Mey Hem RPG Micropiece Theater


Nonstop Baaka
You find yourself in a cozy little room. A simple wooden chair covered in blankets sits by a stone fireplace, in which a quiet fire crackles. Above the fireplace portraits of the Mayhem cast are hanging. ...Maybe. it's hard to tell because they're so crudely drawn. Shelves flank the fireplace, half filled with books and trinkets thrown in every which way. A small table sits next to the chair, with a cup filled your favorite warm beverage on it.

You can't help but feel like there are eyes and ears upon you, waiting for something... Can you hear that? The chair is calling you. Drawing you in, while whispers echo faintly, asking for a story....

Welcome to the May Hem RPG theater! Here we can showcase one shot short stories, featuring the characters and/of setting of the May Hem RPG. There will be no RPing/interaction within the stories, but feel free to post comments as members of the gallery. It doesn't have to be canon or IC, either, just have fun!


Nonstop Baaka
A man walks on a quiet grey street, yet he doesn't make a sound. His light grey shoes are impeccably clean, his white slacks rub against his toned legs and butt. He wears a white tank top that clings to his pecs and abs, while an open white long-sleeved shirt flows in the wind. A single sparkling ring hangs off a gold chain around his neck. His large hands move up to push thick reddish waves from his face, ultimately a pointless task with the rain.

The rain flows at a light but steady pace, plastering his clothes against his body, hinting at the chai toned skin underneath. Water droplets kiss and tease his face as he stares at me, amber eyes burning their intent as his moist lips part.

He breaks out into a song, his voice clear and sweet, singing of shameful things I can only dream of. His body undulates as he moves to the music, hips gyrating and thrusting at just the right moments. He dances through the rain, with it, still singing, ever getting closer and closer, until finally, he reaches out to me--

And gets torn to shreds.

Harue grumbled at the pieces of paper that now littered the floor. She dusted off the last remaining pieces off her hands and sighed. She plopped down on her tiny apartment bed and shouted into her pillow to muffle the sound.

"Stupidstupidstupid..." she rolled over and closed her eyes. Various parts still ached from old injuries. She suddenly opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling and its tiny bumps and cracks for awhile.

She sat up with another sigh and grabbed a fresh notebook from the mess under her bed. Grabbing the pen she had inadvertently sat on, she started to write again.

I'm sorry this one is so horny XD

For the song, imagine something like this one, but imagery more like 90% of boy band videos. This little scene isn't as pointless as it seems. :3
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Nonstop Baaka
Haru looked around the room he was confined to. He was a bit surprised that Omega Knight had gone to such lengths. No phone or method to communicate with the outside. Although Haru had done a cursory look around and didn't see any hidden microphones or cameras, he wasn't about to completely dismiss the possibility. He couldn't help but smile to himself. Most people in his position might panic, especially when Mrs. Smith was expecting an update. Journalists do have deadlines, after all.

Haru was prepared.

No matter how paranoid Omega was, Haru doubted that the bathroom would be bugged. He went inside to get clean-and to write. The water was turned on high to drown out the sounds of writing. Any discarded pages wouldn't be carelessly tossed in the trash, oh no-they would be torn into pieces and flushed down the toilet. No one could find out his secret, after all.
Harue loosened her chest binder with a great sigh of relief. Posing as a man had allowed her greater freedom of movement, and a better sense of anonymity, at least among anyone who might be aware of her infamous luck. She had to admit though, it was also a lot of fun being someone else for awhile, and trying to get into Omega's inner circle. But, there was work to be done. She wrote up a few pages of text that at first glance seemed nonsensical, but was really a secret code she had developed with Judeen. They had also concocted a way to deliver notes to each other in a way that wouldn't arouse much suspicion...

Now all she had to do was to convince a neighbor to let her borrow a phone.

Moments later, Haru's pizzas arrived. He handed the delivery person a few bills-with some coded notes folded inside them.
So remember when Haru got locked in the apartment? I don't think anyone suspected anything at the time. Obviously, I can't reference the original post anymore, but here's what really happened. Zam knew about it the whole time.


Pittied fools.
On a gloomy, rainy afternoon, Roock and Beanuu sat on one of Kage's couches in suspense. Friday February had found that an animated action show had been saved to her records long ago and now they were watching the projection on the den's wall. All afternoon they watched the sight of a climactic battle where dozens of mystical martial artists now lay strewn about a desolate desert. Only two still stood. One was a humble but improbably musclebound hero. The other was a cocky and even more muscular tyrant. The tyrant began to gloat, "Pathetic. As you see, an army of you and your friends could never hope to defeat me. You're like mere flies before my gaze. But...just so you'll know before I swat you, I'll let you know it was I who ate your last sandwich...

...and it was delicious."

The hero's face curled up in an angry and defiant grimace, "I'll never forgive you!!! GRWWWAAAAAAAAARR!" Flexing his muscles, his body began to glow with a literal righteous fury. "GRRRUUUUURRRRRRRRRR!" The tyrant replied with a muscle flex of his own as his eye glowed and viscious shade of red. As they prepared for battle, the narrator proclaimed,

"After a long saga, it finally comes down to this titanic tussle of titans! Who will win? Who will lose?!? What shall happen to the world if the fight gets out of control!?! TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR THE COMPLETELY UNMISSABLE FINAL EPISODE THAT WILL ANSWER ALL OF THESE QUESTIONS AND MO..."

Suddenly, the screen went blank. Friday blinked, then realized, "Oh no, the file is corrupted! I guess we'll never know what happens..." "NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Roock and Beanuu mournfully shouted. "Is there anything you can do, Friday?" Beanuu asked. "I'll try but it might be lost forever. But, people find lost relics all the time. Maybe someone will find a minidisc." Roock lept up from his seat. "Maybe we'll find it. Come on, Beanuu!" Beanuu shrugged as the two rushed out in the rain, in search of misadventure.

The episode itself was the last lingering episode I came up with for any sort of movie night the players might be involved in.
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Pittied fools.
"Hey lady, you got a light?"

The gravely voice of Arsenic Grey firmly declined as she calmly walked down the street on a cloudy morning. Suddenly, "AHA!" "Hrk." Muscular arms picked her up in a big bear hug but she didn't struggle. Once she was set down, she said, "You've been working out. And you're actually wearing a shirt." She looked at the mountain of a man, Henry Bunyan, as he boisterously proclaimed, "Well, you know the old saying, checkers are the new plaid?" " But anyway, why are you in the OPD?" Henry pointed at the nearby park. "Why don't we sit down and chat?"

The two found a quiet, semi secluded table and sat down. Henry pulled out a can labeled 'SOUP' and handed it to Nicky. She calmly peeled off the label and held the metal can in her hand as she produced small flames from her fingers. "How's Professor Oakley doing?" Henry asked. "She's still trying to get another expedition going. Keeps getting bogged down in red tape about costs and the like. Especially since she wants to go out in the Bay. You?" Henry pulled out small wooden bowls and they poured a portion for each of them. "It's been quiet. Nice and peaceful in Besseltrade. Ginny's really been improving at her art. You should come see.

By the way, Happy Birthday."

Nicky paused with a mouthful of soup. She swallowed and then asked, "How did you know?" "Bah, how not? Doc Willard won't tell me and Abby can't remember her's. Makes remembering easier if there's fewer numbers. Though I wonder Friday and her friends' birthday are, hmm. Anyway, after hearing about how you usually spend your birthday, I figured the gift you needed most...was a friend."

After a pause in silence, the uncommon sight of a small smile crept across her face, "Thanks."

Experimenting a bit of "show, don't tell" and also a different tone than normal. Don't worry, most after this will be more madcap.
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Pittied fools.
Into the general store in Besseltrade stepped a man wearing an expensive, bright red suit followed by a tall, fit woman wearing black. This was Bavonian Berry and one of his two bodyguards, Malady. As his cane tapped the floorboards with each step, he quietly inquired in annoyance, "I don't even know why we need to be here. There's nothing of interest here." Malady scoffed, "It was your idea to come along. Just picking up supplies. Besides shops like this tend to have local things of interest. Those pictures over there look nice." Bavonian sauntered over and looked them over. The pictures showed scenes from around town such as the inn across the street or a woman standing on a table. "I guess the technique is sound."

"Thanks!" Bavonian was startled by a younger voice behind him. He turned to see a young teenage girl with an off center pigtail and orange overalls. The young Ginny Summers continued with little pause, "Discovered a talent for drawing when my parents said I needed to do something when not at work and it was something I could do and it was really cool so that was what I did since it isn't carving like Jadetite since she uses knives and I thought about maybe collecting knives but mom said 'NO' in her mom voice so that didn't happen but that seemed kinda unfair since it's not hard to be safer with knives than Jadetite but here we are you were looking at the pictures so did you want to buy one?" Bavonian was overwhelmed but managed to compose himself. Replying in calm, if subtly condescending tone, he said, "Sure. So what do they cost, one Laic?" Ginny arched an eyebrow, "That's...not the price listed." "What could you possibly do with more than one Laic?" "All sorts of stuff I could save up for an emergency or order a special meal because it's good to have extra a lot of people have bought pictures like Mrs. Jessothy and even one woman who was a pr...professional." Ginny immediately clammed up.

An exasperated Bavonian crossed his arms and asked, "What makes you think that woman is a professional and I'm not?" "I least she could afford more than one Laic." While Bavonian didn't hear Malady, since she aggressively muffled her snicker, he did notice it had gotten quiet and attention had drawn to him. He stammered, "Of course I can afford it. In fact, I'll take two!" He grabbed two pictures, took them to the counter, then stumbled out after paying for them. Ginny tilted her head as he swiftly exited, "He didn't even say what his profession was."


Nonstop Baaka
"....How could the knife accidentally cut you right across the eye?" The young man frowned, even while wrapping bandages across a bloody face. "If you're scared about testifying against those thugs..."

"I'm not scared. This stuff happens to me all the time. I was about overdue for some bad luck, anyway." The young woman shrugged casually.

His mouth hung open a bit, unsure what to say for a few moments.
"...Well, it can't ALL be bad. What are the odds than someone with EMT training just happened to be nearby? Besides, it let me meet a lovely lady such as yourself." An impish smile crossed his face as he winked at her.

".......Do guys actually use lines like that?" She was genuinely surprised. "Are you just trying to keep me calm until the ambulance and cops come? I know the shock's going to wear off soon. This'll probably start hurting like heck soon."

Once again, he was speechless for a bit. She didn't even seem to care much about her own situation. Soon enough, the smile returned to his face.
"Yeah, you're right. You've been to the hospital before, haven't you?"

"More times than I can count. I should see if they have some sort of rewards program. Go 10 times, get 1 visit free." His snort of amusement relaxed her more than his words had.

"Still, I'm surprised my rugged good looks haven't charmed you yet. Most ladies would be all over me by now."

It was her turn to stare at him blankly.
"Sorry, can't quite see you well right now, what with all the blood in my eyes."

His laughter rang across the worn down basketball court they were sitting on.
"You really have a way with words. You're not normally the type I go for, but tell you what. I'll come visit your hospital room after you're patched up. Then you can see what a stud I am, and..." He gently held her hand. "Maybe we can get some coffee?"

She laughed weakly, her eye starting to throb more. The sound of sirens were getting closer. It was amazing what her head could conjure up in her state of shock. Still, she felt obligated to reply to her hallucination even as her consciousness faded.
"I promise you, you'll regret it."


Nonstop Baaka


Nonstop Baaka
"You really like this stuff?" He closed the well-worn book with a smirk. "It's basically written porn."

Harue snorted at him and dangled a magazine, from which a scandalous centerfold unfolded.
"And you 'read' these for the articles. Don't you have enough women in real life all over you?"

He walked over and lifted the magazine from her hands, setting it aside.
"Baby girl, you're all the woman I need." His voice dropped as he pulled her in by her waist.

"Uh huh. Don't feed me that donkey poo. You'd never see someone like me in one of things." Despite her tone, she blushed a bit at his touch. "You could fit in a romance novel, though."

"But I'm not rich, ambitious, or smart." This didn't seem to dampen his smirk.

"Eh, flaws are more interesting. Besides- after awh-ile, the books kinda bleeeend toge- ...HEY. Stop distracting me." Harue frowned as his hands started to wander. He grinned and didn't say anything, since now his lips were otherwise occupied. "Not fair. You're just trying to shut me up again... "

"Actually, you're kinda loud when-" His mumbled words were interrupted by a slap against his arm. It only made him chuckle more.


Nonstop Baaka
"I'm so sorry!" Harue fretted as she changed out the bag of ice again.

"Quit apologizing, it was an accident." His laughter was weaker than normal. His usual grin was interrupted by a grunt of discomfort as he lied in their bed. "We'll look back at this one day and laugh."

"I told you moving in together was a bad idea. You're already putting yourself at risk at work..." Her eyes brimmed with tears again. "My luck is only supposed to affect me, but now-"

He rolled his eyes at her. "Calm down, would you? It'll heal in time, we just got caught up in the moment, is all. The tough part's gonna be you having to keep your hands off me while I recover." His attempt at levity was lost on her. "Just wait until I tell the guys that I broke my-" Seeing her downcast face, he let out a sigh. "Look, why don't you get something to eat? I'll be ok."

She automatically got up and walked towards the kitchen, rubbed at her already red eyes and muttered to herself.

"I won't be..."


Nonstop Baaka
"There's nothing between us. She just makes lunch for the guys at work sometimes." He let out a weary sigh.

"Even if that's true, I've seen the way she looks at you." Harue's response was cold. "She finds any excuse to touch you."

"Well, I mean, can you blame her?" He flexed his arm, the light shining off his bicep. "I can't help it if the ladies like me." His quick laugh didn't seem to ease her expression like it normally would.

"You just can't stop yourself from flirting, can you? Just like I can't stop myself from getting jealous."
Harue stubbed her toe on her way over to sit on the kitchen stool, though it went largely unoticed.
"Look, if you want arm candy or an open relationship, I'm not that kind of person."

"...I know." The kitchen stool wobbled, but he stopped it in time and smiled down at her. "I still like you, though."

She leaned back against his chest and looked up at him. "You really shouldn't."

She wondered if he knew what his buddies at the station whispered about them when they thought she couldn't hear.

That he's dating a plain girl so desperate for his attention that she injures herself on purpose. That he stays with her out of pity, or because he gets to play the hero all the time. That she isn't good for anything except for EMT practice.

They were probably right. To what degree, though, she wasn't exactly sure.


Nonstop Baaka
"Pants?" He looked at Harue's basic black slacks and cheap floral shirt, the disappointment clear on his face.

"Remember what happened last time? I've had enough wardrobe malfunctions with dresses and heels, thanks. Plus, jewelry just gets stuck on things." She brushed her hair, parting it carefully to cover her right eye and scar.

"But, well, it's the annual charity ball, and..." He hesitated.

She stared at him for a moment, then went back into the bedroom and shut the door. After a few moments, she came back out.

His jaw dropped.

She was wearing the exact same outfit, only with one of his business suit jackets on top. The sleeves hung well past her hands.
"There. This should be formal enough." She gave a satisfied smirk at the look on his face. "What? It's not like I have to wear a hot outfit and makeup like the other women."

"Haru, that isn't-" He groaned and rubbed his temples with one hand.

"I'll just trip over my own feet anyway. Why don't you go with Cindimae? She doesn't burn her chili so bad it fuses with the pot, right?"

For once, he didn't smile, deflect, or flirt. His brows knotted and he stared at the floor.

Did she go too far this time? Maybe he'd leave her now. It'd be better if he did. The number of scars and scrapes on him were growing. Soon he'd be riddled with them like her. He couldn't keep saving her all the time. After the Ball she'd end things. Now was not a good time. But that was also what she had told herself last month, and the month before, and...

She had to. Before her bad luck affected him again. Before-

The front door slammed. He was gone. Did he even say anything before he left? Did she? She stared at the door, her mind already writing and rewriting a dozen possibilities of what had just happened, what would happen now.

"...Told you you'd regret it." She told the door.


Pittied fools.
In the icy lands of Viknadia, an anxious crowd sat in audience of a grand frozen colosseum. In a viewing box above them, the King of Viknadia stepped forward and proclaimed, "GREETINGS! I see you're all excited for our annual greased narwalrus wrestling competition! While I'll announce the competitors soon, I'm sure you want to see the mighty beast, eh?" The audience cheered in response. "Ha ha, yes! Guards, raise the gate!"

A large metal gate groaned as it slowly rose with the crowd waiting in anticipation. Soon it was at its full height and...nothing. No narwalrus entered the arena. Flabbergasted, the King angrily shouted, "What blasphemy is this?!? How can one have greased narwalrus wrestling with no narwalrus?" Rel’Eah, the towering advisor to the royalty, pondered and then she calmly spoke, "Perhaps if I investigate, I'll find what happened." "That's possible...but what are we to do while we wait?" The Queen of Viknadia stood up and pointed at two guards. "You and you, go fight." The guards shrugged and started brawling in the arena.

Rel’Eah followed a trail of oil through dark and treacherous tunnels until finally coming to a large cave. On the floor was a greased narwalrus that was kept occupied gnawing on a plank of wood. Sitting on a higher ledge was a shirtless, brawny Viknadian man with a large maple leaf belt buckle. His hair flowed with the wind...yet the air was still. Even and conversational, Rel’Eah addressed him with, "I guess this is some sort of scheme for godhood? Guess I should ask you aboot how it works." He scoffed, "So the Princess sent you." "I followed the clues on my own. You aren't very good at hiding, H’tooms." He scoffed but after a lingering silence, he said, "If it weren't for the Princess and her friends, I could have been greater. I'd have stolen life from death. A worthy feat of a new god. Now I attempted to steal joy but it's not as grand. Just...just look at it." The narwalrus absently continued gnawing. Rel'Eah attempted to impart wisdom with, "Godhood may not be all it's cracked up to be. I've lived a good long life, maybe you should seek that out." "Bah, such nonsense. I'll figure something out." H'tooms leaped into pool of water and was gone. Rel'Eah sighed and shook her head. Then she clapped towards the narwalrus. "C'mon you. Let's go home."

Greased Narwalrus Wrestling: Another Mey Hem Thanksgiving was what I was pondering for a possible Thanksgiving campaign but I had little idea for the end and no idea whatsoever for the middle.


Nonstop Baaka
"So, what do you think?" Haru took back the notebook with a smile. "Is it too much, though? Having them fight, then the boyfriend supposedly dies, with a ring box in his pocket."
Mr. Reynaldino Rivera pushed his small round spectacles back into place.
"Well, it certainly is not lacking drama. However, I feel that it is missing some aspects of the type of stories we publish. The main characters should be more appealing." Mr. Rivera folded his hands on the table, his face and tone flat. "My main issue with this outline is that is it unfinished. How do you plan to end it?"

When Haru just returned an empty stare, Mr. Rivera tapped the notebook.
"I assume he is found to be alive and well, and they get married and build a family, yes?"
Tap Tap Tap
"What is there is no Happy Ending?" Haru stared at the notebook. The tapping abruptly stopped. "There is no clear answer, and the reader is left to make their own conclusion."

Mr. Rivera crossed his arms.
"Hmm. That would be... different, but not very satisfying. Is that the ending you really want?"
"Then write the ending you want."

Mr. Rivera stared in silence and confusion.
Haru smiled. "I want ALL the endings, and none of them. I want the story to continue beyond what I could ever imagine, and I want nothing more for it to just end."

At Mr. Rivera's continued silence, Haru coughed and adjusted the tattered pink cloth around his neck.
"But that won't do, will it? We should give the readers what they want."
" The Happy Ending, then."
"The Happiest one there ever was."


Pittied fools.
"Ah yeah, we got the goods," Roock said, rubbing his hands together as he sat on the couch. "Yeah dude. The seller seemed so trustworthy. Got a ton of these discs so some are bound to be good," Beanuu said as they waited for Friday to focus the image for the projection. They soon saw a room where a fairly unassuming man in a suit holding a microphone. "Good evening folks. We're waiting outside the locker room for...look, there he is!" The camera panned over to a hulking man in neon colored briefs and matching boots. The smaller man rushed up and asked, "Sir, do you have a message for your competitor?" The large man gingerly took the microphone and stared straight into the camera with a wild expression...

"Yeah, I got something to say. A lot of people think they can ride the road to greatness on a cheap bus with flat tires and no gas. I'm here to tell them they can't coast to easy street. I'm the roadblock causing the traffic jam they can't detour around because they didn't ask directions until it was too late. Get ready to taste the asphalt as I pave the way to the championship belt. Like a derailed freight train I'm full throttle with no limits but fueled up with pain!"

He looked around until he saw something, grabbed it, and held it in front of the camera "YOU SEE THIS SHOVEL?!? THIS SUNDAY, IN THE RING, I'M GONNA BURY YOU SO DEEP THAT NO CONSTRUCTION CREW IS GONNA BE ABLE TO FILL THE POTHOLE! GET READY CAUSE I'M EN ROUTE TO YOUR DESTRUCTION!" He forcefully shoved the microphone back into the smaller man hands and stomped off. Then the image ended.

"Whoa is it another corrupted file?" Beanuu asked. Friday replied, "No, it seems like that's the only movie on that disc. The rest seems to be spreadsheets." Roock groaned, "Aw man, I wanted to see the match. I hope every movie we watch isn't unfinished."


Nonstop Baaka
Maggie leaned away from the kiss and smiled at him.
"She doesn't have to know. In fact, I have a girlfriend who wouldn't mind joining in..." She winked, her full lips curling playfully.

He gulped. Maggie was just his type-not afraid to show off her rockin' body, makeup and hair done up perfectly, and just looking for a good time. He had no doubt her friend was just as fine.

His exact type... and nothing like Harue. Harue, who liked to cuddle on the couch in pajamas, whose jealous gaze he could feel burning through him if anyone else even looked at him. The one who didn't even shave her legs most of the time and often wore men's clothes. The one who would giggle maniacally when reading or writing something raunchy, who would fuss over his injuries even as she shrugged off her own, who persisted even with all life threw at her.

He sighed, then pushed Maggie away.
"Thanks, but I can't do that to her. She wouldn't do it to me."
Maggie frowned a cute little pout then stuck a pose, giving him a good view down her shirt.
"Oh? What's she got that I don't?"
He recognized the ways she was trying to seduce him, similar to the ways he had seduced so many women before...

He smirked and grabbed Maggie's shoulders. He pulled her in and whispered softly near her ear.
"She doesn't treat me like just a piece of meat."
He stepped back and patted her head a few times as if she were a child, then walked away, humming.

I was working on a different piece but it feels dumb right now, so here's something from Harue's BF's past. He does have a name, which I'll reveal soon.


Nonstop Baaka
Harue stumbled into the bar, holding her black kitten heels, one of them broken, in one hand. Her dark dress was slightly torn on one side of the hem, spaghetti stains on the other side. The bartender gave her an apprehensive look.
"Fell into the food." She said, as if that explained everything.

She went straight to the Carry-OK corner. A couple of patrons were downing their drinks, but no one was on the mic yet. She grabbed the song book and flipped through it in a frenzy. Once she found the one she wanted, she punched the numbers in and grabbed the mic off the small machine.

Once the song was done, she sighed deeply. One of the patrons clapped twice, then passed out on the table. The other had locked himself in the bathroom. She walked back over towards the bartender, who took out his earplugs.
"If you're going to sing the Greatest Song of All Time, you could at least get the lyrics right. And yes, I could still hear you a bit."
Harue merely shrugged and walked back outside.

I imagine this took place after Tien's memorial/funeral, when she had convinced herself he left on purpose. If you want to know what she was singing....

I was a stranger to love
You knew the rules, but not I
A full commitment's what I thought of
I wondered if I had the right guy
Now you really left me reeling
I just don't understand

You said you'd never give me up
Instead you let me down
You ran around and left me
How many times did you make me cry
Never even said goodbye
All you did was lie and hurt me

We knew each other for so long
My heart's been aching but I was too scared to say it Inside we both knew what was going on
You knew the game and you sure played it
Wish you asked me how I was feeling
Now that's an impossibility

You said you'd never give me up
Instead you let me down
You ran around and left me
How many times did you make me cry
Never even said goodbye
All you did was lie and hurt me


Pittied fools.
Slow, ominous music rose as a blonde woman in her twenties wandered through a dilapidated old house. Roock and Beanuu sat on the edge of their seat watching in anxious worry. Suddenly, there was silent rustling and the woman reached for the door.

"Johnny, is that you?"
"That's not Johnny! Don't open the door!" Roock and Beanuu shouted in unison. "Mrow!" A cat scampered out as the woman opened the door. Roock and Beanuu sighed in relief...until a masked man leaped out with a large blade! It's unknown how much of the screaming was from them and how much was from the woman in the movie they were watching. After the grisly attack, the screen faded to black.

"That's not what I'd normally watch," Friday said as the movie ended. "Yeah but if he showed up here, we could take him," Roock said. "Most of the people we know could take him. Though I hope he didn't show up here. Who knows what would happen." Beanuu interjected, "Even if he showed up right here, right now, he'd lose. If he slashed at Friday, he couldn't hurt her. If he kept going, he'd tire out. Being tired is the opposite of winning, right? Then she'd talk to him and make him feel bad for attacking people."

Friday replied, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. But...maybe we shouldn't watch that again." Roock and Beanuu nodded in agreement.


Pittied fools.
Quietly, he walked. A man clad in vibrant greens and browns calmly picked up trash surrounding a park bench. It was a peaceful, moonlit night with nary a sound until, "Arbor Day, is that you?!?"

Out stepped a tall man in a hunter green coat. Though there lines of age on his face, he had jolly expression. Arbor Day ran up and gave him a big hug. "Nick! How've you been? It's been so long since..." A wary pause hung in the air until Nick broke it with, "Holiday Island?" "Yeah." "Hey, it's behind us now. The ones of us who could escape did. I'm trying to find everyone and see how they're doing. Found EB. He's adjusting well enough."

Arbor Day sat on the bench. "I got a job cleaning the parks for the city. It's only supposed to be during the day but I couldn't sleep. Oh...and I go by 'Albert' now. Calling myself Arbor Day tends to get weird stares." "I need to leave soon but not without a gift..."

Nick pulled out a tiny flowerpot with an even smaller seedling. "Found it in what used to be your cell. It wasn't doing well but with you it might get a second chance like the rest of us." "Thanks man. I'll be sure to..."

Looking up, Arbor Day saw Nick was gone. Only the seedling and the subtle jingle of bells marked that he had been there.


Active member
The Patch flashbacks:

"That was close... uh, Easter Bunny, or do you go by another name? You really saved us. Thanks," the older boy said, giving an earnest smile. "Yes, thank you so much!" a bright-eyed young girl added.

"Yeah, sure... whatever... um, EB's fine," the small, purple-furred rabbit-boy said, fidgeting slightly.

"Guess we should give you our names. I'm Loren, and this is my sister Patricia. Heh, I usually call her 'Patch' for short." The girl became visibly distraught over being referred to by his pet name for her. "Ahhh! Don't call me that!" she protested.

The rabbit-boy titled his head slightly, looking confused. "Like a scrap of cloth...?" he mumbled. Hearing this, the older boy laughed. "Hahaha! Or, like, a red rash on your skin!" Unamused, the girl pouted and gave an annoyed "Hmph!" Neither of them noticed the slight bittersweet note in the rabbit-boy's smile as he watched their sibling antics play out.

"Ah, sorry, I couldn't resist. Anyways..." the older boy looked back to the rabbit-boy, "...thank again. Really, that was a close call, but you totally came through. We owe you one, EB."

The rabbit-boy merely shrugged, feeling awkward to be receiving praise. Then the girl abruptly grabbed him for a big hug. "You're the best, EB!" she cheerfully announced. The flustered rabbit-boy could only let out a surprised "GAH!!" as he squirmed in her grasp.

An excited young girl rushes into the living room. An older teenaged boy sitting on a ragged sofa looks up from the magazine he was reading. “Look, look! I can make it work this time!” she exclaims. The older boy watches as she places two candles on a table. She holds up a hand in front of one candle and begins to concentrate. Shortly after, a small puff of flame lights the candle's wick.

The girl continues concentrating. The lit candle slowly levitates into the air, then tips itself, touching the wick of the other candle, lighting it as well. Then the airborne candle gently sets itself back down on the table. “Did you see that? Wasn't that awesome?” the girl asks.

“Very nice, sis. Just don't burn the house down, alright?” the boy says with a smirk, turning a page of the magazine. The girl pouts at his lackadaisical reaction. She holds her hand out again, and the flame on both candles is snuffed out.

The older boy tosses his magazine to the side and moves to sit next to his sister, putting an arm around her. “Hey, I was just kidding around. You're getting so much better at this every day, it's amazing.” She turns her head to look at him, and the smile on his face is enough to bring one to her own.

“You're going to do great things someday, I know it.”

"I told you already, she's NOT HERE!!"

The angry shout was loud enough for the girl to hear from her hiding place, inside an old wooden chest in the attic of their living space. More shouting followed. Then the sounds of a physical altercation. The girl stays silent, hugging her knees tightly to her chest.

Then, two gunshots. The worst sound ever.

Several minutes later came the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs leading up to the attic. The two goons were checking every corner, every nook and cranny. They began rooting through the boxes littered around the room. The girl holds her breath, daring not to make the smallest sound.

One of the two men opens the chest. She can smell his breath, and his sweat. He seems to look right at her. "Found anything?" his companion asks, from across the room.

"Nah, there's nothing in here," he replies, shutting the lid of the chest again. "She's gone. Probably took off."

"Boss ain't gonna like that," the other man says.

"Yeah, well, what are you gonna do. We probably shoulda just nabbed her the first time."

As the two men descend the stairs, the girl traces her fingers over the cover of the book of illusion spells she had taken with her to her hiding place...

"Where do you think you're going, little girl?"

The girl stops with a gasp. She turns around, trembling, to see two individuals emerging from the shadows. The light from the street lamps casts a glow across their grinning faces. The first, a man, begins circling around her on the right. "It's getting late, you know? You don't want to be caught all alone..."

The second individual, a woman, makes a straight line towards her. As the girl evasively steps backwards, the woman quickens her pace. "That's a niiiice book you got there. Where'd you find that? Looks pretty special. Maybe you're special too, eh?"

The girl turns to run. There was no way she could win running straight away, so she zigzags through a nearby alley. After rounding a corner, she quickly throws up an illusion spell to hide herself. The two goons round the corner. When they don't find her, they exchange a quick look and split up, the man heading back the way they'd come, and the woman going on ahead.

The girl waits until she no longer hears their footsteps. Moving as quietly as possible, she exits the alley.

"Got ya."

The two had been lying in wait for her. "Heh, magic users... thinkin' you're clever with your fancy tricks, but we've seen that one already," the woman jeers.

As the goons advance toward her, the girl is overcome with fear. Her legs are shaking. She looks down at the ground, her hair covering her eyes and the tears welling up in them. "D-Don't... don't c-come any c-c-closer," she manages to sputter.

Both of them laugh. "Or what?" the man says. "You gonna cast a magic spell? Well, I've got a spell for you. It's called switchblade!"

Suddenly, the book in her hand bursts open, the pages fluttering as if blown by an invisible gust of wind. "I said..." She places a hand on one of the pages, the lines on the page glowing brightly. "DON'T. COME. ANY. CLOSER!"

Two dark wisps shoot out of the book and fly right into the mouths of the two assailants. Their eyes roll back into their heads and they clutch their throats, falling to the ground and convulsing.

The girl stands over them with an expression of twisted delight. "I told you... I told you... Hahaha. Hahaha... hahahaha... HAHAHAHAHA!" She laughs maniacally. In a moment, however, her expression changes to one of horror.

She turns and runs away. Runs away as fast as she can.

As she runs, a rumble of thunder sounds overhead. Soon she is running through soaked streets, splashing through puddles, as a downpour commences. When she stops for a moment to catch, she sees an immense building looming ahead. A stroke of lightning illuminates the letters on the building's face: DISTRICT MUNICIPAL LIBRARY.

The older woman sighs. “Well, yes, it is about something he said. But it’s not because he doesn’t like you. On the contrary, he’s quite concerned about you. As am I.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “Patch, lately you’ve seemed… distant. Gloomy. Is there something wrong? Something going on in your life that’s bothering you, something you need help with? Your coworkers have noticed, and they asked me to speak with you. Please… feel free to speak your mind. We want to help.”

The young woman stares at her feet. The corners of her mouth twitch slightly, as if she wants to speak, but the words never quite reach her lips. Finally, she opens her mouth. “It’s nothing. There’s nothing wrong.”

The older woman seems displeased with this answer. “Patch… I’ve known, from the day I found you soaked and shivering on the library steps, that there was something in your past that you weren’t comfortable talking about. But I overlooked it at first because you seemed like such a bright young lady. You were helpful to the library visitors, you read stories to the children… you seemed like you were happy here. But… it didn’t last. Over the past year or so, it seemed like a dark cloud settled over you, and you’ve become more and more withdrawn. I’m asking nicely, but I really want to know what’s going on with you. For starters, isn’t it about time you gave me your real name?”

“I can’t. True names have power-”

“That’s a bucket of horseradish and you know it. I’ve gotten to know several mages in my time as head librarian, and none of them have ever had any issue sharing their names with me. Though, I do suspect that your magical abilities have something to do with all of this… am I correct?”

Minutes pass in silence.

The young woman remains stone-faced.

The older woman sighs again and rubs her temples. “Well, I can see that I’m getting nowhere with you. For whatever reason, you just don’t want to open up. I wish you would, dear. I really wish you would. But... I’m going to let you get back to work. Promise me you’ll at least
try to be pleasant to others today.”

The young woman nods. “Thank you. I will try.” Rising from the chair, she turns and exits the room.

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