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theletterunread · 4 years ago

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May Day, May Day, May Day

Last May, the world continued to fall apart, as it's been doing for many years – though at a noticeably accelerated pace. The coronavirus dictated everyone's life and kept me mostly in my apartment in Franklin Village, living a life that was just like my normal life, only moreso. I played video games (but for more hours at a time), watched movies (but more than usual), and read books (but longer books, like Ulysses and the last Karl Ove Knausgaard novel, that were too heavy to have carried around and read while commuting). I did a lot of new writing and got a few rejections for some old writing. Just as I had seven years earlier, I began to wish I had a piano – as my apartment’s previous tenant, singer-songwriter Rebecca Black, did – so I could pass my downtime creating something nice.

The May before that, my writing partner and I submitted writing samples through the WGA Staffing System in the hopes of being hired to write for a sitcom. This job board had been set up by the Writer’s Guild to help writers find work without the assistance of their agents, whom the WGA had instructed its members to fire following a dispute with the Association of Talent Agents. My writing partner and I were skeptical that anybody (least of all us) would be hired through this system – we figured staffing decisions would still be determined by Hollywood’s impenetrable cliquishness – but we knew there was nothing to be lost by giving it a try.

On a Thursday, we submitted applications to three shows. Two of them were cancelled by Saturday – almost as if our applications reminded the producers that they still had dead shows to clear out – and we never heard back from the third.

The May before that, a paralegal left the law firm I work at in Downtown LA because he’d found a job closer to his home in Long Beach. My boss took him out to lunch, after which he returned to the office to say his goodbyes. He thanked me for teaching him some filing skills, but I had trouble accepting the gratitude. Even after six years, I still felt like a pretender in the legal world, skeptical that I knew anything teachable.

Later that afternoon, my boss informed the rest of us that, at lunch, the paralegal had asked him, “Do you wanna smoke some weed?” My boss had declined, noting that it was noon on a Wednesday. Our receptionist said that he had recently made the same offer to her. But an associate attorney and I had never been offered the same opportunity even once in the six months we worked with him.

The May before that, my pianist friend passed through LA and we met for lunch in Westwood. He was the first peer whose hair I noticed was going grey. Mine had been turning for a few years already. Good for both of us.

When I returned home, I played The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, an acclaimed game which shares a lot of its DNA with one predecessor in particular: The Wind Waker. I was happy to see that game’s achievements respected by this new installment in the series because I still felt the exact same protectiveness of and identification with The Wind Waker that I had 14 years earlier, no matter that I was getting old and grey.

The May before that, I received a rejection letter from a literary magazine for a short story that I had submitted for publication 14 months earlier. I also received a rejection from a literary agent for a novel I’d written. Neither one upset me too much: the short story because I’d completely forgotten it was out in the world; the novel because the agent sent me back thoughtful notes, and I was touched that anyone would even take the time to read 75,000 words I’d written. Plus, it was easy to brush off literary set-backs. I had just had made my first business trip to Hollywood, and I was confident I’d soon be working as a sitcom writer.

The May before that, I got a sharp pain in my back anytime I breathed in deeply. The internet said it was probably a strain in one of my intercostal muscles, but couldn’t rule out pneumonia or something scarier. Not wanting a repeat of seven years earlier, when I’d ignored ankle pain and wound up in surgery, I visited a doctor. She diagnosed it as a strained intercostal muscle and wrote me a prescription for anti-inflammatories, which I never picked up.

Three days later, my friends and I were sharing interesting quotations over email (Tuesdays we shared poetry, Wednesdays paintings, and Thursdays quotations). The last contribution was from H.P. Lovecraft: “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”

The May before that, my roommates and I threw a party in our apartment. We invited 47 people and just about 47 people showed up. We had a great time until my landlord called me downstairs to show me that our front gate had been broken by one of our guests while departing. I esteemed my landlord so highly that there was little in life I hated more than disappointing him.

By the next morning, my roommates and I had determined who the culprit was, but we weren’t sure whether to ask him to pay up. While we weighed our options, I went to McCarren Park to attend a picnic hosted by a friend of mine from high school. I didn’t know any of the other guests, but I asked them whether, in my situation, they would reach out to the vandal and ask him to pay. They all said it was a tough call.

Ultimately, my roommates and I paid for the gate ourselves, swallowing the repair charge as the cost of hosting guests. As one of my roommates used to say when shrugging off his post-party hangovers, “You gotta pay the piper.”

The May before that, I wanted to resume playing the piano, so I made arrangements to buy an electric keyboard from a man who lived on the Upper East Side. I reached out to my only friend with a car – the same woman to whom I’d lost my virginity four years before – and asked if she would help me haul the equipment back to Bed-Stuy. She agreed on the condition that I would go with her to Rockaway Beach afterwards. Though the beach is my least favorite of all leisure destinations, I said sure and told her where to meet me.

She showed up to the Upper East Side without a car and without any understanding that I had expected her to bring a car. I had forgotten to ask for that, but it wouldn’t have made a difference: she hadn’t been vehicled for two years. I asked why she thought I would request her help with this chore, if not for her ability to bring a car. She asked why I hadn’t mentioned the car in my request, why I assumed she had one even though I had only seen her drive once, two years earlier, and where my gratitude was for her being willing to come out in 90-degree weather to help with such a tedious chore. Her rhetorical questions were better. We lugged the keyboard, its stand, its pedal, and a bunch of cords back to Brooklyn over two subway transfers and then went to the beach, where the temperature was about 40 degrees lower.

Even though the keyboard’s quality was affirmed by my (imminently greying) pianist friend when he came over for one of our parties, it didn’t scratch my itch the way a real piano would have. I kept it for three years until the speakers stopped working.

The May before that, I began working at a law firm in Midtown. I didn’t know how I landed the position, a phenomenon that’s repeated in every job I’ve got – or not got. Despite my supposed knowledge of film and TV, I’ve been turned down for writing jobs and even to work for Blockbuster. But I was hired to work at a venerable firm while knowing absolutely nothing about the law.

Between that respectable job and the largesse of my landlord, letting me live in Shangri-La for $600 per month, I spent my early-to-mid-twenties building unusual financial stability. I didn’t recognize it, though, and those were the years I was most worried about money. In the years before and since, financial anxiety was nothing; my worries were (are) about writing. And tidily, in that middle period, the creative side of life caused no concern.

The May before that, I graduated from NYU. More than any catastrophe I’ve lived through, that event created an atmosphere of the End of Days. Feelings of wistfulness and anxiety about casting off into the unknown were underscored by Collapse Into Now, the new R.E.M. album I was listening to repeatedly. It is a poignant record (though it wouldn’t be identified as such for another four months, it was secretly R.E.M.’s farewell album) but I was in an emotional state to be moved by any music. I couldn’t even join in the culture-wide mocking of Rebecca Black’s “Friday” that was going on; I found her earnestness unbearably touching.

At the end of the month, I moved into my new place in Bed-Stuy. My roommates and I had flipped for the apartment as soon as we saw it, not just because its competition wasn’t fierce – other prospective apartments had rat poison on the floor or 18-inch-high ceilings – but because it was spacious and cheap and distinctive, and because we liked the landlord. (And it went both ways: he told us that he had declined other possible tenants while waiting for our decision because, “I took a shine to you guys.”) And even though it was still a little strange to be sleeping and eating and showering in a new place, and even though a couple of teenagers had shouted at me while I was moving in – using what federal judges now call “racially charged language” – and even though I still had no idea how to shape a life outside of school, I felt better, because I was in My Home.

The May before that, I was finishing up a semester abroad in Ireland. At times during that spring, I compared myself to the freshman I’d been two and a half years earlier. I had been so naïve, so unworldly when I came to New York in 2007. Now, it was 2010 – a modern year, the dawn of a new decade – and I was 20 years old, living across the Atlantic. I had lived long enough to have a past, to have life behind me. I was a real person.

But if I ever had any specific examples of what made “Junior Year Me” more sophisticated than (or even different from) “Freshman Year Me,” I have completely forgotten them now. The two iterations are collapsed into one character in my mind. And when I see the numbers now, 20 as an age is much closer to the two decades before it than to the years that have come since, and 2010 looks like an absurdly miniscule year.

The May before that, I lost my virginity in a college dorm on 14th Street in Manhattan. It happened in the afternoon, after two failed attempts in prior evenings. The school year was winding down – when my girlfriend called to invite me over, I was packing up my dorm room, and when I arrived, her suitemate was in their common room, packing up her things – so there was no more room for error.

I recall looking at a digital clock, but I don’t recall what time it showed. Nor do I remember the weather, though I remember either being pleased that it was raining, or wishing that it were raining. For a redefining moment, it’s awfully hazy. The fog of war. I had to be reminded many, many years later that, after we finished, I offered a dirty joke that was extremely in and out of character: “I was packing boxes in my dorm, and then I came over here to pack boxes.”

Afterwards, I walked back to my dorm in the West Village. My friends and I had plans to watch a marathon of all of the videos we had filmed that year, and we did. It was several years before I told them where I had been earlier that day.

The May before that, I had an MRI on my ankle, which had been hurting for a year. After I left the hospital, I went to Blockbuster to interview for a summer job and absolutely bombed. I may have admitted that I only planned to keep the job until college resumed in September; I certainly volunteered that I knew nothing about high-traffic film genres like action or horror. When asked what movies I might recommend to customers, I offered artsy snoozers like Ed Wood.

Just as well that I was never offered a job, as the MRI showed that I had, “the ankle of a 70-year-old,” and arthroscopic surgery was scheduled. I spent the next two months first in a cast, then in a boot. I passed the summer making videos and uploading them to YouTube, thinking maybe I’d go viral, as I’d been hoping for two years. The most attention I got was from foot fetishists who liked when I showed my casted leg.

The May before that, my high school was shut down on what was supposed to have been my last real day of senior year. An AP Spanish Literature test and a band concert were scheduled for the day, after which I had no more obligations. But cafeteria workers coming in early in the morning spotted two masked men creeping through a hallway. The workers called the cops, the masked men fled, and the bomb squad was called in. School was closed for the day.

Had there been a bomb, this might be a disaster story known to lots of people of my generation. But there was no bomb, and it’s a story that even I forget most of the time. The general consensus was that the masked men were just students coming in early to set up some departing-senior stunt. They were never identified, though I was confident I knew who they were.

My test and my concert were rescheduled, so I had to keep going to school. The morning of the makeup AP exam, I told one of my classmates that I couldn’t help but wish we had been able to wrap up high school the week before, as anticipated. She cut me off and said, “You can’t even think about that.”

The May before that, YouTube penetrated mass consciousness. The notion of “going viral” was not known to us then, but it was still obvious how well the site could facilitate the spread of good work. I was certain that the videos my friends and I were making could be successful on there. We had so many funny ideas, it was inconceivable that not a single one of them would catch fire. Maybe not immediately, but it couldn’t take forever.

The May before that, Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith premiered. I disliked the previous movie, had forgotten the one before that, and was totally agnostic about the original trilogy, yet I convinced myself to be excited for this one: This is how a person interested in film should feel. My mom and I made plans to go as a treat after an afternoon laboring in the garden, and I invited a friend to come along.

My friend called back later in the day to ask if he could bring another kid from school to the movie. This other kid and I wound up growing closer in the last years of high school, but at the time, I still found him mean and unpredictable. I worried that he might laugh at me for still going to the movies with my mom, or worse, that he would act up in some distasteful way in front of her. My parents weren’t overly sensitive, but I was still haunted by a memory from a birthday party three years before: this kid seriously tasking my dad by telling an awful dirty joke. ("How do you circumcise a redneck?")

I lied to my friend and told him that the trip to the movies had been cancelled. Then I lied to my mom and told her that my friend had decided not to come. At the movie theater, I kept looking over my shoulder, worried that my friend might decide to come anyway (maybe even with the other kid), and I’d be caught. He didn’t, and the next day he asked if I still wanted to see the movie with him, so I watched Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith twice in two days.

The May before that, in Downtown LA (only a mile from the law firm where I’d be working 13 years later), Nintendo had a very successful presentation at the annual Electronic Entertainment Expo. At a time when its public reputation was shaky, Nintendo blew the roof off the Los Angeles Convention Center with a showcase of a new handheld, a new spokesman, and a new Legend of Zelda game. The previous entry, The Wind Waker, had drawn a lot of attention (mostly condemnation gradually giving way to praise) for its colorful, cel-shaded art style. This new game looked more subdued, realistic, and – in the parlance of the times – mature.

While I was excited by the new entry, I felt sad that it appeared to be such a blatant rejection of The Wind Waker, a game I had been defending against adolescent smears since before its release, a game I thought had proven itself to be a masterpiece. Yet here was Nintendo itself surrendering to the backlash and giving the haters exactly what they demanded. That wasn’t how the world was supposed to work, and I felt that I had been hung out to dry. These feelings were still with me more than a decade later when Breath of the Wild came along to close the circle.

The May before that, a blizzard hit Colorado. It was a spring snow, very wet and heavy, and it destroyed the plants that my mom had been adding to the yard since we moved in. She was in the house with my newborn brother, so my dad and I shoveled the walk. It was hard, slushy work, but I greatly preferred it to the lawn jobs and gardening I’d been doing over the preceding year. A private yard was supposedly one of the pleasures of living in a house rather than the apartments and condos we’d previously had, but it wasn’t worth the work that went into it. Visiting a public park or walking around the neighborhood was much more fun than sitting on your own boring lawn.

It wasn’t anything that would be relevant for eight years, and it wasn’t anything I was conscious of for longer than that, but I was developing a sense of what I dreamed would be My Home.

The May before that, my family was newly installed in our first house. Our old condo had been bought by a guy who ran an outdoor cinema over the summers, and he had given us three free passes. I went with two friends to see the second screening of the season, Airplane!

Before the show, one of my friends mentioned that he was going to be working that summer at his dad’s restaurant, and the other said he had been given a spot at his uncle’s factory (it made insulated water bottles). I felt left out, and wished that I could get work too. I wondered if there was a way I could leverage my knowing the man who ran the outdoor cinema into a job.

I remember that longing, yet I don’t remember how, two years later, I came to be working at the outdoor cinema. I have no record of who talked to whom and said what to get me that gig, the first of many positions I would get without knowing how. The job stayed on my resume until I went to work for the law firm in Midtown, but I’m not sure how useful it was. It wasn’t enough to get me in the fucking door at Blockbuster.

The May before that, R.E.M. released its 12th studio album, Reveal. I heard its lead single, “Imitation of Life,” while leaving the Albuquerque airport in a rented car, and was entranced. When we got back to Boulder, I asked my parents to buy a copy of the CD, beginning a fandom that hadn’t abated ten years later when I was listening to Collapse Into Now.

Four months after Reveal was released, the U.S was hit by the September 11th attacks, the first calamity of my life. I’ve never since looked at a copy of Reveal without thinking, “That was from the world before 9/11.” Directionless. And my ability to draw meaning from the eternal return has advanced no further.

#memoir #R.E.M.#zelda #coronavirus #tv writing #law firm #brooklyn #party #loss of virginity #piano #bomb threat #graduation #star wars #injuries #rebecca black

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kivaember · 6 years ago

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So, thinking more on a FFXIV/Monster Hunter AU because this is something that’s actually got me to do more than just staring at the walls doing nothing productive in my spare time, so read under the cut if you wanna see more...!

SETTING: Okay, so let’s set this in World - or rather, post-World! So, I always found it a bit odd that a guild was never set up physically in the forty years they were out on that island, but I supposed they wanted to solve the mystery of the Elder Crossing first before committing resources towards setting one up. SO! The setting will be in the New World, maybe another decade or two after the World’s story, where the Hunting Guild has sent over enough resources and manpower to actually established a proper guild, with a guildmaster and guildmarms and everything, because this would also serve the purpose of actually establishing a permanent residence there that’s solely to help further support the research team out there. Hell, it could even have Wycademy researchers going there, because it seems like those crazy researchers would be frothing at the mouth to have a chance to go to the ‘New World’ and see all these new crazy monsters.

Right, with that out of the way...

AZA LYNEL (WOL) Weapon: Stygian Acedia (Great Sword/Dragon Element) Armour: Stygian Zinogre Armour Skills: Dragon Attack Up (Large), Evasion +2, Peerless, Stam Recov Up (Large), Critical Eye +2, Focus +1, Unscathed Style: Valor Bio: An elite hunter that has established a reputation for successfully pursuing and hunting Elder Dragons and other ‘Deviant’ monsters. He was tasked with accompanying the new Guildmaster for the new Hunting Guild outpost in Asterea and ensuring protection from the resurgence of Elder Dragons’ presence in the New World. He is nicknamed the ‘Strongest Hunter of the Century’ and is notorious for his ongoing feud with the Palico Union, rumoured to have started when he declared battle-trained Chocobos to be better Hunter companions than Palicos.

BLUEBIRD IRIQ Weapon: Fire and Ice (Dual Blades/Fire+Ice Element) Armour: Toka Armour Skills: Repeat Offender, Critical Boost, Elemental Crit, Critical Eye +2 Style: Adept Bio: An elite hunter that has established a reputation for successfully pursuing and hunting Elder Dragons and other ‘Deviant’ monsters. She was tasked with accompaying the new Guildmaster for the new Hunting Guild outpost in Asterea and ensuring protection from the resurgence of Elder Dragons’ present in the New World. She is known to work alongside Aza on most hunts, and tends to spend her spare time wowing other Hunters and anyone else who would listen on tales of her hunts. She thrives off admiration and attention and is considered a good drinking buddy to have amongst most Hunters.

AYMERIC DE BOREL Bio: A Wyverian Guildmaster placed in charge of overseeing the Guild’s formation in Asterea. He is charismatic, terrifyingly skilled in organisation and good at keeping Hunters in line. His arrival caused initial friction between himself and the Field Commander, but he has since integrated well enough with the various fleets to perform his duties admirably. He has a bit of a fanclub at the moment and it is a bit of a running joke amongst the Hunters that the anonymous leader of said fanclub is Aza himself, whose crush on Aymeric is larger than the New World itself. It’s said he used to be a skilled Hunter himself, but the only person who knows anything about that is his close friend Estinien...

ESTINIEN WYRMBLOOD Weapon: Fatalis Fate (Insect Glaive/Dragon Element) Armour: Kushala X Armour Skills: Evade +1, Critical Eye +2, Metallic Protection (Anti-Fire/Drg), Sharp Sword, Poison Duration x2 Style: Adept Bio: The disgruntled Hunter placed in charge of establishing a more organised, working arena. Arenas are vital to ensure Hunter training in a safe environment - as well as allowing researchers to spectate hunts and see a monster’s reactions and combat strategies up close in a controlled location. It’s rumoured that Estinien single-handedly captures the monsters used in the arena quests, and thus far no one has beaten his scores on the Arena leader boards, making him the indisputable Master of the Arena.

ALISAIE LEVEILLEUR Weapon: Guild Quest Book (it has serious bonking powers!) Armour: Lecturer’s Armour (The Guild Receptionist uniform) Bio: A Hunter delegated to Guild Receptionist duty until a serious injury heals. She’s incredibly salty about her ‘demotion’, and frequently expresses her frustration at being confined to the Guild. She clashes often with her twin brother, Alphinaud, who is a researcher sent out alongside the Guildmaster. She is friends with Aza, and is one of the few who is able to wrangle the elite hunter into doing ‘easy quests’ that he would otherwise refuse to do.

That’s all I have the energy for for now... but it’s been fun thinking about it! Hmm, what other characters to do, to think on armour ad weapons and stuff...

#kiva talks #monster hunter and ffxiv crossover au!#i have no regrets #ffxiv #this is like my two fave things mashed into one #aymeric de borel #estinien wyrmblood #Alisaie Leveilleur #Warrior of Light

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recentanimenews · 5 years ago

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The World’s Strongest Rearguard: Labyrinth Country’s Novice Seeker, Vol. 1

By Tôwa and Huuka Kazabana. Released in Japan as “Sekai Saikyou no Kouei: Meikyuukoku no Shinjin Tansakusha” by Kadokawa Books. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jordan Taylor.

I’ve talked before about the times when I read a bad book and people ask me “is it bad in an MST3K way?” and I have to tell them no, it is bad in a bad way. However, we may finally have a winner. The World’s Strongest Rearguard is sort of what happens if you tell an author all the pitfalls they should avoid when writing a Japanese light novel, only he mishears you and uses them as must haves. It is a gloriously over the top power fantasy starring a hero who is so beige he verges on see-through, a harem of adoring women, and his magical job, which we’re assured is super perfect though it’s never quite made clear why he’s the only one who’s ever done this. It should be like dragging yourself across broken glass, but… it’s very readable and guileless. There are tons of “game stat” battles, which I will never ever enjoy, but aside from that, this is some of the finer trash I’ve seen in a light novel.

Arihito Atobe is a corporate wageslave who’s too good at his job, so he’s overworked by his manager – who’s also younger than him. And super hot. On their way to a corporate event, along with various other folks, their bus crashes and they are killed. Reincarnated in a world filled with labyrinths where you need to seek and defeat monsters to be able to have a place to sleep at night, Arihito is forced to choose a class – Rogue, Vakyrie, Shrine Maiden, etc. Getting an explanation from the guild receptionist, he chooses “Rearguard”, a far too general classification that is nevertheless accepted. Now he discovers that while he’s not good at attacking on his own, with the right party, he can provide fantastic buffs, restore vitality, and improve morale. But who would possibly form a party with a man such as himself? Oh, right, everyone.

I’m not even sure where to begin, so let’s start with the other cast. Kyouka, the Valkyrie, is his former boss, who apparently left her tsun back in Japan when she reincarnated and ends up all dere. The author says in the afterword that the webnovel version was too mean, so he toned her way down. I think he overdid it. She’s had a crush on him for ages. Theresia is a lizard woman… not what you (or Arihito) is thinking, it’s almost a costume. She looks like a small Japanese woman put on her robe and lizard hat. She’s a demi-human who was defeated in the dungeons by a lizard monster and so became this, and is also mute. Now she works as a mercenary, and Arihito (presumably) is the first to treat her with kindness. (Actually, this is one of the book’s few clever ideas, and I like how it avoided just making her a slave like other books would.)

Elitia is a Level 8 swordswoman who’s been here a while, but everyone avoids her due to her cursed sword. Suzuna is a sweet and mellow shrine maiden, and Misaki is her friend (they were on the bus together) who is the classic genki girl who lives for the moment and tends to get in trouble because of this. She’s a Gambler. Finally we have Louisa, the guildwoman, who is boggled by the fact that Arihito’s generic “rearguard” job was accepted and that his party keeps defeating stronger and stronger monsters. Every single one of them falls for Arihito almost immediately, and all seem to have issues accepting any sort of compliment, so any time a battle is won there’s a round of “it was all thanks to you”, “no, it was really your win”, etc. They think Arihito is their leader and let him make all the decisions. Oh yes, and he also exudes some sort of magic that, when asleep and behind them, makes them aroused. Nothing explicit happens. Yet.

As you can see, this is absolutely bonkers. It should be terrible beyond belief. It sort of is? Arihito has the personality of lint, and I started to refer to him as Huckleberry Hound due to his blase reaction to everything (he also seems to spend the entire book in his suit and tie), but let’s face it, if he had a personality this would be unreadable. The “reincarnation” aspect of the book reads like a job fair, with everyone keeping all their memories and appearance, they’re just shifted to this new world, which is explicitly designed to be “game world”. The sheer amount of rewards he gets for everything made me giggle. By the end of the book he’s found the secret level that no one else knows of and awakened a sleeping God (who, of course, is a naked robot sort of god) who vows to give her support from afar… though even SHE has severe self-hatred issues and is over the moon when Arihito and his party say they want to work with her. And there are a few plotlines that clearly are being introduced for further books (Elitia, Louisa and Theresia’s backstories, the “other gods”, why Arihito’s job works the way it does), so things are not going to get less extra.

So, again: this isn’t a good book. But, coming at it from the right angle, it’s a fun book. You won’t want to throw it away in disgust. Just read it as if Joel and the Bots were at the bottom of the page making comments, and you can’t go wrong. I can’t wait for Book 2.

By: Sean Gaffney

#Anime #News #Manga Bookshelf

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cddump · 7 years ago

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Blue Shift (Sitting 11. 3025 words)

The walk towards the great wall of ice was a quiet one. Despite the warmth the group felt from Zach's potion, they all felt the same chill running down their spine as they approached the large skull-shaped structure. Zach brought his robe closer to himself uncomfortably. Even from out here he could feel the vileness that lurked within. It was then he heard it. The same laughter that he heard back in the clearing after Lili's death. Zach stopped cold in his tracks as Bryer and Lili paused, worry written on their faces. You're almost here! “Zach, are you okay?” Lili asked. Zach's face had gone pale, and his grip on his robe stiffened. We can almost start playing in earnest! I'm so happy! Zach let out a shaky breath. The same girl's voice echoed in his mind, but neither Bryer nor Lili made any indication that they heard it. The world suddenly felt numb; Bryer was saying something, but Zach couldn't make it out. His voice was muffled out and out of reach. Don't keep me waiting, Zachy! Zach pressed his hand against his forehead. The voice overpowered any other noise that reached Zach--like a rushing river, it drowned out everything else. “Zach!” He looked up. Zach had, at some point, fallen to one knee and was visibly shaking.

“I'm...I'm okay. I'm fine.” “I don't think so,” Bryer answered, “you're staying out here. Wait for us in the village, we'll get the gem and we'll use it there.” It seemed like a good idea. Something was waiting for him inside the Keep. Maybe he should just let the siblings take care of the situation. With their extreme speed and power they should be able to easily handle whatever obstacle they faced. But where would that leave him? There would be no glory for him if he simply waited at the door and he hadn't come all this way to be too afraid to face the challenge. “I'm fine, Bryer. I was just...overtaken by the dark energy the Keep emits. It caught me off guard but now that I'm used to it, I can press on.” Bryer raised an eyebrow before looking towards his sister, who only shrugged in response. “You two can't feel it, can you? The oppressive dark forces lurking in the Keep? It's like a wave of water trying to force me down.” Zach wasn't lying; the contrasting energies from the forest village and the Keep was astounding. While one offered warmth and comfort, the other held nothing but frigid isolation. “Don't let me slow us down. The sooner we get there, the better.” The skull-shaped entranced loomed over the trio. Now that they were closer, Zach could see the material that composed the building was completely out of the ordinary. Powerful mana seeped out of the grey bricks used to construct it, infused with wards and charms to prevent magical assaults. Would Zach even be allowed entry? His constant residence inside the Magical Library had rubbed its scent into him, almost as if it marked him. If the wards placed denied entry to his kind, he would be booted out as soon as stepped foot. “There's a ladder.” Lili pointed at the base of the skull, just above the chin, where a rope ladder dangled and swayed against the frosty wind. The thought of it snapping and forcing him to fall weighed heavily in his mind, but if it could hold Bryer and Lili with their armor, then surely it would hold him too.

Isn't that what you thought about the walkways back in the village, Zachy? And that broke so easily for you! Almost as if someone gave it a hand! The voice giggled away in the back of his mind, and Zach forced himself to ignore it. Instead, he pulled out another glass bottle from his bag. This one was pink in color and he quickly downed it. “What was that one for?” Bryer asked. “Some magical potion that grants resistance to forms of magic?” “No... it was stomach medicine. I'm feeling woozy.” Bryer frowned, obviously expecting a more wondrous answer. “I made it myself, if it helps any.” It didn't. Lili spent the time grabbing the rope ladder and tugging on it sharply a few times. “It seems stable enough.” “It has some endurance charms on it,” Zach told her, “basically it won't rot naturally.” “You can tell from just a glance?” “Most magic users can detect magic easily. It's even simpler when the magic used is powerful or plentiful, like in this place. It stinks of different kinds of magic, even from out here.” “That's super interesting and all, but I don't really care,” Lili interjected. “But this rope isn't going to send us plummeting to our deaths once we get close to the entrance, right?” “As long as someone doesn't snap the rope, we'll be fine.” “Good enough for me. Let's go.” The group entered the mouth of the skull, but were surprised to find the area devoid of any movement. They had all expected to come face to face with some kind of monster or defense, but instead were presented with nothing. The room they had just stepped into was made of a darker cut of materials than the exterior had implied, and the room was dim as a result. The room was also long, and almost like a hallway, decorated with a red plush carpet in the center. The walls were lined with iron torches that burned a brilliant blue, reminding Zach of home and they were accompanied by large oil paintings depicting stout figures. There were swordsman, bowmen, magic casters, and powerful warriors in each one. Zach scanned the room, but the only other door presented was ahead of the three adventurers, passed the red carpet. “These blue fires mean there's magic at play, right?” Lili asked. “Yes,” Zach answered, “though there's the chance it could only be representing the wards and charms in place to defend from magical invaders. We'd be lucky if that were the case.” “Magical invaders? Like you?” “...Not exactly. I thought that might be the case too, but remember how this was original a training ground for the strongest warriors? Well, they were the ones that placed these particular wards, so theoretically, no evil should be able to enter.” “But the place got taken over by evil monsters, right?” Bryer asked. “That's what the stories say.” “But they still managed to force their way in. That either means the evil in here is too powerful to care about those wards, or whoever set the wards up—or whoever maintained them—did so expecting to betray the other warriors. Either way, the fact that the wards are still up as they were in the past is not something we should take lightly.“ “You mages are complicated,” Lili sighed. Bryer only laughed in response. “You think that was bad? Alice and Samantha are always going on and on about magic. It never ends.” “Who and who?” “They're... I-I'll introduce you to them properly when this is all over.” Zach walked towards the wall opposite of the entrance and reached into his bag. He undid the cork on yet another glass bottle and splashed the yellow liquid on the wall in a slashing motion before pressing his hand against it. To Bryer and Lili, the liquid seemed to be sucked into his palm as Zach closed his eyes. “That's gross,” Lili observed. “The next room is larger than this one. It's got two staircases leading to a higher level, but I don't know where the gem is being kept.” “Gross, but handy. Let's--” “There's more. I can feel some kind of presence inside room. It's big, but I don't think it'd be a match for you two. Thought I'd let you know though.” Gross, handy, AND dandy. Ready for a fight, Bry-Bry?” Zach raised an eyebrow at Lili's nickname. “Bry-Bry?” He repeated. “Everyone seems to love calling me that. Let's go. Zach, stay behind us. The fact that the front entrance is left completely opens means there's more here than meets the eye. Stay on your toes.” The metal door swung with a loud creek as Bryer pushed it open. He carefully peered inside, though Lili shoved him aside as she strutted into the new area. Zach timidly poked his head in after Bryer walked in. “Would you be careful?” Bryer hissed. “What for? Zach said the guy in here's a pipsqueak.” “You shouldn't just barge in head first though! You've always been like this!” “And you've always been too hesitant!” Zach ignored the two squabbling and examined the room. Just as his potion predicted, the large area held two staircases leading upwards to a higher alcove. It reminded him a bit of the receptionist area of the Sword Guild, though instead of nice and comforting carpets and decorations, there was nothing but the same dark brickwork and blue torch fires. A few paintings hung on the walls as well, but the majority of them were slashed and destroyed. Some looked as if they had been scratched by a beast of some kind while others held more sword-like patterns to them. Next to one of them was a bare skeleton, sitting upright against a wall. Zach couldn't help but let out a loud gasp as he fell backwards, backpedaling as soon as he landed. “Gods. That scared the hell out of me,” he admitted as Bryer and Lili reached him. “No need to worry about him,” Lili laughed, “he's long dead. Won't be bothering us for...aw shit.” The skeleton's skull began to rattle unnaturally as Lili spoke. Zach could feel the necromantic energies surrounding the room and in the span of time that it took Bryer and Lili to unsheathe their swords, the skeleton stood on its two legs. “Is that it?” Lili laughed, “It really is a pipsqueak!” Zach scanned the room, feeling the different shapes the mana around him took. It felt as if he were looking at sand skirting in the wind, taking different shapes. “No,” he told them, “there's something else.” “You really need to learn to shut up,” Bryer warned Lili. The skeleton took a step forward, but instantly began cracking away. A large gash appeared across its skull as it crumbled away to dust as the rest of its body followed suit. Zach's heart pounded heavily against his chest as the scene played itself in front of him. He could see the dark threads of magic pour itself into the pile of bone dust, though he couldn't make out what was going to happen. “See?!” Lili cried, “Easy! The bones were so old that they couldn't hold their shape, even with magic!” Watch this, Zachy! It's going to get really interesting! Are you doing this? Nope! I don't have any power here. Not yet, anyway! Who are you? I don't think you have the time to ask questions right now! Zach let out a shaky breath as he waited for the magic to take its shape. Slowly, the dust began to funnel itself out from the top of the pile as the group watched on in dread. Though the debris was constantly moving, it began to take shape. Large enough to nearly reach the ceiling of the room, a pale humanoid figure from the abdomen up presented itself from the pile of bones. Unlike the skeleton that came before it, the large demonic beast had a much more human composure, with visible arms, joints, and face, though the eye sockets were eerily devoid of any color, and a mighty darkness seemed to loom within. “You really need to learn to shut up!” Bryer yelled once more. Zach couldn't help but stare at the monster in morbid curiosity. Though the figure was obviously solid, the bone debris and dust it used as a shell was constantly moving and shifting throughout its body. It was like watching sand falling in various different directions to create a ten foot colossus. Without warning, it reared its right fist back in a wind up before swinging towards the group. Bryer and Lili easily jumped to opposite sides to avoid the blow, but Zach was too slow. Thankfully he was only just out of reach of the attack and was only pushed back as the force of the fist produced a blast wave, knocking him backwards. Better act quicker than that, Zachy! Zach quickly brought himself to his feet as Bryer slashed the colossus' outstretched arm, severing it from the body while Lili jumped from her position to reach the monster's face. Just as she was about to thrust her sword, the demonic beast let loose and ear-ripping roar that blasted Lili backwards and out of Zach's field of vision. All he heard was the loud striking noise of her crashing into a wall above him. “Lili!” Zach cried. Better worry about yourself! The girl's voice giggled maliciously in Zach's mind as the monster's arm quick grew back from Bryer's attack, and it wasted no time in breaking apart a large chunk of the railing from one of the staircases and throwing it at the duo. Time seemed to crawl for Zach as the large and pointed beam hurtled towards him. If only there were a way STOP something in mid-air. Maybe like one of my toys? Zach didn't have time to think about it and did the first thing that came to mind. Remembering the fight between Bryer and Lili, Zach held out both arms towards the flying obstacle. “Stop!” He commanded, letting the magic flow out of him and towards the railing. In an instant, the object's trajectory completely halted itself and it stood suspended in midair before it could reach him. Yes! Yes, just like that! What else can you do?! Zach could feel the momentum the railing held. The way it pushed back, wanting to be released from its magical binds and complete its path. Sweat ran down his face as he focused on that momentum. If it wanted to keep flying, then that was exactly what Zach would have it do. Pulling one arm closer to himself, Zach began circling his two arms counter clockwise. Each time they passed one another, he could feel the momentum shift due to his influence. It took two seconds before he was confident that he had completely reversed its trajectory. Zach pushed both hands forward with a sharp cry as he released his spell. Finally being able to fly, the wooden railing soared directly towards the head of the colossus. The railing hit its mark and struck itself into the monster's mouth, clogging it. Not wasting anytime, Bryer leaped into the air and did what his sister couldn't. He slashed once at the monster's neck and accelerated passed it, cutting the head clean off. Zach sighed in relief, but that was short lived as the evaporated head quickly grew back, just as the arm had done earlier. “Crap!” he cried as he darted behind a pillar. “What the hell do we do now?!” “Everything's got a weakness,” Lili yelled from somewhere above, “we just need to find it!” A weakness. Somewhere where the colossus was vulnerable. Zach peered around his pillar. Both Bryer and Lili were swinging at the monster, deflecting its punches and dodging any piece of the room it could throw at them. It was obvious they could keep fighting for a while, but it didn't seem as if they were doing any real damage to it, as it quickly recovered from any wounds. But HOW did it recover? The spinning sand-like debris that composed its body had to have a chink in the armor somewhere. Zach focused on a slash Lili dealt to the monster's stomach. It left a visible wound behind, but it was quickly covered by the same debris as before. Once more he watched another attack heal itself before crying out. “I got it!” He yelled at the two as he once more reached into his bag of holding, “I got it, I got it! I need a distraction!” Without waiting for a reply, Zach rushed out of his hiding place and circled around the colossus, hoping to reach a blind spot. Bryer and Lili forced the fight away from Zach as they drew the monster's attention to the other side of the room, where it turned its body to face them, though remained in the same place. He was right! As quickly as he dared, Zach dashed towards the pile of skeletal dust and uncorked a bottle of pure, transparent water before pouring it on the pile. A searing, steamy sound filled the room as a thick cloud of mist formed from every droplet that made contact. The colossus howled in pain before looking down at Zach. As soon as it saw him, it rushed to stop him, but Zach was ready and splashed the holy water at his attacker, which reeled back, hissing in pain. Not wanting to waste any more time, Zach threw the rest of the bottle the bone pile where it smashed open. The pile of bone dust quickly burst into a white holy flame as the colossus shrieked in torment. The large beast slowly began to melt away as Bryer and Lili watched on in awe. Its body dissolved into the ground in grotesque chunks that fell apart with a splat before disappearing in the same white flame. After the two arms fell completely, the head began to melt away. “May Saint Dai grant you the ability to rest in peace!” Zach yelled as the flame enveloped the colossus completely, burning away what was left of the unholy being that had leeched itself onto a once-human skeleton until nothing was left. Not even the pile of dust remained. Instead, the glass shards of Zach's bottle was the only proof of what had occurred.. An isolated silence filled the large room as Zach fell to his knees. The sound he made as he caught himself echoed throughout the area, and his deep labored breaths filled the void of battle.

#right write #writing #my writing #fantasy #tumblr's text editor sucks lol #or maybe it was my word document #either way italics sucked here #haven't written in a hot minute #time to jump back in #blue shift

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