AntoineBruce

Origin story? Origin story?! You want an origin story? I swear, you save the world two or three times, and all people want to know is how you came to be. You don't care about that it happens, and why it happens, just how it happens. Well, you know what? I'll do it! That's right, I'm succumbing to peer pressure, something some of the more kid-friendly heroes out there would probably disapprove of, but who cares about them, right? So then, one fresh, piping hot origin story coming right up! Here we go! I'm bored. There it is! Stop the presses! Call the networks! The secret's out! The cat's so far out of the bag it's osmosed into some kind of

"I'm not you, okay? I'm not you. I've never been you. I never want to be you! I just want to be me!" --- I was named after my father's great-grandmother. She rose from a young age to become a commander in the king's army, and not only has she been heralded by her descendants as a woman to aspire toward, but my birth took place a century to the day of her fall in battle. My parents saw this confluence of events as a sign, and named me after her, told me tales of her at every possible opportunity. It wouldn't be so bad if we were even remotely alike. Delkia Frostweaver was a proud front-line combatant, strong as an ox, tough as granite and t

"Approximately twenty-five years ago, extraterrestrials first made contact," the scientist explained. "It was melodious, but indecipherable sound. We released it to an unknowing world hoping someone would crack the code." "Really? I've never heard it." He pressed play, and for the millionth time I heard Super Mario Bros. World 1-1.

She was charming, witty, intelligent, and beautiful. I had to ask her out. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't do that." "Ah. Boyfriend?" "It's not that. I'm an NPC.  I'm not programmed to move from this spot." I paused, stunned. "Oh. That's terrible." Slowly she nodded. "I really have to pee."