Corvus' Short Scenes!!

[Morningtide]

I like the voice! It's really interesting

[Medium]

Entry 10 to follow, with a third writer.

[Morningtide]

Awesome! This is turning out to be super cool!

[The Halcyon Girl]

Woah th is stuff is… marvelous.

[The Wandering Wizard]

Interesting, I'm really curious to see where you're going with this.

[Medium]

Scene #79: Filler scene while you wait on Entry 10.

Spoiler

2 teams.

8 players.

I stand, sweating, as the opposing team stares us down.

My hand tightens around my bow, and I make eye contact with one of my opponents.

His cloak’s hood is up, the slit in the back creating two large half-cloaks. His mask is pointed, like the beak of a parrot, and his left eye is showing through the hole of the mask. His right eye is covered by the mask, a small smiley face where the eye should be.

It’s menacing.

He moves his hand from behind his cloak, and his bow appears. With his other hand, he reaches up and grabs his mask, revealing a freckled face, and a confident grin.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” He shouts.

And the battle begins.

 

… 

 

I look up at the scoreboard. 2 for 2.

It’s the tiebreaker round.

Me and the one with the smiling eye.

He grins, and holds his bow. His side doesn’t have any arrows. I have two.

I draw, my longbow straining as my eye hones in on the target.

I breathe, calling upon the strength of the Fallen.

I release. Time slows down. The arrow flies.

And hits home, dead center.

My opponent bursts into smoke, and the horns blare.

We’ve won.

 

[Medium]

Scene 78.2: Entry 10.

Spoiler

Entry 10:

So, I guess I have this journal now.

Reading through it, there’s only one thing I can think to add. An account of mine and others experiences on Doomsday. After I recount that, maybe someone else can recount something else.

I am The Baker. I’ve spent my life trying to be a pacifist, but also be on the right side. I’ve avoided the Egg, I was a part of The Nation, and I’ve been here for a long time.

Doomsday happened a couple of months after the Red Festival. The Nation had rebuilt itself for many weeks, creating a nation on stilts, in the crater of the explosion caused by The Broken One. Or, as I knew him; Wilbur. I believe that is the first time someone’s actual name has been mentioned in this journal.

Wilbur was.. Important to me. Very important. His spiral into greed and madness was heartbreaking, and I still don’t know how I can, if I ever will, forgive him. Even now, I wear the cloak he wore that day. The cloak with the hole in it, from where his father killed him. The Winged Father, this journal calls him. He killed Wilbur at Wilbur’s own request.

He has not forgiven himself.

Doomsday was the culmination of months of tension between The Warrior, The Giver, and The Rebel. When The Warrior helped The Rebel escape his exile, which he was placed into after committing various crimes, The Rebel turned on him. The Warrior joined sides with The Giver and gave him an ultimatum.

The next day, 3 PM. The Nation would die, once and for all. I remember staying up that night, watching The Giver in the light of the moon, build a grid in the sky out of obsidian. He wired it, with tons upon tons of explosive, to rain TNT down upon The Nation at the appointed time.

And when that time came, it created hell on earth. The Warrior came with his dogs, hundreds of them, and it turned from a battle to a bloodbath. The Nation became a crater to the center of the world, a burning, smoldering, toxic wasteland.

I burned down The Tree. The Tree had stood for longer than The Nation, and was one of the symbols of the Pride of The Nation. But The Nation was no more. And so, I watched The Tree burn, and I saluted.

When the bombs stopped, when all was quiet, except for the crackling of some still lit fires, I heard a song. Sung by the ghost of The Broken One.

The Nation Anthem. It was melancholy, a last hurrah to the beautiful, broken Nation that had stood so long, and fallen so far.

Doomsday was a fitting name, accepted fast far and wide. The Crater was avoided, except by The Winged Father has since turned it into a memorial, as everyone agrees the world is better off without such a corrupt, broken Nation.

I cannot say much here. These memories are painful, and the pages are running out. This is a rather short journal, meant for jotting down small notes, but it has been used as an account of history.

I will find someone to hand the journal off too. They will do with it what they will. Personally, I hope whoever I hand it to will burn it.

Entry 11 will be the final entry, and I am writing it now. Hope to finish it within the hour.

Edited November 4, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[Medium]

Scene 78.3: Entry 11.

Spoiler

Entry 11:

I do not have a title. I do not have a story, at least, not one I wish to share at the moment. I’m here to provide an ending, an ending I believe was wanted by The Baker in Entry 10. She was right, the pages are running out. But I will not be burning this journal. The accounts contained are… eye opening.

My name is Karl.

I do not have much to say. I do not wish to say much anyways. Everything in this journal has happened. It’s been recorded multiple times, and stored in my Grand Library. I will eventually store this journal there too.

But first, I’ll tell you a short tale.

A tale about a man. Unnamed, but a man all the same. This man craved power above all else. Control, dominion, an iron fist to rule the world.

And as we all know, absolute power corrupts absolutely. This man used his skills to manipulate people, to drag them along like puppets on a string. It led to his downfall. He fought and fought, holding hostage everything people held dear. But, people fought back. People saw his manipulation, and they fought back.

And they won. Peace was acquired. People rejoiced, and the man was locked away. Locked away like the monster he actually was.

This will be this journal's final entry.

I will be placing it in my Library, where people can read it if they choose. I do not know the identity of the Narrator, I believe I never will. And there is still so much more to tell.

But, in the words of the Narrator, ‘I pray, dear reader, you find this land.’

I hope you come to this land, I hope you discover us. We will tell you our stories.

These tales of the past, they are important. They’re lessons. We remember them, sequester them away in our sanctums and libraries, to dwell upon and wonder about.

Farewell.

The Journal Saga is over. It comprises any vignette with the Scene ID of 78 as the first 2 digits. Thanks for reading.

@Morningtide i know you like readin this

Edited November 7, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[Morningtide]

asdfgjsdkjfekhl how did I miss the last two!!! They're so good! Great conclusion these are incredible

[Medium]

Scene #80: I See You Everywhere

Spoiler

I was a fool to think we could be together. 

I see you everywhere, now that you’re gone.

The statue in the forest, slowly being assimilated into nature.

The townsfolk.

The rustling leaves, gentle like your laugh.

The wind in my face, powerful like your smile.

And I dream of you. I dream of you night after night.

I dream of you coming back, apologizing, saying you’re here to stay.

Then I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. Because it’s all wrong.

You aren’t here.

The statue in the forest is all that remains of you.

Your likeness, there in the woods, will slowly be eaten up by the trees and earth,

Until nothing remains.

And then what’s left for me?

Nothing is left for me. You were the only thing that mattered to me.

Life without you is painful, unbearable, awful.

So I go to the place that’s cold, the place that’s wet, and deep.

To travel to the place that’s warm, the place that’s dry, and deep.

And there,

In that warm place,

I’ll wait to see you again.

 

[Morningtide]

*crying*

[Medium]

yes good haha cry

[Shadowed]

This is beautiful.  

[Medium]

Scene #81: Where Is Your Home

Spoiler

“Where is your home?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has a home.”

“Not me.”

“Why do you not have a home?”

“I lost mine.”

“Then go find it.”

“If only it were so easy.”

“You did not lose your home physically, did you?”

Her voice is soft, compassionate, and curious. She wishes to learn why I am like this.

“No. No, I didn’t.” I lean forward on the rail. The wound on my nose stings in the cold drizzle.

“Did you have a love?”

“Yes.”

“Did you.. Lose that love like you lost your home?”

“Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper, barely heard over the drizzle.

“Do you need a new love?”

“...No.” I look up at the neon billboard in front of me.

“Do you need a new home?”

“No.”

“Is there a way to get your home back?”

“No. There isn’t.”

“Why did you lose it?”

“How.”

“I don’t understand.”

“How did I lose it.”

“Then how did you lose it?”

“I made a mistake. A big mistake.” I can feel myself tearing up. I know it won’t be seen. My face is already damp, due to the ever present rain.

“What mistake did you make?”

I don’t respond.

She doesn’t follow up.

“End simulation,” I say. 

Her face vanishes, and I stand back up off the rail. I take a deep breath.

And I walk away. Off to nowhere.

 

Edited November 11, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[Medium]

Scene #82: Infiltration.

Spoiler

Chaos Insurgency Infiltration Log 3B:

[BEGIN LOG]

COMMAND: “Beta-1, status.”

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: “Entering Eagle Vent, directly over Shy Guy. Waiting upon confirmation to engage.”

COMMAND: “Engage. Confirm.”

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: “Confirmed, Engage.”

*sounds of prying a vent open, grunts of dropping to the ground*

*clicks of unlocking gun safeties, activation of night vision*

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: “We have entered Exterior Shy Guy Containment. White Box is in the expected position. Waiting upon confirmation to plant explosives.”

COMMAND: “Plant explosives. Confirm.”

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: “Confirmed, planting explosives.”

*sounds of magnetic clunking as explosives are placed*

OFFICER: Command? MTF Forces are en route to Beta-1 location.

COMMAND: How many?

OFFICER: 7, by our count. Gear relative to that of MTF force X-Ray-9, SCRAMBL goggles equipped. 

COMMAND: Beta-1, get out of there as fast as you can. You have MTF converging on your position.

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: Copy, Command. Priming explosives.

BETA-1 OPERATIVE EMERALD: Explosives primed.

COMMAND: Now get out of there.

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: Copy, Command. Egress cables in vent. Lifting off, away from Shy Guy.

OFFICER: X-Ray-9 unit outside containment chamber.

COMMAND: Lock the vent. 

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: Away, Away, Away. Blow explosives.

*sounds of vent clanging into place. muffled drills sound, securing vent. footsteps along the vent. a loud explosion.*

BETA-1 HEAD OPERATIVE RUBY: Bombs away, bombs away, bombs away. Shy guy breached.

COMMAND: Good work. That ought to give ‘em some grief. Return to base.

[END LOG]

 

[Medium]

Scene #83: The Accident

Spoiler

“Listen,” Alus says, his loose gaseous form billowing slightly, “I know it’s been rough, you’ve been through a lot.”

I nod, digging around my head, searching for something, although I don’t know what.

“But, you’ll move on,” He says, “They always do.”

That strikes a chord. Why?

“What?” I ask.

Alus’ face flickers with frustration. “You’ll move on.” He says firmly, in his British accent.

“You’ll forget about Clara, and you’ll move on,” He says, and smiles at me.

Clara.

Clara..

Clara.

“What?” I find myself asking softly, again.

Alus’ form shivers, almost in anger. I presume.

“Clara? Did I get her name wrong? Oh, I’m sorry, these names,” he says, with a nervous chuckle, “They throw me off sometimes.”

“How do you know about Clara?” I ask softly, incredulously.

Alus’ face falls.

“Well-- We’re not really supposed to talk about it, I mean,” He chuckles again, and I cut him off.

“How do you know about Clara, have you seen her? Is she okay?”

Alus put’s up his arms, but I slap them away. They, being made of gas, billow away for a second before reforming.

“Okay, this won’t do, this won’t do at all.” He turns, yelling at something, “Myra? Myra, get over here!”

My vision starts to go dark around the edges. I’m hyperventilating, my mind overrun with memories. Memories that I now realize had been taken from me.

A figure enters my blurry vision, and speaks in a feminine tone. “Get him inside. Give him the Shun again, that should fix it.”

And then my vision goes black.

…

…

…

…Myriam.

I gasp and sit up, the image of an Eye of Many Eyes flashing in my mind.

It leaves just as quickly, and I’m sat there, mind cloudy, wondering what happened.

I relax, and sigh. The door opens.

Alus floats into the room. “Hello!” He says jovially, “Glad to see you’re feeling better. You went unconscious for a bit, but you should be feeling much better. We should be able to get you out of here and back into the world soon.”

He moves to leave, but a question arises in my throat, then bursts out of my mouth. “Alus, are memories dreams? Or are dreams memories?”

Alus pauses. He turns. “Dreams are whatever you think them to be. Some can be memories, flickering, fleeting instances of the past. Or they’re randomly generated. Memories are the same. So, I guess, in a sense.. Yes…” He furrows his gaseous brow, and leaves, the door closing.

I sit there, confused.

…Do you blame yourself?

I look up, seeing an Eye of Many Eyes, glowing a deep red, hovering in my room. I notice my room has gone black. It's just me, my bed, and this Eye of Many Eyes.

“What?” I ask.

…Well, it’s quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of… guilt.

“What situation?” I ask, fear rising.

The Accident.

And I’m launched back to that day.

An ambulance. Flashing red and blue lights. Clara, in the back of the ambulance. The rain.

I’m reliving it. And the Eye of Many Eyes is hovering above the ambulance. Watching. Curiously.

It wants to know why.

…Why do you hate this place?

“Why have you brought me back?” I whisper, feeling again the cold rain slipping down my back.

…It’s very common for people to invent blame or create a causality when in reality… it was completely out of your control.

“But it was my fault.”

…But was it?

I watch as the paramedics slam the doors. I look down at my hands, and watch the blood mix with the rainwater, and run down my arms.

I begin to cry. I don’t want to be here.

“I don’t want to be here.”

…That is why you are here. Because you don’t want to be here, you are here.

I suddenly feel something in my hands. A cardigan.

Clara’s cardigan. Her favorite one. Cream colored, with sleeves that she would create a ball with in her hands, to keep them warm.

Covered in blood.

…Why do you hate this place?

“Because. I know what happened. I know that it’s my fault. I know she’s gone and never coming back,” I break down and start crying in earnest.

The Eye of Many Eyes stares at me, in silent, solemn wonder.

…Do you truly believe that?

“It’s not like you can bring her back, whatever you are.”

…Do you truly believe it is your fault?

I realize that’s what this Eye of Many Eyes meant, and I look up at it, at its staring red figure.

“Yes.” I say firmly, tears mixing in the rain on my cheeks.

…So be it.

And I’m back in my bed. I stare at the wall. And I scream.

who can i tag to come read my stuff :]

@Morningtide @The Wandering Wizard @The Halcyon Girl

eh i want feedback i like it I HAVE NO SHAME IN PINGING Y'ALL

Edited November 18, 2022 by CalanoCorvus

[The Wandering Wizard]

This is good.

You're very good at writing the rememberance of the event, it has power.

I'm also out of rep

[Medium]

ha it's fine

now go up and read the rest :]

yes im shamelessly plugging my brand

[Morningtide]

You are incredible! This writing is insane

[The Wandering Wizard]

2 hours ago, CalanoCorvus said:

now go up and read the rest :]

 

I was refering to the last one.

[Medium]

i know. but did you read the scenes above that one :eyes:

and thanks for the kindness @Morningtide

mmm validation

[Morningtide]

Lol!

[The Wandering Wizard]

Just now, CalanoCorvus said:

i know. but did you read the scenes above that one :eyes:

 

[Medium]

Hello everyone!

I've been quite busy, haven't had much time, inspiration, or motive for writing.

My apologies.

But I did just write this.

Scene #84: The Sun And The Moon

Spoiler

She sits on the roof,

In the dead of night,

And looks at the moon,

“Mr. Moon,” She says,

“He is like you, Mr. Moon,”

“Thoughtful, and kind, and funny,”

“And bright, oh, so bright,”

“But does he know this?”

“How do I make him know this?”

“The 4 walls of my room, they listen,”

“But my ceiling is bored,”

“Bored of my staring at it,”

“Wondering after him, after us.”

She sits on the roof,

In the dead of night,

And talks to the moon.

He gets up early,

Early in the morn’,

And looks at the sun,

“Ms. Sun, help me,” He says,

“I don’t know how to do this,”

“She is like you, Ms. Sun,”

“Powerful, warm, and beautiful,”

“And bright, oh, so bright,”

“But does she know that?”

“How can I tell her that?”

“The duvet on my bed, it listens,”

“But my ceiling is bored,”

“Bored of my staring at it,”

“Wondering after her, after us.”

He gets up early,

Early in the morn’,

And talks to the sun.

The moon does not respond to her.

The sun does not respond to him.

But they respond to each other,

The Moon and the Sun,

The She and the He.

 

[Morningtide]

That is adorable and sweet and I love it so much. It's so poetic!!!!