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[Ranger of the North]

^-^ okay. Well tomorrow's the last day!

[Sciencin']

Me? Finishing things last-minute only a few words below the word count? Yeah, more likely than you think
This is basically a backstory blurb thing that's sorta related to my current book thing except it's just more a worldbuilding thing I guess? If you don't mind me giving a bit of background so it makes sense (I'm honestly not sure how much you can gather from the story itself, there's hints about all this stuff but '':> i dunno how much reading between the lines you wanna do) it's set a few hundred years in the future and sorta centered around a human faction that lives entirely in and is run by VR in a simulated world, and since they're basically computer programs time runs significantly faster there, and there's basically an entirely separate division of law enforcement on Earth designed specifically to protect them, because they're legally considered equal to other humans and have- to some extent- the same rights, but they can't really protect themselves from the sort of threats they have because, themselves being programs, they're the most susceptible to it I guess?? 'Vyar' is like, a glorified term for the simulation as a whole- most people at this point don't remember that it came from 'VR'. It's got to do with the prompt in principle if not all that explicitly, I promise *screeches*
also I switched tenses in the middle of it because I couldn't decide which one I like better so I just went with both. Who's gonna stop me? The police?

Paschalis Talitha was given flowers, and that's all anyone else knew.
Talitha didn’t have a family to speak of. He had few connections. People knew of him, but nobody knew him, not really. He had customers, certainly, but even they could rarely give a proper account of his avatar, let alone personal details. Even after he disappeared, nobody was suspicious for hours- objective hours, too, not Vyar-perceived ones, an awfully long time for something of the sort. The stelisto had chosen their target well, I had to admit.
Nobody would’ve questioned him about that flourishing bouquet he carried; he was a gardener, after all. Nobody noticed the way they didn’t move quite right in the wind, or the almost-but-not-quite way the light bounced off their petals. Even if they had, they would’ve dismissed the flowers as just some strange experiment of Talitha’s, some attempt to ground his work in the deeper levels of the Nexus. The flowers were not by any measure the strangest feature of this stratum. Nor had his absent-mindedness been a cause for concern; like many of his kind, he was admirably inventive and intelligent, but could never have been mistaken for stable.
The flowers themselves were beautiful. They sat in a vase on Gaspar’s featureless desk now, encased in several layers of safety netting that shimmered like the thin rainbow glaze of oil on a puddle. They were lillies and passion-flowers, rendered in sharp crystalline detail in shades of amaranth and fiery orange, with edges so fine and blade-like he felt certain he would cut himself on them if he were to be foolish enough to touch them.
The only source of illumination in the barren study was a window directly behind the man, whose light barely reached into the far corners of the room. It was enough to make the flowers glimmer eerily. Upon closer inspection, they were captivating: delicate filigree patterns covered their petals, and it seemed that every time he looked a little closer, another layer of complexity revealed itself, a vague glistening fractal superimposed over every bloom. The whole arrangement looked fragile up close, like it was made of sugar.
Elegantly beautiful, for a weapon.
He closed his eyes momentarily and sent the summons to Efe Kipling. A fraction of a second later, he accepted her request for entry.
In the center of the empty space, a small white ball appeared, hanging perfectly still in the air before its surface began to ripple and expand. He watched, mesmerized, as the tiny white pebble became a writhing lustrous mass, simultaneously so organic and so unnatural. Watching her materialize always gave him the chills, even though the process never took more than a few seconds.
Several moments later, the mass had coalesced into a female figure, dressed in a toga with two pairs of smooth feathered wings sprouting from her shoulders. Blue lines of ink snaked across her body, azure vines and flowers rendering her features in impossible detail. Efe Kipling stood before him, a smiling angel of liquid porcelain.
“Dante Gaspar. What a pleasure! It’s been ages.”
Out of politeness, he stood. “Efe- Ma’am.”
“I see you’ve decided against redecorating,” she remarked as she gave the dim room a cursory glance. “Really, Dante- it’s so bland.” It always made him uncomfortable when she used his first name.
“I don’t spend a lot of time in here,” he said with a shrug. “And when I do, it’s because I don’t want distractions. Here; take a look at this. This was the vector.” He sat down again, gesturing to the flowers.
She floated closer, wings spread out so she took up a significant portion of the room, and brushed one white finger against the safety netting. He had to stop himself from warning her not to touch it- she knew what she was doing.
“Remarkable craftsmanship,” she commented.
Gaspar frowned. The statement was callous, but not inaccurate.
“So- shall we take a look?”
With a nod from Gaspar, the safety netting dissipated, leaving only air between himself and the beautiful, deadly things in the vase.
“They should be harmless. The most probable case is that the virus was fine-tuned to his genes: they must’ve seen some gap in his security, perhaps due to one of the untested mutations the system introduced,” Gaspar explained. “He wasn’t in a very good spot in the first place, anyway. I’ve got evidence to say he was a relatively troubled person. They might’ve even sent in a weaker preliminary virus, to eat away at his defenses before this assault, though I might not be able to prove it- he couldn’t afford to have himself backed up, and until I find him I have no way to tell how bad the damage is. It wouldn’t have taken much to infect him.” Gaspar cast a sidelong glance at the flowers. “But I would still be careful. They can’t infect you, but they might be able to do some damage.”
Efe laughed. “You just worry about yourself, Dante. You do your thing, and let me do mine. It can’t do anything to me- even if it did, I updated my backup about a centisecond ago.”
Gaspar wondered if she meant a hundredth of a second perceived in Vyar, or a real, solid, immutable hundredth of a second in the real world. The accelerated time was already making his head hurt a little bit. He’d have a hell of a migraine by the time he was done here. Normally, he would’ve given himself a few minutes of respite from Vyar to clear his head- but every objective hour that passed in the physical world cost him nearly four days of perceived time in Vyar, and right now, time was of the essence. He just had to hope the machinery would keep his brain from frying. Unlike the Denizens, his meager biological brain had never been designed to process information this quickly. The implants helped, of course, but nevertheless he still had to take a few moments here and there to collect his thoughts, and he never seemed to comprehend Efe’s words as quickly as she did his.
To him, the Vyar Denizens were like butterflies, flitting from place to place in microseconds, juggling multiple conversations with ease, treating their physical form like a change of clothes rather than like their own body. They were united by two things: a remarkable intelligence, and a remarkable, perverse disinterest in the world outside their simulated pocket-universe. In this sense, they fascinated him- how could they know their world was virtual, and be perfectly content with it?
And yet here they were, a colony of half a billion such souls. And here he was, a flesh-and-blood man, the very being they considered inferior, protecting them from their own system. Ironic, when he thought about it that way.
Efe’s fingers brushed against the petals of one of the flowers. He watched it dissolve into crystalline dust under her touch, a tiny portion of the flower becoming a glittering cloud suspended motionless in the air before her. She ran her smooth porcelain fingers through it, then held her fingers up to the light, inspecting the thin layer of residue. It hissed quietly as it reacted with her skin, until all that was left was a thin sooty layer on the otherwise pristine white surface.
“You were right about one thing, at least. The virus was specifically made to target Talitha. It doesn't like me much, naturally.” Efe smiled, folded her four wings, and tucked her legs up towards her chest. “It may be a tough nut to crack. Whoever created this strain certainly knew what they were doing. Give me, oh…” She cocked her head curiously at the bouquet. “Twenty minutes. That ought to do the trick.”
Gaspar blinked. “That long?”
“I cannot work miracles, Dante,” she chided as she swept the flowers out of the vase with a flourish and let out a small sound of surprise. “They’re cold- you know that? They’re cold to the touch. Beautiful craftsmanship. Stunning.” She took a deep breath, or at least pretended to do so. It looked odd: he saw her open her mouth- an unnerving black hole cloaked in shadow, confirming her avatar was the same stark white porcelain all the way through- and heard the inhale, and yet the rest of her body stayed perfectly still. It made him picture a ceramic vacuum cleaner. It wouldn’t have taken much effort on her part to complete the illusion, but the Vyar Denizens always seemed reluctant to adopt fully realistic forms, as if being a creature of flesh and blood was somehow disgraceful, so instead, they had decided to be unnerving.
Efe glanced up from the flowers, as if surprised he was still sitting by the desk. “Now, Dante, while I’m busy, be a good man- run along and see if you can trace him.” There was an impatient edge to her voice that Gaspar tried to ignore. He also tried to ignore the slight disdain in the way she’d said ‘man’: here the word ‘man’ implied someone from the outside world, and not once had he heard a Denizen use the word without some measure of contempt.
“I’m on it. Adieu.”

⧖

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, focused momentarily on the real, air-conditioned air filling my body’s lungs back on Earth: it smelled of rain.
Efe would’ve just seen me wink out of existence without fanfare. I had never been a huge fan of their pompous demanifestation displays- the way Efe always seemed to morph and fold into a point of nothingness every time she left was on the tamer end of the spectrum. Green plants and the offputting artificial scent of Vyar atmosphere greeted me in Königsmann Forum as I winked back into view. It had been the favored Forum of Talitha’s, and as I looked around, it wasn’t too difficult to judge why.
The place was a wild jungle of wrought-iron, a three-dimensional complexity that twisted and curled in on itself as it rose higher into some indeterminate place in the sky, and overtop that iron lattice grew a second, horticultural jungle, a tangle of vines and creeping flowers that wrapped around every available inch of solid material with the exception of the glass floors. As I glanced down, I saw nothing but more layers of the jungle, though sunlight seemed to have no difficulties penetrating to the lower depths; off to one side, an edge of the structure was visible, and through the holes I caught glimpses of blue sky. I would’ve bet money on this being an isolated structure. If I were to look down through one of those gaps, all I would see is blue sky in every direction.
Around me, avatars of Denizens milled about in groups of anywhere between two and two hundred. Each avatar was stranger than the last: most were humanoid to some extent, though I saw a few that looked more like animals and even a handful that didn’t even look alive. Nevertheless, they gave me a wide berth: there was nothing official that revealed my identity, but with my baseline projection avatar- a perfect copy of my own body- I would’ve been a social outcast here. They never ceased to amaze me.
The Denizens didn’t like me much- and I didn’t like them, either. In some ways, I could see why they considered themselves the epitome of humanity; but the entire setup was too quixotic, too delicate. The real world had its limits, but at least it was robust and reliable and it couldn’t change with a single thought: at least you could count on the ground beneath your feet, and know it was real. Not that they could ever know.
I had an advantage over all of them: they needed me, and I didn’t need them. No matter how they chose to look at it, they were trapped in the Vyar for the rest of their lives. I was a messenger, able to jump between worlds at will- and that was something Efe would never be able to say for herself. No matter how fast and smart that ceramic angel got, she was still just a delicate little fragment of code that had been tricked into consciousness in a universe of illusions.
I glanced away quickly: time to get to business. Efe would be waiting.
With a sigh, I placed my hand on the nearest column. It was smoother, warmer than real iron, as if someone had their hand on it before me and left only a moment ago. Pushing the thought to the back of my head, I began to whistle a quiet tune as I peeled back the Forum’s records.
It didn’t like me. It fought back. Layers of security I’d already bypassed twisted around and nipped at me again. It was like peeling an onion, only the layers were made of rubber and had minds of their own. Never mind my security clearance; the place would’ve put up a fight if Alpha themself was trying to dig into their archives. If there was one thing these people valued, it was information. In a way, it made total sense: information was the essence of their being. On some level they recognized they were not so fundamentally different from the stupid Forum archives.
Nevertheless, the Forum knew it was fighting a losing battle. I dug into it and, with a little forceful coercing and a quick argument with a particularly uncongenial security program, grabbed hold of Talitha’s signature. It took me a few long seconds to comb through the records and trace it, and I had to put on a greater show of authority than I was used to, but finally I had a data trail.
The level of security clearance and force it had taken worried me. They’d hidden their trail well- not well enough to do much more than inconvenience me, of course, but enough to cause concern. Whoever had been responsible for the virus knew what they were doing, and that did not bode well for Paschalis Talitha.
I disappeared from the Forum.

When I entered the locus- a small clearing in an evergreen forest, dimly lit by a vague purple sky- I saw Talitha as a human-shaped black hole cut from my vision. There was no doubt on my part now: there was no saving him.
The thing which had once been Paschalis noticed my presence a few nanoseconds too late. I watched the shape freeze for a moment as it searched for an escape, but I had taken no chances: for what had once been Talitha, escape would be impossible now.
“Under the authority of the Paragon Imperial Council, you are under arrest for the unlawful murder of Paschalis Talitha.”
“What are you going to do? Die about it?” A hollow, sarcastic androgynous voice. It took an unconcerned step towards the trees, then broke into a run.
I didn’t follow.
Three short minutes later, the human-shaped void popped out of the other side of the clearing. It slowed to a stop, shifting its weight casually. “Very interesting. I’ve heard of you Enforcers pulling stunts like that, changing the local topology and all, but I’ve never seen it in action.”
“Most don’t live to tell the tale,” I replied, keeping my voice just as casual. It was difficult to suppress my anger.
It laughed. I wanted to punch it. “So I’ve heard.”
“Shut the hell up.” I glared. “Answer me one question before I do what I came here to do. And keep in mind that I can get whatever the hell I want from you with force if I have to.”
It spread its arms. “Ask away then, Dante Gaspar.”
I froze in place. “How the hell do you know my name?”
“Is that your question?”
“You’ll answer as many damn questions as I want you to.”
It shrugged. “Efe Kipling let that one slip. A tiny chink in her armor: she was careless. You can blame her for it, though I doubt anyone except me knows at this point.”
I swore under my breath. I’d deal with that later.
“Why the flowers?”
“They’re pretty, aren’t they?”
“Why did you kill him?”
The shape cocked its head. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. He never did anything to anyone- trust me, I’ve checked. He had nothing of value. He had no use to you. Why did you kill him?”
“You’re right about one thing, Dante: he never did anything. He was an artist, and a mediocre one at that. This world has a surplus of artists. They do nothing. This world needs more networks who can act.” It took me a second to realize that by ‘networks’, it meant ‘people’. “I want my say in things here, Gaspar. Influence. There’s only so much a single copy of a person can do. Little Paschalis was taking up space. I had every right to replace him. Space to expand is so hard to come by nowadays.”
“I want to know who you are, where your original is, and how many of you there are.”
“Oh, please. I know what you believe. Don’t think you fool anyone. It’s all just numbers to you. Paschalis wasn’t real to you, and neither am I. You’re doing a job, that’s all. Come to think of it, why don’t I make your life a little bit easier?”
Before I could reply, in the timespan of a nanosecond the shape crumpled and disintegrated before my eyes, taking all the information it owned with it.
I stared numbly at the place where the last traces of Paschalis Talitha had stood only a moment before.
Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let it get to you.
I knew it was only a matter of time until it did, or until I got numb to it all.
I wasn’t sure which was the better alternative.

[sparrow;]

I wrote a short story, but I don't think I'm going to share it. Thanks for the good prompt, though!

[ᴇᴜᴛᴏɴʏ]

HECK YAS! I have been looking for this post for forever! I can finally put my writing on the internet to get judged and see the results from other point of views. Getting to work right away!

[Ranger of the North]

I wrote a short story, but I don't think I'm going to share it. Thanks for the good prompt, though!

No worries, fair enough! cx

HECK YAS! I have been looking for this post for forever! I can finally put my writing on the internet to get judged and see the results from other point of views. Getting to work right away!

Woo! Sounds like funn... XD

[ᴇᴜᴛᴏɴʏ]

Whatever you're reading now is just a brief explanation of where I am right now.

My name is Annalice Shae Sarkatsi and what I am about to tell you has ruined me. This happened around a half a year ago,
but is still fresh in my mind. I never thought that signing up for this website would almost take my life.

Half a Year Ago

The half crescent of a moon shimmered down on Harper's bay yellow sand; turning it a pale white. The thundery cracking sound of brightly coloured fireworks echoed into the cheerful night. I can fondly remember the way the blue and purple sparks were outlined against the blackest of black skies. I remember dancing around a bonfire with all my mates and singing along as hard as I can, against the roaring of the flames.
But, of course, this was before everything went wrong. Very, very wrong.

The story

I groaned and rolled onto my side as I slammed the snooze button on my alarm. I blinked open my eyes and almost screamed when I saw my mother standing and scrolling through my computer. I jumped out of bed quickly and ran over to her. I pressed the off button on it and pushed it shut. She narrowed her eyes at me and said, “What are you not telling me?”. I smiled at her and hurriedly shoved her gently to the door. As soon as she was out I slammed my door and took a breather. I raced over to my computer and opened it up again. A smile stretched across my face as I saw the familiar web title. [b]Get to know someone[b/]. I had been talking to a guy named Cristopher and I kinda enjoyed it. By the name of the title, you could easily guess what it was about. We had been talking for about a month when he finally decided to meet me. Obviously, I said yes and that also explains why I shoved my mother out of my bedroom. I went to the bathroom, showered and got dressed. Fish nets, denim ripped shorts, a khaki crop top and my fashionable nerd glasses looked good together. I tied my hair into two buns, grabbed my purse and walked out the door without breakfast.
“You look lovely” Cristopher grinned and looped his arm in mine as we entered the trendy-vintage tea shop. It smelt like a musty rose and was gorgeous. “Thank you” I smiled back. We went to the back of the shop and sat down. I plucked a menu from the holder and read through it. “Bacon sounds good. Ooh! And an omelette” I said to myself outloud. The waitress came over to us and we ordered basically the same thing. The only difference was he got that yellow sauce stuff and I didn’t. The meals took a while to come, but as soon as they did, my heart jumped for joy. It smelt, looked and was delicious! As we exited the tea shop Christopher turned to me and said, “Well you devoured that quickly”. I elbowed him in the rib and he grunted. I rolled my eyes at him.“I was hungry!” I chuckled while still walking.
I was about to turn a corner when I stopped. I couldn’t hear the clicking of Cristopher’s shoes behind me anymore so, I swivelled around to see if he had stopped to tie his laces or whatever, but he wasn’t there. “Cristopher?This isn’t funny!” I whined, but was greeted with silence. I felt a big hand land heavily on my shoulder so I turned and was greeted with a potato sack. I screamed and squirmed to try to release myself from the mans grip. “Let go of me you big ape!” I shouted at him and shoved a boot onto his foot. I heard him grumble something before I felt myself fall to the ground. A sharp pain shot through my shoulder and I winced. My eyes got heavy so I closed them for a moment, but instantly knew it was a bad idea. I couldn’t open them.Crap.
I awoke to the sound of muffled, masculine voices. I groggily lifted my head to find that my clothes had been taken from me and I was stuck wearing a thin, white sleeveless shirt and some sweatpants. I was so god damned freezing here- wait, where am I? I almost jumped out of my skin when one of the men approached me. He placed an unwanted hand on my thigh and it sent fearful shivers through me. I slapped him in the face and demanded to know what was going on. “Hello Annalice. You are wondering why you are here, are you not?” he asked plainly. A looked at him with pure rage on my face and lifted my hand again. He got the picture and spat out whatever he needed to say. “You belong to me now. No one can find you, no one can hear your cries. You are to do as I say, when I say and there should be no problem”, the man replied showing a set of disgusting teeth. He put a hand on my face; as if that was going to cheer me up somehow.“Don’t you dare touch me. What do you want with me anyway?” I shouted at him, slapping his touchy hands away. His eyes glimmered.“You already know what I want, Annalice” he replied oblivious to my slaps.

Painful weeks went by and despite my cries for help, no one came to help me. I was stuck here, wherever it was, without comfort or blankets. I looked up and fury crept through me as I saw who was there. It was Cristopher. I stood up walked over to the bar and glowered at him. I reached a hand through the bar and punched him in the jaw. He winced and clumsily stumbled away from the bars. I had tears in my eyes. My mouth was open, but I didn’t say a word and neither did he. After a few minutes he finally spoke. “I am sorry”. Cristopher looked up at me for a second, but then looked at the floor again. His split-second glance was filled to the brim with guilt.“Those are all the words you can utter? You are a coward, Cristopher. I thought I knew you” I growled. Tears were spilling down my cheeks and my heart ached. I watched as he lifted his head to gaze at me before he turned and walked off down the hall. I shouted after him, but was greeted once again by silence.

I was slowly considering suicide when I heard police sirens roar down the street. My heart raced and I filled with hope. The sirens stopped directly in front of wherever and I screamed as hard as I could. “Please help me! Please!” I cried. All I could hear were shouts of men and gun shots going off. I saw a police woman running down the hall toward me. I leaped to my feet and ran to the bar; almost tripping. She pounded at the bars, but nothing happened. “I will get you out I promise. You will be okay” she said reassuringly to me. She took the last ounce of her energy to kick at the door which did it. I ran out and hugged her. “Thank you….How did you find me?” I whispered hoarsely. She smiled at me and walked me out the door. I saw the disgusting men being shoved into cars. Cristopher stood off to the side watching, phone in hand and looking at me. I mouthed the words thank you before I to, was put in car; gentler then the men. As I sat in the warm car with a blanket wrapped around me, I couldn’t help, but think of how lucky I was right now. I stared outside at the commotion. The red and blue lights on top of the cars set a soft glow around the area. I hugged my knees and began to sob.

Now

I stood at my bedroom window. I allowed a light breeze to stir in my room and in my face. I heard a beep from my computer which hadn’t gone off for days, due to lack of messages. I turned and stared at it. Shivers went through me and my heart started to pound. I slowly walked over and sat down I my chair. I flicked on the screen and stared in shock at the icon bubble. I clicked it open and read through.Cristopher? I shut down my computer, unplugged it and walked to my window. I was second storey which came In handy. I peered over the edge and looked at the grass below. Grinning I lifted the computer above my head and threw it. I threw it as hard as I could and watched as it feel further down. I heard it crash on the grass and I raced downstairs. It was gone. I shook and picked up little bots of it. “Finally” I breathed.


(Sorry it is a bit sloppy because I was doing homework at the same time and I was quite tired. I swear I am better then this, I just never really use this specific way to write my stories.I am also most likely to change my story every now and then, as I don't really like it much. I was worried about the word limit.)

[Ranger of the North]

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay. I'm fighting sickness (bye-bye later nights *dramatic sniff*), helping a friend with her writing, leaving time to do my own, and trying to keep up with both real-life things and internet-y stuff XD But I am still picking away at this, and I'm editing my how-to-do-all-the-things strategy! So it will be done. Hopefully someday this week, but who knows XD
✌

[Ranger of the North]

First place:



Second place:



Third place:





First place:



Second place:



Congrats!

Fonts found here

[Ranger of the North]

The internet
(found by Randy)


Ends 18/03/18 NZ time

1st: ten pets/items
2nd: six pets/items
3rd: three pets/items


Interesting pictures and spare pets will always be welcome! c:

[leiawolfe]

BWAHAHA I love this
!!! *plot silently builds up in mind...*