• Published 1st Apr 2016
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Group Precipitation - FanOfMostEverything


Stories set in the Oversaturated World, some silly, some less so.

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Rebels Without a Clue, by Masterweaver
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They sat around the campfire, drinking their coffee.

"...So." One of them looked up. "Do we actually have... a plan?"

Another scoffed. "To have a plan, we'd need a goal. No, at the moment we're just a resentful trio of wandering vandals."

"Ouch, Swirl." The third chuckled. "Tell us how you really feel, why don't you."

"I feel like people are and always have been stupid. The few intelligent people are trapped in their place by outdated social conventions. And changing the world to save it..." He trailed off. "I don't know."

The first looked between them. "What, we have no idea what we're doing? But..." She held out her hands. "I mean... you've been on the run for a while!"

"Yeah, well... I might look like our new goddess, but that doesn't give me a scrap of divine wit." She prodded the pan. "Dinner's ready, by the way."

The second reached out with a fork, spearing some sausage. The first looked between the two others.

"Alright. So... we need a goal. Or a set of goals. What is it that we want. Really want?"

"Not to have people worshiping me for someone else's deeds," the woman muttered.

"Not to have to endure a new reason for idiocy," the man grumbled.

"Not to have to worry constantly about some new magical threat," the girl finished.

"It sounds to me," said a new voice, "that you want magic to go into hiding."

The three stood suddenly as a fourth figure strode out of the night's darkness.

"Who are you?" The man peered at the figure. "What are you?"

"Ah, a gentleman who notices details. My story is... complex. But, suffice it to say, I know what needs to be done to restore what you once considered the norm." Teeth gleamed in the firelight. "All I need to do is find something small and precious, and I can assure you that your world will be magicless once more."

Author's Note:

Don't ask me. Weaver isn't spilling.

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