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Per popular request of the Ambage, we tried to create a script-comedy live in one of our skype sessions. Editing fell to me (I hate you guys) and here's the result. This will hopefully be the last of it's kind, so don't expect guest stars or even a second chapter.So here it is, a legendary event in BZPower's history: The epic writers of today harken back to their ancient days of "ask" studio comedies in a fit of nostalgia-fueled bad judgement! Critics are spread wide on this heavily controversial topic: --- [6:15:26 PM] Kakaru: HI GUYS THIS IS THE "ASK THE AMBAGE" SHOW, WHERE BZPOWER'S MOST PROLIFIC WRITERS ARE STUFFED IN A LITTLE ROOM UNTIL THEY DISCUSS BANNED MEMBERS AND OTHER HORRORS UNEARTHED FROM THE DARK CORNERS OF BZPOWER.[6:15:41 PM] Kakaru: SOUND OFF, WHO'S HERE TONIGHT.[6:15:43 PM] Zarayna: XDXDXD[6:15:50 PM] Kakaru: ZAR![6:16:13 PM] Zarayna: Zar is Nick and Nick is Zar, but Zar is not Nick and Nick is not Zar.[6:15:52 PM] Nick Silverpen: APPROVED.[6:15:55 PM] Kakaru: AND NICK![6:15:54 PM] Aderia: Not me. I'm busy having a lif.[6:16:00 PM] Kakaru: AND ADERIA IS BUSY.[6:16:11 PM] Kakaru: HAVING A LIF.[6:16:23 PM] Kakaru: UNDOUBTEDLY STOLEN FROM OUR WARHOUS.[6:16:48 PM] Kakaru: SPECIAL GUESTS INCLUDE THE NIGH TUGYS![6:17:00 PM] Kakaru: AND GROCHI, THE RESIDENT EVIL![6:17:06 PM] Zarayna: Well, Kakaru, from my latest statement, people might be thinking we're going a little insane here. What's your thoughts?[6:17:18 PM] Aderia: Were you here when I used "meese" as the plural of "moose"?[6:17:20 PM] Kakaru: I'M RUNNING THIS SHOW DARNIT.[6:18:00 PM] Zarayna: This is an ask comedy, and I asked you a question. Is it not your purpose to answer?[6:17:28 PM] Kal Grochi: I'm not the resident evil.[6:17:37 PM] Kakaru: Shh yes you are.[6:17:35 PM] Kal Grochi: I'm the resident wild card.[6:17:41 PM] Kal Grochi: The resident evil is probably Ced.[6:18:04 PM] Kakaru: CEDERAK IS NOT HERE.[6:17:55 PM] Kal Grochi: Maybe somebody else.[6:17:57 PM] Kal Grochi: Aderia, is it you?[6:18:11 PM] Kakaru: RRGH[6:18:13 PM] Aderia: He's like a strawberry biscuit, Grochi. You're just jealous.[6:18:14 PM] Kal Grochi: Like -that- ever happens.[6:18:19 PM] Kakaru: TWELVE SECONDS IN AND WE'RE ALREADY DERAILED.[6:18:32 PM] Kal Grochi: I love you guys. --- [6:24:02 PM] Kakaru: Okay, let's get this boat sunk.[6:24:04 PM] Kakaru: HI GUYS THIS IS THE "ASK THE AMBAGE" SHOW, WHERE BZPOWER'S MOST PROLIFIC WRITERS ARE TAUGHT NECROMANCY UNTIL ALL REMNANTS OF PRETENTIOUS NOTIONS OF GOOD WRITING ARE PURGED FROM THEIR MINDS AND THEY DIE.[6:24:11 PM] Kakaru: WHO'S HERE WITH US.[6:24:30 PM] Zarayna: Well, Kakaru, there appears to be a Zar present.[6:24:44 PM] Zarayna: Where do the others hide themselves?[6:24:58 PM] Kakaru: In our warhous.[6:24:52 PM] Aderia: In bunkers with skylights.[6:25:02 PM] Kakaru: Shh Aderia.[6:25:06 PM] Kakaru: Go back to the warhous.[6:25:05 PM] Zarayna: But we're already stuck in one bunker.[6:25:10 PM] Zarayna: Who wants to be in another?[6:25:20 PM] Kakaru: Is that a legitimate question?[6:25:27 PM] Kakaru: You know the cameras are rolling, right?[6:25:30 PM] Zarayna: Yes it is. Count your blessings I say![6:25:47 PM] Zarayna hits his head against the ceiling.[6:25:57 PM] Kakaru: Darnit Zar, stoppit.[6:26:06 PM] Zarayna: If you can't pass five, I think you can still list them all.[6:26:11 PM] Zarayna rubs his head.[6:26:14 PM] Kakaru: Our ceiling isn't covered by overhead costs.[6:26:31 PM] Kakaru: *rimshot*[6:26:36 PM] Kakaru: Get it?[6:26:42 PM] Zarayna: Yes, I noticed. At least it is better than the damage of Grochi's headbutting?[6:27:05 PM] Kakaru: Er, that's technically not covered by our insurance either...[6:27:10 PM] Kal Grochi: I only headbutt people.[6:27:13 PM] Kal Grochi: Not ceilings.[6:27:22 PM] Aderia: And play harmonica over voice chat.[6:27:19 PM] Kakaru: Hi Grochi also.[6:27:23 PM] Kakaru: Back in the box with you.[6:27:31 PM] Kakaru: Aderia no[6:27:32 PM] Kakaru: Back[6:27:32 PM] Zarayna: And it is detrimental to stomachs, not to mention life.[6:27:35 PM] Kal Grochi: I've been on the chat numerous times without doing tha-[6:27:39 PM] Kakaru: Shh Grochi.[6:27:38 PM] Kal Grochi: NO NOT THE BOX[6:27:40 PM] Kakaru: BACK[6:27:42 PM] Kakaru: BACK[6:27:43 PM] Zarayna: I think out insurance plan needs to be changed.[6:27:47 PM] Kal Grochi: Why do I have to be put in the box?[6:27:51 PM] Kakaru: NO[6:27:55 PM] Kakaru: THE CAMERAS GROCHI[6:28:02 PM] Kakaru: YOU ARE ON CAMERA[6:28:06 PM] Kal Grochi: Wait, camera—Oh.[6:28:00 PM] Aderia: Come on, Grochi. We're not appreciated here.[6:28:10 PM] Kal Grochi jumps back into the box.[6:28:13 PM] Kakaru: Shoosh.[6:28:15 PM] Kakaru: Okay no wait.[6:28:18 PM] Kakaru: Don't go forever.[6:28:30 PM] Kakaru: We need people to send questions in to Zar.[6:28:44 PM] Zarayna: Aren't you questioning me?[6:29:01 PM] Kakaru: I don't know, you seem to have a lot of questions of your own here.[6:28:17 PM] Zarayna: So Kakaru, we're in yet another boring day in this bunker. How do you rate the air today? I think it's a little less breathable. Why is that?[6:28:39 PM] Kakaru: Er, the air is uh[6:28:47 PM] Kakaru: poisoned.[6:28:52 PM] Zarayna: Right.[6:28:57 PM] Zarayna: Explains the good smell.[6:29:10 PM] Zarayna: At least death doesn't hurt too much.[6:29:09 PM] Kakaru: And yeah, arsenic smells like almonds.[6:29:15 PM] Kakaru: Not that I'd know.[6:29:17 PM] Kakaru: heh heh[6:29:22 PM] Aderia: How is that comedic?[6:29:29 PM] Zarayna: Kakaru, is there something you're not telling us?[6:29:35 PM] Kakaru: Dark humour is what all the cool kids are into.[6:29:47 PM] Aderia: Because BZP is so full of those.[6:29:17 PM] Zarayna: I guess I like turning the tables.[6:29:47 PM] Zarayna: Aderia, have you ever seen Zar trying to turn a table?[6:29:59 PM] Zarayna: He can carry them around, but he's never tried turning them.[6:30:15 PM] Zarayna: I understand after the first tries his spiked mace comes out.[6:30:21 PM] Nick Silverpen: Hey is anyone besides Aderia and me doing the write off?[6:30:30 PM] Kakaru: Woah hi Nick again.[6:30:36 PM] Nick Silerpen: Hey Kakaru.[6:30:36 PM] Kakaru: (someone close the studio doors!)[6:30:49 PM] Kakaru: (and the box lid!)[6:30:48 PM] Aderia: Eli! he forgot to close them on his way out![6:30:48 PM] Zarayna: Good lord brothers, let us write![6:30:54 PM] Aderia: Somebody kickban him.[6:31:13 PM] Kakaru: kickban Zar[6:31:17 PM] Kakaru: no wait shoot[6:31:18 PM] Zarayna: Comedy chapter one done.[6:31:20 PM] Zarayna: (Cut!)[6:31:31 PM] Kakaru: That could have gone worse.[6:31:46 PM] Kakaru: NOW THE AFTERPARTY[6:31:50 PM] Aderia: TASTE THE RAINBOW[6:31:53 PM] Kakaru: I HAVE PRETZELS[6:32:02 PM] Aderia: (skittles, anyone?)[6:32:04 PM] Zarayna: I have a ketboard.[6:32:06 PM] Zarayna: Let's write.[6:32:10 PM] Aderia: dude[6:32:13 PM] Aderia: i want a ket board[6:32:16 PM] Kakaru: Ketboards for lif.[6:32:22 PM] Aderia: Gotta be better than a clatterboard.[6:32:27 PM] Kakaru: hahahaha[6:32:38 PM] Kakaru: What are you saying about my presence in voice chats.[6:32:34 PM] Zarayna: ...[6:34:43 PM] Zarayna: Chapter one is 774 words![6:34:48 PM] Zarayna: THIS COMEDY ROCKS[6:35:29 PM] Kal Grochi: (Can I come out yet?)[6:35:31 PM] Aderia: ELI![6:35:41 PM] Aderia: You missed the afterparty.After editing, 1143 words. Zar is a liar and a vagabond.
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Looming The plains before the wall were slick and muddy from the recent rains, pockmarked with blackened craters and the crisscrossing spider-web of trenches long-abandoned. It was a daunting sight, but there was nothing for it now. Oen sprinted across a stretch of level ground—a quick dash, breathless, and slid down behind a ruined outcropping of stone. The savage shouts of his pursuers rang in the air behind him. They had seen him at last, after all his caution and stealth, after all the hours spent crawling through the mud and filth with the rain beating down on him, half-paralyzed with the fear of discovery. He had only just made it past the Skakdi outpost. He had almost been in the clear. A short sprint to the shelter of the gate, and the long journey would be over...but the light of morning had given him away. It could never have been that easy.Oen leaned out from his cover and scanned the ravaged field before him once more, waiting for his chance. The shapes on the horizon approached, hazy under a dull gray sky. The siege may have been lifted for a time, leaving the field before the wall empty of enemies, but the war was far from over. They would not let him reach the city alive.The patrol turned aside to search one of the trenches, and there was his chance. Oen leapt up and ran, feet pounding the dirt. A shout went up, and he dove forward, headlong into another ditch. Mud splattered across his Kanohi as the sound of burning death seared the air above him. They almost had him that time. He crawled forward, following the direction of the ditch. It went parallel to the wall for a distance, and then curved towards it. Quickly now. Quickly! His lungs were burning, and his muscles ached, but he had to go on. So close. So close to those walls. They had given everything to get him here. Everything. He could not fail them now.The ditch grew shallower, and soon he had no choice but to stand up and run forward in the open again. He was maybe a hundred bio from the wall now. The gate loomed on the left, and he was sure he could see the shapes of sentries on the parapets. They would see him. Surely they would: a small figure on the muddy, pockmarked plain below. They would see his pursuers at the very least. That would get their attention if nothing else. He was almost there. Almost there!Another shudder in the air behind him, and the earth exploded in a surge of sweltering heat to his right. He stumbled, but kept going, trying not to run in a straight line. Don’t look behind you, Oen. Don’t even look. The gate was close now. Surely he was within range!Another blast, closer this time, and he felt fire scorch the armor on his back. The shock from the blast sent him forward on his hands and knees, dazed and weak. Get up. Get up. You’re a sitting target. They’re drawing a bead on you right now. But it was hard...he was so weary, and there was no sign from the wall. What if they couldn’t see him? What if they didn’t care? He wasn’t fast enough...Was this the end? After all this time, after this long, desperate chase across the war-torn plains, he would die here on the edge of safety? Was that truly how it would end?No. The tablet was in his hand, and suddenly he was up again, running with faltering feet toward the distant wall, arm upraised. The symbol on the tablet flashed and flickered in the dull light as he surged forward. Can you see it? Can you? I’m here! Look! Look at me!And then he felt the heat at his back again, and the ripple in the air, and knew that they had him. Time seemed to slow, and he stumbled once more, hand still raised. His eyes closed, and he waited for the end.A flash of light blazed around him, and he felt the surge of energy scorch the air into smoke, as he fell forward—--but he did not die. A shadow fell over the ground, and a rush of expanding air washed over him. A hand gripped his shoulder, hauling him upright, and suddenly there was another mask staring into his face. A Mask of Teleportation, and then it was a Hau again, and another blast of energy poured over them, but it did not touch them. Strong arms lifted him, and the Toa spoke:“Cutting it close aren’t you, Matoran? Where is Toa Kitah?”“Sh-she—” he gasped, still dazed, “She d-didn’t make it.” The tablet was heavy in his hand. It had been Kitah’s, before she died. It was her Pass, her identification, before the cursed Skakdi burned a hole in her back. She had pressed it into his hands, as the life slipped from her.“Get going,” she had rasped in his ear. “Still...still a chance.”Her breath had rattled in her chest as they both lay hidden in the muddy ditch, and then she was gone. The last of his companions, gone. It was only him now...he was the last. He had wept bitterly, clamping his hands tightly over his mouth for fear of alerting the patrols. Harsh tears that were lost in the rain. You are the last...Suddenly Oen realized that a Suletu was staring down at him now. A moment passed, and the gray Toa nodded in understanding, his face strained with the weight of shared memory. They had given everything for him, everything they had...it was a heavy thought.But then the Toa’s eyes flicked up toward the horizon. The Kualsi was back, and the world reeled and flashed away as Oen, last survivor of the Millennium War, was carried to safety behind the Looming Wall. ------------ For the Ambage Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest. Theme: Tablet of Transit.JRRT
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The wind died suddenly, as if ashamed of its ferocity and the damage it had wrought. The fire borne upon it faded as well. Along with the danger so too, gradually, ended the fear of the villagers. They rose from their ruined town to rebuild what they could, although they knew the wind and the fire would return. It always did. The one structure untouched by the tempests every single time was the old Brotherhood fortress in the western hills outside the village. This understandably led to rumors that it was the source of the winds, and everything else for that matter. And it very well might have been; the word was that Rahkshi were periodically unleashed from the foreboding edifice, sent to run free and wreak havoc on the town.The diversity of these monstrosities meant that the damage was always different; be it plasma-charged tornados, a weakening plague of silence, or any other terrible result, the people of the village feared it all the same. These attacks were meant perhaps to keep the Matoran in check, although thoughts of rebellion of any sort had long ago been eradicated. Even hope of peace was merely a fiction to them now.This truth was unanimous save for a single person. He wore a weathered grey cloak, and nobody had seen him at all, save for his granite-hued feet and hands. The being’s voice was low and carried the weight of ages. The Walker, they called him. He was not of the same village, a nomadic traveler; still, he had remained there for a few weeks, his road onward being blocked by the ferocious windstorms, as well as their source.But at the end of the storms, as the villagers emerged, the Walker set out with a purpose, striding stoically through the rubble, off west towards the hills and the fortress. Nobody knew what he intended, nobody knew why; but they all stepped aside as he walked on. Straying from the village, though they knew not why, the Matoran silently lined the windswept dusty road into the hills. The path ended, and the traveler walked on; and still the Matoran followed in his wake. At last he reached the hills, not slowing down. Unblinkingly he drew a black, roughly triangular stone tablet from within his cloak, and continued on, clutching it in his right fist. Coming briskly and purposefully to the dread black gates, he raised his left arm across his chest without slowing, still a few bio away. Fingers splayed, he threw his arm horizontally away from him; the old iron flew open with a tremendous clang, and the Walker continued unfazed. His entourage slowly spilled through behind him, fanning out to either side.The being went on. The Matoran of the decimated village continued behind as if in a trance. At last the Walker stopped, immediately at the vast black doors. There was a flawless silence. Finally a great creaking of rust and blight cut the quiet off, as though of a beast unwilling to be shifted; but the great black doors began to slide apart. The crowd and their leader held like stones. Only darkness emanated from within the fortress; no light, no joy.The Walker noiselessly raised his arm, and held up the Tablet of Transit that he dared to carry. It was pointed towards the fortress, or rather the unseen occupants that no doubt lurked inside.Another rumbling sounded from within. This was undoubtedly movement, not the stationary weight of the doors. A large form stepped into the light, though it remained clothed perfectly in darkness. Bifold points flared to life, bright lavender in the dark, though they lit nothing but themselves. Whorls of pure emptiness, the essence of the dark, spiraled out from the imposing figure, shadowed eddies reaching toward the Matoran, creeping along the ground like baneful smoke towards their feet.Emboldened by the courage of the Walker, they remained where they stood, though whether this was truly foolishness or bravery, they did not know. The figure in the door still did not change his position, but an intense vibe of malevolence shone off of him. The Walker and his people did not move as black winds swirled around their heads. The tail of his cloak billowed to one side, though his hood stayed up, as did his hand, with the Tablet.The barrage of umbrage and dark power ended abruptly. The Makuta had clearly seen the triangular stone. He blinked and spoke, his voice rich and deep, echoing wisdom and earth, rather than the corruption and fear that his species was associated with.“You bear a Tablet of Transit. You... are a friend of the Makuta. I ask you, wise one, what is it you wish for these people?” He gestured to the Matoran.The Walker had had enough. "Life. Harmony. No more destruction.”“Perhaps I can do this. Give me the stone.” The Walker stepped forward. The shadows swirled thoughtfully about the rock, before it was lifted into the doorway and enveloped by the dark. The being in the door turned and walked inside. Before he was fully out of sight again, two lavender points gazed back over his shoulder. “You must know, wise one, that there is a price for using this.”“I know. That’s why I brought it.”The gates rumbled slowly shut. The Matoran began to slowly walk back to the ruins of their village, though the Walker stood right where he was. Nobody was still around that night to see him traipse off into the hills again.Two years had passed from the day of the Walker’s excursion. The village was prospering, the fortress was abandoned, and the attacks had ceased.A herald sprinted into the home of the town’s leader bearing melancholy news.An old Turaga of Iron had been found lying outside the town’s perimeter. He was dead, arms crossed on his chest, a cloak folded neatly beside him, and a smile on his face.Hope you all liked that. I decided to write another (better) entry, after my first one turned out poorly. Rings in at exactly 999 words! Decided to go with my strength- original, non-canon scenes and characters. This one portrays the Tablets themselves slightly differently than they are mentioned officially- more like a token than a free pass, if you know what I mean. Anyway, feedback is appreciated!EDIT- Just noticed I typoed the title. Son of a gun. Can I get that fixed somehow?
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A man sat in the balcony of the Senate Chamber, discussing politics. There were other voters and political activists. For some reason, he was the only person with his set of beliefs in the room. It was very discomforting. Some people began talking to him, and he didn't say much for his beliefs. He let them walk over him, let them listen to themselves talk. He would never convince them of the proper way to govern a country."Yes...Yes...Yes...I understand. I respect your views. I understand where you're coming from, but for my various reasons that are a bit too expansive to express all at this moment, I can't really see eye to eye on you with this issue."So he went, never quite taking a stand for himself.Suddenly a great rectangle, nearly thirty feet high and ten feet wide, opened in the middle of the floor. A great wind came forth. The rectangle was no physical object, but an image like a window. Many people panicked, not understanding, nor having the slightest idea of what was going on. There was heat, lots of it. The image, for those who dared look, was that of a pipe organ and alien architectures. Strange creatures came forth, but they parted as a tall man in a cape walked through them.He had the exact same face as the man who meekly debated with protesting voters in the Senate Chamber. There were a few physical differences between them, sure, considering that the one who came through the portal was much older and had a silver beard, but regardless, they seemed to be the different incarnations of the same man. The latter man stood straight, unaffected by the heat, not flinching in the face of strange monsters armed with blades and arrows."I am King Tijdschrift," said the strange, bearded man. His deep, melodious voice boomed and echoed throughout the chamber. "I rule the universe. Everyone bow before me."Some strange magic possessed the people to bow against their will, all except for the man who stood straight. He did not bow."Tom, I sent you to this Earth, born of human parents, to lead," said the King. "I conquered the rest of the universe with my silver tongue alone. You are my son, with all my gifts given to you, and yet you are unable to rise to greatness in this small pebble."Tom looked away."Look at me!"Tom refused."You may look like them, Tom, but you are not one of them. Do not make yourself humble. Rise. Be their leader. They are a great people, far superior to so many races across the universe, so long as they have a spark to make them catch fire. They can grow bright. These are people of the great Earth, and you are the salt of the Earth. Yet, you dilute yourself in the waters of the ocean. Tom, rise!""I am not God," said Tom. "I am only a man. I chose to live my life for other forms of greatness."And Tom was punished that day. Publicly, in plain site. The world saw this strange alien man beat his son, inflict him with seventy-seven lashes while security forces were helpless to stop the violence. Unknown powers were at play. However, the man named Tom survived, and King Tijdschrift left through his portal.Years later, Tom carried out his father's will, but only after attending to things more important, more human. Whatever it was that he felt he had to accomplish, nobody knows. Beyond his leadership of the human race, little was public knowledge. We historians still ponder what was important to him to this day.
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Theo payed an unexpected visit to his grandson's house."Who are you?" asked Michael."I am you grandfather, Theophilus Rhodes Zweifel," he said. He stood in the doorframe for a full beat before Michael turned around to look at a woman with short hair and bangs hanging in his face, the woman that Theo knew from the pictures in the newspapers was his granddaughter-in-law. What a shame he wasn't invited to the wedding.Ah, and how precisely like his father, Leonidas, did Michael appear. The same narrow features, the same princely looks, the same flaming orange hair that crowned the head of every man in the Zweifel family. It was a shame that Michael had lost his eyes in such a tragic accident."I'm not sure who you are, but you should leave," said Michael, and he closed the the door, but Theo blocked it with his foot."Not so fast, son," he said. "I know you lost your eyes, and you can't see me, but the physical resemblence that you have with your father, and therefore me...well, let's just say that my instinctive narcissism fills me with pride."That shy young lady, so thin, so hidden, slowly came up from behind Michael. He looked down to where he felt her hand on his arm. "He does look like you, just thought I'd mention it.""Well, regardless, you will let me in. I'm the current head of the treasury. I have some authority. Not that it demands that I be let in, but I'm an important man in the government all the same. It looks like the same could be said of you, Michael!"Michael backed up. Theo allowed himself entrance into the room, unashamed of himself."I'm familiar with the name. Head of banking or something like that," said Michael."You heard the name and didn't wonder if, by chance, that some Swiss immigrant with the same name as you was of some relation?" said Theo. "Well, as it happens, I have been unable to contact your father. Have you been in touch, Michael?""We don't talk.""Ah, like father, like son like grandson," said Theo. He leaned in with a smile. "I think that it's about time that we break that tradition. I would like to work with you, Micahel. You're perhaps the richest man alive thanks to your lucky investments. Very lucky investments, not to mention the surreal experiences you've gone through that make you quite unlike any man alive. Yet, you have no friends, only a wife and a sister to keep you company. What a strange hermit you are. With my help, I think this company you own could contribute to the world in brand new ways. What do you say?""Get out," said Michael."No, I don't think I will. See, I pulled some strings. I'm afraid that by several unique legal requirements, you must work with me. I just wanted to see if you would have shook my hand otherwise. Good day, Michael. I will see you tomorrow at work."Theo tipped his hat and left, flashing another evil smile. He was the luckiest grandfather in the world.
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Theo payed an unexpected visit to his grandson's house."Who are you?" asked Michael."I am you grandfather, Theophilus Rhodes Zweifel," he said. He stood in the doorframe for a full beat before Michael turned around to look at a woman with short hair and bangs hanging in his face, the woman that Theo knew from the pictures in the newspapers was his granddaughter-in-law. What a shame he wasn't invited to the wedding.Ah, and how precisely like his father, Leonidas, did Michael appear. The same narrow features, the same princely looks, the same flaming orange hair that crowned the head of every man in the Zweifel family. It was a shame that Michael had lost his eyes in such a tragic accident."I'm not sure who you are, but you should leave," said Michael, and he closed the the door, but Theo blocked it with his foot."Not so fast, son," he said. "I know you lost your eyes, and you can't see me, but the physical resemblence that you have with your father, and therefore me...well, let's just say that my instinctive narcissism fills me with pride."That shy young lady, so thin, so hidden, slowly came up from behind Michael. He looked down to where he felt her hand on his arm. "He does look like you, just thought I'd mention it.""Well, regardless, you will let me in. I'm the current head of the treasury. I have some authority. Not that it demands that I be let in, but I'm an important man in the government all the same. It looks like the same could be said of you, Michael!"Michael backed up. Theo allowed himself entrance into the room, unashamed of himself."I'm familiar with the name. Head of banking or something like that," said Michael."You heard the name and didn't wonder if, by chance, that some Swiss immigrant with the same name as you was of some relation?" said Theo. "Well, as it happens, I have been unable to contact your father. Have you been in touch, Michael?""We don't talk.""Ah, like father, like son like grandson," said Theo. He leaned in with a smile. "I think that it's about time that we break that tradition. I would like to work with you, Micahel. You're perhaps the richest man alive thanks to your lucky investments. Very lucky investments, not to mention the surreal experiences you've gone through that make you quite unlike any man alive. Yet, you have no friends, only a wife and a sister to keep you company. What a strange hermit you are. With my help, I think this company you own could contribute to the world in brand new ways. What do you say?""Get out," said Michael."No, I don't think I will. See, I pulled some strings. I'm afraid that by several unique legal requirements, you must work with me. I just wanted to see if you would have shook my hand otherwise. Good day, Michael. I will see you tomorrow at work."Theo tipped his hat and left, flashing another evil smile. He was the luckiest grandfather in the world.
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BetrayedThe battered Le-Matoran glanced nervously at the imposing fortress of cold, dark stone that stood before him. His armour was chipped, scratched and dented from a long journey, and the remnants of a travelling cloak he wore little more than rags. His once bright green armour had stained to a muddy shade of brown during his travels, and his eyes were dim. His hands trembled as he began to limp toward the fortress, his right leg twisted at an odd angle.He had been told that the cracked stone tablet held in his shaking fingers would save him at the end of his journey, and that he should protect it with his life. That he had done, and had paid dearly for. A rockslide caused several islands back had ruined his leg, and an unintentional dip in a dense mud pool had made him unrecognizable.It was the garbled, alien hissing that slowed him to an unsteady halt so close to an ancient wooden gate that he could almost taste it. His breath started to come out in ragged gasps and he found it hard to breathe.Until now the Le-Matoran had never witnessed a Rahkshi outside of the stories his old Turaga used to tell. Now with the creature staring at him from the other side of the gate, he noticed that the stories did the Rahkshi no justice. They were far, far worse in person. He could hear the Kraata squelching as it squirmed within the shell; the way the Rahkshi’s spine curled slowly first one way, then the other. The staff of the Rahkshi was glowing softly as if already in use, as if it were already busy injecting pure fear into him.With trembling hands and weak arms, the Le-Matoran slowly lifted the stone tablet up, offering it to the old oaken gate. The Rahkshi let out a faint hiss and it reached a smoothly armoured hand through the crisscrossing wooden beams, latching onto the tablet and prying it out of the Matoran’s hands. He watched as the Rahkshi seemed to inspect the cracked tablet, before it let out a high-pitched shriek. The Le-Matoran clapped his hands over his audio receptors, wincing as the harshly high-pitched noise sliced through his head. He shut his eyes tightly and doubled over in an attempt to drown the sound out. After a minute it ended abruptly, a hoarse voice that sounded as if it had not been used in many years speaking to the Rahkshi in front of him. The Matoran stood up slowly, involuntarily flinching when he saw the Makuta. The Makuta spared him no more than a passing glance, seemingly more interested in the tablet now in his hand.The Matoran fought back the urge to scream when the Makuta dropped the tablet to the ground and then crushed it under his foot, grinding it into dust for good measure. The Le-Matoran stumbled back as the Makuta passed through the gate, but did not fight back as the Makuta grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air. Fear clouded the Matoran’s mind, paralyzing him so that he could not speak to ask what was going on.A second later it was too late for the Matoran to do anything. The Makuta flung his arm and let go; the Le-Matoran flopped to the ground, scattering a few stray pebbles as he landed with a final crunch. A small breeze picked up, scattering the dust of the tablet across of the ground as the Makuta passed back through the gate, nodding to the Rahkshi before vanishing from sight without glancing back at the Matoran so easily betrayed.The End.Eh, it's not that great, but I'm not gonna have any more time to write up a new entry or edit this one more, and I must post it to enter.-ibrow
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Something a Makuta Never DoesGali spun around, landing hard in the mud. She grimaced and rose, just in time to be blindsided by the Makuta’s Nynrah missile. Slamming to the ground for another time, the Toa of Water found that she was unable to move her mechanical components. The cacophony of the surrounding aerial battles was drowned out by the pounding in her ears. Despite this she could hear the next words perfectly.“Tsk tsk,” the spindly white Makuta muttered in a viciously calculating, yet somehow sympathetic voice. “I must admit I expected slightly better from you, as you are a Toa Nuva. Well then.”There was a slight rushing noise like a cold wind as Krika stepped elegantly next to the fallen Toa. Suddenly she whirled back up, preparing to counter his attacks, but he struck again swiftly, pinning her arms to the muck with his insectoid limbs. Before she could make another move, before she had time to concentrate, he had swung her unceremoniously onto his back and ascended into the mist, hovering over the brackish Pit water and the bizarre vegetation. As Gali returned to her senses she realized that they were traveling away from the other Toa and Makuta of Karda Nui. Where was he taking her? And why?Reaching a clearing ringed by sickly trees, Krika alighted on a mostly solid patch, and dropped Gali off his shoulders with surprising gentleness. The Ga-Toa rolled over and groaned, shaking her head. Then she looked up at Krika.“Why have you brought me here? Why not just… kill me?” She was not fearful, but somewhat curious; in her experience the Karda Nui Makuta usually were more brutal and direct, not insidiously plotting, like Teridax or Mutran were. Gali silently prepared to manipulate the mutagenic water to wash Krika away, but she decided to hear him out before acting. In a hushed voice that lacked his previous severity, he began. "I am doing something a Makuta never does… I am offering mercy.”Gali was momentarily confused by this apparent change in heart. Was Krika sincere? Or was he merely toying with the Toa of Water? But his offer continued.“Flee, Gali. Leave this place, go anywhere in this universe, but do… not… stay… in Karda Nui." Ah, she knew this was a plot, now. Feigning sympathy in order to get the Nuva out of the equation. A bit less violent than the majority of the Makutas’ plans, but that would just make it more convincing. She decided that Krika was smart enough to know that it wouldn’t fool six Toa; it must be directed specifically at her, then. Not the most solid idea, but the alternative was even more unbelievable, Gali thought. “Why do you want me gone? Or… do you just want one less Toa in Karda Nui?”Krika sighed. “You would have made a good Makuta, Gali.” Another attempt to fool her… though an odd one, to be sure. But the Makuta continued. “You are far too clever to be a Toa. I tell you this…” Ah, this wasn’t good. Krika knew she was aware of his plan. “You Toa Nuva are here to awaken the Great Spirit Mata Nui, a mission that requires all six of you… I tell you…” Had he hesitated then…? She wasn’t sure. Her concept of understanding the Makuta’s deception was being weakened. Krika continued with more conviction. “…And I tell you that if you do that, you and everything you know will be doomed to a future more horrible than you can imagine. Leave now, and that future… cannot!... come to pass.”Gali suddenly had radical thoughts. Was Krika really warning her of danger? Did he feel in some way compassion for the Toa in general, or just Gali? Was he rebelling against the other Makuta? Gali wasn’t sure what to say. Krika began to say something else, but suddenly he cried out and shot out above Gali, landing gracelessly in the swamp behind her. He hissed and pitched forward, a yellow haze smoking off his back. The Toa of Water turned back to see a foreboding grey and white titan before her, like some vision of terrible untruth. She tensed, ready to leap up and attack him. In his clawed hands, she saw, was a glowing blade of golden energy. Her eyes traveled up the being’s body to his mask. And to her horror it resembled… the Avohkii?“Takanuva?” Gali was quite surprised. “Is that really… you? But your armor, your mask…! What happened to you?” The warped Toa sighed much as Krika had not a moment before the Av-Toa’s own arrival.“I’ll explain later. For right now… we need to find the others. If I’m right, everyone in this swamp has only hours to live.” Gali reeled. Was Krika telling the truth after all? Or was some unknown suicidal plan concocted by the six Makuta coming to fruition? Gali shook her head to clear her thoughts. Right now she needed to meet with the other Toa. She decided not to share with them her encounter with Krika, however. - - - With a roar the three vehicles soared off out of the Codrex, the engines’ din reverberating around the giant metallic sphere. Gali, Tahu, Takanuva and Onua stood in silence, gazing off into the foggy swamp through the circular openings near the ceiling. The previous events had left Gali’s mind, preoccupied as she was by the task they were in the midst of.But outside the Codrex, in the middle of a newly vacant clearing, there lay a stone tablet half-enclosed by the murky water, bearing the seal of the Kraahkan upon it, lying just where Gali had unknowingly left it.So, there goes my first entry for this week, my second flash-fiction piece overall. (I may write another, hopefully better entry.) I've gotta say for this one... meh. I had a good idea which evaporated somewhere along the line, and I was left with an awkwardly expanded version of a scene from the comics. Decided to keep and post it anyway. This is based off the comics, by the way, taking the same dialogue and all that- I didn't work off the same scene's depiction in the books, as I haven't read 'em. There are nine-hundred-forty-something words in here, for the record. Anyway, tell me what you think, I suppose.
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SO YEAH I GUESS I HAVE LIKE 240 POINTS OR SOMETHING SINCE I DID SEVERAL OF THESE MORE THAN ONCE NOT THAT IT MATTERS BUT I SUPPOSE THAT I SHOULD LOG THESE SINCE I'M A SLIGHTLY MORE INVOLVED AMBAGE MEMBER NOW Into the Sky(pe)! - Participate in a Skype Write Off (5 Points) Home Row Heavyweight - Finish a write off story with over 600 words. (15 Points) Manuscript Kiddie Pool - Post a short story. (10 Points) The Daunting Task - Post an epic. (15 Points) Not For the Faint of Heart - Write a substantial adventure. (10 Points) It's Close to Midnight… - Write a substantial thriller. (10 Points) Wrote one. 115 Do. Or do Not. There is No Try - Write a substantial sci-fi story. (10 Points) Vague Subject Matter - Post a story in Completely Off Topic. (10 Points) Here Lies Punctuation - Find at least 10 grammar/spelling errors in a story. (5 Points) Critical Thinking - Substantially review a short story. (10 Points) A Lovely Contestant - Participate in an official BZP Writing contest. (10 Points) Challenge Accepted - Enter an Ambage-hosted contest. (10 Points) I Don't do This for Free - Make Andrew beg you to write a story for him. (20 Points) Worth A Thousand Words - Create a piece of art for an Ambage project. (10 Points) No Rules! No Rules! - Fail to log your achievements for confirmation. (10 points) Dude, Where's My Anthology? - Take charge. (50 points) Troublemaker - Get banned from the Skype writeoff group five times. (20 points) Accredited - Use a conversation from the Ambage to write a college-level discourse. (30 points) Green and Purple - The official chat sucks anyways. (10 points) Salted Watermelon - Join the Ambage. (10 points) Before It Was Cool - Transfer membership to the Ambage from the BAG or other previous BZPower critics club. (20 points) An Cool Dude - Revise your story to make it BZPower-appropriate. (10 points) Cheating the System - Make your own achievement. (10 points) Can't Stop Me Now - Create over ten custom achievements. (20 points) Death Row - Get banned from the Skype Writeoff Group Indefinitely. (100 points) Saturday Night Massacre - Ban at least three Ambage members from the Skype chat in one night. (100 points) Come On Come On Hit Me - Ask to be banned. (20 points) Never Dead - Come back after being banned forever. (20 points)
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Ambage-Hosted Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest Entry List Theme #1: Red Star Entry #1:Member Name: Danska: Shadow MasterTheme: The Red StarWord Count: 804Link to Story and Title: The Hole in the SkyEntry #2:Member Name: Quote (Mr.Traveler) [aka: Grant-Sud]Theme: The Red StarWord Count: 998Link to Story: Weeping StarsEntry #3:Member Name: iBrow VoltexTheme: The Red StarWord Count: 804Link to Story: In the MourningEntry #4:Member name: ChroTheme: The Red StarWord count: 995 (approx.)Link to story: SnowfallEntry #5:Member Name: Clockwork KineticistTheme: The Red StarWord Count: 325Link to Story: CheckmateEntry #6:Member Name: TolkienTheme: Red StarWord Count: 985Link: Hue #1471Entry #7:Member Name: Lord DarkonTheme: Red StarWord Count: 557Link to Story and Title: CrimsonEntry #8:Member Name: dotcomTheme: Red StarWord Count: 844Link to Story and Title:Crimson Note
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Ambage-Host Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest Entry List Theme #1: Pathfinding Entry #1:Member Name: Nuile: Lunatic WordsmithTheme: "Pathfinding"Word Count: 921 (epigraph included)Link to Story and Title: That Extra MileEntry #2:Member Name: Nuile: Lunatic WordsmithTheme: "Pathfinding"Word Count: 868Link to Story and Title: Rugged ExplorersEntry #3:Member Name: Danska: Shadow MasterTheme: PathfindingWord Count: 922Link to Story and Title: A Jaunt in the WoodsEntry #4:Member Name: ZaraynaTheme: PathfindingWord Count: 1,000 words.Link to Story and Title: We Wanted Those Infidels Dead!Entry #5:Member Name: Delicious Chocolate Milk (Eyru)Theme: PathfindingWord Count: 427Link to Story and Title: Beyond the ConstellationsEntry #6:Member Name: AderiaTheme: PathfindingWord Count: 914Link to Story and Title: Someone's Waiting For YouEntry #7:Name: Emissary to the VoidTheme: PathfindingWord Count: 992 (excluding title)Story: Julia's DinerEntry #8:Member Name: dotcomTheme: PathfindingWord Count: 997Story: The Wrong PathEntry #9:Member name: KakaruTheme: PathfindingWordcount: 964Story: Accomplishment
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Entry for fortnightly flash fiction contest since Andrew asked and oh no I don't have any homework at all and wasn't planning on writing one of my other stories for the Ambage at all but who's complaining am I right. Theme: Pathfinding. Wordcount: 964I feel lost. That's not even an awful metaphor either. I literally am not aware of my physical surroundings in their relation to where I want to be. Absolutely lost.The walls are white, painted cement like I remember them being for years. The ceilings are lit by rows of bright fluorescent lights, stretching endlessly down the halls. The floor is black and smells of rubber or crude oil. Petroleum based, anyways. Not like I care. The smell is awful, that's the important thing. When I recall my past in here, it seems --as though a vague mental image-- that it was almost a year ago. The floors have been getting darker and my lungs seem to grate with every breath.I hear footsteps padding down the hall, somewhere around the next corner. I slow down as I approach the next intersection and press myself against the wall. Within seconds the muted echoes approach and I plant a solid fist in the runner's stomach, sending him sprawling across the floor. I look down at his face with an immense amount of guilt as he gasps for breath. There are no mirrors in this place, true, but an external sense tells me that the face of this man is my own. Whether a clone, an apparition, or simply a psychological trick, I no longer care. I put my foot against his throat and do what I've done this entire time, to survive. I know that I am the only one in this maze, quite literally. Every version of myself that I've cut off through decisions in the past have been merged to a single universe, where I've been forced to confront every version of myself and destroy them. I suppose whoever engineered this think of it as am amusing metaphor, that I literally have to kill off every bad decision I've made and come to terms with who I've become in that time, but all I see is a twisted reality where I've become a killer.As his body dissipates into the ground, the stench of rubber seems to grow ever so slightly.I continue down the halls, feeling more cheated with every kill. I feel sick that I'm becoming desensitized to this, that the moral problems and emotional impact is dulled as my methods become more brutal, merciless, and stunningly effective.I make a right at the next intersection, followed by two lefts, a flight of stairs, and another right. There's no method to my choices any more. I used to agonize over the psychology of the maze, how every corner could be a setup to drive me into doing exactly what they want-- whoever they are. But now I just blindly decide on a whim, snapping back and forth, stopping occasionally to listen for the footsteps of myself.Oh, speak of the devil. Another apparition runs past a crossroad ahead, screaming. I lunge forward and give chase. My breaths come heavy now. The death toll of the day is starting to wear. I'll probably take a nap after this one. He's wearing a straitjacket. I quicky match his speed as he turns a corner. I twist my leg around his and plant my foot on the ground, effectively collapsing his gait. I grab his neck and arm as I pull my leg back, slamming him face-first into the ground with a splintering crack. His body slowly disintegrates into a swirling black mass, like a swarm of flies that crawl into the black floor. My stomach is upset and I slump against the wall, directly across from a doorway.Wait. There are no doors in this maze. I haul myself to my feet, wavering, and nearly puke with the excitement of this find. I take one step forward, then two, then I brace myself against the opposite wall with one hand and stop to take a deep breath and calm my stomach. I tentatively slide my fingers around the brass knob. It's cold, shiny and perfectly smooth. It's probably never been touched by my hand. I crack it open, and before I have time to regret my decision, I close my eyes and swing the door wide open.I sit up with a start, my fingers still clenched in midair. The hum of medical equipment fills the silence my ears had been accustomed to in the maze. The walls are still white, but there's something different. My body goes cold as I move my legs, realizing that it feels so different than what I had been doing in there. A doctor stands to my side, frowning."The training was supposed to go on for six weeks more," he remarked. Was he angry, disappointed, or was that just an observation? The feeling of being cheated fills my mind."May I refresh your mind? It's possible that the months in there have erased some of your memories. You are in a military training facility. Here we give you the most difficult of all tasks so that you may be ready for anything in the battlefield. You must know how to kill, and you must see the look in your own eyes as you do so. What have you learned?"None of this sounds familiar. This doesn't sound like something I would voluntarily ask for, and I feel no sense of duty or accomplishment at his words. It all just seems pointless. I stand up and waver for a moment as I regain my balance. Suddenly a new sensation fills my mind and I can't seem to push it back to my subconscious. The feel of solid ground beneath my feet. I'm no longer lost.I grab the doctor by the collar with only a tingling sense of regret in my mind."Let me show you."
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~ ENIM SAPIENTIA ~ ~~~ Down an unknown road To embrace my fate Though that road may wander It will lead me to you ( - From "Go the Distance" by David Zippel ) ~ * ~ The path ambled along through the rolling hills, stretching away farther than the eye could see. We made our progress slowly, she and I; there was nothing in the world to hurry us and everything to encourage delay."Beautiful weather," I observed."It's a beautiful view."I smiled at the silken screen of hair that cascaded down the back of her head. "It certainly is."She let out a happy sigh. "Sometimes--sometimes I just wish I could walk forever.""Free of worry, free of care. Under the golden sunlight by day and the starlight by night.""And when it rains I would dance in it. I would laugh at the thunder. And when the sun came back its grin would dry me.""It sounds wonderful.""It does. Just to walk. . . .""And who would be walking with you?"She tensed. I looked away and quickly introduced a different topic. "It's amazing the way the hills are all so alike and yet somehow different. Sort of like people.""People aren't all alike.""Oh, but they are. At the bottom of every heart there are the same thoughts, the same dreams. Every heart has the--the same love. Some people just forget that. Some never find it. Some ignore it.""Jacob--" But she broke off."Rachel, I care about you. You know that, don't you?"She hesitated. Then she said, "Some have to wait for love.""Wait to find it?""Yes, some. But others who've already found it have to wait for the right time."She bit her lip. We walked on.All too soon there came a fork in the path. A side road branched off the main. We paused and turned to face one another. "Which way are you going?" I asked. I knew the answer, but I dreaded it. Somehow I hoped feigning ignorance would buy me a few more moments.She did not respond. She couldn't say it. She only murmured in a tone thick and strained, "Goodbye, Jacob.""Rachel, please . . ." But I didn't know what I was asking. I examined my shoelaces with a shrug of my shoulders. "'Bye, I guess."She turned away, hugging her shoulders. Her gracile figure sidled away along her path as I began along mine. But before she escaped earshot I turned with sudden fervor and called out to her."Remember what I told you! I care about you. That won't change. Even when paths branch apart, they come back together. They intersect again."She looked at me. Her eyes were moist and her cheeks glistened in the sunlight. Yet for all that she beamed at me. "I know it." ~ * ~ The next evening I was traveling my lonely path when another came up alongside it, running parallel. Somehow I sensed, before I even looked across the verge, that Rachel was there.She looked happy. Was there an almost haunted quality to her eye, or did I imagine it? I couldn't be sure. I only caught the corner of its deep beauty before she turned her head in the other direction without even glancing at me. I turned, too.Neither of us spoke. It would have been too painful. So close and yet so very far.But beneath the ache in my chest there was something else. Buried far beneath my skin, constrained by the twisting of my heart, it was there: joy. Just a faint glimmer of delicious joy. And somehow through the pain that little joy made me feel as light as air.Did she feel it?Ahead the paths diverged. As soon as I caught sight of it I halted. After a few paces, she did the same. My heart pounded as I stood there, gazing at the back of her head, hoping.She turned. She smiled. My heart soared.I stepped to her side, keeping on my path but not taking my eyes off her for a moment. I ravenously devoured each passing second spent staring at her. She flushed under my gaze; but the rosy tint to her medium-dark cheeks only made her the more beautiful."I miss you."She met my gaze with eyes that glowed brighter than the first stars appearing overhead. "I miss you, too."In tacit concordance we turned and walked on until our paths separated once more.And I kept walking. ~ * ~ That's the hard part. To keep walking. To go on and never falter. To know the only way back is forth.The world passes by me with each step. But I keep going because it's empty. I fill it with what good I can when I can; but there's nothing left in it, not for me.I wonder where she is and I wonder where my path is taking me. I wonder about many things. My mind brims with the swelling ranks of unanswered questions.But what can I do but go onward? With patience and perseverence I have to fight my way forward. Along the way I strive to make myself into a man worthy of her. She is like a distant star guiding me along. It is day and I cannot see her, but I know she is there, and I follow her.Someday our paths will reconnect. Until then I'll continue wandering; but my heart will never stray. For my Rachel I'll go that extra mile. Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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The warm golden fingers of the crepuscule were withdrawing. The gilt was melting off the trees' leaves, leaving the auburns and ochers of autumn to their own polychrome. A chill wind whistled through the branches, with a nuance of humidity that foreboded rain. Below, gloom was gathering among the tree trunks. Leaves crunched beneath the feet of two peripatetics as they sought their way through the forest. It was a relaxing stroll gone awry.One was a short boy with unkempt yellow hair. His ears were small and his mouth antithetical in size. Dressed too sparingly for the collecting cool he shivered, his arms folded.His companion was nearly twice his height, with unusually short legs and long torso. Beneath an orange and black coat he was contentedly toasty.Asked the former, "Haven't we passed that same stump seven times?""What makes you say that?""The moss growing on it looks like a three-headed space alien with tentacles."The other scratched his chin. "You know, I do remember that. I think you're right." He frowned. "But that's the first time today." He rolled his eyes and walked on."Hey, I wasn't leading when we got lost, remember? You wanted to lead, and I was benevolent enough to let you.""Benevolent!" the lanky scoffed. "You've lived here your whole life! You must have been in these woods hundreds of times! Don't you know where we are?""You've been here as many times as I have, fuzz-brain.""Always with you leading. You never let me before. How should I know my way?""What happened to that instinct you always brag about? You should be able to find your way out ""I'd be able to smell my way out of here if someone hadn't avoided his bath last night.""Then why'd you help me hide?""I didn't think our lives would depend on my nose!""If that ever happens we'll be doomed. You couldn't smell your way out of a paper bag.""I'd like to see you try it!""I'll find my way and without my nose.""Then why don't you?""It would be easier if you would keep quiet," the yellow-haired boy retorted. "And if my foot wasn't throbbing with every step!""I told you not to cross that log. It was too high.""You could have told me a little louder.""Is that rain?" The taller companion raised his face to the sky. A large, fat drop landed on his nose with a plop. He squirmed with distaste. "Great, now we'll be lost and wet.""Didn't I tell you the forecast said it would rain today?""Just because they're lucky every now and then when their psychics are right doesn't mean there's any reason to believe them.""I'm surprised you couldn't sense the rain with your 'instinct.'"As the rain fell harder their dissentient discussion rapidly developed into an altercation, an event not at all out of the ordinary."Look, pal, if you don't keep quiet I'm gonna leave you out here in the cold alone!""If you do you'll only die of starvation while I find my way home. Lemme go!"With a fist to his captor's stomach the yellow-haired boy freed himself. He received a kick to each shin in retaliation. Best of friends and best of foes, they broke into fisticuffs in earnest."Why don't you take a long walk on a skyscraper?" snapped the taller."Dr. Frankenstein called today, he wants his monster's brain back!""Your lips are moving but I only hear a buzzing sound coming out!""That must be your brain sizzling!""Slob!""Noodle-head!"A new voice broke into the racket. "Calvin! Calvin!"The contenders broke apart. Quoth the shorter, "Mom?""Calvin? Calvin, where are you?""Over here, Mom! Over here!"Crashing through the brush she appeared beside them. She held a flashlight in one hand that illuminated her face. It was a contorted mixture of choler and relief."Where--have--you--been?""We got lost, Mom! It's Hobbes's fault! He was leading the way, but he had no clue where he was going.""Don't tell lies!""But it's the truth! Hobbes has no sense of direction!""He couldn't have got you lost and you know that. He's just a--Oh!" Without warning she fell to her knees and wrapped her son in her arms. "I'm just glad you're all right! Let's get you home and into a warm bath."An hour later, snug and cozy in his bedroom, Calvin gazed from his window. The moonlight glazed the treetops with silver, setting each raindrop scintillating like the stars above. From here the woods, so frightening and frustrating not long before, became picturesque, even halcyon."You know, Hobbes," he sighed, "getting lost wasn't so bad, after all. Not when you look back on it.""It could have been worse. We might never have found our way home. It was still a bit scary, though.""Not as much as it would have been alone. Together, it wasn't so bad. Finding your way is a lot easier when you have a friend to help you find it.""It's even easier on a full stomach," the tiger countered. "Let's go back tomorrow--but after dinner, okay?" Sincerely, Nuile: Lunatic Wordsmith
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The Ambage-hosted Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest Welcome, one and all, to the Ambage-hosted Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest! Be sure to read all of the Contest Rules and Important Information. With the success of the Flash Fiction Marathon, as well as the want of added perks for Ambage members, we bring you the Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest. These contests are hosted by the Ambage hosts.----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Contest Rules and Important Information [*]There will be a new contest every other week. The contests will alternate between Bionicle and COT.[*]Each contest will last two weeks. The first week will be the entry period, the second week will be the judging period.[*]Every COT contest will take place in this topic. Instead of creating a million topics, as this will be a recurring contest once a month (with a two-week Bionicle contest in between), I will be updating this post with the current contest and make a post announcing the new contest each time. Remember, these will be once a month, so keep checking back (and participate in the Bionicle ones, too!).[*]Each entry should be between 400-800 words. This is flash fiction. The absolute maximum word count is 1000 words, there is no absolute minimum.[*]Each contest will have a new theme. Keep checking back for the new contest's theme.[*]COT entries are not allowed to be Bionicle. That's what the Bionicle themes are for. And vice versa. Save your COT stories for the COT contests.[*]For each theme, contestants will have one week to enter. The next week will comprise of judging. The next two weeks after that will be a Bionicle contest. Then another COT contest and so forth.[*]Entries will be judged. All contests will have at least two judges. Judges will not enter.[*]You must post your stories in a topic. Unlike the Flash Fiction Marathon, you cannot just post your entries in this topic. Please make a topic for your stories.[*]All entries must adhere to BZPower's rules and guidelines. There shouldn't be any problem here.[*]Your story must be new and never before posted on BZP. You can certainly have been working on your entry before this, but it must be posted on BZP onlyafter the start of the contest for it to be eligible. The exception is if you are a member of the Ambage and were given the theme before hand.[*]Keep it PG-13-ish appropriate. So no gory descriptions, excessive violence, inappropriate content, et cetera.[*]You cannot edit your entry once the entry period has closed. Editing will be allowed until then. If editing is done after the deadline, your entry will be disqualified.[*]This contest is open to all BZP members. However, there are perks to being an Ambage member. See the Prizes section.[*]There will be prizes for each contest. Read the Prizes section for more.[*]Each contestant is allowed THREE entries for each theme. You may of course write more, but only three flash fiction stories can be entered into the contest. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------How To Enter: There will be two main topics, one for COT (this topic), and one for Bionicle; make sure you post your entry in the right topic. If you are entering a Bionicle theme, post in the Bionicle topic.To enter, please use this form:Member Name: [your name goes here]Theme: [include what theme you are entering]Word Count: [insert the word count of your story here]Link to Story and Title: [provide a link to your story with the title as name] ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Current Theme: Theme #4: Christmas Any interpretation of the theme is valid, but your entry must be a COT story and it must adhere to the rules posted above. Also, if you are an Ambage member, keep in mind the December Writing Prompt (to get more achievements): "She had hair like a raven's wings--and a beak to match." ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Themes Archive: Theme #1 Theme #2 Theme #3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Prizes The winner of each contest will receive the following: [*]A custom member title for a month, stating "Bionicle/COT Writer of the Month" courtesy of Hahli Husky[*]A spotlight on the front page of BZPower at the end of the month, along with the Bionicle contest winner.[*]For Ambage members only: A review by an Ambage judge.[*]For Ambage members only: A spotlight in the Ambage topic. Feel free to post any questions here.Your hosts,Velox55555TolkienNuile
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Weeping Stars Special.It was the first thing that came to her mind when he started to cough again. She stared down at his body, spread out on the bed half covered in sheets, the other half exposed to fresh air. He was constantly either with a fever or shivering with the chills.A face, puffed up under the eyes, red at the cheeks. Lines under the eyes brought up from all the late nights, stricken with tiredness. But that was her face, not his.She moved the hair from her eyes and placed a cool towel on the young Toa’s head. He was breathing easily, but it was shallow. He didn’t get a coughing fit all the time, but each time he did it only reminded her of how much time he had left. He was a wielder of stone, so he was meant to be stronger than this.At least that’s what he believed.They were both Toa. She was one of Psionics, and he was one of Stone. Living as two of the guardians in their village wasn’t always easy. Matoran, people similar to them in every way except for their special abilities, constantly asked for requests and help. They were so different when they both discovered their power over the elements a few years back. They were almost total opposites in everything, mind and strength, humble and proud, even their skin color, white and dark brown.But… there had been an attraction. And years later, now married and surprisingly happy, they didn’t seem so different any more.They just seemed like one person.And she was about to lose her other half.“Are you okay?”She glanced his way and smiled, standing above him next to the bed right beside the nightstand. He wasn’t even looking at her, just staring up into the night sky by the window. She had just gotten back from a dispute going on in the village. Usually she would have taken her time. Today, she simply ended the silly brawl, forcefully.Today was not the day for pointless distractions.“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” she replied, frowning.“You know how I am,” he said, finally looking at her. He wasn’t downhearted, and he seemed comfortable.It had struck only weeks before. He started to feel dizzy on patrol, tired often. Then he started to vomit and get headaches.It was an ‘infection’, the local doctor had told them, a Makuta virus that could have been obtained from anything, from anywhere. Sometimes it took effect over physical bodies, or the mind, but it was usually something that could be cured.But this one was different, he had told them. It was attacking one organ in the Toa of Stone’s body, the heart. And there was no known way to counteract it now.“Would you mind grabbing me something…”“Anything,” she said, quickly, quietly. There was no light in the room, because the glare made his headache worsen. Only the stars gave them a soft light.“…I really, really want a chocolate chip cookie. A large one.”She almost laughed aloud as tears sprang to her eyes.“Oh yeah? The ones you like, at the bakery, right?”***When she returned he looked worse.The local baker was well aware of her husband’s condition. The two had been friends for years since the Toa of Stone had stopped a fire at the establishment.With a saddened look, he had given her the cookie for free. A large one, just like he liked it.Sitting on the bed, she handed him the cookie, now unwrapped, and he started to break it apart at the edges, placing each piece in his mouth.“I’m going to miss this the most…” he broke off a piece and gave it to her. She ate it, not hungry. As she chewed she kept her eyes on him. “The little things, see, the daily events that don’t seem important. Those are my most cherished memories with you.”His eyes seemed a little blurry, his breathing weaker. He reached out with his fingers, slowly wrapping them around her nearest hand.She started to choke up, so she leaned in and pressed her forehead to his. She didn’t want to keep watching him.And then he started to whisper.“I had a dream, of us. In Paradise, on this planet that never seemed to end…” she started to open her eyes, not knowing if he was delirious or not. “Our friends were all there, even the ones we’ve lost. Your sister was there. I was there… We’re all happy, we’re safe.”“K-kinda like in Artahka right?” she said, smiling and whispering back. But she didn’t believe a word of what he said.“No. This place was real. I saw it.” He stared up at her, and she forced herself to believe what he said, even though she didn’t understand.“I’ll be back. At some time and place. And I promise I’ll see you again…”***She walked out of the house, feeling the crisp winter air biting at her skin. It was somewhat refreshing though. Cool and real. She was lost right now, her mind numb. Her husband had passed away only moments ago.She glanced around, Matoran were watching her, their eyes all asking the same question. They all knew the answer.Reflexively she brought a hand to her mouth, taking a big bite out of the half eaten cookie. It tasted wonderful and still a little warm.Glancing upward as she chewed, she didn’t want to feel any emotions, for a few more minutes. Being a Toa of Psionics had advantages.Then, she noticed something.What he had been looking at from his window, far in the sky, high in the heavens. It glowed brightly, among millions of its brothers, but it was unique. The red star.It felt like it was staring down at her pitiful form, asking her to notice him; glowing with a promise.____The entire story including the title all come to a total of 998 words. This is the first Bionicle story I've written where they are portrayed as humans. It's an entry for the Ambage Flash Fiction Contest, Theme #1: Red Star. The story was published a few days ago in my short story collection... but since all the other entries were posted in the Short Stories Forum I thought maybe I should as well.
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This here's my entry for the first Ambage Fortnightly Flash Fiction contest, the topic for this week being the Red Star. Snowfall rings in at about 990 words, so I cut it kind of close. The story is about a run-down team of Toa stationed in an abandoned section of Ko-Metru during the Toa - Dark Hunter War. Anyways, enjoy.Asiar opened his eyes.What was that noise?It was a rumbling. Vague, steady, low. Like a celestial gate being raised, or a Great Being himself setting foot upon the world, Asiar thought. He’d always had good hearing- and imagination- and he wondered then if anyone else had noticed the turmoil. Or was it his subconscious playing games…? Perhaps the tension from the last battles had simply carried over. Now, there were only seven Toa left in their encampment.The thin Toa of Stone quickly swung his legs off the edge of the bunk he'd been resting on, planting his heavy feet firmly onto the chilled ground. He needed to find Lusath.Striding swiftly outside, Asiar ventured off towards his friend’s tent. Slowing his pace to enjoy the crisp air, Asiar took in a deep breath, raising his eyes to the horizon; all around were crystalline towers, lancing brilliantly into the sky, the glow of knowledge visible easily in darkness. Higher still in the sky Asiar saw a peculiar red haze, a stronger light of the same hue nestled at its center; what this was exactly, he was unsure. Shrugging, he continued on his way. The blue shine of intelligence reflecting off of the ice gently repelled the smooth blackness of the night.Upon reaching the next tent, Asiar lifted the doorflap and peered inside, allowing in a discharged flurry of eager snowfall. Lusath stood within the tent, his close-fit emerald armor reflecting the glow of the overhanging lantern. Asiar saw that Valere was present as well, her cobalt Hau set in a grim expression, along with Intris, whose burnished black armor betrayed his status as a Toa of Magnetism. Surveying the occupants, the Po-Toa walked quickly inside, dropping the flap behind him, so that it rolled off the edge of his shoulder like rain.“Well,” Asiar began after greeting them, “I was taking a bit of a rest, you see, and-““You were awoken by a noise you heard from afar… After exiting the tent you saw the crimson astral anomaly that has remained overhead for the past few hours.” Asiar grunted acknowledgement, nodding his agreement. He’d forgotten how astute Intris was with his Suletu.“We’re not sure what it is,” affirmed Lusath, the Toa of Plantlife continuing where Intris had left off, “it may have been above us for forever, but just recently, the brightness has intensified. This could be symbolic. But superstitions aside, my friends… to business.”Rising from his seat, Lusath gestured at a map laid out on a table in the center of the tent. “The Dark Hunters have sent two regiments of soldiers towards us by this route.“ He pointed out a path, twisted as a Doom Viper’s neck, along a canal, scything azure across the pristine Ga-Metru district depicted by the parchment before them. By this time the other three Toa had gathered around, and observed the stratagems and tactics proposed by Lusath. “Honestly, I propose that we send in for reinforcements; after we lost Megrel, Adray, Farro…” he trailed off.The Dark Hunter insurgents were relentless; so many of the defending Toa had been slain in recent weeks. In wartime like this, losing allies and friends mattered emotionally even more than it had in the past. When your ranks fell apart, Farro had once liked to say, so did your resolve and your sanity. Though it may have seemed an obvious sentiment, this creed became profound to the last seven Toa there; there, the encampment, unfortified, calling the streets of Ko-Metru home, Asiar reflected.The thoughtful Toa was startled back to reality by a faint increasing whine, like air being forcibly shoved aside by a hurried traveler.“What…” Valere noticed it as well. She rose from her seat cautiously. The sound increased drastically, suddenly resolving itself into a hoarse yell, and then there was, in quick succession, a grinding impact, a grey form tearing through canvas, and then a blur of brown motion, a woomph of air being expelled unwillingly, and then snow, quiet and pure snow drifting down into the tent.Through this blur of motion the Toa had stood, dazed, but now they could see what had transpired. A Toa of Ice, by the looks of it, had fallen from some indeterminate height, easily level with the surrounding knowledge towers, crashed through the roof of the tent, and likely would have impacted heavily, if not for Asiar’s split-second instinctual Calix usage, and his natural strength.The three Toa who were still on their feet, Asiar having knelt down next to the fallen Toa, gathered around in shock, looking down at him; steam rose from the body, ashen armor edged with white lay cracked and shattered, and a pale broken Arthron rested upon the face. In great surprise, such as one does upon witnessing a Fikou slay a Muaka, Lusath identified the Toa below him as one he knew. But, Lusath recalled, he had not known him for a long time.“Adray…?” How was this possible? A friend, a brother, who had been dead by the hands of the Hunters for years, was lying before him. The other Toa ringing the body were just as surprised; they had all seen the brave Toa of Ice executed cruelly by a now-nameless Dark Hunter. There was no way in Karzahni that he had returned.Languidly, as though moving any faster would kill him outright for a second time, Adray opened his eyes. The cobalt hue was faint, as though death had achromatized its essence. Just as slowly, Adray began to raise his arm, the others around holding their collective breath in incredulity. And as the revived Toa of Ice pointed vertically, into the night sky, towards the Red Star above, he uttered something that made absolutely no sense to the observers."Long way down...”A brief explanation about the story: Anyways, hope you all liked the story. As this is pretty much my first story, reviews are appreciated. : )
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The Ambage-hosted Fortnightly Flash Fiction ContestWelcome, one and all, to the Ambage-hosted Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest! Be sure to read all of the Contest Rules and Important Information. With the success of the Flash Fiction Marathon, as well as the want of added perks for Ambage members, we bring you the Fortnightly Flash Fiction Contest. These contests are hosted by the Ambage hosts. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Contest Rules and Important Information [*]There will be a new contest every other week. The contests will alternate between Bionicle and COT (a topic will be made in COT when the first COT contest begins October 15th). [*]Each contest will last two weeks. The first week will be the entry period, the second week will be the judging period. [*]Every Bionicle contest will take place in this topic. Instead of creating a million topics, as this will be a recurring contest once a month (with a two-week COT contest in between), I will be updating this post with the current contest and make a post announcing the new contest each time. Remember, these will be once a month, so keep checking back (and participate in the COT ones, too!).[*]Each entry should be between 400-800 words. This is flash fiction. The absolute maximum word count is 1000 words.[*]Each contest will have a new theme. Keep checking back for the new contest's theme. [*]Bionicle entries may be human-Bionicle, if you wish. Just as long as they have some sort of relation to Bionicle. As usual, the story does not have to follow the canon storyline -- you may create your own characters, settings, etc., as long as in some way the story relates to Bionicle.[*]COT entries are not allowed to be Bionicle. That's what the Bionicle themes are for. And vice versa. Save your COT stories for the COT contests.[*]For each theme, contestants will have one week to enter. The next week will comprise of judging. The next two weeks after that will be a COT contest. Then another Bionicle contest and so forth.[*]Entries will be judged. All contests will have at least two judges. Judges will not enter. [*]You must post your stories in a topic. Unlike the Flash Fiction Marathon, you cannot just post your entries in this topic. Please make a topic for your stories. [*]All entries must adhere to BZPower's rules and guidelines. There shouldn't be any problem here.[*]Your story must be new and never before posted on BZP. You can certainly have been working on your entry before this, but it must be posted on BZP only after the start of the contest for it to be eligible.[*]Keep it PG-13-ish appropriate. So no gory descriptions, excessive violence, inappropriate content, et cetera.[*]You cannot edit your entry once the entry period has closed. Editing will be allowed until then. If editing is done after the deadline, your entry will be disqualified. [*]This contest is open to all BZP members. However, there are perks to being an Ambage member. See the Prizes section.[*]There will be prizes for each contest. Read the Prizes section for more.[*]Each contestant is allowed THREE entries for each theme. You may of course write more, but only three flash fiction stories can be entered into the contest. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Current Theme: OTC Contest Any interpretation of the theme is valid, but your entry must be a Bionicle story and it must adhere to the rules posted above. Previous Themes: Theme #1: Red Star Theme #2: Tablet of Transit Theme #3: Broken Mask || Entry Lists || ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------PrizesThe winner of each contest will receive the following: [*]A custom member title for a month, stating "Bionicle/COT Writer of the Month" courtesy of Hahli Husky[*]A spotlight on the front page of BZPower at the end of the month, along with the COT contest winner.[*]For Ambage members only: A review by an Ambage judge.[*]For Ambage members only: A spotlight in the Ambage topic. Feel free to post any questions here.Your hosts,Velox55555TolkienNuile
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Witness Her foot slipped and skid against the concrete as she shifted back against the wall, grinding up dirt and mud against her soles. She sat quietly next to the dumpster, placing her hands over her mouth to stop any instinctive sounds she’d let out. She breathed in through her nose, in and out, over and over again trying to keep calm as she rocked in place.Her eyes were closed shut, tightly, trying to collapse the vision that she had just seen.The rain poured down around her, the clothing she wore was soaked and her pants were dirt ridden. Rain fell on this gray night, the dark clouds illuminated by the city’s lights. Lampposts lit the street beyond her, but the alley covered her in shadow.Slowly dropping her hands to reside limp on the ground, the smell of the garbage beside her was finally recognized by her senses. But she ignored it. It didn’t mean anything to her. She just tried to breathe. She needed air, time, and silence, regardless of how stale and musky the oxygen seemed to be.After the longest minute of her life, she moved her eyes around the corner of the brick building, slowly sliding her sight of the street into view which was hindered by her current position in the alley.With her back pressed to the wall, to make herself as invisible as possible, she took in what was before her.The man was standing above another. The one on the ground was on his back, rain pouring down on his clothes and face, as though he was in tears. His chest was a mixture of blood and mud and water. He was as dead as stone, and his expression was hidden from the girl’s sight.And the well-dressed, fully-alive man, the one drowning his lungs in smoke from his cigarette, held the gun at arm’s length.Her eyes widened, and her breathing shook again. She gasped, but she was sure the rain and thunder covered over whatever small whimper had escaped her mouth. The girl’s hand had reflexively grasped her thigh and she started to squeeze, stopping only when she felt the pain that had reached its way through blue jeans. That pain reminded her that everything was real. The gunshot she had heard wasn’t thunder. The flash that emitted after the trigger was pulled wasn’t lighting.The man retrieved the cigarette from his mouth, pausing to gently exhale all the smoke from his lungs, before he flicked it on to the corpse. In his large trench coat, he turned and his eyes scanned toward the alley way's direction.She immediately pulled back and held her breath.Rain pelted the buildings’ walls and concrete paths, against the dumpster like drums, and she felt like a prisoner. Unable to muster the courage to move, the girl heard every splash, every foot fall as the man drew closer.It seemed like any moment he’d shoot her next. And she would swear she felt the bullet strike her, the trigger sound being clicked. She flinched.But he moved on. He was unaware of her. His silhouette was dark and she could make out nothing about his facial features. With smooth steps he left the street, leaving behind the girl.Unknowingly, he had left behind his witness too.And that witness, would be the first part of a series of clues that would lead to his downfall and arrest for first degree murder. Her life would be forever changed by the event, and though she brought a criminal to chains, to this day she would never choose to relive those moments again. No one could fully know what it meant to stay silent and alone, and leave her place to face reality. To keep watch on that cold body from a distance, stare at that hidden face for the longest time and come to a conclusion: she did have the option to walk away. She didn't really know anything about it, and she didn't have to get involved.The girl hesitated.She couldn’t remember what raced through her mind after that, if anything had. She only knew she was scared. Fear kept her numb.Still… there were other emotions that kept her feeling intensely.It took a little time, but she eventually slumped herself out onto the street to get a second look.____To be honest I'm surprised that the story was this short, but for the Ambage Challenge #2 (my word if it's not obvious, being "Witness") this was the idea I had, and I just didn't feel the need to add anything more. It's not much, but I really enjoyed this story and wanted it as a separate topic instead of just in the SS Collection Topic I have. Hopefully you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! =D
