I’m trying to fix all the wrongs I’ve done, but there are just so many. The life of an ex-supervillain is hard.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 1st Generation
Current Date: April 30, 2058

Character: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 91, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

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I was never very close to my half-sister, but I suppose that this wouldn’t really surprise anyone. I’m not stupidly close to my own fully blood-related family though I know none of them would let me get away with being a complete recluse as is. I know Mara’s kids, I did see them growing up, but I think that comes more from the fact that our community isn’t huge, not by any means.

I didn’t see every small, important moment of their lives as they happened, but I still like to think that I saw enough of them as they grew up that I know them to a point. No, I don’t know their favourite colour, or their favourite fruit or vegetable but this is also not the point of things. I was somewhat there but I’m also only half-related to them, not that this is an excuse.

My dreams are usually all over the place. This is one of those things I’ve long since accepted. Most of the time, when I’ll wake up in the morning, I’ll barely remember whatever the dream was about. I’ll possibly recall small bits and pieces here and there, but they’ll fade quickly enough that I’m just left with a sense of what the dream was, with little else.

Last night, I had a dream about Mara that painted her in a sort of odd light that I can’t help but imagine as being completely wrong. I do know how she was by the end. I do know how she left. That part is hard to not be aware of. I don’t have all the details, but I do know that she went feral, more or less. I didn’t even really know that this could be a thing.

As I’ve mentioned, the dreams usually fade fairly quickly the moment I wake up, but I still have bits and pieces of them clinging at this point and it just feels odd. I suppose it might be because it was about someone I knew. So to speak, in any case.

The glimpses that remain put her in the shoes of someone who seems to be repentant of the things they’ve done. I somewhat remember something she said in the dream about how she was trying to fix all the wrongs she’d done but there were just too many. That, in itself, I guess, isn’t so far off. Not that I really have any details, just things I’m aware of. It was the little extra tidbit she tacked on at the end about how the life of an ex-supervillain was hard that remained with me, I think.

Now, I know that this is my brain just making things up; though on that same note, I’ve heard of spiritual visits where the deceased tries to communicate but if that were even to be the case, I have no idea why she’d pick me. As is, I can’t imagine that her spirit would come back this way but what do I know? I didn’t know her, not that well.

If any of that dream was real, I think that I have a hard time even imagining what would have been going through her head for her to even imagine herself as a supervillain. I don’t think she even knew what those were. I grew up around a time of comic books and other things, not that I ever really read comic books or watched these movies, but I knew what they were. From what little I do know of the way she and Tane grew up before mom brought them here, comic books, television and movies weren’t a thing.

They could have been a thing afterwards, certainly, but, again, from what I’ve heard and seen of my half-sister, I very much so doubt that she was the type to spend all that much time sitting in front of the television, watching superhero movies, or reading comics about them. That part, in a way, feels very much so like my brain just decided that this was a good look for her, and I suppose that it wouldn’t really have been wrong.

All of this was just a dream, though. It isn’t enough for me to go ask questions about whether or not her presence has been felt more than usual around her usual hauntings if you would. Not to add puns to the situation either, of course. I’m really just trying to make sense of why this particular dream is sticking with me longer than any of my others but, at this point, I’m fairly close to just letting it all go. It’s not worth it.

Final Word Count: 775

Why would you be roommates with your worst enemy? That’s asking for trouble.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 1st Generation
Characters: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 90, physically about 25
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 811 words
 

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I suppose it possibly comes as no surprise to anyone who might know me that I’m not much of a reader. It just isn’t something I can get into. It’s not because I have too short an attention span, it’s not because the words swim on the page or that they’re blurry—because I do own a pair of reading glasses and I use them mostly while looking through the pad. I just don’t like reading. I’ll read a chapter or two, then I’ll get bored with what I’m reading, or I will lose track of what I’ve read and, well the rest is history.

Audiobooks are a thing. I know they are a thing, I’ve known they were a thing for years but the idea of popping in earbuds or headphones on my head to listen to a book is a foreign idea. I like being able to hear everything that’s going on around me. That’s one of those few things that I’m weird about—beyond everything else I’m well aware of being ‘weird’ about. I’m not comfortable in a situation if I can’t hear the going-ons, so headphones or earbuds just aren’t a thing for me.

Settling down in a room to have the audiobook playing out without either of these things isn’t really an option, either. I certainly don’t want to force anyone to have to listen to this book I’m potentially trying to read because I don’t want to have to plug in anything to keep it to myself.

One of the things I’ve discovered recently, however, are books of flash fiction. Short stories, some only a few words long, others a couple of pages, but never anything that would take more than a minute or five to read, depending on your reading speed. Through that particular type of writing, I’ve found myself enjoying reading a little. It’s not something I ever actually thought I would say. I mean, I’m 90, though I know I will never look that age, I know there’s that saying about teaching an old dog new tricks, but this seems so out there that I still have a hard time believing it.

Of those stories, some were marking, others left me scratching my head and some, to my partial dismay as they seemed as though they had just the right amount of whatever it is you want to call the thing that had my interest, were open-ended flash fictions that were meant to entice the reader to read the full book from which the story came from.

One of those particular stories had strong can’t-stand-you vibes going on and by the end, I’m not sure what I was expecting since it was just a couple of pages long, but it was so open-ended I know I spent almost a full minute just staring at that last paragraph, trying to will my brain to let go of the fact that I wasn’t going to get any sort of closure I was supposed to out of that story if it makes any sense.

In a way, when I think back about it, it feels almost like it was a prologue to the much bigger story, but a prologue placed much, much earlier than the timeline in which the story itself was happening. It was something about roommates hating the piss out of one another. Is that even a thing? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a thing up until now, but now, that’s totally a thing and even if I’m the only one using it, that’s still going to be a thing.

After that failed short story, I found myself putting the book down for a few weeks. I know it shouldn’t even have bothered me that much, but all of the other short fiction I’d read had all been just right and this one, well this one felt like a stranger in a room full of friends. I’m sure this is a weird way of looking at things but it’s the only thing I can think of at this point. There even was mention of reading the whole story in the author’s short bio on the page following the end of the story and that just left more of a sour taste in my mouth.

I know that not everything I’ll ever want to try will end well. That’s not how these things work, but after finding myself unable to really read anything for the vast majority of my life up until this point, that I’d found something I could finally enjoy but ended up stumbling on what felt like a sort of weird slap to the face just didn’t help.

I’ll get over it, I know I will, I am interested in reading the rest of the stories, but I think I just sort of have to brace myself for it.

Once we find the weakness, we can exploit it and get out of this place.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 1st Generation
Characters: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 89, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 703 words
 

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I don’t talk much about what happened while we were out there. Those dark years, as most seem to call them. I don’t know that anyone feels the need to willingly talk about them and I can’t say I blame them. They weren’t good years, not in any way.

Lately, I’ve been having a dream that seems to be putting me back into those dark years but, try as I might, I can’t remember that it really happened. It leaves me to wonder if my brain isn’t trying to send weird, mixed signals about something that shouldn’t be. I’ve even been to the doc—and I hate going to the doc for any reason whatsoever—for some tests and I’m fine and well, my brain is fine and well. I could go to Luce but I don’t really want to go that far.

I’m sure most are familiar with escape-the-room games and setup. You’re in a room that’s locked and you somehow have to figure out how to escape. There are clues, there are puzzles, there just are things that you need to figure out to be able to escape.

That’s what the dream was about. Though it sounded more like a prison than a normal room I was trying to escape from. I can’t even begin to explain why I wanted to leave the room. The moment the door opens, I wake up and I never see what’s outside. I’m not alone but the other people around me are muddled figures and I don’t know their voices. None of them ring any bell.

Often, on my left, someone talks about finding the weakness in the room, exploiting it and then getting out. The first time I heard it, I remember replying that this wasn’t how these rooms worked and there was silence all around me, as though I’d been ‘kicked out’ of that part of the dream. I remember spending what felt like an eternity trying to find the means to escape, on that particular dream and I never repeated myself after that.

Most of the time—because the dream is recurring and it rarely changes—I just let these muddled figures find their way out and I sit back because I feel as though I’m really only supposed to watch and not participate. It takes me longer to ‘get out’ of the room when I participate than it does when I don’t. I’ve stopped trying. I feel like I’m partially lucid enough during these dreams to know that much but that’s about it.

I still don’t know what it’s all about, though. I really don’t. I figured that just maybe I had to figure something out about my life but that very life feels pretty perfect to me and I don’t know that I want to change anything about it. I’ve even brought it up to my lovely companion and we’re both just at a loss as to what the dream might be about.

It’s not that the dream comes often or leaves me unrested; it just is a weird but very repetitive dream that has no real meaning so far. It’s gotten to the point of confusion more than anything else and I’d like to figure it out. I tell myself that if I can do that, the dream will move on from my brain and go bother someone else.

Oh, I know that this isn’t how dreams work but a guy can dream—no pun intended—and I’d just like to go back to my mostly dark and dreamless nights. Yes, I know, it’s highly possible that I’m dreaming even when I don’t think I am but that’s also not the point. It’s not about whether I want to be dreaming or not, it’s about whether I can get this particular dream to stop because I’m just at a point where I don’t know what to do about it anymore. It has become like watching a short movie on constant repeat and that sort of makes it lose its flavour and even just closing my eyes during the dream to fake sleep doesn’t help me. Is that too much to ask for? Something else to dream about?

I’m just as surprised as you are.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 1st Generation
Characters: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 87, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 536 words
 

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The meat was tender, it was juicy, it was perfect.

I was just as surprised as she was when I plated the whole thing because the last time I’d been the one in the kitchen when we were serving chicken, I ended up serving charred nuggets that should not even have been anywhere near charred but they were. So the meals I prepare are usually raw. Not so much that as in raw meat but in meatless foods. It’s surprising how much that has changed for me but after I got used to no longer eating prepackaged and canned food, I just felt better about things.

So every other night or so, we eat mostly vegan meals but I make sure they’re filling and don’t leave us needing that extra calorie intake that I know a lot of vegans from what feels like a previous life might have needed. I’ve read up a lot on different sort of ‘diets’ when I realized that I wouldn’t be able to eat the same food I’d always eaten when the world changed. I read up about vegans, about vegetarians, I read up about keto and this and that. It was more informative than I honestly thought it would be, in the end.

So yeah, that I was able to prepare this white chicken meat to be so juicy and tender and perfectly cooked was something along the lines of a miracle. I have tried and tried again to better my meal preparation skills but there’s just something in this brain of mine that refuses to latch on to certain things. Don’t even try to believe that writing me out a recipe will work, we’ve tried. I followed the recipe exactly to the letter and it still was a complete disaster.

Still, it had been a pretty long time since we’d last had white meat that I could recall and I’d just wanted to try again. I do that every now and again. Not too often, I’m actually pretty happy with how well I can prepare raw foods to not feel the need to prove myself but being able to not ruin something felt good. I’m not going to deny that.

I might seem like a rough-and-tumble sort of guy but I’m not, not really. I might like some leather, tattoos and piercing but I’m still a cuddler, once you get past the aloof exterior. I’m just me. No one’s going to manage to change me and anyone who tries is going to be certainly in for a rough awakening. I’m not going to change for anyone.

I’ve been living this life of mine comfortably enough for far too long to want to change anything, at least in a drastic way. There always will be room for little changes, that’s beside the point. If someone doesn’t like me as I am, they’re just shit out of luck because I am as I am and that’s that.

We marked—well, I marked—the calendar on the date of the wonderfully perfect chicken. I want a reminder of what I managed. I’ll mark any other days when meat doesn’t end up a charred mess. Just you watch, I’ll manage more.

I could eat these cookies for the rest of my life.

Timeline/World: Atheria 1st Generation
Characters: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 85, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 522 words

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Om, nom, nom. Homemade cookies.

This coming from the guy who doesn’t like eating sweet things. I’ve just never had the stomach for it and yet, I could swim in a pool of nothing but these cookies and I think I’d be in heaven.

My diet hasn’t changed much over the years, at least not in any drastic, overnight ways. Of course, I think all of us had to adapt to somewhat different meals, mostly because of the change in ingredients that were grown and that most prepackaged foods were no longer really a thing but that’s about it. We still have rice, couscous, we still have oatmeal, but stuff that comes out of cans? I don’t think I’ve ever seen a can in the market.

For someone like me who, while on his own, mostly ate prepackaged food and canned meals, this was the biggest change, but since I also wasn’t quite completely on my own when we all did come back from the big split, it helped me to adapt, little by little.

I am no stranger to burned food but I’ve also gotten better about this. That might also have to do with the fact that I eat a lot of raw food, barely red meat anymore unless it’s in tartare form. I can’t remember when I last ate white meat though, at least when I’m the one preparing the food and we take turns.

These cookies though. Where do I even begin? I am willing to admit that I am a content little guinea pig for new recipes, even if they’re the sweet kind. That might be because my opinion is unbiased. It doesn’t really matter who prepared it or who thought it up. If it is too sweet, I will say so, if it is too spicy, too bland, I will point it out. My mock critiques aren’t harsh but they’re honest. So when I was first told about this particular recipe I really wasn’t sure what to think or what the outcome would be like but I’ve been converted to the deliciousness that is these cookies and I wouldn’t share them at all if it meant eating them until I was too full to even think about moving at all anymore.

They really are just the perfectly right mix of sweet and savoury, they’re chewy but not greasy, they don’t crumble, they don’t leave your mouth dry. I’ve tried the milk-dipping test and they soak up just enough to add a little something to it but not so much that the whole thing becomes soggy and breaks apart to gross mud.

So what more can I say? Bring on these cookies from the delicious world of cookiedom and I will eat them all and then some if given a chance. They’re the best thing since… well since a lot of things but I can’t compare food to other delicious activities. Would I rather be eating these than sharing my bed and pleasure with my beautiful one? That’s not even something that should be compared, it wouldn’t be right and it wouldn’t be fair.

Graffiti

Timeline/World: Atheria 1st Generation
Characters: Mathis Bouncer
Race: Halfling – Feline / Human
Age: 85, physically about 25
Final Word Count: 547 words

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There are two schools of thoughts. At least, while I grew up there were two schools of thoughts. Those who believe that art is just what you find on canvas, paper and the rest and those who believe art encompasses a whole lot more. Tattoos, graffiti, painting, gardens, there is art everywhere in our world and it is a little sad that some people seem to be unable to see the beauty that surrounds us or the fact that art is everywhere.

That gorgeous brick building from way back then? That’s art in itself, the placement of each brick, the stained glass windows, the paint job.

Not everyone likes all kind of art, that would be asking for far too much and not all styles are interesting to look at. At least, that’s my own very humble opinion.

One form of art I discovered before the world went to hell though is a sort of graffiti but it was made with plants. It was a sort of spray with mixed things they’d use for their art form and making sure to keep it watered enough for the length it took to grow made it a masterpiece, as far as I was concerned. Some of the ‘tags’ were somewhat lame, but the few who went to the full length of the grass-graffiti process were amazing. I saw a few portraits, I saw a few landscapes, it was something.

Of course, in the case of some, it wasn’t so much graffiti anymore as just a vertical set up garden. Grass, flowers and I couldn’t begin to tell what else set up along a vertical surface and cared for wonderfully until it was breathtaking.

I know some seem to think I’m a little out there, with my appreciation for fine needlework and piercing and the rest, but I can appreciate a beautiful piece of classical art if I’m given the chance to. I’ve spent time in museums. Mostly through virtual reality but what can you do when the world’s gone to shit and all that was has mostly been lost forever?

Of course, between the help of a few, a good few pieces of the world we knew before was either saved just beforehand or has been dug back up and preserved for who knows when. It isn’t as though we have a museum for all of these somewhat mismatched pieces to be set out to be viewed, though I think it wouldn’t be such a bad thing but it’s not really my call.

I know most of those saved and restored pieces are safe and sound in the lab at this point, in a temperature-controlled room but I think if others could look, and I mean really look, though virtual reality is pretty much as good, at old art this way, they could maybe better learn about the past we’ve all had to leave behind.

We may be just a small sample of the world out there as it was before, but I think everyone should expand their knowledge, discover more than just what is left but what left to it all so that it won’t happen again. Not that I see it happening again, not within our cities, but the discovery of older things wouldn’t hurt.