Diamond Shards

This is the place to recount your superheroic deeds for all to gaze upon with astonishment and wonder.
Diamond
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Diamond Shards

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:23 am

Hi, I feel like writing, and I particularly feel like writing about super heroes.

Rather than one ongoing story, I'm just going to type up short pieces of flash fiction, diamond shards, set in a world of the weird and wonderful. Frankly, most aren't even going to be stories in the proper sense, just a moment, less than a hour's glimpse into this world.

I'm not sure how it's going to work, since these next stories are going to be written straight into the thread, no editing, just stuff of the genre occult modern atomic shoved out of my head and onto the cold street that is anonymous internet posting. :lol:

Diamond
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Salvation's Plea

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:23 am

The first came out of the fog, not in that she stepped through it, but that she was simple not there- then was. This fading woman wore a cloak made of night, and hooded as she was, seemed to have no face beneath it.

The second arrived in a patchwork truck, a great rumbling thing, years old, it's headlights piercing the heavy grey. He was not a man of wealth, or taste, no; but he was a demon. He stepped from his vehicle, tipping his wide brimmed hat to the woman and lit a cigarette with his tongue.

The third landed serenely in front of the pair, a man in his late twenties, or early hundreds, dresses all in hope and glory, red and gold, neo-reflex plastics and dragon mane. He set his hand to his jaw and peered at them like a cowboy at noon.

"Why are we here?" the demon said pointedly, who was already on his second cigarette and keenly aware he only had one left.

The ageless man whistles low, and raised his eyebrows in mock surprise, "Don't you know?"

"I'm not psychic, they call me Renegade, not Strider." he hissed, his cigarette burning up into ash and falling to the cold grass.

"Well damn it, read a paper some time, those journalists don't write for nothing!" he barked.

"A girl died here." cooed the woman, her hands outstretched and twitching, as if pricking on some invisible harp.

"They do that, do people." the demon stated flatly, and when neither of them replied, he added, "Die."

"Yes. They do. But what they don't tend to do is evaporate. I heard her screaming yesterday, it was 13:22, I was one and a quarter miles from her, plenty of time to make it to here- I heard her heart fail as I saw her. Nothing I could see was attacking her, and believe me, I was looking, really looking." he paused, grimacing.

"Then it took the body away." whispered the cloaked shade as she softly circled the site, her fingers creeping through the gathering mists.

"Are you saying you need help? You? The last of the greats? Salvation?" the demon said, half gloating, half frightened.

"Yes. I am. I'm a walking stereotype, you know that, I've heard it said often enough. If I can't hit this thing head on, I'm out of my depth."

"What are you thinking Mystery?" the smoking infernal called out, unsure where the woman was stood.

"Something old. Something predatory. Something intelligent. Something careful." she trailed off, her hands stopped dead, as if grasped at the wrist, "Something beautiful."

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In Transit

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:35 am

Transit, which is just his name now, isn't very good with his abilities, he thinks, let alone a vigilante, he just hangs around with Joe, alias Flare, and Matty, who still wasn't sure what his handle should be, and well, he didn't know what to wear to the induction, what with his wardrobe consisting of latex and pink dresses.

The induction, the signing of pen to paper to say you'll uphold the law and that, well, if it goes wrong it's all on you, was a little intimidating to a guy who was essentially just a living transportation devise for two violent queers with what he felt were obvious mental problems. Also it was raining for God's sake, funeral rain.

He eventually settled on a long sleeved purple top and a kilt, hoping his shaved legs might be passed over if he sits at the desk quick enough, and as little make-up as he could stand.

Transit was almost revealed in an odd way, that when he met up with Flare and Matty, who was "Moshpit" today; they were dressed in what can only be referred to as a storm of rainbow and fake metal studs. Perhaps he might look normal?

"You know for a fact they've seen worse than us through that door babes." asserted Matty, "What's some teenagers compared to elves and aliens! Nothing, thats what."

"But none of them are, you know." Transit whined.

A couple walked by wearing mockingly normal jeans and t-shirts with slogans on, though secretly Transit found such t-shirts sinister and a sign of imminent mega-corporate take over.

Flare was spinning his umbrella idly, he thought for a moment, "I heard Mortar and Brick are proper gay."

"Get out." said Transit, the tension already easing, "They're two old bikers…"

Flare smirked and leant against his umbrella for a moment, like a Technicolor Sherlock Holmes, before swinging it back over his head.

"Heres our bus me amigos, lets go! Hey, what do you think about "Disaster"?" piped Matty.

"Yes." said Transit.
Last edited by Diamond on Tue Sep 13, 2011 11:58 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Diamond
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They Call Me Strider

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 10:41 am

One day, I fell asleep, and I never woke up.

They call me Strider; because I can walk between the smokey places and see things that no one else can.

I look how I want to look, like my dad, like my brother who went off to soldier, but with a big grey coat and a funny eyes, like the moon. I tried to fix them once, but they always turn back to little moon-eyes.

One day, I fell asleep, and I never woke up.

I talk to people some times. Some times I visit them, some times they come to me. Other times I don't see people for a very long time, since there isn't much time where I live.

I try to do it right, like my dad would, I try to tell them what they need to know. It is very hard. I pretend I'm serious and mean, like a teacher, because they need that too, I think.

But if I'm really honest, and you can keep a secret can't you? I don't really know what's going on, all I really know is: One day, I fell asleep, and I never woke up.

Diamond
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...

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 12:58 pm

...
Last edited by Diamond on Tue Jun 05, 2012 6:46 am, edited 2 times in total.

Diamond
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They Call Him the Pugilist

Postby Diamond » Tue Sep 13, 2011 11:55 pm

There are few people in this world that can calmly step through a hole in a wall created by a rampaging science-gone-wrong, but the Pugilist can.

In contrast, almost anyone can get knocked back through a hole in a wall by one.

"So that's how you wanna play this?", was what the Pugilist was about to say, but quick as a flash he was lifted and thrown again.

"No more mister nice guy!", was a pipe dream at this point. What he actually managed to exclaimed was "Graaah! Unff."

The Pugilist clambered back to his feet just in time to see the beast marching towards him on it's many limbs, he thought he could hear drums. That might have been a concussion.

The beast swung low with it's enormous tentacle, taking out tables and office chairs on it's way to remove the Pugilist's legs.

At this point the Pugilist took a moment to consider his life so far.

TO BE CONTINUED


(I've always wanted to say that, more after I go to a meeting of a sort)
Last edited by Diamond on Sat Sep 17, 2011 11:56 am, edited 2 times in total.


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