Ever feel the need to just write fluff peices that don't actually mean anything? Ever have the urge to toss all of your RPG characters into a story that has no real purpose, plot, or reason for existing? I know I do! So here is the first installment in a story that I like to call "A bunch of Nateboi's Tabletop RP characters, locked in a mall, fighting zombies". I'll update this whenever I feel the urge to write something that's not weighty and heavy (I.E., anthology stuff, work writing stuff, what not).
Brian Harper didn't leave the comfort of his bookstore much these days. He didn't really see much of a reason to. He'd done more adventuring in his twenty six (or was it twenty eight?) years that he felt more than comfortable in his simple little life. He'd traveled through the spirit lands for years, only to find that mere weeks had passed in the earth realm. He'd loved and lost and loved again, he'd fought in wars, watched all that he had rent asunder only to find it again. And now? Now he was simply a priest of no particular noteworthiness who ran a small occult bookshop. It was quiet, and at this point in his life, quiet made him happy.
Of course, a bookstore can only so much comfort. Certain things, such as the latest PS3 game involving Batman, could only be gotten by venturing outside of one's comfort zone and into the local mall. Still, he was a priest of Aphrodite. He loved people. He could deal with the mall.
“Then stop whining and buy the thing. This mall has the crappiest perches in the city.”
The voice of his familiar echoed in his mind, and the words made him chuckle. The big black crow was his constant companion, though occasionally it was hard to keep him within eyeshot. He was a crow, after all.
Brian walked into the game stop, adjusting his glasses lightly. His wooden lightsaber handle bounced against his thigh as he walked, and his carpenter's hammer weighed heavy through his belt. Both mystical items of power, both of which he refused to leave home without. If for no other reason than the spirits bound to the hammer would feel very upset if he left them at home. The mall was strangely quiet, though there were as many people as one would expect in a city mall on a Saturday morning.
As he headed towards the shelf which proclaimed to hold the game he wanted, a quick motion caught his eye. Instincts learned in the years traveling the spirit lands made him turn to inspect the motion, which worked in his favor in this case. The motion turned out to be a short woman who's most noticable feature was snow white hair against a latin skin tone. The quick motion was her spinning into the store, as if dancing. He had no time to take notice of her other features, because she spun towards him, grabbed his hand, and led him in the first six steps of a waltz before bouncing away. She had such a playful air about her that it took him several seconds to comprehend precisely what had just happened.
“...what the hell just happened?” Brian adjusted his glasses, looking at the woman curiously. She stopped walking away, and turned to him with a smile.
“You looked like you needed to dance.” She seemed to speak quite honestly about that, so much so that Brian began to wonder if he had a sign on his back or something.
“I didn't put one there, though it would have been a good idea. Kind of sad I didn't think of it.”
“Shut up, Swirl.”
The woman wasn't quite as short as he'd first thought, he realized as he looked at her. More about average. She was a little chubby, but carried it amazingly well, at least as far as the coveralls and tye-dyed t-shirt showed off her figure. But more than her figure, Brian found himself drawn to her eyes. They were such a bright emerald that they nearly seemed to glow.
“Is this where I deliver the picture line? Because you've been staring at me an awfully long time without responding.” She smirked playfully. She didn't seem upset when she said it, she just seemed like she was giving him a hard time. Brian blinked, and then shook his head softly.
“Oh. Sorry, I was...uh...sorry.” He chuckled. “You know, I'm usually a better talker. You just managed to throw me off my game. Good job on that one, not too many people can pull it off.”
She shrugged lightly, bouncing as she stood there. She almost seemed like she simply had too much energy to stand still, like a four year old who's working so very hard to be polite but really wants to go play.
“I do that to people sometimes. It's either the eyes, or the white hair with dusty colored skin. I can never tell which one, though.” She seemed to ponder that seriously as she stood there. Brian arched an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses.
“You don't think it was maybe the fact that you randomly grab people and dance with them that does it?”
She shook her head. “Nah, can't be that. So, why the hammer?”
Brian was used to the question, but not the sudden topic change. Still, he was a talker, so it took little effort to grab another foothold. His response came to him at the same time he noticed what was hanging off her backpack.
“I'll answer that when you tell me why you have a pink stick with a bright yellow star hanging off your backpack.” Said easily, but with the tone of a playful challenge.
“Because it's my wand. Duh.” She spoke with the exact tone a disrespectful teenager might use, before giving him a stupidly cheerful grin.
“I like this girl. You should bring her home to meet your wife.”
“Yes, because then I could have two women giving me crap about my performance, and in stereo too. That's just what I want.”
“It'd make me laugh.”
“Right. Well, this has been a wonderfully pleasant conversation, but I need to pick up my game and move on.” Brian gave her a polite smile. It wasn't that the girl was bothering him, exactly, so much as he felt out of his element and that bothered him. He'd been one of the smoothest talking, manipulative bastards around at one point in his life. Now, he hardly knew how to carry on a conversation. He supposed time and wars and adventure could do that to a person, but it bothered him.
“Kay. Hope you dance more often. You really do seem to need it.” She spoke quite sincerely, so much so that it actually confused him yet again. He prepared himself to give one last farewell statement, but something else caught his attention. Two things, actually, in rapid succession. The first was an intense wave of power washed over him. Someone had clearly cast a wide reaching, stupidly powerful spell. The second was that the woman in front of him seemed to have noticed it, as well.
“...did you feel that?” Brian found himself asking, nearly on instinct.
“Heard, technically. Though I'm more curious about the fact that there's no one else here all of a sudden.”
Her words caused Brian to look around carefully. And much to his surprise, there wasn't a single person inside the store. It hadn't been packed before, true, but there had been more than zero people.
“Swirl, you see anyone outside?”
“That'd be a negative. Don't worry, I'm trying to find a way inside as we speak. I'd come in through the front door, but it's too heavy for me to open on my own.”
“Alright. Be careful. Last thing I need is to be saving you from being stuck in an air vent.”
“Oh, ha ha. That's only happened the one time, you know.”
Brian was about to answer, when he realized that the woman wasn't standing in front of him any longer. He blinked, glancing around for her, quickly spotting her by the door. She was peeking her head out, looking quite curiously down the hall.
“See something?” he asked, moving towards her.
“Well...yes. But you're not going to like it.” She sounded strangely upbeat, even given the current weirdness.
“Yes, well, there's a lot of things I don't like already. I fail to see how this is going to be any different.” He moved to the door, poking his head out.
“Yeah, but you're really not going to like this.”
The sight that greeted him was rather surprising. At least, he found it surprising to see what looked like five zombies shuffling down the hallway. Actually, it was less the sight, and more the moaning sound. In fact, he could swear he heard one or two of them crying out for brains.
“...are those dead people? Like, actual zombies? Tell me I'm not seeing people, who are dead, shuffling down the hall.”
“You know, I did warn you that you wouldn't like it.”
Brian's only response was a string of Greek curses.
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I've sold 12 copies.
That's two more than the goal for me to publish a second anthology. So, I'm proud to announce that the second anthology has entered the editing stage. There is a confirmed 5 stories, with a possible sixth one, and two rant scripts. The title will be 'All According to Plan', and will involve master plans and their outcomes. Not necessarily political plans, either.
I'm not sure how much it will sell for yet, more updates as they come. Here's an excerpt from one of the stories.
“Of course it was me. Anyway, we haven't much time. There's much to explain to you, Dylan.”
Dylan blinked. So not only was the sword talking, but it knew his name. He tried to remember if he'd dropped any acid at any point in his entire life, and was quite sad when he realized that he hadn't. That actually would have made things a lot easier.
“Ok, how do you know my name? And how are you talking? You're a sword, you're not supposed to talk. You don't even have a mouth.”
“I'm not really talking so much as projecting words into your mind. And that's how I know your name. Look, Dylan, we can discuss the whys and wherefores, but that's not going to get the job done. The important thing is that you answered when I called.” The sword's voice reminded Dylan of James Earl Jones, he decided. Without the Darth Vader rasp. Dylan sighed.
“Alright, I'll bite. Why did you call me, and what's so important?”
“I'll try to make a long story short. I am the sword Gladius Magicus. I was forged long ago by a great wizard. My power boosts the power of whoever wields me. But some time after I was forged, a dark sorcerer killed my master and took me for himself. Great evil spread across the land before a heroic lad slew the sorcerer and used my power to heal the land.”
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