Microfic Sunday #1

I started writing microfic because of this blog post. It seemed like a good way to keep inspiration flowing. I’ve dedicated my tumblr blog to micro posts, including microfic, pictures, and brief updates or comments. Just trying out a new things. Minimalism can be really fun. Anyway, from now today is Microfic Sunday, where I post all the pieces from the week. Hope you enjoy them.

***

Rest is overrated. Buy our adreno-pump today and work your way to Mars.

***

“If you sniffle one more time I’ll get out the anti-matter ray.”

“This isn’t a voluntary reflex you know.”

***

The world was her playpen, only its edges were burned.

***

The view was divine. The planet’s ocean shimmered like a bright sapphire in the morning sun. Too bad he had to blow the place up.

***

Don’t think Blade and Vampire Hunter D represent all of us daywalkers. That’d be a fatal mistake.

***

It’s all fun and games until someone summons a hellhound.

***

It never occurred to her that jumping off a cliff might be fatal. Why wouldn’t her wing move?

 

26: The Desire to Disappear

Julia sipped on her coffee, sifting through the images in a bridal magazine. As usual, she arrived an hour before the morning rush. Her job was to man the small coffee shop, but it was always nice to get there early and look through the dresses. The routine was new; she’d only worked at the place for two weeks now, but it felt like home. Her boss loved the way she handled every customer with polite interest, and that ensured her happy stay even through the rest of her graduate classes.

The fact that she was back in classes again, back in New York at all was amazing. After she first merged with water, after trying her best to fall out of love with her professor, she managed to come into her own again. She learned to embrace her powers instead of fear them, and the ability to control her time being one with the water increased with daily practice. Gradually, she experimented. Sometimes she managed to put her arm in water and manipulate the entire mass. Once, she created a water castle out of her bath water, only her  upper body still corporeal, but it only held form for a few minutes. Somehow there was a way to make some good of this. She knew it.

These things were what she pondered usually, happy that the small college town was slow around seven. But on that particular morning, one person came in ahead of the crowd.

“Welcome to The Coffee Nook, I’ll be right with you.” She rushed to put up the magazine, tucked her coffee in a small corner out of customer sight, and flashed her best smile.

It faded in an instant as Karl Norton blinked. He seemed sincerely upset and forlorn at the sight of her, but he walked up to the counter anyway, staring at the menu behind her with excessive intensity. “I’ll have a mocha Frappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

“Why the third one? Having a rough day already?” She closed her eyes and mentally kicked herself. He was just another customer. Nothing more. He wasn’t hers — he was never really hers.  Continue Reading

Day 25: Crossroads: a Dominant Race Story

Damon walked through the crowd with his hoodie up to help block the cold wind. Everyone stood in front of a small stage. A man in a white suit walked up to the microphone and announced what they all knew already: Hugh’s City was shutting their newly built walls and offering no help to Bren. The “modified scourge” was something they had to deal with on their own.

They had to deal with people like him.

He weaved through couples and families with almost fluid movements, aware of a crack in the bodies as if drawn to it. No one noticed his hand dip into pockets and take money, phones, wallets. It was too easy.

Until a hand grabbed his wrist. Forcing himself not to panic, Damon smiled and tried to walk on. But the hand refused to let go. The guy wasn’t much older than Damon, and his jacket was too big for him, but something in his grip warned Damon to be cautious.

“You’ll get killed if you stay here.”

Damon yanked his wrist away and bolted for the outskirts of town. On some level, he knew he was honestly lucky the guy hadn’t revealed him right then and there for the mob to destroy. Damn. He stuck to the side streets at first, but when no one, not even a single car, crossed his path he bolted at top speed towards an old dirt road. It led to his hideaway, a mile or two north of Bren. He just hoped the guy wouldn’t be interested enough to follow him there.

But when he got to the dirt road, he knew he wasn’t that lucky after all. Continue Reading

Day 20: Kaemarre and Devaros: a Half Life Story

Devaros stared through the smoky room at the dancers. The players rapped out a lighthearted, very jovial tune, and he tapped his foot despite himself. At the center of the room was Kaemarre, the darkest elfwoman he’d ever seen. She was truly the greatest beauty from the forest towns, that much had always been apparent. And her eyes. Such golden, beautiful eyes both wild and brimming with a type of happiness Devaros never knew. He never got over that look, not once in the past seven seasons.

She smiled at him and waved for him to come forward. With a small shrug, he shook his head. This time, she ignored his silent rebukes and ran towards him, gripping his hand hard. She was so warm.

“Since it’s my last night here, you will grace me with at least one dance, my lord. Or did you intend to stare at me the entire time and let me go home without a word?” She grinned. “Come.”

His heart tried to deny how much he enjoyed her movements around him, how much he loved to watch her skirt twirl, but before the night was done, he was smiling, laughing, and twirling with equal spirit. It was hard for him to let go of his reserve; after all, he held many enemies being Master Harbinger. Still, he let go and allowed Kaemarre to show him a world he only watched.

The night ended too quickly. Continue Reading