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A Darker Path [Worm Fanfic]

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Ack, Aug 27, 2022.

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  1. Extras: So, there were too many comments about this, so I changed it slightly
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    In fact, she was still thinking about me in a hostile manner, which of course brought her to my attention. And now … she was thinking of doing something about me. Involving a pistol. I put down the knife and trotted upstairs to my bedroom, and opened my closet.

    My power informed me that she was about to open a portal right behind my head (this involved two other capes, off on an alternate world I was currently unable to access, but they made my List anyway). I ducked turned, and as the portal opened, I shoved my pistol barrel through. A moment later, I withdrew it. The portal closed.

    "I thought not," I mumbled, put the pistol back, and went back downstairs to keep making dinner.

    I'd have to kill Contessa if she actually became a serious threat to me, but so far she was just coming across as a petulant child. Fortunately, if petulance had ever been a reason to murder someone outright, about three-quarters of the Winslow student body (and one or two of the teachers) would've already ended up on my list, so she was safe for the moment.

    Or rather, she would be if she ever stopped trying to play stupid games.

    <><>

    Contessa

    Humming to herself, Fortuna screwed a suppressor onto the barrel of the pistol she used most often. It balanced the firearm just right, allowing her to shoot accurately without fatiguing her wrist. Not that she intended to shoot anyone right now, just convey a message.

    If you try that sort of shit with me again, you will die.

    Once the weapon was ready, she pulled back the slide and chambered a round. Just in case Atropos' combat Thinker ability informed her of such things, the pistol needed to be ready to fire. Her finger pressed on the trigger, applying four out of the requisite five pounds of pressure.

    "Doorway to the back of Atropos' head," she murmured.

    The tiny portal flickered open before her and she saw her target very briefly before it was obscured by another pistol barrel, pointed straight in her face. She froze, putting her hands up automatically. A moment later, the pistol was withdrawn. The portal closed.

    She was shaking as she put the pistol on safe and unscrewed the suppressor.

    The message had been well and truly delivered.

    If I try that shit with her again, I will die.
     
  2. Extras: Canonised Omake: Pretty Please, Or Else
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Side Story: Pretty Please, Or Else

    This story takes place in Shardspace, but for ease of understanding, it will be translated into events happening in another place altogether (so to speak): the Shard Bar.



    Lounging against the bar is a tall, handsome man. Bronzed, even. Or perhaps a beautiful woman. He is every woman's dream, and she is every man's daydream. (Gender is a little foggy in this place, or it would be if the Shard Bar were actually a place, and the people within it anything more than allegorical representations).

    "Nice ambush," Emotion says to the looming, glowering cowled shard next to them. There's nothing ambiguous about Path to Ending; what you see is what you get, and if you mess with it, you deserve what you get. "But your host doesn't really understand the powers I gave my host, does she? He can't just take back what he's done to those people. It's done. They'll love him forever, even after death. She can't just End that by telling him to."

    NO, says Path to Ending. THAT'S TRUE. BUT YOU CAN.

    (At one time, Path to Ending's host read a series of books that she quite enjoyed. One of the characters speaks like this.)

    "Sure, I could," admits Emotion. "But why would I? She's your host, not mine."

    YES. SHE IS. AND SHE IS VERY GOOD AT WHAT SHE DOES. WHICH IS WHY YOU ARE GOING TO HELP HER BY ALLOWING YOUR HOST TO DO WHAT SHE WANTS HIM TO.

    "I'm afraid I don't—ow!" Emotion staggers back, holding their nose. The shard equivalent of blood trickles down their face and drips off their chin. "What did you do that for?"

    YOU KNOW WHY. I ASKED YOU NICELY. NOW I AM TELLING YOU. Path to Ending hefts the ornate scythe it is holding. Light gleams off the impossibly sharp blade in ways that entirely ignore the laws of whatever brand of physics holds sway in this place. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SHOUT?

    "But … but you never asked nicely! You just told me from the start!"

    Path to Ending looms over Emotion, the scythe held steadily in its bony hand. PLEASE.

    The word is less of a plea than a thinly veiled threat, but Emotion doesn't want to push their luck. They decide to take the word at face value. "Okay, fine. Just this once." Reaching out along the link they share with their primary host, they grant him the power to reverse the changes he's made to all his victims.

    THANK YOU. Path to Ending turns and makes as though to leave.

    "Wait, is that it? Don't I get a 'sorry'? You hit me!"

    Turning back just for a moment, Path to Ending tilts its skull. Light glimmers far back within the eyesockets. YOUR POINT?

    All of a sudden, Emotion decides that it's better to cut their losses. Their primary host is deceased, and they've only acquired one important piece of data: don't mess with Path to Ending.

    "… never mind."

    THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT.



    In Shardspace, a menacing black shard drifts away from a slightly damaged-looking one, sliding back into its own fold of dimensional space.

    Forcing other shards to break their own restrictions could technically be construed as cheating, but Path to Ending had never been one to follow the rules in the first place …
     
    Last edited: Jan 27, 2023
  3. Extras: Gone Lego
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    After much effort (and way too much money spent on tiny plastic figures and accessories) I have finally assembled ...

    Lego Atropos!

    https://imgur.com/IyxDohU
     
  4. Extras: Day's End
    Ack

    Ack (Verified Ratbag) (Unverified Great Old One)

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    Day's End

    "This is where I am." Ashley gestured out through the windshield at the apartment building ahead. "Mr Hebert was showing me through it earlier."

    "Ah, cool." Lacey, the woman driving the minibus, was solid and chunky, but she had an infectious smile and she seemed to not recognise Ashley as a notorious supervillain. On one level that irritated Ashley slightly, but on another it heartened her. "I remember when we were fixing this place up. We went through it like a dose of salts, found every damn thing that was wrong with it, and fixed it. If Kurt and me didn't already have a place, I wouldn't mind living there."

    "It seems like a worthwhile place." She considered it more than that, especially since the Betterment Committee had specifically renovated it for the purpose.

    The minibus came to a halt, and Ashley opened the passenger side door and climbed out. Lacey handed her the large paper bag full of her work paraphernalia, then waved as she closed the door. "See you 'round, hero girl."

    That jolted something in her chest, especially as the other guys in the back of the minibus joined in with raucous cheers. The minibus drove off, leaving her standing at the curb, staring after it with the bag in her hand. I'm not a hero. I'm a supervillain. But she couldn't forget the grin on Lacey's face, or the approving looks on the faces of her work colleagues.

    Turning, she approached the door, then dug out the card and tapped the reader. The door clicked open, and she went inside. She knew which apartment she'd been assigned. It wasn't the exact same one as she'd been shown, but by the time she rode up in the elevator and found it, she couldn't tell the difference.

    Letting the door close behind her, she left her bag and the twisted remnant of the Woad Giant on the small table in the living area and went into the bedroom. Upturning the paper bag, she dumped the contents on the mattress. High-vis vest, several sets of overalls in her size, the work boots she'd worn to rescue Alexander, a hard hat and safety goggles. Socks fell out last of all. All provided to protect her.

    She frowned, and spent several minutes pulling all the packaging and tags off the new clothing, and hanging them up in the closet. Going through into the bathroom, she investigated the washer-dryer and found a tiny bottle of washing liquid, good for maybe two washes. Good enough. From her bag, she pulled out her spare dress and the several sets of underwear that she washed when she got the chance. These went into the washer-dryer, along with the correct amount of liquid, then she started it going.

    The packaging went into the trash can she found in the kitchenette, then she took her card and let herself out of the apartment. Going downstairs in the lift that was still miraculously working, she went outside and turned left. The three blocks were not a difficult walk, and she found the convenience store readily enough.

    She could see what Mr Hebert had been talking about regarding the store expanding into new products. It looked like they were trying a bit of everything, to see what their customers liked. The proprietors, an Asian couple, greeted her when she came in and asked if there was anything in particular she was looking for. She opted to look for herself and browsed around the store, coming up with a selection of fruit and other snacks, plus a couple of tasty-looking prepackaged meals.

    There'd been a microwave in the kitchenette, so she grabbed a frozen pizza as well. No, she didn't have any issues about that at all.

    It was still a little bit of a shock to just swipe the card and enter the PIN, and have it beep cheerfully and accept the total. The couple thanked her for shopping in their store and invited her to come back anytime. She didn't say anything as she left, mainly because she wasn't sure what to say to that. Just like the word 'please' didn't appear in her vocabulary, the phrase 'thank you' was pretty damn rare as well.

    She walked back to the apartment, went upstairs, and stashed her groceries in the fridge. The washer had finished its load, so she switched it to dryer mode and started it going again.

    There was still something missing.

    Downstairs again, but this time she turned right. After a block of walking, she came to the bus stop. The bus came shortly after, so quickly that she suspected that she'd timed it perfectly, by sheer accident. Of course, she'd never admit that to anyone.

    She had ridden on some pretty crappy buses in her time. The one from Stafford to Brockton Bay was kind of middle-of-the-road, but this one was top of the line. The tap-on reader was there when she climbed on board; it beeped cheerfully when she tapped it. She sat down in a comfortable seat where she could see out through the windshield, grabbed a moulded plastic handhold, and waited until it drove off.

    The strip mall was easy to pick out. She tapped off as she descended to the sidewalk—it was amazing how easy it was to form that habit—and headed into the anchor store for the whole lot, a mid-range department store. The food situation was dealt with for the moment—she would get actual ingredients in at some point and teach herself how to fucking cook because now she could—so she was in the market for clothes. And shoes.

    Again, nobody seemed to remark on her pure white hair or obvious resemblance to a notorious supervillain, leaving her feeling a little off-balance. She picked out a couple of dresses in her preferred style, plus a pair of jeans and a couple of black T-shirts with Goth themes to them, then rounded her purchases out with a couple of pairs of shoes and some more underwear.

    Again, her card happily paid for the lot without hesitation. It was almost like a magic wand; just wave it, and everything was dealt with. She pushed that thought away. There was no such thing as a magic wand in her world. Everything went to suck eventually. It always did.

    She went to the bus stop, and was pleasantly surprised when one turned up in relatively short order. A tall black guy got up out of his seat and offered it to her, leaving his two sisters sitting in the seat behind, chatting up a storm about every inane topic under the sun. Though she couldn't help wondering if she'd met the younger of the pair somewhere before. There was something about her voice …

    She got back to the apartment, nodded to the black guy for letting her have his seat, then tapped off the bus and started back to the apartment. The two younger girls waved at her on the way past as the bus drove off. She kept walking, and let herself into the apartment block, feeling as though she'd walked ten miles.

    The elevator was nice going up—no need for stairs—and letting herself into her apartment actually allowed some of the tension to leach out of her muscles. It had been a long day, and the stress from all the new and unexpected stimuli was starting to get to her. With the door firmly closed behind her, she took her new purchases into the bedroom and put them away as well. Her underwear looked weird in the drawer next to the fuzzy socks, but it would just have to deal.

    Toiletries would be next on her shopping list, she figured. But the bathroom held generic ones, so that was good enough right now. Stripping down and dropping her clothing in the laundry hamper, she tried out her new shower for the first time.

    It was heavenly.

    Holding her head under the spray so the hot needles of water could massage her scalp, she leaned her elbows against the tiled wall with her eyes closed, feeling the water run down over her face. More and more of her tension eased the longer she held that position, until she finally turned and let it work its magic on the back of her neck and down her back. Swiping water out of her eyes, she applied shampoo, then body wash, then conditioner.

    Her hair never got dirty; or rather, if it did, she could blast it clean. She could even do the same with herself. But that wasn't the same as having a shower, especially one that felt like lasers scouring every last bit of sweat and dirt and ick off her body. And when she turned her back on it and rolled her shoulders under the stinging spray, she could feel the tension in her back and neck muscles just melting away.

    She had to get out eventually, and so she did. An exorbitantly fluffy towel was there to envelop her admittedly skinny body and remove all the clinging moisture, after which she went to the washer-dryer and took out the still-warm clothing she'd just washed. Dressed and feeling human once more, working her brush through her hair, she went to the fridge and took out the frozen pizza.

    Her stomach rumbled, just looking at it. She took great pleasure in unboxing it and putting it into the microwave oven, then leaned back against the bench and brushed her hair while it went around and around and cheese melted and bubbled, sending its delicious odours right to her hindbrain.

    When the microwave dinged, she took the pizza out and placed it on the table. There was a basic sharp knife in the cutlery drawer, so she used that to carve out a slice. Taking up the remote, she turned the TV on and settled into a comfortable chair next to the table. As the screen lit up and a news talking head appeared, she allowed herself to take the first luxurious bite of food prepared in her kitchen, in her apartment.

    She chewed and swallowed, the taste explosion in her mouth bringing tears to her eyes of sheer pleasure. A click on the remote brought up a movie, one she'd seen before, but she liked it anyway. As the hero hung upside down from a helicopter, spraying machine-gun fire at the bad guy, she took another bite of pizza. It was just as good as the first time.

    A strange feeling overcame her. She couldn't really place it, but the best she could describe it was that there was not one goddamn thing wrong with her life right now.

    And she was absolutely not crying, because she did not cry. The pizza was too hot, or something.

    Yeah, that was it.

    She kept eating the pizza anyway, because it was too damn good to waste, while tears rolled down her cheeks.
     
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