So, I’ve been writing a short story that changes focus from character to character as an introduction of what they’re like. I don’t really have a main character but I started with Rioku (the first drawing posted here) because I love him and he’s fun. The story is non-canon/it could have happened but if I ever do something with these characters like write a book this specific story probably won’t be in there. It’s mostly fluff and shenanigans with a touch of seriousness but without further ado, here’s the first part!
He was so close.
Rioku rolled to the left, dodging his opponent’s attack. He thrust forward into what he thought was an opening, only to be countered by a shield block. Undeterred, he pounded at his opponent’s defense, seeking to force him into submission. Suddenly, his opponent charged behind his shield, the force of impact knocking Rioku to the ground. He scrambled to get up, but by the time he had regained his feet, his opponent had already charged his strongest attack. With a series of combos and critical hits, Rioku was flung off of the battle platform and fell to his death, evaporating in a blaze of light.
“NO!!!” Rioku yelled at his holo-screen as it showed his opponent, with only twelve remaining hp, claim victory. The digital character posed next to a big 1st symbol while Rioku’s character politely clapped in the background.
Rioku groaned, falling back on his bed. He had been so close to winning the game. Twelve hp.
“Ready to get pwned again, n00b?” he heard over his headset.
“Only if you’re ready to get totally WRECK...actually,” Rioku looked at the time. “I need do something first.”
“Lame…” his internet friend groaned. “You hardly ever get online to play Epic Bash Buds anymore.”
“This will only take half an hour. Bye.” Rioku turned off the gaming console before his friend could reply. He set his controller to the side and took off his headset, placing it next to his controller. Then he leapt off his bed and began a set of fifty jumping jacks, quickly followed by fifty squats before dropping to the floor, and proceeded to do fifty one-handed push-ups on his left arm, followed up by fifty sit-ups. Once he finished with those, he jumped back into a standing position, walked over to his pull-up bar and performed fifty one-armed pull-ups with the same arm that did the push-ups. It had taken him a long time to adjust to exercising one handed. Only needing to train half his body was still a strange concept to him. Shaking his head, he attempted to force those thoughts out of his head by exercising even harder. After he was done with the pull-ups he dropped back to the floor and repeated the routine until he heard a knock at his door, interrupting his
Grunting, he let go of the pull-up bar and landed on his feet with a clack-thump. “Who is it?” he called out.
“Me!” answered a boy’s voice, sounding way too happy and mischievous for Rioku’s liking.
“Who is it?”
“Oh come on, man,” the voice replied, trying to sound aggravated but obviously too excited to pull it off. “You know who it is.”
Rioku sighed and looked to his clock, realizing his thirty minutes were up. Oh well, his internet friend could wait.
“Come in.”
A portal opened in the ceiling just inside his door and a boy fell through it, bracing his legs as he landed on the floor. He flicked his long, thin tail behind him and smiled cheerfully at Rioku as he straightened from his fall.
Rioku’s attention was immediately drawn to the yellow flower crown he had perfectly balanced on two small black horns peeking through a mess of short white hair, along with the black face paint starkly contrasting against his milk-white skin and electric blue freckles matching the color of his eyes. The paint trailed down from distinct patterns on his face to thick black lines that disappeared under his T-shirt and jeans, only to reappear thinner around his arms and end at his fingertips.
Rioku almost asked about it, but decided not to. Better to confront one incident at a time, the first concerning his friend’s entrance.
“You knocked on the door but couldn’t be bothered to actually open it?” Rioku questioned disapprovingly, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow at Sam.
“Doors are for wimps,” Sam replied easily, gesturing towards tall wooden construct behind him. “Besides,” he added, looking down and shuffling his feet. “I didn’t want to reach for the doorknob.”
Rioku barked a laugh, causing Sam to look up in surprise. He smiled, and was about to continue speaking before Rioku cut him off.
“Why are you here?” Rioku asked.
Sam sighed. “Cutting straight to the point as always,” he said, looking a bit disappointed. The disappointment rapidly melted off of his face and was replaced by excitement as he remembered the reason for his coming there.
“I was asked to perform at the centennial Spring Festival of the Sun-Rose dimension,” He gushed, completely jazzed at the opportunity to share his musical talent but then paused as he remembered something. “It’s not actually called the Sun-Rose dimension,” he corrected himself, “But I like calling it that,” he ended with a playful shrug.
That would explain the festive paint. Rioku opened his mouth to ask another question but now it was his turn to be interrupted.
“Aaaand, before you ask me why I came here, again,” he squinted at Rioku accusingly before continuing, “I wanted to know if you would like to come with me and a bunch of our friends to the celebration.”
Before Rioku could reply, he hurriedly spoke on, “It’ll be tons of fun, there will be music, dancing, drinks, food, festivities like-”
“Okay.”
“What?” Sam looked up at his nearly nine foot friend, surprised.
Rioku looked down at his hopeful face and responded with, “I’ll go. Sounds fun.”
Sam paused for a second, processing this new information, before leaping into the air, shouting, “HECK YEAH!” and fell through a portal that opened below him. Rioku heard him running through the hall.
“C’mon lizard boy! The festival ain’t gonna wait!”
Rioku rolled his eyes to himself and moved toward the door, opening it halfway before taking one last glance at the room behind him. Gray walls covered in posters from various video games greeted him along with his double bed in front of his holo-screen. As he scanned the room he realized he had left the bathroom door open.
He walked over to close it, his right foot’s click followed by his left foot’s thump every other step. He glanced inside only to catch a red flash in the mirror.
Instantly tensing up, Rioku almost dove to the side, ready to dodge the laser-light of the sniper rifle he thought was aimed for him until he found the real source of the flash and relaxed.
His right eye stared back at him, it's dim red light reflecting off the mirror. He stared at it for a moment, then moved on to study the rest of his reflection. It felt odd to look in the mirror and remember half of his body was made of metal. When he wasn’t looking at himself directly, he almost felt he was normal. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to be completely organic again. Flat green scales instead of shiny metal plating. Two arms and two legs, all flesh and bone.
He flexed his hands and closed them into fists, feeling the metal of his right hand grate against itself in contrast to the soft rasp of scales rubbing on scales from his left. He curled his feet, listening to the clawed metal toes of his right foot scrape against the floor with those of his left foot.
He opened his eyes to confront the reflection in the mirror. Half-hearted fantasies wouldn’t get him anywhere. Focusing on the metal half of his face he analyzed the steel skin, the bionic eye, the iron teeth. Baring those teeth at his reflection, he re-accepted the truth of his situation: he could never get his old body back, or return to his previous life. He was stuck like this, whether he liked it or not.
But, that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Being a cyborg had it’s perks.
“Cyborg.” He repeated the word out loud, tasting it on his tongue while he gazed into his reflection once more. That’s what he was, and even though he had been one for nearly a year now, his reflection still felt strange to him, no matter how many times he saw it.
Ta-da! If you have any questions, comments, or concerns about the story, feel free to ask about them in the blog. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.
