Magical Mineral Concerns

I awoke at dawn, and staggered out into the kitchen, only to find my apprentice, having stayed up all night, staring at a sheet of scrolls.

"That a scroll of pancake creation?"

"36 and a half years."

"Bit long for pancakes, surely?"

He rose to his feet, holding out calculations accusingly at me.

"Gemstones that make up the ingredients in everyone's spells are destroyed. Even with immediate mass Gem-Make casting starting immediately, we'll probably run out in 36.5 years."

I did the sums.

"Well I'll be dead, and you'll know to stockpile."

He didn't agree, thus his conversion to diamond.

Eight Months

As far as romantic relationships go, eight months is nothing to write home about, I guess. But it was everything to me.

And even now, years later, it's hard for me to try and seperate it out, to try and distinguish the good from the bad, the positive from the negative, picking the mistakes from the things done right.

Because that's what you're supposed to do, right? Learn from it? Be a better person for having gone through it?

Otherwise, what do you have? Eight months of your life that you've wasted.

And that you wouldn't give up for anything.

Pain And Purpose

I walked over to him, a few steps away from the fire, where most of the squad was either engaged in or cheering on a 'friendly' fight. I sat down next to him and offered a swig of whisky. As he took it, I reached out.

"You wanna come join the rest of us?"

He swallowed the booze and handed back the bottle.

"No pain without purpose, no purpose without pain."

I considered this.

"The purpose of this is to help avoid future pain, though."

He winced, clearly pained by my extension of the metaphor. But he walked over, eventually.

Eternal Reward

After a long life spent serving the Lord and spreading the Good Word to those who had not heard it, he passed away, tragically, to a crude axe to the skull.

He had expected light, love, and his eternal reward. Instead, he found himself in a grey nothingness, with a figure standing before him, similar to the woman who had recently swung an axe at him as he informed her of her sin.

"This can't be... Hell, surely! I did so much."

"No, this is your brain shutting down, idiot."

He would have felt disappointment, but he was quickly gone.

Humanity's Ego

The first Human to break lightspeed stood on the observation deck of the Galactic Government Central Station, awaiting to be called.

When the Liaison Officer approached, they did not respond, transfixed as below them, hundreds of races intermingled peacefully.

"Inspiring?"

The Human shook their head.

"I'm worried, my people, we nearly tore ourselves apart multiple times over, but there was always this overriding sense of importance, of specialness. This will be a challenge."

The Liaison Officer laughed.

"Every one of those races thought they were special, unique. Humanity will be fine."

But Humanity was special, just in a negative sense...

In Defense Of The Irish Whip

Invented by Danno O'Mahoney in the 30's, the Irish Whip began as some more akin to a judo throw, it was designed to throw you at the ground. Running out from it is the counter to this, since trying to stop that sort of forward momentum is hard.

Likewise hitting the ropes and running back is similar, a wrestling ring bounces, and running towards your opponent is safer than trying to stop suddenly with your back to them.

Perfectly logical. But then again, anyone tries to Irish Whip me, I just don't run because I'm not stupid, and I'm massive.

Dead Man's Curve

It could have been avoided.

Everyone knew that corner was dangerous, it had the nickname of Dead Man's Curve after all.

It could have been avoided.

The first time a wagon almost went off, they put up a wooden barricade, for all the good it would do.

It could have been avoided.

Successful governments and departments updated the supports after every near miss.

It could have been avoided.

It had the best ones available, strong steel and heavy concrete.

It could have been avoided.

But someone abused and driven to suicide and driving straight off?

It could have been avoided.

Adventurers Needed To Get Wife Back

"Excuse me fine worker, did you place this scroll on the town noticeboard?"

I threw the shovelfull of ox shit into the wheelbarrow and then turned around. The leader of them looked exactly how I expected them to, given how they introduced themselves. I spat out some chewing leaf.

"I reckon I put that up on the gallows, yeah. You able to get her?"

"Of course you fine fellow. We are the Squad of-"

"Don't care. Just get her back, so I can chain her up this time."

He laughed until he noticed I wasn't laughing. But they got her.

Cyberbiohackers

After a few days in, my curiosity got the better of me. As we bombarded that day's target's internal neural network with DoS attacks, I asked him.

"Hey, Thomas, how can you still believe in God when-"

The rest of the group all groaned. Thomas remained calm until they stopped.

"The first major steps in biohacking were, as you may or may not know, were altering DNA strands to fool and attack DNA sequencing machines."

"Ok, and..."

"The most powerful and useful hacking subroutines discovered also turned veins silver. What else is that but proof of God?"

"Coincidence?"

He snorted.

Regime Change

The new Leader of the Free World had only just finished redecorating their office when the riots kicked off in the region of the world that the Free World has been fighting in for many years.

They'd gotten elected, in part, on a platform of moving to end these wars and failed regime changes. So when they were told that, in fact, the track record for successful regime change was actually quite high, that people only noticed their involvement in failures, they politely but firmly asked for proof of this.

First one in fifty years to see through that lie.

Final Failsafe

It was the final failsafe, one that promised technical survival but a low chance of ever waking up. The passenger (it was only viable for one being) would go into stasis and the ship would go into deep sleep and drift. Hopefully towards a star, so when enough solar energy fed into the ship it could wake up and try for a rescue.

But otherwise, if there was a collision or a wake from a passing celestial body, well, one might never be awoken.

A terrible fate, considering that for most beings, stasis kept you alive, but awake, unmoving, still...

Grandpa's Trap

The trap was old, rusted, stiff, even before I was given it. Grandpa said I needed to know how to provide for myself, and the ranch backed onto woodland. So we walked out together, and he taught me how to oil the trap, plant it, how to secure it to a log just heavy enough for an animal to drag and tire themselves out, assuming their leg didn't break between the jaws.

Every day I come out here and check on the trap. For him, in his memory, and all he did.

But I never set it. That's for me.

Murdered Portrait

On the morning of the fifth day, after the ninth death, I found her in the dining room, staring at the portrait. A rather bored looking 18th century guy stared back at her.

"You ok? I know you and the Professor were close, but the storm should be-"

"This is different."

I chose my next words carefully.

"I know you're stressed but you're not suggesting magic here?"

"What? No, of course not, it's hanging slightly differently."

As she said this, she pulled it down, revealing a blank wall.

Luckily she then smashed the frame and we found the poison supply.

Left Over

I stared at the old-fashioned oil lamp in my hands as the, well, Genie, I guess, laid out the rules.

"Ok, so no bringing people back to life and no falling in love, fine, but-"

The Genie rolled its eyes.

"They always argue murder. Thousands of years and nothing has changed."

"But unwilling forced transportation is fine, yes?"

"Yes, Master."

I pulled out my phone, and after I showed the current state of the world, they agreed to transport a couple of billion people who voted for certain political parties to the moon, where they were alive. For a bit.

Calling Shotgun

She called Shotgun in a playful manner, so she got to sit in the front passenger seat.

She called Shotgun again, in a less playful manner, so she got handed the pump action shotgun before we headed out into the hotzone.

She called out Shotgun quickly and with her finger pointed at the ruins to the left of the buggy when the front tyre was taken out.

She called out Shotgun in a triumphant manner when she shot the raider about to finish me off.

She called out Shotgun weakly, making sure I took it when I left her behind.

Waiting Room

The Tomb of Opex-Legida is famous for being one of the first attempts by the Torelok to temporally lock their deceased rulers. It doesn't work as intended, as instead of locking, it loops, every 46 hours the contents of the tomb are replenished, and there is a 46 second window to get into through the antechsmber. Fail, and you get stuck until the next opening, although for you and anyone else in status with you, it feels like 46 years.

So yeah, bit of a wait, but we'll get through..I got the Holy Cards last time, who's up for Poker?

The Stenographer Too

Prosecution: Your witness.

Defense: Thank you.

Can you please repeat your name and occupation, for the record?

Witness: Sure, ok. My name is and I'm a janitor at the building.

Defense: Hmm. Interesting. At no point there did you say that you were a doctor, of any sort. Are you a doctor, perchance?

Witness: Uh, no. I'm a janitor.

Defense: Ah, as you said. Tell me then, what on earth makes you qualified to comment on the mental wellbeing of my client?

Witness: Him trying to shoot me. That's not sane.

Defense: Why?

Witness: Because I'm a robot?

Two Friends Being Friendly

The morning after the party they woke up at roughly the same time, on opposite ends of the bed. He was first to speak, asking what time it was, where they were, and why they both were naked, in increasing confusion.

Together, with the help of a hickey on his neck, two missing joints from her purse, and a torn condom wrapper, it was determined they must have had sex.

She then suggested that they might as well do it again, so they could at least remember it.

She suggested this since she did remember the previous night's actions fully.

Printed Word Of God

The machine whirred to life and began to slowly slide back and forth across the platform, depositing, with computerised exactness, the pale white goo.

Just thin lines at first, but then as more of it hardened in the cool air of the printing room, thicker slices of goo were placed, small struts of the same goo providing support. (It was such a fiddly job to remove those afterwards, but the laser machine helped.)

After a dozen minutes, the printing was completed, and the lights turned orange, hardening and fixing the body into shape, ready for transport and transference of soul.

Quick As Lightning

I shook the last of the heavy rain off my coat and approached the large vault door. The moneyman had his phone up, and he gestured to the panel without looking at me.

"When the power goes out, you need to flip the panel and stick in the override chip in the second before the backup kicks in."

His hand went to his phone and the power went out. I managed the action, just.

"You could have given me more warning!"

"Yeah, that was the storm. But as compensation, I have some C4 you can have, by the substation outside."

Eternal Life

I was an overnight cleaner at the EternSoul building. Pay wasn't great, but they did have a few decent perks and smart ideas, like how my car parking spot was also the CEOs. Never same place and all that.

That's how I saw the car in the CFO spot, lights still on. I thought nothing of it, even though it was there before and after work.

After the third day, I was really confused, and sent an email and photo in my phone.

I was fired almost immediately, by email. In anger I keyed the car.

Until it went 'ow'.

Manflu

The phone rang off twice before I finally answered it.

"What?"

"Hey dude, just checking-"

"I'm sick. Go away."

"Huh? Oh, what-"

"Manflu."

There was a long pause, long enough I was about to hang up when he spoke again.

"So you know you're overreacting?"

"No, I know exactly how sick I am and am reacting accordingly."

"But Manflu is a term predicated on overreacting to otherwise not serious illness."

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

There was another pause, then we both searched online. The fact he found a definition supporting him first just proved how sick I was.

Innocent Sinner

She had been judged a threat to the realm. So they wrapped her in spells, and bound her to the realm of sin.

They used every powerful bounding spell and ritual they had, knowing that she would, given a lack of anything else to do, break them down eventually.

The last ritual was the failsafe, as no amount of power could break it, only the actions of an innocent. And what innocent could ever end up in the realm of sin?

A few hundred years later, an overzealous pope declared ignorance of The Gods was no excuse for non-worship, sadly.

Hotfix

The message had reached meme status on the Extranet. It was a simple post asking if anyone had a Jillian Skinner 2067 MVP holofigurine for sale. But due to a mistake in the coding the Company had been working on, it had turned up in everyone's feed, undeletable. The Company promised a fix, but then faced a backlash and so even when they fixed the coding, they left the message in place.

Of course, everyone assumed that the original poster had gotten it wrong, since Jillian Skinner wasn't the 2067 MVP.

Instead, the Company letting their inter-universe code slip early.

She Was A Blind Date

She wore a bra, but no panties.
She wore a garter belt, but no stockings.
She wore a dress, a jacket, gloves, but no shoes.
She carried a phone, but no purse.
She carried a card, but no cash.
She carried the menus, the conversation, the bill, but no protection.
She ordered a starter, but no dessert.
She ordered for me, but without asking.
She ordered to go, after a few minutes.

She decided that her place was closer.
She decided that I approved.

She kissed me hello, kissed me in the hallway, kissed me in bed, but not goodbye.

Evil's Palm

She had her little stall on the walkway over the bay. The "Palms Read $5" sign was deliberately made to look like every other cold reading charlatan's sign.

It was too risky to be upfront about her powers, people would want to abuse them. So instead she sat on the walkway that famously everyone walked one day, and whenever possible, would nudge someone to where they should be going.

Until she took his palm into hers.

She took several long seconds, trying to work out how to warn people, until she glanced up and saw he was reading her too.

Lures With Net

The Injun girl was sitting crosslegged on the boulder in the middle of my fields, oxen milling about her. A man, I'd just fired a couple warning shots at, but a girl, that was different.

As i approached, I saw her eyes were closed, and the wounds on her arms and legs. When I went to tell her to move on, she spoke.

"Had I come to your door, you would have ignored me. So instead I pose as an oddity. So you are here, where you need to be."

I readied my rifle, as the O'Malley boys rode in.

Handed Down

After I finished my mission, I was chronojumped back to HQ, expecting a celebratory holoprogram and three weeks looped.

Instead my superior sat, looking disappointed, as they cycled through something on their personal display.

"You were instructed to bring Humanity forward while remaining unknown and unnoticed. Yet see here."

They spun the display, and I saw several historical records of gods, carved into rock.

I explained, carefully, that they weren't me or my agents, they were a coincidence, or possibly another department. I explained my actions.

When my superior looked up 'The Enlightenment' they calmed down.

No looped bonus though.