Stories: One-shots

In the early days of Terminus Nation, I didn’t quite feel like getting started with the main storyline so I had some one-shots that could help me practicing writing. As of June 2022, the only ones worth sharing are two writings I did as part of some writing prompts; honestly I don’t even remember anymore, where did I find these prompt ideas.

As far as I’m concerned, they are not wildly off from canon, but I don’t even bother too much with interpreting their content with the lore. Either way, I have implemented some loose updates, such as the addition of the usage of the word ‘distemporal’.

Writing Prompt 1: Couch wisdom

Written in 2015.

This one is special, because the amount of words in each sentence grows as they go on. The first sentence has one word, the second one has two, and so on.

Waiting. Just waiting. Still without ideas. I keep on trying. Even in this unexpected situation.

I don’t know, why it happened. But maybe, I made the right decision. Even if I’m sick of speaking about morality. Not that anything changed, since there always are exceptions. And exceptions strengthen the rules, or whatever smart people say.

She’s surely an exception; I have to admit: there’s no doubt. A tall, blonde, slim one with blue eyes and fairly huge boobs. Well, I’m not sure I’ve seen the latter properly, but it’s not important. For such a body shape, it’s hard to imagine anything else than that, anyway. The matter is that such a beautiful girl can’t be just let on the streets.

Definitely funny thoughts from such a guy like me, especially after those winters in the city. It’s not comparable at all, since this shithole is apparently warmer and heck, even cleaner than that. Which really makes me wonder, what bright is in that future those shitty advertisement were always talking about. Most likely, the case is that I’m dropped from cyberpunk to steampunk, and yet, the latter is apparently better? That tells a lot about how technology WON’T make humanity’s future better, and about that how lucky is that girl.

Not that I would ever, EVER see such an attractive chick alive at any corners of that filthy hive of scums. So, likely it was both of our luck that we met here, in another filthy hive of scums; but still rather for her. Exposing her belly, her legs, her left shoulder and the whole of her arms in that cold, or even in that heavy rain? Even if she’s a distemporal one, and likely she is, no one would have ever taken care of her, if I couldn’t find her. The fact she was crying out her lungs in such a dirty alley in that clothing, completely soaked…that depicts a horrible state of this place.

I’ve seen far too much things during my life to be shocked or something; in fact, she’s not only lucky but could get away quite easily. The part of this shit I hate so much is that the Republic promises that they provide shelter for all the vulnerable distemporal people coming within borders. Considering that Vel is under complete control of the Republic, I really doubt she was coming out of the borders, but still, he was homeless for days, apparently. How on Earth is it possible that no one has thought of that a girl wearing tribal clothing in the middle of a Victorian-like industrial city is clearly distemporal? Were the civilians thinking she’s cosplaying, or that she’s under influence, or that they weren’t even giving a shit about an absolutely lost person crying on the god damn streets?

So many questions with no answer; not that I’m surprised, but one would think, such behavior is not natural in a rather classic (or whatever) environment like Vel and its surroundings. But apparently, the smoke clouds, the ugly processing plants on the horizon, the rusty town clocks, and even the disgusting tiles at the Monument Square are all not lying about this shithole. I’m so fucking sick of this unbearable, monochrome pit; I swear it feels as if I was in the Purgatory, and that would at least explain why no one took care of her. The worst of all is that having her on my side would definitely make my attempt to leave this forsaken and desperate planet even harder, not even talking about the response of the gangs. All the time, I have to be prepared for their attack, and they would exploit her against me easily, which is the last I need in times when I try to make them lose trace.

She stopped crying, as far as I can hear; probably the combination of that hot shower and that small amount of remaining food I gave could make her feel better and be able to rest some. She was crying all the way up in the staircase hall; I can’t imagine what she had to go through, but surely must have been exceptionally painful and way too much for such a girl like her. She surely needs that rest, so it’s better not talk about these gangster scum; not that I’d be skeptical, I have no rights since I don’t even know her, but considering her state, I definitely have to wait. Salazar told he can warn us in time about the incoming danger; I keep prepared though, but if he’s right then only a couple of days might be enough to move out the apartment and approach the Central District. There we’ll be able to bribe blues to let us leave; after that, I may help her life make better and easier, until though, I even have to wait – and find out if she’s trustworthy, so…I hope she sleeps well.

Writing Prompt 2: Rust and Gold

Written in 2015.

- The short-haired woman laid back to the rusty barrel and sighed in discomfort. She turned her right hand’s fingers towards her head while plunging her left one into a puddle nearby. Cool spray of water soon flew to the face that was so tired after the all-day rush.

-Bram, for God’s sake, do something with the fans! – She shouted on her strong and deep, yet feminine voice. – I can’t take this heat anymore!

-I’m trying, darling, I’m trying! – A short brown haired male head went out from behind a barrel in front of the woman. – This tech is a pile of dogshit, but I keep on trying! I’m not an engineer, so please be god damn patient! She combed her one-sided dark red hair to the left, to expose the shaved part of her head. She then wiped sweat down from that part of her head. Among these conditions, she was really satisfied with her hairstyle; for a long time, she hated being prejudged by the Mohawk haircut, as she looked like bandits, but since she and Bram became the Reaper Duo, she did not care out such things anymore. After another sigh and some seconds of silence, she looked up to the night sky, to the familiar, yet strange dark red stripe. It started near to the horizon, and went through the entire scenery, ending on the other side of the horizon and bearing a blanch red oval form in the middle.

-The Beacon World is directly above us. – She said. – What time does it mean in the current season?

-About midnight, if I recall correctly. – The man answered. – Check the spreadsheet we got on Uveiel.

-Fuck no, you think I start looking for that right now?!

-Lora please! – He shouted. – I’m also tired, so don’t piss me off further!

-Why did you have the bright idea to visit an artificial planet at all?! Bram stood up to a barrel, with a medium-sized metal fan in his lap and a screwdriver in his hand.

-Look, if we want to find the Aurost homeland, only Anubis can help! I’m also sick of all those metallic trees and such, but this is the only place we can contact him without crossing another series of warps. And the LAST thing we need is to get caught by the TraPol. The woman spat to a corner.

-No one gives a fuck on Uveiel anyways…

-Because it’s the Borderrealm. The only place where we are in safe. But we shouldn’t take that easy, it’s just a matter of time one of the warps turns suddenly and opens gateway to a Cloudan planet.

-Don’t even say…the cold shakes me when I see those malformed mutants.

-And Anubis hates them as much as we do. So we’re in safe only here.

-But Bram, my dear… -Lora sat up, slowly taking off her dark gray armor vest. – You think we’ll be released by an AI after getting the info?

-Well… -The male put down the screwdriver and placed the fan in front of her. – Whatever orders he gives, I doubt he won’t help by placing us to another, likely not Republican planet. He’s not irrational…and taking the Aurost Fatherland into account…is quite positive.

-Our only alien allies.

-The biggest ones at least. – Bram turned on the fan; it worked. Quite loudly, but the Silverish device produced wind – that flew directly to the bust of the Mohawk-haired woman.

-Ah, that’ fantastic! Thank you, darling! – She turned up her head in a smile. The male stepped as close as he could, while the woman closed her eyes, leant down and gave her a kiss – a “French kiss” as it was known in the Old Earth Ages. She requited it with her tongue and the caress of her head on his face; soon, the male put his hand down through her cleavage, grabbing her right breast below the shirt.

-Not now, asshole! – The woman whispered when they took a small pause in kiss.

-I doubt you can sleep next to the fan buzz and the machinery noises from below anyway. – He smiled.

-Bram, you told me that the transistor fields are near…we must sleep.

-Hey, you won’t be the last woman who made love on a machine planet. But I can give you an ukulele serenade if you want the atmosphere. Lora laughed, gently biting the lower lips of the male; the male who still caressed her breast.

-Dork! – She said. – I can’t believe you still have that!

-Hey, it’s from our Uveielan friends! I won’t lose it until we go back to any surface. – Bram smiled, and his partner did so, in some seconds of silence; but it was interrupted as the male’s index finger slowly approached the nipple of the woman, starting caressing that. Seeing her blush, he asked:

-So? Do you want some fun, after a tough hike? The woman grabbed his dark purple clothing at his neck, dragging him down, kissing her again, and whispered:

-Go to the tent and undress, I’ll follow you soon. The man released her and started walking towards a pile of scrap; he bent below and soon disappeared as he was taking pieces of armor off of his leg and arm.