 

“A bottle?” I raise an eyebrow, picking up and inspecting the washed up item. I try opening it but the cork refused to come loose “Hey Len! I need you to do something for me!” I call out, running back to Len who was resting under a palm tree.

 

He looks up at me, “What is it milady?” he asks.

 

“I need you to open this bottle for me” I say, handing over my new found treasure.

 

He inspects it for a moment before effortlessly pulling the cork off, “there you are milady”

 

“Ooh gimmie!” I quickly grab the bottle out of his hands and slide the note out onto my palm.

 

With jittery fingers, I unravel the small parchment and on it read:

 

No matter what I wish to be reunited with my twin sister one day

 

“Wait that’s it?” I raise an eyebrow, “Lame! I was hoping for a treasure map or something! But this is just stupid” I scoff and toss the paper to the side.

 

Len smiles, “Well I wouldn’t expect much from a wishing bottle”

 

“Wishing bottle?” I raise my eyebrow at him.

 

He nods, “they say if you write down a wish and set it afloat on the ocean in a glass bottle, it will someday come true”

 

“Really? That’s so cool!”

 

“Would you like to try it milady?” He asks reaching into his bag and pulls out a pen and paper.

 

I bob my head and quickly grab the utensil and parchment.

 

“What shall I wish for?” I press the dull end of the pen to my chin. 

 

After a moment of thought, I scribble something on the paper. I roll it up and carefully slide it inside the bottle.

 

“Alright finished! I made the perfect wish!”

 

“Now all that’s left is to set it adrift on the ocean”

 

I shake my head, “Nope that’ll take too long! I have a better idea”

 

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow.

 

I Immediately then hand over the bottle to him. Len looks to the bottle and then at me.

 

I smile, “You’re gonna be my ocean because you can grant my wish right away”

 

He simply smiles and takes the bottle from my hands, “alright, I shall grant it then”

 

 

 

-------

No matter how selfish I acted or how unreasonable the demand you simply smiled and nodded. You worked yourself to the bone for me. Some nights I would even find you completely collapsed on the floor and berate you for it. However no matter how harsh my words you never once questioned me that is until one day when I asked you to something truly terrible...

 

-------

“That bastard! How dare he choose that that witch over me!” I shout, pounding my fist against the arm of the throne. If that’s how it is I’ll just have to make sure she’s eliminated. “Len!” I call out to my retainer.

 

Len looked up at his liege, “What is it milady?”

 

I toss him a glass bottle. He catches it and reads the note inside,  “Are you sure about this milady?”

 

I raise an eyebrow, It wasn’t like him to question my orders, “you dare question your liege’s orders”

 

“No, it’s not like that milady it’s just…” He looked at the note once more.

 

“I thought you told me you would grant me any wish I desire without question” I glare at him.

 

Len puts the note back into the bottle and sighs. The look on his face could only be described as being filled with dread. “My apologies I will see it done” and with that he left the castle.

 

----

I finally realize why you questioned me that day and what I had forced you to do. Yet you still granted my wish despite how much your heart had shattered because of it. Though by then it was too late, I grew impatient and decided to lay siege to the entire country of green. I didn’t care how many died so long as that “woman” was among them. I was selfish and only thought of myself but you were kind. You comforted me in my darkest hours. When everyone else abandoned me, you stayed by my side until the very end. You truly cared for me like a brother would a sister and I took you for granted. I did nothing but cause you grief and pain and that is the one thing I truly regret.

 

-----

“Wait you want me to what!?” I recoil in shock, nearly tripping over my big poofy yellow dress.

 

“It’s our only option” Len nods as he begins taking off his uniform. “All of the soldiers have either fled or joined them so when the rebels get here you will surely be caught and executed” He says removing the last of his clothes, “and I won’t let that happen!”

 

“B-but that’s crazy!! what if they find out?!” I stammer out.

 

He simply smiles, “don’t you forget we’re twins. They won’t notice a thing” He says reassuringly, folding up his clothes and handing them to me, “Now hurry up and put these on we don’t have much time! The masses grow closer as we speak”

 

“There’s got to be another way why don’t we escape together!?”

 

Len shakes his head, “The things we’ve done have scarred these people too deep for them to forgive us and even if we were both to flee they won’t be satisfied until they see your head roll”

 

“But if we do this you’ll…” I trailed off not wanting to finish that sentence, “Where will I go? What will I do? You can’t leave me like this!” I snap at him as my eyes begin to water.

 

“Everything will be okay” He smiles and moves his hand towards me and raises his pinky. “I promise”

 

Slowly I begin to move my hand to his and our pinkies are intertwined. “Al-alright”

 

He nods “no matter what happens know that I’ll always be looking after you and let’s promise to always be together even after death”

 

The frenzied cries of the masses grow louder as Len looks toward the window. “Now hurry and get dressed, they’re almost here”

 

I simply nod and do as I’m told. As I begin to leave the room, I take one last glance backward at my most loyal servant no my brother. A single tear runs down my cheek before I turn and dash out the door.

 

I’m sorry Len

-----

If only I had not been so selfish, then maybe you would still be here by my side. Oh how I wish I could start over and redo everything. How I wish I could go back to the days when you were by my side. Back to the simpler times filled with nothing but blissful happiness and laughter.

 

But here I am now, a starving girl sobbing and wailing on the dead and muddy ground with no one to grant my wish. This is what I deserve after all the suffering and pain I caused to the people of green, to my own people, and most importantly to you. I deserve to die but…

 

My vision begins to blur as I move my head to look forward. That’s when I see it, a glass bottle. That’s right! I can still…

 

I quickly grab the bottle and attempt to get up. My body flares up in pain as I do so but I do my best to ignore it. I won’t let your death be in vain. You wanted me to live and I will. No matter how much it hurts. I have to get up and survive at least until I cast one last wish upon the ocean. After some struggle, I hobble to my feet and slowly limp forward.

 

-----

Under the glistening moonlight at a faraway town by the sea. A girl stands at the shore staring longingly as a small glass bottle floats steadily towards the horizon. Through the glass is a note that read:

Someday if I were to be reborn then I wish to be reunited and live happily with him

A little rushed in some parts but overall I'm proud in how this one turned out.

Edit: Edited out a little grammar error that was bugging me

Edited by Otts486
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