oooh it’s that dragon-and-Felix story you talked about!
THAT’S INSANE. THAT’S INSANE. THAT’S JUST-- INSANE.
I can’t stop pacing, griping mom’s necklace in my right hand so tightly that the groves of the pendant dig into my skin.
But if it’s real, then that means–
My stomach drops, like it’s being sucked into a portal to who-knows-where.
Then that means… Ding!
I freeze. Breathe, Wren, breathe! Maybe it’s not her, maybe–
I can hear the sound of dad opening the door,
of her voice coming though. I can’t tell what she’s saying. But it can’t mean anything good.
I’m rooted to the spot, and I consider my options.
I could pull up my blankets and pretend to be asleep. She wouldn’t wake me up, would she?
I could hide somewhere, so she can’t find me. Maybe I could lock myself in the bathroom and pretend I’m constipated until she leaves.
I could jump out my window and risk some broken bones.
Lie, lie, LIE! Deny it, pretend it never happened-- she has no proof, anyway. But then, I’d have to look at her, I’d have to talk to her.
I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs. WHAT SHOULD I DO??
I collapse on the gorund, just realizing how weak my knees had become.
No, at this rate–
My doorknob twists.
At this rate!
I’m diving under my bed, but I forgot how short my bed was, and I can’t really fit through.
The door opens.
Maybe, I’m blending into the piles of dirty clothes I have all over my room. If I just hold my breath, and stay sti-- shit! I think I left my underwear on my desk. Is she looking around my-- of course she’s looking around my room. I bet she’s so judging me right now. Forget last night, how will I look at her in the eye from now on? No, that’s besides the–
Her footsteps sound closer,
I scrunch my eyes shut.
“Wren.” She says, her voice calm. “Are you looking for something?”
I bump against the top of my bed, in my hurry to sit up.
She’s sitting right beside me, leaning her head against my bed frame, a smile playing on her face, her eyes shining mischievously.
My heart skips a beat when I meet her eyes, and I think I forget to breathe.
Her hair’s pulled back into a messy bun, but a few strands of blond hair slip out, falling over her face. She’s still in her pajamas, and there are deep, dark circles under her eyes, and the skin of her lips are cracked from the cold outside.
I know my face is red.
I can’t help it.
I keep looking at her mouth,
and I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore,
just the vivid dream I’d woken up from, just a few minutes ago–
I’d kissed her-- I’d kissed her! I can’t believe I’d-- but I thought it was a dream, so–
And if I’m right, and those dreams are more than just dreams…
“Oh, Mica…” I say, laughing, hoping my voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “H-hi. I didn’t know you were coming over.”
I talked about that one? Maybe it was the Dragons Tale I was talking about… or maybe I did talk about Felix, I don’t remember. There’s no dragon in his story, though, the POV character is a humanoid creature.
That was so suspenseful! Awww.
I had a name once, but nobody used it. Now I’m just called the ice queen, a name that refers both to my manner and to my mastery of ice magic.
I spend most of my time on the cloud hanging far above the earth, home to a thriving population of immortals and other creatures with strong flight capabilites.
“This rat is supposed to have stolen a unicorn’s berries, but the unicorn was too big for me to carry up here.”
That’s right, I’m a judge for everything from petty disagreements like this to things that actually matter. And I have to pretend I’m not utterly tired of this job.
I take a moment to put on my fanciest voice, the one that pretends I’m taking this seriously.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Well, I mean, he wasn’t eating them. They were just lying there. I mean sure he picked them and all, but like-”
One of my hands reaches up to rub my forehead, but I stop it for appearances sake.
“Enough. In the future you will ask. There will be no punishment this time.”
My confidence has been perfected over the countless years I’ve been alive, so they don’t question what I say. I’m perfect for this job, and I’ve yet to find a worthy replacement, but I’m so ready to quit. More and more frequently I’ve been taking chances to disappear and spend a day in the village below in my Inner form.
Normally people would recognize a person’s Inner form by the visible aura charicteristic of Inner forms, but I don’t give away aura or feelings in my Outer form.
Even the Immortals who’ve seen me on and off for my entire life don’t recognize my Inner form, and that’s why I can just be myself.
I’m so tired of being a fancy judge fairy, but I’m so set in my ways now, I don’t know how to change. Now that they’re gone I allow myself to rub my forehead, then I pace to the edge of the fluffy white expanse and dive off the edge, whirring my wings to slow my fall through the free air.
I make sure nobody’s watching, then leave my Outer form in the depths of the forest, quickly making my way to the village on the cat legs I’ve grown so comfortable on. This form, too, I’ve grown to love more than being a fairy. Perhaps when I find someone to replace me as judge I can just leave my fairy form behind and continue like this, forever. This cat has been around long enough that it’s invisible, I could very well stay undiscovered.
Mar’s children, Viva and Rain, are playing with mud just outside of town, with Mar’s neighbor Mrs. Crocodile keeping an eye on them.
I charge into the mud puddle, forgetting about everything for now.
I think Felix was someone who saves the dragon? But the dragon is in a different form so Felix doesn’t realize that the dragon was the one who didn’t help him when he needed help before.
Also, oooh, more about Rain. Is this a longer daydream?
Arrossa dips her head, parting the bead curtains as she steps into the meditation room, Neil following behind her. I nod my head to the both of them, and they nod back, before settling near me for their mandatory period of meditation.
I re-focus on my magic, and close my eyes, feeling the power inside me. It’s hard to grasp at, and harder to control. I’m supposed to grab it and pull it out, exercising it, letting it get stronger. But that’s tiring, and I don’t want to give anyone more reason to deem me worthy of being the future Clan leader’s partner, so I usually just leave it alone, and let it be.
Today, I’m a little bored, so I tug at it. Something reacts, and the familiar warmth fills my chest. I breathe in, relishing the feeling.
Then something rocks against me with an invisible force, and I still, bracing myself. Arrossa’s magic swirls around us, strong enough to be a physical force.
I know it’s hers from the way it moves, whimsical and cold, like a chill current. Neil is better at containing his, even though he’s the strongest one here. His usually feels like a bubble— flexible, when pushed, but solid, and structured.
I wonder what mine would feel like. I’ve never asked anyone.
It was Rexorax and Flax. That was my best story, and better because I actually wrote and finished a version of it!
That was also set in the daydream world. not that I daydreamed from her pov specifically, she’s been a side character. Writing that solidified a lot of things that were blurry about her.
With these prompts I’m more trying to see things through the lens of the word than actually trying to think of a story most related to the word, but I guess it’s okay since it’s inspiring me to write.
I’m going to try to think of something original this time though, since I tend to write better when I don’t have a thousand established details lining up to be included.
Miles and miles away from the nearest town, on the slope of a mountain covered in snow, I sit down to take a break from the strenuous climb. My breath shows up clearly on the air, inevitably making its way through the scarf over my mouth.
The desolation of the featureless white seeps over me, and I wonder how it would feel to lie down and let myself be covered in snow, to be found hundreds of years by some stranger climbing this mountain for god knows what reason.
Pure, frigid mist drifts by, chafing my skin and drifting away. The sky is blank, drifting by far overhead. My heat bleaches out into the snow around me through my hat, less heat as there’s less inside me, and numbness starts to take over.
What am I doing?
I sit up, only now realizing I was lying down, suddenly filled with fright. I could die if I’m not careful- there’s nobody to save me up here.
Now as I look at the featureless snow I wonder how many corpses could be preserved beneath it. I would never know unless I stumbled right onto one. My stomach swims as I stare at the peaceful snow, too still, too silent.
Adjusting my bag on my shoulders, I resolutely plant one foot in front of the other and I don’t look back. I will not let myself go mad up here.
Well, that wasn’t too original, but sometimes descriptions for the sake of descriptions is fun.
I feel like this is just the other thread, but we get to write
ohhh I got the names mixed up
I mentally flip through the books I’ve written, and just pick one where I can imagine the characters relating to the word. Mostly because I don’t know those characters yet and this helps me see different sides of them
it scared me, almost
this is like dark-elsa when she sings “let it go”
[fanfiction alert!] [of greydaygirl’s story, “The Wandering God”]
I let the rain drum on my head for a while.
The smell of earth and rain mix together in the air, and it’s a good smell. I breathe it in, a forgotten longing aching at my chest. Trees rustle above my head as drops of water cleanse their leaves and branches, the forest is filled with the sound of the animals around me scurrying for cover. The sky is grey with roiling clouds, thunder rumbling somewhere deep within them.
It’s been centuries, and I haven’t fancied the thought in decades, but suddenly, I wish I could still fly.
As a deity, I once walked the clouds, dancing with the rain before it hit the earth.
No use wanting for the past.
I shift my bag, and keep trudging the forest path, towards the nearest town.
I smile, starting to hum.
I’ve saved up enough coins for a night or two of drinking, I think.
Yeah, this is perfect, because after a point in any conversation no matter how long I start to feel like we should be doing an activity, and I really do need to be doing something like writing.
I need more writing games in my life.
I should really know my characters better, that is a great way to use this game.
Thanks. I just feel like I’ve read something very similar recently.
That paints a really clear picture, concisely. Now I’m a little curious about that story.
The rocks are hard, but deceptively slippery. I don’t want to fall, even though that’s what most people come here for. Neither am I here to look out over the rooftops, like some come to.
I’m here because I could feel myself consciously avoiding this place, and I don’t want to feel like what happened three years ago left any sort of mark on me.
Unbidden, memories of the grim face of a schoolteacher delivering the news float to my mind.
The story was that Coby had slipped off the cliff, though they had no reason for why he was here in the first place.
They knew that he had a habit of bullying the other kids, and that he might have had enemies. Whether or not they knew the full extent of his actions, they must have had their doubts about his death.
It was not just for my sake, but my best friend. He knows what I did, and we don’t talk about it. We’re both just glad that that nightmare is over.
I snap to reality, suddenly feeling chilly despite the warm air. I came here, that’s enough.
I don’t need to come here again.
Oooh that got dark again
It was a shock reading something NOT fantasy related I turn everything into a fantasy-novel-like setting
Sirius wakes up to find his feet hovering over the ground.
He looked over his shoulder, glaring at Lyra, who was carrying him by his underarms.
“Hey.” Sirius says, grabbing the girl’s attention. “What is this?”
“Oh, me carrying you?” She asks, then smiles. “I’m going to help you find your Skills. Most of the others have already found theirs, and we’re behind schedule.”
“Oh,” Sirius says.
A few minutes pass by, and even Sirius can feel the strain it’s taking on Lyra to keep carrying him.
“So where are we going?” He asks.
“To that waterfall.”
“Oh, look, we’re almost there.”
“What are we gonna do at the–”
She drops him.
Sirius has about twenty seconds to himself, before he hits the water. And the thoughts that ran through his head, in this order, are:
Is she going to catch me?
What if I die, though?
WHY ISN’T SHE CATCHING ME?
And then he slams into the water, and loses consciousness.
I’ll check it out when I feel like reading! I have it on a tab now, not that that means much for me.
Fun fact, the story is set in the same fantasy world as all the angels and demons and in the same multiverse as the immortals and all that crazy magic, but there’s no magic involved in that story and it’s set in an almost modern town.
ooh, more magic!
Why are training montages so much fun?
The earth is rich, the sun feels good, and I’ve grown bigger and bigger. Stirring from my position is the last thing I want to do right now, but there’s a presence that shouldn’t be here, a presence that isn’t a plant or insect.
Reluctantly, so reluctantly, I open up my senses. He’s in the form of a fox, he’s young, and of course he came here to use object that I’ve grown over for so long.
I don’t want to give it to him just because that would involve moving the stiff vines I’ve spent so long painstakingly growing, but reluctantly I recall that this is my duty.
I have to ask him some questions and then allow him access. It’s not as though someone who came all the way here was unsure of their resolve.
Voice, voice. Right, I have to change form enough to give myself vocal cords, disrupting the rythm of my sap and my natural growth.
He watches as I shift slowly and grudgingly into a form that can speak.
“So. You want to become immortal. You are aware that people will die around you over and over, until you’re…”
I can’t remember what goes next. Why would death be a bad thing? It’s part of life. At this very moment I’m enjoying nutrition from dead plants in the earth.
“I understand! I don’t have anybody to leave behind right now, and when I do I’ll handle it!”
Says the fox boy with all the energy and nerves of a walking creature. I’m supposed to ask something else, but I don’t feel like it.
I pull my roots outwards, stretching them unnaturally and uncomfortably to reveal the object.
I instruct him, and he walks closer to it in the baffling way that creatures do. He puts a paw on it, receiving the power that will turn his whole being into magic, and backs away when it’s done.
Relieved it’s over with, I stretch myself back over the object and settle myself back into the rythms of life that will heal me from this disruption.
The other immortals sometimes come here and offer to relive me of my duty here, but I’m a long way from tired of being a plant.
I couldn’t tell I thought it was from one of those intense stories about the MC having been bullied in the past
Ooh there’s a lot about the details of becoming immortal in these stories of yours
The view is pretty dazzling, after having trekked this far.
I’m not sure if it really is, or I’ve convinced myself it is, since I’d spent the past three hours walking to see this rumored lake.
I bend over the water, and a clear reflection of my face peers back.
Hm. There’s definitely some magic involved. Otherwise, how can the lake be so still and so perfectly reflective, like a mirror? I guess the rumors were more than simple rumors after all.
I set up camp, to watch it. Magic is curious, and impatient. I’ll figure out what’s haunting this lake if I just wait it out.
I started reading it, and have been making good time since I haven’t been doing much else.
There’s a little bit of everything in that multiverse. And there are a ton of characters in that town, some of them based off realistic fictiony tropes instead of magical ones.
There are way too many random complicated magic systems in my world, I don’t know how I’d write actual longer stories about them.
that corner of the multiverse was born when I was around ten and was playing with sculptures I made. That’s probably why all the magic is so overpowered, and it’s why all the character are in the forms of animals.
Why did they leave me?
The cloudy sky forms above me as the haze of sleep fades. The shelter above me is little more than a piece of wood jutting out of the wall. It won’t even protect me from getting wet when it rains, since the water runs down the slanted street.
At least it’s drinkable water. Having to sneak over the city wall and walk several miles through the plains to the river is a pain.
I’ll make my way to the garbage pile, there could be something to eat there. If there’s no food leavings for me, perhaps there are birds. Those pests taste much better than most leavings, when I manage to catch one.
I don’t think about much beyond my next meal these days. My entire existence is one big unanswerable question.
Why did my family leave me behind in this town?
If I remember right, our village had been destroyed by a border skirmish with the kingdom I’m in now. They grabbed me and my sister and got out, and walked from place to place looking if they could stay, booted out of several villages, and then they got to this city.
We were seperated when a kid stole my bag and of course I chased the brat. It was several days before I got the bag back, but anyway I didn’t find my family again.
I found out they’d been seen leaving town that very day, but none of people willing to talk to me knew any more than that.
Could be they didn’t care enough to get me, could be it was too dangerous for them to stay and find me. Whatever it is, I’m never gonna know for sure.
I don’t quite have this characters voice down. They’re from a later part of a story I’m writing. I should make up some curse words for them.
Oooh how do you like it?
The main character is so awesome! I wish she had more chances to show that thoughhh
Woah you’ve been thinking over these for a long time
Well if you have the setting and context for the characters down it’ll make it easier to understand them
That’s so cool though!! World building is a chore for me and I’d rather be writing random character interactions instead
I’ve had the same issue, trying to think up of curse words in imaginary worlds
I have to leave.
If it’s between me and Neil, of course Neil should be the one to stay.
So I have to leave.
The realization dawns quite suddenly on me, as I’m sitting on the balcony floor, dangling my legs over the edge, watching the sky.
And, the sooner I leave, the better. The rumors will unfold quite nicely from there. The witches will be satisfied, having given enough punishment to equal the mistakes Neil and I had made. Because what would bring me more despair, than leaving everything I’ve worked hard for since I was old enough to understand?
No, it’s not enough. It’s not my everything.
Then, what if I erase everything, then?
Everything. Their minds, I’ll make them forget I ever existed. That must be enough. It’d be pretty depressing if everyone who knew me suddenly forgot me and everything I’ve done.
That must satisfy the witches. It’d be like I’d never existed to begin with.
The pinks and purples of the sky suddenly light up, as a bright orange sun starts to rise at the horizon.
To think, that is is what I’ve lived for.
It’s really cool! I love the world, and I’m enjoying seeing how things play out between the characters.
The main character is kind of arrogant, but smart and tough enough to back that arrogance up most of the time. She’s fun.
It’s hard to formulate thoughts on it, but it’s exiting.
This world came from me playing with toys in my room, then me daydreaming which is basically the same thing but without the toys. I feel like writing stories is just an extension of playing as a kid, except there’s rules and you can bring the fun to other people if you’re good enough.
I would still play with toys if it were convenient, and I still daydream when I can.
Roleplaying with other people is a lot harder than making a world and rules by yourself, but maann that’s fun when you get just the right combination of rules and world and people.
I get the appeal of dnd, but mmaannn that is not something I have the patience for.
I want the curse words to sound like they could be very offensive in their own world, but have no offesive real world equivalants.
I’ll think about it when I have to introduce the character, which will be a while since I haven’t even been writing the story in question…
I’ve abandoned the life I once had for the sake of peace.
It was a life of companionship, good food, and sure money, but a life of violence.
My life force was not meant to kill people, regardless of who those people are or what the goverment told us about them.
I don’t believe the enemy kingdom was a kingdom of demonic, evil soldiers, nor do I believe we were right to feel no guilt in their deaths.
All I have now is a house on a mountain and a garden, enough to keep me alive.
But somehow I feel lighter and purer, and my lifeforce itself has changed to confirm this. I can do all the magic I learned before, but it now has the physical appearance of a soft, constant light.
The ability to cut things, levitate things, and shield things is why it’s been possible for me to survive here on my own. Otherwise I think it’d be too much work for me.
The other soldiers have this magic too, they would be able to run away like I did and choose this life. But they didn’t, they stayed for their physical pleasures and vices and the pleasure of murder.
I feel a cold satisfaction spread though me as I sit under a cold waterfall near my house.
I’m better than them.
The more I see of it, the more something in my head hurts.
He’s sitting in the dying evening light, a concentrated frown etched on his face as he looks at a book on his lap.
Of course, Kayla is sitting opposite him, making obvious dreamy eyes at him. I can’t believe Wynn hasn’t noticed her feelings for him yet. The heartless idiot.
Again, I squint at the side profile of Wynn’s face, trying to figure out what about him makes him feel so alien. Maybe it’s his ‘chosen one,’ vibes. Whatever he does, wherever he goes, he ends up being the at the center. Everyone just ends up fading out a bit, as if the world were a play, meeting its protagonist.
Even now, in this huge hall filled with people going about their own business, Wynn’s presence holds a weight no one else’s can, and I can’t help but let my eyes wander to him.
He flips a page, and the movement is so Wynn, as if it could belong to no one else.
“Hey, Lux,” Caden’s voice comes, as he waves a hand in front of my face. I startle, breaking my gaze off of Wynn and turn to the boy sitting across from me.
“Yeah?” I mutter.
“Stop staring. I’m pretty sure you’re making him uncomfortable.”
As if hearing his words, Wynn glances up, holding my gaze, for just a fraction of a second, before looking down again, his frown deeper.
I smile. “Good.”
Dungeons and dragons. Seriously, I’ve heard about 12 hour sessions occuring regularly. Even if there was no eating going on (something that is impossible for most people) I wouldn’t want to spend 12 hours around people nonstop.
“I haven’t seen you before. What’s your name?”
Silence whirled around at the voice. He always went out of his way to avoid other dragons, since he’d had a bad experience with so called friends when he was little.
“I’m not interested in you.”
He replied to the bright eyed girl dragon currently sharing a mountaintop with him.
She seemed taken aback for a moment, but then her face became knowing.
“I have an aunt like you! She’s rude, but I think she’s just lonely. You don’t have to tell me your name. My name is Thena, and I like fancy flying and making friends!” I’m not lonely, Silence thought irritably. His hobby was hiding and watching animals go about their lives, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. It was a weird hobby, and he had been made fun of for it in the past.
“I recently moved out of my mothers cave, so I don’t know a lot of dragons around here. Oh, do you have your own cave yet? I’m really good at finding empty caves, I could find you one. We’re around the same age, I think we’d make great friends. Do you live around here?”
Thena babbled, his silence seeming to make her want to talk more.
“My name is Silence. I have my own cave, thanks.”
Thena continued to follow him, chatting about the local wildlife and which of the giant bugs tasted the best all day until he finally said,
“My hobby is watching animals. Without making any sound, so they don’t notice me and run. I was going to go do that before you showed up.”
“Oh… I’ve never heard of a hobby like that before! I don’t think I could manage that, so I’ll see you when you’re done. You’ll have to tell me all about it!”
And so he shook her off for a few hours. But he always seemed to meet her on his way home, or when he was limbering up his wings in the morning.
She was so determined to be his friend, he eventually decided to stop being rude. It never worked anyway.
These are characters from a story that I wrote a long time ago, that’s unfinished and on paper. Someday maybe I’ll write a second draft of this and my other only on paper stories… they had a lot of potential and exitement, but had really bad phrasing and could use more reordering and side characters.
My hands slip, and I watch as all my pennies hit the floor and scatter.
The sound enough is enough to make me flinch, and thinking about picking all of those coins up feels like even more of a pain. Why is Aki always making me do stupid things?
I sigh, and sit down to collect all the coins. I’d been carrying them to Walmart’s vending machine, to change all the spare change in our house to dollars. Because Aki is an evil older sister, she’d made me do this pointless chore instead of just making people at cash registers deal with our spare change, like a normal person.
Someone kneels next to me and starts picking up the coins, and I glance up.
“Wren,” I smile, pleasantly surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Getting nail polish,” she says, flashing her fingers at me, which have colorful neon paint on the nails. “I was running out. What about you? Is this from your piggy bank or something?”
“No, Aki suddenly made me hunt our house for all our spare change so we can clean things up a bit. Ugh, I don’t even know what goes through her mind sometimes.”
Wren gives a short laugh, but then she goes quiet. She’s usually like that.
We manage to collect all the coins, and she helps me pour them into the machine.
“Thanks,” I grin, when the dollars come out.
“It’s nothing,” she says, turning to leave.
“Wait,” I say, catching her arm, and she jumps, as if stung. I falter, when she looks at me, looking bewildered and red. “Uh. I mean, since we’re both out, there’s an ice cream place nearby?”
That just seems to make her more agitated, and she starts fidgeting with the long sleeves of her hoodie. “Oh. Um… today’s not really that great, so…”
She glances up at me, and looks away again. “But, if you want to…”
“So you’re coming?” I ask, brightening.
She shrugs, and nods. “Sure.”
Like sentences are longer than they need to be, word order is confusing, that kind of thing. I could copy a sentence or two…
I’m trying to find an example of bad phrasing, but having trouble. Maybe the start of the story with the consistancy errors… (the one the characters above are from)
“The kingdom of Jannusa is a large, peaceful place, and nobody has tried to attack it for a long time. Attacking Jannusa would be a bad idea, because the attacker would not only be fighting a huge army of angry humans, but also an even larger army of angry animals, too.”
Just see how many extra words are in there? And repeats, and ughh… XD
All my older stories seem to have one character like that. I rarely got to the point where they opened up, though.
On the rainbow dragons cloud kingdom, all was peaceful. The only concern of the brightly colored creatures was the latest fashion trend. Fashion was easy for creatures who could change the color of their scales just by looking at something of the color they wished to wear.
But there was one thing that was in short supply on the cloud, one thing that orange sunsets and the bright fish in the seas below couldn’t supply.
“Woah dude, where did your hat come from?”
Spyk asked his elder, Rayl, exitedly. The hat in question was bright purple and had the consistancy of soft clay, which was a novelty item on the cloud given that it came from far away.
Rayl looked around warily before leaning in close and confessing,
“I sort of rescued it from prison. It’s a weird creature that flew in the other day, but I repurposed it as a hat. Don’t tell, okay?”
Spyk looked at the blob skeptically, covertly turning some of his own scales to that shade of purple.
“That thing can fly? I mean it’s more believable than it being a hat, but… it’s not, like, wing shaped, you know what I mean?”
At that moment, the hat gained consciousness.
Len looked around, refreshed after the long sleep. He’d gone to sleep on a lovely firm iron floor, and now he was on something moving…
He was a hat. As the realization hit, he slowly made himself more hat shaped, hoping nobody would notice. If everybody beleived he was a hat he could get out of here!
That was fun. those are characters from the first story I ever finished (pin and len) and rainbow dragons are from the sequel, which I didn’t finish.
ohhhh I’ve done that
(I’m dying a little of cringiness as I re-read this)
Her smile held for only a second before it gave away, and for a second, I saw a menacingly dark expression steal over her face. I would’ve recoiled, but I was too deeply buried in my princess act.
“Oh, please. Showing me a few flashes of anger isn’t going to deter me from saying anything. Anyone can see the observations that I just listed. You’re mistaken if you believe otherwise. That was all without the aid of a magic spell to help me, just so you know.”
AHHHH I USED TO LOVE THAT SCENE, it was about the main characters confronting each other openly for the first time. the dialogues are soooo long and unnecessarily complicated (who TALKS like that??)
that was one of the better lines said
I think all writers cringe, reading their old work
all my older stories have 2 main characters WHO WOULD ALWAYS FIGHT for no reason
what is this??
*sorry, who is this?
ughhh I can’t think of anything
I’ve been postponing this for daaaays
but I’m in the middle of writer’s block
just trying to write anything is just…
it sounds so fun also, and I feel the same about my old stories… it’s like this weird mix of cringe, ohhhh noooo and this is so enthusiastic and fun! why can’t I write like this anymore
I feel like I could still take some advice about enthusiasm from my older stories, but it’s hard to know how to be enthusiastic and gramatically correct at the same time. XD okay it’s more than just gramatical correctness, it’s simply making sense and having a goal.
I liked that dynamic I think, but in my one story where the two main characters were kind of rivals there was no venom at all in their fights. It’s just sort of her cracking lame jokes and him groaning most of the time. XD
Since I have this story in front of me…
“What are you doing out here all by yourself?” asked Phillup, unsure how to speak to one so young.
“I’m sitting by this river. Are you a traveler?”
“Yes. Look, should you really be out here all by yourself?”
The girl was now eyeing him with dislike.
“Hmm… can I follow you for a while?”
Phillup wondered if she was a criminal or something.
With her sky blue eyes and perfect blonde hair she looked to innocent for an of that.
wow, this is a really anticlimactic introduction.
Len, a bright purple blob of goo that shapeshifts and can’t get too wet because he needs to keep his texture right. One of the two main characters of the first story I can ever remember finishing, titled Pin and Len. Pin was the same, but pink… and a she?
If they get too wet they start to come apart and their consciousness scatters between their peices, eventually becoming too scattered for them to have awareness. They can’t be too dry either though, or shapeshifting won’t be easy I guess. So they’re characters based on clay. Man, the stories I thought of as a child were really different.
oh geez… take some time to completely not think about writing, and do something refreshing? You’ve probably already tried that. Good luck.
I think, when I force myself past my… fear, of writing, and then just close my eyes and keep writing, even when I have to force it and make stuff up,
I get close to the insane craziness I see in my earlier works
it’s also very fun, once I’m not terrified
(terrified of writing hundreds of pages of un-usable trash)
making sense is actually such a pain
that’s why I have writers block right now
I have things I wanna see happen,
but the transition from now to those events is just, so difficult to write
my “zero drafts” have pretty much… 0 sense and 0 direction. that’s why I’m afraid of writing,
it’d be much more fun if I can just, write, whether or not it makes sense.
making sense is so hardddd
I like rival-ish main characters
their dynamics are so fun!
they just seem puzzled, for now
I guess meetings often go that way
here’s one similar to that trope-ish I wrote a long while ago (well. two years ago…ish?)
And in the second I looked away from the ground, something gave away under my foot. I scramble to balance myself again, but I fall spectacularly, the cold of the concrete beneath me sinking into my jeans immediately.
As I struggle to get up despite my backpack’s heavy weight and the many layers in my jacket, I let out a grunt of frustration. “Winter should go die somewhere!”
Laughter startles the air.
I jump, but I only see the snow and the deserted pathway I’d been waddling along.
Okay, time to dial for the police.
I’m pawing at my coat pocket uselessly with my gloves, when I hear the crunch of snow in front of me.
A scream escapes my lips before I realize that I’m only looking at a girl… wearing nothing but a summery dress?
“Uh, sorry,” I say, for screaming unnecessarily.
The girl only smiles, her long, long, black hair whipping around her face in the wind.
Something about her is strange, and I subtly reach for my phone again.
the scene is really illogical after that, their interaction making no sense pretty much, since the girl with the summery dress (Noon) pretty much says nothing but laughs a bunch more times and then calls her an “idiot”
she was supposed to feel… ghost-y??
but, yeah. in the end she just felt like she was weird
that much be a pain
that’s so interesting though!!
I can’t really think about new species of creatures all that well
I’m just using witches, elves, etc-- the most widely-thought of versions of them
let’s see, then…
(this is cheating. I just searched up “leap” in my google drive and I’m using a clip from a previous story…)
It not rare that stronger Dhukshaths can show themselves to people even without the Sight.
Like the ceiling above my head, and grass-like carpet at my feet, they usually show themselves through something that looks in some way beautiful. Maybe they’re just vain, or maybe they love the attention.
Even the ones that get corrupted and cause trouble show themselves in pretty little swirls of color, or as lithe beasts who leap from building to building in graceful arcs.
I can’t blame him.
After all, he spent the entire day babysitting me and Kiana like some a lost man who suddenly found themselves taking care of the neighbor’s kids.
I feel like I’m able to make more exiting, crazy stories in my flash fiction because I don’t get to that point where I feel like I can’t add any more ideas to the whole thing, because it won’t match or work, or it will take attention away from the things that were supposed to be the focus of the story.
Perhaps it would be better to have too many ideas in a story than too little, which is what I’ve been veering toward, though.
That’s why I daydream instead of writing my stories out… not that daydreaming is productive, but I don’t have to struggle with story flow, direction, only having one or two themes in a single story, not having too many perspectives all doing the same thing… I can ignore all those rules and have fun, wheras when I write I struggle to show all the characters from the main characters perspective, and keep the primary focus on the main character.
(for instance, in the story at the bottom, all five of the people who end up being taken as apprentices have unique POVs, and I originally imagined that scene from one of the others. Later scenes I imagined, at the time of daydreaming it, from multiple perspectives.)
Writing is much, much harder than it sounds.
I feel like I’ve seen character intros that are exiting, but I’m not sure how to do that myself, to this day. XD
There’s a lot of description in that. That’s the thing most missing in my older stories, just basic description. They were like, this happened, and then this happended, without telling what it felt like or how it happened. I’m still struggling with that a bit.
I had one story with a mysterious girl showing up out of nowhere (who was the main characters sister from her past life, but I never got to that part) There was one character I was really looking forward to getting to, but honestly besides him the rest of the story was… not great.
As I was staring at the trees, a girl stepped out from behind one. It took me a moment to notice that her skin was goldenish, her hair was blue, and her eyes were bright green, brighter even than mine.
She was a pond spirit, or a wood person, depending on your opinion of the matter.
But I did not say that. I’m not the type to state the obvious.
Skipping ‘you’re a pond spirit’ or ‘are you a wood person’ I moved on to the next question.
“What are you doing here?”
But she did not answer right away. Instead, she complimented me.
“You have lovely eyes.”
The greenery in the dark forest rustled. Just as I was opening my mouth to remind her of my question, she responded to it.
“I’m not in town, am I?”
I smiled slightly.
“I suppose not, but you can be seen from town. Why are you talking to me?”
dang this makes me cringe.
I wonder if I was writing this around the same time as the story that had almost no plot, but a few random funny scenes. It was one of the few stories I finished in my days of writing on paper, and… it was a learning experience on how much content you need to have an actual satisfying plot. The writing in this reminds me of it.
Oh, I can’t think of new species anymore either. My childhood stories were where all the weird stuff happened. Nowadays I just use the templates for angels, demons, werewolves, and in my written stories dragons and other things, and twist them to make sense in my world.
I’d say the weirdest thing that still exists in my world is the immortals and that whole area, since I made the base of it when I was younger. Nowadays if I think of some magic that seems way overpowered and unbalanced I could just put it there, since it would be pretty hard to make too powerful magic in that place, considering what’s already there.
“Your number is 22.” said the man, making marking down Leon’s name on his paper. Leon nodded, and moved into a pool of waiting contestants.
Out of habit, his eyes scoured the crowd, and he tried to guess things about the contestants to entertain himself.
His eyes immediately snagged on a kid wearing a bright green coat, hat and trousers that were a little too small for him, despite how short the kid was.
Maybe he was poor, and those were someone else’s castoffs?
There was still the question of why he had chosen to wear a hat in the first place. It seemed out of place in a fencing competition. Well, I’ll probably never see him again. There’s a good chance he’ll be knocked out in the first round.
Leon looked through the milling, chattering crowd some more, trying to distract himself from his nerves. He wasn’t used to being in the spotlight, he was just here to spite his father. If he got knocked out in the first round because he was nervous he could just imagine his father’s laughter.
His nerves were drowned in a wave of anger. No. That’s not good either. I have to stay cool…
Another set of numbers were called, and the contestants headed out to the ring.
One of them had distinctively bright blonde hair and blue eyes, and radiated a noble bearing like a lighthouse radiated light. He wiped the floor with the other contestant.
Typical noble, probably being hard on himself in training to live up to family standards. Leon couldn’t imagine having that kind of loyalty, and didn’t envy him.
The next few rounds weren’t so quick, and watching their skill Leon predicted that none of them would make it far.
After Leon was half asleep with boredom, his number was finally called. Well, the wait calmed me down at least. I’m not going to lose.