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[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: F.A.N.G. x MOIRA (3)

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://youtu.be/7py9ljHmgNo

Character:   FANG (street fighter) and Moira (overwatch) Word of the Day:  Crwth (Palpate, Minutia)

Definition:  an ancient Celtic stringed instrument that is plucked or bowed

Start Time:  5:42 PM <3/17/20> End Time:   6:10 PM <3/17/20> Final Word Count:   1,084

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

 At least, that was what Fan-Yun wrote in his phone. He’d bee staring at the ‘send’ button for about three minutes at this point. The debate on if he should send a selfie of him freshly woken up with his glasses to her or not ran through his head. Did he look okay? Was the lighting bad? Was his phone up to par? Thousands of questions ran through his head.

               He got up and sat down repeatedly while staring at the send button. He tried checking the lighting in his bathroom, but was it weird that he was sending her a picture while in his bathroom? Fan-Yun feared that perhaps Moira would think he was sending her a selfie and a greeting while on the toilet. Meaning he thought of her after or during using the bathroom. That was a bad look.

               How far up did he need to take a selfie? Neck up? Chest-up – oh dear. Fan-Yun examined his bare chest and its lack of definition or any hint of masculine charm. That wouldn’t get the engines running for her this early, certainly.  She was a woman more for the minutia than the broad picture, after all.  She likely would ask him to keep that bird chest of his in its cage.

               Every possible way things could go wrong ran through Fan-Yun’s head while he roamed into his kitchen. He set up breakfast without sending the text. Egg whites and wheat bread was simple enough with a tall glass of orange juice and a mug of black coffee. Maybe he should send her a photograph of his breakfast? Show her what she was missing out on. Maybe she could come over for coffee?

               No – all bad moves. Fan-Yun sat at his table with one hand on the side of his forehead and the other using a fork to poke at his food. Minutes passed and breakfast ended, but his coffee was barely touched.

               His nails clattered on the glass surface of his table as he stared down at his phone.

               His gut was telling him saying ‘good morning, beautiful’ was too lame. Unoriginal. Uninteresting. What would a cooler guy say? What would Ken Masters say? ‘Hey babe’? Something to that effect? Calling her ‘babe’ so early after just one date was extremely assuming their level of affection.

               “Why is this so damn hard?!” Fan-Yun dropped his forehead to the table and exhaled slowly. He just needed her there in person. It was much easier to talk to her and know what kind of mood she was in. Maybe she stayed up a bit later after their date. Maybe she was still asleep. Maybe he was going to disturb her sleep!

               Whining in defeat, Fan-Yun took a shower, brushed his teeth, and dropped back in bed with his phone.

               “What am I going to do? Do I have to do backflips and send her a video of me playing a culturally appropriate song on the crwth? Or would that be …super-SUPER offensive? We’re friends. What if I come off as moving to swiftly?”

               He held his pillow over his face and kicked his feet around in a fit of frustration. If Moira could palpate his heart, she’d see it was in a constant flux of excitement palpitations. He was anxious to talk to her again, or just know that she still existed.

               He hit ‘send’ in a show of bravery. No picture attached. No video added. No emojis or smileys of any sort. It was a simple, friendly greeting.

               Yet somehow it was the most anxiety filled action he’d ever done in his adult life. He stared at the screen. There was no reply. He ruined it. She hated him.  She was probably going to block his number. She was going to laugh about how lame he was for calling her beautiful after one date! He just knew it!

               A minute passed. Two minutes. Three minutes. She was entirely disinterested, she couldn’t have been still asleep, or busy so early. He ruined it. He should have waited.

               Ping!

               A photograph was sent with a picture. Moira sent him a picture of her with her eyes barely opened and her fist pressed to her cheek. In the background a purple-skinned woman appeared to be threatening a laughing younger woman with a curling iron.

               “Good morning, Fan-Yun. Roommates woke me.”  

               All of the weight of the world flushed out of his soul. She was still responsive. He was just going off the rails again, of course!

               Ping!

               “Oh, and good morning, beautiful.”

               Moira sent another message with a winking smiling face on it.

               Fan-Yun may as well had hit the lottery, because his eyes were filled with joy and excitement over such a simple gesture. He rolled around on his bed excitedly and jumped around his room proclaiming how fantastic of a date he was. She called him beautiful. How many lucky guys got such an honor from such a woman? None other, he was sure.

               Though he paused mid-prance, and realized that his efforts would all be for naught if he didn’t respond with a super-amazing comeback.

               His thumbs tapped away at the keys. His tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth. His brows lowered with focus.

               “Big day ahead. Have to get ready for work, but I really can’t wait to talk to you later. Hope you have a great day!”

               He had to do it. He had to finish her with finesse.

               A winky face was added. He meant business. She wasn’t ready for that level of intensity to come back at her, he was sure. But she was throwing winky faces out, so he had to fight fire with fire. He had to let her know he was ready to take that next step in their game. When push came to shove, he wasn’t going to back down from a suggestive smile or emoji. He knew how to play these mindgames.

               PING!

               Immediately Fan-Yun cowered away from his phone. She was going to question his sly and sultry winking. He just knew it.

               “Long day ahead of me. I had a really great time last night. Hopefully we can talk in person much sooner.”

               Then she ended his whole world.

               There was a heart emoji thrown in after.

               Fan-Yun was defeated. Obliterated. Annihilated. She landed a first one knock out, and left him on his bedroom floor with hearts in his eyes. This was the real deal!

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: F.A.N.G. x MOIRA (2)

Now, its the first continued drabble!

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FvrKFmWCv0o

Character:   FANG (street fighter) and Moira (overwatch) Word of the Day:  Palpate (Minutia)

Definition:  to examine by touch especially medically.

Start Time:  4:47 PM<3/17/20> End Time:  5:30 PM <3/17/20> Final Word Count:   1,141

                 A faint clattering of cutlery and dishes filled the high-end restaurant. Married couples and businesspeople filled the majority of those in attendance. The live jazz band added an extra bit of ambiance to the location to make it a must-visit spot in the city. The finest of fine wines were uncorked here. The echoing pop and pour was always accompanied by a rich bout of laughter and giggles that topped off with a dainty toast.

               To a good night, good week, and great year. Each toast was distinct from the other. Though the house was packed tonight, there was plenty of space and intimacy for the couples in attendance.  The napkins were scrunched and set on top of saucers in a fancy design to sit beside the wine glasses and entrees that the couples ordered.  

               A fine red wine was poured into Moira’s glass. She elevated it by the thin stem to bring to her lips. Her red painted lips were curved in a pleased smile. Perhaps something funny had been said just moments prior.

               “So, I am sitting there hard at work,” Moira continued after she took a sip. “The poor bastard would not stop coming out of the deep sleep we put him in. I say to myself, ‘Moira? Would it be unprofessional to take your shoe off right here and clobber this poor bastard so you can gather your samples’? The third time, of course went swimmingly. Third time is always a charm. I’m Irish, I suppose I am closer to luck than most.”

               She and F.A.N.G. shared a laugh. The two of them were dressed similar, though Moira’s form fitting red pants suit was both slimming and complimentary to her overall fashion sense. The black turtleneck beneath it framed her pointed chin and face perfectly. Her date for the night wore a black Mandarin collared suit with violet embroidered designs like dragons over the right shoulder and the lower left side. His sunglasses and hat were discarded to show off his slicked back hair in a tightly bound ponytail.

               “Irish luck, is it?” F.A.N.G. chuckled, “Well, I suppose I need to thank my lucky stars for following the rainbow to this pot of gold I found.”

               “Please,” Moira scoffed. “You followed a rainbow to a damned banshee at best, F.A.N.G.”

               “Please,” F.A.N.G. retorted after a sip of his wine. “Call me Fan-Yan. No need for my more official title.”

               “I’ve earned a government name. Is this what trust tastes like?”

               “Is it sweet?”

               “Bitter,” Moira grinned. “But bitter doesn’t hide itself. Sweet on the other hand. It can mask many things, Fan-Yan. I’m not so much of a woman of the broader picture at all times. I always look at the minutia of things. Thus far you seem to be genuine. I don’t think we’ve spoken of business since we’ve sat.”

               “Is that a bad thing?” Fan-Yan leaned forward in his seat. “I mean, we’re the bad guys, aren’t we? Aren’t we entitled to having a little downtime and fun? All work and no play can make a dull date.”

               “Play?” Moira mused. “Don’t test your luck too much, Fan-Yun.”

               “Wh-what? Oh! Oh n-no, I didn’t mean--!”

               Moira snorted and broke into a fit of laughs. “You are so easy to fluster. It is nice. I see why some of my colleagues tease others so much, but…you’re fine, Fan-Yun. I am only teasing. But back to my story – I had to examine and palpate the area before I got my sample. His elbows were decomposing and healing at nearly the same rate with decomposition winning the race. I’d never seen a corrosive substance eat through a natural quick-healer like that before.”

               “I know of quite a few. I had the misfortune of having to deal with self-repair nanomachines in training drills. I developed a venom that grows stronger as it is resisted. Though it takes a long time to produce.”

               “You’ll have to show me your lab sometime.”

               “That is in my home, my dear.”

               “Then I’ll have to wait two more dates? You really are trying to hook me in, aren’t you?”

               “Here I thought I was in control, but you’re moving all the pieces ever so suggestively, Ms. O’deorain.”

               “Call me Moira. It’s what my friends do.”

               Without a witty retort to respond with, F.A.N.G. just smiled at her. A friend. An actual friend. Not someone competing for his spot or someone trying to belittle him before lord Bison. Not a work colleague, but a friend. Someone who’s company he enjoyed through and through. “Moira,” he said with his smile broadening. “Somehow that tastes sweeter than dessert was. Truth be told, I’ve not been one to have many friends. I’ve always been made to be the fool despite the shortcomings of those around me are far grander.”

               “I’ve been surrounded by fools most of my professional life. You do not seem to be one of them.”

               “What attracted you to your current line of work?” Fan-Yun asked while tending to the last of his pie sliced dessert.

               “Opportunity presented itself. Ground-breaking science and freedom to do whatever the hell I so pleased. Freedom, it is something you cannot buy on an honest wage. As chapfallen as that sounds, I’ve accepted it with a smile and haven’t looked back ever since. I’ve had so many breakthroughs that I’ve been able to save more lives than I could at a prior job.”

               “Living the dream, I would say.”

               “Yes, if the dream never stops twenty-four seven. Sadly, I am usually on call. Except for tonight. Silent phone.”

               “Likewise,” Fan-Yun chuckled. “I mostly had no choice but to join my current company. Now I am the only one left who knows how to run it. The others fled at the first sign of hardship.”

               “A man who stays despite challenges.” Moira leaned forward and crossed her legs. “Now that is a trait I could get used to. For what it’s worth, Fan-Yun, I think you are doing a good job.”

               “Thank you. I am short-staffed, but.” He shrugged.

               “I meant with this date,” she chuckled. “I have not had one of these in many years. Granted I did most of the talking. She just listened.”

               “Really? Well, shame on her. Lord Bison, he did all of the talking. It is no fun, really.”

               “Yet you still call him lord. Fan-Yun, honey, no-no. You have too much charm to go to waste on just listening. If he was here right now. If he was me,” Moira straightened her posture and took on a more serious face. “With all of his power and riches on display, what would you say to him right now on this date?”

               “So,” Fan-Yun squinted. “You’re paying for all of this, right?”                

               The two broke their expressions with a shared short bout of laughter.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: F.A.N.G. x MOIRA

The first crossover drabble I’ve done, I think!

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rNbc4GiNme8

Character:  F.A.N.G. (Street Fighter), and Moira (Overwatch) Word of the Day:  Minutia

Definition:  a minute or minor detail – usually used in plural.

Start Time:  3:57 PM <3/17/20> End Time:  4:25 PM<3/17/20> Final Word Count:   1,034

                 The fluttering of loose sleeves filled the hall like obnoxious bird wings on a giant beast. The footsteps that followed the flaps were far between; as if the walker was prancing their way down the steel corridor like a boasting peacock. Circular frames on the thin man’s eyes gave the world a wonderful shade of darkness in which he was constantly aiming to make a reality. Not for himself, but to see to it the will of his lord Bison was carried out. His true name was of no importance anymore, all that mattered was the fantastical, animalistic, nightmarish gentleman was known as F.A.N.G.

               The Shadaloo base of operations was in a constant flux. The members left in the organization were always scrambling to gather what little they had left of order. With no Balrog, no Sagat, and no Vega to fall back on, F.A.N.G. assumed the mantle as the King of Shadaloo in the absence of his lord. The base was small and stationed on a ship out at sea. He only had a handful of staff to run the ship and to fight if need be, but he pranced about with high-kneed steps as if he had a militia following his every step.

               “Yes, yes. I know. We all miss Lord Bison.” F.A.N.G. said to one of his escorts. “But no need to be ashamed. My plans are fool-proof! I have the most excellent idea to bring us back to prominence! Which is why I have precured this special meeting. I take it our guest has arrived?”

               “Sir,” the guard saluted. “The Talon representative will be waiting in your office, sir.”

               “My office?! Tell me he was instructed not to touch anything!” F.A.N.G. leaned over the guard. His lanky seven foot form cast a thick and cold shadow over him, especially with five clawed fingers dripping with violet acid aimed at his face.

               “Uh!” The soldier stammered. “They were instructed, yes! Beyond that door, sir!”

               “Maximillian better be worth the effort I am putting in. Lord Bison would be so proud of me, making this happen.” F.A.N.G.’s expression slipped back into a devious, yet excited grin.  He pranced forward to the steel double doors leading to his personal office on board the ship.  The doors were pushed open flamboyantly with F.A.N.G. making his startling entrance. “I am here, I do apologize for the wait. You know how it is, Max, was it? An Omnic as yourself certainly understands the life of busy men such as us. The women, try as they might to grasp our attention, just slow us down.”

               F.A.N.G. bowed while a tall and thin figure had their back to him. When he stood straight again, he adjusted his glasses and noted red-orange hair on top of his visitor’s head. “Here I thought Omnics were all bald. Pardon the observation, of course.”

               The person turned their head slightly and showed a metal plate on the side of their face. “Maximillian could not make this meeting,” she said while turning to face F.A.N.G. “I am Moira O’Deorian, a representative of Talon. Do you have a problem with women?”

               F.A.N.G. stood with his jaw agape. Words failed to leave him as a sensation of butterflies swelled his stomach and chest.

               “Amazing, you’re even more of a fool than we thought you would be. I am wasting my time.”

               “Oh! Nono! P-please, Ms. O’Deorian. Make yourself at home. It is Ms., right? Not Mrs.? I did not notice any wedding ring on you…fabulous hand.”

               “Not married,” Moira replied calmly. “We have business, F.A.N.G., if you are willing to prove your worth in the next five seconds.”

               The slender man folded his arms behind his back and tipped his chin up. “Why of course. Shadaloo wishes to organize an accord with Talon. Resources, information, and our forces for special missions. We will provide mutually beneficial information as it arrives. We also offer our safehouses as security for your most at-risk agents.”

               “By at-risk, you mean Reyes?”

               “Precisely,” F.A.N.G. tipped his head toward her. “He can stop getting hunted like a dog and finally get the treatment I suspect he needs. Shadaloo’s medical facilities are still top of the line, if not experimental.”

               “As is Talon’s. But many of our safehouses have been compromised as of late. We could use some of your information. Mainly on this nuisance Seth.”

               “Consider it provided.” F.A.N.G. shook hands with Moira and held her in a soft grip. “Though perhaps we should discuss some of the minutia of this forming alliance?”

               “Very well,” Moira released and took a step back with her elongated hands set before herself.

               “Are you free Saturday evening?” He asked boldly. “I know of a fantastic Italian-styled dining location on the mainland! You look like a woman who know’s her way around a fine glass of wine.”

               Moira stood rigidly. “Are you asking me on a date?”

               “I’m so sorry!” F.A.N.G. flailed his arms in the air. “I-I know it’s very unprofessional, and probably comes off entirely wrong! I am not trying to leverage my position for favors, Ms. O’Deorian! I just…you are…just so tall. And striking!”

               “And not looking.” Moira said firmly. “But, I happen to be free that day. Consider it a business dinner before we start trading information and facilities, Mr. F.A.N.G.”

               “Yippie!” He flailed his arms around above his head and wiggled his hips.

               “I am beginning to consider changing my mind entirely.”

               “Oh! Nonono! It’s fine! I’m just very excited, you see!” F.A.N.G. clattered his nails together. “In the beginning, I was only kidding. I am no womanizer. I thought it would be something to appeal to Max—”

               “Stop,” Moira held up a slim finger. “You are on your second impression. Consider it mercy from me. I will reward your forwardness with a single ‘date’, but I will not tolerate this showboating. Am I understood?”

               “Yes ma’am.” F.A.N.G. said quietly, then repeated it louder when Moira gazed at him sternly.

               “Good. We will be in touch, Mr. F.A.N.G.” Moira walked past him and exited into the hall. From there she was escorted by the Shadaloo guards back to her people so they could leave the ship safely and unharmed.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: JOHNNY CAGE

Everyone’s getting sick, I’m overworked, keep oversleeping, and I finally have a day off. Trying to get these done earlier but life keeps happening as well as stress. But I made it through the week. It was hard getting this far but I love the challenge. New set of words tomorrow.

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1EyM2jcBTW0

Character:  Johnny Cage Word of the Day:  Hoise (Ambidextrous, Retronym, Byzantine, Escapade, Devise, Chapfallen) Definition:  lift, raise; especially: to raise into a position by or as if by means of tackle.

Start Time:  11:58 PM End Time:  12:48 AM Final Word Count:   1,007

 “Yo-ho! Haul together! Hoise the colors high!” A young girl sang.

The film crew present moved back and forth at an accelerated pace. Large skulls and treasure chests were placed from production trucks and onto the set being built. There was a massive ship set that was completed, but the island of treasure it was parked against was being built on a Lot A in the new Cage Studios lot.

“The king and his men stole the queen from her bed, and bound her in her bones! The seas be ours and by the powers, where we will we’ll roam!” The blonde girl sang while holding up a clearly plastic sword overhead.

The crew had a good chuckle at the sight. The girl was no more than five years old.  She stood in the crow’s nest on the ship with a piratical man standing behind her. The man was dressed in a deep royal blue navy jacket from the 1800s with the word “JOHNNY” tattooed across his chest. The man ditched his pirate hat for a pair of sunglasses and a bright smile for his daughter’s enthusiasm for the film.

The set was crafted to perfection. Everything looked authentic, some were crew-made replicas from online searches and book references, but the crew did a fantastic job at crafting a byzantine-like feeling on the island with mosaic painting and gold-lined pathways from the ship to the island.

The film itself was going to be the first production under Johnny Cage’s new studio – and it was starring him as Captain Dreaman; a pirate captain who mastered every form of martial arts, but could only snap into an undefeatable martial artist when he was unconscious through means of alcohol, sleep, or being knocked out – his body activated on adrenaline and the presence of danger to match blows with any foe.

“Heave-ho! Thieves and beggars! Never shall we die!” Cassie sang on with her arm swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the song. The energy in her voice rang out over the set, and eventually the film crew, actors, and doubles chimed in with her.

“Now some have died and some are alive and others sail on the sea! With the keys to the cage--” “Hey!” Johnny called out over the singing.

The crew and Cassie continued, “And the devil to pay, we lay to Fiddler’s Green! Yo-ho! Haul together! Hoise the colors high! Yo-ho! Thieves and beggars, never shall we die!” The chorus went without a hitch, but soon broke down into laughter. It certainly brought joy to the busy workers. While no one was exactly chapfallen with their current work, it was never a bad thing to have some fun while breaking a sweat to meticulously building an imaginary world.

“You know, we should change this movie’s title.” Johnny said. “Captain Dreaman and his super amazing daughter versus the Furious Fifty. Your singing could put Dreaman in his ‘dream state’, Cass! We could probably write the character into this little escapade.”

“Really?” Cassie jumped up and down excitedly. “We can do that?”

“Don’t jump on the set, baby girl.” Johnny warned, “but yeah. Let’s climb down from here first and I’ll get my agents on the horn. Might be a sequel, but it has potential! You wanna be an action star like your old man?”

The girl’s giggles were all Johnny needed to keep pushing forward. Though Sonya was busier and busier these days, it was nice to let his child see the fun side of life. After they climbed safely down the provided set-stairs from the crow’s nest, Johnny picked up his daughter on his back for a ride around the set.

Sonya’s dedication to the Special Forces was admirable, but whenever she came home she always had a bad day at work. So much so that work and bad day became synonymous. Johnny barely even asked, and when he did Sonya replied with ‘work’. One-letter responses were always healthy for any relationship. When she had a worse day – that was when ‘worse day’ became a retronym for work.

“Alright, hot shot,” Johnny placed his daughter down near the catering tables. There was a whole section with nothing but sweets and cookies. Especially for his daughter. “We need to figure out a super cool thing for your character. Like besides singing?”

“Ninja!” Cassie hopped around again.

“Ninja? Like Sub-Zero?” Johnny paused. “Oh – he’s not a ninja. As Snow Miser would say, ‘I am not a ninja. I am Lin Kuei! Scorpion was a ninja’!” Johnny placed his fist over his chest and did his best to mimic the gruff and serious tone of the Grandmaster and his friend.

“He is more grumpy!” Cass said after taking a cookie in each hand.

“Whoa—stop right there Cassie.” Johnny stepped back and made a rectangle between his forefinger and thumb on each hand. He ‘framed’ Cassie as if watching through a camera lens. “Ambidextrous kick-ass pirate kid with two swords – or two guns! Hell yeah!”

“Kick-ass pirate girl!” Cassie repeated.

“Oh shit—no no. Don’t say that word?”

“Pirate girl?”

“No, kick-ass.”

“But you said it, daddy.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Twice!”

“I won’t say it again. Promise.”

“Maybe I should tell mommy.” She grinned.

Johnny exhaled slowly through his nostrils. “Alright, kiddo. Suddenly all of these cookies are yours! Is that what you were after?”

“It’s a pirate’s life!” Cassie scooped up another cookie, proud of her little extorsion of her father. It probably didn’t take her that long to devise a plan, given how much Johnny was afraid of Sonya’s strict no-swearing rule around the house. When she made her occasional return home.

“Kids,” Cage sighed. “Gotta love em. So, come walk with your old man. I’ll start on the calls to try and work the character in or at least set up sequel bait.”

“Sequel bait?” Cassie asked mid-chew.

“I’ve got this killer idea,” Cage went on. “When the credits start rolling? We’ll cut to an additional scene to set up a sequel!”

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: DANTE & VERGIL

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://youtu.be/guczBPpty1E

Character:  Dante & Vergil Word of the Day:  Ambidextrous (Retronym, Byzantine, Escapade, Devise, Chapfallen) Definition:  a. using both hands with equal ease or dexterity.

Start Time:  11:58 PM End Time:  12: 41 AM Final Word Count:  1,037

 Tornadic winds came and went with razor-blade gusts. Plants and stones were severed and left in small chunks on the ground of the byzantine ruins the two brothers did battle on. Dante and Vergil – the twin sons of Sparda were more often than not seen engaged in bloody combat that put their bodies and the thin line between a friendly bout and a fierce deathmatch to its limits.

 Their feet worked in unison despite their opposition. Their clashes were skilled and wild, distant and close all at the same time. Once their swords clashed together and their feet stopped, the ruins around them collapsed into several dozen chunks.

 “Phew! Almost had me there!” Dante chuckled.

 “That was bait,” Vergil replied calmly. “but you knew that already.”

 “Gotta devise a better plan if you’re gonna break this tie, Vergil!” Dante shoved his brother away and the two slid across the gold-trimmed stone floor of the ruins they’d stumbled into. Dante placed his sword at his back and resorted to his mis-matched guns to attack Vergil, but each shout was blocked by windmill-like movements from Vergil and his Yamato.

 After Vergil’s recent escapade under the guise of Urizen as well as “V”, thing between the brothers had been patched up, albiet forcefully by circumstance, and by Vergil’s son. There was no frown present in the fight, as meeting the challenge of an evenly skilled opponent had the human and demonic blood in the brothers pumping a mile-a-minute.

 Vergil paused once Dante returned to his sword. He held his hand up to signal to him that he wasn’t going to retaliate. “Time limit,” Vergil said with a tired breath. “Daylight is starting down here. So, that means…--”

 “Another tie,” Dante sighed in annoyance and kicked at the ground. “Alright. So, at some point we’re going to need to consider eating some food. Hopefully, none of that damn demon fruit stuff that makes you wanna turn into an eyeball monster. Seen enough shit in my day already.”

 “Food would be nice,” Vergil sheathed his katana and took a look around their surroundings. “Just none of that garbage pizza.”

 “Don’t think they do underworld delivery. Yet at least. Could be a business I start once I get back.”

 “What if we never return? I rather like it down here. It was father’s home, after all.”

 “Yeah-yeah, I know. I take it you’re fonder of places where you get your ass whipped, huh?”

 “What you need in your life, Dante, is a good steak.”

“And here goes.”

 “Well-Done, with a moderate application of sauce.”

 “Total waste of meat, brother,” Dante shelved his sword on his shoulder and walked past Vergil. “Then again, I’m more of a Philly Cheese guy than steakhouse.”

 “Now I am actually hungry.” Vergil followed his brother shortly after. Their coats had tears all over them. They both looked beaten to hell, but still walked as if in perfect health. So, story time is in order I suppose. Mary and Trish seem to be a handful.”

 “Good thing I’m ambidextrous, right?”

 “Hardly,” Vergil narrowed his eyes. “What is your relationship with them? No secret children of your own?”

 “Our relationship is strictly business. Her name’s ‘Lady’ now. She’ll hate it if you call her Mary. I can get away with it sometimes. Usually when she needs to know I’m being serious. Trish is a good partner, though she’s pretty heavy on the cosplay these days.”

 “I am sensing a shift in tone when you speak of Mary,” Vergil added as they walked along the chapfallen hellscape side-by-side. “What has happened there?”

 “We’re comfort buddies.” Dante added with a slight hesitation. “She crashes at my place sometimes. We eat together, sleep side-by-side, and sometimes she shakes me down for my half of the shop’s rent. Comfort buddies.”

 “So, you are going to wait until she is an elderly woman to confess your feelings. Noted,” Vergil exhaled, “her name is Katherine. ‘Kat’ for short. We met in Fortuna.”

 “Oh crap, are you about to give me a Penthouse story?!” Dante paused and looked at his brother with wide eyes.

 “We liked one another. Genuinely.”

 “Like-like, or liked?”

 “Like-like is not a retronym. Stop trying to make it happen.” Vergil said between gritting teeth. “Kat and I had made plans to see each other again. But instead of returning to her with the power I needed, she was left alone and with child. I believe I was owed a lifetime’s worth of a pain for my failure. It was served up piping hot as expected.”

 “Nero doesn’t talk much about his mother. The only thing I know is that she wasn’t around. He was with Credo and Kyrie – his girlfriend. Jus knowing his mother’s name could do the kid some good. Knowing anything about where he came from would likely do him some good.”

 “There wasn’t much room for talking, but there soon will be.” Vergil said as he and Dante reached the top of a hill overlooking more wasteland. “Katherine wasn’t exactly a regular human. She practiced and excelled at witchcraft. A Wiccan since birth.”

 “This is the least-sexiest story,” Dante said as he plopped down to sit on the hill. “I’ve ever heard. I was expectin’ some wild banging by now. Maybe something about creative uses of the Yamato.”

 “Classy.” Vergil crouched down beside him and looked over the wasteland. “I can see how father fell in love. It’s easy. Even at my darkest, she was always there in my mind. Anything to protect her. Now, anything to find her.”

 “You and Nero sure like your extremes.” Dante chuckled. “Fortunately, I know exactly where my girl is. And she’s going to kill my ass when I don’t return with her weapon. So, why don’t we just go back to Earth? You know the way, don’t you?”

 “Before, I followed the cry of Yamato. Today? I simply wish to clear the noise in my head. Maybe tomorrow we’ll go back. It’s been a while--.”

 “—and I’m hungry.” Dante completed his brother’s sentence. The two shared a laugh together as they watched light touch the distant land of the underworld. After a rest, it was right back to their match.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: LARA CROFT

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used: https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fIWLT0QVPzw

Character: Lara Croft Word of the Day:  Retronym (Byzantine, Escapade, Devise, Chapfallen) Definition:  a term (such as analog watch, film camera, or snail mail) that is newly created and adopted to distinguish the original or older version ,form, or example of something (such as a product) from other, more recent versions, forms, or examples.

Start Time: 11:31 PM End Time:  12:04 AM Final Word Count:  974

“Isn’t it wonderful, Jonah?”

Lara said with cheer and honey on her tone. She sat beside her now long-time companion out for lunch. They were seated outside under an umbrella with several other patrons on the boardwalk-side of a restaurant. Many couples were in attendance, some with their children, but Lara was lost within the pages of a book rather than the scenery.

“This book could be the key to discovering many lost treasures. Well,” she shrugged, “it could all just be an elaborate fairy tale, but it is very accurate about my past findings. To think a book this old is still in good condition. I absolutely have to check some of these out.”

Jonah, Lara’s companion was a larger man of a slightly darker skin tone. While he was enjoying his toasted sandwich for lunch he glanced over at what Lara was looking at, then he glanced over the others in attendance. Most couples were seated facing one another, but Lara insisted they sit side-by-side to make sharing the visuals of the book easier.

“We have an escapade to a distant tomb lined in silver and gold.” Lara said as she set her book down. “Where the curse of Mamuzet the Monster Goddess awaits! Who will be the first poor, unfortunate soul to step foot in a newly awakened Mamuzet’s lair?!” Lara curled her fingers like claws or fangs near her mouth.

“Lara, please. Mamuzet isn’t even an actual thing.” Jonah said calmly.

“Mamuzet is out for your blood! Reow!”

“Did you just meow?”

“Mamuzet does now meow!”

“Lara, you’re scaring me.”

The young woman pinched at Jonah’s neck lightly with her ‘clawed hand. “Oh no! Lara Croft’s trusty side-kick has been bitten! He too will become a Mamuzet! Unless he can reach his elixir in time!”

“No, not my lemonade. Lara—If you knock over my lemonade I’m going to actually throw a fit.”

“The Mamuzet craze has taken Jonah! With his French fries!”

Jonah’s expression cracked into a large smile as he nudged Lara’s side. “Alright, alright! I’m paying attention okay? Is this Mamuzet thing actually in your book, or what’s going on?”

Lara teased at stealing a French fry, but went back to the aged leather-bound book. “It is not. Just a random word that came to mind. This tomb, however is in the Amazon. The one I am decoding, now. I’ll have to devise a plan and schedule a trip for us to go there. It shouldn’t be too dangerous.”

“Too dangerous.” Jonah teased.

“Looking into this tomb shouldn’t be too difficult either.”

“Too difficult.”

“The natives probably have a funky ghost story and a tour. That is all I need. It certainly will beat the chapfallen streets of London this time of year. I’d trade another dull day in for Byzantine structures and towering Greek pillars any day. Especially with you, my friend. You are the only one who seems to understand me. We need more slightly less-dangerous adventures.”

“Slightly less-dangerous adventures. Isn’t that a retronym? I think, by default, all the places we’ve visited together has somehow ended with a world-ending prophecy and me getting my ass kicked by a bunch of ‘true believers’. Slightly less dangerous will probably be me getting my ass kicked by a bunch of teenaged ‘true believers’. They hit slightly less harder.”

“Oh come now, it isn’t always that bad?” Lara paused to look at Jonah with raised eyebrows. “Is it?”

“Name one time in the last six months that you didn’t have to save my life.”

“What? Save your life? I haven’t had to do such that oft…-“ Lara’s lips pressed together as she looked aside. “Bloody hell, you’re right. Should I just go alone then? I mean, you seem to be a magnet for trouble, Jonah.”

“No way I’m letting you go alone, Lara, you’re stuck with me for a long while. Pretty sure I owe Mommy-zett a rematch. Wouldn’t forgive myself if she got you out there in the wild.”

“Mamuzet!” Lara corrected with a laugh shared with Jonah. She leaned her shoulder to his larger frame and finally paid attention to her lunch. It was nice, being out and about with other people instead of the quiet memory of history’s past surrounding her. Out in the world with someone she trusted with every fiber of her being.

Sometimes, she never understood why Jonah followed her into the fires she ran into, and possibly started herself. Though each time he was in trouble, she dove out of the fire and into Hell itself to bring him to safety.

In her absent-minded ways, Lara often forgot about holidays unless she’d been particularly stationary that year. Jonah hadn’t missed a single birthday since they’d become friends. She felt terrible if his ever passed by, but she always made it up to him – like now, going out for lunch together.

It wasn’t hard to imagine such a thing becoming the norm. The greatest adventures were never taken alone, and the great unknown of a family life always passed by her line of sight. To be a life companion, a mother, a wife. Who could she ever trust enough to be that way for?  Who could she ever expect to understand her life was in constant motion?

She paused to look over at Jonah as they ate. He seemed to be watching everyone else here and there. Though a moment came where both of them stopped to watch one another.

Lara smiled. Seeing him in good health, especially after recent events put her heart at ease. He understood her life on the move better than anyone else. She could have a compass, a map, GPS, a flashlight, and crystal ball, and still be lost without him.

“We’d be a weird couple, don’t you think, Jonah?”

Immediately the man choked on his drink.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: JACK SPARROW

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QFLeTga9CN0

Character:  Captain Jack Sparrow Word of the Day:  Byzantine (Escapade, Devise, Chapfallen) Definition:  1: of, relating to, or characteristic of the ancient city of Byzantium. 2. Architecture; of, relating to, or having the characteristics of a style of architecture developed in the Byzantine Empire especially in the fifth and sixth centuries featuring the dome carried on pendentives over a square and incrustation with marble veneering and with colored mosaics on grounds of gold. 3.  Christianity; of or relating to the churches using a traditional Greek rite and subject to Eastern canon law. 4. Often not capitalized. a: of, relating to, or characterized by a devious and usually surreptitious manner of operation. b : intricately involved; labyrinthine.

Start Time:  11:37 PM End Time:  12:08 AM Final Word Count:  1,105

  “Legend has it, you can hear the bones cracking when they change,” one of the sailors said as they looked over the pitch black waters in the still of night. They were just outside of a small island in the middle of nowhere with only the pale moonlight  and stars to contrast the ink black below and above. “Werepeople. Some change from sheep, from dogs, and even wolves.”

“Werewolves--,” another, skinnier sailor choked up on his words. “Legend has it that if you’re bitten by a werewolf, ye become one yaself!”

“That’s not werewolves, ya big idiot! Thems Damn-pires!”

“Vampires,” Jack said after his boots clunked over the surface of the equally dark-as-night ship he was on board. “Dhampires are only a smidgeon human. Once bitten by a vampire, you unfortunate soul, are at the mercy of one or two options. Number one!” Jack walked as if clouds were beneath his feet, as well as a thin, shaky sheet of ice. He was drunk. “You die a slow death, or – alternatively – you die and are reborn into the undead as a nigh-killable, bloodthirsty vampire. Feasting on the bosom of the most buxom wenches for all eternity.”

“Bosom?” A sailor called out. “Vampires bite necks, Cap’n!”

Jack paused. His eyes went round for a moment and his lips sunk into a brief frown. He turned to address the sailor with a polite smile and an extremely off-balanced gait. “Neck, bosom, it’s my bloody undead choice. Now! We are on location…I will be heading out to find my treasure and you filthy lot will wait and guard the ship from Werewolves.”

“Wait on the ship?!” One of the men called out. “I signed up for the action!”

Jack turned to address yet another sailor with an accusing finger pointed with a limped wrist. “You singed onto this escapade to sail with the great Captain Jack Sparrow, and here we are! On the black island, on the black waters, in the black of night, and the only man who knows how to navigate these waters and this island safely is standing before you ready and willing to make this trip a short one, savvy? So,  will take my pistol, my silver bullet, and I will bring you gentlemen riches beyond your wildest scummy dreams.”

“So, what is this treasure again?” One of the older, and much dirtier sailors spoke up. “Is it somethin’ that can get me new teeth?”

“The treasure of the Black Golem,” Jack explained. “Lost at sea under Captain Meathook himself. That is until he found it again, and buried it where no navy could ever safely retrieve it. Sadly, he came down with a savage case of the piles and was unable to ever go back to sea again. I’ve tracked this treasure half of my life and I devised this plan entirely sober and full-witted. A single coin is this treasure. The oldest coin in the history of this world.”

“Well, on with ya then!” The men all said together once the ship pulled up to the shore of the black island.

Jack climbed off safely and ambled into the thick of the forest before him. The trees were all vibrant and green when light touched them, but otherwise it was pitch black. The torch that Jack brought to light his way helped him trace over the muddy paths that lay before him.

There were overturned pillars, runes, and ruins scatted throughout the area. They led into a domed temple with byzantine structure and painted walls just a few meters out from his location. He ducked inside of a low entrance and was met with the stale stench of old bread and cheese that made him retch.

There were claw marks along the interior of the temple, and a clear sign of mutilated prey just outside. Jack knocked on the wall twice as he got deeper inside the small temple.

A low growl was given in return in the darkness.

Though the beast sounded mighty, Jack replied calmly. “I delivered on my promise yet again.” He lowered his torch and held his hands up defensively. He stood very slowly and reached inside of his coat to bring out a large bottle of rum. “Just like you asked. This should last you for the endurance of your curse.

The twelve-foot wolf stomped out from its hiding spot and snarled down at Jack. Her torn dress was strewn across her black-furred frame as she snatched the bottle from him. In return, a single coin was dropped at Jack’s feet from her drooling maw.

“Thank you,” Jack said as he delicately pinched the drool-covered coin from the ground. Sloppy strands of saliva kept it linked to the floor til he swung it and brushed it off against his coat. “Despite your rather chapfallen appearance, you seem to be in high spirits, Maria.”

The female werewolf growled again, seeming to be incapable of speech.

“Your father’s curse is potent, but I did promise to not leave you hanging on my account, so…I have to give this coin to these men to keep them dumb enough to keep bringing me back here. Just one last time. Then I’ll miraculously ‘rescue’ you. A hero’s welcome. Not bad for a bloody pirate, ay?”

Maria just barked at Jack while setting the bottle of rum down on a makeshift table she’d thrown together out of broken pillars.

“Right then,” Jack cleared his throat. “So, let’s just finish this like we practiced before and I shall be on my way. Then I will be back to ‘save’ you from this forsaken island..., so you can then live up to your end of the bargain, and show me where your father hid his secret to the golden city, aye?”

Jack pulled back the hammer of his pistol and aimed it far away from Maria.

There was a gunshot. Then a loud howl of ‘pain’ deep within the island.

The sailors saw movement in the trees and bushes. Jack came running out at full speed with one hand on his hat and the other clutching a slobbery coin the size of his palm. “Go-go-go!” Jack screamed out as he hopped onto the side of the ship and climbed a rope onto the deck. The crew scrambled having heard the wolf call out. If it wasn’t dead, it was going to be angry.

There was an angrier howl in the distance as the ship took back to the waters with Jack at the wheel. As the crew settled down once they were a good distance away, Jack popped his compass open to guide him.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE - SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

*overslept, had to write late. Had distractions at this time of night. 

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O-Nc_akWEo0

Character:  Sonic The Hedgehog Word of the Day:  Escapade (Devise,Chapfallen) Definition:  a usually adventurous action that runs counter to approved or conventional conduct. Start Time:  11:37 PM End Time:  12: 25 AM Final Word Count:  1,450

  The scent of palm trees and pineapples whipped past the flared nostrils of the fastest moving creature alive. His feet were all but a red blur; they moved so swiftly over the damp grass and mud that there was barely an imprint of his feet left behind. The radiant island, even in the early hours were the exact opposite of being chapfallen; they were bursting with beauty and positivity. Corners were turned and cut in an instant with minimal friction to slow down the creature. If it was on the hunt, the prey was in for a futile attempt to save itself, but luckily for the rest of the world, this creature was no predator.  

In his youth his arms swung back and forth when he got a good running start, but these days the blurry hedgehog let his arms drag through the wind while his feet gave physics a lesson in his abilities. The checkerboard patterned brown turf and stones were glossed over with ease, despite the fact the surface crumbled two seconds after he’d passed over and dashed through another strip of greenery. The light mist along the gras cleared out when he zipped through, and made the fruit and vegetables easier to spot for smaller creatures looking for food.

This was the feeling of freedom Sonic longed for every day. It was just him and the world at large. The world he protected with his speed of movement and speed of wit, which the later was much to his enemies’ dislike.  A good morning run got his muscles stretched, and he’d certainly be home in time for breakfast, despite being practically halfway across the entire Green Hill area.

He stopped at a small group of sunflowers along his path.

“Oh, I knew I was forgetting something,” Sonic said while walking off the road to the sunflowers. The dust he’d kicked up ripped past him on the road moments after he’d finished running. The force he put out had to catch-up to him after all.

“Let’s see. What did Amy put on this list again?” Sonic drew a slip of paper from his left glove and began the tedious process of unfolding it. His brows lowered when he began examining the list of items he was to bring back for her. “Daisies, tulips, sunflowers, yadayada…,” he squinted and looked closer. “Wait, ‘yadayada’ isn’t a thing! Did she think I wasn’t going to pay attention?” He tapped the paper with the back of his left glove in mild annoyance. Still, it made him chuckle. “But at least it’s easy to remember. Now, how many did I need?”

Sonic was to bring back three of each flower type for her. It was for preparations for the Spring festival and she needed a prototype for the flower baskets everyone was going to get as a prize for some of the games. Sounded fun enough to Sonic, so it became part of his morning run – when he remembered, at least.

“So, the sunflowers are here. Where are the daisies and tulips?” He paced around for a moment to devise a plan and returned to the road. “It’ll be easier if I just snag them all on the way back.  So—” He drew a deep line in the dirt with his shoe and dug his shoeprint into the ground to mark his spot.

Off he went again, further into the world. On occasion he’d glance to his left and right to quickly examine flowers as he passed by. There were sunflowers almost at every turn.

Once he passed over a bridge he entered a new zone of Green Hill that was full of more tunnels and passages than open road. Naturally, Sonic took the nearest chute down into the ground and ran along the lower regions of the zone to explore.

He scaled up short hills and slopes to rush his way to a patch of flowers just behind a waterfall. “Tulips! A whole lot of them too. But still no daisies.” He crouched down and brushed his glove over one of the delicate flowers and spoke with a Southern-like drawl. “You’re no daisy,” he quoted Doc Holiday, “you’re no daisy at all!”

Amused with himself, Sonic stood and stepped back a safe distance from the patch of flowers. Once again he carved a line in the nearby dirt and dug his foot in to mark his spot. Off he went down the road with ever-searching eyes. He dipped and dove through tunnel after tunnel, back-tracking and re-tracking tunnels and only found tulips.

The area was a bust, so Sonic moved on.  He ran until he searched every corner of the island. The clouds gathered above. The air became slightly cooler. The scent of rain hit Sonic’s nostrils nearly a full minute before it started to come down.

“Big yikes,” Sonic said as he focused on the sky briefly. “So, guess I’ll stop jogging. Not bringing back soaked flowers and track mud everywhere!” Sonic’s feet smacked the pavement in a flurry of tornadic red as rain left the clouds.

He stopped at a patch of daisies at the far-left corner of the island. “Oh, sweet! There you are!” He crouched down to pluck three daisies from the flower patch he found. He looked up to see that the rain drops were about a meter out from the clouds above him. “So…straight shoot, turn, turn, straight…” He backtracked in his mind before he crouched down and took off running back the way he came.

The rain got closer. He dipped and dove through the hills and rushed town a tunnel to snag three tulips up on his way through the underground patch. Back up into the rolling hills, passages, and platforms, Sonic’s feet beat against the bridge boards.

The rain was just overhead now. Sonic didn’t quite remember putting this much effort into his speed since he stopped Robotnik’s last escapade.

The sunflowers were in sight. One was snagged from a nearby patch. Then a second one about one hundred yards out, then finally the third one at the exact place he marked his spot at.

“There we go!” Sonic celebrated as the raindrops were just over the top of his head.  The ground behind him was hit with rain, but he ran away from it as if the world was crumbling behind him. Not once did he look back, he was focused on what was ahead of him at all times – just like he handled most situations.

Once the rain caught up with him by coming down at an uneven rate, Sonic rushed between the raindrops at an accelerated rate. He calculated the driest path before the drops left his line of sight, and zig-zagged around and ducked under passages that would have otherwise been entirely soaked in rain.

There was a tunnel up ahead. Sonic gunned for it with laser-focus and ran through it with the sound of rain beating against the outside world. “It’s really coming down,” he said while listening to the beating rain behind him. “Hopefully it doesn’t get too bad. Didn’t even get to finish my laps…”

Once he exited the tunnel, it was a straight shoot back to town and to his friends. He stopped in front of Amy’s place with flowers in his arms. “So, special delivery!”

“Already?” Amy said with a confused blink.

“Yeah, I figured I wouldn’t waste any time. Got it all on my morning run!”

“Sonic,” Amy laughed lightly. “I just gave you that list for tomorrow. I’m not making the prize basket prototype until then. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“What? Me? Of course I was!” He grinned. “How else would I get your exact order so perfectly?”

“Did you get the Yadayada?”

“That was a good one, by the way.  I caught it!”

“Sonic, you don’t have the Yadayada.” Amy said flatly.

“Wait, that’s a real thing? I thought you were seeing if I was paying attention!”

“It’s a fairly common flower in Northwest Green Hill,” Amy explained. “It’s pink with a blue stem. Very hard to miss.”

Sonic’s eyes nearly closed with how deeply he squinted at Amy. “Alright, I’ll go grab that after the rainstorm.”

“Rainstorm?”

“Oh, it’s gonna start raining in a few seconds,” he said as he handed over the flowers to her. “Alright! Heading out for the Yadayada! I’ll be back, better get inside!”

Before Amy could respond, Sonic was off again. A single raindrop fell on the top of her head and he was right back at her side with three of the Yadayada flowers in his arms.

“Next time,” Sonic sighed. “Warn me that there’s so many sinkholes in that area, will you?”

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: BARRET WALLACE

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myrnLEuRrRU

Character:  Barret Wallace Word of the Day:  Devise (Chapfallen) Definition: 1. a: to form in the mind by new combinations or applications of ideas or principles: invent. b: to plan or obtain or bring about :plot c: to give (real estate) by will. Start Time:  8:10 PM End Time:  8:41 Final Word Count:  1,111

 Rust lined every metal inch of the Sector Seven Slums. There was a heavy scent of musk, cigarette smoke, smog, and gunpowder in the air almost everywhere citizens turned. The ‘skies’ were always grey, as anyone looking to the stars to dream of worlds beyond were instead greeted with the inner guts of the upper plates. The bustling metropolis of all of the upper plate regions were in stark comparison to the more desolate area beneath the ‘rotting pizza’ as it was so elegantly coined. The triangular sections of the other sectors had their own problems, but the seventh sector was one of great turmoil.

The dirt road leading to the local tavern, the Seventh Heaven Bar, was well traveled. Footprints in the dirt came and went so much that the road seemed to have been pounded into an uncomfortable and lumpy path that barely mushed beneath the boots of patrons. In the early hours of the morning, long before sunrise, the bar was closed and devoid of customers. However, below, the tavern’s floor there was a meeting taking place.

THUMP!

Barret Wallace, a former miner-turned-revenge-fueled-revolutionary, demanded respect whenever he called meetings via angry outburst and passionate speeches. “Look!” Barret shouted at his crew. “We need to think big. Nobody ever succeeded sittin’ around on their asses! C’mon, one of you ought to have a decent plan!”

“We could cobble together some gil and hire a mercenary,” Biggs, the lean-built but athletic man said.

“That’s stupid!” Barret barked back. “What mercenary would work for what we got to spare, huh? Any other bright ideas?”

“We could pose as Shinra MPs,” Wedge, the roundest member of the group spoke up, “break into the headquarters and kidnap President Shinra’s daughter!”

“Wait, King Vermin has a daughter?” Barret said to Wedge with narrowed eyes.

“I mean, it was never proven in the tabloids.”

“You gettin’ big ideas from tabloids? Wedge!” Barret slammed his fist on his desk harder than prior. “All that’s gonna do is get us killed goin’ on bad information! Where the hell’s Jess?”

“She had a headache,” Biggs shrugged. “Something about schematics for a bomb being a bit more complex than she hoped.”

“Now that’s an idea if I ever heard one. Good ol’ Jess pullin’ through even in absence. But for that kinda work, we really need to devise a fool-proof plan. We’ll need strong back-up. I could maybe ask Tif’ if she’s up to it.”

“You crazy?” Wedge stepped forward, and immediately stepped back in fear of alerting Barret. “Someone needs to be here for Marlene. Someone who can provide us with a good alibi. Where would we even plant this thing? Shinra HQ? That is if Jess can even make it. She mentioned something about finding out how to build one online…”

“She looked ONLINE for that sorta thing?!” Barret held the side of his head. “What kind’a dumb shit is that?! The lot of you are gonna get us all killed with that kind of trackable move! Let’s just pray to the planet that no one paid attention. But no – Shinra HQ isn’t what I’m thinking about. It might take a few months to get what we need, but I got a big target in mind.”

Biggs leaned against a wall and stared over at Wedge and Barret with his lips flattened. “So are we going to blow up the local theater to get Loveless out? I hear Shinra board of directors sometimes attend shows. We could probably disguise ourselves as bus boys and snag one of them for ransom.”

“There ain’t gonna be any kind of ransom,” Barret said coldly. “I don’t plan on lettin’ any of these vermin get away. Not one. Especially Scarlet.”

Wedge butted in with a shaky voice, “Y-you two have uh, history?” “Yeah, you can say that.” Barret replied.

“So, you and Scarlet were a thing or--?”

“What?!”

“I mean were you two like…doing things together that couples do? Not judging! It was a different time in the past I’m sure!”

“You lost your damn mind?!” Barret shouted, “I had a wife. Scarlet and the pack of rat she run with took her from me.” He stepped away from his desk and stood before his punching bag. Barret’s left hand usually gave the bag hell with every strike, and today was no exception. “I think the theater is outta the question. I say we cripple them like they’re tryin’ to cripple us. Aim high for the biggest payoff!”

Biggs tilted his head up. “Aim big? Payoff? What’s on your mind, Barret?”

Barret continued to slug away at the heavy bag. Each impact left a temporary dimple in the red surface before the material inside reformed it into a perfect cylinder.  If his left hand hit a human person, their jaw would most certainly be chapfallen.  “I say we hit the Mako Reactor. One of ‘em, I mean. We hit Shinra where their money is, and we let them know we mean business. I can’t remember a time where anybody attacked Shinra where it hurt! Always been targeted fights and attempts that always fail! This one hasn’t. Not yet!”

“Hit a reactor?” Wedge tensed up. “That’s pretty huge, Baret. Won’t that wipe out power for the whole sector its on?”

“Better for ‘em!” Barret punched the heavy bag again, and again. “We will call this operation purge! Gonna need a lot heavier guns than what I got. Maybe we should hire a mercenary!”

Biggs and Wedge both glared at Barret, then looked at each other in total agreeance.

“Yeah, Barret.” Biggs said with his eyes rolling. “That is a totally brilliant idea. Sure can’t wait.”

“Ha-ha!” Barret cackled loudly. “I’m a man of many, many ideas, son! Try n’ keep up!”

After finishing with the heavy bag, Barret turned to face the two men still in attendance. “We’re Avalanche. We attack swiftly, and oppressively against our oppressors. We take this blood-suckin’ leech out of the planet’s hair and we’ll be doin’ good! Just imagine; the planet devoid of Mako reactors, and all the green grass would return outside the city. Every day would feel like Spring for once. If we can take out just this one, we’ll go down in history as people who sparked change! Or, we can jus’ keep goin’ til its us verses Shinra himself! You two in?!”

“Of course, Mr. Wallace!” Wedge gave a hasty salute.

“You can count me in,” Biggs gave Barret a thumbs up in reply. “Just don’t get us killed in the process, Barret.”

“Oh!” Barret stiffened. “Maybe we can hire a merc!”

“Wow.” Biggs said with a heavy sigh. “Just wow. Brilliant idea.”

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iGx5a1ifSDs

 Character:  Batman/ Bruce Wayne Word of the Day:  Chapfallen Definition: 1. Having the lower jaw hanging loosely. 2. Cast down in spirit: depressed Start Time: 3:31 PM End Time:  4:08 PM Final Word Count: 1,013

“How many are there?”

               Bruce’s voice was hushed over the Bluetooth communications line as he snuck through the blacked-out rafters of the basketball arena.

“I count six.” Barbara – Oracle said on the other end of the line. “Armed and dangerous. They only have one hostage, Batman. They--.”

“Seven,” Bruce corrected. “There’s a trail of blood leading to the locker rooms. The hostage must have gotten feisty with one of the attackers and broke their nose.”

“That sounds about right for him,” Babs added. “Be careful, Bruce. Those rifles they have are Wayne tech. They may not pierce your armor from a distance, but they will knock you on your Bat-ass if you’re not smart about this.”

“Not everything is about branding, Oracle.  The ‘Bat-Ass’ dies here in this conversation.”

“I’ll watch my Bat-Mouth next time, Bat-Dad.”

               Bruce shook his head and hunkered down on the rafter beam he perched on. The men were scattered out. They were waiting on the police to arrive to meet with their demands of the star basketball player’s well-being. DeMarcus Queens was an up and coming star with mafia ties to his family. It seemed some goons wanted to collect on him, but the GCPD recently collected a stash from the mob and kept it in holding. It seems these men wanted it back.

There were two walking the parameter of the court. One patrolling the tunnel entrance and one the other visible three had the hostage bound and gagged to a desk chair. DeMarcus was battered and bruised, possibly suffering a concussion after being pistol whipped thoroughly. It wasn’t looking good at all.

Batman’s feet snuck along the beam and jumped to the next to get a better vantage point. What was his play? Attacking the parameter in such an open space would alert those who could see their comrades getting taken down. The hostage could be dead in seconds. Attacking the core of the group – the three men would disable such a sudden death, but there was a fifty-percent chance that Bruce wouldn’t be able to shield or protect the hostage in time from the men on the outside of the parameter. Visibility was his enemy, but his weapon so high up in the dark rafters. The only lights on were those that shined down on the court in minimal numbers to illuminate the hostage and the men.

Bruce tapped his utility belt and drew a single pellet. He activated it and threw it to the far left of the court. It landed in the out of bounds area facing away from him. On contact, the pellet generated a plume of smoke.

“What’s that?!” The leader of the men shouted. They turned their guns to the smoke pellet.

CLINK!

A woosh of air went by above.

A set of batarangs smashed into the visible lights and disabled them with an electric pulse of some nature. The lights were out. Gunshots rang before Bruce’s feet hit pavement. The muzzle flashes showed rapidly flickering peeks at a Bat symbol across an armored chest that moved through the darkness. Bruce attacked from behind – takedown after takedown until his armored forearm smashed across the face of an attacker.

He leapt through the air, and was once again lit up by flashing lights as he came down on one of the parameter attackers. Gunfire was sent his way from his right. He snatched the gun of the unconscious kidnapper and fired at the ceiling which in turn re-directed the other blinded shooters to aim up, assuming their ‘partner’ had visual on the enemy.

“It’s the bat?!” One of the conscious men shouted. Right before they were slammed down into the bleachers head first. A batarang collided with the last visible attacker with a ‘hurk!’ noise before he collapsed entirely.

The last man emerged from the locker room. He held a pistol at the ready as he eased into the darkness of the court.

“Jimmy? Jimmy, you there?!” The man called out. “DeMarcus, I know you didn’t do this! You got the cops here? Huh?” He shot blindly ahead of himself, thankfully he missed his hostage. “I said no cops! Nobody in or out! That means nobody!”

“What about me?” Batman’s gruff, augmented tone rumbled behind the target before he was pulled from his feet and up into the rafters swiftly!

Minutes later, the GCPD broke into the arena. There were flashlights set up all around with the bound criminals waiting for their arrest. The last criminal was left with his arms tied behind his back and  tied to the backboard with the rim as a seat.

“Round them up,” Jim Gordon said as he staggered into the court. “Batman just made this a lot less bloody than it needed to be.”

“You’re ok with that vigilante, commissioner?”

“Sometimes, it’s just damn good police work.” Jim scoffed. “Get this trash out of here. Let’s get DeMarcus to safety.”

Outside the arena – in fact several blocks down, Bruce remained perched. He looked over his chapfallen city with a stoic face. Though the darkness of the night still remained, the light in the sky with his symbol still brought hope to those in need. While a smile wasn’t present on his face, one was in his heart for the simple fact he’d done some good.

“So, about that branding thing, Batman,” Oracle began. “How about Wayne Enterprises mysteriously trademarking and copyrighting the name Oracle and selling merchandise?  You know, with a hefty royalty attached to it?”

“Forget about it, Oracle.”

“I’m not going to kiss your Bat-Ass forever. I’ll just let Nightwing talk to you about it. It’ll be good for team morale.”

“If Nightwing can keep his mind on the streets and not the gutters, you both may find peace outside of payment.” Bruce retorted.

“Oh don’t be so grumpy. You were young once.” She paused. “Okay, looks like we’ve got a situation in the Diamond District. Security guards down with…claw marks on their bodies. Speaking of being young once, that sounds like an old flame.”

“Don’t.” Bruce sighed. “I’m on my way.”

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: UPDATE

I will continue my daily short stories. Currently resetting my sleep schedule to post them in the afternoons. Look out for a new round of words and new stories starting today!

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: ELLIOT SALEM & TYSON RIOS (ARMY OF TWO)

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf http://listenonrepeat.com/watch/?v=XpxNNalLTB4#Jingle_Bell_Rock-_Lyrics

Character: Tyson Rios and Elliot Salem Word of the Day: Pooh-bah (Flamboyant, Nativity, Conciliate, Abeyance, Hortative, Debilitate) Definition: a person holding many public or private offices. A person in high position or great influence. Start Time: 8:33 AM End Time: 9:19 AM Final Word Count: 1,262 Words

The tune of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ resounded through the sound system of the abandoned shopping mall in a lost American territory. After the area had come under occupation of a rather naughty group of individuals with ideas to gift explosives to all the nice boys and girls of the area, it was up to a team of private military contractors to swoop in armed with coal colored rifles and rather festive war paint across their face masks. “Our contact Agent Donner says the idiots should be held up in here somewhere, right?” Salem said as he and Tyson snuck through the abandoned Foot Locker of the mall. “Color me curious, but if they really were out to kill the local Pooh-bah, they’d be on his doorstep and not held up in a mall like fish in a barrel.” “There’s a reason.” Tyson explained. “They’re gearing up for war. Donner says they are expecting war. Not two guys.” The larger of the men examined one of the sneakers they passed by and picked it up. “Two hundred bucks for this. Can you believe it?” Salem scoffed. “Yeah, man. Those are knock-offs of the real limited edition. They run for at least four hundred.” “Say what?” “Yeah, the Air Cupids were all the rage down in Louisiana, man. Especially the white and red version? No better way to celebrate the Nativity than to be decked out in some nice kicks.” “Far from Winter appropriate.” Rios dropped the sneaker and returned to pressing forward to the exit of the shoe store. “Is it bad that I’m trying to do Christmas shopping for my daughter in the middle of all this on Christmas Eve?” “Worst dad ever.” Salem quipped. “Screw you. If we weren’t down in Brazil I could have had it done sooner. You’re lucky Alice convinced me this job was worth it at the last minute.” The two men bickered with their distorted voiced behind their masks.  Once they emerged from the shoe store, they found several barricades put up. There were bullet holes all over. It seemed the group had been practicing combat drills in the open area with machine guns. The interior of the mall was like a warzone with Clause-knew how many soldiers. The song still repeated. At least the leader of the group was in a festive mood. “It’s at least hortative they’re playing Christmas music, you know?” Rios led the way to the first barricade and examined the area for trip wires and traps. Nothing came up thus far. “If not annoying.” Salem retorted. “I’m thinking about asking Alice to marry me. Or maybe some lingerie. Think I’ll go with lingerie. A vixen like her would love it.” “That’s more of a gift for you isn’t it?” “I’ve been a good boy this year.” “Yeah, sure.” The two men were interrupted when a rocket fired near them like a comet, destroying much of the ground. The two soldiers were forced behind barricade cover as the rapid footsteps of the closing in enemies filled the air after their ears finished ringing. The enemies opened fire at them, and each shot was returned with blind over-head gunfire. “They’re blitzin’ us, Tyse!” Salem called out. “Yeah! We gotta push!” The men broke apart into different forms of cover. They isolated targets with their pincer tactics, and took down three of the five ambushing them from up front. As the numbers dwindled down to one on two, the man holding the rocket launcher screamed out from his form of cover. “Come out! Get out of your cover, cowards! It’s just you, me, and the music!” His voice became hoarse rather quickly. It was clear he was under a lot of distress. “Well, I ain’t much of a dancer,” Salem said as he stood when he sensed the attacker rising with his rocket launcher. He took his shot with his pistol and nailed him between the eyes with ease. “More of a head-nodder.” “How long you been savin’ that bullcrap?” Tyson groaned as the last man fell. “About ten years. Worth it.” Salem retorted proudly. They were safe, for the time being.  No injuries thus far. Tyson peeked around at the flamboyantly designed interior of the mall. It was bright with green colors, Christmas lights, and dozens of posters of Rudolph. Thankfully no civilians were killed when the occupation occurred. The temporary abeyance of the police force was needed for the PMCs to do their job, even though the building was surrounded by the men and women of the shield. As the army of two pushed forward slowly. They knew there were more waiting for them somewhere within. “We take this slowly. Traps could be anywhere.” Rios warned. “Yeah no shit. I’m not gonna prance around like a dumb ass in a mall I don’t know.” “Horses prance. Humans skip. Vocabulary words, Salem.” “Wasn’t the sharpest lightbulb in the woodshed,” Elliot joked. “But I damn sure was the prettiest. Still am.” “Really getting’ on my nerves now.” After a while of searching, Salem communicated with the police force outside. He confirmed their prior kills and asked about what they were looking at dealing with. The intel was loose at best, but they took the job out of the goodness of their hearts, obviously. From their intel person they found that one more individual was held up in the mall. No wonder they were so hard to find. After relaying this to his partner, Salem and Rios became more thorough in their search. They went into shop after shop, covering the other’s blindside so they weren’t caught by a sniper shot or anything of that nature. They dashed between open spaces and laid low, watching the other’s surroundings in perfect harmony. The decked halls of the mall lit their path to their target. The bomber planned to debilitate the local government, and boasted true power with his small group of mercenaries that had been dispatched by just two men. Even the bomber knew he was beyond the point of conciliation with them now. The harshest of punishments was left for him. When Tyson and Elliot closed in on his location…the two kicked down the door to one of the hallway exits. The man took off running. “We got a dasher!” Tyson shouted out. He fired his weapon toward the man’s legs, as did Salem. He was unarmed as far as they could tell. When he finally fell forward the two men held their guns at the ready. They confirmed the target as they approached. Tyson aggressively moved in and patted the terrorist down. He checked for explosives or weapons and found nothing obvious. Salem unlatched his handcuffs from his side as he approached. Once they were latched onto the man, the two men hefted him up to his feet. They may not have read him his rights, but he must have known he was dead to them at this point. After the soldiers turned the bomber over to the proper authorities they were paid quite a hefty fee for their expertise. With a nice paycheck for an easy op, the two men were able to go and purchase their last minute Christmas purchases. At Rios’ household, when his daughter tore open her presents and screeched in joy, Rios picked up his gift from Salem among the pile. Once he tore the paper off and peeked into the box… He found an XXL set of lacy lingerie inside with a note attached that read ‘got it in your size buddy. Tell the wife merry Christmas, Salem.’

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: ARANEA HIGHWIND

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary.

Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf http://rainymood.com/watch?v=vdPNCYj2MI0

Note: Writing this under a bit of distress. I just found out a family member was killed tonight.

Character: Aranea Highwind Word of the Day: Debilitate (Flamboyant, Nativity, Conciliate, Abeyance, Hortative) Definition: to impair the strength of: enfeeble Start Time: 12:46 AM End Time: 1:52 AM Final Word Count: 2,111 Words

There were still three days of light left. The daemons would certainly rule the endless night once it occurred. It was not only the right, but the necessity for those left alive to defend themselves. Not one was to be without a pistol, a blade, or a means of protecting hearth and home. While the entire world’s populace seemed to converge in Lestallum, Aranea took to the roads bravely on foot most nights. Not only did she hunt the daemons, she confronted them not for gain of materials, but gain of self-assurance that she was mighty enough to brave the unknown. However, not all were as strong as she was. Some individuals were sapped of their strength in one fashion or another. Though their friends did their best to support them, there was no getting around the fact that their impairments were not going to improve. Knowing Ignis to be too proud to truly ask for assistance, Aranea took initiative. She interrupted Ignis’ attempts to navigate the abode provided for him and was welcomed inside by Gladio personally. “You here for somethin’?” The deep-tone of Gladio questioned. “I’m in need of a hunting party. Just need Ignis.” She began. “I’m looking to hunt for some food. Who better to teach me a thing or two about local delicacies?” “Iggy isn’t one to really hunt these days,” Gladio explained. “But if you think you can convince him otherwise…have at it. One less hour of me fussing with him.” With Gladio’s blessing, Aranea searched for Ignis on the ground floor. He’d been sitting in the kitchen, listening to Prompto cling and clang about with different pots and make his third attempt to boil water without over-filling the pot. “A bit heavy on the water, Prompto. You don’t want it to heat longer than the recipe requires.” Ignis scolded lightly. “You want everything to be on time. Dump the water and for goodness sake, measure this time.” “How’d you--?!” Prompto scoffed in annoyance. “Alright, alright. One more shot. Oh, hey Aranea!” The photographer waved at her in glee. Aranea inclined her head his way in greeting. Though her alignment seemed to be in abeyance, she remained friendly enough to greet Prompto as a friend. They’d already been through so much together, it would have been rude of her to do anything less-than. “Prompto, no photos please.” She chuckled. “Ignis is being a backseat chef? I guess every kitchen needs its mother.” “And every family needs its pet dog.” Ignis added in and adjusted his glasses. “We feed Gladio well enough.” He quipped. “I’ll take your word for it, Iggy. I’ll also take you with me because I need your help.” Aranea continued. “There’s been some beasts spotted around town in the daylight hours. I figure if we hunt we can gather some food and the like to make a good few dishes for the townspeople. Take part in some kind of feast to keep spirits high.” Ignis gave it some consideration. Prompto or Gladio were probably better suited…but he did not want them to take further pity upon him either. “Very well,” Ignis accepted and stood. Despite Prompto’s hortative words that followed, Ignis had his mind made up. “I will accompany you and that is that. We will return before the nightfall.” Aranea agreed, “Don’t worry Prompto, he’s in good hands.” She assured him. “I’ll take you to dinner if you let Iggy slide this one time. Is that enough of a conciliation?” “Well…,” Prompto mused. “I have a dinner with Cidney lined up. But maybe I--…” “Rule number one,” Ignis interrupted. “Never tell a woman you have plans. You either accept or you decline.” “But Gladio said to be honest!” Prompto argued. “Of the three of us, which one has the least trouble with women?” Ignis walked along and left Prompto in the kitchen with Aranea. Aranea was both impressed and amused. The three could at times bicker like children but somehow kept their friendship intact. “Good luck at your dinner, Prompto. Make sure you get a goodnight kiss ya hear?” She said with a slight mock of Cidney’s accent before catching up with Ignis. The walk from the home was mostly quiet. Ignis followed the sounds of Aranea’s footsteps on the cobblestone streets. He didn’t have many questions by way of what they were hunting, but he was thankful to get a lungful of fresh air for the time being. Conversation only really started when their feet hit the lush greenery that was starting to wilt further away from the city. No one knew how long vegetation could or would last, but they were braced for the worst. “Are you okay, Ignis?” Aranea asked now that they were out of earshot of any other human being. “You sound the same, but you feel different.” “I’d figure I was a sight for sore eyes.” “Something like that.” “I feel fine. I just need an opportunity to test myself and improve.” Ignis explained. “An impairment is not the end of life. This much is clear. I cannot let it debilitate me.” Aranea admired his inner-strength. For a man who had lost so much, including the place of his nativity, he certainly kept a cooler head than expected. She supposed it was because of his servitude and higher calling in this life. “It won’t. You’ve got me watching your back. I’ll whip you into shape.” She promised as the two traveled on the abandoned roads and grassy paths. Eventually, the pair happened upon a heard of beasts. They were vastly more daemon than animal. The pig-like creatures were vast in number, and brutal for the environment they lived in. They’d done away with vegetation and rotted trees in their presence. It was clear these were not the edible type. “It smells like we’re the clean-up crew.” Ignis stated. “Do you think we are fit for this?” Aranea didn’t give it a second thought. She sprung into combat with her spear guiding her path. Ignis supported her from afar, blazing the masses with flamboyant bursts of flame that tore into their rough hides. The two’s combined effort cleared the weak from the strong, but the struggle continued on. Aranea’s weapon slashed and jabbed into rough hides and parried tusks. Ignis senses kept him trained on her location, and his daggers tore the winds to make the killing blows on the necks of the hogs to swiftly end the confrontation.

Beasts fell under their combined might, but it wasn’t without its injuries. Arenea suffered cuts along her arms and sides from sharp tusks, and Ignis took a ramming headbutt to the back that knocked him onto his front. Instinct took over for Aranea. She fended off the creatures near Ignis and helped him up with her other hand. With her arm around his waist, she sprung high into the air and got several yards distance from the aggravated remains of the heard. There were too many for them to keep fighting alone, for certain. “I can still fight!” Ignis pleaded. “We’ll fight another day. These things are stronger than I thought—..” “I can take a hit, Aranea! I do not need your pity!” “And I don’t need your foolishness! You’re not dying on my watch. We’re retreating.” The two ran from the battle until the hogs became winded and gave up the pursuit. Though once they were within range of the city, they slowed into a walking pace. “I’m sorry I yelled,” Aranea began. “We need everyone. I can’t let you get hurt, Ignis. We need to start things slower.” “Start things slower?” Ignis parroted. “This is to gather supplies. How much slower can it be?” “It’s not just that. I want to help you improve and get better than ever.” Aranea confessed. “Your friends are going to baby you or refuse to take you places that are dangerous. I want you to accompany me, and you will have a judgement-free zone and can start at your pace, not mine.” The offer created dead silence between the two for several moments. Ignis placed his hand on her shoulder to use her as a guide. His hand increased its grip on her shoulder as he allowed himself to lower his defenses. “I accept.” Ignis said with a dash of reluctance in his tone. “We start again tomorrow, then? Somewhere that the beasts are much smaller?” “You got it.” Aranea agreed. She stopped at the town’s gates where they were allowed in by the watchmen. “I may know of a few areas. I’ll pick you up tomorrow afternoon.” “And dinner after?” Ignis added. “I may have plans.” “I assure you these plans are vastly better.” He insisted. “Consider the offer and I’ll cook the meal for you myself. I make an excellent Lasanga Al Forno, you know?” His persistence drew a humored response from Aranea. “I’ll make my choice tomorrow when I see you. For now, try not to make your friends lives a living hell, and go easy on Prompto. He’s a good boy.” “I thought that was Gladio,” He chuckled. “Very well. Tomorrow I will bring my best. Do try and keep up, Aranea.”

The words between the two were light, but after their parting of ways, Aranea could not help but feel a weight fall upon her shoulders. For the day the light returned, the world was going to need Ignis and his friends to be at their absolute best. It was a duty she put upon herself to make sure she could at least lend a small hand in the salvation of her world. Even so, there was no promise everything would work as intended. There was still the possibility of her heart growing found with more time spent teaching and protecting the man who she once opposed in battle. The small tinge of sympathy could at times grow without warning, but even the platonic nature of friendship made the possibility of ‘goodbye’ when it was all done even harder to face. Ignis made his choice long ago, and to honor his bravery Aranea would too face the darkness approaching with vigilance. Three days light remained, and the long road of ten years time until the next dawn felt like an eternity. Day in and day out she spent with Ignis. She trained him, improved his ability to the point he could go out on his own and combat even Iron Giants on his own will. She supervised from afar, but once he was beyond his old self again…her mission was accomplished. In ten years she’d never done more than comfort or spend time with Ignis and his friends. She’d grown older and colder with the years of harsh survival. At times she was forced to leave town for some grand adventure…and when she returned, Ignis was the first one there to greet her. He always stood at the gates, waiting for her to pull into town. This was only friendship, wasn’t it? The question repeated in her mind time after time again. However, the day she dread finally came. Noctis had returned. News of this spread through town like a wildfire. Everyone knew the end of the darkness was near. But even as a dawn was on the horizon for survivors of the night, Aranea saw only darkness. She helped Ignis dress for his big day. She saw him off – but before he parted with her she grabbed his hand. She held it tightly and stared up at him. The connection they shared in the warmth of their hands spoke much louder than words she could ever speak. As she let him go, Ignis gave a knowing nod to her. Whatever ‘this’ was, he felt the same. It was painful to leave like this. Once he set off to meet with Noctis, Aranea waited at the gate. He was gone, and he was never coming back. She felt it in her heart the night that the darkness ended. When the colors of life and light spread over the land, a single bleak figure stood at the gates waiting for a vehicle to drive into town. A vehicle which never came. She was left with the warmth in her hand and the memories of missed opportunities. Fearing attachment only made it stronger, and with that fear preventing progress…she was left feeling empty and lost. Maybe she should have done things differently and with more courage than she had. For the next three days of light she swore she never left that gate. Even when she roamed town and work a mask of happiness, her soul remained waiting. He would return one day.

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: LINK

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary. Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf http://rainymood.com/watch?v=cLTnvRoxfPk

Character: Link Word of the Day: Hortative (Flamboyant, Nativity, Conciliate, Abeyance) Definition: Giving exhortation; serving to advise or warn. Start Time: 12:16 AM End Time: 1:15 AM Final Word Count: 2,187 Words

How far away is what we truly seek? Is it within arm’s reach? Is it beyond the mountains of trial and tribulation? For one so learned on the unbeaten path of heroism and destiny, Link could not help but find himself contemplating life on this snowy eve. He was dressed for the weather, wrapped and warm in a large coat he’d purchased in the market during his travels. He only worried about keeping Epona warm, so their usual long days of travel was ripe with breaks, campfires, and sugar cubes to keep the spirits of his partner high. Though snow and slippery ice didn’t exactly bar their path, Link guided Epona while walking beside her through the snowy woods. His boots crunched downed branches and freshly fallen snow. His breaths created small clouds of mist, but not at a rate to suggest exhaustion. He was perfectly fine, but Epona’s snorts were one after the other. He affectionately stroked her neck and guided her carefully around bushes and gopher holes he spotted on the ground. Without the hortative Navi to assist them, the young man had to take point and act as a guardian for himself and his partner.

Hyrule was a long way out, but after being away so many years on a journey for self-discovery and adventure, it was time to come home. Every lead he had on Navi went cold. Either she was truly gone…or she did not wish to be found. Still, he was near blindly driven to find her. Blind enough that he left Zelda, Malon, and Ratu to fend for themselves. His friends; though at least two of them seemed interested in vastly more. They may not have known it at the time, but the young man who defeated Ganon was only an adult in stature, with the spirit of the young boy he truly was inside. The ways by of love and romance were lost to him at the time. Though the hero’s building fear was that perhaps returning now would be too little, vastly too late. After making camp and resting for the evening, Link did some light hunting to gather rations for the next few days travel. He only managed to hunt a few smaller birds and beasts this time around, but it would have to do. With the sun in the sky, and his horse fully rested, Link climbed onto Epona’s back. At his command, she began running. Malon’s prized horse had served him well, and Link felt it was high time he allowed the horse and her true owner to have a family reunion. Five years away from the land of his nativity and he was back. Though, nothing was the same. Hyrule had undergone expansion and reconstruction. The castle had gotten larger. The once vacant fields full of snow and life as smaller towns popped up with the Lon Lon Ranch in the center of it all. He followed the road with a call of Epona’s speed. She tore through the snow and powered beyond the smaller towns along the road. A few towns people looked just outside of their gates, watching as the green coat and hat clad hero returned to them. Everyone knew Link’s name. Zelda made sure of it. With Ganondorf in abeyance the world was allowed to live in peace. It was allowed to move on in the direction Zelda’s father wished for it. Until Ganon’s expected return, there was nothing for the people of Hyrule to fear of him for at least a few generations. He stopped in one of the smaller towns to barter and purchase. He sold his hunted kills for rupees and went to purchase food for Epona first, then himself second. He heard rumors circling the town as he ate. Many of the strongest men in town were trying to court the farm girl who was set to inherit the lucrative Lon Lon Ranch.  The story was that the young woman had ignored advances for years. She never even replied to them when they tried courting her. Some men went as far as to call the girl an ice queen, but for the riches they would gladly endure.  That didn’t sound like Malon at all. She was vibrant and full of life. Her singing was angelic and calming. He could still hear her singing in the farm at night, singing to the moon as it passed overhead. Singing to her deceased mother looking down from the plane beyond the stars. Often Link would play the song on his ocarina to play Epona to sleep, or just to remember the tune of her voice. Surely, these men had it all wrong.

After finishing his meal, Link passed by a flower shop. There were many great selections inside but…alas, he’d spent the vast majority of his rupees on food. He wanted to get one of the plants for Malon, as an apology for keeping Epona away so long. Even with his reputation, such delicacies required hard-earned currency! It was back to basics. He took up odd-jobs in town from anyone who would hire him. He and Epona rushed out into the fields and beyond, taking down bandit creatures and returning stolen goods to the assumed terrorized townsfolk. He rode to Death Mountain to conciliate with an angry husband to return home to his wife who promised not to compare him to Link again when it came to feats of strength. However, it cost Link a good set of gauntlets in his backpack to do so. Each job paid little, but the momentum of favor he obtained was a greater currency.  Still, he was a long way from reaching his goal. Though once he did reach it, he didn’t even know what kind of flowers she would like. Roses? Tulips? Orchids? What seemed to be a good color for her? Link couldn’t decide, but lucky for him…a few men had the same idea as he did. “Hey, you!” One of the strapping, tall young farmers called out to him. “I’m looking for a gift for a lady friend. In all your travels I’m sure you’ve met with a lot of women. Not that I’m jealous or anything of that. I just want your input on what you think a lady is most likely to enjoy…at a reasonable price, that is.” Once the farmer was done, Link went with his first instinct. He pointed at the roses. At least in books women seemed to enjoy the roses more than anything else that happened to them in romantic stories. Sadly, he’d only had books to go off of. “Roses!” The farmer nodded. “Good call, my friend. I’ll be sure to invite you to the wedding after this!” As the man purchased the roses and left, Link went out to obtain a few more small jobs to gain the proper amount of currency. When he returned, the young man stood at the flower shop with his head down. “She didn’t even say a word! She just looked at me and walked away!” The farmer complained to the clerk at the door. He returned the roses and shook his head. “Real ice queen, that one! I’ll just make my farm outdo her farm, then!” After the man walked away, Link was called upon after being spotted checking out the flowers. “Excuse me!” Another man called. He was smaller in frame like Link, but with fire red hair and sapphire eyes. “Mr. Adventurer,” The flamboyantly dressed man was more akin to a court jester than a suitor of a farmer’s daughter.  “As one who has certainly courted many women in his travels, what do you suggest to be a proper gift for a rather lovely woman?” Link, while genuinely trying to help, pointed out the tulips. “Ah! Grand choice!” The red-haired man clapped his hands twice and went to purchase the tulips. “A little something for your troubles! I’ll be filthy rich in no time!” He handed over a few rupees to Link and was on his way. While being on the cusp of his goal, Link set out again via request of townsfolk. He battled a few monsters, getting used to adrenalin rushing through his body from the challenge of battle for the first time in a few weeks. After the beasts were dispatched and the mission complete, Link returned to collect his pay. Though after he left his employer’s side, he noticed the red-haired man grumbling and returning the potted plant. “Tulips didn’t work! I have got to come up with a better plan!” As he stormed away, Link stepped up to the merchant’s door. “Yes?” She said with a weary gaze on Link. He pointed at the orchids, the last of the set of three. “Oh, Orchids? These are a lovely selection. They bring good fortune into the futures of those they are given to. But you have to be purse of heart for it to work, now.” She warned.

Link nodded in agreeance to her, and paid the needed rupees. With the plant now in his possession, Link nervously carried it out. If it would be a good apologetic present or not was beyond his wisdom, but he had hope she would forgive his extended absence. Though now he had to figure out what he was going to get Ratu and Zelda as a show of friendship and affection. Actions spoke louder than words, and Link was trying to make the boldest actions he could muster to leave a lasting mark on the women he cared for. Without Navi there, a void in his life needed to be filled. Companionship was yearned for with each passing day, and maybe this was in fact the correct move to make to fill that role needed in his life. Malon was the easiest to apologize to in the very least. Ratu may have been the most difficult because of what he suspected to be a temper looming around inside of her heart. Link climbed back onto Epona and set out into the vast fields of Hyrule. The peaceful ride put Link’s mind at ease as he fixated his eyes on the large walls of Lon Lon Ranch several miles out. Butterflies began to swell up in the pits of his stomach as he got closer. Funny, he’d never felt his nervous before. Evaluating his sudden shift in behavior, Link suspected it was just excitement to be back in Hyrule and being able to help others return to normal lives. However, it went beyond that. He wanted to hear Malon sing again and to see her smile upon being reunited with her horse. His only hope was that he didn’t too give him the cold shoulder. Apprehensive and approaching a sweat in the cold air, Link slowed down to figure out his approach. The moon was gliding across the sky and gave the cold snowy terrain a light blue hue. His shadow stretched across the ice as Epona trotted along to the entrance of the ranch. It was make or break time. Normally, he could hear Malon singing even when he was outside the farm. Tonight, he heard nothing. Not a single peep left the farm that wasn’t a cow or horse sound. Link began to let his apprehensiveness get the better of him and considered himself being a nuisance to Malon’s time of rest. Though nervous, his fortitude disallowed him to retreat. He rode Epona into the slightly curved passage into the farm. Everything was exactly how he remembered it as a child. Literally nothing about Lon Lon Ranch had changed at all. This was both comforting and worrying – did Malon still lose her farm in the time he was away? He came to a stop in front of the large house and beside the barn where the cows were kept. He examined his immediate area and climbed down from Epona’s back. Flowers in hand, Link walked forward with Epona trailing him. As he got deeper into the farm, he saw that the obstacle course and large fenced in area was not occupied. Malon wasn’t out singing, as she was in the prior timeline. His fear of her actually being asleep became all too certain. Rather than stick around and make a fool of himself, Link tracked back to the front door of Malon’s home. He squatted to put her potted  Orchids on her doorstep and made sure they were nice and neat. The tag laced around the pot simply read ‘FROM: Link’ With the deed done, the hero returned to Epona’s side. He touched her head apologetically. Maybe next time they could see Malon. For now, it was back on the trials. He put one foot in the stirrups and threw his body on board Epona’s back. Just as Link turned to leave, he heard Malon’s door open suddenly and her voice cried out in joy. “Fairy boy! You came back!”

:

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE: WOLVERINE

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary. Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf http://rainymood.com/watch?v=13GD78Bmo8s Character: Wolverine Word of the Day: Abeyance Definition: A state of temporary disuse or suspension. Start Time:12:50 AM End Time: 1:50 AM Final Word Count: 2,116 Words

The smell of dried blood brought back the best memories.  At least when it was his own blood dried beneath his nostril. The iron-like scent reminded him that he was truly alive, as most pain barely did these days. Logan took a pull of his cigar and exhaled the plumes of smoke from his now healed nostrils.  The sensation brought calm to the animal’s heart, almost as much as the body laying slumped over the bar he sat at. “She’s a good kid, you know.” Logan’s gruff no-nonsense tone rumbled from his aged throat. “She should be home, openin’ presents and celebratin’ this Nativity bullshit, and yer men just wanna snatch a kid off the streets for some goddamn science.” The body was unresponsive. The deep gashes along their throat made this apparent, as well s the smeared blood on Logan’s knuckles. The bartender was nowhere in sight. Just Wolverine hunched over the bar with his elbows practically digging into the wood surface. His leather jacket was torn across the back from the scuffle, but there was little to no sign of blood anywhere on his person outside of his face. The chump must have thought he was dealing with a run of the mill angry father when the altercation started. At least now, his goal was fulfilled. He just needed to finish up his drink and head home. That wasn’t happening anytime soon.

Wolverine knocked on the wood surface to call for the bartender that wasn’t there. With his head slumped he knocked again. No response. When his gazed up and around him, the clearly annoyed man pushed away from the bar and got on his feet. The dead form of a now limbless member of Laura’s kidnappers was steppe over, along with several other bodies left littered on the floor. Claw marks dug deep and splintered the support beams of the establishment. Chairs were cleaved and tabled overturned. However, he walked through the destruction with a calm expected of a man prepping to open their shop for the morning. He stopped just a few feet shy of his teenaged clone. She sat huddled in a corner with her knees hugged to her chest and her head down. “C’mon darlin’. Let’s go.” Logan said while glancing toward the broken open door of the bar. Soft blues music still played on the Jukebox that a man was laying dead against, so the air wasn’t entirely silent outside of Laura’s lack of reply.  “I said come on, kid. Stop fuckin’ around. We gotta move, and we gotta move now.” He put more bass in his voice to try and startle a response out of the girl. Still, Laura didn’t reply.

“This shit, again.” Logan grumbled under his breath. He removed his jacket and offered it to her in his tightly clenched fist. “Here, take my jacket. Its cold out.” He tried to conciliate, “I’m not angry with you. No one could have seen ya getting taken coming. You weren’t powerless. Just surprised.” Laura looked up from her knees. Her bright green eyes opposed his colder blue set. Her cutting gaze remained as she took the jacket from him. It smells of alcohol and cigars, but such was a future she expected herself to be drowned in when of age. “Now, lets get out of here.” Logan now offered both of his hands to the young woman. “I was not strong enough to defend myself. How will I ever be strong enough to fight beside you?” She took his hand and pulled herself up. “I have failed you, Logan.” “…Can ya cut the bullshit for five minutes and get yer head on straight?” Logan put his cigar out on the ground after a nice stomp-and-grind from his boot. “I killed ‘em cause they fucked with you. Not cause you couldn’t. Do ya understand? Now, let’s get outta here and get to Neena. Maybe some’a her luck’ll rub off on us.” The mention of Neena made Laura smile just slightly. Perhaps it was for the best in case anyone came after her again. As the duo made their escape in Logan’s truck the ride was quiet. Logan had nothing to say really, and Laura just looked out of the window. She viewed the world much to big for her to explore, yet willing to offer itself to her endless imagination. A few dozen miles out and Logan decided to flick on the radio to get some kind of background noise going. Dead-air with Laura wasn’t much fun. Even when he was in solitude. “Merry Christmas, Laura.” Logan spoke up. “I didn’t getcha a damn thing, because yer spoiled as is.” Laura gave a biting glare to Logan. Her arms crossed over her stomach and her legs crossed right over left. “Logan, I am not spoiled. Why would you use such insulting language?” “Yeah you are.” He retorted with a grin. “I bet ya want a Dolly Dream-House huh?” “I do not wish for such childish—…” “Comes with like..ten thousand pieces or some bull?” “Fifty!” Laura corrected. “Fifty additional parts and pieces to customize the appliances!”

 Logan let out a deep belly laugh after she spoke. He looked over at her and locked his left hand on top of the wheel. “Ya know it right down to the number of pieces? Geeze, kid. I was just fuckin’ with ya.” The clone, however, did not find it so humorous. “The Dolly Dreamhouse has been a desire of mine since childhood. I take it I have outgrown ‘toys’ and I am expected to be into cell phones and accessories now? Perhaps dating and sex?”

“Hold your damn horses.” Logan hit a bump in the road, but kept cruising along. “No sex til you’re married. Thems the breaks, kid.” “Until I’m married?!” The teen shouted. “Yep. Yer not makin’ my mistakes. That’s how ya get Daken.” “You are beyond unreasonable.” Laura looked away in anger. “I do what I want. I am no different than you.” “I didn’t want a Dolly Dreamhouse—” “Go. To hell. Logan.” Wolverine had another hearty laugh from his clone’s frustration. He reached over and ruffled her hair up, much to her dislike. He only stopped when Laura struck his wrist. “You got a boyfriend yet? Girlfriend? Yer not pregnant are ya?” “Logan!” Laura flushed red in the face. “I gotta know who’s secretly into me.” He said jokingly. “Dad!” That word paused him. It was nice to hear…and while not entirely true, he still accepted it. He stopped teasing her for a few moments of silence during their drive. As they entered into city limits and rejoined traffic in the snowy conditions, Wolverine finally replied. “Sorry, darlin’. If you don’t wanna talk about it…, I’m supposed to be okay and supportive.” That was word-for-word of what he was told by Charles. So much for being genuine about it. “There is a person who is affectionate to me.” She finally said. “It is friendly. I am not certain how I am to feel toward them yet.” Wolverine made an immediate assumption. “Is it fuckin’ Julian?” He squinted at her. “Kid’s an asshole. Take it from me.” “I am not inclined to confirm or deny your assumption,” Laura rolled her eyes. “Though you are the authority on such subjects. I will take your warning into consideration if Julian happens to be this person.” “Good girl.” Wolverine quipped. “Ya need to date somebody yer opposite. Just avoid flamboyant assholes like Remy.” The cocky Cajun may have been a friend, but the charmer was the last person he needed around his daughter/clone in a romantic sense. He didn’t wanna pay for the funeral when Remy broke her heart. “Remy is a good friend. Again, your warning is taken into consideration.” Laura stated. “Where are we going?” “We’re goin’ back to the mansion. Gotta let everyone know you’re okay.” Logan replied. With the X-Men in abeyance and the school continuing on, Logan was able to focus a lot more on developing the talents of students rather than facing off with the Brotherhood, Magneto, or sentinels seemingly every week. It as a short time of peace, while the government got bigger issues sorted out involving people with special gifts. He worried silently often times, that Laura wouldn’t be able to enjoy her new life and freedoms to the fullest in America. Moving her to Canada was always on his mind, but she already suffered through one traumatic parting of ways with her mother. He knew he couldn’t ask her to part with what friends she had made during her time in the mansion. After a long ride, the two finally arrived at the mansion. Christmas was still in the air, despite the shake-up earlier in the morning when Laura was taken. The two got out of the truck together, and Wolverine draped his arm around Laura’s shoulders. As they entered the school, Laura was greeted by her peers with joy. Wolverine left her to them and stood back. He was thanked by Charles and the others, but the only thanks that truly mattered was Laura’s. He stood and watched for a few minutes as she awkwardly interacted with the other teens, and would at times look over to him for reassurance. After while, Wolverine walked out of the mansion and sat out front in the snow. He occupied himself with cigar smoke, not caring much for the holiday itself. Though his keen hearing heard inside as Scott introduced Laura to the biggest present near the tree. The paper was torn. Wolverine grinned outside as he heard Laura scream in surprise. She rapidly tore away at the paper with her face reddening in both excitement and embarrassment as the Dolly Dreamhouse that stood over five feet tall was finally in her possession. The tag of who it was from? It was signed simply as ‘Dad’. Knowing she was happy and safe, Wolverine stood from the front steps of the mansion and started to walk down toward his truck.  When the cigar was dropped he mashed it with his boot in the snow. “She’s a good kid.” He said to the open, crisp air and laughed to himself. “She deserves childhood.” He climbed inside of his truck, at least part-way. “Dad!” Laura called from the door. The sobbing teen ran with all of her might – and tripped on the snow. She picked herself up quickly and continued toward him. Naturally, Wolverine turned back to face her and opened his arms for the girl. He caught her in mid air and embraced the sobbing young girl tightly. It all became too real in that moment. Pain was dulling to him these days…but feelings like this surged through his chest. Seeing her this happy filled him with pride.

He squeezed her tightly and managed to keep himself from shedding a tear himself. He was cool and collected on the outside, but inside he was thankful his heart wasn’t made of adamantium. “Merry Christmas, darlin’.” Logan said as he began to break the embrace with the teen. “I’m gonna letcha be with yer friends, alright?” “No,” Laura pleaded. “Stay. I…” She searched for the words. She looked down at her shaking hands then back up to Wolverine. “There is someone I would like you to meet. Officially. Consider it my…gift to you. Spending this event with you and everyone else.” After some consideration, Wolverine looked toward the door where Scott and a few others were watching. He’d look like a real dick if he climbed in his car and left her standing there. Still, it was tempting just to keep his reputation, but… “…Shit, alright.” Wolverine caved in. Much to Laura’s enjoyment, Logan put aside his usual designated night to be alone to spend time with his daughter and her friends. He looked forward to meeting this ‘special’ friend, whoever that may be.   He didn’t expect much by way of gifts. He always told people never to get him anything. Though since the day he officially met Laura, she had been a gift given life. He made sure to guide her day by day, even giving her space when he knew she needed it. He was an old dog who had been kicked all of his life, but he treated her vastly better than anyone did for him and her past was vastly rougher than his own. Like it or not, Wolverine was a father to her. He would always protect and do right by her because one day he wanted her to take his place. When he finally hung it up, he wanted Laura to be the one to fill his boots and find her destiny. Fatherhood. Who knew such an old dog could learn that?

[jsteeleuniverse]

DAILY DRABBLE is an exercise I’m doing. I’m just writing one-shots/short stories in one sitting to see what I can do. My goal is to reach 3-5 pages in Microsoft word per drabble, and to do 1 drabble every single day. On top of this, I am using the word of the day (https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day ) to try and boost my vocabulary. Tools used:  https://www.merriam-webster.com/word-of-the-day http://www.losmedanos.edu/core/documents/OneHundredWaystosaySaid.pdf http://rainymood.com/watch?v=c3GN9CqxKAY

Character: Ciaro Bradd (OC - Final Fantasy VII universe) Word of the Day: Conciliate Definition: Appease; to gain (as goodwill) by pleasing acts. Start Time:1:26 AM End Time: 2:45 AM Final Word Count: 2,098 Words

 Where the wind whistled, his spirit followed without hesitation. A wayward soul, Ciaro was always looking for a new adventure or challenge to add to his to-do list. Though between saving the world and saving food for later on, Ciaro had a normal life. One full of questions surrounding his nativity, and just how far his special abilities went. To those who knew Ciaro and his twin Juviare closely, they knew the brothers possessed extraordinary strength and seemed to have no shortage of spectacular feats under their belt. Though where it came from was always up in the air. He’d heard theories of curses and mutations…but when it all came down to it, the gifts he possessed were still improved upon. He worked hard every single day so that he could be certain he was a worthy protector and heir to his parents’ legacy.

His blue hair was a distinct badge and mark of the Bradd family in Costa Del Sol. Though the loudness seemed to become Ciaro’s mark, he still held the pride of his family on his back with just as much weight as his greatsword. Not many foes could go toe to toe with him, but handling the weight of a sword covered in names of those he swore to protect was a sharpness and heaviness very few materials could resist for long.

He sat out in the moonlight on the back porch of his parents’ home. The full moon in the sky was often called an omen by some of he older generation, because it tended to bring the ‘crazies’ out. Though as true as it may have been, the moon brought with her memories of nights she shed light on. “You alright there, Kimmy?” Ciaro said to the wind. He shut his eyes and listened to the breeze. Its calm howl sent his imagination into a blissful state. He could imagine his now deceased lover’s voice in his mind. Though he had moved on a couple years after she passed…sometimes Ciaro couldn’t help but recall the warm smile and voice of the woman who first stole his heart. Maybe she would nag him or make a joke. Maybe she would just scoff and say everything was fine. He’d never truly know for sure, but the first option that spoke loudly in his mind was a positive one. He wanted to hear that she was happy, that she was happy for him. “Yeah? Well, sure the hell miss ya out here. I’m keepin’ my promise, though.” Ciaro reached over to his sword. Along the handle was the name ‘KIM’ carved in just where his hand gripped. His last promise to her before she passed of illness was to always be strong. She forced him to swear this, no matter how hysterical he was with his tears. Though it was by far the hardest promise he had to keep, the oath keeper in him refused to let him fall fully to his inner-darkness. He had Jordan now, and with her being strong came a bit easier. Though fear of losing her the same always rattled in the back of his mind. “You alright there, son?” Eddie, Ciaro’s father said from the doorframe. “You’re gonna catch cold if you sit out here all night. Come inside and have a drink with me and your mother huh?” “Did Juviare already leave?” Ciaro tilted his head up, but didn’t turn around to face his dad. “Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “Juviare’s got every right to leave early on a holiday. His girl couldn’t make it, and she’s pregnant. He’s still in town, Ciaro, you don’t gotta be mad at ‘em for not hangin in there with you.” Ciaro laughed out loud. “Ey! I ain’t mad at ‘em for that! He owes me Gil, and he swore he’d bring it this time. Like Ilena said…Juvi’s gonna take that gil to the grave. Cheap-ass.” Eddie was relieved to see Ciaro’s need for seclusion wasn’t based on his brother’s early exit. “Well he’s got it honest from my side of the family. So, what’s got you out here with the moon like a dumbass?” “I wanna be.” Ciaro retorted while standing. His large sword was swung over his shoulder and latched in place for later use. “Doing some light thinking. I might get back into the bodyguard business and loan myself out to people in need. It’s getting’ stale seein’ most of my friends getting in the mix of shit and I’m just sittin back here in town. I’m not gonna get any stronger fallin’ asleep in the middle of the day.” Eddie knew the feeling, as he’d given up adventuring to raise his children. Though Ciaro was still young. He didn’t have to put his desires to be an adventurer aside just because his father did, or because of children. “Let me put it this way, C.” Eddie began while setting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “There’s always something going on out there. It’s not gonna fall onto your lap, usually. You gotta go put your ear to the ground and find out who needs help. All the adventure in the world favors those who assist, yanno?” “H’yeah. I know. I take a lot from ya already, pop.” Ciaro gave his father a playful punch on the shoulder. A solid punch, but playful none the less. Eddie was able to take the blow where another man may have clutched their arm in pain. “I’m gonna head home and get some reps in before I crash. Tell ma I love’er will ya?” Ciaro left his father’s side and walked out front of the house so he could properly leave. No fence jumping this time.  He moved across the grassy lawn and onto the sidewalks. He traveled through his childhood neighborhood and passed several houses that the moon’s light illuminated with holograms of his childhood. At least in his mind. Many of his friends had moved way, and despite his renown as a hero, Ciaro still remained. Costa Del Sol was his home, and his home needed someone to protect it. As long as he could help it, he would always come home to keep it out of the way of otherwise world-shattering events. His trail home was long and uneventful. The city was most serene when she slept. Though her flamboyance came out by way of colorful gift shops and surfing shops in the town’s square. No one dared mug him for a few years now. It seemed that his reputation conciliated law enforcement enough to have his entire body registered as a deadly weapon; and news like that kept crime low when Ciaro was around. He was like a guard dog to most people; one that had a hell of a bite and bark to back him up. He arrived at the front porch of his home in record time. He left his door unlocked as a dare for any would-be thefts. To this day he hadn’t had a single break-in or visitor, and his security cameras kept very good track of this. With impressive strength came a fear from not only criminals, but most common people as well. Not many people stayed on his side of the street when he walked by. He was a freak, after all. Though he’d come to mostly accept the word, his inner anger usually bubbled to the surface whenever he thought about his past bullies. Even after he beat them to a bloody pulp with as few as four punches. The same punches that got him suspended, and eventually caused him to drop out of school because of bullying behavior from other students. He’s gotten by well, all things considered. With the education of a 15 year old, he’d taken on many foes many times greater than he with the combat know-how of a veteran. The plaques on his wall proved this point, as the city of Costa Del Sol had many plaques made for Ciaro’s greatest feats. Defeating the massive ‘Sand Cap’ Mushroom Monster was among the more recent, but the very first stated ‘Ciaro Bradd & Kimberly Eiji’ as the recipients for their slaying of the Blue Wraith. After setting his sword aside, Ciaro gazed upon the plaque and the coexisting photograph near it. It was back when Kim was healthy, and the two had just met. Ciaro didn’t even have a goatee then! After moving on from the photo he approached his bedroom. He sat on the edge as he always did with his forearms settled on his knees and his head full of thoughts he couldn’t quell. Not necessarily negativity, but things he hadn’t given a look in a long time. What was he to do with his life outside of adventuring? He had no fall-back. Fighting was his life, but he recognized it as a fatal flaw. He couldn’t stand it much longer. Ciaro got out of bed and shook the thoughts off. His palm pressed to his forehead as he fought off the creeping thoughts of depression trying to sink into his psyche. The one chink in his armor. The berserker forced out the thoughts and questions with more distractions. More training. More building and maintaining his physique. Though he was trying not to be a hulking freak of muscle, Ciaro needed more strength to also power his psyche and make him less vulnerable to negativity. As he moved the heavy metal bar toward his chest with his arms curling, he worked his way back up to happiness. There was more good in the future than there was pain in the past, and Ciaro had to remember that.

As the night faded and morning came, Ciaro woke feeling refreshed. Jordan was still out with her team, but there was something he looked forward to every morning other than seeing her, and breakfast as well. He learned from his mistakes with Kim in the past, and made-up for it with his current routine. He called Jordan the minute he woke up, or was woken-up rather by his phone. “Hey, you.” Ciaro said before she could say hello. “I miss the fuck out of your goddamn face. When the hell am I gonna see you again? You missed the holidays.” He was of course grinning on his end as he listened to her giggle. “Ciaro,” Jordan sighed. “A lot is going on. I miss you too, so don’t pretend it’s one-sided.” “Yanno what I’m gonna do when I see you?” Ciaro squinted and leaned back onto his pillow. “Don’t,” Jordan smiled. “I’m surrounded by people, and Li Mei can hear REALLY well --.” “I’m gonna pick you up by the waist, and I’m gonna kiss the livin’ shit outta you, woman. I’m gonna rub your feet, I’m gonna rub your back, and I’m gonna take you out to that fuckin’ Kalmanian restaurant you like, and I’m gonna love the fuck outta you.” Ciaro rambled on with a hyena like cackling as his absurd claims continued.

“I’m hanging up, now!” Jordan laughed. “I love you, dummy. Wash your mouth out for me after all those lies.” When she hung up, Ciaro snorted and tossed his phone onto the pillow beside him. Hopefully his ‘charm’, if it could be called that, brought a smile to the squire’s face. If there was anything the moon taught him, it was that consistency was all that mattered at the end of the day. She shined bright over Costa every night to remind them of the past, but also to give them a peek into what the future may hold. She pulled on the tide, showing that turbulent times did come…but were also temporary. If he stayed consistent with her, with affection, and with his communication, she would know that he was always thinking of her. So, if the time came when they should ever be forced to part planes of existence…, there would be no lingering questions or ‘what-ifs’ about how he felt. Many words were left unsaid to Kimberly, and that was the main contributor to him struggling to keep his final promise to her.   Just like the moon which came and went in phases, Ciaro prepared himself for a transition into a new phase of life. A new chapter which would truly bring him to his full potential physically, mentally, and spiritually. If this new phase was to be his full moon, he’d embrace his full potential willingly.  However, that may have been too soon for his liking. In the very least, this was a new moon’s light preparing to shine forward.