Loksfjoer

Microfiction and Poetry contest #4

Last day to submit an entry!

A Trainers Ambition [SporkoBug and Calle]

"Of course," Michael said, smiling gently. "Lead the way."
Seeing Niccia happy like this, that was what he wanted to see. He tried to recall the difference between Mythical and Legendary as there was some debate about that among scientists, but his uncle had once said to not worry about it as all Mythicals were Legendary Pokémon, but not all Legendary Pokémon were Mythical.

"I'm not really," Lytse said as he followed Bia. "I just needed Michael to not worry about me. But a quiet place would be nice."
He watched Michael walk in a different direction, feeling much lonelier than before even though he was surrounded by Pokémon.

"Sorry for..." Netherlu began as he pondered what in Arceus' name Nygari was talking about. Why was he supposed to be angry at her? Then he recalled the last time they had spoken and Nygari had been snappy at him. They hadn't spoken since. "Oh, right. Hey, apology accepted. I know I reacted a bit harsh when you flew off; I honestly shouldn't have called after you that if you weren't going to stop for a quick chat you shouldn't bother coming at all. That was insensitive of me and apologize as well."
At that time he really had felt annoyed to see her and that she didn't even make time for a quick chat, but that feeling had gone away rather quickly. Of course he hadn't seen her after that, but he was glad they had the opportunity to make it up now.

Nethan looked down on Xapher. "Oh, it's you," he said. He seemed ready to say something more, but then remembered it was Star Fall and he really shouldn't. "Look out where you are going," he said instead.
"We were on our way to check out the pastries," Mindy said as she joined Xapher. "Hi, I'm Mindy. Human friend of Gavin."
"That's a surprise," Nethan muttered as he glanced to Gavin. Mewtwo making a human friend? What were the odds of that?

Andy listened to Rorsh; he liked this cousin much better than Dialla. He started looking around and he turned his attention on the table with the food.
"Would you like something?" he asked Frosiien. "I can go grab something for us."

Paranormal Activities [SporkoBug and Calle]

The three made their way outside and Mitch led the way to his car. "We are going to have a talk about this," he stated as he glared at them. "Because you led me to believe you were doing some harmless ghost-hunting shit and yesterday I learned about Succibi and now about a fucking raid on a high-security complex."
"If you put it like that..." Mike began, but was cut short by Mitch.
"There is no other way to put it. You two can be thankful I'm inbetween jobs. Now get in the car and I want to know everything you've been doing for this agency."
"I'd ask the same," Benjamin said as he walked to the car. "But I really don't want to know about all your murders."
"Good. The less you know, the better it is."
The three of them got in the car and Mitch drove to the hotel he stayed.

---

Lily closed the door and left. She went through a door to the corridor on the other side, where her assistant already was.
"Now, let's observe them for a while," Lily said, looking through the window of Rose's room. "Oh, and get some books for the Succubus. My darling wants to read, isn't that precious?" She turned to her assistant. "And see if you can locate Benjamin anywhere. He will make a fine test-subject for the advanced tests on her."

---

The doctor hooked him up on a heartbeat monitor and tried to stitch one of the many wounds, but the look he gave the agents was one of little hope this patient would make it.

"Go on," the agent said to Daz. "I thought she was just an alien girl, how can she have a mortal form she can shed?"

Revival of the Dragon Riders

"Exactly," Trevor replied to Noble as he took the lead. "We're not waiting or helping; they can catch up with us."
"The horse seemed fast enough when it ran away," the old dragon rumbled, followed by a snicker.
Trevor let his horse go at a stepping pace; he would give them an opportunity to catch up, but he wouldn't wait around for them. He was certain both Duncan and Gnol knew this area well enough or were skilled enough at tracking to find them again.

When Gnol rode alongside him he listened to what the dwarf had to say. "Okay, take the lead," he said as he held back his horse a bit to fall behind Noble again. And closer to the old dragon who walked there too.

---

"Dragonfruit!" Linda exclaimed when she saw Mercury was in pain. "He needs dragonfruit! That will heal him up. I will go find some!"
And off she went, disappearing between the trees.

"She's a bit rash, sometimes," Mikhal commented as he looked in the direction she had disappeared into. "But most of the time she's a good ally to have." He paused, followed by a sigh. "She has gotten me into trouble as well, but I love having her around."
He shifted a bit; while he had experience riding on horseback, he wasn't used to sit on their back for a long time. And he certainly wasn't used to riding on dragonback.

"Will your horse be joining us again?" he asked Meria.
"I'm sure he'll join us before the next morning," she replied.

---

Fiona landed next to Redclaws and Rachel slid off her back. She had seen Damien jump into the trees and she was certain he would do well on his own.
"Keep an eye on him," she said to Creessa. "If he needs help, call me. I'll be back soon." She walked to some bushes and disappeared between them.

Nobody Will Believe It [SporkoBug and Calle]

Benjamin watched the female patient and the others at that table for a while as he chewed on bread. It reminded him of that catatonic woman he had seen the previous days, but she hadn't been brought in for breakfast yet.
"I don't like this..." he muttered. "I don't like this at all."

A Trainers Ambition [SporkoBug and Calle]

"If you're happy with it," Michael said, "then I am too." He put his arm around her and turned to face all the guests. "Let's mingle in the party for a bit."
He noticed his Cyndaquil wasn't looking happy and he let go of Niccia as he knelt down in front of him. "Lytse, are you okay?" he asked.
"Yes!"" the Cyndaquil quickly squeaked. "It's just... overwhelming being here. But I have Bear, and my new friend here. You really should stay with Niccia and meet some legendary Pokémon.
Michael hesitated for a moment and nodded. He got back on his feet and heldout his hand to Niccia so she could introduce him to her friends.

"Oh," Netherlu replied. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way. I was late because a human close to the Ruins of Alph was in trouble. Badly injured. I saw him when I flew over and I had stop to take him to the hospital first." He turned to look at Frosiien. "Your daughter picked one up too I see." He tilted his head. "He looks a bit like the one I brought to the hospital... but then again, most humans look alike."

"Pastries?" Mindy replied. "Well, yes please." She turned to Xapher. "You should try some too. Let's go see what they have."
She started going to the table to see what pastries there would be. Parties weren't about healthy eating after all. Pastries as main course were totally acceptable.

Andy smiled at Frosiien. "Michael's Cyndaquil is actually a Pokémon of legends. Not by birth though." Then he turned to Dialla. "The volcano on Resto erupted years ago and ash blocked out the sun. People would have starved if Volcarona wouldn't have been a substitute sun. So we are grateful for them, and ever since they are honoured in an annual festival. You should come once; they give away free cookies in the shape of Larvesta." He turned to Frosiien again. "Which naturally is the best part of the entire festival. Free cookies."

Nobody Will Believe It [SporkoBug and Calle]

"I think they will notice," Benjamin said. "And I don't think the spread is sticky enough to keep a pill from falling."
He looked at his cup. "We can pretend to put them in our mouths, but keep them in our hand and hide them in our clothes."

He sipped from the tea and made a second sandwich. Sara still wasn't here and some other patients were just now entering for breakfast. A few patients were seated at the same table and stared in the distance. Staff had to help them with their breakfast, as they were not taking any initiative to eat or drink.

"Hey," Benjamin said, "wasn't that girl with the long, black hair very vocal yesterday? She's rather docile now..."

Paranormal Activities [SporkoBug and Calle]

"Flash drive," Mitch stated and he checked his watch. "I will return in three hours to pick it up."
After that he crossed his arms and stared at Mike and Benjamin at the couch.

They both realised what that meant and glanced at each other, looking more amused than anything else.
"I have a time and place," Benjamin said, before turning to Lydral. "I already survived one of those 'harlets', so I'm sure I'll survive this one too." He gave Mike a pat on the shoulder. "But I'll bring some back-up, just in case."
While he trusted STeph, he didn't know this other Succubus. All he knew was that she wanted to help Steph, so that made him trust her.

Both rose to their feet.
"Duncan, we'll come visit you tomorrow, after all the morning appointments," Benjamin said as Mike already joined Mitch. "Lydral, Dante, nice to meet you two." He nodded to them as Mike waved goodbye, and put his hat back on his head.

The three of them went towards the front door to leave the house.

---

"Of course," Lily said. "I will look into the books now."
She exited the room and looked down the corridor. There she noticed Gaia emerging from the elevator and going to her room.

The room was double the size of Steph's and Rose's room. As the other rooms it had the large, rectangular mirror on the opposite site, but this room was dimly lit and the walls were made to resemble a cave. The lights in the ceiling gave enough light for the people on the other side of the see-through mirror to keep track of what Gaia was doing, but otherwise keep the room cave-like.
Like Rose's room there were some iron beams in the ceiling. There was nothing else in the room.

"Darling!" Lily said as she hurred to Gaia. "Didn't anyone come up with you? How impolite! I hope you will like your room; we didn't get much information about you, but I hope it makes you feel at home."

---

Th brought Daz into the infirmary and helped him on a bed, but the doctor was unsure on how to treat him. Could this even be treated? He listened to the report of the agents and decided to start with an IV to give blood and fluids.

"Can you tell us anything about her?" the agent insisted.

"Tell me where it hurts," the doctor than said, realising he needed something to start helping this wreck of a human body.

Microfiction and Poetry contest #4

Microfiction and poetry contest #4

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What is the goal?
The Microfiction and Poetry Contest is more of a writing exercise than a contest, but there will be a voting round at the end. The aim for this writing contest doesn’t have to be a story with a beginning-middle-end like we do in the RPGC’s, although it may be and it’s a challenge in itself to tell a story in very few words.
This contest aims to be a lot broader. You are free to experiment with literary and poetic devices, explore different types of poetry or zoom in on a literary technique. Go with something you know, practice the things you feel could use some work, or try something new.
Feel like some purple prose? Make it as purple as you can. Always wanted to toy with alliterations? Now is your chance. Want to try a 6-word-story? It’s within the word count limits. Funny dialogue, sonnets, haiku’s, … The only limit is the word count. This is for short pieces in which you can practice or show off writing techniques or styles.
Another thing about this contest is equally important to know: this is more in line with free-writing than it is with planning and plotting: you only have one week to submit something. It doesn't have to be perfect, but I hope to see some unique and creative takes on the prompt, which you can read below in the contest rules.

Core rules:

• At all times follow the Fundamental Rules of the Guild and the Moderation Policy for Forum Contests.
• After reading the above this should be obvious: No plagiarism and respect copyright laws.
• Your submission must be written by you and specifically for this contest.
• This is a place for original fiction, no fanfiction allowed.
• No explicit sex, but you may fade to black.
• No excessive violence or gore.
• Don’t forget to subscribe to this thread. You will receive updates on the contest and on the number of entries, and reminders about the deadline here. I will not PM them.
• The winner of this contest will be honoured in our Hall of Fame.

Contest rules:

• The prompt for this contest is based on the Chinese New Year: Ox.
• There will be a minimum word count of 5 and a maximum of 500
• Any literary or poetry style is permitted.
• Please PM @Calle the entries and give it as title MFP#4 - (Your Title).
• Your entry can be anonymous or carry your name. Let me know what you want in the PM. If you don't specify, your entry will be posted anonymously, but you may always claim your story during or at the end of the voting round.
• The deadline is February 23th, 9:00 CET, which is 8:00 game time (both times are in a.m.)

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Entries so far: 2

RPGC: Trophy Case

Winner of RPGC #30: Celestial Lights

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God Is Great by @V a s h

Syria

Faariq wiped the sweat from his brow and waited. He watched patiently, moving slowly as one of his friends, Jaamil, managed to break away from an opposing player. Jaamil skillfully handled the ball, and pressed forward. After so many nights like this one, Faariq and Jaamil had come to know what the other was thinking before they acted.

The kid who was supposed to be watching Faariq had a mental lapse. It was a brief thing, where Faariq noted the boy's feet were misplaced, and the distance between himself and Faariq was too far. Faariq pounced upon the moment, and surged forward as fast as he could. He kicked up dust from the dirt beneath his feet, breathing heavily. He could hear the opposing team declare their desperate warnings.

But, it was too late. Jaamil knew what to do, and sent his pass away right where it needed to be.

Faariq received the pass, and watched the goalie. It was one on one, but Faariq had all the momentum. The ball screamed off of Faariq's kick, and it whizzed between two rusted trash cans. Game over. Goal.

Faariq and Jaamil met up together, catching their breath, but smiling. The rest of their friends joined in, slapping fives and laughing. All the boys wanted to play one more game, but their fathers who provided light in the night with their cars would not allow it. There was school tomorrow, after all. The boys did not disobey their fathers, as was God's will.

One by one, the boys went to their respective cars and left. Faariq said goodbye to Jaamil, and when he was the last boy on the dirt field he went over to the silhouette of his father lit up by the truck. Except, when he got closer, Faariq knew this man was not his father. It was his uncle.

"Uncle Kaabir?" Faariq said, feeling uncertain as he always did around his Uncle. Kaabir was a stern and quiet man, devoted to Allah in a manner that shrouded him in a cloak of intensity.

Kaabir blew out a stream of smoke, tossed his cigarette to the ground, and put it out.

When Kaabir said nothing at all, Faariq spoke once more. "Where is my dad?"

"Come." Kaabir said.

Faariq obeyed. He moved with the intention of going to the front seat of his uncle's pickup truck but Kaabir denied him this. There was another man in the front seat, a man that Faariq did not know well but had seen with Kaabir and his father in the past. His uncle pointed to the truck's bed. Faariq climbed up, full of questions that received no answers. Faariq wanted to say more, to ask more, but his father had instilled in him a strict obedience to elders, especially to him, and also to men like Kaabir.

The drive went longer than usual. Getting home was usually a journey of no longer than fifteen minutes, but an hour had passed. Faariq had no choice but to look up at the clear sky, listening to the truck's engine, and contemplating every star in the dark night above.

Where was his father? Why had his uncle not answered? Where were they going?

The silence invaded his thoughts, and turned his stomach over the hot coals of nervousness. Before Faariq could truly be overwhelmed by his fears, the truck stopped and his uncle got out. Kaabir told the other man to stay.

"Come." Kaabir said to Faariq for the second time that evening.

Faariq followed. His uncle had taken him past the edge of what Faariq knew as home. Here was pitch darkness, lit only by the truck's lights and the heavens. He continued behind his uncle's trail until Kaabir stopped well beyond their road. It was just Faariq, his uncle, and the desert wilderness around them. The vast scenery and darkness made Faariq feel alone, and his fear swelled once more before being quelled by the strength of Kaabir's voice.

"Do you know why I am here?"

Faariq wondered to himself. What did his uncle expect him to say? "No," he spoke hesitantly. Then, thinking of his father again, he tried to ask about him, but his question was cut off by the raising of Kaabir's hand.

"Do not lie to me, Faariq. You do know why I am here."

"I did not-"

"Silence, boy." Kaabir did not shout, but he spoke so firmly that Faariq dared not raise his voice again.

His uncle turned to face him, meeting his eyes. In that gaze was a power so solemn and grave that Faariq felt no choice other than to relent, making himself stare at his own feet.

"No." Kaabir said. "Look me in my eyes like a man."

Faariq continued to look at his feet, but then did as he was told.

"Good." Kaabir said after a moment of staring. "It is good for you to look a man in his eyes, nephew. Do not let me, or anyone else break your will, no matter how volatile a situation can get. You may be a boy now, but you will soon be a man." He paused. "Now, I know you lied to me. You know why you are here, because you felt it in your stomach for as long as we drove here. Am I correct?"

Faariq, unsure, but feeling as if he understood, nodded.

"Yes, but you do not yet know how to voice what you feel. This is the boy's way, but it is not good enough for the man's way. You felt fear, Faariq. Do you disagree?"

Faariq shook his head.

Kaabir nodded. "It was death, nephew. You felt the fear of death. It twisted your belly into knots. It put the entirety of the world in your chest. It made your heart beat heavily, and clogged your throat to the point you felt the need to scream out for release."

Faariq began to feel that same fear again. Death, cold to the touch and devoid of understanding. Death simply was, and there was no arguing with its hand. He thought of his questions. Of his father. He wanted to look away from his uncle's intense gaze, but he forced himself through his discomfort. His cheeks were hot, his heart was weighted, and his eyes felt the still unrevealed prospect of sorrow.

"Yes." Kaabir said.

It was an answer. Faariq knew what that answer was. A confirmation to his worst fear, and the realization tore away at his presentation of calm. He tried to fight against the tide of sadness, but he failed to prevent the tears from falling. Faariq attempted to choke down a sob. He failed.

Faariq expected Kaabir to remain as he always thought of him. Aloof. Distant. But, his uncle opened his arms.

"Come." Kaabir said for the third time that night, but this time he lead his nephew to his arms.

His uncle hugged him. Faariq sobbed into his uncle's chest, letting his sorrow run freely, and hotly down his cheeks. The pair stayed that way for a while. Kaabir said nothing except for the comfort and solace of a familial embrace.

When Faariq could shed no more tears, his uncle released him. Kaabir rested his hands on his nephew's shoulders. "Is it out of you?"

Faariq weakly nodded.

"I am sorry to bring you this news. But it is good you feel this way about your father. He is my brother, and I feel the same. I already miss him. It is like a hole in your heart, yes? A hole in your life?"

"Yes." Faariq said as his uncle wiped away one of his tears.

Kaabir looked away from Faariq's eyes, and aimed his sight to the skies. Faariq did the same. The world above them was alight with wonder and starlight. It was hard for Faariq to admire its beauty, and dream upon its visions like he would with his friends late into the night during the months where school was no longer in session. His pain was too fresh, and dreams felt more distant than ever.

"How," Faariq began, conjuring the strength to speak, "how did he die?"

"He died like a warrior." Kaabir said with little doubt. "He died like a man. A good man. Never let anyone else tell you otherwise. Tomorrow, tonight, it is of no matter. You may hear the papers, or the heads on the televisions speak of tragedy. They will speak of violence and terrorism. Know this, Faariq. They lie. Of our home, everyone respected your father. You have seen it for yourself, yes?"

Faariq knew this to be true. People were deferent to his father. They always spoke to him with absolute respect and admiration.

"It is the mark of a man with honor. A man of God. For only a man of God can navigate this strange world, with all its chaos, and all its cruelties. To be a man is to dedicate yourself to something beyond yourself, and your father was such a man. I want you to know that there will be many who will tear down your father's name, but they will only do so because it is the 'safe' thing to do. They do not want to create unsteady waters. They fear the waves of conflict, even when conflict is necessary."

His uncle's words gave Faariq comfort. He took solace in those words, that his father was brave, that his father was hero. A hero! He was the son of a hero! Is that not what boys dreamed of?

Kaabir pulled Faariq close, arm around his nephew, hand on his shoulder. "Look." He pointed. "Look at those stars above us. Look at that vast sky! The heavens shine! Do they not? God is good. God is great! Praise Allah, the Lord of all lords! Even now your father looks upon us. He is one of those shining stars now, a guiding light for you, for me, for all of our people, the people who choose to truly follow the path of Allah."

The passions of his uncle stirred Faariq's soul. He could see now, even on a night as dark as this that the light of the heavens were luminous. No matter how dark the shroud of this world could become, the essence of the divine still shines. His father was there, in that vast chasm of the divine unknown, where man could not tread until he stepped beyond the bounds of life. His father was there, shining, watching, a beacon for God's glory.

"God is great." Kaabir said.

Faariq wiped away the last of his tears. "God is great."