More Characters and A Real Writing Prompt

I’m about to head off to some family gatherings, so this post might not be the most substantial, but I promised a few more characters, and then I had an idea.

Writing Prompt: Write an antagonist with one of these characters (or even Auxilius) as the protagonist. Do it however you want, but keep in mind that every villain is a hero to someone. Post what you wrote below and enjoy your weekend, dear reader!

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Davis, Possessed by Riches

The liquid was gold, but it was not expensive. It was ruining a very expensive carpet, but what is the use of a floor if you can’t use it?

He was drunk, which was very unusual. Davis had an ‘anti-hol’ tube in his throat, which kept him from getting drunk, partly because his probation required it, and partly because he thought it was awesome that he was going to be ‘a fuckin’ cyborg dude’.

Some habits can’t be erased with machines. Or all machines can be circumvented by human ingenuity. Or by the internet. He was being profound, talking like he knew everything about life and pissing on his father’s carpet. Really, though, he had just found another way to get his drinks into his body.

Someone else would clean it up. They always did. If his father didn’t blame it on the persian leopard, then maybe Davis would get a good clean up too. With his father’s righ fist. And left fist. And foot. And probably a few plates or belts or whatever else was lying around. It didn’t matter, it would go away.

See, that’s the problem Davis had with everything. It always went away. Nothing lasted.

No feeling. No desire. No anger. No money. No love. Not fucking anything or anyone. If he had been religious, he might have believed everyone had a purpose, a destiny. But he wasn’t. So he didn’t. Things just went away when they did. So fuck it.

 

Anja

Goddamn she’s beautiful, thought the girl who liked to be called a woman. I wish I looked like her. If only she knew. If only she knew.

 

J__________

Too close, he writes. Too close, that time. They will find out. They will find out and then they will come for me. They will come for us. What can we do? I have hidden myself, I have blacked out the sky and the stars still shine through. If only they were more like us, if only they could understand what we understand.

But no, nothing will satisfy their curiosity. Their greed. They will consume every one of us, they will tear us from our homes and supplant us with something less real, and more beautiful. They will destroy everything we love, and we will be forgotten and they will be remembered, and they will deserve it.

If only we were more like them.

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