#fictional beings

[entertainingthewhatifs]

Into the Deep..#RDP #flashfiction

Into the Deep..#RDP #flashfiction

“Onward,” Filliburt commanded. “We’ll find their hideout soon enough!” Deeper into the cave they went.

“Hark!” Rexi called, then turned to Filliburt.

“I believe I hear the gentle cry of a banshee,” he whispered.

“Banshees don’t gently cry, that they don’t!” Patterson scolded in his English brogue.

“What do you know , Patterson! You’ve just never met a vulnerable banshee!”

“Cut!” Marson choked…

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[im-vampirebarbie]

F I C T I O N A L   B E I N G S  ||   G H O S T S

[im-vampirebarbie]

F I C T I O N A L   B E I N G S  ||   W E R E W O L V E S

[savageleewriting]

DreamCrappers

We were childhood friends granted psychic powers from an extra-dimensional being we saved from being eating by dog. 

Barry could see through time. He won eight lotteries before he succumbed to depression. 

Steve knew everything birds were thinking. He shot himself just three weeks ago.

Diane could implant mental suggestions into the minds of fish. So far as I know, she has still never used her power. 

Mike could forget anything, but then he forgot how to use the ability. Then he was hit by a bus.

Beverly could see the ghosts of dinosaurs. Now she poops a little whenever she gets nervous. 

And me? Well, I was the lucky one. I gained the supernatural capability to know exactly when to start and stop the recording on a VCR to miss all of the commercials, and not any of the show. Of course, then DVD and online viewing came along, so there’s not really much of a use for what I can do these days.

And it turned out the alien was kind of a jerk, too. 

[savageleewriting]

Just (un)Lucky, I Guess...

A few times now I've noticed fictional characters as being described as “unlucky”. Specifically Peter Parker gets it a lot, as does Matt Murdock.

But you know what's really unlucky? Bad writing.

Fictional universes are strange places. Unlike the real world, where this is being written, one must sometimes assume that fictional universes are not godless places of chaos and chance. In fact, fictional universes regularly have at least one major deity, if not a few.

Basically, when you're writing, nothing happens by chance. That character didn't just happen to find a lottery ticket, or to get hit by a random car. Somebody came up with that idea, wrote it, and then fit it into a larger plot. Nothing happens haphazardly. There is a reason and purpose behind every event, even if that purpose is just “to add drama to an otherwise boring story”.

Thus, when bad things consistently happen to the same character for no good reason, that's not bad luck. That's bad writing. Bad world building, on the part of a lazy god.

So don't tell me your character is unlucky. Tell me you're going to spend the time to create a real world for your character to live in, a world not ruled by lazy themes such as chance.

[savageleewriting]

Mister Magump down Liquorish Lane

Down Liquorish Lane in Candy Town there's a small broken piece of caramel named Mister Magump, who sells secrets by the pound. Nobody knows where he gets them from, but I suspect that he's got listening devices implanted at all the most gossipy corners. 

Mister Magump has only one good eye, and it's the colour and shape of a maraschino cherry. His heart beats three times a day, and when it does, song birds fart awkwardly.

There is a connection.

You'd be better off staying well away from Mister Magump and all of Liquorish Lane, from the little graham-cracker shack that Miss Mapletoes lives in, to the great milky mansion of McTweedle Siblings, all eighteen and a half of them.

[savageleewriting]

Such A Tasty Lie

She stabbed me through the heart with a chromium drinking straw and said, something clever… You know, one of those pithy remarks you make just as the light of life trickles out of some sad sap’s eyes.

I’d been doing an investigation on serial murderers, and a strange collection of stamps had brought me to her backdoor. She’d invited me in with a glass of pink lemonade that was so bright it was almost lewd.

We exchanged pleasantries and friended each other online. Then she slipped out of her outfit, and encouraged me to do the same.

We didn’t really dance; we just sort of tumbled through the house. You might have thought of two cats fighting, what with all the yowls. She cut me once or twice, and then I learned to like it.

By the end of the night, it was the start of the morning, and I was done. Drained.

Well, I thought I was drained, all the way to my last drop of goodness.

But then that straw plunged deep into me.

And she found a few more drops to swallow.