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Academy of Junior Gods
They slammed their badges on my table. No "hello," "come with us' please," or any other standard bullshit people used these days.
"Just waiting for my sandwich." I leaned back. I could see they both had guns, the heavy forbidden type that made walls look like Swiss cheese. Not the type of people to get intimidated. The taller one flipped the safety off. I could literally smell his eagerness.
"Guys, I just want my sandwich." My muscles tensed up. Instinct flushed out whatever calm the alcohol had brought me. "Hey, can you hurry it up, buddy?" I shouted at the bar. There was no one there.
Of course. I'd roll my eyes, but with two geared up idiots in front of me I preferred not to. Last time some little piece of shit had seen that as an opportunity and had taken a shot at me.
"You're Simmic." The shorter one placed an infopad before me. His uniform was dull and grey, almost invisible under his gleaning battle armour. "Purifier of worlds," he spat my title out with hatred I'd only heard once before. "We want you to leave."
"Fine." Fuck the sandwich! Probably tastes like shit anyway! "I'm gone."
I tried to stand up. Two guns instantly pointed at me—one at the head, the other at the chest. The tall one smirked. It's his moment now. His eyes sparkled with the maniacal gleam of one who can taste glory on the tip of his tongue.
"Academy of Junior Gods," he mocked as he spit on my face.
"Please don't." I clenched my first. Why must it always end up like this? For once I wanted to enjoy a sandwich among people, not locked up in the Academy's bunkers. One lousy sandwich! Is that so much to ask.
"Did you stop when Saturn 7 asked you the same?" He squeezed the trigger.
The whole world around me vanished, bursting like a soap bubble. Sound, vision, smell, all had gone. No shitty little diner full of smelly hicks and slutty girls laughing at stupid jokes, no glorified lead-spitters with delusions of grandeur, just darkness, agony, and rage.
You motherfucking piece of shit! I felt my atoms explode as a surge of energy pulsed through my very core. A cocktail of hatred and pain ripped through whatever shreds of self control I had left.
"You motherfucker!" I snapped his arm as my face reconstructed. His gun started leaving his hand, but I caught it in time. "Do you know what a junior god is?" I pressed onto his trigger finger shooting his parter's head clean off, along with half the wall behind him. "Do you?!" I shot twice more.
Finding itself without three walls the diner creaked in a final effort to remain upright, then collapsed upon us. At this point pain didn't even matter. Things were already in motion—I would purge this planet of every sentient being, leaving it bare for recolonization. That's what I did, again, again, and again.
"Do you even know what it takes to enter the academy?" I shot his legs off along with mine. Unlike him, however, I remained standing. He convulsed, the amount of pain bringing him into shock. "You have to wipe out an entire fucking race!"
His body exploded as I fired the final shot. The gun was useless now—its owner dead it had initiated self-lockdown mode. I cast it aside like a useless piece of junk, then made my way through the remnants of the diner, searching for signs of life. I didn't find any, but there was something that caught my attention: a phone lying in the rubble. The display was cracked and the casing was barely holding it together, but it seemed to function. Shit on a stick! I picked it up. Carefully, I typed in the number and waited.
"Hello?" a male voice asked. My eye twitched. I hated making these sort of calls.
"Dad, it's Jenny." I tried to sound natural. Some daughter I am. "Sorry about this, but I won't make it for the holidays this year..."
"Just waiting for my sandwich." I leaned back. I could see they both had guns, the heavy forbidden type that made walls look like Swiss cheese. Not the type of people to get intimidated. The taller one flipped the safety off. I could literally smell his eagerness.
"Guys, I just want my sandwich." My muscles tensed up. Instinct flushed out whatever calm the alcohol had brought me. "Hey, can you hurry it up, buddy?" I shouted at the bar. There was no one there.
Of course. I'd roll my eyes, but with two geared up idiots in front of me I preferred not to. Last time some little piece of shit had seen that as an opportunity and had taken a shot at me.
"You're Simmic." The shorter one placed an infopad before me. His uniform was dull and grey, almost invisible under his gleaning battle armour. "Purifier of worlds," he spat my title out with hatred I'd only heard once before. "We want you to leave."
"Fine." Fuck the sandwich! Probably tastes like shit anyway! "I'm gone."
I tried to stand up. Two guns instantly pointed at me—one at the head, the other at the chest. The tall one smirked. It's his moment now. His eyes sparkled with the maniacal gleam of one who can taste glory on the tip of his tongue.
"Academy of Junior Gods," he mocked as he spit on my face.
"Please don't." I clenched my first. Why must it always end up like this? For once I wanted to enjoy a sandwich among people, not locked up in the Academy's bunkers. One lousy sandwich! Is that so much to ask.
"Did you stop when Saturn 7 asked you the same?" He squeezed the trigger.
The whole world around me vanished, bursting like a soap bubble. Sound, vision, smell, all had gone. No shitty little diner full of smelly hicks and slutty girls laughing at stupid jokes, no glorified lead-spitters with delusions of grandeur, just darkness, agony, and rage.
You motherfucking piece of shit! I felt my atoms explode as a surge of energy pulsed through my very core. A cocktail of hatred and pain ripped through whatever shreds of self control I had left.
"You motherfucker!" I snapped his arm as my face reconstructed. His gun started leaving his hand, but I caught it in time. "Do you know what a junior god is?" I pressed onto his trigger finger shooting his parter's head clean off, along with half the wall behind him. "Do you?!" I shot twice more.
Finding itself without three walls the diner creaked in a final effort to remain upright, then collapsed upon us. At this point pain didn't even matter. Things were already in motion—I would purge this planet of every sentient being, leaving it bare for recolonization. That's what I did, again, again, and again.
"Do you even know what it takes to enter the academy?" I shot his legs off along with mine. Unlike him, however, I remained standing. He convulsed, the amount of pain bringing him into shock. "You have to wipe out an entire fucking race!"
His body exploded as I fired the final shot. The gun was useless now—its owner dead it had initiated self-lockdown mode. I cast it aside like a useless piece of junk, then made my way through the remnants of the diner, searching for signs of life. I didn't find any, but there was something that caught my attention: a phone lying in the rubble. The display was cracked and the casing was barely holding it together, but it seemed to function. Shit on a stick! I picked it up. Carefully, I typed in the number and waited.
"Hello?" a male voice asked. My eye twitched. I hated making these sort of calls.
"Dad, it's Jenny." I tried to sound natural. Some daughter I am. "Sorry about this, but I won't make it for the holidays this year..."
This sounds like the first scene of a young adult novel. Not bad, but it leaves too many questions unanswered for my taste.
That first line could use a bit of work.
Interesting concept, this, and the elements of world-building that didn't leave me scratching my head (relax, there weren't many) were both intriguing and original. As has already been said, however, this feels like a scene from a larger body of work, so I wasn't left with the sense of satisfaction I would normally expect on reaching the end of the piece.
The lack of anything other than bad-ass attributes in the protagonist kind of left her pretty shallow and unrelatable, and I think this was made more extreme by the casual approach the fic has in describing the acts of violence within. Not that I have anything against more dark, troubled characters, but if I'm going to relate I'm going to need something lighter to work with, no matter how small. That may come down to personal tastes, but I'd like to think the point is relevant regardless. She didn't feel well-rounded.
I'd be intrigued to see where you take this, should you choose to do so. As a minific it doesn't really work for me, but I'm at the very least interested in what concepts you present here. Thanks for sharing your work.
Interesting concept, this, and the elements of world-building that didn't leave me scratching my head (relax, there weren't many) were both intriguing and original. As has already been said, however, this feels like a scene from a larger body of work, so I wasn't left with the sense of satisfaction I would normally expect on reaching the end of the piece.
The lack of anything other than bad-ass attributes in the protagonist kind of left her pretty shallow and unrelatable, and I think this was made more extreme by the casual approach the fic has in describing the acts of violence within. Not that I have anything against more dark, troubled characters, but if I'm going to relate I'm going to need something lighter to work with, no matter how small. That may come down to personal tastes, but I'd like to think the point is relevant regardless. She didn't feel well-rounded.
I'd be intrigued to see where you take this, should you choose to do so. As a minific it doesn't really work for me, but I'm at the very least interested in what concepts you present here. Thanks for sharing your work.
I feel like this buries the lead, as they say in the newspaper biz. There's four paragraphs with no hint of future in the setting and then suddenly in paragraph 5 we have infopads and battle armor. (Also, wouldn't the narrator have noted the battle armor while she was sizing up the threat of their being armed?)
... and then an excuse fight. No, really, what was the "we want you to leave" bit about if they planned to murder her in cold blood all along? Why give her the chance to react?
I think I see what you're going for here -- that being shot unleashed some sort of ... inner demon or something? ... that completely changes the narrator's emotions about the world around them? It works thematically, I think, but not textually. We don't see Jenny's pre-change opinions of the diner or its inhabitants (and in fact we don't see any of those inhabitants ever: where are the hicks and the laughing girls when Jenny first walks in and sits down? When the guns are pulled? How many people died in the restaurant; why don't we hear their screams or see them try to flee?), so there's no context to establish unreliable narration.
As the above implies, this is another story (like Deliberate Action) which left me with many questions. And while the core concept is a lot more solid -- and I'm more enthusiastic to see this fully developed -- in its present state I don't think it holds together as well as a story. The tension of Deliberate Action is in the outmatched narrator dealing with a bizarre and unknown threat; the core conflict here is robbed of tension by the abrupt switch from standoff to murder, and because we never see any victims besides the armed assholes, the aftermath is emotionally muted despite the huge implications. Slow down, show us some people (and the narrator being nice before the shift!), and milk the standoff some more before launching into the extended denouement.
Tier: Needs Work. Though this is a case where I feel my rating doesn't reflect the story's potential, which is easily TC-worthy, and I highly encourage a second draft.
... and then an excuse fight. No, really, what was the "we want you to leave" bit about if they planned to murder her in cold blood all along? Why give her the chance to react?
The whole world around me vanished, bursting like a soap bubble. Sound, vision, smell, all had gone. No shitty little diner full of smelly hicks and slutty girls laughing at stupid jokes, no glorified lead-spitters with delusions of grandeur, just darkness, agony, and rage.
I think I see what you're going for here -- that being shot unleashed some sort of ... inner demon or something? ... that completely changes the narrator's emotions about the world around them? It works thematically, I think, but not textually. We don't see Jenny's pre-change opinions of the diner or its inhabitants (and in fact we don't see any of those inhabitants ever: where are the hicks and the laughing girls when Jenny first walks in and sits down? When the guns are pulled? How many people died in the restaurant; why don't we hear their screams or see them try to flee?), so there's no context to establish unreliable narration.
As the above implies, this is another story (like Deliberate Action) which left me with many questions. And while the core concept is a lot more solid -- and I'm more enthusiastic to see this fully developed -- in its present state I don't think it holds together as well as a story. The tension of Deliberate Action is in the outmatched narrator dealing with a bizarre and unknown threat; the core conflict here is robbed of tension by the abrupt switch from standoff to murder, and because we never see any victims besides the armed assholes, the aftermath is emotionally muted despite the huge implications. Slow down, show us some people (and the narrator being nice before the shift!), and milk the standoff some more before launching into the extended denouement.
Tier: Needs Work. Though this is a case where I feel my rating doesn't reflect the story's potential, which is easily TC-worthy, and I highly encourage a second draft.
In addition to all the stuff Horizon said, I'd also add that the "Home for the holidays" thing is an odd thing to end on if it's not foreshadowed earlier in the story. Have her be thinking about going to visit or something at least.
Secondly... the narrator has no self-description at all. That she was female only entered my thought at the last line where she uses the name Jenny. Is she not Simmic? Also, we're told acaedmy of junior gods, not goddesses, so that (in addition to my standard western biases) lead me to think the narrator was male too. On top of that, we're shown her thinking really gritty, swear-filled things of violence that feel like a hard-boiled killer, like Snake Pliskin. Having her be a young(?) girl at the end, calling home about missing the holidays, seems very out of place.
Overall, a lot of stuff here to hook my interest, but I need the whole story, not just this odd glimpse.
Secondly... the narrator has no self-description at all. That she was female only entered my thought at the last line where she uses the name Jenny. Is she not Simmic? Also, we're told acaedmy of junior gods, not goddesses, so that (in addition to my standard western biases) lead me to think the narrator was male too. On top of that, we're shown her thinking really gritty, swear-filled things of violence that feel like a hard-boiled killer, like Snake Pliskin. Having her be a young(?) girl at the end, calling home about missing the holidays, seems very out of place.
Overall, a lot of stuff here to hook my interest, but I need the whole story, not just this odd glimpse.
I suppose “gleaning” is for “gleaming”.
You should be word-thrifty in such rounds.
He convulsed, the amount of pain bringing him into shock. is way too long-winded for “He convulsed under the pain.”
I agree with the previous reviewers that this has a lot of potential but doesn't live up to its expectations. We have that goddess, Jenny. I can guess she probably wants to eat something incognito, and those two cops (?) recognise her and want her to take a hike. Fine, but why? I mean, not only there are assholes because the girl didn't mingle in any way, but they also are morons shooting at what appears to be an immortal demigod capable of instant regeneration (makes me thinks of a Terminator more than a deity, by the way).
If the scene is to make sense, it must be plunged into a wider context we completely lack. What’s this academy? Why has she chosen to eat her sandwich here? Why are the cops so snarky — and thus suicidal? What happens next?
Badly needs an expansion to unleash its full potential. In the present state, it ended up right in the middle of my slate.
You should be word-thrifty in such rounds.
He convulsed, the amount of pain bringing him into shock. is way too long-winded for “He convulsed under the pain.”
I agree with the previous reviewers that this has a lot of potential but doesn't live up to its expectations. We have that goddess, Jenny. I can guess she probably wants to eat something incognito, and those two cops (?) recognise her and want her to take a hike. Fine, but why? I mean, not only there are assholes because the girl didn't mingle in any way, but they also are morons shooting at what appears to be an immortal demigod capable of instant regeneration (makes me thinks of a Terminator more than a deity, by the way).
If the scene is to make sense, it must be plunged into a wider context we completely lack. What’s this academy? Why has she chosen to eat her sandwich here? Why are the cops so snarky — and thus suicidal? What happens next?
Badly needs an expansion to unleash its full potential. In the present state, it ended up right in the middle of my slate.