Arcadia | Part 1

- Prompt 17 of 30 -

Being a "Larpie", as they called themselves, was a great gig. Fun people, fun costumes, good benefits. Until corporate went broke, the visitors stopped coming, and nobody ever bothered to tell the staff what was going on. Or come get them.

- Start -  

Arcadia - a marvel of human engineering. The first commercially viable application of Pocket Universes. Of course, when given the opportunity to play God, Humanity chose to make a theme park. 

"Live-in Immersive Fantasy Experience", as they called it. But we all knew that was just a fancy new word for theme park. There was some initial backlash against the technology - there always is. The existential dread caused by having to accept that we could now create whole new universes - albeit very small ones - was a hard pill to swallow. As is always the case, however, the masses couldn't help themselves and Arcadia was soon booming. 

The park itself was broken up into what they called "Instances." Each one a pocket universe, devoted to a specific genre or flavor of fantasy world. There were the Classics: Land of Magic, Cyber Punk Future, Gunslinger's Western. After those came the more niche: Crime Noir, Hack3rL4nd. Eventually, for a large sum of money you could even have a private Instance spun up just for your specific desire. This was a popular option for business lunches, birthday parties, and sometimes more deviant activities. The public was in love with this new attraction. Finally, the world you had always dreamt of living in was a reality. You could visit for a day, a week - hell even a year if you had the funds. 

If the public was in love, the employees were enthralled. Arcadia attracted the kind of folks who didn't have much a life in the "real" world. The kind who struggled to find work, the ones with ideas a little far ahead of the pack - or a brain stuck in a bygone era. All of these folks now had a place that would accept them. 

The risks were obvious, but unimportant. Yes, it might be dangerous to live permanently inside of a pocket universe, but you could also get hit by a bus. These people we finally happy, and they weren't going to let anyone take that from them. 

The "Larpies" - an older term from role-playing circles - assimilated into the worlds that they chose. They played up whatever genre they lived in, pulling out all of the stereotypes they grew up falling in love with. Even during closing hours, many would stay in character. Putting on the show for each other.

Central didn't seemed to mind. These outcasts were half the reason the draw to the park was so big, and as long as Monitoring kept reporting increasing profits who were they to stop the fun? They even made some of the performers Admins - giving them access to Root-level commands that could make changes to an Instance if needed. They called themselves "Wytches" after a few of them realized it sounded like they were casting spells when the accessed a Terminal.

That's not to say there wasn't some division between Central and the other Instances. Being a part of the largest commercial venture in the history of mankind was a very stressful job, coupled with all of the same risks as living in one of the fantasy worlds but without any of the delusion, lead to a lot of jealousy towards those who worked the "front-end". 

It certainly didn't help that the corporation that owned Arcadia insisted on referring to its employees by their position and ID number, and constantly described their workforce with terms like "Machines" and "Cogs". After some complaints, they did add "Intelligence Engines" but that felt more like a slap in the face more than anything else. 

Despite these problems, things at the park were good. Numbers were high, accidents were small and minimal - and moral within the workforce was high on average. 

And then they lost an Instance. One minute, filled with happy park-goers and employees. The next, gone. Worse yet, Central couldn't accurately say whether it had collapsed or they simply had lost the ability to access it. Imagine having to tell families that their loved ones might be trapped forever, maybe not even realizing it.

The public outcry was sharp and furious. Some wanted heads to roll, others wanted the park to shut down in its entirety. Arcadia attempted to recover, implementing a prototype "Smart" AI that would monitor for anomalies and fix them when they occurred, but that just fueled the anti-technology sentiment that was building. 

Corporate had a call to make. Go down with what was obviously a sinking ship, or pivot into a new industry. In all but a few weeks all presence of Arcadia was removed from public eye. After a few months, the outraged moved on to a new nefarious organization, and the tragedy of Arcadia was forgotten. 

It would have been great if someone told the employees. 

But now? a thousand years later? Not even they remembered, and they liked it that way.

- End -

Eddie Rizz | Part 2

- Prompt 16 of 30 - 

Eddie Rizz. King of the table. Fastest stick in southie, and in it up to his cue-balls with the Capo. Ya shouldn'ta oughtta made a bet so big, Rizzy, He chided himself. 'Specially not one you was gonna win. Time to run. 

- Start -  

In this place, creating a distraction was going to be a bit harder than Eddie was used to. Everything was made of glass or steel, and very securely bolted to the ground, so flipping a drink table was out of the question. Tripping a waiter had always served him well in the past, but that was much more difficult when all of the wait staff was hovering.

C'mon Rizz. He thought, hoping for some inspiration. He was far from home, and even further from confidence. He scanned the room, trying to find something he could use. A quick look back at the table revealed an angry Capo - or whatever you called them here - just moments away from calling some goons.

"Where'd you say your from again, friend?" That was the purple one talking - the one who had just lost a lot of his organizations money to an out-of-towner. He had four arms, which Eddie had thought would serve him better, and desperately hoped would perform just as well when it came time for a beat down.

"Elsewhyre - Planet 3, little backwater place." Eddie felt his foot hit something hard on the ground. Looking down he saw what looked like a plug-in, but much more, more really.

"Never heard of it."

"Not many people, have. Very remote. Lots of Pool tables." Eddie followed the cord with his eyes to the underside of the table. From there it spread out to all the others. Looked like it was what was making them all lit up and fancy.

"You look like you've got some place to go."

"Do I?" Eddie counted the goons in the room. Five, maybe? "Funny you mention that."

Eddie reached down and grabbed the end of the cord that was running into the socket and pulled, as hard as he could. The thing ripped from the floor in a spray of sparks, and every table went dark. He couldn't see a damn thing, and he hoped that none of them could either.

---

Ya never learn, do you? he scolded himself as he ran out the back of the parlor and into the alley. It was dark and industrial, with pipes and steam and crackling electricity to be found in abundance. A stark contrast to the bright neon and glass of the pedestrian areas that flanked him. From the sounds of the commotion back inside, most of the goons had taken his bait and were running out the front to go find him. That gave him at least a minute or two to come up with phase two of his getaway plan.

It wasn't his fault, really. Eddie had been doing a great job of layin' low - he stayed away from all criminal organizations, never took any jobs that weren't strictly on the up and up. Since his "relocation" he had made a real effort to make a good life for himself. He even started wearing ties.

And then he found out that this world had pool. What was he supposed to do but find out what kind of amazing advancements folks had made in this weird, future world? It took him a month or so to get a feel for the lighter cues - they were made from somethin' called "Nano-tubes" and were virtually indestructible. The rest was just bells and whistles - fancy clear balls on a rough glass table did nothin but make you feel special.

And what kind of luck that the first night he decided to try out some gamblin' that the poor schmuck he picked happened to be some sort of space-fairing crime boss with four arms and no skill? He hadn't even meant to con him, it just sorta ended up that way. So maybe a little his fault then. A learning experience.

If he made it out alive.

It would be best if you did.

There was also that. Apparently, once you've had a run in with The Wall you'll never be rid of it. At least it had gotten less soul shaking-ly loud.

We've been working on it. 

They'd both experienced some character growth. The sounds of more-clever-than-average thugs getting closer told Eddie that he needed to think, and think fast.  

Enough time wasting, He thought, wasting precious processing time Where do I go?

To the left and right risked running into the goons, and going through one of these alley doors risked getting the cops - or whatever equivalent this world had for law enforcement - called. Worse if whoever he startled chose fight instead of flight. 

That left either up or down. Though he rather enjoyed a nice view, it wouldn't really get him anywhere.

Down it is, then. This world has some of the best waste management systems I've ever seen. 

I'll be sure to take the scenic route, Eddie thought back to it, as he unlocked the pressurized hatch to the sewers. 

---

The Wall hadn't been lying. It was downright clean in here. Eddie adopted a leisurely pace. He had shut the hatch behind him, and was fairly certain the goons hadn't figured out his ruse quite yet. As it stood this might be his best getaway yet. He made his way down the service walkways, his boots making a soft clang on the grated metal that was suspended above the enormous pipes that snaked below for what seemed like miles. 

One mile below is the district that Fez was from.

Eddie laughed. A fitting name then. "You seem quite sentimental tonight," He replied. Sometimes it was easier when he felt like he was actually talking to someone. 

Yes. 

'Good talk." At least he tried. 

Eddie focused his attention back on the task at hand: Where the hell was he going to go? He didn't have many contacts in this city, and he didn't know how far the offended goon's power reached. He showed off like a Capo might, but didn't have the aura. Probably someone in middle management with lots of ambition. Which meant it might all blow over, or follow Eddie like the plague. 

There are twelve other planets in this Instance.

That was an idea, but Eddie didn't think he was quite ready for spaceflight. All of this future stuff was a bit much to take in all at once. 

"What about Garbage Town?" Eddie asked, feeling a light bulb switch on in what was usually a very dark brain. "There much crime there?" 

Most criminals have more dignity than to be caught seen in Garbage Town.

"Sounds like a perfect place for me then." Convenient too - he'd been meaning to make his way there at some point. One last favor to do for Fez. It wasn't too hard for Eddie to find the ladder to lower levels - the place was truly a feat of engineering, at least as far as sewers went. A mile of climbing didn't sound like the best experience ever, though. 

Second best getaway, then. He chuckled as he started the descent. 

---

Are you sure about this? 

"Yes." Eddie answered. standing in front of the door he believed to be Fez's old haunt. It had taken the greasing of a few palms to get the info, (guy would make a good Capo, if you asked Rizz.) but all signs pointed to here. And one particularly gnarly looking rat person. He was still gettin' used to that - the aliens and mutants. You don't just acclimate to rats the size of you walking around so easy, ya know? 

He knocked. The door opened a crack, the chain-lock pulled taut. Eddie saw the face of an old lady-rat peek out. 

"We don't want any." 

"Don't want yet business anyway." He replied out of habit. Eddie hoped that slum slang was as universal as hustling pool. 

The door closed, and he heard the familiar sound of the chain sliding from the lock. The door opened again, this time all the way. The lady who opened leaned a hand on her hip. As unsettling as her appearance was, Rizz felt a twang of relief - like he was back home. Only with flying cars and rat-people. 

"You gonna spend all day with your gab open or?" 

"Oh! yes, sorry mam." The familiar sound of criticism broke Eddie's trance "I'm not from around here, but I do know your boy Fez." 

"That no-good un-grateful slob!" The woman yelled, throwing her hands up. "Ups and goes without a word to his mother, and then sends some schmuck to come tell me!?" 

"He wanted me to give you this." Eddie replied, reaching into his jacket. Fez had almost forgot, running back through the wall to give it to him. He pulled out a slip of plastic, about the size of a movie ticket, and handed it to her. "Said it was fer doin such a good job raisin' him." 

"He said what?" The den-mother immediately stopped her tirade, replacing it with tears. "That scamp. Always knew how to get out of trouble." 

"Still does, mam." Eddie gave a smile. "Only reason I'm here is cause of that skill of his."
 

"So nice of you to come all this way." She reached out and grabbed the slip from him, examining it in the light. "He didn't." 

"What is it?" Eddie hadn't been able to figure out the writing on it. 

"Its an all-paid trip to Paradis," The light in her eyes could make you forget the buck teeth. "You know the planet? the one with only beaches?" 

"Never been there, myself." 

"Oh, I've heard such great things." She hugged the ticket close to her chest. "I can't believe that boy. What'd you say your name was?" 

"Eddie, mam." Eddie reached out his hand to shake. "Eddie Rizzetti." 

"Eddie! what a fun, weird name!" The woman responded by pulling him into a hug.   

"Any friend of my boy Fez is always welcome in my house." She started to move inside the house, still connected to Eddie's hand. "You must be hungry. Tell me what that bastard's been up to. You know he never calls?" 

Eddie laughed as he followed this strange woman into an even stranger house, that sat in the strangest slum he had ever seen. On a different Planet - a whole different Dimension. 

And yet, this was starting to feel exactly like home. 

- End -

 

Tsiann the Quick | Part 4

- Prompt 15 of 30 -

No. The answer was no. The blue crystal, the one Tsiann had risked so much for, wasn't powerful enough after all, and now her poor Mam was sure to die.

- Start -  

"I'm not going to die, child." Her Mam told her as the Mage chuckled in the background. "What ever gave you that idea?" 

Her mother was in bed, where she always was. Tsiann could remember a time where they would go into town, but it had been so long ago now that the memories were becoming cloudy and piecemeal. The Mage - he had said to call him Virgo, which she had giggled at - had taken her back home. "Escorted" was the word he used. Tsiann was starting to wonder if he just liked using big words for simple stuff.

Even though she had thanked him for helping her get the Opal he insisted on helping her get back home. She knew the way, she had told him. She didn't need any help with her Mam, she had said. No, he couldn't have the stone (He called it a crystal, and he called it blue. Was he blind?) and no he couldn't know why she needed it.

And then her Mam had made her tell. It was all very confusing. She had to hide all the time and lie about everything, but her Mam trusted the Mage? Wasn't he the one we were trying to hide from? Adults never made any sense.

So she told the whole story, of how she had found the Opal. She told them of what the inside of the wall was like, and of the choir that had been singing to her. She told them how she still heard their voices, and wanted to go back. The more she told them, the more concerned the Mage's face looked, and the bigger the smile was on Mam's.

Tsiann told them how powerful the Opal was, and how it might make Mam better, but the Mage had said that it wouldn't work like that, and Mam had agreed.

"You always told me that if you lost your Magic you'd die, and you've been in bed so long your Magic has to be gone which means you are going to die soon so I've been looking for Magic for a really long time  and now you can't have any and so what else would I think was going to happen and-"

Words just kept coming out of Tsiann's mouth and tears started to follow. She felt her Mam's hand rest on the top of her head as her other wrapped around her back. Tsiann felt her mother pull her in close. She must have gotten up at some point...

Through a river of tears and snot a smile appeared on Tsiann's face. "Ma, wait!"

"Repose"

Tsiann was immediately washed over with a sense of calm. Her mind slowed, to one, single, thought at a time. Her entire body went loose, and she embraced the arms of her mother.

"Noooo.." She lulled.

"Yes, child." Her mother replied, voice as comforting as a thousand blankets. "You are too quick, you must slow down and see all that is around you."

Her mother laid Tsiann down in the large reading chair next to the window, and returned to her bed. She meandered her way into comfortableness, and then addressed the Mage. "I believe that Virgo might have some insight here. Please listen to him."

Tsiann threw her legs over one of the arm's of the chair, resting her head on the other. "Yes Ma."

Her mother threw her a look.

"Mother." Tsiann looked at the at the Mage. "Yes?"

"Well, young lady." The man was so proper, Tsiann almost laughed. "I am sure you are familiar with the Twelve Mages, and with me, the 6th. I am called Virgo, though that is more of a title than a name. Each of the Twelve has a specific role, and mine is in researching and finding stones just like the one you found. We call them Stones of Power, and they are the source of our Magic. The Twelve believe that they are the only sources of magic in this world."

"That's not true." Tsiann piped in.

"Yes," The Mage responded, a smirk appearing through his dark stubble. "Though sometimes it is more convenient to believe in something false."

"You see, Tsiann." He continued. "I met your mother years ago, almost a hundred now. When I first found this area. It was the source of many of these stones, and the other Mages sent me out here to gather them up and find out why. It was she that taught me the truth of this world - that we Mages stole the magic that we wield. Stole it from those like your mother, and yourself for that matter. The first Twelve stole Magic from the Wytches."

Tsiann looked at her mother, and her mother nodded back to the mage. "You guys are a hundred years old!?"

Her mother laughed, and the Mage looked confused. "I thought you'd be more interested in the Wytch part."

That got another rise out of her Mam. "Virgo, you dolt - I've never hid it from her. What kind of Wytch would I be if I hid Magic from my daughter. I just didn't tell her you knew as well - figured that would make it harder for her to keep quiet."

"Oh." All of the authority the Mage had wielded moments before had taken its leave. "So she doesn't know of our arrangement..."

Tsiann stood up from the chair - the effects of her mother's spell having worn off. "Wait. Are you my Dad!?"

Her mam laughed for a solid five minutes. Virgo was as red as a tomato the entire time. Tsiann simply waited in confusion.

"No, No, definitely not, little one." Her mother wiped a tear from her eye. "Though for what we are planning it might have been a good plan. No - your father was a traveling poet. I'm happy to tell you about him sometime."

"Huh." Tsiann replied. She had never given it much thought - her Mam had always been enough. She sat back down on the chair, processing all this new information as best as her 9* year old mind could.

The Mage cleared his throat. "To continue - The arrangement between your mother and I was this: As a Wytch, she would create new Stones of Power - and I would collect them to be used by the Mages."

"What?!" Tsiann stood up again, and turned to her mother. "Is that the reason you are always in bed? You are giving them Magic? Why would you do that if they stole it from us in the first place?!"

"Because of what I get out of it, Tsiann the Quick." Her mother had a smile. The kind she only got when she knew she was right. Tsiann hated it.

"And what is that?"

"In return, I would train her eventual daughter to be my successor."

Tsiann looked at both of them, with as much confused anger a 9 year old could muster.

"It would have to be in secret. To the rest of the town you would simply be my assistant - but you would receive the kind of training a Wytch of your stature deserves. And eventually, you might even be able to take back Magic itself from the rest of the Twelve."

Tsiann sat back down. This time on the floor. It was too much for her brain to process. "Would I have to live with you? Leave my Mam?"

It was her mother who answered. "Of course not! This isn't some silly fairy tale. You'd stay here with me, and I would help fix all of the bad habits he's inevitably going to give you."

Tsiann found herself wrapped in her mother's embrace for the second time today. "Even better, you could start helping me creating those Opals - which means I'd have enough energy to get out of that damn bed."

"Deal."

Her mom leaned back, holding Tsiann at arm's length. "Really? I thought you'd be much more stubborn."

"If it means you'll be well again," She gestured at the Mage with her thumb. "I'd clean his tower top to bottom for 6 months straight."

- End -

 
* Author's note: I have Retconned Tsiann's age to be 9 from Part 3.

Kavon's Crew | Part 1

- Prompt 14 of 30 -

"Kavon, we need to start planning your birthday party." "Ooh! Can we port to Playnet again? That was fun?" "Sure, honey. If that's what you want." "Only I want to try Bollyworld this time." Kavon smiled, remebering the map. Bollyworld was adjacent to Carnalnation. All he had to do was figure out how to get himself and his friends past the Wall.

- Start - 

His mom would provide the Transfer Pass. That would be easy - she was in the middle of one of her "moods" with his dad, which meant that as far as his birthday was concerned his wish was her command. His friends would get theirs as well - what kind of parent would hold their kid back from such a great experience. 

The Transfer Passes would temporarily give them a proxy host inside of the specified Server they had chosen. His mom usually got him the 5 hour package, which was more than enough time to do what he wanted. 

You see, despite its near constant feeling of contentment and familiarity, GreenAcres was a particularly shitty Server. It was full of folks just like his mom and dad - boring. Everybody drove the same car, lived in the same box that they called a house. Worked for some faceless entity that they were honestly more interested in than the rest of their life, included but not limited to their spouses or even their own children.

Kavon's only respite from this monotony had been the Network, and the friends he had spent whole nights talking to on chat. It seemed like only those on the Net really understood just how messed up the rest of the Servers were. They would talk, and argue - sometimes lament - about the things that they saw. The monotony, the conformity - Kavon felt connected to these people, more so than any he knew in person. (fleshies, as the Net called them.) 

It was through this small group of friends he had formed that the subject of CarnalNation first came up. Someone had casually mentioned it perhaps, or posted some copypasta on one of the "myth" boards. 

CarnalNation was paradise. At least, as close as you could get in a subjective world. The only Server of the 12 that was based on the concepts of Anarchy and self-regulation. It was said that the Net itself was hosted through Carnal (As they called it). You could live however you pleased, as long as you didn't negatively affect those around you. Kavon remembered reading ancient manuscripts about a man named Roark that lived a similar way. He hoped to find a statue of the man when he finally made it to the Server. 

There was only one problem - Access to CarnalNation had been closed for as long as Kavon could remember. You couldn't just get a Transfer Pass, and they wouldn't just let anyone in. If you wanted in, you had to find your own way. That was the spirit of CN, otherwise they would be just another of the 11 Servers, lying to themselves about "Security" and "Organization."

And boy, did CN make it hard to break in. The internal barriers were night but impassable. Any unauthorized personnel would be immediately vaporized as they reached the top. He had watched someone try to bypass the defenses when he was little, and the image still stuck with him. In one moment a man frantically pulling at wires, the next: dust. 

It had taken years to notice, and it wasn't even Kavon who had, but eventually they found a fatal flaw in the system: The Wall. 

Now, some might say that trying to get past The Wall would be an incredibly stupid thing to do, there were equally valid Net Boards that said otherwise - some even insinuating the governments of all 12 Servers to be colluding, and withholding information to the public. 

It turned out, all you needed to do to open The Wall was de-stabilize some quantum batteries and rig them to a Resonating Circuit. The chaotic reaction would loosen The Walls dimensional structure, and you'd be safe to cross through. 

That was the theory anyway - Kavon had lifted the process out of an old copy of Neo-Cracked's 15.5 lifehacks you can do with your old Quantum Batteries. The manuscript was difficult to parse, but one of the group had studied Ancient Net Speak, and was able to figure out the step-by-step and nursery. 

It took them 3 years, but eventually they were able to gather enough materials to make two full devices. It was now, on his 16 birthday, that Kavon would get to experience what life truly could be like when you weren't surrounded by social lemmings. 

The day was finally here. Kavon closed out all of his tabs, and went to sleep. 

----

"Do we really think it's going to work?" Kavon heard mOrLoCk ask, as they watched the techie set up the improv portal device. 

"If my calculations are correct, the chance of this going in a lethaly wrong direction are 0.0003%" The techie, known on the Net as SCOTTY, replied. "This is well beyond the need for even speculation on what could go wrong, but no, be my guest. Tell me how to do my job.:

"Stop bickering, you two." Kavon piped in. "Either it works or we die."

"You really know how to put a man at ease, don't you, Kavon." 

"I do my best." 

"I personally agree with the sentiment." 

The device was put in place, and the preparations were made. Everything was checked and surface tested, and then tested again. 

"I believe, no, I am confident," SCOTTY stuck his head from outside the wires. "That we have got everything squared aw-"

The teenager was interrupted by the wall suddenly starting to split. 

"WHAT?!" was mOrLoCk's yelp "Why did you start it." 

As the tear ripped even longer and larger, the boys continued to arguer. 

"I d-din't!" SCOTTY had shot back as soon as the seam appeared, avoiding it as if were the boogeyman. "I swear! This is not me! I can say that it is fantastical, though!"

"Give me the trigger!" Kavon shouted, receiving the re-purposed car key trigger in his hand. "I'll take care of this."

He moved forward as soon as the words left his lips, and almost immediately stopped. 

The Wall had opened at this point, and standing in the very center of the gap was a woman, skin pale and stark white. She had the darkest of black hair, and wore a gray, skin-tight jumpsuit. Not far behind the woman was a Man, of similar build, and look to the woman, but who's demeanor was more like the three boys than of an alien invader, which these folks most certainly had to be. 

"Do you come in peace?" SCOTTY asked, perhaps in desperation. "You have to tell us, ya know.." 

HAS LEGION ARRIVED? 

The creatures voices sounded like factories trying to speak coherent words. Kavon could understand them, but if there was nuance - He wasn't picking up on any. 

"We do not know of this Legion you speak of, but we do have many questions of our own."

Kavon watched the woman process the words he had spoken, and then she glanced at the device they had built, and then at the trigger. She moved with impressive speed, and in a moment had snatched the trigger from Kavon's hand. The other pushed the boys further way from The Wall, but Kavon watched as the woman activated the trigger. 

After a flash of light and quite possibly the loudest CLAP Kavon had ever heard he once again saw the woman standing. Now, instead of being in front a massive hole in the fabric of time and space, She was standing in front of a seam  - one that had been seemingly welded back together by the reaction caused by their device.

It was mOrLock who spoke first. "Someone tell me what the hell just happened!"

The man looked at the teenager and said: 

"THEY WILL FIND ANOTHER WAY SOON. THERE IS NO TIME TO EXPLAIN. YOUR TOY WAS VERY HELPFUL." 

SCOTTY had to be held back as he yelled in response. "Our toy! you mother fu-" 

Another explosion, but this time from inside the CarnalNation Server. 

"AS SAID EARLIER. NO TIME. ONLY RUN." 

- End - 

Percival Adams | Part 1

- Prompt 13 of 30 -

Six days he'd been hiding out in this hell-forsaken desert, living off cactuses for moisture. He'd poked a dozen of them today, but now all they gave was a thick, red oil. All that was left was to choose: die out here, or go back to Mulewater.

- Start - 

So death either way, then. Percival Adams wished for a third option that he knew would never come to him. At least he got to choose the manner of his demise. Most didn't even get that option.

If he stayed, he would surely starve - if Legion didn't get him first. He hadn't seen one of those shambling half-humans in a day or so, but they were sure to show up eventually - that was their very purpose, wasn't it? Tenacity?

Hadn't that been the reason Adams had led them here in the first place? He had let their whispers twist his thoughts - when he was so weak from the booze that he couldn't even remember his own name - he listened to their deceptions, their vile machinations. He told himself the town deserved it, that this whole forsaken world deserved to burn. If they were now destined to consume him, he would accept that fate.

But facing the Sheriff, and that kid? What was his name? Roy? He couldn't. Not after he had left them to die - tricked them just as those mindless bastards had done to him. No, that would be insanity. They might have survived all this, and if they had - He wouldn't put it past them to be on his trail. Those two were a determined pair, and making their vengeance easier was not something that Adams wanted to do.

Better to be erased than to face those two like a man.

So Adams walked. Away from the town he had grown up in. Away from the now long dead father who'd get a little too much drink in him and beat Adams within an inch of death. Away from the dozens of bottles that no doubt littered the floor of his house. Like father, like Son. He thought. He'd inherited the same demons that haunted his father, plus a couple more.

He walked deeper into the Wastes, closer to the center of this world. They said that a great worm made its lair at the very heart of this world, and you'd be devoured the instant you crossed into it's territory. Adams wondered if he'd make it long enough to find out.

One could usually last three days without water, but did that take in account alcohol withdrawal coupled with skin melting heat? Adams figured he had about a day and a half left, if that.

It wasn't like he knew they were real...

What would you think if you, the town drunk, started hearing voices in your head? Weird ones too, didn't even sound like humans at first - only when you listened real close. Adams bet you'd do exactly as he did: write them off as the hallucinations of a liquor soaked brain.

They told him everything he needed to hear. The town was to blame. Why hadn't they stopped his Pa? Why didn't they just cut him off? What did they expect to happen, if no one would hire him?

He just wanted them to see him as a person.

Of course, the instant they did - he betrayed them. Left them to die after letting a monstrosity into this world. The only two people to ever seem like they gave two shits, and he had stabbed them in the back. Literally in one of their cases.

He hadn't understood that this Legion, this being from beyond the Wall, had been playing him since the start. He was just as much a pawn as anyone else.

And so Adams walked. Eventually the day turned to night. He didn't change pace, or make camp. What use does a dead man have for rest? He walked all through the night.

It was as the first rays of sun broke over the horizon that he saw another figure. Cast in black by the backdrop of rising sun, They were walking towards Adams, at about the same pace.

Was this it? Was this Legion, jumping on their chance to assimilate him? Or was it Buck, or maybe Ray. That was his name! Either one of them would be enough to put Adams down. But how could they have gotten ahead of him? This figure had to have been coming from the center of the Wastes, and he doubted that even those two could've survived such a journey.

The figure crept ever closer. Adams refused to speed up his gait, half out of fear and half because he didn't have the energy. The person, who was now clearly a woman, seemed to not be in any sort of rush as well. They two meandered, neither acknowledging the other's presence.

After a bit, Adams could see his approach-er better. She wore a cloak of deep green, which seemed an oasis in contrast to the white of the dried up plains they walked on. Bright and curly red hair spilled out from every side of the cloak's hood - somewhat obscuring her face.

Eventually she was so close to him that he could almost reach out and touch her. The need to break the silence eventually broke through his better senses, and Adams spoke. "It's too dangerous for you to just be out on a stroll, so do what ya came here t' do."

The woman stopped just as she was about to pass by. Graceful fingers reached up and laid her hood back - the red hair no longer held back seemed to grow exponentially - and moved in the slight breeze as though it were alive itself.

She knelt down and picked up some sand. Adams braced himself as she spoke. "As you wish,"

Adams couldn't help but look down at her hand, and watched as the sand started to float and swirl just above it.

"Emery"

----

Adams found it difficult to describe the pain he was experiencing. Having sand tear through you, removing everything it touched in atom-sized pieces was something that not many had put words to. From a tiny dusting the Wytch had conjured a sandstorm - it surrounded the both of them, but left her unfazed.

He was on his knees at this point, unable to hold himself up any longer. There couldn't have been much of him left - yet there no signs of the storm fading. The worst was that there was no blood, in fact there was nothing much he could attach to except the pain. He imagined that was the point.

She spoke:

For your sins against us, 

For your sins against your own kin.  

For your foolishness, short-sighted and self actions.  

You will be removed from this world, particle by particle. 

You will watch yourself disappear, until your last atom becomes wind. 

Hours later, the storm had abated, and neither the Wytch nor Adams remained. All that was left was the dry, cracked earth.

And a thin layer of dust.

- End -   

Taurus the Magister | Part 1

- Prompt 12 of 30 -

The Magister stormed in, slamming his door behind him. Rage and unaccustomed humility coursed through him. Never, not once in all his years, had the magic failed him. And why? He checked his staff for perhaps the hundredth time - yes, the crystal still glowed. So why? What had changed? And why did that question terrify him so much? 

- Start - 

It was true. Taurus, Second Mage of the Twelve, Magister of the College - Weaver of Emotion, who could both calm a riot or cause one with the crystal embedded in his staff, was terrified.

He threw his staff away from him. In its fall the raw branch of oak crashed into his research table, throwing papers all about and sending many vials and bottles filled with strange liquids tumbling to the floor. The shattering of glass added to the cacophony of anger that was slowly filling the room.

He couldn't even bare to look at his former source of power. Without it he was weak, not a mage, not even a scholar. Barely a man. A castrated bull, more like. He left it lying where it fell, and walked to the window of his Study.

As he stared out onto the quiet town below the College, he tried to make any sense of the last hour. It wouldn't be easy.

He had been performing a lecture, for the 6th Years. There were some promising students in that bunch - he could see the ambition burning in their eyes. He remembered thinking about how even still, most would never make it beyond the level of Magician's Assistant. A high honor, for most families, but no - there were a few who wanted even more: to become one of the Twelve.

He remembered catching the eye of one particular go-getter, who had taken very easily to the subject of the lecture: Advanced Calculations - the very building blocks of Magic. Infinitely abstract and almost impossible to hold in your head - even more difficult to Master, but a requirement for anyone to even consider becoming a Mage's Pupil.

The boy had fiery, red hair - not unlike Taurus in his youth. Red hair, blue eyes - the build of someone who had spent their life with their head in books. It was as though Taurus was looking into the past, at his old self - playing to the ego of his Mentor, always asking questions. Never wavering in the burning need to hold more power...

And then he remembered the feeling of that power fading away.

It wasn't instant, but the effect on both the Mage and his students was. It fell over them like a wave. Some cried out in fear - all the comfort and energy that filled the room was sucked out of it, and from themselves as well. Panic crept into the Mage's face - it felt as though something, or someone, had just devoured the emotions of everyone in the lecture hall. For only a moment, they all experienced true emptiness. Pure, unadulterated apathy. If they hadn't had some training in magic, the existential shock might have killed them.

The students looked to the Mage, to help, to explain - to write it off as a demonstration of his overwhelming Power.

What they saw was uncertainty, fear, and weakness.

He had ran from the lecture hall, from their looks of disgust, of instant hatred of a Man who could be robbed of his Power so easily. he couldn't bear it. He was no longer their Mage, both in his eyes and theirs.

He turned from the window and looked back at his crystal. It still held its glow, but was it dimmer? Or were his eyes playing tricks on him, trying to make sense of something that had none.

Why? He thought. Without the ability to feel the Magic, all he had to go on were his mundane senses - and they all showed that nothing was amiss. Was this somehow related to Virgo's death? His magic hadn't yet been recovered, but Gemini always took their time.

There was a knock on the door.

"What?!" The venom thrown from the Magister's reply could have eroded metal, and would have, if were still a Mage.

"l-l-l-letter for you, s-s-sir?" It was one of the assistant's. Most likely one of the younger ones - they always got the trivial tasks. "C-came by raven, from G-g-gemini, your Arcane."

Why would Gemini send by raven? Why not send it by Magic? Unless...

"Bring it here, boy!" Taurus demanded. The assistant - couldn't have been more than 10 - moved with a haste only known by those people running from a bull. He rushed the letter into the Magister's hand and was gone only a moment later, though you could here the pitter-patter of feet down the stone steps.

What a novel way to communicate. Taurus thought as he examined the letter. It was small - rolled tight so as to fit around the ankle of a bird. He slipped off the red ribbon that was holding its form, and unfurled the parchment. After some fumbling with a candle and some matches he was able to read it:

Taurus, 

It is with both sincerity and urgency that We write you. We arrived in the Sixth Kingdom not five days ago, and quickly made our way to Virgo's tower. Did you know he allowed a town to be founded around it? In absolute disregard of his assignment?  

Oh, if that had been his only offense. 

More has happened in these last five days than We had ever hoped to experience in the rest of our long lifetimes. Though We wish we might one day get to tell you - by the time you are reading this we will most likely be dead. In that regard, We will have to summarize. 

On the first day We found her. She reeked of sulfur and heresy. She knew we were coming.  

On the second day We lost our Magic. 

On the third day she began her hunt. 

On the fourth day We lost our twin.  

and on this day We watch her consume him, crystal and all.  

We got away, but she knows us now. She has our Magic. Stole it. She says she will find Virgo, and bring him back. She uses his Magic, too. There is so much We don't know. We fear she is coming for us all.  We fear she will succeed. 

Taurus' hands were shaking. His brain attempted to process the words, but found itself unable. The Master of Emotion was held hostage by his own. His body stood frozen, filled with questions. Was Gemini truly dead? Who was this woman, this creature They spoke of? What did They mean, consumed him?

"They meant I ate Their brother." A woman's voice spoke from behind him. He felt a fist press into his ribs. "and then I finished my meal."

"WYTCH" Even without his Magic, Taurus still knew the words.

"Yes"

He heard the woman speak the word, closer to him now. The room filled with the smell of sulfur. The candlelight seemed to dim, and changed color. A deep, purplish black. His ribs felt warm, and wet. He could feel her breath on the back of his neck, it was bated.

"Why?" He asked, voice trembling - knowing the answer but needing to ask. "Why me?"

The woman cackled, just as they did in the stories.

"I'm still hungry."

- End -   

Eddie Rizz | Part 1

- Prompt 11 of 30 -

"Stand him up, boys," The Capo said, his voice tight and clipped. Two goons slammed Eddie Rizz against the Wall, with its surface pocked with countless acts of Capo's vengeance and those of his fore bearers. Rizzy Barely felt the slug that still burned somewhere deep inside his hip. The goons retreated to join their fellows in a crescent-moon, pointing their tommies' single dark eyes straight at him. "Ready, boys?" The Capo asked, then paused. A high, metal shriek rose up around them. Rizzy was the first to understand, as he felt the rust-stained Wall behind him descending into the ground. 

- start -

The gang of thugs stood frozen for a moment, as their killing wall slowly lowered. Blood seeped from the seams as it moved. Old and thick - more akin to mud than water. It seeped around Rizzy's shoes. He felt the day-old lobster he had for lunch rise up from his stomach.

Today was not a good day.

"This some sort of trick, Rizzy?" The Capo shouted, the first of the mob to regain composure. Who could blame them, though? The Wall, or at least a part of it, was moving. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Do you think I really have this kinda power, Capo?" Rizzy pleaded. Hands still in the air. Why stop cowering now? Whatever was happening wouldn't be good.

"You're right." The Capo chuckled. "Boys, close your gabs and kill this no good chump."

Really not a good day.

The world seemed to slow as Eddie watched the goons ready their weapons again, and prepared themselves to fire. Even slower as they pulled the triggers, almost in unison. Eddie saw the barrel of each erupt in flame, and again, and again. Each flash of light slowed time even further. Empty shells rocketed out of the sides of the Tommy guns, smoke billowing in the low light of the alley.

Little dots made their way towards him, it felt like hours waiting. It was honestly somewhat boring, if you asked him. Wasn't he supposed to see his life flash before his eyes? Maybe visited by the ghosts of past, present, and future? He didn't know the specifics, but death was supposed to be more exciting than this.

Was this some sort of punishment? You only got the good stuff if you actually accomplished something in your life? Maybe that was it, because Eddie had done jack. No, his brother got all the good genes. All that was left for ol' Rizzy was a quick tongue that wasn't quick enough and a penchant for gambling that would eventually lead him right here.

Time had stopped completely at this point, but it took another few minutes of self-loathing for Rizzy to even notice the bullets were no longer advancing towards him.

"I swear," He said. Throwing his hands like a child in a tantrum. "I don't know what you want from me, God. But at this point I'll die of boredom before these damn bullets get here."

Rizzy wasn't sure which God he was talking to, but he'd take any one that would listen.

The Wall completed its descent with a bang that could shatter eardrums - that shook the ground so hard he almost fell to his feet.

And then a god answered.

No more Killing.

Eddie Rizz did not hear this voice. He felt it. Deep, in his atoms, hell - he felt it in whatever it was that made atoms. To say that the voice knocked him to the ground would be an understatement. It would be better to say that the voice masterfully orchestrated a series of events, starting with his birth, and ending with him now flat on his ass.

 "Th-That is really good to hear, all things considered." Rizzy turned to face the..void...that he presumed was the source of this voice. It was, completely empty. More than, you might say. It wasn't even black - it was the true absence of color.

It wasn't the most uplifting scene, but at least his day was looking up.

"What should I call you? Master? God?" He asked, doing his best impression of a subservient bow.

None of these things. There is no Word. 

"Oh." Rizzy's bow became a scratching of the head. "Why me?"

Right Place. Right Time.

"I'll take that." Rizzy would have accepted a quick death only moments ago. He turned and gestured down the alley. "What about these fel-"

They were gone. Though that wasn't the right word. They were currently in the processes of becoming "gone." Dissolving, might be a better word. Into some sort of black dust. Everything, The goons, their guns. All the casings and all the bullets that had been flying towards him. All dust the color of nothing. It was moving towards him, like a floating river made of sand. He turned, following the path of the black dust as he did. It poured into the opening where the Wall had been.

"Ah." Rizzy had answer enough.

"You get used to it over time." Rizzy heard another voice. This one was much less, impactful. In fact, it almost sounded like himself.

And then a man stepped out from the other side of Wall.

"Who the hell are you?!" Rizzy yelled, half in surprise. What was one more weird thing on top of this. Still, whoever this man was, he wasn't from Southie. No one in the 6th Borough would be caught dead dressed like that.

"The name's Fez! Or at least it used to be. I thinking somethin' different here. More...smooth. Cool sounding." The man walked closer, and Rizzy moved further away.

There was something different, about...Fez. He didn't sit right. It wasn't just the outfit - Though the bright neon patchwork of colors didn't help.

"Where are you from?" Rizzy asked.

"Planet 6, Garbage Town. Worst place in all the Twelve Planets." Fez answered.

"Sounds like Southie." Rizzy added. At least they talked like each other.

"Is that what you call this place?" The man called Fez wandered around the alley, a wonder in his eyes, as though this were his first time seeing something like it. "It's so small."

"Southie is a lot more than just this alley," Rizzy shot back in defense. "But admittedly, it is a lot like this. Why are you here?"

Relocation.

It took a few moments for Rizzy to compose himself. "What does that mean?"

Fez shrugged. "I think it means that I live here now, and that you have to go."

"Bullshit." Rizzy flared up in anger. "I have to go in there?"

"Seems so."

"And I have no choice?"

"Well, its better than dying right?" Fez smiled. "The Wall here was going to wait until you died, and then have me step in."

This is true. 

Rizzy almost felt as though the Wall had said that with a smirk.

"But you see, I can't stand death. I hate it. I made it agree to relocate you just like it did me." Fez had meandered his way further down the alley, and had now put himself between Rizzy and the Wall.

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel better," Rizzy could tell when he was between a rock and a hard place. "But it beats dying. What do I have to do."

"Just walk past the Wall. Yours is different than mine but that should do the trick."

"Wait!" Rizzy threw up his hand. "What about my girl? and my brother? What are they going to think."

"Most likely, they'll forget you - at least mostly. I don't know a lot about this stuff, though."

That's probably for the best. Alfie hadn't talked to him since he got mixed up in this Mob stuff, and his girl could do a lot better. "I suppose that's for the best then."

"That was easier than I thought it would be, if I'm being honest with you." Fez gave that smile again. "If you are at a loss for where to go, my old haunt would love a guy like you."

"I'm sure that will make sense at some point." Rizzy replied. He started towards the Wall, his feet dragging. Right as he was about to cross the threshold, he paused and turned.

"Marco."

"Huh?"

"For a name. Ain't nobody that screws with a Marco." Rizzy gave a smile, not unlike Fez's.

"I'm sure that will make sense at some point."

- end -