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Post by Thorn on Oct 9, 2018 18:14:00 GMT -5
OCtober day 9: Dinnertime
"This is so wonderful!" Dion clapped her hands together in excitement. "We're all having dinner together. A real, actual family dinner. How exciting!"
"We're not precisely family, are we?" Te Tai hissed, trying to work out how on earth he was supposed to deal with cutlery. Couldn't he just stick his face over the plate and eat like a normal taniwha? Would anyone care?
"We're all products of the same person's thoughts!"
There was an awkward silence. Somebody dropped a spoon. It clattered noisily to the floor as Dion looked from one creature to the next, confused.
"Yeah, but we don't talk about that," Kohimu said gently.
"Why not?"
"It's...uncomfortable to-"
"It's weird," Nyx cut in, flinging a napkin against the table. "It's weird and stupid. Last week I was, like, arguing with some ridiculous elfy thing. Today I'm having dinner with sea monsters and ghosts. I just wish this month would end already."
The ghost in question, Ezekiel Ward, blushed and looked down at his startlingly translucent hands. Te Tai's gaze snapped upward and he growled, drawing his lips back over those jagged teeth.
"Be nice, Nyx."
"You don't like this dumb dinner thing either!"
"Well, I like it more than I like you."
OCtober Day 10: DrinksAdded into the same post to avoid double-posting! Something of a sequel to the above, except this time using my d&d characters. Not as good as the above, but still fun to write. “So their dinner party was less than perfect,” Zazz admitted. “But we can be so much better than them! I think we can be civilised, have a nice time, and get to know each other a little better.”
He passed the Merlot to Ursh, noticed the red stain on his cuff, and bit back a curse. It wasn’t like it really mattered- Zazz wasn’t trying to impress anyone here, after all- but it was the principle of the thing! What would his parents think? What would Mr Rio and Mr River say? They’d probably be super nice about it, to be fair, but Mr C would no doubt taunt him. Another reason he was glad to be away for a little while.
“O-kay!” Celestial clapped her hands together. “That's a good idea, I know next to nothing about you weirdos. Fun fact time. Let us spice up introductions by sharing a fun fact about ourselves.”
“And our classes,” Honour added, glancing fiercely along the table’s length. “Honesty is so important, and you can’t be much more honest than that.”
“Sure, why not? Let’s get meta here. But leave ability scores out of it, no need to embarrass anyone.”
“Thank the gods,” Zazz and Ursh muttered in unison.
“I’ll go first,” Celestial cleared her throat. “Countess Lady Celestial Dragonbane. Yes, that is my full title. No, don’t ask. Champion fighter. I am fluent in three languages and know basic Draconic.”
“That’s not a fun fact!” Honour protested. “That’s boring. We’re all multilingual.”
“Your turn then, smart kid.”
“My name is Honour!” the teenager proclaimed, sweeping her golden fringe back from her forehead. “I’m a devotion paladin, and I wield the sword Blackrazor, because there is nothing more noble than wielding true darkness in the name of the Light.”
Nerin’s eyes narrowed. “Isn’t that the sword which leeches life from its victims?”
Honour glared back at her. “In service to the Light!”
“That still seems morally shaky to me.”
“I’m a paladin too,” It was a bit clunky, but at least Adrian managed to change the subject. “Adrian Cleaver. I’m a sorcerer/paladin multiclass. My mother is half-dragon and my father is an orc. I guess my fun fact is that my surname is actually derived from my father’s title? He’s Kaguk the Cleaver. He wants me to get a ‘cool title’ of my own and he’s always making embarrassing suggestions, but I love him anyway.”
He might have been blushing, it was hard to tell with all the scales. Ursh was definitely making eyes at Nerin across the table again, and Honour had retreated back into brooding behind that gloriously golden fringe. Only Celestial was looking at Zazz, but he smiled and gave a little wave and took his turn anyway.
“So my name is Izazdin Kilghym, but you can call me Zazz. I’m a wizard.”
“You’re not a wizard,” Nerin cut in. “I have a party member like you.”
He dropped his gaze. “Fine, yeah, I’m technically an arcane trickster rogue. But that’s basically a wizard, and I trained as one! And my fun fact is- oh! What a shame, I had a really great one but you seem to have distracted me, Nerin.”
“That’s fine,” she shrugged. “I don’t have a fun fact either. Nerin Andirgor, totem barbarian, poet by profession. So are we ordering now? Because entertaining as it is, I have far better things to do than sit here all night and listen to you guys ramble.”
“Do these better things involve me?” Ursh sounded hopeful.
“No. Should they? If you wanted help with some writing or whatever, I can make time.”
“...probably not then, never mind.”
Side Notes: -Ursh has a Type, and I realised while writing that Nerin perfectly fits it.
-In game, Zazz considers himself a wizard and Adrian considers himself a paladin.
-Honour did, indeed, end up with Blackrazor.
-Zazz has a -3 to Wisdom, while Ursh has -1 to both Charisma and Intelligence, hence their relief when they weren't asked to reveal their scores.
Did I learn anything about my characters today? Nothing that affects them in their actual universes, anyway. I guess I did learn about how they would perceive each other, which isn't super useful. They'd do better than my forum roleplay characters, mainly because of the absence of Nyx (as long as Nerin and Honour aren't left together for too long.)
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Post by Thorn on Oct 11, 2018 18:06:22 GMT -5
Double posting, yeah. But it's been two days! Day 11- Haircut(Nyx and Mike) “I’m going to get a haircut!” Nyx proclaimed. “A real, proper haircut to deal with this...this...garbage.”
Sinclair had really done a number on her beautiful locks. She combed a hand regretfully through the misshapen remnants, lingering at the horribly lacklustre tips, before snapping her fingers and turning back to Mike.
“Okay, Mikey, so how about an undercut? They’re in right now, very stylish, very cool. Not ultra mysterious though. Maybe I should go for short all over and just hide it under the hood?”
Nyx paused, gnawing at her lip.
“I could take this opportunity to finally dye it black. Or dark blue- always liked the sound of that, dark blue. Would go with black, or silver- and if I update my look to the dark blue/black combo we discussed, then all the better!”
She hesitated, turning her head side-to-side in front of the mirror, before hmphing in frustration and whirling away, producing her cellphone and glaring at the screen.
“Zenith would know. Why is it whenever I’m unsure about something, it’s something Zenith would know? I can’t exactly ask them about it. Unless I- ah!”
She froze. “Yes, of course! I could frame it as a letter from a fan, asking what colour combination Zenith thinks would be best for their rival- since they don’t want their rival making them look bad with substandard costuming, of course.. Perfect! They’ll never know!”
Of course they would. But if she didn’t admit it, neither would they. |
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 11, 2018 20:19:47 GMT -5
Yesterday and today I did very small bits of writing, so I decided I'd post both here today! OCtober Day 10: Drinks“So how’s life been?” Leo asked his old friend, leaning back on his chair.
“Not bad, not bad,” Al replied. He took another sip, grinning at Leo. “How’re things with your big internship?”
Leo thought back- to the craziness at the hospital, to the dome, to the spring festival, to the Day of a Thousand Cats, to the day he’d gotten a nice dose of *aliens are real and nearly everyone in town now remembers when they used to be one* and how it had been much easier to accept than he’d thought possible.
“It’s been a ride,” Leo said finally. “But a pretty great one. I’m glad I’m there.” OCtober Day 11: HaircutKindrin hadn’t been for his annual haircut in nearly two years, and he was beginning to notice it.
His procrastination came from the memory of his most recent haircut. It was then that he’d learned Lirfenn’s gift had an unforeseen side effect- and that his unfortunate barber was, apparently, allergic. He’d left the barber in embarrassment, after sweeping up most of the glitter his hair had left; some had been scattered by the barber’s sneezes. After that incident, he was fairly sure he was not welcome there anymore.
Still, Kindrin wasn’t quite planning on geting one elsewhere; he was starting to be fond of his longer hair. |
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 12, 2018 17:38:07 GMT -5
OCtober Day 12: Pets!Featuring my Pathfinder character, Asa, who miserably failed her INT check! Asa stood in her workshop, fiddling with her component pouch and mumbling to herself.
She'd felt the surge in her magic recently, felt the tingle of curiosity in her blood that she knew signaled a change of some kind. But the annoying thing about sorcery- or at least, Asa's particular sorcery- was that there was no instruction manual. When she learned a new spell she got a vague feeling about it, but not much more- it wanted to be cast, to be discovered rather than simply known. On such occasions Asa liked to take a few days to herself, or a weekend, to discover- and then practice- her new spell.
This time, it had something to do with conjuring.
At least, she thought it had. The actual feeling she had was of a wave carrying something smoothly to shore. But she already knew how to do that- had even employed it, fairly uselessly, against Bloodrosette- so she decided that the meaning was less literal. Besides, on their travels the Silver Ravens had picked up a book on summoning, and she'd been drawn to it. Perhaps it had been a sign.
So she stood in her workshop, fiddling with assorted spell components and hunting through the fog of her mind for words and gestures that were the right shape to carry her new spell. And then, as she imitated the shape of the wave with her arms, she felt the spell working- too late, realizing what had happened-and took a step quickly back.
An extremely large frog sat on her table, five feet across and the clear green of algae on a shipwreck. It looked around the room with its great golden eyes, then at Asa; it seemed curious.
"Hello there," Asa said, holding her hand out to the frog. The frog, mistaking her gesture, sent out its sticky tongue with a thwap that met Asa's hand. It looked at her, perplexed; there wasn't any food in there!
"You're enormous," she told the frog. "Sorry, I'm not for eating. Are you trying to say hello?"
That was all it needed. Lady clearly didn't have any food. Frog was going to find something on his own. With a massive hop, the frog bounced off Asa's table- narrowly missing the ceiling- and began to leap around her workshop. Several times he thought he saw something tasty- but every time he brought it to him it ended up being made of grass, or stone, or wood. He continued exploring her workshop, scattering supplies and demolishing shelves while Asa looked on in horror, calling to the frog to stop. Whether he heard her or not she didn't know; he certainly gave no indication. She had a feeling the noise drowned her out.
When the frog vanished, after what seemed to be ages but couldn't have been more than half a minute, she stared at the ruins of her workshop. Magical trinkets and ordinary art supplies were mixed and scattered all over the floor. A chair was broken and an entire set of shelves had been knocked off the wall because the frog had thought a driftwood ornament sitting on it was something he could eat. Her empty component pouch had somehow been tossed across the room.
And suddenly Asa began to laugh. What had she been thinking, practicing indoors? She was only glad Wooster hadn't been there. Still grinning and shaking her head, she began trying to reassemble her workshop. And as she worked on fixing the shelves and picking up jewelry supplies at the same time, it occurred to her that no matter how many spells she learned, she never tired of the sheer practicality of cantrips like Mage Hand.
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Post by Thorn on Oct 12, 2018 17:50:51 GMT -5
Day 12: Pet(d&d- Ursh and Floral.) It was a serene sort of evening. The rain pattered gently against Ursh’s back as they bent over the small shrine, humming a cheerful five-note tune. They spent several long moments settling a verdant wreath and arranging the berries and blooms. When they were done they sank back onto their knees, clasped their pendant in one hand, and gently traced the other over the etched lines of its partner in the rain-spattered stone.
“Floral, come here.”
A translucent weasel, wreathed in an eerie blue glow, trotted up to Ursh and pushed its big dog-like muzzle into their shoulder. They felt only a slight tingle, like cool mist passing over their flesh, but they removed the hand from their pendant and mimicked petting the creature regardless.
“Good weasel. Stay. We’re here to honour Garlin- the noble goddess to whom I owe my whole existence, and who brought you back from the dark realm of death. We will scatter seeds and recall memories of woodland in her name. We shall- Floral, stop that!”
The weasel was snuffling at the hand pressed against the stone. It licked their index finger and, again, this was just a cool tingle. The impression of a ring stood out clearly against the grey flesh. Floral hissed. Ursh stared.
“The ring? It’s in my pocket.”
Floral hissed again and placed both paws against their chest. It phased through, but the cold shock was enough to send Ursh recoiling from the shrine.
“Floral, down! What’s gotten into you?”
It made a strange anxious sound.
“The ring? We don’t even know what it does. Tsuki won’t tell me. I don't like it.”
Another hiss.
“I don’t speak weasel. Just let me finish this and I’ll put the stupid thing back on, okay?”
Ursh placed their hand back against the stone. Floral growled and thrust its face right up against theirs. Ursh easily held its gaze- Floral wasn’t intimidating in the least- but this behaviour was strange. Why were they so concerned about the silly ring?
“Look, fine,” they plunged a hand into their pocket. “See? I have the stupid ring. I am putting on the stupid ring. Now I’m wearing the stupid ring. You happy now?”
Floral’s jaws immediately snapped shut. It backed away, lay down beside the shrine, and closed its eyes.
“Okay, well, we’re good then?”
When they received no reply Ursh sighed, pressed their hand against the shrine, and picked up where they’d left off. Some Context: It's a ring of water-walking. Ursh drowned so once Tsuki, Andry and Kriv revived them, Tsuki put the ring on their finger and told them to never take it off. But she won't explain what it is. She's really weird about death, for somebody who has died twice herself and needed to resurrect two party members.
Floral is Ursh's pet weasel who is, yeah, a ghost.
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Post by Gelquie on Oct 13, 2018 21:44:23 GMT -5
Catching up! (Sorta. Not that I'm really following along; just too much going on in life. xD But there's some I wanted to do!) Drinks(Featuring: Wrighton characters) “Your victory was hard-fought, and you deserve every moment of this. But gather around for a moment and lemme tell you all. You all did a great job out there, today and all the past few weeks. You've really made me proud. And we're all going to celebrate, and let you rock the day out until you're all too exhausted to go home.
“But before we go, drinks are in the cooler. Have at it, aaaaand... good game everyone!”
Cheers filled the air as the team raised their arms and ran to the cooler, each kid reaching in and grabbing a juice pouch. Alexis was quick to grab hers, sticking her straw into the container and taking a long, much-needed drink.
“Hey Alexis,” said another kid, clapping Alexis on the back once the girl had swallowed. “Thanks for that save out there; it really helped me make the goal.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure! That was a good shot,” Alexis said with a smile.
“Uh, sorry about that making you fall, though,” the other kid said. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm? ...Oh, yeah, it's fine, it's just a scrape. I'll wash it when we get to the pizza place. ...Uh. If my mom doesn't see how bad it really is. I. Should prob'ly hide it from her.”
“Why? She won't get mad, will she?”
“Uh, no, she just... kinda... um... Well, you saw her when I fell; I had to quickly go to the coach and say I'm fine. It really looks worse than it is, but she...” Alexis shook her head. “It won't be bad, it'll just be easier, that's all.”
“Well, if you say so. You sure you're okay?”
“Yeah, promise. It doesn't hurt that much. Good job out there!” Alexis raised her drink to the air.
“You too! Cheers!”
The other kid raised their drink to meet hers, and while laughing, they clinked their juice containers together. Haircut(Featuring: Gordan Page from Hero City, some time before the game's events.) “Mr. Page?” called the barber.
Gordan Page complied quickly, slipping his phone back into his pocket before walking into the back of the barbershop with the woman. He didn't say much as the woman washed his hair, although it certainly wasn't for lack of the barber's trying.
“Is there any particular way that you want it?” the barber asked while she worked.
Gordan waited for a break in the noise of the hose before speaking. “Not particularly. Perhaps just something different from last time. Wouldn't want to be too stagnant.”
“Of course, Mr. Page! Did you have anything in mind?”
“No, just... something different.”
“Okay, well, I'll work with you on that. Has your previous haircut been giving you trouble?”
“N-no, just... something different.”
A beat.
“Okay then. Well, I'm almost done with your hair, and then we can talk about it when we get back to the chair, okay?”
“Alright then.”
Once the barber escorted Gordan to a barber's chair and got him situation, she began sifting through his hair. “Hmm, well, it looks to me like you'd look really good with a part like this-- see in the mirror? Very clean and professional. I can also shave that stubble off, if you'd like? I think you'd look really nice that way.”
Gordan took one glance in the mirror. “No,” he said too quickly before he caught himself. “I, uh. I'm. Fine with my stubble. And I'm. Not sure if that part would work. Maybe something else?”
“Are you sure, Mr. Page?”
“Yes, I'm sure. Just put the part in a different way. I'll give you liberties otherwise.”
“Uh... Okay, sir. If you're sure...”
The barber set to work.
“Trying something super different, huh? Are you having trouble getting someone's eye?” The barber winked.
Gordan paused, pondering how to answer. “...Not. Like that. Just I'm not. Satisfied with how I look in the mirror.”
“Ah, personal issues, I gotcha. I had that feeling a lot. It took me forever to find a hairstyle that was just right. No real fast way to do it besides to just try it.”
“Yes, of course,” Gordan conceded.
The barber paused in talking, waiting for Gordan to continue, but no words came. What ultimately happened was that the barber talked much about her own life and personal issues, with Gordan occasionally giving short answers, although it was clear that it was just to placate her. The barber went on regardless, however, with Gordan occasionally chiming in to comment on how the haircut was proceeding.
Finally, however, they came to a stopping point. “Alright Mr. Page, I think we're all set! How's that look. Want me to fix anything?”
Gordan stared in the mirror for some time, looking at the way his hair was cut and part, and staring for some time at the stubble on his face that he insisted that she not touch. But at length, he said, “No, that'll suffice. Thank you.”
“You're welcome, Mr. Page. I'm glad to help! Lemme take this off and I'll take you to the front...”
Gordan Page finished up and paid and walked out, making his way down the street of the small town he was passing through. He couldn't afford to have a haircut anywhere where he could've been known or where he ventured frequently; it was still too soon for that. But it was necessary, if he wanted to keep things the way they are. And also because his hair was getting longer than he wanted to deal with, but mostly the former.
He raised one hand to his chin, striking his finger across the stubble, and he couldn't help but grimace.
Maybe one day, he'll be incognito enough to not need it. Maybe one day, he'll be close enough to a plan that he'll finally be able to shave properly.
Until then, this was just gonna have to do. |
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 14, 2018 14:33:38 GMT -5
Yesterday’s prompt ended up turning into a sequel to a thing I haven’t posted here, and I didn't want to revive my story thread for it when I already have something else that needs to go in there. So inspired by a conversation I had the other day: OCtober Day 14: Instagram (or, Characters If They Had Social Media)
Argent
What they have: LinkedIn, about a dozen accounts on various forums, Twitter
What they post: LinkedIn is pretty much abandoned. There’s a profile that’s about five years out of date, but it’s still linked to from the library’s main page. Most of the forum accounts are abandoned too; they were created, one or two discussions participated in, and then never logged into again. He chats from time to time on a regional library forum, mostly discussions about different methods of organization. And he has like five accounts on the same conspiracy theory forum, which he uses interchangeably to try and remain anonymous. He also has an email, which he theoretically uses, but in practice it’s usually only when someone tells him “check your dang email”. Twitter he has no posts on and only uses to follow people.
Asa
What they have: Instagram, Facebook, Pinterest, Wordpress
What they post: Instagram is basically a catalogue of her work, and she counts “take a picture” as the final step on anything she makes. Facebook she has a personal account connected to a page for her shop. Her shop page updates infrequently, mostly to post advertisements for craft shows she’s going to be in. Her personal account has never had a post of its own, and pretty much just exists so the page has an admin. Pinterest is a lot of craft inspiration; she follows a ton of DIY boards and everything gets saved to one big ‘inspiration’ board, which she always thinks she’ll sort through later but never does. Occasionally aesthetic photos get tossed in there as well, just because she likes looking at them.
Her wordpress, by contrast, is pretty much a journal/nature blog, which she updates every month or so with long, pretty rambles about her life and places she’s been.
Atif
What they have: Facebook, LinkedIn, Instagram
What they post: LinkedIn he keeps updated fairly well, because the hospital does a lot of stuff through there. Facebook… not so much. He posts status updates and photos sporadically, and is friends with family, his bowling buddies, and those of his colleagues who’ve been friend-suggested. Most of his activity is other people tagging him in things (usually Mina), or him replying to other people’s posts. Instagram is also sporadic but has more photos than Facebook, largely family photos and nature pictures.
Cortica
What they have: Pinterest, Tumblr, Rualgane Academy Network, an account on a fencing enthusiasts’ forum
What they post: Pinterest is very much an aesthetic collection; she has boards for fashion, accessories, and a general 'neat contraptions’ board for pretty machines. She goes on Pinterest a lot. Tumblr is mostly smallish text posts, updates about her life or musings on random topics; she usually posts every few days, but sometimes goes a week without an update. Rualgane Academy Network is basically a combination forum and old!Facebook; every student and staff member has a profile, which is tied to different boards depending on your class/fields of study/school clubs. Cortica coordinates with other mechanics there, as well as occasional posts about homework and such. She goes in fits and starts with the fencing forum, being super active for a while and then being pretty quiet.
Jamil
What they have: Facebook, Instagram, a forum about alien sightings
What they post: A lot. Instagram is mostly travel photos, his version of a photo album. Definitely some selfies in there with gorgeous backgrounds. He writes nice captions for them, and sometimes turns them into little blog posts. Facebook he posts more day-to-day things- pictures of people he meets, family pictures, and RSVPs for events he’s planning to go to. He comments lots on things and makes a lot of status updates, and whenever a meme or something makes him laugh he saves it there. He has about a zillion friends. He made the account on the Alien Sightings forum fairly recently and makes up things to post on it, which he thinks is hilarious.
Mina
What they have: Pinterest, Facebook, Pillowfort
What they post: Mina’s on Pinterest a fair amount. She has a board for interior design/upholstery she likes, a fashion board, a board for flower arranging and general floral tips, a board that’s just her own floral work, and a photography board for beautiful pictures. On Facebook she uploads a lot of photos; sometimes she uploads ones Atif took, too, if he’s taking too long to put them on his own page. She follows a lot of local events and tags people in things she thinks they’d like, or things with them in it. She’s in a Pillowfort community about flowers and they trade tips on caring for various kinds and keeping them fresh for longer.
Minerva
What they have: Facebook, two LinkedIns, a regional library forum account
What they post: Facebook is pretty much dead. An old friend told her to add her on Facebook, so she made one and did so, but her friend was never on anyway and Minerva had no real interest in it. Her first LinkedIn reads 'retired’ and has things about her old school; her second one is probably not actually LinkedIn, but an equivalent, and is linked to from the main library page. It has an extensive resume on it, but all the references are “by request”. She mostly chats about administrative things on the library forum.
Shadow
What they have: Tumblr, Reddit
What they post: Shadow’s tumblr is kind of a mess of photos, sketches, and relatable reblogs. He has a second account that’s password protected for all his text posts; nobody has the password because he always feels too awkward to offer it to anyone. He doesn’t follow any Reddit communities outright, but he has several bookmarked, and comments pretty much at random. He likes talking about books, mostly.
Trie
What they have: Instagram, Facebook, Discord
What they post: Trie’s Facebook has nothing but her name and a bunch of deleted posts. Nothing’s been updated in about a year. She seems to have migrated over to Instagram; she has all kinds of photos there, mostly disguised in some way. She posts her convention pictures there, and some goofy pics of herself and her friends. Her profile picture is her wearing pink pointy sunglasses with a really cheesy grin on her face. On Discord she mostly just talks to her friends.
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Post by Thorn on Oct 14, 2018 17:57:04 GMT -5
13. Fantasy (Izazdin, ft. my friends' characters, River and C. Elf) A very silly one! You know how stuff makes sense in dreams, and then after you wake you lie there and think "wait, what?!" This is like that. River says everything Zazz wants to hear...all at once...in a manner which would make absolutely no sense if it wasn't dreamland. “Izazdin?”
His eyes fluttered open. River cradled him in his arms, those beautiful dark eyes disarmingly tender. The genasi's face was framed in soft blue light, limbs strong and warm, and as always he smelt of rain. Zazz burrowed his face into River’s neck and closed his eyes.
“I just killed a bunch of drow,” River was saying. “Your brother-in-law, your mother, your father, your oldest sister and both your grandmothers. Not that I know this, because I don’t know anything about your family, and I will never ask about them because I absolutely do not care. Also I definitely don’t know that you killed Tesenrys. I’m horribly sorry about what happened to Ilvar Kilgyhm, and will be sympathetic and do pretty much anything you want because I feel so, so awful. It must be terrible being a widower. But you can stop pretending she existed because, even though I feel so awful and terrible for you, I actually won't ask any questions about her.”
“Oh River, you’re just amazing.”
“You are the very best wizard I’ve ever met, I’m constantly in awe of your magical ability and also your beauty. I’m very handsome but you’re on another level entirely. Nobody else in this crew comes close. Also you are amazing with that shortbow, I understand and respect that drow typically favour crossbows and I think your unconventional and rebellious personality is super hot. We should get matching tattoos with inspirational quotes.”
“Oh River, you’re absolutely right. Now let’s make out.”
**
“Izazdin, wake up!”
His eyes fluttered open. “Mr River?”
“It’s me, C. Elf. Or Mr C, or whatever it is you call me. Get up here and stop being a useless nocturnal git, we have work to do.” 14. Instagram (Dion) Dion discovers Instagram! It's worth noting that Thorn herself has never had Insta, so apologies for any weirdness. Tagging Celestial for a mention of Fionn! <3 Dion squinted at her reflection in the phone screen. “Do I really look like that? I thought my hair was bouncier. I thought my eyes still had those sparkly little flecks of gold. When did I last shift? How long have I been like this? Why didn’t anybody tell me?”
“Because we didn’t notice, you look fine. Smile for the camera!”
“That’s a dog face! And tongue!”
“It sure is.”
She laughed. “Technology is so wonderful. Oh, yes, add the little sparkles. I like those! Is there an octopus?”
“I’m not sure, let me check.”
“Or, wait, no. A seal, we can show it to Fionn!”
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 15, 2018 22:13:34 GMT -5
OCtober Day 15: PridePride events in Halcyon Bay were always a big affair. The street was shut down for two days for the parade- it used to be just the one day, but people ended up camping out to get a good spot, and so they took an extra day for prep. In a city filled with people who were different, Pride struck a chord in more than just those who were LGBT. It was a celebration for them- it was a source of hope for others.
Trie was always there, of course- she made a point of going with her friends. She enjoyed the feeling of unity it brought, and- in the face of an archnemesis, the strength in numbers made her feel even more secure. It always amused her that her powers were pink and so was the lesbian flag, so when she marched she held her fingers in the shape of a heart, and filled it in with varying pink stripes. A small gesture, but it made her happy.
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Post by Gelquie on Oct 15, 2018 23:41:02 GMT -5
Another one featuring Alexis from Wrighton! ...It's not super happy; fair warning. (Also, implied SPOILERS for Alexis' arc. The implications are fairly strong.) Fantasy“Anything I want?” Erica asked in response to Dorothy's question.
“Anything!” Dorothy exclaimed. “Any fantasy creature at all!”
Alexis couldn't help but slow her movements as she heard this,
“I mean, I'd totally be a dragon if I could. I'd be powerful and be able to rule over everyone, I'd be able to fly, I'd get whatever treasure I want, and I'd sleep all the time!”
“You'd probably mostly sleep all the time,” Dorothy teased.
“But when I am awake,” watch out,” Erica winked. “You?”
Chimera, Alexis mouthed.
“Chimera,” Dorothy answered. “I'd get to be three different creatures at once, and have the best of each of them! Plus, I bet all those would help whoever I'm helping.”
“Sure, but you'd have two other heads to deal with,” Erica teased.
“Well, I was thinking I'd control all of them.”
“Yeah, probably not,” Erica said, shaking her head.
“I mean, maybe they'd get along eventually; they'd have to really work together,” Alexis said quietly, but not enough that the other girls didn't overhear.
Dorothy began: “Oh, hi Alex--”
“Oh, you think so?” Erica asked, tilting her head.
“I mean, yeah, there's a lion and a goat and a snake, right? So I mean, they'd have to eat different things, and really come together on that.” Alexis paused. “Um, right?”
“Oh? Do you know a lot about chimeras?” Erica asked, tilting her head.
“Well, uh, no, I was just thinking if--”
“Well, then what fantasy creature would you be, Alexis?”
Alexis had a sinking feeling that she was going to regret answering. She glanced at Dorothy, who just stood there, taking turns glancing between the two girls.
“Well, uh, Dorothy 'n I've kinda talked about it before...” Alexis started.
To this, Dorothy nodded. “Yeah, she said she'd be a mermaid.”
“A mermaid, huh?” Erica tilted her head again.
“Uh, yeah, I always said that, but I always figured if not that, then maybe it'd be cool to--”
“Y'know, I saw one last year,” Erica said off-handedly.
Alexis blinked. “You did? Really? Where?”
“Last summer, my family went to the ocean. I climbed up this mountain near the shore and got to see far out, and then I saw it out there. It was distant, but I looked through binoculars and there it was; human head and fish tail and all. I'm not sure why it was out there and all alone, but it was swimming towards some sort of cove really quickly. I think it was trying to get away from something; there may've been a shark out there. I never found out.”
There was a long silence. “Wow,” Alexis said. “Really? Are you sure it was a shark? Did you only see the fin? Oh, first, what'd they looked like?”
“They looked like...” Erica snerked. “A figment of your imagination! No, not really. Gosh, you are so gullible sometimes, Alexis.”
Erica broke out laughing, and nudged Dorothy. Dorothy laughed a little, keeping her gaze turned away from both Erica and Alexis. Alexis frowned, idly tapping her left loot lightly.
“C'mon Dorothy, let's go leave this airhead in the clouds of her fantasy-land.” Erica began walking away, holding her bag close.
Alexis gave a helpless look to Dorothy. Dorothy caught her eye, but only for a moment, clearly looking uncomfortable. But with what, Alexis never found out, as Dorothy quickly moved to follow Erica.
Alexis frowned and walked the other direction. She knew better than to get involved like that, with what her mom said and how kids usually acted about these things. Just this time she wasn't so careful. Especially with girls like her. Whom Alexis believed... Maybe she was particularly gullible. She should've known better with what she knew of Erica, and with how much she no longer knew of Dorothy. Not since the start of the year.
Alexis sighed as she opened her locker with a forlorn expression on her face. Middle school really did change everything. Post-story note:Sorry Alexis. You get a virtual hug from me.
(Also, don't pay too much attention to the names; I literally got them from a generator.) |
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 16, 2018 20:30:38 GMT -5
OCtober Day 16: Pranks(Spoilers for Wrighton in here too, for Atif!)
"Jamil, we've got to talk about your pranking habit."
Jamil grinned cheekily, more out of habit than anything. "I don't know what you're upset about, Ms. Kenning. I took the frog outside, just like you said!"
"Outside does not mean 'put it in Mr. Albert's car'. This is the third prank this month, Jamil, is everything okay?"
"The window was open! How d'you know he didn't just get in by himself?"
"Jamil."
"All right, all right. But it was funny, wasn't it?"
"That's not the point." She bit her lip. "It could've been dangerous. What if it had jumped into his eyes while he was driving?"
"But- I- It wouldn't-" He frowned. "I wasn't trying to hurt anyone!"
"Jokes aren't a bad thing, Jamil. But you need to learn to think about them first. If someone could get hurt, or their feelings could get hurt, it's not a good joke. It's just being mean."
Jamil thought about it. He certainly didn't want to be mean. But he was glad Ms. Kenning didn't seem to know that he was the one that let the frog inside in the first place.
~~~~
"I can't believe they managed that."
Jamil stood with what seemed to be the entire rest of his high school student body, staring up at where the school flag had once flown. In its place, now, was an entire line of underpants stretching from the ground to the top of the pole. People were snickering, or gasping, or taking photos. Jamil was just staring, grinning faintly.
"Hey, you sure that wasn't you, Khouri?" A tall, skinny boy elbowed Jamil with a sly grin. "Trying to get back your glory days?"
"Been in econ all morning, Joe, you were there." He chuckled. "I'm pretty much done with the pranks these days. Whoever did, though, I'm impressed."
The crowd scattered a bit as Principal Green walked up, stared at the flagpole, and shook his head. "Not again."
~~~~
It was his second date, and Jamil was a bundle of nerves.
Renaia was amazing- Jamil was excited she'd agreed to go out with him again, and somehow she seemed just as excited- but he was afraid something would happen to spoil it, that she'd laugh at him and walk away.
"So do you have a big family?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.
"An older brother," he told her. "You? How're you liking it in Walburg?"
"Three sisters. It's a beautiful city! I'm glad I decided to come for the summer. Have you lived here all your life?"
"Born and raised," he confirmed. "You're from Wrighton, right? Is it nice?"
"I love it," Renaia smiled. "You should visit sometime. It's gorgeous in the fall."
"I should," Jamil agreed. "Uh- I bet at least they don't spray-paint butts on their billboards." Internally he cringed. Why did I bring that up? I panicked! What was I thinking?
Renaia giggled. "Someone did what? Where?"
Jamil grinned sheepishly. "Last year. There was an ad for a farmer's market, and the board had a big peach on it, and..."
Renaia laughed- a bright, deep laugh. It made Jamil smile too. "My sister used to try and hide the blackboard erasers from the teachers."
"I bet she wasn't quite as bad as I was when I was in elementary school..."
"Oh? I think I want to hear about this..."
~~~~
Jamil was lost.
Ever since he'd moved, life had seemed determined to throw the strangest curveballs at him. First, something had happened to little Atif- something that he hadn't really known what to do about. Then he'd lost Naia, and he was still reeling from that, five years later. And now her parents were determined to protect their grandson, and he hadn't paid them much mind until a year ago, when he'd said something without thinking and found himself wearing hard plastic as a coat, and it occurred to him that maybe they were right to be so overprotective. But now Atif was growing, and he was quiet and nervous and Jamil couldn't remember the last time he'd heard the boy laugh. And Jamil didn't know what to do- he wanted to be a good father, and he saw something of himself deep inside his son, wrapped in layers of caution. But he didn't know what the right thing to do was.
But he knew what he would have wanted, if it had been him.
Which was why he went into the basement and retrieved the biggest pieces of his former work coat, and set them over his shirt while he sat. And why, when Atif came in from outside and asked what he was doing, Jamil answered, "I'm measuring. I wanted to see if I've gained any weight since last year. Do you think this still fits?"
And when his bewildered son's face broke into a grin, and then began to laugh, Jamil felt his heart warm. And deep inside, his inner child beamed.
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Post by Thorn on Oct 17, 2018 13:33:31 GMT -5
OCtober Day 17: BeachDion rambles. I wasn't in the mood to write anything coherent, so it works!
“I don’t usually see it like this,” Dion explained, watching the sand sift through her fingers. “Never before with friends who want to lie in the sun and build sandcastles and dodge waves and do all these fun things!”
She squinted at the horizon, shielding her eyes. “It sparkles. My real eyes, they’re not as strong. I hear much better than humans do, but my vision is...dark. The water doesn’t sparkle and dance, it just blinds us, so we stay in the depths in our true forms. And even as a seal, or a porpoise or a gull, I don’t see all these wonderful bright beautiful colours! Going here as a human is something special, something to be treasured. One day, I will be too weak, and shifting will be difficult. I won’t be able to do this so very often. I will miss it, but I will dearly treasure the memories.”
Dion spun away to face her companion. “Right! Let’s jump some more waves! I want the sand to stick to my feet and the crackly salt-lines across my legs.”
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Post by ♥ Azzie on Oct 17, 2018 22:29:44 GMT -5
OCtober Day 17: BeachThis was supposed to be lots longer, but Life got in the way and now I'm very tired. I may try and continue it sometime though! As Cortica slowly approached the beach, she noticed the two other people already there. A short girl with black hair and sunglasses was building a sandcastle, and an even shorter man with brightly-coloured hair and a beard, lounging on a chair. She smoothed out her knee-length, old-time swimsuit and headed out onto the sand.
"You're here!" Cortica jumped. The source of the voice was a head sticking out of the water, belonging to a woman Cortica hadn't noticed before. "I think that's everyone!" And she launched herself out of the water.
"Oh, hi! Cortica, is it? I'm Trie." The teenager making the sandcastle waved. "I like your suit!"
"Thanks." Cortica waved back. "What are we all doing here again?"
"Vacation," answered the woman who'd been in the water, drawing water droplets out of her hair without touching it. "Azzie thought we all could use a break. Name's Asa, by the way."
"Ah, is everyone here?" The dozing man yawned, sitting up. "Kindrin Mossfeld, at your service.
"Nice to meet you all," Cortica nodded before motioning to the basket she held. "I brought sandwiches."
"Awesome!" Trie took off her sunglasses. "And I mean, she's not wrong."
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Post by Thorn on Oct 18, 2018 15:54:46 GMT -5
18. SleepLaurel Fenwise is a character I'm still working out- one of many d&d concepts just waiting for an adventure. The other day I was thinking about how he's the kind of person who would approach the shady figure in the corner and try to cheer them up (rather than just ignore them, or keep an eye on them to see what wickedness they may be up to.) And thus, this was born! Laurel is over 800 years old, he doesn't scare easily and he figures it makes the world a whole lot easier if you just be nice! This isn't a super great piece but hey, it helped me sort out some ideas! For example, I'd never before considered what effects repeated casting of somatic spells might have. It was well past midnight. The fire had died down to embers at their inn of choice. Laurel couldn’t recall the name- the name didn’t matter, the group had fallen into pretty much the first inn they came across. What did matter were that group, and his ability to protect them from danger. But he’d let his party come to harm, been battered very nearly to the ground himself, and now they were all paying for it. Laurel’s whole body ached, his hands numb from casting, and he was going to sit here half the night, worried out of his mind, thinking about could-haves and would-haves and what-ifs. Not that it would make any difference, but his brain didn’t care about that. It wouldn’t let him sleep, and the others were too badly hurt or downright exhausted to sit watch. Thus, it was up to Laurel. Exhausted and sore he might be, but it was up to him to ensure nothing took advantage of their weakened state before morn.
Only one other remained in the common room- probably human, although it was hard to tell in this light. From across the room, Laurel could feel their gaze watching him from between scarf and shaggy fringe. Since a vigil is always more pleasant with company, Laurel got up and slid across the room and sat down opposite.
“Hi,” he said, guessing Common. “Can’t sleep either?”
“Who are you?” the stranger spoke quietly, but with a sharp edge implying weary wariness. They were dressed in furs in spite of the relative warmth, but with no jewelry or other adornments. Narrow green eyes challenged Laurel to reply, and so he did just that.
“Laurel Fenwise,” he held out a hand- this stranger was clearly human, and this gesture common among their kind. “Right now, my pronouns are he/him. I’m a wandering healer. I don’t mean any harm, just thought you might like some company.”
After a moment, the stranger took his hand and shook it. “Taruthos. Also he/him.”
“Nice to meet you, Taruthos,” he sank back against the bench. “That’s a wood elven name, right?”
“My mother was a wood elf.”
Laurel could see it now- the sharpness to his gaze, the delicate tips of his ears.
“So was mine!” he cheerfully interjected. “My father was a high elf, and physically I take after him, but my mother was a bigger influence on my life. She was a healer as well, and one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met.”
There was a pause. Taruthos seemed to be sizing him up. Laurel calmly held his gaze. He was old enough, after all, to be able to stand a little scrutiny. Nobody got to their eighth century and beyond by being delicate. It would take a lot more than a scruffy, suspicious mercenary-type to unsettle him.
“You’re right, I can’t sleep,” the stranger finally conceded. “Too much has happened. You too?”
Laurel nodded solemnly. “Yeah. People getting hurt, me wondering how I could have prevented it. Fun stuff.”
“Family? Friends?”
“Just people,” Laurel shrugged. “I wouldn’t say we’re friends. Not yet, anyway. What about you? What’s keeping you up?”
Taruthos glanced away. “People too, I guess.”
“People getting hurt?” Laurel encouraged, careful to keep his tone gentle.
“People wanting to hurt me,” he sighed and nudged his empty tankard. “You seem a good sort, Laurel. But I don’t trust you. We just met. And I don’t know who still wants me dead.”
“That’s fair. I wasn’t expecting you to trust me after just a few minutes,”
They sat in silence for a while after that- Laurel toying with his crystals, Taruthos staring at a stain on the wood. People shouted and laughed in the street outside. Somewhere nearby, two or more cats were fighting. Three, it definitely sounded like three. Two of them ganging up on another, perhaps? One of the cats had just taken off shrieking into the night when Taruthos stirred, concealing a yawn with a gloved hand.
“Don’t you have a room?” Laurel asked.
Taruthos blinked up at him. “You can have it if you want. Second on the right, past the doorway.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Laurel stood. “I’ll walk you there. Not to be rude, but you look terrible, and you need something more comfortable than a grimy old bench. I’ll be up all night anyway, I’ll keep watch.”
Taruthos’ expression sharpened. “Not to be rude, but I don’t think I’ll be sleeping much either way.”
“Technically I haven’t ‘slept’ in four years, but you’d be surprised by the difference a real bed makes, as opposed to a flimsy bedroll set out in the woods- or, you know, a wooden bench. For one, you don't wake up with a stiff neck and a sore back. Besides, human beds are just plain brilliant- by far my favourite human invention. I’ll be right outside. You have my word..”
He stood, patting the fringes of his robe for emphasis, his holy symbol glittering in the light from outside. Taruthos stood, sighed with way too much drama, and made towards the doorway.
“Okay fine, Laurel. Let’s go. You’re probably right, and- thank-you.”
Laurel tucked his crystals back under his robe. Taruthos was young enough that he saw danger around every corner, but this also meant he was young enough to respond to expressions of kindness like a frightened child. Especially when the one offering said compassion was old enough to be his mother. Twentysomethings were such predictable things.
“It’s no problem at all. I hope you manage to get some sleep on this trying night.” D&D related context: Laurel Fenwise- high-elf, Life domain cleric of Corellan. =) Most likely being used when my friend runs Dragon Heist, if I don't decide I like one of my other backups more before then.
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Post by PFA on Oct 18, 2018 21:47:19 GMT -5
Whoa I did one!! Spoilers for my comic. There might be feels. Day 18: SleepSanry was so tired.
"It's getting rather late," he suggested, gesturing to the night sky. "Perhaps we'd best get to sleep soon?"
"Yeah, yeah," was Erron's response, wholly focussed on wiping some blood off of his mace with a damp cloth. "I just want to get this clean so it doesn't rust."
"Right, of course." Sanry kept a polite smile on his face, but cursed inwardly. For someone who didn't seem overly concerned with personal hygiene, Erron certainly took his sweet time cleaning his weapons.
"I mean, you can go to sleep yourself if you're tired," Erron told him.
"No, I... I can't sleep with the fire going," Sanry insisted. It was a lie—after the hard day they'd had, he could have collapsed on the spot. But, he'd told himself that he could never go to sleep before Erron did. Because if he did...
"If you're sure." Erron shrugged. "I'll only be a minute."
Sanry shifted in his seat, struggling to keep his eyes open as he waited for Erron to finish. You're a fool for doing this, he berated himself inwardly. It's not as though it'll happen as soon as you fall asleep. Maybe it won't happen at all...
But he couldn't. He couldn't take the chance.
"Alright, I think that'll do it," Erron finally said, examining his newly cleaned mace for a moment before standing. "I'm off to bed."
Sanry resisted the urge to let out a sigh of relief, instead smiling and nodding. "Alright. I'll put out the fire."
He got to his feet, gathering some dirt to put on the fire. As he did so, he kept a careful eye on Erron, watching as the other man peeled off his armor and climbed into his bedspread. It was a small mercy, Sanry decided, that Erron was usually quick to fall asleep—by the time the fire was out and Sanry walked over, Erron was wholly unconscious.
Finally, Sanry climbed into his own bedspread, letting his exhaustion take hold and carry him to what he could only hope was blissful slumber.
---
Some time later, Sanry jolted awake.
Of course he wasn't granted the luxury of peaceful sleep. When was he ever? He had to have another accursed nightmare, that shameful memory still haunting him to this day. Why did this keep happening? Why couldn't he just move on?
But he knew exactly why. It was because he was a failure. He could never get back what he had lost, and now he had to suffer the consequences.
The sound of Erron stirring in his sleep startled him out of his thoughts. Glancing up at the sky, he could see that the sun was rising. Sanry was still tired, but it was only a matter of time before Erron would wake up. He wasn't sure how outwardly visible his nightmares were, but he didn't want to take any chances. He didn't want Erron to know about them. He didn't want anyone to know about them.
So, he got up. |
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