In Fairy Tales And Fantasy, Two Types Of People Go In Towers:  Princesses And Wizards.

"You seem remarkably dispassionate these days," they said in a low voice.

The soft creak of the floorboards was the only sound. They seemed to shift towards you, and you recoiled from the brush of their fingers.

"We're strangers," you whisper, voice cracking. "We're practically strangers now."

The board decided to level the hospital. It wasn't profitable enough, they said. One nurse practitioner refused to leave. It was a death sentence to the town, she said. They claim they didn't know she was still inside when they began demolition.

For a long while after, it was a five hour drive to the nearest hospital. People of the town made do with what they could. Teledoc, MayoClinic, homeopathic remedies. Prayer. Nevertheless, the funeral director kept busy.

The old hospital foundation, naturally, was rumored to be haunted. Teens used to sneak up to the grounds in the dead of night for a chance to catch a glimpse of The Nurse. Adults of the town tried to discourage such behavior after a few kids went missing, but teens insisted The Nurse was only dangerous if you looked at her face.

It was late one night when one of the twins was skating on the old wheelchair ramp and fell face-first into the pavement. Their friends watched from afar as The Nurse approached. The Nurse stood over them and healed them with a radiant glow.

Naturally, the news of The Nurse spread quickly in the desperate town. They filled the old foundation with lawn chairs and handed out blindfolds to anyone who waited. Some would wait all day, even after they determined she only came out at night. The elderly of the town hosted a monthly potluck in honor of the Nurse, and a group formed to help keep the patients company as they sat blindfolded in the dark.

Then the news spread further. Tourists started coming to the old foundation in hopes of curing their ailments. The foundation became something of a tourist destination, and vendors sold paintings with a side profile of The Nurse, along with framed debris from the site.

News got around to the landowner, who shut down the vendors and roped off the foundation. They began charging an entree fee to see The Nurse, a fee no one in town could afford. People of the town tried to sneak in some nights, and were arrested for trespassing.

The death toll rose again.

The landowner was rebuilding the hospital on the old foundation when he disappeared one day. No one's sure what happened, but they suspected he looked at The Nurse's face, while others speculate she held a grudge.

Nevertheless, the town regained their hospital, and The Nurse was never seen again.

They say that going to that mountain, where the now-bare foundation of a hospital sits silently, can cure any disease or injury. Simply sit in a chair on the grounds, wearing a blindfold in the dead of night, and The Nurse will arrive to cure you. But you must never look at her face…

"It's dark. It's time to set up camp," the swordsman said.

"We lost all our gear, though. Nowhere to sleep unless we conjure something up."

The party pointedly turns to the wizard.

"...No," the wizard says. "I'm not using magic."

The party shouted in indignation. "WHY?! Come on, we're tired! Why can't you do it?!"

The wizard groaned. "Listen, I'll get us some light."

"You always use light spells! Why can't you ever conjure something useful?!"

"Because it's-- it's very hard to quality control magic!" the wizard sputtered. "Do you want tent spikes sticking out of your leg-- or, or HOLES in your tent?!"

"It's better than sleeping in the open air--," the swordsman tried.

"And then!" the wizard continued, "And then, you have to keep such an item conjured! Did we buy an emerald in the last town? Maybe a ruby? NO, I'm working off a crummy hunk of quartz! A polished quarts, maybe? REFINED QUARTZ?! NOOOOO. I have a small, dirt-stained, misshapen LUMP!"

"Why does that--"

"BECAUSE THE ROCK CONDUCTS THE MAGIC THAT KEEPS IT PERSISTING!!!" the wizard shrieked in dismay. "You need quality gemstone that can HANDLE that consistent power need! You know what happens when a gem overdraws magic energy over an extended period of time?"

"...No?..."

"You get a fire hazard! You risk breaking your gem! And if the gem gets broken, where does the magic fall?"

"I don't--"

"The WIZARD!!"

A timid scholar spoke up, "... Can't you transmogrify something?..."

"Can't I-- can't-- " the wizard laughed and gripped his head. "I'm working WITH A LUMP OF QUARTZ!!!"

"I heard of a wizard who could--"

"And Lord Agument is the best in our field! Do you think I'm the best?! With the way you pay me?!"

"But your fire spells--"

"Yes!!! Yes, because that's what I've studied!!! I am good at the section of magic I studied!!! Pardon me for wanting hobbies outside of work!!! Not EVERYONE can be Lord Agument, who mastered all forms of magic on a crummy little quartz."

"Listen-- just-- can you start the light spell," the swordsman wearily sighed.

"YES. I CAN."

Wizards have as much faith in magic as software designers have in software - none at all. A wizard is explaining to the rest of the party why they won't use magic to solve all their problems.

"That smell. What is that?"

"I'm not sure."

"I've smelled it before. It's so familiar."

"You're imagining things."

"No, no, it's this tea. You made me this tea before."

"...You should go."

That run cycle and spin kick!!! She is fast, but weighted!

Hey I'm back with another animation, that took forever 😅 accidentally deleted my progress from it last year around the same time as now. I worked on it on and off since then. I learned a lot again and now I can finally move on to other projects. This is the same character from my last one, Cassidy's the name, Kicks're her game! Terrible reference aside, I want this big lady of mine to kick ass and I believe I succeeded!

Prompt (517)

“People don’t take me seriously enough,” the villain said. “How can I look more intimidating?”

“Well, for starters, you can stop inviting your enemies to lunch dates to survey them,” the hero said.

The villain chuckled sarcastically, but wrote the answer down anyway. The hero sipped their coffee. A wry smile curled their lips.

“You’re paying, right?” The hero asked.

“Shut up. Yes. Next question.”

"Hey, you're a hero, right?"

"Well, I mean--"

"I need someone strong to come clean out my garage."

"But I don't--"

"I'll pay you $5."

"..."

"I'll throw in a sandwich if you unclog my toilet."

"... ..."

The squall pushed them straight into the rocks, which tore clean through the starboard side. The hull was damaged beyond repair. Gwen screwed her eyes shut. She knew she shouldn't have let Harvey goad her into trying to prove herself. She knew she wasn't ready to be captain. She knew she wasn't enough. She just wanted so badly to be taken seriously. And now they were all going to die for her pride. This was her fault. This was all her fault.

"Snap out of it, Captain!" one of the crewmen cried. "We need to evacuate!"

Gwen shook, heaving, with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. She stared ahead, wide-eyed and shellshocked.

"Leave the wretch! She'll take us down with her!"

"I knew we shouldn't've trusted her!"

Gwen snapped out of her trance. She had a job to do. "You lot! Move the cargo port side! You two! Hold the life boats! I repeat, hold the life boats! The current is too strong and we'll be dashed on the rocks! Wait until my signal!"

Her arms shook, fighting the pull of the wheel. She had trained for this. She had trained so long for this.

The ship was losing the battle against the punishing wind, pulling them toward a rocky alcove. Gwen knew what she had to do, but it would take them wildly off-course.

"Brace yourselves!" Gwen screamed.

She began to turn the ship.

"Captain, what are you doing!" one of the crewman cried.

"We must change course or be drawn further into the rocks!" Gwen yelled over the howling wind. "This will draw us to safer waters!"

"Are you insane! We need to go towards land!" Joshua cried.

"We won't make it to land in these waters!" Gwen screamed.

The ship groaned and pitched. The crew clung helplessly onto the bough and rails. Foaming waves crashed over the deck. In harrowing minutes that felt like hours, they were tossed about in the squall. Finally, mercifully, the ship calmed. The worse had past. The water was rising still, and they were running out of time.

"Drop anchor! Deploy the life boats!" Gwen said. "Begin evacuation!"

"Cap'n, it's customary for women and children to--" Joshua began, reaching for the wheel, and Gwen turned on him with a wild fury.

"I am the CAPTAIN, and I WILL be the last to leave," Gwen snapped.

"Captain--" Joshua protested.

"You are in charge of ushering our passengers onto the life boats," Gwen said, a little softer. "There is a trade route a few clicks off. Someone will see us and come to our aid. You are the only one I can trust with this task."

Joshua set his jaw. Nodded.

"You lot! Keep calm!" he shouted. "In an orderly fashion, make your way onto the life boats! I repeat, in an orderly fashion! This will all be over soon! Help is on the way!"

The first life boat was filled, then deployed.

And then, the second.

The first one, slowly, began sinking. One of the children jumped, taking the risk of swimming for it, and found the water too choppy.

"Captain, the life boat is sinking!"

"Man overboard! Throw the life preserver!" They tossed the life preserver and the child grabbed on. The first boat paddled closer and pulled the child to safety.

"Lower the third life boat!" The passengers from the sinking boat clamored to the other two.

The water was rising. "Lose the cargo!"

The cargo fell into the water, buying them time.

They deployed the fourth life boat. The ship was sinking faster. The crew cut loose the final life boat and abandoned protocol. The life boats barely stayed above water, filled well past their intended capacity. The crew unable to fit clung to floating barrels and planks.

"Captain-!" one of the crew cried. Gwen tried to swim for it, but the current pulled her under. Water surged into her lungs. She kicked and clawed, fighting for survival, and losing. Down, down, the ship sank, and Gwen with it. Her limbs were heavy, and her vision grew dark.

Gwen awoke to a burning sensation in her lungs. She gasped in a breath, but felt a lazy, liquid pull, not air. She questioned whether she was dead. Judging from the pain in her lungs and limbs, she didn't think so. Something smooth brushed her cheek. Her eyes snapped open.

"Oh good, you're not dead," a woman said, leaning over her, holding her cheek. Her voice sounded strange and melodic. The lighting too low to see her properly.

Gwen shook her head. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a high whistle.

The woman tilted her head.

Gwen tapped her throat.

"You're breathing because I made you breathe," the woman explained. "Using a little bit of magic I concocted. It seems you're still adjusting."

Gwen tried to speak again, but choked, little bubbles forming around her. She tried to shift away, but something constrained her.

"Where do you think you're going?" The woman tutted. "You're still recovering, and you are many, many leagues deep below the surface. Most don't survive the journey."

Gwen's eyes slowly adjusted to the dark. The woman's silhouette was strange, as if her torso were a writhing mass of... something.

"I'll take good care of you," the woman said. "I've always wanted a human for a pet."

You are the captain of a sinking ship. As you feel that the sinking is your fault you decide to go down with the ship instead of evacuating. It is only when your ship hits the bottom of the ocean and you are still alive that you notice that something is off.

small reminder: the world needs your stories, even the ones you’re not sure are “good enough”

The Hero dodged. Too slow, the Dark Lord swung down his battle ax and cleaved a rock in half. The Hero went for his opening, but the Dark Lord parried. The Hero jumped over another swing, then feinted an attack. The Dark Lord anticipated the feint and swung at the Hero's sword's mid-arc, sending it flying. The Hero stumbled back from the blow, then rolled when the ax came down where he fell.

The Hero retrieved his fallen sword and smiled cockily. "I can do this all day."

The Dark Lord froze at that. The Hero launched into another attack. Dark Lord halfheartedly blocked his blow. Another attack. Block. It felt slow and deliberate, like a training exercise.

"What's wrong? Getting tired?" The Hero snarked.

The Dark Lord planted his ax in the ground. The Hero sensed something was different and stepped back. The two foes apprehensively waited for the other to make a move.

That's when the Dark Lord removed his helmet.

"I am," he said simply. He tossed his helmet to the side. "I am getting tired."

"You think it can just end? Like that?!" The Hero shouted. "After everything you did?!"

The Dark Lord's glowing eyes bore into his.

He picked up one of the skulls littering the ground around them, and tossed it to the Hero's feet.

"Whose bodies litter these battle grounds?" The Dark Lord growled. "Did you ever wonder?"

The Hero stared down at the skull.

"Ours," the Hero said lightly. He kicked the skull back. "A millennia of reincarnations made to come here and die over and over."

The Dark Lord stepped on the skull. It cracked, then crumbled into dust. "You're ready to do this for another millennia?"

The Hero faltered then. "As long as it takes," he whispered.

"As long as it takes for what?" The Dark Lord said.

"I... I just want to rest," the Hero admitted. "But time and time again, you razed my village and destroyed everything I love. You've taken everything, and now you get to call it quits and say you're tired? I've been tired this whole time."

"Your village turned away my people when we had nothing," the Dark Lord said. "We took what we needed by force."

"Don't you dare try to come off as the victim--" the Hero started in, but the Dark Lord interjected.

"We were desperate, and turned to forces we never should have trifled with. In turn, so have yours. Neither us have known love and peace since this started."

"Quit trying to act like we're the same," the Hero snarled, but there was a broken edge.

"We need to end the cycle," The Dark Lord said, and started towards him.

The Hero narrowed his eyes and raised his sword. The Dark Lord, undeterred, loomed above him. The Hero shook.

"Run me through, Hero," the Dark Lord said. "Slake your bloodlust. I will come back as many times as it takes."

The Hero held out his sword. The Dark Lord bared his throat and closed his eyes. A bead of blood dripped from where the blade grazed his throat.

The sword clattered to the ground.

The Dark Lord tilted his head.

"I don't want this," the Hero said.

The Dark Lord held out his hand. "It's time to rebuild, then."

The Hero took it. "I'll hold you to that."

You and the Dark Lord are destined to be reincarnated to fight fight one another throughout time. After 1000 years of fighting, the two of you decide to sit down and actually discuss an end to this conflict.