Fantasy alter ego.

Frank Peterson · Oct 6, 2023

Instead of writing about my loneliness and how hopeless I am, I decided to write a story of what I am not; my opposite, and maybe what I wish I could be. The fantasy part is just for freedom, and to make enything possible, and is a nice contrast to realities confinement and how trapped I feel.

If you could be a fictional or fantasy character that has none of your loneliness or other problems, who would they be? What would they be like?

Here's mine (And yes, I know it's long, but I'm bored so just skip or ignore):

I kiss Anna tenderly on her cheek, then whisper in her ear to pray for me, and she whimpers at the words. As I draw away she pulls me closer and hugs me and quickly shares a prayer. I tell her everything will be fine and wipe the tear from her face; I hate to see her cry. I kiss little Samuel on the forehead and the baby smiles widely as he looks up at me from the crib, wholly unaware of the situation that is about to unfold.

As I walk over to the door, heading for the armory to collect my raiment, I glance at the letter on the table that came by runner in the early hours of this morning, then I glance back at my family and Anna is now holding the baby, her red hair blowing in the wind as I open the door. The sight of them has a part of me wish that the letter never came, but my faith boils over spilling out of my heart like a flooding river, replacing that feeling with holy resolve. I stand as holy paladin before god and king, and I will suffer no filth or corruption in these lands. As I cross the courtyard towards the armory I repeat the kings orders in my head:

"Sir Reginald of Ravenhollow, thou art summoned by command of king William the just, by holy decree and the trust of cardinal Ludwig, the mouthpiece of our holy Father, to support our troops who are reporting massive casualties in the Weeping forest.

Reports are of a multitude of enemy forces spilling over the southern border, forces of an unnatural kind, specifically that of great numbers of goblin venom infantry, four legions if reports are correct, of which the vile leader is said to command five or six hundred dire bears and shadow cursed wolves, all no doubt commanded by the Whitch Queen herself.

Though we do not call on you lightly, sir Reginald, the situation is most dire and our ranks are routed. We trust the very sight of you will embolden the men, and cause the enemy falter, and the weak and wounded will benefit from your healing radiance. We beg you hasten to the front and strike at the filth with Soulrender, our most holy sword, your familial birthright. We have dispatched your shield from the capitol, the priests have blessed it as is the custom, and will deliver it to you at fort Velan with haste. May its blessings aid you in the purge."

As I put on the glinting gold trimmed armor, the words of the letter ignites my eyes, and the whole armory is illuminated by their radiance. I slide the helmet on and smile, as I recite my soul word mantra and Soulrender materialises in my hand; the mighty sword shines as it reflects the light from my eyes, and it speaks to me as in days of old, and it looks forward to strike down the encroaching evil....

(Faith, strength, reliability, courage, resolve, meaning, family, love, destiny - all things I wish I had but I can only imagine.)

isthatso · Oct 6, 2023

I didn't read it all but I like your spirit. Whatever works!

TropicalStarfish · Oct 6, 2023

isthatso said:
I didn't read it all but I like your spirit. Whatever works!

******' read it lol. It's a few paragraphs

TropicalStarfish · Oct 6, 2023

It's 12:00am, and I sit, waiting for, what to me, is the night train. I'm alone, but, there are others around. A small family sits in the next benches over, a young father and mother, and their sleeping baby. To my left is a young couple; her weary head rests gently on her man's, who seems to be a bit weary himself. Another man to the left is pacing back and forth, engaged in what appears to be a casual, yet intimate conversation. And another man stands off by a pillar, smoking a cigarette. I like the night. They sometimes say, "the weirdos come out at night;" but, if like me, you fancy yourself a creature of the night, you realize, we're all that weirdo, they speak of. Some more so than others, perhaps. Some louder, some quieter than others, perhaps. But, for whatever reason, something about the night, just seems more, 'alive.'

Everything I own is packed into a duffel bag, a suitcase, and briefcase. Well, not everything. I always make arrangements for my other belongings before-hand. I have them shipped from place to place. Or, I'll have a friend, if I happen to have any at the time, hold on to them for me, if they need a place to stay. I keep it all in a pretty sturdy cardboard box. The box changes from time to time; but, the contents remain mostly the same. Oddly enough, it's this box, alone, that has my most treasured sentimental possessions. And that's odd because, it's the one collection of things I don't carry with me, and am most likely to lose. I haven't lost it yet, though. The absolute essentials are in my duffelbag. The essentials I could live without for a short period of time, are in my suitcase. And my briefcase has my Laptop, various electronics, and so forth.

I decided to head on over to the man who's smoking, and light up a cigarette myself. "Where you headed," he says, in a bit of a pessimistic tone.
"I'm making my way towards Portland, ultimately," I respond casually, exhaling a dense smoke, mixed with the cool night air.
"Oh yeah? Nice weather up there, I suppose, if you like the rain."
"I don't not like it. I haven't experienced much rain in a long time. How about yourself? Where are you headed?"
"Oh, I'm just making my way back to California. There's been a death in the family. I'll be making various arrangements and probably staying indefinitely. My brother will need some one to care for him. I figured I could take the train, rather than fly, and give myself some time to clear my head. There will be a lot of changes to come."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Eh, why be sorry? I know it's a figure of speech; thanks. These things happen though."

Neither of us said anything for a few moments after that. He took his last puff off his cigarette and nodded to me, "Well, nice chattin' good luck to you man. See ya 'round"
"You too, take it easy," I replied.

I generally only stay in one place for a few years. The shortest amount of time I spent in one place was about six months. It started off bad, and didn't seem it was going to improve. About the longest I stayed in one place was about three and a half years. The last half a year was longer than I should have stayed; but, I didn't want to go. I could see ahead though. Had I given it another six months, it wouldn't have been what it was before. Any reason to stay at that point would have been gone; and I didn't want to get stuck.

I like moving. I mean, I don't necessarily like the moving part itself. Fortunately I've got it down to a bit of a science, at this point, so, it's rarely all that difficult, beyond just the necessary odds and ends one must attend to. Life is change though. Rivers for example: they move, they shift, sometimes they dry up, and sometimes they overflow and flood; and the water they contain is always on the move. So, it works for me. I'm sociable. I enjoy people. But, I'm also a private person, a thinking man. Usually I'm able to find friends within the first few weeks. If I'm unlucky, I make no friends, and kind of have to rough it on my own; but, even then, I manage to make with acquiantances, people I can earn favor with, at the least. I manage.

I am hoping to settle down, though. Pick one place, and leave it at that. Or, perhaps go back and forth between two places; but, I haven't found the first yet, much less the second. The right lady could give me reason enough to stay, as well, I imagine. I don't know where she is though. Maybe if I'd stick around longer than a few years, she'd show up. Maybe she's out there, like me, moving from place to place, and we just keep missing each other. Or, maybe I missed her. Perhaps she settled down already, got married, started a family. Whatever the case, I count myself lucky, anyhow.

I have my wits. I have freedom. And I'm a character in a world full of characters. I wouldn't have it any other way. And I'll find her someday. We'll have a cabin out in the snowy woods, for when we want to get away. And we'll have a place on the outskirts of the city, for when we need our fill of society. One of these days, I'll find her. As for now, I do sometimes think I'm the luckiest man in the world. Me, everything I own by my side, a nice pair of shades, an eagerness to roam, a hunger for experience and knowledge, and a thirst for life. Simplicity. The best things in life are often free: a chat with a stranger, fresh air, and places to roam.

isthatso · Oct 6, 2023

TropicalStarfish said:
It's 12:00am, and I sit, waiting for, what to me, is the night train. I'm alone, but, there's others around. A small family sits in the next benches over, a young father and mother, and their sleeping baby. To my left is a young couple; her weary head rests gently on her man's, who seems to be a bit weary himself. Another man to the left is pacing back and forth, engaged in what appears to be a casual, yet intimate conversation. And another man stands off by a pillar, smoking a cigarette. I like the night. They sometimes say, "the weirdos come out at night;" but, if like me, you fancy yourself a night owl, you realize, we're all that weirdo, they speak of. Some more so than others, perhaps. Some louder, some quieter than others, perhaps. But, for whatever reason, something about the night, just seems more, 'alive.'

Everything I own is packed into a duffel bag, a suitcase, and briefcase. Well, not everything. I always make arrangements for my other belongings before-hand. I have them shipped from place to place. Or, I'll have a friend, if I happen to have any at the time, hold on to them for me, if they need a place to stay. I keep it all in a pretty sturdy cardboard box. The box changes from time to time; but, the contents remain the same. Oddly enough, it's this box, alone, that has my most treasured possessions. And that's odd because, it's the one collection of things I don't carry with me, and am most likely to lose. I haven't lost it yet, though. The absolute essentials are in my duffelbag. The essentials I could live without for a short period of time, are in my suitcase. And my briefcase has my Laptop, various electronics, and so forth.

I decided to head on over to the man who's smoking, and light up a cigarette myself. "Where you headed," he says, in a bit of a pessimistic tone.
"I'm making my way towards Portland, ultimately," I respond casually, exhaling rich smoke.
"Oh yeah? Nice weather up there, I suppose, if you like the rain."
"I don't not like it. I haven't experienced much rain in a long time. How about yourself? Where are you headed?"
"Oh, I'm just making my way back to California. There's been a death in the family. I'll be making various arrangements and probably staying indefinitely. My brother will need some one to care for him. I figured I could take the train, rather than fly, and give myself some time to clear my head. There will be a lot of changes to come."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"Eh, why be sorry? I know it's a figure of speech; thanks. These things happen though."

Neither of us said anything for a few moments after that. He took his last puff off his cigarette and nodded to me, "Well, nice chattin' good luck to you man."
"You too, take care," I replied.

I generally only stay in one place for a few years. The shortest amount of time I spent in one place was six months. It started off bad, and didn't seem it was going to improve. About the longest I stayed in one place was about three and a half years. The last half of the year was longer than I should have stayed; but, I didn't want to go. I could see ahead though. Had I given it another six months, it wouldn't have been what it was before. Any reason to stay at that point would have been gone; and I didn't want to get stuck.

I like moving. I mean, I don't necessarily like the moving part itself. Fortunately I've got it down to a bit of a science, at this point, so, it's rarely all that difficult, beyond just the necessary odds and ends one must attend to. Life is change though. Rivers for example: they move, they shift, sometimes they dry up, and sometimes they overflow and flood; and the water they contain is always on the move. So, it works for me. I'm sociable. I enjoy people. But, I'm also a private person. Usually I'm able to find friends within the first few weeks. If I'm unlucky, I make no friends, and kind of have to rough it on my own; but, even then, I manage to make with acquiantances, people I can earn favor with, at the least.

I am hoping to settle down, though. Pick one place, and leave it at that. Or, perhaps go back and forth between two places; but, I haven't found the first yet, much less the second. The right lady could give me reason enough to stay, as well. I don't know where she is though. Maybe if I'd stick around longer than a few years, she'd show up. Maybe she's out there, like me, moving from place to place; and we just keep missing each other. Or, maybe I missed her. Perhaps she settled down already, got married, started a family. Whatever the case, I count myself lucky.

I have my wits. I have freedom. And I'm a character in a world full of characters. I wouldn't have it any other way. And I'll find her someday. We'll have a cabin out in the snowy woods, for when we want to get away. And we'll have a place on the outskirts of the city, for when we need our fill of society. One of these days, I'll find her. As for now, I do sometimes think I'm the luckiest man in the world. Me, everything I own by my side, a nice pair of shades, an eagerness to roam, a hunger for experience and knowledge, and a thirst for life.