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A Bit of Writing
It was suggested writing a small short story because today was a spare day in the current Ni90 round. So here's mine. Feel free to critique as viciously as you'd like as long as it's constructive, I can handle it and could probably use the advice. ;)
“Next time, I’ll make sure you don’t arrive in the nick of time, Heroes,” a man’s voice echoed over the ruins. It didn’t sound defeated, or angry, or irritated. It didn’t sound smug, or amused, or vindictive. Mastermind never showed those kinds of emotions. No, it was the way he sounded certain, confident, and, most of all, simply polite that always made Riddle want to tear her hair out. “Cheerio,”, and there was a slight sucking sound as whatever contraption he was using to project his voice ceased to function. Knowing Mastermind, it had dissolved in to a puddle of goo, or blown up – silently – or in some other fashion completely ceased to function. Mastermind was in some ways very predictable. Of course, it was the ways in which he was utterly unpredictable that made him dangerous, that had enabled him to conduct his evil business successfully for so long. Team Transverse knew only too well how dangerous he could be.
“I guess he’s gone,” Strong rose out of his fighting stance, apparently oblivious to the ruins of automata that surrounded him, the robots he had battled while the attack went on. “You don’t think this is one of those times he’s only pretending to be defeated and the real threat is actually going to go off in about a minute, right?”
Riddle closed her eyes in concentration. Focus on her own mind, focus on her own thoughts, understand what could be encompassed within her, and by so doing, understand that which was without. It was a sign of how tired she was after the battle that she had to go through those motions. When was the last time she had truly had to consciously go through those steps? She quashed the distracting thought. With a nonexistent flash, a light that would have been blinding if it hadn’t all been in her head, everything came into alignment, and she was able to perceive all the minds in the area.
It wasn’t pleasant. Her teammates were pillars of strength near her, for all that each was tired and Willow seemed to be on the verge of weeping – she must have been hurt worse than she had been letting on, for Riddle had seen no sign of pain through her normal senses. Cyber was stretching himself just as Riddle was, straining, looking for the tell tale signs of the devices that were the Mastermind’s signature. The bonds between the four of them were strong, and their trust was unswerving, and it gave her strength just to be near them. Beyond that, though, was chaos. Her ears could still hear the silence that permeated the real world after Mastermind’s words, but her powers revealed the turmoil that was masked. All around them, people were terrified. People were in pain. People were hiding, running, confused. They demanded to know what was going on, but were too afraid to venture out and learn for themselves. A few brave souls were more fortified, were ready to fight, but they too reeked of fear, not knowing what the enemy was, not knowing when the silence might shatter, not knowing what they could do to against the mechanical enemies or if there were foes they could even face, not knowing what had happened to set off this chaos. Riddle wanted to help them all. She soothed the mind of a child who seemed to be unable to think of anything at all; she calmed an elderly man frantic with concern for his wife – she’s over there, Riddle suggested with a slight mental push, sending him towards an equally elderly woman who had stumbled while running and was unable to get up. No, she reminded herself, she was too tired to let her attention wander, it was too important to be sure for her to allow distractions to ascertain whether there was still a lingering threat. The minds of those who worked with Mastermind were always distinct. The man himself almost never came to confrontations – he said such brawls simply weren’t civilized – but his minions were always around, coordinating his devices, manning the controls, sowing the seeds of Mastermind’s own brand of chaos. They were always so blank, always stood out no matter how many other thought patterns there were to distract her. Pushing herself to her limit, she hunted through all of those around them on what had been a packed city street moments before.
“No minions,” she said finally.
“No more gadgets,” Cyber added.
“I guess that means it’s time to start cleaning up this mess,” Strong looked around at the ruins of what had been a hospital.
“Until next time,” whispered Willow.
Until next time.
“Next time, I’ll make sure you don’t arrive in the nick of time, Heroes,” a man’s voice echoed over the ruins. It didn’t sound defeated, or angry, or irritated. It didn’t sound smug, or amused, or vindictive. Mastermind never showed those kinds of emotions. No, it was the way he sounded certain, confident, and, most of all, simply polite that always made Riddle want to tear her hair out. “Cheerio,”, and there was a slight sucking sound as whatever contraption he was using to project his voice ceased to function. Knowing Mastermind, it had dissolved in to a puddle of goo, or blown up – silently – or in some other fashion completely ceased to function. Mastermind was in some ways very predictable. Of course, it was the ways in which he was utterly unpredictable that made him dangerous, that had enabled him to conduct his evil business successfully for so long. Team Transverse knew only too well how dangerous he could be.
“I guess he’s gone,” Strong rose out of his fighting stance, apparently oblivious to the ruins of automata that surrounded him, the robots he had battled while the attack went on. “You don’t think this is one of those times he’s only pretending to be defeated and the real threat is actually going to go off in about a minute, right?”
Riddle closed her eyes in concentration. Focus on her own mind, focus on her own thoughts, understand what could be encompassed within her, and by so doing, understand that which was without. It was a sign of how tired she was after the battle that she had to go through those motions. When was the last time she had truly had to consciously go through those steps? She quashed the distracting thought. With a nonexistent flash, a light that would have been blinding if it hadn’t all been in her head, everything came into alignment, and she was able to perceive all the minds in the area.
It wasn’t pleasant. Her teammates were pillars of strength near her, for all that each was tired and Willow seemed to be on the verge of weeping – she must have been hurt worse than she had been letting on, for Riddle had seen no sign of pain through her normal senses. Cyber was stretching himself just as Riddle was, straining, looking for the tell tale signs of the devices that were the Mastermind’s signature. The bonds between the four of them were strong, and their trust was unswerving, and it gave her strength just to be near them. Beyond that, though, was chaos. Her ears could still hear the silence that permeated the real world after Mastermind’s words, but her powers revealed the turmoil that was masked. All around them, people were terrified. People were in pain. People were hiding, running, confused. They demanded to know what was going on, but were too afraid to venture out and learn for themselves. A few brave souls were more fortified, were ready to fight, but they too reeked of fear, not knowing what the enemy was, not knowing when the silence might shatter, not knowing what they could do to against the mechanical enemies or if there were foes they could even face, not knowing what had happened to set off this chaos. Riddle wanted to help them all. She soothed the mind of a child who seemed to be unable to think of anything at all; she calmed an elderly man frantic with concern for his wife – she’s over there, Riddle suggested with a slight mental push, sending him towards an equally elderly woman who had stumbled while running and was unable to get up. No, she reminded herself, she was too tired to let her attention wander, it was too important to be sure for her to allow distractions to ascertain whether there was still a lingering threat. The minds of those who worked with Mastermind were always distinct. The man himself almost never came to confrontations – he said such brawls simply weren’t civilized – but his minions were always around, coordinating his devices, manning the controls, sowing the seeds of Mastermind’s own brand of chaos. They were always so blank, always stood out no matter how many other thought patterns there were to distract her. Pushing herself to her limit, she hunted through all of those around them on what had been a packed city street moments before.
“No minions,” she said finally.
“No more gadgets,” Cyber added.
“I guess that means it’s time to start cleaning up this mess,” Strong looked around at the ruins of what had been a hospital.
“Until next time,” whispered Willow.
Until next time.
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