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Post by Gelquie on Sept 4, 2020 17:02:35 GMT -5
Weekly Writing Prompts Week 3!One is not ready to be posted, another was posted on the thread due to it not being related to anything. The third one relates to Amani (well, Am) and may as well be here! MummyVerse: Euroatlantis“Woaaaaah”
“Ewww, gross!”
“So cool!”
“Lael, what?”
The teacher waited very patiently for a good 10 seconds before tapping her pointer on the desk. “Alright, are we done?”
The class went silent.
“Good. Now, this is a mummy,” the teacher pointed their pointer at the large parchment at the front, showing a ghastly illustration of a mummy. “Only able to be created by necromantic magics, should you ever be unfortunate enough to find yourself on the wrong side of a necromancer or their arts. At their base, they are animated corpses, but there is more power granted to them. They aren’t harmed by much, and there are many magics that are ineffective against mummies. What you truly need to watch out for is their touch, for you could be affected by a condition called Mummy Rot. It will weaken you over time, and if you don’t get this curse removed--”
As the teacher went on about another creature to watch out for that most of the class would likely never encounter, a young blue-haired half-elf—disgusted at the sight of the mummy—was focused on their paper, at first taking notes but eventually just messing with how fancy they could make their “m”s. At some point as the teacher and the young half-elf were going on, someone behind the young half-elf slipped them a note.
Oh great, Faen, the young half-elf thought, but opened the note anyway.
Bet that’s your Mummy in a few centuries
The half-elf immediately crumpled the paper, turned around, and threw it at Faen’s face.
“OW! My eye!”
“Am!” the teacher scolded.
The whole class turned to look, and Am realized their position.
“They insulted my mum,” Am explained, pointing at the crumpled note.
“Then you tell me. Give me that note, Faen,” the teacher said.
“What note?” Faen sniffed, cradling their eye with one hand while they conjured a fire in their other hand that burned the paper to a crisp.
“No fire spells indoors!” The teacher insisted. The teacher put a hand to their face and slowly ran it down. “Both of you report to the headmaster at once.”
Both Am and Faen groaned.
“And Bryn, go with them and make sure they both get there. Tell them what happened.”
Bryn nodded at the teacher, then turned to Am and Faen and gave a stiff headtilt advising the two of them to follow her. Reluctantly, the two of them did.
As soon as they were outside, Am whispered darkly to Faen. “That’s what you get. Don’t ever insult my mum again.”
“It was just a joke, sheesh,” Faen explained superficially and a touch sarcastically, “I mean really, she probably will look-”
“I mean it,” Am whirled on Faen, but Byrn put forcefully a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Both of you shut up already, I’m already missing a cool lesson because of you. Now go.”
Bryn practically pushed the two down the hall, giving them both a look as if daring them to try inconveniencing her again.
Faen already looked like he was preparing some words that would surely get him out of trouble, while Amani just stared at the floor. They were really gonna hear it from their parents, they were sure.
But maybe if they knew why it happened, they’d understand.
They hoped. They were already getting into trouble for different reasons. They didn’t need this. But their mum had been nothing but kind; she didn’t need that either.
Maybe it was worth it this time.
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Post by Gelquie on Sept 15, 2020 17:26:58 GMT -5
Uhh, so! Remember this post, where I posted my results for a series of Tumblr prompts? And how one was "this was a mistake, trembling hands," and I instead wrote this cute story about half elf siblings? ....Uh, surprise. That was actually my backup one, plus a challenge to make something not-sad from that prompt. The first one I wrote for that prompt was too spoiler to share at the time. But as of Euroatlantis Session 41, that secret is out. And so I can now share that fic. (And probably several others too, once I've finished brushing those up and confirming some things.) I did make some edits today, but mostly to tweak either a few wording flubs, a confusing sentence, or to fix some timeline stuff. It's otherwise mostly untouched. LostVerse: Euroatlantis((SPOILERS for Euroatlantis Session 41)) Tired, with their muscles aching, Amani sat themselves on a log, not feeling the energy to even set up a campsite for themself. It'd be a waste anyway; at best, they'd set out their bedroll, at worst, they'd probably just fall asleep in the leaves out of exhaustion. If they wouldn't bother doing anything else, what was the point?
...What was the point of this entire trip? They vaguely remembered. But they realized that their very goal had been vague. "Go out and prove yourself?" In what way? They had nothing going for them. Nothing else drew their attention, nothing that was worthwhile. And all they had accomplished these past few months was endless walking, homesickness, and a longing for... something. Did other elves just know how they were supposed to prove themselves? Was that an elf thing Amani lacked?
"What am I doing?" Amani wondered. "I should've found something by now. Anything! Why isn't there anything for me?! Is this... just how my life is meant to be?"
Those words stuck hard to Amani's brain, repeating itself, gradually digging deeper down a well familiar burrow. This had become a habitual path lately, yet it still stung anew. At least before, they'd tricked themselves into thinking that they had a chance at anything else, that they just needed one more try. Maybe they hoped that just doing anything would spark something new for them, something better than where they had been. But there was never a point. If there was, they would've gotten a hint by now. Perhaps they were just useless. Perhaps that was always how it would be. Except they had already promised to prove themselves. They knew they couldn't show their face until they could. Their mother offered, but Amani could already foresee the disappointment on her face if they did.
Amani's breathing hitched, their hands trembling as they tried to calm themself. They had no prospects, no home, no hope. All the things in the world, and they couldn't even get this right. At least before, they had a place to be, and wasn't just wandering aimlessly waiting for wolves to eat them or bandits to mug them for what little they had.
"This was a mistake," Amani thought miserably. "There was never anything for me. I should never have convinced myself there was. I'm so stupid, I'm just so, so... stupid."
Their breath felt heavy with the weight of their misery as the last word slipped out of their mouth, unaided by the chilly spring air, giving the closest they could get to an external confirmation. They knew what was coming, and tried to wipe the tears that had begun to run down their face. But there was no stopping them. They put their face into their hands and let their sobs break the peace of night. |
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Post by Gelquie on Sept 18, 2020 15:01:27 GMT -5
Weekly Writing Prompts Week 5For the prompt Something Borrowed. A Simpler Gift(Verse: Euroatlantis) “Agh, dangit,” Amani muttered, fumbling again with their belt buckle. Said belt, which was already finicky to use and was degrading over time, now was absolutely refusing to latch together. Better now in one of the Evertemple conclaves than out in the woods, at least. But while there was no emergency, Amani did want to get dinner soon. And instead they had been messing with this buckle for a good 10 minutes, not to speak of all the times before.
“Hey, you’d better hurry,” said a middle-aged elven stranger who’d just walked inside. “They’re already running low on curry, and you look like you could use it.”
Amani sighed. “Yeah, hang on. I’m trying to get this together.” They pondered for a moment, whether they could just go without their belt this time. It wasn’t like they were naked underneath their robe. But they’d always felt incomplete without one, or wary of their robes flapping open any moment.
The elf tilted their head, thinking. “...Hmm. You’re not picky, are you?”
“What do you mean?” Amani asked.
“I mean. You look like you shouldn’t miss it. So if you’re not too picky, I have something you can borrow in the meantime. I’ll warn you though, it’s nothing special.”
Amani pondered. Was it worth taking something from a stranger, when they already felt uncertain if they deserved the generosity of the Evertemple? Before Amani could think on this further, they turned around to see the elf had grabbed a… rope? From out of their bag. Nothing special indeed.
The elf could read their expression. “I know. But you’ve just come from traveling and look like you could do better things than mess with a bad belt. And trust me, no one’s looking special in there.”
Amani considered. The elf… was probably right. It’s not like they were there making waves anyway. Wouldn’t that be nice. For now, they supposed curry was better.
They held out their hands, and the elf handed over the rope. “Thanks,” Amani said. “Your bag’s over there, right? I’ll leave it there when I come back.”
They were tying the rope around their waist as they said that, and as they tugged on it to adjust for size, they were surprised how easy it was to manage. The elf looked them over.
“You actually don’t look half bad. Probably not runway ready, but you’re traveling around, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Just… just around.” Amani said simply, hoping they wouldn’t be asked to elaborate.
The elf didn’t skip a beat. “Tell you what, if you can’t get that belt to work again, or if you can’t find anything better, why don’t you keep it? It was a spare anyway.”
Amani blinked. “But… I don’t want to take your spare.”
“Nah, it’s alright, I know where to get more. If you really want to make up for it, pay it forward and do some work for tomorrow’s dinner. But seriously, go eat. Everqueen help you get there in time.”
The elf practically pushed Amani out the door, and Amani could barely stammer a thank you and a blessing back before they were on their way to the dining hall. As they walked, they caught their reflection in a nearby window, and took a moment to look themself over.
...The elf was right. It wasn’t bad.
And to be honest, it was better than their old belt anyway.
Amani made a note to try to make it up to the elf as they went to dinner.
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Post by Gelquie on Oct 2, 2021 19:09:38 GMT -5
After the last Euroatlantis D&D session (Session 63), I wrote this, though I only wrote the last part today. Time for sads! Failed(Verse: Euroatlantis) “Thank you for coming, Am,” the headmaster said.
Am said nothing; they were busy taking in the room. Their parents had been called in this time, along with their current teachers. Am had seldom been called in for anything good or supportive. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or just how many were called, but there was a particular tension in the air this time.
“Is this about my grades?” Am asked dully, almost hopefully.
“In part. It’s more-”
“Is it what’s going on with me and Faen and others like them?”
“That’s only-”
“It wasn’t my-!”
“Am!” The headmaster didn’t shout, but they did emphasize their word, their tone cutting through any rant Am was about to give. Am only leaned back, receiving a shoulder squeeze from Naila. Am looked to their Ren, to find their eyes closed and arms folded.
“Now,” the headmaster continued. “Yes, it’s true, your grades are poor. The problem is, they’ve been poor for ages. And your classes are only getting harder. You do your best in the areas you’re strong in; you have good grasp of arcana and magical history. I bet your family’s influence has helped you with that, as well as the work you do put in. And it’s helped you in many facets.”
But... Am mouthed.
“But,” the headmaster confirmed, “that’s not enough for what we require here. You’ve only learned to cast the one cantrip, your phenomes are off, your gestures and arcana don’t match up, and you have more unexcused absences than not. We’ve tried to foster your abilities that we were sure you’ve had” (”tried” Am muttered) “but we’re not convinced that there’s much there.”
“Further,” the teacher sighed. “I know it’s not all your fault. But you’ve been out of line with your classmates, and it’s only growing more frequent.”
“Maybe I wouldn’t be if they weren’t bullying me like they do,” Am said through gritted teeth.
“I’m not saying they’re all in the right, and they will be disciplined for that separately. On the other hand, you do spur them on further when you lash back as you do. It doesn’t help any matters, and looks poorly on you.”
Am stewed. They had to shoot back with a well, it’s not their fault you’re upset!, didn’t they? Couldn’t those kids just not get onto them for things they can’t help?? Are they just casually overlooking that Am doesn’t do this who kids who don’t get onto them??
“The point being,” the headmaster said pointedly, as if to cut off a reaction. “Is that you’re not fitting into this school.” They pressed their fingers to their forehead. “Your grades are poor. You’ve been skipping more school days than not. And we’re not convinced you have the magical talent capable of continuing.”
Am stared. Could it…?
“Because of this-”
“A-are you sending me back a level again?” Am asked. A note in their voice was once more almost hopeful. Not that it’d be good, it’d be utterly embarrassing for them and their family. But they were struggling with this level; it was why they’d skipped so much. Maybe if they went back to-
“No,” the headmaster cut through their thoughts as they stood. “Am, I’m sorry. We can’t keep you-”
Am stood up, panicking. “No, please! You can send me back a level! Two levels! Remedial! It’d get me away from those kids too! I know I’m not doing well, I know I’m flaking, but I want to be good at it! I really do!”
The teacher looked up. “We know,” she said with a note of bare sympathy. “But we’ve done what we can. You just…”
“You just don’t have the talent and capabilities necessary for becoming a wizard.” The headmaster folded their hands. “I’m sorry, Am, but you are expelled from this Institute.”
There was a heavy silence. Am could only stare ahead, not looking at their parents, barely even feeling the squeeze from Naila on their shoulder. The moment hung heavy, as if time had stopped. Then the tears distorted their vision.
“Fine! I was gonna quit anyway! As if you would ever help me anyway! As if you could! So forget it! At least by quitting I’ll save you some paperwork!”
They pulled themself out of their mother’s grasp and rushed to the door.
“We’re very sorry it had to be-”
“Save it!” Am slammed the door behind them.
They vaguely recalled running down the steps of the tower, running out of the Institute heedless of whoever saw them, whoever called to them. They vaguely ran through the town. Somehow, they don’t remember how, they ended up sitting on a rock in an isolated garden, one where they were sure no one was around. And they just cried. There wasn’t much else they could do. There was nothing else to do. Their life was over. Their future was over. They were a shame to their family. They could never do anything like this; how could they have ever tricked themself otherwise? They were a failure; nothing more, nothing less.
Some time passed. They don’t know when it happened. But someone came to join them. Am moved to stand up, but the newcomer was steadfast. All Am could tell from the weight of the hand was that it wasn’t their mother’s grasp.
“Am, may I have a moment?” came the lilting voice of their Ren.
Am was surprised to not feel their heart sink at the sound of it; maybe they were already rock bottom. “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Ren, I’m sorry I’m not good enough, I’m sorry I shouted like that, I’m sorry I made you look like that to them, I’m sorry I did that to your reputation, I’m sorry I didn’t do better-”
Their Ren, Archmage Asariel, gave them a hug. For a moment, they said nothing, and Am only continued to cry in their grasp.
“Don’t worry about my reputation, okay Am? It will be fine.” they said softly; Am didn’t quite know how to read their tone. “I’m just sorry I couldn’t help more.”
Am just sat in silence for a while, attempting to take this in. That their Ren came after them… they knew someone would, but they didn’t expect who.
“Where’s mom?” Am asked.
“She’s still with the school. She wanted to talk to them about how they talked to you, and she wants to get Isra afterwards. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here; I had my own input I had to make, given my...” they trailed off, deciding it was best not to bring up their position.
“I don’t know why. I know I was out of line...”
“Your mother… has a better touch talking to you than perhaps they or I do. She knows how to… connect to others better. She thought maybe they could see. I’m sorry it’s delaying her.” They drew back and squeezed Am’s shoulder. “I agree they were harsh. Maybe remedial education would help you. Or perhaps your magical potential is not in the arcane. Or maybe their methods don’t work with yours. Maybe… we can find some other way.”
Am stared down, not wanting to look at their Ren. Maybe if they were in a better mood, that would’ve given them hope. As it was now, they weren’t sure they had much potential in anything. It wasn’t like it just had to do with magic. They knew that sometimes, they were their own worst enemy.
“Understand, Am, that your mother and I still love you, and we always will. And if we need to do something to help you, we’ll do it. So please… remember that.”
Well, good, their Ren didn’t absolutely hate them. Am supposed they had that going for them. There was a brief silence, then Am gave a little nod, and hugged their Ren.
They hugged in silence for a while. It was all they could do.
Am didn’t remember the trip home well. They remembered sitting for a long time, before eventually their Ren helped them up, telling them they’d be better going home. They let their Ren lead the way; they were busy attempting to obscure themselves behind Asariel’s flowing robes. They hadn’t stopped crying, but the worst of their jags had passed. Now that it was done, they just felt… dull. They didn’t know if they even felt better.
They do remember entering to the vague smell of honey and nuts, and their mother emerging from the kitchen to hug them tightly. Isra too attempted some words of comfort. They talked a bit about what happened, tried to get through to Am. Am barely heard them. Out of line or no, the Institute was right. There was no future for them there. Seeing the wizardly garbs of several of their family members helped no matters; their archmage elven parent, and their talented wizard sister. Even seeing their mother barely helped. She was a successful shopkeeper, after all, and it was what she wanted. Everyone was successful and well put together. But not Am. Something about them was broken, and kept them from achieving what they wanted. And so this family was saddled with this failure among perfect success.
Am eventually pulled themself out of their grasp. “No, it’s okay,” they said dully.
“Am-” their mother started.
“I knew this would happen,” they said with half-honesty. “Even if I didn’t, you know I’d never be a good wizard anyway. In which case, what’s the point? It’s… for the best, right?”
They had done their best to keep their voice even, but something about the last sentence hit an already sore spot, and they found themself crying again. Their mother hugged them again.
“If you want to be alone a while, you can,” their mother said. “But we’re here, always.”
“And we’ll help you find something,” their Ren said with certainty. “Whatever it takes.”
“Yeah!” Isra agreed, clasping their hand. “That school is full of stuffy people anyway, right? It’s not just you; they are.”
Isra narrowly avoided a brief reprimand from Asariel on account of the room’s tone.
“...Thanks,” Am said, before shuffling to their room. “But really. It’s fine. I know where I stand.”
They shut the door to their room before sliding against the door to the ground.
On the grounds of failure, where I always will be. |
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Post by Gelquie on Nov 15, 2021 0:33:58 GMT -5
Euroatlantis D&D and Amani related, but it's not sad this time! Amani (Am) is like, 6 or something in this fic. Some parts are more loose, like exact behaviors or a certain thing that I'll put into a spoiler box after the fic, but hey, details! I just wanted to write lil!Amani tonight. A Phase(Verse: Euroatlantis) It was a quiet evening at the family home. The family had just spent a day out attending a parade for a local holiday, and were now resting in their various commodes. Naila had already put dinner on the pot, and was sitting waiting for it to simmer as she made small talk with Asariel and her young child Ra.
“There were so many!” Ra boasted. “I didn’t know there were that many students at the school!”
“Students and staff, yes,” Asariel, replied. “It’s decently sized for what it is, without being Goldenspire. It’s a good school.”
“Were any of your kids there?” Ra asked. “You should give them extra credit if they did! No, you should pass them!”
“They’re students, not kids, and yes, I’m glad to have seen them there. I didn’t promise extra credit, but I’d say they’re all doing well.”
Naila smiled. “The way you tell your lessons help a lot with that, I’m sure of it.” She tilted her head, just in time to see her spouse gently hide the blush on their face.
“I’m surprised Am hasn’t come out yet,” Ra commented. “I know they were having fun too. Are they tired?”
“I’m not sure,” Naila said, her smile disappearing into confusion. “They seemed very keen to go to their room right afterwards, but they didn’t really say why.”
Asariel thought. “Perhaps they were just overwhelmed.”
Ra looked up. “Should I go get th-”
A door slammed open, and Am came out, decked in what was available and what passed for them as a uniform, complete with a cloak and a belt that was much too big for them, with said belt tied at the waist instead of buckled. In their hands was a stick.
“We are the Order of the Arcane Shield!” Am announced! “Hyah!”
The small child marched in step, holding their stick up in front of them.
“The Arcane Shield: We stand at form!
To keep our spirits and our doors.
We pocket the arcane and homely weak,
So you may earn all that you believe!”
By this point Am had reached the living room, where they proceeded to chant a string of what would be arcane words if Am knew a word of arcane. All the while, they swung their stick in order to show off the tricks that they had spent the last hour making up.
“Ah, Am, more towards the center!” Naila said, grabbing a lamp before Am could knock it over.
Am slightly slowed for a moment after the chiding, but after seeing that no one was telling them to stop, they proceeded to continue with their “sword” tricks, and soon they finished their chanting with a dramatic clumsy flourish.
Naila applauded politely. “Well done! You’re such a big strong songsword!”
Ra only just managed to contain her laughter, and she managed better after Asariel gave her a knowing Look.
“I take it you liked the Order of the Arcane Shield’s performance,” Asariel noted.
Am nodded vigorously. “Yeah! They’re magic and strong! I bet they can do so many things and have so many adventures, and they sing, they have swords! And they go, fwoo!” Am made a motion with their ‘sword’ to demonstrate. “They’re so cool!”
“Did you make that outfit, Am?” Ra asked.
“Yeah!” Am then looked down at their outfit. “I mean, close as I could get. But it’s pretty close, right?!”
Asariel nodded, noting that considering they did this by themself and at such a young age, it was very well put together.
“Do you want me to show you how to buckle that belt?” Naila asked politely.
Am looked down at the belt again. “Uhh… yeah, maybe. But um, there aren’t a lot of holes anyway...”
“Ah, well, I guess tying works well enough for now.”
Am beamed, and continued with demonstrating their songsword skills and singing, with brief chastisements to please not knock things over and one to please ask help--or rather permission--before they cut one of their shirts for the costume.
Even so, it would not be the last demonstration for their family. For now they had an outfit and a routine and occasional guided lyrics, and they were going to use it! For when they grew up, they were going to be a songsword and an archmage! They were gonna do so many cool spells and have so many sword tricks and look so cool and sing and chant and be really good and famous at what they do! And they would even make their own chants as well as their own spells! That’s how cool they’d be!
They were really shaping up to be… Am the Ultra Archmage Songsword!
(Mega Archmage Songsword? Ultra Songsword Archmage? ArchSongsword? And which name should it be? Amal the ArchSongsword? Amani the ArchSongsword? Amon the ArchSongsword? Maybe Amna? Wait, no, the title was more important anyway, they’d pick a name later when they’re grown up!)
Am the Mega Super Ultra ArchSongSword would stand above all, and continue to show and expand their skills to their family and friends until they eventually decided to do something else with their future! Note: As for the lyrics and exact chant, I dunno, I just sort of made up a short demonstrative one that may or may not be canon. Or they used it for a while before moving onto something else. Or it's too elvish and this is the closest translation. You make the call!
But you should probably know the lyrics that I based Am's... interpretation off of. Here they are!
The Arcane Shield: We stand at fore
To keep your spirits and ardour.
We protect the arcane and homely weave
So you may earn all that you achieve. |
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