[removed]

My ass went to school so it's pretty smart.

When I tap the "Roleplay" button on the server, my body lurches through the screen.

There's no gentle "Hey you, you're finally awake," no benign old guy showing me how to forage or build, no heads-up display telling me my life and mana.

Instead, a giant battle ax hurdles toward me, neck high. At the other end of it, an orc with forearms the size of my thighs foams at the mouth.

This is going to be a bad day.

I duck. The ax blade shears off the top half of my helmet and embeds in the tree behind me with a sickening thud. That could have been me. I don't know what happens if I die here.

Locks of golden hair drift to the forest floor beside me. I tap my head to make sure the top is still there. It is, and there's some hair left, too.

I'm dressed to the hilt in armor--except for my now-ventilated helmet--but my frantic hands can find no hilt. No belt pouch of magic potions, no bow strapped across my back.

The orc draws a knife and charges me. Instinct kicks in and I grab his wrist, using his momentum to throw him off balance.

How do I know how to do that? What am I, an armored ninja?

I dodge and weave between strikes, the unwilling partner in this dance of death. He lunges too far once, and I roll inside to deliver an uppercut to his jaw.

He barely flinches.

The pause gives me enough time to escape his grapple and create some distance. He glares at me.

I don’t know my body, so I do what any human of average intelligence would. I run.

The orc bellows as I take off; every hair on my body stands up on end.

I run for some time, until I reach a section of trees whose branches hang lower than most. I crash through them. Then I realize the ground is gone.

An abandoned quarry stretches downward further than I'd like to fall.

I scramble for a branch to hold my weight. It does, and I swing back to solid ground.

A low chuckle grates against my ears. I turn to see the orc set his plumed helm on a stump.

He licks the flat of his knife.

"Time to taste your blood, champion."

"You really don't have to do that," I say. "If you want, I can give myself a paper cut and you can--"

"Silence!" he roars. "Die, insolent fool!"

He sprints toward me with amazing speed, and I have one fleeting thought. A long shot. A last resort.

I wait till he's almost at my throat, and I step backwards. My armor scrapes the side of the quarry as I fall.

The orc tumbles over me as I grip the edge of the cliff, his face twisted in an expression of disbelief and hatred. He screams until he doesn’t, and his armor rattles far below.

I pull myself up, panting.

“Incredible,” says an elf who’s joined by several others from the forest. “You’ve defeated the general, my liege.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I stammer.

"Are you not Floopbert the Magnificent?"

"No. I'm Joel, the guy who lives alone at the end of the cul-de-sac."

“Told you he’d log out before the fight,” says a second elf.

My body lurches backward. My reflection in the computer monitor bears red marks the size and shape of keyboard squares. The “Roleplay” button is still there.

I close the window and go for a long, long walk.

[removed]

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

Reminders:

>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

🆕 New Here? ✏ Writing Help? 📢 News 💬 Discord

I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please contact the moderators of this subreddit if you have any questions or concerns.

"Hey!" "Hey you I'm talking here!"

You grumble as you get off the couch and look at the sword that you found in a box just last week.

It was the worst thing you ever did. At first it was cool to have a talking sword. I mean, you became a celebrity on the internet for it.

But Babel(the sword) will not shut up.

Even when you are taking a shower or just trying to sleep.

It talks about slaying dragons and killing demons with it. Honestly, your just not that type of person. These adventures it talks about just not suits you.

You like your job and your girlfriend. Why trade it all just to be killed?

"Let's go to Valhalla together!"

Finally you say to yourself that your done with it. You make a little video of yourself and the sword. On the description you put that you would give it to one of your followers.

Someone won.

It didn't display any emotion when you put it in the box. Just yammering on and on about battle and glory.

2 weeks later you scroll through tiktok you see a video of the follower slicing through a demon that erupted from the Earth.

"Glad that's not me". You say to yourself as you prepare to ask your girlfriend to marry you.

[removed]

Thank you :)

>When the chief of the orc tribe told Goog that "violence isn't always the answer", and that Goog was "perpetuating harmful orcish stereotypes" with his actions, Goog punched. This did not go over as well as Goog hoped.

HAH! laughed out loud at this bit. :D Good story, always have to try turning it off and on first before calling IT. :D

At least some part of me is smart.

It was a beautiful spring day, and the sun was shining down on the small park nestled in the heart of the bustling city. The park was quiet except for the sound of birds chirping and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.

On a bench in the middle of the park sat two people, an elderly man and a young woman. They sat in silence, staring out at the world around them.

The man was dressed in a simple gray suit, and his face was lined with wrinkles. His hair was white and thinning, and he wore a pair of round spectacles on the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he had seen a great deal in his life, and his eyes were filled with a quiet wisdom.

The young woman was dressed in a bright yellow sundress, and her long, blonde hair flowed in the breeze. She looked up at the man and smiled, and he returned the gesture.

They sat like this for a few moments, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beauty of the park. Finally, the man spoke.

"You know, I used to come to this park all the time when I was your age," he said. "It was my favorite spot in the city."

The young woman looked at him curiously. "What did you do here?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing really," he said with a chuckle. "Just sat and watched the world go by. It was a simpler time back then. There weren't as many distractions as there are now."

The young woman nodded thoughtfully. "I know what you mean," she said. "Sometimes it feels like we're all so busy rushing around that we forget to enjoy the little things."

The man smiled. "You're wise beyond your years," he said. "I wish I had learned that lesson earlier in life."

The two of them sat in silence again, lost in their own thoughts. But then the man spoke up again.

"You know, I lost my wife a few years ago," he said. "We used to come to this park together all the time. She loved it here."

The young woman reached over and took the man's hand in hers. "I'm so sorry," she said softly.

The man squeezed her hand gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "It's hard, but I try to remember the good times we had together. And sitting here with you now, I can almost feel her presence with us."

The young woman smiled. "I'm glad," she said. "I believe that the people we love never truly leave us. They live on in our memories and in the places we shared with them."

The man nodded. "You're right," he said. "And I'm grateful for this moment we're sharing together. It's almost as if my wife is here with us, enjoying the sunshine and the beauty of this park."

The two of them sat there for a while longer, enjoying each other's company and the peace of the park. And in that moment, they both felt a sense of comfort and belonging that they hadn't felt in a long time.

As the sun began to set, they stood up to leave. The man turned to the young woman and smiled.

"Thank you for sharing this time with me," he said. "It's been a pleasure getting to know you."

The young woman smiled back. "Likewise," she said. "I hope we can do it again sometime."

And with that, they went their separate ways, each feeling a little lighter and a little more connected to the world around them.

Bonus if it speaks like wheatly from portal 2

An old man and his grandchild sit on a park bench.

As I ride by on my bike I wonder what it's like for both. I never had a grandpa. He died in a military accident before my mom ever met my dad. My family reveres him like he's some sort of saint. Saint Grandpa. Would I like him? Would he have liked me? Does grandpa look out from heaven and say "Yup, I'm proud of that one." ?

I went to the military too but only for a bit. I didn't feel that matched me well. Would we have swapped service stories? I don't know.

And the kid...

My wife and I have been trying for a child for years now. Nothing.

Will I get to see a little me walk around? Does all my family end with me? I always liked being a teacher, a mentor showing people bits of the world. Who do I get to share the little moments of discovery at all the things that are so cool in the world?

I pass by on my bike and try to focus on the trail ahead. No need to think right now.

Goog had never met a problem he couldn't punch. Sometimes the problem would go away, and sometimes there would be a new problem. But this generally worked for Goog, as he was one of the best at punching.

When Goog was young and his brother stole his favorite shiny rock, Goog punched and brother let go of rock. When a weird bird once bit Goog, Goog punched and bird tasted good roasted over fire for Goog's lunch. When the chief of the orc tribe told Goog that "violence isn't always the answer", and that Goog was "perpetuating harmful orcish stereotypes" with his actions, Goog punched. This did not go over as well as Goog hoped.

Leaving the tribe was not all bad, Goog wandered and eventually found nice cave. Things in the cave were not friendly, but Goog punched, and things stopped moving. Goog found many shiny rocks in the cave, and other pretty things.

Sitting amongst the various treasures was something very strange. It was a sort of series of boxes connected to each other with strings. The whole contraption hummed with a strange energy. Goog stared in wonder at one of the boxes which seemed to contain a moving painting of colorful tubes which were twisting themselves into spiraling geometric patterns. Goog reached out to the box and-

Goog blinked. He was standing in a very small, square space. In front of him on a table sat the odd device, and next to him was a small, scrawny man rambling a bunch of made-up words to Goog- "Every time I open the word processor it just gets as slow as molasses and I can't do a thing with it until I exit out. But I simply must get that sales report to Brenda by tomorrow, you know what she is like." The little man's hands fidgeted rapidly with a loop of thin, stretchy material.

Goog did not know what Brenda was like, but he was confused. And when Goog was confused he got upset, and when he got upset he did what Goog did best- Goog punched.

It was at this precise moment that the man dropped the rubber band he had been toying with, and bent over to pick it up. Thrown off by his target being suddenly absent, Goog swayed forward, his closed fist landing on the computer's power button.

"Oh, how silly of me. Of course I should have tried turning it off and turning it on again."

[removed]

Thank you!

[removed]

The invisible world

"No, I told you just to wait, no, I don't want it." The man sped through the park. Faceless figures everywhere around him. "Okay, call me when it is done. Goodbye." It was a hot summer day and he was sweating hard inside his black suit. He found a bench and sat down to catch his breath while browsing his phone. He hated the summer. Burning sun, children's noises. Constant sweating. All of them.

Then something dropped on his phone. A bird's faeces. "God damnit" Someone laughed. He turned his face towards the origin of the voice. It was a girl, she was wearing a sports top, exposing a well built body, and had an open book sitting on her lap. "Sorry, your face, it was just too funny." "Glad one of us is enjoying this." "Here" she gave him a napkin. "Thank you." he replied.

"You are exercising and reading?" The man asked. "Two things I love the most." The man took another look at the girl. Deep black eyes, Golden hair, inviting lips, and a killer body. She was actually very beautiful.

"What are you reading?" "Cathedral" "Carver? You have a great taste!" "Wow, you've read it?" "You know, I wasn't always a boring suit." He paused: "Before I started working in finance, I wanted to be a writer. " "What happened?" The girl was smiling. It was as if she actually sympathized with him. "Reality happened. I figured I was not that good. At least not enough to make a living out of it." "Did you even try?" The man looked down. They both knew the answer.

The bench they were sitting on was one of the four benches around a small square, at the center of a small square there was a statue of a blindfolded man. Offering his eyes in his hands. "It is beautiful isn't it? Beautiful and scary" the girl asked pointing at the figure. The man answered: "Yes it is. somehow I never noticed it." "They say the artist himself was blind. He is offering his eyes so others can see what he can't." The girl replied.

The man looked at the girl. She smiled. The sun was illuminating her hair like a golden crown. Children were laughing nearby. "I know it might look strange, but would you be interested in sitting here with me this same time tomorrow?" He asked. "I would like it!" She answered. He was fixated on her face, her lips, her body, he didn't even realize his phone was ringing non-stop the whole time. "It is Sarah by the way." "I'm Philip, and I can swear you just made the world a more beautiful place."

Damn

Amazingly bittersweet! Loved every moment of it!

[removed]

Good work.

[Poem]

Snow

Falling

Unique individuals

Joining

Connecting

​

Creating

​

The screams of

my fiancee

echoing from below

deafening the duet

of a woman

and a werewolf

​

As I watch

the moonlight

from the full moon

illuminate

our countless family photos

​

Creating

​

The snores of

my boyfriend

bleeding next to me

turning the tide

of a vampire

and her sweetheart

​

As I watch

the moonlight

from the full moon

batheing the man

like a lover would

​

Creating

​

The tears of

my best friend

raining onto me

saturating the solidarity

of a mermaid

and a child

​

As I watch

the moonlight

from the full moon

stare coldly

at the polluted river

​

And at the

snowless ground.

Cool story.

This was a particularly cold winter in Evergreen, birds left quick, the trees turned early. I noticed it all the way back in October, their changing from life colored greens to yellowed shades of dead. The disease licking up their foliage disguised as something beautiful.

Birds had left around the same time, the same October day. Took their songs south and left the park as quiet as it was empty. Now only I and the bench remained. Not much of company, but it's what I think I preferred. And all in all it could always be worse. There could be no bench at all, then I'd truly be alone.

As I looked around the park, the empty patch of land whitened by falling snow, I wondered if this was all for me. That truly would be something special then. But I knew that it could not be. The snow would thaw, the people would return, and the park would be reclaimed by the birds, bugs, and children. Even now a man across the path was walking my way with purpose.

I tried to avoid his gaze, but his gaze was obviously meant for me. An older fellow, long coat and wide brimmed hat. He hobbled over and took a seat by my side with a sigh. Then, a long silence. Me looking anywhere but him. Him glancing over to me.

"It's spectacular is it not?" He gestured to the whitened landscape, speaking aloud to nothing and nobody in particular.

"It's dead...." My reply felt cold leaving my throat.

"And that is not spectacular?"

His words hung off in the air, but were extinguished fast by the falling snow. And I was left thinking of what to say and how to say it.

"It's death. Just a thing. Would you call walking spectacular? Does driving your car simply blow you away?"

"Some days not so much." The man continued. "But on others those simple things do prove to impress, and I can honestly say that those days, the days where the simple things mean so much, are my most memorable."

Above a flock of birds flew overhead sending both of our heads upward. I watched as they curved through the sky in a unified pattern, separate but together. Upon returning to the man he was staring at me with a grin.

"Are we both here for the same reason then?" The older man spoke, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a necklace. With a small metallic click the locket opened, revealing an old picture of a woman. On the opposite side a message read: Forever Entwined, My Love Always.

"Ah- I suppose so." Hesitantly I held up a picture of my own. A girl, young and fair haired. Still young and fair haired today, never aging in the only place left for her to exist: my mind.

"If you wouldn't mind, I think I'd prefer to be alone now." The words choked up in my throat.

"It's no mind, seeing as you already are alone. It's just you and the park bench."

The man kissed the locket and returned it to his coat pocket, then turned and stared out to the park in renewed silence. And we sat. Both of us just sat, alone together.