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EvisceratedInFiction t1_j2345zn wrote

“Nothing is more common than unsuccessful people with talent.” - Calvin Coolidge

“Babe, are you even paying attention? We’re losing the light.”

Jeff/Babe stood the perfect distance away from her, his phone outstretched, and vertical, obviously. Every few seconds he would move slightly backwards or forwards to let passersby pass by. He even had a perfectly crafted embarrassed apologetic smile he flashed to each of them.

Click. Click. Click.

“Yeah, it’s done.”

She put her hands on her hips.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way you got a good one. You barely lined it up.”

Jeff’s girlfriend approached him like a train transporting acid with no brakes. She reached out to turn the phone’s screen towards her.

“Oh. Wow! They’re so good, babe!”

Of course they were. They’re always perfect. But if he ever told her why, she’d never leave him alone.

“You’re the best! Thanks, Camera Man!”

He rolled his eyes. Camera Man. Is that all he was? What about Jeff? Clarke Kent was a great journalist. Lois didn’t go down on him just for his laser eyes. Tony Stark was a very successful business owner, not just a weapon to be pointed in a specific direction. Like him. Like…Camera Man.

They both looked up as a scream pierced the calm of the outdoor cafe street.

“Help! Help! That guy stole my purse! He’s getting away!”

Click. Click. Click.

A few minutes later he was explaining to the police, “Yes, officer, it was a happy coincidence. I just happened to snap a picture of the thief’s face. I’m sure you can figure out who it is from here.”

“You’re a hero!” they said.

“So is CCTV.”

. . .

“Jeff, you’ve been working on this team for a few months and we gotta say, you’re doing an amazing job. We’ve had nine influencers reach a million followers this month, and we can all agree,” he nodded to the team standing behind Jeff, “it’s in large part because of your photos. What can we do to make you happier?”

People say it’s not easy working as a social media manager, but they’re wrong, it is easy. He could finish a photo shoot in a few minutes. He could make Kim Dotcom look like Kim Kardashian. But where was the challenge?

“Can I be moved to content writing? I’ve got some great ideas for post titles.”

The self-proclaimed CEO and the woman from HR standing beside him glanced at each other.

“Well, umm, no. We need you here, taking pictures, you see? We can’t afford to let you go.” He waved the team out the door. “But we can pay you more. You want your own office? You want to work from home? You’re our Camera Man, after all!”

Shove it, he thought.

“More money would be great, thanks.”

. . .

His mom danced from the kitchen counter to the table.

“Here you are my love. Pancakes! And no bananas because I know how much you hate them.”

“Thanks, mom, you’re the best. I’m sorry I’ve been so down lately, I think it’s my midlife crisis.”

“I’ve been having one of those myself actually. Have you seen the cat by the way?”

Click. Click. Click.

“He’s in the backyard sleeping.”

“You always know everything!”

He dove into the pancakes with his fork and knife.

“Can you have a midlife crisis in your 50s, mom?”

“Firstly, screw you. But I’m serious, I get a weird feeling your dad isn’t interested in me these days.”

Click. Click. Click.

“He’s certainly interested in his new dental assistant."

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Dbootloot t1_j22ovp7 wrote

She moved like the wind as it crossed and twisted its way through the labyrinth of a mountain pass. Her feet clambered from rock to rock, barely keeping traction against the damp stone. When you watched someone like Kayce it was hard to acknowledge they were human - your eyes and brain clambered over and disputed that fact. She was something more in that moment; she was the fury and passion of each person coming and gone set to motion.

​

The camera whirred imperceptibly softly as the lens articulated itself softly around its bevel to keep her in frame as she dashed onward. Grym felt the smile which had planted itself among his sharp features widen. Some things you really, truly, just had to see for yourself.

​

"Grym! Dude, are you fucking getting this?" hissed Tory. The entire crew was entranced - they watched Kayce with all the fascination of cavemen looking into the sky and observing the stars. Objects who's power and beauty was familiar through exposure, yet totally foreign in both their mystery and their magnitude.

​

Grym only nodded. His fingers gripped the sides of his camera tighter, battling to make the necessary minute adjustments and tweaks to preserve the run in its purest form. Though he would never claim it be anything impressive, there was skill to this. There was skill in being the keeper of events.

​

Kayce reached the crux of the course. The large fissure carved into the earth met with a second perpendicular one up ahead. The intersection was a mess of exposed geodes and spires. Behind each apparent jutting finger of the earth lay more hidden obstacles cloaked in the perilous shadow of their counterparts.

​

Canyon running hadn't been around for too long - about as long as the Sundering itself. Grym looked at the whole thing with a strange sort of reverence. In many ways it was the ultimate expression of humanity. Even after the surface of their planet had been marred and disfigured from the jagged hot beams cast out at it from the recesses of the cosmos, they managed to find joy in it. They sought even more challenge.

​

Kayce grunted loudly as she made the first leap. She performed a hitching maneuver. Classically this would be frowned upon. Though hitching into a new section provided the runner with staggering momentum, it also left them perilously committed to their maneuver. Blasted off from a strong double legged kick, torso positioned forward and arms tucked, there was no room for deviation once rocketed forward.

​

A number of the crew members audibly drew breath. It would be a terrible, perhaps lethal blunder for any less skilled. Kayce, however, was not like anyone else. Not really.

​

She flew into the pit of exposed stone, somehow squeezing through a gap in the impossibly complex geometry. As she passed through the first layer of treacherous stone, she extended her left arm with nearly impossible precision to push of an overhanging stalagmite. This course corrected her to miss the teeth of the sharp crystalline structure which had hungrily watched her approach.

​

As she passed the crystal monolith, her foot grazed its surface. The friction slowed her just enough to arc her downward, her hair harmlessly breezing against the rock shelf which had seemed poised to crack her skull.

​

As she approached the last section, her eyes flitted back and forth. They scanned for any possible opening. Such was the nature of canyon running; decisions made in seconds determined the fate of the runner. Mistakes weren't permissible - at least not without paying a hefty price.

​

Though the other crew members might not have caught it, Grym felt his stomach suddenly knot as his hawkish eyes observed her take a second scan. A second scan which was a few milliseconds too late.

​

Kayce attempted to bring her knees to her chest, forming a ball which would barely pass through the small squarish opening in front of her. She barreled towards the opening at frightening speeds... and her knee caught against the uppermost portion of the rockface. Skin tugged against stone, eventually giving way to its unrelenting nature. Kayce yelped as she tumbled through the gap, leaving a trail of crimson in her wake.

​

[cont]

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Dbootloot t1_j22owp7 wrote

Her body tumbled through the empty air. The camera crew collectively squeaked in horror. All which was set in motion must eventually cease, though. Her now skewed trajectory raced towards a stone outcropping on the canyon floor below. Though none could see her final moments of descent, the resultant crash which echoed through the cramped canyon conveyed more than words could.

​

"Holy.. Holy shit. Holy shit!" bellowed Tory. Terren and Kilgo leapt to their feet, scrambling as they looked for... something, anything.

​

"Phone! Terren, the fucking satphone!" Tory shouted, snapping into action. Grym commended that - it was as much as anyone could do in the moment. At least, almost anyone.

​

Grym's body moved before his mind. His camera dropped behind him, a sickening cracking noise trailing in his wake. That's not going to be cheap, some part of his mind idly observed.

​

"Grym! Wha - Jesus Christ! What the hell - " the rest of Tory's words were lost to the wind as Grym jetted himself forward into the canyon. His shoes sought purchase on the rock, but found little yielded unto them. This run would be suicidal at best for a skilled runner in terf cleets. It was madness for an untrained cameraman in worn running shoes.

​

Yet, he bound forward. At least by his measure. To the crew above it practically seemed as if Grym ran in place and the world faltered and transformed itself to get out of his way. Though his shoes couldn't grip the stone, the fractional adjustments of his weights and inhuman speed made up for their transgressions.

​

Remember to breathe heavily. Falter where you can. Allow mistakes to be made. Yet, he did no such thing. Despite his careful planning and personal doctrine, his heart ushered him forward. There was no telling if Kayce was bleeding out below.

​

In what seemed no time at all Grym reached the crux of the canyon. He too performed a hitch into the conjoined space between canyons. It was with no small sense of admiration he moved his body exactly as Kayce had. Rare that I couldn't have done it better myself.

​

The wind itself made way for him as he pushed off the overhanging stalagmite. Breezing past it, his feet barely kissed the glimmering face of the crystal monolith. He passed under the overhanging rock ledge with all the grace employed by falcon navigating a cloudless sky.

​

Where Kayce had faltered though, Grym flew. To him, this was all in something like a slow stasis. He felt a small eternity rise and fall back into the recesses of time as his eyes delicately picked his route through the rock window. Rather than balling himself as Kayce had, he morphed his body into something akin to a diving pose and he glided hands first through the narrow opening in the stone and descended into the depths of the canyon.

​

He saw Kayce below. A pool of midnight crimson blood grew slowly against the stone floor, seeping softly around imperfections in the surface. Grym effortlessly let his feet skid against the sloping side of the canyon to slow himself, edgerunning to the bottom of the crevice.

​

He wasted no time. His hands tore off strips of his shirt with effortless strength, then deftly tied the cloth into neat bandages around her lacerated legs and midriff. Within a matter of minutes the bloodflow had been damned up and ceased.

​

"Sorry I didn't make it sooner," Grym uttered to the empty darkness.

​

Kayce's eyes flickered. "Grym - wha.. how the.. fu.. - " her sentence was never finished as her body once again succame to its numerous fresh wounds. Likely, she would imagine this to be some strange dream created by the flickering of a wounded mind.

​

Grym sighed softly in the dank depths of the canyon. It was, of course, better that way. He took one last long look at Kayce as she lie motionless in the dark underbelly of the earth. He was certain she was stable. Trauma teams would be able to retrieve her soon.

​

With that, he began to clamber and maneuver his way onward, towards the surface far away from his former companions.

​

I really thought she might be it. He goaded himself for such a foolish thought, though she had been magnificent. Oh, well. I'll get my race someday. Until then - farewell, Kayce.

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aevana t1_j22uq43 wrote

This response slaps! I really am interested in what sort of being Grym is too.

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Dbootloot t1_j22vnyr wrote

Thanks! I suppose in my head when trying to frame this world, Grym was something like the genesis to humanity - older than most other entities in the universe and looking for anything to be his equal, even if only in one skill or task.

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