TDR presents,
The Raven
This worlds gone to shit.
Nothing new there.
Generational wars, corvid- 19 virus, pedophile rings in the upper echelons of society, corporations firing people or cutting pay to increase their own profits, global warming, trade wars with China, cops killing people, insurance scalping sick people for every dime they have, terrorists, mass shooters the dumbing down of the schools, and a partridge in a pear tree.
It's like a new version of Billy Joel's 'We didn't start the fire' well no, it's like near the exact same version of the song just with new problems added.
So what's my place in this smoldering shit hole?
Peon, a new serf for the kingdoms of wealth, the sort of nameless schmuck who was hoping the Corona virus was the new Black Death. My head filled with some vague idea that, with people dying , better jobs would be opening for any one with any skills. And thus I could leave retail behind and find something that paid a wage I could live off of.
Like my ass had any better chance of living to see that sort of thing as any one else. Or that I wouldn't be fucking losing my damn mind if my handful of friends or the few relatives I care about died from this shit.
People like me talk a big game, but if it came down to it, we don't even know if we'd step up, or run and hide when the shit hit the fan.
Still, like any worn out Gen-X nothing I soldiered the fuck on, not caring if I died, but too worried about upsetting some one if I removed myself from the gene-pool. Like many I shrouded myself in nostalgia, in fantasy and science fiction, and all those perfect worlds with their heroes and working government systems and good medical care.
Of course it's this last part that started all the problems.
I don't recall the name of the con. Hell, it changed names three times in one year as new people bought or sold the rights. Used to be Super Con or something like that I'm sure.
Either way I paid my way before the virus shit started and surprisingly they didn't cancel it.
They probably should have, might have only been a couple hundred people there, not counting the usual religious crazies who thought enjoying things was a sin against god or some such shit. What few guests they had were only talking through a TV screen video conference. And like expected of the cosplayers, there were like a million Witchers, Jokers and Mandolorians. Granted there was one Boba Geralt in a clown suit, so my day was made.
The game room was surprisingly empty though, and I could try out a bunch of things they had without waiting in line, really most of my time was spent there. And the dance... well... nothing stops ravers, and most of them had their own gas masks anyway.
The dealer room was sad though.
Maybe twenty or thirty vendors, still some neat stuff, but the art room was empty and I had a few bucks to blow that was burning a hole in my pocket.
I hadn't bothered to dress up this time. I had a plan or two with my friends, but it never amounted to anything. Which is sad because a swarm of Final Fantasy tonberrys wandering around, stabbing Final Fantasy cosplayers with plastic kitchen knives would have been hilarious.
Regardless it was a cosplay seller's booth I was looking over now. Dude had some rather nice things too. Not nice as in 'oh my god I have to buy that', but nice that I could tell a lot of skill went into making a cartoon weapon into a real prop.
I dabbled in the craft for a while, but at best I was mediocre and never learned to sew.
Also most of this guys crap was Key blades, and Bleach weapons. I was highly interested in the Dragonslayer he had on the back wall, but I was told it was a pain in the ass to mount so he wasn't taking it down unless some one bought it and carted the heavy thing off. Shit I could have bought a car for the price he wanted.
Of which, the guy himself was a piece of work. I don't know if he picked the cosplay so he could wear a mask for the virus or because he was selling stuff, maybe both, but dude was a very detailed version of the Resident Evil 4 merchant, right down to the gruff voice and shifty eyes.
Of course that should have been a warning, but I mean fuck, the Displaced crap was a trope, why the hell would I put two and two together when the answer was fish? It wasn't like I was cosplaying anything like a Dullahan or from fate stay night or anything. Hell if I tried a r63 Celty I'd be booed out of the con, also I couldn't afford the fake blood needed for the Tim Burton one, and I knew nothing about the Fire Emblem one, never played it.
I was about done with his table, and had stopped to look at this long ass feather he had, it was quite interesting, the quill of it was dipped in metal like a throwing dart. I knew a guy from Ranma1/2 used this sort of weapon in one of the movies and I was pretty sure some one else killed with feathers too, it was just too anime like not to do so, but I had no clue who.
Any way as I'm looking over this feather wracking my brain and figuring it's from a newer series I missed out on I hear some screams and I feel like something slaps my back hard in several places followed by what sounds like fireworks.
The merchant guy cusses and dives behind his table as I turn and look back at who hit me ready to slap some sense into them.
In the middle of the dealer room I see some wack job in military gear, maybe Jin-Roh cosplay? Nah he looked more like that one fat kid from High School of the Dead who was killed before he even left his house to hunt zombies, or a generic Fallout cosplayer sans Pipboy.
In other words this fuck wit wasn't that impressive.
Of course he didn't need to be impressive, particularly carrying around... well... some sort of rifle. One of my friends, who didn't show to the con was the gun nut, he could probably tell you what it was and how many screws were in one side as well as which way they turned. It was probably a Walmart special or some other gun the media would call an assault weapon.
Okay none of that meant shit because he was shouting about some religious prophecy and shooting people.
All I had managed to do was turn to look before I noticed my shirt was wet. Looking down I then noticed the front of my shirt was soaked with a massive dark mess. There were also a few holes in my chest with bits of bloodied meat hanging out of them. Had I looked at my chest dead on I might have even been able to see through myself.
What the fuck type of bullets was this guy using?
“Well shit.” I offered with a wheeze before I collapsed, still clutching the feather.
As far as last words go, that was pretty standard I think.
“You've met a terrible fate haven't you?”
“ Those are not the words you want to hear waking up from having some shit stain punch a couple of holes in your chest. Also seriously am I dead or just in some fever dream because someone's quoting a lack luster Zelda game at me.” I snapped opening my eyes to look around seeing a few stars, mostly void, okay all void, I couldn't see shit.
“Hey Majora's Mask was a classic!”protested a voice near my head with no clear source.
“Bullshit. The true classic's stopped with the Super Nintendo. LINK TO THE PAST FOR LIFE BITCHES!! The 3-d games were a shitty gimmick and fall short of the classic goodness of the earlier games. I don't care what the fanboys say about 'flute clock 64'. Breath of the Wild was okay though.”
“Seriously?”
“This is the hill I will die on.”I swore.
“Funny you should say that.” The voice offered. “Cause you're dead.”
“Yeah yeah.”
“You seem … surprisingly disinterested in your own demise.”
“One does not generally live with many small holes in ones torso. Hell, I was gonna die at some point any way. No one lives forever. So any way what's with this place? It's so dark I expect a creepy ass skull in a space suit to float by asking who turned out the lights.”
“Usually the ones who come here have a bit more respect.”
“Ehh they probably think you're god or a god. I don't rightly care. I'm not in pain, I don't have to worry about work or doctors bills or medication or cake fucking killing me any more, so why would I be worried about this? If you go by belief I believe I'll be reincarnated as something else. Seems the most logical if matter is supposed to be finite in the universe. Hey can you send me back as a cat? I'd love to lay around thinking I'm a god with some future crazy cat lady waiting on me paw and well... paw I guess. Paw and tail?”
“A novel suggestion. And I'm rather curious as to what you might do. Smart asses tend to make things interesting.”
“Hey I'm a proper asshole thank you very much, I worked very hard for that level of petty bullshit to have you ignoring it. And what do you mean do?” I blinked taking note that the feather I had seen at the dealer's table was now floating before me, the little metal tip glinting in some non existent light.
“Really, what ever you want. Have fun.”
And I was falling.
Hello ground.
THUD!
“Ow,” was the best I could muster.
Mister ground was not my friend.
I opened my eyes as soon as my everything stopped hurting and pushed myself up to look around.
I was on an old dirt road, in a forest. It was daytime, and there was an over grown building just off the road past some trees that was covered in ivy that looked like it was made of brick or stone.
Yes, well hmmmm. With my awesome powers of reasoning I concluded, that I had no fucking clue where I was.
Standing up felt weird and I almost fell over before catching my balance with a curse, I did that a lot, curse I mean not fall over, granted if you hadn't noticed that by now, there's no hope for you.
My swearing startled some bird as I heard the heavy flap of wings from some where. There didn't seem to be any sort of landmarks I could see from here, but at least there was a road to follow.
A moment later there was a searing pain in my chest.
Looking down I noticed several things. One was that I was looking at a bunch of black feathers around my neck and chest, those gave way to a black furred and distinctly non human set of legs and feet.
Oh and someone shoved a spear though my back and out my chest.
“Well boys, looks like we gots us a live one.” A voice chimed up with what I could hear was a sneer.
“Yah mean had a live one.” Another voice cackled.
“Well shit.” I offered.
I was getting a lot of use out of that phrase today.
Then I collapsed again and everything went black.