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I do not understand these creatures. These… Humans. Sometimes it is hard to remember their proper name. Other cultures have taken to calling these bipeds by another name, one that comes from their own culture: Orcs. Apparently it has something to do with an old Human gag from when they still inhabited their home planet.

The Humans are incredibly contradictory. Two individuals, no matter how far flung from their origin, will almost always find each other. They band together like they had known each other their entire lives, despite being complete strangers. Some even display this behavior with other bipeds who share even a passing resemblance to themselves! They crave companionship, thirst for it like salt or water. A Human left alone for extended periods often loses their grasp on reality, becoming irreparably scarred. Some have managed to bond with Artificial Intelligences even to stave off this fate, projecting personalities onto virtual constructs with no sense of self.

With this hunger for comradery, any observer would assume the entire race to be close knit, almost as a single family unit. However, in studying the histories I could get my hands on, an entirely different tale was told. Before they ventured into space, groups of humans were separated into their own sections of land. Some of this segregation is understandable: before inventing electronic communication, how would a land bound species be expected to communicate reliably when the planet they inhabit is primarily water? Other times, however, they drew arbitrary lines across their land and forbid others from crossing. They built magnificent structures and technological marvels with the sole purpose of keeping other humans away from their piece of the planet. Even after they spread into their solar system, peace lasted only a decade before they developed racial slurs for Earthborn and Marsborn humans. Any time a group of more than a hundred humans gathered, this unknowable effect took hold of them and generated suspicion and fear, directed at anyone not a part of their own group.

Perhaps it is not fair to compare these grouped humans and the ones we see in our ports and homes. Perhaps they should be considered different entities after all? The individuals we are familiar with are solitary. They travel in small clusters or alone, and work as couriers, traders, or bounty hunters, and seek companionship in brief meetings and short rests. These are a different breed than the humans who settle on a planet or moon and stake a claim. Perhaps they are not humans at all. Perhaps they are Orcs in truth.

Keep out of trouble.

You’d think that would be an easy New Year’s resolution to keep, right? Keep your head down, don’t look for fights, and let the other heroes have their moment in the limelight. For just one year, take a break from all that high profile nonsense. I needed a break after all, there’s only so much hero work you can do before it starts to wear you down. I just needed some time to be a normal citizen, living my own life.

Easy.

I sighed into the tiles of the bank floor, flexing the fingers laced behind my head as I tried to tune out the man standing over me. He was waving his gun around at us as he shouted profanities to try and keep us in line. I scowled to myself and let my eyes wander to the teller windows. Another man was standing there, leaning against the counter and chatting with the girl behind the glass, acting for all the world like he was just flirting with her. Shifting my gaze to her, I saw a blank expression and a slight smile on her face as she calmly filled his bag with money. I figured he had some kind of hypnosis power, likely related to his voice, and turned my attention to the door.

Keeping himself pressed against the wall, a third man watched the street through the glass of the doors, occasionally looking back at the other two with worried glances. He held his gun down near his waist, seeming reluctant to point it at anyone else. He would probably hesitate to fire if it came down to a shootout.

A small scuff brought my focus back to the hostage group, and I turned my head slightly to see another man reaching into his jacket pocket. I wanted to hiss at him for risking his life and others’ like that, but I couldn’t warn him without alerting the hostage-taker, who was thankfully looking the other way. As I watched him, the man carefully removed a phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen, then slid the device under his stomach. I saw him moving his hand while eyeing our captor, sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

Then the phone started ringing.

Everything stopped suddenly. The only sounds in the building were the ringing and the sound of money being moved. Our captor slowly turned toward the sound and leveled his weapon at the man, his eyes flickering over the others around him.

“Give it.” He said, gesturing with the barrel of his gun. “Hand it over right now.”

Wincing, the man slid his phone out from under his body, tossing it to the armed man, landing it face up at his feet. The gunman looked down at it, his eyes slowly filling with rage.

“You were calling the cops? Don’t you know that’s a really stupid idea? Why, someone might take offense to that!” He jabbed his gun toward the man as he spoke, and I decided it was time to stop this before someone got hurt.

So much for my resolution.

“What the hell are you doing, dumbass?” our guard said as I slowly rose to my feet. “Get the hell back on the floor!”

Instead of listening to him, I placed my hands in my pockets and spoke calmly, not to him but at him.

“The gunman fired on the newcomer in fury,” I said, feeling the air around me grow heavy with power, “but incredibly not a single shot hit anybody, instead burying themselves into the wall.”

In anger, the man fired at me as I stood calmly, looking him in the eyes as the gunshots crashed in the enclosed space, sending people screaming and scrambling for cover. I waited, unconcerned, as he emptied his magazine at me, missing with every shot. By the time his ammo ran out my head was pounding with the effort of fixing so many events, even if they were only little nudges. The man looked frightened, realization dawning on his face as he realized who he must be facing, and I knew I would have to get a new secret identity after this. He fumbled in his pocket for a new magazine, but wound up dropping it on the floor in his haste.

“In terror, the man dropped his weapon to the ground.” I said, no power building around me this time as I watched him calmly. Even without being able to use my power directly on him, the man obeyed, terror performing an admirable substitute. I saw his partner at the door raising his weapon, already shaking with fear of his own as the man at the counter seemed to be rushing, but still didn’t break eye contact with the woman he was influencing. Her face no longer held a contented smile, instead now vapid and empty as he likely increased his control over her. I would deal with him afterward.

I turned to the man at the door, watching as the first man barreled past him and out into the street. I committed his face to memory for the police to handle later. The man at the door cowered with just a look, and I pulled my hand from my jacket and pointed meaningfully at the ground. Slowly, the man crouched down and placed his gun on the floor, sliding it off into a corner as he backed through the door. Satisfied, I turned to the third problem of the day, seeing him take the bag from the Teller and hand her a gun that looked for all the world like a toy. It even had an orange ring painted around the barrel.

“Not so fast, nice guy,” He called, pointing one finger at me then moving it over to point at the woman, “If you say even one word or take one step, this pretty little girl will blow her head all over that window! We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He sneered at me as he began backing away. “Once I’m far enough away, she’ll come back to herself.” He snickered as he turned and headed toward the back of the building, likely having memorized the exits. I waited calmly, not moving an inch as he went.

Eventually, I saw the woman’s eyes light up again, filling first with confusion, then terror as she pushed the gun across the counter and ran away. After stopping to make sure everyone else was unharmed, I opened my phone and tapped an app on my home screen, a strangely popular game called Randocation where you were given a random location from a map and had to guess where it was. Personally, I had my own uses for the game. As it loaded, I cleared my throat and gathered power again.

“Surprisingly, as the app opened it showed me where the escaped criminal planned to go.”

It took a few seconds for the app to finish loading, and as it did I reached into my pocket and slid a couple headache pills in my head, rubbing my temple with one hand. I probably only had a couple more changes in me today, after stopping that hail of gunfire.

My phone chimed as a building popped up on the screen, and I left through the front door and skipped to the address screen as I set off at a jog.

I wound up in front of a small, decrepit house. The walls were covered in graffiti and most of the windows were either broken or boarded up. The front door was locked, but one of the boarded windows came loose easily, and I had no trouble climbing inside. I moved between piles of refuse to a door that was hanging open, almost falling off the hinges. Before I moved on, I stopped to prepare myself before the inevitable confrontation. First I sent a short text to a friend, then taking a deep breath, I whispered to myself as I gathered power one last time.

“Despite everything, I had managed to catch the man asleep and alone.”

As quietly as I could, I pushed open the tilted door and crept into the space beyond. The room was bare, and I could see my target sound asleep on a dingy couch in the corner. Stepping lightly and trying to focus around my once more growing headache as I approached, I carefully fished a set of zip-ties out of my inner pocket. I reached out to take hold of the man’s arm.

And all hell broke loose.

A blaring alarm sounded right next to my ear, crashing through my already throbbing brain and almost physically knocking me sideways. I brought myself under control as fast as I could, but by the time I focused back on the criminal he already had a gun in my face, blinking the haze from his eyes.

“Not so fast, Wonder-kid. Say one word and I’ll blow your mouth open permanently.” He jabbed the pistol toward me as he spoke, standing and pressing the barrel against my head. “Did you really think you would sneak up on me like this? You hero types are one-trick ponies. You find something that works and don’t change it until someone comes along who can beat you at your own game.”

With his free hand, he reached down and grabbed something, silencing the horrendous alarm. Pulling it out where I could see it, I groaned inwardly as he revealed he had foiled my plan with a tiny motion sensor, practically a child’s toy. Apparently I’d have to concede his point about being somewhat predictable.

Somewhat.

I quirked my eyebrow at him, not taking the risk of speaking in case he was serious about his threat.

“I assume you’re asking ‘what now?’” He translated, circling around behind me. I nodded and took the chance to slide my hand into my pocket, grasping the object I had taken from the bank earlier. I just had to keep him distracted now.

“Well what happens now depends on you. Either you sit here quietly like a good little sidekick, and I escape to continue living my life how I see fit, or you do something stupid and I get to see if you bleed red like the rest of us. Either way, I get to walk out of here.”

“Counter offer,” I began, ignoring the futile click of the pistol’s hammer behind my head. I quickly spun and brought my fist down on top of his wrist, forcing him to drop the gun. Using my both hands to grab his wrist and shoulder, I pivoted my foot behind his and shoved against him as I turned, toppling him and following him down. He ended up face down on the floor as I yanked both of his arms toward me.

“You come with me now.” I finished. “You’re lucky I’m not a violent man. You’ve basically ruined my vacation before I even got into it.”

“H-how?” He coughed, struggling against my grip. “You never said anything!”

“Sometimes luck just happens.” I replied, seeing the flashing blue lights of the cars I had called for against the interior wall. Making sure the man was securely tied and facing away, I pulled the pencil and piece of paper out of my pocket, glancing down at them. The handwriting was shaky and almost illegible, but clear enough to have worked.

Unfortunately for the man, the round in his pistol was a dud.

I crammed the paper and pencil down into the sofa cushions before anybody saw me. After all, it wouldn’t do me any good if the ace up my sleeve was found out.

“And you just happened to be at the scene again?” asked Detective Marshal, eying me sidelong as he handed me back my Hero License. I didn’t blame him for having to check, I had changed my face since he last saw me. The flashing blue lights lent an eerie sense to the scene, as the sun had already sunk below the horizon and the uniformed police lowered the man I had caught into a car. The detective motioned at the scene before continuing, “We’ve been trying to catch Nicholson there for weeks, and you just happened to show up at a bank he was robbing? What happened to taking a break from all this Hero business?”

“Like I’ve said before, the universe has a sense of humor.” I explained dejectedly, “I can control the things I think about, but Fate always finds a way to get back at me. I’m convinced someone actually watches me and puts these people in front of me on purpose.”

“Hmm,” hedged Marshal, sounding entirely unconvinced, “Well, we have it from here. Feel free to get back to your vacation. You’ll work yourself to death at this rate.”

I hummed back at him as I turned to walk home. Tomorrow I would need to go see Janine for another new identity, and perhaps a misdirection charm from Miss Know-mer. If I was right about the Fate thing, I was going to need all the help I could get to keep my identity a secret. I sighed in defeat as I walked, lamenting my broken resolution.

@sarcastic-pasta-games

"Heh," I chuckled softly as I pushed myself away from the computer, wiping a tear from my still misty eyes. "That wasn't even about me and I'm still crying. It's not fair you know."

"Of course it's fair," said a voice behind me. A freshly familiar voice to my ears. After all, it had come from my own mind.

"This game was made with love. Of course you felt the emotion in it." Jenny said, looking exactly as she had in the game, "It's only natural that you'd be affected by it."

I had to resist the urge to reach out and pat her on the head, since that would be both kinda rude and really weird, considering she was mostly a figment of my imagination. She was right that the game had affected me strongly, but that feeling couldn't stay forever. Already I could see her fading away, drifting into my subconscious where she would be only another voice feeding me ideas and advice. Behind her, grinning like a fool, Cliff waved to me. I smiled back to them, happy that my two newest muses were people I would have loved if they were real.

I relaxed back into my chair as they faded completely from my view, contemplating myself. I used to hate watching characters I had grown to love fade away, I had felt like their souls were leaving and they would never be the same as they were the first time I saw them. No matter how many times I read a book or played a game, the characters would always fall flat after the first time, like seeing a memory rather than experiencing something. But as I grew, I started writing, and their voices had flooded back through me onto the page. I was never really alone again, I had thousands of friends, loves, enemies and mentors, all with me forever in my mind.

As I moved over to my bed and sat propped up on my headboard, I opened my laptop and began to write. At first the words didn't want to come, but slowly, as I closed my eyes and sorted through the voices in my head, the two of them were louder than the rest. I could even still see their faces if I tried.

"You should write something fun, with explosions and rabbits!" Cliff said, rubbing his upper lip with one finger as he beamed at me. "Or maybe something Scifi, with lasers!"

"Maybe later," I hedged, smiling slightly, "That doesn't really fit my mood right now."

"How about you do some self reflection?" Jenny suggested, folding her hands behind her back. "I know it's not easy for you to open up, but you've been feeling lonely lately. You've been sharing your stories, but those don't really show people who you are yourself, not the real you."

I had to admit she had a point. I had been avoiding writing anything too personal for a long time, and maybe that was part of why I had been feeling melancholy and not really myself. Besides, I didn't have it in me to say no to a pretty face, so I started typing. The words flowed from my fingertips, almost appearing on the page before I had fully thought them out, and the voices in my head faded into background noise as the story took hold. Before long I was nearing the end, trying to find a way to wrap it up. It felt like no time at all had passed and while it wasn't the longest I had written in a sitting, it wasn't nothing either.

"Good," Jenny said approvingly. I paused for a second and tried to hold onto her image, not wanting to let her or cliff fade into my subconscious quite so soon. "Stop that," She chided, reflecting my own thoughts, "That's how people go mad, a bit at a time. If we didn't fade away, there'd come a time when you couldn't tell us apart from real people. Let go and remember, like always."

Cliff piped up again, and I smiled again as he talked. "I like the story, makes you sound a bit crazy though. Do you think you'll be able to share it?"