I’m Back

Well, I am more or less. I’m still dealing with some lingering illness (I have horrible problems with dizziness and caught a chest cold in the meantime). I am feeling better than I was. The holidays are a terrible time to have any kind of illness.

So, what does that mean?

That means content. That means that I will try to get out my impressions of Final Fantasy XIV Fan Fest. I have a new story that I’m itching to start. It’s something I’m kind of excited about. I have a lot more of the story I’ve written to share.

I do want to write the end of the year post that I didn’t quite get to last week, so if you’ll humour me, I would like to write it. I also picked up a new Vita… and finally get a chance to play Persona 4: the Golden. I’ll write a bit about that.

What else is there?

There’s Comic Con and Fanime coming up, plus an event called Rockage that I’ll also be writing about… and so much more. What all that is, I’m not entirely sure as of yet. Talking about anime and manga as well as video games are a definite.

So, I’m back. I’m going to try to write more. I just hope that I don’t get sick again. I know that’s asking a lot, but it’s a goal I can go for. Who knows what this year will bring?

The Increasingly Misnamed Short Story (AKA, This is A Not-So-Short Story, pt. 34): We Keep On Truckin’ On

Curious about more of this story? Want to start from the beginning? Just want to read more?

Go here to catch up or go back and start all over again.

As before, this is copyright Emily Rush on date of publication and writing. All rights reserved. Yada yada yada. Blah blah blah.

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“I… I think I get what you’re saying. And a party of me would entertain the idea… But…”, he responds.

“I know. This is really quick You haven’t even given an answer to me yet and here I am proposing that we make-out.”, the boy adds.

He nods.

“I don’t want to go to bed in such a sexually charged situation either. It’s not exactly the most comfortable way to fall asleep.”, he says.

He looks down at the floor. He realizes that this feels just as awkward as the first time their boyfriend came over to his house in high school. Even though he was focused only on his boyfriend, he still wasn’t sure if it was going to happen. In some ways this is very much like that situation. He’s still not sure if he was interested in dating the boy… and yet here it is. Does he do this or not? If anything it will certainly resolve the situation.

He crosses his arms and taps his foot on the floor.

“Well, there’s only really going to be one way to resolve this situation, isn’t there.”, he says, still thinking about it.

“Unfortunately, this is all I can think of. He both wants to do the threesome and is scared to…”, the boy says, “I will not take what happens tonight as a confirmation that you want to date me. I want that to be something that you decide on your own.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to…”, he responds, “It’s more that the thought had never entered my head. You’ve always been more focused on him.”

He sighs heavily.

“I appreciate that you wouldn’t take anything that happens tonight as an answer.”, he says, “Maybe we should just do it. It would certainly solve any doubts he has. Or I could just sleep on the couch. I used to do it so many times before…”

The boy shakes his head. He knew that there was always the possibility of someone taking the couch, at the same time their boyfriend did ask to sleep with both. It also seemed unfair that he should give up sleeping in the bed to make things easier.

“I had thought about that, but the request was for both of us in bed with him.”, the boy says.

“I know…”, he says with a sigh, “Well, then… Lets do it.”

The boy steps closer to him. He gently caresses his arm.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, the boy asks.
He nods He isn’t sure that this is a great idea, but it would certainly answer quite a few questions.

The boy wraps his arms around him. He can feel the boy’s flesh on his. It feel strange, but not unpleasant. The boys hands gently caress his back and he can feel his breath on his neck.

“Thank you.”, the boy whispers as he kisses the lobe of his ear.

The Increasingly Misnamed Short Story (AKA, This is A Not-So-Short Story, pt. 32): Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit’s Baaaaaaack

New to this story? Forgotten what has happened before? Just want to read it all again?

You can find all the previous parts here.

This story is copyright Emily Rush on date of publishing. All rights reserved. Yada yada yada.
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He sighs again as he looks down. He looks at the mirror again, at his mostly naked form. He shakes his head and faces the door. He opens it up and walks back to the bedroom.

His boyfriend is still clothed, sitting on the bed, patiently waiting for him to leave the bathroom. The boy is lounging next to him wearing only his underwear.

“Are you going to tease us all night…”, he says, standing in front of his boyfriend wearing only his underwear.

“That’s precisely what I was wondering.”, the boy says, his hand gently caressing their boyfriend’s leg.

His boyfriend gulps hard. This sounded like a great idea at the time, but now… Now he wanted both of them. Seeing both of his boys stripped down to their undergarments was hot.

“Hot…”, his boyfriend thought, “That would be putting it lightly. This is such a sexually charged scene. I am so fucking turned on right now.”

His boyfriend turns beet red as he attempts to bury his head in his crotch. His boyfriend wraps his arms around his hips. He holds him tight.

He looks at the boy with a perplexed face. He then looks down at his boyfriend’s head, buried securely in his crotch. He wasn’t sure if he should be thrilled for this to happen or what. It was awkward as this is something that he wanted earlier today, but not to the embarrassment of anyone.

He looks at the boy again.

“Well… I’m at a loss at what to do…”, he says.

“I know, right?”, the boy responds.

He stands up and walks over to him. He puts a hand on his shoulder.

When the boy’s hand touched him, his body tensed up a bit. His ambivalence showed in that action. He felt bad, because he still wasn’t sure if he wanted to be with the boy.

“Don’t worry.”, the boy whispers in his ear, “I just asked you tonight.”

The boy let his hand wander down his back to rest on top of their boyfriend’s arms.

He gulps hard finding himself in an impossibly erotic situation. He knows that he would joke about a threesome with these two boys… but now it seems like it might actually happen. While he could easily joke about it, does he feel ready for it to actually happen?

He closes his eyes. He tries to think of nothing, but he’s not sure that’s possible. He feels himself getting aroused again. He feels the boy’s body close to him, his hand resting on his ass. His boyfriend’s head is still buried in his crotch.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispers.

It’s the only thing he can think of is to whisper, “I’m sorry”.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”, the boy whispers in his ear again.

Of Monsters and Men, pt. 7

Wondering about this story? Just getting here? Wonder what happened before? Want to catch up?

Well, you can find previous installments here and here.

As before, this piece in copyright Emily Rush on day of writing and publishing. All rightss reserved. Yada yada yada.
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He holds his lance tensely in his hands. He knows that this isn’t the wisest of ideas, but he doesn’t see that he has any other choice.

He realizes that the beast is trying to focus and stare at him, but is failing to do so because he is too close to its eyes.

He once again tightly grasps his lance, ready to give out another battle shout.

Before he realizes it, he’s shouting and plunging the tip of his lance in to the creature’s eye. He continues to force the lance as far in to the beast’s head as he can. He can feel the white gelatinous warmth of the material that was once the eye. He can small the blood as the lance starts to plunge past the ocular cavity.

He feels the lance once again hit something that’s not resisting, but it also not muscle or bone. He feels his lance plunge deep in to the beast’s brain.

The creature lets out a tortured and pained cry as its body can no longer propel itself. Just as quickly as it started charging, it comes to a complete halt. It slides to the ground, throwing him with it.

He lies on the ground for a bit, in a daze. He’s not sure how long he’s been lying there. The last thing he remembers is the beast going down.

He checks his body to see if there are any broken bones or other serious damage to himself. From the cursory check, he can’t see anything.

“This is what I get,” he thinks, “This is what I get for doing this without a healer.”

He sits up in the snow, looking at the prone beast. He tries to stand up finding it challenging. Once he is on his feet again, he tries to dust off the snow.

Try as he might, the snow sticks in every corner and angle of his armor.

He approaches the beast, seeing that its breathing is very shallow. He attempts to grab his lance from the huge skull, but realizes that it’s too slick with gore for him to be able to pull it from the eye.

While he has done nothing but wish death to this creature, a part of him feels guilty for letting the beast suffer so. He can’t offer it a quick death. He stands sentinel over the beast as he slowly dies. Each breath becoming more labored, a whimpering sound with each breath.

And then it happens, quiet. It’s as though the lesser beasts are observing a moment of silence for their fallen comrade.

He lowers his head and takes a moment before it starts to set in that he finally killed this beast. There will be no more destroyed families and razed villages. And while he should feel at peace, he’s feeling something entirely different.

Nothing.

As badly as he wanted to kill this beast, he’s surprised by the fact that he feels numb. He searches both his brain and heart to see if there’s any sense of elation or victory. The harder he searches, the more he feels empty.

His shoulders slump with the knowledge that while he spent months stalking this creature, that its death means nothing to him. He turns on one heel and stalks off through the snow. Maybe it’s not today that he will feel victory, but he will continue to fight until that elusive feeling comes back to him.

Perhaps it will come back one day… Perhaps.

 

Of Monsters and Men, pt. 6

New to this story? Don’t remember how we got here? Wondering what’s up?

You can catch the previous installment plus links to even earlier installments here.

As previously stated, this story is copyright Emily Rush on the date of writing and publishing… yada yada yada.
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He lets out another battle shout as he plunges his lance in to the beast’s neck. He can feel skin and muscle part underneath the keen point of his spear. He knows that this is just the beginning of a long and arduous battle. He’s not sure who will be the victor though. Will he live or will he die? These are thoughts that didn’t enter his head until now. And even though they pop in to his thoughts while fighting, he doesn’t pay them much mind. Just fleeting contemplations that appear momentarily and then disappear back in to the aether of his brain.

The creature bellows in pain. The first wound has been struck in this war.

In the background, he could hear the various chirruping of the surrounding creatures reacting to the pain of this creature.

He instantly blocks it out as he maintains his firm grip on his weapon as it’s still plunged in to the beast’s neck. It helps him stay on the back as the creature below him reels back a little.

He uses the stability of his lance in the beast’s neck to jump over to his head. As his feet hit the hard bone of this creatures skull, he struggles to pull the weapon out. He didn’t realize that the muscles would be so taught and tense. With a hard, swift jerk he manages to free his lance from the creatures neck. A plume of blood spurts out from where the lance once existed.

He starts looking for another vulnerable spot to attack the beast. He sees nothing from the top of the head.

“Shit.”, he says as he realizes that vulnerable spots here are in the beasts face.

He closes his eyes for a moment as he continues to ride on the head.

“Must think. Must think.”, races through his mind as he ponders some other way.

He shakes his head.

There’s only one solution…”, he thinks as he slowly makes his way down to the beast’s muzzle.

Of Monsters and Men, pt. 5

New to this story? Wondering what happened before? Forgot how we got here?

Well, I have a way for you to go back to the beginning of the story. You can find them here, here, here and here.

And as before… This piece is copyright Emily Rush on day of writing and publication. All rights reserved. Yada yada yada.
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A chill wind caresses his face as he looks over his shoulder. It’s almost as thought the wind was originating from a cave… one that he hadn’t noticed before in his patrolling. It was cold and feeling like stone. It had the smell of rock, blood and other odors that he couldn’t begin to describe. They all intermingled.

It was then that he noticed that the sound of the lesser beasts had silenced.

“How could I have been so careless to not notice?”, he thought as his blood started to run cold.

He heard a loud and heavy huff behind him. His eyes opened wide in recognition that he was no longer alone… and that he was noticed.

He takes a moment to control his racing thoughts. One after another, they speak of his hopes and fears, weaknesses and strengths. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, breathing in the heady odor that is this massive creature behind him.

He slowly turns around to face him.

“There you are.”, he says as calmly as he can muster.

The beast stares at him, almost as though he recognizes him. His glare is cold and menacing… and yet seems to burn with an anger that has burned for many lifetimes, how many is anyone’s guess.

In that instant, the creature rushes forward, every muscle and sinew in his body tense.

He manages to deftly jump out-of-the-way just before he would have been plowed by this beast… this behemoth of a creature. He can feel the wind and the strength as the wind rushes past him.

The creature turns around and bellows. The sound nearly freezes him to his very core. Images of towns and villages being wiped out by this creature flash in his mind. The deaths of children, parents, partners, husbands and wives burn freshly in his psyche… almost as though it happened yesterday. His passion and vigor for this fight is renewed.

He holds his lance, prepared to strike. Remembering everything that brought him to where he is today. Remembering everything that brought him to this fight.

“Come on, you son of a bitch.”, he mutters as he rares up, ready to sprint headlong at this creature.

And after a quick breath, he runs headlong at the beast. He screams with the scream of all the victims, all the pain and suffering that this creature has caused. He runs and jumps over the head of the beast, using his lance as a pole.

He lands firmly on the beasts back. Beneath his feet, he can feel the tenseness of this creatures neck and back. He can feel each muscle move as the creature moves.

He flips his lance around and gets a firm grip on the shaft. He wants to make sure that he can plunge this weapon purposefully in to this neck in front of him.

Of Monsters and Madness, pt. 4

Just stumbling upon this story? want to know how we got here? Go check out the pervious 2 installments here and here.

Just as with everything on this blog, this story is copyright Emily Rush on the day of publication. All rights reserved… yada yada yada.
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He shakes his head like a child with a snow globe, attempting to shake those memories loose from his brain. It’s a moment that chilled him to his very core, the split-second where he failed to act.

But that was only for a split-second.

His fingers curled instinctively around the cold metal shaft of his lance. He pulled it out of its resting spot in the snow with the sound of crunching snow on metal. He’ll never let a moment like that happen again. He’ll never have such an unfortunate lase in judgment happen again. It’s those lapses in which people die, towns destroyed. It’s something he can no longer let happen again.

He ponders these thoughts as he hears the hard crunch of the snow beneath his feet. The rhythmic crunch, crunch, crunch of the snow beneath his feet starts to drown out the thoughts of the massacre and lulls him in to a kind of meditation. His mind calms. It is no longer racing through all the horrendous thoughts that it was earlier.

He stops and takes a deep breath. His nose is filled with the scent of various beasts. Most of the smells are common of the ones that tend to frequent this area, the various sprites and rodents, occasionally there might be a baby drake. Underneath the common smells of the area is a bloodier, muskier smell. The scent of the creature he seeks.

“Ha!”, he thinks, “I might get him yet.”

He lets out a chuckle as he takes a little jog until his muscles fatigue. The weight of his armor pushing him further in to the snow, leaving heavy foot prints behind. If one was to track him, he would be quite easy to find. Thankfully he is the hunter and not the hunt.

Once he tires, he takes a moment. His breath heavy, creating steam rising like smoke from a dragon. It almost seems proper given the title of what he does, dragoon.

Suddenly he realizes the thickness of the air. It sits heavy on him. He thinks he knows this feeling before. Can this really be the day? How long has it really been? Days? Weeks? Months? How long has it been? How much time has passed? When was the last time he noticed this air, heavy and thick?

Did I climb higher than I meant? He’s never seen the beast travel this high. While the area is largely mountainous, he’s never seen him start to hit the snowy peaks of this ice-cold wasteland where there isn’t a lot of natural life. The higher up you go, the less hospitable it is.

While the air felt heavy and oppressive, it also felt alive with a certain amount of electricity.

He stands up and looks around, trying to take in his surroundings; seeing if he could find his quarry. The more he looks, the more he only sees the vast fields of white before him. And while the pureness of the snow should be somewhat comforting, it also feels largely unnerving.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it of any negative thoughts. Something feels different about today. It feels as though something’s going to happen today.

He takes a deep breath of the bitter cold air. It feels crisp inside his nose.

“Today… Yes.”, he thinks, “Today will be the day.”

Monday, Monday…

Here we are again at Monday. So, what was happening last week?

I was busy mostly with job interviews. Every time I was going to designate writing time or putting together posts for the day, I was waylaid by an interview.

This is not at all bad. I need to get a new job yesterday, so I’m taking all interviews. I’m glad to be getting them. It does, however, make me posting regularly a problem. As much as I love to write, it doesn’t pay the bills. While I would love to just write for the rest of my life, the reality of the situation is that until it pays, I must have a regular job.

So, what would I love to cover this week (and am hoping to actually get to do so)?
Comic Con. I want to put out more of my Comic Con posts. I have so much more to talk about and show. It was an interesting weekend and it’s about time. I would also love to put out more fiction. I’ve been working on more things. I also have a post I’ve ruminated about touching on suicide. It’s not something that’s easy to talk about or read, but it is something that needs to be talked about.

So, that’s what I have on deck. I hope you are looking forward to reading it as much as I’m looking forward to writing about it.

Until later!

The Increasingly Misnamed Short Story (AKA, This is A Not-So-Short Story, pt. 28): Wait, There’s More?

Computer problems are now solved by a brand-spanking new computer. I;m readt to bring more exciting writing adventures in the future.

So, back to the “short story”. Wondering how we got this far? Wanting to see more? You can check out all of the previous installations of the story right here.

As before, this story is copyright Emily Rush on 24.April.2014. All rights reserved. Yada yada yada.
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His boyfriend grins sheepishly and says, “Th-thank you…”

He rests his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He closes his eyes for a moment feeling the warmth of his boyfriend’s body. He could feel his shoulder through the shirt, those strong shoulders that lead into his boyfriend’s slender back. He started to think of his boyfriend naked as he sighs.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head. As much as he wants his boyfriend, he’s going to have to be patient. That’s a boundary that’s been made very clear tonight. At least nothing can happen while the boy is here…

“And then there’s the boy…”, he starts to think,”I…”

He looks at his boyfriend talking to the boy. His boyfriend chuckles.

“What do I think of the boy? I’m not really sure. For the longest time I thought all the flirtatious comments were more to wind-up our boyfriend… But was it just that? Was it something more?”, he continues to think.

The boy and his boyfriend both reach out a hand to him. He looks at both hands. He sighs again.

“To bed?”, the boy asks.

He nods as he takes both of their hands. The boy’s hand feels stronger than he thought it would. While the boy’s hands look more delicate, they felt powerful. It took him aback for a moment. For the life of him, he had no idea why he had always assumed that his delicate looking hands would mean a delicate grip. Perhaps that was a trick of his perception. Given his boyfriend’s looks, he should know better.

“Yes, let’s.”, he says in response.

They both throw an arm around his shoulders. He can feel both of their bodies on either side of him. His boyfriend’s slender yet well-muscled body and the boy’s simply slender body. He had never thought about what the boy’s body felt like. He assumed that it was similar to his boyfriend’s. It was a bit surprising. He took a moment to think about what it felt like next to him. It wasn’t the familiar warmth and strength that he has always gotten from his boyfriend. It had its own warmth, its own movement. While it was foreign to him, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He wasn’t sure if it it was comfortable or just weird.

“Oh, I just thought about something…”, he asked, “ So, how are we sleeping tonight?”

His boyfriend and the boy both looked at him and then at each other.

“I h-hadn’t th-thought a-about that…”, his boyfriend said, his face starting to redden.

“Well, that is a good question…”, the boy said, “I presume you both sleep nude when you’re together, correct?”

His boyfriend quickly nodded as he focused on the ground. How could this boy be so bashful about sex when he has always been equally voracious about it before. It almost reminded him of that bashful, quiet and shy boy he met back in high school. The same boy who he kissed all those years ago in his bedroom.

(To be continued)

Of Monsters and Madness, pt. 3

Missed the first two parts? You can find them here and here.

This story is copyright Emily Rush, 18.April.2014. All rights reserved. Yadayadayada.
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He grabs is lance and begins the trudge through the snow.

Crunch.

Crunch.

Crunch.

His footfall breaks the freshly laid snow. He is the lone beacon of humanity in this godforsaken place. He knows that others will inquire if there has been any sign of the beast. He’s not sure if the asking is out of sincere interest or to mock him as he stands lone sentinel in the cold and snow, waiting patiently.

He sighs deeply, taking in some of the ice-cold air. He shivers a moment as he takes another step forward. It’s a daily vigil where he stands guard.

He looks up to the sky, what was grey and drab the day before has become a brilliant blue and bright with the long absent sun that he’d been missing for many a day. The snow’s surface reflects the light like a brilliant frosted mirror making this otherwise drab canyon vibrant. For the first time in… well, sometime as he couldn’t quite recall when, he heard the chirp of birds, awakened from their chilly and dark slumber into this vibrant bright winter morning.

He sticks his spear in to the snow. It was much deeper than he thought it was. He didn’t remember it being so deep the day before.

“It must have been quite the snowfall last night..”, he aloud to himself.

He sucks in some more of the frigid air as he thinks about if he missed the creature again last night. Once again his brain raced, trying to think if he might have missed any clue, any bit of visual information as to whether the beast had moved in the night. His eyes dart back and forth looking for any little clue, any shred of evidence that this creature did indeed still live in this cave.

No matter how hard he searched, he found nothing. Just the pristine white snow marred only by his footfalls. He couldn’t recall any bellows in the middle of the night, no sounds of loud crunching… everything he recalled when the beast had stirred and reared his gruesome head, baring red, barbed fangs and acrid breath, everything that stirred fear in men. It was a brutal day of carnage, one that he had never experienced before or since.