|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Dec 09, 2008 6:31 pm
(Backdated to blackout)
Fish made his way back to the apartment, exhausted by the morning's excitement, and collapsed back into bed. The rest of the apartment had since risen and left to go about their daily business, so he managed to sleep undisturbed until dinner time. It was already dark outside his window, with the first of the scene lights flickering on, when Dwayne roused him.
Fish blinked a few times. The lights were back on.
"Hi," he murmured sleepily. His cheek was throbbing where Ciro had punched him. That was only a few hours ago... it felt like a lot longer. Days ago, maybe. And then there had been... Echo? And the conversation with Persy. What had that even been about, anyway?
"Where did you go all day?" asked Dwayne.
"Around," said Fish, propping himself up on one arm. "Let's see, I took the brat with the multi-colored hair this morning because he freaked out because the lights were out and it was absolutely urgent he found his mother..."
"Did you fall or something?"
"Huh?" asked Fish.
"You've got a black eye," replied Dwayne quizzically. "How'd you get it?"
"Oh, this?" asked Fish, poking his cheek tenderly. "Someone punched me."
"The kid?"
"Nah, he couldn't hurt me," shrugged Fish, sitting up. His mouth tasted sour.
"You got in a fight?"
"Yeah," shrugged Fish. "But it's okay. It was a friend."
"A friend punched you in the face?"
"I punched him, first."
"Was this before or after you took the kid home?"
"I never took the kid home. He got scared and ran off."
They were both silent for a moment. Fish remembered the subject of his conversation with the diminutive goddess - how dangerous it was to have people outside the game who knew too much, but also how dangerous it was to lie to people.
"I don't get it," shrugged Dwayne. "You ran into a friend and you punched him?"
"He deserved it," countered Fish. "He was being extremely depressing. I punched him and told him he was ******** pathetic. Huh? What are you doing?"
Dwayne had leaned in and was examining his face.
"It looks like you have a burn," he said. "But a sunburn would be all over your face, not just on one cheek."
Fish thought about it for a moment. "He might have done that," he said finally. Ciro had a tendency to run hot.
Dwayne looked confused. "With his fist?" he asked.
"With his fist," Fish nodded, leaning back against the wall.
They were both silent for a while. Finally, Dwayne said, "Where do you go all day?" Fish looked over at him and considered it. Persy had warned him about loose information. You couldn't tell your friends or your parents about the Game. The suits couldn't know about it. And... Having someone so close to him, someone so mortal... It could be dangerous. What if someone decided to use it against him?
"I'm a superhero," he said. Dwayne snorted.
"No, really," he said to Fish.
"Where do you think I go?" asked Fish.
Dwayne shrugged. "I don't know. You're a pretty mysterious character, you know? You showed up one day, no past or anything, no family to speak of. We figured you were a runaway. But you have to come from somewhere, because you've got a gene mod."
Fish shook his head. "It's not a gene mod," he said, running a hand past the gills on his neck. He looked down. "If I tell you where I go, who I am, you can't tell anyone else. It's important."
Dwayne nodded. Fish swallowed.
"Have you heard of the Game?" he asked. Dwayne's expression suggested a passing familiarity. "Okay, so, I'm not a superhero," explained Fish, "But I work for a god, and I try to outwit people who work for other gods, and there are these big bad guys in black suits who will end the world if they can, and other gods who will end the world if they can, and the guy who punched me in the face is actually my closest ally. And," he trailed off, reaching out a hand and condensing moisture out of the air into a ball of water. "I do have powers."
The ball dissipated into the air again. It was quiet.
"Which god?" asked Dwayne, a bit shaken.
"Poseidon," answered Fish quietly. "Old greek. All their heros ******** each other."
It felt better to have told the truth, he just hoped he hadn't told too much of it.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Dec 26, 2008 12:45 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Jan 25, 2009 6:26 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Feb 14, 2009 2:04 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2009 9:59 am
Fish's dreams found him stranded at sea, clinging to the flotsam of an ancient civilization. Rain lashed against his face, and thunder rolled like waves. He remembered falling asleep, but this was not a normal dream. He was far too lucid, felt the water, felt the chill, felt the wind, felt the ache in his muscles.
Normally in this sort of situation, he would go underwater and wait out the storm, but dream logic instinctively told him that his gills would not work in this strange ocean. He had only to cling to the debris and see where it would take him, like the hero out of an ancient epic poem.
The moist place at the back of his mind where Poseidon usually dwelt was silent. That pretty much confirmed in Fish's mind that the god was up to something.
After drifting on the storm-tossed ocean for what felt like forever, he was finally able to swim ashore. The island he reached was tropical and exotic, and the weather seemed to part around it. There was a woman on the beach.
"Welcome, traveller," she said once she had approached him. "You bear the mark of our god, Poseidon." She helped Fish to his feet. "Did you come from Atlantis?"
Fish, who had no idea what she was talking about, blinked at her and then moved a hand slowly to his neck. His gills were there, so why hadn't they worked?
The woman sighed and pointed out to sea. "Atlantis," she repeated. "It used to be out on the horizon. It just sank. We watched it."
Fish had no idea what Atlantis had to do with any of this.
"Can you talk?" asked the girl, getting frustrated.
"Yes," replied Fish irritably. He tried to think. He needed to get in touch with Poseidon. "Is there a temple on this island?" he asked.
"I can take you there," she said. She motioned for Fish to follow her. Together, they followed a narrow, sandy path into town. The whole place looked like ancient greece.
"Where am I?" asked Fish.
"Somewhere off the coast of Crete," shrugged the girl. She brought him to the base of a large stone building. "I can't enter, but this is the temple," she said. "What's your name?"
"Phineas," said Fish, because it sounded more greek.
"I think you must have come from Atlantis," she said. Fish stepped into the temple, and was immediately assaulted by the overwhelming smell of the sea. Around the narrow pathway he was on were pools of briny salt water. Before him was a huge statue of Poseidon.
There were footsteps behind him. Fish turned to see a young man - a priest? - behind him.
"You have Poseidon's mark," said the young man.
"You look familiar," said Fish, because he did.
"Maybe we've met before?" asked the young man.
Fish frowned. "I've never been here before," he said. The young man nodded.
"Perhaps another lifetime, then," he conceded, and motioned to the statue. "You seek the god?" Fish nodded. "He isn't here."
"I'll wait," said Fish, and sat by the statue. The young man followed and sat next to him.
"He hasn't been here for a long time," he said.
"He sent me here," shrugged Fish. "I assume he'll come for me."
"What's your name?"
"Phineas."
"I'm Darius," said the young man. Fish looked at him. "I think I've seen you before, too."
It was on the tip of his tongue, too, how Fish knew him. But he couldn't properly grasp it. And then there was this feeling, too. This was also familiar. It was a hero thing, something it had taken him a while to get used to. But Fish's brain was a bit foggy with dream logic, even if this was a godly hallucination and not a true dream. For all he knew, this young man (who was more attractive the longer he looked at him) had been made up by Poseidon with the express purpose of seducing him.
Once he had that thought, he wondered the following things:
A) why would Poseidon do that?
and
B) Was that really such a bad thing?
Logic aside, Fish could see no real reason for Poseidon to bring him here in order to have him seduced by some half-familiar novice priest. Of course, godly logic rarely made sense until you had some retrospect on the situation. Maybe that was why it was so good - perhaps all gods had the gift of looking at things from multiple temporal perspectives. Or at least Poseidon did.
Then again, the whole situation was ******** weird. As in, in bed with it and grinding away.
The young man didn't leave. Poseidon didn't come.
"Where are we?" asked Fish.
"Somewhere off the coast of Crete," said Darius.
"The girl who brought me here said Atlantis sank recently," said Fish, and realized something odd. On the beach, he had been found by a fully-grown woman. On the course of the trip to town, she had aged backwards into a child. Perhaps Poseidon was here after all.
Darius nodded. "We watched it. There was a terrible storm. Did you come from there? You're marked like the people there are said to be marked."
"I suppose I might have," shrugged Fish. "I came from a city, and now I'm here."
He tried listening for Poseidon again, but got nothing. Darius got up to stretch. Fish watched the long lines his body formed when he extended his arms over his head, and then wondered if he should act like he wasn't interested. Darius sat back down.
"Why are you still here?" asked Fish.
Darius shrugged. "You intrigued me," he said.
"Oh," said Fish. "What do you do here?"
"I'm a novice priest," said Darius, confirming Fish's guests. "I serve the god Poseidon."
Fish nodded. "So do I."
"You don't dress in the garb of a priest."
Fish shook his head. "I'm not a priest. I'm a prophet."
Darius sat bolt upright. "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you sooner, your excellency," he said, which made Fish feel a bit awkward.
"You, er, don't need to do that," he said. "I'm just as confused about this as you probably are."
Darius did not relax. "I serve the god and those dedicated to him," he said in a way that made Fish's mind ponder possibly sexual innuendos. He was starting to suspect that Poseidon wasn't going to show up until he had dream-sex with the possibly imaginary man, anyway. Gods were kind of twisted like that. "It's part of worship."
Fish thought that maybe he'd read about this somewhere. Greeks were twisted, and all their heros ******** each other. And Poseidon was taking his own good sweet time about showing up.
That logic, combined with the fact that this was still, in some respects, a dream, and Fish was only occasionally a lucid dreamer, was a contributing factor as to why he wound up performing various sex acts with someone who was only semi-familiar and otherwise a total stranger on the floor of an ancient greek temple. (Other factors being that A) this was a dream, and B) this was ancient Greece, and C) neither was particularly inclined to making sense when it came to sex.)
Darius left after that, although Fish would have liked for him to stay so he could puzzle over where he knew him from. The pools on either side of the walkway began to bubble. As Fish watched, the grizzled figure of Poseidon manifested on the path. He was smiling.
"How did you like that?" asked the god.
Fish made a face. "I'm not really sure," he said. "I just ******** a nymphomaniac altar boy. You tell me."
"Do you feel any different?" asked Poseidon.
"A bit dirty," shrugged Fish. "I think I've got road burn on my a**."
"Powerful?" asked Poseidon appraisingly.
"I'm not sure why I should," said Fish.
"Sex is a kind of worship," explained Poseidon. "Gods draw their power from various sources, but anyone from Zeus and Odin on down can tell you the divine equivalent of an energy drink is a quick roll in the hay. Sex is an elixir of power for divine beings. And you, Phineas, need all the power you can get."
"I don't really understand how making me receive an imaginary blow job helps anything," quipped Fish.
Poseidon laughed. "This isn't imaginary," he said. "You're in my realms."
"It felt like a dream."
"I played with time a bit."
"So you controlled me," said Fish.
"No, I controlled your perceptions. It's an entirely different thing. Phineas, in order to continue to gain power, you need followers and worship. We need them. You and I, to ensure our continued existence."
"So you're suggesting I go have sex with random people," deadpanned Fish.
"No," corrected Poseidon. "There are other ways to gain followers. Money, favors, gifts, belief - all will work. I simply needed to give you a large boost of power very quickly this evening."
"The hell is that supposed to mean?" asked Fish.
"You'll see," said Poseidon. The world around them warped. Fish was cast back into the ocean. He grabbed hold of a piece of flotsam and set a course for the bright lands of daybreak and wakefulness.
15.48 words
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2009 11:16 am
"The hell happened to you?" asked Dwayne.
"Huh?" asked Fish sleepily. He was having no trouble remembering his dream, but he was trying to put parts of it out of mind. He was sore - apparently god-realm sex could still have aftereffects on your human-realm body. He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, rubbing his neck as he went. He got to his feet and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall in the process. "Oh," he said, and understood why Poseidon had needed him to power up. "Growth spurt," he answered, rubbing his eyes. "It happens."
"Is this a god thing?" asked Dwayne. He stuck his toothbrush back in his mouth and chewed on it.
"Yeah," nodded Fish.
"Has it happened before?" asked Dwayne. Fish looked over at him and realized why Darius had looked familiar, but he decided not to say anything about his dream.
"Yeah," he said. "About a year and a half ago."
"How old are you?" asked Dwayne. Fish inspected his appearance in the mirror.
"I'd hazard to guess about nineteen," he said. "Damn it, he ******** up my hair." Not only was Fish's hair way longer than it had ever been in his life, it had green streaks in it.
"No, really," said Dwayne.
Fish shrugged. "I haven't been counting. Time moves funny when you've got gods ******** around with your growth hormones. I skipped four months once. Like, totally missed them."
Dwayne creased his brow and swallowed the foam from his toothpaste, which was okay to do with some kinds but not others. The vegan stuff was okay. "Weird as ********," he said. Fish nodded in agreement. "But I've heard weirder. And I'll cut your hair. It looks dumb as ********>
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 2:37 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 2:38 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Mar 10, 2009 7:57 pm
So, Rough Night?
"I wrestled a bear."
"I had sex with a man."
"Dude, that... kind of sucks."
"Tell me about it. I have roadburn on my a**."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 7:56 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:00 pm
The Clubhouse
Fish, Vale, Ciro, Keeya.
"Are you always this much of a homosexual stereotype, or are you just feeling threatened?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:01 pm
Mercury Rising
It's better to burn up than to fade out.
From now on, nothing will ever be the same.
Ciro, I'm so sorry.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Apr 10, 2009 8:13 pm
Man on the Run
Writ's a drunk Indian, Fish pukes for non-alcohol-related reasons. On the whole, this kind of sucks.
We're right back where we started.
We know everything and we know nothing.
I never wanted to kill anybody.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 24, 2009 7:38 pm
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun May 24, 2009 7:46 pm
Howdy, Partner
Zyanya treated me like a person.
She's a player. I don't want to have to hurt someone like her.
I never did find Brokeback street.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
