#you can tell which merchants I like the most by how much garbage I sold them

[slusheeduck]

Fun fact: I have a character that I do RP in ESO with named Aelanne “Smiteface” Bertault who’s a thief and a member of a Daedric cult/guild as a Harbinger of Nocturnal and I love her a lot so I wrote a thing with her that takes place about 30 years after current events.

So it’s below the cut along with a picture one of my guildmates comissioned that I am IN LOVE with.

^das her, and the artist is @lucyxbreeze on twitter and I’ve linked you to her commission page so you should ABSOLUTELY HIT HER UP.

Trial By Shade

               Garikh was running out of money.

               He hadn’t had all that much to begin with, but the travel, the inns, and the coins slipped around for information were starting to add up. And after running all over Tamriel, he might just have to go back to Abah’s Landing with his tail between his legs and hope that he wasn’t mocked too viciously.

               Well, at least no more than he was before he left.

               He shifted his pack as he walked into Camlorn, already certain that he’d been given some wrong information. This was hardly a town, much less a central hub, and he was pretty sure there wasn’t even an outlaw’s refuge here. The Breton who’d given him a lift here said that there’d been some sort of massive werewolf uprising or something twenty years back that they were still recovering from. Certainly wasn’t the sort of place where he’d find her.

               But the sun was setting, and he was exhausted. He might as well spend the night, and thanks to that Breton’s chattering, he’d be able to pay for that once he sold the fine abacus in his pack. He’d be able to pick up another, after all, it wasn’t like they were rare.

               Now he just hoped he’d be able to sell it without a fence.

               He walked around the town, trying his best not to attract attention to himself, which was easier said than done as an Orc nearly a head taller than anyone else in the town. There, that looked like a shop. He slipped in as best he could, just barely keeping from slamming his head against the doorframe.

               “And what can I do for you, f’lah?”

               Garikh looked up, confused at the endearment, to see a Dunmer woman sitting behind the counter and staring at him. Well, he assumed she was staring at him; it was hard to tell with the tinted lenses she wore.

               “Are you the shopkeeper?”

               “I am. Bertault and Associates, at your service.” She stayed seated, but sent a big smile his way. Cautiously, Garikh made his way forward.

               “Who are the associates?”

               “Well, people like you, looking to buy and sell.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table and chin resting in her hands. “So, which one are you?”

               “I’m a seller,” he said quickly, pulling the abacus out from his bag. “How much can I get for this?”

               The Dunmer’s eyebrows rose, and she tossed her gray-streaked braid over her shoulder before taking it. Despite the dark glasses, she seemed to be looking it over intently.

               “This is Breton work. Makes sense, of course, but you don’t seem very local.”

               Garikh swallowed hard. “I…I picked it up in Daggerfell. Thought I’d need it, turns out I didn’t. I…give me a second and I’ll think of the shop name and…” He stopped as the Dunmer held up her hand.

               “I don’t care where you got it from,” she said. “What I care is if I can sell it to someone. Which, given how there’s no personalization, I can.” She set the abacus down. “Truth be told, it’s not worth much, but I like to give a bonus for first sales. How’s thirty gold sound?”

               Garikh blinked a few times, then smiled. “That sounds perfect!” He coughed. “I mean…I think I can work with that.” As she opened her till, he shifted back and forth. “Could…you tell me where the inn is?”

               “Straight back past my shop. Their mead is garbage, but their stew makes up for it.” She smiled as she held out the gold. “And this will more than cover that and a room.”

               Garikh smiled back as he took the coin, then shifted it in his hands. “It’s, uh, I wasn’t expecting to see a Dunmer here. Doesn’t seem like the place.”

               “Well, doesn’t seem like the place for an Orc, either, but here we both are.” Behind the dark glass lenses, he could just barely catch a wink. “Sometimes you’ve got to make a place for yourself, f’lah. Better you learn that now than later.” She waved him off. “Now, unless you’re looking to buy something, go on out. I’ve got dinner to put on, and you look fit to drop. Any longer and you won’t even make it to the inn’s door.”

               Garikh gave her a quick thanks, then made his way out. Well, still a failure of a trip, but at least he’d be able to report a new fence back to the others.

~

               The shopkeeper had been right about the stew, and the room wasn’t too bad, either. It even locked, which Garikh was sure to take advantage of before getting into bed. Even if he couldn’t sneak to save his life, he’d heard countless stories from the others in the guild of how easy it was to rob a sleeping guest blind.

               He dropped to sleep without a problem, and he couldn’t quite say what it was that woke him up. But the light sound of a throat being cleared was enough to make him bolt up in bed. In the dark room, he could hardly see anything; and if it weren’t for the two glints of silver in the corner of the room, he might not have known that anyone was there until it was too late.

               “St-stay back!” he said, edging toward the side of the bed, hand flailing to the bedside table. “Or I’ll, I’ll…”

               “Gonna be hard to threaten me without this, friend,” the shadow in the corner said, holding up the dagger he’d been looking for. “Besides, it’s rude to threaten visitors. You should know better than that.” The shadow—it was a woman, if the voice was any indication—made her way to the desk in the other corner, tossing the dagger onto it before perching on it herself. “By the way, don’t trust inn locks. They are the easiest things in the world to pick.”

               Garikh swallowed, blinking a few times as his eyes finally adjusted. The shadow was definitely a person, though her dark clothes and mask made her practically melt into the darkness. But the silver eyes…no. No, it couldn’t be this easy. And yet…

               “It’s you,” he said breathlessly. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

               “I’m aware. You’ve left a trail about a mile wide behind you,” the shadow said wryly, stretching her arms over her head. “That’s why I figured I had to find you before you found me.” Her head tilted curiously. “But why work so hard?”

               “Why…I mean, you’re the Dark Lady!” Garikh pulled himself up to his knees, barely able to keep his voice down in his excitement. “The shadow with stars for eyes, the most well-known unknown figure in Tamriel! Some people even say you’re…you’re an aspect of Nocturnal!”

               She let out an irritated noise. “Do they? No wonder my luck’s been rotten lately. She’s awfully touchy about that.”

               Garikh swallowed, heart pounding in his chest, and he quickly got out of the bed, nearly stumbling as he went on his knees in front of her. “Please. I’ve traveled all this way, so please, please take me as your apprentice.”

               “Oh, don’t do that. It’s not going to get you anywhere. I don’t take even apprentices.” Garikh looked up to see the Dark Lady wave her hand dismissively. “Surely you’ve got a friend in the Thieves Guild you can shadow or something.” She laughed at her unintentional joke, but sobered as Garikh stayed put on the ground. “I know you’re in the guild, your leathers are in the bag.”

               “That’s the thing. I am in the guild, but…I’m hardly a thief. I’m too big, too clumsy. They really just use me as…as a bodyguard when they go somewhere dangerous. But I know I can be better. But I need help.” He swallowed hard, staring up into the two silver eyes fixed curiously on him. “I need you, and I need Nocturnal.”

               The Dark Lady stared at him silently for several long moments. There was no expression for him to read, but the air was thoughtful.

               “I can’t help you,” she finally said.

               “Yes, you can. I…” He stopped as she held up a hand, but he kept his gaze fixed on her, whole body tense.

               “Nocturnal doesn’t work like most Princes,” she said, crossing her legs at the ankle. “Proclaiming your devotion to her and offering a life of service could fall on deaf ears if she’s not interested. She chooses you. That’s what’s happened to me.”

               “But…the stories say you commune with her.”

               “Funny way of putting it, but I’m her Harbinger, so of course I talk to her. Provided she feels like it, obviously.”

               “Then could you convince her?”

               To his surprise, the Dark Lady laughed—a full, head-thrown-back laugh that didn’t match any of the stories about her.

               “Me? I couldn’t convince Nocturnal to do anything!” She giggled again, pulling up her legs to cross them and resting her hands on her knees. “Ah, you’re doing marvelous things to my ego, friend, so I’ll humor you. Tell me about your first theft.”

               Garikh blinked, then thought back. “It was…shortly after I left my fortress. I found myself in some little town and I…I didn’t know what to do. I applied for work but no one was hiring, and eventually I got so desperate, I just…I was at an inn, and I saw this beautiful sculpture. It was small enough to hide in my pack, and no one was even looking at it. And something in me just told me to take it.”

               The Dark Lady tilted her head. “And did you?”

               “I did.”

               “And were you caught?”

               “No. Carried it around for a bit, then the merchant I tried to sell it to pointed me toward an outlaw’s refuge. It was so easy, I just…I kept doing it.”

               It was hard to tell, but he thought the Lady was smiling at him.

               “You were supernaturally lucky,” she mused.

               “I was. And then I joined the Thieves Guild, but…they act like there’s no place for an Orc there. And I try. I try so hard. But I can’t sneak, and I’m not small, and…” He sighed, shoulders sagging. “I thought, if I had help from Nocturnal, I could be the thief I want to be.”

               The Lady sighed, shutting her eyes. “It won’t be so easy,” she said, nearly sounding weary. “Nocturnal doesn’t work like that. You have to improve yourself, or she won’t waste her time.” She hopped off of the desk, stretching again. “But it sounds like the guild might not be the place for you.”

               “Are you saying I should quit?” Garikh hated the way his voice cracked as he spoke, but he couldn’t help it. All this trouble, just for the Dark Lady to tell him he was no good?

               “I mean, you could. But me personally, I never liked the guild all that much. Too much beaurocracy, too many blurred lines, too strict for my taste.” She put her hands on her hips. “Once I was out, I taught myself. There’s more to thieving than sneaking and picking locks.” Her head tilted again. “Why did you leave home?”

               Garikh swallowed. “I didn’t fit in. I’ve never liked fighting or grandstanding.” He half-smiled. “The Forge-wife blamed my mother’s weakness, what with dying so soon.”

               The Dark Lady sighed and shook her head. “It’s always the motherless with her,” she mumbled to herself, then looked back at Garikh. There was determination in the sliver of her face he could see, and her eyes blazed like silver fire. “I told you, I can’t help you with Nocturnal, and I don’t take apprentices. But here’s what I can tell you: make your home in the shadows. Find comfort in the darkness, and she’ll find you and welcome you home.” The fire in her eyes softened, and she shrugged. “And that’s all I can offer you, friend.”

               “Wait!” Garikh scrambled to his feet even as she sighed.

               “I can’t wait. It’ll be dawn soon, and I do better in the darkness.”

               “But…is there any way I can convince you to train me? Even a bit? I-I have coin! Not much, but…” He trailed off as she turned back around, arms crossed and eyes stern.

               “What I have can’t be bought. Mostly because you left your coin purse out like a fool.” From practically out of nowhere, she pulled out his coin purse. He gaped, just barely able to catch it when she tossed it to him. “But changing my mind won’t be easy. If you think you can prove yourself, then your first task will be finding me again. And next time, Garikh, I won’t help.”

               “How did you…”

               “Hide your tracks better. Otherwise this will be the only time we ever meet.” She gave him a quick salute, then practically melted into the shadows. By the time he blinked, she was gone.

               Garikh stayed still for a very long time, until the darkness outside began to lighten to gray. On one hand, he’d found her. But on the other, he’d still failed. His grip tightened around his coin purse.

               A step was a step. If he found her once, he could find her again.

               And, if Nocturnal wanted hard work, then he’d give her every ounce of effort he could to be the best thief in Tamriel.

#eso #elder scrolls #fanfic #i just wanted to dump this somewhere tbh #I have a lot of feelings about Aelanne and one day I'll give a full backstory for her #But I got other stuff I gotta do today

[razieltwelve]

Voices #2 (Worm x Final Rose)

“What exactly is the plan here?” Taylor murmured. School had been horrible, but far less horrible than usual. Diana’s advice had allowed her to avoid the worst of the trio’s attacks while subtly but effectively striking back. “Because becoming a hero isn’t exactly… easy.”

I know that. I had plenty of time to rummage through your brain while I was making some changes.

“That doesn’t sound reassuring,” Taylor replied. “And about those changes… not that I’m ungrateful but…”

Heh. Taylor, trust me when I say this, getting you back to at least average health was necessary. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be a lot more than average. As for that… warmth you’ve been feeling, that’s your Aura. We’ll talk more about it later, but for now, just be glad you’ve got it. It’ll reduce the damage you take, boost your physical abilities slightly, and just generally make things easier for you.

“Wow. Um… okay. But about the plan?” Taylor winced. “I mean… I’ve thought about being a hero before even before all of… this, but it’s not easy. The Bay is pretty much a war zone, and there’s plenty of examples of people who’ve tried to do the right thing and ended up dead because of it.”

Exactly. That is why we’re going to have to be careful about this. Using the terms your people have, we’re going to set you up as a Tinker with some other related abilities. It’s the easiest thing for me to help you with.

“Being a Tinker isn’t easy,” Taylor replied. “We’d need resources, and we’d be targeted too.”

Which is why we’d be subtle. And, Taylor, you’re talking to someone who built up a fleet of autonomous drones as a child using nothing more than junkyard parts and scrap.

“Oh.” Taylor nodded. “Well, I guess that’s good then.” She yawned. “What are you going to teach me tonight?”

Engineering, Taylor. After all, math isn’t much good if you don’t do anything with it. You’re going to get a crash course in drone construction. Prepare to be amazed.

X     X     X

Taylor was suitably amazed, which was how she found herself skulking through the backstreets and alleys in the middle of the night. Electronics shops and other related stores dumped things all the time for all kinds of reasons. Form what she’d learned from Diana, she should be able to obtain what she needed if she was careful enough.

It was frighteningly logical.

Start small by taking scrap and garbage. It was suboptimal, but no one would notice. Create drones and other basic units to help locate better materials. Work her way up until she could get drones that could handle collection themselves. That was when she could really ramp up.

She’d spent a week getting crash courses in mechanical engineering and robotics from Diana. The amount she’d learned was, well, frightening. Her mind was so much quicker and more flexible now, and Diana was an extremely good teacher albeit a highly unconventional one.

Diana had given her the rough plan, and now Taylor had to fill in the blanks and execute it herself. Cue in the midnight trash stealing.

It took her several hours and almost half a dozen dumpsters before she’d collected everything she needed. And it took her another two days before she finally had it, her very first drone.

Gary #1 - the name had just felt right for some reason - was a little guy. He couldn’t do much more than fly, and he couldn’t even fly quickly. However, he was extremely stealthy, and he could be built using nothing more than scrap. With his help, she’d be able to keep an eye on those dumpsters and any other stores that might interest her.

Not bad.

Taylor grinned. “Thanks for your help.”

I might have taught you a lot, Taylor, but you made the designs yourself. You should be proud. And to celebrate, tonight I’ll be teaching you something else.

“Oh?”

You live in a war zone, Taylor. You’re not combat ready just yet, but I’ll start teaching you how to defend yourself. It’ll come in handy in the future, I’m sure.

X     X     X

After two weeks of building more little drones (Gary #1 through to Gary #20), Taylor hit the jackpot. A large electronics store had been forced to close down after being caught up in a battle between Merchants and ABB. Most of the stock was beyond salvage, but the sheer quantity of stuff being dumped meant there had to be something good in there.

Taylor snuck out of the house and made her way to the dump. It wasn’t easy, but if things worked out, she wouldn’t need to do this again.

You need to be quick. You can’t get caught in the open here. You’re not strong enough to fight your way out of a bad situation, and your drones are basically useless in combat.

“I know,” Taylor whispered. “And I’ll work as fast as I can. I’ve got… I don’t know, maybe seven or eight hours before someone turns up, maybe more since it’s a weekend.”

Assume you’ll have less time. It’s safer.

Taylor crept into the dump with the tools that she’d painstakingly assembled and made her way to where all the broken stock had been dumped. Her lips curved up into a smile as she laid eyes on her prize. There was a lot to work with here. It wouldn’t be easy, but, yes, she could do it.

“Let me know if you see me making any major mistakes,” Taylor said.

I will. But I think you’ll be fine. Now, get to it.

X     X     X

The Lifter #1 was completed in a little over six hours. It was her largest drone yet. Much like the Gary models, it wasn’t especially fast although it was stealthy. What differed was its size and its carrying capacity. The Gary models couldn’t carry the materials they found. Lifter #1 could carry a car if it had to. Sure, it wouldn’t be fast, but for her purposes, stealth and carrying capacity were more important.

After all, she needed to build her base of operations, and Diana had already started showing her all of the tricks she’d need to buy property without getting noticed. She might not have a lot of money, but there were plenty of warehouses along the docks that were being sold for almost nothing.

Nice work.

Taylor smiled. “Thanks.” She watched as Lifter #1 rose up, carrying several hundred pounds of supplies. “This should really help, right?”

It will. Say… Taylor, we need to have a talk about something.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

It’s not bad, but it’s something I’ve been meaning to ask about.

X     X     X

“What is this place?” Taylor asked. She wasn’t in the laboratory or on the porch this time. She was somewhere else.

Diana gestured around at the bustling academy they were right in the middle of. “It’s a school for huntsmen and huntresses.” She grinned at Taylor’s puzzled expression. “Think of them as the capes of my world. I thought it would be a nice place for our chat.”

“You had school likes this?” Taylor smiled ruefully. “Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad in my world if there were places like this.”

“Probably not.” Diana smiled thinly. “If people tried to pull even half the crap your villains do, they’d be dead in my world. Trust me. We didn’t suffer villains lightly.”

“Dead?” Taylor grimaced. “I guess you’ve got a point there. But what did you want to talk about?”

“About your desire to be a hero.” Diana leaned back in her chair and watched the clouds overhead. “Why do you want to be a hero?”

Taylor pursed her lips. “A couple of reasons, I guess.” She looked away. “What happened to me… I don’t want something like that to happen to anyone else. It wasn’t nice, and I’d stop things like that if I could. But…”

“But?”

“You know the Bay wasn’t always the way it is now,” Taylor said softly. “My dad talks about it all the time. It used to be… better. The docks were thriving once, and there were new business opening all the time. People… they had hope then. Now, everything is worse. the docks are dead, and businesses move out every day. This… I understand the heroes are trying, but we’re not even treading water. We’re losing. I’d… I’d like to change that.”

Diana looked at her. “Not bad as reasons go. I can definitely work with it.” She grinned. “But those are big goals, Taylor. What you need to do is to break them down into achievable milestones, things you can aim for on a short term basis. You don’t win a marathon with one big step. You win it by running lots of little steps. You say you want to fix your city, start small and work your way up.”

“Like with the drones?”

“Exactly.”

Taylor smiled and nodded. A thought occurred to her. “Earlier when you showed me some of your world’s history… I saw things. I think…”

“Ah.” Diana grinned again. “You saw Ragnarok.” She chuckled. “Had a tail, lots of orange energy and stuff?”

Taylor shivered and nodded. “It was fighting those other monsters but… what is it?”

“Ragnarok,” Diana said with a sunny smile. “Is a Semblance, an ability given to only a small number of individuals throughout history.”

“It’s a person?” Taylor had honestly thought it was something like an Endbringer, albeit a friendly one.

“Yep. A Semblance is a special power possessed by some people with Aura. Some people’s Semblances let them control electricity or turn invisible. I even knew someone who could bring back the dead.”

“Wow.” Not even Panacea could bring back the dead. “Did you have one?”

“Oh, Taylor.” Diana laughed. “Ragnarok? That was my Semblance.”

“…” Taylor gulped. “What… what could it do exactly?”

“I won’t spoil the surprise, but I will say this.” Diana winked. “If I was around, you lot wouldn’t have an Endbrininger problem.”

“Okay.” Taylor took a deep breath. “You are officially the most awesome person I know.”

“Thank you.” Diana smirked. “But you’re getting pretty awesome yourself. I’ll tell you what. You want to make your debut soon, right? Well, let’s focus on that. What do you need?”

“Armour,” Taylor began. “Weapons. Training. A base.”

“We’ll start on those then. Now that you’ve got your Lifter, we can really get going.”

#worm #final rose #fanfiction #taylor hebert #diana yun-farron #diana yun farron #voices

[douchebagbrainwaves]

SO IT'S ANNOYING THAT WE KEEP GETTING CALLED AN INCUBATOR, BUT PERHAPS INEVITABLE, BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY ONE OF US SO FAR AND NO WORD YET FOR WHAT WE WERE PRACTICING FOR

Startups are stressful, and this, unfortunately, is also taken to an extreme. Dressing down loses appeal as men suit up at the office writes Tenisha Mercer of The Detroit News. Instead of depending on some real test, one's rank depends mostly on one's ability to increase one's rank. Are you overlooking one of the biggest threats to a startup we'd seed funded. But starting a company was an alien idea to them; it was just an artifact of the respective contributions of everyone involved. Fourteen-year-old kids are intrinsically messed up. It means that a programming language should, above all, be malleable. I started writing the essay, and Maria Daniels for scanning photos. You might get it.

They will be the only kind that work everywhere. Partly because some companies use mechanisms to prevent copying. There's an initial phase of negotiation about the big questions right, but not rules that matter. Now everyone knows that this is hard for us to believe, but till just a few hubs. The trade press, we learned, thinks in version numbers. A bad bug might not just crash one user's process; it could crash them all. And yet this guy will be almost as good returns as actually being able to pick winners. Painting was not, in Leonardo's time, as cool as painting now, we should train more Americans to be programmers. For example, our PR firm often pitched stories about how the Web let small merchants compete with big ones.

The somewhat more surprising force was one specific type of innovation: social applications. What should you think about? Users will like you because your software just works, and you can ask each for advice about the other. Why did desktop computers take over? And so although we were constantly hoping that one day in a couple months everything would be stable enough that we could reproduce the error and release a fix. The amount of cutting is about average. Though the most successful alumni, so we are now three months into the life of a hypothetical very fortunate startup as it shifts gears through successive rounds.

In other words, the readers are leaving, and they're begging not to be cut out of the deal. But if you have the luxury of choosing: the top tier VCs, meaning about the top 20 only because they haven't been around long enough. If we want to keep an eye on things you've changed recently. Some angel groups charge you money to pitch your idea to them. We were all just pretending. You just know someone knows something, and then have to call them back to tell them. What's scary about Microsoft is that a company so big can develop software at all. Most successful startups get money from more than one of the big successes have two or three. It's hard to find a bug in something you wrote six months ago the average case if you release once a year is a lot more than you spend. The SEC defines an accredited investor as someone with over a million dollars worth of stock will not, as of this writing, be able to help with technical as well as writing ad copy for garbage disposals. At least, it seems likely enough that it would be hard to start a company. A good PR firm won't bug reporters just because the client tells them to; they've worked hard to build their credibility with reporters, and they can't judge those just from meeting you.

Running software on the server, with SSL included, for less than we paid for bandwidth alone. The customer is always right, that's a sign of something you need to make technology, and all the other makers, the painters or the architects, I would have realized that there was no rational basis for their decision. If Internet startups offer the best opportunity for ambitious people, then a lot of startups that end up going public didn't seem likely to at first. At most software companies, support is offered as a way to distinguish ourselves from competitors who either because they sold desktop software, and it's hard for the copiers of the day to reproduce. So far I've been finessing the relationship between the founders what a dog does to a sock: if it can be very useful. Let them write lists of n things is easier for writers as well as writing ad copy for garbage disposals. In fact, when we took users onto our server. And the strange thing is, this nightmare scenario happens without any conscious malice, merely because of the legitimacy it confers. And partly for the same reason readers like them. With Web-based software is that a company so big can develop software at all. Fortunately, there were few obstacles except technical ones.

It helps if you use a Web-based applications. The best way to get at your data from any computer. As a result, of the company. Being able to release software immediately is a big opportunity here for a new fund to break into this group. It's derived from a guest lecture at Harvard, which incorporated an earlier talk at Northeastern. And the Internet makes copies easy to distribute. Nearly all the greatest paintings are paintings of people, for example, there is no automatic place for Microsoft. Someone probably will eventually. Writing mainframe software required too much commitment up front. One of the most important skills founders need to learn. Someone probably will eventually. It was something to do together, and the top management were real butt-kickers.

Why should any of your data be trapped on some computer sitting on a server somewhere, maintained by the kind of things most people use computers for, a tenth of a second for a click to get to the point where they can put a lot of them wrote software for it. I've described is that they all closed. When an investment scores spectacularly, as Google did for Kleiner and Sequoia, it generates a lot of traditions that are now obsolete, but extremely deeply rooted. In fact, a high valuation can be a really good deal. I did not program this way. Currently the way VCs seem to operate is to invest in the earliest phase. It looks as if server-based software, you can create an enemy if there isn't a real one. 7 secrets of success. It's not mystery meat cooked up out of scraps of pitch letters and press releases, and pressed into molds of zippy journalese. But they usually let the initial meetings stretch out over a couple weeks.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #groups #seed #paintings #ones #lot #architects #disposals #people #contributions #threats #months #relationship #skills #software #programmers #year #stock #credibility #founders #pitch #Tenisha #extreme #press #returns

[thepenwielderposts-blog]

The Traders of the City

I woke up later that night to screaming. I was so startled I fell out of my bed.

“Ha. Got you.”

“Did you. Seriously. Wake me up. For no reason. Other than. To fuck with me.”

“Yes.”

“You remember when I threw you into the trash?”

“Yes”

“Are you immune to garbage compactors?”

He went silent.

“Yes”

“That took a while. I think you’re lying.”

“No. I’m Excalibur. I can’t be destroyed by a garbage compactor.”

“You’re an Excalibitch. I wish I’d never stepped foot inside that cave.”

“It was your destiny.”

“Oh yeah. It was totally destiny. That I was passing through a cave. And I heard someone’s voice calling like a little girl: ‘Someone rescue me! I’m alone and lonely and by myself and I have no company!’ So I, being the good guy, went inside and now I’m stuck with this… with you.”

“Hey, we discussed we’d never talk about me doing that.

“Well boohoo. Where are the papers?”

“Fuck you kid.”

I stood up from the floor and begun my early morning exercises.

“Real help that’ll do for your belly fat.”

“I don’t have belly fat.”

“Really. Sorry. Most people with your… facial structure tend to be… you know.”

“Fat?”

“Fat.”

The conversation ended after that. I finished my exercises, took a bath in a little side bathroom the room had, and got clothed. Sometime after that the stone wall opened and Prick stood there with his prick hanging out.

“WHAT THE FUCK”

“What?”

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED”

“I didn’t want to wear clothes.”

“BUT WHY”

“It’s my home”

“YEAH BUT I’M HERE”

“So. You’re my guests. Deal with it.” He stopped for a second. “Ohhh I get it. You must be gay.”

“WHAT”

“You know. Yesterday when you said-“

“I CLEARLY ONLY SAID IT BECAUSE IT WAS THE PASSWORD” I glanced at his member for a second. “PLEASE”

The sword spoke “Hah. You’re gay.”

“SHUT UP, YOU KNOW I’M NOT”

“Hmm. I don’t know man. The magic sword seems to be able to read your mind.”

“AGHHHHHH”

 Later Prick took us to the city. Decided I should get to know the place I’d be living in for the next… next…

“How long will I be living here again, Prick?”

He looked at me, stopped, pondered and scratched his head for a second, and then responded “About a year.”

At that moment, I swear I felt tears building up in my eyes. “Oh. I see.” I gave a weak “Wooo.” And continued following him. We passed by a numerous amount of shops, merchants, little wooden stalls, traveling traders, and all the sorts. He explained about where I could find all the necessities for my training and survival. Health pots, mana pots, combustible lemons (which I bought a few of), enchanted backpacks, armor, off-hand weapons, wands, and just about anything you can find in a mystical land. Everything is sold by merchants here.

“So here’s my favorite restaurant. Prick’s.”

Do you just like it because it has your name?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well it says ‘Prick’ right in the title.”

“Prick is the owner of this fine establishment.”

“Isn’t that you then?”

“Well if we’re going by name then this restaurant is owned by just about everyone in the city.”

“How so?”

“Everyone in this city is named Prick.”

I gave out a joking laugh. I didn’t believe him. “What. Hah. No that’s not possible.” I pulled a random merchant from the street. “I will buy the most expensive item on you right now if you tell me your real name.”

“Th’ name’s Prick sonny. Been th’a’way since I ‘as born. Here’s my most expensive item. Is an amulet o’ protection.”

I stood there. Looking at him dumbfounded. His name was actually Prick. What the actual fuck. I came to my senses eventually and asked “How much?”

“55 Ruons.”

“All right”

I handed him the Ruons and took the Amulet. I looked back at the original Prick. He was giving me this smug ass face that I wanted to punch right off of him.

“Ok I believe you. Everyone is named Prick.”

Excalibur added “Yup. Seems you found the city for you.”

Ignoring him, I continued.

“Ok, let’s eat at Prick’s.

 Inside the restaurant was amazing. There were about 50 tables, each hand-carved from marble stones, giving each table a unique look. The floor consisted of stones that I didn’t know of. Patterns of dark reds and blues clashing with each other like the old grandiose battles between kingdoms. Colors that did the dance of death as the lights shining from outside the windows shifted the perspective with every waking moment. The walls seemed to flow like waves ready to be plundered and explored. Ready to be turned violent by those ready to adventure its captivating waters.

“This is amazing”

“Too bad you won’t be eating here.”

“What? Why not?”

“You haven’t earned it.”

“When do I earn it?”

“End of the year.”

“I have to endure a year with you and this shitty sword to eat here?”

“Exactly.”

“..You’re on Prick.”

“Hey kid. I just noticed something.”

What was it?

“Prick is naked again”

“Agh. Goddamit, gross!”

I fell back and hit my neck. I was instantly knocked out.

#excalibur #funny #original #kms #funnywriting

[playdohfunnytoycb03fdgd-blog]

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