#sci-fi writer

[calliecwrites]

Attraction

Humans are weird. You don’t need me to tell you that. They’re stuck in one fixed form, their bodies get sick and age against their will, and physical damage disrupts them so much they stop existing. They’re made of meat. But the weirdest part is this ‘love’ thing they always talk about. I’ve read about it in books – I’ve read about it in lots of books – but I still don’t get it. How does it happen? What does it feel like? What does it feel like to be on the receiving end? Could a lump of meat ever love a blob of goo that can turn into anything?

It was my friend’s idea. She doesn’t see why I find this so interesting, but she’s always one to come up with a plan: try it. Find a human I like, take on a form and persona I think they might like, and see what happens. Repeat.

So I did. But there are rules for this kind of thing, and the most important is: never go back to the same human twice.

You can see where this is going.

See, I got hooked. It was pure luck that I found her. She was a world. She was many worlds. Her eyes lit up with the stories she told. She learned to shapeshift in her dreams, because the real world didn’t give her that option. I wished I could join her there, see what she saw. She was a shifter at heart – fluid as the ocean, wild as the wind – even more than I was. And the beauty and the tragedy of it, that she was born in flesh, but dared to dream anyway – how could I stay away?

Oh, I followed all the other rules. I followed them to a tee. I even tried other humans, at least to start with. But they weren’t her. So I went back, again and again, as the extroverted girl, as the quiet boy, as the older woman who’d seen the world, even as a stray cat living in her neighbourhood. And every time, when things started to happen, I did what I was supposed to do: I left, quietly and gently, before we got so close that leaving would hurt her. It’s not you, it’s me. If only she knew.

But rules are there for a reason. She started to think there was something wrong with her – why, whenever she got close to someone, did they always leave? What was I to do? Going back would hurt her more. Staying away was tearing me apart.

So I broke the biggest rule of all. I told her everything. I showed her what I was. Humans don’t like shifters – we learn that early on. But she laughed and cried and hugged me, and said she should have known, somehow – how had she not seen it, she said. It didn’t matter to her that I was goo, not meat. She chose me.

And me? I’m… comfortable. Is that love? It doesn’t sound like love as the humans describe it: the romance, the butterflies (butterflies?) – most of that is still a mystery to me. But I won’t be leaving her again.

Still, every time I change form, every time I turn fluid, she watches and smiles. She wishes she could join me. Is that possible? Can a human become a shifter? She gave me the gift of acceptance – could I give this gift to her? No one I ask knows. But the legends say it’s true. And the humans have a saying: that love conquers all. If anyone can find a way, we will. And through good or bad, rain or shine, we’ll do it together.

Also on Reddit, on Instagram.

[lesbunnian]

Introduction

Hello Writeblr! After much consideration and building of courage I realize that I technically am an Indie Writer and should be more on Writeblr. So here is me renewing my Pinned Post to make it a Writeblr introduction! I am Lesbunnian, known as Bun or Ulmaria, or even more names personally (Any/All pronouns). I am 21+ and graduated college for Graphic Design. All of my writings and creative works fall under the name of Meadow of a Rabbit! A dimensional space where all of my stories take place big or small. And I post the rough drafts of my works on Wattpad and Fictionpress. Before editing them myself and graphically designing them to become special Editions that I sell on Gumroad!

I mostly write fantasy and maybe sci-fi with a lot of representation and I tend to dip into darker topics. So I often have trigger warning before my stories for everyone's comfort. As a Black Genderfluid Pansexual myself I prioritize a diverse cast with diverse personalities and

My storytelling Carrd holds all of the info regarding Meadow of a Rabbit. and my lesbunnian carrd is more for commissioning artwork from me! Meadow of a Rabbit Carrd

Lesbunnian Carrd

Currently large stories wise I am working on 5 large works. All concept docs available on the Meadow of a Rabbit Carrd but I'll shall give brief explanations of each work and their content.

Apothecary Adagio is a Young Adult Fantasy Romance that stars Floria Faustus. A 31 year old ex-noblemon turned singer who investigates the town of Sunmire due to a high reporting of attacks by the terrorfiying creatures that roam their world, Zokaets. And how the Apothecary who owns a famous Atelier to see how they fit in the investigation.

CoLoR-LeS is an Adult Sci-Fantasy that stars Zephyr. A Blank who protects Alabaster Town within the isolated City called Void City. That after the fall of the problematic previous governing figure, the Triad, has fallen into a war between there factions trying to take over Void City: The Church of Saffron, The Knights of Amrin, and the Revolt of Caera. Zephyr who has forgotten their past but knows its their duty to protect all blanks finds themself in the middle of this conflict.

Grace of Wind is the Sequel to my already completed book, Tear of Ice. Taking place 6 years after Carmine's adventure, her friend Rio is called back home to his country of Itrora by his siblings. Only to be dragged into a conflict by the very political climate he abandoned all those years ago. With his family at stake Rio must set aside his own pride in order to protect whats more important.

Arcane Eclipse is an Adult Fantasy Story that stars Saule Alenov, a young person with an unremarkable life. A failing art career and a struggling home life, they mourn their dead friend, Gwyn with Gwyn's own father. But yet things become much more complicated than anyone could've forseen.

And Finally.

I , of course, work on smaller stories and other ideas as I go that are all shared and given sneak peeks and updates on my Patreon.

I also Roleplay! I have a canon character multiuse blog as @etgloria

Have a blog for Drakengard 3's Two at @venusphacelia

An oc multimuse at @amorfati-rp

And finally a rp blog for my original character and main character of Libraria Daffodil @booksofthelibrary

I do alot and am everywhere. But I hope this is a good introduction and tat I can finally start accepting myself as a writer. Thank you all for the support small or large. and I do plan to do more in the future. (Also thank you @coffeeandcalligraphy for being a nice source of comfort for me. I highly recommend her channel for people who struggle to acknowledge their writing skills) And I believe that everything for now. So Goodbye! and Remember, Be Kind.

[theplotmage]

Principles and Laws of Magic for Fantasy Writers

Fundamental Laws

1. Law of Conservation of Magic- Magic cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed.

3. Law of Equivalent Exchange- To gain something, an equal value must be given.

5. Law of Magical Exhaustion- Using magic drains the user’s energy or life force.

Interaction and Interference

4. Law of Magical Interference- Magic can interfere with other magical effects.

6. Law of Magical Contamination- Magic can have unintended side effects.

8. Law of Magical Inertia- Magical effects continue until stopped by an equal or greater force.

Resonance and Conditions

7. Law of Magical Resonance- Magic resonates with certain materials, places, or times.

9. Law of Magical Secrecy- Magic must be kept secret from the non-magical world.

11. Law of Magical Hierarchy- Different types of magic have different levels of power and difficulty.

Balance and Consequences

10. Law of Magical Balance- Every positive magical effect has a negative consequence.

12. Law of Magical Limitation- Magic has limits and cannot solve every problem.

14. Law of Magical Rebound- Misused magic can backfire on the user.

Special Conditions

13. Law of Magical Conduits- Certain objects or beings can channel magic more effectively.

15. Law of Magical Cycles- Magic may be stronger or weaker depending on cycles (e.g., lunar phases).

17. Law of Magical Awareness- Some beings are more attuned to magic and can sense its presence.

Ethical and Moral Laws

16. Law of Magical Ethics- Magic should be used responsibly and ethically.

18. Law of Magical Consent- Magic should not be used on others without their consent.

20. Law of Magical Oaths- Magical promises or oaths are binding and have severe consequences if broken.

Advanced and Rare Laws

19. Law of Magical Evolution- Magic can evolve and change over time.

20. Law of Magical Singularities- Unique, one-of-a-kind magical phenomena exist and are unpredictable.

Unique and Imaginative Magical Laws

- Law of Temporal Magic- Magic can manipulate time, but with severe consequences. Altering the past can create paradoxes, and using time magic ages the caster rapidly.

- Law of Emotional Resonance- Magic is amplified or diminished by the caster’s emotions. Strong emotions like love or anger can make spells more powerful but harder to control.

- Law of Elemental Harmony- Magic is tied to natural elements (fire, water, earth, air). Using one element excessively can disrupt the balance and cause natural disasters.

- Law of Dream Magic- Magic can be accessed through dreams. Dreamwalkers can enter others’ dreams, but they risk getting trapped in the dream world.

- Law of Ancestral Magic- Magic is inherited through bloodlines. The strength and type of magic depend on the caster’s ancestry, and ancient family feuds can influence magical abilities.

- Law of Symbiotic Magic- Magic requires a symbiotic relationship with magical creatures. The caster and creature share power, but harming one affects the other.

- Law of Forgotten Magic- Ancient spells and rituals are lost to time. Discovering and using forgotten magic can yield great power but also unknown dangers.

- Law of Magical Echoes- Spells leave behind echoes that can be sensed or traced. Powerful spells create stronger echoes that linger longer.

- Law of Arcane Geometry- Magic follows geometric patterns. Spells must be cast within specific shapes or alignments to work correctly.

- Law of Celestial Magic- Magic is influenced by celestial bodies. Spells are stronger during certain astronomical events like eclipses or planetary alignments.

- Law of Sentient Magic- Magic has a will of its own. It can choose to aid or hinder the caster based on its own mysterious motives.

- Law of Shadow Magic- Magic can manipulate shadows and darkness. Shadowcasters can travel through shadows but are vulnerable to light.

- Law of Sympathetic Magic- Magic works through connections. A spell cast on a representation of a person (like a doll or portrait) affects the actual person.

- Law of Magical Artifacts- Certain objects hold immense magical power. These artifacts can only be used by those deemed worthy or who possess specific traits.

- Law of Arcane Paradoxes- Some spells create paradoxes that defy logic. These paradoxes can have unpredictable and often dangerous outcomes.

- Law of Elemental Fusion- Combining different elemental magics creates new, hybrid spells with unique properties and effects.

- Law of Ethereal Magic- Magic can interact with the spirit world. Ethereal mages can communicate with spirits, but prolonged contact can blur the line between life and death.

- Law of Arcane Symbiosis- Magic can bond with technology, creating magical machines or enchanted devices with extraordinary capabilities.

- Law of Dimensional Magic- Magic can open portals to other dimensions. Dimensional travelers can explore alternate realities but risk getting lost or encountering hostile beings.

- Law of Arcane Sacrifice- Powerful spells require a sacrifice, such as a cherished memory, a personal item, or even a part of the caster’s soul.

[ghoulishbuck]

Once again sharing my Queer Writers discord server especially because the NaNo forums are currently down for good reasons.

Anyone that writes and is apart of the lgbtq+ community is welcome to join.

[cy-cyborg]

What able bodied authors think I, an amputee and a wheelchair user, would want in a scifi setting:

Tech that can regenerate my old meat legs.

Robot legs that work just like meat legs and are functionally just meat legs but robot

Literally anything that would mean I don't have to use a wheelchair.

If I do need to use a wheelchair, make it fly or able to "walk me" upstairs

What I actually want:

Prosthetic covers that can change colour because I'm too indecisive to pick one colour/pattern for the next 5+ years.

A leg that I can turn off (seriously, my above knee prosthetic has no off switch... just... why?)

A leg that won't have to get refitted every time I gain or loose weight.

A wheelchair that I can teleport to me and legs I can teleport away when I'm too tired to keep walking. And vice versa.

In that same vein, legs I can teleport on instead of having to fiddle around with the sockets for half an hour.

Prosthetic feet that don't require me to wear shoes. F*ck shoes.

Actually accessible architecture, which means when I do want to use my wheelchair, it's not an issue.

Prosthetic legs with dragon-claw feet instead of boring human feet or just digigrade prosthetics that are just as functional as normal human-shaped ones.

A manual wheelchair with the option to lift my seat up like those scissor-lift things so I'm not eye-level with everyone's butt on public transport/so I can reach the top shelf by myself.

A prosthetic foot that lights up when it hits the ground like those children's shoes.

A few additions I remember seeing in the comments on my old account:

holographic prosthetic covers

transformers-style mobility aids that can fold into the shapes of different aids (e.g. a wheelchair that can fold into a cane)

prosthetic covers with pockets/hidden compartments (kind of surprised this isn't a thing already).

find my leg (like find my iphone, but for your legs when you haven't worn them in a while lol)

TLDR: Stop assuming every disabled person would want to be as close to "normal" as possible in your works. Some absolutely would and having options for them if fine, but I rarely see any examples of media showing those of us who don't. start letting amputees in your scifi works have fun with our prosthetics, fix the problems real amputees are already talking about instead of what you think are the issues and make your settings as a whole accessible!

[calliecwrites]

Father Time

They called him evil, in the beginning, when he seized control. His armies crushed all who opposed him. His bombs made cities wastelands. Heroes fought him and died. And when all his enemies were destroyed, the world finally had unity and peace.

But that could never be enough for him. He sought out the greatest sources of power, and made them part of himself. He grew beyond what even his worshippers imagined. He made himself the soul of everything. Then, for a time, he rested – and with the new day, his new age began.

Sometimes he was a kind god. Sometimes he was a vengeful god. Good and evil were meaningless now. He walked among the people a thousand times in a thousand forms. He guided species on a million worlds from the dust to the stars and back into the dust. He took them to heights and depths undreamed. Matter and life were his to shape. All of space was his. Galaxies were young compared to him. People forgot there had ever been a time when he was not there.

This was his just reward, and he was content. Or, almost: in an infinite universe, anything that could happen would happen eventually, and he was waiting for the universe to give him an equal.

But it had been so long. He began to lose hope – if hope was a word that could even apply to one such as him. The despair of a god was a terrible thing. The universe was winding down, now; stars were going out beyond even his ability to repair, and he was still alone. Maybe he had been wrong, and there could be only one god. Maybe he was waiting for the impossible.

Until there, at the very end of days, the void moved.

Also on Instagram.

Currently obsessed with the idea of the villain winning and becoming a god and everything, but living on for millions of years. After power's allure fades, and everyone who once opposed them is dead and forgotten, and civilisations have risen and fallen, what's left?

Just think about it- They've been happy, they've done everything, it's not a hollow victory in any way. It's just been... So, so very long.

[skeletonmob]

Second attempt at trying to advertise my game! More details under the cut.

Old Haunts

Old Haunts - DEMO

For the past few years, Hunter Greene has been saving money for his transition. But his dreams are dashed just as he approaches the finish line, when the powers that be block the biotech company that he was going to transition with. All hope is not lost however, as his manager, a robot named Aster, has been brewing something behind the scenes for quite a while now . . .

Old Haunts is a choose your own adventure style visual novel set in an alternate, cyberpunk-esque present. There are a total of six different endings, each route taking about 3-4 hours to play through, depending on how fast you read. I wanted to do multiple things with this project. Including commenting on the current wave of transphobia in our society and also try my hand at making a proper choose your own adventure style game. Something that didn't boil down to 'do you want to be a good person and rescue the puppy? or do you want to be a bad person and murder the puppy?'.

[lauferisms]

Monica's Weird, My First Novella!

Do you like Dark Science Fantasy, unconventional protagonists, and the storytelling of games like Half-Life?

Well, I just published my first novella! If you can spare a few dollars, I'd be happy to read your thoughts!

It's about a dystopia, a fairy, and Monica, the emotionless girl tying them all together.

[humanoidhistory]

"Science fiction is the art of the possible."

—Ray Bradbury, born on this day in 1920

[preservationofnormalcy]

[My name is Meghan Hendricks, and I’m about to do something stupid.]

[I’ve scheduled my work to be sent to my superior in the federal government’s oversight committee unless I stop it in one week. A dead woman’s hand. It’ll be somewhat fruitless - I’ve begun to suspect that my work will be restricted, censored, and buried like most other things the Office does.

A lot of the people I talk to are exculpatory of the Office, even if they say they have questions or concerns. I think most of them mean it. I don’t think it’s brainwashing. I think in such a tighly knit community as the supernatural world people feel a more genuine sense of belonging than they might otherwise. A werewolf helping werewolves is going to understandably try and defend the hand that deals the help, even if they’ve bit it in the past. But one thing I’ve learned as I’ve been peeling up rocks and seeing what scurries away is that something isn’t right. Something is hiding in plain sight.

Most people don’t know about it. They can feel the shape of it, the outline the absence of something makes. Some people, however, do know. At least a little. I’ve seen them avoid questions, look away, end interviews. I can see it in their eyes. They know enough to not want to know more.

All of that brings me here, to the backwoods of upstate New York. I’m dressed in all black, wearing a mask and gloves. My clothing smells of peppermint, and in my bag is a bottle of peppermint oil. It stung my eyes and, before I got the dilution right, burned my skin. I look in my car’s rear view mirror and it hits me that I look ridiculous. I don’t know for sure why the factory foreman Barry warned me about the peppermint, but I had a theory. 

For the last few minutes I’d seen the shape rising into the air, the metal tower with red lights up its length. That was where I needed to be. The highway was thankfully bare, at this time of night. As was the turn-off onto an unmarked gravel road, only distinguishable by the Office’s symbol on a plastic sign, held up on a thin metal spike. I’d learned by now that the broader public couldn’t see the Office logos and signage until they’d been exposed to the extranormal, something the Office calls “memetic masking.” I was, in their terminology, memetically inoculated, and it was that fact that ironically helped me find the path. The gravel road went into the forest, but I pulled over past the road’s entry, into the small area of grass down past the turnoff. I pulled a tarp from my car and threw it over the vehicle, once again feeling ludicrous…and frankly, a little scared. 

The hike was about twenty minutes, mostly uphill on a gentle incline, the numbers station being built on a hill. I’d done worse, but not in a while. I could see pretty well in the light of the full moon, a fact that made me a little more nervous. I walked along the edge of the gravel road, in the dark - hiking onto a government facility, my nerves went wild. Every shift of leaves meant an agent clad in camo, every whip of wind causing a noise that made me think of the things I’d seen since I began this assignment. Not this assignment, I had to remind myself. This wasn’t part of it. Not really.

I saw the fence in the distance first - an eight foot chain link fence that stretched as far as I could see in either direction. Past the fence, I could see dark buildings, giant spools of wire, and above it all the metal tower of the station. I hadn’t exactly planned for this, even though I knew it was more than likely. The handheld cutters in my back pocket were ready, but something in me didn’t want to cut the links, even if I fully intended to pass the fence. Getting in some other way could be a blunder, accidental. Cutting the chain meant intent.]

C] 1 15 12 24 2 12 12 21 16 26 1 15 12 22 21 19 6 26 2 25 3 16 3 22 25

[The voice almost made me vomit. I spun and saw a man. Disheveled, haggard, an unkempt beard and long hair. Older, in his 50’s, but being dirty and ragged made him look even older. He didn’t even look at me, mumbling numbers so fast I could only understand them later once I slowed them down in my recording. After his string of digits he stood there, looking at the fence, then back to me. In the moon’s light I saw his dirty, torn jumpsuit, the logo for the Office on the man’s arm and chest, along with an embroidered nametag - Cecil.]

M] Wh- who are you? What are you doing here? 

C] 4 12 25 16 23 23 12 11 22 2 1 1 15 12 23 8 25 1 22 13 2 26 1 15 8 1 18 21 22 4 26 16 1 26 9 25 22 18 12 21

[His stare was distant, vacant. It was a shock when his hand moved suddenly, pointing upward to the moon. It took me a second to realize what he was saying, and when I did, it confirmed my suspicions.]

M] Here? Now? 

C] 1 15 12 6 19 19 23 2 21 16 26 15 15 16 20 13 22 25 19 16 3 16 21 14 1 15 25 22 2 14 15 16 1

[With that, he turned and walked away. He looked back once, pausing as if making sure I was following - which, despite my better judgment, I did. I attempted to ask him some more questions, trying to understand who he was or why he was here, but he didn’t respond. Not even with his numbers. 

After a moment of walking by the fence, we walked away from it, down the hill. A steep path, rocky and unstable, that he navigated with ease. It was only after climbing down past a tree and a rocky face that I noticed “Cecil” backtracking up a few steps. A huge drainage pipe jutted out from the hillside, hidden from above by rocks and plants. A piece of wood in the pipe was the only flimsy protection, and without hesitation Cecil pulled it aside and bent over to climb inside. Here I was, in the middle of the woods, about to climb into a dirty tunnel to a strange old man’s bunker. 

I could hear a match catch fire just as I stepped down onto a concrete floor and stood up past the metal pipe. The space was small, a concrete box that ended in a pile of rubble. It must have been the entrance to an underground section of the complex at one point, but now was only a covered shelter. A camp stove, a bed, an orderly pile of refuse. He was living hard out here, but he was living. Cecil put the match into an old oil lantern and held it up to one wall. ]

C] 13 16 21 16 1 12 2 21 16 3 12 25 26 12 13 16 21 16 1 12 1 22 22 19 26 4 12 19 22 22 18 12 11 9 12 6 22 21 11

[All over the concrete wall, pasted or taped, were papers. Mainly old documents from the Office, with the Office logo watermarked on their corners. Many of them featured heavy black redaction bars. Some were torn, upside down. Cut in patterns, circled with heavy marker lines. I’d seen things like this in movies, of course. The stereotypical red string and thumbtacks on corkboard. This was different, however. When I looked over the collage I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t a man trying to figure things out. He’d already figured it out, in his own way, and this was some kind of…archive. Memorial. A reminder. I looked at him, and he looked down to the floor. In shame? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. I scanned the wall again, trying to find some order.  

‘Numbers Station 23 Decommissioned By Order Of Reality Compliance Council.’ ���Bulletin From Director Walker On Directive 61722.’ ‘Los Angeles–’ the last one was torn off.]

C] 26 15 12 16 26 14 22 21 12 13 22 25 12 3 12 25 26 15 12 11 16 11 21 22 1 11 16 12

M] What is all this? Who ARE you?

C] 1 15 12 23 25 16 21 10 16 23 8 19 16 1 6 4 16 19 19 8 3 12 21 14 12 15 12 25

M] Listen, I – I don’t want numbers. Can you speak?

C] 15 16 26 13 2 1 2 25 12 16 26 2 21 18 21 22 4 8 9 19 12 8 21 11 1 15 2 26 16 21 13 16 21 16 1 12

M] You used to work for the Office…at the numbers station? This numbers station? Is that why you can only –

C] 4 12 18 16 19 19 12 11 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 1 22 26 1 22 23 15 16 20

[I must admit to some frustration. I scan the wall again. None of it made sense. Clearly it did to Cecil, otherwise he wouldn’t have saved all of this. Was the numbers station related to…what happened to my brother? Phrases leap out at me: ‘reality compliance’, ‘the equation’, ‘project dammerung.’ That last one was…all over. There were scraps, shreds with the phrase, but all of it redacted.]

M] What is this? Project Dammerung? 

C] 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 4 12 8 23 22 21 13 22 25 1 15 12 2 19 1 16 20 8 1 12 13 12 8 25

M] I don’t…I don’t have time for this. You know why I’m here. Are you going to help me, or not?

[Cecil was silent for once, looking around hesitantly, and finally back to the floor. I give him a moment to respond, and when he remains silent, I take in a breath.]

M] Right. Thank you, Mister…Cecil. I’ll…

[He raises his hand, almost as if he wanted to grab my arm, but was too timid. Raising the lantern to a section of the wall, he gestured to a particular document, from Office Security, or O-Sec. A photo of a serious-looking Asian-American man, Corporal Han. Most of the document was blacked out. Was this a warning? I take in the wall one last time, and drop my bag so I can reach for my camera. A polaroid - no digital trail, no getting the photos developed. With a click I snapped a photo of the wall. 

A noise distracted me. I turned, and Cecil was going through my bag.]

M] Uhh…sir? Cecil? 

[He stopped, looking up at me in almost surprise, as if he’d forgotten I was even there. ]

C] 1 15 12 12 20 16 26 26 8 25 6 26 14 25 8 21 11 11 8 2 14 15 1 12 25 4 16 19 19 1 8 18 12 15 16 26 23 19 8 10 12

[He slid the bag back over to me. I couldn’t figure out what he was looking for, but it didn’t matter now. I needed to get out of there. I put the camera back in, quickly checking that nothing was missing, and backed up towards the pipe.]

M] I know you showed me this for a reason. I’ll figure out how it all adds up, I promise. 

[I enter the pipe again, leaving the old man holding his lantern.]

M] Thank you.

[When I turn away, he looks to his wall one more time. 

I emerge alone into the moonlight, attempting the climb back up the hill. Though I had more scraps of information, I was back at square one, or so I thought. When I reached the top and made it back to the fence, I saw a section of the chain link that had broken, detached from the pole nearby and bent away, covered in a bush that only kept it half hidden. This must be where Cecil still entered the facility. 

The gap in the fence opened up into what seemed to be a storage yard, the place I’d seen past the fence earlier. Piles of tarp-covered metal or wood beams, spools of wire as tall as I was. In the moonlight, I could see poles dotting the yard, cables stretched between them, each one bearing a floodlight. Though everything had been organized and put away securely, I got the feeling no one official had been here in a long time. Leaves covered most surfaces, and cobwebs shone in the dim light along the roof of a nearby shed. 

Again, it struck me that I didn’t know what I was doing. Any information or leads would be in the building past the storage yard, and surely that had better security? Cameras, keycard locks - what was I even doing here? Walking through the yard, almost lost in thought - the tower of the station rose into the night sky in the distance, red lights along its length. They almost looked like eyes along the body of some thin creature, frozen against the stars. 

And then, lights near the station building. I stood still for a moment, uncomprehending until a pair of floodlights on poles a short distance away snapped on, then the next set. The lights were turning on this way, towards me. I had seconds to react, and I did what I’d practiced. In my bag’s side pocket was a plastic bag, containing a gross mess of wet cotton balls, soaked in diluted peppermint oil. Despite my panic, I threw them in all directions, slinging a handful of them in a wide arc, and then hid before the lights were on in my section of the yard. I could hear the electric buzz of the floodlights snapping on just as I ducked behind a row of wire spools, trying to stop my racing heart.

As I debated my options - running, waiting out the lights…maybe they were on a timer? I heard footsteps approaching, crunching on the leaves and pine needles that had accumulated over the unattended years.  When they got closer, I tried to peek through the center of one of the spools I was hiding behind. I saw his uniform first, O-Sec, Office Security. A large man, built like a weightlifter - could see the black shine of a gun in his right hand and my heart leapt into my throat. It was the man from Cecil’s mural, Corporal Han. Was he the officer assigned to this site? I should have known the Office would still have security even on decommissioned stations like this.]

H] I know you’re here. 

[He stopped in a large open area, looking around at the stacks of materials around him, the sheds and tarps - all hiding places.]

H] Normally, I might blame teenagers. Kids getting a kick out of trespassing on Office property. We had one group a few months ago, teenagers. Two humans, a fae and a vampire. They all forgot their vamp friend couldn’t enter without permission. Fun night.

[He paused, letting the silence fall again. I could see him look around, eyes scanning the yard and narrowing. He sniffed the air in a way that seemed…odd.]

H] But judging by the smell…I think you know what you’re doing. You came in with an idea of what was going on. Either you’re a professional, or someone told you…

[He carefully walked, passing behind a small shed and out of my view. I panicked that I lost track of him for a moment, but then there was a sickening sound. Like flesh stripping and bones crunching, and Han’s voice hissing. Then a sound that echoed through the yard, the sound of a hand - no, a claw, grabbing onto the edge of the shed’s corrugated metal wall, digging in and tearing the metal. A shape followed it. A long maw of shining teeth, white fur. A raised canine lip in a familiar but terrifying gesture of anger and aggression, a low rumble as the muzzle raised, and smelled the air. Then, a whine, another growl, sneezing and huffing as the muzzle retreated behind the shed again, out of my view. Another crunch, a growl, and Han staggered past the shed. Haggard, sweating, panting softly, looking incensed.]

H] And if someone told you, I’m going to have a nice, long…conversation with them. 

[He tried to collect himself, catch his breath, run a hand through his hair. He pulled a bandana from a pocket of his uniform, pulling it over his mouth and nose.]

H] You have one minute. One minute until I call backup. You can hide from me, but can you run from a dozen of us? Most of them won’t have my…shortcomings. 

[My heart was pounding. My head was swimming. My fingers were going numb. I couldn’t claim innocence, not when they found out who I was. Could I make a break for it? All of the ways out seemed to be past him, and if he was what he seemed to be, it would be a short chase. It would end up better for me if I surrendered now, but what happens after that? I’d never work again…or worse.]

H] Cecil?

[Han’s voice was confused, concerned. I snapped around to watch through a gap in the spools as Cecil approached, holding a bottle. The bottle of peppermint oil. He must have taken it earlier when he was looking through my bag.]

C] 1 15 12 18 21 16 14 15 1 9 12 8 25 26 1 15 12 14 2 16 19 1 15 12 16 26 25 16 14 15 1

H] Cecil, what did I tell you about–

[Han took in a breath through the cloth, and exhaled, clearly frustrated. His voice was sharp, low, but his face softened, and there was a soft click as he put his gun away.]

H] Why the peppermint, man? You know what that does to my nose. Were you just trying to sneak around without me knowing? 

[Cecil looked at the bottle, then dropped it.]

C] 26 22 20 12 26 1 16 19 19 13 12 12 19 23 15 8 21 1 22 20 23 8 16 21

H] Are you taking your medicine? Probably not. Let’s….let’s get you back home. Not that bunker, home. 

[Cecil seemed to hesitate, but Han put a hand on his upper arm.]

H] You know you can’t be here. Come on. If you come with me to the station I’ll ask someone to bring you dinner when they come pick you up. Okay?

C] 25 12 8 19 16 1 6 4 8 26 13 22 2 21 11 4 8 21 1 16 21 14

[The older man lowered his head, but followed Han as the guard turned and walked back towards the station - but not before looking around, deciding on the row of spools I was hiding behind, and nodding, jerking his head towards the direction of the gap in the fence.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Once Han and Cecil were out of sight, I ran to the exit. I don’t remember much of the next several minutes - running a roundabout way through the forest, coming to the edge, following that until I found my car. I didn’t allow myself time to decompress. I slammed the keys into the ignition and pulled out onto the highway. 

The tears came just as it started to rain, and I drove until it became difficult to continue. I had gained nothing from this. Nothing but a panic attack and a long-lasting nightmare, a recurring dream with claws, spools of wire, and the scent of peppermint. ]

[calliecwrites]

Self-Sacrifice

TooPowerfulException: program terminated.

I rubbed my eyes again, but the writing wouldn’t go away. It was there even with my eyes closed.

“What do you mean, I broke the system?”

It had all happened so quickly. On a whim, since no god deserved my worship, I’d decided to sacrifice my everything to the only being worthy of it: myself. It was meant to be a joke, really. But I’d felt a sudden rush of something, and seconds later, the world had stopped. Now there were white cracks everywhere, and janitors were sweeping up the rubble.

The one I’d spoken to leaned on his broom. He gave me a look. Those splinters he was sweeping up were the wreckage of my wardrobe. What the rest was, I had no idea. Bits of stone, dirt, something that looked like the arm of a statue – nothing that should have been anywhere near my bedroom. It was a mess in here, and in my pyjamas I didn’t look much better.

He wore dark glasses – they all did – and I could tell, somehow, that there was nothing behind them. Or maybe everything. I don’t even know what that means. But I didn’t like the way he was looking at me, not one bit.

Finally, he spoke.

“Worship is power. You know that, right?” When I didn’t answer, he sighed. “When you sacrifice to someone, your power, and the power of everyone who’s sacrificed to you, gets added to theirs.” He scratched a diagram in the dirt with the toe of his boot: boxes and arrows, all leading in to one point. “When you sacrificed to yourself, it made a loop.” He drew it in, and yes, it did.

“So?” I shrugged.

“So the power goes from you to you to you to you, adding every time! It never stops! The numbers go up and up, until – boom!” He slashed the broom through the picture, destroying everything. “Boom!”

Not to be a smart alec, but: “Shouldn’t you have thought of that?” I said.

“We never thought anyone would do something so stupid! Why would you do that?!” The janitor sighed again, and ran his hand through his hair. “It’s like ‘grass is always greener on the other side’, all over again. You have no idea how long it took to stop that one blowing up in our faces.” He shook his head. “It’s like you humans deliberately try to break things.”

“Wait, what?” I said. “You’re not human?”

He glared. “Neither are you, now, kid.”

“Uh…”

I glanced at the mirror. My reflection was weird. I’d noticed that earlier. It was so blurry I could barely make myself out as a human-shaped blob. There was nothing wrong with the mirror – everything else was sharp. Though I looked normal to my own eyes, clearly something had changed about me.

The cracks were wider now, and the white light coming through them was brighter. Everything else was fading. The janitors spoke among themselves. Eventually mine turned back to me.

“Look, we’re going to have to reset this universe,” he said. “Nothing else for it now. Hop over to another one, and don’t come back, OK? You’ve caused enough trouble in this one already.”

“There are other universes?” I said. “You mean the multiverse is real? But – I can’t just leave, even if I did know how. This is my home.”

He glared again. I think I had just dropped even lower in his estimation, if that was possible.

“You’ve literally become too powerful for this universe to contain,” he said, “you trashed the whole thing getting that way, and you don’t even know—?” He sighed. “Remind me never to try explaining things to a human. Go figure it out.” He turned away.

Powerful? I didn’t care. I wanted a coffee, and a seat, and maybe to wake up and find this was all a bad dream.

I felt something in my hand, and looked down. A cup of coffee. Had I just made that happen? It smelled wonderful, and when I took a sip, it was just right. And I wasn’t in my pyjamas anymore. What was going on?

The janitor turned back to me one last time. He pointed an accusing finger.

“Just don’t go trying this again, OK? It’ll take a while for the fix to roll out everywhere. We can’t take the whole multiverse down for maintenance all at once – Customers would notice, and then we’d really be in trouble, you know?”

I didn’t, but what was I going to say to that?

But: figure it out, he’d said. It couldn’t hurt to try. So I reached out with a sense I hadn’t known I had, and there were other universes everywhere. It was so easy I almost laughed. Stepping into any one of them would be as simple as intend, focus, and pull—

Also on Reddit.

[brandyschillace]

Hanging with Stephen Gallagher

Stephen Gallagher has written novels (LOVE Kingdom of Bones, Chimera, Rain) and television scripts (for Doctor Who — for Rosemary & Thyme, Eleventh Hour, BBC series Murder Rooms, etc.) I’ve known Steve for ages, and in addition to being a brilliant writer, he’s an extremely generous person with a keen wit and wonderful sense of humor. He also makes a good guide round Leeds, where we spent today. Tried to stop at the Book Barge (going to pick up a book by @neil-gaiman to pose with) but it was closed. Sorry Neil! Also went to the art gallery … and discovered we have similar taste in pens.

[theplotmage]

50 Fantasy Prompts: Cultures and Societies. Writers Save this!

1. Luminae

- A society that worships light and revolves around bioluminescent creatures.

- Gesture: Raising both hands to the sky and opening palms to signify receiving light.

- View: Light is considered the purest form of energy and the ultimate source of life.

2. Mistral Nomads

- Wind travelers who harness the power of the breeze for navigation and communication.

- Gesture: Whispering into a small vial and releasing it into the wind, symbolizing sending a message.

- View: The wind carries the voices of ancestors and guides the living.

3. Veilwalkers

- Inhabitants of the mist who can see and manipulate spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a veil across the face to communicate with spirits.

- View: The world of the living and the dead are separated by a thin veil that can be crossed.

4. Starforged

- People born under specific constellations with unique abilities tied to their birth star.

- Gesture: Touching a constellation tattoo to activate its power.

- View: Stars are the eyes of the gods, watching over and guiding them.

5. Shadecloaks

- Masters of shadow magic, living in perpetual twilight.

- Gesture: Merging fingers into the shadows, symbolizing blending into the darkness.

- View: Shadows are protective, hiding them from danger and giving them strength.

6. Seraphians

- Winged beings who consider themselves guardians of the skies.

- Gesture: Unfurling wings in a greeting, showing trust and openness.

- View: The skies are sacred, and flight is a divine gift.

7. Pyrosages

- Fire-wielders who live in harmony with volcanic landscapes.

- Gesture: Holding a flame in one hand while placing the other hand over the heart, symbolizing passion and life.

- View: Fire is a cleansing force, both destructive and renewing.

8. Aquafolk

- Ocean dwellers with the ability to breathe underwater and communicate with marine life.

- Gesture: Creating ripples in water with a fingertip to convey emotions.

- View: Water is a mirror of the soul, reflecting true feelings and intentions.

9. Silvan Elves

- Forest guardians who blend seamlessly with their environment.

- Gesture: Touching foreheads with a leaf, symbolizing unity with nature.

- View: All life is interconnected through the roots of the great tree.

10. Necrochanters

- A culture deeply connected to the afterlife, able to communicate with and summon spirits.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle with ashes to summon spirits.

- View: Death is not the end but a transformation to another state of being.

11. Stonekin

- Rock-like beings who can manipulate earth and stone.

- Gesture: Pressing a hand to the ground to communicate with the earth.

- View: The earth holds ancient wisdom and the memories of their ancestors.

12. Aetherians

- Masters of air magic, capable of floating and flying at will.

- Gesture: Raising arms and fingers to mimic the flow of air currents.

- View: The air is filled with invisible threads that connect all living beings.

13. Chronomancers

- Time-benders who can manipulate past, present, and future.

- Gesture: Tapping a timepiece rhythmically to alter time flow.

- View: Time is fluid and can be molded to fit the needs of the moment.

14. Dreamforgers

- People who can enter and manipulate dreams.

- Gesture: Weaving fingers in intricate patterns while in a trance.

- View: Dreams are a bridge between realities, holding power and prophecy.

15. Sunseekers

- Pilgrims who follow the path of the sun, gaining strength from its light.

- Gesture: Holding a hand above the heart to swear oaths under the sun’s gaze.

- View: The sun’s light is a witness to all promises, giving them sacred weight.

16. Frostborn

- Ice-dwellers with control over cold and frost.

- Gesture: Exhaling a cold breath to signify agreement or truth.

- View: Ice preserves and protects, holding the essence of life.

17. Songhearts

- A musical culture that uses songs and sound for magic.

- Gesture: Placing a hand over the throat and singing a single note to show sincerity.

- View: Music is the language of the heart and the most honest form of communication.

18. Runecarvers

- Inscribers of powerful runes that grant various abilities.

- Gesture: Tracing runes in the air or on surfaces to cast spells.

- View: Runes are the written words of the gods, containing immense power.

19. Stormcallers

- Masters of weather, able to summon and control storms.

- Gesture: Raising a staff to the sky to summon storms.

- View: Storms are the breath of the gods, bringing both fury and renewal.

20. Plainsriders

- Nomadic horsemen known for their speed and agility.

- Gesture: Drawing a circle in the dirt with a foot to mark territory or signal peace.

- View: The open plains are a vast, sacred expanse that must be respected.

21. Mycologians

- Mushroom-like beings who can communicate through spores.

- Gesture: Spreading spores by tapping a mushroom cap to communicate.

- View: Fungi are the bridge between life and decay, recycling energy.

22. Glimmerfolk

- Glittering, gem-encrusted people who can harness the power of precious stones.

- Gesture: Touching gemstones to channel their energy.

- View: Crystals are vessels of ancient power and knowledge.

23. Thornclad

- A warrior culture clad in thorny armor, known for their fierce combat skills.

- Gesture: Clasping hands with thorned gloves to signify a bond or agreement.

- View: Pain and resilience are intertwined, symbolizing strength.

24. Celestials

- Star-born beings with a deep connection to the cosmos.

- Gesture: Drawing constellations in the air with glowing fingers.

- View: The night sky is a map of destiny, guiding their every action.

25. Inkshapers

- People who can bring drawings and tattoos to life.

- Gesture: Drawing a symbol on their skin to activate a spell.

- View: Ink and art are extensions of the soul, capable of bringing thoughts to life.

26. Mirageweavers

- Desert dwellers who can create illusions and mirages.

- Gesture: Waving hands to create illusions and mirages.

- View: Reality is fluid and can be shaped by perception and will.

27. Echoers

- A culture that communicates and fights using echoes and soundwaves.

- Gesture: Clapping or snapping fingers to create soundwaves for communication.

- View: Sound is a powerful force that can shape the world around them.

28. Ironveins

- Metal manipulators who can shape and control metal at will.

- Gesture: Clenching fists to channel metal manipulation.

- View: Metal is a living force, constantly evolving and reacting.

29. Wyrmkin

- Dragon-like people with scales and the ability to breathe fire.

- Gesture: Exhaling a plume of smoke or fire to show respect or power.

- View: Dragons are the ultimate beings, embodying wisdom and might.

30. Duskborn

- Night-dwellers who gain strength from the moon.

- Gesture: Holding a candle to their chest, symbolizing the light within the darkness.

- View: Darkness is not to be feared, but embraced as a part of the natural cycle.

31. Crystalhearts

- A society with crystalline bodies that can refract light and energy.

- Gesture: Touching their heart crystal to show honesty and purity.

- View: Crystals are the heart of their being, reflecting their true selves.

32. Skyforgers

- Builders of floating cities and airships.

- Gesture: Hammering an invisible anvil to craft objects from thin air.

- View: The sky is a forge, and they are its smiths, creating wonders from the air.

33. Leafkin

- Plant-based beings who can photosynthesize and communicate with flora.

- Gesture: Placing a leaf in the palm to connect with nature.

- View: Leaves and trees are the lifeblood of the earth, nourishing all.

34. Sandshapers

- Desert people who can control and shape sand.

- Gesture: Drawing patterns in the sand to communicate or cast spells.

- View: Sand is a canvas for their magic, constantly shifting and changing.

35. Moonshadow Elves

- Elves who live in the shadows of the moon, skilled in stealth and night magic.

- Gesture: Casting moonlight on their face to invoke lunar power.

- View: The moon is a guide and protector, influencing their magic and lives.

36. Bloodrunes

- Warriors who use their own blood to inscribe powerful runes.

- Gesture: Pricking a finger to draw blood and create runes.

- View: Blood is the essence of life, and through it, they gain power.

37. Dreambinders

- People who can link their dreams to reality.

- Gesture: Twining fingers together to weave dreams into reality.

- View: Dreams are powerful forces that can shape and change the world.

38. Thunderclans

- Tribes who worship and control thunder and lightning.

- Gesture: Stamping feet or clapping hands to summon thunder.

- View: Thunder is the voice of the gods, a call to action and power.

39. Feywilders

- Inhabitants of the fey realm with unpredictable and chaotic magic.

- Gesture: Dancing in a circle to invoke fey magic.

- View: The fey are mischievous yet powerful, their magic a blend of chaos and beauty.

40. Mirrorborn

- People who can step through and manipulate mirrors.

- Gesture: Touching mirrors to travel or communicate.

- View: Mirrors are portals to other realities, reflecting infinite possibilities.

41. Wispwalkers

- Ethereal beings who guide lost souls.

- Gesture: Holding a wisp of light to guide lost souls.

- View: Wisps are guides and protectors, leading them through darkness.

42. Frostweavers

- Ice artisans who create intricate and magical ice sculptures.

- Gesture: Weaving ice crystals into intricate patterns.

- View: Ice is a delicate and beautiful force, capable of great power.

43. Starwardens

- Celestial knights who protect the realms from cosmic threats.

- Gesture: Drawing star maps in the air to invoke celestial power.

- View: The stars are guardians, watching over and protecting them.

44. Emberkin

- Fire-dwellers with control over embers and ash.

- Gesture: Snapping fingers to produce sparks and embers.

- View: Embers hold the remnants of fire’s spirit, representing both the end and beginning of the flame.

45. Oceanborne

- Sea nomads who can control the tides and waves.

- Gesture: Drawing water symbols in the air to summon sea spirits.

- View: The sea is a vast, living entity, a source of mystery and power.

46. Windwhisperer

- Communicators with the wind, able to send messages across great distances.

- View: The sky is a living entity, responsive to the voices of those who respect it.

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

47. Etherseekers

- Gesture: Holding out their hands to draw ether into themselves.

- View: The ether is a vast reservoir of magic, accessible to those who seek it.

48. Twilight Guardians:

- Gesture: Holding a lantern to light the way through twilight.

- View: Twilight is a sacred time, a bridge between day and night.

49. Windwalkers

- Gesture: Moving gracefully to mimic the flow of the wind.

- View: The wind is a messenger of the gods, carrying whispers of destiny and change.

50. Eclipsewatchers

-Gesture: Covering one eye while the other remains open to signify balance

- View: Eclipses represent the merging of light and dark, a time of balance and reflection.

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a girl in your freind group who just appeared one day. Like literally. There was one day when she appeared and everybody else acted like she had always been there. Only you didn't remember that she had existed, or more accurately only you remembered that she hadn't existed the day before.

She acted normal. So very freindly. But there was something off about her. She seemed too hand crafted, her skin too pale, her hair too blond, her eyes too blue and face too pretty. She looked more like a doll then like a real person. And it was clear after asking the right probing questions that she had no hometown, no family, no ethnic group, that she just was. You were good at asking that type of question, to prove she wasn't human.

You're the only person in that freind group who knows about the supernatural. Like, you don't deal with it on a professional basis or anything, you know a few people who are more involved in it, and you've gotten the chance to see a handful of anomalies and entities and like one eldritch being. You even time traveled once. None of it was a big deal, but you thought they were cool, and it's good to know they exist. The reason it's important is because you know knowing about that stuff effects how you perceive certain things, especially when it comes to recognizing illusions and paradoxes.

You studied her for awhile. Did what you could to check her every little action, wonder if certain small things she did were what a human would do. Question her without letting on how much you know. You've studied the way she eats, the abnormalities in her dialect. The strangeness to how she got her documents. You stole a bit of hair to send to a lab and they confirmed her nonhuman. You're pretty sure from studying the way that her clothing moves on her body that she doesn't have nipples or private parts or a bellybutton, you know it's weird to speculate about that sort of thing with someone but a body like hers is different. Still, you never got full proof, never figured out what she really was, never got to show that she wasn't a real woman and expose the inhuman creature underneath.

As time went on, and you investigated her further and further you stopped being able to see her as a monster. It's clear that even if she's not human, she probably doesn't know what she is either. And more then that she seems like a nice person, all that time you spent with her trying to figure out what type of anomaly she is, you ended up actually getting to know her and she seems like a genuinely nice human being. When she told you she liked a new song and wanted to play it for you that probably was just her liking a song. When she developed a hyperfixation on birds and started being able to name local species at a glance that might have just been a legitimate interest. When she had a crush on a girl in your freind group that was actually just a crush, and not her looking to prey on someone in an alien way. You watched a TV show with her early on to try to figure her out, that might have been the first show she ever watched.

At this point you don't really think about her inhumanity when interacting with her. She's been in the group for awhile, everyone has far more real memories of her then false memories at this point. Trying to expose her for what she really is would just be mean at this point. The paradoxical nature of her existence isn't the main thing you know about her now.

You did have to come clean that you knew something was up. You didn't tell her how much you knew, or why, you just dropped the right hints and she caught on. She became so upset, so guilty, she was worried you would tell everyone else, or that you would hurt her. A few months back you would have, but not anymore. You hugged her, didn't ask any questions about what she was, and did your best to comfort her. Though her existence may have been fake, her hugs were real, those tears were real, and that was enough.

[spoonstrek]

Today at Pride I bought a Star Trek book based on a story by Theodore Sturgeon with the concept that Kirk and Spock "face the most seductive menace of all: perfect happiness."

I said "that's gay" out loud at the book stall.