SF's "Write Your Butt Off" Competition HD II.5 Remix

[TheSilentChloey]

To my surprise I actually managed something for this theme.  An entirely original universe...(help)

 

Title: The Rhythm of Life

Words: 1,100

Fandom: Original Universe

Spoiler

"You did what?!" The woman's voice screeched at the small child who stood with a guilty expression on her face, surrounded by a mop of dark hair.  The child spoke softly,

"I forgot…"

 

THWACK!

 

"Not good enough you little brat!" The woman yelled deep brown hair out of place as her fury began to take hold, "Don't you dare make any ridiculous excuses like that!  Do you expect me to believe your lies, do you? How pitiful, no you cannot pull the wool over my eyes you ungrateful, lazy little child. You will do the task perfectly.  No more excuses and no more fooling around.  God help you if you so much as put one hair out of place, you hear me?!"

"Yes Ma'am…" The child's head dropped as she resisted the urge to cup her now tender cheek that was throbbing with pain.  She found herself hoping it would bruise or some other noticeable mark and felt guilty for thinking like that.

"Get out of my sight and don't you dare expect me to take you to the library." The woman snapped before grabbing a bottle which housed a dark red liquid which she proceeded to drink from as if her life depended on it.

 

The child retreated back to her room and only then, once she was sure she wouldn't be heard, did she sob helplessly, sinking down to her knees and curling up into as tight a ball as possible to try to comfort herself.

 

It wasn't her fault she forgot to do her chores.  Yet here she was being punished for it. In the most severe way possible- as per usual it seemed as no matter what she did, her parents had already decided that they would not let her go anywhere she wanted, ever.

 

If she wasn't being told to do things that her parents wanted her to do then she was being denied the most basic of things.  Freedoms others took for granted and she hated it. She hated the way she was made to do nothing with herself but chores, chores and more chores and the moment she made the tiniest mistake, it was like her 'mother' pounced on them, making her as miserable as possible or tried to strip her of everything she liked.  It was almost like they wanted her to feel bad about the things she enjoyed, until the very life was drained out of her.

 

But that wasn't the worst of it…

 

The worst was that there was nothing she could do to change the situation, even if she wanted to.

 

~*~

 

Years passed and Sari brushed her hair back off her face.  She was saddened that day was burned into her mind. It was like a festering wound that kept poisoning her view of her parents, even long after they were gone.  She saw her small son, Liam looking down with guilt all over his face. She knew by that look he'd done something wrong and a pang of guilt came back to bite her, "Liam," she said gently kneeling to her son's level and letting her long dark hair go to fall freely down her back, "What happened?"

Her son sniffled and admitted he'd dropped a plate that had the misfortune of breaking, though he was really crying, he didn't seem physically hurt.

 

Sari ran her fingers through his soft dark red hair and said, "Where?  Did you leave the pieces as not to get hurt?" A nod and the boy began to calm,

"Kitchen…" He replied, eyes still filled with tears.

 

The trip was a short one to her, and sure enough she could see at a glance what had happened.

 

She moved with care to avoid the shards of porcelain and began the laborious process of collecting the shards and pieces before carefully folding them into some paper to avoid any cuts.  Liam stood off to the side and started to cry again.

 

She managed to get the floor clean and once it was safe, she simply stood by her son's side and said calmly, "This is why we don't sit the bowls or plates on the edge of the benches." She said as she scooped her crying son into her arms to comfort him, "We sit them away from the edge so that accidents like this are not likely to happen."  Liam nodded as the sobbing settled. He was still very young, so this was a lesson he would have to learn again and again- though she had a feeling he might not learn it, she hoped however that the psychologist was wrong about her son. Sari knew that he was smarter than the man gave the boy credit for, even if he was hampered by autism. She wouldn't let Liam become a label or a number.

 

It wasn't fair for her son to be seen as less than his true self, as she had the misfortune of having happen to her as a child.  Even if she was to have nothing, she would do anything to help her son.

 

Even if it meant withholding him from seeing his abusive father.

 

Sari sighed and set her son down on his chair and smiled gently, "Don't worry Liam, breakfast will be ready soon." She promised, setting about getting the cereal he had been trying to get himself, "And we can have it together."

The tears disappeared from Liam's face and he brightened up considerably, "Yay!" He cheered, clapping his hands and rocking slightly on the chair.  Though his eyes never truly met hers, Sari knew her son was happy. Even if he had to rock himself on numerous occasions. Or that he almost never made any friends.

 

His life would never be devoid of his only true joys like hers had been up until Liam was born.  Of course it had taken Sari nine years to escape the abusive relationship that created Liam, but that was on her and not on the precious boy sitting at his favourite seat.  Whose dark red hair reminded her of a beautiful garnet. The bright green eyes alert with life that quickly focused on anything about the natural world, especially dinosaurs- his favourite being a raptor called Dynonicus.

 

It amazed Sari how much her little boy could remember about the various creatures of the world- how the psychologist could say he was handicapped she didn't understand.

 

Even if there were small mistakes here or there regarding other things, Sari didn't mind.  She would help her son achieve his goal to become a paleontologist. Nothing would make her prouder than that.

 

Post read notes:

Spoiler

I kind of wanted to take the two different kinds of parents here and generalized the crap out of them both.  Obviously the first parents are the abusive ones complete with alcoholism, the second being the understanding ones.  And I am mildly scared to say that less than 24 hours of development time went into this...seems I don't do things the conventional way ever.

 

[Ottservia]

well I just flushed over 2000 words of story down the fucking toilet. Geez I thought I had a good idea but it's not panning out as I initially thought so it's back to the drawing board. I don't do well with fluff god damnit

Edited September 2, 2019 by Ottservia

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

2 hours ago, Ottservia said:

well I just flushed over 2000 words of story down the fucking toilet. Geez I thought I had a good idea but it's not panning out as I initially thought so it's back to the drawing board. I don't do well with fluff god damnit

Well, we still have 5-6 days left of this. Don’t give up; find the time when you can to continue. And good luck to you.

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

Ok, so I dunno if this counts as a double post, but I just want to say here that I have an idea on what I want to do with this.

It will be another Fates fic, but I have to make do with what I have.

[Ottservia]

On 9/2/2019 at 9:46 PM, Azure, Roundabouted Out said:

Well, we still have 5-6 days left of this. Don’t give up; find the time when you can to continue. And good luck to you.

I appreciate the kind words but I dunno I just can't seem to think of anything for this prompt. Every idea that sort of comes mind ends being way too short to the point where I can't flesh it out as necessary and the idea I had was way too bloated. Ugh this writer's block is killing me.

Edited September 4, 2019 by Ottservia

[Dragoncat]

I think everybody's starting to burn out on this contest...I certainly am...

[Ottservia]

I wouldn't say I'm getting burnt out because honestly I sat out the last like 3 rounds. I got plenty of ideas rolling around this head. I guess this prompt in particular just isn't to my strengths but that's fine. I'll think of something and I think I already have let's just see where it goes

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

1 hour ago, Ottservia said:

I wouldn't say I'm getting burnt out because honestly I sat out the last like 3 rounds. I got plenty of ideas rolling around this head. I guess this prompt in particular just isn't to my strengths but that's fine. I'll think of something and I think I already have let's just see where it goes

Yeah, I think I have the same reasoning. The difference is that I do not know my strengths.

Edited September 4, 2019 by Azure, Roundabouted Out

[Anacybele]

I'm not getting burnt out, I've just been busy with work and school... xP And Three Houses.

[Dragoncat]

I have a major problem with not being able to sit down and write even if I do have ideas.

[Ottservia]

1 minute ago, Dragoncat said:

I have a major problem with not being able to sit down and write even if I do have ideas.

That’s a mood honestly fuck me and my stupid adhd

though I get a lot of my ideas because of my adhd so it balances out I guess

Edited September 5, 2019 by Ottservia

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

Not sure whether this would be a good decision or not, but can we extend the writing phase by a day or two? Maybe three? Just so we can have more confidence in being able to write good for this prompt.

[Ottservia]

I’d be fine with an extension. What about you @AnonymousSpeed? What do you think?

[Anacybele]

Yeah, maybe we should actually extend future rounds too since no one's had as much time as before lately. I still haven't written my non-entry for the prompt.

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

How about 2 weeks of writing and just 1 week of critiquing?

Edit: I take that back. We already have two weeks for both right now.

Edited September 6, 2019 by Azure, Roundabouted Out

[TheSilentChloey]

I suppose the potential reasons is that no one actually bothers to have something before the deadline or life getting in the way of having something done.  Though if I can pull something together in less than twenty-four hours I'm sure that the most dedicated can pull it off as well, it's all a matter of discipline and making sure to get the job done.

 

The theme is also a BIG factor as well since people can find certain themes difficult to write for or may find that their stories are not fitting to the theme, I've had that happen to me before, so I wouldn't be surprised if it happened to anyone else too.

 

Also I suppose writer's block is a thing, but sometimes you just have to throw shit together for a while until something sticks, or go down a completely different path from it.

[Ottservia]

so after about two weeks of cycling through 3 or 4 different ideas and about just as many(if not more) drafts I have come to the conclusion that I will not be able to meet this deadline. Nothing I seem to write for this prompt seems to go anywhere and no idea seems to stick. At least I tried

Edited September 7, 2019 by Ottservia

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

I do not think I’ll be able to do my thing by the deadline either unless I get an extension of time to work on this stuff.

[AnonymousSpeed]

On 9/5/2019 at 11:04 PM, Ottservia said:

I’d be fine with an extension. What about you @AnonymousSpeed? What do you think?

Think I gotta learn how to reply to dang post I you all HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH'wat.

So, I was going to say that I would look at an extension if some more people asked about it. However, a lot of you have indicated that you don't expect you can finish an entry even with such an extension. I would be open to hearing requests to counter this idea, but if that is the case then I would just keep the deadline for simplicity's sake, as much as I'd appreciate an extension as well.

That said.

The schooling times have started back. If deadlines continue to be an issue, I'm open to extending the writing phase to 3 weeks until December.

I think most of the participants are in education so it could serve to the general benefit of the community. I don't want to dilute the deadline to point where things sit stagnant for too long, though.

[Ottservia]

I might be able to salvage this piece but overall it’s not gonna be done by Sunday night due to other factors.

1 hour ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

The schooling times have started back. If deadlines continue to be an issue, I'm open to extending the writing phase to 3 weeks until December.

I think most of the participants are in education so it could serve to the general benefit of the community. I don't want to dilute the deadline to point where things sit stagnant for too long, though.

Honestly I think 3 weeks is a bit too long even with school getting in the way. 2 and a half weeks seems like a more fitting compromise but I dunno.

[Jotari]

I haven't been active much here due to trying to focus on my own writing outside of it. But I might bang out something quickly to fight the inevitable entropy. I have, I think, a rather decent idea in mind. 

Edited September 22, 2019 by Jotari

[Jotari]

Alright. I knocked something out. Goes a little under the word count, but I figure that's okay given the circumstances. It's more of a concept than anything else, but, I think, a good one. I might try to expand upon it at some future date if I can get a more solid grasp of the characters.

Title: Unconditional Love

Word Count: 770

Spoiler

               “Run it by me one more time,” Vesto said.

               His wife, Lia, spoke slowly. Every word measured, every sound deliberate. “I came home. They were fighting. Dekan said something insulting. She grabbed the knife and-”

               “What did he say?” Vesto interrupted.

               Lia shoot her head. “It doesn’t matter. Nothing justifies what she did.”

               “Why didn’t you call an ambulance?”

               “I was in shock. I couldn’t move.”

               Vesto had arrived over an hour after the incident. He had found Lia, kneeling in the puddle of blood beside their son’s body. She had no tears in her eyes. Just a dead, hollow look. Dekan’s body was cold. There was no hope for saving him. His son was dead.

               “What are we going to do now?” Lia asked.

               They were in the living room. Vesto glanced at the door to the kitchen, where the event took place. “You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

               Lia shook her head again. “No. I don’t think so. I can’t remember. I just sat there, didn’t I?”

               “Okay. We need to break a window.”

               “What? Why?”

               “To make it look like there was an intruder. Someone came in. They took Deakan hostage and demanded you had over your valuables. Deakon struggled, and the man accidentally slit his throat. Then he ran away. You were in shock. You can’t remember what happened. You went into shock, just like what really happened. Her finger prints won’t be a problem. She’s touched that knife a thousand times.”

               “What are you saying?” Lia said, again, slowly, as if she was struggling to understand the words. “We need to call the police.”

               “No,” Vesto said sharply.

               “Our daughter has just killed our son, and you want to protect her?”

               “Of course. Don’t you?”

               Lia’s eyes were wide, shaking in disbelief. “No. She needs to go to jail.”

               “Where they’ll execute her? Or never let her see the light of day?”

               “She’s a monster.”

               “She’s our daughter. I don’t care what she’s done. I’m going to protect her.”

               Now, finally, Lia began to cry. “And what about Dekan. Who’s going to protect him?”

               Vesto’s face grew grim. “Dekan’s gone. We need to look to the future now. She is all we have left. If we let them put her away, then our entire legacy is gone.”

               “And what if she does it again? She’s dangerous. We’ve known it for years.”

               “I don’t care. She’s my daughter, and I’m going to protect her.”

               “She lost the right to call herself our daughter when she took a knife to her brother’s throat.” Vesto saw Lia’s eyes make for the phone in the corner. She noticed him noticing her giving way to a moment of tension.  Lia was closer, she made to grab the phone, but Vesto caught her by the waist and flung her back. An unnatural strength entered him allowing him to completely smash the device.

               “Where is she now?” he was breathing heavily, filled not quite with anger, but an intense wave of adrenaline. Lia lay on the ground, staring at him in disbelief. “I don’t want to shout, Lia. Tell me where she is.”

               “I’m hurt,” she said. “You threw me onto the coffee table.”

               Vesto felt the guilt, but he pushed it away. It could be dealt with later. “Where is she?”

               “She’s gone, Vesto.”

               “What do you mean gone? Gone where?”

               At that moment there was a knock on the door. Vesto tried to ignore it, but they knocked louder. “This is the police,” a young voice called out to them. “We received reports of a domestic disturbance.”

               Vesto looked to Lia in panic. From his vantage point he could see into the kitchen, where his son Dekan lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood.

               “We know you’re there. Please open up. We have to look around, I hope you understand.”

 

               Months later she sat in front of a coffee shop. She wore large sunglasses and a wide brimmed hat. It was a sunny day. The rays shining on her exposed back felt nice. Someone sat down in front of her, a rough looking man, a few years older than her. “Hey.” He threw a newspaper down in front of her. “Thought you might find this interesting.”

               She looked at the article in question. Father of two pleads guilty to the murder of his son and abuse of his wife. Daughter’s whereabouts still unknown.

               “Why are you smiling?” the man asked.

               “Because my daddy loves me.”

               But she didn’t need a newspaper to tell her that. After all, she had been the one who called the police.

 

 

Edited September 8, 2019 by Jotari

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

Well, now I have lost the motivation to write any more of my fic.

I’ll be sure to give reviews this time. Hopefully we’ll have a universally easy prompt next time.

[AnonymousSpeed]

Golly gee hope this thing is alright.

Title (Tentative): Choose Mercy
Word Count: 3,331

Spoiler

"Surrender?"

Maw looked around. Fourteen Olympus units had showed up. Six were still there. They were damaged from the battle, but he was starting to feel pretty worn out himself.

"No one has to get hurt if you come quietly."

Maw ignored that. He would take them.

The gears of his amorphous arms began to whir again. The infinite exposed teeth sparked and ground as the two masses were slammed together, twisting into a single heavy canon. "Quiet this! Bow down and die!"

A shimmering laser tore through the foremost unit, but they were arranged so he could only hit one at a time.

It then dawned on Maw that he hadn't really considered his defensive options, so when the Olympus units sent off another volley of those homing missiles...

"Ah, f-"

With a sudden clap, lightening tore through the sky. It formed a curtain through which the rockets could not pass, exploding high above as the amperage overloaded them. Maw swung his head around, looking for the-

"Old Man!" Maw shouted, secretly relieved. Gladius didn't respond, he continued his charge towards his student. "You got here just in time to watch me thrash these- GHJKH!"

Several hundred pounds of beef slammed into Maw, lifting him off the ground and carrying him towards a distant woodland.
"What the hell are you doing?" shouted Maw over the police units calling for them to stop.
"Getting you out of trouble again."

***

Gladius finally stopped, scanning the forest to ensure they were truly alone. It seemed so. He put Maw down, and both took a moment to recover.

"You got a real good sense of where I am, don't you Old Man?" Maw scoffed. "It's gettin' a little creepy."

Gladius considered this complaint for a second. "I assure you, the inclinations which my powers give me have never intruded upon their subject's privacy."
"Right. If you say so." Maw stretched his arms with a series of clanks.

Gladius stood still in his typical, rigid manner, straight as a sword's edge. Maw leaned his shoulder against a tree, shaving bits of bark off.

"Maw," began Gladius.
"What now?"
"Please explain to me the reason for the conflict in which I found you."

Maw groaned. "Some guy found out who I was. Why do you care?"

Gladius did not reply.

Finally, Maw broke. "I think Jack killed his girlfriend. Something like that."
"Do you not remember?"
"Jack killed a lot of people. I don't remember most of them." Maw turned to a distant tree. "Guy wanted to fight me over it. He crossed me first, so I beat his lights out. Fuzz showed up a little bit after that." Maw turned back to his teacher. "I'm not going to take flack for what Jack did. Not my problem."
"Indeed. Thus, do not fight over it."
"Self defense."

Gladius did not reply.

Finally, Maw broke. "He was asking around for Jack. I...wanted to find out if he was full of it or not. That's how he knew."

Gladius nodded. "I understand your distress. I want you to understand that I am not angry at you, Maw. However, I know you are capable of better. I've seen you restrain yourself."
"Save the lecture, Old Man," Maw spat. "I only told you to make me a better fighter."
"Strength in battle will not take you as far as strength of character, Maw."
"Character doesn't fry Olympus units."
"You needn't engage in every fight which comes your way."

***

Sunset neared.

Teacher and student arrived at the abandoned scrapyard they called home. It was dirty, but it was remote. Gladius had removed most of the rusty nails over several years, and there was plentiful metal in case he needed parts to repair himself. Most of all, it was home.

Gladius opened the door to what was once a small office building. Immediately his ears caught the sound of the radio, blaring in the back room. It wasn't classical or classic rock- he had not left it on. It wasn't rap either- Maw hadn't left it on. Instead, the distant sound of trance music filled the house.

Callahan was visiting.

Gladius stepped forward cautiously, Maw following in suit. The former called out. "Sister."

From out of a dark hall stepped a figure must smaller than either male. She was quite short and quite thin, but carried herself with a similar dignified manner to her brother, only much colder. Her face was hidden under a helmet, and she carried a strange grey device at her side, something like a hilt with no blade.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" asked Gladius. His hands were folded in front of him, as they often were.

"I needed a part," Callahan shrugged. "I found it. Installed it. Thought I'd stick around to say hello."

"I see. Hello, then." Gladius nodded politely. "We would be glad if you might stay for a while."

By we, Gladius meant himself. Maw'd heard of Callahan but they hadn't met. "This the one that killed someone for two solar cells?"
"Three," she corrected.
Maw grinned sidelong at Gladius. "Hell of a reason for conflict in, uh, in which to find yourself."

"He's always trying to lecture me about things like that," said Callahan plainly.
Maw gave a hearty guffaw. "Hey murderbug, you play basketball?"
"I win at basketball."
"Wanna take that to the bank?"

The two went out for a game of one on one, with Gladius sitting on the sidelines. The court was a chunk of cleared off concrete, a hoop someone had thrown out on one end and a makeshift hoop on the other, nothing more than a bucket with the bottom cut off drilled to plywood drilled to a metal pole.

The game opened up with Maw scoring a slam dunk, but the middle of the game had Callahan running circles around him. Maw wisened up to her movement patterns near the end, but not quite enough to recover the game. It ended 21 to 17 just as the sky was turning purple.

"I need to be going," said Callahan. "Good game."

Maw gave a terse goodbye and Gladius sent her off with a hug, waving as she walked off towards the horizon.

Maw plopped down next to the Old Man. "So, if you two were made as part of the same project, how come she's got different powers than you do?"
"She and I pursued different avenues of training. My abilities derive from mental fortitude. She is capable of it, in theory. As are you. As are most. The effort to achieve it is very great though, and Callahan was always more of a pragmatist. Equipment offered great benefits immediately. The powers I obtained were initially incidental to my training."
"You two get along?"
"We do not raise our voices," Gladius said. "Though, I do wish she would pursue a different path."
"Hm."

The two sat under the still of evening, crickets serenading them. "I was thinking of dropping by an old pal's tomorrow. Might stay a while. That alright, Old Man?"
"It is."
"Heh." That was easier than Maw expected.
"I know you've made a wide variety of friends over the years. Please try to set a good example for them, and prevent any trouble."

"You got a lot of weird friends too, Old Man," Maw smirked.
Gladius sat in ponderous silence. He always had a sort of slow, calm way of speaking, and a deep voice which felt like it weighed on your chest when you heard it. The next thing he said came out like it was weighing on both of them. "I have never wished to be the sort of person to turn my back on someone. What I believe, more strongly than I know anything, is that we all should be afforded the opportunity to change."

***

It wasn't exactly a quiet night. The neighborhood was pretty rough. Dogs had been barking since 10 PM, so it was almost an expected sound when Callahan kicked down the door to a cheap apartment. It was still quite a shock for the inhabitant sleeping on the couch, though.

"What'n the heck-! What's goin' on?" The man threw his old blanket off him, scrambled to his feet, and ran away as fast as he could, straight into a sliding glass door.
He fell on the ground, and Callahan walked up, put a foot on his chest and a gun against his head. "Tornado, right?"
"Y-yes."
Callahan pulled out a phone and squashed it against Tornado's nose. It played shaky, low quality footage of him frothing at the mouth and acting...quite indecently. He couldn't make out who else was there. A couple voices could be heard jeering him on. "See this? That's you."
"Oh..." mumbled Tornado. "So that's what I did last night..."
"Mhm. Now what you're going to do is get wrecked, because actions have consequences-"

It was then a door swung open loudly. Out of it jumped a half awake Maw, one hand formed into a launcher of some sort. He was wearing pajama pants. "Oi Torno! What's all the damn...noise...about..." He furrowed his brow. "What are you doing?"
Cal was surprised Maw took the time to ask. "I'm gonna shoot this guy," Cal answered, all drawn out like. "For money."

Tornado piped up nervously. "Found out what I did last night."
"Must've been pretty crazy," grumbled Maw, and the silence resumed.

After some time, Tornado punched Cal in the back of the knee. Tornado didn't have any powers, so it barely made it buckle, but it distracted Callahan just long enough for Maw to fire a cannonball-and-chain into her stomach. Cal flew back and clear through the thin, cheap walls of the apartment and into the streets below.

"You stay here," said Maw, reeling the heap of scrap back to his arm.

Cal had picked herself back up by the time Maw's feet slammed onto the pavement.

The assassin looked him up and down. "Bro's not with you?"
"I have my own life, you know."
"If you want to keep it, back off."
"Funny. I was gonna say the same to you. That guy there's my friend."

Didn't seem like Callahan was going to get through to him, so she'd probably have to go through him. That was okay.

"Why can't you just be a good pet and stick with my brother?" Callahan fired a few lasers from her pistol.

Maw launched his ball and chain straight into the barrage. The weapon absorbed a few hits, but one beam hit him in the shoulder and another in the leg.

Thrusters fired in Cal's boots, sending her up and back, out of the flail's way. When she landed, she saw that she'd poked a few holes in Maw. The wounds were like gaps in a beam of light, which slowly filled back in.

"I don't care what kind of stuff you're supposed to be able to do," grinned Maw. "No one messes with the king, and you ain't messing with his friends either. Actions got consequences, and yours is gettin' pulverized."

Cal answered with more blaster shots. Maw shifted his ball and chain into a sword, his free arm into a shield as he charged forward.

With a flick of her wrist, Cal's pistol changed its shape to that of a hilt. A sword like a laser beam shot out from it, and she readied herself to meet her attacker.

***

Tornado peaked out the hole in his wall. He glimpsed his old pal clashing blades with a much smaller woman. Neither could get a hit past the other's defenses, but the tiny one seemed to be keeping very good pace. She seemed kinda tough...probably wasn't much he could do to help. So he grabbed his blanket and stuffed an old backpack with pill bottles and economy sized chip bags, and scribbled something on a post-it note. He snuck down to the lot by his apartment, loaded his possessions into a rusted out Prius, and promptly skipped town.

***

A phone started ringing during the duel. Callahan jumped back and pushed a button on her helmet to turn on bluetooth. Then she went back to their clash.
"Yes, this is Cal. No, he got away. Family matters came up, it won't happen again."
"Are you really taking a phone call?" Maw barked, lunging forward in a mighty stab. Cal stepped quickly to the side, then made a swipe at Maw's face, which the latter violently deflected.
"Shut up. No, no, I was speaking to someone else, I'm in a fight right now. Everything is under control, don't worry," she hung up. "Prick," she hissed.

Taking the phone call maybe wasn't the best idea. Maw managed to sneak in a kick to the gut right then.

"Huh. Bro actually taught you okay," Callahan noted.
"Stand still and I'll show you how well!" Maw beamed, making a massive overhead swing. Cal easily dodged this, and capitalized on the opening. One cut ran from under one shoulder to above the other, and that would healed quickly enough, but Callahan pressed on, using her sword as a bar to pin Maw against a brick wall.

Now Maw was stupid, but he wasn't dumb. Give him a pair of form changing arms and pin him against the wall, he'll make an arm for punching straight up from the waist. And he did.

Cal went up a good twenty feet, giving Maw a good bit of space. He pushed himself off the wall, making a cacophony of clanks as one arm reformed his crude ball and chain. Once Cal hit the ground, he swung it down to crush her against the road. The king had her pinned now, the weight of his weapon too much to just throw off, and marched towards her with a satisfied grin and a spear for his other hand.

Callahan cranked her gun's power to the max and fired at Maw. The kickback was almost as heavy as the weight on her chest, the blast so strong it hurled Maw back. The ball and chain acted like an anchor and yanked him back, but he had enough momentum for that anchor to get dislodged, and Callahan was able to push it off her.

Cal's gun could only handle so many shots at this level before overheating, but with a regenerating opponent? She figured she'd unload the lot on him anyway. The fire kept him down, letting her get in quite a few shots uninterrupted. Her weapon got a little too hot, failsafes kicked in and stopped her next shot. Some of the smoke cleared up, and Maw stood unsteadily in the vanishing cloud.

"Heh...heh...that all?" Maw croaked. His vocal chords finished regenerating halfway through, leaving an odd hollow sound to his taunt.

"Why can't you just die?"

The two stood there, tension tearing the air apart. Cal couldn't attack without her weapon exploding. Maw was too busy recovering to make a move.

Both problems resolved around the same time. Callahan shifted to sword form and ran forward, Maw going in for a grab.

It was then that an arrow flew between them, and it was like a wall had been erected in its wake.

All heads turned to the source. Down the avenue, glimmering in the streetlight, a tall and muscular figure stood with a composite bow in hand.

Gladius had showed.

"I do not know what this is about," he boomed. "However, it ends now."

Callahan thought about how to play this. She decided pragmatically. She swung at Maw's head, the latter barely managing to catch it with a steel hand, and the swordswoman advanced on the thrown-off regenerator.

"Old Man!" Maw yelled. "Your sis is trying to off my pal! Give me a hand or something!"

Maw regained his footing, and used his greater strength to start pushing Callahan back instead.

"Gladius!" Callahan shouted. "Control your pet, geeze! I'm trying to execute a rapist here!"
"He was on PCP! He didn't know what he was doing!"

"You each need to calm down!"
"No!" they shouted in unison.

Gladius froze up. Was this really a battle to the death he'd encountered? Who would he choose, had he to choose one? His sister, or his...?

Callahan kicked Maw in the shin, giving her a chance to break away. Using her boosters, she jumped up to a third story fire escape, then the top of the opposite building, before finally rocketing straight towards Maw, ready to bring her sword down on him.

A bolt of lightening tore through the sky, forming a curtain through which Callahan's path dragged her. She tumbled through the air, and Maw got in a good punch that sent her skidding off along the asphalt. Maw started forming his laser when he felt Gladius restrain him. "Don't kick someone while they're down."

Maw didn't want to let someone get away with trying to shoot his friends and certainly not with trying to impale him. Still, the Old Man had a point. Callahan was functioning, but didn't stand a chance in a two on one fight even if she wasn't so dinged up. Blackened by lightening, cracked from powerful strikes. Her mask had flown off in pieces. Her face looked about how Maw thought the Old Man's sister's would. Same patchwork of discolored rubber and latex, sewn together with battle scars. Made sense they both wore helmets.

Cal managed to stand up. Her brother siding with Maw over her wasn't exactly what she'd expected. And like Maw, she didn't think the odds in front of her were very fair.

"R-*czzt*. R-*krt*." Stuttering? How unprofessional. "Fine. If that's how it is is is."
The assassin kept an eye on each of her opponents, backing away slowly, and suddenly darted into an alleyway.

Gladius and Maw rushed to pursue her, but by the time they had reached the darkened corridor, Callahan had vanished into waning night.

The elder sighed. "Oh, Callahan..."

Maw took a half-step forward. "Old Man. I uh...I really didn't try and pick a fight. But she was going to kill Tornado."

Gladius didn't respond. He still stared down and ahead.

"I don't know if what she was saying really happened, but...I couldn't let her do it. I'm sorry."

Gladius turned around slowly and put a hand on Maw's shoulder. He pulled him into a hug. "I'm proud of you."
"...you're gonna have to explain that one to me, Old Man." Gladius ceased squeezing Maw. "I mean, I was trying to thrash your sister and I got into a fight when it showed up and, I don't know..."
"I know," said Gladius. "However, you did so to protect the life of a friend whom you believed deserved mercy. That is something to be proud of."

Maw stared up at the Old Man. "You're a funny guy, Old Man."

Gladius chuckled. "I have never attempted to be absolutely serious at all times. Come along. Let's go check on that friend of yours."

***

Torno's apartment was trashed. A few things were missing and one thing was left, a note.

It was faster for Gladius to read it. "He says he's leaving town. If someone wants him dead, he suspects that they will attempt this again."

Maw frowned. "Well, we gotta do something for him, don't we? We can't just trust they're not gonna find him."

"It may be best to keep him under watch for a time, yes," said Gladius. He looked between Maw and the note. "We may begin our search for him immediately. Once we find him, I think the two of you might benefit from a grammar lesson."
"You saying my English ain't good?"
"Your spelling might benefit from some improvement. It's a more useful life skill than strength in battle."
"Hey. Good spelling wouldn't have fought off Callahan while I was waiting for your slow ass to show up."
"You can have both, Maw."

Kind of a weird story behind this one. It's actual a pseudo-reboot for characters from a roleplaying forum I used to be active on. None of these events happened on there.

[AnonymousSpeed]

Aw heck yeah. I love not being able to edit the opening post on the day the writing phase concludes.
Every time I try to make an edit, I get sent back to the editor with the edit totally gone. Fantastic.

Here are the entries:

• AnonymousSpeed ("Choose Mercy")
• Jotari ("Unconditional Love")
• TheSilentChloey ("The Rhythm of Life")

Please post your votes in the thread for now.

I'll try again later, hopefully it'll work then.