The Campaign Builder's Guild

Revised my earlier piece.  Not sure how I feel about it, but I think it's a bit of an improvement.

[ic=Honor Amongst]The door slams open and three men burst in.

They kick a table over, glasses go flying.

The room had been filled with the sounds of a party. Now it's silent. Jean is on the other side of the room, standing in disbelief.

'I like an entrance, don't you? Now, your money and valuables,' says their leader.

I choke back laughter. I'm going to find it hard to take killing them seriously if they act like this. I mean, who says that? Seriously.

They begin a 'collection.' One walks up to me.

'How about it, pretty lady?' he asks, with a stupid grin on his face.

I mutter those words. The pretentious ones are easy.

He never sees it coming. My hand grasping his throat. The slight shift to put him off balance. The wood floor rushing up to meet his head. It all flows like water.

He hits the floor and the room shakes. The planks splinter.

The room turns and looks at me. The thief is dead. My smile's gotten wider. The two thieves just stand there, gawking.

You know how snakes can dislocate their jaws to swallow prey whole? My smile is like that now. When I smile like this, it scares me sometimes.

'W-what...' the leader splutters.

What was that? I didn't quite hear you. I don't wait for a clarification; I wasn't going to let him finish.

This time, I mutter those other words.

I move forward. Walking. Running. Sprinting. Flying. He'll see it coming. But he won't be able to do anything.

I stroke his face with my finger as I go past. His head snaps back with a tell-tale crack. He drops to the floor.

I land and grit my teeth. The ground is pain. I was having too much fun with him. I had stopped paying attention. My feet are bleeding.

The other one runs. I don't care. I'm on the floor, clenching my feet.

I start pulling one piece of glass out, slow. Pain. I take a breath and clench my teeth. I pull it out fast. Fire. I pull another piece out. Not as bad, but I'm tearing up now. Last one. It's in the other foot. It's worse than the first; I can't even see for a few seconds afterwards. I'd thought that was just an expression.

I try standing up, but I fall right back down. I can't even walk.

I manage a smile as Jean comes to me. She tears part of her dress and starts bandaging my feet. I almost manage a chuckle. Doing something like that, really. Like me, she didn't fit in at this party anyway.

She pauses and pushes her hair out of the way. She wore it loose for once.

She stops. Suddenly, realization flashes over her face.

She grins.

I think she knows who I am now.

'You're under arrest.'

Yep.[/ic]

[ic=That Time of the Month]Once again, I can't sleep.  This always happens right before that time of the month, as if I needed another reminder.  I've come to dread it.  That said, it is not like it's something I can control.

One of the first things I notice is that, my skin gets really sensitive.  Even the softest clothes I have irritate my skin, almost like being sunburned all over.  Everything starts to make me itch, too.  It's not exactly fun.

A couple of months ago, I moved to an abandoned cabin in the middle of nowhere. When it gets to be that time of the month, I generally stay away from the village down the road.  I'd say I'm usually a pretty quiet, but I've noticed that I start snapping at people over little things then.  It makes me feel bad, you know.  But it's not like I can control it.


'Go away.'

'Is that any way to greet a guest?' Lasa asks him.

There's a long pause.  Lasa looks back towards the setting sun.

'Look, will you just go aw-'

'No.'  She crosses her arms.  I would say, 'for effect,' but I don't think he'll see it on the other side of a door.

He mumbles something.  Neither of us can hear it.

'What?'

'Please.'

''Please' what?'

I can just barely hear him sigh through the door.

'This is a really bad time for me.  Couldn't you just-'

'No.'

There she goes with that grin again.  It scares me a little to think how much she likes toying with people.  You know, what with her being a witch and all.

The guy doesn't say anything for a long time.  Lasa looks over her shoulder again.

'If you don't let us in, we're just going to have to come in.'  Her grin gets wider again.  I wouldn't be surprised if she used magic to do that or something.

'NO!  I mean... I'm sorry.  This is just not a good time.  Please...'

'Lasa, we could just come back tomorr-'

'No.  Look.' She points at the setting sun behind her without turning.

'Seriously, what does that have to do with anything?  You're acting as weird as he is.'

'It's only part of the problem.  Well, neither of them are problem.  Once we can see the other thing, he'll be the problem.'

'Uh... what?'

'Anyway...'

Lasa whispers something.  She puts her hand on the door and I hear something click.  She pushes and the door creaks open.

She steps into the doorway, still grinning.

'How did you...'

'Sit, boy,' she says as she points to a chair.

'Jean, remind me why we came up here again?'

'There's been weird stuff happening every couple of weeks or so for the last few months.  Strange noises, animals killed and eaten by something big, people seeing some kind of large animal at night, that sort of thing.'

'And how would you connect all of those?'

'I don't know.'

The guy is just sitting there with his head down.  He seems pretty upset.  And I can't figure out what Lasa is getting at.

Lasa squats down in front of him, arms crossed, with that Cheshire cat grin of hers.  He looks up, leaving his head down, and sighs.

'This man, Jean,' she says to me, 'is a werewolf.'

'Okay...'  I start to take this in and remember something.  Something really important.

'Wait, Lasa, isn't tonight the full mo-.  Shit.'


The one woman, Jean, looks like she's in the guard from the city down the road.  The other one, Lasa, well, I have no clue who or what she is.  You know, aside from clever and all smiles.  No, that's not really right.  She doesn't look like the type that smiles all the time.  More like, she just has this huge shit-eating grin she'll put on whenever it suits her.  Appropriateness be damned.

I guess my real problem right now is that they're still here.  The whole point of going to this cabin was to get away from people.  Because I'm afraid.  Afraid of what they'd do to me if they found out.  Afraid of what I might do to them.  But here they are.  Jean just remembered what tonight is.  She looks nervous, to say the least.  Lasa knew to begin with, and is just standing there grinning that Cheshire cat grin.  I can't tell if she's brave or crazy or smug.  It kind of pisses me off.

I start feeling weird.  My joints all ache, like growing pains when I was a kid.  My teeth feel a little loose when I play with them with my tongue.  And I'm really, really hungry.  I know this feeling.  I mouth for them to run.  But words don't come.  It's starting.[/ic]

More flash fiction with Lasa and Jean.  I ended up starting this once, stopping, starting completely over, and stopping again.  I ended up fusing the two attempts into this one story.

Interesting piece; I really like the quick, back-and-forth pace of it.  Is this set in the modern day??

Quote from: SteerpikeInteresting piece; I really like the quick, back-and-forth pace of it.  Is this set in the modern day??

I realized after I wrote the earlier piece with Lasa and Jean that it was really ambiguous as to the time period.  These two stories are supposed to be set in my setting, which is medieval fantasy.  I kind of like, however, that it's ambiguous.

In the case of an ambiguous time setting you may want to avoid references like the Cheshire Cat, simply because they allude so strongly to the real world.  A bit like using the word byzantine or machiavellian to describe the politics of a fantasy world, or using the same days of the week...

Revisions, with thanks to Steerpike.  Same story, now with +2 to temporal ambiguity.

[ic=That Time of the Month]Once again, I can't sleep.  This always happens right before that time of the month, as if I needed another reminder.  I've come to dread it.  That said, it is not like it's something I can control.

One of the first things I notice is that my skin gets really sensitive.  Even the softest clothes I have irritate my skin, like being sunburned all over.  Everything starts to make me itch, too.  It's not exactly fun.

A couple of months ago, I moved to an abandoned cabin that's pretty far out of the way.  When it gets to be that time of the month, I generally stay away from the village down the road.  I'd say I'm usually a pretty quiet, but I've noticed that I start snapping at people over little things around then.  It makes me feel bad, you know.  But it's not like I can control it.


'Go away.'

'Is that any way to greet a guest?' Lasa asks him.

There's a long pause.  Lasa looks back towards the setting sun.

'Look, will you just go aw-'

'No.'  She crosses her arms.  I would say, 'for effect,' but I don't think he'll see it on the other side of a door.

He mumbles something.  Neither of us can hear it.

'What?'

'Please.'

''Please' what?'

I can just barely hear him sigh through the door.

'Right now is a really bad time for me.  Couldn't you just-'

'No.'

There she goes with that grin again.  It scares me a little to think how much she likes toying with people.  You know, what with her being a witch and all.

The guy doesn't say anything for a long time.  Lasa looks over her shoulder again.

'If you don't let us in, we're just going to have to come in.'  Her grin gets wider again.  I wouldn't be surprised if she used her magic to do that or something.

'NO!  I mean... I'm sorry.  This is just not a good time.  Please...'

'Lasa, we could just come back tomorr-'

'No.  Look.' She points at the setting sun behind her without turning.

'Seriously, what does that have to do with anything?  You're acting as weird as he is.'

'It's only part of the problem,' she stops to think about something for a second.  'Well, neither of them are problem.  Once we can see the other thing, though, he'll be the problem.'

'Uh... what?'

'Anyway...'

Lasa whispers something.  She puts her hand on the door and I hear something click.  She pushes and the door creaks open.

She steps into the doorway, still grinning.

'How did you...'

'Sit, boy,' she says as she points to a chair.  'Jean, remind me why we came up here again?'

'There's been weird stuff happening every couple of weeks or so for the last few months.  Strange noises, animals killed and eaten by something big, people seeing some kind of large animal at night, that sort of thing.'

'And how would you connect all of those?'

'I don't know.'

The guy is just sitting there with his head down.  He seems pretty upset.  And I can't figure out what Lasa is getting at.

Lasa squats down in front of him, arms crossed, grinning from ear to ear.  He looks up, leaving his head down, and sighs.

'This man, Jean,' she says to me, 'is a werewolf.'

As I am taking this in, I remember something.  Something really important.

'Wait, Lasa, isn't tonight the full mo-  Shit.'


The one woman, Jean, looks like she's in the guard from the city down the road.  The other one, Lasa, well, I have no clue who or what she is.  You know, aside from clever and all smiles.  No, that's not really right.  She doesn't look like the type that smiles all the time.  More like, she just has this huge, shit-eating grin she'll put on whenever it suits her.  Appropriateness be damned.

I guess my real problem right now is that they're still here.  The whole point of going to this cabin was to get away from people.  Because I'm afraid.  Afraid of what they'd do to me if they found out.  Afraid of what I might do to them.  But here they are.  Jean just remembered what tonight is.  She looks nervous, to say the least.  Lasa knew to begin with, and is just standing there grinning that damned grin of hers.  I can't tell if she's brave or crazy or smug.  It kind of pisses me off.

I start feeling weird.  My joints all ache, like growing pains when I was a kid.  My teeth feel weird. They're a little loose when I play with them with my tongue.  And I'm really, really hungry.  I know this feeling.  I mouth for them to run.  But words don't come.

It's starting.[/ic]

This is really short, but I like it just the way it is.

[ic=Eating the Big Cheese]'Did you know the Moon eats the Sun every eighteen years?'

'At least, I'm sure that's what some shaman probably thought up ten thousand years ago or so to explain solar eclipses.  They noticed something other people didn't '" something elemental in how the universe works '" and they gained power.'

'And that, Jean, is where babies come from.'

With that last quip, she gives me a look.

'That's where magic comes from...?'

She's still giving me that look.

'Alright, fine, it's a useless piece of anthropological and astronomical knowledge.'

She cracks a grin.[/ic]

Mysteries solved!  Mysteries revealed!  Other crap!

[ic=Whipped Cream]It looks as if they have switched bodies.

Jean is giving me a look, but Alice seems to either not know about, or more likely not care about, our argument.

'You drunk shit, you have no clue what you're talking about.'

Obviously, Jean does not share my love for the Geo Metro.

'That car's an absolute piece of garbage.'

Nope.

'Ah, but have you ever owned one?'

'That's not the point.'

'But you can't judge it just on some stories you heard...'

'Yes I can.'

'No you can't.'

Thunk.

Alice interrupts with a beer bottle to the table.

'So, yeah.  Beer.  Drink it.'

I get the feeling that if she wanted to, she could drink the both of us under the table.  Without magic.

Thinking about it, I haven't drank in a good while.  I wasn't sure at first how drinking would affect my condition, but it seems not to.  Probably should hold back around that time, though.

And of course, as if reading my mind '" and I'm not entirely sure she can't do that...

'Dave, you're more fun when you're on your period.'

Jean giggles at that.

'What.'

'You heard me.'

They're both giggling now.

'Look, I know you're crazy, but I personally don't consider transforming into a ravenous beast 'fun''.

'Suit yourself.'

'I will.'

'Fine, then'

'It is fine.'

'We're out of beer.'

'Wait, what?'

'Beer.  We don't have any more of it.'

I sigh.  I know where this is going.

'Go get some more.'

I look at my watch.  Crap.  Liquor stores should still, unfortunately, be open.

'Pleeease?'

I get up with a bit of a wobble, grab my wallet and keys, and head out.

Come to think about it, this crappy motel room we've been holed up in for the past three days isn't that bad, comparatively.  But I still miss my cabin.

I swagger along to the store.  Though I know it won't work, I try to make smoke rings with my breath in the night air.  I still don't get why that doesn't work.  Ten minutes pass and I'm there.  Seems it's routine in these parts to come back for more; the clerk doesn't even look at me twice.

I'm starting to get a bit soberer walking back.  I think my tolerance has gone down since I last drank.  Probably should slow down a bit.

As I reach for the door handle, I hear a scream from inside.  It's Jean.

I open the door.  What I see before me makes me grin one of those grins Alice makes.  Apparently, there was a can of whipped cream stashed in the fridge.  It has partially been discharged in Jean's hair.

Like the golden apple was to the quick girl.[/ic]
[spoiler]A situation very much like this happened to me once.

[spoiler]Yes, the whipped cream thing.[/spoiler][/spoiler]

EDIT: I forgot to mention, in a setting retcon, Lasa is now Alice.  I'll revise the other stories eventually.

Why is 'Pleiades' not in spellcheckers but 'Orion' is?  That's kind of silly...

Also, new characters in a new story.  Almost too much new to handle.
[ic=One Week Left]We're sitting on the curb.  

It's like, shit, I don't even know how late.

I'm leaving in a week.

'You see Orion right?'

'Yeah.  I think so.'

I have no clue where this is going.

'There's a little grouping of stars below and to the right of it.  That's the Pleiades.'

'Where?'

 Is it going anywhere?

'There.'  I point.  At this point, I just have to hope.  Pointing never works.

'I don't see it.  Show me.'  Claudia leans closer.

I can't say I mind.  Although, it doesn't help the situation any.

'I am.  They're right there.'

'That?'  She points.  It's hopeless.  I give up for now.  It would probably help if we weren't as drunk.

I'm not good at this sort of thing.  I can't get a feel for it.

'Why do you talk about stars anyway?'

'Because they're interesting.'

I'd like to assume everyone feels like this, but I'm not sure.

I hate telling some stories.  People will probably tell you otherwise, but there are just some stories I hate telling.  'Why Joe's Interested in Stars' one of them.

'Uh huh.'

My friends deem to give me advice on this sort of thing whenever they can.  I usually don't listen.

'No, really.  They are.  So the story with the Pleiades and Orion is really weird.  Constellations are just lines drawn between stars right?  But tons of cultures saw the same things when they saw them.'

'Okay.'  It's a lost cause.

But really, I'd just like to know what she really thinks about me.

'So, like, lots of people saw the Pleiades as seven sisters.  Or at least seven siblings.  Except for the Aztecs.  They saw it as a market place.'

'You still haven't told me why you think I'm picky.'  She changed the topic.  Now onto a whole other can of worms...

Why am I assuming she thinks anything about me?

'I don't remember.'

'You have to tell me.'

Christ, there's the depression talking again.  I don't know what she thinks, I can't.  Best not to speculate.

'But I can't tell you something I don't remember...'

She smacks me on the arm.  'Tell me.'  I can almost never tell if she's joking.  People tell me I do that, too.

Maybe she's smart like that.  Maybe she's just keeping it like this because I'm leaving.  I'm not sure I like it like this.

'Tell me.'

I point up at a random star.  It's not even particularly bright.  'Because I don't like where that star is.'

Life is absurd.  People tell me otherwise.  I might think otherwise, but if I believe that it is, it might end up being that.  At least it would make things simpler.  You wouldn't need to speculate.

'What?  What kind of answer is that?'

'A bad one.'  She smacks me again.

I don't think I've ever told her I think stuff like that.  Judging by how well this has gone, though, I don't think she'll care.

"Why do you want to know things?  You can't really know things.  Like, you can't know your neighbor here thinks it's cool we're on his curb.  Well... he probably doesn't know we've ever been on his curb."

She give me a look.  And smacks me again.[/ic]

I look through some of the older stuff every time I post.  I can't believe I wrote some of that.

I'd like to say I grew up since then, but hell, look at what I write now... :3