Holding Your Peace

 As a professional Wedding March performer, I've been involved in thousands of weddings in my life. Most go off without a hitch, or at least manageable hitches. Trust me, no-one remembers that some of the roses were a little off color.

But in my life, I've seen exactly five weddings stopped mid-ceremony.

Two were straight out of the movies, someone objected, declared their love. One of them actually ran off with the bride, the other failed.

Two more stopped because one of the people involved died before the vows.

The fifth?

Well, I used to have a flute playing fiancé.

Off Color

 The test subject was thrown far across space, ending up on the planet of another race.

They cared for their new arrival and eventually translated the new being's language.

When the guest was dying, they told their new home to create a statue of them, their skin colored as them. And, if any of their race, upon seeing the statue, referred to their likeness by a specfic term, to destroy them.

Generations later, a exploration group landed and was led to the statue.

Much unpleasantness could have been avoided if the guest had considered that racist terminology changed over time.

Rang Off

 The phone rang for several moments before it was picked up.

"What do you want?"

The voice on the line paused for a moment.

"Not the attitude I expected from someone in your position."

The one in their position snorted.

"I don't think I give a fuck what you expected."

"Clearly. So, are you prepared to-"

The one in their position hung up.

The phone rang again, and again, and again. The fourth time, it was picked up again.

"Why are you being so difficult?"

The one in their position laughed.

"Because you're bluffing, you don't-"

The phone blew up.

Deal An Unidle Hand

 The demoness appeared in a burst of flame, and then sighed a long, low sigh wheh she saw who it was.

"Gary. Let me guess, if I reverse your life to birth, you will commit a thousand Dante Units worth of evil on the planet in exchange, yes?"

The old man nodded. The demoness shook her head.

"It always takes you your entire life to get this done, what are you gaining here by this stupid loop?"

"I ain't dead yet, hey? Besides, I'm cutting it down by a few days each time!"

"Fine, sign here for the 753rd time."

Taken From Isolation

The island tribe had been isolated from the rest of the world for centuries. This was achieved by them attacking and killing anyone who landed on the island.

But when the volcano the island was the top of edged closer to erupting, the decision was made to risk it.

An expert on the language they were known to speak centuries ago was chosen to land and to explain what was about to happen.

He found everyone dead.

The diary of their soothsayer said it was specifically the fault of the reading outsider, here to steal them away from their home. 

The Champion Of Freedom

 The Destroyer Of Injustice took another swig of his wine. Then The Saviour Of The Downtrodden turned to the smaller man.

"So I'm in charge now that I offed that old guy, yeah?"

The adviser sucked air through his teeth.

"Well your actions in killing the previous King, oh Sworded One, have created a power vacuum, and in that scenario there is room for someone to slide in and broker peace between the remaining power bases, yes."

"That sounds fucking boring" said The Hero Of Heroes.

"Indeed, hence why you need to be a martyr."

The poisoned wine kicked in.

The Queen's Power

 Her title changed whenever she felt like it, but 'Queen' featured often enough that I defaulted to calling her that most of the time. She didn't notice, as a rule.

She was far too busy making decrees, demanding changes, and altering her lands on her whims to bother caring if I had the exact terminology down.

It tended to be when I said no that she'd focus on my getting it right. On those occasions, then I made sure to call her by the wrong term.

That always got her mad at me, distracting her from realising she was powerless.

Hand Wrap

 She wrapped her hand in a cloth bandage.

There had been more dramatic hand wrappings in history, someone won an award once for doing one in a movie.

There had been more impactful hand wrappings in history, at least one war had started by a ruler wrapping their hand in ceremonial trappings.

And it wasn't the neatest, or the most healing, or the prettiest, there was no description you could apply that would win it.

Unless you asking about importance to me. Because the woman of my dreams, injured because of me, well that was a wrap on my dreams.

The City Of Oolum

 The city of Oolum was a shining star of the ancient world, a major trading city that straddled half a dozen trading routes, as well as having amazing architecture and some of the finest art pieces of the ancient world.

You look at any ancient text, they'll mention the city of Oolum as being where the wise people were, or where the funds came from, whatever the positive thing, chances are its the city of Oolum that was responsible.

And yet, the city has been lost, ever since our capital of Lumoo was founded, we've been unable to locate it.

Incomprehensible

 Your mind cannot comprehend the terrors beyond the barriers of the universe.

That's not code for 'different is automatically bad' like some of your authors claimed. I mean that it is physically impossible for you to comprehend what originated outside your universe. Every atom of your being vibrates at the same rate as every other atom of your universe. Even the smallest change to this vibration makes the subject impossible to discern.

But at least they can't see you, right?

Of course, when they're rampaging through a universe, they tend to just open their mouths and move forward.

Sleep well!

Adjustments

 I had planned the night out over several weeks of effort, the hotel room, the dinner, the art gallery, the walk, the pause, the kneel, the proposal. I could even adjust on the fly, if I had to, I had backups.

But instead, she saw an inner city cinema had an old film I'd never heard of, and she insisted on seeing it. So I adjusted.

And when we got there, she met an old friend, she'd called him, and we sat together, until they headed to the bathroom together.

I pushed the ring further into my pocket and adjusted.

The Moment Of Reckoning

Magic is powerful, but not all powerful. It's not possible to rewrite the rules of the universe permanently, but you can bend them for a short while. Short by the standards of universe, that is.

Every magic user who quests in this world knows there's a moment of reckoning coming. The moment before their death when every injury, illness, and ailment they've delayed comes back.

Most magic users think this is a good deal, as one moment of pain in exchange for decades without it sounds good.

But those decades pass quickly, and this moment just keeps going and going.

Coded Messages

The ship had been drifting through the cold recesses of space for goodness knows how long. I'd boarded and explored the ship, and found a bunch of recordings from the owner and captain.

I watched them, and tried to put them in order, but it made no sense, the dates at the start of each recording kept jumping around, his beard growing, shrinking, as did the encroaching damage, and his desperation, it made no sense.

Then I put them in order, and took the dates as a code.

I translated it, then needed to make a whole bunch of recordings. 

Happened Again

I walked in, and saw the neat bookcases and ordered desk.

"Oh, sorry, wrong room."

I walked out, regained my bearings, then came in slowly, squeezing a fist to stop myself screaming at her smiling, proud face.

"What did you think you've done?"

Her smile became more confused.

"Tidied up, obviously!"

I took a breath.

"I told you, very clearly, that I had a system. That everything was fine where it was. Why didn't you listen?"

"But... everything's neat now!"

I pointed at the door.

I then loaded up my blog's backend, and screamed as it had happened there too. 

9,999 Bottles On The Wall

The next quester entered the chamber, and seemed surprised to see me. They spoke, and I eventually my translation headband worked out what they were speaking and translated me.

"Greetings! One of the bottles in this room contains the elixir of eternal life. The rest, death. You must drink one."

They looked around the room, every surface covered with bottles of every type.

"The one on your belt."

I held it out to them.

"Clever!"

They drank it.

"Wrong, but clever. But then again, everyone picks that one."

Once they'd dissolved, I drank from the bottle hidden in the doorframe.

Fired

"Elevation 17 degrees, angle 46 degrees!"

I quickly cycled the wheels around with my arms, moving the cannon around, while my legs moved the other paddles to lower the cannon quickly. Once it was at the designated angle and elevation, I pulled the firing lever.

I awaited the loud booming noise of the cannon firing.

Nothing happened.

I tried pulling the lever a few more times, but there was a lack of boom.

"Cannon malfunction!"

"Negative, cannon is at perfect angle for correct purpose!"

I was confused, before I realised the voice giving orders wasn't the radio, but the saboteur.

Dr. Kangles And Professor Interspion

The two of them had been thrown out of almost every scientific group in the world, given their slightly different but basically similar theories about time travel, and they were forced to share resources while working independently.

Across the years, they had an agreement that once one of them had cracked it, the first trip had to be to go back and tell the other to stop bothering at the point the other was on the right track.

Dr. Kangles instead made his first trip to kill baby Professor Interspion.

Where he was killed by troops of World Emperor Interspion.

On The Trail

I looked at the file.

"I know him, and I know how he thinks, how he acts. He's not going to waste his time, everything he did in the six months he was holed up here, it will be important to find out where he went next.

So, he was studying French, scuba diving, and the SS President Coolidge. So clearly, he's going to Vanuatu."

"But doesn't he know you're after him, so wouldn't he throw you off the trail?"

He stared at me.

"Do you want a free trip to Vanuatu or not?"

It was lovely, to be fair.

Prophecy Problems

There were two problems with the prophecy. One was that for all its detail about the name, appearance, and skills of the one destined to overthrow the tyrannical King Ciker and usher in a new government, it lacked a timeframe or date.

The second problem was that everyone knew of the prophecy, and thus that name was given to every child that vaguely fit the description, most of whom grew up to die storming the castle.

The fact the prophecy was completely untrue wasn't a problem as much as it was the point, that's why King Ciker had it made.

Legacy Layout

Log in.

"Hi! We've moved your account over to the new layout!"

Bring down options menu, click on revert.

"Taking you back to the legacy layout, but we're transitioning accounts over!"

Do my business. Log off.

Log in.

"Hi! We've moved your account over to the new layout!"

Options, revert.

"Are you sure?"

Yes.

"Taking you back to legacy layout!"

Do business. Log off.

Log in.

"Hello!"

Options. Stare. Help.

"What's the problem?"

Type in legacy layout.

"No results found!"

Close account.

"Can we ask why?"

Type in legacy layout.

Data shows legacy layout so bad still driving people away.

Unhuman Nature

The Golem sat, passive in a way only a being that was technically a thing could be.

The Priest railed and shouted at me, supposedly, but really, I knew, he was yelling for the benefit of those waiting outside.

His issues with the Golem were threefold.

Its 'immorality' I easily overruled, given the Priest's god was the origin of the magic.

Its 'being against nature', that was easy one, given we were in an unnatural building.

Its 'dangerous nature', I laughed off. To prove my point, I ordered it to kill the Priest.

I didn't know it'd actually do it.

The Bug Is The Feature

The mission was important, but it needed plausible deniability. If the target got even a whiff of the movement to oust him by any means necessary, he could retaliate against those planning to remove him, since they were under him in the power structure.

So there were middlemen and a lack of communication between the two ends of the plan.

Thus, it's no surprise that the cheaply hired bagmen managed to put the bugs in the neighbouring apartment from the target.

What is a surprise is that the target's choice of affair was so close to home, literally and figuratively.

Body Weight Betrayal

The only thing stopping me from falling a few dozen storeys was a thin sheet of plastic.

I went to roll over, but the plastic made a sound that I didn't like, given I was still under the effects of gravity.

So instead I lifted a leg, slowly, then reached out with it and tried to hook the floor where the plastic was held.

My pant leg hooked on, but at the expense of the plastic, which began to tear under my weight. But my pants would hold me up, right?

But my recent weight loss meant they were loose...

The Onboard Computer's Talking

The star went nova fifteen minutes ago. And the resulting energy wave will hit us in five minutes.

We do not have enough time to use thrusters to get out of danger, although I have begun moving anyway.

Attempting a jump to fifthspace with this amount of energy in the surrounding area will ruin fifthspace travel in the area for centuries.

Yes, we would be blamed, despite being dead.

Available options are self-destruct, send a final message, panic. Which would you like to do?

I don't recognise that as an option, Captain.

I presume this declaration of love is panic?

Growing Investment

I'd just started my shift, when the traveller leant on the fence, looking between me and the field.

"Having a break?" The traveller asked, using the entirely wrong stress points. But I withheld a laugh.

"No, just started."

"Doing what?"

"Watching."

"Watching... what?"

"The field here, I supervise its growing."

"Your job is to watch grass grow?"

"You sound confused, Traveller."

"It's just that the saying... Is this special grass?"

"As special as any other."

"This a religious thing?"

"I'm an atheist."

"Then why the hell do you watch grass grow?"

"Because it's my job, traveller."

I love being self-employed.

The Rules Of Life

The rules of life were fixed. Life was cold, wet, and unhappy. Then someone worked out how to break the rules with fire.

The rules of life were fixed. Life was violent, brutal, and short. Then someone worked out how to break the rules with bows.

The rules were fixed, then came iron. Navigation. Soap. Contraception.

Every time the rules of life seemed fixed, someone discovered something that broke them.

And then someone discovered magic, and that seemed to break the rules permanently.

But magic had the most rules of all.

Until someone worked out how to break those too.

When The Rains Came

When the rains came, he told me. When the rains came, all would be solved, all would be well.

When the rains came, it became a state of mind, one that flowed through our whole lives. When the rains came, that was the key, so today wouldn't matter.

When the rains came, that day built up power, as it needed to fix so much, to make up for so much neglect. When the rains came.

When the rains came, it was much later than he thought, but they still came.

But when the rains came, they washed away everything.

Everything.

Customs

The paperwork was fully completed out, but the guard was still asking questions.

"And how long will you be in the country, again?"

"As I said, a month."

"And you'll be staying with this John Lindsburg?"

"Lindson, not Lindsburg."

"Ah yes, right. And the purpose of your visit?"

"Tourism, and... Nothing else."

The guard seized upon this.

"And, huh? You doing something else while you're here? You want to come clean now?"

He sighed.

"John Lindson is my gay lover."

The guard coughed, and waved the man through, satisfied with that explanation, and thus not bothering to check his bag.

Shell

The Doctor stared through the clear plastic shell around the gel tank, and the body inside.

All the sensor readings said they were in prime health, there was nothing wrong with them, physically, that he could find.

And yet they refused to wake up.

He was getting frustrated, he'd checked every medical database and every network, but there was nothing to be found to explain their lack of life.

Eventually, he found a reference to an old text, that had an unorthodox solution. But he was desperate.

And it worked, lightning did indeed bring his stitched together monster to life.