mindcracklove | Fic - Arguments | Please Wake

I figured I'd take the risk and venture here. *shrug* Also to clear out my inbox. So I was wandering around on the Salad Server a few days ago and I found some books I wrote. They were so-so and I figured it wouldn't hurt to post them here. They're basically copied word for word besides some minor editing and a few cuts to 'Freedom'. Enjoy.

Arguments

Nannyn huffed, storming out of her and Squid’s shared apartment. She twirled the car keys on her index finger – might as well go get some groceries while she was out. Her girlfriend certainly wouldn’t be the one doing it.

Revving up their (their, not hers or Squid’s) beat up, ten year old Toyota, she backed out of the driveway carefully. As she drove she asked herself, what did they need? Milk, eggs, probably, flour, beMcause Squid loved to bake, and also some sugar. Possibly some soy sauce, for when Mew came over. Which was two or three times a week. Mew really liked soy sauce. And why not?

Calming down slightly as the engine hummed, Nan drove down the deserted road. Not so strange at 10 PM, although generally it wasn’t ever quite this empty. She decided to turn on the radio, something she didn’t do often. She found it distracting (always worried about getting in an accident) but it was 10 PM, hardly any cars were out on the road.

“The weather tomorrow will be around 50 F-“ “~Oh the weather outside is frightful, and the fi-“ “~Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bell R-“ “And now, for News 11. A man with a gun has been-“ “Sheryl, the nautical talk show, Blue Whales-“

Nannyn frowned, turning back a channel. Men with guns were never good news. But by the time she had located the channel, they were already talking about something else, an accident on a nearby highway.

She sighed, waving it off. News 11 liked to cover quite a few towns, not just their own, quiet town of Saladia.

It was around midnight by the time she pulled into the drive. Much to her surprise, Squid was standing shivering on the doorstep. The moment she saw Nannyn step out of the car, she bolted towards her, wrapping cold arms around her torso.

“Hey now, what’s up?” Nannyn gently detached Squid, holding her a few inches away. “You’re freezing!”

Squid stared at Nan, a tear streaking down her cheek. “I was so worried!” she cried, reaching out to hug Nan tightly. As Nan stroked Squid’s hair, and contemplated the reasons why Squid was so worried, she fell upon a passable reason.

“Squid, you know I’m careful when I’m driving.”

“But accidents happen, and you sometimes take that highway to go to the mall.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. Help me bring in the food, alright?”

Bags in hand, Nan and Squid dumped them on the kitchen island. Quickly, Nannyn dragged Squid to the living room, plopping down on the couch.

“We’re watching movies for the rest of the night,” Nan declared. “And no arguments this time.”

She smiled at Squid, who grinned back.

“Alright.”

~*~

Please, Wake

He could only ever belong to the fire.

Even if he tried his best to fit in, even if he gave everything he had, even if…

Nothing would change their minds.

Right?

So he sat in his Nether base, walls of stone surround him, as he tried his best to believe he had a place in this wretched world, which he fit in, that people accepted him.

Never. It would never work. He would never…

The stones were unbearably hot most of the time. He barely went to the overland now, afraid of what anger he would face, the swords slashing at him, the nocked bows, the sneering voices.

All he had was the fire. He managed to scramble a living together with sickly cows for food, hardly eating, almost never drinking. He grew sickly, and the rare times that he did step through his portal…

No one ever noticed.

~*~

Months passed. He continued to weaken, until at last, he collapsed in a fever wracked, shivering heap, slumped up against the scorched walls of his home. The heat was stifling. He could barely breathe.

Staring ahead with glazed eyes, goggles blurring his vision more than clearing it, he could see the transparent swirls of his Nether portal.
Perhaps… Just maybe…

He slowly dragged himself towards the portal, excruciating by excruciating inch. Finally he made it, and let himself be dumped onto blessedly cool dirt, shaded by oak and birch trees. He coughed, the motion rattling his starved and malnourished body. He lay on the ground listlessly, body still blazing with heat. Even in the overland… He chuckled, a sound like broken chain rasping over solid steel.

His body would only ever belong to the fire.

~*~

“Hey Paul. Is he any better?”

The elder ranger shook his head wearily, taking his hat off his head. “I’m afraid not Zisteau,” he said sadly. Paul looked down at the body laid out in front of him. A cool cloth lay on the burning forehead, although it barely had any effect. Green goggles were discarding on a bedside table, lenses glowing dully, a sad reminder of their former luster.

Zisteau gripped the wooden door frame tightly, scratching deep gouges with his fingers. “It’s all my fault,” he growled, closing his eyes. He could see it clearly. Vechs hadn’t been looking very well when he had asked the younger male to go on a Nether expedition with him. He had been unusually pale and tired, voice quieter than normal.

They had been exploring a Nether Fortress, the brick stones warm beneath his feet. It hadn’t been too bad, honestly. But he had forgotten one crucial thing. He was a native born Pigman, resistant to heat and fire. Vechs was not.

They’d wandered away from each other while exploring. Zisteau had been wandering around the hall of the fortress, when he had come across Vechs, slumped against the bricks, sword lying on the floor. He had been simply blazing with fever, short, incoherent words and moans spilling from his mouth, limp, unresisting when Zisteau supported him. He could barely walk, and when they were close to the portal, he collapsed, completely exhausted. Hastening his efforts, Zisteau bought him to the first person he could think of, Paul.

And now, here they were, Vechs still deathly ill, and they didn’t know what it was. He often said thing, occasionally cringing away from a touch, or even from help, sometimes. There had been a time when the B-Team had visited him. Or they had tried to.

Vechs had been fairly calm right up to the point where Bdubs started to talk to him. It was like his body had been electrified – he’d cried out, a shrill note of fear and terror, body jerking in random spasms. Paul had ordered them both out in a semi-harsh tone. As much as Bdubs or Genny was his friend, their actions together didn’t appease him as easily.

After they had left, Vechs had slowly begun to calm down. That was how Zisteau found out that Vechs had been smacked around by the B-Team. They were probably still running from the unshakable PauseUnpause.

Zisteau forced air through his teeth, hissing softly. He walked into the room, sitting down in a chair, next to Paul.

“It’s not your fault,” Paul said gently. “Vechs knew he was sick, he knew what he was getting into. If anything, he’s as much to blame.”

Zisteau nodded, breathing in again. “It’s just…” He seemed at a loss for words. “We’ve been friends for a long time. I’ve played a lot of his creations. But I don’t think I’ve ever told him… How much I really… Really appreciated those creations. They were hard, y’know. Challenging me when I really needed to be challenged.” He shook his head, putting his face in his hands. “I’m a terrible friend,” he mumbled despairingly.

Paul looked at him sternly. “You did nothing wrong, Zisteau,” he said firmly. “If anything, you saved his life. Had he been alone, he probably wouldn’t have made it out.” He patted the pigman’s shoulder carefully, before getting up. “I’ll be back later. I need to get some things.”
He left the room, leaving Zisteau along with his thoughts.

“Vechs, won’t you wake up soon?” he said in a pained whisper. “Why won’t you just wake up? What are you thinking?” Sighing, he resoaked the cool cloth, placing it back on Vechs’ forehead. He smoothed back damp black hair, tracing Vechs’ cheek with a tender touch.
“C’mon Vechs… Please… Just wake up.”

~*~

Freedom
A king, hiding in his lair, was what he was.

A builder of worlds, the one that represented all evil… Who controlled all things terrible, and laughed… Laughed, at others demise.
That was what he was.

~*~

As a child, he never knew his father. At least, not very well. His mother had been mostly responsible for his upbringing. He had loved his mother very much. Even now, he could remember what she looked like in his childhood. She had always smiled, looking at him warmly with her bright green eyes. He didn’t inherit her eyes. Instead, he got her fair skin, although now, as an adult, he was tan.

His height came from his father, he knew that much. However, he was also thin and lanky, a trait he had also obtained from his mother.
However, none of that mattered now. The only thing that mattered was his blood heritage, for he was the Prince of Monsters, or the Monster Prince, for a shorter title. He was not the king, no, never the king, for his father was, and would always be, the king. His father, whom he had never known.

There had been rumors at first, then small happenings. His mother had never spoken much of his father, so what he knew, he had figured out on his own. His father had been the King of the Monsters, the Monster King, who ruled over all evil, and all evil bowed down at his feet.
As a child, his mother had told him to never wander outside at night without her. He however, had been a slightly rebellious child, and one night, had walked outside, full of wonder and curiosity.

He admired the stars, and smiled at the moon. He sat on the hill outside his house, not bothered by the faint chill. However, as with the moon and stars of night, came the monsters. He had been frightened then, as a child. He screamed for his mother, when the first Zombie Guards and Skeleton Archers crested the hill. When his mother came running out of the house however, she had been met with a curious sight.

Her son, her only son, face tear streaked and filled with shocked awe, stood in front of an army of monsters, all who stood bowed in front of him, awaiting a command. She had shouted at him, but they had only glared at her, not recognizing her as the Queen of Monsters. For she was not the true blooded Queen, and only had claim to the title as her status allowed. However, her son, only a dear seven or eight, lifted his head and spoke loud and clear, ordering the monsters away.

She watched, in slight awe, as they marched away military style, completely under the influence of her son. She had hustled him away quickly after that, but he had never been quite the same after that night. She knew his true inheritance after that. He had not gotten her blood, the one of all good, but the blood of all evil.

She knew, that one day, he would stand confused and alone, as people waved their swords at him, and shot him full of arrows. They would run him off, like she did her husband, because he represented all evil, the Prince of Monsters, the Monster Prince.
She knew.

~*~

He ran away from the city, stumbling in the grass, nearly blundering headlong into trees. He panted heavily, not stopping his headlong dash until he was several long miles away from the cursed place, and only then did he finally sink down to the ground, calling his army to protect him while he healed his wounds.

Several days and nights passed, and the Prince of Monsters slowly regained his strength. When he recovered, at the dawn of twilight, he summoned all the monsters that he could possibly summon to him, and marched to the closest Stronghold he knew.

He marched with his army to find the strongest of all monsters, the one they called the Ender Dragon. He found the portal to the End realm, and ordered all his guard to protect the portal with their undead life.

The moment he entered the End realm, he realized that he had made a terrible mistake. His claim, to the title ‘Prince of Monsters’ was not enough. The dragon refused to listen to a word he said. The Endermen also refused the listen, and he found himself attacked on all sides.
Recognizing his fate, he let himself go limp, as the Ender Dragon snapped at him one last time. The world faded to black, and at last, the world knew no more of the infamous Prince of Monsters.

~*~

“NO!” he howled, bolting upright in bed, hand extended in an outwards thrust of desperation. For a moment, Vechs’ remained there, heart thrumming with adrenaline, forehead beaded with cold sweat, before he crashed to the ground, groaning in pain. Wrapped up in bed sheets, Vechs let his hand drop to cover his eyes. “Just a dream,” he grumbled irately. “Just... a nightmare, holy god.”

“What are you doing?!” His less than pleased roommate growled at him. Bleary eyed, Zisteau squinted across the room at Vechs. “I’ve got a class at 6 am, and it’s only 3! What the hell man?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Vechs mumbled, untangling himself. “Just… Z, I had the weirdest, dream, you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t. Now go to sleep.”

“Screw you too Z…”

Note: I am not responsible for any confusion caused. I don't remember what mindset I was in when I wrote these, and hell if I don't remember. If you don't know why something is happening, I probably don't know why either. Also, tribute to Nannyn.