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

[TheSilentChloey]

11 minutes ago, Dragoncat said:

The entry was kind of in bad taste, honestly...and I'll leave it at that.

Obviously you didn't take the clarification into account, which is fine, but does mean you skimmed over a key word.

 

The person I was referring to was a male.

Quote

"And I told him..."

I think that should have been the key indication right there you and Ana should have been looking for Dcat.

1 minute ago, Dragoncat said:

If it requires background to understand, it really does look rude. Personally I think it's in bad taste for her to be prickly through her prompts like this, it's like she's stirring a pot and looking for a fight.

The Silent One, I felt was uncalled for, but that's just me.

You always think half of my stuff is uncalled for and I'm always being out for a fight, honestly I feel like at this point I feel like you're deliberately claiming I'm being rude when I'm not.

[SoulWeaver]

1 minute ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Obviously you didn't take the clarification into account, which is fine, but does mean you skimmed over a key word.

 

The person I was referring to was a male.

I think that should have been the key indication right there you and Ana should have been looking for Dcat.

 

Did you just assume Ana and Dcat's gender?!

In all seriousness folks, the thread's officially appearing on the 'Popular Right Now' or whatever it's called list, so time to call it quits for everyone before some random guy walks in and wonders what the frick all this is.

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

Yeah, I don’t think I like where this is going. Can we just stop?

[Ottservia]

Guys can we just cool it. Regardless we’ve got three entries now which means I don’t have to try and salvage the shit pile of a story that I was working on

[TheSilentChloey]

Yeah, but I'll point out one last thing that is clearly in the story, that was skipped over:

Quote

"Or at least that was the stupid jerk I had the displeasure of dealing with,"

That right there should be pretty obvious and make it crystal clear I'm referring to the same singular person.  If Ana and Dcat missed that, that's on them.  And that doesn't require any explanation.  Unless Ana and Dcat are guys then yeah, I could see it being partly in bad taste, but based on how they talk, I don't think they are.

[Dragoncat]

Yeah, I'm gonna drop this now.

[Anacybele]

Sorry. That is my fault for missing that. We can stop now tho.

[SoulWeaver]

My mom: Hey, you had a writing thing today, right? Are you working on it?

Me: Yes.

My Screen: Tab Tab Tab You get the idea

[Jotari]

I do still have an entry to finish, but I'm in the middle of a weekend get away right now. I should be able to crap out an ending tonight if people are willing to wait (tonight probably being much sooner for me than you as I'm GMT+9).

[AnonymousSpeed]

9 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

My mom: Hey, you had a writing thing today, right? Are you working on it?

What a good mom.

9 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

Tab

Oh heck, I need to watch that still thanks for reminding me.

9 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

Tab

I am disappointed in you.

2 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

In all seriousness folks, the thread's officially appearing on the 'Popular Right Now' or whatever it's called list, so time to call it quits for everyone before some random guy walks in and wonders what the frick all this is.

I host the thread and wonder that.

Expect some absolutely jacked patriots of indomitable manliness in my entry, if I finish it.

[Ottservia]

27 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

I host the thread and wonder that.

Sometimes this thread makes me question my own sanity but Y’know what that’s what makes it fun

[SoulWeaver]

3 hours ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

Oh heck, I need to watch that still thanks for reminding me.

It's fricking glorious, the best part is apparently they got Zero's VA to voice him for this one, meaning Zero has now officially called X a 'baby boobop' because dangit, if the VA does it it must be canon.

3 hours ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

I am disappointed in you.

Shut up, however simpy Helltaker is as a game Vitality is absolutely banging plus it's a puzzle game so it gets a pass for being an actually interesting unique spin on the genre. Malinka also gets points for stating Heroes III is the greatest strategy game of all time, which is just objective fact. If you must know, I was actually listening to a mix of Vitality and the song 8-bit by Mind.In.A.Box, but I hesitate to link it because the video itself is composed of fan-made memes, which include Lucifer getting wedgie'd because internet. Tune is awesome, video...eh, 0:43 and 0:54 are about the only parts I really like(bar the buff skeleton dancing in the corner through the whole thing), 0:43 because memes and 0:54 because that's a pretty accurate sibling interaction there. If anyone's really interested in hearing it they can look it up, but I'm not linking it on here.

Meanwhile, three Game Theories, a JonTron, and a game night with missionaries later, I present this...whatever it is. Ends kind of abruptly and it's rather short, but it's freaking 25 minutes to midnight, my family's waiting on me for scriptures, you get the idea. Immediately thought of these two upon hearing the prompt and I'm glad nobody else has got to them.

Edited July 19, 2020 by SoulWeaver

[AnonymousSpeed]

1 hour ago, SoulWeaver said:

It's fricking glorious, the best part is apparently they got Zero's VA to voice him for this one, meaning Zero has now officially called X a 'baby boobop' because dangit, if the VA does it it must be canon.

I'm glad to see Hermit Sherpa is handling "not having any work" pretty well.

1 hour ago, SoulWeaver said:

which include Lucifer getting wedgie'd because internet.

yeah yeah now see you should have look at this sentence and felt a moment of contemplation.

[Jotari]

Alright. It's short, but I managed to put something out.

Title: Blood and Soil

Wordcount: 1783

Spoiler

               Yamoto paced the room, a pit of worry deep in his stomach. He was in the upper floors of his hotel, far away from the rest of his campaign team. There was a TV nearby and a laptop beside his bed. He knew he could look at either to know how the election was going, but he resisted. It was too late to change anything now. So instead he waited. He told himself he would paint his model World War II planes, but he couldn’t hold his hands steady enough. Pacing was all he could do to pass the time and try to keep the nerves from over taking him. If he’d won, wouldn’t someone have shown by now? Eventually there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he called.

               His future chief of staff Donald walked in. He averted Yamoto’s eyes.

               “Well?” Yamoto asked.

               Donald tried, but couldn’t hid his smile. “It was a landslide.”

               “A landslide!?” Yamoto immediately grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. It went immediately to a news channel showing his face.

               “Winning 406 electoral college seats and 76% of the popular vote, Yamoto Samson now stands to be the 47^th President of the United States.”

               “401! 76% By god, it’s no Reagan, but I’ll take it,” he cheered. Then his eyes narrowed on Donald. “Why didn’t you come sooner? I must have been the president elect for several hours now.

               Donald laughed. “You were so nervous. I decided to let you stew a little. You should have had more confidence.”

               Yamoto turned his attention back to the television. “Born in 1969 on the Japanese island of Okinawa, Samson will also be the first president of Asian descent and also the first not born on US soil.”

               “You know that’s true racially, but not ethnically,” he commented. “Obama was raised by an Indonesian father.”

               “So you’ve said before,” Donald reminded him.

               It was true. Towards the end of the campaign he had developed something of an obsession with Obama. He saw a lot of similarities between the two of them despite Obama being a democrat. Both were half white, yet judged largely by their minority racial heritage even though neither had any ethnic connection to it. Although unlike Obama, Yamoto never had to face any birther conspiracies, the circumstances of his birth had been divulged before election and a Supreme Court ruling granted him the ability to run on the basis that his father had been stationed on an American military base when he was born. If he could, he’d over turn the natural born citizen clause while he was in office. Where or how someone was born is irrelevant compared to their actual actions and intentions. It was a philosophy that endeared him to a lot of democrats.

               The news channel changed over to a familiar scene in the convention room of the hotel where his campaign team were celebrating. “I should get down there and give a…speech.” His running mate Helen Lerone was giving a speech. Not just being interviewed, but giving a speech to the entire crowd.

               Yamoto swore. “How dare she.”

               “The president elect is indisposed right now, but I’m sure he will be as thrilled as I am when he hears the news.”

               “She’s stealing my speech,” Yamoto growled.

               “Well it’s only natural, you’re not down there. I don’t think she can be blamed when it was your decision to wait up here.”

               “I didn’t ask you to wait until after all the votes had been counted to come and get me.”

               Yamoto threw on his coat and barged out of the room. He found Helen sipping champagne in the room down stairs. At least it wasn’t a long speech. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed as he pulled her away.

               “Yamoto,” she said with a slightly tipsy smile. “You made it.”

               “Of course I made it. Why didn’t you send someone to tell me the results were in.”

               “You said you wanted to be alone, so we left you alone.”

               “Did I say you could steal my victory speech too?”

               “Relax, there are still plenty of cameras around. They want your moment as much as you do.”

               She was right. People had noticed his entrance into the room and were starting to crowd already. “This is not a good start to your vice presidency,” he warned her just before putting on his smile for the camera.

               He meant it to be the last word but he heard her mutter under her breath just before the press started asking him questions. “Threatening me is not a good start to your presidency.”

 

               The months passed as he awaited for his predecessor to finish his term. There was more to do as a president elect than he realized. He didn’t have time to mull over Helen’s threat. In fact, she had been working so dutifully alongside him he had almost forgotten about it entirely.  That’s why it hit him like a tonne of bricks one day when Donald told him to check the news. He was out jogging in central park and could only check via the articles on his phone.

               PRESIDENT ELECT YAMOTO NOT A U.S CITIZEN

               Don’t be spreading more of that birther conspiracy trash, he messaged back to Donald.

               This is serious, came the reply. Keep reading.

               He checked the first article he’d seen and began reading beyond the headline. His heart was pumping rapidly from the workout, but the news was still enough to stop it cold. He had to sit down. He checked another article and another, even though he knew it would say the same thing. A DNA test had been leaked to the public. He wasn’t his father’s son. Multiple independent sources had confirmed it as legitimate.

               He called Donald. “What the hell does this mean?”

               “I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like this. But you weren’t born on US soil and neither of your biological parents were American.”

               “I’m a US citizen goddamnit. I’ve lived in this country for over fifty years. I’ve served in the military!”

               “Calm down. I doubt they can revoke your citizenship. But the presidency seems…unlikely.”

               “What?”

               “Well I can only speculate, but you’re not naturally born.”

               “But the court ruling…”

               “Only allowed you to run because your father was stationed overseas on a military base. If he’s not your father then it has no bearing on things. You were born outside of the US.”

               “But he is my father! He raised me. By himself. He’s the only parent I’ve ever known.”

               “He filed for emancipation when you were seventeen. The court rejected it, but the request has also been leaked. You need to call him.”

               “Helen,” Yamoto muttered. “She’s the one behind this.”

               “Frankly it doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t. This is happening now. The person you need to speak to is your father.”

 

               Yamoto’s father refused to take any of his calls. He was forced to fly down to Florida himself to see in person where the truth lay. Gregory Samson had never been a friendly figure in Yamoto’s life. An ex-military type he approached parenthood as if it were a battle. They had grown distant in Yamoto’s teenage years, he had thought it, not quite natural, but normal part of growing up. Yamoto had tried to patch things up several times throughout their adult life. His wife had always warned him it was a lost cause, but he had never managed to shake a feeling of respect he had for his father raising him alone, despite the troubles.

               Now everything was different. The hostility wasn’t normal of a strict father. And the petty injustices he had felt levied against him as a teenager had been real and not imagined as he had convinced himself.

               Attempts to reconnect with Gregory had never gotten as far as visiting his retirement house. It seemed so ordinary for someone so standoffish, a modest suburban home almost identical to every other on the street. With an anxious sigh, he knocked on the door.

               He heard shuffling around inside, but it took several minutes for the door to open. There he was, far more wrinkled than he had seen him last, but it was his father, or at least, the man who had raised him for eighteen years.

               “You look taller on TV,” he grunted before retreating into the house, leaving the door open for Yamoto to follow. He tottered into the living room and collapsed on the couch. “Well? What have you got to say?”

               “Is it true?”

               “If you’re asking me if it’s true that your mother was a lying whore, then yes.”

               “Did you know the whole time?”

               “I divorced her, didn’t I?”

               “Why did you take me?”

               “To stop her having you.”

               “Are you really that…petty?”

               “Seems I am.” Gregory looked smug. Was he honestly enjoying this? Could a person honestly enjoy this?

               “Why now? Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

               “And what? Have you go looking for her? No. She wasn’t getting a reunion with you. Not in this life time.”

               “She’s alive?”

               “She was.”

               Multiple elections had made Yamoto quite an actor. No matter how stressful and tiring a nationwide campaign was, you always had to go out on stage with your best face on. He tried to control his emotions now, but couldn’t hold back some tears. “And why now?”

               “Couldn’t tell anyone before the results were in. Otherwise the democrats would have won. Your VP will probably become president now. Nice lady.”

               “You scheming conniving bastard.” Yamoto tried to fill his words with anger, but he could barely muster any strength to shout.

               “No more questions then?” Gregory asked. “If so, you know where the door is.”

               “Three out of four voters in this country want me as president,” Yamoto informed him. “I’m a popular candidate on both sides of the party divide. I could make this country a better place. This isn’t fair!”

               “Don’t talk to me of fair boy. A woman lied to me about getting her pregnant and I was saddled with a Jap for eighteen years.  If there’s any justice in the world they’ll deport you back to that godforsaken island you came from. So long as I’m breathing you’ll never be president, nor will any of your kind.”

               That gave Yamoto some renewed resolve. “I’m going to challenge this. Neither of us might want it, but in the eyes of the law you are my father. Your kind won’t live forever. And once I’m in charge I’m going to do my damnest to make sure you die quickly.”

               Gregory only smirked. “We shall see.”

 

Edited July 20, 2020 by Jotari

[Anacybele]

1 hour ago, Jotari said:

Alright. It's short, but I managed to put something out.

Title: Blood and Soil

Wordcount: 1783

  Hide contents

               Yamoto paced the room, a pit of worry deep in his stomach. He was in the upper floors of his hotel, far away from the rest of his campaign team. There was a TV nearby and a laptop beside his bed. He knew he could look at either to know how the election was going, but he resisted. It was too late to change anything now. So instead he waited. He told himself he would paint his model World War II planes, but he couldn’t hold his hands steady enough. Pacing was all he could do to pass the time and try to keep the nerves from over taking him. If he’d won, wouldn’t someone have shown by now? Eventually there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he called.

               His future chief of staff Donald walked in. He averted Yamoto’s eyes.

               “Well?” Yamoto asked.

               Donald tried, but couldn’t hid his smile. “It was a landslide.”

               “A landslide!?” Yamoto immediately grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. It went immediately to a news channel showing his face.

               “Winning 406 electoral college seats and 76% of the popular vote, Yamoto Samson now stands to be the 47^th President of the United States.”

               “401! 76% By god, it’s no Reagan, but I’ll take it,” he cheered. Then his eyes narrowed on Donald. “Why didn’t you come sooner? I must have been the president elect for several hours now.

               Donald laughed. “You were so nervous. I decided to let you stew a little. You should have had more confidence.”

               Yamoto turned his attention back to the television. “Born in 1969 on the Japanese island of Okinawa, Samson will also be the first president of Asian descent and also the first not born on US soil.”

               “You know that’s true racially, but not ethnically,” he commented. “Obama was raised by an Indonesian father.”

               “So you’ve said before,” Donald reminded him.

               It was true. Towards the end of the campaign he had developed something of an obsession with Obama. He saw a lot of similarities between the two of them despite Obama being a democrat. Both were half white, yet judged largely by their minority racial heritage even though neither had any ethnic connection to it. Although unlike Obama, Donald never had to face any birther conspiracies, the circumstances of his birth had been divulged before election and a Supreme Court ruling granted him the ability to run on the basis that his father had been stationed on an American military base when he was born. If he could, he’d over turn the natural born citizen clause while he was in office. Where or how someone was born is irrelevant compared to their actual actions and intentions. It was a philosophy that endeared him to a lot of democrats.

               The news channel changed over to a familiar scene in the convention room of the hotel where his campaign team were celebrating. “I should get down there and give a…speech.” His running mate Helen Lerone was giving a speech. Not just being interviewed, but giving a speech to the entire crowd.

               Yamoto swore. “How dare she.”

               “The president elect is indisposed right now, but I’m sure he will be as thrilled as I am when he hears the news.”

               “She’s stealing my speech,” Yamoto growled.

               “Well it’s only natural, you’re not down there. I don’t think she can be blamed when it was your decision to wait up here.”

               “I didn’t ask you to wait until after all the votes had been counted to come and get me.”

               Yamoto threw on his coat and barged out of the room. He found Helen sipping champagne in the room down stairs. At least it wasn’t a long speech. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed as he pulled her away.

               “Yamoto,” she said with a slightly tipsy smile. “You made it.”

               “Of course I made it. Why didn’t you send someone to tell me the results were in.”

               “You said you wanted to be alone, so we left you alone.”

               “Did I say you could steal my victory speech too?”

               “Relax, there are still plenty of cameras around. They want your moment as much as you do.”

               She was right. People had noticed his entrance into the room and were starting to crowd already. “This is not a good start to your vice presidency,” he warned her just before putting on his smile for the camera.

               He meant it to be the last word but he heard her mutter under her breath just before the press started asking him questions. “Threatening me is not a good start to your presidency.”

 

               The months passed as he awaited for his predecessor to finish his term. There was more to do as a president elect than he realized. He didn’t have time to mull over Helen’s threat. In fact, she had been working so dutifully alongside him he had almost forgotten about it entirely.  That’s why it hit him like a tonne of bricks one day when Donald told him to check the news. He was out jogging in central park and could only check via the articles on his phone.

               PRESIDENT ELECT YAMOTO NOT A U.S CITIZEN

               Don’t be spreading more of that birther conspiracy trash, he messaged back to Donald.

               This is serious, came the reply. Keep reading.

               He checked the first article he’d seen and began reading beyond the headline. His heart was pumping rapidly from the workout, but the news was still enough to stop it cold. He had to sit down. He checked another article and another, even though he knew it would say the same thing. A DNA test had been leaked to the public. He wasn’t his father’s son. Multiple independent sources had confirmed it as legitimate.

               He called Donald. “What the hell does this mean?”

               “I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like this. But you weren’t born on US soil and neither of your biological parents were American.”

               “I’m a US citizen goddamnit. I’ve lived in this country for over fifty years. I’ve served in the military!”

               “Calm down. I doubt they can revoke your citizenship. But the presidency seems…unlikely.”

               “What?”

               “Well I can only speculate, but you’re not naturally born.”

               “But the court ruling…”

               “Only allowed you to run because your father was stationed overseas on a military base. If he’s not your father then it has no bearing on things. You were born outside of the US.”

               “But he is my father! He raised me. By himself. He’s the only parent I’ve ever known.”

               “He filed for emancipation when you were seventeen. The court rejected it, but the request has also been leaked. You need to call him.”

               “Helen,” Yamoto muttered. “She’s the one behind this.”

               “Frankly it doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t. This is happening now. The person you need to speak to is your father.”

 

               Yamoto’s father refused to take any of his calls. He was forced to fly down to Florida himself to see in person where the truth lay. Gregory Samson had never been a friendly figure in Yamoto’s life. An ex-military type he approached parenthood as if it were a battle. They had grown distant in Yamoto’s teenage years, he had thought it, not quite natural, but normal part of growing up. Yamoto had tried to patch things up several times throughout their adult life. His wife had always warned him it was a lost cause, but he had never managed to shake a feeling of respect he had for his father raising him alone, despite the troubles.

               Now everything was different. The hostility wasn’t normal of a strict father. And the petty injustices he had felt levied against him as a teenager had been real and not imagined as he had convinced himself.

               Attempts to reconnect with Gregory had never gotten as far as visiting his retirement house. It seemed so ordinary for someone so standoffish, a modest suburban home almost identical to every other on the street. With an anxious sigh, he knocked on the door.

               He heard shuffling around inside, but it took several minutes for the door to open. There he was, far more wrinkled than he had seen him last, but it was his father, or at least, the man who had raised him for eighteen years.

               “You look taller on TV,” he grunted before retreating into the house, leaving the door open for Yamoto to follow. He tottered into the living room and collapsed on the couch. “Well? What have you got to say?”

               “Is it true?”

               “If you’re asking me if it’s true that your mother was a lying whore, then yes.”

               “Did you know the whole time?”

               “I divorced her, didn’t I?”

               “Why did you take me?”

               “To stop her having you.”

               “Are you really that…petty?”

               “Seems I am.” Gregory looked smug. Was he honestly enjoying this? Could a person honestly enjoy this?

               “Why now? Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

               “And what? Have you go looking for her? No. She wasn’t getting a reunion with you. Not in this life time.”

               “She’s alive?”

               “She was.”

               Multiple elections had made Yamoto quite an actor. No matter how stressful and tiring a nationwide campaign was, you always had to go out on stage with your best face on. He tried to control his emotions now, but couldn’t hold back some tears. “And why now?”

               “Couldn’t tell anyone before the results were in. Otherwise the democrats would have won. Your VP will probably become president now. Nice lady.”

               “You scheming conniving bastard.” Yamoto tried to fill his words with anger, but he could barely muster any strength to shout.

               “No more questions then?” Gregory asked. “If so, you know where the door is.”

               “Three out of four voters in this country want me as president,” Yamoto informed him. “I’m a popular candidate on both sides of the party divide. I could make this country a better place. This isn’t fair!”

               “Don’t talk to me of fair boy. A woman lied to me about getting her pregnant and I was saddled with a Jap for eighteen years.  If there’s any justice in the world they’ll deport you back to that godforsaken island you came from. So long as I’m breathing you’ll never be president, nor will any of your kind.”

               That gave Yamoto some renewed resolve. “I’m going to challenge this. Neither of us might want it, but in the eyes of the law you are my father. Your kind won’t live forever. And once I’m in charge I’m going to do my damnest to make sure you die quickly.”

               Gregory only smirked. “We shall see.”

 

Sorry, but you're too late. Deadline was last night. It's always a Saturday night. In my timezone, that is.

[Ottservia]

2 minutes ago, Anacybele said:

Sorry, but you're too late. Deadline was last night. It's always a Saturday night. In my timezone, that is.

Didn’t Anon do a minor extension? Or was that never finalized?

[Anacybele]

1 hour ago, Ottservia said:

Didn’t Anon do a minor extension? Or was that never finalized?

That was never finalized as far as I know.

[Jotari]

2 hours ago, Ottservia said:

Didn’t Anon do a minor extension? Or was that never finalized?

Well the poll hasn't been put up yet so that's good enough for me to post. If anyone is personally litigious enough to not read or vote for it on those grounds then fair enough.

[SoulWeaver]

6 hours ago, Jotari said:

Alright. It's short, but I managed to put something out.

Title: Blood and Soil

Wordcount: 1783

  Reveal hidden contents

               Yamoto paced the room, a pit of worry deep in his stomach. He was in the upper floors of his hotel, far away from the rest of his campaign team. There was a TV nearby and a laptop beside his bed. He knew he could look at either to know how the election was going, but he resisted. It was too late to change anything now. So instead he waited. He told himself he would paint his model World War II planes, but he couldn’t hold his hands steady enough. Pacing was all he could do to pass the time and try to keep the nerves from over taking him. If he’d won, wouldn’t someone have shown by now? Eventually there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he called.

               His future chief of staff Donald walked in. He averted Yamoto’s eyes.

               “Well?” Yamoto asked.

               Donald tried, but couldn’t hid his smile. “It was a landslide.”

               “A landslide!?” Yamoto immediately grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. It went immediately to a news channel showing his face.

               “Winning 406 electoral college seats and 76% of the popular vote, Yamoto Samson now stands to be the 47^th President of the United States.”

               “401! 76% By god, it’s no Reagan, but I’ll take it,” he cheered. Then his eyes narrowed on Donald. “Why didn’t you come sooner? I must have been the president elect for several hours now.

               Donald laughed. “You were so nervous. I decided to let you stew a little. You should have had more confidence.”

               Yamoto turned his attention back to the television. “Born in 1969 on the Japanese island of Okinawa, Samson will also be the first president of Asian descent and also the first not born on US soil.”

               “You know that’s true racially, but not ethnically,” he commented. “Obama was raised by an Indonesian father.”

               “So you’ve said before,” Donald reminded him.

               It was true. Towards the end of the campaign he had developed something of an obsession with Obama. He saw a lot of similarities between the two of them despite Obama being a democrat. Both were half white, yet judged largely by their minority racial heritage even though neither had any ethnic connection to it. Although unlike Obama, Donald never had to face any birther conspiracies, the circumstances of his birth had been divulged before election and a Supreme Court ruling granted him the ability to run on the basis that his father had been stationed on an American military base when he was born. If he could, he’d over turn the natural born citizen clause while he was in office. Where or how someone was born is irrelevant compared to their actual actions and intentions. It was a philosophy that endeared him to a lot of democrats.

               The news channel changed over to a familiar scene in the convention room of the hotel where his campaign team were celebrating. “I should get down there and give a…speech.” His running mate Helen Lerone was giving a speech. Not just being interviewed, but giving a speech to the entire crowd.

               Yamoto swore. “How dare she.”

               “The president elect is indisposed right now, but I’m sure he will be as thrilled as I am when he hears the news.”

               “She’s stealing my speech,” Yamoto growled.

               “Well it’s only natural, you’re not down there. I don’t think she can be blamed when it was your decision to wait up here.”

               “I didn’t ask you to wait until after all the votes had been counted to come and get me.”

               Yamoto threw on his coat and barged out of the room. He found Helen sipping champagne in the room down stairs. At least it wasn’t a long speech. “What do you think you’re doing?” he hissed as he pulled her away.

               “Yamoto,” she said with a slightly tipsy smile. “You made it.”

               “Of course I made it. Why didn’t you send someone to tell me the results were in.”

               “You said you wanted to be alone, so we left you alone.”

               “Did I say you could steal my victory speech too?”

               “Relax, there are still plenty of cameras around. They want your moment as much as you do.”

               She was right. People had noticed his entrance into the room and were starting to crowd already. “This is not a good start to your vice presidency,” he warned her just before putting on his smile for the camera.

               He meant it to be the last word but he heard her mutter under her breath just before the press started asking him questions. “Threatening me is not a good start to your presidency.”

 

               The months passed as he awaited for his predecessor to finish his term. There was more to do as a president elect than he realized. He didn’t have time to mull over Helen’s threat. In fact, she had been working so dutifully alongside him he had almost forgotten about it entirely.  That’s why it hit him like a tonne of bricks one day when Donald told him to check the news. He was out jogging in central park and could only check via the articles on his phone.

               PRESIDENT ELECT YAMOTO NOT A U.S CITIZEN

               Don’t be spreading more of that birther conspiracy trash, he messaged back to Donald.

               This is serious, came the reply. Keep reading.

               He checked the first article he’d seen and began reading beyond the headline. His heart was pumping rapidly from the workout, but the news was still enough to stop it cold. He had to sit down. He checked another article and another, even though he knew it would say the same thing. A DNA test had been leaked to the public. He wasn’t his father’s son. Multiple independent sources had confirmed it as legitimate.

               He called Donald. “What the hell does this mean?”

               “I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like this. But you weren’t born on US soil and neither of your biological parents were American.”

               “I’m a US citizen goddamnit. I’ve lived in this country for over fifty years. I’ve served in the military!”

               “Calm down. I doubt they can revoke your citizenship. But the presidency seems…unlikely.”

               “What?”

               “Well I can only speculate, but you’re not naturally born.”

               “But the court ruling…”

               “Only allowed you to run because your father was stationed overseas on a military base. If he’s not your father then it has no bearing on things. You were born outside of the US.”

               “But he is my father! He raised me. By himself. He’s the only parent I’ve ever known.”

               “He filed for emancipation when you were seventeen. The court rejected it, but the request has also been leaked. You need to call him.”

               “Helen,” Yamoto muttered. “She’s the one behind this.”

               “Frankly it doesn’t matter if she is or isn’t. This is happening now. The person you need to speak to is your father.”

 

               Yamoto’s father refused to take any of his calls. He was forced to fly down to Florida himself to see in person where the truth lay. Gregory Samson had never been a friendly figure in Yamoto’s life. An ex-military type he approached parenthood as if it were a battle. They had grown distant in Yamoto’s teenage years, he had thought it, not quite natural, but normal part of growing up. Yamoto had tried to patch things up several times throughout their adult life. His wife had always warned him it was a lost cause, but he had never managed to shake a feeling of respect he had for his father raising him alone, despite the troubles.

               Now everything was different. The hostility wasn’t normal of a strict father. And the petty injustices he had felt levied against him as a teenager had been real and not imagined as he had convinced himself.

               Attempts to reconnect with Gregory had never gotten as far as visiting his retirement house. It seemed so ordinary for someone so standoffish, a modest suburban home almost identical to every other on the street. With an anxious sigh, he knocked on the door.

               He heard shuffling around inside, but it took several minutes for the door to open. There he was, far more wrinkled than he had seen him last, but it was his father, or at least, the man who had raised him for eighteen years.

               “You look taller on TV,” he grunted before retreating into the house, leaving the door open for Yamoto to follow. He tottered into the living room and collapsed on the couch. “Well? What have you got to say?”

               “Is it true?”

               “If you’re asking me if it’s true that your mother was a lying whore, then yes.”

               “Did you know the whole time?”

               “I divorced her, didn’t I?”

               “Why did you take me?”

               “To stop her having you.”

               “Are you really that…petty?”

               “Seems I am.” Gregory looked smug. Was he honestly enjoying this? Could a person honestly enjoy this?

               “Why now? Why didn’t you tell me years ago?”

               “And what? Have you go looking for her? No. She wasn’t getting a reunion with you. Not in this life time.”

               “She’s alive?”

               “She was.”

               Multiple elections had made Yamoto quite an actor. No matter how stressful and tiring a nationwide campaign was, you always had to go out on stage with your best face on. He tried to control his emotions now, but couldn’t hold back some tears. “And why now?”

               “Couldn’t tell anyone before the results were in. Otherwise the democrats would have won. Your VP will probably become president now. Nice lady.”

               “You scheming conniving bastard.” Yamoto tried to fill his words with anger, but he could barely muster any strength to shout.

               “No more questions then?” Gregory asked. “If so, you know where the door is.”

               “Three out of four voters in this country want me as president,” Yamoto informed him. “I’m a popular candidate on both sides of the party divide. I could make this country a better place. This isn’t fair!”

               “Don’t talk to me of fair boy. A woman lied to me about getting her pregnant and I was saddled with a Jap for eighteen years.  If there’s any justice in the world they’ll deport you back to that godforsaken island you came from. So long as I’m breathing you’ll never be president, nor will any of your kind.”

               That gave Yamoto some renewed resolve. “I’m going to challenge this. Neither of us might want it, but in the eyes of the law you are my father. Your kind won’t live forever. And once I’m in charge I’m going to do my damnest to make sure you die quickly.”

               Gregory only smirked. “We shall see.”

 

This felt kind of weird, but overall pretty well written. You do have a point where you wrote Donald and should have wrote Yamato, probably ought to fix that.

[Anacybele]

1 hour ago, SoulWeaver said:

This felt kind of weird, but overall pretty well written. You do have a point where you wrote Donald and should have wrote Yamato, probably ought to fix that.

@Jotari Yeah, I agree with this. And I also think it feels unfinished, because I find myself wanting to see if Yamoto succeeds in keeping the presidency and stopping his father's scheming. xP

But otherwise, yeah, pretty well written!

Edited July 19, 2020 by Anacybele

[Jotari]

7 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

This felt kind of weird, but overall pretty well written. You do have a point where you wrote Donald and should have wrote Yamato, probably ought to fix that.

Much appreciated. Probably not the only typo in there. Didn't do any editing.

[Anacybele]

Still no poll yet? Weird...

Guess I'll critique the one entry I haven't done so for yet though.

@Azure loves his Half Elves As much as I dislike Felix, this was really well written and made me feel for Ashe too. I feel like this entry is our winner this round, actually. I definitely would concede defeat too, it has more emotion and impact than my entry ever could. I just wrote a father having fun teaching his kid about his own patriotism... lol Not anything deep like this. I'm not sure how I'd improve this, really.

And now, I still await critique on my own entry. xP

Edited July 20, 2020 by Anacybele

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

The timer is still going, because there was an extension of time.

I think the poll will be up tomorrow, honestly.

Also, thanks @Anacybele.

[Anacybele]

Just now, Azure loves his Half Elves said:

The timer is still going, because there was an extension of time.

I think the poll will be up tomorrow, honestly.

Also, thanks @Anacybele.

When? This was never official to my knowledge. Anon should have said something before. I've been waiting for the poll for many hours.

No problem though.

[SoulWeaver]

2 hours ago, Anacybele said:

Weird...Guess I'll critique the one entry I haven't done so for yet though.

Bruh.

On 7/18/2020 at 11:36 PM, SoulWeaver said:

Meanwhile, three Game Theories, a JonTron, and a game night with missionaries later, I present this...whatever it is. Ends kind of abruptly and it's rather short, but it's freaking 25 minutes to midnight, my family's waiting on me for scriptures, you get the idea. Immediately thought of these two upon hearing the prompt and I'm glad nobody else has got to them.