#Novemberdwc2022

[daily-writing-challenge]

DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2022 IS BACK!

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!

Choose one or both words/IDEAS and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!

Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.

Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.

LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)

Tags that will be used: #novemberdwc2022,  #novemberdayX2022 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl

There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!

The next writing challenge will be next year!

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!

We look forward to reading some amazing writing!

((Written word list below the cut))

Day 1 - November 20:

Instinct, Neglect

Day 2 - November 21:

Orbit, Illusion

Day 3 - November 22:

Forest, Mortality

Day 4 - November 23:

Children, Vision

Day 5 - November 24:

Lush, Damage

Day 6 - November 25:

Home, Unnatural

Day 7 - November 26:

Infatuation, Endless

[rhysgoodwin]

November DWC Day 2 - Illusion

With a few twists of his wrist, Rhys finished installing the projector on the ceiling of his new room, and now it was the moment of truth! Flipping off the lightswitch, he picked up the little remote and clicked it on: The room was suddenly bathed in shades of blues and purples, with little white specks of light scattered all over. The illusion was very convincing, it looked like he was staring into space itself when glancing around his ceiling and walls. This was perfect for those cold winter nights when he didn’t want to be outside; he could bring the outside in.

The room had been a serious upgrade from the previous one. It still occupied the same space above the barn of the farm he worked on, but the owners of the farm decided he was overdue for something a little more suitable for a young bachelor. He was able to do most of the decorating himself, opting for brighter colors, art of sunflowers, and photographs of the farm animals he helped raise littering the walls. It was perfect, and it was his.

The Padleys had even allowed him to plant a small field of sunflowers in an unused area of their land, knowing of his love to lay in the neighboring farm’s field on his days off. His sunflowers had managed to grow larger than those of any of their neighbors; turns out that Rhys was a natural green thumb. After that, the farmer often asked for Rhys’s input when he was planting for the year, and the farm thrived with their combined knowledge.

Life was good.

“Wees...” Apparently the name ‘Rhys’ was not easy for a toddler to say. The little girl made ‘uppy arms’ at him, and he swooped her up and set her atop his shoulders. 

“Do you like it, Lia?” She gave a quick nod, stretching her little hands out towards the stars. “You’re welcome to come up and look at the stars with me anytime, but only if your mom says it’s okay. Speaking of, we should get you back down to your parents, it’s almost dinnertime.”

Aurelia was a surprise for the Padleys. They were both older in age, and Mrs. Padley had assumed that ship had sailed years ago. Their other children were grown adults and living their own lives now. Yet here they were, blessed with a bright and bubbly little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Rhys had taken to the role of ‘part-time babysitter’ quite well, he had a special bond with the little girl from the start.

Of course, they all knew the truth.  Mr. Padley had been sterile for years.

@daily-writing-challenge​

[celedyn]

November DWC 2022

Day 1 : Instinct/Neglect

“The Stygia market crashed!” Came the ragged shout as the goblin burst through his door.

Celedyn lifted an eyebrow, peering over the rims of his spectacles. The elf didn’t actually need the eyewear, but there was a certain gravitas to wearing them while shuffling through stacks of paperwork. “What; already?“ He hummed, reaching for his coffee cup and taking a sip of the unsubtly wine colored contents “Mnh, that’s even faster than I expected.”

Jezzix scoffed, obviously dissatisfied by the elf’s reaction. He strode across the office and stepped up onto the bench in front of Celedyn’s desk, finally the correct height to slam his palms into it, trying again “I SAID the Stygia market crashed!”

“I heard you quite well, kitten, I was—“

The goblin cut him off, voice coming in a panicked hiss “I invested my retirement account in the Stygia market!”

Celedyn blinked for several long moments, set the coffee mug down, then removed his glasses, leaning forward. The absolute gravitas of the moment, it was palpable. Perfection.  “you... YOU WHAT!?”

“I INVESTED MY ENTIRE—“

“I HEARD! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU—!? Kitten, I TOLD you those nouveaucurrency markets are unstable!” 

“You gotta swing big to win big! I talked to my financial guy; he told me you buy in the dip, sell in the rip!” He gesticulated wildly as he spoke, hands sweeping like a pair of rivaling kaliri.

“That doesn’t work when it keeps dipping! What’s anyone even doing with Stygia anymore? I heard the Mawwalker returned from beyond the veil nearly a month ago! They aren’t even keeping the death gates open full time, I heard you have to schedule an appointment with one of the emissaries from the Ebon Blade.” 

“Yeah, yeah, limiting how much Stygia gets mined keeps the supply low! Keeps the value high!”

“That whole supply and demand thing only works when there’s demand! Nobody WANTS Stygia for anything anymore! Nobody’s off and fighting in the Shadowlands; and it’s passé to be making armaments out of people’s eternal souls when you’re not even going to do anything with it. Remember Saronite? Remember when EVERYONE was wearing Saronite and then they found out it was the mortal remains of an old god and was slowly driving people insane? Suddenly nobody wanted anything to do with Saronite, everyone was investing in Eternium!”

“Yeah I had some bonds in Saronite, supposed to mature this year. Can’t even make a doorstop out of that shit.”

“Exactly! You can’t go putting your long term investments in nouveaucurreny! It’s too unreliable! How much did you invest?”

“My whole Wrath IRA!”

“What?? -- WHY?”

“My financial guy told me I was getting in while it was low!”

Celedyn groaned, slumping back into his chair. He tried to pull his spectacles off for dramatic effect, only to find he’d already removed them. Wasted the gravitas. He huffed and sat up, finding them and placing them back on, balanced on the end of his nose. “This guy… Is this financial guy by any little twinkle of fate the one who sold you the Stygia?”

“I— well yeah, he’s my financia… I’ll KILL HIM.” 

@daily-writing-challenge

[commanderbragh]

A Kidnapping

DWC Nov 23, Day 4 - Children

It had been a slow morning for Robert. Guard duty in Stormwind tends to start off slowly, and guard duty outside the Cathedral district even more so. Robert was happy for the break. Just as this thought had passed through his head, he looked up to see someone running towards him.

The figure was small. Probably a gnome, the guard thought to himself, but it was hard to say. The figure was wearing robes and had a mask over their face. He wasn’t certain, but Robert could have sworn he saw whiffs of smoke coming from under the robes. Not terribly unusual for someone wearing robes, someone who is a gnome, or both, he continued thinking. The short figure ran up to him and stopped suddenly.

“You need to help the children!” the small figure rasped.

“What’s wrong?”

“In the orphanage! There was a kidnapping! You need to go save the children!”

Robert’s eyes grew wide. Grabbing his scabbard, he steadied his weapon against his leg as he turned and ran through the archway that led into the courtyard outside the Cathedral. Dodging around pedestrians, the guard ran to the orphanage and sprinted up the ramp to the doorway. Pushing the door open, he startled to a woman who was sitting at a desk nearby.

“What in the world?!”

“I was told the children were in danger,” Robert managed to sputter as he tried to steady his breathing.

“The children?” She got up from the desk and moved to one of the other doors leading further into the building. “Come with me,” she added quickly.

Robert followed behind her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. The woman pushed the door open and peered into the room. The guard looked over her shoulder and saw a large room with cots lining the wall. Most of the cots were being used. He could hear the women counting quietly under her breath, ending with “Seventeen. They’re all here.” Then she backed out of the room, pushing Robert along with her. Once the door was closed, she turned to the guard and frowned.

“What do you mean coming in here and giving me such a fright?” she whispered.

“Someone came running up to me and said the children were in danger.”

“As you saw, they are fine. They are all here, sound asleep.”

“I apologize, ma’am. The person was quite urgent.”

“That doesn’t matter. You saw for yourself that all the kids are napping.”

“You’re right…” Robert started to say, then he stopped. “Kids. Napping.” A look of realization appeared as he brought his hand to his face and shook his head. From outside the main door, they both her a snickering voice.

“Sucker.”

@daily-writing-challenge

[renrael-wra]

DWC November 2022 Day 1 - Instinct/Neglect

Could it be called a panic if it crept up over days, then weeks, then longer?

Renrael scoured the newspapers for signs of her–reading from as far away as Orgrimmar. Ian said she’d ghosted him, but Ren thought better. She sometimes disappeared for a while. They were both prone to privacy, and he was trying to respect that, but he was worried about her, too.

Where had she gone so suddenly? She had a tendency to bolt, he knew that, but he hadn’t been expecting this one and couldn’t figure out what might have tipped her over the edge. So was it something more sinister than her fear of commitment? Was it something outside of him completely? Maybe? Probably? … It was pretty self-centered to assume he was the reason she  did things, wasn’t it?

So he kept going. Doing his usual routine, checking his comm and making deliveries. Reading the newspapers.

She didn’t usually go this long without contact. What if she needed help? What if she was in danger?

But, he couldn’t put it past her: what if she’d just decided to kill it all with numbing neglect? @daily-writing-challenge​ @trisandrah​

[kharrisdawndancer]

DWC November 2022 - Day 3 - Forest/Mortality - Kharris

Eversong always smelled lovely. Eternal spring brought blossoms and sea breezes to all her admirers. And it made Kharris smile. Her basket was full of newly cut wild herbs and flowers and she took a deep breath. This forest smelled like freedom for her.

Not so long ago, this is where she had remembered the road; how to live on the go, how to keep up her wagon, how to forage, and how to be alone for days at a time. The Scourge may have driven her from Silvermoon and upended her life, but her resilience had bloomed here in the forest. Where undeath had stripped so much magic from the kingdom, and brought such tragedy to their shores, Kharris thought, it also brought new beginnings and violently shook the High Elves from their centuries of stagnation.

Kharris rounded a bend, bare feet scuffing along the worn-brick road that wound down toward the sea, and paused her humming. She could hear a waterfall, past the birdsong and rustle of leaves. Then she heard a rumbling that signaled her to step to the side. She waited patiently, silent but curious, as the carriage rolicked past her. The Hawkstriders were not in formal livery but they were very fine stock and the carriage was in perfect repair, Someone who considered themself important was in a hurry.

Kharris was in anything but a hurry. She liked how her life moved a little like molasses these days: sweet and thick.

Her dimples came out at the thought and she tried to peek into the small windows. Just as well they were drawn though, it added to the mystery and drama of it. With imagined scenarios tumbling through her thoughts, she came out on a vista that overlooked the sea. The beach was nearly empty, but it filled her heart looking down there. She lingered in the last of the shadows of the trees and watched.

A man bent low and ‘chased’ a toddling little girl. His pale hair danced behind him and her dark locks bounced. He looked like he was laughing, and it made Kharris’s heart seize in pleasure to see. Once that laugh had been so rare. Nevermind that the little girl was probably giving a familiar shriek of delight, Kharris could hear the sound in her mind, even if the sea and wind swallowed it.

She swung her sandals over her shoulders again and made her way to join them.

@daily-writing-challenge

mentions: @murmuring-shadows

[xylaes]

November DWC Day 1 - Neglect

Warnings: Small mentions of alcoholism, drug use, and a lil’ bit of body horror

Companion piece to Garren’s Day 1 found ---> HERE

If someone had asked Xylaes five years ago where he thought he would be right now, the answer would not have been still living and working in a brothel. He had big plans to reunite his family, buy a house together, and live happily ever after. Yet the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as they say. Honestly it was the story of Xy’s life up until this point, and he shouldn’t have expected anything else.

It had been done before, he had heard about it and seen it with his own two eyes: Taking a soul out of the Shadowlands and implanting them back onto Azeroth. It wasn’t an easy process, nor was it cheap, but Callia would have been worth it. He could have his wife back, they could have their son and be a real family. Unfortunately, the missing piece of the puzzle was the most important: Her willingness. Xylaes knew a part of her yearned for that lost life, but she was never one to fuck with fate. Her time on Azeroth was over, and she would not go back.

After the Shadowlands closed up, losing his wife for a second time broke him in a different way than it had before. Back then he had something very tangible on which to take out his rage: They had stolen her life, so he would steal theirs, and he did just that. But now that it was her own decision to remain behind? He had nowhere to put that anger except towards himself.

He found comfort in the bottle as he had before, and alcoholism was one of the first bad habits to return. He couldn’t remember much from those first two months after the Shadowlands portals were closed. It was always easier for him to drink away the pain rather than wallow in it. Because of this, he began losing regular clients and quickly found himself walking on very thin ice with his employers. Thankfully they were friends and understanding of his situation, but there were moments when he probably should have been fired and thrown out onto the streets.

He had blown all of his savings on drugs and gambling within half a year; money he had been saving up to buy himself, and his son Garren, a new home. All that hard work so quickly and so easily gone. For a while, he had found it difficult to even look at Garren. So much of him resembled Callia, and Xylaes found it too painful of a reminder of what he had just lost…again. Their relationship suffered; Xylaes often canceled plans or just completely neglected to show up at all. It wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all, but the depression had taken hold and he found it difficult to do just about anything.

It wasn’t until he woke up behind bars, bruised and bloodied, bleeding from a hole in his thigh, and missing three fingernails on his right hand with zero collection of how any of this came to be that he decided he needed to get his shit together. Again. There was a threat of more prison time and a steep bail set, but for some inexplicable reason, Xylaes had people in high places still on his side that cared about him. He was embarrassed and ashamed, Callia would have detested this version of Xylaes. He owed it to her, and to Garren, and mostly to himself, to pull himself together and become the father that Garren deserved, and the friend that those who stuck by his side deserved.

The following years were spent in and out of rehab, going to plenty of therapy, and making amends with all of those whom he had wronged. While not once did he regret reuniting Callia in Maldraxxus, he could admit that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so attached again. He often wondered how she handled their separation, if she was just as angry or sad, and how she coped. On occasion he would sit in the portal room in Orgrimmar, staring at the empty space where the portal to Oribos once was, willing it to open again. It was a dream he needed to let go of and start focusing on his future, but for a man like Xylaes it was always difficult to let go of the past.

These days life was more stable. He still lived and worked in the brothel but his debts were all paid and he was now over a year sober. The temptation still remained, but had to admit that he felt healthier now than he had in a while.

Light had just begun to peek through the cracked curtains to his room when he heard a soft rapping at his door. With a squint, he glanced over to the nude feminine figure still sleeping next to him, and then towards the door. No one was supposed to bother him while he was ‘working’, so whatever this was must be important. With a grunt, he rolled off the bed and pulled on his robe before cracking the door open just enough to slip out and shut it behind him, talking in a whispered tone, “What do you want?”

The guard looked up at him and then towards the steps, “Umm…your son is here? Says he messaged you like…an hour ago.”

Xylaes wiped some of the groggy out of his eyes, staring blankly as the words processed through his mind. He hadn’t checked his comm since yesterday evening. “Wait, he’s here? You let him in here? Fuck sake.” He was already halfway down the hall when he waved at his room, “Can you tell her an emergency came up?”

He had taken care not to fully disclose his profession to his son, leaving the details vague and maybe a bit misleading. He had told him the name of the place in case of an emergency, that thought immediately made him hurry faster down the steps and into the lobby. “Garren, what’s wrong?” It took him a split second to notice the suitcase and a wide-eyed Garren looking around the place while slowly making connections in his head.

“Ohh, no. Nothing’s wrong. I ummm…I need a place to stay. Can I stay …here with you?” The words trailed off near the end of that question, still a touch uncertain as to what ‘here’ was.

“No.” The response was a little more aggressive than anticipated, and Xylaes quickly tried to soften his tone into something more reassuring. “I mean, you would need to work here to…” He waves a hand, that was NOT going to happen. “How about you meet me over in the Legerdemain Lounge, grab yourself a coffee, and we’ll figure something out, okay? Okay.” He shoved some change that was in his bathrobe pocket into Garren’s hand and practically shoved him out the door towards the Lounge. “I’ll be right there!”

“Shit..” he grumbled under his breath, although there was also some giddy anticipation there beneath the shock. His son came to him for help, that was a first! He rushed back into his room and tossed on some clothing, grabbed his comm device, and made for the door. There were two people he knew he could ask a favor of; as much as he detested asking for help, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice at this moment. His kid needed a place to stay and he did not currently have the money to make that happen, but he knew someone with extra rooms, and right here in Dalaran to boot.

He sent off a quick message to Fio as he made his way to the lounge, “Garren showed up at the Moon needing a place to live, do you have an extra room he could use until I figure something else out?”

@daily-writing-challenge @garrennorassin @fio-renze​

[garrennorassin]

November Daily Writing Challenge Day 1 - Neglect

Last June

His birthday had come and gone with little fanfare, but it had been that way for years now, hadn’t it? However, this was a milestone birthday, he was officially an adult, even though he yearned for the days when his grandparents would spoil him with sweets and gifts before gathering at the beach with his friends to have a big party. Ever since Teldrassil was burnt down, nothing had been the same. He lost his home, his remaining family, and many of his friends, all within a span of a couple hours. How terrible, yet strange it was to have everything you’ve ever known snatched away from you in the blink of an eye.

He sat in the small room he had spent the last few years in, staring at the lone, packed suitcase on the ground. The suitcase itself had been a gift from his guardians; that came with the mostly unspoken caveat that he needed to vacate their house. They were expecting a baby and needed the space, and now that Garren was of age he was no longer their burden to bear. The promise made to his grandparents had been kept, and they were now free of him. Not that he could blame them for wanting him gone, he wasn’t the most well-behaved under their guardianship and there wasn’t much else to do around the refugee camps in Moonglade other than finding trouble. He had become quite good at that.

In truth, he was happy to go. The word neglect might have been a little too harsh, but there were days when he had gone hungry and he had never felt an ounce of love or care from these ‘family friends’. He had spent most of his days off in the woods with his mother’s bow and quiver, and arrows that he made himself. It had always felt like he was just biding his time until this moment, and now he was ready for his next chapter.

There was only one place he could think to go, and the only family he had left. His father, Xylaes, had recently entered his life - after Garren had spent the majority of his formative years assuming the man to be dead. Theirs was a rocky relationship, but Garren could appreciate that Xylaes would answer all of his questions bluntly and honestly, even if they made him out to be the villain. In this case, he was in a way, but the older man had his reasons, paid a very steep price, and was desperate to get back into his son’s good graces. Not to mention his mother Callia had literally sent word from beyond to the grave to tell him to give Xy a chance, that he was a good man despite it all. But that was a story for another time.

Even if Garren had yet to feel that familial love towards his father, he felt, no, he knew that the older man loved him and would do anything and everything for him. Something he had not felt since his grandparents were alive. Although there was still a lot of anger, resentment, and distrust there, Garren desperately wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere again and this was the best place to start.

With a sigh, he picked up his suitcase and left; having already said his goodbyes, he headed straight towards the portal to Dalaran. Perhaps he should have told Xylaes of his plans, or lack thereof, but there was a slight feeling of exhilaration in heading off towards the unknown.

@daily-writing-challenge​ @xylaes

[tristennedarkmorn]

November DWC Day 4 - Vision

A slight follow-up to these stories: Part 1 - Red Part 2 - Taric

Red squinted down at the latest comm message that had chimed the night prior on his phone. While he was never one to give away too many emotions in his expression, the ‘what the fuck’ look was obvious. Zalan-fucking-drissa. A name he used to be quite familiar with, although it had now been..what? Five years? Who was even keeping track anymore. She wanted to figure out somewhere to meet and catch up. Right, because Red was known for his desire for small talk and hanging out with people that had a tendency to disappear for months, or years, at a time. They would more than likely run into each other at some point, but she could sweat it out for a while longer.

He rolled his eyes and tossed the device aside before crawling out of his bed, in his apartment. Planting roots wasn’t in Red’s nature, but he had to admit that having all of his belongings in one location was a welcome change - not that he owned much in the first place. Nobody knew where he lived aside from those closest to him, and he planned on keeping it just that way for the foreseeable future. The less visitors, the better.

Not that it would matter come next week; they would be shipping off to the Dragon Isles for who knows how long. New land meant new opportunities, especially for those in the ‘salvaging’ business. The whole mood surrounding this adventure was much different than what he had experienced when it came to the Shadowlands. There came an uncertainty with stepping foot into the Afterlives, especially knowing that a certain someone was likely there and waiting for him. 

And just as he predicted, she most certainly had been.

He eyed the small, sealed box covered in filigree sitting above his mantle with a little smirk. Bianca had always thought she was so much smarter than him, yet her egotism often clouded her judgement. Which was saying a lot given just how egotistical Red himself could be at times. He had found her just as he thought he would, although it was more likely that she had found him. The Maw was a fitting afterlife for her, but she had entered on her own accord, specifically seeking him. Even in death, their bond was undeniable, he could feel her constant pull and sway and assumed it to be similar for her.

She was there, right in Gorgoa with him and Taric. She wormed his way into his already susceptible mind and gave him false visions, using his own hate against him and he had nearly killed his nephew because of it. The two has brushed it off later, knowing fully well that the River of Souls could seriously mentally fuck you; but Red knew better. He felt her presence there. So later, when everyone else was asleep or otherwise occupied, he returned by himself, prepared for this very scenario.

Bianca was now back where she belonged, trapped and displayed on his mantle like a prize. No one asked about the ornate box, assuming it to be decoration, that, knowing Red, more than likely housed a variety of drugs. That was the truth, in a way. Knowing exactly where Bianca was at all times and especially knowing she could do nothing to him gave him a high that no amount of dust or thistle ever could. Maybe it was weird to keep such a malicious spirit in his personal space, but it was much, much better than any of the alternatives.

He raised his mug of coffee towards her personal prison in cheers, “Try not to miss me too much when I’m gone.”

@taricdarkmorn​ @zalandrissa-highvale​ @daily-writing-challenge

[gloamingdawn]

November 23 - Day 4 Children / Visions

Their meetings had started as a formal summons, nearly a year after the Regent Lord Theron had made her acquaintance on the transportation ring of Oribos.

Just them, alone in his office with a small stack of intelligence reports about her and dozens of his own questions to fill in the gaps. He understood her desire for privacy at least — the less people who knew she was a true Veilstrider, with some of the powers of the Val’kyr, the better. One meeting turned into a series of ten to discuss it all; she couldn’t leave her infant son alone with other family members for too long, nor did she want to.

That series of ten official meetings became more informal chats, set under a secret name with the Court clerk that managed the Regent Lord’s calendar. They were both old soldiers, burdened with responsibility they wouldn’t wish on others. It could be lonely, even in rooms surrounded by people, but in the confines of his office, bordered on either side by a set start and end time, they were just people— maybe even friends —who could connect over their similar pasts, the love of their home and what it could become in a time of peace.

But he was still the Regent Lord, and she was still a Veilstrider. When their time was up the yearning set in, gnawing at the edges of the solid foundation she’d built for herself. She’d had another friend like this, once. Someone she could go, sit with and truly connect for hours. A comfortable home away from home until she’d fucked it all up trying to make more out of it than she had any right to.

Four years of doing her best not to bother or infringe was enough, perhaps. Three of those years had changed her so much that she knew her many past lives, all lived within this one, would never recognize her. Children had a way of doing that, though.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch?”

She hadn’t hit send, yet. It didn’t feel right. It hadn’t for the hours she’d backspaced it out and rewritten it. Did she need to say her name? He’d never seemed the type to delete people out of his comm unless they’d severely wronged him.

But she had pretty severely wronged him, so maybe.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime? No pressure if not.”

That didn’t feel right either. Too… uncertain.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime”

She left the cursor blinking and stared at the screen a moment before putting the comm down on the coffee table so she could take a break, step out onto the cabin porch for a deep breath of ocean air and get the overthinking under control. This was something she’d worked on. A text wasn’t the end of the world. The worst he could say was no, in his polite way, and that would be that.

Lyn stepped back inside and was immediately hit with a pang of deep dread. Ash smiled at her from the living room, her comm in his tiny hands, awake early from his nap. He loved her comm so much that she’d gotten him a fake one to play with. But, she’d left hers in easy reach, and that quiet, mental chorus of ‘oh no’ verified when she scooped him up and looked at the screen.

“Hi Dice, it’s Lyn. Would you like to get lunch sometime🌿⭐️🧀🧀🧀🙂😒👻🤞//349MMMMMMMMMMMMMMM” Sent, 1:35pm

It was enough to make her laugh, at least. Ash did love the ‘pictures’ and had just smeared his finger across most of the ones that had risen to the top of her favorites, but he had ultimately solved her problem in a way only a child could, and that text did now very much need an explanation.

“Sorry. My son found my comm. Lots to catch up on if you would like @ a place of your choosing.”

@daily-writing-challenge @dicenne

[dicenne]

November DWC Day 3 - Mortality

He had forgotten just how quiet the house could be without his sister Kara around. She had moved out about a year ago now despite his assurances that she was more than welcome to stay as long as she needed. She wanted to give him his space, but mostly she was finally ready for her own space as well. It was comforting knowing that she could make it on her own, and that he didn’t have to worry as much about her. He still would, of course, that was his job. They still visited each other on a regular basis, and would have the occasional sleepover that usually involved barbeque and animal onesies. But he had to admit, he missed having that constant presence in his house. 

Perhaps it wasn’t her specifically, but just having someone around to break the insufferable silence. He dropped the book he had been reading with an annoyed sigh onto his lap and glanced up to the clock on his wall. 8pm. It was still early, yet all he wanted to do was to go to bed and hope that tomorrow morning would rid him of this hollow feeling inside his chest and these creeping thoughts of his own mortality.

Things were, by all accounts, going well in his life. Amberlight Smithing was thriving and had no shortage in work, the Tarts continued to perform in front of crowds all over Azeroth, and the ‘other job’ afforded him small luxuries whenever he desired. Yet here he was, unable to escape his own melancholic feelings and intrusive thoughts.

Even though the two still had a lot of love for each other, Dyra and he had split a while ago. It was neither of their faults, they just never managed to be on the same page. She was still more of a free spirit, and he was ready to settle down and start a family. It had been a long time since he had seen her, and he wasn’t expecting her to show up and work the After Dark show. He had felt that familiar pang of grief when he saw her, and again when she whispered those sweet, loving words into his ear that caught him off guard. 

They eventually departed with the promise to see each other again soon; he by himself, and she - in true Dyra fashion - with a group of others, so he found out later through Ryland. That stung more than he thought it would.

He picked up his comm and flipped through his contacts, pausing on Dyra briefly and considering before continuing to scroll. Everyone he typically would have messaged tonight he already knew to be busy, and even then he wasn’t sure he wanted to bother anyone while he felt this way. He tossed the device across the room onto a chair so he wouldn’t be tempted, nothing good ever came from sad texting. He scooped up the rainbow shawl sitting on his nightstand and pressed it to the lower half of his face, breathing in the scent. Of course it no longer smelled of his late wife, but it was still a comforting gesture. After clicking off his light, he rolled over and attempted to find some sleep. Tomorrow will be better.

@the-purple-elf @succulent-tart​ @rylandfalkov​ @daily-writing-challenge

[talthorn-sylvoran]

November DWC Day 2 - Orbit/Illusion

✧ ✧ ✧ Journey into Eromai Epolomono ✧✧✧ Chapter One

~ Written by Talthorn and Konietzko

Those that were acquainted with the man known as Talthorn Syl'voran, found out very quickly that he was quite the whirlwind of a person! He had an extremely active and inquisitive mind with developed arcane abilities to mystify even those most adept in the craft. And when he was determined about something? You could -feel- it. He was infectious with his enthusiasm and especially his drive in most anything. There were few that ever were drawn into his more focused passions because the language in which he communicated his most complex thoughts and perceptions of the universe was unique to him. It required patience as well as an open mind to absorb his descriptions of the secrets he had unraveled with the help of devoted study and time, to which his twin star in Konietzko had much of. 

With the doors open to take the steps together toward a greater understanding of their abilities, Talthorn wasted no time in making this next chapter happen for the both of them. His countless hours of research and practice sessions in execution could never prepare him for what would be the steps that he allowed himself to take. Since finding more purpose within his life, he no longer looked to the Astral realm as his way to ascend and say goodbye to the physical world forever. He desired to make it an interchangeable part of his existence now. His way of thinking had to shift! Because it encompassed another that meant everything to him but also someone that could walk this path with him. 

Kon's awakening had caused an explosion of life to breathe forth and with every session that he and Talthorn had together it brought enlightenment. The magi was in awe that his beloved was able to feel and conjure these energies in such a natural way, to which Kon did his best to describe the indescribable in the how he was able to do what he could. He had not been able to accept that he had any sort of remarkable talents, because he still believed that his husband had been helping him achieve illusionary results despite his insistence of what he was able to accomplish! How wrong he had been and soon would be reminded of his abilities from times past. And when it was time to go, Talthorn would be brimming with enthusiasm and portals open ready to whisk his beloved to have him believe it for himself! 

The magi had prepared everything for them! Including ensuring they both had a pair of boots which he modified so that they could walk the Astral realm together for a longer period of time. Their starting point one was a familiar area for Talthorn being of titan origin, and he had etched his spells so that the both of them would be able to return to their flow of time properly. This place connected to or 'blessed' by Dreamweaver of Titans from the Pantheon of Order would serve them well in the journey they would have. Only the echo of magic that was once in this place was here, but it could still be sensed by the mortals that had the ability to feel it. Stepping onto this whole different stage, Kon had to put his trust in the magi to get them to where they needed to be first. Explanations of the process and what their plan would be when they got there as they walked the hall would wash over them both with Talthorn's voice, one of which Kon would have heard a couple times by now only having them both smile as they arrived at the starting point together this time. 

For this sort of trip, they were not going to leave physical bodies but have them converted to a form that could walk the realm itself. Such was the brilliance and ability of developed items in this age. "So as we stand..." Talthorn babbles to his beloved as the spell weaves around the both of them as they hold each other's hands. Looking deep into Kon's amber worlds for eyes, the excitement and rare nervousness the magi had remained contained. "...the magic will leave an imprint of us to return to. I also have a time device etched into myself in case we are tempted with other distractions."

Kon listens to every word the other has to share, giving those hands a squeeze and locking into that silvery star gaze. "I understand." he says with a warm confidence. He didn't need to know the exact technicalities of it, only that this would be the place they would return to. How Talthorn ensured that, didn't matter. Not yet anyhow. "When we arrive, we will use our bond to communicate. And I will help guide you as well as I can, to lead in the steps I had before. Always besides each other. Neither of us should be ahead, or behind." Kon was very determined about this fact. 

A firm nod would be cast and as the arcane finished tracing them both with their smiles, he leaned over to share a soft kiss over those warm lips of his husband's to revel in the physical sensation before leaving it for a short time. Their practice words of activation for their magical items uttered, and the Syl'vorans would feel their body be embraced with celestial essence and be transported to their desired realm. All that is left behind, is their glimmering starry statue looking into each other's eyes. 

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Much as one would suspect with arrival to that of a non-physical realm of existence in converted form, to be rather surreal to those that had not experienced it often or at all. Even the very art of moving was different and to Talthorn, was restricted to the very idea of the form he possessed when he left Azeroth! Konietzko realized quickly that even though his husband’s efforts were very kind in making and enhancing these magical boots based on Hazella’s design, that they were actually hindering him from the mobility that he was accustomed to. And while he endured for a time, to help Talthorn understand how to move at all here using these items as a learning device, it was explained shortly after that he would have to remove these restraints if he were to aid them further into this spiritual journey.

Talthorn encouraged his beloved to explain more on the subject of course, and felt no hurt when Kon slipped off these shackles and could indeed maneuver much more freely. Konietzko had a warmth in their bond, telling the other how it confined him to a step or dance. As if he were not permitted to have ones of his own outside the sequence that was known or taught. And while he saw how many could work with this kind of direction, he knew there was more to it. Talthorn was amazed in watching Kon’s ability to walk here, but it was just something as natural as breathing on the physical plane. Time was spent to give the magi more freedom in his step, but he still felt so heavy here. He had not expected to struggle this much.

Finding new ways to help Talthorn, Kon took on a different form. A wisp, something familiar to the both of them. Changing your visage was not uncommon for druids, in both the dream and not. Here on the Astral, it was much the same he found! He described it to his beloved that his form in this place was more of an illusion. That they could become what they envisioned because they were essentially soul and energy here! Returning back to his elven form, he could feel Talthorn understand and those restraints loosening. It would take some time to put this into practice, but the magi was learning so much in what felt like such short hours.

@daily-writing-challenge

[konietzko-sylvoran]

November DWC Day 1 - Instinct/Neglect

✧✧✧ Journey into Eromai Epolomono ✧✧✧ Prologue

- Written By Konietzko and Talthorn

Performer’s high was a real thing, especially in Konietzko’s world. To share it with Talthorn as they got the chance to do one last show together this year, it had been even stronger than usual, lasting even into the days that followed Sax on the Beach. Even as they packed and prepared for their trip to come, he couldn’t help but relive in the memories and the music of their weekend occasionally humming a song or two as they were forever stuck in his head now like so many they’d performed together before. To the world at large, they were known now as the Hearts of Tenacity performing on various stages all over Azeroth, but they were also known for their generous warm hearts they offered to any who came to know them on a more personal level. Still, there were certain things that they kept to themselves. Not because it was a secret but as any married couple could agree, there were just certain aspects of your life that you only chose to share with your forever partners.  For almost a year now, Talthorn and Kon had been making time for special training lessons beyond their daily to dos in life and practices for performances. While their performance lives were rather demanding of their time already, there were aspects of these training sessions that were already starting to show up in their performances together. Many witnessed them at Sax on the Beach as Kon and Tal both showed their astral forms as if hinting at that deeper aspect of their relationship together. Truth was, many had no idea how reserved Kon was to be tapping into this part of himself. His reasons for avoiding his druidic prowess and knowledge was a story all its own that only a few were privy to know as it certainly wasn’t a story so casually told. Yet in this past year he had been returning to his “roots” slowly since the appearance of the tattoo that Talthorn and he both wore now on their opposing wrists. A depiction of that of their own Eromai Epolomono, their galaxy or the common translation of “Heart of Tenacity” was something that neither elf had sought nor any tattoo artist painted on their wrists. It was something that appeared in the peak of discovery for them both of a personal moment in time. The astral plane had been calling to Konietzko as if awakened from its dormant slumber for a time now and Talthorn had dedicated his life to understanding the astral plane and arcane magics going above and beyond what most magi of his time had dared. The consequences of Talthorn’s research had cost him much, but here and now with his husband’s shocking developments that seemed to come about unintentionally, they both had agreed to understand it better, together. Lessons with Talthorn had started out rather tediously, because the truth was that Konietzko had much to learn to even attempt to understand what Talthorn had dedicated his life to researching. So in the beginning, there was much bookwork to be read and digested along with many nights and hours spent listening to Talthorn’s teachings and base knowledge of the realms themselves. Yet as Konietzko progressed his basic understanding of their world and beyond, it was Talthorn who was yet to grasp the physical and emotional part of what had bound them together. And thus was where Konietzko’s understanding of nature magic came to be part of their studies as well as the two elves were bound to understand the limits of how that of the astral and arcane spoke to them both and were quickly developing the longer they were together. While it had lain dormant in Kon, it was mere instinct from a natural attunement to his former life and studies as a druid that made accepting the balance of the astral planes in his own way easy. But trying to understand it enough to teach this physical and emotional connection he had to Talthorn was proving more challenging for him than they’d both hoped. However neglected his practice had been since he stepped away from druidism, his time with Talthorn had speedily reminded him that it was not something one could unlearn nor forget… nor avoid in this case any longer.

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It was because of a gift given by their most dear and trusted friend Ra’hsen that the idea had been proposed by Talthorn for them to take their training to another level. The gift was that of a pair of boots from Hazella’s wagon, ones which could make the wearer step into the astral plane itself without losing themselves. It had been Talthorn’s hope that he could travel there with Kon so the two of them together could research and study what this connection was they shared via the tattoo and the realms that were calling to them. But as this desire to understand could be better understood within the realms themselves, it came at a cost. One that Talthorn was entirely all too aware of in his life. How many countless times he’d left to research new discoveries, only to return back to the world and find that time had passed far greater than he could have imagined. It was what made him so numb to loss and interpersonal relations, and was the very reason he’d vowed not to further his studies in such a manner for fear of losing Kon.

So it was a great surprise when Kon inquired during one of their training sessions that Talthorn knew of a way they could do research together, in a far far shorter time. As dreamy and whimsical as it may be to get lost in the throes of time with one another, it was not practical for either of them! They both had connections to the physical realm of Azeroth as they knew it now. Both of them had relationships in friends and family that they treasured. Talthorn's past research and experiences with Kon's recent solo venture beyond, came up with the result that this venture for the both of them would be only a month, two at the most! This confidence exuded through the magi, that fueled his husband to take those steps toward achieving part of their goal together. Something they couldn’t do here alone, much like Kon's time in the Emerald Dream or Talthorn's glances into the Astral Realm, there were just some planes that were meant to be walked to achieve a stronger understanding and bond with the magic that called to them.  Having agreed that timespan was an acceptable amount to be away, arrangements were properly made as there were aspects of their lives that they couldn’t simply leave behind even for that long. Their son, Ru’lan was the biggest hurdle, along with their moths and the gardens that would need tended to around their home. Their training dojo wasn’t finished yet either, but as their dear friend Ra’hsen had taken to helping them with its construction and they had developed that trust with him already, it only made sense that they ask him to be their caretaker while they were gone. The good doctor knew they were uncertain as to when exactly they’d be back. However, due to the risks and potential unknown that such travel would present to them, they agreed that certain securities would be placed to let Ra’hsen alone know they were okay. An enchanted bracelet was made by Talthorn’s design to be worn that would react too and glow at times to let the reverend know they were alive and well. But because of the planes where they would be traveling they had no way to make it a two way connection, only able to attune it to themselves alone with no means of contact as that sort of magic would need research further before the creation of such was possible. Ru’lan was already quite used to Ra’hsen’s presence especially with how often he stayed with Kon and Tal, and the moths felt a kinship with him too and his own moth so it gave them both comfort to know they’d be well cared for. As Ru’lan was already almost full grown in size, he had alerted the reverend of Bellana and her helping hands should something happen or get out of hand with the ravasaur as the fellow druid of Val’sharah had aided in his care each time the elves had been away for this festival or that performance where they couldn’t risk taking him with them. And that was all the more comfort Kon needed in his head to leave him behind too. Kanyu though, was a whole other story. But the wild wolfhawk had become more and more estranged with Kon as time went on and only came and went as he pleased… he was certain the creature wouldn’t even miss him while he was away as he liked to disappear for great lengths of time as it were. Since there was nothing more booked for them to return too till after the holidays, this was a perfect time to escape on their own. They’d return with plenty of time to enjoy winter's veil with their friends again, no doubt to arrange their infamous white elekk gifting again as they invited those most dear to their home again this year. Plans for Hearts of Tenacity fest would be made after the holidays and announcements would start going out to set a date. Their first anniversary would no doubt be celebrated at the Lunar Festival, and the workings for this year's World’s Faire Carnival were to come as well. It was all set in motion, and perfectly timed. With any luck, they’d return with new abilities, a better understanding of this burning desire that called to them and questions they held for their connection to their eromai epolomono.

@daily-writing-challenge

@talthorn-sylvoran @mxrigen

[way-ofthe-dumpling]

DWC Day 3 Forest - Mortality

A marking vote always meant a night of revelry, drinks bottomless, and memories to be made and forgotten, however, Emveah's night would lead in a different direction. Tomorrow morning was an act of service, the Conspiracy of Ravens had come to learn that one of their more recent members had fallen onto hard times, and their roof was in dire need of repair; Emi was leading a team to get them fixed up and wanted to be fit for the work ahead.

"Smart choices Em." Emveah spoke to herself as she followed the pathway into the forest, a camp pack on her back and eager to get set up before the night's chill set in.

@daily-writing-challenge

[commanderbragh]

Earned

DWC - Nov 21, Day 2 - Illusion

Braghaman yawned. He could hear the crackling of the fireplace, feel its warmth against his feet. He opened his eyes and looked beside him. Niviene was curled up next to him with her head on his shoulder. They held each other’s hand even as they napped, their fingers intertwined. 

“Calm before the storm,” the paladin whispered to no one in particular. “What’d he call it? The pause before for the next world-ending catastrophe.” Bragh sighed and rested his head gently against Niv’s. “I don’t care,” he eventually added. “Others can call it the illusion of peace, angel. But I know we’ve earned our moment.”

@daily-writing-challenge​

[straightouttatheashes]

Illusion

DWC 2022 (November) DAY 2 - ORBIT/ILLUSION

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( Set within Year Two of the timeskip ) The Brightfall Estate was full of life that afternoon. Numerous guests, servants and family friends ( which Phe wasn’t ever sure existed ) roamed the halls, chatting with Cirel and enjoying the small banquet they were hosting. She’d never seen it that busy before...so many people coming and going, genuinely seeming to enjoy each other’s company. Cirel was all smiles and hearty laughter, despite his very weakened state.  It was a breath of fresh air.... And a reality that she knew had never come to pass. “Dispel it.” Pheonix whispered to her brother, and he side-glanced her - golden eyes now slightly dim.  “Are you sure?” She sighed and her gaze shifted to him for just a moment, the strain apparent in his expression as he kept up the illusion in front of them that swept over the entire estate, including out to the beautiful gardens and walkways where guests continued to roam. “...Yeah. Before your head pops or something.” A soft chuckle was added, trying to lighten the mood as her brother scoffed, though didn’t protest. He hadn’t been performing strong illusions like this one for long....he was quite out of practice.  Slowly, Pheonix watched as everything around them disappeared, beyond the quiet and empty walls of their former estate. She watched as Cirel’s conversation dimmed down, and the man he had been talking to faded out of sight...along with their father. Servants soon just became faint traces of magic, lingering in the air, before they too disappeared completely. Both siblings stood in silence, unsure of what to say.  “....It’s exactly how I thought it would have been.” Pheonix mumbled softly. “Felt like...I was really there, y’know?” Leaning against a pillar, she glanced back inside from where they’d been standing out on the patio - the gardens in front of them the only remainder of the reality Aeriden had been controlling moments ago. “Oh, I don’t know. I probably shouldn’t have added a few certain guests...” Her brother smirked, a hint to one of the Lord’s that the two clearly thought was a bit pompous for his own good - but was once a good friend of their father’s.  “Hey...it was all pretend right? Least we didn’t actually have to deal with his ass.” Phe laughed...and then that laughter died out. Pretend.  They had to pretend... “I really thought dad was gonna be around for his birthday this year...” She couldn’t help but let a crack in her voice escape - trying her best to force any emotions away. Aeriden didn’t need to see her cry.  “I know.” His hand moved to her shoulder, and he pulled his sister in for a gentle hug. “Do you remember how happy he looked at your wedding though? I know you weren’t there when I took him to Dalaran with me...but he was estatic knowing that I’d be studying there. I think all he wanted, was to see us happy in our own lives.” Pheonix was quiet for a moment, before she pressed herself into her brother, hugging him tightly. “It sucks. It feels...weird that we’re not gonna come back to this. Nothing’s gonna be like it was and we’d just...I dunno? Fixed it..”

Aeriden’s gaze slowly lifted out towards the gardens. Memories of their childhood, of his teenage and adult years flooded his mind. “I know.” He repeated again. They’d already emptied the estate of any valuables, sharing them between each other. Pheonix and Barry had made preparations, and had already found their own place - it’s location unknown to him. Like his new place in Dalaran was unknown to them, for now at least. His business had been sold, and the estate put up for sale.  They’d only taken a small amount of time that day, to come back and relive a celebration that unfortunately would never happen. Perhaps they needed that, though. A last moment of closure and rememberance for what could have been. As Pheonix had said, her brother had made the illusion so close to a time where things would have been normal. For a short time, at least.  “We’re gonna see you next week...right?” After a moment, Pheonix spoke again, breaking Aeriden from his thoughts. “Course. Same time in Dalaran. Is Barry coming?” He looked down at his sister with a small smile. “Should be. You know he won’t miss out on a chance to get on your nerves.” She grinned back at him, stepping away now and quickly wiping her eyes free of any tears that happened to escape. Pull it together.

“Oh, I bet.” Aeriden rolled his eyes. “Have a safe trip home. I’ll message you tomorrow.”

Phe nodded, giving him a pat on the arm before turning to head back inside - one last walk through the estate before she left it behind for good. “Oh!” She paused briefly in the doorway, glancing back to address her brother once more. “Thanks...Aeri.”

“...You’re welcome, Phe.”

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