Let's Write Whatever

[nira]

Because sometimes, we just gotta write, and not always about character stuff.

[nira]

Personal life rant journal

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I skipped breakfast today.

I usually do on weekdays, and always regret it a bit when it's halfway to lunch. It feels a bit better when I notice my weight steadily going down.

Does that count as anorexia? Probably not. I don't fear gaining weight or anything, I just enjoy being able to lose weight because I'd rather lay in bed than get a couple food items out of the fridge. I eat like a monster during lunch anyway. I can stuff down two plates and dessert in a buffet setting.

Sure, it's unhealthy, but I don't think by much. It's a terrible way to regulate my weight, though.

Walked two miles yesterday. It was suffering. Exercising more would be a wise decision so that I could suffer less on long walks, but exercising means suffering a large amount in a short amount of time to suffer less in a longer amount of time.

All on that whole... looking too much at the present and not at the future.

Well, we all have our things. When it becomes a big problem, we'll gain the drive to fix it up.

[nira]

Short story with a fantasy setting.

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Siril was running out of lives. It had been a long time since he had to think about it, but he could feel his spirit waning. Earlier in the morning, he had fended off a bandit raid in Gilsren Village, and had been fatally wounded around sixteen times. The bandits were all chased off, and no one but Siril lost any lives.

The villagers were as grateful as ever. They showered Siril with praise, and offered him extravagant gifts. Siril rejected most of the gifts, but did accept enough food to last for the next few weeks. He amused himself with the idea of what would have happened if he accepted all of the gifts. The villagers might have given more than the bandits would have taken.

Siril was running out of lives. He never thought the need would come again.

Five thousand and eighty years ago, there was a demon that terrorized the Ollija Continent. It tore through cities with ease. Armies united to fend off the terrifying creature, but no weapon was a match for it. The demon was faster, stronger, and smarter than all that dared to face it. It killed indiscriminately, leaving massacres wherever it went.

One day, after years of terror, the demon vanished. Three quarters of the people on the continent had been slain, but the remaining souls saw no further signs of the demon.

For every kill, Siril could return to life twice. That was the cost. He had slain so many people that he felt his life force had become infinite. By then, killing had become boring. He was never threatened, so the activity wasn’t much more than collecting food to him. As an immortal, he wandered in search of contentment.

It was three thousand years before Siril had become a hero in a small part of the world. Being a good person attracted people in a way that was far more amusing than being the center of hatred. He was said to be the man who could never die, who dedicated his immortal life for the peace of others.

To win fights without killing was an exciting challenge. Siril suffered sixteen deaths against the horde of over two hundred bandits.

The bandits banded together with the foolish notion that they could get rid of an immortal nuisance by poking it enough times. As it turns out, they were right about the concept, but still weren’t strong enough to pull it off.

Yet, the damage was done. Siril was running out of lives. He had made great friends among the villagers who regarded him as their hero. Everyone trusted him, and flocked to his side when he called for them.

He wasn’t sure what to do. It had been a great while since death had been dealt by his hand.

The district had become dependent on their hero. So long as he existed, there was no need for a great military. Since no bandits were slain, they needed only to pick up a new weapon before striking again. If Siril ever left, the bandits would annihilate all the surrounding villages. Yet, if he continued to fight as he had, his life couldn’t last.

It was for that reason that Siril stood at the entrance to a cave, where the bandits met.

The face was the demon smiled again.

[gustavowoltmann]

i'm Gustavo Woltmann, I like to write about my pet.

I have a pet dog
His favorite food is hotdog

I also have a cat
Her favorite food is kitKat

THat's all I want to write.