by G. Deyke
*I* love and miss him
and it sucks that he's dead
WolfSister said:
hmmmm
Lady of the Æsir said:
srsly though it shouldn't even have happened
I mean like
p sure loki was just being a dick
like usual
basically anytime anything goes wrong it's just loki being a dick
WolfSister said:
hey now
thats my dad
Lady of the Æsir said:
sorry
anyway
can I have baldr back pls, he's p much my fav son
and I went to all that trouble to make him not die
soooo I would really appreciate it if you'd help me out
you know
queen to queen
sort of thing
WolfSister said:
hmmmmm
look the thing is
frigg
you know how everyone loves your son?
Lady of the Æsir said:
yeah
WolfSister said:
well see the thing is
I like him too
he seriously brightens up my hall
niflheim is a great place to be suddenly now that hes here
Ive had like this huge influx of tourists
people dying of old age left and right just to hang out with him
people getting sick etc
Ive had actual suicides just so they could be with this dude
its pretty great
Lady of the Æsir said:
look I know it's a lot to ask
but he's my actual son
and I feel kind of responsible for him
since he is my literal son
and I love him more than you do
see again: he is my son
furthermore
p sure that more ppl want him alive than dead
like
literally everyone loves him
p sure there are more ppl alive than in niflheim
or like even dead ppl
you've got one world of ppl who want baldr to stay there is what I'm saying
and I've got EIGHT worlds of ppl who want him back
do the math bitch
and then when you're done calculating
hand him over
WolfSister said:
hmmmmm
you sure that LITERALLY everyone wants him back
Lady of the Æsir said:
p sure yeah
he's the most loveable dude anyone's ever seen
why
WolfSister said:
okay Ill make you a deal
just for you
special favor from one queen to another
also youre like my blood aunt so that counts for something too
even if your shitty husband did banish me here
anyway yeah
just put something on twitter or facebook or whatever like
I dont know
'like this if you want baldr to live' or something
and if everyone likes it you can have him back
promise
Lady of the Æsir said:
fuck yes
you are the best blood niece ever
thank you so much
everyone will like it, you'll see
I'll have him back in no time
WolfSister said:
haha yeah
well see
Lady of the Æsir has signed out.
-
Lady of the Æsir @_frigg_yes
fav this tweet to save baldr's life!!! PLS RT
-
Lady of the Æsir said:
loki
hey
loki
asshole
dickwad
loooki
loki why haven't you faved that tweet yet
come on loki
you're like the only person in the world who hasn't
in like ALL the worlds
I mean except niflheim I guess but that doesn't matter
loki are you there
asshat
God of a Thousand Masks said:
What are you talking about?
I'm not Loki.
My name is Thökk.
Who's this Loki person you keep talking about?
Lady of the Æsir said:
oh my fuck
are you dressing in drag and masturbating again
you fucking are aren't you
holy shit loki
all I wanted was ONE FUCKING FAV on ONE TWEET
TO GET MY SON BACK
FROM THE DEAD
God of a Thousand Masks said:
Not my son, not my problem.
Lady of the Æsir said:
you're a dick loki
Lady of the Æsir has signed out.
Short Fuse
(While there was no challenge for this day, I did respond to one given to me by one OnLinedPaper: the entirety of your story must take place within five seconds.)
The grenade falls at his feet with a hiss, and a violent shock shoots through his limbs as he belays his instinctive reaction to leap for cover. The child is behind him. His body will be her only shield from the blast: he can't allow himself to move.
He doesn't have time to say goodbye.
The True Meaning of Affection
Challenge #5: write a response to another FFMer's story from day 7, featuring a quote and using the challenge criteria from yet another FFMer's day 7 story, and including at least one character from each.
(This is a response to “Bodice Ripper” by Joe Wright. The quote (the first clause) is from “Dirty Pirate” by Vocable, as are the criteria: write a 101-word bodice ripper featuring a laser, a retired pirate, and a disused sewer.)
The retired pirate stood in his element: a disused sewer encrusted with sick. His fashionably stained shirt was torn open at the throat, revealing a finely chiseled chest which glistened under a thin layer of muck.
He wasn't sure why the lovely ladies always ran from him. He had tried dramatic poses, laser chest hair removal, revealing clothing: everything. Instead of affection, all he seemed to garner was vomit.
Unbeknownst to him, a band of velociraptors were watching from the darkness, feathery breasts heaving appreciatively as they stalked nearer. All too soon he would experience true affection: increasingly consensual raptor rape.
Butterfly
When she's dancing, she forgets the things that weigh her down. Nothing matters except the movement of the moment: step step step jump step...
Her hair floats around her like gossamer, bright as the wings of a butterfly against the dark of her skin. Like a butterfly, she is light and free and beautiful, and if only she were to leap a little higher she is sure that she would fly.
When the darkness clears she is lying on the floor. She can't remember falling.
Expulsion
In the darkness below the cellar stair, she buried the things she could not bear to carry with her: pain and fear and sadness, memories, loneliness, forgiveness – and all that she needed to feel joy.
She tried to dig her heart up again, when she realized that there was nothing left of her but stone. But by then it had taken root there in the darkness, and she could no longer wrench it free.
They Long to be Heard
Challenge #6: write a story featuring a character who is an activist; a betrayal; an insurmountable obstacle; and a famous political quote.
(I chose “The only truth is reality,” originally said by President Juan Domingo Perón.)
“Why should we fear death?” cried the old man, spittle flying furiously from his lips, eyes blazing with madness. “Why should we allow it to control us?”
Victor, standing in the crowd, clenched his hands and fixed his gaze on the ground. The world was starting to go white around the edges, but he couldn't shut out the old man's raving: “Death is a frontier like any other �
� a frontier yearning to be conquered! There are ghosts among us, my friends. They long to be heard! They long to feel the pleasures of the flesh again... to taste the breath of life... and they long to be heard!”
“They long to be heard!” the crowd called back in a staggered chorus.
“Can we go?” Victor muttered to his companion. She shook her head, silently, focused on the old man's speech; her eyes were bright and shining, which nauseated him. He turned his eyes back to the ground.
“They can come back to us!” the old man went on. “They need our help – but we have life and blood and power, and we will tear down that wall! We will set them free! And we will free ourselves from grief, from loneliness, from that accursed fear of the grave! We are the living, and we will never die again!”
“We are free!” the crowd called back.
Victor could hear his companion's voice among them. He shut his eyes and waited for it to be over.
-
“You were listening to him,” he said flatly as he picked through his noodles with a fork.
“And you weren't, I notice.”
“I was.” He had been; he couldn't help it, despite his best efforts. “It's bullshit.”
She raised an eyebrow. “It's the truth.”
“The only truth is reality.” Victor took a gulp of cold water and pushed his plate aside. “Look, I've tried this shit before. The drugs, the blood rituals, everything. It doesn't work.”
“Oh?”
“Years ago. My girlfriend – Liana.” Even now, it hurt to push her name past his lips. “She died, I tried to bring her back, nothing happened. If there's really just a wall between the dead and the living, there's no breaking through it.”
“Maybe it worked better than you think it did.”
“Ha.” Victor's lips twitched, a snarl suppressed into a wince. “She'd've told me if she was back. She would have found me. Listen –” He stood, suddenly, and slammed his chair back against the table. “I need to go. Enjoy your lunch, tell them to put it on my tab – I'll pick up the bill. Okay? Bye.” And he stalked off, shoulders hunched and fists trembling.
Liana watched him go, chewing thoughtfully on her lettuce. Maybe, one of these years, she ought to tell him.
And the Night Answered
Once there was a woman who was kind and gentle and as beautiful as the moon, and all who saw her fell in love with her; only she could not love herself. All that she saw in her heart was shadowed.
“Why do they love me?” she cried into the night. And the night answered: “Because you are who you
