Ranger's Roundhouse

[Ranger of the North]

There's nothing worse than a villain who fully believes they're doing the right thing

Ikr! They're terrifying. They're just as unlikely to stop being cruel as the hero is to stop opposing evilness

[Ranger of the North]

xxxxx“Another!” *smashes mug*

Requirements: a mystery/action mashup between 1k and 1.2k words.

Genealogy

xxxxx“You — what?” Kaia faltered, and the falcon’s heart twisted. They’d been in the hidden valley for months now, his restlessness growing with every passing day. Everywhere he looked, it seemed there was another birds’-nest; he longed to know what had befallen his own family.
xxxxx“I must find my whānau,” he repeated.
xxxxx“But — Veil, I thought we’d made it!”
xxxxx“Yes, dear one, but I need to find them,” he insisted, bending from the girl’s shoulder to catch her gaze. She had to understand. “What if you never found out what happened to... Sir?” The man was Kaia’s not-quite father. “I need this. What if they’re still alive? Why did they leave me!” He screeched suddenly, overwhelmed by anger and confusion.
xxxxx“No yelling in my ear, tama.”
xxxxxKaia worked in silence for a moment, preparing thread for stitching an eagle’s badly-gashed talon. Then, “Alright,” she murmured, “but —”
xxxxx“Thank you!” Veil gripped a strand of hair in his beak, tugging it affectionately. Releasing her shoulder, he hopped up onto her head and spread his wings, heart soaring with jubilation.
xxxxx“Wait — Veil, wait!” Kaia gasped, and the bird grumbled as fingers ensnared his leg.
xxxxx“I’ll be back,” he whistled in disgust. “I’ll be back before the moon wanes —” that was just over a week away — “whether I find them or not.”
xxxxxKaia nodded feverishly, releasing him. “I know,” she whispered, “I know. It’s just...
xxxxx“Go,” she gulped finally. “Go, and may the wind bless your wings.”
xxxxxThe falcon dipped his head, gratitude and relief combined beneath his feathers. “And the land your feet,” he whistled gently. Then, anxiety and exhilaration warring in his heart, he sprang aloft and winged away over the mountains.
xxxxxKaia watched after him, eyes dark with trouble.

~ ~ ~

xxxxxThat night, a vicious, screaming wind ripped Veil from the sky and tossed him away. A boulder rushed out of nowhere to greet the stunned bird.
xxxxxForcing himself sideways in a gut-wrenching dive, Veil barely missed the jagged edge and hastily righted himself once more, heart pounding a war-dance in his chest. Rain streaked down from above, trickling through his feathers to race icy-fingered across his skin. Cyclone.
xxxxxA sudden spear of lightning glared to life only metres in front of his beak, and with a sharp cry of alarm he veered back on himself — and smashed full-speed into a rattling mesh fence.
xxxxxWith a shriek of alarm his wings snapped open, and he landed awkwardly.
xxxxxSnapping his beak irritably at the delay, Veil stalked into the bushes.

~ ~ ~

xxxxxA bitter wind howled a doleful song across the countryside. Veil hunkered down in the lee of a fallen tree to preen, eyeing the storm balefully.
xxxxxA chill crept down his spine, and tucking his head firmly under his wing, he coolly slept the night away.

~ ~ ~

xxxxxVeil blinked owlishly in the early-morning sunlight. Leaves and branches littered the ground, testament to last night’s fury, and he yawned dismissively. He was lord of the sky, uncowed by any storm. But something off-putting hovered in the breeze. Something... sinister.
xxxxxWarily, he crept from his shelter — and froze. Nearby was an old, old nest — a scrape in the ground — but the scent that hung like a half-forgotten memory told him everything.
xxxxxThis was where he had hatched.
xxxxxSlowly, the falcon inched forward, wings trembling. Would his parents be here? Would they care that he came?
xxxxxShivering violently, he tried to take another step forward — but it was too much; he couldn’t. The wind rushed through his wings in great gusts as he leapt aloft.
xxxxxApprehension quivering in his feathers, Veil circled the site. But it was half a decade since he’d hatched; all that remained was a dust-filled hollow and the dying remnant of a fading smell that meant nothing. His heart ached.
xxxxxThe falcon circled again as a jarring fleck of unnatural caught his gaze. It looked like...
xxxxxTalons spread wide for a grip, he settled in the tree beside it. A jacket — and still reeking, even after so many years. Chemicals — death — man — falcon. He recognised them all.
xxxxxIt was Sir’s old coat, the one he’d lost long ago; and he was sure the falcons’ scents were his parents. But the chemicals — no, it couldn’t be true.
xxxxxSick with dread, the falcon leapt aloft. He knew where to look for answers next; he knew that smell: it came from the room Sir used for disciplining Kaia.
xxxxxThe room she had never let him enter.

~ ~ ~

xxxxxGale-force winds screamed round the building Veil had hoped never to see again: the twisted imitation of a home. He blinked, and like a roaring tide the memories of hunger-abandonment-
helplessness-hopelessness-terror for Kaia — flashed behind his lids.
xxxxxWith a screech of defiance — he wasn’t afraid! — Veil dove, and the smoke-stained roof rose up in delight to greet him. What-was-he-doing, Sir-would-catch-him, he’d-be-caught-again, please-no!
xxxxxClaws clattering against the cast-iron roof, he landed. He was alright.
xxxxxWings tucked tight against his back, Veil warily made his way across the ridgepole. Dark memories clung to every feather.
xxxxxFinally, he reached the edge of the roof above a small, lonely window and took a deep breath, shaking his wings out.
xxxxxDid he dare?
xxxxxEyes shut tight, he leapt from the roof.
xxxxxThe wind swept him a foot or two away before he spun to face the building; as usual, the window dangled loose on its hinges.
xxxxxNot giving himself time to think, the falcon tucked his wings and dove...
xxxxx...then with a twist of his wings, shot up the side of the building. Chest-feathers brushed brick-wall, and icy talons clutched his heart.
xxxxxIf he collided — no. He couldn’t.
xxxxxThe world blurred before his eyes, until at last he arrowed through the gap — spread his wings with a snapping jerk — and hung suspended for a moment. He was alive.
xxxxxTrembling with fear and exertion, Veil drifted gently to the ground. Lazy motes of dust slid placidly down a thin stream of sunlight, and he cocked his head curiously; the walls seemed to consist entirely of bookshelves.
xxxxxVeil froze as something flashed from the shadows — falcon eyes.
xxxxxCrying joyously, he sprang into the air. “Mum!?” he almost sobbed.
xxxxxVeil reached the alcove in a matter of seconds, giddy with exhilaration, and reeled back with a strangled gasp.
xxxxxThe falcon was dead.
xxxxxHe crumpled to the ground.
xxxxxDead eyes caught the light from every direction. Falcons — fantails — possums — rats. More taxidermied bodies than he could count. And his own mum with them.
xxxxxVeil’s eyes burned red with rage and grief. Kaia had known. She’d known and done nothing. Across the room stood a male falcon — his own parents were here, and she had done nothing!
xxxxxScreaming with fury, Veil flashed back through the window and hung suspended in the air, beak gleaming wickedly in the dying sunlight. He would burn it to the ground. And Kaia —
xxxxxA lone figure stood apart from the trees, dark hair snapping like a banner in the wind. Veil, trembling with shock, fluttered to the ground.
xxxxxThe girl approached with careful steps, face twisted with too many emotions.
xxxxx“Kaia —” Veil faltered. He had to be strong — had to be strong. “They’re in there, and — you didn’t —
xxxxx“Why?” he sobbed, anger melting and pooling in rivers of pain and confusion.
xxxxx“It’s — not — them — Veil.” Kaia’s voice wavered, but held an undercurrent of undeniable truth. She shook her head, a stray tear hitting the earth. “Not anymore. I buried them years ago.”
xxxxxSuddenly she scooped him into her arms, feathers and all, heart beating strong against his. “I’m so sorry.”
xxxxxHer touch was scarred and familiar. Veil’s chest tightened. But ever so slightly, his heartache eased.

‘Whānau’ is ‘family’ in Māori, and ‘tama’ is ‘boy’. :.)

[TheSongOfTheStars]

OH MY WORD
that is both heartbreaking and disgusting

[Ranger of the North]

OH MY WORD
that is both heartbreaking and disgusting

Thanks! I think... This one honestly made me really sad to write 😭 I was originally gonna have them be killed defending Veil from rats or cats or something; while it's heartbreaking, it's also what happens to many of our falcons (or the babies, at least). But then my mum was like, 'hey, shouldn't Sir have something to do with it?' and it made so much sense that I couldn't not do it 😭
Killing them quick was all I could do 😭

[TheSongOfTheStars]

😭😭😭

[Ranger of the North]

😭😭😭

*pats back sympathetically* *blows nose*

[~Teya~]

;0; Whoa. "Genealogy" was so sad, but at the same time, I loved it. ;w; I forgot about your writing thread tbh, all your writing is so gooodd OwO
*Also, is "“Another!” *smashes mug*" a reference to the first Thor movie!!? XDD

[Ranger of the North]

;0; Whoa. "Genealogy" was so sad, but at the same time, I loved it. ;w; I forgot about your writing thread tbh, all your writing is so gooodd OwO
*Also, is "“Another!” *smashes mug*" a reference to the first Thor movie!!? XDD

Thanks!! Glad you're enjoying them
Oh, it so is XD

[Ranger of the North]

My attempt at a sci-fi/action mashup between 1k and 1.2k words c:

xxxxxAnorth scribbled feverishly in his notebook. So close! For years he had been researching, experimenting, steal — borrowing, and taking notes — all of which was made harder by constant relocating.
xxxxxAnorth’s family followed the sun, but if it had been his choice, he would have followed the earth. While he was a moonchild genius — creator of the Humblescope™ (designed specifically for observing earth), the Camemory™ (for preserving his observations) and the Earthsuit™ (for surviving in oxygen) — his parents were his parents, and refused to be anything else.
xxxxxBut it wasn’t too bad; plodding alongside them gave him time to plan, scrap his bad idea, plan again, scrap that, and try yet again.
xxxxxHe would get to earth one day.
xxxxxAnorth turned his wandering mind back to the notepad, and bit his finger in annoyance. Focus! He had to get this equation exactly right, or his peace-offering would be washed down the black hole. It had struck him a couple years ago, after scrolling through catalogues of everything the funny ‘humans’ knew about outer-space, that they might try to kill him. Like, a lot. Badly or very well done, a death-threat from his favourite aliens would be gutting (hopefully not literally), and he desperately wanted to avoid that.
xxxxx“Four qurtles for each MG of body mass,” he mused aloud, “so if it was originally sixty-three, that’d be 252 — but what if instead of a sixty-three it was, say, 126? I’d end up with half a ‘bird’.” The alien word tasted strange on his tongue. So exotic!
xxxxxThe ‘bird’ in question was a “dodo”. After happening across a chilling historical document titled Jurassic Park, Anorth had reevaluated his life and decided that maybe gifting the earth dinosaurs wasn’t such a hot idea.
xxxxx“504 Q,” he decided at last, snapping the book shut. “It’ll either be an explosion or a success.” Scowling, he sauntered through the room to his makeshift lab, where the shrivelled dodo toenail lay placidly in its bowl. Anorth grimaced.
xxxxxIt stank, and was hard on the eyes, but from it would grow a new civilisation. A race of birds snatched from the bowels of extinction.
xxxxxCarefully, he retrieved his vial of Switcheroo™ (specially designed, of course) from the nearest cupboard and measured out three six-hundredths of a pounce (or 504 qurtles).
xxxxx“Here goes nothing.”
xxxxxBit by bit, he tipped the mixture onto the toenail, carefully making sure the keratin absorbed as much as possible. Then, setting the vial on a nearby benchtop, he waited.
xxxxxThe toenail bulged suddenly, and the lump grew until it reached the size of a tiny chicken — then a normal chicken — and then a very large chicken, until finally it was the exact size of a chicken that would have been about as big as a dodo. Anorth’s jaw dropped to his chin.
xxxxxThe bird wobbled unsteadily, examining her surroundings. Her feathers were an underwhelming grey, but Anorth was sure the humans would love her for who she was inside. The bird met his eyes and he grinned, resisting the urge to wave. Too overwhelming.
xxxxxWith the enchanting ring of nails down chalkboard, the dodo ripped free of its toenail parent and clumped forward, gawking stupidly at her surroundings. Anorth trailed behind like a puppy, struck dumb with his accomplishment. He understood now why humans loved the creatures — why, they didn’t even need oxygen!
xxxxxHeart pounding with excitement, Anorth gripped the vial of Switcheroo and sprinkled a second dose down her back.
xxxxxWith a horrendous, ear-splitting screech, the dodo hurdled away. Anorth yelped as a talon slashed past his head. The bird stomped through the tent with the rage of a mini elephant, knocking bowls from benches and potions from shelves; he could only watch, until it moved toward his cupboard of acids.
xxxxx“No!” He was too small, he’d need momentum. Anorth lunged forward, heart in his throat, and skidded across a table to tackle the creature. Arms wrapped around its neck, he dragged her with him as he fell, and with a tearing rip a second bird fluttered free of its clone.
xxxxxAnorth’s knees crunched uncomfortably as he landed, panting, heart beating a war-dance in his chest.
xxxxxSqueaking indignantly, the original dodo lumbered to its feet and tottered away to converge with its new companion.
xxxxxTwo!
xxxxxBreath sharp in his throat, muscle and bone aching bizarrely, Anorth stumbled to his feet. He’d thought humans were weak — they couldn’t walk for the entirety of even one of their short little days — but they did this for fun. Maybe he’d underestimated them.
xxxxxOut of habit, he absent-mindedly uncorked the Switcheroo and splashed two equal portions down the birds’ feathers.
xxxxxOops.
xxxxxAnorth only had time to shriek as the second maddened dodo charged. Luckily, the creature’s momentum cause it to overshoot, and it collided full-speed with the bench before it had done much more than stomp on him. Unluckily, the vial of Switcheroo toppled to the ground and shattered.
xxxxx“No!” Anorth wailed. His half-day’s work! Destroyed!
xxxxxShrieking, the first dodo staggered toward his acid-cupboard again, and Anorth shakily forced himself to his feet. These stupid birds. His heart beat frantically, urging him on, and he sprang forward to intercept the dodo.
xxxxx“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!” he roared, hefting the nearest poker. Humans wouldn’t know the difference between a concussed dodo and a healthy one, but they’d notice if he gave them puddles of gunk.
xxxxxCrying with terror, the bird stumbled forward, and Anorth danced squeamishly away. He couldn’t hit it.
xxxxxA squeal of rage pierced the ear, and he spun just in time to see the second bird charging his pit of moonfire. It would be roasted within two seconds of contact, and he had no more Switcheroo.
xxxxx“No-no-no-no-no!” Abandoning the first bird, he tore across the tent and dove beneath a table — skidded across the floor, and knocked the bird aside. With shredding sound, one dodo became two.
xxxxxAnorth, shuddering, felt liquid soak his skin. Switcheroo.
xxxxx“DAMN IT!” he screamed, and doubled-over in sudden agony. His ankle bulged. “No-no-no-no-no.”
xxxxxA crash reverberated through the building, and Anorth’s heart skipped a beat. His precious collection of earthen artifacts lay pulverised beneath the toes of a dodo.
xxxxx“No...” Tears burned his eyes. A clone burnt his leg.
xxxxxEnough was enough.
xxxxxPainfully, he forced himself upright against the tabletop. A lightning-strike of agony flashed down his thigh and he screamed, twisting against the table. The tumour had grown.
xxxxxThe weight of a young elephant dragging from his leg — sun’s blood he was heavy — Anorth hauled himself through the building.
xxxxxHis collection of fossils collapsed in a suffocating cloud of dust.
xxxxxSwallowing a sob, the moonchild at last reached his Automatic Weapon™ and drew it. The dodo he’d knocked into the Switcheroo slipped in once again, and lumps erupted almost instantly along its body.
xxxxxAnorth drew a breath.
xxxxxAnd fired.
xxxxxThe bird dropped.
xxxxxAgony streaked up his spine — nails on chalkboard, a weight disappearing.
xxxxxAnd ten efficient shots finished the rest of the birds.
xxxxxAnorth slumped over the table, utterly exhausted. He’d have to start again. Next time, however, he would contain the dodoes and make sure the toenail was sedated. He couldn’t stand the thought of putting anything through that sort of pain. And his collections would be moved to different rooms.
xxxxx“Well, that was an adventure.”
xxxxxAnorth glanced up in surprise, meeting the eyes of... himself. An exact copy of himself, eyebrow raised in his special way.
xxxxxGroaning, he collapsed across the table. Next time would be better — he’d make sure of it.
xxxxxTwo heads are better than one.

[TheSongOfTheStars]

Well.... that was....unprecedented