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A version of me has been here before. Not this version. |
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This is my......bazillionth blog. Maybe it will last... Wish in one hand...  
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"Welcome To My Reality Forum"  January 2025 Prompt #67 Out of the ashes rose a hero. Write what I want about that. Usually with these blog challenge prompts, I read it and instantly get something in my head that I simply cannot move past no matter how much of the day the back of my mind devotes to the topic. This is one of those for sure. And this is what I instantly and quickly had play out in my mind… A city in ruins, not like recently ruined, but more like an ancient city reinhabited by some weird cross between an old school tramp riding the rails and some horribly cliche portrayal of old Romani women. You know - maybe dirty, maybe layered in much much clothing, perhaps even enough trinkets made into jewelry to clang and jingle with any movements. Maybe they aren’t trinkets, possibly they are teeth or the leg bones of babies. Only communicating within the city walls through symbols they carve or chalk on the eroded surfaces. They both live and try to remain hidden in the caves and nooks created by the crumbling monuments of old. Saving the navigable upper floors of the buildings for defensive warfare tactics unseen outside of this city. In the center is an out-of-place smoldering mountain of ash that suddenly explodes outward due to the inability of the very earth to contain the rage propelling the hero up. Bursting out, the ashes of the enemies to which he has just laid waste fly through the air coating the decaying edifices with a warning of what had happened there that day. No prompt..just me…. Listen – today I experienced the subtitle that made a shitty day better. Shitty in a few hundred small ways that would make other people roll their eyes at me. But hundreds of turds build a shit mountain. *hot boy mumbling That’s it. That’s all it was. But I adore it. Hot boys, mumbling. I wouldn’t mind living in the land where that is the only language spoken. OH MY GODS. It would look exactly like the city in the above prompt. No joke - exactly. Crumbling ruins. Dirty hot boys, somehow both dusty and sweaty, in tattered clothing engaging in berserker-style warfare. Mumbling incoherently because these specimens speak with a different part of their body. Okay so combine that shit. A dirty crumbling city of ruins. At first, it seems abandoned but in the stillness, one might catch a flicker of movement right on the edges of their vision. Hot boys, tanned to the shade of the sand and covered in the dust of ruins, dart in and out of the nooks and caves created by the crumbling monuments of old. An old Romani woman, head down and covered in scarves, limps through the half-arch left at the entrance of the city. She finds herself wholly unprepared for the blood-soaked berserker situation she has stumbled upon. Caught in the crossfire she ducks and spins, the sounds of the teeth strung around her neck twinkling among her calls to her gods. Suddenly a hero appears. Stepping in front of the old woman he stops tempering his rage and it explodes out of him like fiery fingers, grabbing and dragging anything near him to its death. As the rumbling stops and the old woman can begin to see through the smoke of hot boys’ unrealized dreams, she gasps at the enormous pile of ash left in front of her. Tears streak down her dirt-caked face at the realization that such a hero has also been lost. With no sound at all, she found herself witness to the inability of the very earth to contain the residues of rage propelling the hero up. As he burst forth from the ashes of the enemies to which he laid waste, they fill the air, coating the decaying edifices with a warning of what had happened there that day and burying the old woman. |
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