Your own Obituary

“What the hell?” Jack thought to himself as he read the article.

“Jack Falorn, 22, died last Thursday due to unknown circumstances”

He put down the newspaper, and whipped out his cell phone.

“I’m getting to the bottom of this bullshit” he said as he dialed the newspaper’s number.

After a few rings he was connected with an operator.

"Hello, my name is Thomas, how may I help you?"

“Hey, my name is Jack Falorn, and you put an obituary in your newspaper of my death, but like, I’m not dead, and its my picture and everything in the paper”

There were a few moments of silence, then the operator responded with “Oh my sir, we are very sorry to hear that, that article was meant for next Friday’s paper” and then the line went dead.

Vakarian Backstory

Vakarian rushed to the aid of the queen when he was called upon. Always. But this time something was different. His head felt fuzzy as he ran out to fight the exterminator battlemages, but he continued on. He was a protector drone; the best of the drones in his hive. He may have been about the size of a small child, but he could take hits as if he were made of steel.

The battlemages had started raining fire on the hive, and Vakarian was there to meet them. His tough exterior made the spells splash off of him, and he continued walking towards the mages to attack them with his mandibles. He managed to get 2 wizards before his head felt like it was going to explode from the pain. His queen was telling him to run, that it was over for the hive. The searing pain forced its way into Vakarian's body, and he fled. Now he travels, looking for a new queen to call his own.

That was my DnD backstory for a bug character I made in like 15 minutes. It sucks lol.

Poems bro

The darkness rekindles his curious spirit

Wishfully he takes each stride farther

Into the deep dark that is the night

And in that moment, he is truly home

I watch with unwavering eyes

Fleeting from face to face

I try to make up their story

To say why they are here, now

But in the end, I’m always left thinking

“To others, what’s my story?”

Your eyes begin to sway

Their lids coming down, with no sign of stopping

You black out, but only for a moment

And when you arrive, you can do anything

Everything is so fluid and real

But when you awake, it fades away in an instant

A dying city, with the decaying population

No pride in their work, only working on their pride

None wish to live here, they all want to leave

And I had the good fortune to be born here

But I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

Their words, I glare at

Their advances, I repel

Their attempts, I block

You alone, I defend

If I stop, that means I don’t love you.

The memories, they wont fade away that quickly

The good times we had together

But I’m slowly getting better at forgetting all those times

It is finally time to create new ones instead

I look below me, but I see nothing

In the dark abyss, I hear no sound

That is what worries me the most

For when I finally touch what is below me, I will already be doomed

Nobody can see me anymore, but I prefer it this way

To be unseen is a blessing in a blessing

I don’t want their damning eyes on me

But I want to see what happens, behind those closed doors

Each one has a reason for being written, well, more like they are all about something specific. The 1st is about the night, the last is about being invisible. Anyways, sorry for the lack of updates, hope you enjoy these faggy poems I wrote :D

I made a movie with my friends

Its jank, but it's getting uploaded Monday or Tuesday, and I will definitively post a link here as soon as its in! :D

"The Beginning of the Past"

Ralk was eating supper when the mortar hit, causing the wall to his house to crumble down, and sending Ralk flying backwards.

"What sorcery is this!?" he yelled as he leaped up, grabbing his longsword in the process.

He exited his home through the newly-fashioned hole in it and saw the rest of his small town getting hit by shells. As he looked around he saw other homes blown apart, with people getting sent every which way with each blast.

Prognar run up to Ralk and yelled "Quick Ralk! With me! We are formulating a counterattack!"

Ralk ran with Prognar, while saying "What is this madness!?"

Prognar was puzzled himself, and replied "It seems the gods are angry with us!" as he was running.

They came up to the village center where a group of warriors were gathered, restless and eager for their leader to order them to attack. Prognar and Ralk joined the group, and their leader began speaking.

"We must fight, brothers!" he yelled as he thrust his sword into the air, "For Odiiiiiiiiiin!"

At that signal everyone ran toward the woods where the mysterious enemy lied in wait. Mortars were still exploding everywhere, men and beast alike were getting blown away, yet they continued onward. Seven of Eight iron clad warriors stepped out of the forest; silent, still, unmoving. The mortars were still picking off the warriors, with one exploding to Prognar's right, blowing him and Ralk backwards.

Ralk couldnt hear anything as he got up, and was dizzy as well. He stumbled over to Prognar, who was torn in half. He reached down and grabbed Prognar's necklace, snapped it off and holding it in his fist. He looked at one of the iron clad men, raised his sword above his head, and began his charge.

The man raised a weapon and popped off two rounds into Ralk's chest, but that didn't slow his frenzy down at all. With a mighty yell he closed the gap between them and sent his sword down with the most force he could muster. His sword came down, and Ralk felt as the blade cracked with a satisfying chink. Ralk looked in horror as his sword simply bounced off of the man's shoulder, and was punched in the face by the mans right hand, knocking Ralk down.

The iron man walked up to Ralk and said "Resilient little fuckers"

Ralk was fading in and out of consciousnesses at that point, and opened his eyes to see the warriors' weapon aimed at his face. A single shot went off. The war for the past had begun.