The Fight Is Harder Each Year.

A little Urban Fantasy

I wish I could say this was born out of a long, well thought out concept of a wizard/shaman character trying to scrape by in the big city as a detective on a supernatural investigative team whilst dealing with the myriad of fantasy creatures sticking their nose into his personal life and causing all kinds of chaos around his town. But in reality, I just wanted a chance for a guy to nail a God in the junk. So, Enjoy.

~~~~~~

The night air was heavy with the musk of summer heat. Standing across the desolate park was Mr. Simmons, or so he went by. I had been tracing his movements for some time, trying to catch him slip up. I had my suspicions after watching him stand behind little Timmy at the festival a few weeks ago. An unremarkable man, Mr. Simmons looked like any other office worker. His dull suit and unoffensive presence made him blend well into the scenery of the urban setting. A little too well.

I had managed to get him out to the meeting when I mailed him some photos I took of him at the festival. I had to shop in some special details, marking in the note that I had a special lens attached. I figured he would just get antsy and cover his tracks, but here he is. Staring at me as if to set me on fire. For all I knew, he could do it.

I guess Gods can get nervous too.

Mr. Simmons reached into his jacket. I tensed my hand around the revolver at my side. A bullet to the gut probably wouldn’t do much to an omnipotent being, but its presence allowed me the bravado I needed to stare down celestial types. He produced an envelope and held it out in front of him, quirking an expectant eyebrow.  I followed suit. Without losing my grip on the pistol, a steady hand fished a roll of film from my pocket. I also held it up for the long-distance scrutiny of my business partner.

Now this is where the dance gets tricky. We show off the goods, hand it over to a confidant and they make the trade. If either side showed sign of unfavorable response, the deal is blown and we go our separate ways, usually the head goes one way and the body goes another. Seeing as my conversation piece was powered by gunpowder and his by the visceral might of eternity, I hedged my bets on taking a dive. As such, I play by as many rules to get by as I can. Stay cool, stay professional, stay alive. Blackmailing Gods is tricky business to say the least.

I hand the cartridge to my confidant beside me, a little sprite I have lovingly deemed “Fetch”. The Fey can be chaotic at times, but with the right incentive they can be a boon for simple tasks. Such as, “give to the big scary guy and nab the goods. Then comes energy drinks.”

The diminutive fellow hefts the cartridge in his arms and sets his wings in motion. Across the park, Mr. Simmons does the same. His choice of companion is best described as a pile of compost. Various bits of plant detritus, leaves and twigs, jutting out at odd angles and mashed together with a pair of flowers at the top as a form of eyes I guess. It managed to balance the envelope on its head and shamble its way over to me.

I had been milling the thought for a while, ‘why would a land god use a blob of mulch as a companion and not some kind of cute woodland creature?’ I narrowed my eyes at the undulating creature. As it approached, I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I glanced over to Fetch, he was almost to Simmons. I decided to make a small diversion. Tilting my head back, I let out a loud sneeze. Everyone on the scene froze for a moment as I reached for a handkerchief. I wiped my nose and glanced over at Fetch, who had been looking at me over his shoulder. He whipped around, letting the canister fall from his grip. It clattered on the ground.

“Ah, come on Fetch!” I called to him, “Be professional, like we practiced.”

Yelling at my companion gave me an opening to steal a glance at the vegetative familiar. The envelope had toppled from its head when I bellowed my sneeze. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the mess snatch the envelope with a bony hand protruding from within the pile of leaves. I made a sound, something between a hiccup and a shriek. Whatever it was, it was obvious enough to alert the land god to my epiphany. Er, correction. That was no land god. I was attempting to blackmail a being of decay, of rot and death. Standing across from me wearing a rather irritated expression was a Plague God.

Remember that part about “separate ways”? Well, things were going to go very “separate” for me in short order unless quick thinking could save my bacon. When in doubt, fall back on the classics.

“AAAAAAHHHH!” I shouted and ran like a maniac. This clued Fetch in to do his most favorite trick. A mystical light-speed hokey-pokey that filled the area with enough razzle and dazzle to out glitz Vegas. The diversion must have gotten to the very angry being of unlife as I managed to make the few steps necessary to pounce on the envelope. A well placed back-hand toppled the camouflaged corpse into a rotten pile of bones. I sprang to my feet as the glitter faded from the air, the little guy can only boogie so long. I let loose a string of colorful language. Or I tried, I got to kiss the dirt before finishing “Shi-“ and had a powerful and ancient being digging its all-powerful boot into my back.

“Did you really think you could best me, Mortal?” It said with a voice like searing acid. I felt a deep chill fill my body. A cold that threatened to stop my heart before I could blink. But, it is in our most dour moments, that glory can be found and indomitable wit can be harnessed. I dug my numb hand into my pocket and work what I assumed were my fingers around my revolver.

“Did—you think, I wouldn’t…gun!” I pulled the trigger and felt a hot sting in my foot.

Some ideas are better than others. The deity howled in laughter, stepping off me and drawing a long, gnarly looking scimitar. Raising it high over his head and looming over me.

“Such are the machinations of a fool.”

I flipped to my back, “Me? A fool?” I pulled my bloody foot in front of me. “Maybe, but I ain’t the one staring down a Gate, am I?” With my one-liner properly dispatched, I gave Simmons my best crippled nut-shot.

The look of surprise on his face was priceless. Horror, disgust, rage and maybe a tinge of acceptance, though that might just be the hubris talking. The portal I had unlocked via bullet to the foot swallowed the powerful being in a wondrous display of magic and light. There were magical words floating in the air, vortex-y looking structures crafted from aether and a really sci-fi “vwoosh”-ing sound. After the fireworks display, the dust settled and the park returned to a quiet and serene place. I even had a moment to enjoy the adrenaline before the shrill sound of police sirens permeated the night. My signal to get moving.

I whistled for Fetch and I hobbled my way back to the car. My faithful driver waiting patiently, smoking a thick cigar. As I approached, he pulled the door open for me and I threw myself inside, Fetch staying close by. We pulled away from the park and disappeared into the night, literally. It’s handy to know a few gnome mechanics.

“Just as planned?” Piped up my driver, the cigar clenched between his teeth.

I winced as the adrenaline gave way to the throbbing pain aching my whole body. I managed to pretty up the expression with a rugged and manly smirk. I reached down and tugged the envelope free from the hole in my foot.

“All in a day’s work.”

He gave a sideways glance and shuddered, “You Gates are so weird.”

We continued in silence. It gave me time to wonder. A plague god had no place waltzing into the festival. How the heck did he sneak in? I looked over the envelope and resolved to bring it up with Marshal back at the office. But that could wait.

“Danny,” I said, “Take me to 42nd and Vice. I got a date with a gal.”

“Can I ride shotgun?”

I shook my head, “Got a Plague God riding shotgun right now, but if you are into that kind of thing…”

He pounded the palm of his hand on the steering wheel. “Dammit, I never get to—“ He paused and let the cigar drop from his mouth. “Plague God!?”

I snatched the cigar before it landed on the seats and popped it back into his mouth. “Never fret, my friend.” I smiled, “I got a plan.”

He took a drag on the tobacco and let out a thick sigh, “I need to find a new line of work.”

“This is your daily, friendly reminder to use commas instead of periods during the dialogue of your story,” she said with a smile.

“All that talk about the power of friendship,” the antagonist murmured, as they circled the protagonist. “And it never even occurred to you that perhaps your enemies might have friends too, did it? How arrogant a thing, you are…”

Writing without a story

I’ve got a couple of asks in my inbox about my prompt fills on here as well as how long I spend on them exactly. So here’s a bit of my process!

1) Find a prompt you like.

There are a lot of great prompt blogs out there! @writing-prompt-s, @gingerly-writing, @witterprompts, @yetmoreprompts and @corvidprompts are some of my favorites to go for inspiration.

For this post, I’ll be using this one (X) from writing-prompt-s! Don’t think too hard about it–that’ll just keep you from writing! Pick one you’d be interested in learning more about and open up a new document!

Prompt:  You are a lonely young child. Your parents are always working and you don’t have any friends. To cope, you decide to start talking to your stuffed animal. After you ask it a question one day, it responds

2) Choose your genre.

I tend to stick to urban fantasy or high fantasy, but maybe that’s not what you’re interested in writing! If you like writing out suspense, maybe thriller is more your speed or mystery! The world is your oyster.

3) Write the first line.

I favor my 10th grade english teacher’s advice here and try to write “one true sentence!” Technically it’s Hemingway’s advice, but he can go ahead and stay the frick out of this post!

Here’s my thought process: Young children need physical/verbal/emotional affection. Without the parents around, their reliance on stuffed animals makes sense. They probably hug the animal a lot and, from my experience, well loved stuffed animals aren’t quite as soft as they once were.

First line: Mr. Kili’s mane feels more like the fraying mop in the kitchen than yarn the night that Janet decides he’s the only friend she’ll ever need.

Keep reading

How to Tell Your Friend That You Need a Break From Supporting Them

When I worked at a mental health crisis centre, I couldn’t believe how many people came to us, not because of their own problems, but because they were so lost in a friend’s pain that they couldn’t take it anymore. I saw a lot of people who were so worn down from helping someone else that they couldn’t sleep, eat, socialize or focus at work or school. They were consumed with guilt every time they put down their phones, went to sleep, or dared to enjoy themselves and have a good time. All because they had no idea how to set boundaries.  Helping your friends through a tough situation is a wonderful and noble thing to do, but it only works if you’re mentally in a place to do so. If you’re dealing with issues or mental illness of your own, you’re not always capable of being someone else’s shoulder to cry on 24/7. And that’s okay. Sometimes, you have to put yourself first. You can’t help someone else if you’re a mess yourself. You can’t save a drowning person with a sinking ship.  Telling a friend that you’re overwhelmed and you need a break is one of the hardest things you’ll ever have to do. Honesty is the best policy - don’t go radio silent on them, or avoid answering their messages. Be honest about how you’re feeling, and what you need from them. If you’re stuck on what to say and how to start the conversation, here are a few suggestions. Feel free to copy them exactly: It’s really hard for me to admit this, but I’ve been feeling like I’m on the verge of a breakdown lately. I love you and I care about you, but I need to take some time to take care of myself for a while.  I’m really concerned about you, but I honestly don’t know how to deal with this and I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing. I really think that you should talk to a professional about this.  This is hard for me to admit, but I have a lot going on in my life right now, and it’s getting to be too much for me. Would it be okay if we talked about lighter stuff for the next little while?

You deserve more support than I can give you. I think you need to tell a close family member or professional about what’s going on. 

It seems like every time we talk about this, things are worse for you. I’m worried that my advice isn’t helping you at all, and I think you should talk to someone more qualified than me. 

I’m really worried for your safety, and it breaks my heart, but I can’t keep you safe all by myself. Would it be okay if we told someone else what was going on? 

I’m sorry, but I can’t answer my text messages 24 hours per day. I really want to make sure that you always have someone to turn to if I’m not available. Are there some other people you would trust with this? I can help you tell them, if you’re not comfortable doing it by yourself.  I hope these suggestions are helpful - best of luck to all of you, and make sure to put your own mental health first when you have to. 

More of my wonderous work! Gaze in awe as Baron Von Blight sets about his joyous work. #inktober2016 #doodles

King Carnage Awakens

A fever dream given form, this story is going to be a wild ramble. A monstrous villain gets a day job, but how long will it last? Enjoy. ~~~

Cassidy Quake typed methodically on his specially designed keyboard for those with massive reptilian fingers. He leaned back in his specially designed chair for long, thick, armored tails. He adjusted his specially designed headset for long curling horns. He was muttering the series of numbers and serial codes for shipping rates. A small alert popped up on his screen. "Break Time!"

He let a faint smile pass his face. "Finally." He pushed the keyboard aside, took off his headset, and awkwardly stood up from his chair. He grabbed the "Employee of the Month" mug that he stole from a coworker and headed to the break room. Inside, his buddy Malk was idly sitting at the table, cleaning his feathery antenna with his upper pair of arms, his lower pair clutched his coffee cup. He greeted Cassidy as he came in.

"Hey buddy, how'd the date go?" Malk asked politely.

"Didn't go the way I thought it would," Cassidy replied. He walked over to the coffee machine against the back wall.

"Oh?" Malk said, slowly stirring his coffee, "Do tell."

"Well for starters," Cassidy said, tapping out his order on the machine, "She wasn't a natural blond." The machine buzzed to life and coughed out the hot brew. "And also, she was an agent of GUILT trying to hire me for a heist."

Malk nodded and sipped his coffee, "That must have been hard to deal with. I know how much you like blonds."

Cassidy joined him at the table and blew the steam off his coffee, "Yeah, how could she lie like that?"

"So," Malk asked leaning forward, "Did you take the job?"

"Of course not, you dingus." Cassidy said. "I swore off working for GUILT, buncha sad sacks." He sipped his coffee and let out a refreshed sigh.

"So you could say," Malk said in his typical sing-songy voice that he uses for bad jokes, "They couldn't GUILT you into it, eh?"

Cassidy set down his coffee carefully before leveling a glare at Malk, "Some days," He began, letting the heat in his voice radiate and shimmer in front of him, "I think you actually want me to swat you, bugman."

Malk laughed, "Some days," He said, curling his mandible into something like a smirk, "I want you to. Would get me out of this dull-ass job for a few weeks."

"If you hate it so much, why are you still here?" Cassidy said. He wasn't angry. He was genuinely curious. He wasn't even looking at Malk when he asked. His head was down, staring at his cup of black coffee. Perhaps he was really just asking himself.

"I need those creds, man." Malk said, folding his lower pair of arms. He leaned forward onto the elbows of his upper arms, "But once I pay off my debt, I'm outta here." He nodded to himself, and spoke a little more softly, "I'm outta here."

They shared an uncomfortable silence. Then the breakroom phone rang out. They looked at each other.

"Hey, I'm still on break," Cassidy said. "You're just slacking off."

Malk buzzed a grumble before flapping his wings to bring himself to his feet and swaggering over to the phone. He picked up the phone and said in a cheesy, radio announcer voice, "You've reached the Dastard Industries break room, what can I do for you?"

A low-tone grumble and roar was bellowing on the other end of the line. Malk nodded along, adding non-committal chirps as reply.

"Right now?" Malk said at last. He turned to glance at Cassidy, who responded by tapping his coffee cup and then pointing at his watch. Malk sighed, "Yeah, I'll be right there." Cassidy smiled and sipped his coffee. Malk continued with, "Uh-huh,", "Yeah", and finally, "Right away, sir" before hanging up.

He walked back to the table and downed the rest of his coffee. "Looks like paradise still eludes me, old friend." He turned and left the break room.

Cassidy looked up at the clock above the door, still some time left to enjoy his break. He could contemplate his mistakes in life, a favored pastime. Or maybe he could create another plot theory for his favorite TV shows. It would give him something to talk to Laura about. If she ever calls back. Even if she was a GUILT agent, he still felt a kind of connection.

The phone on the wall rang again. Cassidy let his shoulders slump forward. He let out a begrudging moan as he rocked to his feet and walked over to the phone.

"Hello, this is the break room." He said in a tired voice.

"Hello, King Carnage." Said a heavy, rumbling voice. "We meet again."

Cassidy glanced around him, "Meet?"

But the break room was empty. Just the chairs, table and the too-small fridge they all had to share. It was a pain really. They should get a bigger fridge if they expect people to bring their lunches. Not everyone can go to the food carts every day. Management needs to get their act together.

"Oh wait," The voice said, "One second."

A humming sound came from the receiver and grew louder until it became a howl. Cassidy dropped the phone and stepped away from the wall until he was up against the table. A flash of electricity arced from the phone and struck the ground. The strike crackled on the floor to form the runes of a summoning gate. From which a blast of heat and sound errupted forth and opened a door to the abyss. A dark figure stepped through, clad in abyssal black armor and a cape made of nightmares. The horns on their helmet nearly touched the ceiling. Once they had fully emerged, the gate snapped shut behind them with a wisp of black smoke.

"Hello King Carnage, we meet again." They said again, the rumble in their voice made the room shake.

Cassidy pushed himself off the table and clapped, "Well hot damn, that was some trick, King Darkness."

The tall, foreboding figure tipped their head, "Why thank you. I spare no expense for you, King Carnage. But enough formalities," They swept their arm back, causing the cape to flourish behind them, "I have a job for you."

Cassidy sighed and shook his head, "Katie, I can't."

"Oh come on!" She said and pulled her helmet off, long black hair fell around the large eye that took up most of their face. "You haven't even heard what it is yet." Her gravelly voice had turned squeaky and pleading.

He gestured around him, "I am at work, Katie."

She pointed an accusing finger, "No," She smiled, "You are on break."

"For, like, 7 more minutes," He fired back, "I can't go on a job with you."

"That's more than enough time." She said. She snapped her fingers and a swirl of dark magic swirled into her open hand, is showed two figures. "We hop through the Forever Gate, grab the jewel, then hop back," The figures in her hand mimed her plan. He clapped her hands together, "Be finished before you know it."

"It's never that simple and you know it." He paused and his eyes went wide, "Jewel? You mean-"

"The Jewel of Eternity, yes. I finally figured out how to open the door in the sacred chamber." She said, excitement dripped from her voice in a giddy tone.

"We could bypass all the sacred barriers." He said, he tapped the spikes on his chin. "That means it would just be the Final Test and with us at full strength."

She clapped her hands, "Exactly, we could take it on easily."

The Jewel of Eternity, it's power could rival the Tome of Legends and the Kings of Calamity would finally have a chance to defeat the Legion of the Brave. After all these years, things could be like they used to. He could go back. He could be a villain again. He could feel alive again. He looked up at the clock, 5 minutes left. Plenty of time.

"Let's do it." He said.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Dangling on a sturdy carabineer hook was a red stone. He clutched it in his fist and the room filled with a bright red light. When it faded, he stood clad in his own regal regalia, crimson red with accents of gold. King Carnage had awakened.

"Perfect," She fit her helmet back on her head and picked up the phone, tapping in a series of numbers and symbols. As it rang, she beckoned him closer. He stepped right up to her side, leaning in to try and hear the sound of the ringing.

The receiver clicked, "Hello? Is that you, Elder Folley"

King Darkness raised her hand and summoned a mighty storm of dark magic and then slammed it into the phone. The crackles of the summoning gate scoured the ground around them. King Carnage pulled his tail close to make sure he fit within the circle. In a flash of lightning, they vanished.

The trip was fast and disorienting, but there they stood, in the heart of the Temple of Eternity, a stone's throw away from their prize. They were staring down at a quivering figure wrapped in novice robes. His yellow crystal communicator fell from his hands and clattered on the floor.

"Greetings, foolish boy," King Darkness said, her voice a roaring bellow, "Your knavery has delivered the Kings of Discord to their ultimate goal. You should be rewarded. King Carnage, if you please."

He stepped out from the summoning circle and spun around, the tip of his armored tail caught the novice under the chin and sent him spinning to the ground.

"Haha, magnificent. I see you have kept up your training." She said, giving a small applause.

"Yeah, the company has a free gym membership." He said, rolling his tail around to stretch it out.

"Great," She said, entirely uninterested, now on to our task." She turned with a flourish of her cape.

The Sacred Chamber was a grand affair of marble and sky blue crystals, grecco style, very Olympian to follow the pantheon theming of their order. At the center stood a massive pedestal. Upon the pedestal was a glorious deep blue jewel resting on a pillow.

"After all this time," She said, walking up to the jewel. He walked up the opposite side of the pedestal, looking at the jewel. "King Carnage, if you please."

He nodded and reached out to take the jewel. Then paused.

"Wait, what about the Final Trial?" He said.

"Oh, well," She said, her gruff voice staggering, "We probably bypassed it," she stroked the chin of her helmet, "Because we didn't activate the other trials first." She nodded to herself. "That's probably it."

His hand was poised over the jewel, something about this felt too easy.

"King Carnage," She said, "I know you want to enjoy the drama of this moment, but I am certain the Elders will catch on soon and make this a much more unpleasant experience." She motioned for him to hurry up.

"Right, sorry," He reached down and picked up the jewel. There was no alarm. No siren. No sudden blast of stone guardians that burst from the walls. Just the gentle hum that came from the magical crystals. He waited a beat before realizing he was holding his breath. He let it out and said, "Got it."

"Excellent, now give it here." She held out her hand.

He laughed, "If you wanted it so bad, why didn't you…" His voice trailed off, he glanced at the jewel in his hand, "Why didn't you take it?" There was a subtle heat on his voice as glaring eyes rose up to meet her.

"I figured you wanted the final glory, seeing as how you looked so miserable in that lame office job. Now that you've had your fun, hand it to me so I can get us out of here." She said, her voice was losing its roughness and becoming frantic. "You have a job to get back to, remember?"

He drew his hand closer to him, "No, you're lying. Why did you want me to take the jewel? Is this the Final Test?"

"Now is not the time for this, Cassidy." The way she said his name sounded like it was a foul word. "Give me the Jewel of Eternity," That wasn't the sound of a request.

He looked at the jewel in his hand. Then he felt an itch in his legs. He looked down to see they were being consumed by fast growing crystals.

"Dammit!" He shouted, "What the hell is happening?" He looked up to Katie, "What is going on?"

She reached over the pedestal, "Give me the jewel and I can reverse the trap! Quickly."

He reared back his hand out of her reach, "You knew! You knew this would happen."

"What are you talking about?" She said, "This is the first time we've made it this far."

"Yeah, the first time WE'VE made it this far," He emphasized the word, "But not the first time YOU have made it."

He kept his hand away from her while the crystal growth made it up to his hips. He turned and noticed the novice stirring from the ground. The figure turned to face them and he caught a glimpse under the hood of the robe. He made eye contact with the bug eyes for a moment before they quickly turned away to hide.

"Malk?" He said, begrudgingly, "You got him on this?"

"You were never a team player, Cassidy." She said, her tone was harsh and cold, "You were always so self-centered. The rogue element. The lone wolf. We lost so many battles because of your arrogance. King Disaster and King Zealot both left because of you. Now, do something useful for once and give me the jewel!"

Her words bit deep. He felt an ice-cold javalin pierce his heart. Figuratively, though the crystals had climbed up his torso all the same. His old friends and collagues. His old life. He had wanted to go back to that, to those days of living care-free. But he had been hurting them. He grit his teeth.

"You think I don't know that? That I chase everyone away? I'm a big scary monster, what do you want from me?" He was shouting, the crystals were at his throat. He felt them coil down his arms. He felt his memories flood around him. He thought of Katie and Cody and Kaz. He thought of them coming together again in victory. He felt a warm tear in his eye. He let out a hot sigh. She was right, maybe he could do something useful for once. With all he strength, he cracked the crystals around his arm and held out the jewel for King Darkness.

"Here, Katie. I hope this makes you happy."

She didn't hesitate to reach for the jewel. "Oh, it--" And she froze.

Everything froze and the room was coated in a soft blue light, like what you think of when you see pictures of things in the ocean.

"Cassidy Quake," A gentle voice rang in his mind and made him look up. Floating above the pedestal was a humanoid being shaped from what looked like glass. It had translucent hair that flowed as if submerged in water. It drifted down and stood on top of Katie's frozen, outstretched hand. "You have been chosen."

He looked up at the being of glass, awe struck and without words. He finally managed to choke out, "Chosen? For what?"

It stepped off Katie's hand and floated down next to him. It placed what could be described as a hand on his chest, the locking crystals melted away to form armor that shifted to match her own form, clear and crystalline with a humming feeling of power. "A guardian of the Jewel of Eternity."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "But," He said at last, "You have to be pure of heart to do that, right? Sorry but that ain't me."

It tilted its head to the side, much like a confused puppy, as if trying to find words for its reply. It finally spoke again, "Pure of heart doesn't mean you never made a mistake, it means you are willing to change. And you, Cassidy Quake," It said, patting his head, "Have that quality."

He felt a wave of emotion surge in him, something warm. He wasn't sure if these were the warm fuzzies that heroes talk about, but it was something nice, whatever it was.

"Do you accept your position?" It said to him.

He looked into where he approximated its eyes to be and said, "Full time work?"

Its expression remained unreadable, "It's more of an internship program. But it will provide valuable experience for your guardian resume and as soon as a position opens up with the Elders, you will be chosen for full-time."

He nodded along, "Yeah," He grunted and placed the jewel into the hand of the transparent being. "I already have a job, thanks."

The being let out a hissing sound similar to a mournful sigh. "Unfortunate, you would have been a great guardian."

It raised its hand and there came another flash of light. When the dazzle dissipated, he found himself in the break room again. Malk was huddled in the corner in the novice robes. King Darkness was standing across from him.

"--will." She said at last. There was a palpable moment where everyone readjusted to being ejected from the sacred chamber. King Darkness looked at King Carnage. They shared an intense and painful moment. He gave a brief huff through this nose and then glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Welp," He said, breaking the silence, "Time to get back to work." He held up his keychain and his armor warped back in the stone.

"That's it?" Katie said, stalking up to him, point a finger in his face, "You ruin our chance at reclaiming our glory and you just head back like it was nothing?"

"You know, you're right," He said, snarling, "I did forget something." He spun around, his tail smacking King Darkness upside the head hard enough to send her helmet across the room. He turned to Malk. "Looks like you get that time off you were looking forward to."

Malk made frantic but brief protests before Cassidy's tail found his face for the second time. Two friends, laid out cold on the break room floor. A job well done.

He adjusted his shirt, and headed back to his desk.

Cassidy Quake sat down in his specially designed chair, put on his specially designed headset, and pulled out his specially designed keyboard. He realized he still had his keys in his hands. He glanced at the stone on the carabineer, a beautiful clear crystal stone. He recalled the rush of donning his armor and plunging into the sacred chamber. He smiled to himself and pulled out his personal phone, typing in a number.

"Hello? Laura? Change of plans, when can we meet?"

This is a neutral post

Feel free to stop here and rest before journeying to the posts below.

ummmmmmmmm