Newgrounds.com — Everything, By Everyone.

Part 3

Robin's mind raced as he tried to think of what to say, what to do. His heart sank and he had no clue what action to take. He only knew this was all his fault. The giant panoramic glass windows to the cafeteria were being systematically pecked at and scratched with beaks and talons, the surface starting to crack and give in. It shattered and a sea of birds filled the room like a dark, feathered cloud, greeted by screams and mobs of people dispersing, trying desperately to escape. The ever shifting collage of wings and colors circled overhead with uniform collaboration, menacingly diving towards their targets in groups. Stragglers were engulfed in a blur of feathers as they collapsed, crying out desperately for help. Liam was cowering, sobbing on the ground in a fetal position. Robin grabbed him and pulled him underneath a lunch table, crouched, and hugged him close. He helplessly watched the feet of people trampling others, heard blood curdling screams from his friends being eaten alive, all under the haunting chorus of squawks and caws. Robin closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. He came to a decision.

The deafening racket had finally died down, replaced by the echo of wings flapping and hushed chirps and trills, and the uncomfortably organic sounds of the deceased being feasted upon. "Liam. It's going to be okay. I promise. You're going to be fine. Liam, look at me." Robin stated calmly. Liam, still quivering from shock, slowly raised his head and looked to his friend with bewilderment. Robin rubbed his friend's back as comfortingly as he could, whispering "I'm truly sorry for all this. I never meant to cause so much trouble. I don't ever expect you to forgive me, but I hope someday you will."

Liam was speechless, unable to make sense of anything that was happening. Robin took a deep breath, crawled out from under the table, and took in his surroundings. The cafeteria looked desolate, transformed into a scene from a post apocalyptic world. Signs of struggle and destruction were everywhere, the only humans in sight were being picked apart by groups of miscellaneous birds, moving only when prodded by eager beaks. Surrounding Robin was an army of feathered entities, all of various shapes, colors and sizes. Those that weren't occupied eating were standing on the floor or perched elsewhere in the cafeteria, their beady eyes all fixated on him. He slowly marched outside, the birds in his way fluttering to clear a path before returning to their statuesque stances, staring at him with emotionless countenance. "Where are you!?" Robin demanded fiercely as he stepped outside.

He felt more then he heard the responding rumble, and turned around. Monstrously gigantic talons gripped into the roof of Lincoln High. Robin maintained his footing as the ground rumbled below him from the deep, bellowing caw that reverberated out from the massive feathered deity that stood atop the school. It spread it's enormous, black wings outwards, casting a dark shadow that seemed to stretch out for miles, before settling and looked upon Robin with an otherworldly intensity. It's feathers were black as ebony with gray, colorless talons. Other then it's enormous size, the most striking feature was it's deep, gray eyes; they looked harsh and unforgiving. People in the surrounding neighborhoods looked on from a distance in disbelief, some hurriedly driving off, others hiding away in their homes. No one attempted to come any closer to the mythic bird. Sirens blazed in the distance, getting louder. The deity twisted its head nearly completely backwards to look.

"Please, leave them alone. I was wrong. I learned my lesson. I'll come home." Robin shouted. The gigantic bird returned his silent glare to the figure before him. Robin gripped hard at his scalp and forcefully pulled, flesh coming loose as he peeled it from his face. He squawked as he uncovered his beak, revealing a feathered figure as he pulled the strips of human skin away. He rustled his feathers and shook himself free, his true body black with gray eyes and talons, a human sized copy of the enormous avian before him. Liam had limped to the shattered window, witnessing the bizarre scene with an open jaw. He watched as the giant bird lifted off from the school and flew away, with Robin and the massive flock following behind.

Part 2

He looked at himself in the mirror, pale and tense, and his stomach roiled. A wave of nausea overtook him as he felt something hard and thick working it's way out of his throat. Something long and slimy and vaguely dark protruded from his mouth. He gagged, unable to breath. It grew longer and he coughed hard, splotches of crimson and a couple black feathers appearing in the sink. Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed at the dark mass in his mouth and grabbed it hard, knuckles white with exertion. Robin pulled at it, feeling sickening sensory information as the foreign object slid along the delicate tissues of his throat, every bit of it burning. Trails of blood and saliva traveled down his chin as he desperately pulled at the dark mass. He gagged as wet, feathered wings erupted from his mouth. A gargled, strained scream released as talons freed themselves from his facial orifice. The slick, black bird leaped casually from his face to the sink and turned to face him authoritatively. The Raven looked to him with cruel, judgmental eyes and let out a piercing screech and the world twisted into a misshapen, blurry maze that jutted off into every direction.

Robin released a frightened yelp as he jolted to consciousness. He struggled to catch his breath, covered in perspiration. He was seated at his desk in Mr. Stiles' class with everyone looking at him with concerned eyes, even his teacher. He looked to the window and only saw the apple tree, with a single black feather resting on a branch before the wind swept it away.

"Chicken wings. Of course it's chicken wings. Not hamburgers or pizza or anything that doesn't come from a feathered freak of nature." Robin's irritation was palpable. He shuffled through the lunch line with the enthusiasm of a funeral procession.

"You should be celebrating bro! You get to feast on your enemy, yeah?" Liam responded with playful cadence, smirking slyly. "Why do you think I don't eat animals? Because I hate plants so much that I want to eat them all!" Robin couldn't conceal his smile; Liam's optimism was infectious. They sat down at a picnic table outside, enjoying the serenity of fall weather as they chatted and joked about Robin's ornithophobia. He picked at his food, but Robin couldn't force himself to eat much after his earlier nightmare. The fried chicken was looking especially unappetizing. Liam grimaced as a shadow cloaked their table and slowly stretched further down the horizon. "Looks like it's threatening to storm. Lets bounce bro." Liam suggested, already getting up.

Robin agreed and followed suit. "Yeah, sounds g..." Robin was cut short by a high pitched shriek. They both turned and saw a freshmen girl running and screaming as a crow followed her, sneaking in pecks where it could. She stumbled and wildly waved her arms, the bird continuing it's harassment. "God damn, look at that!" he exclaimed, dropping his trey of uneaten food. Robin was mortified, frozen in place.

Liam wasted no time in darting towards her, immediately swatting at the bird with his empty tray. It dodged and bobbed, backing off a bit before redirecting it's attack to Liam. The crow strategically swooped in and pecked before retreating, then repeating it's maneuvers from another direction, black wings fluttering about. Liam grunted as its beak connected to his temple, drawing a trickle of crimson down the side of his face. A few wild swings followed, until he connected with a strike of his own with the full force of his lunch tray. An ugly squawk accompanied the sicking thud of the blow and the bird tumbled to the ground, alive but crippled, twitching sporadically. Liam hunched over and wiped his face, panting to catch his breath. An especially large group of vultures loomed overhead, circling. Robin finally snapped out of his stupor and approached his friend.

"Are you okay man? That was fucking intense!" Robin exclaimed, suddenly ashamed he hadn't acted sooner. A small group of onlookers were watching from a safe distance, all keeping their space and whispering amongst themselves.

"Yeah... I think I'm good. She needs to get to the nurse. Are you okay?" Liam was leaning over the bird's original target, setting his own well-being aside. She was seated on the ground, sobbing emphatically, and covered with more then a few scratches.

Robin didn't know her, but figured she was probably pretty cute in better circumstances. He was just about to reach over to help her up when the huge flock of vultures looming overhead caught his attention. He tilted his head back and his heart sank when he noticed it wasn't just vultures. The trees were thick with crows, ravens, blackbirds, hawks, condors, owls, falcons and eagles, among others he couldn't immediately name. They watched in silence, other then the occasional flutter of wings as they shifted positions, systematically flying from branch to branch, surrounding the courtyard from every direction. His mouth gaped open and he failed to form words. Silently, Robin reached over to Liam and tugged his shirt. Liam's eyes went wide as he took in their surroundings and an ominous orchestra of various birds echoed and reverberated throughout, caws and squawk and chirps eerily meshing. The group the scuffle had attracted were openly cursing and dispersing towards various entrances to the school.

"Robin, Jessica, c'mon!" Liam shouted as he started towards the cafeteria entrance, leading the traumatized girl by her hand. Countless wings shuffled and fluttered overhead as Robin sprinted after them. The massive multi-species flock were circling closer, tauntingly swooping in before retreating and flying overhead with alarming coordination. He felt feathers and talons brushing close by him, and he let out a loud scream and waved his arms to ward them off.

The girl who was just attacked had a similar reaction, swinging free from Liam's grip just before they reached the door, collapsing, flailing as she screamed incoherently. Liam turned and reached for her but a stray kick from her connected to his shin instead. "Fuck her! Just go!" Robin shouted as he grabbed his friend by his shirt and dragged him along. They hurriedly darted inside, along with a handful of various birds that glided in just before the door was quickly forced closed, several guys opting to continue holding it shut. An owl and a few other birds circled about the inside of the cafeteria, swooping and pecking at random students. Order gave way to discord as people ran and screamed, anything that could be thrown, was. Most of the debris was aimed at the birds, much of it hitting other people, adding to the chaos and confusion. Several fist fights were breaking out and some girl sat alone atop a table, cutting herself, tears streaking her otherwise apathetic face. Faculty struggled to yell over the ensuing anarchy, many of which were ignored, or worse, trampled. Robin collapsed and seated himself with his back to the door, helping keep it closed as he watched his classmates delving into madness.

"OH CHRIST! OH GOD, I can't believe this..." Liam cried out, mortified. He looked out the panoramic glass windows in horror, hands gripping his hair in anguish. Robin scrambled and crawled forward to join his friend, and overwhelming fear overtook him as he saw the sea of birds swarming outside. His stomach turned as he saw what his friend was watching; the girl he had tried to help was no longer struggling, simply being picked apart by vultures. She looked less like a human and more like strips from a slaughterhouse, sinews being ripped from her by beaks eagerly trying to take their share. Tears freely streaked Liam's face, and he collapsed to his knees, oblivious to the surrounding chaos. "Bro... Jessica... I cared about her, and now shes dead. What the fuck is this?!"

Ornithophobia
Part 1
"Look at those monsters. It's fucking disgusting, somebody should shoot them.âEU Robin groaned in a deep, gravelly voice as he eyed a flock of vultures picking away at the remains of a deer along the roadside. He reached for a nearby rock and chucked it towards them. Agitated, they shuffled briefly from the disturbance, only to return immediately to picking strips of flesh from the recently deceased. A sneer occupied his long, plain face as he lounged on the steps outside Lincoln High.

Liam nudged him playfully with his elbow. "Bro, cut it out. I know you have some deep, dark vendetta against birds or some shit, but they're doing us a favor. Nasty as vultures may be, they clean up roadkill which is way nastier.âEU he said with a vaguely Swedish accent. Liam, always the optimist, took every opportunity to debunk Robin's complaints. It was one of the reasons Robin liked hanging out with him.

He was not convinced. "Just look at those bastards. Look at them. Ever see a bird smile? Hell no, they just look pissed off all the time. Check out their feet, they're made to just tear shit up.âEU Robin pulled back his dark, curly hair into a pony tail, then gestured enthusiastically as he continued. "Think about it. They aren't cute and cuddly little sweethearts; those are dinosaurs, only fun sized and just as ready to raise hell given the chance.âEU He reached for another rock, but Liam's arm darted out and snatched it first.

Liam stood up in front of him, tossing the rock up and catching it. He grinned playfully, his blond hair and fair complexion only lending to his charmingly positive disposition. "That'll be enough of that bro. You know as resident vegetarian and general fan of animals, I can't let you do that. Save it for someone who deserves it.âEU

Robin shot him a skeptical glance. "Like hunters, mad scientists who test shampoos on chimpanzees, anyone who enjoys a good steak...âEU

"Especially assholes who think steak is good!âEU Liam exclaimed with a grin as he raised arm, posing to launch the rock at his friend.

With a laugh, Robin raised his hands in front of his face. "Alright Ace Ventura, you win! I'll leave your precious vultures alone! They're still ugly as sin though, you can't deny that!âEU

"I never said they were good looking,âEU Liam explained, his eyebrows rising for emphasis, "But Penguins... Those gentlemen have style!âEU

Robin responded with an exasperated sigh and hung his head. "Penguins? Really? Fuckin' Penguins? They waddle like dipshits man.âEU He was growing genuinely frustrated; Liam didn't get how much he hated birds.

"They waddle like dipshits...In tuxedos! Admit it bro, some bird shit on you when you were a kid and you just never got over it. It's not worth waging a war over, yeah?âEU Luke stated, leaning against a railing. Robin relaxed and leaned back next to him, watching the carrion birds picking away at the fleshy remains.

"I guess you could say they contributed to a traumatic childhood. Seriously, birds scare the shit out of me. Some people hate spiders, or big dogs, or whatever... I just can't handle birds. Everything about them makes my skin crawl.âEU He spoke to his friend softly as his eyes fixated on the gruesome feeding before them. Another pair of dark wings touched down near the flock, ignoring the fresh kill. It stood still, facing Robin, tilting its pink, misshaped head, as if it was staring directly at him. He felt his palms getting sweaty and he curled his fingers into a fist.

Liam patted him gently on the back. "Everyone has something that scares them bro. Don't let it get the best of you, yeah?âEU Robin smiled and nodded in return. Liam took a cursory glance around, and nudged his friend. "You know what's better then debating the merits of avian kind? Debating the merits of avian kind while high as a fucking kite.âEU

Robin's grin was wide. "Fuck some birds, lets get baked before homeroom.âEU

Later, Robin's tall, lanky frame lazily slouched at his desk, the barest smirk touching his lips. Biology was incredibly boring, but tolerable after sneaking in a smoke with Liam. Mr. Stiles droned on and on about the evolution of birds from dinosaurs called Theropods, but he wasn't going to let that bother him. Robin tried to tune out all that talk of fossils and tried to picture his teacher as a mad scientist. It wasn't that far of a stretch; he was an older man, balding, with thinning white hair that hung from the back of his cranium and matching eyebrows that darted out just off his face. His expression seemed to naturally rest on a scowl so all he really needed was a white lab coat and a lair full of equipment. Inspired, Robin made a rough sketch of Mr. Stiles as such, complete with a robot chicken strapped to a table and lightning striking in the background. He passed his artwork behind him, to Liam. His friend silently chuckled, and started making a doodle of his own.

"...And as such, the evolution of birds represents a drastic change in the development of dinosaurs. Archeopteryx is that bridging point, arguably the first true bird and most likely the ancestor to all avians that survive today. Looking at this fossil, you can easily recognize features of both....âEU Mr. Stiles continued, and Robin looked to the window for a distraction. A healthy apple tree outside always gave him a sense of peacefulness and it's browning and yellow leaves made for a tranquil fall scene. Black wings fluttered and a large raven landed on the closest branch, peeking into the classroom. Robin made a sour face, cursing under his breath.

The raven tilted his head, then tapped at the glass with his beak. Robin gaped, and felt the small hairs on the back of his neck rising, a nervousness welling up from inside him. Liam nudged him with a soft fist. "Looks like you can't get a break bro, your ex girlfriend is outside.âEU He whispered with a smirk.

"Asshole.âEU Robin silently mouthed in return, and the avian outside tapped at the glass a few more times.

"It seems we have a guest speaker today representing our favorite feathered, bipedal vertebrates. Perhaps he can shed some light on adaptations that allowed them to outlive their prehistoric ancestors.âEU Mr. Stiles stated, getting a few polite laughs from the class. They were much more entertained by the strange bird outside, a couple people getting out their phones to take pictures. "Please, return to your seats, we've all seen birds before.âEU Mr. Stiles asked dejectedly.

Undeterred, the raven continued poking at the window with its beak, and Robin could tell it was staring right at him. He felt himself breaking into a cold sweat and quickly stood up, backing up from the window. "You good bro?âEU Liam asked, concern written across his face. Robin couldn't break eye contact with the raven, feeling a knot forming in his stomach.

"I... no, I'm gonna be sick.âEU Robin stated before coughing violently. He tried to compose himself and darted quickly out of the classroom to a chorus of laughs and a few bewildered looks. He stumbled down the hallway, intermittently coughing. He felt hot, his skin itched all over, and all he could picture was feathers tickling him. He ran into the closest bathroom, not caring it was the girls. A couple hipsters smoking snickered and made snide comments as he leaned over the sink, unable to catch his breath. He was past caring about anything else, he just wanted to throw up and get it over with. He coughed and choked and the girls cringed and shuffled out behind him.

Thanks to Coop for organizing and all the judges and participates involved! Was nice to try my hand at creative writing again, maybe I'll have to stop in on the writing forums a bit more often.

-Part 4

Dash responded with a grin. "Because each picture you take with it is a bit of a mystery, you're not quite sure how it'll come out. Maybe it's just nostalgia from taking pictures as a kid, as I'm sure you fondly remember as well, but most of all I guess I like it because it's phasing out, dying technology. I didn't want it to be forgotten forever."

-Part 3
Jeff followed, asking where they were as they approached a young man with fairly long, brown hair nearing his shoulders, serene as the world around him as he painted. The lean figure kicked the painters chair out from under him, followed by a shin kick to the strangers face.

"Dash, what the hell are you trying to prove here!?" Jeff interjected as he tried to position himself with arms out between Dash and the stranger who was now laying in the grass, presumably cursing furiously in something that sounded to Jeff like German. Dash deftly grabbed his larger twin's wrist and used his other hand to pressure the elbow joint, trapping him in an arm bar, then swiftly kicked his legs from under him before he could react.

"Just watch" Dash calmly stated, dragging the painter a few steps away before pummeling him with a flurry of fast strikes. Jeff hurriedly got to his feet, his face grim as he witnessed this stranger trying in vain to protest and cover his face, curling up in a fetal position. "Dash, you're going to murder this man if you don't stop!" He yelled as stepped towards the scene, grabbing the assailant's soaked shirt to pull him away. Dash responded almost instantly, his shoulder circling around to trap Jeff's hand, and his fingers darted out toward his neck, pressuring his airway with a tight squeeze. Jeff struggled to breathe as sinewy fingers gripped the soft tissues of his neck, eyes wide with shock at the turn of events.

"I don't want to hurt you, brother. You don't even know who this is." Dash stated, trying to sound as level as possible as he released his grip, Jeff immediately rubbing his throat. The stranger was sobbing, and visibly bruised and bloodied on his face. Dash knelt down, using his victim's shirt to wipe away the blood and tears from his face, his other hand batting away his feeble attempts at resisting. He reached into his brown satchel and revealed a black sharpie, scribbling on the man's face as he whimpered helplessly. He pulled the artist's hair back into a tight pony tail as he flinched, and Dash forced the man's face to Jeff. The weary and frightened face had a small, dark mustache drawn in just under his nose and Jeff finally recognized the battered and wide eyed man before him as the creature responsible for the death of millions in the most cruel and unimaginable ways possible.

Jeff met Dash's eyes, full of vengeance. He watched silently as Dash placed his hands on his prey's face, whimpering and crying out until life escaped his writhing body. Dash and Jeff were now alone, silent as if they were the last humans on earth. Dash finally stood, his hands bloodied. "This isn't the first time I've killed him. Must have been at least a dozen times. Doesn't matter if it's before, or after he becomes the monster." He said in nearly a whisper, his voice heavy with emotion. Tears streaked down Dash's tired face. "Even if we never shift again, we'll live our lives in this world we've created, and then what? Life goes on like we never existed, all our achievements, our heartbreak, our successes and tragedies... it's only real to you and I."

Jeff was at a loss for words. He cast his gaze away, squeezing his fist until it hurt. He finally started to speak. "Look Dash, even if you could change things. You can't change the world. You can't change the hearts of people. There will always be cruel individuals, and the apathetic majority who allow cruelty to happen..."

"You think I don't fucking know that!?" Dash quickly snapped, his face becoming flushed again. "You watched me kill Hitler with my bare hands! I've participated in the genocide of Native Americans during the colonization of America! I've hunted along side our ancestors who slaughtered our hominid rivals to the point of extinction! Hell, once I even killed another of one of us the strangest case of murder-suicide I can imagine! I've seen the darkest depths of man, and there's no making it right again..." Dash's voice trailed off and he let out a resigned sigh.

Jeff stood before him with determined resolve. "Maybe not, maybe we can't change the world or the hearts of mankind, but who knows, maybe we're the only ones who experience the world as it should be, and everyone else is living in a false history." He moved closer to Dash, placing his arm on his shoulder comfortingly as he spoke. "We don't have the answers, and chances are we never will. But we sure as hell can make the best of it, right? I know you're tired of being alone, and in a sense, I suppose you still are. How about we go somewhere and just live it up the best we can? Just stay awhile make the best of it. If we don't like it, we can always shift again, right?" Jeff suggested, his voice calm and hopeful.

Jeff cracked a grin for the first time in an eternity. "Well, I guess we haven't got anything to lose by it... we've got all the time in the world."

One shift and several months later the time traveling twins found themselves in a musical quartet playing deafeningly loud pop music to a crowd of enthusiastic fans in a claustrophobic little club tucked away in Liverpool. Girls screamed and swarmed toward the stage as they belted out upbeat and catchy tune after tune. After a synchronized bow and echoing applause, the band made their way back stage. The lead guitarist, a clean shaved youth with fashionably long hair confided to the others as they walked together, "I have admit, you gents from the states can sure carry a tune. Bit unfortunate those cats John and Paul couldn't make it, they're really missing the best of it."

The drummer, another stylishly rebellious English youth replied "I wouldn't worry too much about them, George. Heard they made it big, something about splitting up a treasure, some ancient artifacts. They'll be living the high life while we're on the road. Maybe we'll hear from 'em, they'll hand us a bone sometime once all these girls move on to something new." Dash was grinning like an idiot and Jeff gave him a playful nudge of the elbow.

"You all go ahead, we'll catch up. Need to talk to my cousin here about the family back home." Jeff announced, hanging back a bit.

"Right, right, take your time gents, send them thanks for letting us borrow your talents. Not everyday you find good songwriters out of no where." The drummer said with a wave and walked ahead, chatting with the guitarist about the next show.

Jeff took a quick peek over his shoulder, and whispered to Dash in a hushed voice, "Beatles have to be one of my all time favorites, but damned if I'm not tired of all this boy band stuff! I'm ready for the psychedelic rock, ya know, the good stuff!"

"Patience man, patience. If we want to make this work, we've got to ride it out carefully. It's already been one hell of a ride, yeah?" Dash replied, smirking as always.

Jeff clasped his hands behind his head. "Beats the hell out of flipping burgers. You still have that photo album, right?" he asked casually.

Dash's eyes lit up with recognition. "Yeah, yeah, right here in my satchel. You know I should add more photos while we're here, I forgot about it after you tagged along, honestly." He pulled out a dated Polaroid camera and took a picture of the two of them grinning backstage, the camera nosily dispensing a blank photo. Dash began shaking the photo to speed it's development. "What made you think of that?" he asked with a cocked eyebrow.

"Actually, I was just wondering why you used that type of camera." Jeff responded nonchalantly. "Obviously you could use a digital one, even now if you brought a small printer with you, much better picture quality and such for sure." He watched intently as the blank photo transformed into color and image.

-Part 2
"So how did you discover... your ability?" Jeff asked cautiously, looking up at his sinewy copy who was leaning back against a tree with his hands clasped behind his head.

"You taught me. Well, not you specifically, but an older you. The man you would have eventually become had I not whisked you away from your otherwise mundane life. The master was the same man as you and I... just older." The speaker slowly stepped forward from his lax stance, his voice growing as he continued his tale. "At fifty one years old, Jeffery Viken quite accidentally touched reality itself and traveled through time. There was a catch though... every time he shifted to another time, time itself reset." His twin couldn't hide the smirk on his face as he stood before Jeff, lecturing and gesturing as though to a grand audience. "Any time we move through time, everything goes back to the way it was, as though we'd never done so. For instance, I could go back in time and kill our parents before our birth... then shift back to now, and you'd still be flipping burgers in that ridiculous outfit. Likewise, even after taking you with me, we could go back, and find you there, grilling away miserably with that bandaged hand of yours." Jeff reflexively touched his recent laceration, reminding him of the events a few minutes and two millennia away.

"The other catch seems to be that you can't go into the future... not any farther then you've aged had you never jumped at all. As you can imagine, the older Jeffery felt quite alienated, unable to prove or even effectively change the world around him despite his new found talent... furthermore, none of his children were able to utilize it. He spent several years testing and trying, in vain, to change history to no avail. Eventually he decided he was tired of being alone, and took advantage of his gift to shift to his youth and teach younger versions of himself these skills... I was the youngest of the three of us. I suppose he went to different times and ages so he'd be able to feel like he had some sort of a family with us, he treated us like his children."

"So where is he now? And your... our siblings?" Jeff interjected, mesmerized and intrigued by the tale.

"Not sure, honestly. A few years back, I shifted away, alone. I've been alone ever since. Oh, my name is Dash, by the way... would get rather annoying if we were both Jeff, yeah? Maybe someday you'll choose your own name then, until then I suppose you're Jeff." Dash smirked and Jeff cracked a grin. "Well, now that introductions and such are out of the way, and you know the basic rules, where do you want to go? And remember, no matter how hard you try, your actions will have no results, no consequences with the future. Think of human history as a playground with no rules!"

The next several weeks floated by like something of a dream for Jeff. Everyday was a new life, sometimes several. Dash took him through light tours of sight seeing historical places and people at the times of their designated importance by the footnotes of written history. It wouldn't be uncommon for Dash to bump elbows with said figures during their travels, making his best attempts to fit in with current trends and accents while Jeff often acted reserved and played the part of brother or cousin , trying his best to stay out of the spotlight. Fearlessly he'd start a conversation with a young George Washington about the life and hardships of the American colonies or get into a bar room brawl with Hemingway. Whenever life threatening danger potentially lurked, the duo would sprint to one another and jump to sometime new. Dash had a fondness for spending their evenings at Taverns during medieval periods and paying their way through song and entertainment. Often he'd start his show with a locally popular ballad of the time period, then mischievously following up with some strange parody of a modern song, such as a rendition of a Beatles song using a harp while feigning a relatively authentic accent. Jeff found it especially amusing hearing Dash singing I am the Walrus in an Irish tavern with matching accent, to the often shocked and drunkenly entertained audience.

Jeff found himself seated at a high overlook in southern Italy on an especially dark and cloudy day, over two hundred years before the birth of Christ, watching the battle of Cannae from a safe vantage point. Dash was gesturing quite dramatically as he ranted in detail of the specifics of the war before them, of trivia completely unknown to any living human from their own era when Jeff had a sudden feeling of homesickness. His stomach lurched at the realization that his life living everywhere at anytime meant he truly had no home, no family to recognize him, short of this strange mirror of himself.

"Have you ever considered stopping?" Jeff asked him. Dash stopped mid sentence and looked to his time traveling partner.

He cracked a grin in response. "Not a fan of Hannibal, eh?"

"I didn't mean talking about the battle." Jeff stated seriously, looking to his double for truth. All humor left Dash's face and their blue eyes met. For the first time, his features looked to Jeff more like a man twice their age rather then a reflection of himself.

"Yeah, I know what you meant. Settling down somewhere, living a normal life. Like it fucking matters!" Something flickered in his eyes as his fist tensed, his forearm lined with tension and definition. "We're not even here, history won't know, no matter how we choose to spend our days! Why play by the rules when we aren't in the game anymore!?"

Jeff stood and faced his leaner reflection. "It's not about rules, or a game, or any of that bullshit. Hell, how many of the men laying down their lives down there still exist in history? Sure, they were in a battle thats hardly even a cliff note in the history books. There's a handful of so called historians who think they know how it went down. Hell, more people in our time know Hannibal the fictional fucking face eater then your hero down there. And you know what? Soon enough, it'll all disappear from our culture, forgotten and certainly not missed. That's just life."

Dash scowled deeply as the distant rumble of thunder promised foul weather to come. "You think it's that simple!? Ohhh, we're going to die and be forgotten like everyone else! At least the bastards down there are a cliff note! They've got families, they have progeny to continue their filthy bloodlines and create the problems of the future! We can never have that, you can bed a woman every day and night from now until two thousand years later and you'd still have no children to call you're own, none of it matters!" Dash shouted, his voice growing gravely and hoarse with anger. Rain poured down, soaking the both of them as they argued. "We can't be like them. We can't even be ourselves anymore, and even if we could, what does it matter? Once the master had discovered how to shift, he erased himself from history, and passed the curse to me, and I in turn, to you." His face was momentarily illuminated by lightning, followed by the deep rumble of thunder.

Jeff gave him a hard stare, feeling his own emotions heating. "Coward's words if you ask me. There's no reason why you can't choose to live your life like anyone else. Hell, you fit right in everywhere you go, you've got more options then we would have ever had. Just stop shifting, time will stop reseting. It's as simple as that!" he stated, his words firm, trying to stay level headed. Dash's lip twisted into a sneer.

"That really what you think!? Tell me what you think of this!" Dash speedily grabbed Jeff's forearm and forced them both into the depths of space and existence itself. When returning to reality they were in a lightly forested area, with a hints of relatively modern structures and buildings in the distance. Dash released his arm and marched off with grim intent clearly written all over his posture.

The Shift -Part 1
"Will you hurry the fuck up! Burgers don't cook themselves and you've got a line to hell and back in drive through!" a nasally voice shouted from the front end. Useless idiot, Jeff silently mouthed in response as he hurriedly slammed the microwave shut and flicked the timer, proceeding to snatch buns and condiments and shaping them into something allegedly edible. With a 180 spin he lowered fries and onion rings into a sizzling deep fryer and after a quick glance at incoming orders returned to crafting sandwiches. Damn, need more tomatoes, he realized, immediately grabbing a nearby tomato and knife. His hands deftly sawed and sliced, making neat circles until a streak of crimson jetted out from his hand, greeted with a burst of vulgarity.

"Tell Becky to finish this crap, I'm busted open! I've been on my own here for 5 hours, someone else can take over for a bit!" Jeff announced as he rinsed and wrapped his finger, met with a nasally groan and spouts of disagreement from the manager. Jeff threw off his red visor and let his mess of dirty blond hair hang freely over his wary face as he walked out the back door. His stocky and muscled frame climbed slowly up a ladder to the roof, where he knelt down and sat seiza style, and closed his eyes.

As always with his ritual of meditation he cleared his mind and imagined his Qi flowing freely throughout his body, then gathering just below his navel, swirling about in a whirlpool of warm energy before dispersing through every capillary and cell of his body. In those moments he almost felt as if he could feel the universe, like he could reach out and touch existence itself. He let himself completely relax and forget about the stresses and annoyances of life, now existing somewhere else entirely.

"Hell of a place to meditate, don't you think?" Interrupted a voice alien and yet undeniably familiar to Jeff. He opened his eyes to see a stranger standing confidently before him who bore a remarkable likeness to himself. His figure was lithe and slim, muscled like a dancer or gymnast in stark contrast to his own linebacker like physique. The youth was trendily dressed with designer jeans and a large brown satchel at his side. His blond hair was cut short with a well trimmed goatee framing his fixed smirk. Otherwise, their facial features matched perfectly he realized, slowly raising to look into blue eyes identical his own. "Good news Jeff, you've got a long lost identical twin! Amazing, isn't it?" the stranger declared with a wide grin.

Jeff narrowed his eyes suspiciously, instinctively tightening his fist at the unexpected scene before him. "How did you find me and what do you want?" he demanded, his voice slow and careful, feeling a knot of discomfort growing in his gut.

The stranger let out a dramatic sigh and clasped his hands behind his head, still unable to hide his smirking. "Fine, if your so worried about details, I'll stop enhancing the truth. The reality is, I'm you. Born at the same time, same parents, same genetic code... you and I, my friend, are closer then any pair of identical twins have ever been. And I'm a time traveler. And soon, you will be too."

It was Jeff's turn to grin. "Now you're really..."

"Full of shit, I know, just look at this" he finished as he tossed a small book towards Jeff's feet. He gingerly picked up the small, maroon photo album and opened the front page, revealing a Polaroid of Bruce Lee with a group of students, a younger version of himself included. The following pages had Polaroid photos of various time periods before instant cameras with himself as the star, ranging as widely from confederate uniform to the elaborate suits of French nobility. One particularly amusing photo had himself in normal clothes giving the devil horns hand hand sign along side a caveman making an attempt at a smile and making the same gesture with some difficulty.

Jeff looked to his doppelganger with reluctance. "This is your proof? All that shows is you've got a decent bit of experience with Photoshop and way too much time on your hands."

"Alright, name one famous person from anytime, anywhere that you'd want to meet, and I'll take you, hows that sound?" the leaner Jeff offered, his expression earnest.

Jeff smiled mischievously. "Jesus Christ."

"Seriously? Fuck's sake, THAT is who you want to meet!?" The time traveler closed his eyes and brought his palm to his forehead. "I think you'll be a bit disappointed, but it's your call. Sit. Close your eyes. Do it!" Jeff looked to him with puzzlement, but reluctantly knelt. "This is going to feel a bit different at first, just think of it like meditation. Whatever you do, don't let go."

Figuring he had nothing to lose, Jeff attempted in vain to clear his mind despite his inner voice screaming bullshit. He relaxed and let his body grow still as he felt hands placed lightly on his shoulders. He felt a new, warm sensation, as though he was shifting through reality, like he were nothing more than an electron cloud in a giant sea of existence. Jeff no longer felt conscious but instead something like a vague sense of drifting. A sensation of being carried held him back from the desire to branch out and be absorbed into a sea of particles. He felt his consciousness return to reality and stood up quickly, breathing heavily with shock. He found himself in a grassy area near a dirt road, his recently acquainted double standing by with a smug smile. "Still think I'm full of shit?"

Jeff stood jaw agape as he marveled at his surroundings. His double nudged his side, arm extended with a brown blanket of sorts. He already had one wrapped around himself, hiding his clothing and such underneath and keeping his hair cloaked under it, casting a shadow over his fair features. Shocked by the surreal nature of his situation, Jeff composed himself and silently obeyed, wrapping his own linen sheet around with some help of his companion. "Follow, and don't say anything too loud, we don't want to attract attention" his companion warned in a hushed voice, Jeff responding with a nod. They traveled down a worn down pebble road in silence, occasionally passing by strangers with dark, sullen cast faces. Jeff tried his hardest not to make eye contact, his hands practically trembling at this point. This shit has to be a dream, there's just no way, Jeff thought to himself, giving his inner cheek a hard bite to test his theory. Still here, still hurts.

"Eyes up, chief. There's your savior on his soapbox" Jeff's twin had whispered in a hushed voice as they approached a small group huddled around a speaker. A man with long, dark hair and a matching complexion was speaking in a language phonetically alien to Jeff. It was obvious the speaker was passionate through his gestures, some of his crowd most interested, many indifferent and slowly trudging off to go about their business, and an older man with a thick gray beard appearing especially shocked. Other than being the center of attention, the speaker hardly looked significantly different from anyone else, clad in rough linens and a sash that looked as though it had seen better days. Jeff squinted a bit, still digesting the surreal nature of the situation.

"Hmm... I didn't think he'd look..." Jeff whispered, finding himself at a loss for words.

"Like someone on the FBI's no-fly list?" Dash interjected as met his eyes with a cocked eyebrow and wide grin. "Yeah, it's a bit hard to have any sort of meaningful communication with him, considering the language and culture barrier. Come, let's get away from the crowd before someone notices us." They trailed off casually to a near by lake, for the most part empty other than some fisherman long out of earshot. Jeff slowly relaxed, letting his hair go free and sat next to his double, the reality of time travel slowly feeling as tangible as the earth he sat on.