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Whoops, didn’t catch your post, @aislinn-mollisong. If it’s okay with @Ethryndal you can pick it up from there. 😀
@kate-flournoy Oh my word! Reading that was epic! 😀
"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
Victor looked at his feathers. They were shameful really. A lovely reminder of how he should have listened to his brother. Something electrocuted Victor. He glared at Greenew. Or however he was supposed to pronounce that name. “But you have to turn me back into a human! I have family. People I love. A home!”
It was only after he said that when Victor realized he’d been screeching like a maniac, rainbow-feathered bird. Which, as a point of fact, he was.
Greenw smiled at him in a way that a bird smiles. Victor shivered. Bird smiles are creepy things. Open mouth, revealing a line of tiny teeth. It made Graenw’s eyes look a half size too large. Greenwich said “The jungle is just as good a home as that village to the East.”
“What about those power-hungry humans you were talking about?” Victor asked as he flicked a beetle off his wing.
Wing… Victor dearly hoped he wasn’t going insane…
Graenw grabbed the big and crunched it between those teeth of his. “Well, I guess I could make some arrangements for you to return to that disgraceful, colorless humanness of yours…” He flashed his teeth. “If you agreed to do something for me.”
“What?” Victor muttered. Anything. At this point, he would do anything to get out of these hot, sticky feathers.
“Destroy the power-hungry humans!” Graenw said. He waved his wings about. Slapped Victor in the process.
Victor swallowed down dryness. Anything, he’d said. He would do anything.
Victor wished he said Almost Anything.Voila! There it is, @catwing
And I
I’m going to hand this off to @aislinn-mollisong Enjoy!☀ ☀ ☀ ENFP ☀ ☀ ☀
@kate-flournoy Oh, oh! Please don’t tell me you’re turning it back into fantasy after all my hard work to the contrary! 😮
It’s very interesting, though. I guess you people can’t survive without fantasy, can you? 😀
"Sylvester - Sylvester!"
@kate-flournoy I’ll go with the Victor story, if you don’t mind. The other one is getting a little bit too epic for me. 😉
@dragon-snapper Here we go….Graenw smiled maliciously, although Victor wasn’t quite sure how the creature’s face managed the expression. “I want you to destroy AAAAALLLLLL THE HUUUMMMMMAAAAANNNNSSS!” He screeched. Victor wished he had hands so he could cover his ears.
“Uh, sure. And…how am I gonna do that? I am four inches tall. And I’m a bird.” He waved his rainbow wing for emphasis. “And not a cool kind, either, like with talons or something. Just a tiny, harmless bird.” He didn’t think Graenw would give up that easily, but hey, it was worth a try.
“Oh, but you forget, I can change you into ANYTHING!” The fluffy changeling beast cackled insanely. Victor was liking the situation less and less every millisecond. “For instance…a BEAR!”
Victor’s wings morphed into furry legs and clawed paws, and he grew seven feet in as many seconds. “Uh…sure, this could work.” His words now came out as growls and snorts.
“Or…a LION!” Victor’s brown, shaggy fur shortened and grew tawny. His head entirely changed shape, and a massive mane now hung about his face.
“Yeah, let’s go with this!” He roared, hoping Graenw wouldn’t turn him into something more deadly like a-
“DRAGON!!!!”
Blast.
I nominate…@sam-kowal and Stan to write the next part. (Unless they’ve already written one, in which case I apologize.)
ENTP, Aether-borg Hero with cape obsession and fascination with swords.
https://forums.theaetherli@aislinn-mollisong Oh wow. Giving Stan the reigns to a dragon story is going to end up dangerous. He’s wanted to be a full-fledged dragon his whole life.
Story 1
Victor had to admit, being a dragon was cool. He could tell as soon Graenw morphed him into the beast how much power was bound inside his scaled limbs, begging to be used. How much strength resided in the span of his mighty wings, wings he knew could thrust him into the sky with the power of a hurricane and the delicacy of a sparrow. Something else, too, burned inside Victor’s new stomach- warmth, but not uncomfortable. With a thrill, Victor realized it was his fire.
The feeling made him rather giddy. Of course, he felt a twinge of cold in his stomach along with the warmth, and his throat was still uncomfortably dry. He had just been roped into destroying a bunch of humans. And now, instead of being a little bird and having to attempt that, he was a dragon. Dragons had a lot ore destructive power at their finger…err, talontips. He probably should be guilty about that.
“What do you think?” Gaenw squeaked. He looked like a tiny ball of fluff on the forest floor from Victor’s new point of view.
Victor smiled, and felt his scaly lips peel back over a rack of sword-like fangs. He jabbed one of his talons into the forest floor to see how far it would go in.
“I think I am invincible,” he growled, admiring his impossibly deep and menacing voice. “I am unstoppable.”
“Of course!” Gaenw jumped up and down on the ground like an excited puppy. “Now, go destroy humans!”
Victor yanked his talon back out of the dirt, then wiped it on a bed of leaves to clean off the clumps of earth that had stuck to it. He looked at Gaenw for a moment.
“I can’t go destroy my village,” he said. “I can’t. My family is there. I love my family. I would be a monster.”
“You already are a monster,” Gaenw pointed out. “You’re a dragon. C’mon.”
Victor frowned, which was an uncomfortable position to take as a dragon, with his fangs poking at his lips. Why did he have to destroy the village again?
“Wait a sec,” Victor rumbled. “You were going to change me back into a human if I destroyed the humans, right? Well, now I don’t want to be a human.” He licked one of his fangs and grinned. “I’ve decided I like being a dragon.”
“No,” Gaenw insisted. “I’m ordering you to destroy the power-hungry humans.”
Victor arched his neck and slid his head down towards Gaenw, widening his sharply focused new eyes. He peered at the fluffy animal.
“Excuse me?” Victor asked, showing his fangs, which were longer than Gaenw’s entire body. “I don’t think you’re in the position to be doing much ordering around, right now. I could breathe fire on you.” He growled at Gaenw and smoke puffed from his nostrils.
Victor blinked. He hadn’t been quite that domineering as a human, he didn’t think, but being a dragon of course would tend to make one a little more aggressive. With all the power available to him, and such, but the change was still a major improvement.
“So,” Victor continued. “I think I shall try out my newfound abilities…”
The forest floor sunk beneath him as Victor kicked with his hind legs, sprouting a spray of dirt and young saplings into the air. He tightened his wings and leaped beyond the treetops, then unfolded his wings like massive sails and they caught the wind.
Cool air rushed over his body. Victor flapped, feeling a vortex of wind blast from his wing beats and propel him high into the sky. He stretched out with his neck and gazed at the landscape beneath him, unfolded like a map. Treet were twigs, streams tiny trickles of moisture, and even the deepest reaches of the forest seemed only a few flaps away.
Crowing, Victor roared. Being a dragon wasn’t just cool. Being a dragon made him lord of the entire forest. Clenching his stomach tight, Victor instinctively squeezed and felt something hot spurt along the length of his throat. He snapped open his maw and a volcano of flames exploded out of his mouth, searing with heat.
They engulfed his entire field of vision, altogether as large as a small cloud. Victor blasted again, and again, and again, reveling in the feeling of breathing fire. True dragon flames. Things he had heard about in stories, never expecting to experience himself.
Blast.
The flames from Victor’s throat ceased. He felt a constricting in his stomach, his limbs, his mouth of fangs… he was shrinking. Rapidly, so fast he could barely see it.
He thrashed, not understanding what was happening to him. Then Victor screamed. It wasn’t the powerful, fearful scream of a dragon but rather a tiny weak squeal.
He fell through the sky like a stone and his wings melted away.
No. NO, NO, NOOO.
What was happening to him? What was happening to his powers?
He flailed in the air as the forest floor rushed towards him. Howling, he flapped and discovered he still had wings, they were just tiny. His descent slowed from his vigorous, tiny flaps and foliage whisked by him. A leaf slapped him in the face and it jerked his head back. That was not supposed to happen to a dragon.
Thump. Flapping his wings to guide himself, Victor managed a shaky landing on the leafy forest floor.
A shadow fell over him. Victor looked up at a furry brown creature. Geanw didn’t seem so tiny now.
“Yes, yes,” Gaenw smiled. “My little“- he emphasized the word little– “Dragon thought he would try to runaway with his new abilities, didn’t he. Did you forget that I was the one who made you a dragon in the first place?”
Gaenw flopped down on the forest floor and sighed. “I should have known you would do that if I made you a dragon. They always do. Get cocky with all the power, they do.”
“Change me back, now,” Victor sulked.
Gaenw scratched himself absentmindedly. “I guess our deal is still on?” he asked. “I change you back into a person, you promise to destroy other power-hungry humans?”
“If I was a dragon right now, I would eat you,” Victor snapped. “Fine. Keep me a bird. I’m not going to destroying my own family because a tiny piece of dandelion fluff in a forest told me to.”
Gaenw looked at Victor thoughtfully. “Not even if that piece of dandelion fluff turned you into an ant?” he asked softly.
Tagging @ethryndal to keep it going.
😛 😀
*Giarstanornarak tries to melt chair*
Also, Daeus has 22 turtles in his signature.Wow guys, the Freda story is almost making my skin crawl. Sheesh, weirdo puppies? That’s seriously scary. Some of the worst kinds of scary I’ve experienced—especially in dreams—are from things that would seem the most innocent. *shudder* It’s awful.
Good work, all you contributors. Keep scaring us out of our socks. @Kate-Flournoy, that was seriously creepy. I mean, the last sentence, obviously. 😮 And I LOVE the amount of characterization you managed to cram into that lil’ thing, esp. for Mr. Shelind.
@Kate-Flournoy And HOW, pray tell, do you expect me to pick up the pieces after THAT masterpiece of an epic??? Good grief, child, that was incredible.
Story #2, part nine
Mr. Shelind said nothing as he rose to tower above Freda, his eyes glowing with that unearthly orange. He took a step forward, his figure warping as fear spiked in Freda’s heart.
Then he was gone.
He didn’t disappear, for to disappear meant something had been there to begin with. Mr. Shelind — or the thing that had been Mr. Shelind — simply ceased. Ceased so thoroughly that his existence had never been there in the first place. And Freda was left in the shadowy nothing of a warped realm, staring at the glow of orange that had been his eyes. Its light was like a dying sun. Dripping. Dripping like rainwater from a gutter. It slid down the side of a nonexistent wall, pooling at Freda’s feet. Fingers curling into trembling fists, she hesitated. Then she looked down.
The light was alive.
Something writhed within, something so opposite of light that it was nearly blinding, her eyes incapable of processing what she saw. Darkness, in the light. Impossible. Yet it was there, jerking with the erratic violence of a seizure. Mesmerized, she leaned closer. The darkness was a shape, and within its shape, a thousand more twisted shapes. A set of lipless fangs, gnashing and spitting blood. A thorny vine that swayed like a serpent. A wild, raging boar with four tusks instead of two, their gleaming sides slick and crimson.
The square, pale face of Mr. Shellind.
His eyes were like char.
A soundless scream tore at Freda’s throat. She stumbled back, slipped on nothing and fell. Her arms flailed wildly as she crashed into the puddle of green liquid behind her. Fluid sprayed her face. The air rippled before her eyes, and for a moment, her parent’s terrified faces flashed before her vision. Then they were gone. The orange puddle was gone. The shelves of colorful liquid disappeared as neatly as if someone had flicked a light switch. Freda struggled to her feet, heart hammering a drumbeat in her ears. She stood suspended on nothing, with nothing above her and nothing around her. She was nothing. Then something began to move. She could feel it, not see it, the air rushing in her ears, slapping at her cheeks. She blinked, and when she opened her eyes, the world had changed again.
It was made of glass. Every surface, every inch. The very air around Freda was suddenly visible, each molecule a tiny crystal flake. She was in a doorless room, its four walls transparent. Beyond were more doorless rooms, and more, and more — a never-ending complex of glass cubicles, each identical, and each empty.
Freda turned, struggling not to slip on the smooth floor. It was dark here. So, so dark, yet she could somehow see, despite it. She could see every distinct line of the shadows that writhed in the corners, shadows that came from nothing, in a room without any light. They silently mocked her from afar, clutching their stomachs and faces as they chortled. Freda clamped a hand over her mouth, stifling a shriek. The crystal air began to swirl in a pattern, rushing together to form abstracts. Thoughts, ideas. Concepts.
The wavelength of a light wave is inversely proportional to its frequency…
The walls shivered. Vibration pulsed through the floor, and Freda fell to her knees, desperately grasping for something to hold onto as the room shook. With an explosion of glass, the walls shattered, the entire complex of cubicles crumbling inward. Freda screamed. Everything was falling, crumbling, smashing inward. The sound of breaking glass crashed in her ears.
N-dimensional motion can be completely described by n…
Reality warped like a curtain slowly wrinkling. The walls were suddenly back in place, not a crack marring their surface.
Dispersion is best quantified as the rate of change of index of refraction with wavelength…
The rooms shattered again. Freda slid forward as everything tipped on its head, now suspended upside down in a pile of crystal glass, attached to what had once been the floor but was now the ceiling. Light pulsed on and off, blinding her first by its brilliance, then by the utter black that followed.
On. Off. On. Off. Light. Dark. See. Don’t see.
“Freda?”
“Bessy?” Freda called to the darkness. “Bessy, is that you?”
“Freda, I can’t hear you.”
“Bessy!” she screamed, but her voice was snatched away, a crystalline echo in a world that suddenly ceased to hear her.
“Freda, don’t trust her! She’s not me! Can you hear, Freda? Are you there? She’s not me. She’s not me, Freda.”
“I hear you!” Freda tried to say. “But I don’t understand! Where are you? Bessy, where are you?”
The speed of light in a vacuum has the same value in all inertial reference frames regardless of the velocity of the observer or the velocity of the source…
Reality ripped. With a deafening crack, the world tore away.
Freda lifted her head. Her knees were skinned and bleeding. Her hands were balled into fists. She stumbled forward, tripping, falling to a rocky floor scattered with pebbles. She was in a cave.
“Look, Freda! See what I made!”
Her head whipped up, and there was Bessy. A wild, empty grin spread across the little girl’s face, and she lifted her arm. A stone puppy clung to it. His red glow reflected in the wide white of Bessy’s eyes.
Freda stumbled to her feet. This was not a dream — not any more. When the puppy attacked this time, there would be no waking up. But there was no confusion as to where she was, either. Before, when she had entered the dream realm, she had forgotten both herself and her purpose. Now? She knew with utter clarity where she was. She was in a nightmare. With a girl who looked like Bessy and sounded like Bessy, but wasn’t Bessy. And that puppy, with its softly glowing red eyes, was turning its stone face to look at her.
Freda whirled on her heals and fled.
***
*jazz hands* Woo woo. Tagging @Anne-of-Lothlorien to keep it going.
INTJ ➸Your friendly neighborhood mastermind. ➸https://thesarcasticelf.wordpress.com/
@ethryndal Oh my. But now I’m wondering…was it Freda who was in a dream all along? And it’s really Bessy that has to rescue her? Was she dreaming a “dream within a dream?”
"Sylvester - Sylvester!"
@ethryndal :O *mic drop*
*Giarstanornarak tries to melt chair*
Also, Daeus has 22 turtles in his signature.@ethryndal Wow. I’m speechless.
A Kapeefer for life!
Compendium of KP Literature: kapeeferliterature.wordpress.com@ethryndal What the heck?!?! How did you…how did you come up with that? This is now a story that I would be standing in the aisle of the bookstore reading because I couldn’t put it down when I started skimming it. Wow! Just Wow!
"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
@Ethryndal *blinks* My head…
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