Isn’t that just a fancy way of saying you hate me?

Timeline/World: Modern Monotony – Ticking Clocks
Characters: Murdoc Williams
Race: Human
Age: 38
Final Word Count: 577 words

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I’ve been all over the world. Never on my own, because travelling sucks and I’ve always been around Hanna, we complete one another in a way. He’s my oldest friend and it always feels good to be near him. We clicked from the moment we’ve met and we never had a fight and I’d like to keep it that way.

Now if only I could feel the same about everyone else I meet, my life would just be so much simpler but I’m not quite that lucky, no. My build and the kind of life I lead—helping others as part of the group of doctors without borders—has made me the target of plenty of angry people. I think the one person I’ve had the most issues with, on and off over the years, is Penelope.

I’d never thought much of it at first; she’d been a darling and a sweetheart, first making her moves on Hanna because, well, I suppose he’s the more approachable of us two. The blond hair, the almost feminine name, the androgynous features. He’s beautiful and I’ll protect him with my life. I’m more like a bear, a hairless one because I like to keep a close shave but that’s beside the point. I’m tall, I’m built and my family always told me I should have played professional football but I’ve never liked the sport and while this might get me booed at, I’ve never seen the point of it.

Penelope though, she tried her charms on Hanna, she tried hard. The issue with this is that she was the opposite of what he tended to look for when women cropped up briefly in his life and his penchant for men was a little stronger than for women though he was open to both.

I never liked her, there just was something off about her from the start and we’d been at work in a little, lost corner of Spain when miss prime and proper first made her first entrance. She zoomed right towards Hanna, like she’d been planning it all and he ignored her in favour of treating the patient he’d already been talking to. I tried to veer her away so he could continue what he was doing but the ugly look she gave me made me pause. She was going to be a problem. I didn’t even know her and I was pretty sure she already hated me for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.

It wasn’t as though we were famous. We weren’t doing this job for the glory; we did it because we could help others. We didn’t have all that much money either.

She kept on trying to gather his attention and while, on off-work hours, he allowed her a few dates, it never went very far and every time I was near her and he wasn’t, she’d give me such ugly looks that it really did make me wonder as to what was going on in her brain. Did women like that really exist? The kind who saw someone from a distance and decided that this was going to be ‘their man’? It did feel like that. The look in her eyes always made me feel like she was a jealous lover and they never even made it that far. You have no idea how relieved I was when we were shipped elsewhere, out of Spain and far, far away from her.

The taste of glory is sweet and I want to experience it again. Will you help me?

Timeline/World: Main Profile
Characters: Pride aka Kian
Race: Emotion – Pride
Age: 29, physically about 22
Final Word Count: 590 words

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He knew it had all been a lie. Even at the tender age he had been then, it had been a lie and he had hated it but he’d gone with anyone. He had been desperate to be accepted as part of this new group they were in and it had not done him any good at all. Contrary to popular belief, he didn’t like to be surrounded by others, he hated it when there were too many people around him, it made his chest constrict and his breathing come in shallowly.

Aven had told him that these had been the signs of a panic attack on the edge of happening and since that particular day, he’d not done ‘the thing’ ever again. He’d closed himself off to others who weren’t his family and even to his family he had closed himself up a little.

It had been his nature that had made him act the way he had, his nature that had made him say, ‘Yes, I’ll help you.’ He’d been ten, eager to discover the world, to better control his nature the way they all were, though in a way, not really. The others all seemed to be well ahead of him and he was simply, gently told that it was likely he was a late bloomer but that he would discover his control very soon. He’d discovered it in the weeks following that particular attempt after he’d shut himself away in his room for everything but their mandatory time at school.

Kian could still recall all of the details so clearly that they made him ache whenever he did think about them, he didn’t want to. He still could remember the way the other boy had whimpered and cried as the bully he had been helping then, knowing better but not really able to help himself and not be at the bully’s side, had beaten up the innocent boy. Just because he could, because he wanted to, because the ‘glory’ of being the winner in a schoolyard fight had been sweet. It made him want to hurl.

Of course, the moment all was said and done, he’d run off to tattle, tattling had felt as foul as helping the bully but it had appeased something in him. He’d gotten in trouble for the whole thing because he’d been honest in his tattling, adding his name to the list of those guilty of being part of the fight, even if he hadn’t physically hurt the other boy. He felt like what he’d done had been so much worse; he’d been the one to hold the boy down while the bully delivered the blows.

The thought made his stomach turn but Kian closed his eyes, forcing the memory partially away. He breathed in and out deeply, trying so hard to not think of anything but the present but there had been a necessity to remembering that memory when his eyes had skimmed across the obituary, not for the boy they had beaten up but the bully. Lung cancer. He’d crossed paths with the man a few times in their lives and had been aware of the heavy smoking being done, so he wasn’t all that surprised, was he? No, he might have honestly pushed a little at the other, emotionally, to feel pride in his smoking, to bring back that feeling of glory about what he was doing much as he’d done back then in that schoolyard.

Kian felt no remorse for the death of a bully.

This isn’t my problem, so I don’t need to fix it.

Timeline/World: Alternate Earth – Almost Timeless
Characters: Duke Lagenberg
Race: Human – Meta – Telepathy
Age: 24
Final Word Count: 575 words

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There are some people out there in the world I would certainly like to see maimed. This isn’t even about a personal vendetta or whatever the term anyone these days would like to use, this is about people who, by all means, should be doing their jobs but are not. This is about people who ought to act like they are on top of the world and everyone should bow down to them when it is so clearly not even anywhere close to how the proper situation is happening.

I mean, I’ve come across more than my fair share of stupid people but some are worse than others and while I know I’ve also acted like an entitled asshole now and again, when I did, it was to piss people off more than to avoid doing something that I knew was mine to fix.

The culprit this time?

One particular importer we work with having sent us now not just one but three shipments with defective items. It is his company, his workers, who work on these items to clean them up, to make sure that they are in good enough condition for shipping. We do the fixing up but defective items are things we usually consider being too worn down or in too much distress to fix up without having to pay, out of pocket, more than we know we could get for the item.

Now, if it had just been one item in the whole lot, it could have been easily overlooked but as it stands, in three shipments that all had about fifty items altogether, at least ten have been beyond fixing. So one would imagine that yes, this is a problem, yes, we have to talk to our importer about it and we did. His answer? How was this any of his problem? He just found the pieces and sent them over, it wasn’t his problem if they were beyond fixing, his workers had found them, thought them sturdy enough or manageable enough for transport and had sent them. So that the items were defective was our problem.

These people, they’ve never sat well with me. I wouldn’t even know where to begin on the whole point but I can’t stand them. They rub me wrong in so many ways. When you mess something up, it only makes sense that you admit to what you’ve done, that you make sure, or at least try your hardest, to not do that mistake again but it’s clear that with this one supplier that client satisfaction is very low on their scale of importance so it’s likely we will have to drop them. What else can we do?

It is costing us money to have these items imported and fixed, the ones we can’t fix, we can’t sell and there’s nothing we can do with them, we’ve yet to find a niche for people who would like these almost broken items. It likely exists but we haven’t found it.

Oh sure, though, by fixing up the others and selling them, we likely make enough of a margin of profit that it isn’t a complete loss but that small of a margin of profit tends to get lost in paying our employees and everything else we need to pay for, so all in all, I think we’re going to have to find a new supplier. A shame, because these old pieces they really are something.

I’m not a fool. I’ve been intentionally letting you lead me around.

Timeline/World: Atheria 1st Generation
Characters: Xenith Maxima
Race: Halfling – Elf (snow) / Vampire
Age: 170, physically about 22
Final Word Count: 541 words

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Growing up was an interesting experience. I wasn’t ever really on my own, despite my strange bloodline. I was born as I am; a mix of snowbound elf and vampire. Not quite the first of its kind but the only one who did display clearly distinguishable marks of both halves of the very bloodline. People often kept their distances from me, uncertain as to how to act around such a ‘freak of nature’ as I’d often hear them murmur behind my back, thinking I wouldn’t hear them.

The Elven part of my bloodline made feeding me somewhat complicated. While I could digest blood the way most of the others did, I had a somewhat hard time of it if that was my diet for more than a certain amount of time and I preferred real, proper food. That in itself was a problem in a small colony of vampires who had their blood donors and who weren’t used to anything else food-wise.

While ‘freak of nature’ was a common enough term, the other kids my age were crueller, calling me stupid to my face, calling me slow, calling me… well a lot of things. It hurt at first but it forced me to mature up quicker and find ways to not feel the ache the whole deal made me feel.

Often, mostly to make these other kids feel like idiots themselves, I would let them believe that they had my attention, that I was enraptured but whatever they were telling me, I was letting them lead me around, thinking I believed every little word they said but I knew better.

When I was old enough to leave, I did. I think it’s the only good thing that ever happened to me. Sure, I wasn’t quite ready to survive out there in the wild on my own, I had a few seriously close calls but I made it out, I’m alive now, I have a mate, children, grandchildren. I love each and every single one of them, no matter their bloodline and I will never turn my back on any single one of them.

I know I haven’t always been a great example of what to be and not to be but I believe that every parent goes through this, the one part where they’re learning along with their children about what they should and should not do. I was not meant to be a mother, I don’t think, but I’ve cherished every second of that particular adventure.

I would give the world up for my mate if I had to. We haven’t always seen eye to eye but I believe that there is not a single soul out there who do agree on everything all of the time, it wouldn’t make any sense.

Looking back on my life and what it was, I do have a few regrets but nothing that eats away at me, I would not really change any of the decisions I’ve made over time, even if there is some regret attached to it because that’s how anyone learns, that’s how we grow and how we become who we are meant to be in the long run. I’m no fool. I’m done letting others lead me around.

You aren’t so chill anymore.

Timeline/World: Alternate Earth – Almost Timeless
Characters: Briar Queshire
Race: Halfling – Angel / Human
Age: 274, physically about 24
Final Word Count: 579 words

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The expression was confusing. I had heard it before but I had never had to ask the meaning since it had not had anything to do with me but now that I had heard it before, it had come back to the surface of my mind and trying to make sense of it was not leading me much of anywhere. I might have had an eidetic memory—despite being blind, it is not just about seeing—and I recalled every small detail pertaining to everything but this expression had never found itself with an answer and it did baffle me to a strange point.

I thought about asking my brother about it, he had more contact with the outside world and its newest generation than I did but I wondered if it really was all that important. My mind still was trying to puzzle and piece things together. The air had not been chilly, it rarely was, so was it about someone who perhaps had been a little chilly and now was more than warm enough? No, that made little sense, the sentence had used ‘chill’ and not ‘chilly’ and I had been certain it had been meant that way.

I let it fall to the back of my mind like everything else but I knew it would come back to the surface every now and again, begging to be understood. This was the one trouble with my mind. Unclear things surfaced often, seeking answers and I knew I would give it the answer it wanted but at the point I was at, it was moot.

When I did come back home from my wandering with Judas—never on my own would any of these souls let me wander and I do appreciate it, this home and its surroundings are much bigger than the almost little shack I used to live in and I knew my way around that shack perfectly. There still were some nooks in this house I had not discovered and the way to the nearest public area was much further and for my safety and Jude’s sanity it was decided that I would best wander with companionship, I accepted that.

I did wonder for a moment, however, why not ask my companion about the meaning of those words? I am most uncertain as to why I did not bother asking while we were finally making our way back, I suppose that, in a way, it was not all that important to know and by the time the idea of asking had surfaced, we’d wandered off and away and I knew that his mind did not always latch onto the same things mine did and confusing him while he was in the driver’s seat of our vehicle was not very high on my list of things to experiment with.

The whole thing had wandered off to the back of my mind when we made it back home and I let it be. We gathered our treasure—more precious seedlings for me to tend to with love among other things—and made our way back inside so I could see to these little plants and take care of them in the best way I knew how.

I have been making these natural recipes for so long that all of it comes easy now but it still keeps me occupied most of the time and I can help others without using up all of my personal healer’s energy.

I don’t think now is a good time to be picky about this.

Timeline/World: Erisia – Rockbourne Dome
Characters: Sorren Quinn-Speziale
Race: Human
Age: 16
Final Word Count: 534 words

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There were days when some things just flared up more than others. Most of the time it wasn’t so much a problem, they’d worked around the things that set him off but at times it was just really out of the blue, there was no helping it and no fixing it. At the very least, when those happened, he didn’t have screaming fits the way he used to when so much younger. Most of these fits now centred around food items and his reaction was mild at first, he refused to eat the item if it set him off.

That wasn’t much of an issue when they were at home, it was a partial issue when it was lunch at school—and that happened every now and again because his nose seemed to detect something in the scent of the food that would set him off—and it tended to be a seriously big issue when they were on drops because not eating the food there was a survival problem and that was what happened last time.

Shai had done everything to make him eat the ration bar but he would have had none of it, he just didn’t want to eat it. It was wrong on all levels and he would have preferred to go hungry than to eat the thing, even if some part of him couldn’t grasp why the rest of his brain was so set on not eating that bar. He’d been so hungry by then but at times, in his brain, it was like two sides were warring and while his side with the most common sense did manage to overcome the other most of the time, it did not always win.

Sorren didn’t like to think back to that particular situation. To anyone else outside their regular circle, he was just a young man being picky about the food and putting himself, as well as his drop partner, in danger by not being at his fittest but it just wasn’t that. He hadn’t gone hungry long, of course, but still. After a whole lot of pleading from Shai, Sorren had left, he’d wandered their area, sweat rolling off of him in the impossible summer heat and while he hadn’t wandered far, he’d gone far enough to locate a few bushes of juicy berries.

His hands had been stained deeply red by the time he’d come back but the edge of hunger had been gone from his stomach and it was done trying to gnaw itself to pieces. Shai had fussed and worried about the stain but those hands producing the berries in question had stopped that worry short and instead had pulled a slightly tired laugh from his brother. Sorren was aware that in that particular situation, it had been a mix of the heat and something about the ration bar that had set him off, he could understand that much.

They ate the refreshing berries until both their hands were stained red from their juice, that particular afternoon, before going to wash up. Sorren might have been seen as picky but he wasn’t resourceless and he could handle himself most of the time when something sat wrong.

I didn’t think I’d ever be thanked for this.

Timeline/World: Porcelain Lives
Characters: Tokali Calae
Race: Angel – War
Age: 29, physically 24
Final Word Count: 570 words

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My life was a roller coaster. I was alive, I was free, I was chained and beaten, I was released. I was healthy, I became sick, I healed. I had found companionship, I was left, I died of a broken heart. I was reborn into something that had had nothing at all to do with my previous life and I did not really know what to do about it. How to handle it, what was expected of me.

My mate returned not long after my death and rebirth, I cannot say that I never blamed him for leaving me. In a way, I did, despite the fact that he had left me for a good reason and he had suffered enough without needing the extra weight of my blaming him for everything. In a way, I thanked him for leaving as this death and rebirth had given me strength I had never had before. An emotional and physical strength that I do not imagine the old me would have ever been able to possess.

He looked baffled, of course. I am sure everyone would be baffled for abandoning their lover without much of a word, especially as it would lead to their deaths but I was different, at this point. We reunited, I showed him just how grateful I was for his return and with our joining we washed away the scent of death from our home.

I wish I could say that we still are together to this day but at the very least, we parted on good terms, it broke both of our hearts but we know it was for the better that we go our separate ways. There were others who needed him and while I also felt as though I needed him, I knew it was an illusion. I did not so much need him at my side as I desperately wanted him there but we both worked it out as well as we could.

I have no true idea as to where he is at this point. I know he still lives, this link I share with him still thrums with life but that is all I have left of him. I have made a new life for myself, a somewhat lonely one but it is by my own design, not wishing to have anyone else approach me and then leave me because someone else might need them more. I admit that this parting of ways we did, has left a small, bitter tendril around my heart and it might be why I have trouble with letting myself be approached by anyone for this sort of thing.

None of it matters, does it? I live and I am well, I do have a few acquaintances I could almost call my friends, my power remains mostly dormant in its own way as there is no true need for it right now though I am sure it will come to surface before too long. The world is restless, souls are wandering left and right, some aching for action and violence and while I know of my title, I will make it my job to keep those of bloodlust under control. I refuse for there to be another war and no one has ever said that I had to be the cause of one. My title pertains to war and I can do as I will with it.

It’s a pain that goes bone-deep.

Timeline/World: Foreign Living
Characters: Favian Bach
Race: Human
Age: 31
Final Word Count: 551 words

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I don’t know that Emma really got over her miscarriage, especially not as it had been caused and had not simply been accidental. I wish she’d never met him, I wish they’d never been together but they’re still together now, they do have a beautiful and healthy son together but I know that her pain about the first miscarriage has never left her, it struck her bone-deep and remains to this day though it is faded now, not as present.

I can see it in her eyes when we talk about how terrifying her second pregnancy was and how she spent pretty much all nine months on near-complete bed rest because she was so stressed out about it. Not even because the first had been difficult, no. Her first pregnancy had gone so smoothly you’d have wondered if she hadn’t been born to carry children. Her then mother-in-law, however, oh the wicked witch, just wanting to keep her ‘baby’ safe, her son safe from the evils of the world. She’d pushed Emma down the stairs when my sister had been almost eight months along and that had been that. A broken ankle, a seriously bad concussion and the loss of beautiful life.

He cut ties with his parents after that, his mother took it hardest but it was for the best, she was an unhealthy presence for everyone around them. He and Emma found a little but comfortable apartment not far from where they both worked and did just that, they made it work. It wasn’t an easy living at first but as it turns out, they’re both pretty good at budgeting and before long, they were moving into a house not far and they’ve been there since.

When she found out she was pregnant the second time—not because they’d been trying, she told me it’d likely been an issue with protection—she was terrified, her eyes were huge and round and I could tell she didn’t know what to do about it all. Thankfully, her work could be done from home at this point and her employer was more than understanding. The first few months she’d work her full hours but as pregnancy really started to settle into its cycle, she slowed down, started stressing a little more so she was scripted some relaxants and she worked just a few hours a week. It wasn’t much of an issue for their income and I admit that Joshua was handling every moment of it well.

I spent a lot of time over there, my training as a nurse, though I’d veered back towards physical rehabilitation once the base had been done, proved useful enough a few times, just to blabber medical stuff at her to calm her down. Most of the time what I was saying was completely unrelated to her pregnancy but she believed in it and I don’t regret doing it. If my little check-ups did her good, then it was the only thing that really mattered, wasn’t it?

Their son is healthy as could be, there weren’t even any issues with the deliveries, and he almost came out too quickly, actually. Emma was relieved, I’m pretty sure so was Joshua and I was just happy to have been there for the moment.

Scoot over.

Timeline/World: Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Sorren Ursi
Race: Halfling – Demon / Dragon / Elf (forest) / Faery
Age: 40, physically about 21
Final Word Count: 561 words

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Here’s a short, interesting story: I talk to plants.

What, you thought it would be something deeper, something more meaningful? It’s meaningful to me. A lot of people think that plants are just things without feelings or emotions and I know that, for the most part, they’re right. They’re just plants, there might not be a brain in there but there is a general sort of ‘thereness’ to them. I can’t explain it. This is the reason why I have soft music playing in the plant room, why I talk to them, why I take care of them the way I do.

Just a week ago, I’d gotten my hands on a plant that had actually been lost and dead to us for longer than most of us from this third generation have been alive but there it was, potted, still so young and tiny, in my hands. I placed it on a shelf next to another plant I was sure it would communicate well. I scooted the older plant over a little, chuckling softly as I had to untangle some of its vines from the shelf above it, where it had grown surprisingly quickly and I did tell it that it had to scoot over to make room for another peer. I’ve had this vine plant for a while; it always latches onto everything around it except other plants, something I was glad for.

Because see, I’ve had a lot of different climbing plants like that and a lot of them would latch onto everything and I do mean everything. The trellis behind them, the shelves, the other plants. In these particular cases, I had to set them just right, make sure they wouldn’t suffocate the other plants I was setting within their reach but I did find out that some plants did grow better when they were being, essentially, held up by these climbers.

In the case of my latest little addition though, I knew it would need all the care and partial sun I could give it, so putting next to this particular climber that only left dappled bits of the sun about made the most sense. I was right, too. I’d been told that it was likely it would have a hard time to grow but placing it right where I did, surrounding it with other plants of similar nature and making sure it had all it needed gave it a huge boost, within that week it tripled in size and I know they normally don’t grow that quickly so I’m keeping an eye on it in case it decides to have a growth spurt that might make it a danger to all the other plants.

That’s the one thing to keep in mind. You might love one type of plant or flower more than the others, but you can’t play favourites with plants. If you let one take over the others, you’ll likely lose them all, it’s a bit like having good neighbours all around and plants do need neighbours. Some do well in pots all by themselves but let me tell you that having a couple of plants is like having a couple of pets that can play together when you’re not there to keep them company. It’s that simple.

No, of course, I’m not saying that plants are pets but the principle still applies.

I guess I’m more afraid of not being able to change than change itself.

Timeline/World: Erisia – Rockbourne Dome
Characters: Charles de Lacroix
Race: Human
Age: 17
Final Word Count: 571 words

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It’s subtle still but it’s there and it’s hard to miss for those of us who have never been like ‘everyone else.’ Those of us who were never straight, never into having children, never into any of the things we were forced to be for the sake of the population, as our now dead leader used to believe in. His belief of needing everyone paired and women popping out a lot of sons and some daughters is why our population is almost to its limits for the size of the dome and why we’re digging through the mountain—only one injured so far—to get into the sister dome on the other side.

I’m one of the people glad for this change but it still is frightening. After forcing myself to accept that one day I’d have to pick a woman and bed her, it’s hard to go against it, even though I know I wanted to flirt blatantly with just one person in particular for so long. Giving him that book was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Both for the fact that it was all we had left of our home and my brother was seriously against the idea and because people think I act like a particular way but I just don’t. That’s what it is, all an act.

To a lot of people, I act like I know what I’m doing, like I’m probably one of the greatest flirts the dome has ever known and that I’m that outgoing person who can get everything done because it’s just that easy but it’s not. Giving that book? It almost gave me heartburn I was so nervous about it. Talking to him at all and acting like I’m fine, like this is easy, like all I want to do is flirt with him and talk to him just so openly? Not easy despite that yes, I wish I could talk to him easily. I wish my heart wouldn’t get into my throat whenever he’s in my room because he’s been and I admit we’ve done a thing or two that eases this stress but I’m not how I act, I’m a lot more than my brother than I let on.

This has been an ongoing battle for me for years, this need to act more the way I think I should versus the way I know I am. No one likes a shy introvert, do they? Well, I suppose they do since I know my brother’s current friend seems quite fond of him despite his introvert and slightly grumbly nature but I feel like I’m wearing someone else’s skin when I act like myself, when I duck my eyes, when I blush and avoid contact.

I don’t even know how to really explain myself, it’s just how it is and I can’t seem to be able to change at all. I want to stop being afraid to get close, I can now, so why does my heart go a mile a minute when he steps close to me? I’m surprised I haven’t had a heart attack just yet. I know this is more than a simple little crush; this is more than just wanting to get into his pants and trust me I’m going to love that if we ever get there. I’m a little terrified to think I’m in love with him, what if that scares him off?