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

[AnonymousSpeed]

12 hours ago, Ottservia said:

Don’t you fucking test me

Integrate Ln(e^x) in the next fifteen seconds or you fail.

EDIT: You have failed the test.

2 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

Did he say that? I didn’t hear it in there, and I found this particular video very helpful - if nothing else I learned Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee are in a movie together, that alone makes the video a net positive on society.

Did you not already know about Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon?

Edited October 2, 2020 by AnonymousSpeed

[SoulWeaver]

2 hours ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

Did you not already know about Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon?

Dude, I've watched maybe four non-Jackie Chan kung fu movies all the way through and three of them were about a fricking panda. Forbidden Kingdom was hype though, Jackie Chan and Jet Li together was awesome to watch.

[Ottservia]

5 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

Did he say that? I didn’t hear it in there, and I found this particular video very helpful - if nothing else I learned Chuck Norris and Bruce Lee are in a movie together, that alone makes the video a net positive on society.

He said it in a different video and that video isn’t very good so yeah

[AnonymousSpeed]

1 hour ago, Ottservia said:

He said it in a different video and that video isn’t very good so yeah

There a timestamp in this video you don't have to watch the whole thing:

Then again, I don't follow this Eyepatch guy. He could have some really concerning opinions, like saying its okay to sexualize underage girls.

[SoulWeaver]

20 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

There a timestamp in this video you don't have to watch the whole thing:

 

To be fair there are times when someone saying that has a point. Also is that person in the bottom corner at 1:03 wearing a fricking BIONICLE suit, because I'm pretty sure that's the Kanohi Hau on their face.

also he says Legend of Dragoon is bad I can't take him seriously

[SoulWeaver]

Guys I'm actually feeling pretty good about this one so far. Couple more videos I found that I personally think helped me out.

Spoiler

 

 

 

 

[AnonymousSpeed]

5 hours ago, SoulWeaver said:

To be fair there are times when someone saying that has a point. Also is that person in the bottom corner at 1:03 wearing a fricking BIONICLE suit, because I'm pretty sure that's the Kanohi Hau on their face.

also he says Legend of Dragoon is bad I can't take him seriously

hey wait I didn't mean to make a post

Edited October 3, 2020 by AnonymousSpeed

[SoulWeaver]

10 minutes ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

hey wait I didn't mean to make a post

What no I missed it aaaaagh

[TheSilentChloey]

Title: Birb vs Birb

Words: 2,162

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes (/Awakening )

Spoiler

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1yGL6dmI1Zg6gRZqP4jx0GfKpZlQ0sPO9P-8KGm7gFBo/edit?usp=drivesdk

So I got it done, as in one of two.  The second one...well it's not finished yet and features two fights.

[eclipse]

I'm back solely to post an entry for this.  Turns out the thing I'm writing off-site fits this prompt perfectly!

Title: Fashionably Offensive
Fandom: Original
Words:
Notes: The lack of names is intentional.  Yes, there's a world behind it, and no, I'm not going to go too much into detail on a public forum.  Ending's rough because it should segue into a lot of other things.  If the premise seems vaguely familiar. . .it's not an accident.

Spoiler

The gods had it out for me today.

It would've been far more pleasant if I had found anyone ELSE in this forsaken alley.  But him?  He was a head taller than me and roughly my weight plus half, all of the difference in muscle.  The only witnesses to the beating I would most likely receive would be a pair of dirty yellow dumpsters, overflowing with trash.

Not only was I in for something that would most likely put me in the hospital, I would smell awful afterwards.

He roared and charged.  One of the advantages I had was speed, and I ducked and stepped to the side.  Undeterred, he pivoted on his heel and swung a meaty fist towards my face.  Rather than have him rearrange my relatively handsome features, I lurched further to the side.  The dumpsters protested with a metal clang as I ran into them, and I used their metallic bulk to right myself.  It shifted when I put pushed against it.  Interesting.

"You'll pay," he growled.

"For what?  You aren't selling anything!" I replied cheekily.  His size wasn't as threatening if I could cloud his judgment.  The growl from his throat told me that my verbal jab had been spot-on.  Instead of charging me, he swung his fist towards my midsection.  The world slowed down, and I saw myself grab his wrist and guide it behind me.  Time righted itself when a bang and a lot of swearing indicated that my plan had worked.

"YOU KNOW WHY!" he shouted.  Despite his new hand wound, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me roughly into the wall next to the dumpsters.  My vision momentarily blurred, and I heard my head bounce off the wall.  His fist found my solar plexus, and I felt whatever was left of my breakfast rise up in my throat.

"That hurt, you bastard," I coughed out weakly.  He'd go for my face next, like he always did.  I had guided his right fist towrads the dumpster, so I relied on my instincts to dodge the blow I couldn't see coming.  I felt nothing, but heard more swearing.  Good.  Maybe I'd get out of this without too many serious injuries.  When I dared to look up, his left hand sported flecks of blood.

"You still haven't landed a punch on me," he bragged.

"Don't have to.  You're doing a fine job of beating the crap out of yourself."  The pain in my stomach subsided, and I gingerly stood up.  My green eyes locked with his blue ones, which burned with anger and jealously.  Right, we'd both been interested in the same girl, but she only had eyes for one of us.  First date had gone swimmingly, too.  Was going to meet her tonight, injuries permitting.

"Well fine.  I'll stand here and block you in until you do something.  I'm free for the rest of the day."  Now that wouldn't do!  I launched a jab at his face, which he easily evaded.  He wasn't fast enough to dodge the kick aimed as his shins.  Pain rang through my leg after my foot connected.  What was he wearing under his pants?  The attack had knocked him on his rear, and we stayed apart for a few seconds.  My leg sang while he stood up unsteadily.

"The hell was that?" I mumbled.  He grabbed my jacket and yanked me towards him.  Instead, the material came apart like an old plastic bag, which left my jacket in tatters and him with a handful of useless black cloth.  He started dumbfoundedly at his new acquisition, while I used the momentum to swing my elbow into his chest.  He grunted.

"You always hit like a girl," he said evenly.

"Sounds like a compliment," I said with a grin.  Before he could process my response, I extended my arm and the back of my fist connected with his face.  Chances are, everything below his waist would hurt me if I tried to strike him there.  I brought my knee up to his stomach, then finished with a proper punch to his face.  He staggered back.

"I almost felt that," came the smug reply.  The blood from his nose said otherwise.  With speed that belied his frame, he closed in, slamming his shin into mine.  Pain blossomed in my legs, and I yelped.  Next came another blow to my stomach, followed by a hand to my throat.  He slammed my head against the wall.  This time, my vision doubled.  Out of desperation, I flatted the back of my hands against the inside of his arms, and raked down.  Much to my surprise, I felt blood on my fingers.  He screamed and let me go.

"THAT was not cool!"  I had to agree with my assailant on that one.  It was a move that would only work on someone who wore a short-sleeved shirt like his, but damn if it wasn't effective in breaking someone's stranglehold!

"Be thankful I didn't target your pretty blue eyes," I responded sarcastically.  In response, he grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the dumpster.  Instead, I fell to the floor, which was now made of plain metal.  Gone was the abandoned alley, replaced by a room made of steel.  The smell of the dumpster lingered.

"That's enough, you two!" came the voice of a cranky old man from the speakers.  "Any more and you'll both end up in the hospital for the next few days!"

"I have plans tonight!" I complained.  My opponent stared at his forearms instead of helping me up.

"Really, what the hell.  Nail polish shouldn't leave these kinds of injuries!"  He turned his arms to me, which steadily dripped blood.

"I could ask the same of you.  What kind of pants are you wearing?"  He opened his mouth to answer, but the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"The two of you will be debriefed AFTER the hospital gives you a clean bill of health.  And after we get that nail polish off both of you."

"You too?" I asked.

"It serves a different purpose," my opponent grumbled.  He gingerly ran his nails over his bloodied arms.  I grimaced in sympathy.  "Do I need to carry you to the hospital?"  I shook my head and bit back a wave of nausea.  He shrugged and walked towards the door, with me following unsteady in his wake.

The world blurred.  I would miss tonight's date.  The last thing I remembered was my opponent desperately yelling for someone to bring a stretcher.

 

[Benice]

1 minute ago, eclipse said:

I'm back solely to post an entry for this. 

OH MY GOD YOU'RE ALIVE! Glad to see that you're OK.

 

~~~

Uh, anyways, I forgot that this thread existed...It's Kaga's fault, okay? Blame him. Or Takumi.  But I think I might have a good* idea... Hey, maybe I'll actually pull something off this time, who knows!

*Very cringe-worthy and mostly generic

[TheSilentChloey]

20 hours ago, eclipse said:

I'm back solely to post an entry for this.  Turns out the thing I'm writing off-site fits this prompt perfectly!

Title: Fashionably Offensive
Fandom: Original
Words:
Notes: The lack of names is intentional.  Yes, there's a world behind it, and no, I'm not going to go too much into detail on a public forum.  Ending's rough because it should segue into a lot of other things.  If the premise seems vaguely familiar. . .it's not an accident.

  Reveal hidden contents

The gods had it out for me today.

It would've been far more pleasant if I had found anyone ELSE in this forsaken alley.  But him?  He was a head taller than me and roughly my weight plus half, all of the difference in muscle.  The only witnesses to the beating I would most likely receive would be a pair of dirty yellow dumpsters, overflowing with trash.

Not only was I in for something that would most likely put me in the hospital, I would smell awful afterwards.

He roared and charged.  One of the advantages I had was speed, and I ducked and stepped to the side.  Undeterred, he pivoted on his heel and swung a meaty fist towards my face.  Rather than have him rearrange my relatively handsome features, I lurched further to the side.  The dumpsters protested with a metal clang as I ran into them, and I used their metallic bulk to right myself.  It shifted when I put pushed against it.  Interesting.

"You'll pay," he growled.

"For what?  You aren't selling anything!" I replied cheekily.  His size wasn't as threatening if I could cloud his judgment.  The growl from his throat told me that my verbal jab had been spot-on.  Instead of charging me, he swung his fist towards my midsection.  The world slowed down, and I saw myself grab his wrist and guide it behind me.  Time righted itself when a bang and a lot of swearing indicated that my plan had worked.

"YOU KNOW WHY!" he shouted.  Despite his new hand wound, he grabbed my shoulders and shoved me roughly into the wall next to the dumpsters.  My vision momentarily blurred, and I heard my head bounce off the wall.  His fist found my solar plexus, and I felt whatever was left of my breakfast rise up in my throat.

"That hurt, you bastard," I coughed out weakly.  He'd go for my face next, like he always did.  I had guided his right fist towrads the dumpster, so I relied on my instincts to dodge the blow I couldn't see coming.  I felt nothing, but heard more swearing.  Good.  Maybe I'd get out of this without too many serious injuries.  When I dared to look up, his left hand sported flecks of blood.

"You still haven't landed a punch on me," he bragged.

"Don't have to.  You're doing a fine job of beating the crap out of yourself."  The pain in my stomach subsided, and I gingerly stood up.  My green eyes locked with his blue ones, which burned with anger and jealously.  Right, we'd both been interested in the same girl, but she only had eyes for one of us.  First date had gone swimmingly, too.  Was going to meet her tonight, injuries permitting.

"Well fine.  I'll stand here and block you in until you do something.  I'm free for the rest of the day."  Now that wouldn't do!  I launched a jab at his face, which he easily evaded.  He wasn't fast enough to dodge the kick aimed as his shins.  Pain rang through my leg after my foot connected.  What was he wearing under his pants?  The attack had knocked him on his rear, and we stayed apart for a few seconds.  My leg sang while he stood up unsteadily.

"The hell was that?" I mumbled.  He grabbed my jacket and yanked me towards him.  Instead, the material came apart like an old plastic bag, which left my jacket in tatters and him with a handful of useless black cloth.  He started dumbfoundedly at his new acquisition, while I used the momentum to swing my elbow into his chest.  He grunted.

"You always hit like a girl," he said evenly.

"Sounds like a compliment," I said with a grin.  Before he could process my response, I extended my arm and the back of my fist connected with his face.  Chances are, everything below his waist would hurt me if I tried to strike him there.  I brought my knee up to his stomach, then finished with a proper punch to his face.  He staggered back.

"I almost felt that," came the smug reply.  The blood from his nose said otherwise.  With speed that belied his frame, he closed in, slamming his shin into mine.  Pain blossomed in my legs, and I yelped.  Next came another blow to my stomach, followed by a hand to my throat.  He slammed my head against the wall.  This time, my vision doubled.  Out of desperation, I flatted the back of my hands against the inside of his arms, and raked down.  Much to my surprise, I felt blood on my fingers.  He screamed and let me go.

"THAT was not cool!"  I had to agree with my assailant on that one.  It was a move that would only work on someone who wore a short-sleeved shirt like his, but damn if it wasn't effective in breaking someone's stranglehold!

"Be thankful I didn't target your pretty blue eyes," I responded sarcastically.  In response, he grabbed me by my hair and threw me against the dumpster.  Instead, I fell to the floor, which was now made of plain metal.  Gone was the abandoned alley, replaced by a room made of steel.  The smell of the dumpster lingered.

"That's enough, you two!" came the voice of a cranky old man from the speakers.  "Any more and you'll both end up in the hospital for the next few days!"

"I have plans tonight!" I complained.  My opponent stared at his forearms instead of helping me up.

"Really, what the hell.  Nail polish shouldn't leave these kinds of injuries!"  He turned his arms to me, which steadily dripped blood.

"I could ask the same of you.  What kind of pants are you wearing?"  He opened his mouth to answer, but the loudspeaker crackled to life.

"The two of you will be debriefed AFTER the hospital gives you a clean bill of health.  And after we get that nail polish off both of you."

"You too?" I asked.

"It serves a different purpose," my opponent grumbled.  He gingerly ran his nails over his bloodied arms.  I grimaced in sympathy.  "Do I need to carry you to the hospital?"  I shook my head and bit back a wave of nausea.  He shrugged and walked towards the door, with me following unsteady in his wake.

The world blurred.  I would miss tonight's date.  The last thing I remembered was my opponent desperately yelling for someone to bring a stretcher.

 

Oh my god Eclipse is ALIVE!

 

Thank god for that!

 

You should post more stories if you've got them.

[Azure the Scale Tipper]

So, how many days are left for people to write this round?

[Ottservia]

3 hours ago, Azure loves his Half Elves said:

So, how many days are left for people to write this round?

I think two days

[SoulWeaver]

I'm so close, and yet so far away, I have no idea how the frick to wrap it up.

[SoulWeaver]

Aaaalrightalrightalright, ladies and gents, let's see what you all think.

Spoiler

clicky!

 

[TheSilentChloey]

I like!

[Jotari]

Alright, I have a piece for this. It's actually and old extract taken from a larger story.  I wrote it, wow probably like seven or eight years ago. My prose has improved since then, I think. Honestly I should have probably taken the same scene and rewrote it in it's entirety to get something up to standard. But really the whole point of this competition being encouraging to write something hasn't really been working for me recently. I thought of writing something original, but honestly I find this prompt quite difficult. For me what makes for a good fight are the emotional stakes behind what's happening more than any technical detail. Especially in a non visual medium like this wherein over technical descriptions just don't work as well as seeing them. Problem is that it's kind of hard to build up that emotional context and stakes in a short story (haven't read how the other entrants have attempted it yet). That's why I thought this fight would suit particularly well as the context behind it isn't massively complex and it does have some technical interest being a sword vs bow fight. Though reading it just now it is kind of short, in a revised version there was some more playing with arrows as steps up the valley wall, but I won't post that  since it's POV leads to more references that wouldn't work for a short story. Guh, I do want to just rewrite it entirely now, but as usual I've procrastinated until Sunday night to toss something together. Someone give a good prompt next round. I really want to give it my all and write a piece I'm actually satisfied for a change.

Title: Through Osprey's Eyes

Wordcount: 2781

Spoiler

               Osprey tested the twin strings of her bow Argentia. Years of use had failed to take any toil on the weapon at all. She took aim at a raven flying high above her. It was not one of the two ravens following her though it could still belong to Capalla. Carefully she shot one of her two nocked arrow high in the direction of the bird. As she intended the arrow missed and the raven flew away in the direction it had come from. She had no doubts now, it was a fairy. Her heart rate began to quicken. Did that mean he was on his way? Her nemesis. The man she was born to fight. Harrow, the Son of Fate. She knew it was far from any real indicator, but something deep down inside her told her that it was time. She had been waiting here in this valley for days now. She had been convinced they had travelled the other way, but now she was convinced otherwise. He was coming.

               She looked at the arrow that lay embedded on the valley floor and concentrated. It wobbled slightly but failed to move. She frowned. Magic had never been her strong suit, neither had melee combat much to her father's dismay. It was the bow that she had learned to love. The precision involved with aiming. The minute, instinctual, calculations. The trill as the arrow is launched at a speed faster than anything else man had made. She lived to shoot. For her there was no greater pleasure in the world. Naturally she loved her bow Argentia above all else too. She cared for it more than the father that gave it to her. It responded to her every whim as if it were alive. Perfect weight and a perfectly tight set of strings. It was even amazing to look at, being made almost entirely from silver and gold. However she knew it might not be enough alone to take down this particular foe. She had made sure to bring along four miniature crossbows. Two now lay at her hip while the other two were tied to her back.

                As she nocked another arrow he came around the corner. Without thinking, without even considering it might be someone else, she shot both. With a sheathed sword he blocked the first arrow, but the second caught him in the shoulder. It was him. She was certain it was him. Harrow was the only one who could block an attack from Argentia without magic. It had to be him. She smiled as he quickly dodged behind a boulder. She had hit him. If it were not for Argentia's twin strings she would have failed. She kissed the bow lightly. It had done well. Harrow would be slower now. The job was not yet over but now it was only a matter of time. Part of her regretted that she would not get to talk to the man she had spent her entire life waiting to meet.

               Without warning he dashed out from behind the rock, sword drawn. She fired two more arrows at him as fast as she could, but he blocked them with ease. She frowned as she readied two more. He didn't seem slowed at all. In fact he was travelling with such speed she didn't even have a chance to fire another round. He leaped over her cover and brought his sword down onto Argentia. He attacked with a lot of force but Argentia saved her once more with its refusal to break. With all the force she could muster she pushed him back. She gained some distance and drew two more arrows.

               She did not fire immediately. She wanted to talk to him first, but she couldn't think of a single word to say. She had looked forward to this encounter all her life, yet now she failed to think of a single thing to say to the man that caused her existence. Should she tell him who she was? Of the relationship their parents had?

               Instead he spoke first. "Who are you?" he asked.

               She decided to keep things simple, for now. "You can call me Osprey," she said. "I am a Hero like you."

               "You know who I am?" he asked.

               She nodded. "Yes. You are Harrow the Horrible. The greatest Hero of this age. One of my employers warned me you would be here. I must admit you really sweeten the deal. It will be an honour to do battle with one as great as you. An honour I have been waiting all my life to receive. I wasn’t actually expecting you to take this route though. How fortunate for me." She smiled. She couldn't help herself.

                 "Who is your employer?" More questions. He was an inquisitive one.

               "I don't mind telling you since one of us will die shortly. I have two employers and two missions. One is to secure princess Melleny Argos Sovernea by the decree of her father Maystros Vargo Sovernea. My other missions is to assassinate the professor known as Kyron by order of a man who calls himself Capalla. But you Harrow. You are the ultimate prize. My personal mission."

               "You're young," he observed. "What did you say your name is?"

               "Osprey."

               "Osprey." He repeated her name as if in deep thought. "That sounds familiar. You wouldn't happen to be the Sudden Death would you?"

               Her lip curled in distaste. Of all the names she could have known her for it was that one. The one that symbolised all the shamelessness and dishonour of her weapon.

               He noticed her change in expression. "So you don't like the titles either?"

               "No. They always seem to miss the most important facts." She considered his titles. The King of Slaughter. Ivan the Impaler. He probably felt the same way as her. That brought her some happiness. They were alike the two of them. A foil to each other.

               "Fine then," he said. "No titles. This will be a battle between Harrow and Osprey. Two people from two places. One of us will live and one of us will die. Are you prepared?"

               Her heart began to quicken again. This was it. It was finally happening. She knew the chances of her dying were very real, but it no longer mattered. She was fulfilling her destiny. Winning was not important. Only the fighting. "I was born prepared," she told him.

               "Are you sure?" he asked. "I'll warn you, I've never lost before."

               "Neither have I." She launched a set of arrows. To her surprise he managed to dodge them though the look on face told her he wasn't prepared for it. If she was to win then this would require a lot more skill and focus than she had ever needed before. Argentia was a magic bow. The more power she put into it the more force her arrows would shoot with. It was never a feature she had needed until now.

               "The fact that I can dodge those shots at this range must make you realize you stand no chance against me," he said as he dashed forward and swiped his sword. Acting without thinking she dropped to the ground to avoid the blade, drew her crossbows and fired. He was just above her but in an instant he had retreated to the air and blocked the bolts with his sword. Any lesser sword would have been broken by now. She looked at his weapon as she got to her feet. It was a simple looking katana. Almost too simple looking. It must be magical in nature too.

               She abandoned the crossbows. They would take too long to reload. Instead she kicked Argentia back into her hand and nocked two more arrows. She feigned launching her arrows by releasing them and quickly grabbing the string again at a speed no normal human could manage. It had always been a useless trick she had developed. She had never thought to use it in battle. No one would have the reaction speed to even realise she was feigning a shot. No one except Harrow that is. In this one particular instance it was the one thing she could do to get a successfully shot in. He dodged early allowing her to shoot for real while he was unprepared. He still managed to avoid the first arrow, but the second hit him in the shin. Now he would realise the magnitude of what he faced. She was no small enemy. If he somehow managed to kill her today, then she would make sure to embed herself in his memory forever. But she had no intention of dying just yet. She shot to kill, but he managed to block both arrows at once with his sword. To her surprise he leaped forward and attacked again. This time with a downward arc. She dodged to the side, dropped Argentia and fired with her two remaining crossbows. Before it had even hit the ground she kicked Argentia back into her hand as he dodged and tried to counter attack.

               They were standing right beside each other now. That was his mistake. She kicked his weakened shin which caused him to fall to the ground in pain, but only briefly. He shot out with his hand and grabbed her bow. He tried to fling it across the valley, but she wouldn’t let go. She would not let him separate her from Argentia. However he was strong enough to lift her from the ground and send her flying several meters. Before she landed he tried to blast her with magic, but she managed to instinctively cast a shield to protect herself. She landed without stumbling and smiled. Her father would be proud. He always told her to focus on defensive magic.

               She now stood some distance away from him. His leg was injured and he had just failed to deal any damage with a long range attack.  This battle was hers. She drew two more arrows and fired them as fast as she could. He did not try to avoid them, instead he blocked them with his sword. He stood there waiting for her attack. She fired two more arrows with a delay in between that was different than her usual pattern. It wasn't good enough. He still managed to block with ease. She tried three more times with no more success.

               "You'll run out of arrows eventually," he said. He didn't sound distressed at all despite his situation.

               "You'll slip up," she said and she believed it. She was winning. She could do this. She knew she could. She had come too far to fail now.

               She launched four arrows at once. He managed to knock them off course with a magic attack, but she had wasted no time in firing two more. As she had hoped he was unprepared for the second volley, but to her dismay he still managed to block and avoid the attack without taking any damage. Still, the sign of weakness was there. She still had sixteen arrows left. She launched eight in succession, she was sure to hit something and once he had taken another injury he was finished.

               Except to her surprise he went on the offensive. She conjured a barrier as soon as he attacked, but he was not aiming for her. He shot a blast of magic upwards towards the valley's wall. A few minor pieces of rubble fell were dislocated but not nearly enough to concern her. She turned back to face him except he was now standing directly in front of her. She was not prepared for the insane speed in which he managed to travel the distance between them. He swung his sword but she was fast too. She threw herself backwards. It was enough to get out of the way of the attack but a loose stone found its way under her foot. She let out a barely audible "no," as she felt herself lose balance and begin to fall. He did not even wait for her to reach the ground. With a single stroke he sliced open her abdomen. Then, without hesitation, he drove his sword right through her and pinned her to the valley floor.

               No she thought. No this isn't fair. It wasn't her fault. She had slipped. It was the ground. But it didn't matter. He had won. She had hit him first, but it was his attack that finished it. The sword passed right through her chest, but still, she somehow managed to talk. "Ivan the Impaler," she whispered. She wanted to hurt him. He had been lucky. He didn't deserve to win.

               "I thought we agreed no titles," he said. She looked into his eyes. They were sad eyes. Eyes covered in a sorrow he probably didn't even realise he had. In an instant her anger vanished. She tried to talk again, but only managed to vomit blood. He removed his sword.

               "You've slain me. I think I'm entitled to call you whatever I want." She was sad now too. This man standing above her was the same as her. He was her as she was him. The world blurred and for a second he was lost from sight.

               "Die knowing you were one of the finest opponents I've ever faced," he said.

               It hurt to smile. He had killed her, but right now he seemed so kind. "Yeah," she whispered. "I think I did pretty good. I thought I almost had you." Every word was agony to form but she knew she had to speak. Somehow she had to make him understand the bond they both shared.

               He said something, but she couldn't focus on his words. "I slipped up. I should have known better." The sorrow was returning. Did it really have to end this way?

               "It only takes one mistake," he told her but she wasn't listening.

               "My bow" she gasped.

               "It's in your hand."

               He was right. She felt it there in her palms. "I know." She had always known where it was as it has never left her side. Not since the moment she had first taken it in her hand. "Please. Leave my body here but take my bow with you." She remembered the look on Capalla's face when he saw her bow. He wanted it for himself. She couldn't let that happen. Harrow would take it. She was Harrow. Through him she would always be with it. "You would honour me if you used it," she told him.

               "I will use it. I promise." He reached forward. He had misunderstood. She could not part with it yet.

               "No," she pleaded. "Wait until after I've died. Argentia...is a part of me." She hoped beyond hope that he understood what she meant, for it held more truth than anything she had ever said. "Just leave it until..." her words trailed off as the effort to speak became too much. The darkness began to sink in. She did not fear the darkness. It brought comfort. It felt like home.

               "You’re a hybrid?" Harrow said. "Like me."

               That's right she thought. He was still there. She couldn't sleep yet. She had to talk to him. She had to make him understand. Understand what, she did not know, but he had to know it. She could no longer see him nor feel him. She summoned all the reserve energy in her body. All the pieces of life that still flowed in places that were no longer needed. Her toes, her elbows, her eyes. All energy was focused on talking with the ruptured lungs. "My father was Tael. An outcast Fairy Lord as powerful as the Queens." She could see her father's face. Was he here with her? "I was born. Sixteen years ago. You were eighteen. Already you had. Made a name for yourself." Her body’s reserves of energy was gone now. All she could do was draw power from magic in the air. It would not sustain her indefinitely, but it would keep her going long enough. "He wanted to create...Something like you. All my life I've been training to surpass...You."

               "I'm sorry," she heard him say. He sounded very far away now.

               She forced the muscles in her neck to perform a dull head shake. "No. Don't apologize. Even if I was born...To full fill one purpose. And failed...I am. Still glad. Because I had a life. And it was...pretty good..." The pain was gone now. The world was gone now. She didn't know if Harrow could still hear her but she spoke anyway. "Goodbye Harrow...My creator...My killer."

 

 

 

[AnonymousSpeed]

Sorry @Jotari, the deadline for entry was last night.

Wait.

I wrote a piece for this round, I forgot to submit it.

Dang nabbit.

Frick.

GarageBand.

I'll update things later.

[SoulWeaver]

6 hours ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

Sorry @Jotari, the deadline for entry was last night.

Wait.

I wrote a piece for this round, I forgot to submit it.

Dang nabbit.

Frick.

GarageBand.

I'll update things later.

I dunno, I'd like having multiple pieces to pick between, and I think Chloey would agree. It's just us two right now, right?

Anyways, I see no problem with giving feedback even if it ends up getting demoted to non-participant.

12 hours ago, Jotari said:

Alright, I have a piece for this. It's actually and old extract taken from a larger story.  I wrote it, wow probably like seven or eight years ago. My prose has improved since then, I think. Honestly I should have probably taken the same scene and rewrote it in it's entirety to get something up to standard. But really the whole point of this competition being encouraging to write something hasn't really been working for me recently. I thought of writing something original, but honestly I find this prompt quite difficult. For me what makes for a good fight are the emotional stakes behind what's happening more than any technical detail. Especially in a non visual medium like this wherein over technical descriptions just don't work as well as seeing them. Problem is that it's kind of hard to build up that emotional context and stakes in a short story (haven't read how the other entrants have attempted it yet). That's why I thought this fight would suit particularly well as the context behind it isn't massively complex and it does have some technical interest being a sword vs bow fight. Though reading it just now it is kind of short, in a revised version there was some more playing with arrows as steps up the valley wall, but I won't post that  since it's POV leads to more references that wouldn't work for a short story. Guh, I do want to just rewrite it entirely now, but as usual I've procrastinated until Sunday night to toss something together. Someone give a good prompt next round. I really want to give it my all and write a piece I'm actually satisfied for a change.

Title: Through Osprey's Eyes

Wordcount: 2781

  Reveal hidden contents

               Osprey tested the twin strings of her bow Argentia. Years of use had failed to take any toil on the weapon at all. She took aim at a raven flying high above her. It was not one of the two ravens following her though it could still belong to Capalla. Carefully she shot one of her two nocked arrow high in the direction of the bird. As she intended the arrow missed and the raven flew away in the direction it had come from. She had no doubts now, it was a fairy. Her heart rate began to quicken. Did that mean he was on his way? Her nemesis. The man she was born to fight. Harrow, the Son of Fate. She knew it was far from any real indicator, but something deep down inside her told her that it was time. She had been waiting here in this valley for days now. She had been convinced they had travelled the other way, but now she was convinced otherwise. He was coming.

               She looked at the arrow that lay embedded on the valley floor and concentrated. It wobbled slightly but failed to move. She frowned. Magic had never been her strong suit, neither had melee combat much to her father's dismay. It was the bow that she had learned to love. The precision involved with aiming. The minute, instinctual, calculations. The trill as the arrow is launched at a speed faster than anything else man had made. She lived to shoot. For her there was no greater pleasure in the world. Naturally she loved her bow Argentia above all else too. She cared for it more than the father that gave it to her. It responded to her every whim as if it were alive. Perfect weight and a perfectly tight set of strings. It was even amazing to look at, being made almost entirely from silver and gold. However she knew it might not be enough alone to take down this particular foe. She had made sure to bring along four miniature crossbows. Two now lay at her hip while the other two were tied to her back.

                As she nocked another arrow he came around the corner. Without thinking, without even considering it might be someone else, she shot both. With a sheathed sword he blocked the first arrow, but the second caught him in the shoulder. It was him. She was certain it was him. Harrow was the only one who could block an attack from Argentia without magic. It had to be him. She smiled as he quickly dodged behind a boulder. She had hit him. If it were not for Argentia's twin strings she would have failed. She kissed the bow lightly. It had done well. Harrow would be slower now. The job was not yet over but now it was only a matter of time. Part of her regretted that she would not get to talk to the man she had spent her entire life waiting to meet.

               Without warning he dashed out from behind the rock, sword drawn. She fired two more arrows at him as fast as she could, but he blocked them with ease. She frowned as she readied two more. He didn't seem slowed at all. In fact he was travelling with such speed she didn't even have a chance to fire another round. He leaped over her cover and brought his sword down onto Argentia. He attacked with a lot of force but Argentia saved her once more with its refusal to break. With all the force she could muster she pushed him back. She gained some distance and drew two more arrows.

               She did not fire immediately. She wanted to talk to him first, but she couldn't think of a single word to say. She had looked forward to this encounter all her life, yet now she failed to think of a single thing to say to the man that caused her existence. Should she tell him who she was? Of the relationship their parents had?

               Instead he spoke first. "Who are you?" he asked.

               She decided to keep things simple, for now. "You can call me Osprey," she said. "I am a Hero like you."

               "You know who I am?" he asked.

               She nodded. "Yes. You are Harrow the Horrible. The greatest Hero of this age. One of my employers warned me you would be here. I must admit you really sweeten the deal. It will be an honour to do battle with one as great as you. An honour I have been waiting all my life to receive. I wasn’t actually expecting you to take this route though. How fortunate for me." She smiled. She couldn't help herself.

                 "Who is your employer?" More questions. He was an inquisitive one.

               "I don't mind telling you since one of us will die shortly. I have two employers and two missions. One is to secure princess Melleny Argos Sovernea by the decree of her father Maystros Vargo Sovernea. My other missions is to assassinate the professor known as Kyron by order of a man who calls himself Capalla. But you Harrow. You are the ultimate prize. My personal mission."

               "You're young," he observed. "What did you say your name is?"

               "Osprey."

               "Osprey." He repeated her name as if in deep thought. "That sounds familiar. You wouldn't happen to be the Sudden Death would you?"

               Her lip curled in distaste. Of all the names she could have known her for it was that one. The one that symbolised all the shamelessness and dishonour of her weapon.

               He noticed her change in expression. "So you don't like the titles either?"

               "No. They always seem to miss the most important facts." She considered his titles. The King of Slaughter. Ivan the Impaler. He probably felt the same way as her. That brought her some happiness. They were alike the two of them. A foil to each other.

               "Fine then," he said. "No titles. This will be a battle between Harrow and Osprey. Two people from two places. One of us will live and one of us will die. Are you prepared?"

               Her heart began to quicken again. This was it. It was finally happening. She knew the chances of her dying were very real, but it no longer mattered. She was fulfilling her destiny. Winning was not important. Only the fighting. "I was born prepared," she told him.

               "Are you sure?" he asked. "I'll warn you, I've never lost before."

               "Neither have I." She launched a set of arrows. To her surprise he managed to dodge them though the look on face told her he wasn't prepared for it. If she was to win then this would require a lot more skill and focus than she had ever needed before. Argentia was a magic bow. The more power she put into it the more force her arrows would shoot with. It was never a feature she had needed until now.

               "The fact that I can dodge those shots at this range must make you realize you stand no chance against me," he said as he dashed forward and swiped his sword. Acting without thinking she dropped to the ground to avoid the blade, drew her crossbows and fired. He was just above her but in an instant he had retreated to the air and blocked the bolts with his sword. Any lesser sword would have been broken by now. She looked at his weapon as she got to her feet. It was a simple looking katana. Almost too simple looking. It must be magical in nature too.

               She abandoned the crossbows. They would take too long to reload. Instead she kicked Argentia back into her hand and nocked two more arrows. She feigned launching her arrows by releasing them and quickly grabbing the string again at a speed no normal human could manage. It had always been a useless trick she had developed. She had never thought to use it in battle. No one would have the reaction speed to even realise she was feigning a shot. No one except Harrow that is. In this one particular instance it was the one thing she could do to get a successfully shot in. He dodged early allowing her to shoot for real while he was unprepared. He still managed to avoid the first arrow, but the second hit him in the shin. Now he would realise the magnitude of what he faced. She was no small enemy. If he somehow managed to kill her today, then she would make sure to embed herself in his memory forever. But she had no intention of dying just yet. She shot to kill, but he managed to block both arrows at once with his sword. To her surprise he leaped forward and attacked again. This time with a downward arc. She dodged to the side, dropped Argentia and fired with her two remaining crossbows. Before it had even hit the ground she kicked Argentia back into her hand as he dodged and tried to counter attack.

               They were standing right beside each other now. That was his mistake. She kicked his weakened shin which caused him to fall to the ground in pain, but only briefly. He shot out with his hand and grabbed her bow. He tried to fling it across the valley, but she wouldn’t let go. She would not let him separate her from Argentia. However he was strong enough to lift her from the ground and send her flying several meters. Before she landed he tried to blast her with magic, but she managed to instinctively cast a shield to protect herself. She landed without stumbling and smiled. Her father would be proud. He always told her to focus on defensive magic.

               She now stood some distance away from him. His leg was injured and he had just failed to deal any damage with a long range attack.  This battle was hers. She drew two more arrows and fired them as fast as she could. He did not try to avoid them, instead he blocked them with his sword. He stood there waiting for her attack. She fired two more arrows with a delay in between that was different than her usual pattern. It wasn't good enough. He still managed to block with ease. She tried three more times with no more success.

               "You'll run out of arrows eventually," he said. He didn't sound distressed at all despite his situation.

               "You'll slip up," she said and she believed it. She was winning. She could do this. She knew she could. She had come too far to fail now.

               She launched four arrows at once. He managed to knock them off course with a magic attack, but she had wasted no time in firing two more. As she had hoped he was unprepared for the second volley, but to her dismay he still managed to block and avoid the attack without taking any damage. Still, the sign of weakness was there. She still had sixteen arrows left. She launched eight in succession, she was sure to hit something and once he had taken another injury he was finished.

               Except to her surprise he went on the offensive. She conjured a barrier as soon as he attacked, but he was not aiming for her. He shot a blast of magic upwards towards the valley's wall. A few minor pieces of rubble fell were dislocated but not nearly enough to concern her. She turned back to face him except he was now standing directly in front of her. She was not prepared for the insane speed in which he managed to travel the distance between them. He swung his sword but she was fast too. She threw herself backwards. It was enough to get out of the way of the attack but a loose stone found its way under her foot. She let out a barely audible "no," as she felt herself lose balance and begin to fall. He did not even wait for her to reach the ground. With a single stroke he sliced open her abdomen. Then, without hesitation, he drove his sword right through her and pinned her to the valley floor.

               No she thought. No this isn't fair. It wasn't her fault. She had slipped. It was the ground. But it didn't matter. He had won. She had hit him first, but it was his attack that finished it. The sword passed right through her chest, but still, she somehow managed to talk. "Ivan the Impaler," she whispered. She wanted to hurt him. He had been lucky. He didn't deserve to win.

               "I thought we agreed no titles," he said. She looked into his eyes. They were sad eyes. Eyes covered in a sorrow he probably didn't even realise he had. In an instant her anger vanished. She tried to talk again, but only managed to vomit blood. He removed his sword.

               "You've slain me. I think I'm entitled to call you whatever I want." She was sad now too. This man standing above her was the same as her. He was her as she was him. The world blurred and for a second he was lost from sight.

               "Die knowing you were one of the finest opponents I've ever faced," he said.

               It hurt to smile. He had killed her, but right now he seemed so kind. "Yeah," she whispered. "I think I did pretty good. I thought I almost had you." Every word was agony to form but she knew she had to speak. Somehow she had to make him understand the bond they both shared.

               He said something, but she couldn't focus on his words. "I slipped up. I should have known better." The sorrow was returning. Did it really have to end this way?

               "It only takes one mistake," he told her but she wasn't listening.

               "My bow" she gasped.

               "It's in your hand."

               He was right. She felt it there in her palms. "I know." She had always known where it was as it has never left her side. Not since the moment she had first taken it in her hand. "Please. Leave my body here but take my bow with you." She remembered the look on Capalla's face when he saw her bow. He wanted it for himself. She couldn't let that happen. Harrow would take it. She was Harrow. Through him she would always be with it. "You would honour me if you used it," she told him.

               "I will use it. I promise." He reached forward. He had misunderstood. She could not part with it yet.

               "No," she pleaded. "Wait until after I've died. Argentia...is a part of me." She hoped beyond hope that he understood what she meant, for it held more truth than anything she had ever said. "Just leave it until..." her words trailed off as the effort to speak became too much. The darkness began to sink in. She did not fear the darkness. It brought comfort. It felt like home.

               "You’re a hybrid?" Harrow said. "Like me."

               That's right she thought. He was still there. She couldn't sleep yet. She had to talk to him. She had to make him understand. Understand what, she did not know, but he had to know it. She could no longer see him nor feel him. She summoned all the reserve energy in her body. All the pieces of life that still flowed in places that were no longer needed. Her toes, her elbows, her eyes. All energy was focused on talking with the ruptured lungs. "My father was Tael. An outcast Fairy Lord as powerful as the Queens." She could see her father's face. Was he here with her? "I was born. Sixteen years ago. You were eighteen. Already you had. Made a name for yourself." Her body’s reserves of energy was gone now. All she could do was draw power from magic in the air. It would not sustain her indefinitely, but it would keep her going long enough. "He wanted to create...Something like you. All my life I've been training to surpass...You."

               "I'm sorry," she heard him say. He sounded very far away now.

               She forced the muscles in her neck to perform a dull head shake. "No. Don't apologize. Even if I was born...To full fill one purpose. And failed...I am. Still glad. Because I had a life. And it was...pretty good..." The pain was gone now. The world was gone now. She didn't know if Harrow could still hear her but she spoke anyway. "Goodbye Harrow...My creator...My killer."

 

 

Spoiler

I like this quite a bit. I also went with a bit of the same title-hating thing, so that was interesting to see, and the Bow vs Sword is certainly an interesting matchup, I like how you went with that too. Fight was pretty well paced, I could see it in my head pretty well so your descriptions held up, and the end result actually psyched me a bit, so nice work there. Overall a clean piece.

 

[AnonymousSpeed]

21 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

I dunno, I'd like having multiple pieces to pick between, and I think Chloey would agree. It's just us two right now, right?

Nah, Eclipse entered too. No harm in feedback though.

[SoulWeaver]

Wait what the how long has eclipse been on here, how did I miss that.

[Jotari]

8 hours ago, AnonymousSpeed said:

Sorry @Jotari, the deadline for entry was last night.

Wait.

I wrote a piece for this round, I forgot to submit it.

Dang nabbit.

Frick.

GarageBand.

I'll update things later.

Was the poll already up when I posted?

[TheSilentChloey]

Three pieces this round.  Yay.

[AnonymousSpeed]

1 hour ago, SoulWeaver said:

Wait what the how long has eclipse been on here, how did I miss that.

About a week, it would seem.

 

48 minutes ago, Jotari said:

Was the poll already up when I posted?

You could just remember when you posted.

No.

Spoiler

NO EXCEPTIONS!