Prompt-of-the-Week Club

[Sporty]

Haha, true XD But I'm talking super meta, like, it was basically gonna be a story about me trying to write a story for Prompt-of-the-Week Club :I

Haha, very nice! And ohmai, Markus is very old isn't he? I'd thought before that the mummy thing took place hundreds+ years after the novel story, but this actually makes a lot more sense now considering how there didn't seem to be much in the way of fancy futuristic tech in the mummy one ^^;

[Deleted]

xD Nothing wrong with that.

Yup, he is. Incredibly old, actually--older than any recorded human history. But he's also not exactly normal. The mummy one takes place in our present day, and the novel and this last PotW entry take place about 4300 years afterward, to give you a timeline.

He does miss his children (his race is extinct). But Terra is actually one of his descendants from his oldest bloodline, so at least he has her.

[Deleted]

Well, it's Monday again! How'd everyone do?

Here's mine:

SPOILER: Click to show

It was the first of autumn and the perfect time for mushroom hunting.

Fire-red leaves rained gently down on the forest floor, creating a lush scarlet carpet that Kieri was happy to crunch through. Thiswhit was at her side, his long, white, furry body undulating as he dove in and out of the sea of oranges and yellows. The little tribbit always enjoyed autumn, Kieri knew, and not the least because of the leaf piles.

A bitter wind suddenly gusted in from the north and Kieri wrapped her wool scarf tighter around her neck and ears, nuzzling her freckled nose into the itchy weave. Once they’d gathered enough, Fraa promised, they’d go back to her home at Ju-Tar for hot sweet milk and pan-fried mushrooms. But Kieri didn’t mind the cold so much because all the world was ablaze in red and gold, and she was with friends.

Fraa and Miette were further ahead. “You eat mushrooms?” Miette asked, tossing her iced-strawberry curls in confusion. “But they’re fungi! They grow out of the ground!”

Fraa threw back her goblinesque Graling head and laughed, the scraggly crimson wings on her back shaking and the long tendrils of flesh on her neck swaying merrily. “Out of the ground, everything grows that we eat on the surface, young Sky Goddess!”

Sometimes, Kieri thought as she kicked through pools of leaves, it was hard to remember just how different Miette was, that she came from the cities in the sky which were so unlike the way things were on the land.

Miette blushed. “O-of course, I hadn’t thought of that. And you needn’t call me a ‘Sky Goddess’, Fraa, really. You know the Aehirim aren’t divine.”

“Just a joke,” the Graling warrior grinned, patting the girl’s shoulder. “Now! Fraa Stormcleaver, the best mushrooms, she will show you where to find them! Onward!”

“Wait for me!” Kieri cried, bounding after them with her scarf and flaxen pigtails flying. “I wanna learn too!” Thiswhit let out an agitated trill at not being able to keep up with her with his stubby legs, as he kept plunging into deep leaf piles and having to burrow his way out.

“You will!” Fraa called over her shoulder. “You, I would not forget, child of honor!”

Kieri giggled at the title Fraa had bestowed upon her on the day they’d met, and quickened her pace.

“The brown-cap mushrooms, they grow in hollows of trees,” Fraa explained, crouching down between the gnarled roots of an enormous old oak. “Sometimes, a little digging, you must do it.” She began scraping away the fallen leaves with her claws.

“It looks awfully untidy,” Miette said, sucking in a sharp breath and looking at her own clean, pale hands.

“Okay then, we’ll do all the work and you can carry ‘em!” Kieri negotiated, kneeling down next to Fraa and plunging her arms into the warm dampness of wet leaves and loamy earth. Thiswhit arrived soon after and began gleefully doing the same, his curly white fur quickly becoming covered in dark soil.

“Wha—hey!!” Miette squeaked. “I’ll ruin my new coat! No, thank you!”

“By now, new coats getting ruined, I think you would get used to it,” Fraa chuckled.

Miette puffed out her cheeks and looked away. “That wasn’t my fault.”

Kieri pulled away a clump of leaves and saw, nestled in a tangled crook of roots, a clump of sumptuously round, golden-brown mushrooms. “Fraa, are these them?”

“Eh?” The Graling let up on Miette and turned around. “Ayyy! These, they are the brown-caps! Well done, child of honor!” She gave Kieri a hearty pat on the back. “The best fried mushrooms, these make them!”

“I want to see,” Miette announced, edging toward the hollow that the three others had dug. Suddenly, the soft soil gave way beneath her, and with a yelp, she went skidding down the leafy embankment, crashing into Kieri and sending both girls flying.

“Ooof… you okay?” Kieri asked, helping Miette off of her.

The redhead checked herself for injuries. “I’m fine, but… my coat!!” It was covered in dirt, slime, and dead leaves.

Fraa, Kieri, and Miette looked at each other for a moment and then burst out laughing.

***

Kieri was the epitome of comfortable, cradled in one of the huge plush pillows at Fraa’s flat, a warm blanket around her shoulders and a sleeping Thiswhit in her lap, nursing a mug of steaming sweet milk as she watched the lights of Ju-Tar reflect off of sheets of pouring rain. A cable cab steadily crawled its way across the city skyline, probably bringing Graling statespersons home from their jobs at the city hall.

“Today was a good day,” she sighed to Miette, who was sitting next to her, perched primly on her own pillow and poring over a book she’d borrowed from the city archives.

“Mm-hm,” the Aehirim girl replied, having just taken a sip from her own mug. She’d laundered her coat when they got back to town and it looked nearly good as new, with only the slightest hint of mud stains. Despite all the fuss she’d made earlier, Miette had declared she’d wear it every time they went mushroom hunting from now on.

A savory aroma wafted from the nearby kitchenette, and Kieri inhaled deeply. “I hope those mushrooms taste as good as they smell, Fraa!” she laughed over her shoulder.

“Aye, they will, if Thiswhit, he does not eat them first!” came the answer, along with the sizzle and hiss of cooking food.

Kieri chortled and reached down to stroke her pet’s head, leaning back on the cushion and letting her eyelids drift shut in sublime relaxation. “Today was a good day,” she repeated.

This is a follow-up piece to a novel I wrote. These three characters were some of my favorites to write for, and I imagine that after the events of the novel, Fraa became something of a surrogate grandmother to Kieri and Miette. Must be pretty cool having a titled warrior for a grandma.

I mostly wrote this to celebrate the changing of the seasons and to try to evoke the kind of autumn we don't get here in the desert, but that I've always wanted to experience. I think my genes yearn for New England.

[Sporty]

I had a rather busy weekend and couldn't muster up the will to write anything for this prompt afterward, unfortunately ^^; It's a shame too... the tiny germ of an idea I'd had for it involved some characters that I haven't actually written for yet and was kind of looking forward to working with; I'll have to use them sometime soon.

Your story was great, Squid! It had a light and warmhearted feeling, and really seemed to capture the feel of autumn ^^ The characters and bits of worldbuilding were great too! It certainly seems like an intriguing kind of world, using a mythical sort of touch mixed with modern (or perhaps futuristic?) technology if I'm reading those hints of it right. And I kind of want to know more about what tribbets are like, because they sound adorable :I

Anyway, since I totally failed at writing anything for the second week in a row ( ) I may as well try and contribute with the next prompt:

"I blame you for this."
(Hopefully this one isn't too vague, but since it's a bit of dialogue rather than just a theme I thought that might make for something a little sharper to build a story around. Sorry if I'm wrong about that D: )

[Deleted]

That's okay, we all have those times. And at least you got that germ of an idea--you can incorporate it into something later, I'm sure.

Thanks! I'm pretty proud of the world I built in this novel. The Graling civilization, at least in their cities, is actually kind of steampunkish (in terms of level of technology, not necessarily culture). Miette's Aehirim race is highly advanced, on a futuristic level. Kieri's civilization isn't touched upon much in this short piece, but it's comparable to early 19th-century America.

Tribbits are a small mammalian species I made up for an older project that didn't really go anywhere. When I wrote the novel, I wanted Kieri to have a small, spunky animal companion, so I just appropriated that species and put them into her world.

Here's a portrait of Kieri and Thiswhit, to give you an idea of what tribbits look like.

Thanks for the prompt--that works great! The wheels in my mind are already turning, trying to figure out which characters I can use that would incorporate that bit of dialogue into a conversation... *schemes*

[Deleted]

It's that time of the week again!

SPOILER: Click to show

“I blame you for this.”

“Me? Me?! You’re the one who was too soft on her, Morh!”

“You were too harsh on her, Iramick!” Morh knew Iramick was really peeved at him when she used his actual name instead of calling him “brodda”. But he was pretty peeved at her, himself. The hulking orc captain stalked circles around his taller, more gaunt second. “Humans have delicate constitutions, you know that!”

In response, she backhanded him across his broad face. “I don’t care,” she hissed, baring her tusks, her yellow eyes glowing in the dusk. “She’s one of us now, Morh. She renounced her humanity when she joined our brod.”

“It wasn’t her choice to make!” Morh barked, shaking off the pain and glaring back. Iramick had only hit him to get her point across—if she’d really meant to do damage, she would have. But that was the kind of behavior he didn’t want to see Adele subject to. “We can’t force her to be an orc because of circumstances beyond her control!”

“You’re just hurting her, not helping her!” Iramick grabbed the collar of his tunic and yanked his face towards hers. “We’re mercenaries, Morh. Soldiers. Warriors. The sooner she fits in with us, the better, because there won’t be anyone looking after her on the battlefield.”

“She won’t be doing any fighting!” the captain roared, grabbing Iramick’s arm and twisting it away. “I’d refuse to allow it even if she wanted to! Her father would be furious if she died because of us! He’d never hire us again!”

The second crossed her arms, lowering her chin and looking up at him from below her heavy brow. “Well, I’m not babysitting her.”

Morh flung out his arms in exasperation. “I never said you had to!” With a groan, he closed his eyes and massaged the thick scutes on the bridge of his nose. “Everything’s crazy right now, I know. I’m sorry. This wasn’t how I wanted the alliance to work out, either, but the way things are going, it would be advantageous for our brod to stay on Corot’s good side. He’s amassing territories too quickly—no other states can withstand his campaigns.” The orc opened his eyes and looked at Iramick. “When it comes down to the wire, I’d rather we be on the side of the victor.”

The second stared at him for a moment and then seemed to deflate slightly, her shoulders slumping. “You’re too nearsighted. If Corot takes over all of Lien, we’re out of a job.”

“It’s the mercenary’s curse,” Morh agreed with a nod. “Chaos for others brings stability for us. But…” He adjusted the belt holding his scimitar. “Fighting isn’t all we know how to do. We could cope. Our ancestors did, after the Banishment.”

Iramick sighed and looked aside, into the darkening woods. “I don’t hate her, Morh. I’m sorry I act like I do. She’s just so… weak. She doesn’t belong here. You know it, I know it, and she knows it. The alliance may be good for us, but it’s made her life miserable.”

Morh felt his sinuses sting and he rubbed at his face to try to stave off the tears threatening to well in his eyes. “I’m trying so hard,” he choked. “She loathes us, she fears us.” He snorted, placing his massive hands on his hips. “I mean, look at us. We’re big, ugly, and rough. All we know how to do is fight and destroy. No human in their right mind could ever consider us family.” His eyes scanned the ground in front of him. “Even Corot just sees us as a tool of conquest. I wouldn’t be surprised if he taught his daughter to feel the same way.”

Iramick looked him over, and then chuckled softly, approaching him and hanging an arm around his wide shoulders. “If you really think that, brodda, you’re more clueless about women than I thought!”

At the sound of the familiar epithet, Morh’s pointed ears twitched and he looked up at her to see her smirking. “What?”

“She doesn’t hate you, I can tell you that much. If she really hated you, she’d be angry and argumentative with you and try to find ways to lash out, or whine all the time about wanting to go home. But instead she tries to please you and follow directions. She wants to be useful to you.”

Morh felt his heart skip a beat. “R-really?”

Iramick nodded. “Heh, yeah. You know…” She scratched the back of her head, laughing sheepishly. “That’s how this all started, actually. She’d come to me and asked if she could learn to ride a verk.”

The captain’s eyes widened. “Ride a verk? She’s got guts.”

Iramick folded her arms. “Aye, she has more ambition than she lets on, I think.” Her smirk faded. “I should have responded better, but it’s been a long day and the last thing I wanted was to deal with stupid questions from a greenhorn. That’s why I told her she was too weak, that she should be prepared to either grow strong here or die, and that I had my bets on the latter.” At the sight of Morh’s frown, she sighed. “I’m sorry, brodda. Humies are ridiculously delicate creatures. Even more so when they’re princesses.”

“Hm.” Morh smiled weakly. “Not her fault she didn’t grow up on a farm.”

“Didn’t say it was.” Iramick pulled away and held out her hand. “Please, accept my apologies,” she petitioned more formally.

Her captain grabbed her arm at the elbow and they clasped forearms with a brief shake. “Apology accepted. You can make up for it by helping me find her.”

“Agh, not that,” Iramick groused mockingly. “Can’t I just sharpen all your blades and clean your armor?”

Morh laughed and slapped her on the back. “No, because I know you’d put spiders in my helmet!”

“I only did that once!” the other orc guffawed as she led her captain into the woods. “Someone’s got to keep you on your toes!”

Morh snickered before growing silent. As they headed farther into the forest, the noise of their camp was slowly replaced by the calls of owls and sounds of insects, and the jangling and stretching of the orcs’ own attire and equipment. “Iramick…” He finally broke the tension between them. “Are you jealous of her?”

“I guess so,” the second was quick to say. Morh appreciated that she was straightforward even about her own feelings. “But it’s a natural reaction. I mean, you grow up with a person, know them all your life, fight alongside them and save their hide in battle more times than you can count… then suddenly they’ve got someone to take care of. You’re brod, Morh. You’re family. She’s an outsider who just needs your time and attention because of politics.”

Morh thought about this. “… She’s brod,” he said with much deliberation, trying to be diplomatic. “I don’t want her to be thought of as an outsider by any of our brodda. She may be human, she may be different from us in a lot of ways, but the least we can do is try to make her feel like she has a home with us.”

“Couldn’t she go back to her father?”

“I would love to let her,” Morh sighed, watching Iramick’s shoulders bob up and down, her head swinging from side to side as she picked out minute signs of someone passing through the area earlier. Iramick had always been a much better tracker than him. “But he might take that as an insult. That’s a pretty big rejection to give a king.”

“Aye,” Iramick muttered. “I suppose it is.”

The captain glanced up at the moonlight through the trees. Adele was stuck with them, whether she and his brod liked it or not. And he knew they didn’t.

***

They finally found her perched on a low-hanging branch of an old and mighty oak. The brown-haired girl was young, fresh out of adolescence, but seemed to the captain to be more childish than other young human women in both her looks and demeanor. Unlike most princesses he was aware of, she wore a simple tunic and pants, not enough to keep her warm on this cold autumn night. She started at their approach and looked down at them with wet cheeks and red eyes, and Morh tried to exude as much softness as an orc possibly could. “There you are,” he said up to her. “We’ve been looking all over for you…”

Adele hugged her knees to her chest, her teeth chattering. “Why? I d-don’t fit in. If I’m going to d-die I might as well go off and do it and n-not inconvenience you any more.”

Iramick put her hands on her hips. “Enough with the self-pity. You want to survive with us, you get some common sense and don’t go running off into the woods at night.”

“Please.” Morh put up a hand to signal her to stop talking, shooting an exasperated glare her way before looking back at the human. “Iramick is very sorry for what she said to you. She didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah I did,” the second muttered under her breath, low enough for Adele not to hear and Morh to ignore. “Yeah, I’m sorry,” she said more loudly. “Just come back with us, okay? Before something eats you.”

Morh jabbed her with an elbow. “Knock it off.”

The princess buried her head in her knees. “None of you w-want me th-there.”

The orc captain’s face fell. “Listen, Adele? I can take you back to your father if… if that’s what you want. I know you’re not comfortable here, and I…” He hung his head. “I’m sorry I can’t make you happy.” Forget the alliance. It was killing him to see someone suffer like this.

“No!” She suddenly jerked her head up and looked at Morh in shock. At first he thought maybe she would say that he did make her happy, but the next things out of her mouth dashed that conceited little hope. “P-please don’t take me back there, I can’t s-stand him!”

The orcs’ eyes widened and they glanced at each other. “I don’t understand…” Morh began.

“You should at least get down from that tree to explain,” Iramick interrupted, “unless you’re trying to freeze to death.”

Adele nodded and began slowly, numbly climbing down. Morh put his hands gingerly on her sides and helped her descend. He knew she probably found his touch revolting, but he didn’t want her to slip and injure herself. Once she was on the ground, she took a few shaky steps and then collapsed, holding her arms. Morh could see that her lips were starting to turn blue.

“Here.” Iramick suddenly unfastened her cloak and draped it over the girl.

Adele held it close around her shoulders. “Th-thank you…”

Morh crouched next to her. “Can you walk?”

In response, she tried to push herself off the ground, but fell to her knees. “I… I’m too c-cold.”

“I’m going to carry you. Just relax.” She didn’t voice any complaint, so he carefully slipped his arms around her.

“You know, walking will warm her up faster,” Iramick remarked as Morh hefted the princess up against his chest and they began their return.

“Let’s give her a break, she’s been through enough lately.” He looked down at the pitiful human shivering uncontrollably. “Adele, why don’t you want to go back?”

“My father hates me,” she replied bitterly, her face turned away from the orc—which Morh found understandable, as he was anything but pretty, especially close up. “There has never been any love for me in his eyes. He raised me for one purpose: to be given away, just like my brothers and sisters before me.”

The orcs exchanged another glance, although this one was full of confusion and disgust. Morh knew Iramick was thinking the same thing as he was. How could any father treat their children like political pawns, as mere means to an end? Well, if he was someone like Corot, Morh wouldn’t put it past him.

In spite of his misgivings, Morh hugged Adele. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That will never happen to you here. Orcs don’t believe in such idiocy.”

Iramick let out a low whistle. “That’s pretty beastly. Don’t worry, little humie. You’ll have a better life with us.”

“I don’t know if I can be an orc.” Adele’s voice began to crack and she hid her face in the cloak.

“You don’t have to be,” Morh assured her. “Just be yourself. Being brod doesn’t have anything to do with your species. It’s about accepting everyone in the band for who they are, for the unique things they can contribute. I know things are different here from what you’re used to, but I won’t force you to change. You do things at your own pace, when you’re ready.”

She nodded. “All… all right.”

“And you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. I’m not expecting you to. As a matter of fact, I would prefer that you didn’t.”

The princess’s expression darkened. “I know. You don’t want my father to break off the alliance.”

The captain shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Seeing the confused look on Adele’s face drove home his suspicions. “I hope one day you’ll understand that you have innate worth as a person. It has nothing to do with the political advantages you give, or any skills you might possess.”

“Heh.” He looked over to see Iramick smirking at him. “Do you hear yourself, brodda? You sound like a sentimental scholar.”

He smiled a little proudly. “Perhaps, once all of this is over, I will become a scholar—“ He was cut off by Adele throwing her arms around his neck and he looked down at her in astonishment. Iramick was right; she didn’t hate him. His smile growing, Morh hugged Adele close.

“Maybe someday I’ll believe that,” the princess murmured exhaustedly.

“I’ll make sure you do,” he replied.

“And so will I,” Iramick chimed in with a toothy grin. “No, really, I will,” she promised as Morh gave her a warning glare. “No pranks or tricks. Not on her, at least. You’re still fair game, brodda.”

Morh laughed. “You put all the spiders in my helmet you want, if it means accepting Adele.”

“Deal.” Iramick looked down at the human cradled in her captain’s arms. “I’ll teach you how to ride a verk, sure. We’ll start tomorrow.”

Notes:

SPOILER: Click to show

Ironically, I'm an extremely non-confrontational person, but I enjoy writing arguments. As long as they're arguments between my own characters. Secretly, it stresses me out when one of my characters argues with someone else's character in an RP. <.< Anyway, I like the idea that Morh and Iramick are usually thick as thieves, but when they do disagree about something, they're not afraid to show it. But I think that reinforces how strong the bond between them is, that they're so honest with each other about everything, the good and the bad. Also, Morh is a good five inches shorter than Iramick--he's very short for a male orc, but orcs in this universe run taller than humans, so he's still like 6'2".

And here we have introduced one of the other main characters of this story: Princess Adele of Kelwing, whose ruthless expansionist father does shocking things like give his youngest daughter to the leader of a band of mercenary orcs to secure their allegiance.

I'm surprised by how much I was able to get out of this prompt--this may actually end up being in the manuscript somewhere.

Also, I guess I should explain the idea of brod, an orcish word that more or less means "kinsman/woman" (and is also the plural form). This is a cultural term that started emerging when single orcs of both genders started banding together to become traveling mercenary armies, to fulfill a need for warfare that couldn't be satiated in the small, scattered settlements where orc families live, nor in the venerable but rather musty old orcish capitol of Caed Dhraos (which in fact used to be an orc/human capitol, but over the centuries since the Banishment the ties between humans and orcs have drifted apart substantially). Considering all of the fighting going on between the different human states at this period, there's always plenty of work for these armies of brod, most of whom never really settle down.

/random rambling

Oh, and here's this week's prompt:

the last of your kind

[Sporty]

Ooh, I love Morh & Iramick stories! This one was especially good, and I certainly can see it going into a novel

I... actually couldn't think up an ending to my story just yet, probably because I was mostly focused on the theme of the prompt (which ended up pretty much just relating to the beginning of the story, lol). So, because of that and because the story ended up being rather Halloween-y, I decided to have a little fun with this one: It's incomplete for this week, and the second half of the story will more or less be decided by a future prompt and completed then. Aaand hopefully I'll be able to do that with this or next week's prompt, in order to time up with Halloween ^^;

SPOILER: Click to show

“I blame you for this.”

Hanso winced at the distinctly unamused tone in Brynn’s voice as the Kougra folded her arms and focused a withering gaze on their surroundings.

While the accusatory words were clearly meant for him, he couldn’t quite say just what part of their situation the glare was meant for. It was kind of a toss-up between the fact that the entire artifact hunting team had managed to get itself captured by a pack of Werelupes, and the fact that one of said Werelupes had chosen to walk on all fours and carry her by the scruff of the neck like a mother Werhond transporting her pup.

Of course, if it was the latter, Hanso wasn’t sure what she was complaining to him about. Because Ixis apparently lacked suitable neck scruffs and Werelupes apparently preferred to carry their prisoners rather than let them walk, he had simply been tossed over his captor’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. At least looking back from his spot near the front of the pack gave him a good view of the others. To the left he could see Selene, the team’s historian and arcane muscle. The light faerie was currently in about the same position as he, with the addition of magic-nullifying handcuffs. And a little behind Brynn were the two Unis, Corin and Aurelia. They were the lucky ones who got to walk, as they were too heavy for even the massive Lupe-creatures to carry with ease.

Hanso turned his attention to the accusation at hand. “Hey, how was I supposed to know that we were in Werelupe territory?” he whined. “These guys were all disguised when I saw them!”

Brynn cocked an eyebrow. “It’s the Haunted Woods, Hanso. You know we need to be careful around strangers here. You should have let Selene check things out, not just gone barging in to ask for directions!”

The Werelupe carrying Hanso snorted. “What you all should have done was stay clear of our territory,” he grumbled.

Hanso rolled his eyes, but decided against informing his captor that his pack really needed a clearer way of marking off its territory.
Brynn managed to keep her voice even as she said, “We don’t mean to intrude, really. We’re on an important mission to hunt down and neutralize a dangerous magical artifact – one that’s as much of a danger to your pack as anyone else.”

The Werelupe simply grunted, just as he had the first time she’d tried to reason with him.

Hanso let out a huff. Aaaand the big angry beasties still aren’t going for diplomacy. Fun.

Aurelia eyed the path in front of them. “Do you mind at least telling us where we’re going?” the faerie Uni asked.

Corin, meanwhile, was busy warily eyeing the folds of flesh lodged firmly in the jaws of Brynn’s captor. “I’m actually more worried about the fact that the Captain seems to be in the process of contracting lycanthropy,” the brown Uni piped up. “You guys aren’t going to turn all of us and make us join your pack, are you?”

Hanso’s ears perked at the idea. “That might actually be kind of awesome,” he couldn’t help but blurt out. After a moment’s thought, he winced and added, “Uhh, without the forcing into the pack part, at least.”

The Werelupe gripping Aurelia’s reigns practically barked with laughter. “We aren’t biting to infect today, morsel,” she cackled. “Trust me; if we were, you’d have noticed by now.”

Corin seemed relieved for the moment, but then his worried look came back doubled over. “M-morsel?”

Aurelia rolled her eyes, unperturbed. “You all still haven’t answered my question,” she said.

“Don’t need to,” the Werelupe carrying Hanso replied. The Ixi blinked as he both saw and felt their pace begin to slow, and eventually stop. He craned his neck around to try and see ahead, only to meet the slightly turned and sharply grinning muzzle of the Lupe-creature.

“We’re here.”

Notes, because I feel like going on a headcanon ramble this week:

SPOILER: Click to show

I have way too much fun coming up with headcanon for Hanso, Brynn, and all the various people in their lives. It's probably because I enjoy writing for those two so much. Technically I'm supposed to be on a hiatus from writing about them because I want a little more variety in my Neo stories (ie. different main characters), but I couldn't help it this time around because that line just insisted on being said by Brynn ^^;

Anyway, back to the point of this note: the main thing here (besides the Werelupes) is my semi-introduction of the artefact hunting team. Anyone who's read TFR already knows about Brynn and Hanso, of course, but in my mind, their little magical artefact retrieval thing becomes more specialized and organized as time goes on. This includes the addition of new permanent members to the team (as opposed to, for example, Fyora hiring a pair of Unis for transport every time B&H have to go on a far-away mission). Corin and Aurelia are Hanso's and Brynn's Unis, respectively, and were added in about two years after the original team was formed. Selene, meanwhile, was actually working with them from the background to seek out possible artefact locations more or less from the start, and then joined the team a little after the Unis did because both her skill with magic and her understanding of ancient cultures and artefact hiding places prove immensely useful on the field. She isn't paired with a Uni because she's a pretty good distance flyer and doesn't really need one 

This is actually Corin's second real appearance in a story, as he was also featured in Unbreakable, but it's his first time being showcased as part of the artefact hunting team. (He joins the team a little after the events of Unbreakable, actually.) It's the first appearance of Selene and Aurelia, though, so it was fun getting to work with them... Or, at least it will be fun working with Selene when the next part of the story comes up and she actually gets to do something ^^; Corin and Aurelia are also both in the Faerieland cavalry, which is why Corin refers to Brynn as "Captain."

Also, werewolves are cool. I couldn't resist throwing Werelupes into this story  And technically, I think cats and dogs and the like are only supposed to be picked up by the scruff of the neck when they're young, but that image was just too funny in my head so I'm gonna just play the "fantasy species" card on that one if it's not quite accurate. On a more serious in-universe note, the Werelupe probably decided to carry Brynn that way because she would have had a harder time trying to smack him around and escape than if he'd just slung her over his back like the others. Girl's still got claws and teeth, after all.

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Thanks! Haha, they're rapidly becoming some of my favorite characters to write. I may actually end up writing their novel before the previous one, now. Except I haven't figured out as much plot stuff as I have for the previous one. Decisions, decisions... also I have other things I need to finish first. <_<

Sounds like fun! No worries about the ending, the goal is just to write whatever you can in a week's time. Nice idea using a future prompt to end it, though. Good luck!

Ooh, really nice work on yours! I love the way you write Brynn and Hanso, they seem very in-character. The other characters seem intriguing to read about, as well. And awesome job on the Werelupes--I'm actually writing an NT series with Werelupes in one part (which may not see the light of publication for a while, as it's very long and I haven't had much time to write lately), and I'm really looking forward to getting to write them. I've never done anything with them before, so hopefully I can do them justice.

I don't think there's anything wrong with having a core body of characters you like writing about. I mean, look at me with my silly orcs. xD I can definitely see Brynn saying that, too.

I really like the idea of their artefact-hunting team growing, and of adding in a Faerie who sounds like she may be a bit of a bookworm--squee! x3 I hope you have a lot of fun writing them!

Hehe, hey, the nice thing about Neopets is you can suspend disbelief as much as you want. Haha, smart Werelupe.

[Sporty]

...I should really get into continuing the conversation instead of just posting here once a week ._.; On that note, haha I can imagine those two would be fun to write! They're pretty interesting characters, especially when both of them are talking/doing stuff together

Thanks! I've had a lot of practice writing them, haha. I don't even know how many times I've read over parts or all of TFR just to make sure I've got their characters and backstories and whatnot straight too XD I'd like to work a little more on the OC girls to make sure I've got their characters fleshed out right though - hopefully the "end of the story" week will give me a chance to do some of that ^^ And... I'm actually seriously considering starting one of those askblogs on Tumblr for the artefact hunting team. Do you think anyone would be interested in something like that? o.o

Ooh yes, I think that's one of the main reasons I love writing/reading Fantasy. You get to play around and write your own rules about different species and places and magic and everything

[Sporty]

*pokes head in again* So, um, just wanted to give a heads-up ahead of time that I might have this week's story done a little late (...again OTL) I have a pretty good excuse though! My aunt and uncle just had a baby this morning and my mom and I have been watching two of their other kids all day (one's only just turned 2, so she still needs constant supervision), so I haven't been able to get away long enough to write ^^;

In the meantime, I don't know if/when I'll be able to post again tonight and I kind of feel like the following is mandatory as a prompt to be "due" on the Monday right before Halloween, so I'll just leave you with this, if it sounds like a good prompt to everyone:
This is Halloween
(You're welcome to either use the Nightmare Before Christmas song as your inspiration or to just write based off of the phrase, by the way )

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I like continued conversation. ^^ One of my hopes with this activity was to foster a continuing dialogue about writing between the participants. They are intensely fun to write, haha. I really enjoy exploring the dynamics between character duos--in the NT series I'm currently working on, my Zafara and my Grundo have some great interaction. It'll be interesting when I write this book to see how throwing Adele into the works will try Morh's and Iramick's friendship.

That's awesome that you've done your research so thoroughly! Very nice to see. Ooh, an askblog sounds like fun! I say go for it, it might see some good activity. ^^ I'd definitely contribute to it!

And don't worry about the lateness! A birth in the family is an excellent excuse. xD That's great of you to help out.

Awesome prompt! How festive. I actually have an awesomely fun idea for this based on the drawing I did for the Weekly Picture Challenge this week. Hehe, this should be super fun indeed.

So here's my submission for last week's prompt:

SPOILER: Click to show

You were the last of your kind, and I loved you.

After you were born, I remember pressing my gloved fingertips to the incubator, watching your tiny pink form writhe and cry. Your mother had died giving birth to you and your father had succumbed to illness a few months before, and I yearned to hold and comfort you, tiny sojourner in an unknown world.

But you looked out at me and wailed in fear, and I withdrew. I wore a shroud, a mask of blankness, so that I would not imprint myself upon you as someone you could be attached to. We had to release you back into the wild once you were grown, after all, once reports came back that there was a population you could be returned to. There were some days I prayed that would happen. But there were other days I was selfish and prayed I could keep you.

You longed for a mother’s love, and I could love you but I could not be a mother to you. Do you remember how I used to hold you in my insulated arms, carefully feeding you formula imbued with all of the vital developmental nutrients for your species? How you cried long into the night because you thought no one was there—but I was there, just in the other room, past the one-way-mirror, watching you and shedding a few tears, too?

Time passed too quickly, and you had to be behaviorally tutored in order to ensure proper integration into a wild population. Unfortunately, we had none other of your species with whom you could interact, so we resorted to using puppets. They were ghastly things, uncomfortable to look at and we all felt stupid squawking and babbling through them as we bobbed them around, but you took to them quickly. It surprised my colleagues, but I think you were just starving for a face.

Then the reports came. No, no, there were no more. The rumored population had been wiped out by the ravages of some petty war. And so you really were the last.

The debate raged about what to do with you, now that breeding was out of the question. We certainly couldn’t just set you loose, some said, not when we could still squeeze so much research out of you. But there was another camp – one which included myself – which argued that we ought to at least give you the dignity of living a comfortable life. Oh, how badly I wanted to simply spirit you away from the lab, especially on those days when you laughed and plastered your little fingers all over my ugly puppet, your blue eyes shining bright. Inside I was screaming for you to be able to feel a real face, even if it was my own which looked so drastically different from yours. But I was a professional. My opinions, my aspirations could only move within the bounds my job set for me.

In the end, we donated you to a zoo, a very reputable one that promised to take good care of you. For years I stayed away. It wasn’t just work keeping me busy, but I was afraid. And ashamed, yes. I should have taken you as my own when I had the chance. I didn’t know if I could bear to look at you. Perhaps it was also because I knew the years would rapidly change you from the chubby, pink thing whose company I so enjoyed.

Finally, after too many sleepless nights, I went to see you. I moved among the crowds as myself, this time. No masks were required here, not for spectators.

They had you in a nice, comfortable environment, full of lush foliage and plenty of items to keep you entertained. People were crowding around the great glass wall, gawking, and I sidled up to join them, although I remained impassive the way years of work had taught me.

You were taller and thinner and your golden hair had grown out, although they kept it well-groomed and free from tangles. You sat cross-legged on a tuft of grass, picking at the blades and pulling them apart absently while staring out at the zoo patrons with those eyes that were still a beautiful vivid blue.

Gradually, I worked my way to the front, and pressed my fingers to the glass, the way I had all those years ago. Our eyes locked. For a moment I entertained the faint and stupid hope that somehow you would recognize me, call out for me, reach for me. But it faded like a shadow when I realized you were looking at a stranger. You never knew me, in spite of everything I had given you, and now we were permanently severed. Your memories of warm bodies and happy voices would never be memories of me.

And you were so painfully alone now, without even artificial mockeries of your own kind to keep you company. The rest of the exhibit looked barren with only you in it. And you seemed to acknowledge this, your gaze empty, your movements slow and resigned.

I glanced over at the information placard. Homo sapiens, it read. This is the sole remaining member of this once plentiful species, driven to extinction by pollution, habitat destruction, and overhunting.

With tears in my eyes, I turned away. Finding a place to myself, I sat down and wept.

You were the last of your kind, and I loved you, and I had lost you.

So yeah, not really much to say about this one except I really wanted to use that twist at the end, haha. I'll leave it up to the reader's imagination as to just what the narrator might be.

[Sporty]

Character duos are fun And Adele seems like a pretty interesting addition to the crew regardless, I'm looking forward to the chance to see them all in action again ^_^

Haha, thanks! Now if I could just convince myself to do research like that for my original stories ._.; And oh, you think people would like it? Yay! (Umm, now to just learn how to draw characters consistently and with good expressions heheh)

Ooh, are you talking about that drawing with all the characters in costumes? Sounds like that's gonna be a fun story This week's was... very dark, and the narration was brilliant! It really set the mood. (I'm still working on mine at the moment)

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Hehe, thanks. I'm hoping this won't be one of those cases where a ton of short stories and pieces are written surrounding a novel that never really gets written. But on the flip side, it's nice to exercise these characters a bit so I'll be well-practiced in writing them when I do get to the novel.

Well, I guess the best advice for that would be to write what you love and love what you write. ^^ You clearly love the characters of Brynn and Hanso, so it's easy to do research for them. I hope you can find that same sort of passion for your original stories. And don't worry about drawing characters, so long as you have fun with it, it'll be good. x3

Yep, that's the one! I've written the first part of it already, it is supremely fun. And thanks! I think when I'm going through a rough patch, I tend to write either really depressing stuff that reflects my mood, or super happy cute fun stuff that makes me feel better. xD The one I'm working on this week is definitely in the latter category.

So how's yours coming?

[Sporty]

Yeah, I get what you mean - I've never really written a bunch of short stories surrounding a potential novel before (though that's starting to happen with PotW, haha), but I have had characters and settings and their whole preplanned story all ready and then just sort of gotten dissatisfied with the project and mostly-abandoned it. It's always kind of sad to go back and remember those characters, but then I figure that I could always go back and rework the story and world into something better later ^^

...You know, I think that's largely how I tend to work. This latest story (it's coming along pretty well by the way, I should have it ready either tonight or tomorrow morning) is based off of one of my original projects and it reminded me of how I came up with said project: there are a lot of aspects to the situation that I'm already familiar with (mostly relating to biology, which is my degree), so I don't need to do as much research in the first place And now that I keep thinking about it, I think I might start by not worrying too much about pictures after all... my favorite of the askblogs I've found didn't use many pics at first and seemed to do fine, so that's a good sign ^^

Haha, can't wait to see it then! Sounds like there will be many great Halloween-y shenanigans But you're going through a rough patch? Aww, hope it gets better soon then!

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Me either--it's interesting to see how things keep cropping up, especially Morh and Iramick as recurring characters. Morh himself, when I wrote the first prompt, wasn't even actually going to be one of the main protagonists of the novel, but I enjoyed writing him and Iramick so much that I went ahead and cemented him in that role. He fits it very interestingly because I characterized him as an orc who has an interest in human culture and a compassion for humans, something his fellow orcs don't really understand or often agree with.

I've had the same thing happen, really--it used to happen a lot when I was younger. I'd spend a long time creating a cast of characters, doing world development, and toying around with what I wanted to happen in the plot, but never actually get around to doing the project itself. (Of course, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that I envisioned most of them as comics, which are extremely time-consuming and daunting, especially when you have horrible art skills like my younger self did.) But yeah, it's nice to know that the material is still there. I still have characters and ideas that I'd like to rework at some point, either by doing a rehaul of the story itself, or inserting them into other projects.

Ooh, I see. Haha, it always helps to already know so much about what you're writing about that you don't need to do much research. xD And yeah, I don't think pictures are required for askblogs. Answer away!

Thanks! I went with my old comedic standby of inexplicably putting fantasy characters in mundane real-world circumstances. Although it should be doubly interesting because two of them are hulking mutants trying to pretend their natural appearance is part of their costumes.

Already I've gotten to write someone being very exuberant about carving a pumpkin. So that was great. I hope my friend doesn't mind my writing two of her characters, but considering our project has been ongoing for about two years now, I feel like I'm pretty familiar with their personalities. I'm still trying to decide whether or not to show her when I'm done--I'm not sure if she'd think it was too stupid. xD

And thanks. It's nothing really too bad, just some stress. But writing helps.