#exert

[zebastiannn]

Just a bittersweet jayke short story. <33

[byoldervine]

Persephone’s Power - A brief exert from my first draft of Unholy War

The thought causes my eyes to wander up to the rooftops, reminiscing on the time after I discovered my power. I got bold, I wanted to run across the rooftops like some kind of superhero. I think I was about ten when I worked up the courage to start trying. Had a good few failed attempts, but it worked eventually. I’m able to run about up there without many worries now, or at least I was the last time I attempted it.

And then of course after some time I started to grow accustomed enough to it to take matters into my own hands. I knew what happened. I knew I’d come back from it. As crazy as it sounds, it never seemed so much of a big deal to me after that. It was just… visiting Nexus the old fashioned way, so to speak.

And as I finally approach my grandparents’ street, I pass the very spot where it happened for the first time. The road isn’t so busy here today, only the occasional car or two passing by. They’re not stopping. There’s no screech of the breaks while the driver panics and swerves just a little too late. There’s no distant scream from my nan as she finally realises I’ve wandered into the road. There’s no moment of frozen terror where I’m just barely registering what’s about to happen, but I can’t do anything to move out of harm’s way.

I was nine years old when that car crash marked my first death.

[great-and-small]

I was walking on a rather remote beach when I came upon this Whip eel drying up in the sun. These are intertidal eels that can actually handle themselves out of water for a bit, but it’s not normal for them to be fully exposed in direct sunlight like this. The tide was at least six hours from coming in and I felt like this eel was in distress, so I made the decision to dig him out and return to the ocean. His body was too delicate to be simply pulled from the hole without injury, so I got to digging.

This endeavor took about 40 minutes as the eel was quite long and difficult to excavate. Also had to continually refill my temporary eel pond to keep him from drying out entirely while I worked.

If you are an eel aficionado like myself, please enjoy this silly little video of the relocation process set to some jaunty royalty-free disco music.

[malakkc-poetry]

Accolade for my poem: Life Captured

[marisasonoftom-blog]

[cpanther]

They traded, apple for device. “No. I would have if I’d known.” He bit into his own apple and chewed. “What would it take for me to learn the real story?”

“You don’t want the truth. No one does. The fiction is more interesting.”

“Why because your oragine story is like so many others, you were born on a farm, fell in love with some country maid got married, had a couple of kids and then realized that you hated it, left her high and dry and come to the big city?”

Scáth looked over. “Is that your past?”

The other laughed. “No. I heard it plenty in the Black Serpents. It seemed every new recruit had the same sad story. I was born as a poor boy on a farm.”

“Well I wasn’t.”

“Ah then you fall into the other category. Born to a whore, when you were of age you took to the streets, picked a few pockets and realized you had some skill so he tried for something larger.”

Scáth laughed softly. “Again no.”

Taibhse chewed on some apple. “Ah then you must be the third. Less common, born to wealth.”

“Stop I’ve heard that one too. And no. I wasn’t born poor, but I did want to marry. I wasn’t born rich, I wasn’t born on a farm or to a whore.”

“Then your story is already more interesting.”

To him maybe. “Since your so interested I’ll tell you what Jareld and Frenk know.”

Taibhse made a face. “But they don’t know the real story.”

“No, they know the parts I’m wiling to share.”

“Why did the other guy, the one who died know the real story?”

Scáth took a slow breath. He could make up just about anything, but he’d never been one to make up a tale least of all to impress. He might create a story to cover his ass, he might even do it to make sure someone else took the fall but there was no call for that here. “Because he was my uncle. I’ll give you this much. I was born in a dark elf community.

Not a long one today but I rather like it.

[yesterdayswordle]

[milomaesa]

Hymns of an Empire: Stahli-Prologue

Mavis sipped his fruity tea as he balanced a leather bound book on his stomach. Xyon Vr’Solen wrote the best planetary medical journals. This particular one was well worn around the edges. He had read it many times before. The leather lounge creaked as he shifted to set his tea down. He heard her coming but really couldn’t be bothered to sit up.

Mayve was in a rare state of dress, a gossamer white gown of silk. “Hello brother.” She sat across from him in an armchair.

“Out with it.”

“I saw your petition to sire, you want to take Eatilli from me.”

Mavis raised a brow. “And?”

Her lips pursed. “I thought we had an agreement that I don't go after yours and you don’t go after mine.”

Mavis shut his book and had a sip of tea before responding. “Call it a personal interest.”

"Keen on ignoring our accord more like.”

“Only informally, you and I both know you don’t have a plan for the planet.”

“You’re guessing.”

Mavis smirked. “You are taking their heiress hostage, despite the fact that you haven’t determined if their monarchy is anything more than the surface level or any of their political structures. You then intend to begin immigration and education with the long term goal of turning them into soldiers for the Winter Court. Again without putting any effort into grasping their structures or cultures.”

Mayve flicked a hand out casually. “They will be elevated, we can’t have fae living in such primitive cities.”

“Never occurred to you to ask them if they even want to be elevated?” Mavis asked. “You know how well it goes when you don’t.”

“They will, they are already open to trading.”

“Never occurred to ask why?” He smiled again as his sister's cheeks started to heat.

“Speak plainly, I tire of this game.”

Mavis laughed a full bodied thing. “I don’t think I shall. Give the planet to me sister, I’ll see to it you’re appropriately compensated. Morlen perhaps?”

She snapped to attention. “What is so fine that Eatilli is on equal footing as Morlen?”

“Nothing as of yet and it will always be nothing under your stewardship.” Mavis opened his book to the page he had been reading. Curiosity would get the better of her, this conversation was over.

“Fine, I’ll bring it to our sire and have ownership papers drawn. Good evening brother.”

“Good evening Mayve, treat your pet well or we will be renegotiate price.” Mavis sipped his tea and laid back as his sister stormed out of the study.

[carrotsnake]

"bill escapes the theraprism / must live in the mystery shack as the next part of his program" genre of billford fanfics are well and good, but has anyone considered the inverse: by some interdimensional mistake, ford is trapped as a patient in the theraprism. the pines family must find a way to save him meanwhile bill is OVER THE MOON. takes every opportunity to be the worst cellmate ever, sabotaging him to get him sent to the wellness void etc... shit now i wanna write it

[hussyknee]

my disabled ass, after (1)good day: "obviously I am cured. in fact it may have all been in my head. who can say? now to rejoin society!"

me, the next day: "it has come to my attention that i may be chronically ill."

[chubbychiquita]

[malakkc-poetry]

Ramadan

[cpanther]

“Now I have an idea how you can capitalize on this problem you have. Plenty of adventures come through right? A nod. “And ever so many years someone new takes up one of the pre-dug dungeons or creates a new one?” Another nod. “Why not charge the adventures a fee. Make it a guided tour, they pay for your time and you in turn show them around, explain what they might face. If you wanted to add a bit of spice you could employ some of the lads, have them dress like monsters, give the adventures trick weapons so they can’t hurt the towns folk. Then you can pay the actors for their time out of the collected fees, the adventures walk out with bragging right, and their lives. Throw some crap into a chest at the end so they feel like they’ve earned a prize.”

Those who’d gathered while he spoke like the idea. “We could market it, a dungeon for every adventure. Get a taste for dungeon diving in the beginner levels. Been around a while test your skill on the more advanced dungeon.”

“I’d call it something other than a dungeon dive.”

“What about a dungeon crawl?” Someone offered. “Don’t want to confuse people of course. This isn’t for real.”

That would work. “But it would let those inexperienced to learn a thing or two, in a safe environment. Plus you could make money off it, and keep the real villains out.”

The guards rubbed his chin with his metal mitten. “You know, that’s a hell of an idea. It’ll take some work and a way to get things going but… I think it might just solve a lot of our problems. We could change things depending on the season, keep things fresh with new monsters. Hell we might be able to save our village with this.”

Scáth agreed. “People would come from all over, wanting to have a bit of a thrill, without the risk, the inn would house them the shops would offer them supplies they’d need, you just have to be sure they don’t bring real weapons in.”

“There are some dangerous things in the forest, we could bring in a few of them, have the party kill them off and then show them the chest which has magic weapons in it, but they’ll only work here.” He shrugged. “We’ll get to work. Plan to stick around a bit?”

“Only long enough to relax a bit more and give my horse a chance to rest.” He vowed before sitting back to enjoy the remainders of his meal.

[chronicallydragons]

Very rude that fun spoons are still spoons