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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



in
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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Antivehicular posted:

You get a parking violation and a maggot on your sleeve


No Parking 1140 words

There were about a hundred cars, and they were all illegally parked.

Normally, Caroline wouldn’t care. Like OK, sure, it was technically her job to ticket all these fools, but usually she couldn’t be bothered, because who cares, right? But it had not been a pleasant morning. Some fine upstanding citizen who she was sworn to serve and protect had called at her to “show us your tits luv, I love a woman in a uniform,” and precedent had been set that she was not allowed to pull such people over and impound their car.

So instead, some people were going to get tickets, because she had no other immediate means to vent her frustration.

She was writing up ticket number seventeen when Mandy passed by on a ride on lawnmower. “Morning Officer,” said Mandy. “I see the festival goers have decided to create their own car parks.”

Caroline nodded. “I had a frustrating morning, and misery loves company.”

“That so?”

“Yes. Now you know that I’m all for correct procedures and all that,” and here Mandy nodded, “but once a week or so, I should have a free pass to pull someone over and confiscate their license if they’re being a jerk. You know, go through their car without a warrant and dump all their possessions on the road. I don’t think I’m asking too much here.”

“Seems reasonable,” said Mandy. “I had some douche stop at the lights and ask if I wanted something else between my legs, yet if I dumped my lawn clippings into his gas tank, I’d be in the wrong.”

Caroline didn’t reply. She was staring at the next car. “This is the car!”

“Yes!” said Mandy. “How did you know?”

“What? No, this was the car from the prick I encountered this morning.”

“Wow,” said Mandy. “This here is fate.”

“I just wish I could do more than just write a ticket.”

“Well,” said Mandy, “what if it turned out he had other unpaid tickets or something? Can you run the plates or something? That’s a thing, right? You know you want to.”

Caroline sighed. “I really do. All right, here’s hoping he’s lost his license or something.” She pressed a button on her walkie talkie. “Hey, Precinct 49, Officer Caroline here. Can you run a plate for me please?”

“Hi Caroline! Sure, read me the plate number.” Caroline read it out, and there was a pause at the other end. “Hmmm, that one’s been reported stolen. Do you need backup?”

“I might do, yeah,” said Caroline. “I’m outside the festival grounds. I’ll try to locate the driver.”

“Wow,” said Mandy. “This is better than we could have hoped.”

“Now I have to get over to the festival grounds and somehow find him.”

“Need a lift?”

Caroline glanced at the lawnmower. “Not sure that’s the fastest option.”

“Oh,” said Mandy, “you might be surprised. This thing has had some work done.”

“All right,” said Caroline, “I choose not to think about the possible legal implications of a faster than usual lawnmower.” She got on behind Mandy and held her around the waist. “Let’s go.”

They zipped over to the festival grounds, and Mandy pulled over onto a big patch of lawn and turned off the engine. “Honestly,” said Caroline, “It almost feels like we should be wearing helmets if we’re going that fast.”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Mandy. “Let’s find our car thief.”

“All right,” said Caroline, “let me know if you see him.”

They looked around for thirty minutes, and then Mandy nudged her and pointed towards the stands in front of the nearby oval. “So, what now?” asked Mandy.

“I want to check something,” said Caroline. She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the man, as well as the people immediately around him, then pulled out her walkie talkie again. “Hey, Precinct 49, Officer Caroline here again. Look, I’m just gonna send you through some photos, I want you to run the first guy through the system. I believe this is our car thief, wanna see if he’s been doing anything else he shouldn’t. Not certain about the people around him, but you never know, right?”

While they waited for the results, they shuffled closer to the suspect, while also watching the wood chopping that was taking place on the oval, because who doesn’t like watching the wood chopping?

Caroline’s walkie talkie buzzed. “Hey Caroline, sending some details through to your phone now. You mentioned you’re at the festival grounds, whereabouts in there is the suspect?”

“In the stands, watching the wood chopping,” said Caroline.

“All right,” said the voice. “Looks like your backup’s arrived, I’ll get them into position and show them who they’re looking for. I’ll let you know when they’re ready to go.”

Caroline’s phone buzzed, and she looked at it and whistled.

“Can I see?” asked Mandy.

“Probably shouldn’t,” said Caroline, “strictly speaking. But let’s just say, given this info, he’s probably going to either run, or resist arrest, or both, and I can’t wait.”

“Excellent,” said Mandy. “Let’s go.”

“Ah,” said Caroline. “Sorry, you’ll have to just watch this one.”

Mandy sighed. “Fair enough. At least I get front row seats to the richly deserved police brutality. Please promise you’ll make it as uncomfortable as you can possibly justify.”

“Why, Mandy,” said Caroline, “I will of course only use the amount of force that is required of me due to the situation.”

The walkie talkie buzzed at her again. “Hey Caroline. Your backup is in place. Give the word.”

“Moving in now,” said Caroline.

Mandy sat and watched while Caroline went over to him. The man looked up, and there was a spark of recognition and a smile on his face. His smile didn’t last long, and he jumped up and ran towards the oval. Caroline turned and followed him at speed. The man jumped over the barrier, hit the ground and got up quickly, but the pause was enough. Caroline jumped, pushed off the top of the barrier, and hit the man shoulder first. Mandy ran over to the barrier. Caroline was kneeling on the man’s back, pushing his face into the ground, and pulling his hands behind his back. Officers spilled onto the oval from various other parts of the stands, but it didn’t seem they would be necessary.

They sat in the festival’s overpriced café together, once the thief had been taken away. “That was pretty awesome,” said Mandy.

“Yeah,” said Caroline.

“I was really hoping for a bit more of a beating,” said Mandy, “if I’m honest.”

“Well,” said Caroline, “it’s not much, but I did manage to take him down next to where a dog had left some droppings.”

“Oh?”

“Right where his face was.”

“You were pushing down on his head pretty hard.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Flash me

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Barnaby Profane posted:

Your protagonist is a gecko.

Through the Sound and In and Out the Valley 1033 words

Gabrielle the Gecko had big plans for the day, which mostly involved hanging out and soaking up some sun.

“Hey,” said Gloria. “Whatcha doing?”

“Oh, you know,” said Gabrielle. “Just getting warm.”

“Yeah, OK,” said Gloria, “but have you considered maybe moving because, like, look over there?”

Gabrielle looked at the over there in question. “Hmmm,” she said. “Yeah OK.” She scampered off the road, and several humans started running past. She looked and there was nothing but running humans as far as her bulbous eyes could see. “Well that’s inconvenient, they’re running on the warmest bit.”

“Yeah,” said Gloria. “I believe there’s a marathon on.”

“This simply will not do,” said Gabrielle. “I had plans for this day and that bit of road.”

“Yeah, dunno what to tell you, Gabby.”

“Never mind,” said Gabrielle. “I’m formulating a plan.”

“Please don’t.”

“No no, this is a good one.”

“I want no part of whatever this is.”

“No trust me, this’ll be good. First step: reroute traffic.”

“OK, how do you plan to do this?”

“I know a guy. Wait here, this is going down.”

So, Gabrielle went off to contact the guy she knew via the Gecko Network, or Geckwork, and Gloria sat in a slightly less sunny area than what the road was and hoped that the plan wasn’t too disastrous. A few minutes later, a car was sighted in amongst the runners.

“Told you,” said Gabrielle, who had just returned. “I know a guy.”

“I don’t really understand your plans, Gabby.”

“Yeah, look, I’m kinda improvising here, all right?”

“Oh no.”

“Just going with the flow. Feeling the vibe. Hey, there’s some traffic lights, that’s fun.”

“I don’t know if ‘fun’ is how I’d describe…”

“Nah check this out, it’ll be good. There’s a Gecko Access Point.” *(Or GAP)

So, Gabrielle and Gloria crawled into the GAP, and stickyfooted themselves all the way to the top.

“OK, so check out these wires,” said Gabrielle. “Let’s see what happens if we bite them.”

“You get electrocuted and die.”

“OK, granted, good point, maybe that’s not the play here.”

“Maybe the play here is we just get our sun on the top of the traffic light?”

“That’s your problem, always thinking small. No, look, they’re not even pushed in that hard, right?”

“Um.”

“Step aside, important electrical work is about to happen here.”

“Why did I even come in here with you?”

“Because you know that my plans are the best and that witnessing them is also the best.” Gloria didn’t say anything, but she stepped aside and let Gabrielle work her magic. “All right then. This wire comes out of there, this one gets swapped over to there, this one… hmmm, I reckon I can fit it over there… all right, I don’t know what that’s done, but I bet it’s spectacular.”

“I bet it’s catastrophic.”

“Pfft,” said Gabrielle. “Always such a Gloomy Gertrude. When have my plans ever gone bad?”

“Well, there was the strudel incident.”

“Granted, not my best moment.”

“And the thing with the fireflies.”

Yeah, all right, but that was one time.”

“And that time with the traffic cones.”

“You know, traffic cones might’ve been a good idea for this occasion. I’ll keep that as a backup, but it won’t be necessary because this time’s going to be different from all those times you listed, I can feel it in my waters!”

The two of them stickyfooted their way down and back out of the traffic light. The traffic light was flashing a hypnotic pattern, and all of the runners had stopped and were swaying, mesmerized, their eyes fixed on the light.

“Well,” said Gloria, “sorry I ever doubted.”

“Apology accepted,” said Gabrielle.

“I do wonder what the point of the traffic redirection was, though.”

“You know what, that was just a red herring.”

“Uh huh.”

“To throw you off my trail.”

“Right.”

“Yeah, all right, you got me, I was just trying things. But hey, this one worked.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Come on, let’s catch some sun.”

They’d only been enjoying the sun for about five minutes when the sky darkened. “Hmmmph,” said Gloria, “after all that?”

They looked up to see a large spaceship descend to directly above the hypnotized marathoners. The spaceship mirrored the pattern of the traffic light, then shone a pale blue light down upon the people. The people started to slowly rise towards the spaceship.

“You know what,” said Gloria, “I think I’m gonna just head off now.”

“Come on,” said Gabrielle, “I gotta see what happens here.”

“Pretty sure they get abducted.”

“Well all right, that does seem like the obvious result.”

“You just got a bunch of humans abducted.”

“Man. When you put it like that…”

“Right?”

“That is awesome! I’m the greatest gecko ever!”

“You know, that wasn’t really the direction I was going with this.”

The humans stopped levitating and started spinning, around and around and around.

“This is getting a bit weird,” said Gloria.

“Do you want me to go back in there and put the wires back?”

“Yes please.”

So, Gabrielle crawled back into the GAP and stickyfooted back up the inside of the traffic light, while Gloria stayed outside and watched the amazing spinning marathoners. As Gloria watched, the traffic light flicked off and all the humans awoke from their hypnotic state and started screaming. The spaceship’s blue light flicked off, and all the spinning humans were flung outwards as if by a centrifugal force, like what had just been acting upon them.

“Whoops,” said Gabrielle when she got back out and saw all the splattered humans.

“Yeah,” said Gloria.

“Well, I guess we have the sun all to ourselves now.”

“There’s definitely going to be some humans poking around here soon to figure out what the deal is with all these corpses.”

“You know what,” said Gabrielle, “you’re probably right. Come to think of it, there’s a better place for sun over this way.”

So the two geckos scampered away and found a place to catch some sun with fewer dead bodies in it, and the city later replaced the traffic light with a roundabout.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



I will write a thing

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



I, Nazi Death Robot 717 words

Klaus der Todesbot was having an existential quandary. His existence seemed to be one big quandary, really. The war had ended without him being unleashed on an unsuspecting world for the glory of the fatherland or whatever, and it was a serious bummer.

“Hi Klaus,” said Adolf.

Not that Adolf. He’d been dead six years. But Adolf was a popular name. Or, had been. Its popularity was on the wane, somewhat. This Adolf had come into possession of Klaus after Hans, his creator, had been executed for crimes against humanity or whatever.

“Greeting, master,” said Klaus. “Do you need me to destroy your enemies?”

“I don’t think so,” said Adolf. “I’m only 8, I don’t really have too many enemies.”

“I don’t understand,” said Klaus. “Why have you taken me out of storage if not to wreak havoc upon your foes?”

“I want to go for a walk,” said Adolf. “Mother said I was not to go alone.”

Klaus considered this. Perhaps there would be foes on the walk. “Affirmative,” said Klaus. “I will eliminate any threats.”

“Excellent,” said Adolf. “We’re going to the pond to feed the ducks.”

“Noted,” said Klaus. “Ducks designated as allies. Do not target unless they become hostile.”

So, the two of them walked to the duck pond. Adolf had a stick that he was tapping on trees and such as he walked past, and Klaus was very alertly scanning the surrounds for hostiles. Occasionally he vaporised a tree branch when it came too close to whacking Adolf in the face.

They got to the pond, and Adolf started breaking off bits of bread from a loaf he’d had in his coat pocket and throwing them to the ducks. Klaus scanned the horizon then the pond. There could be a Russian submarine in the pond. At the moment, there were only ducks in his immediate field of view. Ducks on the pond, ducks on the footpath, a formation of ducks flying over some trees.

There was a loud noise, and one duck fell out of formation into the trees below. “Hostiles!” said Klaus.

“They’re just hunters,” said Adolf, but Klaus was already on the move. His sensors picked up some smoke from just over there.

“Stealth mode activated,” announced Klaus. He silently moved from tree to tree, looking for the enemy.

The enemy was in a clearing. The enemy was a robot. And also a small human, but Klaus computed that the small human had not produced the smoke or terminated Adolf’s duck ally.

“Stealth mode deactivated. Surrender or be destroyed.” Klaus pointed all his death rays at the enemy robot.

“Neither,” said the robot.

Klaus considered this. His programming wasn’t sure how to respond to such a blatant disregard for what was clearly a binary choice. At that moment, Adolf arrived.

“Klaus,” he said, “leave them alone.” To the small human, he said, “terribly sorry about this. Klaus seems to have accidentally designated you as hostiles.”

“Stay behind me, master,” said Klaus. “This robot is dangerous.”

“Who, Lotte?” said the small human. “She’s a sweetheart, she’d never harm anyone.”

“She just harmed a duck,” said Klaus.

“Hardly the same thing,” said the small human, and held out a hand to Adolf. “I’m Hilda.”

“Adolf,” said Adolf, and shook her hand.

“Named after…?” she asked.

“It’s a family name.”

“Master,” said Klaus, “I must counsel caution. They assassinated our ally.”

“Ally?” asked Hilda.

“Oh,” said Adolf, “I was feeding the ducks.”

“Ah,” said Hilda. “I asked Lotte to hunt one of the ducks for dinner, so she designated it as a target.”

“Oh, good idea!” said Adolf.

Klaus was somewhat confused. “Are the ducks not allies anymore?”

“No, Klaus,” said Adolf. “Now they’re dinner.”

“War is confusing,” said Klaus. “Updating database.”

“Wanna come over for dinner?” asked Hilda. “I could have Lotte hunt another one.”

“Thanks,” said Adolf, “that’d be great.”

~

The two Nazi death robots followed their respective master and mistress back to Hilda’s home, vaporizing any leaves or branches that attempted to touch the children. Adolf and Hilda had duck for dinner, and Klaus and Lotte scanned the horizon for Russians or whatever.

There weren’t any Russians, but there was a squirrel who looked a bit shifty so Klaus destroyed it just to be sure.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Assign me one please.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



QuoProQuid posted:

7. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?

The Heart Wants to Eat Your Face 1203 words

Simone was having a good day, but she was pretty sure it was about to turn bad. She just had a feeling.

It had been a good day because no one had tried to kill her yet, but it was probably going to get worse on account of the lizard people. Not content with infiltrating all levels of world government and plunging the world into a dystopian nightmare, they were now intent on catching her and eating her face.

She just had a feeling.

On the TV, 2nd President of Earth Selena Gomez was talking about the need to unite and… I mean who cares really what she was talking about, because it was all lies. Simone wasn’t sure when Madame President had become one of Them, or if she’d always been cold blooded. No, Simone thought, it had to have been some time after Wizards of Waverly Place. There was just no way. Simone thought about it some more. But probably some time before Dolittle.

Out of the corner of her eye, Simone spotted some serpentine movement. She turned and looked straight at the lizard, which resumed its human form. I’m onto you, she thought. She thought it hard, really focused that psychic energy its way.

The shop assistant didn’t look up. This one was tricky. Slippery. Simone slipped out the door while its attention was still with the customer it was trying to sell a TV to. Sell a TV. More like sell a lifetime of enslavement.

Simone got out the door and broke into a run, putting as much distance as possible between her and the lizard before it noticed.

After seven changes of direction, three blocks and at least one double back, she was pretty sure she’d done enough to evade detection. But then, there at the other end of the street, was another lizard. It looked up and locked eyes with her. Oh no you don’t. She turned and ran the other way, turned right and suddenly Legoland was in front of her. Of course. She must’ve subconsciously run where she knew the lizards couldn’t follow. She picked up her speed, not slowing down as she ran through the front door of Legoland, only stopping when she reached the ticket booth.

“Hello, I need to get in here,” she said to the young man in the booth.

“Um, hello,” he said. “We’re not really open. The doors are only unlocked for cleaning. I’m just here because they want an employee here while there are contractors here.”

“You don’t understand,” said Simone, then paused. What if he really did understand? What if he was… “Are you hot blooded?”

“Uh,” he said. “I don’t really, uh. What?”

She looked at his face. It was flushed and red. No need to worry. He was probably too young to have become a lizard anyway. “I really need to get in there,” she said. “They’re after me.”

“Who?”

She frowned. She couldn’t tell the truth here, she knew that from experience. “Bikies,” she said. “Lots of them.”

“Right,” he said. “That seems really…” he straightened up. “No bikies are going to get one of our customers on my watch!” He disappeared inside the booth.

“Customer?” she said. “I’m not really… you know what, we can discuss that later.” There was the sound of keys from behind the inner door, and they swung open.

“Quick, get in,” he said, and she did. He closed and locked the door behind them. “Follow me, if they’re still following, we’ll lose them.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “They won’t follow us in here.” They wouldn’t dare. They wouldn’t brave this den of creativity.

He shrugged. “So why were bikies after you, anyway?”

She took a deep breath. Sure, she’d only just met him, but something about him… she felt like she could trust him. “It wasn’t bikies,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d believe me if I told you the truth.”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Who, then?”

“Not who,” said Simone. “What.” She thought about it for a moment. “But also who, I guess. Or whom. I’m never sure which is which.”

“Uh, all right,” he said.

“Lizards,” she said. “Lizards who have been replacing our politicians and entertainers and high profile athletes and weather presenters in order to take over the world.” The smile fell from his face. “You don’t believe me. I can’t believe I was so foolish.”

“Oh,” he said, “I believe you.” He reached up to the top of his head and pulled it off. Underneath, he was all lizard.

“But how?” she asked. “Lizards can’t stand the creative energy of LEGO!”

“Look clossssser,” it hissed.

She peered at the nearby LEGO structures. “They’re glued together!”

It smiled. “The perfect cover. No one who’sssss onto usssss would ever think to look for ussss in here.”

“What’s with the drawn out ‘s’ sounds all of a sudden?” she asked. “You weren’t doing it when you were wearing the mask.”

“Fair point,” it said. “It kind of just helps with our image, you know.”

She nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Now, where were we?” it asked.

“The perfect cover?” she suggested.

“Right!” It thought for a moment. “Yeah, I think that’s about all I needed to say. Guess I’ll just silence you forever, now.”

“Now, let’s be reasonable,” she said, but she knew it was a futile thought. To a lizard, eating her face was entirely reasonable.

Fortunately, it was at this time that a reinforced LEGO fist crashed through the roof, followed by the legs and body of a gigantic LEGO mech. The hand reached down to Simone. “Get on,” said a familiar voice. Simone didn’t see many other options that didn’t involve having her face eaten by lizards, so she climbed onto the mech’s giant LEGO hand, which picked her up to face the pilot of the mech. “Hello Simone,” said Madame President. “We have been watching you.”

“I knew it!” said Simone.

The LEGO mech stepped on the lizard on the ground and squished it. “Well, not quite,” said Earth President Selena Gomez. “We’re not all lizards.” The hand opened the cockpit of the mech and gently dropped Simone inside. The President turned to Simone and smiled. “Some of us are lizardslayers. Come, let me show you our secret hideout. Now, buckle up.”

Simone buckled herself into the copilot’s seat and held on as the mech ran away with the two of them inside. “But what about Dolittle?” asked Simone.

“Hmm?”

“It just doesn’t make sense that non-lizards would make that.”

Selena looked sad. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” She reached her hand up to the top of her head. “I really wish this could’ve gone differently.”

As the lizard pulled its mask off, Simone unbelted and jumped for the controls. “Wait!” it said, but it was too late for that. The two giant LEGO hands swung towards the cockpit of the mech, meeting each other with force. The second last thing that went through Simone’s head was, you know what, all things considered, this day could’ve gone worse. I took two with me. The last thing that went through her head were the walls of the mech.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



In, flash.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.




Your two mainish characters are on very different scales, like maybe one is a microbe inside the other one, but not that specific example but you get the idea

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Sitting Here posted:

Music is visible as well as audible in your story.


It Isn’t Well

They were late, and there were no places available to park. Mark had the idea to park on the roof of the church, which seemed to work except that getting down afterwards might be tricky. “We’ll just lower it in through the roof afterwards,” said Habakkuk, “like in that bit in that book.”

“The Bible?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

There were also not many seats left. There were exactly two, in fact. Well strictly speaking, all the seats were available, because people were standing to sing, but on previous occasions when they’d sat in a seat that someone was standing in front of, there had been some unpleasantness, and the military had had to be called in, and you can only call the military in three or four times before they get sick of your shenanigans and ask you to seriously knock it off, OK. “Hey,” said Habakkuk, “can I not sit on the end seat?”

“You made us late with your whole armed robbery thing you had going on,” said Mark. “Besides, I wanna sit next to Constance.”

“It wasn’t meant to be an armed robbery,” said Habakkuk, but he allowed Mark to squeeze in first, and took the seat next to him. This meant he was standing right behind Abraham, which was less than ideal during the singing bits.

Abraham’s singing was big and loud and colourful and majestic, but whereas most people sang kind of forward or at a downward angle or maybe, if they felt moved, at a slight angle upwards, Abraham sang with his face tilted either completely vertically, or sometimes even a little bit behind him, and it was hard to see past his notes.

“I don’t know this song well enough to be behind Captain Upsinger,” said Habakkuk.

“Oh, come on, you can see around his notes kinda.”

“I’m gonna say something.”

“Please don’t.”

But Habakkuk tapped Abraham on the face to get his attention. “Excuse me.”

Abraham stopped singing and tilted back so that he was eye to eye with Habakkuk. “Can this wait until after we’re done praising the Lord?”

“Well that’s the thing, see,” said Habakkuk. “Do you think you could maybe sing towards the bow, rather than aloft or aft?”

“I’m not really fluent in nautical,” said Abraham.

“Um,” said Habakkuk. “I can’t really see over your singing when you’re facing that way.”

“I’m just making a joyful noise, friend,” said Abraham.

“Well, could you direct your joy maybe forward or off to the side or even downwards or something?”

“I’ll try,” said Abraham, “but sometimes the spirit just moves me.”

And true to his word, Abraham sung more towards the front of the church. However, the next song was It Is Well, and that is we in the biz describe as a ‘banger’, and before long Abraham was kneeling in a very joyful pose, face pointed towards the heavens, in a state of holy bliss, singing up in a big column, obscuring Habakkuk’s vision. “This is absolute bollocks,” said Habakkuk, and went down the back to grab a beer.

Three hours later the hymns were over and Habakkuk had finished his beer, so he came back and sat down. “Hey,” said Mark, “wanted you to be the first to know. Constance and I just got engaged.”

“What, just then?”

“Yeah,” said Mark.

“Congratulations!” said Habakkuk.

“Shh!” said Abraham, for the sermon had begun.

Faith was giving the sermon on 2 Samuel 17, and was doing a really good job of it, drawing hooting and hollering from some of the more enthusiastic members of the congregation. “Dang,” said Mark, “no one sermons quite like Faith. She’s the best in the biz.”

Habakkuk shrugged. “Is Faith sermoning? I hadn’t noticed.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Come on. You’re allowed to notice she’s the sermoner.”

“I don’t know if I am,” said Habakkuk, “because the last time I noticed something you were all like ‘Ooooh, Habakkuk wants to tell a foreign ruler that Faith is actually his sister,’ for like three minutes straight.”

“I never did,” said Mark, but Habakkuk fished into his back pocket and produced the video evidence that, in fact, Mark had said that, and many other things besides. “All right,” said Mark, “maybe I did say that, although in my defense, you do totally want to work for seven years to be duped by her father into marrying her older sister.”

“No I don’t,” said Habakkuk, “why would anyone want that?”

“OK look,” said Mark, “it’s hard to make some of these biblical disses work, OK?”

The people around them started standing up. “Oh,” said Constance, “back to singing, are we?”

It wasn’t long into the seventh song of the session before Abraham was singing right back into Habakkuk’s face. “You know what,” said Habakkuk, “this is just not gonna work, I’m going blind here.”

He slipped out of the aisle, walked twelve aisles over and seventeen rows forward to where Faith was, and recommenced singing. “Oh, hi Habakkuk,” said Faith.

“Hi,” said Habakkuk, trying to be totally nonchalant.

“What brings you this far down the front?”

“Can I get a lift home?” asked Habakkuk. “Mark parked on the roof again.”

“Sure,” said Faith, “but I can’t drive you home until tomorrow, since today’s the sabbath and all.”

“Fair enough,” said Habakkuk, “I’m in no rush.”

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



896 words btw

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



in

edit: also flash

Chairchucker fucked around with this message at 08:42 on Mar 30, 2020

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Sitting Here posted:


Team: Voidstricken
You get a character role! Your story features at least one janitor who has seen too little (they're new on the job).


Tough on Stains and Accursed Abominations 580 words

Hercules’ mop needed replacing.

It wasn’t a bad mop. But it hadn’t been designed to deal with… whatever that stuff was. It could deal with vomit or fecal matter or acidic substances or really, almost anything else he’d had to mop up, but whatever the residue was that was left in the showers, that had been steadily eating through his mop.

He’d sent an order to Void HQ for a new one, but that was scheduled to take five weeks to process, and he just wasn’t sure he’d have any mop left by the time that got done. It was worrying him, and was foremost on his mind when the dissidents came in through the toilets.

Coming out of a toilet bowl wasn’t the normal method of entry to the restrooms, but it made sense that people would be able to fit. After all, he was often called upon to dispose of various miscellaneous objects down the toilets, and a plumbing system that could accommodate a mannequin with twelve arms was bound to fit a person with only two.

“Oi,” said Hercules. “Mate.”

“What tower floor are we on?” asked one of the dissidents.

“The wrong bloody floor,” he said. “I just mopped in here. Back you go.”

“I don’t think so, minion of darkness,” said the same dissident, who seemed to be the leader, but Hercules slapped them with his gross wet mop, and they retreated back into the toilet bowl. Once they were back inside, Hercules closed the toilet bowls and locked them. He’d sometimes wondered why they had padlocks, and now he wondered no longer.

They’d tracked a bunch of unpleasant things over the floor, so Hercules mopped those things up again, then went to decontaminate and eat lunch.

When he got back from lunch, he found that someone had used one of the toilets and neglected to lock it again afterwards. There was now a trail of muck from the toilets, out of the restrooms.

“Oh no,” said Hercules. “That ain’t on at all.”

The handheld mop wasn’t gonna cut it. Hercules jumped on the ride on mop, put the handheld one in the back, and followed the trail. He didn’t often use the ride on, because it didn’t corner well in a tight space like a bathroom, but for a single trail of muck it should do the job.

He found the dissidents attempting to overthrow some security guards who were guarding the elevators to the tower’s offices. They were actually going all right, too, but if muck from his bathrooms made it to the offices, there would be A Reckoning. That is, Hercules reckoned he’d be buggered. He put his foot down and drove through the dissidents, bowling them over and thoroughly mopping them. Then he put it in park, grabbed the handheld mop, and set about them with gusto.

The dissidents weren’t sent back down the toilet when the security guards finished pacifying them. Well, most of them weren’t. Two of them appeared to have been accidentally pacified a little too vigorously, and were later disposed of down the toilet. The rest were taken away for re-educating.

Hercules didn’t worry about all that; above his pay grade, that kind of unpleasantness. He did drop some hints to the guards about how helpful he’d been, and how his tools could use a bit of an upgrade.

Two days later, a shiny new mop appeared in his cleaning cupboard.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Yes hello in give me a song please I don't mind which I don't think he's ever written a bad one.

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Nethilia posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p5rQHoaQpTw
Bennie and the Jets

FLASH! You cannot use the name Benny or any variations or variant spellings (such as Ben/Benjamin/Benita Applebum/etc) or have jets.

Katie and the Whirlwinds 1097 words

The crowd roared their appreciation as they walked on the stage. Some people held up signs pledging their eternal devotion, other chanted their names, and a large group of fans had built a diorama of double life size depicting the three of them playing, which was very impressive to have done in just the half hour the fans had been allowed in the stadium, and also maybe a little bit of a fire hazard.

“Should we consider getting the diorama removed?” asked Fiona.

“No way,” said Katie, “that’s amazing.”

“It is,” said Fiona, “it really is. But.”

“Yeah,” said Katie, “I get it, but come on, it’s awesome.”

Megan didn’t say anything, because she was busy checking on the pyrotechnics in her drum kit. She hadn’t told the others about the pyrotechnics, because they’d just complain about safety regulations and the legal repercussions if she accidentally caused another incident, and who needed that hassle?

“You ready, Meg?” asked Katie.

Megan nodded and crossed her drumsticks in front of her.

“Fi?”

Fi adopted a power stance, axe in hand. “I was born ready.”

“Hello Sherwood!” said Katie. “We are Katie and the Whirlwinds! Are you ready to get down and get crazy?”

The crowd agreed that they were.

“One! Two! Three! Four!” yelled Megan, punctuating each number with a clack of her sticks, and then Fiona let out the first power chord and Katie let out her first gut wrenching scream.

~

The energy was high, Katie was in good voice, and the crowd was singing along to every song. It was pretty much the perfect gig, so far.

“All right Sherwood, this is our last song, you’ve been fantastic.” Katie winked at Fiona and Megan, the conspiring wink of someone who knows that actually, it’s not their last song because they have an encore coming up.

Megan gave a knowing smile, the smile of a drummer who had an illegal and unsafe amount of pyrotechnics stashed in her drums. Their ‘last song’ was a ballad. Megan grabbed her lighter and started a gentle sway, Fiona made her guitar cry and Katie sang about how some jerk had wronged her most grievously. The crowd swayed and sang along, and as Katie sung the last note and dropped the microphone, Fiona put down her guitar, still crying out its final notes, and the three of them walked off the stage.

“Whirlwinds! Whirlwinds! Whirlwinds!” chanted the crowd.

“You know what, this has gone pretty well so far,” said Fiona.

Katie nodded. “I was worried about that oversized diorama,” she said foreshadowingly, “but clearly there was nothing to worry about.”

“So how long do we wait?” asked Megan.

Fiona shrugged. “I think we just kinda feel the vibe or something, right?”

“Yeah,” said Katie, “just sit and soak up this adulation for a bit.”

Fiona nodded. “Hey, did we wanna do a costume change?”

“I didn’t really bring another costume,” said Megan. “This feels like the kind of thing we really want to plan in advance, not just be spontaneous.”

“We could just swap with each other,” said Katie.

“Is that weird?” asked Fiona.

Megan had already taken her shirt off and handed it to Katie. “Oh,” said Katie. “You really work up a sweat there, huh?”

“Little bit. Drummer life.”

“You know what, you keep it.”

“Suit yourself,” said Megan, and dropped her shirt over the back of a seat. “I think I’m just gonna go out there in my sports bra rather than put that back on.”

“Ooh,” said Fiona, “that’s a bit saucy, I think I’ll do that too.” She took her shirt off and put it next to Megan’s.

“I dunno about saucy,” said Megan, “I’m just hot and don’t wanna put a soaked shirt back on.”

“Yeah,” said Katie, “I’m not going out on stage without my shirt.”

“Speaking of which, I think they might be getting a little restless,” said Fiona. “I think we’ve just gotta get out there.”

“I’m gonna put your shirt on,” said Katie.

“Next time,” said Megan, “let’s actually organize a proper costume change instead of whatever this is.”

She walked back on and waved to the crowd, who gave a cheer, as if they’d have expected them not to come back. Fiona walked back on and picked up her still weeping guitar, and continued playing the same note, and the crowd cheered again. Katie walked back onstage in Fiona’s shirt, picked the microphone up and yelled out at the crowd, “Thanks for sticking around, Sherwood! I guess you’re not done rocking with us?”

The crowd cheered a cheer that meant no, indeed they were not. Katie looked back at Fiona and Megan and nodded. Fiona played a power chord, and Megan pressed the pedal that made the pyrotechnics in her drum kit go off.

For the most part the pyrotechnics were fine, except the one that shot out of the bass drum, landed in the diorama and set it on fire. The crowd around the diorama initially tried to put it out by blowing or spitting on it, but as it became increasingly clear that this was not going to work, and the flames grew increasingly higher, started to ripple out away from that part of the stadium.

Katie stopped singing and the other two stopped playing, and Katie and Fiona looked at Megan, the disapproving look of two bandmates who had told her plenty of times that we have professionals who are paid to do that kind of thing, Megan, and we don’t need these kind of shenanigans.

“Yeah okay,” said Megan, “that’s my bad guys.”

“Guess we better bug out before this whole situation gets out of hand,” said Katie, and Fiona pressed down on a pedal nearby. Before long, a helicopter was hovering overhead, and had dropped a rope ladder.

~

As they watched Sherwood Forest burn from their helicopter, Megan said, “All right, but the pyrotechnics looked pretty good before we burned everything down, right?”

“It looked extremely cool, Meg,” said Fiona, who’d had time to calm down. “Very rock and roll.”

“They’ll definitely be reading about us in the magazines,” said Katie.

“drat, I left my shirt down there,” said Megan.

“At least I’ve got yours, Fi,” said Katie, then took it off and gave it back to her. She was wearing her own underneath.

“All right,” said Fiona after she’d put it back on. “We’ve gotta talk costume changes for our next gig.”

“And pyrotechnics,” said Megan.

The other two looked at her.

“All right, no pyrotechnics for a bit.”

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



in flash

Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Saucy_Rodent posted:

I mentioned this in the discord, but please give me all the flash rules you can, make them all big and stupid as you please, I will incorporate all of them into my story

Casino heists are cool imo

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Chairchucker
Nov 14, 2006

The man was stunningly well dressed. He had a smart looking jacket, and a really neat looking cape, the lining of which was shimmering and sparkling in more than Oriental splendour, which is a great deal of splendour indeed, just ask Kipling.



Three losses! Ah, ah, ahhhhhh.

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