I guess now's as good a time as any to lose my Thunderginity.
In with Bakku-shan.
Can I post my submission now or do I need to wait for signups to close?
e: And sorry in advance for the lovely prose.
|# ¿ Mar 2, 2016 23:33|
|# ¿ Jan 29, 2022 13:51|
Baby (Bakku-shan: A beautiful girl... as long as she's being viewed from behind)
He walked past her every night. Well, not right past her- he always stuck to the other side of the street. He was mortified that he might have to speak to her. But every time, she always waved or winked at him from the corner.
He'd seen her for the first time, after work, his first day on the job. It was that smoky night his co-workers told him they'd meet up for drinks at the Solid Gold bar. It was in a seedy neighborhood, but that didn’t stand out to him. He didn't think anything of it until he got through the door and realized it wasn't his scene, so to speak. He hurried out into the noisy neon night blushing, and almost ran into her. He caught just a whiff of her sensual perfume amidst the cacophony of back alley vomit and piss smells that constantly assaulted his nose. He was so embarrassed and overwhelmed that he'd just mumbled a tepid apology into the grimy gutter and kept walking.
She was different each night- diverse silky clothes, tasteful jewelry, and groups of people with her- but also somehow also perpetually the same. She was always relaxed, hand on silky hip casually. She was always confident, bright smile charming everyone she glanced at. And she was always breathtaking, obsidian hair framing a perfect face. Aside from the sheer physical beauty, which was almost tangible even from across the street, she had an air about her that spoke of class and comfort. He felt as if they were made for each other. She was opposite him- calm to his nervousness, confidence to his meekness, classiness to his inelegance- but she also reminded him of the life he'd left behind. Just looking at her reminded him of the haut monde he'd once been accustomed to.
Today will be the day, he thought. The boss blustered. Today will be the day. The clerk chattered. Today will be the day. The customers complained. Today will be the day I speak with her!
He staggered out of work, somehow not as exhausted by the slog as normal. The humid air clung to him, so heavy his breathing felt labored as it sucked in the sickly-sweet scents of the smoke, sex, and drugs wafting past. For once, it didn't seem such an offense to his palate. He was electrified and alive! He was going to do it.
And then like a sucker punch to his gut the excitement was all vacuumed out of him. There she was. It was tunnel vision; everything faded but her. She looked transcendent, as always, too perfect to be real. He stayed on her side of the road, just this once. He walked towards her, and she noticed him- smiled, and beckoned! As he approached, the familiar twinge of her perfume struck him again.
"W-would you like to grab a drink?" The words tumbled forth in a jumble. He said it too quietly and from too far away, there's no way she could have heard him!
But her voice purred, as sultry as he'd imagined, "Baby, we can do anything you want if you've got the cash..." His throat constricted. The crushing weight of the cloying alley air suddenly struck him as if it were a physical blow. His mind hung like a skipping record for the briefest moment before all the pieces finally fell into place. He suddenly saw her. The pearls, fake; the perfume, cloying and overbearing; the way she carried herself, not stately, but salacious.
He saw his hand reach out suddenly, fist full of precious bills it had somehow fished from his wallet. She took the money, took his arm, took him away from the street corner.
|# ¿ Mar 5, 2016 22:40|
I'm a glutton for punishment. In.
Thanks kindly for the crit QPQ. Might ask you for a little more in IRC tomorrow.
|# ¿ Mar 8, 2016 05:15|
Word Count: 919
Sunrise. Sunset. Sunrise. Sunset. Ren watched them zoom past, almost that quickly. In orbit around Earth at five miles a second, a day or night was barely there before it was gone. By his estimation, it was about seventeen minutes.
He looked up just in time to catch one more sunset. As the angry red giant slipped below the horizon it cast off a single ray of light, searing his vision like an archangel’s sword. For someone seeing it for the first time, it might have been stunning. But to Ren, it was just another reminder that this wasn’t the home he remembered. He still had fond recollections of green, and not the sickly blue-green of the algae blooms that sustained most of the scattered humans now. He remembered blue, the last of the oceans, ever retreating from the incessant heat.
His chain of thought was interrupted abruptly by the oxygen alarm. It beeped slowly, only once every dozen seconds. It would start beeping faster as his ship lost more oxygen, until it became a steady pulse. At that point it wouldn’t matter- there would just be vacuum. He idly dialed down the volume until he could barely hear it. The alarms reminded him of the day he’d left. They told him he was one of the lucky ones. His parents had enough money to buy one ticket, and they’d chosen him. He’d sat crammed into a stuffy metal rocket with hundreds of other terrified people as alarms blared to warn of their departure. Ren had felt totally alone that day, even as he felt claustrophobic among so many people. But it didn’t compare with how alone he felt today, his ship orbiting upside down above the scorched planet.
The quiet beeping niggled at his mind. He knew he should do something about it, but in this moment of soft tranquility everything faded away. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to deal with the busted panel that was keeping him from leaving and draining his all-important oxygen. He just wanted to float freely and remember. Caught up in the moment, he unclipped his harness- there was no reason to be strapped in, after all. The earth fell completely into shadow, as close to a midnight as it came up here, and Ren closed his eyes and let himself float, arms outstretched, transfixed by nothingness. The alarm was getting more urgent now, but he didn’t mind. His troubles slipped away, as weightless as his body, and Ren felt content for the first time in a very long time. He was ready, ready to sleep, ready to dream of things he’d never see again, ready to forget.
CRACK. Ren flailed awkwardly around, utterly startled by the noise. His watch had smacked against the glass canopy in front of him. His father’s watch. His jerking motion had set him spinning, but he allowed himself one final moment of remembrance. Father had given the watch to him on the last day. There had been a look in his eyes, and in Mom’s. There was fright and sadness, as he’d expected, but there was something else as well: hope. He could never forget that look, no matter how hard he tried.
Ren grabbed one of the handholds, stopped his spinning, and launched himself along the corridor to the back of the ship in a quick, practised motion. The alarm was blaring rapidly now. He slammed into the rear wall of the ship, but he swiftly adjusted his momentum to push himself down a side passage. In a move that only a space kid could pull off, he slithered into his EVA suit in a matter of seconds. In just a few more he’d flung himself out of the airlock, untethered.
Oxygen was a pressing concern, but not the pressing concern. If the sun came up while he was outside he’d be cooked almost immediately. It was all his suit could do to keep him cool enough to manage the radiant heat from the earth. The sun’s angry light already glimmered around the outer atmosphere. Ren’s suit absorbed the scattered ambient light and kicked the air conditioning into overdrive, but it wouldn’t be enough for long. He quickly fired his magnetic grappler at the tail end of the ship and slapped a patch onto the small hole. Chances are he’d been hit by a bit of rock or satellite, but what it was didn’t really concern him.
Hastily he turned back towards the airlock. It was too late, though, the sun was about to rise. He could feel the heat already. The aircon rattled and coughed, barely managing lukewarm air. Sickly sweat poured down him, making his suit sticky and slimy. His skin prickled uncomfortably. He tried to press the large button to open the airlock, but his arm cramped uncontrollably. He pulled himself to it and smashed his helmet into it. It opened slowly, too slowly, but he shoved himself in and managed to crash into the next button. Dots swam before his eyes and he lost track of which way he was facing. He drained the radiation-absorbing liquid in his suit onto the floor of the airlock and swam clumsily into the ship. Sloughing off his suit, he hardly noticed the melted solar coating.
As he clambered drunkenly back into the cockpit, he fired the engines, angling the ship so he didn’t have to see the red, angry sun rise until he was far, far away.
|# ¿ Mar 15, 2016 00:50|
|# ¿ Mar 15, 2016 03:21|
|# ¿ Jan 29, 2022 13:51|
Your knight is chaste
Word Count: 1006
Lancelot dismounted his horse and wiped the mud, blood, and sweat from his face with a gauntleted hand. He’d never thought to see Camelot again, but here he was standing before the heavy gate. Grabbing his lance, he turned and launched it at the gate. Jousting lances weren’t meant for throwing, but his well-honed muscles were more than capable and he wanted to send a message.
“ARTHURRRRRR!” The lance slammed into the gate with an echoing thud. Guards on the wall began milling around frantically. Unsure if they could make out his crest, he grabbed his shield from where it was lashed to the side of his steed and pushed the tip into the ground before him so it would stand in front of him.
A small commotion reached his ears from behind the gate before they burst open. Lancelot immediately recognized Sir Gawain’s golden pentacle emblazoned on his chest and raised a hand in greeting, “Sir Gawain! Good to see you my frie-”
“Lancelot! What are you doing here!” Gawain interrupted, jogging clumsily in his armor to Lancelot’s side. “You can’t be here! The King is coming to greet you, and the Queen… I was told… they said…”
“No matter what you’ve been told, Sir.” Lancelot grinned. “Worry not, Sir Gawain. I’ve seen the Grail. I’ve seen the Grail and I have been redeemed.” Gawain’s jaw dropped, but before he had time to respond a group walked through the gate towards them.
Arthur, as royal as ever, led them. A hard look troubled his normally calm face. A small group of knights and squires followed him, hands uneasily resting on their hilts. And by his side Guinevere strode, the only one amongst them with something other than worry on their face. Could it be excitement? Happiness, even? Lancelot took one unsure step forward before he was stopped by Arthur’s voice.
“Lancelot.” He didn’t sound angry, just firm. “Why have you come back here, Sir Lancelot? You were banished. By what right have you returned?”
“My King, I have been vindicated.” Arthur’s brow creased in confusion. Lancelot had no ill intent towards his king, but still he waited and savored the moment ever so briefly. “I’ve seen the Grail.” Several of the knights gasped, one of the squires scoffed in disbelief, Arthur’s eyes slowly widened in wonder, and Guinevere… Guinevere smiled at him. “Look into my heart, my King. You can see that it’s true, and that my rage has passed.”
“But Sir Lancelot… what of the reason you were banished? What have you to say in defense of those actions?”
“My liege, it is as I told you then. I was innocent. If the Lord has seen fit to honor me with the sight of the Grail, surely you cannot doubt me now? I have always been chaste.” Arthur sat silent for a brief moment, but he had no choice but to believe his old friend.
His quarters. He’d never thought to miss the sparse rooms while he was gone, but now that he was back he realized how much Camelot felt like home to him. He let his armor fall off him piece by piece, more careless than he usually was. With every part that clattered to the stone, he felt the burdens of his long journey fall away from his mind to match. He shrugged off the last of his armor, his belt, his tunic. He was exonerated at long last.
He lay with his eyes closed for a few moments before he heard something moving in his room. Instinctively, he reached for his dagger and looked up. It wasn’t an enemy that stood before him, though; it was Guinevere.
“Mi-milady,” Lancelot stuttered, scrambling for a tunic with which to cover his bare chest. “Forgive me, I didn’t hear you come in. I’m not clothed.” Her wide, wild eyes smiled at him.
“Lancelot,” she paused a moment, “I’ve missed you so much!” The loose pile of clothes he’d been fumbling through slipped through his numb fingers.
“Gwen,” he repeated breathlessly, “what are you doing here? Was it not you who had me banished in the first place? How can you now stand here before me like this?”
She smiled her vixen smile. “That’s all in the past now, Lancelot. All that matters is that we’re here now.” He felt suddenly dizzy, like when he looked out over tall battlements.
“Mi-Gwen. Gwen, you have to go, you can’t be here. I can’t do this.” He reached out and took her hand, meaning to stand and pull her towards the door, but she took it entirely differently. As their hands met her slender fingers clenched his and she dropped to her knees in front of him. He couldn’t help but notice that her gown was quite sheer and his eyes lingered on her perfect bosom. Guinevere caught his eye on her and with a slight shrug sent her silky dress cascading down to her waist. Lancelot was paralyzed, sweat beading up all over him suddenly.
As Guinevere leaned in towards him, he cast his mind about for what to do and settled on a quick prayer. This was wrong and he couldn’t do it, but there she was in front of him, his whole world since the day he’d lay eyes on her. How could he deny himself this?
In an instant, he knew what he must do, though. He took her embrace, felt her breasts on his chest and her lips on his, wrapped her up completely, and sunk his dagger into her back. He’d been deemed worthy by the Grail. She gasped silently, her sweat breath playing across his face. He couldn’t break his vows now. As the blood streamed from his life’s only love, he arranged her gown back upon her shoulders and set her gently down. He walked across the room, sat down in the far corner, and plunged the still bloody knife into his own breast.
|# ¿ Mar 21, 2016 05:47|