Tag: 30 characters

#19-The Black Olive

| November 19, 2012 | 2 Comments

The Black Olive

#18 The Texas Tornado

| November 18, 2012 | 0 Comments

Day Twelve: Your Man

| November 17, 2012 | 0 Comments

Here comes the man you’ve been waiting for.
~Tosche

#17 The Beaumont Bandit

| November 17, 2012 | 0 Comments

The Beaumont Bandit

#16 The Little Green Men

| November 16, 2012 | 0 Comments

The Little Green Men

Day 14: Cartsward Major

| November 15, 2012 | 2 Comments

Day 13: Ratch Fillmondo

| November 15, 2012 | 0 Comments

Day Eleven: Ardent Way

| November 15, 2012 | 0 Comments

It had all lead to this, she’d put in a hell of a lot of effort to get this far, the odds had been far out of her favor and yet she had triumphed. A cup of coffee, altogether too hot and sweet, was hers. Triumph.
The darting eyes of waiters under thick black hair and too much pressure from the obnoxious American canoe competition team on table four had not looked her way, the steaming pots of cheap coffee and weak tea poured by without ever diverting in their path to her table but still she had triumphed over the odds. With a cunning combination of feminine charm and obstinate determination that comes from paying a ludicrous fee for the breakfast buffet she had broken through the ranks of waiting staff to her goal: the coffee. Kind of a shame that it tasted so awful.
~Tosche

#15-Sputnik-The-Space-Monkey

| November 15, 2012 | 0 Comments

Sputnik The Space Monkey

Day Ten: Mystic Oats

| November 15, 2012 | 0 Comments


A hairy hipster with magic in his hips and cosmic weight on his shoulders, blessed with phantasmagorical finger powers and cursed with sweaty socks — unwashed for going on three days now.
~Tosche

#14-The-Spicy-Chilito

| November 14, 2012 | 0 Comments
The Spicy Chilto

The Spicy Chllito

No13

| November 13, 2012 | 0 Comments

Day Nine: Space Piratex

| November 13, 2012 | 0 Comments

 

Space, that was the dream. Space — the place children (our future) all across her country had lived for, before they discovered reality TV in their teen years, the place though which ufological wonks of all ages had wanted to drift.
The actual place was less majestic than the men and women of science-based television programing had promised and closer to an afternoon floating with the refuse of a billion people in the waves of a Lama Island beach in a waning Summer.
The Space Piratex probe didn’t mind, for a start she’d never been to any of Lama Island’s waste-disposal beaches and so was unable to see the sad similarity. No, an enterprising class of public school over-achievers hadn’t built her to despair at the state of the space, Space Piratex had been built to win that class the finals of the “Sweep It Under the Rug: Environmental Solutions” competition. Her directives were clear: clean, clean that cosmos up long enough to get her masters a photo in three of their local papers. It was a task she probably could have completed too, if it weren’t for those attention lacking kids and their rudimentary android building skill sets.
~Tosche

#8 Zebra-Corn

| November 12, 2012 | 0 Comments

When most people hear “Zebra-Corn” they maybe picture a regal unicorn like beast with a single horn and zebra stripes… But it’s actually something far less regal with a horrible reputation for how it “stalks” its prey.

#11-The-Flying Burrito

| November 12, 2012 | 0 Comments
The Flying Burrito

The Flying Burrito – no need to say more.

#12 Garret, Brother of the Silent Sword.

| November 12, 2012 | 0 Comments

The great city of Saal is on the borders of many realms and kingdoms and as such is home to a diverse range of people, whether they call Saal home or are just passing through. Garret is neither; he is one of the few who are assigned to Saal.

As part of the guild of the Silent Sword, Garret is an assassin of the highest order. Trained from birth in the ways of the blade and the dark magics of the shadow the brothers and sisters of the silent sword are the most feared and sort after assassins in the world. Once fully trained and inducted into the guild fully, with the forging and naming of their Silent Sword, they are assigned to a city or province. They will live and die here, assassinating only those they are hired to, a silent sword never being drawn unless is has been paid to be drawn.

Garret has been in Saal for nine years and has taken countless lives over that time. His sword, Tace tasting the blood of noblewoman, brutish men, messengers and priests alike.

The message appeared in the same way as all the others, a vision of the target shown in a mirror. Their name appearing like smoke around them. The man standing before Garret today was the strong and powerful figure of King Dontas Godart. Before the king had even reached Saal a bounty had fallen on his head, and it had fallen to Garret to answer the call. He knew of the king of Elmore, he had heard the stories of the great and noble ruler of the realm, and the woe that had befallen him. Garret knew that Dontas being in Saal meant a changing of the times, he Dontas would be the man to slay him, yet he fastened Tace to around his waist and went to find the king who would be his killer. 

Day Eight: Rum-Ram Bloodstold

| November 12, 2012 | 0 Comments


Tired old man, tired old Bloodstold, in his throne of imitation leather and sipping a glass of tonic and lemon because he’s all out of gin. His runes are all cast, his deceitfully youthful body ached more and more as the nights when he can get a rise out of his magiks became increasingly few and depressingly mundane.  Rum-Ram Bloodstold, the last of his kind in this world to not have given up and departed for the old soul’s dimension, took another sip of his tart drink and fondled thoughts of when the tarts he had at night weren’t just the liquid or pastry variety.
One more sip, Rum-Ram decided, one more sip and then a slip — into sober sleep.
~Tosche

#11 King Dontas Godart.

| November 11, 2012 | 0 Comments

Through out the Kingdom of Elmore youth is praised and celebrated, they are seen as strong and clear of mind. These perceptions of youth are what led to the creation of the Crowning ritual. On the eve of the reigning rulers fortieth naming day a ceremony is held. The first-born son or daughter of the ruler, or if they have no offspring, the first-born child of the noblest family in the kingdom is handed down the crown by the current monarch, whom is then behead by the new ruler as the first act in the changing of the order. It is seen as an honour to part of this ceremony. King Dontas does not feel honoured by the thought.

Dontas has ruled with a kind heart and Iron hand since he had reluctantly beheaded his own father to take his place. His father, Wilhelm had been an honourable and brave man and as such had looked forward to the day when Dontas would take his place, Dontas was just filled with a great sadness to have his father gone.

Now twenty-four years later on the eve of his fortieth name day Dontas has no sons or daughters, his only offspring, Vance had passed in infancy. Dontas lost his wife to the grieve not a year later. He was not ready to hand over his kingdom to the Kulgran family. The house next in line to rule should the house of Godart not be able to. He had a plan, perhaps only a plan a foolish old man would come up with, but a plan none the less.

Dontas entered the grand hall for the Crowning Ritual. He wore full gilded armour made by the greatest Dwarfven blacksmiths in the kingdom and with his late fathers twin axes hung at his side Dontas was a sight to behold. Resting atop is long greying hair was the Crown of Elmore. Sitting in the throne surrounded by his father, mother and siblings was Katto Kulgran, the boy who would be king. The throne is not yours yet, was all Dontas could think as he walked towards him.

Dontas, the Kulgran family and the royal high priest where the only people in the hall. They only people allowed by right to be present during the final acts of the ceremony.

The Kulgrans grinned as Dontas took a knee in front of the fifteen-year-old Katto.

“Hand me my crown old man” spat Katto. The other Kulgrans laughed at this. They had been greedily waiting since Vance had passed to take the crown.

It was now or never. Dontas took one last look at Katto.

“I shall see you soon boy” Dontas whispered as he pulled the shimmering blue vial from a pouch at his waist.

Before anyone could react the vial had smashed on the floor, a massive cloud of blue smoke swirled the room, in an instant and with a sound like the in take of breathe before a leap the smoke vanished. As had Dontas.

As Dontas blinked his eyes open letting them adjust to the searing sunlight beating down on him. He stood in the desert; on the horizon was the great city of Saal, the city seemed to pulsate as the heat rose from the desert floor.

Dontas was a long way from Elmore, but all he could think of was his return, and the army of foreign warriors he would bring with him to keep the throne that truly belonged to young prince Vance.

#10 Lisha Okoro – The Map

| November 10, 2012 | 0 Comments

Lisha Okoro was a well respected and liked priest in her small community in Nigeria. She was kind hearted and caring and easy to like. She lived a quiet, peaceful life and was content. That was until the comet came.

After the events, now dubbed ‘The Rune Awakening’ Lisha is a hunted woman, always on the run.

The comet burned the sky for a second and the god runes power was stirred. Lisha’s church had been sent a rune as it traveled the globe so all the churches of her country could behold it. It was in her safe keeping when it awoke.

Washing over her body the pale blue light of the rune absorbed into her. It granted her insight. The runes energy made it so Lisha could pass her hand over anything and see something others couldn’t. If she passed her hand over a pregnant woman she would tell the sex of the child, pass if over an apple and she could tell the location of the tree it came from.

It is not for these gifts that she is hunted. It is for what Lisha can see when she passes her hand over a map that makes her the prize so many are after. Because when Lisha uses insight over a map of any kind she can see where all the other runes are, if they have been absorbed and if the original rune stone is still with the host.

Lisha Okoro is the map to power.

Day 08: Dangalf Copperfelt

| November 9, 2012 | 0 Comments

Day 07: Snidely Shambles

| November 9, 2012 | 2 Comments

#9 Leon Rodin

| November 9, 2012 | 0 Comments

They started to find them in the early months of 2010. The first one was discovered in an ancient Mayan temple. Over the coming weeks they where found in the ruins of a Roman church, in a safe in the captains cabin onboard the sunken Titanic, even clutched tightly in the skeletal arms of a Neanderthal man. To date one hundred and sixty eight of these artefacts have been uncovered.

They are called known by many different names. Most countries and religious have their own thoughts and feelings towards the relics and as such name them for themselves. The most widely used term is ‘The god Runes’.

Triangular in shape the god Runes appeared to be made from some form of rock, but every test came back with nothing, the material had no match to anything seen my man before. The same went for the strange markings on the artefacts, the symbols where familiar across all one hundred and sixty eight runes but shared nothing in common with any written or spoken language on earth.

Many people have taken to studying the Runes. One such person is Leon Rodin.

Leon was a successful art historian, before the first god Rune was found. Now nearly three years later he is the owner of three of the runes, in huge debt because of this, he dedicates himself to uncovering their secrets. Locked away in his London apartment he doesn’t sleep and barely eats, his eyes grow dark and his beard thick as he toils to uncover the runes mysterious.

Falling asleep at his desk after a week of no rest Leon missed what the rest of the world witnessed. A comet so close to the earth that it lit the night sky as if on fire. It had gone as quickly as it had appeared, leaving astronomers perplexed. The moment it passed all one hundred and sixty eight runes began to faintly glow. Something had been awoken in them.

Red, blue and green light started to fill Leon’s small apartment as his runes lit up, the light waking him from his sleep. Shocked and enthralled in equal measure he reached out to the now red rune. Searing pain shot through his arm, he screamed in anguish as his whole body surged and shook. Just like the comet the pain had gone as quickly as it had appeared.

The rune was no longer glowing, but Leon was. He felt strange, powerful, excited beyond belief. He looked at the other two glowing runes and reached out to them both. As his body convulsed he engulfed the other two runes, he smirked as a thought struck him. One hundred and sixty five runes where still out there.

Day Six: Amorveous (Amy)

| November 9, 2012 | 0 Comments

Two minutes, that was quick, indeed — a new record. Where once piping hot pudding and melting mountains of ice cream slouched were now faint streaks of creamy, crumbly, residue of dessert and regret. Amy finished polishing the bowl with her tongue — don’t ask where the mouth is — until the, now cool, ceramic surface tasted more of object and less of desire.
This jaunt into flavour country would mean a lot of mirror-gazing but damn, the descent into self doubt was tasty.
~Tosche

#8 Anya Volkov

| November 8, 2012 | 0 Comments

Doctor Ivan Volkov, the renowned Russian scientist, was one of the few people left studying the theory of parallel universes. He was hoping to be the first to prove their existence. Pushing his experiments past any legally safe protocols he was forced to work in secret, in his basement laboratory at his home.

The lab was a mess, half fished experiments and inventions lying across his worktables and floor never to be completed, as he feverishly worked away on a device to produce a portal capable of opening an inter-dimensional wormhole.

Ivan was putting the final touches to the experimental device when it misfired. A bright crimson doorway was being projected mere feet from the Doctor. He was over come with joy. After all of his hard work, it had actually worked.

A shadow appeared in the doorway. A parallel version of Ivan Volkov stepped through; he was flanked either side by humanoid robots.

“Do not mind my guards Doctor, they are simply here to ensure you come with me.” Exclaimed the doppelganger of Ivan. This version of him had a cruel face, twisted by some kind of burn and half covered in metal to replace the parts lost by fire.

The robotic guards grabbed Ivan, knocking him. They dragged him towards the crimson doorway. As the doppelganger turned to follow them he noticed the small fragile frame of Ivan’s daughter, Anya at the base of the stairs leading out of the lab.

Drawing what can only be described as a ray gun from a holster the doppelganger took aim at Anya. She was brave and did not flinch or look away. Time seemed to slow as he pulled the trigger; green energy erupted from the gun. A backpack sat on the table began to unpack itself. Before the energy blast could strike Anya the backpack and twisted and shifted into a robot very similar to that of the Doppelgangers guards.

The blast bounced off of the robots chest, ricocheting into the portal device.

“Damn.” Screamed the doppelganger as the portal began to close, he leapt back through it.

Anya looked up to the robot that had protected her with wonder in her eyes.

“We need to rescue my father.” Anya said with a great deal of confidence for one so one.

“I am to protect you, young miss Anya. That is all.”

Anya smiled.

“Well protected me then.” She exclaimed as she dove through the nearly closed portal.

Her new guardian followed her loyally as the doorway closed behind them.

No7

| November 7, 2012 | 1 Comment

#7-The Montana Monsoon

| November 7, 2012 | 0 Comments

Tony - The Montana Monsoon

No6

| November 6, 2012 | 1 Comment

#6 Akako Yamauchi

| November 6, 2012 | 0 Comments

The passenger starship the Ninsun II was on its return flight back to earth when a miscalculation in its flight route sent it into a meteor shower just outside of Mars orbit. The ship took heavy damage and was pulled down on to the red planet. Somehow the youngest person on the flight of thousands, thirteen-year-old Akako Yamauchi was the sole survivor.

Encasing her body in a space suit and filling her backpack with a solar flashlight and all the supplies she could find Akako left the ship in search of help.

Mars had a number of tiny settlements on it, but no more than five hundred people on the entire planet, she search was almost in vain.

After nearly a day of walking she came across an excavation site, a small but abandoned camp at the base of a massive red mountain. A tunnelling operation had been underway, the tunnel was the only place that still had a functioning air filtration unit so was Akako’s salvation.

She took refuge in the tunnel; finally being able to remove her space suit and breath in some pure air, well as pure as filtration units can produce.

Bedding down for the night in the bed of an old drill team member, Akako was woken from her sleep by a sudden sound coming up the tunnel. It sounded like someone was calling to her in a language she didn’t even know. She was drawn to the call and found herself moving further and further into the tunnel, into the mountain.

Her flashlight, her only source of light guided her down and down until she entered a vast cavern. Crystal clear water poured from outlets in the side off the cavern wall and formed a natural pool, a tiny island of red land sprouted from the serine water at its centre, light filled the cavern from a number of strange glowing crystals in the walls, the light seemed to somehow spotlight the island. Akako was still being called, called to the island.

Placing her flashlight down she swim out to it. Dripping wet she walked across the island, her footprints sinking into the soft sand. At the heart of the cave resting on a pedestal of rock was a mask. It was a deep shade of red with white markings over it. The mask appeared to be the perfect size for Akako, fitting her face flawlessly.

Akako was no longer being called. Akako was home. The old inhabitants of Mars rose from their slumber in the cavern to join their new Queen. To join Queen Akako, ruler of Mars and all that comes with it.

Day Five: Bodey Socksmon

| November 6, 2012 | 0 Comments

Scruffy. Itchy skin under tight tufts of fur. Exasperated, exhausted, extinguished. With a yawn he is all these things and yet as he pulls up a cup, burgeoning on boiling hot, to his mouth and tips in a hot and sweet morning elixir, wipes from his mouth the sticky residue and caffeinated skin, he is for a moment none of these things. He ponders his first conscious thought since he and the sun rose — to shit or shave — and his day is begun.
~Tosche

No5

| November 5, 2012 | 0 Comments

#5 Darius Braken.

| November 5, 2012 | 0 Comments

The Darkwood glen is said to be a god-forsaken place to dwell in. Haunted by long since dead spirits and things even worse still. However legend tells of a great and precious crystal that only forms in a cave at the very heart of the glen, a crystal that has many wonderful and magnificent properties.

It is this legend that sees hundreds of adventurers; thieves and mercenaries enter the glen everyday in such of the fabled crystals. Most never return, the few who do are never the same. They return with haunted eyes and tales of creatures born of men and beast that guard the glen from any who trespass.

Darius Braken is one of these ‘creatures’ in trust he is but a man, like all of the Glen Guards, they are the sworn protectors of the crystal cave and their small community that lives in and around it.

The Guard know the glen better than any man or creature to walk the earth and can come from any shadow or corner of the great wood. The glen guard all wear the fur and scales of the beasts that dwell with them in their woodland home. Most forge helms with antlers or horns to add to the fearsome look of their armour. Darius wears the fur of a giant wolf as a cloak, the scales of a tree drake as mailed armour and the antlers of a rock stag a top his helm. He is one of the oldest and most respected guards amongst his village and one of the most feared and talked of ‘creatures’ by the few men who have escaped him.