Stories and characters that I've created with little to no outside influence.
Enhanced - Full Pitch by ChildOfDumas, literature
Literature
Enhanced - Full Pitch
My name is Coryn. I'm an Enhanced. Years ago, someone went into my brain to make me better than human. They took natural abilities I had, such as being sensitive to the feelings of those around me, and magnified them. Now I feel what anyone around me feels, even trees and inorganics. I'm a Receiver. I live with my sister Cheryl, a Copier, and our friend Guy, a Lifter. We're all Mind - Enhanced.
Not everyone can be Enhanced. Most people can't take their brains being messed with. Whoever made us also made the Wretched. Brainless and completely mad, they can tear apart an entire building with thei
"Now the only sure way to get rid of that mouse," the first guard hadn't stopped talking, "is to squish it. Now, believe me, I wouldn't love nothin' more than squashin' that wan'ed man. But don't worry, that won't happen. You know why? Eh? 'Cause I like ya. Thas right! Yer that wan'ed guy! Don' worry though. Ya see, I think yer a great person even though yer wan'ed an' all. I mean the son of the king's murderer! You don' meet them every day. Do ya, Rikanik? It is Rikanik, right? You don' meet them every day, no, no. This is cause for celebration! Les' play a game, ta celebrate. It's called Beat Down, made the name up mesself. I think the
"Yessir," the man behind the counter caught the mug his customer threw to him. He bent under the prickly wood and came back out with a new mug full of beer, "I ain' nevah seen a man tha' could 'old 'is drink like you, stranger. Got tah be somethin' big that needs drownin', eh? You wanna tell me 'bout it? Mos' like you do."
The stranger's mouth tightened. He grabbed back the mug, "Your job is to pour. Not talk."
"Sorry, mistah. Din mean tah pry. But if I know troubles, I know what can solve 'em." The tender caught the attention of a barely dressed woman by hitting her with an empty mug, "You! Git over here!" The waitress glared b
Demons in Lucina Rough by ChildOfDumas, literature
Literature
Demons in Lucina Rough
Heathens, the Elders call them, heretics and barbarians.
Pachu'a agrees with the Elders. Then again, Pachu'a agrees with whatever the traditions say. The Water-clans aren't known for flexibility. Whatever the Old Beliefs say or the Elders teach, that is the only way. The surprising thing is Nootau agrees too. The two of them disagree on everything, except the Humans.
"There goes another one," Nootau's voice cracks and pops with heat. He shifts his black mass over the edge of our hiding spot, jeering at the Human gunman below. Just above his eye, smoke pushes around him.
Don't go in. The door, it tries to warn him. Her stares at it, at the numbers covered by a fake and faded wreath, at the freshly painted color that still looks dingy and worn. From here, from the outside, the door is his protector. It shields him from the inevitable. Each day, it begs him to walk away, to turn from everything familiar, to save himself. Each day he ponders the door's advice. He imagines fleeing to a new city, a new country. He fantasizes about a life of freedom, of smiles and laughter. For those few glorious moments, he sees his life as his own. He knows happiness.
The barricade
Tymaril Legend, Tehvi Villain by ChildOfDumas, literature
Literature
Tymaril Legend, Tehvi Villain
This tale is older than anyone I know. My grandmother heard it from her grandmother, who heard it from hers. Long before the moon bled, the Three Regions were one, united under one royal family long since broken. All loved their king and the kingdom knew peace.
An evil once brewed in the east. The ancestor of the royal family conquered this evil long before, but you can never completely rid the world of darkness. The armies of this fallen evil rose as one and brutally attacked the peaceful kingdom. Unprepared, the capital city was taken and all the family executed.
Save one prince, the youngest of the brothers.
He did not e
Trees and grass no longer existed within the village, nor in three hundred sixty-three paces from its edge. Flowers grew in pots filled with dirt in houses made of dirt. Dusty paths weaved through and around the dirt homes as if trying their best to avoid contact with the frail walls. During morning and midday the paths were full of people, each thinking their task was more important than the person's in front of them. Hardly anyone fought. If they did the men in shiny metal would take care of whatever problem started the fight. No one wanted that. To even get dirt on the polished silver would result in a beating. The last commoner to hit
PAGE ONE
The entire dream sequence is seen as photographs. In the background, behind the panels on the page, will be different scenes or flashes that are slightly associated with what is, or will be, happening.
Page one is kind of drastic. It is a scene from Greek mythology, where the immortal Charon rows to an unseen dock in Hades. Hades is cold and dark, a cave with no end in sight. Charon himself should look ancient and thin, as if rowing the small boat should break him at any moment. He is small, a minor detail, with the main focus on the massive cave, stalactites and weird rock formation. Of course, the panels come first in import