Caffeine and Magix

writing-prompt-s:

The narrator really really hates the protagonist but everyone else believes in him

I fucking hate Carl. I’m not going to apologize for it either, because apologizing is bullshit just like every single thing that comes out of Carl’s mouth.

Take now, for example.

“I think,” Carl says, chest plate gleaming, “that everyone deserves a second chance.” He looks heroically into the middle distance, jaw tight with some unknown emotion.

Bull. Shit.

“She just tried to murder Cheryl,” I say. I point to the sorceress on the ground, finger trembling with rage. “Just now. Five seconds ago.”

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” Carl announces, looking at me disapprovingly. He turns his gaze on the sorceress. “You haven’t had many options in your life, I can see that. How would you like to join us on our quest?”

“You’re shitting me,” I say. I turn to look at Cheryl who is holding a wad of aloe leaves to the magic burns on her face. “Cheryl. Please talk some sense into Carl. We are not giving this bitch a second chance.”

Cheryl hesitates, looking between me, the sorceress and Carl. “I mean, I think Carl’s right, you know? She hasn’t had a lot of chances in life.” She scuffs a foot on the ground. “It’d be nice to have another girl around.”

My jaw drops. “She tried to burn your skin off!”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it,” Cheryl says. She turns doe eyes on Carl. “Right?”

“Right,” Carl says, nodding authoritatively. “What say you, sorceress?”

“I’m misunderstood,” the sorceress says, holding up her hands the best she can while propping herself up on her elbows. “I will forever be in debt to you for showing me that there’s another way.”

Carl puffs out his chest. “See?”

“She’s clearly lying,” I say. “Look, she’s already armed!”

The sorceress quickly folds her dagger back into her skirt. “No I’m not.”

“She’s not,” Carl tells me, rolling his eyes. He holds out a hand to the sorceress. “Come along, new comrade! To adventure!”

I watch him help our enemy up, seemingly ignorant of the dagger she shifts from her hand to the waistband of her skirt. 

Fucking Carl, man.