MISC #2 Voting Thread: A Certain Young Lady

[Astaroth]

It's that time again! Welcome to the voting thread for our second run of MISC: the Miscellaneous Iwaku Storytelling Contest. Unfortunately, we didn't get as many submissions as we did in September... but we hope this means that more people will be able to vote and give feedback on every entry.

Remember, your vote is public and voting for your own entry will get you disqualified. Also make sure you've made up your mind before you click that button, because you can't go back and change it once you cast your vote.

To review, this month's theme is:

Write a story about a character based on one of the following tropes:

A. The Mystical Waif

B. The Naive Everygirl

C. Little Miss Badass

You may either play it straight and stick true to the archetype or give it a twist and subvert the trope.​

And, as was the case last month, here are the prizes up for grabs:

MISC MANAGERS' PICK
One month of free Donator status complete with perks, a special victory ribbon under your avatar for a month, and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.

MISC COMMUNITY PICK
A special victory ribbon underneath your avatar for a month and a spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread to immortalize your win.​

This thread is where you, the community, will select your favorite! In the case of a tie in public voting, all parties with the most votes will be awarded the Community Pick prize. This thread is also where the Managers will announce their choice once judging and voting are over.

REMINDERS Voting Rules Feedback Rules

• Please make sure to read over the rules for voting and giving feedback before jumping on in.
  
  Keep in mind that entries may contain graphic material. Only entries containing explicit sexual content will be marked NSFW.
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  • All entries will be posted anonymously. Voters will need to make a selection based on the quality of the piece, not the name attached to it.
  
  
  • There will be two winners for each month of MISC: the Community Pick that receives the most votes, and a Manager Pick that will be decided in secret by the MISC managers. Each will receive separate but similar prizes for their accomplishment. On the rare occasion that there is a physical or monetary prize for the month, it will be awarded along with the Manager's Pick to avoid any temptation to pull shenanigans with the votes.
  
  
  • In the case of a tie in the public vote, each winner will receive the Community Pick prize package.
  
  
  • People who have entered the contest can vote, but they can't vote for their own entry or it'll be disqualified. Show some love to your fellow writers or don't vote, whatever feels right to you. Votes will be public knowledge so we can keep track of this.
  
  
  • You aren't allowed to tell anyone which entry is yours until AFTER the voting period is over. Doing anything to solicit votes is not allowed and will get you disqualified, and perhaps even banned from MISC altogether. Telling your friends "hey, I entered MISC this month, go read the entries and vote" is fine; telling people "go vote for #4, that's my entry" is not okay.
  
  
  • Voters are highly encouraged to read through every entry before voting. We know we can't enforce this, but try to give everyone a chance before picking your favorite.
  
  
  • The entry with the most votes at the end of the voting period will be declared the Community Pick for that month. However, if the community makes the same selection as the managers, then the second highest vote recipient will be named Community Pick; we don't intend to make the vote seem like it's playing second fiddle to our pick, it's just how it has to work so prize distribution makes sense when there are gift certificates or similar to be won, sorry! The winning entry will win fabulous prizes (fabulousness not guaranteed) and will win a permanent spot in the MISC Hall of Fame thread for all eternity (or until Iwaku explodes).
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  • Voters are highly encouraged to post in the voting thread to explain their choice. Full reviews or critiques of the entries are very welcome, but please keep any criticism constructive and civil. Telling someone that their spelling errors and odd word choice made it hard to read is fine, but telling them that they write like shit is not okay.
  
  
  • Number/letter grades are also highly discouraged as they tend to be arbitrary and to vary widely in interpretation.
  
  
  • If you would like, you may use the same rubric that the managers will be using, provided below. It's entirely optional; don't feel obliged.
  
  
  
  MISC MANAGER'S RUBRIC​
  
  TECHNIQUE
  
  - Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?
  - Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?
  - Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?
  
  STYLE
  
  - Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?
  - Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?
  - Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?
  - Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?
  
  CHARACTERIZATION
  
  - Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?
  - Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?
  - Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?
  - Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?
  - Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?
  
  CREATIVITY
  
  - Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?
  - Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?
  - Are there any subplots or underlying themes that you can identify?
  - Has the writer used symbolism, metaphor, allegory, or subtext?
  
  COHESIVENESS
  
  - Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?
  - Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?
  - Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?
  - Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?
  - Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?
  

Without further ado, here are this month's entries!

Time and Time Again

Time and Time again​

Her bare feet padded on the ground near silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise the forest made. Sighing, she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of flames, dancing, twirling and sharp and as deadly as a red hot blade.
When she woke in the bright morning light she grimaced and brushed unruly hair out of her face so she could see clearly, the bright silver strands always flew into her face from the breeze that danced through the forests. Looking to where the people had settled the night before she grimaced, they had long since left, the ashes of the fire would be cold to the touch and she didn't doubt she would be able to find them again if she truly wanted to.
Looking down at herself, she frowned, her feet were packed with mud and the stray leaves from above her had tangled themselves quite thoroughly into her hair. Picking out one of the still green leaves she starts to walk deeper into her forest. Quickly finding the almost invisible path she follows its winding whirling road to her home, a small hut, it wasn't large at all but it could house a few people if they didn't mind sleeping on benches or in wraps on the floor. As she opened the door, she smiled as Shiya yipped in greeting. The bright red fox raised her head somewhat tiredly though her eyes were alive with silent fire, Shiya tilted her head as she watched the silver haired girl soon she was turning back to her kits who were covered with her tail as they slept in the corner of the house away from any feet who strayed as they walked around the golden wood floor.
Darting to the back of the house where there was a small lake in which to clean herself the girl sighed, getting the heavily caked dirt off of her being. After bathing she walked back into the house where she dressed in a pale orange dress and tied her hair up in a loose braid. As she danced around her house cleaning any surface, she could find she sighed, a sad sound like someone who was breathing wrong to keep from crying, and jumped, startled as loud, insistent knocking banged on her door, the house tended to make the noises louder than they actually were and it would startle her every single time.
Walking over, she opened it and peered out to see the few people tiredly standing at her doorway "hello" greeted the girl who must have been knocking on the door "I'm Abell, I was wondering if you could possibly help us?" Abell spoke in a heavily accented voice, and she was looking to the people standing behind Abell, now more alert that the leader was speaking, she nodded.
"I'm Linna, it depends" Linna opened the door wider once her hands had stopped shaking "what do you need?" she spoke quickly looking up at the leader who was nearly two heads taller than her, though she was taller than most of the men there as well.
"A healer, we have many warriors, but we are quite useless without a guide and healer, we also need to know the way through the forest to the east side if you do not wish to come with us" she explained gesturing to the people behind her as Linna nodded.
"I will come with you, " she spoke quietly and with a forced smile "unless you need something else we could go now?" they all looked surprised as she stepped out and closed the door behind her without waiting for an answer.
"No we can go" and they set off with Linna leading the way and as they travel together. With the two of them leading days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Eventually they got to the destination, all with their fair share of scares and horrors only they had to see. "Let's do this" snarled Abell glaring at the too tall door and the cave it had once blocked before it was forced open.
"Be safe" reminded Linna, her knuckles white from holding too tightly onto the staff, she had gotten it from her mate as a gift not so long ago, and with a chase kiss and A echo of what she said they walked bravely into the cave. Suddenly the silence that was once overlaying the group was broken by the sound of metal on metal and it was so loud and overwhelming. The fires were brighter and the thing they fought were no longer men or woman and at the sight Linna backed away, casting as many and as powerful as she could manage spells.
But it was not enough, it never was, and as she watched them get stabbed and killed one by one tears rose in her eyes and only did they run when she saw the horrified face of her wife as she was cut through the middle by a rotting rusted sword.

Bare feet padded on the ground silent in the dreary midnight fog, hushed whispers and the howls of wolves where the only noise. As she peers through the swaying branches to look upon the moonlit Moore where many people had settled for the night.
Though she is still quite far from the red-orange light of the fire lit campsite she can still hear the singing and excited chatter of the many people who are gathered there. Glimpses of dark browns and reds flash as people dance. She smiles leaning against the tall oaken tree with dew heavy leaves covering her so she may lay and listen to the people sing. Eyes closed, she dreams of fire so bright it burns your eyes and she knows no matter how many times she returns she will always say yes.

Hated Fairytale of Tropes

Hated Fairytale of Tropes

Once upon a time, there was a guy. The guy's name was Everyman Smith, and Everyman hated everyone. They were all too stupid. In his average ordinary every day, he would see so many opportunities for something amazing just wasted away to nothing. A man born with incredible strength use it to become a farmer. An incredibly smart women became a good housewife. They had opportunities to become great heroes, or inventors and it was all wasted. People had no drive, no inspiration, and that especially applied to criminals.

Everyman wasn't inherently bad, but he couldn't count the number of plots he had formulated in his head to steal precious jewels, assassinate someone important or even conquer lands. Unfortunately for him, he didn't really have the skills to do any of that. He wasn't strong or quick. He was pretty smart, but his charisma was lacking. He had almost no affinity for magic. He trained hard to become a knight, but was never anything more than average. He had hoped that becoming a knight might give him a chance at something exciting, but as far as the kingdom was concerned absolutely nothing, no wars, no crazed wizards or rulers, even the chaotic dragon king Bahamut wasn't due for another thousand years. Knowing his bad luck, Everyman was happily reserved to hating everyone and their complacent propensities for the rest of his miserable life. His luck was about to change though.

Everyman had been sent on a mission to patrol a small farming village in the middle of nowhere. He was nearly through the seemingly endless fields that lined the road when he caught something in his peripheral vision. There was gal in a kimono running towards him and there was something following her. The longer he looked the more apparent it became that she was running from an axe wielding skeleton that was chasing her. He quickly took off from the road and darted through the field toward her. He drew his sword and readied his shield as the gap closed. She ran right into his arms. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to embrace her. He pushed her behind him and barely managed to shield off the skeletons axe. He swung his sword across his body and managed to cut off one of the skeleton's arms. The skeleton angrily swung into his shield again, knocking him sideways a bit. Everyman quickly swung again and this time made connection with the skeleton's head, knocking it clean off. The pile of bones crumbled to the ground in a jumbled mess.

He turned back towards the gal, who now sat on the ground with an almost confused look. She was a very pretty gal. Everyman thought she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. His moment of ogling might cost him his life though. Her expression of confusion turned to fear as Everyman turned to see a troll about to crush him beneath its heavy club. He shut his eyes in expectance of being flattened. He was quickly surprised when he wasn't. He looked up to see the troll's club hovering above him with a weird grey energy emanating from it. He didn't take his time to pierce his sword into the troll's chest and through its heart. With a painful roar, the troll reeled back with its club and crashed to the ground. Everyman wasn't in the clear yet though. About six more skeletons had followed the troll through the field. He prepared to face them, but he had no idea how he was going to survive this. That's when he started to feel funny. He noticed a grey glow around his body, similar to the one earlier. He moved to charge at the three skeletons off to the right, but he moved at blinding speed. Surprising even himself, he quickly reduced the three to piled masses. When looked back to the other three, he simply noticed all of their heads rolling off their shoulders before they crumbled to the ground.

The grey hue disappeared from Everyman as he returned to the gal. This time everything was clear, but both seemed equally in shock. She had remained sitting and the two stared at each other for a good minute before Everyman spoke up. "Umm, so, why were they chasing you?"

"..."

Maybe he was being too abrupt. She was just chased down by monsters. She still seemed a little in shock. Maybe he could make her feel more at ease. "My name is Everyman Smith. I'm a knight in the king's army and I just want to help you." The line was a little rehearsed, but it was one that typically garnered good responses.

"..."

He was starting to get puzzled now. Slightly wondering if she could even understand him or even speak herself. He had to figure out how to get something from her. "Do you know where you are from?"

"..."

Now he was just getting annoyed. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to get anything from her. He gave one last attempt before he resolved to just leave her. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"... Waif... Waif Nadeshiko."

Everyman was about to leave her when she spoke up. "Oh. So, you do speak. Well Waif, do you need help?" He was pretty sure he already knew the answer as she was being chased by monsters, but he was hoping it would proc a more detailed explanation.

"Yes..."

His face quickly turned from eagerly awaiting an explanation to annoyed letdown. He merely turned around and headed back for the road again. Waif quickly jumped up to her feet and chased after him. "So, now you're just going to follow me?"

"Yes..."

Everyman rolled his eyes and was almost afraid to ask, "Why?"

"I need your help."

"With what?"

"..." The expression that went along with this silence spoke more than anything she could have said. She didn't look clueless so much anymore, as she seemed fearful now of whatever she needed help with.

"Sorry. Could I help if I followed you?" Waif merely shook her head side-to-side. "Why not?"

"They're too strong."

Everyman stopped walking and held the bridge of his nose. At least he knew there was a 'they' now. "Would it work if I got more help?"

"Yes!" She got very excited at this prospect.

He started walking again, but this time away from the village. "Ok, so we'll just go get some more knights, and then we'll take care of this monster problem of yours."

"No."

He stopped walking again, as he was still rather frustrated. "What? Well, how are we going to get help then? Are you suggesting we just find some random people and make a band or party?"

"Yes! We'll need diversity."

At least he was relieved he finally had a clear course of action, even if it seemed like a long shot. "Alright. Well, we still need to head back to the city." He continued forward, back along the path he just came from earlier. Waif followed close behind him and soon started walking alongside him.

Fortunately the farm village was rather close to the city, but it still took a couple of hours to walk between them. It was getting late by the time they made it back to the city. This was both good and bad for them. It meant they wouldn't be able to go anywhere tonight, but everyone was back from work and the bars should be packed with potential friends. He guided her through the darkening city, until they came to an establishment with a wooden sign reading 'Lusty Turtle' above the door. They entered to see a place that looked packed to the brim with people from all walks of life. "This is where I typically hang out when I've got time off. Go ahead and find us some seats and I'll get some drinks. Actually do you..? Never mind, I'll need two drinks if you don't drink anyways." He left for the bar, leaving Waif alone to find a table amongst the madness.

She quickly scanned the area looking for a good target. She quickly spotted an odd group of people sitting at a table in a nook in the wall. She maneuvered her way over to their table before introducing herself. "Excuse me, my name is Waif Nadeshiko and I was hoping my friend and I could sit with you." The group stopped their idle chatter and stared in amazement before one of the men spoke up.

"If your friend looks as good as you do, then certainly." The other man chuckled while the woman rolled her eyes at the comment.

"Unfortunately he does not, but he does have a proposition for you."

The woman of the group spoke up now. "Ooohh, he has a proposition. I like the sound of a proposition."

"I suppose I could give you some background information before he comes back."

After getting drinks, Everyman searched around for Waif, wondering what sort of trouble she might have been able to get herself into. It didn't take him long to find her, but he was surprised at what he saw. At first he was a little worried that she was getting herself into trouble, but now it looked like she was actually conversing with this group of thugs. He felt a little apprehension approaching them, even while Waif was there. He wasn't sure what to think of her sudden outspokenness. He ended up staring at like she had three eyes, which only made him look like the weirdo who openly and oddly stared at people. "Everyman, come here. I was just explaining some of our situation to these people."

"Uh huh." He walked up to them, and still stared at her rather awkwardly until the woman fixed him.

"Hey! Something wrong with her? She's got a pretty face, so I know there's nothing wrong with that."

"Ahh, sorry."

"You certainly are." Everyman was not amused with her quip.

"Everyman, this is Brute,..." The large man waved a couple fingers. "Elite,..." The woman nodded her head. "and Grunt." The other man gave a chuckle at his name. "I was just giving a brief explanation of our predicament."

"I don't even know our predicament."

"What are you stupid?" Elite pipped in to the conversation. "She was just telling us about how you saved her from those monsters that attacked her, while she was walking through a field. Don't interrupt or ruin a good story."

Everyman could only think about her randomly walking through a field wearing that. Maybe if she was from the village, but he knew the village pretty well and he didn't know her. She even had those powers, she practically saved him. He wondered why she was even running in the first place. It seemed these louts were believing her story, and as long as they joined, then he didn't care. "Yes, that's when I was able to stop the troll and give him enough time to stab it in the heart. Then I was able to boost him before stopping three of the skeletons. It's fortunate they have a weakness at their neck. By the time I turned around, he had already destroyed the skeletons and returned to my side." At least she was honest about everything.

"So, I'm guessing that's where your proposition comes in to play." Elite's comment was directed towards Everyman.

"... Yes." He was still catching up on things. It seemed Waif was moving them along rather quickly, when he didn't even know she had the ability to move on at all. He still didn't have the foggiest idea of where they were moving onto either. "We need your help to take them on."

"I'm assuming there will be good pay." Elite quickly questioned.

"Of course, we couldn't ask something like this without pay." He had absolutely nothing to give them, but she seemed to be full of surprises, so he might not be lying. This would make a very interesting band indeed. They were certainly diverse and seemed to fit the bill Waif needed.

There was a sudden change in the atmosphere as the earth began to shake. A great bell could be heard ringing from a high tower above the city. Faint screams could be heard growing louder outside. Grunt finally spoke up now. "It looks like we might be working sooner than expected." The group headed outside to investigate the happenings. A dark storm could be seen overtaking the city. Pillars of smoke with red hues at the bottom could be seen rising in the distance.

"It looks like your friends are here." Brute stated sarcastically. "The whole city is going to be busy with this."

"We need to run." Waif had a truly terrified face. "Come on hurry! We need to reach the West gate."

"What? That's... fine." Everyman was prepared to save the kingdom from the impending monsters. This was his chance to face a real threat, to fight real monsters. He could investigate this outbreak and follow it back to some evil overlord where he would finally vanquish him. Although, who was he kidding. With his skills and luck, he would die to the first wave of enemies, forever instilling his fate as a nobody. He was much better off riding this mystical train to whatever fate it may hold for him. Who knows? Maybe she was the ticket to finding the source of all this. The rest of the kingdom's army should be able to hold off without him.

The band took off and made it to the West gate, but alas they ran into some monsters. The storm had caught up with them and began to unleash a torrential downpour. There didn't appear to be too many monsters for now, just a couple of vampires and harpies. Everyman began to wonder where all of these monsters were coming from and who banded them together. Those questions didn't matter now though. The trio had already taken off ahead and immediately began fighting the incoming wave. "Get a load of those hooters!" Grunt exclaimed as he cut through a harpy. "Such a shame really."

"Grunt, I would probably kill you myself if you didn't do all of the menial jobs." Elite began to scold him. "I don't think I care if you grope these bitches though." She struggled to fend one off that was flying around her head. A vampire came up behind her and was about to pierce her with a dagger, when Brute cleaved him nearly in half.

"Why is everything work with you two? Can't we just kill everyone and go get a drink? Maybe even take a nap, a nice long nap." Brute complained as he continued to fight off and hack away at vampires. If it weren't for the logic he came up with that the harder he worked the sooner he could get back to bed, then he definitely would not be as strong or skilled as he was.

Elite finally managed to cut down the harpy. "I'm sure these guys will give you a long nap if you let them." The three had managed to cut a path toward a forest, but it was evident more monsters were still on their way and the wave they were facing now hadn't even been destroyed. Everyman hadn't even reacted yet and just stood next to Waif. She was already waving her hands in preparation to cast a spell. "Hey you two, get going. We'll be able to hold them here." Without second thought, Everyman saw to what she was referring, grabbed Waif's arm and began running through the hole they had created. Waif finished casting her spell as she was drug along. It was the same spell she used earlier to bolster Everyman, except now she cast it on the other three. "Very nice, you two better come back and bring our money with you. This isn't gonna be cheap." Everyman thought about how that had to be the shortest lifespan of a band ever. He didn't look back until they reached the tree line. He saw the three cutting down monsters of all sorts with the same skill he had used earlier. More knights and even some townsfolk began to join them in the defense against the frightful raid.

Even though they were in safe in the woods, he was ready to continue on the trek. "So which way do we go now?"

"We're headed in the right direction already. It's just that... it's a two day walk to get there."

"Are you kidding me? Well I guess we'll just keep going then. We'll need to find some sort of shelter for tonight though." The two continued walking through the soggy night for a couple more hours. They eventually found a big burly tree that provided just enough cover for them to get some poor rest. The next day's hike was probably the longest and worst hike he had ever been on, and part of his knight's training even consisted of going through what they called the 'Hell Hike'. It was obvious Waif was handling it worse than he was too. It was a constant uphill grade, which only got worse as they approached the mountains. Not much was said between the two. Neither of them really had anything to say. The deciduous forest slowly began to turn into a coniferous one. The precipitation never let up either and eventually it turned to snow. Everyman wasn't dressed to handle this weather and Waif most certainly wasn't dressed to handle the chill of the approaching night.

The second night was much harder for them. They managed to find some shelter, but after a long day of hiking with little food and water, they were already weak. Everyman was pretty sure he would be fine for the night, but as he laid down and watched Waif, it looked like she was struggling pretty hard. The constant wind and cold ground sucked every ounce of heat that it could from their bodies. As sad as she looked, constantly shivering, he knew that meant that she would survive, but when she suddenly stopped shivering, he got very worried. "Waif! Wake up! Are you ok?"

She quickly began shivering again. "Huh? Y-y-yeah, I-I'm f-fine."

"Yeah right, you're totally out of it." He quickly got up and took off his armor. He moved over to her and took off his shirt too. He reached around her and undid the band to her kimono.

"W-what are y-you d-d-d-doing?" She asked as he opened the robe, revealing her to him. She gave no resistance to his sudden advancement.

"If I don't do this you're going to die." He pulled her arms out of her sleeves and crossed her chest with them. Lastly he pulled his pants off, leaving him only in boxers. He laid down next to her and did his best to cover them up with the loose articles of clothing and armor. He slid into the robe with her and wrapped his arms around her. She continued to shiver for a while, but he wasn't concerned this time when she quickly fell asleep and stopped. He knew this was even safer for him too. Their shared body heat would help keep it trapped between them. Not to mention the extra body heat Everyman was giving off now that he was embracing a naked girl. With her breasts pressed against him, he couldn't help but grow erect. He felt really awkward when his member managed to make its way out through the slit in his boxers. He couldn't help but wonder why she wore nothing under her kimono, as his member began to press into her nether lips. The feeling was sensational, but it felt wrong on so many levels as well. His hips shifted a bit, rubbing her crotch, but aside from that, nothing else happened. In fact the contact subsided when he fell asleep a few minutes later and went limp.

Although as morning rolled around, he became erect in his sleep. Waif was the first one to wake up and was overrun with the feeling of this unwelcome intruder. "What are you doing?" She shouted as she shoved him out the robe and into the snow.

Everyman was still rather out of it, as he worked on waking up from his sleep. Being thrown into the snow was a rather quick and unwelcome wake up though. "Hey! I was saving your life, you ungrateful." Waif just stared at him with an un-approving look. The snow was still falling, so he quickly collected his stuff and began to don it. She quickly rewrapped her kimono and tied it off with the obi. When Everyman finished donning his armor they continued their cold, hard trek.

It was a few more hours filled with silence that was only broken by the whistling and howling wind before they could see the fortress that lied embedded into a mountain range. The fortress was as grand as any Everyman had ever seen, possibly more so. "There it is." Waif finally broke the silence. "We should be able to sneak in the castle since the armies are away. I would have liked a band, but they should be weakened now." She had a slight hope to her words.

"Are you kidding? We're weakened. We're starving, dehydrated, tired and nearly frozen to death. Do you even think we can win this?"

"... We have to try though."

"I thought so. I don't suppose we even have any choice now. This really is our only hope. It's the kingdom's only hope." He continued on and led the way to the gate of the castle. There were two minotaur guards at the main door, but Waif was able to guide them to a side entrance. His suspicions of her grew as her evident knowledge of the castle grew. They weaved through halls and maneuvered around guards until they came to a foyer holding a grand set of double doors at the other end. As they walked through them, they came to a man sitting in a grand throne.

"Oh, welcome. Have you come to give me your strength as well?" The man said with a grin as he stood up on his platform. He was rather tall and good looking at that. Everyman wanted to kill him already.

"Don't listen to anything he says. We need to finish him quickly before reinforcements arrive." A grey hue could already be seen forming around Everyman, giving him even more strength than before.

"Sounds good to me." He went charging at the man with all of his newfound strength. This was his moment. In one clean swoop he was going to eliminate this freak and become a hero. Everyone would know his name and adore him. He reared his sword back and struck with all his might. The man waved his hand and streak of purple light easily reflected his attack and threw him to the side. Everyman was shocked at how easily the man threw him to the side. His sword broke in half too. Waif had quickly prepared an attack, and a grey wall of force could be seen dispersing as it impacted with a purple barrier. Neither of their attacks proved to be very successful, but Everyman quickly got up and darted at the man again. He continued to easily parry all of Everyman's strikes though.

"Well this is rude, skipping introductions. Although I don't suppose we need to be introduced." He said as he looked over toward Waif. "Have you come to give me the rest of your power?" Everyman stopped his attack for a moment, trying to fill in the pieces of this puzzle.

"I want my power back Sorcerer."

"You know I prefer Overlord, and I'm afraid that's not going to happen. I'm afraid I'm going to need to keep these powers and gain more if I am going to enact my revenge on the King for rejecting me. The monsters should have pushed far enough to storm the castle by now. With this ability to absorb powers, I will make him regret removing me from his council."

"You know I need those powers to become queen of the witches. I'm not going to let you ruin my plans." Waif and Overlord were deadlocked with glares at each other.

"What on earth is going on?" Everyman was thoroughly lost and demanded an explanation.

With an almost annoyed look she glanced over to him. "I'm not your naive everygirl, I'm Waif Badass Nadeshiko and I'm going become queen."

"I am Sorcerer Overlord and I came across this ability to steal powers. I stole her ability to summon and control monsters and now I am going to enact my revenge. Why don't you just disappear now?" Overlord gave a wave of his hand a purple arc of power much greater than anything that had been displayed so far, flew towards Everyman. Overlord was certain in Everyman's demise, but something had changed about him.

"You both are morons!" He shouted as he plunged his broken sword through Overlord's back. The energy arc from earlier was merely deflected off of his shield. Overlord stood convulsing as purple energy could be seen coursing through the sword into Everyman. "I'm not your unlucky everydude either. I am Everyman Hero Smith and I am going to take your ability and power and put it to real use. You have a power unlike any other and you want something as petty as revenge. Well I'm going to fix everything. I'll be the hero everyone looks up too. I'm not just going to fight crime either. I'm going to become king, and not just of this kingdom, I'm going to rule every kingdom. I'm going to end wars and famine. Crime will be non-existent under my rule, and anyone who gets in my way can end up like you." Overlord fell dead to the ground with the sword still in his back. "I'm going to become the greatest man in history and everyone will remember my rule."

The grey hue had been removed from him altogether and was replaced by a purple one. "You don't know what you're doing. You can't even control that power." Waif created a grey whip-like force that emanated from her hands. With a quick flick, the force shot at Everyman. He quickly created a beam of energy that caught the force as it wrapped around it. He held it tight as Waif struggled to pull her whip back.

"Not yet, but I'll learn quickly. I'll also start my conquest with you. Really using a power like this to become the president of some social club is demeaning. You don't deserve this power. It would all go to waste in the hands of anyone but me." Waif wasn't able to free the force whip, instead she destroyed the force whip before enshrouding herself in a grey aura and creating two more in each hand.

"You know nothing about me. You're going to die and no one is ever going to know who you were, so bring it on." Everyman's blade grew longer and extended out both directions like a pole now.

Everyman quickly charged Waif as the buzzing sound of his energy and the humming sound of her force clashed to create thunderous cacophonies throughout the fortress. Orbs of energy and waves of force flew in every direction, either missing their mark or being deflected. The fortress began to take on heavy damage as the two continued to dart back and forth at each other at blinding speeds. Many walls crumbled due to loose blasts or one of their bodies being thrown through them. Their frustrations and hatred for each other grew wilder by the minute. Entire wings of the fortress looked like crumbled warzones from the aftermath of a grand scale battle. They both took heavy hits from the other as they continued to impale each other. All manner and shapes of purple energy and grey force were formed as they struggled for hours to end the other. Pure blind hatred filled them both as nothing else but the other's demise mattered. After several hours of intense fighting, their power began to dwindle. With the fortress left ruined in the wake of their destruction, they could be seen lying on the floor of a random bedroom that somehow managed to stay standing.

They lied head to head after collapsing from a simultaneous final strike from the other. Both nearly exhausted and struggling to even move, still managed to do their best to spite the other. Everyman continued to reach above his head and his long arm would punch her in the boob. Waif responded every time by reaching above her head and slapping him in the face. "I'm going to take your power. I'm going to... urk... put it to good use."

"You don't want to put my power to good use. You just... umph... want the world to see you. Like you said, you want everyone to know who you are and you're using this imperial rule to do that. Ow! Would you stop that?"

"Caw! Fine, how are you any better though?"

"Overlord was the moron. He had no patience and started too soon. That power was supposed to be mine and I wasn't just going to become queen. Once I became queen I would get access to more knowledge and power. I didn't just want to scare the kingdom. You saw how weak the monsters that attacked were. The kingdom probably drove them back. I wanted to cause chaos, and not just here in this kingdom or even this world. I wanted mayhem in all of them. No one would look down upon the queen when they were brought to their knees. If I had that power I wouldn't just be summoning vampires, I'd summon Dracula himself. Trolls compare to ants against the Ogdru Jahad. Beings like the Leviathan and Cthulhu bringing worlds to their knees, all under my control. That's what the power that... you stole to get your name known would bring me. All of the worlds... would be below... me."

Everyman had underestimated her. Her dream to bring the world to ruin didn't really sit well with him, but it was the villain he had been waiting to epically stop, but she never got the chance to start. She was right that his imperial rule would never create a nirvana. Most of the world would just see him as an evil overlord, even if they lived comfortably. Everyone wanted freedom and that came at a daily price. He noticed her words tailing off at the end. "Waif, are you... ok?"

"Huh, yeah,... I'm... fine." Waif's exhaustion had gotten the best of her, and she ended up passing out there on the floor.

"Yeah right... you're totally... out of it." Everyman's exhaustion did the same thing to him. Not but a few seconds later did he fall asleep, lying head to head with Waif.

The next day, Everyman did wake up significantly earlier than Waif. He was very sore from yesterday, but certainly felt much rejuvenation. His was strong enough to muster his ability and powers again. Seeing Waif still lying asleep on the ground, he got up and created another beam of energy. He held it centimeters above the center of her chest. With one easy plunge he could kill her and become the ruler of the world. Even if it wasn't a heroic thing to do, it was better than being the nobody he was. He couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason though. Was this everything he wanted? It wasn't him, and no matter how great it seemed, something told him it wasn't what he wanted. The beam's buzz ceased as it began to grow and bend, wrapping itself around her body. It continued to wrap around her body, until her arms were completely covered and pinned behind her back. The energy rope then shot down to her ankles and secured those together as well. It slid its way to a chandelier in the ceiling and began to hoist her upside down from her ankles. Her kimono slid up her body and barely left her decent where the rope was tied around her. Everyman released the energy rope to hold her there and sat at the foot of the bed in the room.

Barely a few minutes later, Waif began to wake up. She was confused when she saw an upside-down world through her blurry eyes. A few moments later her eyes adjusted, but she still saw everything upside-down. "What's going on?"

"I have you tied up. I need you to listen to something." Her senses were coming back to her more quickly. She realized she couldn't move as she felt the rope restricting her. She realized she was tied, hanging upside-down, before the one that she was trying to kill and was trying to kill her. A small twinge of embarrassment passed over her as she felt how far her robe had fallen as well. If he wanted to talk rather than kill her then she might as well listen. She wasn't really in any position to refuse him.

"Alright, I'm listening."

"What you said the other day was right, but I thought about what you said too. You don't care about chaos, you just don't want to be looked down on anymore. You have nothing planned for once you've brought the world to chaos and mayhem and you'll be filled with nothing once it has. I think I've thought of a middle ground. If you'll agree to this... then we're going to rule the underworld. I'll get to remove corruption and evil from the world by controlling it and you'll get to control it by being the corruption and evil of the world. We'll decide who gets to cause chaos and mayhem, and we'll destroy anyone that tries to hinder us. So, what do you say?"

Waif thought about it for a second and his offer did sound pretty appealing. He was probably right about bringing the world to ruin. There really wouldn't be any satisfaction in it. Once the worlds were brought to their knees, there would be no one else to crumble, but herself. "..."

"Ha, right, the way I see it, right now we're two of the most powerful people in the world. I'll go steal powers from the underworld and you'll become the witch's queen, and then we'll certainly be the two most powerful beings in existence."

"..."

"If you were wondering about how you would become the witch queen and how I would steal more powers, well I think last night pretty clearly displayed our true power is in our hatred. Therefore I think we should get married. How would you feel if I started calling you Waifu?"

"I would kill you."

"See! I can already feel your power rising." With that even Waif realized he was right. She strained against the rope again and blew it into dissipation. She quickly twisted and landed in a crouching position. She rose up to him and vigorously grabbed his crotch.

"Your offer is quite alluring. I suppose nobody really is perfect. Although, why would you say we should get married?"

He inhaled deeply and froze, barely managing to answer with a gasping voice. "How else would we be able to hate each other more?" A grin cracked across Waif's face as she tried to remain coy and let him go. He let out a hefty exhale as he caught his composure.

"Alright then Mr. Nobody, when do you plan on proposing to me?"

"Psh, I already told you we should get married while you were hanging upside-down. That should be good enough for you, Waifu." He turned his back on her and began walking out the room.

In an angry spout, Waif quickly created a force whip a lassoed his neck. As she jerked him back to her, he tried to catch himself but ended up sliding to her on his knees. "You know what? Why don't we try dating first? If we're going to hate each other, we should get the full experience. What do you think Nobody?"

Everyman gave a deep gulp. "Yeah. That sounds like a perfectly fine plan to me." Waif released the whip and walked out of the bedroom into the ruins. Everyman followed behind and stood next to her. The storm had cleared and the morning sun was just beginning to rise. The mountain peak they stood on gave a beautiful view of the kingdom and all its lands. "Wow! It's beautiful."

Waif leaned into him and he put his arm around her. "Are we ever allowed to love each other?"

"I think we'll have to if we're going to be able to reach the full capabilities of our hate. We'll just have to make sure we hate each other when we have someone to kill. We walk a fine line, my little Waifu."

"Somehow, I think we'll be fine, my big Nobody."

Their plan eventually did come to fruition. Everyman became King of the Underworld by amass an overwhelming amount of power and Waif went on to become the Witch Queen. They enlisted the help of Brute, Elite and Grunt as generals of the vast hordes that Waif summoned. After taking over the kingdom's underworld, they moved onto the world and eventually conquered multiple dimensions. They ruled together with an Iron Chaos, and lived hatefully ever after.

At least for a couple thousand years, until they came to love each other so much they could no longer hate each other. Then they were brutally overthrown and murdered, but that's life.

Shakespeare would be embarrassed

Shakespeare would be embarrassed

The curtain calls, and it calls for me. My name is Xera. As I bow with my left hand on my chest, and the other stretched out to my right, I must declare that it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am a doll of the entertainment variety. I go up onto a stage every night, because the overlords have a contract with my signature on it. You do not disregard your contract. Once I enjoyed it, thoroughly loved every aspect from the characters that I get to play to the clothes, the script, and the scenery. Now though, well, let's just say it's lost the charm it had.

"I know what I am doing," my younger partner scoffs, ignoring the director's instructions for the seventh time today. She's another doll. "I have it in my blood. I'm the talent here, for now, until the fools at the academy catches onto what a brilliant star you've captured. Then it's bye, bye!"

She is the main reason I can't stand it here any more. A twenty-year-old blonde, pretty, and full of herself. She may be what the audience wants, but the rest of us have to deal with her too.

"Fine, go ahead, do whatever you want!" the director exclaims, shocking both of us. "I have had it with your fancies, and your fickleness. If you think you can do it without me, then I'm not going to stop you, bitch."

He storms off, throwing the nearest door open, and slamming it behind himself. Good thing the audience can't hear anything that goes on beyond the confines of the stage, or a scandal might tarnish our reputation. The director is sensible enough that he will retreat to his room for the night, yet it leaves us without anyone to guide us through what we need to do.

"I guess that means there won't be any show tonight," she mutters to herself. "Unless an old veteran like you knows some scripts by heart, eh, Xera?"

"No, I do not," I lie. I know most of the scripts the director has written. I've written a couple myself, but they were never performed before. "I don't think you want to cancel the show either, if you want to keep your fans happy, Yolene"

"Ah, haha, yes. There is that. The poor saps won't make it through the day if they don't get to experience my talent," she slides her hand through her hair. "I shouldn't disappoint them, so what do we do?"

"I dunno."

"Hmm, how about I go up into the director's chair to control everything, while you play my main cast? I can show up at the end, dazzling them with my radiance, and my newfound talent in directing!"

"Um, no," I say, about ready to storm off like the director did. "I'm going to decline."

"Don't you have a contract to obey, just like me? If someone can put on a show, then you're obliged to be on stage. I'm saving us both here. What happens if we don't perform, hmm?" she asks, smiling at me, and touching my shoulder with the tips of three of her fingers. "Do it for me. I'm sure I can think of some reward."

"I'm not into women, or men." I take a step backwards, so she can't touch me.

"Me neither, yet here we are, and it sounds like you're turning down the star of the show."

She's going to be even worse after this, if I don't do as she wishes, isn't she? I have more to lose on walking away than I have on sticking around. It wouldn't be the first horrible show I've had to put on. I just hate playing multiple characters. There's little appeal for me when I'm going up against myself. Not that Yolene is much of a co-star, or opponent, and considering how in love with herself she should be the one playing multiple characters.

"So, what's it going to be, Xera?" Yolene asks, moving closer to me despite my withdrawal. "Are you going to run and hide like mister director?"

"...No." What am I saying? "No, I can do this favour for you. On the condition that you do one for me afterwards, which I don't have to reveal until we're finished."

"Hah, clever," she taps her index finger against her lower lip, as if she's pondering. I've seen her do it before. She's going to agree to my terms. "I accept. Now get your butt up on the stage, and wait for my signal."

I sigh, deeply, then stretch my arms and my legs. Yolene scampers off. If I know her, and unfortunately I do, it's going to take more effort than usual for me to be able to keep up with her directions. Does she even have a script prepared?

I walk towards the stage, and run up the small set of stairs. The deafening cheers that greet me seem odd. It was like that for me once, but it's been years since my stardom. I hold my hand out in front of me, and Yolene has already superimposed someone else's appearance on mine. She's fast.

My consciousness splits into halves, with one half remaining in the first character, and the other transferring into a second character entering the stage from the opposite side. It comes natural to me, albeit painful, but newcomers struggle with it.

The first character is a young girl with a ponytail, dressed in a pink outfit. She's got a medium backpack slung over her arm, and an innocent expression on her face. The second character is another young girl, except this one is unorthodox… She wears a leather jacket, with matching sunglasses, but why does she have a massive rifle strapped to her back? How is it believable that she can carry it without toppling under its weight?

As I control both of the girls, I walk them up to the front of the stage, and have them grab each other's hands. It's a strange sensation to grab what your mind recognizes as your own hand, even though it's attached to another body. The girls bow for their audience, before they all disappear when Yolene brings me into the scenario she's created.

My vision blurs, and my split mind collides with itself, going in and out. There's a vortex of strange colours and sounds, then it shapes into the two girls for the first scene. It's supposed to alleviate the strain on my brain, but it can be disorienting enough that experienced veterans like myself throw up. Our overlords should fix it, for everyone's sake.

The girls arrive at a crossroads in a forest, at night. Fireflies light up the path to their right, and a distant torch is on the path to the left among thorny branches. I get my instructions for each character, in a holographic prompter that pops up. Only I can see it in this instance of the play, and I don't like what I'm reading. I realize Yolene has had practically no time to prepare any of this, unless she's been practising script writing in secret, but the instructions suggests she's got close to no idea about how it's supposed to work. We're beginning in the middle of the story, for some inexplicable reason.

Sighing, I resign myself to my fate. I set my foot on the stage tonight, so I will displease my overlords if I do not perform. I might have gotten away with it after the director stormed off, but the audience is waiting for a show now.

"Oh no, what are we going to do, Anne? We can't get separated in a forest like this! It's already dark, and I'm… I'm…" I stammer, as the girl with the sunglasses and rifle, while her legs shake. "I didn't bring food for us if we get lost. How are we going to find Clara in here?"

"Tsk, don't sweat it, Beth. I've been in worse scenarios than this. Did I ever tell you about that time I took on an army by myself?" I say, as the girl with the ponytail, and she pats her pink backpack. "I've got everything we need right here."

"But… but… Clara," Beth stammers. "She's going to need all the help she can get. We should return to the city, gather everyone we can, so that we can save the last of the angels… I don't have what it takes to save someone."

"You've got a rifle right there, so how about you put it to some good use!" Anne says, putting her hands on her hips, and leaning forward. "Anyway, heh, let's get going. I take the left path, and you can skip through the forest among the fireflies. If you find her before me, just call for me to come save you!"

Anne heads down the path to the left, while I see both her point of view of the torch, and Beth watching her leave. When she's disappeared past the torch, Beth follows her, with quick steps against the dirt path.

The vortex of colours and sounds reappears, as I'm transported into the next scene. It's set after the girls have made it through the forest. They have arrived at a hanging bridge, suspended above a steep cliff. There's a looming dark castle on the other side of the bridge, and underneath it is the crater of an active volcano. The lava swirls, churning its black and red in a pot of fire. A huge moon behind the castle basks the area in its glow.

The two girls look worse for wear, like they've faced a trial that pushed them to their limits. Come on, Yolene, that scene should have been included in the play! Anne's bleeding from a superficial wound on her cheek, while Beth's got twigs in her clothes and hair.

"Damn that basilisk was not to pl-play with." Beth's voice cracks. "I… I-"

"I wish you'd helped me kill it," Anne sighs, scratching her head. "It messed up my ponytail, and the only mirror I brought with me, so now I can't fix it either."

"I could fix it for you," Beth says, twirling a lock of hair between her index finger and thumb. "I'm a bit of an expert on that. I used to do it for Clara whenever she'd let me, used to beg her for a chance to-"

"Yeah, yeah, you've got a crush on the girl we're trying to find, and apparently rescue." Anne says, as she put her hands on the ropes of the bridge, and begins to walk out onto it. "You don't have to tell me everything you've been doing with her, or even thinking about doing with her. We both know where that is going to lead. I feel awkward enough tagging along, but well, without me you'd never have your lover returned to you."

"She's…" Beth's expression is positively furious, as I glance at her through Anne's eyes. "She's not my girlfriend! I am not interested in her in that way! We're simply friends, who get along great. That's all. You're reading too much into all of this. She needs my help."

"You can't even help yourself, or you would have used that rifle to tear a hole straight to that basilisk." Anne scoffs. "At this point, I'm saving your girlfriend for you, and you're dead weight. Are you even going to step onto the bridge? You do know we have to cross it to get to the last of the angels, don't you? Maybe you need to grow up while we're out here. There's no such thing as angels."

Ànne continues along the bridge, while Beth fumes. I can feel the anger in her, and read them in the instructions that Yolene gave me. I have to act it out to the audience, so that they believe she's overcoming her fear because of rage. Slamming her hand onto the rope of the bridge, I grasp it so hard that it digs into her palm. Anne notices it, and turns around to shoot Beth a smile.

"I'm not a child, Anne. No more than you are anyway," Beth says, as she slams her other hand onto the other rope. "I can get through this, with or without you. Also, angels do exist. Clara told me she was an angel, and I…"

Beth stops in her tracks, at the beginning of the bridge, as a dark silhouette flies up from the castle, visible against its backdrop the moon. The silhouette begins to descend towards the two girls, like a boulder dropping out of the sky.

"You were silly and in love, so you took her word for it," Anne says, unaware of the approaching threat. "I guess that's cute, in its own way, but you can't be blind to the world, and to facts, because you happened to stumble upon someone who is adorable."

"Watch…" Beth stops herself from uttering her warning to Anne, so angry at her that she subjects her friend to unknown danger. She begins to retreat from the bridge.

"Were you going to tell me to watch myself, watch my tongue?" Anne taunts, sticking her tongue out at Beth. "Bleh, I told you to grow up, not rebel against those smarter than you. At least not me. Go rebel against-"

The silhouette lands on the bridge, shaking it violently, and I have to experience it in first person. Twice over. The vortex may have been bad, but it was nowhere near this level of vomit-inducing hell. Anne throws up, over the side of the bridge. Beth manages to keep her dinner down by putting a hand over her mouth.

Once the shaking subsides, it becomes clear that the silhouette is another young girl. It has to be the last of the angels, as she's got white wings sprouting from her back. Clara's clad in blue heavy armour, and she's raised the visor of her helmet so it doesn't cover her face. Her ice cold eyes pierces the soul. The last of the angels lifts a spear, points it at Anne, and, nothing happens.

New instructions appear for me, in Anne's dialogue. Yolene didn't think this through one bit, did she? She can't put words on a character's tongue, and expect them to be silent. I'd rather not ignore the script either, dawdle, or I might end up in trouble with the overlords.

"Wait," I whisper with Anne, so that it won't be too obvious to everyone what's going on. "I have to get down to the stage somehow, Xera. It's going to take a minute or two, so how about you stall the muppets in the audience."

Thanks, Yolene, you've got a way with words, unlike any. You're such a smooth operator. How can I repay you for placing me in a play with such an incompetent director? I should have been in her position right now, and she could have proven what a multi-talented actress she is.

"Oops!" Beth shouts, before bending over, removing her shoe, and throwing it into the lava below us. "Fuck, that's… You're doing this on purpose, Xera! You could have paused everything!"

Eh, maybe I could have. Maybe I didn't want to.

"I'm going to quit, if you do not shut up," I say with Anne, and sit her down in the middle of the bridge. "I shouldn't have to deal with this… Ugh! Fucking quit it!"

I laugh, inside my own head, where Yolene won't be able to tell that I'm doing it. I'm entertaining myself, like a puppet running away from its master, and flipping her off. It might reflect badly on both of us, or the audience might think it's all part of the show. It's all intentional, as far as I'm concerned. I'm playing a higher game here.

The next command that comes through the prompter makes me want to strangle her. It's telling me to split myself into three characters. I have never had to do that before. There's no chance it won't be a disaster. When I refuse the command, she submits it again, and again. We're stalling the play at this point, but I can't in good conscience do what she wants me to do.

Yolene, the doll pretending to be a director, flips a switch so the scene ends. I'm tossed into the swirling vortex of colours and sounds yet again. It's so tiresome. This wasn't necessary. How are we going to maintain any cohesiveness in the plot if she keeps behaving like a spoiled brat? Can't the director stop hiding in his room, and handle the mess she's causing before we all suffer the consequences?

"Get it together," Yolena whispers, a voice that surrounds me, echoing. "We can still end this on a high note, so don't screw it up for me. I'm going to make you take the blame as it is, but haha, it doesn't have to be any worse than it is!"

"What did I ever do to you?" I ask her.

"Pfft, you know what you did. We may have been on friendly terms once, and I may have acted blind to your dislike for me, but you've crossed the line. You chose this. We could have been friends, or more..."

"I'm not sorry," I say, and I would make an offensive gesture at her if I had a body in the vortex. "You brought this on yourself."

"You will be sorry when I'm done with you. I promise." she laughs, until it permeates everything, and invades my mind. This must be what it feels like to go insane. "Oh, whoops, you're still in purgatory…? My bad, my bad. Let me, eh… There you go!"

She forces my mind to split into three. I knew she could do that, but I hoped she didn't. As she pushes me into the minds of the three characters, I decide I'm not going to go down without a fight, like she wants me to. Yolene brought this upon herself, with her arrogance and her attitude. It could have been a night like any other. I would have been bored on stage, while the director pampered her with the best lines, and the best characters.

The girls haven't actually moved a muscle since Yolene brought me into the vortex. The last of the angels is still pointing a spear at Anne, who is sitting in the middle of the bridge, and Beth's missing a shoe. I'm participating in the same scene from three angles. Is it too much to ask for that Yolene reign in her disappointment with me? There's fear in my heart, as new instructions pop up in the holographic prompter. I probably don't need to answer my previous question for you, but yes, it was too much to ask.

"You should never have come here!" I roar, as the last of the angels, thrusting her spear forward, stopping it mere centimetres from Anne's face. "You are not welcome."

"What about me…?" Beth asks, rubbing her elbow. "Are you mad at me too? I thought..."

"Hey, point that stick at something else," Anne says, pushing it out of her face. "You might hurt someone if you're not careful. You might get hurt yourself if you keep pointing it at me. I've still got my bag, and I'm not scared by your masquerade costume. How much did the wings cost you?"

"Quiet, Anne," Beth warns her. "She might kill you."

"Oh noes, I'm so scared," I say with Anne, in the snarkiest of manners, even though the prompter implores me to sound frightened. Why would she? Should I break character to prop Yolene's ego up on a pedestal? "Please, please, spare me, and if you must kill me do it swiftly. Show mercy, angel!"

A new line of dialogue appears, jammed into the scene where it doesn't fit, straight from the inept director herself.

"Dear Xera, for a second there I almost felt sorry for you," I say, reading it out loud, with the last of the angels. "Now I'm going to kill each of the characters, slowly, and you can reap what you've sowed. I'm out. I imagine that was the bargain you made me agree to at the start of this charade. Xera, I might have looked up to you, and wanted to be in your presence, but if you don't want me around I'm…"

I stop reading the message she sent me out loud, as it's too personal. I am reading this on a stage, in front of an audience, not in private. Sure, as an entertainment doll I should know to give of myself for the play, but this is Yolene's feelings and thoughts. They're not mine.

I read the rest of the message.

But if you don't want me around I'm not going to force my existence upon you any more. I'm sorry I'm so annoying, and despicable that you hate me. You were my idol. Yes, they gave me an admiration for you. I don't know why. I'm going to hold onto it, even when everyone else thinks you're washed up, and due for retirement. Best wishes, Yolene.

The next commands she issues are death warrants for each of the characters, along with an improvisation order. I am no longer her puppet. I have free rein, and control over everything that is about to happen. The characters have been doomed to die. It's not so bad. It's my punishment, and it's going to be taxing on my psyche, yet she's given me a chance here that I haven't had in forever.

Retirement was never for me… No. I will turn it all around!

The volcano beneath the girls begin to rumble, and minor eruptions throw lava into the air. At first, none of the clumps get halfway to the bridge. I act out the girls' reaction to it. Beth hurries to get onto her feet, panicked, and worried about her friends further out on the bridge. The last of the angels spins her spear in a circle, before stretching it out behind her, and gesturing for Anne to come at her.

"This is nonsense!" Anne shouts, reaching into her backpack. "We hardly have time for a fight here and now. You've got wings for crying out loud! If you know how to fly, save us!"

Anne pulls a green ball out of her backpack, then a knife, then a live chicken, then a microphone, then a flail. She throws them over the side of the bridge, feeding them to the volcano. The chicken flaps its wing, yet gravity is stronger.

"You surrendered two weapons, you fool," the last of the angels says. "I'm not going to wait for you to get ready, traitor. Keep the next weapon, or you'll lose your heart."

"Angel, demon, freak in a costume, whatever," Anne rambles, reaching into her backpack again, and getting her entire arm up to the shoulder inside. It's not that big a backpack, and what she's doing shouldn't be possible. "You've got me confused with someone else. I understand you're not right in the head, with that getup, but…" I can feel a leathery grip, which has to belong to some weapon, so I withdraw it. "A freaking whip…?"

"Destiny has chosen for you! Spear against whip, reach against, uh, reach?" the last of the angels blinks, shaking her head. "We must battle now! For the hand of the fair maiden!"

"What!?" Beth exclaims, putting her feet on solid ground. "No, no, no! I like both of you, but… but Anne and I aren't in any romantic relationship! You can have me, Clara. I'm yours! We have to escape…"

"Heh, I called it. You two have the hots for each other," Anne laughs. "She's right though. We aren't romantic, so you can have her. It doesn't make any sense for us to fight on top of an erupting volcano."

"Frankly, I'm just going for epic at this point," Clara retorts. "We're going to be charred to a crisp in minutes. God has forsaken us…"

I admit, it's pretty hard to think of something in the heat of the moment. I have underestimated Yolene, the doll director. We do need a musical score, or a song, to accompany the scene though. It'll enhance the mood.

"Music…?" I ask with Beth, looking into the sky, and raising my arms. Did Yolene really leave already? "Anything?"

A song with a hard beat, drums, male vocals, bass and electric guitar echoes throughout the area. Due to legal reasons, I can't tell you, my dear audience, what song it is. Does it fit a fantasy setting? Uh, no, it doesn't. It seems my fellow doll chose it based on the lyrics. The singer wants to be lifted up, and carried away.

The volcano grows louder, spewing more and more magma into the air. It's getting closer to the bridge, but it's not there yet. It will be soon.

"Guess I better whip you into submission before we get barbecued," Anne says, lashing out with the whip at the angel who dodges it.

"Try harder!" the angel screams, leaps into the sky, and hovers there thanks to the strength of her wings.

"Honestly, I feel like I'm not old enough to use a whip. Maybe we can postpone this battle to the death until we're eighteen years old, or older. Fifty or something. I kind of want to live a full life."

"I'm eight-hundred years old," the angel says, striking a pose mid-air. "Been waiting to die for a long time, to pass on into heaven like my kin."

"You've got me at a clear disadvantage then. More to the point, why do we have to be a part of your death? Suicide is always an option! I don't want to go to heaven!"

"Suicide would have cursed me to hell, where you're going if you get killed by an angel, traitor," Clara says, flying in a circle around Anne.

"Heh, that's reassuring…" Anne says, lashing out at the angel once more. She forces her to evade, giving herself an opening to strike at. Another lash, and the whip connects with her wing. The angel retreats, so that neither of the two fighters can reach each other. "Come on, you louse!"

"I'm leaving," Beth says, with determination in her voice for once. "I trust that you two will stop acting like immature children, waging a meaningless battle that will kill everyone, or I might have to find a new friend and a new romantic interest."

"Good luck with that." Anne raises her hand in a disinterested wave, as she considers her options for how to fight a creature that can fly, in the middle of a volcano, when she's trapped on a bridge. "Ehehe, I got it!"

"Would it be honourable for me to switch my spear for a bow?"

"No!" Anne replies, beginning to swing the suspended bridge back and forth, gaining momentum. "I'll come to you!"

Soon the bridge is swinging in a wide arc, with enough speed that Anne can lash out at the angel, who is doing her best to dodge both the maniac on the bridge, the billowing smoke, and the increasingly large lava chunks which radiates a heat that turns her wings soot black.

The first person perspective I have of Beth is abruptly cut off. A pang of emotion and agony surges through me, like I was snuffed out. I don't know what exactly happened to her, as she's quite far away from the others. I would guess one of the lava chunks landed on her. The fact that they haven't hit Anne yet boggles the mind. Every time one of them seem to be about to, she miraculously swings the bridge out of the way.

"You're like a bug, which won't stay still so I can swat it!" Anne calls out to Clara.

The angel is struggling, somehow fighting a losing battle despite the obvious advantage inherent in her wings. She shuts her eyes, whispers some kind of prayer, and moves her hand in a cross over her chest.

Clara opens her eyes, radiating a pure white light, as she dives towards Anne with her spear extended. The second before the two clash, the volcano finally erupts in full force, spewing forth lava in a steady stream which engulfs the girls.

I'm torn from the setting, landing on the stage, panting, and sweating. My body is sore, and tired, as if I'd run a marathon. Who knows who won? I got caught up in the moment. I may have had fun, almost. It's like I've forgotten the feeling. As I lay on the stage, there's no applause, no cheering, or roars. I remember something more important, and flee from the failure of a play I've put on.

Yolene's in the director's booth, backstage, with a stony expression on her face that reveals no emotion. She's sitting in the red cushioned chair, in the middle of the room, with the wide control table in front of her.

"What do you want?" she asks, sliding her arms along the armrests. "We've both suffered humiliation to last us a decade. Don't need to interact with each other. It'll only bring the emotional trauma to new heights."

"I thought I was the dramatic one," I joke, stepping closer to her. "I haven't told you the terms of the favour I requested, but I did finish the play, despite the mess that I twisted it into."

"Ah, I've got some blame there," she sighs, running a hand across her forehead into her hair. "Takes two to fuck up on such a massive scale like this. One with no directing experience, and one with no interest in assisting the clown."

"You guessed right, by the way... I would have asked you to leave. However, I've changed my mind. This was the most fun I've had in years, since…" Since before Yolene joined the same theatre as me, but I don't give my voice to that thought. "It doesn't matter. I want to believe we got off on the wrong foot, and that we can learn to work together. I'll act the professional, if you do the same in turn. What do you say?"

She rises to her feet, gazes into my eyes, and whispers her sweet agreement. I grab her hand, then we turn to the wall. The director enters the room, and grabs my other hand. Everything in the control room begins to crackle, in a sort of digital corruption, distorting and shattering pixels. Then it disappears, and the actual audience appears. We bow to them, to their half-hearted applause, and their disbelief.

Yeah, I wrote a play into a play. It was supposed to be a celebration of the director, as he's retiring. I wanted to show our gratitude as actors towards the man who has given his entire life to the theatre, and actors like myself. I'm no writer. I'm certain he groaned more than once, yet he's got a grin on his face where he sits in the front row.

The investors are seated around him, and they don't seem as pleased. It's probably because I referred to them as our overlords several times. It wasn't nice, but I don't like them. They care only for the money, not the art, or the amount of hours that go into the smallest detail.

The technology of the average theatre may have come a long way, but I am human. I am no robotic doll, or machine. None of us are. We may be to our cherished overlords in the audience, but I refuse to be a name they can exchange with another because they are cheaper, or attract a larger audience.

In all of this, there's one thing I didn't write into the original script. Yolene's confession was improvised by my co-star. A young brunette, reminiscent of Beth, and the girl they assigned to me as a student. They thought I could be the mentor of a future star. I've shunned her, yet now, I regret that.

"You're great, Xera." She squeezes my hand, and beams such pure happiness at me. "I had full confidence in you."

You ever fall in love with a character, and want to see them succeed? I'm kind of reminded of that, as she squeezes my hand, and we bow for you. Our beloved audience.

Nika in Ten

Nika in Ten

When he first saw her, he thought she was a prostitute.

He had thought her weak and almost disgusting in her forwardness. Of course now the thought that prostitutes are weak makes him laugh and remember the sting in his jaw that remained for days after the actual blow.

His next thought about her was dangerous. Two minutes after they met, she had pinned him to the wall and kneed him in the groin. The next day, he got a clear look at just how many knives she could possibly fit on her person and still wear form-fitting clothes. Now, he stays far away from her if she's pissed.

His third thought was orphan. He remembered that day distinctly. They were in town (which one, he wasn't sure. They had visited so many…) when she suddenly veered off course and into a dark alleyway. Of course he followed her, complaining all the while. It was only when he got to the end of the alley that he realized what had caught her attention, and his harsh words died in his throat.

It was a small child, covered in fresh blood. It slowly seeped out of a large slash on the child's torso and abdomen, clearly a fatal wound. She was crouched down next to the child, one hand lightly holding on to a much smaller one, while the other hand gently traced letters and words into the air. That was the secret language of the street kids, a language that no one else ever knew.

Before that point, he'd had no idea that she had lived on the streets as a child. In fact, he hadn't known anything about her at all. She sat there and held that child's hand until they died, silently comforting them until their eyes closed and they took their last breath. Then she took a deep shuddering breath, closed her eyes, and slowly let go of the child's hand. It fell limply to the ground, and she left.

His fourth thought was vulnerable. This was also a memory that he would keep with him for a long time. They had been traveling together for several months now, and they finally trusted each other to watch each other's back, after a long period of distrust and wariness. They could relax now.

She had been acting strangely all day, so much so that he had noticed (a feat in and of itself). He was worried, but didn't say anything until they had stopped for lunch in a nearby town and she was so flushed and unsteady that she could barely hold the spoon to eat her soup with. That was the point where he gently ordered her up to their room (it had two beds, don't get any ideas) and helped her up with a hand at her elbow. The fact that she didn't complain about the order made him worry more, and the fact that she flinched at his touch for a moment made it even worse.

Her fever spiked an hour later and she began to thrash and writhe in her bed, startling him from where he sat in a nearby chair, watching over her. He reached over to try and soothe her, only to have her violently shrink away from his touch, pleas beginning to spill from her mouth. She begged him not to hurt her, swore that she would be good, whimpered that she would do whatever he said.

He couldn't breathe for a minute. He knew this trauma had to come from her childhood, it was too strong to be any more recent. Who could have done this to a child? Hurt them so much that they begged for the pain to stop? Even worse was the fact that she would have been a young girl then, and he had heard rumours of what sick men tried to do to young girls… He almost threw up.

Pushing those thoughts out of his head, he just focused on trying to help her, spooning potions into her mouth and placing cold cloths on her forehead. Finally the fever broke in the evening, and they both slept, exhausted, until noon the next day, when he awoke due to movement on the bed. He had fallen asleep half on the bed and half on the chair, and it was because of this position that he had awoken when she did. He opened his eyes slightly, and froze. She was crying.

He had never seen her cry. It was completely silent, small hitching breaths shaking her shoulders as tears slid down her face. She was gasping, desperately trying to control herself, but she couldn't. Unable to help himself, he slowly reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. At first she flinched away, but when he didn't move, she swayed and finally leaned into him, crying into his shoulder.

When she finally pulled away, her face was clear and there were no signs of her earlier tears. She was still a little weak from her short illness, but she was determined to leave and so they continued on their journey, never mentioning the incident again. But still, he didn't let himself forget.

His fifth thought was caring. This one was probably the most surprising to him. Vulnerable, he could understand. There were circumstances beyond her control there, and it could happen to anyone. But this… He almost couldn't believe it when he first saw it, but then he began to see it all the time.

The first time he realized that she loved animals more than people was when they came across a bunch of village idiots kicking around a cat. The animal was half-dead already, but still gamely tried to escape even though it was futile. She stopped dead in the middle of the street, just staring at them as they laughed and jeered at the poor animal. He really didn't like the look on her face.

It was good that he got out of the way, because the next second she was charging them, a naked blade in her hand. They scattered like bowling pins, screaming in fright. Some were lucky enough to escape her wrath, but others were not so lucky. Several stumbled away bleeding, while others fell where they had stood. He didn't feel sorry for them, they had pissed off the wrong girl.

Carefully nudging one bleeding, moaning body aside to clear his path, he walked over to her only to freeze. She was on her knees, cradling the small cat in her hands, crooning to it. Actually crooning.

That was something he hadn't thought her capable of. Her voice was soft and soothing, her hands gentle as she stroked the poor animal lightly, taking care to avoid any obvious wounds. Before he could even speak, she got up and turned to him, her eyes fierce even as her grip was light. Cowed by her gaze, he stepped aside before he even realized it, allowing her to leave with the cat.

She nursed it back to health over the next two weeks, feeding it fatty foods and tending to its wounds with single-minded care. No doubt by the time they left, the animal was in the best shape of its life. It seemed almost sad to see them go, but it stayed in the village, choosing not to follow.

When he looked back over their previous experiences in other towns, he realized that she had always drawn animals to her. In every town, he managed to catch her stroking at least one cat, petting a dog, murmuring to horses, or any animal imaginable. Why she did this, he didn't know or ask.

His sixth thought about her was cunning. He hadn't noticed before just how manipulative and sly she actually was. Despite being an assassin, she always seemed to favor a straightforward attack in the dead of night, with a little sneaking around, but that was all. Now though, he got to see her truly at work.

Their job was to get some information from a suspected traitor to the government (at this point they had their own doubts about the government but that was besides the point) and he was all for kidnapping the guy and torturing the information out of him, but she had a different idea. And boy what an idea.

None of her daggers were shown, but he knew they were still there, tucked out of sight under her clothes. She walked like she was royalty, like everyone needed to pay attention to her and obey her every wish. It was a side of her he had never seen before, and it fascinated him, just like it did everyone.

She engaged the target in conversation, and had him eating out of the palm of her hand in just half an hour. He was utterly entranced by her. It was almost scary to see. By the time it was evening, he was completely in love with her. He would have told her anything to make her happy, and he did.

She got all the information they had needed, and all without even raising a single hand in violence.

His seventh thought about her was seductive. After what he had noticed about her before, he had kept an eye on her, watching for any other reveals about her character that he hadn't noticed before. However, he wasn't as subtle about it as he thought he had been, since one day she confronted him.

He was in his room at the inn they were staying in for the night, for once they had gotten separate rooms since this town was known for its emphasis on purity and neither one of them were eager to pretend to be married. Thus, it was separate rooms for them tonight, and twice the cost in the morning.

She entered the room, and he knew it was her from the fact that the intruder was utterly silent, even down to the slide of the door on well oiled hinges. After a moment of silence, he felt her sit down on the bed next to him. He focused deliberately on the task in front of him, organizing his potions case.

Her hand landed on his, gently guiding it down until the potion in his hand was laid down safely on the desk, before a twist of her wrist had them holding hands. It was, perhaps, the most intimate they had ever been before, and he was suddenly aware of the fact that his heartbeat just tripled.

Softly she explained to him how she had noticed him looking at her, and he swallowed tightly. He was still determinedly not looking her in the eyes, but that was soon changed as her other hand rose to his chin and lifted his head until their gazes met. She asked him why, but he couldn't answer.

A wry smile twisted her lips, and his gaze fell to them almost before he noticed what he was looking at. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and he choked on a breath. Her hand, still in his, slowly drifted up his arm while the one on his chin fell down to rest on his chest. What was going on?

Her voice was low and husky when she told him that he would get more answers from her if he just came out and asked them then he would by watching her, and he was so lost in her that he couldn't even refute her statement. She rose smoothly to her feet and was out of the door before he even noticed.

The low laugh he heard from the hallway did nothing to douse the raging fire her touch had incited in him.

The eighth thought he had about her was trust. They needed extra help for their next mission, and he recommended someone from his past. He didn't really trust him, but their options were really limited. She gave him a sidelong glance, her eyes narrowed, but said nothing when they went to get him.

The plan the three of them eventually came up with was extremely risky, and they all needed to succeed or else all three of them would fail. He could tell that she was unhappy with the fact that she would have to rely on all three of them to do their parts, but she didn't say anything about it.

There were a couple of setbacks, but when the mission was over and they had all managed to get out safely, he knew that they had passed her test, both of them, whether or not they knew there had been a test or not. And from that moment on, their duo, which had worked so well, became a trio.

The ninth thought he had about her was stubborn. He knew that once she got an idea in her head she stuck with it, but he hadn't thought she would be this bad. Gods, it was honestly infuriating!

Both of them had explained to her several times just how the plan she had come up with was too dangerous for her, and they could help her, and so many other things, but she seemed deaf to it all. He just couldn't why she was being so obtuse, when he knew her to be a logical and rational woman.

Finally, she looked them both in the eyes, and stated that she would rather put herself in danger than either of them, and that pretty much ended the argument right then and there. What else could they say to that?

In return they fussed over her when she returned, both of their hearts beating faster in their chests as they waited for her to come back. When she did finally show up, bloodied and beaten, they knew that the mission hadn't worked out as well as they had hoped, but at least she came back to them.

And none of them mentioned the fear that was clear in all of their eyes, or the relief-filled way that they assured each other they were all safe and mostly unharmed. They all shared the bed that night.

His tenth thought about her was one he had never thought would apply to her of all people: hesitant. To be fair, she had never shown it in any area but this one, and in this he could understand the urge.

They had invited her to a party, hosted by a friend of theirs, but didn't honestly expect her to show up. She did, however, dressed in the most perfect thing he had ever seen. All black, fitted to her slim form, with small silver bells threaded into her hair. Long black boots went up her legs, the heels making her hips swing back and forth with every step. Small hints of her daggers were revealed with every step.

They both just watched her, unable to take their eyes off of her. She came over to them, and here he could see it. The way that she wavered, just for a moment, before moving towards them. That was the one sign that she was just as nervous as they were, the one hint of what this meant to her.

They spoke for a little while, and it got to the point where their third had to go off and relieve himself of the sexual tension building inside of them, that he realized this was going too far in public. Their third obviously had the same idea, as he pretended to be more drunk than he really was.

That prompted her to sigh and let him lean on her as she commanded him to lead her to the house their third was staying at. He obediently led the way, knowing that she needed to feel in control for the moment, or her nervousness might overwhelm her. He could feel it twisting in his own stomach.

Finally they got to the house, and he could barely remember how it started, but suddenly they were all kissing, all three of them, and none of them could stop it. Not that they wanted to, of course.

The next morning, some of the hesitance was back, but a gentle kiss was enough to push it away. There was no need of hesitance now. They had each other, and nothing was going to take that away.

Red River Retribution

Red River Retribution
​

A gasp of air reached out underneath blankets of mud and sand, sapphire eyes shuddering against puffy clouds of gray. Rays of sunlight broke through the smoky veil, God's distorted grace weaving through the natural cathedral of oak and pine. An insufferable amount of weight bore down at the "grime girl", her rasp cry of pain drowned out in the chirping of robins and the cawing of buzzards. Lifting her head, the muck fell from her pale skin, frolics of ebony hair nearly indistinguishable from the filth. Hands, desperate and shaky, pulled her up and forward, the petite girl reeling herself out of her own grave, reborn among salt and smoke.

"Well, if it ain't lil' Miss Eliza. How ye holdin' up, girl? Rest of the Hudson treating you good?"

Eliza crawled on all fours, the strength in her body returning measurably. Her world spun around and around, yet before her she could see the waters of the Red River. Teeth crunched together, a hiss of determined frustration escaping her lips, driving her ahead to the sacred water. A perforating stench of something diseased and wicked hit her nose, the work of the Devil flowing like a miasma. With a deep breath, Eliza dove her head forward, plunging it into the summer waters of the great, winding river.

"Well, Felix threaten to gut me if he caught me wearing this fur coat again and not dressing like a proper lady. He is scaring me as of late, Grenadier."

In an instant, she reeled back, baptized and awake. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, Eliza gulping unsteadily, that horrid stench of still hitting her nose. Pulling her legs up, climbing out of the Red River, the lone "trapper" flinched, a wall of eerie mist greeting her lost gaze.

"Hey now, don't give the Frenchie too much problem child. He just isn't used to you being a part of us for the time being. After all, a little girl like you should be in a warm home out by the coast, Eliza, not with men like us. I know we found you...well, not in the greatest of times, but ya know how it is. Redskins have gotten a lot more violent as o' late. Wouldn't want to see yourself without a scalp now. And please, just call me Daniel girl. I've known you for three months now, don't need to keep remindin' me of the war I fought."

Whispers of phantoms danced in her head, each timid step into the unknown causing young Eliza to cover her mouth with her hands. All around she could see them- their bare, mutilated bodies almost unrecognizable, but the names rolling in her head. Butcher Nathan lay broken underneath a dead horse, a musket clung in his now cold hands. Courier Felix lay alone in the burnt storage shack, all the beaver furs stolen, the sabre from his grandfather whisked out of his hands. Eli laid burning still on the campfire, Andre missed a leg, Jeremy barely had a neck, and by the time Eliza could comprehend the rest of them, she swore she saw faces of men that didn't look familiar in the slightest. After awhile, all she could see was red, and before the preteen knew it, she keeled over, emptying her stomach on a small part of wilderness that she and many others of the Hudson Bay Company called home.

"But you know it, Daniel, the Hudson found me months ago. Now I know you don't like me bein' here, but you know well that I don't got a choice in the matter and I dun proved my worth here. Hell none of you ol' men doesn't know how to cook a rabbit for godsake, yet you can fight and skin bears? It isn't fair."

Isolation and dread coursed through the child's heart, frantically looking left and right, the preteen sniffling and convulsing. For a second time, she escaped the parade of Death, first her village by the Sioux, and now, the Hudson. Looking over at the bodies once more, she saw one face missing from the thirty- a face she knew far too well for two months. Staring down briefly, she brushed her hand against the muddy outline of a boot, raising her head to follow the fading path. Hope, however faint and futile, blossomed, Eliza staring over at the titans of oak that loomed ahead as harbingers of truth. Stumbling over herself, taking one step after the other, the French trembled, wandering into the woods, following the footsteps of a grenadier.

"I…I know Eliza."

She trudged through the woods, one step after the other, seeing the footprints grow more distinct, pearly bits of white snow beginning to fall, an unusually cold day in summer. The snow wouldn't stick- Eliza knew it wasn't cold enough. But, the white pearls descending from the grey mist above left an uneasy feeling in her bosom.

"Look, I'll tell you what, I thought 'bout going back Ol' England to see my niece."

Up and down she voyaged through the green and brown sea, past creaks, under fallen giants of lumber, following the steps of a regimented soldier marching away. A soft smile crept on her face, a sad remembrance of how the grenadier had saved her from being the amusement of the Sioux.

"After fightin' the Yankees at Queenston, I lost my wife and sons to the Shivers."

The sun above her begun to shine fully, peering through the falling leaves, Eliza pushing through rows and rows of bushes, arriving onto a clearing within the heart of the woodlands. Her smile of yore instantly faded.

"She is the only person I got left in the family, and they say she can't make a child."

Fabrics of red and white lay before her, stiff and nearly untouched. Propped up against the tree, she saw the old grenadier in harmony. She couldn't tell if blood was on the redcoat or not, all she could see is the eerily uneasy face of an old man smiling in his eternal slumber, his old "Baker Rattler" resting in his arms like a babe, the bayoneted rifle having seen years of service. Yet, just like its master, it now rested, sound and quiet, not even the chirping of birds or the cawing of buzzards in the air. Approaching the elder slowly, Eliza calmly sat down to her knees, reaching over to brush her hand against the cold, whisky cheek. No tears fell, no sorrow expressed, only the unbearable sound of silence- the sound of the last trapper, not a grizzly man, but a lone frontier girl.

"So, and I know this all so fast for you, but how would you feel like living with her? I'll be there, you'll be living like a proper girl. It'll be a new start for you. I promise you, Eliza, I promise to help you in some way when this is all set and done. Just think on it, okay? Now, c'mon on, lets go get some water by the river."

"You are a liar, Daniel."

The last trapper rested her head on the chest of the dead elder, one hand on his Baker Rattler, the other balled into a fist, the dream of York forever dashed. In the faint distance, she heard the splashing of water and the cackling of men.

Her work wasn't done yet, not while she was still breathing.

---
​

"Yeyeye, c'mon, red-blood! Watcha ya afraid of K'Patchew? Cold water gonna make yer devil skin crawl? Savages like you should be used to it, am I right boys?!"

Drunk and intoxicated were those of the American Fur Company, riled on up whiskey and hubris. Today had been a very, very good day of scavenging, having had a wonderful run-in with the Hudson Bay Company. The two companies had brewed an uneasy competition to one another, competing for the beavers and deer that were beginning to retreat further and further away. Such fierce competition, fueled by disgruntled feelings from a war not long ago, set the stage for the dance of violence.

Emerging from the Red River, a bearded, young man stood, at six feet with ginger hair all around, his family hailing from southern Ireland. With a sabre strapped to his waist, the self-proclaimed captain unsheathed a sword that did not belong to him by title, but by sheer brute force. The degenerate, no better than the common bandit, laughed heartily with the five other men in the deep river, gazing around his compatriots, the reminder of his band reduced to only eight counting causalities and desertion.

"N-Now 'ere me boys! I want ye' all to know how damn proud I am all of ye!" he started, waving about the sabre, smashing it against the water, drunk both in body and in mind. "Those fockin' Sassenaches deserved it, the Crown been puttin' you and me down for a loong, looong time! I don't want any of you, nor you Redskin, feelin' sorry for w-what we did! The furs is what matters, and if that means I kill me some Frenchies and Crownies then by Saint Mary I w-!"

A dash of smoke exploded behind the red-faced, red-haired murderer from across the Red River, the whiz of a lead ball soaring into the air, crashing into the back of his bare chest. Like a right hand of karmic justice, the sword and man fell into the river, two Yankees flailing to catch their captain as he drifted away. The rest of the brigands stared in horror across the river, seeing in the treeline a musket poking from the bushes. Unarmed and away from encampment, they struggled and flailed to get out of the river, tripping over the stones. One man, in all of his panic, fell completely, whisked away by the currents of the mighty river.

Another shot rang out, hitting a man in his stomach, keeling over onto sharp rocks and sand, holding his crimson by the Red River. The Sioux, a native elder having seen this display time and time again, tighten his expression, dusting his hands off and strapping to his eerily calm horse. Without so much a glance away, he rode off mysteriously, as if freed from some invisible contract. From the treeline, two Mountain Men rushed from their encampment, carrying with them a bundle of muskets alike, throwing them to remaining two fur-bandits.

"Where those shots at, Gerald?"

"I don't fockin' know Henry, shoot at dem' bushes over there I see a musket pokin' through em'!"

The Yankees haphazardly loaded their shoddy muskets, drunk and faltering, only the adrenaline in their bodies keeping them coherent. Unloading fire into the bushes across the river, the musket in the bushes afar didn't flinch in the slightest, however another shot rang out directly left of it, moreso near the trees. Accurate and precise, clearly a rifle rather than a musket, it soared across the Red River, striking one Yankee in the chest, dead before he even knew what his last thoughts were.

"U-Ugh, f-fuck this, fuck t-this! Lets git outta 'ere boys, we need to get back to Fort Kiowa! I ain't dying in these woods!"

The few Yankees that remained, terrified and worn, retreated back on their side of the river. Among all the shouts and screams, the cries and the groans, an uneasy silence of nature fell onto the world, the birds and buzzards alike still and awaiting for men to stop their dance.
​

---
​

"Uh...ah...a...h..."

Her shoulders ached, thanking her father silently for teaching her how to fire a gun back on the frontier. For her fourth or so time around, Eliza did well, and if she more resources to her she would continue to do it. The Hudson was her home, and unlike the Sioux, she sought to see that home had its fair share of justice. However, such pursuit of retribution comes at the most deadliest of prices, as evidence by her bleeding right thigh. Stumbling through the woods, using the Baker Rattler as a crutch, the petite teenager approached the coastline of the Red River.

Unable to hold herself anymore, Eliza fell on her back, the cushion of that fur coat Daniel made her stopping the feeling of sharp rocks digging into her back. Panting and wheezing, the young teenager groaned and twitched, her hands balling into fists, eyes of blue fluttering against darkening skies.

"I-I w-wanna go to York..."

She rasped once again, feeling the waters of the river grow closer to her, blood flowing freely from her thigh.

"I-I...wanna...g-go to..."

A weight bore at her, pulling her onto her feet, seeing what looked like the face of Daniel hovering over her, yet his skin having a tinge of red. Feeling the hide of a horse, the last trapper began to slip in-and-out of consciousness her world a fading blur.

"I...w-wanna...go..."

Eliza fell unconscious, and in her dreams of solace, the young lady dreamed of York.​

The First Mission

The First Mission
The Adventurers of Jellya Krren
Young, Bold & Reckless In Space​

A certain solar system near Sol, orbit of Nssry, "Deryu" Orbital Complex, Galactic Peacekeeper Branch HQ, Personal Quarters
I was walking towards the mess hall when my comm device notified me that someone was calling me. I answered the call and could immediately recognize the voice of my boss's assistant AI: "Cadet Officer Krren, please report to Major Dyyr inside one galactic cycle." "Looks like lunch will have to wait," I thought to myself and changed my direction towards my commander's office. I was there roughly half a cycle later that I reached the entrance to Major's office and was greeted by the nanographic representation of Major's assistant AI. The cloud of nanobots that made up this representation was currently simulating the appearance of a young female Jaddean. I returned the greeting and entered the doors. Majot Jyyd Dyyr was an old, battle-scared Jaddean and a veteran of the Jaddea-Kudis War. Just like all Jaddeans he had their distinctive cat-like features – the ears, eyes, tail and fur, trough their coloration was not something you could naturally see on a cat – the fur was red with green spots while the eyes were somewhere between teal and lime.
The Major spoke up as soon as the doors closed while at the same time turning on the nanoprojector in the room: "You are here Cadet Officer Jellya Krren. Let me give you a quick briefing." As he went on talking the nanographics started showing telemetry from an automated drone: "Three spins ago a routine scouting of Ynnes, or Earth how do the locals call it, found out a that a heavily-damaged Hudde battle group was in the process of invading the planet, which we believe started roughly four spins ago. Unfortunately I and the Peacekeepers are extremely short-handed in this region of space – all active agents are busy with other operations. I got approval from central HQ so I am promoting you to Private Second Class and temporally granting you the rank of Field Agent. You are to take one of the Protector suits and a Guardian craft and deal with the Hudde. Try solving it peacefully, but you are authorized to use lethal force if they engage you or refuse to comply. Any question?" I responded: "No sir! Private Krren will now prepare to move out!" "Good, be ready to move out inside half a tick," the Major finished, but as I left the room, added: "And good luck Private." The doors closed behind me and I rushed to get to the hangar bay…

… after finishing giving the instructions to the mechanics on how to prepare the Protector and Guardian that I have been granted usage for this mission I took my time eating a nice meal and packing up some reserve clothing and some other things I might need. After making a stop in the armory to get an Uddre laser pistol for myself I returned to the hangar where the Protector suit was waiting next to the Guardian starcraft. I wasted no time and entered the Protector suit. Designed by several corporations with the help of leading military experts from all over the galaxy the Protector suit was a marble of engineering. Powered from a remote power source via wireless energy transmission or by its on-board miniaturized antimatter-matter power plant, it could easily equip up to four heavier and ten smaller weapons while also producing shields that rivaled the power of most starcraft shields. Additional protection came from the smart nanoarmor that covered it and which could quickly adapt to resists attacks from almost all know weapons carried by infantry and land vehicles. The Guardian starcraft was also a fine piece of craftsmanship. Created in a similar way as the Protector suit it was several times more powerful then an ordinary starcraft and able to take on almost any smaller spaceships of recent build. After the suit closed its on-board AI greeted me: "Welcome Private Krren. This suit operating a full efficiency and is ready for combat." I didn't waste time in responding and quickly moved to enter the Guardian's cockpit. After doing the standard check on both the suit and the craft I risen the craft from the hangar's floor, as its doors opened. I flew out of the station and followed the navigational instructions for leaving the orbital space of Nssry…

Roughly two thirds of a spin later, near Neptune's orbit.
After entering the system I was making good progress and when I neared the orbit of the furthest planet of this system, a deep-blue gas giant, my sensors picked up the Hudde ships hurdled around the only moon of Ynnes. It made me wonder why they weren't conducting orbital bombardment of the planet so I bought up the information about Ynnes that we had. And just looking at their technological level was enough to give me the reason – the locals, which called themselves "Humans" and looked similar to my own race, the Atuye, possessed thermonuclear weapons. If they had enough of those they would be able to inflict serious losses to a Hudde fleet, since the Hudde had only rudimentary shield technology. Well I guess I will have to deal with the Hudde ships first and then see the situation on the ground...

A bit later, roughly half an AU from Earth.
They finally noticed my Protector and started to deploy into battle formation against me. Well to bad that will not work since my craft heavily outclasses any Hudde warship. I was the first to gain firing solutions on the Hudde, but waited, sending messages to them to stand down and prepare to be taken into custody. They didn't respond and since they starred firing at me once I was in their range I returned fire, spraying high-energy lasers and bolts of super-accelerated, super-heated plasma on them.
As one of the last ships went up in flames suddenly a bolt of highly energetic plasma hit the craft, penetrating the shields and tearing a hole in my main power node. A quick glance on the sensors revealed a Leddus destroyer that remained hidden on the moon until now. Now that was something that outclassed my craft, especially after I lost a third of the craft's power management systems. I quickly turned engines and shields to maximum, turned on jamming, started sending a distress signal, set the AI to electronic warfare and deployed several active and passive decoys as I accelerated to max speed while changing my course towards the planet.
Scanning the situation on the surface as I rushed towards it, it was revealed that the locals were putting up one hell of a fight against the Hudde, despite the initial Hudde orbital bombardment destroying or damaging a fair amount of their military assets and key infrastructure. I identified key Hudde field HQs and forward facilities as I lowered my orbit and launched plasma bolts on them, scorching them to nothing. Finally I imputed instructions for the craft to go into the planet's largest ocean while keeping silent, while I prepared to jump out over one of the planet's landmasses. As the craft descended towards the Pacific Ocean I opened the cockpit and rolled out, allowing gravity to plummet me towards the ground while the Guardian closed the cockpit and flew on.

Lest then a cycle later I could see a city in flames with occasional flashes as the Hudde and locals exchanged fire with each other. Adjusting my descent I landed on a Hudde landcrawler, turning it into old scrap and gaining the attention of every Hudde in the area. Without wasting any time my suit locked on the Hudde and started spewing fire with the shoulder and leg mounted lasers while I used my arm-mounted guns to mow down Hudde vehicles. After dealing with most of the Hudde in this area I moved on, slowly attacking Hudde frontlines until they started retreating.
With that done I moved towards one the human landcrawlers, which at a glance looked impressive and with a scan was confirmed to be an engineering masterpiece of their technology. I ordered the suit to "roll" back my "helmet" while keeping an eye on the locals. I sat down next to a destroyed Hudde landcrawler and said nothing until one of the locals gathered courage and asked: "Um, who are you? Are you an alien invader to?" I answered: "I am Private Second Class Jellya Krren, Galactic Peacekeepers. Here to deal with the Hudde, or how you said alien invaders. And I am an alien if you must ask." At that he stood there baffled. Another soldier asked: "So miss Karen? Kreen? Peacekeeper? How do you plan to do that?" I answered: "Well, not sure. I was engaged by an unpredicted enemy after I destroyed most of the Hudde spaceships. My craft took damage and will probably need time to repair. I sent out a message but who knows if it will reach anyone and then it is not sure that help will be sent. I guess that making their land assault fail would work for now, but that will take a bit of time. I guess I might even celebrate my thirteenth standard here." Some of the soldiers gave me a weird look, but I didn't care and said: "Well rest is over, time to get back to work."

Just as I said those words something rained down from the sky, landing in the area around my current position, causing the ground to shake. There was only one thing that did that and those were drop pods with troops. "Leddus special forces damn it," I squeezed trough my mouth as I "rolled" my "helmet" back over my head. "Get the hell out of here humans, those are foes that you can't hope to match just with tactics and tendency" I said to the forces of the locals as my sensors showed several enemies converging on my position. After a quick discussion the humans pulled out just a moment before the first suit-clad Ledd opened fire on me. I ducked behind a destroyed landcrawler, knowing well how Leddus SF operated. I aimed at one part of the sky and like expected a Ledd popped up there only to be blasted to oblivion with plasma. I moved on, just in time to evade the barrage of missiles hitting my previous cover. I run into a building, using the walls and columns to evade fire while taking snapshots at the Leddus soldiers, but since I didn't manage to get a clear shot at any of them I still had to face all fifteen of them. Then one of the Leddus was hit with a human anti-crawler missile and when he turned to return fire I took the opportunity to turn him into molten Ledd. Then next one fell to a booby trap I set using an antimatter grenade. After that I had to jump from this building to the next one, a moment befre a massive blast of plasma from space struck the one in which I was. It was close, but I knew that the humans would not waste the chance and my long-range sensor confirmed the launch of several rockets full of termnuclear warheads towards the Leddus destroyer. Not enough to destroy it, but it will probably make it retreat to a safe distance.
The humans were the one to take down the next Ledd using a barrage of missiles from a VTOL rotorcraft to bring it down to the ground and then using demolition charges to collapse two buildings on him, burying the Ledd alive. The next two were taken down by me when they descended to help the buried Ledd. Now there was only ten left and I could risk a bit more. The next one fell in a gunfight with me, trough he managed to take out a fair amount of strength out of my shield. The one after him was surprised with a shot trough the window that came after I broke trough a thick wall. Three were taken down when a tactical nuclear missile hit them, with two more sustaining damage from the blast and retreating. That left three more.
I took care of two more in tense gunfights, emptying my shields and having to face one last one. Finally I managed to get him in my sights when a massive explosion hit the city. A massive blast wave lifted me of the ground and as the suit did its best to prevent the acceleration from killing me I lost consciousnesses…

Unknown time later, somewhere
… I was woken by a splash of cold liquid. As my senses returned to normal I started to hear voices and focus my vision. Finally my hearing could make out words.
"Is she awake?" "Not completely lord." "Why is she taking so long?" "She barely survived a blast wave from an antimatter explosion lord. It is amazing that she is basically uninjured at all."
Finally with those few last words I completely regained vision. What I could see was a command bridge of a Leddus destroyer, albeit dressed up all gaudy and grandiose like some medieval palace. I myself was kneeing, hands bound by cuffs, some two meters from the captain's seat, trough it looked more like a throne then a seat. The seat was occupied by probably the fattest and ugliest creature I ever saw, trough it quickly came to me that I was looking at an Yrudian. Vile and evil, the Yrudians were once rulers of the galaxy but after the Great Galactic Rebellion disappeared back into the Magellanic Clouds. The Yrudian spoke: "Glad to have you on my ship Private Krren. I am surprised to see someone as young as you as an agent in the Peacekeepers. Only twelve and half standards old, the Peacekeepers must be really short on personnel. Well I hope you will enjoy your stay. We will have many days of fun together. I really need to properly reward you for screwing up my plans with that little planet. But I guess we will have time to talk about that later." "Over my dead body slime," I said back at which it risen on of its tentacle-like limbs and struck me with it, lunging me to the floor, which I hit with my side and said: "I control your life girl so you better show me respect or I will end it." "I will show you respect when you stop being a evil, slime-covered bastard. Also kill me all I care. You will have the whole Peacekeepers after your ass if you do," I responded. At which he slammed me with the limb again while responding: "I doubt anyone will be coming after you since we are almost ready to turn that planet and everything on it, including every last piece of evidence you being on it to nothing." "You monster," I said at that as he shouted: "Start charging the micro black hole generator!" But before a response could come the sensor officer said: "Lord! A Taklad frigate squadron has just jumped next to the fourth planet. They are coming here." "Damn them, how long we have," the Yrudian asked. Using the distraction I quickly confirmed that they didn't find my Uddre laser pistol which turned into a thin sheet of harmless-looking nanobots. As the sensor officer responded: "Two cycles at worst sir. And we need at least three to get the generator charged lord." I already made the gun appear in a position to shoot at the cuff's energy unit. I ordered the gun to fire as the Yrudian ordered: "Start charging, the remaining Hudde ships will simply have to buy for time." With a short laser burst the cuffs were rendered useless and I wasted no time to grab the laser pistol, aim it at the Yrudian's head and fire out while shouting: "Die!" As a laser beam cut a hole into his head I wasted no time to move it around and cut away a decent part of it as he screamed in agony. As the rest of the crew took to their arms I was already running while overcharging the pistol. As the first shots fired at me I run out of the bridge, tossing the pistol, taking a laser hit to the shoulder and then closed the door.
Not waiting to see if anyone on the bridge survived the explosion of the overcharged laser pistol I run on, soon catching a Ledd of guard, which allowed me to knock him out, take his plasma pistol and put a bolt of plasma into his skull. I moved on, trying to reach the hangar when the shouting voice of the Yrudian could be heard trough the ship: "The Peacekeeper bitch has escaped! Find her and bring her to me! ALIVE!" I wondered how tough was that thing to survive a part of its head being cut off with a laser and then an explosion of a overcharged laser person, while I run onward, having to put plasma bolts into several crew members, which was annoying, but increased the amount of firepower I had.
I had no way of telling how long did this running around last, but it was definitely enough time for the Taklad frigates to reach the ship and destroy the few last Hudde ships. As the ship took hits I knew they had no way of knowing I am on-board and could only enter the nearest life pod and hope for the best. Finally the Leddus destroyer was done for and started to break apart under Taklad fire. Then for some reason the destroyer fired its, by now, malfunctioning FTL drive. Usually such thing would mean death so I closed my eyes for what I thought I was the last time. But as the FTL was about to activate I could feel that familiar feeling of being teleported and thus I opened my eyes once again, standing in the teleportation room of the lead Taklad frigate. I stepped off the teleportation pad and allowed my conciseness to disappear so I could get a well-deserved rest. And thus I finished my first mission and first visit to Earth.

Terms
Timekeeping
Cycle – roughly equal to ten minutes, based on the common cycle time of an antimatter-matter plant
Spin – roughly equal to 30 Earth hours, based on the standard spin time of orbital rings
Tick – roughly equal to 2 Earth hours, based on the time needed for each tick of the Memorial Clock of the Great Galactic Revolution
Standard - roughly equal to 10 Earth months, based on the standard year of the planet where the Galactic Council (and the central Peacekeeper HQ) resides
Races
Jadde – Humanoid creatures with cat-like traits (ears, eyes, tail and fur). Males are usually slightly taller then females with the average height being 180cm (~6 feet)
Hudde – A race of fast-reproducing humanoid insect from a tropical planet. Commonly employed as mercenaries trough out the galaxy. Height ranges depending on planet of origin, but originally their average height is 176cm (~5 feet, 10 inches).
Atuye – Human-like humanoids. The main difference is the "extra hair" that grows on the chests of males and at chest-height of the back of the females. Their hair color is also usually in the white-yellow-red specter with eye color being in the amber-red-brown range.
Ledd – Reptilian humanoids. Like war and violence so they are commonly seen as mercenaries, pirates and so on. Average 160cm in height (~5 feet, 4 inches)
Takl – Humanoids with cow-like features. The aggressive, violent males and calm, relaxed females counterbalance each other allowing the country to be a powerful force in all fields and one of the key contributors to the Galactic Peacekeepers. Females are usually 50cm (~20 inches) shorter then the males which average at 213cm (~7 feet, 1 inch)
Yrudian - Yrudians take many forms and have extremely varied sizes and shapes, trough they are share two main features - multiple tentacle-like limbs and being covered with a protective slime. For many millennia the Yrudians ruled the galaxy with an iron first until they were removed from power in the Great Galactic Revolution and retreated to their home land in the Magellanic Clouds. They haven't appeared for almost two millennia until the First Ynnes/Earth Incident.
Other
Nanographic – A 3D graphical representation made using nanobots
Nanoprojector – A device which stores and controls nanobots which are used for creating Nanographics
Uddre ANM I laser pistol – Know also only as a Uddre, a revolutionary laser pistol from Uddre Nanoweapons, which is 100% made out of nanomaterial allowing it to turn into seemingly harmless things like clothing. It even fools all but the most advanced nanobot examining devices, thus being a favorite of undercover agents. But it is expensive so it is hardly available to criminals or regular citizens
Guardian MkI A – The next-generation battle suit of the Peacekeepers, several times more powerful (and expensive) then any other suit in standardized use by any organization
Protector MkI A – The next-generation spacecraft of the Peacekeepers, able to tackle pretty much anything smaller then a destroyer on its own and in a one on one fight
Landcrawler/Crawler – A term for any tracked land vehicle, trough primary used for military tracked vehicles like tanks and APCs
Micro Black Hole Generator – An anti-planetary weapon of mass destruction and number one banned weapon by the Peacekeepers. Works by creating a black hole of small size, just enough to destroy the targeted planet/moon, using the vast amounts of energy that spaceships generate with that antimatter-matter power plants.

Of course the Major later chewed me out for losing the suit. Figures.

A Date with a Time Traveler

A Date with a Time Traveler

Fitted for the Naive Everygirl trope.

Before we start off this little story, I feel the need to drop a small bombshell on you so that it'll make just a bit more sense. Ready? Okay. Here we go.

I'm a time traveler.

Well, I suppose more specifically, I'm a "time messenger." People these days urge a real difference between the two for some reason.

If you want to get down and dirty, a time messenger like me is someone who... well, travels through time (usually to the past) to deliver something. Could be anything, really. Just as long as it's legal. And doesn't end up screwing up the timeline too much. We got things to check for that. I mean, I could bore you with the even finer details of it, like what constitutes as "legal" when the usage of time travel technology is involved, how the process works, how and why the business became as lucrative as it did, when and who invented time travel, and other stuff like that, but... that's on a need-to-know basis. And you don't really need to know, do you?

All that you really need to know is that indeed, I'm a time messenger, and... I suppose you could say I was on a job. I had an obligation to fulfill, rather, so I traveled to thirteen years into the past. The past of 2144 A.D.

And there, I met a woman whom I absolutely needed to meet.

- - -

The outdoor markets were as bustling and hectic as ever.

It was an assault to all the senses. The ears were met with all sorts of sounds, from idle conversations from the fellow customers to the beckoning calls of the vendors. The nose was greeted by all sorts of fragrances, from tantalizing perfumes to all sorts of varied foods, fresh or not. And of course, the eyes were met by all sorts of sights, from the people of all sorts of different skin tones, clothing, and what have you, to the many items being sold.

In short, hardly a dull moment to be found in this busy market. After all, it was the middle of the afternoon.

And in the midst of the tireless crowd walked a young woman. Though she had a youthful look to her face, complemented by almost naturally wide eyes and a thin complexion, she was actually a bit older than what many would assume. The big three-o. She had recently hit 30 years old, and yet her youthful appearance, as well as her choice of clothing (a somewhat loose-fitting, long-sleeved white button-up shirt and a frilled black skirt), would have people around to still believe her to be a schoolgirl. It also didn't help how mousy she came off, her aforementioned wide-eyed expression in turn going well with her short and slim stature, her arms little thicker than the chopsticks that sat in her chestnut hair and seemed to fasten the bun in it, and her height no more than 5'3.

In short, if the message had not been properly conveyed before, it was a miracle that a woman of 30 was as small and almost childlike as she was, but here she was.

Now, this young woman, like the rest of the customers about, was just here to shop for groceries, presently only holding a modestly sized bag of apples and other fruits behind her back, the plastic bag swaying carelessly in the air like a pendulum, her walking as calm and constant as the easy waves of the ocean. Her attention was fixated on all the vendors that occupied the sides, wondering what else she ought to buy. Hmm... Definitely need to get some more bread and eggs. Maybe some fish would be good for dinner tonight? Or beef! Or both? Wait, was that crawfish?! Oh, those had become so rare these days! And... lobster, even? Oh, she just had to have it all!

Bump!

"W-Wha--?"

She was so absorbed in all the foods she could possibly buy for dinner later today that she didn't notice the fairly large man in front of her, whom she'd accidentally bump into so harshly that she'd end up falling back on her behind with a resounding "Oof!" and a subsequent "Hey!" from the man, the bump having caused him to spill some of the drink he held in his hand onto his shirt.

The large man, sporting an almost comically large mustache, turned around and looked down at the comparatively mousy girl, his towering figure imposing quite a bit over her as he'd give a less than friendly look.

"Watch where you're goin', dumb girl!"

"Eek, I'm so, so sorry!" The woman gasped, akin to that of an intimidated schoolgirl.

"Tch... You're lucky you've got a cute face, little girl, or I woulda decked you good," The man, little more than irritated and evidently put into a sour mood if he wasn't before because of his dirtied shirt, would decide to walk off and continue about his business, leaving the woman by herself as she'd puff her cheeks cutely with a "Humph!" as her earlier embarrassed mood seemed to dissipate in an instant, replaced by discontent.

"Little girl...?! Jeez, just because he's all big and tall like that...!"

He didn't have the courtesy to help her pick up her things! Granted, she was the one who caused all this, but still! What kind of person called himself a man and left a lady to handle herself?! But that was fine, that was fine! She didn't need any overly polite knight in shining armor to help her around! With that, the woman would gather her bearings and attempt to recover her dropped items, which thankfully considered little more than fresh apples that didn't seem too perturbed by the ground that they had landed on. It was then, however, that she'd stop when an unfamiliar male voice would clear his throat behind her, and then speak.

"Excuse me, ma'am... Are you alright? Do you need any help?"

"?"

With a blink, the woman would look up, finding herself sitting in front of a young man, likely just a few years younger than her. With a benign smile, as well as gentle hazel eyes that seemed to mirror her own blue eyes, he held out his arm to her, offering a hand. He looked vaguely familiar to her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. All of the woman's irritation earlier had practically evaporated and been replaced by a grateful mien that resulted in her being unable to resist giving a smile back, and in no time, it was as though she were back to her original cheery self as she'd shake her head, gathering the last of the stray apples and taking a hold of his hand to help herself back up.

"N-No, I'm fine. Thank you though," she spoke gratefully, patting herself off before looking at the young man before her, "I guess that's just what happens when I stop paying attention, huh?"

"Ah, don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us," the young man laughed good-naturedly, running a hand through his raven hair as he did so, before speaking again, "You sure you're alright? Pretty good fall you had there, miss."

"Oh, no, I'm good... Really! Fit as a fiddle! In fact, I'm as good as ever, so you don't have to worry about a thing, mister!" The woman exclaimed in a practically obviously forced display of enthusiasm, as she clearly didn't want the man worrying too much on her account, though... While other people in her position might just want to get this stranger out of their hair, she was more genuinely trying to make sure he didn't occupy his own time worrying for her.

…

Grrrroowwwl.

Of course, all that backfired when the low rumbling of her stomach, embarrassingly enough, would ring out, stating quite the contrary. The woman paled, the color comically draining from her face as though she had become mortified, while the young man pursed his lips in a way that made it evident that he was holding back a laughter, before he'd get that out of his system by clearing his throat, beginning to speak again as his arm was still stretched out to her.

"... So, lunch then?"

- - -

"Ahaha, no, no! It's not like that! I just bought all these apples because I saw that they were on sale, and I figured that I may as well make a pie out of them."

"Then... In that case, if you didn't go out with the intention of making apple pie to begin with, then you wanted to buy other stuff too, right?"

"..."

Moment of realization.

Gasp.

"Oh, no! I forgot to buy the oranges and the bread, and—and the eggs, and the—!"

"Hey, hey, don't worry about it! You can always go back to that place," the young man spoke reassuringly, continuing to smile at her. Away from the marketplace, the two individuals now were seated at a cafe, specifically sitting out at one of the outside tables, as it seemed to be the nearest place where one could sit down and order a meal to enjoy. Left with waiting for their orders to arrive, having made them just a minute prior, the two of them conversed happily enough, "But shopping on an empty stomach isn't something you should make a habit of, Miss... Uh, you know, it just occurred to me, I don't think I actually caught your name."

"Oh, I guess you haven't. Guess we forgot that part, huh? Well, my name's Celeste. Celeste Khron," the cheerful woman finally introduced herself without hesitation, before tilting her head and gazing upon the man again that only continued to be eerily familiar to her, though she couldn't quite put her finger on it. May as well ask. Better now than ever if they were doing introductions now, "On that note, who might you even be? I feel like... We've met before, but it's a complete blur. I'm really sorry if you're some old friend I forgot about!" She apologized profusely, clapping her hands together as though praying for forgiveness, despite no claim of hers even being confirmed just yet.

Still, if nothing else, this sort of personality only garnered a cordial chuckle from the young man, who only shook his head. "No, no... I'm just a stranger passing by. Oh, and... You can call me Lucas," the young man would introduce himself in turn, smooth as glass, but not quite as transparent.

Celeste became silent for a good second, before letting out a small giggle, causing Lucas to raise an eyebrow, a silent gesture of asking what was so funny. Upon calming down quickly, she'd look upon him and take a breath. "Oh... Lucas, is it? What a coincidence! That's my son's name! Or... Well, more like his middle name to be exact."

Well, then. Now, that was a bombshell to drop.

"W... Wait, huh? You got a kid? You can't be that old, so... Would that mean... That you're... Uh, well...?"

"H-Huh?" Celeste inquired with wide eyes, tilting her head slightly as she wondered what the young man who introduced himself as Lucas was trying to imply, before it hit her like a brick wall, and her face flushed in an instant, "How rude! Are you implying that I... I'm some sort of hussy?!" Celeste inquired, seeming to take offense at whatever she believed him to be implying.

"I mean, you did say yes to a complete stranger offering to have lunch with you," Lucas spoke. He was well aware that him asking to eat with her, like they were going out on some blind date, was perhaps strange of him to begin with, but it wasn't... completely his fault, right? "Who knows what a stranger intends to do with pretty women? Especially those who give off the helpless schoolgirl vibe, if you catch my drift," he teased.

"H-Helpless schoolgirl?!" She couldn't believe what she had just heard! "I'll have you know that I just turned 30, so it's not even that bad! W-Wait... A-Are you one of those strangers who wants to do something bad to me?!""

Lucas raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms skeptically at her initial words, before shaking his head and sighing at her later ones. Well, she certainly didn't act her age, that was for sure.

"What do you think? Jeez... Normally, women would be more reluctant and embarrassed to drop their age like that..." The younger man murmured underneath his breath, but lo and behold, the childlike woman had ears like that of an elephant. They even almost twitched a little, as though his words elicited such a physical reaction from her.

"W-What's there to be embarrassed about?!"

"Nothing, nothing... In any case, so if you're 30, how old's your kid anyway? 4? 5?" Lucas would inquire just as a waiter would come over and set down two glasses of water on their table. Feeling a little parched, he reached over and took a sip of his water.

"U-Um... 13," Celeste meekly replied.

"PFFFFT—What?!" Lucas exclaimed with great surprise, now his time to show off wide eyes as he nearly spit out his water. Well, he did spit out a little, though he'd managed to drink most of it before he did, "And you got so mad at me earlier for—!"

"No, no, hear me out, it's not like that! Jeeez, stop jumping to conclusions!" Celeste exclaimed, almost beginning to blush again, before composing herself quickly and continuing to talk, "See, my son, he's... actually adopted. So he's not... really my child, but I love him as if he were," she spoke from the heart, a small genuine smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she thought on her child, like the thought of him seemed to erase any previous feeling of embarrassment she'd had a moment earlier.

She certainly seemed to be prone to switching between moods easily.

"See... I used to have a husband. We loved each other, or so we thought, but it was probably just... the passions of youth. We met when we were teenagers and ended up marrying by the time I was 24, but it didn't last. He was really excited to settle down and start a family with me, something about being really eager to bring a new family member into this world, but..." Celeste paused for a brief moment, her smile turning somewhat melancholy, as did her eyes, which gave off a more distant look suddenly, "He... left me pretty quickly. He just couldn't really handle it when he found out that... I couldn't... It turned out I wasn't able to... Y'know... conceive."

Lucas's carefree attitude quickly shifted when Celeste would reveal details about herself rather unexpectedly, giving her a frown and a comforting hand to touch hers, providing a warm touch to hands that were already warm. Gentle and soft, like a young mother indeed.

"I'm... sorry to hear that. I... I really shouldn't have..."

"No, no, it's okay!" Celeste said with a slightly brighter tone in her voice, shaking her head as she'd clear her throat and her smile would widen a bit more, becoming a bit more sheepish, "I suppose I'm not really supposed to say this sort of stuff, especially to people I just met, but... I dunno. I guess I just wanted to let someone outside of my family know. It's just... It's funny, you know? I can't even really be angry with that man, even if he did leave me. We just... made a lot of mistakes together, but that's okay. It's good to make mistakes. They're things to learn from, to... to look back upon, to remind ourselves of a time when we were less savvy of how the world works. And one of those mistakes he made was... He wanted too much too quickly, but then, don't a lot of people? I tried getting him to consider adopting a kid with me, but he was really insistent on it being related to us biological. I didn't think it mattered personally, as long as we loved our child just like it was our own, but he wouldn't have any of it, so he left. And I was alone."

"..."

Lucas kept silent while Celeste spoke, invested in her story, and he didn't dare to interrupt her for anything, letting the woman continue speaking as he continued to hold on to her hands. Truly, any bystander would never suspect that they were practical strangers on a "first date," but... Well, she didn't seem uncomfortable, and neither did he. It felt... nice. Natural. Nostalgic, even. Of a time when he...

"So, even after he left me, I decided to adopt a child. I figured... The world has too many people in it anyway, and a lot of them aren't fortunate enough to have parents who wanted to keep them, so I decided... I would take away the pain of a child who was alive and well, yet had been abandoned, just as I had. I mean, I didn't adopt him just to cope with loneliness or anything. I really grew to love him, as I expected myself to. And I think, in his own little way, he loves me the same. Even if he tries to hide it and won't even call me Mom," she almost seemed to giggle, her spirits lifted up a tad, before suddenly, her eyes would widen and she'd blink in surprise, pulling away from Lucas's hands, if only through a reflexive instinct more than anything, "Oh... I'm sorry, I ended up telling all about my personal life to you, a stranger. I guess I really do talk too much, huh?" She asked, playfully knocking on her temple with her fist and letting out a small, sheepish chuckle.

"No, no, it's fine, really!" Lucas insisted, attempting to defuse her awkwardness, though before he could say much more, the waiter would appear and drop off their orders, which consisted of little more than sandwiches and coffee. Not too bad for a cafe, but... Well, anyway.

Lucas kept silent for the most part, waiting for the waiter to go away, though it was a tad annoying, given how chatty he was, making a joke about how touchy the two of them were (Oh, he noticed), which elicited quite a blush from Celeste. Lucas could never understand how a girl could look so cute while seeming bashful, but then again, she wasn't a "girl" girl, so it didn't count, right?

Once the waiter had finally left, picking up the holo-menus laid out for them in the process, much to the raven-haired man's relief, he'd clear his throat, intending to get the conversation back on track. "In any case... Ah, well..." Lucas began, letting out a sheepish chuckle, before clearing his throat, "I mean, I think you're right. You know how kids are, especially at that age. I was the same when I was younger too," he said, idly taking a few bites out of his meal.

"You mean, you were adopted too?"

"... Y-Yeah," the younger man replied, an implicit hint of hesitation in his voice for whatever reason, "I was an orphan kid too. Lived in an okay orphanage, before I was eventually adopted by a caring woman who took me in," Lucas spoke, keeping somewhat vague to a degree, though it didn't seem like Celeste noticed. Once again, it was his turn to exact a habit that Celeste had done before; in this case, giving a more nostalgic, distant look as he spoke of his past, "I... couldn't have asked for a better mother, to be honest. She was a little clumsy and naive at times, but... She was also really kind and gentle... Even when I was at my worst, it never felt like she stopped caring for me."

Celeste tilted her head slightly, finishing up her sandwich rather quickly as Lucas spoke, eyes wide with curiosity, before nodding at his words and giving a sympathetic smile. "She sure sounds like a good person. But... If I may ask, why do you look so sad talking about her?"

True enough, try as he might to hide it, it seemed that the spark of sadness that flashed in his eyes was not something the woman was blind to. Once again, Lucas hesitated to speak, but did so anyway, deciding that if he was gonna start telling a story, he may as well tell its end as well. "It's just... Well, she was so good to me, y'know? We didn't really have a lot of money to begin with, but she made do regardless. She did so much for me, and yet, I couldn't... even call her Mom," he said, his voice growing lower as he resisted the urge to ball his hands into fists, feeling a sense of blood boiling at himself, "I always acted like I was embarrassed of her, and while... while she could be weird like that, that was part of what made her... her. And then, before I knew it, she died," Lucas continued, letting that bombshell sit for a few seconds, before elaborating, averting his gaze from Celeste's look, "Hovercar accident. It was all so sudden... I didn't even bother saying that I loved her before she left to go out. My stupid kid self thought stuff like that was just too embarrassing..."

Lucas didn't have any particular difficulty fighting an urge to cry or anything, but his melancholy was quite visible. Normally, he disliked wallowing in self-pity that he had introduced to others in the first place, but... He couldn't help it. Even so, Celeste pondered what to say in order to comfort him, before finding just the thing. Or so she believed.

"I'm... so sorry to hear that. But... Hey, if I know anything about being an adoptive mother, it's that we don't pick out a child and raise them just so we can hear a "Thanks" or so. We do it because we want to love a child and nurture them, and as long as that child is happy and well, then a mother couldn't ask for more. I'm sure that even without having to say anything... Your feelings came through," Celeste stated genuinely, giving a reassuring smile.

Lucas gave pause for a good moment, thinking over her words. It was as though whatever he had led himself to believe was being challenged in the most non-confrontational way ever, but...

"Do... Do you really think so?"

"I know so. It's the same with how Isaac – That's my son's first name, by the way, Isaac – is. He may not make a habit out of saying how much he loves me, but he doesn't have to, y'know? I already know how he feels."

"How do you know that?"

"Call it... mother's intuition," Celeste gave a small giggle and a strange wink, even putting a finger up to her pink lips, as though she were (badly) trying to be some sort of whimsical.

"I see... Then, in that case, I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it," Lucas responded, letting out a small chuckle.

Indeed, this Celeste Khron was a strange person, but not a bad person by any means.

Just as he remembered.

…

From there, the deep conversation about motherhood seemed to die down, and the two individuals were able to enjoy more light-hearted, trivial conversation, as they ate their food. The more peaceful exchange was certainly welcome on both sides.

Shortly after finishing her sandwich and coffee, the bill arriving and promptly being paid for in full by Lucas, Celeste would take a gander at her digital wristwatch, before letting out a small gasp. "Oh, no! I promised Isaac I'd be before sundown, and it's almost 6! Oh, dear... I'll have to go back tomorrow to get what I forgot, I suppose!" She would exclaim, abruptly bolting to her feet and gathering her things, giving Lucas a sheepish smile, "I'm really sorry, but I'm gonna have to get going! Unless... You'd want to come with me? Isaac may come off as shy, but—"

"Oh, no, I couldn't. Besides, one, I have some business of my own to attend to, and two... I mean, isn't it a little weird to invite someone you just met into your home?" Lucas pointed out, causing Celeste to once again obliviously tilt her head.

"Hmm? How so?"

God, she really was dense!

With an exasperated sigh, Lucas only rubbed the back of his head, before clearing his throat. "Never mind... Anyway, like I just said, I have some places I need to be myself. I'm here on business, so I'm not exactly from around here anyway."

"Oh... Then, does that mean... I won't be seeing you around?" Celeste inquired, seeming to be a bit downcast by his response.

"Ah... Unfortunately not. Once I'm done with what I need to do, I'm outta here, though I will say... I'm glad that a pretty girl accompanied me during my time here."

"B-But I'm not a little girl!" Celeste exclaimed, her face once again turning a bit red at the teasing that Lucas had put her up to, seeming to completely ignore the compliment about her appearance.

"Right, right," Lucas said with a small, good-natured laugh, before standing up as well. He waltzed over to in front of Celeste, the woman wondering what he was up to now, before his face would give a suddenly, surprisingly serious look, "Listen... Before you go, please... Take this. It's not a whole lot, but... I really wanted to give this to you," he spoke earnestly, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out something rather unexpected.

A stack of credits. The total value had to stack up to at least 5,000.

Celeste couldn't believe her eyes, no matter how wide she had them go. Five thousand credits?! But... What...?!

"H-Hey, hold on... Is this some... some kind of joke? You're just... gonna give me five thousand credits, just like that?"

"Yes. I want you to have this, as a gift from me to you," Lucas said seriously, no indication of joking present in his voice. His look was almost what one could call intense, though he was perhaps just one notch below that. Continuing to hold the stack out to her, he kept on talking, "If life with a single, adoptive mother has taught me anything, it's that it's never hard. You said it yourself, right? Your husband left you, so all that you have is yourself. I want to at least give you something, if only this, to help you get by. Please... Take it."

Celeste pursed her lips, at a loss for immediate words. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't have to. Her body did the talking for her, it seemed, as her hands would shakily, yet surely, take the credits offered to her, the woman pocketing it and looking up at him.

"... Thank you," she said, her expression reverting to that of a smile in no time, "I'll never forget this kindness. Thank you so much... And goodbye."

And with that, she leaned in, gave Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek, and then ran off, leaving the younger man standing there to himself.

"... What a weirdo."

With a sigh, hardly even reacting to the kiss, Lucas would stuff his hands into his pocket once again, this time pulling out what seemed to be a small notebook of sorts, with the words "Messenger Journal" engraved in it. Easily enough, he opened it and flipped over to the last page with writing on it, taking out the pen in the rings of the notebook and scratching out what was written in it:

Name – Celeste Khron

Destination – September 8, 2144

Arriving From – September 8, 2157

Item to Deliver – 5,000 Credits

Job Assigned by – Isaac Lucas Khron

Job Assigned to – Isaac Lucas Khron

Now that Celeste had left him, the Time Messenger, Isaac Lucas Khron, felt comfortable by himself. Comfortable enough that before he knew it, tears began to well up in his eyes, drops landing on the paper as he stifled a sniffle.

It was bittersweet to see his mother again, even if in a form like that. By law, he was forbidden from directly significantly interfering with established past, so he dare not try. Still, Lucas wanted to see her one last time, and she was the same as ever.

She was exactly as expected. What a predictable woman she was. But that was what made her her after all. With a bittersweet smile, Lucas rubbed his eyes to wipe away his tears, before turning around and pocketing his journal once again, walking by himself.

"Goodbye... Mom. I love you."

He had finally said it. After all this time, he finally did it.

Reflections

---

Morning

---

"Move it, shortstop." Laurel stumbled as she was shoved off the sidewalk and into the slush lining the gutters, the cold slurry splashing up and into her heavy boots. Looking up, she saw Beth and her cronies looking down at her. It was Beth herself who'd shoved her aside, hands shoved angrily into her pockets and glowering down at Laurel, her dark face and messy black hair a heavy contrast to the interchangeable tall pale blondeness of Cynthia, Sally H., and Godwyn, who were gathered cheerfully behind Beth. "People are trying to walk here."

"S-sorry," Laurel stammered, looking down at her boots.

"Y-you g-get that st-st-stammer from the thrift store too?" Cynthia - or maybe Sally H. - mocked cruelly. The other two cronies laughed, while Beth only continued to look down at Laurel, mouth working sourly and face unreadable.

"Sorry," Laurel repeated, quietly. "I'll, uh, w-watch where I'm going next t-time."

One of the blondes - Godwyn, perhaps - opened her mouth to make another jab, but Beth cut her off. "Yeah, whatever" she said, before giving a heavy yawn. "God, four o'clock and I'm still asleep. Can't believe I used to be a morning person. C'mon, let's grab some coffee or something."

As they walked off, Laurel heard them asking Beth about her brother, when he'd be back in town, and if he'd have new stuff ready for them when he did. Casually moving on and forgetting Laurel even existed. Sniffling, Laurel wiped her cold nose clean with a colder hand and sat down in a nearby doorway, despondent. She didn't know what she'd done to draw their hate. Her cousins had never been like that, and her parents had taught her to be kind to those around her. Yet high school seemed intent on throwing that back in her face, drowning her in cruelty and pettiness. She missed the peace and safety of being homeschooled. Of laughing and learning in equal parts alongside her family.

Laurel hunched down lower in the doorway, miserable. This wasn't how she'd thought school would go at all. She'd imagined late night study parties. Meeting close friends for life. Finding love, and kisses shared beneath a starry sky. Wiping her nose with the back of her hand once more, Laurel got to her feet and went to take the long route home, away from Beth and her cronies.

"Do you want to be something special?"

Laurel turned to see one of Beth's friends standing behind her. A small, quiet girl she'd never really paid attention to before, with wide blue eyes and a swirling cloud of almost white hair. "S-sorry," Laurel stammered, "what was that?"

"Do you want to be something special?" the girl repeated, oddly grave. "Do you want to travel between worlds? Help people?"

Laurel opened her mouth to voice her confusion, but the girls small hands shot out and enveloped her own. Her mouth shut with a jolt as the world seemed to flex for a moment, an afterimage of reality overlaying itself on top of the world, it's hue and saturation subtly wrong. She looked around in shock for a moment before the blonde girl caught her eye. And where the blonde girl's eyes had been, there was now only a gaping abyss. A glimpse into something wide and dark and unknowable. "Who- what are you?"

"You can call me Shy," the girl answered. "And I am something not quite real. Something from a dream. The Dream. Please, will you help? I need your help-"

"Shy!" Down the street, Beth was shoving past her friends, staring at Laurel and Shy. her face angry and yet also oddly afraid. "Shy, get back here! Leave her alone!"

Laurels hands clenched beneath Shy's cool grasp. She was sick of Beth, sick of being pushed around and looked down on. She wanted to be liked, to be someone important. "I-I want to be special," she whispered, voice hoarse with the need for it. "Please, let me h-help. I'll help."

Beth was only a few metres away now, her footsteps hurried and fists swingly tightly by her side. Her friends didn't even bother to look as she continued to shout, but Shy only smiled and stood, hands still clasping Laurel's. "Thank you," she said, and pulled Laurel forward into the abyss.

---

Dusk

---

Inside the Dream, it was cold and vast and dark, as it always was. Scenes and people and objects flowed and merged together, as transparent and false as afterimages. These were the worlds of the sleeping, a faint bridge between the real world and the Dream.

The Dream itself would not begin to take shape until it was acted upon, either by itself or by Laurel and Beth. They were the architects, their struggle giving form the formless.

For half a year Laurel had been keeping the Dream in check, cutting out its roots before it could drag itself into reality at the cost of those whose dreams bridged the gap. For half a year she'd spent her sleeping hours in here, and it still felt impossibly strange and alien to her.

Even stoic, private Beth admitted she felt the foreign oppressiveness of it weigh down on her, and she'd been fighting the Dream on her own for a year before Shy had first pulled Laurel in.

Reigning in her discomfort, Laurel began to give herself form, drawing upon the latent possibility around her to recreate her body. Looking inward, she recalled the feeling of air moving past her body. Faced her imperfections and humbly accepted her strengths. She didn't rush the process, remembering the misshapen messes she had created her first few times. Even after she had learned to make something that looked human, it was weeks before it had actually been her. Once she was finished, not even needing to look to know she had gotten it right, she raised her head and conjured clothes. Where the body was an act of patience and self-reflection, the clothes were an act of improvisation and desire. Light was drawn forth from the abyss and wrapped around her. Revelling in the myriad colours and possibilities represented in that light, she willed it spin around her faster and faster before letting it settle into something solid. An extravagant, weightless blue gown, stretching from the top of her neck down to the base of her feet.

Satisfied, Laurel raised her hand to the heavens and began to envision an arrow, its shape forming as light inside her forearm itself. She thought of it in movement, its speed and purpose, and it began to hum with tension, her entire arm tingling with its need to fly. With a grin, Laurel let go, and the arrow shot forth from the palm of her hand high into the black sky before bursting into violet light. For a few moments, there was only Laurel and the cascading light amidst the half-formed visions of the sleeping, then the space before her began to warp and out of it stepped Beth.

Where Laurel chose to dress herself like something from a fairy tale, all frills and lace and extravagance, Beth was far more simple in her choice of apparel. Dressed in simple, low-cut black clothes, with green highlights that traced her curves, she looked at once both more mature and more competent than Laurel. At first that had bothered Laurel, made her feel inferior, but over time she had come to understand they simply approached the same problems in different ways. Neither better nor worse than the other.

Beth laced her hands above her head and began to stretch, working out nonexistent kinks in her spine. "Ready to get started, then?"

Nodding, Laurel knelt down on the ground, gown billowing around her, and dug her fingers into the soft surface of the Dream. Slowly exhaling, she let her eyes close and consciousness expand outwards, searching for roots. With people's dreams so indistinct, it was nearly impossible to find where the Dream had planted its roots simply by looking. Beth's solution was to simply begin tearing at the foundation of the Dream, rending it asunder until she encountered resistance. Laurel, however, preferred a more patient approach. Letting herself slip and fade as far into the Dream as she dared until she could feel the pulse of it, find it's energy and trace it to its burgeoning saplings.

When she finally found a vein, she filled it with light to guide them to its end. Finished, she began withdraw when her mind brushed against another, weaker vein further out. Feeling uneasy, she marked it with light as well before fully pulling back into her imagined body. Above her, Beth was frowning out across the horizon.

"Which line is it?" she asked, looking between two slithering tendrils in the distance. One strong and bright, the other dull and faltering.

"B-both."

"Both? It's never grabbed two minds in one night before. Sure you're not imagining things?"

"I-I don't know, but I d-definitely felt two of them." Wringing her hands together, Laurel hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Y-you said there used to only be a few a week, right? Then one almost every night? And since I've st-started, there's only been a handful of empty nights."

Beth worked her mouth sourly. "The Dream's getting stronger, yeah. But now we're going to have to split up to deal with them both." Beth cursed quietly. "Fuck. Fine. I'll take the bright one."

"T-that's not going to, uh, work though."

"You've been at this long enough," Beth snapped, "don't tell you can't handle one night on your own."

"N-no," Laurel stammered, "that's not what I mean. If it's, y'know, getting stronger, we c-can't keep up with it forever."

"We don't have much choice," Beth retorted. "It's that or let it send our friends and family into comas as it tries to drag itself out of here."

Laurel swallowed, looking out at the two violet tendrils of light. Where they sunk into the boundary between the Dream and reality, and where they stretched back into the furthest unknown depths. "W-we could go for the source. St-stop it once and for all."

"Don't be an idiot," Beth said. "Even the roots put up a fight when we destroy them. Imagine what the source would be like." But even as she spoke, she too was looking out to where the veins of light disappeared in the distance, eyes hungry.

"W-we can do this," Laurel urged, "together."

"We can do this," Beth muttered, then looked at Laurel, something approaching a smile on her mouth. "Let's do it."

---

Afternoon

---

"What is it t-that the Dream wants?"

Shy looked up at Laurel confused. The two of them were sitting in Laurel's room, surrounded by stuffed animals and scattered dolls. Childs toys, but things that Laurel found comforting. From the radio on her desk, light rock played softly, and downstairs Laurel's cousins could be heard stomping around, getting ready for soccer practice. Shy looked Laurel over for a moment, then turned to the window. "Did Beth not say?"

"B-Beth doesn't, uh, t-talk to me much," Laurel admitted, "l-like, at all. I don't think she w-wants me around."

"Oh," Shy turned back to Laurel, head tilted and wide eyes both blue and empty at the same time. "It wants to be real. It wants to live and breath and grow, and is willing to drag others back into its prison in order to pull itself free."

"B-but you're a p-part of the Dream, right? And you're here. Uh, real."

"No," Shy stated quietly. "I am not. I am only real to you, and to Beth. Everyone else sees me, but even as they look at me, they forget me. Something at the edge of their awareness, slipping even as they try to focus on it."

"O-oh." Laura awkwardly began fidgeting with the hem of her dress, rubbing it between her fingers. "I'm, uh... I'm s-sorry?"

"It's not your doing." Shy leaned forward, and as she did, the sunlight filtered through the window became caught in that swirling cloud of hair. Refracted and multiplied into a soft halo around Shy's peaceful, cherub-like face. But even then, those wide eyes continued to bore into Laura, impenetrably deep and ancient. "Just know that as long as you and Beth continue to fight the Dream, you are doing the right thing. That is all I need of you."

---

Midnight

---

The veins of light had led them further into the Dream than they had ever been before. Above them, the uniform darkness had given way to swirling constellations of stars, pulsating bursts of light that refused to remain still. Sometimes they seemed impossibly distant, further than the furthest galaxies, and other times they seemed to hang heavy over Laurel's head, ready to fall upon her in a cascade of stardust. Beneath their feet, the veins of light had widened into paths, twisting and flowing through each other. Until, eventually, they came to rest at the base of a mighty tree. Every time Laurel blinked, it seemed to take a new shape; at once a willow and a pine, an oak and a birch. It's branches stretched far into the sky, waves of pale blue light coursing beneath the bark. It sparked and thrummed with energy, reminding Laurel of diagrams of nervous systems.

This far from the boundary between the Dream and reality, there were no afterimages of dreams. Only barren ground and bloated stars, shifting tree and writhing roots. When Laurel turned to Beth, fear and adrenaline holding her heart prisoner, she found Beth looking back at her, face dangerous and determined. There was a purpose to her, a sharp edge. Something that had always rested just beneath her skin, cutting and pressing forward in times of need. Now, in the heart of the Dream, those honed blades began to surface, forming as shards of green light swirling around Beth's hands.

With a small nod, Beth signalled for Laurel to back away before turning to face the tree. The shards grew sharper and brighter, increasingly deadly and chaotic as even more were pulled from the void to join the turmoil. The storm grew larger and larger until finally it coalesced into a single massive swarm, directed by Beth's guiding hands. With a shout, she let it loose, the shards cutting into the roots and base of the tree. There was a maddened shriek as the bark split and charred, cords of lightning arcing outwards and gouging rifts along the ground.

Hurriedly, Laura formed a protective bubble around her and Beth, the lightning coursing around it hungrily. The shriek of the wounded tree grew higher and higher in pitch, reaching far above the normal range of human hearing. But in the Dream, such limitations lost all meaning, and the sound continued to tear at Laurel's ears, sending her to her knees. Then, suddenly, it stopped. The last few sparks of electricity faded away, and the tree was still once more. Beth looked back to Laurel, confused, but Laurel had no answers for her.

They stood there for a moment, wondering if victory had been so easy, when the tree began to shudder. Pale, gnarled hands began to grow from the wounds left by the shards. Scrabbling, clutching hands that pulled themselves further out, dragging arms and bodies behind them. Dozens of them, one from each cut. When they stood, they were crooked and unsteady things, somewhere between a person and a dried piece of driftwood. Cracked and pale, stiff and hollow. They moved in jerks and bursts, hardly seeming to transition from one position to the next.

Without hesitation Beth darted forward, already summoning another cloud of green shards to swirl around her fists. Further back, Laurel gathered an arrow of light in her arm before shooting it out towards the furthest of the saprolings, piercing one through the chest before continuing onwards to remove the arm of another. The first collapsed, while the second changed course away from Beth and towards Laurel, apparently unhindered by the smoking stump left of its arm.. A few others nearby did the same, moving surprisingly fast with their jittering movements.

Raising a series of floating steps, Laurel hopped away from them, shooting arrows back down at them all the while. Beneath her, Beth danced amidst a crowd of saprolings, ducking beneath their blows and shredding apart those who lingered in her presence. But even as they were struck down, others stepped in to take their place, dangerous by sheer volume, and Beth was slowly forced backwards towards the tree.

Worried, and with the rest of those that had been hounding her struck down, Laurel lowered herself to the ground once more to steady her aim and began picking off those at the edge of the crowd, not wanting to risk hitting Beth by mistake. Together, they began to bring down the saprolings, though those that remained continued to back Beth towards the tree, trying to corner her. No matter how unpredictably she moved or how quickly she dodged, there was always another saproling there to throw itself in her way, regardless of it's own well being. Until at last, with only a handful of saprolings left, Beth went to step backwards only to find the tree at her back. Sensing victory, the saprolings latched onto her tight, forcing her wrists back, their wooden strength too much for Beth to overcome.

Panicking, Laurel readied another arrow and let loose, her aim dangerously close to Beth. With a burst of violet light, two of the saprolings fell back, leaving only one gripping Beth's wrist. It froze for only a moment before lunging to grab Beth's other wrist, but Beth was faster, whipping her hand around and shoving a green shard into the saproling's featureless face. It staggered back, clutching at the light, before toppling to the ground.

Sharing a sigh of relief, Laurel and Beth relaxed, the fight won. Around them the saprolings littered the ground, faintly smoking where the weapons of light had cut them. Some still twitched, defeated but not quite dead, long fingers scratching at the ground.

Beth looked up at Laurel and smiled for a moment, before confusion washed across her face and she looked down at her feett. Following her gaze, Laurel could see the roots of the tree slowly settling around Beth's ankles, holding them tight. The two looked back up at each other in horror, before fresh branches shot out of the trunk and latched onto to Beth, and began to drag her towards it's hungry mass.

---

Evening

---

"Why d-do you hang out with them?"

The two of them were sitting around Laurel's kitchen table, working on math homework. The sound of Laurel's father mowing the lawn gently wafted through the open window, while upstairs her mother could be heard softly singing in the shower. Beth, meanwhile, seemed barely conscious, stifling yet another yawn as she looked up. "With who?"

"Your c-" Laurel only just managed to stop herself before the word 'cronies' left her lips. "Friends. Cynthia, Sally H., Godwyn. T-them. You don't really seem like their type."

"Their type?" Beth asked warily. "What do you mean by that?"

"L-like, you're not... outgoing like they are. You don't obsess over makeup or g-gossip about boys or things like that. You're acad-demic and reclusive and... yeah."

"You have a really childish idea of what my friends are like," Beth muttered, scratching down another answer to her homework. "Is there something you're getting at, with this? Or just shitting on my social life?"

"W-well," Laurel shuffled some math handouts around as she gathered her thoughts, knowing she was on thin ice and about to step onto thinner. "You said you get them good deals on, uh, m-marijuana because of your brother, right? S-so, don't you worry that they just hang out with you for a ch-cheap high?"

Beth was silent for a moment, face inscrutable as she studied Laurel before answering. "Whatever. Not your problem."

"W-what?" Laurel leaned forward, face earnest. "I'm j-just, like, worried. That they're, you know, taking advantage of you. That they d-don't actually care about-"

"Of course they don't fucking care about me," Beth shouted, suddenly on her feet, knuckles white on the edge of the table. "You think I need some fucking princess like you to tell me that? I know they just put up with me to get deals from my brother. I've known since day fucking one. But what am I supposed to do, huh? They're the only ones who will hang out with someone like me, and it's a far sight better than nothing."

"I-I was just trying to help."

"I don't want your help," Beth answered hotly. "I don't need it. What do you know about any of this kind of thing anyway? Little miss perfect, with her doting parents and friendly cousins. Sharing laughs and smiles with everyone at school." Beth sat back down, head buried in her hands. "You don't even need to try to win people over. They just... like you," Beth snapped her fingers, "just like that."

Laurel yearned to reach out and rest a hand on Beth's shoulder. To lend a comforting touch. But even now, after months of sharing the Dream together, Laurel couldn't help but be afraid of Beth. Of her anger and insecurities. "I-I didn't win you over."

"No," Beth admitted, raising her head and letting her hands fall away, "you didn't." For a moment she looked as if she was going to say more, guilt and resentment both lurking beneath her dark eyes, before she turned away. "I need to leave if I want to have dinner ready for when my mom and dad get off work."

"Beth, I didn't m-mean to-"

"I dont want your pity, so please just... stop. I'll see you tonight."

---

Dawn

---

Slowly, inevitably, the grasping branches began to envelope Beth, pulling her into the tree's embrace. "Laurel!" she shouted, reaching out desperately with her free hand.

Stumbling over herself in her haste and darting around the twitching forms of the fallen saprolings, Laurel raced to Beth and grabbing the outstretched arm even as the branches began to pull it back. She dug her heels in the ground, trying to find the purchase needed to drag Beth free, but the tree was patient. Relentless. Its bark began to flow outwards and over Beth, making her a part of itself. Letting go with one hand, Laurel reached out behind her and summoned chains from the ground, ordered them to wrap around her and anchor her. To lash her and Beth's hands together. "I-I got you," Laurel stammered, straining. But even as she worked, the tree sent roots to entangle her chains, worked its implacable will against hers.

Slowly, Laurel felt Beth's wrist sliding out of her grip. "Please," Beth begged, as branches began to stretch up her neck. A pale and gnarled necklace, pulsing with energy. "Please." Laurel could feel Beth's conscious reaching out to her even as her grip weakened, and Laurel responded in kind, their minds coiling around each other, desperate for purchase. And in their opposites, began to bond. Like the teeth of a zipper, hope found fear. Self-pity found self-hatred; love found loneliness; forgiveness, bitterness; and idealism, realism. All their disparities came together into a unified need for acceptance; for each other. Laurel's violet aura met Beth's green, and the two merged into gold. A gold light that filled them with warmth and with comfort. That washed away their fear and laid to rest their doubts.

The tree began to writhe and shudder, the branches that held Beth catching aflame. Curling and turning ashen beneath the golden light, their hungry grip crumbled, and Beth tumbled out from the tree and into Laurel's waiting arms. Pieces of charred bark fell harmless from her skin. They clutched at each other, sobbing with relief, as above them the fire spread. Against the combined truth of all their pieces, their strengths and flaws, the falseness of the Dream was helpless. Clouds of blue and black ash flowed up into the void, blotting out the heavy stars. The branches cracked and twisted backwards upon themselves, sending thunderous shudders through the ground. And as the fire turned to an inferno, the entire tree began to collapse, folding inwards and downwards until all that was left was a hunched, smoldering form. A girl, with wide hurt eyes and a swirling cloud of sparks for hair.

Laurel looked on with horror as Shy straightened uneasily amidst the ash, coals burning beneath her flesh, skin peeling back from the heat. "I'm sorry," Shy gasped, sparks drifting from her mouth. "I'm sorry. I only wanted to be real." She took a tottering step forward, reaching out towards Laurel and Beth, blackening face twisted with envy. "I wanted... this," with every pained word her voice grew quieter, more strained. One finger from her outstretched hand fell to the ground and shattered, scattering coal and ash. "I wanted you. I wanted-" With her next step, her leg collapsed, sparks flung forward as her body tumbled to the ground and crumbled, leaving nothing but a dark mound and a cloud of soot.

Laurel clasped a hand to her mouth, fighting the urge to be sick. Beside her, Beth shuddered once before climbing to her feet. "We have to go," she muttered, half-dragging Laurel behind her. "We need to leave... this."

Nodding mutely, Laurel let herself be dragged alone. The two of them followed the tendrils of light back to the boundary, puffs of soot drifting from them with each step. Their skin was dark and coarse from it, their noses clogged with the smell of burnt wood and burnt flesh. Beneath, the golden light still glowed softly, strongest where Beth gripped Laurel with ferocious strength.

So weary was Laurel, that she didn't even notice when they reached the boundary, only looking up when Beth lowered her to her knees and forced her hands into the ground. "Let's go home," she said. "Let's go home."

---

Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady

Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady

Boom Boom Joykick watched helplessly, fists clenched, as her best friend Daphne was hauled away by the gang of thugs, one of them holding a knife to Daphne's throat. The slightest pressure and her subclavian artery would be slashed. Boom Boom cursed them viciously, but Daphne's captors just laughed mockingly, knowing the little terror didn't dare make a move on them.

"The boss just wanted insurance, Boom Boom," purred Ratface Roy. "As soon the shipment leaves the city with NO complications, you'll have your pal back. Mostly in one piece."

The other men snickered as Daphne whimpered beneath the meaty hand placed over her rosebud mouth.

Boom Boom had told Daphne to stay away from Ratface, but the naïve girl had believed the man's lies, eating up his flattery like it was gummy bears. Ratface was just misunderstood, protested Daphne (and besides that, he was falling in love with her, she was sure). Now, too late, Daphne knew the truth.

"Bye bye!" called Ratface mockingly as they piled into the waiting helicopter (sadly crumpling the pathetic little bows on Daphne's summer dress).

The helicopter quickly became just a dot in the sky.

Boom Boom raced to the edge of the building's roof, visually tracking them as long as she could with her sharpened senses. Ah, they were heading to the old peanut processing factory along the Hudson River. This was one of their lairs that she had scouted out long ago, but which had appeared deserted until now.

She needed to beat them there!

Boom Boom scrunched up her eyes (looking adorably bad ass in her tiny black shorts and clinging tank top displaying the picture of a smiling teddy bear holding a bloody axe) and concentrated on the magic stone in her hand. "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl, I need you NOW!"

There was a radiant flash of cotton candy-colored sparkles and ExtraSpecial Magic Girl appeared in a swirl of shimmering white robes fluttering over a purple underdress and tied with a deep pink sash. Her theme music played in her head as she blinked huge purple eyes, shook out her long silvery hair, and looked soulfully at Boom Boom. "You called?" she asked in a tiny feminine voice.

AND …. CUT!" shouted the director. "Good job, people. That's all for today."

"About fuckin' time," grumbled Suzi (aka Extraspecial Magic Girl) as an assistant helped pop out her purple contact lenses. "I got a manicure at eight and then a hot HOT date."

"Anyone we know?" asked Marian (aka Daphne or "Stupid & Naïve" -- as the cast liked to call her) with a sly smile.

"No one she WANTS us to know," snickered Bunny (Boom Boom Joykick), picking up another bruise as she clumsily bumped into a heavy prop.

As the three actresses began to make a mad dash to their trailer dressing rooms, their agent, "Killjoy" Malloy, stepped in front of them. "Wait, I have to talk to the three of you." He looked admonishingly at the crew, who were openly eavesdropping and lowered his voice. "URGENTLY. But not here. Meet me at Vern's Whiskey & Malt Shop in 15 minutes."

Malloy then scurried away like the little cockroach he was, pretending not to hear them cursing him out.

Forty minutes later, as Malloy nursed his third malt, the girls started to trickle in belligerently. Malloy straightened up in his seat and held out his hands in defense against a deluge of questions. "Just listen to me, okay?" he pleaded.

There were grumbles, but as Malloy said the magic words "major studio," "movie," and "starring role," he quickly got their undivided attention. He gulped nervously as he got to the part where he had to tell them this was not a remake of their blossoming t.v. series and would star only ONE of them.

"The producer wants to meet you first. All of you," he hastily clarified. "The script's not set in stone yet and it could go in any direction. And no, I can't tell you his name in advance."

"OH MAH GAWD," protested Suzi loudly, "Is this going to be some casting couch sleazebag shit?"

Several other occupants of the malt shop shot dirty looks at their booth. Bunny cringed internally and sat on her hands as if to distance herself. Marian simply smoothed her hair and tilted her face to make sure that she was presenting an excellent profile (in case any cell phones were focused on her lovely visage).

"No, no!" fussed Malloy, "Nothing like that. I mean, I don't THINK so. But…you might kinda need to convince him that you're -- you know . . . ." He flapped his hands helplessly.

The girls shot a weary glance at each other.

"Yeah, we know," sighed Marian. "That we're like the characters that we play. That is SO stupid."

"Ah, come on," begged Suzi, "tell me this isn't some 40-something-year-old guy that sleeps with a body pillow of his waifu."

Malloy pressed his lips together in a tight line and looked at them unblinkingly. (God forbid that the young harridans ever discover him with a picture of his husbando. He'd never hear the end of it.)

Suzi slurped the last dregs of her drink voraciously and sprinkled some pink "fairy dust" on the counter, as Killjoy Malloy pressed on with the details. The limo would pick them up tomorrow morning, blah, blah, blah.

As their waitress approached them with a weary demeanor and stared pointedly at the pile of "fairy" dust, Suzi shrugged and grinned, "Just keeping the legend alive." Suzi knew she often acted like an annoying careless flake, but that was just part of her act to get through life. A girl had to have some fun.

Malloy left an extra-large tip for the fairy mess; the girls might not hang out here much, but he did!

That night (or at least early morning) as each young lady finally fell asleep, they had a dream. A very vivid dream….

Suzi was the first to be picked up by the limo at the incredibly early hour of 10 a.m. She glanced at the bed. Her date from last night was still asleep and snoring like some prehistoric animal. Ugh. That was like, minus 40 on the adorability scale. She wanted to talk to someone about her dream, but obviously it wasn't going to be him. She could barely wait until her two co-stars got in the vehicle.

"Buns! Mare! I had the weirdest dream!" Bunny and Marian almost dropped their caramel brulée lattes as they stared at Suzi.

"Don't CALL me that!" Marian and Bunny protested in unison.

Suzi apologized half-heartedly, "Sorry, yeah?" Then she stared distractedly at their drinks. "Do you guys even KNOW how many calories are in that shit? Way to pudge up, girls. Anyways, about my dream…"

"Wait," protested Marian, "I had a weird dream, too! Maybe we got dosed with something."

Bunny stared at them poutily. "You guys partied together last night and didn't ask ME?!"

"Ah shite, Buns," sighed Suzi, "You're not street legal yet. We'll party together in January when you hit 21."

Bunny scowled. "Yeah, well I had a weird dream too and no one dosed me with anything."

The three girls started talking excitedly over each other in the mysterious way that some people have of talking and listening at the same time. Each one of them had received a dream "visitation" from a shiny doppelganger, promising them what they wanted most in life in exchange for …

And there the conversation broke off.

There was some shifting and squirming on the luxurious seating. No one wanted to say what the terms of their particular offer consisted of. And no one wanted to pry because that meant THEY would have to put their cards on the table as well. Plus each of them was kind of freaked the hell out because … for them to have the same dream?!? Too eerie. Too … real. But also … exciting.

It was a distracted group that piled into the front door of the hideous pink mansionette. Marian barely had enough focus to reapply her lipstick. Suzi half-heartedly hefted her tits to their best advantage. Bunny fluffed her short hairdo with contempt.

It was like . . . suddenly a line was drawn in the sand (in the sand of life, thought Marian, proudly aware that she was being deep) and that line would never go away. Well, hmm, then it was more like a line drawn in concrete than sand. Though if the concrete were wet, it could still be erased.

She was still trying to work the concept out, when the butler led them to the drawing room and ushered them into the smiling presence of Vor Milekh, the successful producer and director of such hit movies as "Bambi In Outer Space," "Demon On A Half-Shell," "Cowgirl Kickstop," "High School Summer Camp Sleepover," "The Awful Truth (And A Few Wonderful Lies) About Sasha," and many more.

Vor was beautiful. He was tall and graceful with a slim but powerful build. His abundant and silky dark blonde hair curled over the back of his collar. His laughing blue eyes were like dusky sapphires. He radiated charm and attentiveness. He was like a creature from another world.

The young ladies found themselves swept off their feet. Of course they had seen photos of Vor in People, Vogue, and Vanity Fair. But they never expected a man this old (why he must be over 40 at least, considering when his first hit came out) to be so attractive, so interesting, so enchanting. They sat down without any recollection of really doing so, with their mouths hanging slightly open.

Killjoy Malloy was there too, a dull beetle of a man, next to this glorious phoenix. No one had eyes for him. He was like a shadow: insubstantial, almost invisible.

Vor chatted with the girls for several minutes. For the life of them, they couldn't remember what was said as the butler brought in breakfast pastries and drinks. They felt themselves drawn into the curve of Vor's smile, the sparkle of his eyes, the intimate glance that seemed to read their secret thoughts and promise them – something that made them tingle to their very toes.

None of them noticed the subtle signals exchanged in the room. Between Vor and Killjoy. Between Vor and his butler.

Suzi felt very sleepy as she relaxed into the couch. Her eyes shut. She heard voices – as if distant and unconnected with her. Like the faint shouts of children on a playground blocks away.

"Good job, Malloy," commended Vor. "Through the dream testing, this interview and other analysis, we've ascertained the source of the problem. We will send the two lesser ones home, making sure they recollect nothing of what actually transpired here and providing them with new memories."

"Yessir," the agent replied humbly. "But which one is the problem?"

Vor chuckled throatily. "Quite a jest, but it's your Magic Girl."

"Eh, take her and good riddance," grumbled Malloy. "I'm always having to clean up her frigging 'fairy dust.' I assume I'll get a replacement?"

There was a moment of frigid silence. In the meantime, Suzi's heart gave a great thump and she came to full alert, but kept her eyes closely shut and didn't move a muscle.

"Human, you annoy me," growled Vor. "Of course, there will be a replacement. Not for YOUR convenience, but so that the balance between worlds can be maintained. Or perhaps you are telling me how to do my job?"

There was the sound of gliding footsteps across a polished floor and then a slight struggle followed by cries of pain.

"No!" squealed Malloy. "Forgive me. I did not mean to…!"

Something thumped heavily, like a body dropped from a height.

"Go now," hissed Vor (not as alluring and charming as his voice once had sounded). "Remember YOU can be replaced at any time. I doubt you will find the transition pleasant. No further warning will be given."

Suzi heard Malloy's obsequious apologies as he scurried out. All this time she had been thinking furiously, her mind no longer in a fog. Was this a joke? An acting test? She wanted to think so, but every terrorized instinct told her otherwise.

Strong hands closed on her and her eyes flew open as she prepared to fight free. Vor held her in an iron grasp as his servants flooded the room. He was still handsome and alluring, but now like a beautiful deadly snake and nothing that she desired to touch. Cold; cold as ice, cold as death was his touch.

"My little eavesdropper," hissed Vor. "You have a journey to make."

Suzi tried to fight free, but it was useless. She watched Bunny and Marian being carried off through the expensively-furnished room, their forms limps, their eyes closed.

Her captor followed her glance. "You have feelings for your co-stars? Friends, are they? If you cooperate with me, they will not be hurt. In fact, they will continue to lead happy and productive human lives. For what that is worth."

Suzi forbade to tell him that she wasn't quite so noble. Let the crazy bastard think he had her by the short hairs. "Okay," she let her fear show openly in her trembling voice. "What do you want me to do? Sleep with you? Please please don't hurt me!"

She sensed perfectly well that sex had nothing to do with this, but let Vor (if this even was Vor and not a "replacement") think that she was that stupid. Suzi had grown up the hard way with very little advantages, seen an amazing amount of crazy shit, and one of the keys to survival, in her opinion, was that there were times to let the enemy think you are stupid and weak as possible.

Vor sneered contemptuously. "As if a god would mate with an earthworm. You disgust me! But you will be a fine vessel for M'lashanra."

Suzi let the despair show in her face. Acting lessons plus life's lessons had forged her to be as crafty as any spy. "Please. You're stronger than me. If you don't hurt me, I'll do anything you say. But you're scaring me. If you can just explain, I promise I'll be good."

Vor relaxed his grip momentarily and sat down next to her, casually. Suzi could hear the sound of activity in the background. She felt there were only moments to spare before something dreadful occurred. She had to know what!

"Very well, little one," acceded Vor, like a perfect host, "I'll explain and you'll obey, yes?"

Suzi nodded her head vigorously in assent.

"My people have a growing presence in your society. We monitor your world for certain types of anomalies that tend to crop up in some professions more than others. YOU are such an anomaly and pose a threat. Therefore you need to be removed."

Her host craftily watched her reactions to his statements. Suzi was diligent in providing the correct amount of horror, despair and disbelief. She didn't care if what he said was true, false, or completely lunatic – she just needed him to keep talking until she found a loophole, a handhold--something she could use to her advantage.

Vor leaned back, crossing his legs and continued, while running a hand through her long white-blonde hair and tugging it. "This execrable television show you're in. It is producing a strange result in certain children. A result we do not desire. Our research shows this is usually due to the influence of one of the show's principle actors."

"What do you mean?" gasped Suzi, falsely timid and bewildered. "I was influencing children strangely? How?"

Vor pulled her face close to his as if he meant to eat her. "Magic, my dear," he snarled. "Or what your people call magic. Stupid human-born magic." He shoved her away. "We don't need any of that on your planet. We like you humans the way you are – stupid, helpless, and greedy. And getting worse all the time. We're very pleased with this country's election results, by the way. This is a very promising time for us to bring in more of our people."

"So you're saying, I … influenced children with magic?" puzzled Suzi. (She was increasingly less inclined to think there were actually aliens present and more inclined to think Vor was absolutely insane.) "But I don't have any magic! I'm not even Wiccan. Or Pagan. Or any of those!"

Now, that wasn't strictly true, but Suzi was very careful in covering her tracks. Paparazzi were everywhere.

"Consider the conversation closed," sighed Vor, standing up and tugging at her hand. "There's no use trying to explain anything to you humans."

Suzi obediently stood up, signaling her complete compliance, but continued to batter him with questions. "Please, sir. If I'm about to die, please let me know why."

"You're not going to die," said Vor, rolling his eyes. "Well, at least not here. Necessarily. I have no responsibility for you after the transfer. But the death sentence for your kind is not yet sanctioned. Though I have no doubt the council will eventually vote otherwise."

Suzi whimpered. She could see she was irritating Vor and that he was on the edge of an explosion. In the next moment, he grasped her chin. "YES! You have magic, you idiot human. Obviously, untapped and unrefined power. We tested you and your co-workers and have proved it was you creating the problem. Therefore, you will be rooted out and replaced. Your family and loved ones will never suffer. We will put one of our agents in your place and no one will never know the difference. Your replacement will quit the show today and start work as the star of my new movie. Everything is arranged."

Suzi's eyes opened wide. "And you replaced the real Vor."

Her enemy sighed. "Of course, you witless child. Don't tell me you just realized that?" His head swung around in response to his butler's hand signal. "We're ready to begin the transfer. Come along."

"I won't fight you," lied Suzi in her tiny "ExtraSpecial Magic Girl" voice, meekly and despondently walking next to him. "Just please tell me where you're sending me to so I don't act incorrectly. Otherwise, I may scream and cry and try to run away. Just because I am so afraid. Not because I want to behave badly."

Vor stood still in the doorway and considered this. "Hmm. That has been quite a problem with the transfers. Perhaps there is some merit in your request. Just know that you will arrive safely in a world which may misleadingly appear to be much like your own. One of our agents will have charge of you. Your earth memories will be erased. Sometimes the procedure is effective immediately and sometimes it needs to be repeated. However, as long as you cooperate, our people will not harm you. You will be provided for. But, if you ever try to escape and succeed – we will not be able to protect you. And you will most likely die a horrible death."

He smiled at her maliciously. "Consider that carefully."

Vor's people led her to a strangely constructed room full of odd devices (including what seemed to be a mummy case on a platform that absolutely gave her the willies). Suzi surveyed the room and tried to plan an escape. If she pretended to faint… and broke that container over there – well, it looked to be glass. Then she could pick up a shard and stab --. A sharp pain made her exclaim. A grim stranger in a white coat was pulling a syringe out of her arm.

Everything went dark.

. . .

Suzi was sleeping, dreaming, sleeping. Now the dream because more clear. She was in a car, in the front passenger seat. She was so drowsy she could barely open her eyes. Warm and comfortable. Like some sweet drug was in her system that caressed her nervous system.

She was able to turn her head and look at the driver. A fair-haired and pleasant-faced young man was behind the wheel. He looked lost and was mumbling to himself. There was a sizeable black box down by her feet in the front.

Suzi woke up a little more and began to sit up. The driver didn't seem alarmed by this, even though they were complete strangers. He looked over at her and murmured, "I've lost Highway 9." Or at least she thought he said that. Although his lips hadn't actually moved and he didn't stop driving. They were in the middle of a primitive landscape: slabs of rock, bleached skulls along the roadside, and no sign of any buildings or manmade objects.

What a silly dream this was. Suzi smiled. "It's over there, that way," she told the boy, pointing out the direction.

"Oh," he said, "right!" He made a left turn.

After about 20 minutes, she was able to see the sea, bright and shining in the far distance. All would be well. She felt happy. The young man would be able to find their way now. She felt herself slipping back into the lightest of slumbers, awaiting their arrival at the ocean. Her eyes would occasionally flutter open and then shut again.

As they seemed about to pass some kind of upscale work camp in a jungle-like setting, the vehicle stopped and there were voices arguing.

Suzi fought for awareness but it was terribly hard. She was dimly aware of time passing and finally awoke with a jolt, fully conscious and remembering everything that had transpired at the quasi-producer's home. HOLY CRAP! The car door was open on the passenger side, but she was in the driver's seat. Alone. Instead of being near the ocean, or a work camp in a jungle, the parked car was headed towards a huge gully. There were wild animals in the distance (but not distant enough!).

Suzi stared at the beasts as they prowled, postured, and screamed out challenges at each other. They were not of any species to be found on earth. Holy fucking shit. Time to figure things out later. She didn't know where her driver was or how she came to be in the driver's seat. She scrambled over and slammed shut the passenger door. Thankfully, the car was in working order and she backed out of the gully in a hurry.

The animals seemed more interested in fighting each other than in pursuing her, thus making her escape easy. Soon she pulled to a stop, looking around her helplessly. Where to go, what to do? She had to face the possibility that she was on a different planet. Well, so fucking what? That didn't mean she was going to cave in, going to break down and cry.

She mentally reviewed the foggy memories of the places they had passed. Where was the driver? How had she ended up behind the wheel? There was no way in hell she wanted to go near the place that looked like a prison camp. (She had a really bad feeling about that.)

Taking a deep breath, she did one of her focusing and calming exercises, pulling energy up from the ground to fill her whole body. As she did that, she felt a tremendous power surge through her and she could see her hands were glowing. What was happening now was real and amazing. What was happening was magic. Magic like she had never known it. She felt like she could do anything.

Suzi looked into the distance, gimlet-eyed. She didn't know what the hell was going on, exactly, but she was going to find out and bring these suckers down. She swore it.

Pew, pew!

Pew, pew!​

Simona hated working night shifts. The small convenience store was bordering the outskirts of the town, too far for most public transport -- which meant the young clerk had to walk a few miles after dropping off the closest bus stop. Glen's Stop-By was a popular store for night owls, those who drove through the night between their town and the bigger city half a dozen miles away. They were usually two clerks at night, "just in case", but tonight Simona's coworker had called in sick and no one else had been able to take his place on such short notice. She wasn't too worried though, as things were nearly always quiet, and for all the night shifts she had worked, not once had there been enough commotion to warrant for two night shifters.

Winter was already closing up on them, and tonight was no exception. Glen's Stop-By was in the middle of a whirlwind of snow, with its buddy building Frankendiner, which was also still open, a few yards away. The owner's daughter, Ginny, came over once every couple nights to hang out with them and probably just to eat candy. Loyal to her habit, the little girl came dashing through the door, sounding the doorbell loudly.

"Simoooona!" The cheeky little pest grinned at the clerk, her two front teeth missing. Her boots were untied and her coat was already unzipped by the time Simona stepped out from behind the counter.

"Hey there Ginny! It's just me tonight, Petrov is sick." The woman's voice was gruff and deep, and didn't match her appearance at all. Ginny was probably the only person in the world who didn't think this was odd. "I brought the movie Princess Bride if you wanna watch something." A warm smile spread on the woman's tired face, even reaching her eyes.

The little girl clapped her hands and ran off to grab a chocolate milk bottle. Her father always paid her "tab" at the end of the week, something Simona thought was rather endearing. She pulled out her ratty laptop and pushed the DVD in, and within a few minutes Ginny was sitting comfortably on a case of soda cans, wrapped in a warm blanket. Simona sat next to her, before pulling the girl on her lap, and began brushing her hair. It was thick and black, resonating with the girl's African-American heritage, but the clerk had the delicacy and dexterity to properly braid it. Ginny's father was a widower, and he didn't often have the time to do those little things with his daughter -- especially since she was one of five siblings.

"Hey, Simona?" The girl's voice was quiet, as though she didn't want to disturb the people talking in the movie.

"Yeah?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably. "Why do some customers call you "sir"? You're a girl!" The annoyance and indignation were crystal clear in her voice, which caused Simona to smile despite herself.

"Some people are mean, or don't understand those who are different. It's all right, you don't need to worry about me, little star." She fussed with her braids again, before slipping the small girl back on the boxes.

"Pfft! If they're meanies, I'll just pew pew them!" Ginny made a pouty face, but it didn't last long once she saw Simona giggling and shaking her head. Her shoulders untensed and with a playful shrug, she went back to the movie.

In truth, every time something like this happened, it etched a mark on Simona's confidence. She was a woman for fuck's sake and no one would ever be able to rob her of that. It hadn't come to her attention that Ginny had been aware of those comments, and in truth it tore her to know the kid was worried about her. Those were not matters for a child to be upset about, and once again Simona had after-thoughts about letting her hang out here in the backstore… But she couldn't bring herself to ever refuse to let the kid hang out here. All that was needed was a little bit more backbone, and perhaps a softer voice and a more delicate face… Simona shook her head. No, she couldn't let herself think like this.

For the next hour or so, while Ginny was laughing and watching one of the best movies ever, Simona cleaned up the store. First step was sweeping the floors (which felt quite futile considering how half of it was wet and dirty from the snow), followed by a good mopping. Those were her regular chores -- their manager had insisted she work mostly in the backstore, and do the majority of the cleaning. Sometimes the woman wondered if anyone else ever washed those damn floors; they were always so grimy, and spots she KNEW had been cleaned when her shift ended at 8 AM were somehow covered with badly wiped soda. She had an idea or two as to why this was happening, but she refused to give in to their torments.

The movie was over a bit before Simona finished washing the bathroom. She could hear the young girl repeat some of the catch phrases, and it made her grin again. The little pest was beyond adorable, and it warmed her heart to have the chance to spend time with her. She was any babysitter's dream.

"Simona, the movie's done! Can I play a game now?" Her braided head peeked out from the doorway, but she couldn't find the clerk right away. "Hide-and-seek then!!" She shouted with renewed pep in her step. Just as she got to the front of the store, the bell jingled and a pair of older men walked in. They looked like truckers, or maybe just fat mechanics, but they certainly didn't look like they were in a peppy mood like the young girl.

The taller man eyed the little black girl. "Where's yer dad, lil 'un?" He was slurring badly, and Ginny recognized the smell of liquor, or whatever it was they served at her dad's restaurant to older people. She took a step back and eyed the backstore.

"Um, my dad doesn't work here. Simona works here. SI-MO-NAAA!" She yelled for her friend, and just a few seconds later, the clerk popped out from the bathroom and made her way behind the counter. She ushered Ginny to follow her and smiled politely at the two drunk-looking men. "Welcome to Glen's Stop-By!"

"Hah! That's yer dad, innit?" The second man replied, and both of them laughed throatily and without reserve. Ginny frowned and looked up at Simona, expecting her to tell them off. But she couldn't – they were customers.

"Ha-ha, funny, sir. I'll be here if you need me." Her eyes nervously watched the inebriated men as they headed for the alcohol section. The clock reminded her they had about twenty minutes left before she had to lock down the booze.

Simona regretted her previous musings about how she didn't need a second clerk with her at night. Those men were terrifying her, and she had to think of little Ginny whose mouth wouldn't remain shut at the worst of times. "They're being meanies, Simona. I'm gonna have to pew pew them." The clerk shook her head and brought a finger to her lips, signaling Ginny to keep quiet. In return, a pout spread across her childish face, her dark eyes strangely focusing right through Simona. Those same dark eyes drifted away slowly in direct of the two men, who were still being loud and the taller one even broke a bottle, earning rocky laughter from his mate.

Five minutes before she would have to lock up the alcohol.

Okay, if they wanted an additional minute, she would not legally be allowed to sell them their booze. Hoping they would not berate her, the woman called out at them. "Um, sorry sir, county law says I have to stop alcohol sale in a minute. Let's pay those first and you can continue shopping after!" Her deep voice felt like a stranger's, entirely unrepresentative of what Simona looked and felt like. It was perhaps the most difficult aspect of her transition to accept, but there is was – the lady with a manly voice. Their raucous laughter reached the front of the store and soon enough they were dropping bottles and snacks on the counter.

"Yer a pretty lady. Gotta show later 'night?" More mocking laughs.

"Yeah, yer as hot as my wife! Ha ha ha!" The two men were laughing so hard, tears were peeking out from the corner of their eyes. Simona forced a smile and began scanning their items, looking down and towards Ginny once in a while. The girl had taken out her little plastic gun, and was muttering "Pew, pew, pew" which managed to warm the clerk even just a tiny bit.

"The total will be $40.50." The items were placed in bags rapidly but the men seemed to be lazing around with their payment.

"Y'know what tranny, I think we're good here. Sure you can pay this off for us."

"Yeah, what he said."

Ginny knew that was a bad word, a terrible word. Her father had explained what it meant, and that mean people used it to hurt a trans person. With a frown, she got up from her hiding spot behind the counter and pointed her pink gun at the impolite drunkards.

"That's a BAD word! Say you're sorry, mister!" Her voice was loud and unmistakably childish. The men peered over the counter at her and exploded in even more laughter. Simona's eyes widened and she tried to hush the girl back, trying to grab the toy gun away.

"Oh man, he even has a n***** daughter! Disgusting!"

Simona's cheeks turned bright red, but not because she felt embarrassed. She was fucking pissed now.

"Look sir, either give me the money you owe, or get the fuck out."

"Ohh look at him getting all pissy! He's a pussy a'ight!"

Ginny gritted her teeth and slipped between the older woman's arms to confront the two men. "SHUT UP! Pew pew!" She finger-gunned them angrily, her teeth baring and her other hand trying to reach for her toy gun.

The girl was picked up by Simona again and she pushed her away this time. "Get out or I call the cops."

"Fucking she-man, crossdresser piece of shit! Ha ha ha! With his black bastard daughter, playing mommy!" The taller man chuckled but handed out his money, while the other man kept laughing and holding his sides, as though he was having the greatest time of his life. "Ne'er comin' back here, unless it's to take a piece o'that little black bitch."

Before his friend could reply something else, Simona's fist met with his nose and everyone could hear the loud crunch. Blood splashed everywhere and the man yelled in pain, dropping his bags and clutching his face. The other one looked at Simona, and she could see how pissed off and slightly scared he was. "Fucking crazy bastard! Let's get out of here!"

"That'll be crazy bitch, thank you. If I ever see you here again, the gun won't be a pink toy!" She yelled back at them as they hurried out the door, leaving a trail of red on the freshly cleaned floor. "Fuck…" Simona shook her hand, the adrenaline probably taking care of her soon-to-bruise joints, and she looked at Ginny, preparing an apology. Kids shouldn't hear or see that kind of crap.

"L-look, Ginny, I'm so—"

"OH MY GOD! SIMONA! THAT WAS SO COOL! WOW!" Her face was erased from any kind of anger or fright, instead replaced with admiration and excitement. "YOU WERE SO BADASS!! OH MY GOD DID YOU SEE HIS FACE?!" The little girl was jumping up and down, clapping her hands madly.

"N-no, that was me losing my temper, Ginny. Grownups don't do that."

"YES they DO! Those men were meanies and you TAUGHT THEM GOOD!" Her smile was so sincere, so innocent, that Simona let her shoulders drop and she sighed, hands on her hips and shaking her head.

"We have a mess to clean up now. C'mon, little miss badass."

 

[Gwazi Magnum]

AND THEN THERE'S BLOG AND HOOKERS!

 

[Ravenfrost]

Don't worry cupcake (Gwazi kamikaze), I'm gonna make you look good in a second, here.

"The All-Devouring Pop-Culture Wiki
The wiki is called "TV Tropes" because TV is where we started. Over the course of a few years, our scope has crept out to include other media. Tropes transcend television. They reflect life. Since a lot of art, especially the popular arts, does its best to reflect life, tropes are likely to show up everywhere."

Unlike the last writing contest (A Brush With Death), we had tropes assigned by our masters. I find trope topics difficult to work with. I don't subscribe to television, I watch movies only occasionally, and I find tv tropes confining, often repugnant in their existence, and a potential enemy to originality. Do tropes really "reflect life" (as above?). It seems to be another "one size fits all" piece of salesmanship.

That being said:

Reviews - WARNING - I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL REVIEWER. DANGER! STRONGLY SUGGESTED THAT YOU READ STORIES FIRST BEFORE LOOKING AT THIS if you ever do. (I don't want any tears and squeakings about giving a plot point away.)

# # #​

In Reverse Order:​

"Pew, Pew!"

Crafted well.

The story struck me as a platform for the writer to make a statement about race and gender-identity prejudice and persecution (brought into play with the appearance of unmitigated evil).

Maybe I missed it, but I don't think we were shown one pleasant thing about the adult protagonist's life, aside from their interactions with L.M.B.A. That threw the balance off for me. Maybe at least they could have enjoyed reading in bed at night? Something?


"Now Presenting"

Offbeat.

The author seemed to have written the last part in haste, losing control over sentence structure (such as repeating phrases in close proximity) and not proofreading carefully enough, resulting in erroneous wording ("because" instead of "became" for example) resulting in nonsense.

The genre of the story makes such erratic changes in direction as to potentially cause some readers to become dizzy or develop indigestion. The ending might rightly be viewed as inconclusive to the tidy-minded. (I.e., not recommended for the holistically-inclined.)


"Reflections"

I appreciated the originality of this story.

At the same time it was confusing to me as to what the Dream was really about, including the backstory for it, and it was hard to follow, despite the well-detailed descriptions of individual actions by the characters. The relationship between Beth and Laurel (and Beth's motivations), in and out of the dream, often didn't seem to gel.


"A Date With A Time Traveler"

I'm not sure how tropey this was, but it was a sweet, non-manipulative story and I liked it. ::pets the author::

It could have been even better with more editing.

"Would" is somewhat awkwardly used during the narration of the story when describing character action. Such as "the woman would look up..." "The man would decide to walk off" "the woman would gather"

When actually everything was happening in a present tense: She looked up. He walked off. She gathered.

Good job on creating the atmosphere and follow-through and grats on earning pets!


"The First Mission"

I enjoyed the fast, forward-driving pace and think there is buried talent here, waiting fer a good polishing.

There is an abundance of futuristic techno-military jargon and unrelenting military action. It's hard for me to read a large amount of this type of text. Nothing wrong with it, but a bombardment of statistics or technical information or non-stop military maneuvers makes my mind turn off. Yes, I know. Doh on me.

The main character never appears to have real worries, anxiety or vulnerability displayed. It may make it harder for the reader to get involved.

I have read military-in-space science fiction before and enjoyed it. I'm not against it! "Dorsai!" by Gordon R. Dickson, for example. I will never forget the attack on Newton (neither did Newton). If the author of The First Mission would ever like to widen their audience to entice cave people like me, they might want to take a look at this book to see what I'm talking about. Excerpt below:

Blue Patrol Chief Lludrow tells Acting Captain Donal Graeme the following:

"Newton maintains a steady screen of 90 ships of the first class, in defensive orbit around it. I can give you five."

"Five!" said Donal. He felt a small crawling sensation down his spine. He had, before Lludrow turned him down the first time, worked out rather carefully what could be done with Newton and how a man might go about it. His plan had called for a lean and compact little fighting force of 30 first-class ships in a triangular organization of three sub-patrols, ten ships to each.

(Oh and what he does with those five ships!)


"Red River Retribution"

Poetic, creative, original writing. (Just a note, that twice it was said the main character was a teenager, and twice a pre-teen, and also noted as a child. At least I think so.)


"Nika In Ten"

No quibble with the writing quality. The countdown to ten was a bit long to hang with, but a decent device.

The female character is da-da-dangerously close to the edge of Mary Sueing. But hey. This is for the trope. Our kingdom for a trope. Ain't that Mary Sue country? Or at least bordering it?

As the story progressed, it got to a point where it felt like the author was deliberately going for the Triple Crown by winning the "Tweaking Your Emotions Derby." Wasn't it enough that the heroine had (done this) and then (suffered this) and don't forget about (this)?

Nope. Not enough. Not! Not! Not!

If you're not @Jorick, you'll prob. be tearing up. But I don't like authors that want to play with my emotions. I tend to hunt them down and ....


"Shakespeare Would Be Embarassed"

Talent here, but I couldn't keep up with the back and forth.

And then. I don't think it was supposed to make as much sense as I was trying to elicit during most of the story. ::shakes fist:: More dead brain cells through wasted effort. You'll hear from my lawyer.

I think I would have liked the Anne-Beth-Clara story on its own.


"Hated Fairytale of Tropes"

"Once upon a time, there was a guy. The guy's name was Everyman Smith, and Everyman hated everyone. They were all too stupid."

That's the beginning of this long tale. Nothing for me to add here.


"Time and Time Again"

Another poetic creative writer. Some nice imagery. Although it sometimes seemed like this story was more like a draft of a story. There were several places with strange sentence structure such as:

"Eventually they got to the destination, all with their fair share of scares and horrors only they had to see."

 

[Krieg]

Let us get to cracking, shall we? I would like to say beforehand that my reviews are of my own opinion and wish all of the most success in the field of writing, whether it be a casual hobby like roleplaying or something more serious such as professional publishing and whatnot. At the end of day, this is a fun event that I think the community and individual benefits from as a whole. I will try to be both diligent and constructive with my criticism, thank you. Also, I tend to be more positive with my reviews.

For this post, we will have the first five, I will do the rest of them later on in the week : )
​

Time and Time Again
I really like the concept of this "loop", it is certainly mystical and oddly having a spice of horror at least from my perspective. It makes the reader think, and what I like most, makes the reader read again, to enforce investment into the tale. Time and loops are a soft spot for me, so I enjoyed this one immensely. However, it is not without some flaws. Some of the sentences seem awkwardly structured, for example, starting a sentence with "Eyes closed, blahblahblah". I feel as though you broke up sentences that didn't need to be broken up. Outside of that, if I had to offer any other constructive criticisms, watch the use of commonly used adjectives and actions. A lot of "sighing" for example can be a bit dreary to read.

Overall though, out of this bunch? Not bad in concept, execution needs work, keep honing it up, I see some potential here.

Hated Fairytale of Tropes
This is one of the more confusing entries as I'm unsure of really what to say about this. I know I'm trying to be objective here, but I couldn't really get into this tale without eventually straying off into boredom whilst reading it. Which is a shame, the writing is good, albeit it is rather straightforward (which can be good, too many flowery language is sometimes not recommended. For this one he could of done a little sprucing up), but there never felt like there was a "hook" to it. I felt like I was missing metaphorical sentences or something. Maybe I'm just dumb and can't see the parody this one was going for.

Also, awkward groping scene? Aww yeaaaah.

Shakespeare Would Be Embarrassed
This one is interesting, the backdrop of an audience and the duality of two stories is ambitious. The reader is left wondering about this backdrop of some technologic, futuristic setting with holographic stages n' stuff. It is interesting, I'll admit, but eventually I feel like the ambition behind this couldn't match the execution properly. Sentences were nice for the most part, albeit dialogue could sometimes be simple, but things felt too clustered in here. If there was no word limits and no time pressure I could see this being potentially amazing, but I feel like I'm reading something that has been compressed if that makes sense.

Otherwise, creative, original, and bold. I like it, just be sure to give it a few re-reads and put yourself in the shoes of the reader. Also, know when to say to yourself, "is this worth exploring, should I cut something out, should I make something else separated?"

Nika in Ten
My previous colleague above me summed up my feelings actually pretty well with this. The countdown is a good device, and whilst the character is Mary Sue-ish, I can excuse it for the theme and duality of this trope (even all the black boots and pointy daggers, the good ol' fashion rogue look whatwhat). The emotional impact was good, although at times it does feel a bit "hamfisted" if you will. It reminds of Elfen Lied and how everyone around the main cast are literally the worst possible fucking people ever. EVER. EVEEER.

Ahum, but anyways, I enjoyed it immensely, just work on some of character development devices. The writing is solid and smooth, but make the characters feel like their suffering n' agony n' stuff is more natural. Give them life, even in the context of a trope.

Red River Retribution
The use of an historical setting in the frontier of the Americas is a welcome era to explore. The writing has a few mistakes here and there, such as the author either deliberately or accidentally calling the protagonist both a teenager and a pre-teen. It can be jarring, but overall it doesn't detract much from the experience. Plot devices such as the conversations of before are nice, giving a unique way of presenting characters in a short story. Transitions throughout the story can seem a bit too coincidental, giving off the impression the author struggled to piece the story together. The ending is ambiguous, however, it does leave the reader wanting more, which is a nice (albeit cop out) touch.

All-in-all, not bad at all. Could use more polish to be something really great.


​

 

[HerziQuerzi]

Rating scale: Very Negative; Negative; Slightly Negative; Neutral; Slightly Positive; Positive; Very Positive

Time and Time again - Negative

• Far too many adjectives and adverbs, in my opinion. Story and pacing are lost between an endless stream of descriptors.
• Tense changes between present and past throughout.
• Oddly, the crux+climax of the story (the quest and final fight) are the most rushed part of the story. It's what the story is centered around, but the reader isn't given much about what is actually happening.
  • Generally, the more important something is, the more time you should spend on it. And the reverse is also true; if something is filler or transition, then the story shouldn't dwell on it.

Hated Fairytale of Tropes - Slightly Negative

• The story uses exaggeration and absurdity in story elements, but beyond that doesn't seem to actually be aiming for a comedic tone.
• How does Everyman not notice the other skeletons + troll if he's in an open field?
• Sentence structure lacks variety. The majority are "{He/She} {action}, {result of action}", used back to back.
  • Experimenting with sentence structure and using different lengths/formatting for them helps keep the reader interested and when done well, does wonders for increasing flow on a micro level (one line transitioning smoothly into another), as well as improving pacing on the macro level (controlling the speed and tension of the story via narration).
• Dialogue feels organic and like people actually talking. Kudos for that.
• It's never explained why Everyman also has Overlord's ability to absorb powers.
• The narration suddenly zooms out during the supposedly epic showdown between Everyman and Waif, rendering the fight into little more than a sidenote.

Shakespeare would be embarrassed - Very Negative

• Narration is incredibly chaotic, making it hard to follow.
  • A matryoshka doll of plots is something that has a decent amount of potential, but it takes a lot of work to turn it into a positive rather than a negative.
• Characterization is flat, and in Yolene's case inconsistent.
• If something like a play is meant to be terrible within the confines of the story, one has to work twice as hard to make sure it isn't bad for the reader, making it a dangerous tool to try and utilize.
• The final last-second-additional layer seemed unnecessary.

Nika in Ten - Neutral

• The first/second/third/etc thought framework feels weird to me when it's happening over the course of months. It's a framework that's meant to be used for first impressions, not months of companionship.
• A lot of the stuff that's supposed to pull at the reader's emotions happens before Nika has been properly fleshed out into a character we can grow attached to, and retroactive emotional impact is rarely as strong as immediate.
• Similarly, it's hard to attach meaning to the finale when 2/3rds of the relationship are basically blank slates in terms of characterization.
• Good sentence flow and clarity of events.

Red River Retribution - Slightly Positive

• Switches between present and past tense within sentences.
• Flashback quotes in the first section are jarring flow wise, and are more confusing than context-providing.
• Description wanders into purple prose territory in a few places, but is otherwise handled well.

The First Mission - Very Negative

• Minor thing, but there isn't much to be gained from replacing understandable measurements of time with arbitrary techno-versions.
  • A short story shouldn't require a glossary of terms
• Having multiple characters dialogue in a single paragraph is generally a no-go, as it can often lead to confusion.
  • Also, in general, I feel like the flow and pacing of this piece could be improved with more liberal paragraph breaks.
• The battle against the Hudde's probably could've been one continuous scene insted of being split apart into three distinct sections.
• Tendency towards run-on sentences. The longer the average sentence is, the more liable a reader's attention is to start drifting off partway through.
• Dialogue is clunky and robotic.

A Date with a Time Traveler - Negative

• Dialogue often falls into the uncanny valley of almost-but-not-quite organic sounding.
• A lot of the adjectives seemed shoe-horned in, resulting in a staggered flow from sentence to sentence.
• Personally, I am... not a fan of a piece of punctuation being given an entire paragraph. It comes across as unpolished.
  • Combined with a lot of one-word/one-sentence paragaphs, and the story has a lot of unnatural stalls.

Reflections - Neutral

• The... recruitment, I guess would be the best way to put it, in the first flashback sequence feels awkward and rushed.
• Laurel and Beth are shown to be enemies in the first flashback sequence, then friends in the dream sequence immediately following that, but the only section that shows them bonding inbetween those two points of time is all the way in the second-to-last sequence.
• Origin of the Dream is only partially explained, and even then in vague terms.
• Ending feels very rushed and half-formed.

Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady - Slightly Positive

• Red River Retribution already used the Hudson River, making this entry a cheap knock off.
  • This Is Not A Legitimate Criticism
  • A story within a story? Stealing from Shakespear would be embarrassed, are we?
  • Magical girls and dreams? A transparent recreation of Reflections.
• I'm personally not a fan of casual-sounding narration (especially when using semi-omniscient third person), but it is handled well here.
• Dialogue sounds like actual people talking.
• Feels clunky whenever the Actual Magic Stuff enters the story (the shared dream, the 'interview' with Vor, etc).
• Having a short story 'end' be set up as a jumping board for a theoritical continued story is fine, but on it's own should still have rising action, climax, and denounement. This story has the rising action in form of the aliens and magic being revealed, but lacks a proper climax.

Pew, pew! - Positive

• Nice characterization
• Natural sounding dialogue
• Transition from climax to end could probably be extended and smoothed out a bit.
• Some inconsistencies, such as the men making a daughter remark in regards to Ginny when they first enter, then bring it up again as a new realization during the payment.

 

[Turtle of Doom]

Pew Pew

· Very emotional, well written. It was great, but as somebody else said this appeared to be used as a platform. I also don't think it fit the theme of this month very well. It was an interesting peek into one night in this person's life though. Hopefully not a typical night.

Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady

· Overall, I thought this was good. It felt like the story was rushed, and nothing that was happening was going to matter in a second anyway and I found it hard to stay on track because of that. There were a few places where some awkward words were used, and some irregularly structured sentences, but beyond that it was good. I think it could be better, and I think that if you took some time to polish it and fill in some of the gaps in the story it would be great.

Reflections

· Wow. I loved this. The idea, the execution, all of it. It was wonderful. There were several instances where the sentence structure was a bit awkward, but beyond that, well done!

A Date with a Time-Traveler

· I liked this story. It was so sweet, and I did care about the characters so for me that's a huge bonus. The concept was really good, and while there are some issues with sentence structure, grammar and word choice I think this was done well. Avoid future tenses and passive voice, it is really distracting for the reader.

First Mission

· I have so much to say about this. It's very fast-paced, and the action is good. The science is a little off though, and I am one of those people that believe if you're going to use terms and tech we already possess you need to use them accurately. I had no feelings or cares toward the main character, and I really wanted to. She had no feelings though. No motivation beyond orders and conveyed nothing. As I mentioned for somebody else, I think that you would do well to read your work out loud before submitting, it's easier to hear the misplaced words that way.

Red River Retribution

· Overall, this was well done and well executed. It would probably do you well to read what you've written out loud when proofing, but beyond that well done.

Nika in Ten

· It was a good idea, but one I felt could have been executed better. I still felt nothing for any of the characters by the end. Not Nika, not her partner, not their third (especially not him). I know most of what happened between them was not discussed, but there was no build. Nothing to keep me reading. The writing was also really tell-y. There wasn't a lot of showing happening, and I think that prevents the reader from getting engrossed in the story. You had a few errors in sentence structure and phrasing, but overall it wasn't too terrible.

Shakespeare Would Be Embarrassed


· This whole thing would have been better written in a close third person. The idea that the "dolls" are actually more like "puppet masters" controlling the characters on stage is a good one, but the ideas are poorly described. Forcing psyches into several characters, the images overlaying their actual appearance. If these things were true then it wouldn't matter how old a performer got, it would only matter about the talent. So "washed up" and "needing to retire" wouldn't be an issue. The play within a play was confusing and didn't actually add anything to the story. If anything it just irritated me and gave an excuse for the characters to be dicks to each other without having any actual depth themselves. It was a great idea; I just think it could have been better executed. I would love to see how this would turn out without time or word limit restrictions.

Hated Fairytale of Tropes

Well written, could use some polishing, but overall it was done well enough. You should try to vary your word choice and maybe think about shorter paragraphs. It was annoying to read, but I think that might have been the idea. Smashing so many tropes into one story was too much for me, I think. I also kind of felt like I was reading an anime.

Time and Time Again

· Overall, the premise of this story is very good. It's intriguing and I think with a little bit more time dedicated to it you can make it wonderful. There are a lot of places where you don't have enough details and places where the details are unnecessary.

I also have more detailed critiques if any of you are interested.

 

[Jorick]

Alright folks, time for the official announcement of winners!​

MISC Community Pick
It was pretty close and sat tied for a while, but in the end the voters chose a single winner:

@Pahndæmonium with the entry "Pew, pew!"

Our first staff member to win and there wasn't even any nepotism involved!

MISC Managers' Pick
We discussed the merits and weak spots of the entries, and in the end we agreed that one stood out above the others:

@HerziQuerzi with the entry "Reflections"

This makes HerziQuerzi the first two time winner and so far the only winner of the Managers' Pick! Damn it man, calm down and let others have a chance in the spotlight. :P


Prizes will be distributed soon, and reviews from the MISC Managers should be posted in the near future. Everyone who wrote an entry can now reveal themselves and respond to critiques if they so choose.Thanks to everyone who entered, voted, and wrote (or is writing) reviews, this contest would be worthless without your participation. <3

MISC will return in January. Keep your eye out for the Writer Showcase Soiree's challenges for December!​

 

[Astaroth]

Congrats to the winners and good job to everyone who participated!

I had a bit of IRL stuff over the weekend that interfered with me finishing my reviews before winners were announced. I'll be posting them ASAP.

 

[Greenie]

Congrats, winners! :D *throws confetti in the air*

It was a hard choice for me, to be honest, since the topic and tropes isn't something I usually read. Funnily enough, I voted for Red River Retribution. I am not really an American history buff, so the fact that it held me from start to the end was impressive. There was also the simplicity of the story that got to me, as well as the small flashbacks to the old man. It was touching. As a couple other mentioned, there was the word teenage and preteen written, but it didn't really deter from the story, at least not for me.

I'll be looking forward to January!

 

[Pahn]

Thanks to everyone who voted, and if anyone has additional feedback for Pew, Pew I welcome it with open arms :D

 

[Krieg]

Thank you for everyone voting for Red River Retribution, I'm humbled and grateful to just get one vote. Thank you, readers ^_^! I will hopefully finish my peer reviews by Wednesday night, I have an exam tomorrow. Likewise, any additional feedback or suggestions for me, let me know!

 

[Jorick]

Took me a while to finish putting my simple notes into this rubric format, but my reviews are now ready. I'm using a slightly modified version of the managers rubric with a couple questions removed because I had basically nothing of value to say for either of them for any entry. I think I made up for it in lengthy answers to other questions though, so I doubt they will be missed.

Oh, and one last thing: disproportionate attention is paid to negative points because that is how constructive criticism works. I've tried to highlight positive points in every entry to show that even the ones I have the most criticism for are not just garbage in my eyes, but out of necessity the positives are going to look thin compared to the negatives. Becoming a better writer requires facing your flaws and fixing them, so try not to take anything personally. If you've got any questions or complaints about my reviews, please feel free to voice them here or in a private message to me. :)

Time and Time Again

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

I noticed a few typos in the very first paragraph, as well as a switch from past tense to present tense. There were also multiple instances of run-on sentences and commas placed where they did not need to be. Dialogue did not follow proper grammar rules of punctuation to clearly separate speech from non-speech text, but applying text colors to the dialogue made up for that. These issues continued throughout the piece and disrupted the flow of the reading repeatedly, but they were only slight pauses that didn't ruin the story.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

The punctuation usage wasn't fantastic (run-on sentences, improper comma usage, and dialogue punctuation problems as noted above), but sentence structure and word choice were both reasonably varied. There were a couple places where words were used too often (such as 'grimaced' twice in one small paragraph), but it wasn't ever a major problem.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

The part with the fight was confusing, and I had to read it over a few times before I understood what was going on. It felt like too much stuff was packed into one paragraph, which was very sparse on the details. Everything else was pretty clear.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

There was a decent narrative voice at the beginning, then it sort of fell apart before returning for the last couple paragraphs. Seems like it got lost amongst the plain description of actions that took up the middle portion of the story.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

There were a couple places that were written to give a good bit of flow, such as the last sentence of the second paragraph. The bulk of the piece did not seem to have deliberate choices made for flow.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

There are a few spots of vivid description, and again that last sentence of the second paragraph is a good example, but unfortunately the detail was lacking in some places that really needed it (like the battle scene).

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

It was short enough that I did not resort to skimming, but it did not grab my interest very well. There wasn't much of a hook and there was precious little detail given about the main character so I never felt reason to care about what happened to her.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

No, the dialogue is quite flat and gives no real indication of personality.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Not really. Linna shows some depth of emotion, but she is not particularly complex. There's a faint hint of motivation for Linna at the end of the story, but up until then she just seems to be going along with whatever. I feel like I still have no idea who this girl is. Abell seemed like a plot device rather than a character because there was nothing to give the character depth.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Sure. The world seems to be a fantasy land of some kind, and Linna is some sort of magic user while Abell is a warrior I think? It's hard to be certain, but nothing I saw made them seem out of place in the world. I'm sure if the story were to be expanded then they would fight right in with the world.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Not particularly. I ended the story feeling like I had learned nothing about the characters and it was still unclear why Linna agreed to help these people when she knew it would take months to get wherever they were going.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Aside from the mild confusion about Linna's decisions, as noted above, I have no emotions about the characters and they did not catch my interest.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

I think this one is a no. Seems like a generic fantasy world with a generic quest plot.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Nope.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Ehhhh, hard to say. Given the general lack of details I'm hard pressed to figure out which trope was intended to be used here. Linna could have been a mystical waif subverted into being the protagonist rather than fulfilling the usual secondary role, or she could have been meant as a little miss badass, I'm just not sure. Abell, if I'm right about her being a warrior type, could have been a little miss badass. If I'm right about either, then the prompt was used as intended, no deviation at all really.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

No, and I think this is the main issue that caused a lot of other problems I noted. This piece just felt incomplete in a lot of ways, like it was a first draft that was intended to go through a lot of revision.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There is a plot and there is story advancement, sure. I don't think the characters accomplished anything because it sounded like the fight was a failure, and I'm not sure if Linna learned anything at all.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

The story really does not flow very well from point to point. Linna is randomly creeping on a camp, then runs home and takes a bath and such, then random visitors ask for her help, then she just immediately agrees and goes on a months long journey, then the other people die horribly, then she ends up at the same place as the start of the story and creeps on another set of people. It has a clear progression of events, but it all starts to break down after the going home bit, probably because there is a lack of known character motivation to show why Linna would go help these people. Nothing is really out of place, it just needs more to explain and really connect it all.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

Well, it is definitely a complete story, there is a clear beginning, middle, and end. It is not a satisfying ending though, for the reasons already mentioned above.

Overall

There was a lot of potential in this story, but it just fell short in a lot of places. There were hints of cool things going on, but there was so little detail given about pretty much everything that they remain hints only rather than being fully fleshed out. That's the overall feeling I got from this entry: it could have been great, it just needed some more detail and work.

Hated Fairytale of Tropes

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

Some, but not a ton, and not enough to detract from the story.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

The sentence structure throughout was not as varied as I would have liked, lots of portions where many middling sized simple sentences followed one after another. Punctuation was overall good and there was a nice variety of words used, though in a few places there was some repetition that should have been avoided (like 'swung' being used three times in as many sentences when Everyman fought the first skeleton).

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

Everything was pretty clear and easy to follow. Even the fight scenes were fine in that regard, and that's not always easy to accomplish.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

Based on the title and the start of the story, the narrative voice that I latched onto in my mind was sort of a disgruntled old man from England. For some reason my mind likes to go for the stereotypical English accent for fairytale type things, and the sort of "alright, lets's get on with this shit" tone of the writing seeped in. I don't think that was exactly what was intended for narrative voice, but the vibe I was getting from the writing stayed pretty consistent through the piece.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

No, there did not seem to much much of an attempt at flow. A lot of the story was choppy to read because of repeated short and simple sentences.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

Yeah, there was plenty of description, lots of stuff was easy to picture.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

The whole "this guy is a cynical asshole who wants to be a hero" bit caught my attention because I am a cynical asshole myself and that is a pretty accurate description of a character I made for a roleplay that I had a lot of fun with. The setup that marked this story as an attempt to parody/deconstruct tropes also grabbed me. I was interested the whole way through.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The characters are mostly distinct. The three thugs not so much, but they each had enough to make them stand out from each other. The dialogue felt forced a lot of the time, especially in the few instances of flat exposition delivered by speech. I'd say roughly half and half between smooth, natural dialogue and forced feeling dialogue.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Everyman had a fair amount of depth delivered right at the very start, and he stayed consistent in his behaviors and motivations throughout. The thugs were pretty flat, but their two dimensional character traits were pretty easy to pick up and understand. The Sorcerer guy didn't have much time, but he managed to exposition himself into giving at least a basic idea of what he's about, although it was not very complex at all. Waif was kind of a mess though. She had a decent level of complexity by the end, but the sense of who she is and what she wants brought me to one conclusion: she's fucking stupid. "I wanna do the chaos and destroy all the things because... reasons!" I'll complain about her more in the section about the ending of the story. :P

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Sure. High fantasy setting is perfectly suitable for a knight, a few thugs, an evil dickhead sorcerer, and a crazy monster-summoning girl.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Everyman's decisions through most of the story seemed pretty reasonable and in line with his established character traits. That fell apart at the end where he went from "I wanna be a hero" to "okay sure I guess I can be an evil overlord type and help this chick conquer the universe." I learned that Everyman is a sappy idiot who lets his entire life motivation get swayed by the lure of pussy, because his whole nonsense plan does not at all make him a good guy and only makes sense if he's prioritizing keeping this chick alive over doing good things. I already complained about learning that Waif is actually Chaotic Stupid alignment by D&D terms, and as much as I would like to note that the whole "we need a party.. okay now let's leave them behind to fight" thing was dumb and made no sense, I do have to note that it makes perfect sense if you look at her in the dull and unflattering light of chaotic stupidity.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Everyman was not exactly a likable character, what with his introduction being "hey this guy is a cynical asshole," but he was interesting to me. Waif never caught my interest, nor did the others. I have strong negative emotions toward those two because of the ending.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

The setting seemed pretty standard high fantasy fare, but I do have to give props for the plot being out of the ordinary. Taking the classic hero's journey and turning it into the rise of an evil couple was amusing.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

The various subverted tropes were interesting twists, though I was not exactly surprised by them since the start of the story made me expect it to happen throughout the piece.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Yep, it fits the prompt just fine, the tropes were used and twisted.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Mostly. I feel like the whole ending was not really thought through, but pretty much everything else seems to have been given some thought.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There is a clear plot with a sense of advancement, and the characters do accomplish things.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

Honestly the whole thing with getting a party felt hugely unnecessary. That was a lot of text real estate to devote to three characters who almost immediately got ditched for a silly plot reason. Everyman and Waif could have just as easily stumbled exhausted into town and then had to flee in the middle of the night when the army of monsters attacked, no need for the thugs, just seeing a clash and knights of the realm holding the baddies at bay. The party stuff made the story drag on in the middle.

Oh, also, on the subject of things making sense or not: how the hell did Everyman get Sorcerer's power absorption power? Sorcerer said he gained the ability to steal other people's powers, then tried to smash Everyman with a superpowered blast... but Everyman just somehow managed to avoid that and kill the dude despite all his previous attacks being deflected? That's a bit of nonsense. And then suddenly he gained the power absorbing ability, along with the portion of Waif's power that had been taken? How? It makes no sense and feels like a deus ex machina move.

Also, now that I think about it, how the fuck did Waif think a handful of thugs would help against Sorcerer when he was able to easily hold off her and Everyman until deus ex machina struck? So many questions, so few answers.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

As you should have already guessed, I am not satisfied by this ending. It was a complete story in the sense that it was given finality and closure, but it leaves me annoyed rather than actually satisfied. Waif's entire goal was to get her evil powers back so she could destroy everything, which is really stupid, but she went through all the trouble to try to accomplish her goal only to be dissuaded by a couple minutes of talking. Everyman wanted to be a hero but he came up with this ridiculous scheme to basically join forces with Waif for the sake of taking over the world.. even after he had reached the conclusion that taking over the world wouldn't actually be a good thing. Also, the whole romance angle felt completely shoehorned rather than something that actually made any sense at all, like the only slight hint toward anything of that nature before the ending scene was that brief thing in their second night of camping that was closer to sexual assault than a budding romance. It felt like that deus ex machina that struck to allow Everyman to kill Sorcerer also had the unintentional side effect of making everyone in the room lose their damn mind.

Overall

While I did spend a lot of time ranting about negative points, I actually did like this entry for the most part. The writing was fine, the basic premise of the story was interesting, and I quite liked the way you manipulated a lot of the tropes you used. It ended up feeling like a cracked mashup between a hero's journey style fairytale and a crazy anime vibe (and not just because of Waif wearing Japanese clothing and the waifu jokes at the end), and that was both weird and amusing in a way that worked for me. The stuff that brought it down for me was the odd choice to gather a party before casting them off quickly and the way everything went off the rails near the end, but I'd still call it an overall enjoyable read.

Shakespeare would be embarrassed

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

Few typos and errors noticed, no effect on the story and such.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

Just a couple punctuation mistakes here and there, but everything else was spiffy in this category.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

The beginning bit was very confusing. It went from Xera talking directly to the reader and then jumps right into things happening. This one of the problems you face when using first person perspective in the present tense: it's very uncommon and can be disorienting to readers, and that's the case even without having the fourth wall breaking bits directed at the audience/reader.

There was also a lot of confusion in the beginning because literally nothing was explained about the mechanics of this technology, and in fact it's never even specifically noted as a technological rather than magical thing until after the play-within-a-play ends.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

There is a very clear narrative voice and it is consistent. It's hard to not get a voice out of first person perspective that speaks to the reader, haha.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

Yep, seems like the author made a lot of specific choices for flow, particularly in the first paragraph and the fourth wall breaking bits.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

The characters and both of the scenes in the play-within-a-play got decent description to start with that allowed for easy mental picturing, but there was next to zero description for other things.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

I was more confused than captivated, but wanting answers to what the hell all the weird stuff is about was plenty to keep me reading.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The characters are all pretty distinct, but the dialogue is often clunky. The wall-breaking asides actually feel more like normal speech than a lot of the lines of dialogue.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Xera and Yolene both have some depth and motivation, but the characters in the play-within-a-play are rather one dimensional. That can be forgiven since they were supposed to be kind of crappy.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

I suppose so. It was hard to tell if the play-within-a-play was supposed to be in some high fantasy setting or if Clara the angel was an extreme oddity in a low fantasy setting, but if it was the former then Anne was odd for totally dismissing the idea of angels. Again, that's excusable because that part was supposed to be a mess. The other characters all seemed to fit into their settings.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

The ABC characters were all pretty crap for reaching reasonable conclusions, but that was sort of the point so it's fine. Yolene's choice to fuck with Xera seems logical if you accept that she's a psychotic diva bitch rather than a rational person, and we do learn about her through those actions. Xera's choice to just be like "oh, you basically tried to mentally torture me but that's fine it was fun let's be BFFs now" was not so reasonable, but I'm leaning toward saying it made sense for her character since she seemed a little off kilter to begin with.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Beth and Clara were neither likable nor interesting. Xera and Anne were both though. Yolene was just interesting but not likeable. Call it 50% credit on this one, haha. No strong emotions toward the characters, but some mild confusion about Xera and amusement at Anne's brash nature.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

The play-within-a-play setting seemed fairly generic fantasy, but everything else seemed pretty neat. The plot of the play-within-a-play was intentionally kind of garbage, but the main play about Xera and Yolene was nice. The setting of the super high tech holographic stage stuff was interesting and imaginative.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Just with the already mentioned neat holographic play stuff. It felt like a new twist on old ideas like the Star Trek Holodeck, taking the whole entertainment aspect of holographic technology and throwing it into stage plays with weird mind-splitting stuff to account for one actor playing multiple characters.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Yeah, hits multiple tropes and seems to play them pretty straight. No deviation.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Ehh, hard to say. I give a lot of leniency here because the story was presented as a play being written by a novice, and then a play-within-a-play being written by someone who sucks, so that can excuse a lot of the iffy ideas thrown in there. However, there are issues with the basic premise that make me question how long the author thought about them. For instance, if there is this badass holographic technology that can respond to pure thought to create and manipulate settings as shown in the story, why exactly is there a need for actors to be on stage and why the mind splitting weirdness? The entire thing could be done by making the characters into plain holographic things handled by those in the control booth, and the entire show could be done with said control booth and some voice actors back stage. Also, the whole thing in the first level of the play about Xera and Yolene being dolls was weird and made no sense as presented, didn't add anything but confusion to the story.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

The play-within-a-play has a plot that advances, but they don't accomplish or learn a damn thing. Xera and Yolene in the first level of the play are fine, plot advancement and accomplishment and learning and such. The reality layer manages to smush in a little bit of advancement stuff at the very end too.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

It does not flow seamlessly at all. Part of that is obviously intentional for the sake of the plot, but other points (like the odd transition from the first paragraph to the second) seem to be unintended flaws. Aside from bits I've already mentioned feeling unnecessary, honestly the whole last bit adding the reality layer should not have been a thing; it would have been a better story if the reconciliation between Xera and Yolene had been more fleshed out and that had been the real world layer. It was essentially one of those "it was all a dream" endings, and that never feels good.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

It feels like a complete story with a lame epilogue tacked on. The ending bit of Xera and Yolene was rushed but adequate, but the stuff after that was not satisfying at all.

Overall
This story was a strange one to read, but I'd say it was alright overall. The ending of a story gets a lot of weight for how a reader feels walking away from it, and that ending was not a good one in my opinion. I enjoyed reading it, it just ended on an unfortunate sour note.

Nika in ten

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

The writing was solid, few typos and they weren't a problem.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

Ditto the above, it was all good here.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There were a few things that confused me, but one is a character issue I'll bring up later on. The total lack of names in the story was a strange choice; it was fine until you threw in the "third" and referred to him a few times as "our third," because that's a strange pronoun to use and I stumbled in reading it a couple times. Another point of confusion came from the presentation of the story in the ten points. The beginning makes it sound like these are the very first ten thoughts the nameless narrator had about Nika, but then it's made clear these are just ten major things rather than the first ten; going from points one and two that happened one after the other to the orphan scene was strange and I had to reread things to understand what the intent of the ten points actually was.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

Yeah, there's a narrative voice all throughout it, but it's pretty muted and mundane. Not much of a sense of personality in it.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

Yep, the writer knew what they were doing. The flow of some parts were abruptly interrupted by the switch to the next scene, but that was also clearly intentional so it's fine.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

The description was rather lacking. The only bits of clear imagery I remember getting from this were an assassin lady in form-fitting clothes (which I probably only pictured because I'm a perv rather than because it was vividly described) and the mutilated child. There was a lot of description of actions, but very little to describe the visuals in further detail.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

The numbering of thoughts about Nika was enough to keep my interest and make me wonder what it was all building up to. Each of the scenes were pretty short and the frequent changes did a good job of warding off reader boredom.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

There is no dialogue in this entry, so this cannot be effectively answered.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

This entire entry was basically about introducing and developing the character of Nika, so yes, she has plenty of complexity and depth and her motivations seem obvious by the end of it. The narrator has very flat characterization and I ended up with no idea who he was aside from a guy who liked this girl who also does something with potions. Third guy had almost zero characterization.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Sure, assassin and potion guy totally fit in a medieval setting.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Again, there isn't much learning to be done about anyone but Nika, but most of the sections of this story are about showing her actions that explain some character trait the narrator has noticed. However, the decision/conclusions revolving around this third person who is brought in with the eighth point seem sketchy, particularly the ending bit with the romance, and this is the confusing character thing I mentioned above. She'd taken all this time to get to trust the narrator, but third guy shows up and does one job well and suddenly Nika trusts him equally to the narrator (and apparently narrator is cool with him too) and ends up in some threeway relationship after a party? Very odd.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Narrator and third are flat and nothing is presented to make me like or care about them. Nika hits both notes, and there's the bonus sad feels for her apparently traumatic childhood. If this were some longer story or show or whatever presented in the normal fashion I could easily see her becoming a character I like a lot, but this speechless vignette style presentation doesn't actually do much to build strong emotions.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

Not so far as I saw. Everything looked like it could have fit perfectly into any number of medieval settings.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Nope, it was all pretty much by the book. Badass lady with a tragic childhood is a very common character type.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

It's all about a Little Miss Badass, so it totally fits.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Sort of. There's one or two things I'll go over below, but this seems like the right place to address the format. It doesn't seem like the implementation of the one to ten count was really thought through. It added a loose structure to the story, but it didn't really go anywhere. It's one of the simplest and most straightforward ways to build up some kind of expectation, just counting up to a designated number, and then... nothing exciting really happens. The total lack of character development for the narrator (meaning a total lack of reader investment in the character) means that the romance thing at the end falls totally flat. I have no reason to root for this guy to get with the assassin chick, so it doesn't feel like any sort of climactic moment, it's just.. the place you happened to decide to end things because you reached the end of your count. I was expecting it to end with something big, like this being the narrator reminiscing about his lost love, but instead of a bang it ended with a fizzle, and part of that was because an expectation was built up with the counting.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There's a plot that advances, but the only thing that seems to be learned is narrator guy learning about Nika, and the only real personal accomplishments for any characters seems to be the threeway relationship at the end.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

It does not flow seamlessly in the traditional way, but the counting up to ten made the abrupt cuts between scenes feel fine since they became expected rather than surprising. The entire addition of the third person feels unnecessary and only drags what could have been an okay romance finale down into a confusing romance finale. That entire trust portion could have been done in a different way, something that shows how Nika trusts the narrator specifically (because trusting him on getting this guy in on the job even though the narrator notes a lack of trust for third guy was weird) and builds their relationship more, and it would have been a significant improvement.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

I suppose it counts as a complete story since it was the journey from meeting to relationship. The ending is not satisfying though, mainly for the two reasons I already mentioned: the weird third wheel addition and the lack of an impactful finish on the count up to ten.

Overall

I liked this entry. The ending and lack of character development for anyone but Nika were disappointing, but everything else was pretty solid. The series of vignettes was an interesting way to present this story and allowed you to show stuff over a much longer period of time than would have been feasible otherwise, so kudos to you for doing something different than standard prose.

Red River Retribution

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

There were a couple typos, but nothing major. Commas got a little overused as well, but again that wasn't a massive problem.

However, there were a lot of places where some very odd verb form choices were made, like this point a few paragraphs in: "Adrenaline coursed through her veins, Eliza gulping unsteadily..." 'Eliza gulping unsteadily' feels very weird, like you were referring to someone else with the 'her' and then switched to talking about Eliza. Verbs directly referring to a subject should not be just like "Bob jumping," it should always be "Bob was/is jumping" instead. In the example sentence I pulled out of your work, you should have had the lead-in bit about adrenaline use the -ing form; those sorts of dependent clauses attached to the start of sentences can use the -ing form just fine because they give context and are talking about things occurring to the subject, not actions taken by the subject. It's a sort of complicated syntax issue that I'm not sure I've made clear here because clarity might require a whole long grammar lesson, but it feels very strange to read and it made me pause every time it happened.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

There's plenty of variation of sentence structure and word choice, and a pretty solid vocabulary on display. Aside from the already mentioned overuse of commas in some places, punctuation seems solid. I'm not personally fond of the use of quoatating marks to mark things like the model of the gun, but that's a personal choice thing rather than a wrong or right thing.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There were the stumbles from the verb oddity, but there were also some strange pronoun choices. Eliza was referred to as "the preteen" and later "the teenager" and that was confusing. Also one time she was just called "the French" and that was odd since usually nationality/ethnicity pronouns like that are only used to differentiate someone from others who are different but she was alone at that point.

Oh, and there were other generally strange things like the very first sentence. "A gasp of air reached out..." just doesn't feels very odd to me.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

The narrative voice seems a bit shaky throughout the story, particularly during the scene where Eliza is shooting the dudes, but it was definitely there.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

Previously mentioned issues aside, yes, this does feel written with intentional style and flow. It wasn't perfect because of the switches between flashbacks and current time having rather different tones, but it worked.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

Yep, plenty of description makes scenes pretty easy to picture.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

I stayed interested through the whole thing. The flashbacks were a great way to maintain reader interest, and then once they were finished there was enough emotional investment built into the vengeance mission that there was no wavering of interest.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The dialogue was fairly distinct between the few characters that spoke, but some of it (particularly the guys Eliza shoots at) feels a little over the top rather that totally natural. Overall the dialogue was good though.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Eliza doesn't get a ton of character development, but there's enough to figure out who she is and what she wants. Daniel gets even less, but there's enough in the flashbacks to see what he's about as well. Other characters are mostly one dimensional, but they were basically just prop pieces or targets anyway so that's fine.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Yep, the characters don't seem out of place.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

All the character choices seem fitting with their personalities and motivations; even the secondary ones that get very little development are shown to be acting for logical reasons.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Eliza was interesting, but never really reached likable to me; I do have some pity for her though, because that girl had a real shitty life. Daniel in the flashbacks seemed nice, but also seemed pretty generic and uninteresting. Other characters hit no emotional notes really.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

I feel like I've read this sort of story dozens of times, and that's not counting the ones that take these same ideas and use them in different settings/eras. It's a very common plot used as backstory or the focus of the story for things set in the colonial era. The lack of originality was not really a problem though, and this sort of story became so popular for good reasons.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

The only mild surprise came with the ending. Most of these sorts of stories I've read show the vengeful person getting away with little to no injury, so seeing Eliza actually end up wounded and near death was neat.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Eliza was clearly a little miss badass. Prompt totally fulfilled with no deviation.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Yeah, everything seems pretty well fleshed out.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There's definitely plot advancement here, but I don't see much in the way of learning. Eliza accomplished plenty though, so that's fine.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

The flow was a bit more wobbly than running in a straight and seamless line, but it worked out fine. It's a whole story that goes through the full expected arc of a plot, though the sort of first act of it all was presented in backstory amidst the second act portion of it. Everything seems fitting to me.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

Yeah, this was a decent ending. Eliza got her revenge, and the Sioux elder (I assume) came and saved her from dying by the riverside. It doesn't feel like there are any loose ends or anything, and I could see this being carried on into another separate story just fine.

Overall

This is a tough one to give an overall assessment of, but I think I would have to go with something like "it was okay, not great but also not awful." The story was good and had a solid ending, the characters were alright, but those grammatical issues made it tough to read. You're clearly doing fine on the plotting and description side of things, so my only suggestion for improvement is to work on those fundamentals, the grammar and punctuation rules, and I'm sure you'll be able to write some fantastic stuff.

The First Mission

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

There are many typos and a lot of run-on sentences. They were definitely numerous enough to be distracting. One in particular, describing the suit as a "marble of engineering," made me stop and laugh for a bit. Also, dialogue from multiple characters being thrown into one paragraph is bad, it run afoul of grammar rules and makes it confusing to read two people talking to each other.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

Comma usage was iffy, and not just because of the run-on sentences that were missing them. I didn't notice any bad repetition of words or any major problems with general vocabulary use, and there was a reasonable variety to the sentence structures.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There were a few odd choices of terms that made me stop and wonder why exactly they had been chosen. More specifically, the Leddus ship being described as having medieval palace decorations and one of them using the title of 'lord' makes no sense at all; these are aliens, why would they use human-made titles and why would they have a decoration aesthetic like human medieval times, and even if the aesthetic why would this alien person think of it as medieval when that's a human term for a period of Earth history? There was a similar issue with the mention of the Magellanic Cloud: that's a human name, why is this alien using it? I was also confused about why the alien could just speak to humans and be understood perfectly fine, but I've seen enough sci-fi stuff to wave that off as some kind of universal translator nonsense at work.

Also, that list of terms was in the wrong place. I don't just mean the fact that it was placed in between the penultimate and final paragraph of the story for no good reason, though that was also odd. It should have come before you started using these random terms for time, which were very confusing. Aside from those terms, most of the list should not have needed an explanation there: your description of various races and objects, or their names alone (like the Micro Black Hole Generator) should have been enough for someone to understand what you were referring to next time the name came up. Also, I question why this alien person thought in normal human terms for things like medieval era decorations and the Magellanic Cloud but didn't think of the tank as a tank.

Despite the above paragraphs of complaint, it was not hard to understand what was going on in the story. This was just the best place to bring up those two problems.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

There was no real personality in the narrative voice, but if it was intended to read very robotically then I suppose there was a voice and it was consistent. Hard to tell if it was intentional or not though.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

There did not seem to be much in the way of deliberate flow or specific stylistic choices being made.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

Some descriptions were enough to give some mental imagery, but it was not as common as I would have liked. The battle scenes especially feel very, very dry. They could have been presented in a bullet point list of actions taken and they would have felt the same. There was very little description of the visuals, just a few adjectives thrown in to modify the actions, and that made the battles feel rather dull.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

The story never grabbed my interest, and I was tempted to skim but did not. This could just be because I'm not into sci-fi stuff and things like fancy future tech and weird aliens aren't enough to make me interested, whereas someone who likes that sort of thing might have been hooked early on.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The dialogue feels very unnatural and choppy a lot of the time. There wasn't much personality present in the voices until the scene on the Luddus ship, but it was fine there.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

All the characters who got any development at all only seemed to reach one or two dimensional status. Jellya's only defining traits were that she's young and she wants to do good things. The Yrudian seemed like a one note evil character with no depth.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Yeah, they seem to fit sci-fi stuff just fine.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

The Yrudian and his cronies attacking Earth was never given an explanation, but their strategic choice of keeping their ships away from nuke attacks made sense; all that is learned from these things is that the Yrudian is a dick and has some basic strategic abilities. Jellya's choices are similarly simple, they're just aimed toward good ends instead.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

I neither liked nor was interested in any of the characters, and I have no emotions about them at all.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

There was plenty of imagination on display here. The plot and setting of evil aliens invading earth was not new, but most of the alien species were original and a lot of the tech stuff was not familiar to me. It definitely did not feel like any other sci-fi setting I've encountered before, and that is a good thing.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

The nanobot pistol was cool and not something I expected. I've never seen any sci-fi stuff use the idea of having a weapon made of nanobots so it could be hidden in plain sight and reformed whenever, so that was neat. Also, while I've seen hype superpowered suits and space ships used before, the combo of sending someone out with both was amusing and was not what I expected from a Peacekeeper. It was like the principle of nesting dolls applied to sci-fi weaponry, and I can respect that.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Jellya is clearly a little miss badass, so yeah, it fits.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Those oddities of aliens using human terms makes me think the author perhaps did not put enough thought into how alien speech and culture ought to be different from human speech and culture, but everything else seemed fairly well developed. If I were told this was one small story set in a large existing fictional universe the author had previously created. It was very clear that plenty of worldbuilding work went into creating this setting.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There is a plot that advances, and Jellya accomplishes her task. I don't think anyone learned anything.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

There's a logical beginning, middle, and end. The interaction with the humans wasn't really necessary since it didn't lead to anything worthwhile, but including it wasn't really a problem.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

It's a complete story, but it's utterly lacking in satisfaction. There is no attachment to characters to make me care about the success of the mission, the villains seemed to just be mindless evil so there's no reason to care much about their defeat, and above all there was never a real sense of danger or struggle. Jellya never seemed to be in fear of failing her mission or dying, she was just calm, cool, and collected throughout the whole thing. Her two setbacks (her ship getting hit and then getting knocked out and captured) never impeded her progress, and in fact they just pushed her toward victory. Maybe it was just the technological advantage at work, but she just never seemed to be in real danger and never seemed to struggle to win, so the whole thing was given a Mary Sue vibe that just killed all sense of satisfaction in the story progression.

Overall

This entry was hard to read, and I didn't feel very good about it in the end. I've already gone over the negative bits enough so I won't repeat them here. I will however reiterate that you've got plenty of cool ideas in play here. Pretty much anyone can learn how to improve the mechanics of their writing, but coming up with good ideas in the first place is a talent that's much harder to learn, so you should be pleased with that advantage you've got over many others who try and fail to come up with interesting ideas.

A Date With A Time Traveler

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

There are a few issues. I was amused by "almost naturally wide eyes" in one of the early paragraphs, but it was the only typo that actually interrupted my reading.

There was also the problem of using "would <verb>" a lot when you should almost never do that. That's a conditional thing: saying something like "he would attack the monster" just doesn't feel right because the "would" makes it seem like there's a condition attached, such as "he would attack the monster if it took one step closer," but then you still have to just say when he actually attacks and not use "would" to do so. Whenever you want to use the "would <verb>" setup you should ask yourself if the action did in fact occur right there where you wrote it: if the answer is yes, remove the "would" and use the proper tense of the verb by itself to show the action occurring; if the answer is no because it's referring to a hypothetical or conditional action that may occur in the future, then you probably did it right and can leave it alone. Sorry for the rant and grammar lesson, but this is one of my grammar pet peeves. :P

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

Everything except for the punctuation usage seemed fine here, and even then the punctuation problems were not terrible. I'll get to the punctuation issues in the later questions about dialogue though, because it's more relevant to dialogue specifically than being a general problem with knowing how to use punctuation.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There were some stumbles on the "would" usage issues I had, and some dialogue that made me pause, but there was no confusion really.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

The narrative voice seems to shift and waver a lot as the perspective sort of changes. It seems like the author had a hard time choosing between an omniscient narrator perspective and writing from the perspective of the characters, and that played some havoc with the tone of the writing.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

Ah, well, I'm going to criticize some of these style choices shortly, but they definitely do show that the author made specific choices with intent rather than just throwing crap together to see what sticks.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

There was plenty of description of characters. The marketplace was sort of described (moreso the people in it than the place itself), but the cafe had almost no description at all, and both had the issue of it taking way too long into the story to show anything to indicate that this was happening on Earth over a century in the future. If not for the intro bit giving a date I would have thought it was set in generic modern day time until the holo-menu was mentioned.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

The mystery of why this guy HAD to go back in time to talk to this lady was enough to keep my interest.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The characters do have distinct voices, but it was not really natural. The only way I can summarize the problem I had with the dialogue is that it felt very anime (or you could sub in manga or Japanese video games, whatever works for you). Anime, particularly those of the slice of life and romance genres, has this issue with dialogue where it's always a little over the top and cutesy. The dialogue here felt like that a lot of the time. It got better when they started talking about serious things, but even that was peppered with the forced feeling bits.

The strong anime feeling was also pushed by the two punctuation issues present in some of the dialogue. You should never use just punctuation for a line of dialogue. That is not dialogue, this is a lazy shorthand to indicate someone's reaction or expression. Never use the shorthand, describe their facial expression or body language to get the point across while saying they remain silent. The other punctuation issue was the use of ellipses. You didn't have the problem of throwing them in a ton of places where they shouldn't be, but when you write characters with such hesitant speech you should mix it up with ways you mark that hesitation. Having a bunch of ... everywhere in a paragraph of dialogue makes it choppy to read, and that's not what you want for emotional moments.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Celeste got a lot more character development than Lucas/Isaac, but both got enough attention in the story to be clearly distinct characters and such.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Ehhhhhh, I suppose so? It was supposed to be set way in the future, but it actually felt like modern day. The characters could have fit just fine in a modern day story, so I guess in this future that is not so different from what we know they were perfectly suitable.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

I want to question some of Celeste's actions, but she was a character specifically noted as naive so they were all in character and showed it. Lucas/Isaac's actions all make sense and show more about his character as well.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

They were both likable, but Lucas/Isaac wasn't particularly interesting as a person; knowing from the start that he was probably the time traveler was the only interesting thing about him. The ending did manage to tug at some feels though, so I guess that counts as strong emotion for the characters.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

Time travel is a well-worn plot device, but this story managed to handle it well by making it background context rather than a key part of the action. I was prepared for a cringe-inducing time hopping trek when I read the title, but I was pleasantly surprised by the actual contents.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

I've seen the basic plot before, of a grown person going back in time to see someone who died when they were young, but the adoption twist was new and surprising.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Celeste came close to being flat out named a naive everygirl, and she fits the trope well (with the adoptive motherhood twist, that's not normal and usually the naive everygirl is actually young rather than looking it). Also, props for being the only entry that didn't have a little miss badass.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

The whole idea of a time messenger seems shaky to me. Things like throwing random stacks of cash at people would change the past enough that some level of the butterfly effect would logically take place and alter the past, which they're not supposed to do. However, I'm willing to shrug this off because most time travel stories give some silly explanation to make this problem go away, and the same could apply to this entry.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

It's a very simple plot with slow advancement, but it's there. The characters both get something out of what happens, though I'm hard pressed to call Celeste getting money a form of learning or accomplishment.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

The overall story makes sense. There are two parts that feel like they don't quite fit in with the rest, though. The first part is the whole introduction. It's not bad or unnecessary, it just doesn't fit at all with the rest. Who is Lucas/Isaac talking to, and if he's talking to someone telling this tale why isn't the rest of the story also presented in first person perspective? It's just an odd switch that could have been handled better. The other part is the fifth paragraph after the shift back to past-land, the on that starts with "In short." That paragraph is goofy and unnecessary. You JUST described her as small and childlike without any ambiguity, so the blunt reiteration was out of place and confusing.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

Yeah, this is a good ending that wraps the story up nicely. Solid feels moment there. I saw it coming from a mile away, but it was still good. No loose ends, no important questions unanswered, and it ends on a positive note for everyone. Well done.

Overall

If I set aside my personal distaste for a certain grammar issue, I can call this one a good entry. It wasn't the most inventive or exciting story, but it did exactly what it set out to do. The dialogue issues and lack of setting description were unfortunate, but they didn't negatively impact the story for me. This entry has one of my favorite endings of the lot this month, and having a good ending is very important for reader satisfaction.

Reflections

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

I only noticed one typo, and the grammar was fine throughout. No negative impact on the reading at all.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

There's plenty of variation and a wide vocabulary at work here. I didn't notice any punctuation problems.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There was a "wait, what?" stumbling moment at the start of the second section. I was not expecting a huge time jump, and for a couple paragraphs I was confused, but it was cleared up and everything made sense again after that.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

The tone of the narrative writing was consistent throughout, but no real sense of personality jumped out at me.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

There do seem to be some intentional choices made for flow and the like. Some sentences were tweaked in non-standard ways, presumably out of the author's own sense of style, and I had no problems with it.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

The description was quite nice, plenty of stuff to give solid mental pictures of what is going on, plus good description of physical details (like the magic arrow thing humming with tension in Laurel's arm) added even more dimension to such mental images.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

I wasn't really hooked until the creepy "do you want to be special?" proposition happened, but from there my interest was held until the end.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

Laurel and Beth are very distinct, and their dialogue is pretty natural. One thing I have to note though: persistent stammers are the worst. They always murder the flow of the reading, even when they're portrayed realistically. They're just an awful choice for a character trait if you want dialogue to read smoothly.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Both of the principle characters end up feeling plenty complex and fleshed out. I just with Laurel would develop past that stammer so I can stop wanting to tape her mouth shut.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Seems like modern time with fantastical stuff added in, so yeah, random realistic girls fit in that setting.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Beth being a huge bitch to Laurel doesn't make tons of sense at the beginning, but I suppose that part of her character is just being a huge bitch? Everything else is fine though.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Beth is not likable (see above bit about her being a huge bitch), but Laurel is and both of them are interesting. I ended up with some pity for Beth and some pleasant feelings for their victory via magical friendship at the climax at the story.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

The stuff dealing with the dream world is all pretty original. I've seen a variety of dream world stories, but never a weird tree that is trying to get its roots in people's dreams to get into the real world. That's pretty imaginative, methinks.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Aside from the above thing, this feels sort of like a magical girl story twisted into very unfamiliar knots. I was not expecting anything like this from the beginning of the story, haha.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

Beth is clearly little miss badass, and Shy is a mystical waif. Laurel was probably intended as a naive everygirl, but it didn't quite hit the mark for me, but the other two make it totally fitting for the prompt regardless.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Mostly. The dream stuff is the one point that could have used a lot more development to explain it. What the hell was Shy and why was she recruiting girls to stop her own attempts to get into the real world? How was this thing that wants to get out of dream land able to give dream powers to real girls without already being out of dream land? There are plenty more questions left unanswered as well.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

Yep, clear plot with a sense of advancement. The characters accomplish dream tree destruction and learn the power of friendship.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

The story mostly makes sense, it's just lacking further details about the dream things. The flipping back and forth between past and present fiddle with the flow, but it works for the sake of exposition and character development. Nothing really felt unnecessary to me, every scene had a purpose.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

The ending was pretty good, if a little cheesy. It was a great ending just for the characters, but a sort of limp ending as far as the dream shenanigans were concerned, so I'd say overall just good. It works just fine to complete the story anyway, because the lack of information about dream stuff doesn't matter much since the tree is dead and gone and no longer relevant to their lives.

Overall

I liked this entry a lot. The very mechanically clean writing paired with plenty of good description and an interesting plot made for a very pleasant read. The only major problem I had with this entry was the lack of information about the dream stuff, but even though I call it a "major" problem it was really just an annoyance. I like knowing the details about the supernatural shenanigans, but it's not always necessary to make a story good, and this is one of those instances.

Now Presenting: That Certain Young Lady

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

I can't recall spotting any typos. There was a.. not quiet error, more a style choice, but still something that threw me off: putting numbers in dialogue instead of typing out the words. That was odd and made me pause the first time I saw it.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

Everything seems pretty solid here. I noticed one place where a quotation mark was missing, when the director was calling cut, and a couple egregious commas, but none of it was a problem for me. Also, this is the only entry that made me go look up a word (subclavian), so you get bonus points for vocabulary.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

There was an odd choice that made me stumble immediately: the name Boom Boom Joykick. That's a name you stare at for a few seconds before asking yourself "...what the fuck?" I had a similar moment with ExtraSpecial Magic Girl, but by then I'd realized the over the top names were very intentional so it was alright. Otherwise there weren't any strange word choices that popped out at me, and everything seemed pretty clear to me.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

Yeah, there's a clear narrative voice at work here, but it's shaky at the start. It gets steady and constant when the perspective more clearly focuses on Suzi, after the bar scene.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

I see a lot of very intentionally unconventional choices being made here (like all the words in all capitalized letters) to give a certain style and flow to the writing. It was not a smooth and chill flow though, more like a jumpy and erratic one, but it worked for the story so it was fine by me.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

There was a lot of description of characters, but the setting description was sparse which made it awkward to picture the scenes.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

I was immediately hooked with confusion by the weird name, and then I stayed interested most of the way there. That faded around the time it got to the point of the alien guy talking to Suzi, because then my confusion came back but it was in the form of an irritated "wait, what the fuck is this?" than an intrigued confusion.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

Yeah, the characters are pretty distinct, each has their own voice. The dialogue in the acted bit at the start is pretty bad, but it smooths out after that and feels rather realistic most of the time.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

None of the characters feel particularly complex or deep, though Suzi was a lot better off in that department than Marian and Bunny, which makes sense since she was the focus of the story. She approached feeling like a fully developed character, but the others remained rather simple. It was never made clear why the alien dude wanted to eradicate humanity, or why they were bothering to infiltrate human society, all the reader gets from Vor is that he's a genocidal dick for some reason.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Sure, vain and goofy girls make sense in a Hollywood type setting, and I guess the alien stuff fits just fine since aliens can kinda fit wherever.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Kinda? The girls agree to the meeting because they all want to make it big, and that's the main decision they make. Everything about the decisions made by the aliens makes no sense and shows nothing about them because there is no information on why they might have cause to do any of this stuff. Like why bother shipping humans to an alien world instead of just killing them and replacing them? Seems like an unnecessary liability.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

Likable? No. Interesting? Yes. They were pretty damned hilarious in the first half and had me laughing a lot. Suzi playing the mystical waif but in reality cursing like a sailor and then trying to act her way out of the alien problem, Bunny contemptuously fluffing her hair, Marian's "deep" thought, and Malloy's thought about his husbando were all great comedy moments. That was really the only level of connection I had to the characters though.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

The setting stuff from the acting portion was interesting. The rest was fairly mundane seeming settings. The plot was pretty original.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Well, I was surprised by alien abduction being done in this way, that's for sure. I still question why the hell it was a thing at all, but I've never seen alien abduction done as a way to send someone to another planet and have them replaced by a doppelganger on Earth.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

This was a real problem for me. Honestly it feels like the prompt was utterly disregarded after the first scene. It was like the tropes were used up front and discarded to make way for the story about aliens that the author wanted to tell. This deviates from the spirit of the prompt because it's supposed to be about a character based on one of the tropes. Instead the characters temporarily put on acts to fit the tropes and then went on to be not the tropes at all. The story was never focused on characters who embody or subvert the tropes. You could have swung things around for Suzi to fit one of them, and it was possible she could have become a little miss badass if the story ended quite a bit farther in the future, but it never happened.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Not particularly. There was the whole lack of explanation for the alien stuff, basically no explanation of magic, and everything about the alien planet seemed rushed and confused. The alien plot had no development, and why the hell are they sending magic humans to their planet when clearly magic is stronger there so they are bigger threats there? So many questions, no answers.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

There's a plot and there's advancement. I don't think anything is really accomplished or learned though, not even for Suzi who only gets to the point of just.. I guess realizing she has magic?

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

The beginning of the story moving toward the middle made sense and flowed well enough; the transition from acted scene to non-acted was a real flow killer, but that's fine. However, the sense was lost after the girls were brought into the alien dude's interview room. It goes from what looks like a story about actresses competing against their friends for their big break, including a spooky dream that seems to indicate that they're going to be faced with temptation, and it all seems to be building up to something where they'll have to choose between friendship and fame/glory/money... but then aliens happen. Everything after that just feels weird and wrong, especially the disjointed and rushed part after Suzi gets sent to the alien world. The second half of the story doesn't fit with the first half, or perhaps it's the other way around if you were wanting to tell a story about aliens abducting some girl who goes on to do magical stuff on their planet.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

Not even a little bit. Aside from feeling totally disjointed from the first half of the story, it just ends in a really lame place. She learns she can do some kind of hype magic on this planet.. and then that's it. This feels like a very strange first act to a story, not a complete story.

Overall

The writing was pretty good from a technical standpoint and I really enjoyed the first half of this entry. It was hilarious and ridiculous and I laughed a lot. But then you already know how I feel about the second half, and that soured me on the whole thing. Complete plot and tone shifts in the middle of a story are rarely a good idea, especially when you don't even finish the story. I can see you were going for a huge plot twist sort of thing, but that is always a risk and unfortunately when it doesn't work out it just utterly tanks your story. Kudos for being ambitious and taking that risk though.

Pew, pew!

TECHNIQUE
- Are there spelling/grammar errors or typos? Many, or just a few? How did it affect your ability to read and follow along with the story?

Spelling and such seemed fine, I only spotted a couple typos. Nothing really got in the way of reading and following the story.

- Is sentence structure and word choice varied? Does the writer show a good grasp of vocabulary and punctuation usage?

There's some good variation and vocabulary on display in this entry. The poor commas were abused by way off too much unnecessary use though.

- Are there any odd word choices or places where you stumble? Is everything clear and easy to understand?

No stumbles and everything was clear.

STYLE
- Do you get a sense of the narrative voice when reading along? Is it consistent throughout the narrative?

The tone of the narration was consistent, but it's not a very strong voice, not much feeling of a personality in it.

- Do the punctuation and sentence structure show a sophistication of style? Does it seem like deliberate choices were made to create a certain flow?

There seems to be a certain flow to the writing, and it does seem to be intentional.

- Is there use of vivid, engrossing description? Can you easily picture scenes in your head?

There's a ton of description, and it's done well. The store wasn't particularly well described, but the look and actions of the characters were very clear.

- Does the story captivate your interest? Do you find yourself skimming?

It took a while to grab me, up until Ginny asked about people calling Simona "sir," but from then on my interest was held just fine.

CHARACTERIZATION
- Do characters have distinct, believable voices of their own? Is the dialogue natural or does it feel forced?

The characters are very distinct from one another, and the dialogue feels rather natural with all the slang and phonetic show of accent. I don't get very clear mental voices going for characters in most things I read, but this one managed to give a really clear idea of the intended voices for Ginny and the bigot guys.

- Do characters show complexity and depth of emotion? Do you get a sense of who they are and what motivates them?

Simona and Ginny are pretty well developed despite this entry being on the short side, and there's definitely a good sense of who they are. The bigot guys, however, feel like very flat strawmen whose only purpose in existing was to act as the villains in this after school special of a story. They're overblown stereotypes rather than real characters, no depth to them, just bigotry.

- Do the characters seem appropriate for the setting?

Simona and Ginny could be from pretty much anywhere in modern day, so sure. Bigot dudes seemed a little out of place in a suburban place, like maybe they stepped out of say the mid 1900s from somewhere in the southeastern part of the United States.

- Do the decisions made or conclusions reached by characters within the scope of the story make sense? Do we learn more about them through their actions?

Again, Simona and Ginny are all good in this regard, and the dudes not so much.

- Are the characters likable or interesting? Do you have any strong emotion toward them?

And for the last time, Simona and Ginny good, bigots bad. :P

More specifically, yeah, both Simona and Ginny were likable and interesting. Simona was easy to relate to as someone who's just trying to live their life and be happy, and Ginny was too adorable to not like.

CREATIVITY
- Are the plot and/or setting fresh and original? Do they show imagination?

Nope, I've seen this after school special quite a few times before in various formats, the plot was quite familiar. Haven't seen one take place in a convenience store though, so that's new.

- Are there any new twists on old ideas or common elements? Has the writer surprised you?

Well, there was the interesting twist put on the little miss badass trope, but I'll get to that in a moment.

COHESIVENESS
- Does the story adhere to the prompt? How closely? Is there any way you feel it deviates from the spirit?

This entry uses the prompt just fine, even going so far as to end the story naming the trope selected. It was interesting though. Ginny was obviously a badass little girl, no doubt she qualifies as a little miss badass. However, Simona was also a little miss badass subverted in a few ways (transgender, not a young girl, strength mostly displayed in non-physical ways), and I quite like that.

- Do the ideas involved seem fully developed?

Yeah, I'd say so. I don't count the flat bigot characters as a negative for the ideas being developed, because those simplistic characters are totally normal for this sort of story and work just fine to get the message across.

- Is there a plot? Do you get a sense of advancement in the story? Do characters learn or accomplish anything?

Yep, plot and advancement exist. Everyone seems to learn something: Simona learned to stand up against bigoted dickheads, Ginny learned that sometimes violence is the answer and is also badass, and the bigot dudes learned the true meaning of the phrase "talk shit, get hit." Good times.

- Does the story make sense as a whole and flow seamlessly from beginning to end? Is there anything that feels like it doesn't fit or is unnecessary?

Everything makes sense. Even the bit about cleaning fits in because it gives a bit of background to Simona's circumstances and shows some of her character.

- Is the ending satisfying? Does it feel like a complete story?

Yep, this was a solid ending that completes the story well. Naming the trope was a little hamfisted, but that's fine, it didn't detract from the message or anything.

Overall
I enjoyed this entry. I think the best part of it was the dialogue, but the basic technical skill of the writing and the great description were also fantastic. This could have come off as another boring and preachy story that amounts to "bigotry is bad" like the hundreds of other stories that exist to deliver that message, but those good qualities kept it feeling fresh and interesting instead. My one major gripe is that I wish the bigot dudes had instead been more nuanced and fleshed out rather than bigotry strawmen. Anyone can write a story showing why that kind of over the top bigotry is bad, but it would have been more powerful and realistic to show that bigoted people aren't all just reprehensible scumbags with no redeeming qualities.

 

[HerziQuerzi]

tape her mouth shut.

hot

 

[Kitti]

I used the rubric as a guideline for what to mention but decided not to go point by point on it because I prefer to write these freeform. I want to invoke a similar disclaimer to Jorick: I try to mention when I see things that are good but I'm still working on it. My words are meant to be constructive and I want you all to come away from this feeling proud that you worked hard and you made a story! And lots of people read it! Good job :)

Time and Time Again

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There are few errors with grammar, spelling, and punctuation, which was good for overall readability. Some portions with the dialogue could use more punctuation but this does not hinder understanding. There are many descriptive adjectives and a varied vocabulary in the beginning but later, there seems to be not enough.

The description in the appearance and way that things are done could use embellishment on their significance and personal motivation. At present, the story feels rushed with the pacing seeming somewhat jerky. Fleshing out the actual fight scenes might help to make the story more engaging while spending more time on actions will make it feel longer and less like a list.

Characterization would make the story more engaging as well! There is some indication of what Linna is like as a person but next to nothing about the other characters that feature in the story or her relationship with them. There is no real indication of who Abell is, what they hope to achieve, why they came to ask Linna for help, who the people Linna is creeping on are... these are all questions that I was searching for the answer to in the story.

The ending to the story doesn't feel connected to the previous section and could use more detail all around about the cause for the actions that take place, rather than feeling like nothing really happened. Giving more depth and detail to who these people are and what motivates them will help the reader feel more connected to the story and likely give them the clear narrative voice.

​

Hated Fairytale of Tropes

Minor grammar and punctuation points but nothing that seriously impeded understanding of the story. The sentence structure is somewhat straightforward throughout and varying it could create a more interesting flow. Take care with the sentences that you don't put too many ideas into once sentence, though, as this makes it more difficult to follow and forms run-ons.

Some word choice is repetitive in places and some felt a little out of place or unusual in the story, as in "gal" and "poor rest". The story has some "realism" questions with how or why something came to be, as in holding a sword and shield but catching a girl in his arms.

While it is clear that the story is meant to be something of a parody, the pacing is disorienting and the story could benefit from more "show, don't tell" in its scenes, as the reader is directly given the intended impression. " Everyman was not amused with her quip." This is an example of a sentence where you could have described his reaction instead of just summing it up.

The characterization of the characters, particularly Waif, is not consistent and seems to fluctuate to suit the scene being parodied. The relationship between Everyman and Waif seemed to happen almost at once at the end and was a shock, unless one counts the sexual assault-ish scene as courting.

The twists on which trope is being used and the motivations behind it were an interesting idea for the story. These tropes are not frequently used in "rise of evil" type stories and it was admittedly not the direction that I expected the story to take.

​

Shakespeare would be embarrassed

Some minor grammar, spelling, punctuation errors.
Some caused momentary confusion, as in this case where the comma gives the impression of two girls: "A young brunette, reminiscent of Beth, and the girl they assigned to me as a student."
Word choice is also occasionally confusing: "The lava swirls, churning its black and red in a pot of fire."
The dialogue is somewhat stilted and stiff. Having the exposition delivered through dialogue might have been an intentional indication of the unprepared playwright but is anticlimactic to read through and it's not as exciting for me when the story is delivered via monologue.

The mechanics of the world are made clear in some places but in others, it takes more than one reading to figure out what is supposed to be going on: "New instructions appear for me, in Anne's dialogue. Yolene didn't think this through one bit, did she? She can't put words on a character's tongue, and expect them to be silent." This section was one that I had to reread and sort of guess with context at what was happening.

The narrative voice is clear and it was evident that Xara was intended to be a sympathetic character. Her lesson learned progresses the story but her personality is limited otherwise. Yolene/Beth's brattiness as a facade for hurt feelings has potential for a compelling characterization if further expanded but didn't make her especially likable until the reader was suddenly thrust into feeling sorry for her.

The idea for a play within a play was inventive and leaving it until the end gave it an interesting twist.​

​

Nika in Ten

Good use of spelling and grammar conventions, there were no errors that caught my attention. One minor aspect that I nab a lot in stories is present, though: parenthetical asides from limited third person narration interrupt the flow in a jarring way: "(it had two beds, don't get any ideas)". Otherwise, the writing was good and I think that the idea of vignettes as one learns about two characters growing together is an interesting one that could be very touching and evocative.

The description of Nika's distress is well-written and touching and her characterization overall makes her interesting but the characterization for the other two is lacking and makes them uninteresting in the story to me. Not having much in the way of names for the two non-Nikas or any character descriptions, they are hard to connect with for me.

While I understand the point of the repetition and its link to the title, the repeated structure throughout breaks the flow of the work as a story and could work better if the format were less rote and laid bare, in my opinion.

The romance seems to be the conclusion of the story but it doesn't provide much in terms of a satisfying conclusion to anything in particular other than the list having been completed and some sexual tension between narrator and Nika. Having a third member introduced that gets to join in on the smutting feels a bit to me like it cheapens the entire experience of learning about Nika anyway because then this guy just joins up at the end and gets to have a threeway too without all those shared life lessons from the other seven points.​

​

Red River Retribution

Overall, spelling and grammar are mostly well-adhered to and don't cause many stumbling points for me in the story, though the form of some sentences feels unnatural. The piece reflects a definite and unique style, with a clear narrative voice that sets it apart. A note of caution when writing with accent as it can draw the reader out if there is a misstep.

An issue related to grammar, however, was that the word choice at times seemed to be chosen for things that sounded poetic together rather than made sense. This made the story overly purple in places with occasionally confusing word choice "frolics of ebony hair" and other sentences that could benefit from more careful description, "Andre missed a leg". The vocabulary and word choice, where fitting, is rich and colorful, however.

The characterization gives an individual presence to both Eliza and Daniel. They have their own feelings and opinions. Eliza could use stronger impressions of her motivations and personal feelings but gives other defining character traits that still make her an interesting character. The overall tone of the story keeps the reader firmly rooted in the historical setting and the setting as a whole is well-realized.
​

​

First Mission

Spelling and grammar have errors but nothing that disrupts understanding. The majority of these errors seem to involve commas and that might be worth keeping an eye on. Having two separate systems for spoken dialogue and thoughts would make it easier to read and just create a certain uniformity for identifying what is going on for the reader, rather than using quotation marks for both. Similarly, placing different character dialogues in different paragraphs makes it easier to tell who is speaking.

Another read-through might catch some of the small errors throughout, like "the Protector suit was a marble of engineering." Some statements feel unpolished and detract from the feel of the story: "Well to bad that will not work since my craft heavily outclasses any Hudde warship." The dialogue feels unnatural.

The choice of topic and genre for the story is interesting and different. The primary character is not given much in the way of personal characterization and could benefit from more to create a stronger connection between the reader and the character.As it was, they did not have much development or motivation and no apparent feelings aside from disliking the bad guy and liking their work.

The story, particularly in that many terms are only explained in the glossary, does not feel as though it is a standalone story but rather an excerpt. Still, the thoughts given to the alternate forms of time-telling and unique races show the reader glimpses of engaging worldbuilding. The extensive use of nanobots throughout various forms of technology offers a lot of opportunity to build and use this idea in creative ways.​

A Date with a Time Traveler

Some errors with grammar and punctuation in the story. The tense of the sentences seems changeable and uncertain at times. There are several descriptions but especially in regards to Celeste, a lot of them are repeated within a fairly small timeframe.

The readability of the story would benefit from polishing to check for any lingering typos/word errors ("which thankfully considered little more") and get the tenses under control (particularly the use of "would"). Take care not to put too many ideas into sentences and form run-ons as they amble onward and lose track of their ideas.

It was a cute story and Celeste had a very distinct personality and characterization from her actions and words. Her characterization gave a strong feeling of being the protagonist in a feel-good anime but that was her trope and in that way, she exemplified it well. Making her an older character with responsibilities and a half-grown adopted child was a new take on the stereotype for me, though. Isaac doesn't have much development but doesn't seem to be the main focus of the story.

I was interested in the futuristic setting but aside from a few notes (lobster being rare, holograph menus) it felt like that aspect wasn't relevant or influential.​

​

Reflections

No noticeable errors in grammar or spelling. The descriptions were strengthened by a vivid word choice and the dialogue as a whole feels smooth, aside from Laurel. The character relationship seems to be the most unclear element of the story and I wavered between thinking that they were previously friends who had a falling out or if Beth was just an unpleasant person throughout.

Interesting story concept and once Shy was introduced, I was curious to read onward. The concept was, of course, fantastical but was explained in a short but sufficient fashion that didn't create too much confusion for me as to what was going on in the story. One aspect that did confuse me, however: why would Shy, if she wanted to be real and succeed in rooting in dreams or whatever the exact plan was, would recruit girls to stop her from doing it.

The narration was detailed and caught my interest but the dialogue made me want to skip over it. In the dialogue, while clear that it is part of Laurel's characterization, the number of stuttered letters is to draw my attention to it rather than work as an unspoken character development and becomes more taxing to read with longer dialogue from her.

The ending felt somewhat rushed and could do with being further fleshed out but with restraints on time, it's still a conclusive and functional ending to the story arc. Fleshing things out more to show obvious places where the girls match and support one another's weak sides would have made them a more understandable pair.​

Now Presenting

Spelling and grammar seem well-adhered to overall with only a few small spots. The vocabulary was varied and rich with strong imagery created as a result. The descriptions of the characters are a high note for this, though the lack of description for the setting made it more confusing in terms of picturing their actions and scenes.

The narration gives Suzi a particular personality that can be distinguished, though more characterization could help differentiate her from her friends further and make them more relatable for the reader.I wouldn't call any of the girls especially likable from what was presented and it seems, from certain hints, that they aren't intended to be likable but I'm not completely sure on that.

Parentheses for some spots incorporate non-focus character thoughts in a smooth fashion "(and besides that, he was falling in love with her, she was sure)" but using them to set aside other details breaks the flow of the story "(sadly crumpling the pathetic little bows on Daphne's summer dress)". Some of the dialogue feels organic but in other places feels more stilted and serves a large role at the end as exposition, which lends less power to the scene and its potential.

The concept is interesting and sparks curiosity but leaves a lot of unanswered questions, particularly at the end, which seems somewhat cut off from the rest of the story and felt like it was part of a middle section in a longer work rather than an ending. The story didn't go in a direction that I was expecting, which is perfectly fine, but the direction that it went seemed to be at odds with the rest of the story up until that point.​

Pew, Pew

Spelling and grammar seem well-done, there were only a few minor errors but nothing that really drew attention away from the work.

The narration around Simona felt like a fairly standard slice-of-life story but didn't give many details aside from the more unpleasant parts of Simona's day and how tired she was. There isn't much for getting a feel of what her life is like outside of work or who she is as a person but she is developed more throughout the story.

The men's reaction to seeing Ginny after she said "pew, pew" from behind the counter suggested that they hadn't seen her before despite speaking to her when they first entered the store, which threw me off somewhat, just as a sidenote.

The conflict seems forced along in some places to further a message rather than organic in its development. The characters seem much the same way to me: vessels for saying increasingly offensive things rather than people with any personal feeling or motivation. The story has interesting potential in the view of the struggles of the main character but, possibly due to time constraints, feels rushed.

Aside from "Ginny thinks violence is cool", I didn't feel like the characters learned much or grew throughout the story. The ending, as a result, doesn't feel very satisfying to me and seems like it's the first half of a longer tale about Simona learning to accept herself or something along those lines.
​

 

[Ananfal]

Thanks to everyone who reviewed my story (Nika in Ten)! Just going to make a general response to all of you since you all pretty much brought up the same points.

At first I was rather angry and defensive about the comments on my work. I was really proud of it, since the character I based Nika off of is one of my longest and most dearest characters. The format was new to me, and I really liked how it turned out, and I was upset that others seemed to be disappointed in my work.

Then I started thinking logically, and I realized that all of you are right in the majority of what you said. All of the issues that I felt upset about were true - for readers who had no idea about the background stories of these characters.

In truth, these characters are based off of another story that I had written previously, and so things were left out that I knew about but the average readers wouldn't, and that was what caused the major differences in the ways we saw my work. Especially the threesome, that definitely threw a lot of people off, I'm sure.

Now to actually addressing points without blabbering about my feelings:

• I purposefully left the characterization of the two characters aside from Nika blank because I wanted this story to focus on Nika fully. I understand that since I already knew the other two characters, I was fine with this while other readers were not. This also left the ending somewhat anticlimactic for the majority of people, due to not having strong feelings about the characters.
• The counting up to ten was a new thing for me, and I thought I did an alright job for my first time, but I can see how it took away from the flow of the story, and how it didn't quite fit the timeline. Especially with the first two points being so close to each other.
• The finale and the third. Alright so this is a plot point that happened in the story I was basing this work off of, and it would have felt wrong to me if I hadn't kept it in. Of course, this is another thing that makes sense to me and not to the readers. Since I had meant the story to be about Nika, I wasn't expecting the readers to sympathize with the narrator. Thus, I can understand why the finale felt flat. At the same time, I was expecting people to feel good for Nika, since she finally got the happy ending she deserved since like, thought five or something. Then again, I've gotten complaints that she was hard to relate to, so that can explain lack of interest in the finale as well.

All in all, thanks again to everyone who critiqued my work, and I'll be sure to do better next time!

 

[Ravenfrost]

I DID think that you did a good job. I understand that some reviews here may be harsher than experienced in other venues. It will be easier next time because you'll be prepared for it.

(Personally, I didn't find fault with your non-Nika characters -- but then I tend to intuit a lot from a few words.

Indeed, I can really enjoy what I think of as "shadow characters.")

Your story was a contender for me when I was trying to choose which I would vote for. I was also strongly pulled towards Red River. I finally surrendered to my sentimental favorite, but it took a while for me to choose.

I don't look for perfect, even my favorite published authors mess up and that's okay. I would rather read a slightly flawed good yarn that appeals to my heart than a perfectly crafted one that seems created from pure calculation (and not the author's passion).

 

[Ananfal]

I DID think that you did a good job. I understand that some reviews here may be harsher than experienced in other venues. It will be easier next time because you'll be prepared for it.

(Personally, I didn't find fault with your non-Nika characters -- but then I tend to intuit a lot from a few words.

Indeed, I can really enjoy what I think of as "shadow characters.")

Your story was a contender for me when I was trying to choose which I would vote for. I was also strongly pulled towards Red River. I finally surrendered to my sentimental favorite, but it took a while for me to choose.

I don't look for perfect, even my favorite published authors mess up and that's okay. I would rather read a slightly flawed good yarn that appeals to my heart than a perfectly crafted one that seems created from pure calculation (and not the author's passion).

Thanks so much for thinking my piece was good enough to vote for! Even though you didn't actually vote for me, just the thought means a lot to me. :)

 

[HerziQuerzi]

What the hell was Shy and why was she recruiting girls to stop her own attempts to get into the real world?

One aspect that did confuse me, however: why would Shy, if she wanted to be real and succeed in rooting in dreams or whatever the exact plan was, would recruit girls to stop her from doing it.

Ah. Yeah. I do have a reason for that, but obviously did a poor job of conveying it. The basic idea is that Beth and Laurel are Shy's main roots. It's why Beth, who has been doing Dream stuff for longer, is permanently tired in real life despite the fact she used to be a morning person. And why the first scene ends with Shy "pulling" Laurel into the Dream, similar to how the Dream is always described as pulling or dragging victims in. Having them fight the little roots was basically supposed to be a smokescreen.

But the fact that that didn't get across is 95% 100% my bad.



Also, congrats @Pahndaemonium

 

[rechonq]

Thanks everyone for the critique, it'll actually help a lot. I was really happy to see that my grammar and story overall was pretty decent, but that I just made poor choices in word economy and some of my flow was stagnant.

~I definitely could have left out parts and focused on others more. I should have focused more on the ending and giving greater detail into how things transferred and put more depth into it. It was supposed to sort of have an anime feel, since I basically did keep the links open and just read them over and over again to make sure I was hopefully portraying them pretty well. My word economy was poor and if I had cut out the party gain and gone straight to the sorcerer then that may have been better. I think this may have affected some of my flow as I was trying to fit to many things into what was supposed to be a short story. Sorry for leaving important things out or vague and giving detail in the useless things.
~Panning out on the fight scene was more intentional though. I know some people like to have a detailed, choreographed fight, but I've come to realize that sometimes leaving fights a little vague make them more easy to understand and just leave things to the imagination. That can also go wrong the other direction, leaving things to vague and making them seem like side notes, so I've been working on that.

Thanks overall though for the critique. I really enjoyed this.

 

[HerziQuerzi]

~Panning out on the fight scene was more intentional though. I know some people like to have a detailed, choreographed fight, but I've come to realize that sometimes leaving fights a little vague make them more easy to understand and just leave things to the imagination. That can also go wrong the other direction, leaving things to vague and making them seem like side notes, so I've been working on that.

Here's how I approach writing fight scenes: (*Viability of the following is debatable (Also blanket statement of "In my opinion" for the following instead of having to include something along those lines with every point I make))

They should always start off with detailed choreography. A bit of straightforward play-by-play right off the bat does wonders for keeping things grounded. It tells the reader how the different participants prefer to fight (fast+precise strikes; heavy blows; lots of moving around; etc), how those styles interact with each other, and who has the advantage (if any). All of these things make future pan-outs easier for the the reader to fill with their imagination, since they have a framework to build upon. And by the very nature of play-by-play style writing (short sentences focused on physical actions), it helps give things a tenser and more frenetic pace. Appropriate for fight scenes.

Once you've done that for a paragraph or two (depending on paragraph length) it becomes safer to pull back a bit. To start referring to what's happening in broad, vague terms while you begin to focus more on character thoughts, more descriptive/adjective heavy writing, descriptions of what's happening around the fighters (if a larger scale conflict/event is going on), stuff like that. Because, as mentioned above, the framework has been built for the reader, and they can fill in the rest on their own from there. And the pacing has already been set, so you can generally ride on that for a bit (and minor swells in pacing (aka a paragraph of mostly short paragraphs followed by a paragraph of more average length sentences) are usually a good thing for setting up a rhythm and keeping the reader engrossed).

However, that momentum will only carry you so far. Every now and then (2-3 paragraphs, depending on length of your paragraphs) you'll need to dip back into play-by-play style. Both to reinforce the framework, and also as a way to show progression in the fight. Use it whenever one fighter gains an advantage over the other that wasn't there before. Or for (most) injuries. Or one fighter pulling out some tricksy move (the classic knocking over braziers, flipping tables, stuff like that). Or etc etc. Basically, defining moments of the fight. Once you've done that, you can pan back out. Rinse and repeat for however long you need/want the scene to be.