Content Warning

Greetings and Salutations.
Because my stories have bite, they can contain content that isn't suitable for work or children. Not a lot of truly graphic sex or violence, but there are some questionable or heated posts. F-bombs are not uncommon, so watch your footing.

Wednesday, October 16, 2019

VSS round up

Kittens are great at this stage. They pounce on everything, practicing their killing moves, happy to simply be alive. Adorable with all the immature violence.
Really only dangerous if they get up on the altar and knock over the spell components.

"Got another rejection today."
"Submit a new one."
"Maybe you could give a little support? My feelings are hurt."
"I AM. I'm trying to tell you that you're only a failure if you give up. Get back on that horse and ride for all you're worth."
"Love you too."

Gaia has waited for the cycle to change, for the pendulum to swing back this way. Away from the singular, the static. Back to duality and balance. Two sides to every aspect, one only with the other.
It was time to remember her as Mother AND Killer.

Command watched in horror as the dragon learned that fighter planes could rarely pull out of a tailspin. It began to play with the jets, like a cat with a wounded mouse, knocking them about the sky with casual cruelty. Soon, they all knew. The war was lost.

Dragon lashed her tail, lounging in the rose garden. The moon turned every blue flower into midnight black, matching the color of her hair.
Elf watched her from a distance, too drunk to approach, but too in love to ever leave her.

"I can tell a lot about a person based on their treatment of animals."
"That easy?"
"It's not easy. It takes a lot of understanding and study."
"What do you think of me?"
"You think animals are just dumb creatures. You lack understanding of the mystical."

"What is this awful stickiness slowing my thoughts down?"
"I believe the mortals call it time."
"How disgusting."
"Quite. But they seem to have become used to it, even if they complain about never having enough of it."
"This is clearly hell."

"Did you see her baby?"
"Ha! I knew you'd think he was ugly too."
"I mean, seriously, that's why some mothers eat their young."
"Did you look at him that long?"
"Really couldn't. Those bug eyes were creepy."

She longed for months in which to estivate on palatial grounds. Heady scents of flowers, thick humidity clinging to her skin, young corvids learning from their parents.
But climate change had robbed her of all estival vestiges. She dwelled in perpetual spring.

I've never used the word lightly, but he is the most spellbinding person I have ever seen. Those eyes, his hair, the charisma, even the way he uses his words. I know I'll get burned if I get too close, but who wouldn't want to?

"You killed him?!" She stares, wide-eyed.
I frown, cleaning my blade. "Didn't you understand your inclusion into my family meant I would defend you like my own? He hurt you, needed to pay. Would you rather I simply wiped away your tears?"
She had no answer.

"Explain it to me."
"Not sure I can."
"It's beyond lust, and desire, and longing. It's something so incredibly deep in my soul, there is no denying it."
"Sounds romantic."
"Also torturous."

He sighed, swigging from the bottle. "My immortality has a curse. I heal fast, which keeps me alive and healthy, but it also increases my tolerance to alcohol, drugs, pain. Some nights, I just want to fall into a cloud of bliss and forget." He drinks again.

"You are too fastidious by far."
"How is that even possible?"
"You can't finish making a sandwich if your bread touches the counter."
"Do you know how many germs are there?!?"
"But YOU cleaned the counter."
"My point stands."

He looms, though we're nearly the same height. "I make no attempt to ensorcell you. I request that your help be freely given." His hunger washes over me, and I know what he wants.
I lift my hair from my neck and nod.

"Did you see the point on those talons?"
"'Twas impressive."
"And that beak! My knives aren't that sharp."
"Well, it does more work than your knife set."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just that a gryphon eats more meat than we do."

"Begone foul grass!"
"Do I want to know what you're up to?"
"In renn faire gear?"
"It's more exciting to pretend the weeds are infiltrators spying on my kingdom of flowers."
"And the grass?"
"Barbarians trying to break my stone barricade."

Everyone knew her identity as orc-slayer, avenger of the innocent, defender of the smallpeople. Her fitted armor was more known than her name, her blood-red hair easy to spot.
But no one knew of the bargain she'd made to become this fearsome warrior.

She wore what she wanted, said what she was thinking, did the things that made her happy. She was called bold, audacious, a total bitch, a female edgelord, and accused of doing it just for the attention.
She didn't listen, and continued just being herself.

Generations had passed their power to her, distilling that strength into her soul. She saw the world with twilight eyes, able to sort through the worthy and the demonic and the lost and the divine.
She gripped her sword; time to separate the wheat from the chaff.

"Wait. YOU have a pair of Levis?"
"They fit. They were there."
"I thought you didn't go for name brands."
"I don't. They were the half price color at Goodwill."
"Should have known they're secondhand."

She thought she was immune to the gaslighting since she could see through propaganda and programming.
But what if that was the trick? What if she was SUPPOSED to see through the smoke screen to the "truth" because no one else would ever believe her?

"If you really want to cleanse this location, you'll need a psychopomp to do the job. Nothing else will remove these spirits."
He smirks, summons sparks at his fingertips. "Fire is also quite powerful."

"Have you tried these new Rebel ice creams? They're so tasty."
"Not much of a-"
"And so low in carbs. Do you know how rare that is?"
"Not rea-"
"I mean, it's AMAZING. I don't even feel guilty about eating them."
"What about interrupting people?"

No matter how hard she resisted, he managed to confiscate her attention. She blushed as he approached, debonair and suave. His voice was rich velvet. "You've been running through my mind all day."
All attraction died with his lack of intelligence.

He came home covered in juice stains and fur full of tiny thorns. I laugh and brush him out, poking my fingers on some of the larger thorns. "How about, next time let me get the berries for you?"
Faerie dogs are too addicted to sweets for their own good.

"I deserve to be a famous writer."
"It's really not fair that I have to take time away from creating in order to reach out to readers to try and make them pick up my books."
"True. But life isn't about fair and deserve."
"Real life sucks."

The wound runs with blood. Not quite gushing, so I don't think they hit an artery. My vision is fading, though, and my hands are growing cold. Was it really a victory?

"It's too hard. I can't do it."
"Do you expect it to be easy?"
"Would be nice."
"Diamonds can only be formed under pressure."
"Ugh. So you won't help me rake the leaves?"

She traces runes in the air, casting, and I watch with large eyes. Silver rings glint with each motion, leaving faint vestiges of light where she summons magic to her. A single word sends power to fend off the monster.
I want to be like her one day.