I'm trying to get a bit more confident in my work. Organized and unorganized snippets of stories and drawings.
118 posts
Writing share tag
Thanks for the Tag @wyked-ao3 ! I haven't gotten to the stage of editing yet, but here's a little something that I was able to get written a couple of weeks ago.
Blood Mage: council meeting
No one enjoyed these meetings, but unless the fairies or vampires picked a fight with Luis there was usually no cause for concern. At a subtle gesture towards Marie’s seat, Susian’s face went pale. The witches were fairly peaceful these days, why would they go and pick a fight with Luis of all people?
As Susan decided the best way to word such a question to the already dozing representative, she was interrupted by a loud boom accompanied by an explosion of plaster and metal crashing down from the ceiling above.
“What is the meaning of this?”
A cry came from the indigent Fairy King now covered in a layer of dust and red crystal fragments, his ever-faithful guard having taken the brunt of the explosion’s force shielding him.
“Shut up bug. I have no time to prattle with insects.”
Susan and the others froze at the vitriol in Luis’ tone, sure he never got along with the king, but that voice wasn’t one that he used on anyone unless he had a mind to end them. The eyes of everyone drifted to the enraged bloodmage now standing several feet from the table, carefully trying to gauge how to react. Red lines covered his skin, pulsing with an unnatural glow, threatening to split him at the seams if he let himself slip even minutely. Her mouth went dry as Susian realized he had entered a frenzied state, and even the Fairy King made no move to speak now.
“I came to inform the council of my formal intent to eradicate the Witches.”
His words felt like a hot iron being slammed into Susan’s gut. Her predecessors and colleagues had long wondered what to do if such an eventuality came to be, but to hear it now drove her mind to despair. What had they done to offend him to this degree? Why in their right minds would the witches have picked such a foolish fight? Now everyone would be dragged into this insanity, and more than anything that meant she wouldn’t be getting her time off again, no one in the Order would.
No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,
@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag
@wyked-ao3
Thanks for the Tag! I haven’t gotten much writing done recently because of life but this was a little section from something my brain decided it felt like writing.
The guardian stared at him with eyes that glowed like distant galaxies.
-Sleep young warrior, sleep and let this poison pass from you-
The voice echoed through his mind and he felt at least somewhat relieved that he hadn’t broken down for no reason.
No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,
@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag
UNSEEN
@flashfictionfridayofficial , I'm glad you enjoy the drawings! Thank you so much for the prompts every week!
This one is a bit over 400, so on the shorter side for me, but I was pretty busy today and am writing this as half of my brain falls asleep so sorry if some things seem a bit weird.
Warning:Mentions of injuries and coercion
Neither of them spoke as Rose continued to clean the glass in his hand like nothing was wrong. How many times had his cloth polished this surface? Did it matter?
The silent man in front of him kept his eyes fixed on the area just above Rose’s left shoulder which had now become nearly numb with a strange pulsing pain that threatened to steal control of his arm at any moment. A chill swept through the silent inn dinning room as the coins that had been offered remained on the table untouched by either party since the stalemate had begun.
If it hadn’t been for the sound of Rain beating down against the rafters in heavy torrents you could have heard a pin drop. Whatever monstrosity had managed to blow in with the wind. He couldn’t see the creature, he should have been able to, given how loudly it was breathing right next to his ear. He’d taken several side glances though and never once had he been able to catch even a shadow of the nightmare tormenting him.
“I didn’t mean anything by it…”
The man before him finally lowered his head in frustration, the scar around his throat being obstructed for the first time since he’d entered the inn tonight. A pang of some unknown regret passed through Rose as he tried to say something encouraging but quickly stopped himself as a stab of icy pain shot through his shoulder making him flinch.
{You can’t keep things from me puppet}
The voice reverberated through the air, freezing his blood. The thing had spoken in a twisted voice that seemed to be clawing through unwilling lips, dripping with desire. He’d been lusted after by many strange and terrible people, but never had he felt more disgusted as by this voice. It made no attempt to hide its purpose, but even from the brief words Rose could tell that for once he wasn’t the object of interest.
He looked at the familiar stranger with pity as he watched him struggle with something before finally regaining a hold on himself. In no less than a moment, the doomed man before him suddenly straitened with something resembling resolve before resolutely turning and leaving through the door without another word or mention of his purchased drink. As the man walked away, Rose felt the dark presence leave him, and he collapsed to the ground, panting.
What's your favorite part of the lore in your wip?
Oh, another tough one. Thanks for asking!
Not to give too much away since it's getting into a pretty important plot details. My favorite lore has to do with a chasm called the Gate of the Underworld or just the Underworld for short.
Legend says that the hand of an angry god opened the way to the underworld so as to punish humans for their hubris. Man decided to explore in their drive for advancement and, after traveling miles down, found large red crystals.
After experimenting with the strange and highly explosive substance, they found that it could be used to enhance people, and after several failed attempts, the first group of blood mages were formed.
At first, it was believed they could be controlled, but as the monsters began losing their minds, humanity began to question if the stories regarding the Underworld were really just stories after all.
(A very quick visual)
will Alasdair ever get a spin off or his own story?
Thanks for the ask!
Alasdair falls into a category of characters that I really like, so probably... Eventually. I'll have to flesh out the world around him a bit more to get a better read on his environment and try to break past my procrastination to get at him first, though.
(Bonus since this probably won't come up anywhere else: Alasdair can no longer knit to pass the time while watching over the King's sleep)
Thanks for the tag @renasdoodles !
What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?
I really don’t know honestly, there have been so many that I’ve been scared to touch for years at this point. I couldn't pin down a favorite though, my top favorites are all there for different reasons.
Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?
‘Are you a cat person or a dog person?’ This one always gets me conflicted because by all accounts I would say a cat person because I am far closer with them, but I also really like dogs. It’s a bit of a stupid question to keep thinking on, but it keeps popping back in my head at the most random times.
What is your favorite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?
I love being able to write the stories that I want to read, sometimes I go back to a draft that I abandoned months ago and re-read it to find that I'm really interested in what happens next, and that's a really fun experience.
What I don’t particularly enjoy is probably when I leave notes for myself to fill stuff in later and it really isn’t enough information to know what in the world I was intending to write.
What is your greatest motivation to Write/create?
When It comes down to it I really want to be able to reach a point where I can write the stories from my mind in a way that does them justice. I also want to be able to draw the things that are rattling around in my head.
What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever heard or been given as a writer?
First drafts aren’t meant to be perfect, you are just getting the ideas down on the page and setting the ground work for your story to start solidifying your next steps. I particularly struggle with this one since I want to have everything perfectly in place but for my writing style that just isn’t realistic.
What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?
Don’t be scared to ruin your stories, just write them. If you get to scared to even try working on something it will die in your mind forever unspoken and for me that is worse than failing because I gain almost nothing from the wasted creativity.
What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!
Honestly, I’ve disappointingly only been able to finish a couple of fan fictions since I developed a really bad habit of abandoning story ideas out of fear for the results. I’m trying to get myself back on track but it’s just a bit of a task to keep myself in line. ;-; Sometimes I wonder if the writer part of my brain got switched with that of a hyperactive child. Of the Fan Fictions I've managed to post on Ao3 'A Bit of Clean Water' Fandom: Vampyr (Video Game) is short little story that I'm pretty happy with.
Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you particularly feel about their ideals?
I won't mention the character but their mindset is that people are inherently weak short minded creatures that are incapable of governing themselves. No matter how great a thing they might make it can be devastated in the span of a generation because their will could not be inherited by their successor. The character believes that because of this people are inferior and do not deserve to stand at the top of the food chain.
I personally understand some of where he's coming from because it is pretty scary how easily something great can be destroyed by a bad successor no matter how great the founder might have been, but I feel like this character is a bit to critical of the race and extreme with his execution.
If you when you first started writing met you now, what would younger you think?
Probably be a bit horrified at first, but the first story I wrote before I was ten ended with the main character dying in a car crash after someone cut her breaks for a petty reason, so I like to think that my younger self would at least somewhat understand where i'm coming from with my writing. As for my personality... That would probably be a much harder sell. (Younger me could barely play mobile games that had any community features, knowing that I put my writing out for people to see might give younger me a heart attack)
No pressure Tagging:
@kuebiko-writing @wyked-ao3 @creatrackers @davycoquette,
@somethingclevermahogony @laisley-writes @flurrysahin @zaynabameen,
+Open Tag
Character Profile Tag: Billy
Thanks for the tag @creatrackers I had a lot of fun with this one. Sorry I'm so late getting it finished.
Full name: Billy, Shepard of the Blue Moon
Age: 4045 yrs
Gender: male
Species: Forest Guardian
Appearance: Standing at around 5'10 when fully upright, Billy is a mass of foliage and wood in the shape of a man, he appears to have a large beard made of ferns and wears a bone mask over the top of his face showing a pair of deep purple eyes.
Occupation: (Formerly) Shepard of the Blue Moon Valley. (Current) An initially reluctant member of a certain rogue squad of misfits.
Family: Forest guardian's are formed when a prior guardian is about to die or reaches their 4th millennia. In the first and much rarer case, when a forest guardian is about to die through unnatural means, they can split their core and send it into the ground for a 100 years to preserve the natural power. After the time elapses another forest guardian is formed from the core which has by this point re-fused. In Billy's case his predecessors' core did not fuze back and formed two separate Forest Guardian's. So he has one sibling named Jade, but they had their own paths and did not meet often after reaching adulthood. As for found family he has been adopted into the main squad by MA who isn't one to take no for an answer when it comes to strays.
Best friend: He gets along with most of the main squad fairly well (baring Ember), but he has a stronger connection to Hati since the mechanic was instrumental in making his more effective means of re-vitalizing nature. In turn he helps to keep Hati's unstable inventions from falling apart.
Pets: He has no pets and he prefers the company of plants.
Describe their room: (Former) A thick forest with lush foliage and a balanced echo system, it was his pride and joy. (Current) The back of a 6 passenger roofless (Stollen) military vehicle that is one bump away from falling to pieces, the one perk being a flood light that he can use to help get some 'sun' on the smog covered battlefields.
Items in their bag/purse: Assorted seeds and a copy of a half burned political thriller that he picked up somewhere along the road.
Hobbies: horticulture, reading, and hunting down particularly noteworthy offenders to the natural order.
Favorite sport: shooting
Abilities/talents/powers: As a forest guardian he has the ability to accelerate the natural progression and evolution of plants and animals. He is also able to levi an amount of control over natural things even partially extending to the human body unlike most of his species that mainly have this power over plants or animals. He is a skilled marksmen, and amateur engineer thanks to his friendship with Hati.
Relationships: He isn't and has not been in a romantic relationship before. As a Forest Guardian he doesn't particularly have any dive for connection. He does enjoy his friendships with most of the squad more than he had expected he would, but never felt the need to pursue anything further.
Fears: burning alive, watching his forests burn, fire, not being a worthy predecessor, and his squad dying unnaturally.
Faults: He is Stubborn, and doesn't tell people about his problems usually leading to avoidable consequences.
Good points: He is loyal and considerate.
What they want more than anything else: To re-establish the forests that were devastated and to watch over his squad so that they can live full and happy lives (Even Ember).
No pressure tagging:
@renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette ,
@wyked-ao3 @somethingclevermahogony @boomiburst @lyutenw ,
+Open Tag
Questions to copy:
Full name: Age: Gender: Species: Appearance: Occupation: Family: Best friend: Pets: Describe their room: Items in their bag/purse: Hobbies: Favourite sport: Abilities/talents/powers: Relationships: Fears: Faults: Good points: What they want more than anything else:
A Bit Old For This
@flashfictionfridayofficial
Where did this come from? I don't know... I woke up at 6:10 am. and saw the prompt. This story just kinda came knocking on my brain without notice.
Story Warning: breif thoughts of death, violence, abduction, mentions of unstable mental state, and isolation.
Aaron woke up scowling to the sound of his alarm. 4:30 am. flashed brightly on the small LED screen. He’d overslept again.
Not bothering to snooze, Arron slowly sat up in bed and attempted to fight his growing desire to pitch himself over the balcony of his fifth story apartment. Imagining the complications in the event of his failure he discarded the unproductive thoughts turning his attention to the bathroom instead.
Pictures and Phil and Rachel in their uniforms hung on the mirror taunting him with their smiles, a constant reminder of his failure.
Blasted psyche test. Weren't people like him the very kind that the military were looking for?
Aaron's scowl deepened as he tried to push down a rising sense of nausea, he really needed to take down those pictures before he…
A loud boom sounded from the living room and his failures were replaced by a sudden and unshakable dread.
He'd been anxious and angry in equal measure for most of his life, so Aaron was familiar with voids in his gut, but this dread seemed to be emanating from the back of his head telling him to run.
His brain didn't even process the command that had been instinctively issued before his body was moving calmly towards the bathroom window.
Unhooking the latched he ducked out to the fire escape and began to descend the stairs as quietly as possible while his heartbeat began to accelerate with each successive boom.
The wind began to pick up as he heard a low growl from above. He didn’t dare stop, didn't dare to look up and see what might have invaded his home. What would have happened had he hit snooze one more time? It was then that his anxiety caught up with the dread and a pit formed in his already weakened stomach threatening him with a putrid bile that crept into the back of his throat.
Aaron stopped just long enough to force the bile back down into his stomach. Unfortunately It was a moment too long, for even as he took several deep breaths after finally forcing the caustic mixture down his aching throat, he felt icy fingers gently wrapping around the back of his neck.
The back of his mind began to scream as his body froze in place. He wanted to move, needed to continue fleeing but it was as though his body had been frozen by those fingers which dug into the back of his neck.
"Are you sure this one will do?"
Aaron closed his eyes before he could see the person he heard them stepping closer. It was like his brain knew something worse than the eternal sleep he dreamed of would be forced on him if he made eye contact with whatever it was.
"The Professor was very clear in his description, and I can feel radiance even if it’s faint. I am a bit surprised he made it this long without being discovered."
His brow furrowed as Aaron tried to make sense of what was happening. What did they mean radiance? The feeling in the back of his head flared once more with the urgent desire to escape these things, but he was still firmly rooted in place as a bony finger pressed into the side of his face as warm blood pooled under the sharp nail.
The sting of torn skin was enough to convince the last sane shred of his mind that this wasn't another of his insane dreams, he'd always wake up when he was injured and less had drawn him from his wanderings. The icy grip around his throat tightened, and his vision blotched to blackness.
....
"Simon, wake up!"
His eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. He was in a plain white room filled with sleeping figures. From a cursory glance he was probably the oldest by about fifteen years. Among them only about a fourth seemed to be awake, and half of those were staring at the walls in a daze.
He didn’t have much time to linger on his confusion as a familiar boom filled the room and his eyes were drawn to a wolf-like creature that stood towering over one child that was still sleeping. The creature's maw dripped with red as it didn't hesitate to bring its jaws down on the sleeping boy's shoulder before blinking out of existence with another boom, taking the boy with it.
Cries rang out from nearby children as they began to scramble away from any of the sleeping kids as more booms filled the room in rapid succession, always a sleeping child, and always there for less than a moment more than necessary. The teen near him continued to shake her unconscious friend while calling out his name as another boom sounded and knocked her away from the defenseless teen.
Aaron wasn't sure if it was that strange new part of his brain , or the well of frustration the had been brewing in his gut which caused him to leap at the wolf, but in the end the result was the same. Without an ounce of hesitation he pounced on the focused beast like a coiled spring which had finally been released.
Its body was lighter than the wolves he'd dealt with in the past, and as he pinned its throat to the ground with his knee, he reached to his belt finding his knife had been left unchecked.
His fingers gingerly gripped around the handle pulling it free as the creature seemed to catch up with its current situation and attempted to claw at him while snarling.
He was struck by the pathetically weak nature of this thing as his blade was buried in the creature's throat, tearing it cleanly with more ease than should have been possible. As the blade broke free of the creature it burst into a cloud of thick purple smoke and rapidly funneled into his mouth and nose suffocating him for a brief moment.
When the swirl was gone he looked down at his hands with patchy vision and tried to focus on the strange fog that he could now feel slowly making its way through his lungs.
"Congratulations!"
A little old man appeared not far away smiling from ear to ear.
"The first dream wolf has been absorbed so all survivors are now eligible dream Arbiter candidates!"
Little bursts of confetti sprayed over the room as the children and Aaron looked at the man in confusion.
It was at this point that the sleeping victims all started to wake up and look around them in confusion before happily reuniting with their peers and crying tears of what he assumed were relief.
For his part, all Aaron could manage to do was put away his suddenly clean knife, hoping the old man would suddenly decide it wasn't something that an abducted adult should be allowed to have.
Who is your favorite side character in your wip Bloodmage? What's one thing that character hates?
Thanks for the question!
That's a tough one. I have mainly focused on developing my main cast. Of the side characters that I have done more work on, though, one comes to mind more than the others.
Alasdair the King's right hand.
He's a half elf who was chosen as the king of the Fairies Bodyguard. He is a skilled fighter and considered the most dangerous of all fairies in combat despite his heritage. Due to his mixed blood, he is far bulkier than traditional elves, giving him an edge in pure strength.
There is a council of criptids that govern their groups and hold annual meetings to coordinate grievances and trade deals. During a heated argument, the king of the fairies picked a fight with the Representative for the blood mages Luis. During the insuing fight, Luis ripped Aladair's wings off and destroyed his left arm.
Even with this handicap he is still considered the most fit to be the bodyguard of the King, a fact that Luis uses to taunt the proud race when he gets irritated by them during the meetings.
Aladair dislikes Luis for the shame that he brought on the fairies, but he respects the bloodmage's strength. He hates himself for failing to protect his king's honor and is actively training other warriors to take his place.
A cruel punishment to set an example.
The dead companion had laid at its master's feet as loyal as it had been in life. No power had been enough to stop that. Desperation and isolation drove the master to make this creature from the body of a dead companion.
Night Hounds appear as tall, emaciated hounds that appear normal up until the joint between the neck and head where the head has been severed. Two tubes connect a skinless substitute head to the body. Hard to kill and exilent guard dogs, the hounds are also extremely loyal, and once choosing a master will stay with them until death.
If the bond is close enough, then the soul of their chosen master can animate and linger with them as they pass into the afterlife.
@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt
I wasn't planning on putting this guys perspective up yet, but it seemed to fit for the prompt, so I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Discriptions of medical procedures, violence, blood, burning skin, laceration, and dismemberment.
@wyked-ao3 (a bit more on the villain of my story. He now has a proper name! Albrecht)
Glossary:
(In case you are curious about any of the terms in the medical procedure)
Topical Benzocaine: a gel spread on skin to numb before injections.
Articaine: a type of numbing agent injected locally in tissue to numb an area.
Epinephrine: used in local anesthesia to increase the duration of numbness by constricting blood vessels in the area and preventing the local anesthesia from being absorbed by the blood stream as quickly.
Buccal: the gum tissue covering the outer side of teeth.
Palatal: tissue over the top of the mouth on the inner side of the teeth.
Maxila: upper jaw
Nerve block: an injection that targets higher on a nerve branch to numb more tissue at once.
Infiltrations: injections that target a specific area and numbs the nerves directly adjacent to the injection by targeting the approximate location.
Now, back to the story.
Topical benzocaine followed a minute after by 2 carpules of Articaine HCI 4% 1:100,000 epi. Infiltrations for the buccal and a nerve block for the palatal side of the right maxila. Within minutes he’d watched as the surgeon took out a scalpel and carefully cut gum tissue down to the bone and gently peeled it back as the patient lay, mouth open, not even flinching. Then the drill had come, and with a whir of mechanical power, the bone was carefully bored down to expose the gaping sinus.
Of all the things that Albrecht had been forced to observe in his mandatory job placement hours, this was the one that really stood out to him. It was fascinating what a little chemical compound could do to dull the senses. He’d even been able to hold a mundane conversation with the man about his line of work while the surgeon scurried off to attend some other matters.
Another wave of explosions rocked by him. Albrecht’s head screamed in pain as that long forgotten memory snapped back into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. With both armies cowering in the darkness, he should have been on the cusp of his victory, the whole world bathed in beautiful darkness by his machines. Yet here he stood, recalling the memories of a child, a fool who didn’t understand the meaning of his own destiny.
Looking about him in confusion Albrecht’s teeth gnashed at the husks of his elite soldiers, boiled in their own skin at the shine of an artificial sun. Ever calculating, he could already see that what remained of his force wouldn’t last long after such a devastating attack. Ten blasted years of preparation… all for something like this? The fangs under his mask ached as he fought for control of his raging mind. His careful planning should have seen him to the end, in the way that it always had.
The power coursing through his veins spiked as the pieces of his strength once gifted to his thralls all began to converge back into him in a wave of sickening pressure. The feeling blinded him, and for the first time in his long life, Major Albrecht lost his ever firm grip on reason. Head snapping towards the source of his misfortune, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists.
Using his powers, the Major smoothly dropped into the shadows and quickly traveled in their protection until he came upon the small vehicle, still driving away at a speed far beyond its natural means. There were four, no five of them, as far as he could tell, but it made no difference. They would all be dead soon enough.
With an enraged roar, Albrecht materialized in the shadow of the car and dug his teeth into the little warlock at greatest fault for this downfall. The man yelped in pain and raised one hand to secure the hat on his head before using another to push Albrecht away so he could stop the bleeding. He had no intention of letting him live.
A glimmer of something shiny peaked out from underneath, but he had little time to dwell on it as a stake was driven almost into his heart. Whirling around on the would-be attacker, the Major sunk his claws deep into their forearm, tearing through it with a growl of surprise at the strangely wooden texture. He grinned in satisfaction as a sharp hiss of pain rang out from whatever the thing was. It still felt pain, so even if it wasn’t human, he could still break it.
Half drunk on this strange ecstasy, he almost missed the smell of steel. His mind suddenly flared with a sense of danger, and he pulled away as a shot rang out, hitting the side of his helmet and exposing part of his face to the blasted false sun.
Like a bucket of boiling water, the pain brought him back into focus, and Albrecht immediately retreated into the shadows, taking the limb he’d managed to sever with him. With his armor damaged even this much, he wasn’t fool enough to risk an end to his plans even with his spiked blood lust.
Note: The procedure mentioned at the beginning of the chapter is for a sinus lift to increase the bone level enough to place a dental implant.
Who is the evilest character in your wip Bloodmage and why do you feel that way?
Ohh great question. Thanks for the ask.
I don't have a full name for him yet since I'm waffleling between a few of them at the moment, so as of now, I just call him the Major.
In his quest for power and an extended life, he had committed just about every war crime he could manage to in the ten years of the war before he found a way to turn himself into a vampire. Needless to say, he just got worse with the increase in power.
When his country started losing the war, the Major allied with the tech witches to try and mass produce bloodmages to send the world into chaos and take attention away from him so he could regroup his vampire army.
His ultimate goal is enslavement of the world, and he will search out any and every person who is even slightly aligned with his mindset to use them for his greater purpose.
He enjoys the challenge of breaking people and veiws mercy as weakness.
He might have been a monster in the beginning, but that is what fear and his twisted heart drove him to become one step at a time.
Thanks again for the ask! I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.
Empty
Random writing??? Who knows where it came from.
How was it that when he looked into his memories, all that stared back at him were blurred fragments?
He felt that there should have been something concrete there, something to cement him down as whatever creature he happened to be. Shouldn't all creatures capable of thought at least have that much?
Gripping the side of his head in frustration, he stood from the cold ground and stumbled along in the darkness, his vision just as blurred as his memories. A part of him knew this was wrong, that he should know something specific, but like a shadow dancing at the very corner of one's vision, the thing seemed to fade whenever he tried to bring it into focus.
Did he even want to know what he was? The idea bored into his mind like a worm making him question the only purpose he had managed to latch onto. Like some cruel tyrant it seemed determined to smother his confidence in the matter, making him all the more egar to pursue what he was.
There was something in that he supposed, some drive that he hadn't been aware of the moment before. It appeared that for whatever else he might be, stubborn was a part of it.
@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt
Summary: Tori, a loyal soldier, has his alegences tested and finds that his loyalty to his country isn't as strong as he first believed.
Finally, a Tori Story. We're getting the perspective of another in the rag-tag squad of my WIP.
Chapter warning: referenced violence, violence, killing, referenced torture, and the picture at the end shows violence and injury.
Tori had been raised like all of the other able bodied children in his village to be loyal soldiers. He killed and maimed without regret, without hesitation because the people that he was sent after were the enemies, and if he wanted to keep himself and others safe, they needed to die. He wasn’t a sociopath, they’d tested him for that. Tori was just someone who had long ago reconciled that he could live with himself. He could wait for regret if he ever made it to retirement.
He had never questioned orders, been a faithful dog, and he had planned to remain like that until the evening when he received a new set of orders. This time, he wouldn’t be hunting down a traitor or ripping the life from a target. This time, he was capturing something. He’d never been ordered to capture something alive. He’d never had reason to.
The creature in question was suspected to be some type of extra-terrestrial, an invader to their planet. He didn’t need to question his orders, and he’d never had reason to up until he laid eyes on the creature. The moment it had looked up at him with eyes that seemed to contain galaxies, everything became complicated. Then it had saved him. That was the only reason they had managed to apprehend it, and now he was haunted by the low bellows of its pained cries.
The creature never spoke, but its voice rang through the minds of its captors. The other’s in charge of watching the creature found the sound to be soothing or funny, but he couldn’t help but feel a hollow pang in his guts as the underground facility was flooded with the creature’s cries for help.
He couldn’t understand what the sounds were at first, but the more time he spent focused on them, the more clearly he could hear it calling out for something, begging for its freedom. When they had found the creature it had been hiding among a pack of wolves, peacefully living out a life of serenity, and now it was being poked and prodded by the deft hands of his own people, all in the name of some strange advancement that made no sense to him no matter what argument they gave to convince him.
Tori was off duty when the storm struck, when the sirens blared so loud that he was woken from his drug induced sleep. A sharp pain throbbed behind his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet, mind instantly turning to the creature. Had it escaped? A part of him hoped that it had, but then a sickening feeling crossed through him as he thought of what means the other guards might use to contain the creature.
If it were in better shape, but the creature was kept on the brink of life and death to avoid such situations. Gripping his gun tightly, Tori rushed out of his room, an idea springing so suddenly into his mind that he wondered if it had been planted there.
He could get the creature out of here, he could rectify his mistake.
His heart tightened at the idea. If he had a chance to free it, then Tori already knew what he would do. He had been far too deeply influenced by its song and eaten by newfound guilt to choose any other option.
The sound of a struggling guard rang out from the main lab as he approached, and Tori hesitated before carefully peaking around the door frame. Two hulking figures near the shattered containment cell instantly turned towards him. An operation? No, they were wearing POW uniforms or what was left of them, not only that they were quite battered as well. So why were they here?
The female POW tightened her chokehold on a guard, and Tori watched as the man suddenly went limp. Raising his gun, he wasn’t so foolish to enter the room with the POW’s even if he was armed. Catching sight of the creature that he had been so concerned for held gently in the male POW’s arm, Tori felt his heart hitch. They had come to free it?
The sudden realization hit him like a bullet. They were here to do the job he hadn’t been able to. Even if he could have made it out with the creature, he couldn’t protect it after what he had done. Even with his mind made up, every ounce of his training fought against him as he lowered his gun and moved to the side.
“Go down this path, and you can reach an exit outside the camp.”
He wasn’t wearing his proper uniform at the moment, but they could likely tell what he was, so there was no reason for them to listen to his words, but he had to try.
The POW holding the creature over his shoulder straightened up and smiled broadly. It was a stupid grin that lacked the usual grit that he so often seen in the eyes of soldiers.
“You got it boss man.”
He winked suddenly, and Tori was so confused by the gesture that he barely noticed the woman glancing between them before a look of realization seemed to dawn on her.
“So no more killing?”
She seemed disappointed by that, but the male POW patted her shoulder gently.
“It’s okay Ember, boss man called the shot, you couldn’t have burned them with all this water anyway.”
It seemed to satisfy the woman who released her final victim and followed the man past Tori with a matching nod of recognition.
Standing for a moment in silence after they had left, Tori tried to make sense of what had just happened. Their behavior was far too strange, too irrational, but he supposed all that mattered was that the creature was safe. He would miss it’s presence, but if it would no longer have to cry in pain like that anymore, then He had done was required of him. As the song of its voice faded from his mind, Tori felt a sadness sink into his bones as he settled back onto his cot. He wouldn’t allow himself to be sad knowing that the creature’s cries had finally been quieted. With a strange peace that didn’t feel deserved, Tori fell back into a dreamless sleep for the first time since the cries had begun.
Thanks for the tag @kuebiko-writing
Song: We will all go together when we go (Tom Lehrer)
I don't even know how this thing came onto my radar, but it needs to start paying rent if it keeps hanging out in my brain.
No pressure tagging: @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin @creatrackers ,
@somethingclevermahogony @literally-just-zay
If you see this you are OBLIGATED to reblog w/ the song currently stuck in your head :)
Pick 3 OCs and give them each a song
Thanks for the tag, @literally-just-zay
I was planning to just do three but it was pretty fun so I just did the whole squad.
MA- Time in a bottle (Jim Croce)
Above all else, MA loves the world and wants to cherish every moment in it.
Owen- Army Dreamers (Kate Bush)
I had trouble with this one, but it fits him best because he could have been so much more if he had been given proper care.
Ember- Gasoline (Halsey)
Ember wasn't always a piromaniac, but one too many blows to the head, and one failed burning execution changed many things about her.
Bonus!
Tori-Baker (Aimee Carty)
He is quite skilled and, in his own way, very good at his job. He just works with crazy people who are better than him in their fields.
Hati- Believer (Imagine Dragons)
A core concept of Hati is his ability to change the world based on his beliefs
Billy- Gotta Be A Reason (Alec Benjamin)
The centuries have not been kind to Billy, but he has to keep moving because who else will?
No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin ,
@somethingclevermahogony @creatrackers
Travel Buddies
Thanks for the tag, @literally-just-zay
I'm picking my main WIP for this one.
1. Doing mad research for an affordable place for everyone to stay
Tori-, as the leader of this rag-tag group of fighters and by far the most sane of the bunch, the responsibility of accommodations often falls to him.
2. Hoping to try all the new food they can.
MA - Ever eager to try what the world has to offer past pain and suffering. MA will often try anything at least once, baring things that will directly harm those around her.
3. Wants to stay inside and sleep through the whole vacation.
Billy - He isn’t one for merriment and prefers to tend to plants or read books in his spare time.
4. Believes no vacation is complete without certain activities (going to the beach, swimming, skiing, sightseeing, hiking, ect, whatever they’re passionate about.
Hati - The resident mechanic is a staunch believer in doing things in the way that he believes is ‘objectively’ correct. If he gets the opportunity, he will drag others along with him willing or not.
5. Is annoyed that certain people are in the same travel group as them.
Billy and Ember - They tolerate each other for the sake of the whole, but with one being a pyromaniac far to willing to burn anything in her wake, and the other being a forest guardian, their personalities tend to mix like water and oil.
6. Buying souvenirs for everyone back home
Ma/Owen/Hati/Ember/Tori/ Billy - In that order. While some of them might be more stoic in their expressions of affection, everyone on the crew is fairly close besides Ember and Billy. While some of them don’t lean towards sentimentality, none of them can resist the urge to pick up bobbles that remind them of their squad mates.
7. Is about to turn this trip into a business trip.
Billy all the way. If he finds a target, his rifle is never far out of reach, and he will abruptly split off the group to do some “Gardening” if he sees someone that crosses his bottom line.
No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @flurrysahin @davycoquette ,
@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +open tag
Last Line Tag
Thanks for the tag @kuebiko-writing
Sorry for the late response.
This is just a bit of my little bloodmage WIP giving a bit of perspective on Billy's motivations
Forest Guardian’s were, above all else, the protectors of nature and were often referred to as its shepherds. Long had they used their power and gile to protect their flock. That had been fine when the humans still held reverence for the sacred, but as that reverence faded, humans had changed. They become far too dangerous to rely on traditional methods. Defeat after defeat forced the shepherds to evolve, and Billy had been no different.
Handing his staff over to the strange human he watched as the living wood of his shepherds crook was twisted into a more fitting tool, no not just a tool, this thing was a weapon that he would use to sow vengeance.
No pressure tags: @kuebiko-writing @renasdoodles @davycoquette @flurrysahin ,
@literally-just-zay @creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony + open tag
(Let me know if you want to be taken off the tag list)
Talking to someone about monster ideas and came up with this one.
This creature was a madman's failed attempt to artificially produce sentient life. The creature burrows under cities and primarily infiltrates children's dreams at night, replacing their dreams with its nightmares in order to offset the pain of its existence.
If left unchecked, the dreams steadily get darker and begin to twist the victim's minds under the control of the abomination, which then uses its victims to draw in others for it to feed on.
The best time to attack the creature is when it is trying to feed, but be warned that it's victims can and will alert the creature of any danger, even going so far as to sacrifice themselves for the creature to escape.
There have only been a handful of sightings since they were released into the world, but recently, a city suffered from an earthquake that drove a fifteen meter specimen to the surface. It proceeded to devoure the city's residence before succumbing to its injuries.
This incident indicates a level of patience and cunning that was not previously attributed to the creatures.
If you're reading this right now, and you are in a writing mood, get off this app right now and go write something. If you feel like you can write good things for a while and continue on with your WIP, then go do it. You could get some really good chapters or parts or whatever done on you story, and if you post, then the people that read it can be happy when they read your work.
If you're a writer, and you are in a writing mood, go write now, because you don't know the next time you will be in a mood like this. It will probably be another month.
Heads Up, Seven Up
Share 7 lines from one of your WIPs
Thanks for the tag, @renasdoodles
I haven't reached the editing faze of my WIP yet, so you just get the unedited insanity that it is at the core.
Taking a deep breath, Owen released his hold. Maren had finally calmed down once he got her out of the water and rested.
Well calmed down in the fact that she was currently unconscious. He still had to go off into the woods to look for anything that could help fight the withdrawal symptoms.
This was fun. Thanks for the tag!
No pressure tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag
@flashfictionfridayofficial
Sorry, I'm a bit late with this one, but I think I got it in just before the deadline. I had just finished the picture when the internet went out, and I had to transfer the story over to my phone manually. Unfortunately, I may or may not have fallen asleep while doing so, and I have just woken up in a panic to get this posted.
Summary: If the story calls for a villain, then what choice does a character have but to follow? Alexia, a proud and just knight, finds herself victim of this unfortunate reality.
Her Angel
Noble Alexia, good and loyal. She had come from the gutter and reached the peak of excellence. Becoming a knight had been her dream, but becoming the commander of the knight's had been her honor. The tales of her deeds and bravery spread through the world, memorializing her even before the first wrinkles of age had etched into her face. Truly a hero of legends; a figure that would be spoken of in whispers to starry-eyed young ones before bed.
Three years into her role as the knight commander, Alexia woke up to find her hands covered in blood. It hadn't been right, she had just been having a meal with a trusted friend, just been talking about her future with someone dear, then she blinked and found her hands covered in the blood of innocents.
It was at that moment that her life was irreversibly changed. The blackouts increased in frequency and duration, but when she sought help, no one could understand her ravings. The isolation brought her to the edge of her sanity when one night as she fearfully lay down in her bed, Alexia found that her eyes would jot close, and her fingers would no longer obey her commands.
Standing from her bed, she dawned unfamiliar clothes and met unfamiliar people. Her body moved against her will, and her lips spoke words that never should have been uttered. Whatever demon had possessed her seemed to find sick enjoyment in watching her suffer, for even in her few sane moments of control, it would jot let her end the torment. That didn't stop her from trying. The hesitation only lasted for the first dozen attempts before her disgust at the blood-soaked monster in her mirror drowned out any remaining pity for herself.
…
Coming to her senses once more Alexia tried to make sence of the stabbing pain pulsing through her with every breath, but with her body frozen in place, Alexia could only use her eyes to scan the surroundings. That was right, she'd been in a fight? She could see that her body was twisted at odd angles where she lay among a pile of rubble, memories flooding back to her in a disoriented array. She had been defeated by some upstart who shouldn't have the strength to lift her finger and been left to rot like the dog she had become.
The knight commander, formerly the golden sun of the empire, now lay dying in a suit of blackened armor befitting her new title of Scourge.
“Oh you're still alive?”
Alexia should have been taken by surprise at how close a stranger had gotten, but in her state a bull could be charging and she'd likely fail to notice.
"From the looks of it, your story ended in death, so why do you still haunt the living?”
The gaudy angelic figure stooped nearly mumbling ti itself while grasping the air from alexia. She felt her jaw tighten instinctively as a thin blue tether materialized leading back to her heart. Gathering the cord in its hand, the creature before her frowned in concentration before suddenly brightening.
“So they forgot you couldn't be killed by demonic energy? How fortunate that it seems to at least weaken you beyond their ability to sense.”
The creature seemed amused by whatever magic it had used to know such a dark secret of hers. Had it truely come to take her to the other side? No, after what she had done there was no way that such a beautiful creature would have any business with her. It took another cord and inspected it growing somber once more.
“Stay still for a moment longer, I will not let them have you anymore.”
With simple words, and they weren't even meant for her really as the creature still seemed to be taking more to itself than anything. Still her heart jumped at the forgotten convictions that she had been forced to swallow back. The creature grabbed a red strand in front of her and with a thin blade, cut the cord.
…
Sitting across from the gaudy man whom she has come to value as a friend. Alexia couldn't help but smile at his concentration on the food before him. She had come to learn over the years that he was mostly as human as anyone, even with his lack of factual features. To this world, he was expendable, to many of its inhabitants he was a monster, but to Alexia and Alexia alone, he was the same thing that he had always been to her.
“My Angel."
She spoke the words softly and reached out a hand to gently caress his face, while a soft smile spread over her lips.
Thank for the tag @renasdoodles
Favorite Color: it's blue
Last song: Fly Me to the Moon (Frank Sinatra)
Currently Reading: Dragonflight by Anne Mccaffey (I just started it on recommendation and haven't had much time to read it yet)
Currently watching: nothing but the last thing was P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster.
Currently Craving: Potato pancakes
Coffee or Tea: Sweet tea all the way
No pressure tag: @kuebiko-writing @flurrysahin + open tag
Thanks for the tag, @seastarblue
1. I have broken my wrist before
2. I love fantasy stories (but I'm good with most genres if the story interests me)
3. My favorite color is blue
Tagging in (no pressure)
@renasdoodles
@kuebiko-writing
@davycoquette
+open tag
Ah shit, I was gone for another ten days or so... Woops...
I finished editing during that time and am now currently taking a vacation from writing.
I should be doing some tag games now... Hehe...
God, why am I so bad at being active???
OC's favorite snack tag game.
What is one of your characters' favorite snacks, and why?
(I had this idea randomly and was suddenly very curious to hear about different character's choices on this topic) (If you feel so inclined to talk about multiple examples, I'd love to hear them!)
For my part: Owen the Medic
Favorite snack: chocolate chip cookies.
He wasn't originally a big fan of sweets, but one of the members of his squad started baking for all of them whenever they got the chance, and Owen discovered his love for warm cookies. He has gotten experimental with caramel and pretzels, but the classic chocolate chip always wins as it reminds him of the family he found during the war.
Tagging: @renasdoodles @davycoquette @kuebiko-writing +open tag!
Prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial
Well, I haven’t touched this story in years, but it was fun to get back to.
Summary: In the universe of a certain author who likes switching stories, there was born a character who was sickly. His entire purpose was to be one of the faceless beings that was saved by a hero’s benevolence. Not even his own family noticed him outside of the story, and he lived most of his early miserable life trying to figure out what was going on. One day he finds a crack in the universe left by conflicting story ideas, peering inside he learns that he is part of a fictional world and decides to take advantage of the illogical nature of things to propel his life forward.
Abandoned
Nihil stretched out a clawed hand and did his best interpretation of a yawn.
It was early morning and he had work to get to before the horrid sun rose and decided once more that he was to have an unlucky day. Damn author favoring the day time so much, if it weren’t for the implications of working at night, and the stories that went along with it, he would have been turned into a night owl.
No, the pre-dawn mornings were special in that none of the little pest’s were out and about causing mischief yet. They were all sleeping or training their fingers to the bone. Sure it might be impressive the diligence that they had, but even covered in sweat and bleeding they would become stronger than any being had the right to with three times their training, no matter how sloppy their technique.
Stepping down to the kitchen, Nihil began preparing something simple to eat when he heard the sound of a sword swinging powerfully outside the window. Raising his attention he mimicked a frown, the knight was no longer bond by the author’s methods yet still she trained like this, there were better ways, ways that both of them were quite familiar with at this point. Still it showed a dedication that he supposed was admirable. Changing his plans, Nihil began mixing up some hot cake batter and quickly flipped the dial igniting the stove top.
He continued to absently watch her training as he cooked until her expression suddenly shifted turning to him. He’d finally been caught. It sent a trill of excitement through him as he reveled in the feeling of being recognized in something so simple as the plain clothes he was wearing.
“Morning Nihil, did you sleep well?”
A smile bloomed on her face as the knight stepped through the open door to the kitchen. To even remember his name… He mimicked a smile back at her and raised a pile of hot cakes towards her direction.
“Seems there was another break in at Facility B, but other than that I slept fairly well. Tell me you at least let yourself get some sleep?”
She had the bad habit of using all the tricks for the wrong reasons, and while Nihil was familiar with the desire to improve his understanding of this messed up world no matter the cost to his health, there was just no true replacement for sleep long term.
The knight shrugged and accepted the hotcakes adding on some berries and syrup for good measure. She skipped the butter again, but he didn’t blame her, after the recent shortages he barely used any on his own breakfast.
Deactivating the stove, he prepared his own hot cakes and quickly followed her lead to the table where they both ate in happy silence.
Looking at his companion from time to time with a mimicked grin, Nihil didn’t feel as bad about the years of research that had been burnt to ash during the night. With all the knowledge and power he’d gained over the years, Nihil couldn’t have wished for such a simple thing as eating breakfast with someone he was comfortable around until he’d met the Knight. It brought him some comfort that at least not everything that that blasted author mucked up was completely rotten.
Poem Writing challenge
Thanks for tag @renasdoodles
I don't write poetry much, but this was fun! Thanks for sharing the prompt.
Waiting
Staring at a wall of clocks,
He timed the tics, counted the tocs.
He waited in her favorite chair,
Sitting with a quiet stare.
Till suddenly with grave despair,
He saw her spirit floating there.
It smiled in a simple way,
As her visage faded into grey.
Staring at a wall of clocks,
He couldn't hear their muffled knocks.
He stood up from her favorite chair,
Left with nothing but despair.
Tagging @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette @flurrysahin +open tag
(if you would like to be removed from the tag list, please let me know!)
Callisto- a current representative of one of the United cryptids self-government.
Thanks for the tag @renasdoodles
Favorite Color- Blue, especially deep blue or sea blue.
Last Fun Activity- Brainstorming about the main original story I have been working on.
Song(s) Stuck in My Head- Happy Days (Turtles). I only knew one line from it and then stumbled on the full song by chance. It has been playing in my head almost nonstop since then.
Current Obsession - Attempting to write. (My success has been limited, but I'm at least getting something done.
Spicy/Sweet/Savory- Savory or spicy, depends on my mood at the time.
Last thing I Googled- What is a Rakshasa.
Something you are looking forward to- my six day break starting tomorrow. It will be nice to get some worry free writing done (but I know deep down most of that time will be me procrastinating).
Tagging: @kuebiko-writing @davycoquette +open tag
@flashfictionfridayofficial
Story Warning: Mentions of burning people, sadistic behavior, and descriptions of body horror.
Much to his disgust, the air in his tent felt fresher than it had in months. How long had it been since his fingers had started to twitch again? With a renewed wave of irritation, the Sergeant stood up from his desk for the first time in days and decided it wouldn't be breaking orders if he stopped the fire from getting out of control this time. Since he was young, it had been the one thing that brought him joy. Back then, he would burn anything he could get his hands on, bugs, animals, or plants. It didn’t matter much. They all sparked a strange joy in his heart. That being said, there had always been something missing, some itch he’d never quite been able to scratch no matter how much he burned.
Then the war came, and he discovered the one thing he had failed to consider as a target: people. Unlike the other things he had burned, people tended to beg and plead. They might call him a monster, but at least he was aware enough to know that the sense of power he felt from their cries sated the desire he had been starving from. To date he had burned three-hundred and eighty-seven prisoners, with only one survivor who he would track down eventually, but the war was still young, and in what was proving to be a battle of attrition, the Sergeant could tell that he might even be able to push those numbers into the thousands.
“Is the area clear?”
His assistant exited the tent and quickly returned. There was fear in his eyes as the Sergeant stared down at him intensely. There should be several more prisoners, so the assistant wouldn’t have anything to fear unless he got on the Sergeant’s nerves.
“The troops have rounded up all the rats.”
A smile spread over his face at that. They had sent more pathetic mice to try and end him, but they were just providing him the entertainment that he craved. It was poetic in a way that he realized was probably sick.
“Well, then we can’t keep them waiting.”
Stepping out of his tent, the Sergeant felt a sharp pain in his chest and looked down to see a spot of red right above his heart that was quickly expanding. His assistant stumbled and grasped one of his eyes with a scream of pain. The Sergeant’s skin grew cold as an overwhelming sense of dread washed over him as screams of pain began emanating through their camp. His soldiers were the best. They wouldn’t have been taken out so easily, he couldn’t be taken out so easily.
Collapsing to the ground while clutching his wound, the Sergeant watched his assistant let out a final cry of agony as a green sprout began to poke out between his bloodied fingers. The Sergeant barely felt his own pain as he lay almost paralyzed on the ground, wondering how this had happened. As his vision began to grow hazy, he saw what looked like a living tree stepping towards him. He couldn’t understand what had happened, but he could feel in his bones that the thing was coming for him.
-Five-thousand eight-hundred and twelve, quite the high toll for someone so young-
The words sounded like a whisper of wind rustling through leaves. HE didn’t have time to contemplate what this creature was as a crushing pain passed through him and for the first time in his life the Sergeant began babbling incoherent pleas for his life for what felt like an eternity before his body stopped responding to his commands and he was forced to lay in frozen agony as his body was eaten from within.
…
“Hey Billy! MA was worried”
The Forest Guardian begrudgingly took his eyes off of his latest target. Owen was running towards him with a stupid grin plastered over his face like he wasn’t stepping over twisted bodies while covered in blood. This man… he needed to get his head checked.
Still, he meant well and seemed to be in functioning condition, so Billy didn't need to spare his attention just yet. With a wave of his hand, Billy dismissed his concern and turned back to the bodies with a smile of surprise. A field of violets had begun to bloom from the dead. It was well worth the three days he’d spent watching the tent through his rifle scope.
It never ceased to amaze him how people who had caused so much pain to the world always seemed to make the most beautiful flowers.