Techno-kinetic mental debris-mancer. Hedge mage for the modernest of times. Or, just a tosser. The “junk mage” is a low-level mage/psychic with odd abilities that can range from flickering lights or turning faucets on and off, to short-circuiting electrical grids or causing combustion engines to seize. And, being done largely on a subconscious level, it has been observed that subjects who are in REM sleep or vividly dreaming will manipulate their surroundings in various ways. Whether the actions are meaningful or not is uncertain; a sort of “tea leaf” reading, but with trash. Not all actions are uncontrollable, and with the proper guidance they could blossom into a formidable being (desires withstanding). Their willingness provides many hooks into trades and professions. With little more focus than a typist, the mage can transfer thoughts directly to interfaces such as electronic keypads or fobs, keyboards, and even mechanical locks given a bit more time and energy. Consequently
His flesh blistered, peeled and blackened beneath the coating of gel that burst his body to flame. He stretched hands towards the inferno and knocked the barrel of the flame thrower aside to advance the Sun’s Guard. His withering limbs splashed against the cold steel armor, yet the force still staggered his opponent. His hands seized his attacker’s throat and crushed it without relent.
The city was a wash of orange and red as it burned against the stoic night sky. He gasped for air as if breaking the surface from the ocean’s depth. His body shook, raked of tissue and left bare to the elements. Glistening blue fluid poured f
The Akiba Latex Maid Bar by lobotomonkey, literature
Literature
The Akiba Latex Maid Bar
Sweat and mist mingle on your skin like a dirty rag. The air is thick with city life, wickedly holding oxygen from your lungs. You turn down an unmarked alley barren of windows and doors and barely wide enough to pass through. Your shoulders scrape against the course brick and tile as you turn a corner, and then another, leaving all light and life behind you like a movie in a far off room.
You slip through the cracks between buildings to come to a familiar stairwell. Coarse rumblings growl through the earth and pavement as you approach the distant red glow rising up from the tunnel. The air thins slightly as you descend, subtly cooler, and w
Possessed by the spirit, the woman was immersed in a vision of the past: Comfort evaporated, swallowed by the thick silhouettes of the forest around her. Although close to home, sacred ground was completely alien to her. Branches, stripped bare by an early autumn, fractured light from the full harvest moon. A brilliant blue-white illuminated the flowing silk of her dress as it swept over pave stones and fallen leaves. The woods had long since fell silent, yet, she followed the crooked path even as it sought to rake away her convictions.
"It was the final harvest and a sacred time of recompense for our fief." The spirit explained. "We were a
Odyssey Into 2012 : Chapter 3 by lobotomonkey, literature
Literature
Odyssey Into 2012 : Chapter 3
The light gate vanishes in an instant. Kaylin stumbles forward even as her eyes struggle to adjust. Her knees bounce off the metallic walls of the narrow passage, but she pushes on and soon electronic beeps chirp from the subway turnstile. She stands in relief as the little doors humbly close. She had escaped.
The platform spreads out before her, ruined and abandoned. She tries to recall the particular station to get her bearing, but gives up. It didn't matter. Debris filled the exit and she could feel in her gut this wouldn't end under daylight, anyway. Her heart begins to sink.
Kaylin sighs. Her focus should be ahead of her, she conclude