#dunno where to put her now. originally she was going to return to her moth tribe and i might. do that still. have her try to live as just a | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yungimmortals · 3 years

Text

moving day | joel & jade

date: august 17th, 2021 summary: yeah that’ll be one vegetarian everything but the kitchen sink (“and yes that includes pineapple, thank you”) pizza

Jade dropped her overfull suitcase on the ground unceremoniously. He’d move it to the bed in a bit, since he planned on living out of it for the next three weeks, but for now she was interested in exploring the cabin that looked like nobody bothered to clean since it was last lived in. With pillows, blankets, and cushions strewn about into some sort of half-collapsed fort, it was at least cozy, despite the need for a bit of a revamp (and definitely a dusting).

The twins had been directed here by Chiron, who seemed less than excited about their arrival. He was probably informed of their stunt by the messenger gods that kept track of them, and the fact that they’d gotten him a PARTY PONIES: OHIO AQUATIC DIVISION shirt didn’t seem to lighten his mood very much. Whatever, Jade was still wearing his. Still, the centaur was nice, and polite, and let them know that this was the cabin that they’d be staying in, and if the twins wanted to find their siblings, most of them lived together in town. That’s right, siblings. Of course Jade was excited at the prospect, but part of her was nervous to meet them. Was one sibling not enough? What if they thought he was weird or didn’t want to interact with him? Whatever. She pushed the thoughts from her brain as she took a seat on her suitcase and let out a huff. “I can’t believe we went all the way to West Virginia and didn’t even see Mothman. We’re going back, since we’re closer than before.” He picked up a pillow to hold to his chest. “I want him to lay eggs in me like I’m a caterpillar and he’s a wasp.”

Ducking out from under a sheet that was tacked up between a wall and the corner of a long-unused bunk, Joel let out a low whistle. "Look how cool this place is, buddy." He reached up to scratch the chin of the bearded dragon perched on his shoulder. Where Jade had brought his stuff in before exploring, Joel had practically bolted into the cabin, ditching his suitcase in favor of exploring the place he'd be calling home for the foreseeable future.

He came to a stop in front of a wall of photos in the corner. Or what had been a wall of photos. The paint was discolored in places, sun-bleached from being covered for so long, he guessed. Here and there, a few stubborn pieces of tape still stuck to the wall. There were only a few photographs left and the sun had done a number on them too. "Jay, come check this out," Joel called, gingerly removing a photo from the wall as his twin entered the cabin.

When he didn't immediately come over to see the very cool thing he wanted to show him, he wandered out of the half-collapsed fort and back into the cabin's main area— just in time to hear Jade's Mothman discourse. "Oh, eugh. Gross. You would." Joel nudged her shoulder with a laugh. "I'm totally down to go back, just...give me two weeks before I have to get back in a car. My legs thank you in advance. They be achy. Oh, hey, look at this." Remembering the photograph in his hand, Joel let it flutter down to Jade's lap. "Think these were the other kids Chiron was talking about? Sure is a lot of 'em. They can't all be...right? Right?"

Jade grinned up at Joel as he bumped into him. He’d been hoping for a bit of a shudder, but he'd said far worse to him, so it was no surprise that Joel wasn't too off-put. "Yeah, I'm good not having to drive a couple hundred miles to get a bed and a shower." He stretched his legs out in front of him, grabbed the photograph that Joel had given him, and stood, inspecting the picture as he folded over, stretching out his back. "Hmm. You're wondering how much our father, who art on Olympus, got around?" Jade straightened up and twisted his neck to the side so that he could crack it, then reached up to scratch under Toothless's chin.

"I don't know. You think they're all here?" Jade held up the picture so that the two of them could inspect it together. "Maybe some moved away? And..." She pointed at two of the faded faces. "Are those the freaking clones? No way I'm related to a clone." He cracked a smile and then pointed at Joel. "Unless twins is a cover up. Who's the original? I call it."

"A shower!" Joel crowed, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He lifted the collar of his shirt and took a sniff— yeah he was definitely (over)due for one. "Remind me to do that after we get settled. But heck, we're so close to the moth, the man, the legend. That'll be an easy trip when we feel up to it again. Maybe next time Toothless will pull his weight on the trip, eh?" When Jade cracked his neck, Joel made a face at the sound, as if he hadn't done the same exact thing the moment he'd extricated himself from their car. "He's a god, obviously, he fucks. Weren't the Greeks all about hedonism? Oh snap, that is them!" This was directed at the photo in Jade's hand, faded faces smiling up at him from the no-longer glossy picture. His smile mirrored that of his twin. "I'm the original, you broke the mold. Too cool for us all."

Jade barked a “ha!” at Joel’s description of Mothman, her eyes bright as she looked up at him. “Yeah, and then the Romans created stoicism to balance them out. All killjoys. Definitely do not fuck.” She pointed at Joel and bared her teeth in a grin so wide it was practically a grimace, her eyes crinkling up. “Of course you’d say that. I say I’m the original, you just improved the structure. Better posture, more muscle mass, but you sacrificed the most important part.” She stuck her tongue out. “My excellent personality.”

She stretched her arms behind her head as she yawned. “What do you say? We scope out the sibs before we sink our teeth in? Find out what they’re like?”

"Definitely not," he agreed with a laugh. "Hey, these muscles were hard work. Chopping wood really bulks you up. That and carrying Mrs. Wainwright's great dane for a mile when he gives up halfway through our walks but I have to get him back to her house somehow." Joel stuck his tongue out at her in return. "I could never hold a candle to your winning personality."

Switching his attention to the photograph again, he shrugged one shoulder. "Might be a good idea. I dunno, I'm up for it if you are. Although, I've already got the best sibling right here." He slung an arm around Jade's shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Truthfully, he was excited to meet more potential siblings if there were any to be found. But at the same time, he had Jade. And the two of them had only ever really needed each other. Judging by the state of the cabin, he assumed any of their other relatives lived in town, if they'd stuck around at all. "Think they're all weirdos?"

“I never said they weren’t,” Jade replied breezily. “But that heart... maybe I am the clone. I would’ve left the dog to find his own way home. What can be programmed more easily, empathy for Scoob or a cool ass personality? Robots can be cool...” He trailed off as he considered each of the different options, as if he were actually wondering which of the two of them was a clone.

“Well, duh, same.” Jade laughed and reached around Joel so that he could pinch his side. He were nervous, but the prospect of something new was so tantalizing it made him ignore the fear of rejection. He snorted. “If they’re related to us, I’d put money on it. Plus, you know, clones and jerks without shadows? Sounds like the right kind of weird.” He ground his teeth together as he grinned once more.

Joel jostled Jade, laughing. "Now, c'mon. You couldn't leave ol' Scooby behind. He would've howled all sad as you walked away. Robots are cool. You a robot?" He made a surprised sound at being pinched, swatting Jade's hand away. "Truuuue. Y'know, it was the shadow that got me. What were the odds, honestly. I thought we were the only freaks like that." He snapped some finger guns at his twin. At the same time, his stomach growled loudly. "Unpack then food? Food then unpack? I wanna head into town to explore. How expensive do you think it is around here? I've got—" From his pocket, Joel produced a piece of lint, a very crumpled five dollar bill, and the drachmas they'd been gifted. "I've got enough. You hungry?"

Jade snorted and rolled her eyes, a crooked smile clear on her face. "And I would've turned my music up." She shook her head, as stiffly as she could managed and blinked at two different times with her eyes. "No. I am. Hu-man." She smiled and shook her head. "Nah, I knew there were others out there, I believed." When her stomach growled in response, she laughed. "I'm liking option two. We can check out what food they have out in town? Two birds?" She raised her eyebrows at Joel.

"That's some chameleon-type shit," he said matter-of-factly, then flicked a coin from his hand at Jade, trusting them to catch it. His flannel was already tossed over the corner of a bunk and Joel snagged it. Pulling it on over his PARTY PONIES tee, he surveyed the cabin once more. His expression turned wistful. This would be home for them. This strange town filled with more strange things in one place than they had ever seen before. Joel was desperate to get out and explore. He nodded at her. "Yeah, that sounds solid. Two birds, one drachma. And maybe an extra large pizza."

#m: joel #joel&jade #joel&jade 004 #chatzy #moving day

1 note · View note

axiomink · 5 years

Text

A Happy Ending

One day you suddenly start hearing muffled voices and the amount of them slowly increases. Eventually, you find out that they are praying to you and that they are people from stories you have created! Somehow, they have gained sentience and have discovered that you created their world.

2.1k words

The air was dank and still as death itself. Suffocating, shoving its way into my throat and rotting my consciousness. The light of my lantern was the only thing keeping the monsters at bay, the only thing keeping their gnashing teeth from sinking it my skin.

“No no no,” I said aloud. “Too dark.”

I groaned and shoved the ancient typewriter away from me, then cracked open a lukewarm bottle of beer. I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ivory paper muddied by my words. Who was I kidding? I lost my touch. Ten years from the last time I wrote a paragraph had slipped through my fingers. Maybe in a past life the writing gods had blessed me, but in this one they only abandoned me.

After I chugged down the beer, I threw the empty bottle across the room, and it knocked my old cat in the head. He yawned and hissed at me, struggled to all fours, then bore his teeth—tail taut and stiff.

It wasn’t unusual for him to scold my self-loathing hijinks, but he would’ve calmed down by now. He stood up and trotted to the coat closet nestled in between the stairwell and the wall. He prodded the door with his paw. I stood up and leaned on my cane, then hobbled towards the closet. As I came closer, whispers leaked out and drifted into my ears. They were great in number and clamored over each other, yet I had never heard them before.

Palms sweaty, I nudged my cat away, cracked the door open, and peeked inside. A large portal, about six fee tall, hovered in the spot where my coats and jackets were supposed to be. The portal was bright and holographic, reflecting every light that touched it.

“What the hell,” I muttered.

The whispers grew louder, beckoning me like moths to a lamp. I stuck my fingers through, and after their tips brushed against silky foliage, I stepped through the portal. The whispers were deafening by now; saying, “Finish our story.”

I tripped on the seam of the portal and fell face-first into a pile of hangars and coats. I dug myself out and looked around to see five short figures, clad in dark, hooded cloaks, encircling me and chanting prayers and creeds. I stumbled back.

The tallest figure addressed me first. “We’ve done it!“

She whipped off her hood to reveal a pale, freckled face topped by ginger locks and bejeweled by emerald eyes. Her age shocked me the most; she had to be no older than eleven.

“Our creator has returned!” Her voice was girlish and innocent, with a tinge of exhaustion. “Everyone, bow!”

The four other figures collapsed to their knees, and the girl knelt at my feet.

“Wha—what is this?” I demanded, backing away.

The girl stood back up. “It’s me, Reese. You made me, remember?”

I picked through dusty, castaway memories.

“You were my first original character,” I said, half-guessing. “I created you as the main character for a book.”

Reese turned to the others, who pulled back their hoods as well.

“They remember! Do you remember anyone else?”

I studied the four faces. The boy with fluffy brown hair and brown eyes was Hunter, formerly Trevor. There was Jessie, Reese’s nerdy tech friend, with wild curly hair and dark skin. There was Missy, the resident mean girl turned buddy. And then there was . . . I grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” I said, turning towards the scrawny kid with messy, sand-colored hair. “I forgot your name.”

He gulped. “I uhh, can’t remember it either.”

“What?” I asked.

“Since you forgot it, so did he,” Reese said.

I stared at all of them. “How is this possible? How are you all . . . alive?”

“We’ve always been alive,” said Hunter, “from the moment you first thought of us. You are our benevolent god, and when you left us, we were forced to become sentient of our existence.”

“Okay, now this is getting a little creepy.”

“We just want you to set us free,” begged Missy. “We’ve been trapped here, in a static world that doesn’t change, expand, or age. We don’t how long it’s been. Time is an illusion here.”

“And how do I ‘set you free’, exactly?”

“Finish our story,” replied Reese. “Once you do, we’ll be able to take control of our own actions and world.”

I looked around me. I stood in a giant, lush forest. The grass was emerald green, the trees looked as if they touched the clouds, and wildlife was abundant. But as I examined closer, ominous things stuck out. I could feel no wind, the grass and leaves and foliage were beautiful in an unnatural way, and the animals moved stiffly, as if they were robots enslaved to a pre-written script. Even the horizon seemed empty and vague, like you’d fall off the edge of the earth if you left the forest.

“So I have to write the ending to the novel you guys were all in,” I said.

“Yes, but it has to be a real continuation, a real ending,” said Reese. “You have to put as much effort into it as you did before.”

I cringed. “Listen guys, I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. It’s been ten years since I tried writing anything—The Secret Forest was my last project.”

“But you have to help us,” chimed in the boy whose name I forgot.

“I said I can’t!”

I retreated towards the portal, but I secretly didn’t want to leave. I was curious and wanted to explore the world I had created.

“I knew they wouldn’t help us,” muttered Jessie.

“I’m not surprised either,” said Missy. “They abandoned us before anyway. Looks like you were wrong, prophet.”

Reese sighed and grabbed my arm. “Hey, can you at least stay with us for a bit? Maybe you’ll change your mind? Tell us about the universe you live in.”

The offer tempted me. “All right, fine.”

So I stayed there, in the forest. At first I forgot all about my cat, but he ventured through the portal and Missy found him on the second night. She continued to coddle the lively thing.

After spending time with the nameless boy, where he showed me magic tricks and told funny jokes, I decided to call him Curly. It wasn’t a great name, or even a good one, but Reese said once I finished the story, he’d be able to change it for himself.

In speaking of finishing the story, Reese still acted like I would do it, which made me uncomfortable. I distracted myself by spending hours building skyscrapers and transformer cars with Jessie.

I painted my face in striking colors and tried on dazzling clothes with Missy. Suits, dresses, she owned everything.

Hunter didn’t like me very much, and Reese told me it was because he was jealous. She was the main character, and so he was he, but slightly less so. He believed he should’ve been the prophet—the main character.

“But I still like him,” she said, sighing.

“Eugh,” I replied.

“What? He is the love interest after all! You used to ship us.”

“Yeah, but not anymore. Honestly, now that I look back, all of you guys sucked.”

Reese was taken aback. She shifted on the large tree branch we were sitting on. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, all of you are one-sided and poorly developed. I based all of your personalities off of stupid tropes, you know. And you’re a friggin’ self-insert from when I was like, eleven.”

A tear welled in her eye. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” she choked out. “You had just started writing.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve done better. That’s why I quit, you know? I just didn’t like what I was writing. It was just so . . . bad. Everything, the plot, the world-building, and especially the characters.”

By now her face was red as rubies. “But you are going to finish our story, right?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Do I want to? I don’t really care or like any of you so. I’m not a writer anyway, not anymore.”

She turned away. “You don’t know what it’s like,” she muttered, “to not have name. You don’t know what it’s like being trapped, in a median where you’re never truly caught nor free. You don’t know what it’s like staring into the eyes of someone who loves you back, but you can’t have them. Or even confess to them. You don’t know what hopelessness feels like”

“Well, fun fact—I do,” I snorted. “Man, that sure was a dramatic monologue. Don’t remember writing you as the emo trope.”

Reese gasped and jumped down from the tree, landing with grace on the mossy ground. “Fine!” she yelled. “Go home then! Keep Hunter and I apart! Keep all of us from living our lives!”

She stormed off towards the waterfall and swiped her arm across her face.

I groaned and slipped down the tree, with much less precision and poise. I began to follow her, but Hunter appeared and stopped me.

“You should probably let her be,” he said. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do, I’m not going to give you some stupid pep talk about how you’re still a writer. Maybe you are, maybe you’re not. You don’t have to keep writing, and you don’t even owe us a happy ending. But remember that you created something you still control, and you’re responsible for it.”

I stared at him. “Well, I certainly don’t remember writing you like this either.”

“Every character has potential,” he responded.

I thought for a moment, then turned and headed to the waterfall.

Reese bent over her reflection as it rippled with the waves. The waterfall towered over her, pouring gallons of sapphire liquid from an eternal source.

“It’s the only area that changes,” she explained, hearing us approach.

“Do you have a typewriter I could borrow?” I asked.

She didn’t look at me. “What’s a typewriter?”

“You’ll uh, you’ll find out. Is there any paper around, then? I need lots of it.”

“Why?” she asked, solemn.

“Guess.”

She stood up. “What made you change your mind?”

Hunter nudged me and whispered, “Don’t tell her I did it, she will not like that.”

“I just decided to,” I said. “Do I have to like, put something that indicates it’s the end?”

“No,” Reese said. “It’s the end whenever you decide it’s the end. You have to return home first, I imagine. Since our world will change drastically when you close it off.”

“Of course.”

So Curly came over and slapped down a stack of fresh copy paper while Missy gave me her lucky pencil and eraser. Then I got settled in the lush grass and wrote and wrote, scribbling my heart and mind out.

For the first few hours writer’s block trapped me, but my characters gave me ideas and helped me fight through it. Callouses formed on my fingers, my eyes were bloodshot, but I kept pressing the lead to paper. Missy’s pencil was soon ground to a nub, and eraser bits covered the area.

I wrote from sun up to sun down, and once I was nearly done I wished everyone goodbye—Curly, Missy, Jessie, Hunter, and Reese. Missy gave back my old cat, who had warmed up quite a bit to her.

They escorted me to the field where they prayed before, and I helped Reese summon another portal. Everyone waved and cheered as I stepped through—papers, cat, and coats in my arms.

I tumbled out of the closet and sealed the portal, then sat down in front of my typewriter and put the finishing touches on the ending. Once I was sure it was done, I wrote, ‘The End’ in big, bold letters, just to make it official.

It was a rough draft, so it was far from perfect. I knew that. But I didn’t mind this time.

I leaned back and wondered what kind of life my characters would lead. Jessie might become a NASA scientist; Curly a stand-up comedian or perhaps a famous Youtuber; Missy a fashion designer; Reese an environmental activist; and Hunter would follow her where ever.

Afterwards, I never wrote again.

THE END

So this was for a mini-contest. I know it’s vaguely personal essay-esque, because I feel like if my ocs came to life there’d be a certain set that would be very upset with me. My first idea was that the ocs would kidnap me and take me to their world because this crazy serial killer from another story I wrote somehow escaped into their world, and I would be the only one who could stop him. That idea would have had more of a humorous slant, but in the end I just went with this one.

#writing #short story #writeblr #writing prompt #creative fiction #original writing #my writing #axioms

2 notes · View notes