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Original Writing
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WIP Intro - Eldenstow Creek
{ The Basics }
Genre - Urban Fantasy & Mystery
Themes & Tropes - Mystical, Supernatural, Adventure, Unlikely Friends, Unintended consequences, Derealization, Fear of The Unknown, Dark Imagery, LGBTQ+ Characters, POC characters, Dreamlike Descriptions, Mind-bending, Self-sacrifice, and Horror.
Setting - Fictional locations in Eastern U.S & Fantasy Locations
Status - Plotting & Drafting
Point Of View - Third Person Limited
Content Warning - Contains Dark Topics such as assault, violence & murder.
{ Story Description }
A drive through the empty roads of the countryside, along the edge of the woods and away from everything they’d once known. Sounds nice right? well not when you’re running from something, something far more sinister than what they were about to encounter. The world was not as it seemed, there was another side, a side where strangeness & evil resided. Circuses popping out of seemingly nowhere, pools of mystical water trying to pull them in, unintended consequences after trying to fight this higher power. Everything had seemed normal but then they’d made one mistake, messed with the wrong person, spilled the blood of something they never should’ve. So yeah. They were in the same car and driving along the edge of the woods. Nothing to it.
{ Spoiler-Free Synopsis }
Shae Brooks is just trying to live a ‘normal’ life, at least not one full of fantasy creatures and a girl who seems to be more full of bullshit than anyone else he’d ever met. He makes one mistake, he interacts with the wrong person, but instead of just letting him deal with his own problems like a normal person, a girl named Ruby Gardner comes along and decides the best course of action is violence.
Not wanting to be arrested for a crime he didn’t commit the best course of action is to go with her right? And when things go south from there the only choice is to follow this lunatic girl who seems to be stuck in her head far more than the real world wherever she intends to take them. The further they venture, the weirder things get, pools of mystical water, creatures from the unknown, woods that seem to be unending, bottomless creeks, and a journey they’d truly never forget.
But the question is… why? why any of it? Why does he choose to go along with this girl who is the exact opposite of himself, whom he never in a million years thought could be a friend. What is this girl hiding and why did she do something so unthinkable such as spilling the blood of another?
There’s love and there’s loss, but nothing is as it seems and that stands true for the happy ending as well.
{ Eldenstow Creek Playlist }
Mysterious & Unusual, the perfect accompaniment to this story.
{ Notes & Conclusion }
I was inspired to write this story by two very different stories, one of which is Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman where it starts off seemingly normal and gets more and more strange as time goes on, and the other is The End of The F***ing World mostly in writing style and also the whole- murder thing y’know? So if like those, you might like this one.
Character Intros will hopefully be soon (if I get any interaction that would help motivate me to share) for the two main characters Ruby and Shae who are complete opposites but both have very strong personalities.
This story is early in development, I’ve just written bits and pieces here and there but I did want to put an intro out there so if you are interested in this idea, you can watch as it develops.
Keep reading
#writeblr#writing#wip#wip intro#ow wip intro#ow urban fantasy#ow mystery#mystery#urban fantasy#fiction#ow wip
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Prologue: A Day in the Life
The first story in World's Best Science Fair Project is here! Maybe now we'll get to see what's going on in Dimitri's lab... Content warning for mild body horror. This is the beginning of a new arc, but it's connected to the first four Flipside stories I've written, which can be found here.
Taglist moment.. @g0ldgauntlet @phoenix-creates @thathaunteddoll @ackari74 @original-writing @hbxplain (if anyone wants to be +/- from the list lmk!)
If you like the story, feel free to donate!
~~~
The Underside’s sky, which was more like an impossibly-high stone ceiling, was overcast as always. Thick layers of gray fog rolled under it and shone with a faint whitish light, the Underside’s version of the sun. Plants from aboveground couldn’t survive here unless a powerful nature spirit decided to take up residence here and willed them to grow. Instead, the Underside had its own native species that eked by using the sparse resources the realm offered them. There were patches of forest filled with silver-leafed trees whose bark turned red at the roots. That was a byproduct of absorbing nutrients from the reddish soil, but abovegrounders sometimes complained it looked like blood.
Right now, Shakoze was creeping through one of those forests. Eastern Tennessee’s lush woodlands would always feel like home, but the Underside’s bloodstained trees were extremely cool. Plus, this forest was home to a rare species of frog. Shakoze crouched down at the edge of a pond filled with ruddy water. He watched and waited patiently, letting ten minutes pass, then fifteen, then twenty. Finally, a rust-red frog’s head emerged from the water. Its beady black eyes stared at Shakoze, and he stared back with an eager gleam in his eyes. This was the exact frog he was looking for, and now he could get down to business.
Shakoze slowly extended a hand towards the water and let out a perfect imitation of the frog’s cry, a mix between a ribbit and a chirp. The frog was likely confused, thinking something like I’ve never seen a frog this big before, but it was also intrigued, and it swum towards Shakoze slowly but surely. Shakoze kept mimicking until the frog was out of the water and resting on his hand. The aptly named rust frog couldn’t be touched by mortals since it secreted a dangerous poison that caused one’s blood to become filled with rust particles. As a bloodless immortal, Shakoze could hold rust frogs as much as he wanted, and he was fully prepared to take advantage of that fact.
“Is my hand comfortable so far?” Shakoze asked it.
The frog didn’t answer. As glorious as frogs were, they weren’t nearly as intelligent as people and it had no idea what Shakoze was saying.
“Good stuff, right? So, how’s your life going?”
“Yeah, you’re right. There’s nothing wrong with having a little snack every now and then,” Shakoze said anyway. With its free hand it took a small plastic container out of its jacket’s inner pocket. It popped open the lid to reveal dozens of bugs, some dead and some half-alive. It carefully selected a fly and dangled it in front of the rust frog. The frog gazed at it for a few moments and snapped it up.
The rust frog ribbeted and hopped onto the ground, landing right next to the container. It poked its head in and began lapping up more insects. Shakoze carefully scooped it up before it devoured his entire stock and continued, “That’s great to hear. You want to know how I’m doing? Well, it’s not too bad. My boyfriend and I are getting along great for the most part. I still call my other friend. I’ve been meaning to visit her sooner or later.”
The frog squirmed in Shakoze’s gentle grip for a bit, but eventually it gave up and let them hold it.
“Hey, that’s one more friend than you! Two, if you count my boyfriend. It’s not really my fault, anyway. Humans are hard to make friends with. They usually don’t like my cool noises or my awesome sense of humor. I know most of them find demons scary and I’ve tried to tone it down, but…” Shakoze sighed. It thought about the time decades ago when Katherine had asked who helped it deal with its emotions. When Shakoze had answered “nobody,” it hadn’t been too bothered. But now that it had grown up some more, moved to Arcadia and seen the kinds of close relationships that demons could form, it was feeling a little left out. It still had Katherine and it loved Dimitri, but it didn’t want to tell the humans about this problem lest they blame themselves for it.
Shakoze put the bug container away and sat down, crossing his legs. “I’m not interested in making friends with gods; they’re kind of annoying. I have a lot of demon acquaintances and a couple of demon friends, so I’m all set there. I just wish I got along with humans a little better. Being with Dimitri — that’s my awesome boyfriend’s name — has given me a better idea of what humans are like beneath their delicious scents, and I wanna see what other humans have to offer.”
The rust frog grew tired of Shakoze’s monologue. It leapt out of their hand and bounded back into the water without so much as a chirpy Bye, thanks for the food.
“Thanks for listening,” Shakoze muttered.
~~~
Dimitri’s lab was the only clean part of his house, partially because a messy lab was a dangerous one and partially because Sean didn’t let him get away with leaving his messes lying around. The duo’s progress had called for an upgrade in equipment, so now the lab had a new layout. A pair of tall glass tanks filled with mint-green fluid stood in the center of the room. The tanks were like mirrors of each other, filled with the exact same things: a pair of beating hearts, nerves, and brains, coated in translucent skin. Soon muscles and bones would take shape and the skin would grow darker. The best part was, even though Dimitri had used his own DNA to influence the subjects’ appearances, they were actually androids made of the best technology science had to offer. With Sean’s help, Dimitri had figured out how to grow wires and processors organically. No robot could ever look as human as these two.
That is, assuming everything went according to plan. There had been a couple of bumps, but Dimitri and Sean had managed to smooth them out. Now they were in the final stages of their research, observing the androids and making sure they were growing properly. The tanks were circled by desks covered in monitors and machines. If something was growing too quickly or slowly, one of the scientists would turn a dial or type a command to fix it.
“Y’know, it’s really sinking in how wild this is,” Sean remarked. He was typing away at a computer as he spoke. As the one with more coding experience, he was in charge of creating the androids’ software. “I mean, you was originally shooting to create one kid that was about ten years old. Now you’ve got twins, and they’re teenagers. You sure you can handle that?”
Dimitri didn’t respond immediately. Lab work was always draining, and it took him a moment to process Sean’s words. “We can’t do anything about the twins part unless we figure out why the cells keep cloning themselves. And this late in the research process, I don’t think it’s worth it. As for their age… Well, they’re based off of my DNA and I was great as a teenager, so it should be fine,” he half-joked.
Sean reached up and playfully punched Dimitri in the shoulder. “I cannot believe you went to college and grad school.”
Dimitri laughed so hard that his eyelids drooped for a few moments. “Okay, I’ll be serious. I’ve always wanted younger siblings and I think it’d be easier for me to relate to 13-year-olds than 10-year-olds, so this is perfect for me. You get where I’m coming from, right?”
“Actually, I’ve always been glad to be an only child. Didn’t have to share nothing.”
“Fair enough. I don’t mind sharing, though.” Plus, Dimitri thought, unlike random friends, siblings can’t really leave you.
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You’ve always had a literal guardian angel- but she’s currently bleeding out on your bedroom floor.
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A Sharper, More Lasting Pain, a novel by @space-cadead
The Basics
GENRE - dark fantasy, dark academia, high fantasy
INSPIRATIONS - Bloodborne, Dungeons & Dragons, The Radium Girls, Sorcery of Thorns
POV - third-person limited (present tense), alternating POV
TAGS, THEMES, AND TROPES - (dark) academia, authority and its abuse of power, conspiracies, fighting fate, lgbtq, magic, manipulation, memory alteration, monsters, one-night stand to lovers, runic/sigil magic, the inevitability of death
CONTENT WARNINGS - body horror, chronic illness, drug use, mild kink, sex, terminal illness (ish), violence
STATUS - first draft, currently at 25k words
THE CHARACTERS
Simone Allard, a second-year Abjuror who loves getting to the heart of a matter. An over-achiever, they often work themself to the point of exhaustion to get the answer they seek.
Nadia DuPont, a third-year Diviner who is tired of this shit. Despite near-constant sickness, she considers herself the life of the party.
Etienne LaChance, a third-year Evocator and Nadia’s best friend. Around the time of her disappearance, a monster critically wounds him and leaves him for dead.
SUMMARY
After their girlfriend’s best friend is wounded in a monster attack, Simone Allard stumbles across a plot much deeper than they anticipated. As they work to find a cure to their own forming illness and find out the truth, two questions remains: where is Nadia, and how was she involved in all of this?
Nadia DuPont doesn’t know how much time she has or even what is ailing her, but it all gets more complex after meeting Simone on a field trip. As they both race to find a cure, Nadia's certain of one thing: Simone will be the source of her ruin.
LINKS
First Lines
Cover Reveal
Read it on Wattpad
TAGLIST (ASK TO BE ADDED)
@magic-is-something-we-create , @wildswrites , @chishiio @westcountrygothic @writeblrsupport @original-writing
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The Follow-up
I couldn't help but write a sequel to Equivalent Exchange. Hopefully Katherine is feeling better since Landon last saw her... No content warnings for this one.
Taglist moment.. @g0ldgauntlet @phoenix-creates @ackari74 @thathaunteddoll @original-writing @hbxplain (if anyone wants to be +/- from the taglist lmk)
If you like the story, feel free to donate!
~~~
Landon hadn’t seen Katherine in a few weeks, so they decided to pay her a visit. They weren’t particularly hungry right now, but they were a little curious about how well she was getting along with her parents. Besides, they wanted a new pair of crochet hooks and Katherine had mentioned that she had some money saved up. They usually preferred food or supplies themselves over money, but if they could get Katherine to pay them that would be just fine.
Every electronic device was connected to each other on a multilayered map of radio, sound and light, and Landon cruised through it with ease. It was like a giant cardiovascular system: there were the broader noise-textured veins that took him across counties and states, and there were the capillaries that let him peer into neighborhoods and homes. Landon cruised along to Katherine’s house in eastern Tennessee and arrived at the end of a capillary in her kitchen, the telephone. It looked like he was nestled up in the wires of a phone speaker that floated through a vast, static-y void. He couldn’t see what was on the other side of the plastic phone, but he could hear perfectly. He listened in to the kitchen for a few minutes, but it sounded empty. He hopped up to a path above him, a TV screen in a girl’s room. Now he could see walls that were painted a peachy orange and a neatly-made bed. There was a desk was covered in textbooks and papers and a pink digital alarm clock that looked like it would be fun to hide in. Katherine sat at the foot of the bed, smelling even more sad than the first time they’d met. She was staring at the ground and twirling some of her long curls with her finger.
Landon oozed out of the TV, causing Katherine to shriek and shield her face with her hands. “I don’t have anything for you to fix! Please leave me alone!”
Landon smiled and sat down next to her. “Hey, don’t worry about all of that. I’m just here to say hi. How’s everything going?”
“How does it look like it’s going?!” Katherine yelled. “I’m feeling miserable and you’re going to make it worse!”
Katherine did indeed smell miserable, like a plate of stale brownies that had fallen to the ground. “Why do you feel so upset?”
“There’s no point in telling you. You’re probably gonna ignore it and try to eat me!”
“I don’t eat people, I feed on them; there’s a difference. And I wouldn’t ignore you either. I came because I wanted to know how you’re doing with your parents,” Landon clarified. They decided to focus on getting new crochet hooks later. Talking to Katherine felt more important right now.
“What? Really?” Katherine nervously peeked from between her fingers.
Landon grinned wider, showing as many teeth as possible to show that he meant it. “Yeah, really. I like it when my food has variation, so it’d be nice if you experienced emotions besides sadness when I visit you. … Oh, and humans stop functioning properly if they don’t have good relationships. We don’t want that to happen, right?”
Katherine began to pick at her shirt sleeve’s hem, but stopped herself when she caught Landon staring at it. “Fine. But only because I need to get this stuff off my chest, anyway. I talked to my parents and they said they’re too busy to take time off, but that we can hang out more on the weekends. We’re going to a nice restaurant on Saturday.”
“That’s great. If I had parents I’d want to eat out with them too,” Landon said sincerely. “But you’re still upset. There’s something more going on, right?”
Katherine’s eyes had already been wet, but now she broke down into tears. “It’s a bunch of stupid high school drama! You wouldn’t get it!”
Landon pulled a pack of tissues out of its leather jacket pocket and offered them to Katherine. “Maybe not, but you can enlighten me. I don’t want you to feel sad right now, okay? You’ll feel a lot better if you tell me. I won’t judge.”
Katherine snatched a tissue and wiped her eyes. “Ugh. When you met me I was upset over this boy I had a crush on. I thought he’d just forgotten about me, but today he and friends wrote a bunch of mean notes about me and stuffed them in my locker. At first he seemed really nice, but he called me ugly and stupid and too dark for the school and…” Too distraught to finish her sentence, Katherine clung onto Landon and sobbed into their arm.
Hugs were normally something Landon only watched on TV, but now seemed like a good time to give one. They turned to face Katherine and awkwardly wrapped their slender arms around her, patting her on the back. “That must have sucked a lot.”
Katherine eked out an “It was horrible!” between sobs. She clung onto Landon for a few more minutes, until her tears had mostly ran out. “I’m so sorry. I dumped all this drama onto you and I even got tears on your shirt.”
“Don’t worry about it; you needed to get all of this out. Hey, let me tell you something.”
“Hmm?”
Landon let go of Katherine and looked her in the eye. “Everything they said is subjective. You look great to me, and you can’t be stupid if you’re in school.”
Katherine rolled her eyes. “It’s a public school. They let anyone go there; the bar isn’t that high. Half of my grades suck, anyway.”
“I’ve never set foot inside a school, yet here I am,” Landon countered. “Do I look stupid to you?”
Katherine looked reluctant to answer. “I guess not? It’s hard to tell because you’re so weird and we haven’t talked much.”
Katherine felt more tense after saying that, so Landon raised his hands in innocence to indicate he wasn’t offended. “Well, I taught myself how to read, speak, and tailor after spending a few years as an insentient blob. You’ve gotta be at least a little smart to do that, right? Going to school doesn’t determine how smart someone is. It’s about what’s already in here.” He poked Katherine on the forehead.
“Thanks… But what about the ‘too dark’ thing? I’m one of the only black people in the school, so it feels like—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Landon declared. “You know, brown is my favorite color because it’s the color of human skin. And some other things, obviously, but I like it mainly because of the skin. Humans are such a wonderful species, you know? You all taste delicious, your technology is the reason I spawned, your fashion sense is great — and most of you have brown skin. It’s like that color, and by extension you, represent the entire human race. So I don’t think you’re too dark at all. I think the people who said that are too light, yeah?”
Katherine looked like she was about to cry again, but with tears of joy this time. Her scent shifted into a fresh plate of brownies, a little bitter yet warm and rich. “The way you worded that was so creepy, but you’re right! I never thought about it like that. I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… You’re really kind, Landon.”
Landon placed a hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “I’m just doing my job. Even I don’t like dealing with unhappy customers twenty-four-seven.”
Katherine nodded and cautiously looked between Landon’s face and his hand. “Aren’t you going to feed on me? Have you started already?”
“Nah, I’m not doing that today.” Landon casually waved her question away. “Like I said before, my feeding is only a temporary fix. You were bound to feel upset again sooner or later, and you have to work through it on your own. It’s no fun for either of us if you keep relying on me to take your feelings away, especially since you’re so young.”
“Oh. That makes sense.” Katherine paused for a moment before asking, “Who helps you with your emotions?”
That question gave Landon pause. It wasn’t something they’d thought about before. “No one, really. I pick stuff up from TV, radio, and the humans I observe, but that’s about it. I’m not complaining, though. I don’t really have emotional issues.”
“Lucky,” Katherine muttered. “Um, there’s a lot of stuff I still find really creepy about you, but you’re also really nice in some ways. So, if there is some kind of emotional problem you think I could help with, then I guess you could visit and ask me about it.”
Landon automatically gurgled, a noise that made Katherine jump in surprise. “It means I’m excited. I accept your offer,” they explained. They were about to add that Katherine was the first human to ever tell them something like that, but suddenly they heard the sound of a creaking door and voices coming from downstairs; Katherine’s parents were home.
Katherine jumped to her feet and lightly pushed Landon towards the TV, whispering urgently, “Go! I’m not letting them know you exist!”
“Relax, they won’t. I’ll catch you later, Katherine.” Landon waved goodbye and placed a hand on the TV screen. His human form melted away and he re-entered the intangible world of radio waves.
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Movie Afternoon
The sequel to A New Type of Customer is here! Now you get to see more Landon and Dimitri interactions. As the title implies, they're gonna watch a movie this afternoon. There definitely won't be any shenanigans... No content warnings for this one.
Taglist moment.. @g0ldgauntlet @phoenix-creates @ackari74 @thathaunteddoll @original-writing @hbxplain (@sergeantnarwhalwrites pinging you too because this features the weird shit in Dimitri's lab you mentioned being interested in. if anyone wants to be +/- from the taglist lmk)
If you like the story, feel free to donate!
~~~
Dimitri was sitting at the desk in his room, scrolling through a forum thread about the best scientific discoveries of the month on his laptop. He was a scientist both as a hobby and for his job, and looking at what other researchers had discovered always gave him some inspiration. The plumber had finished fixing up his pipes a few minutes ago, and now it was 2:30; thirty minutes until Landon would come to visit. Dimitri was still a little surprised at himself for inviting them over. He didn’t have people over often, and Landon was a really odd guy. But then again, so was he. Entering a contract with that demon didn’t faze him, and it wasn’t because of the alexithymia. Landon’s feeding putting him to sleep wasn’t really an issue when he fell asleep so much anyway, and the tailoring was just plain awesome when he thought about it; it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to buy new clothes when he wanted, but why spend all of that money when Landon was right there? They made him wish he’d looked into getting a tailor sooner. On top of all that, something had clicked the moment Landon interlocked Dimitri’s fingers with theirs. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but he wanted to find out.
The second it was 3:00, Dimitri’s laptop let out the sound of a chiming grandfather clock that sounded more and more corrupted with each peal, like someone had boosted the bass and made it off-key. Dimitri plugged his ears and leaned back as familiar black goop bubbled out of the laptop’s speakers. Instead of taking on a human form, Landon gathered itself into a small blob, no more than a foot tall, with round white eyes. It looked up at Dimitri, brought an end to the peals, and gurgled.
Dimitri figured he was supposed to be disturbed, but he was too focused on how incredibly cute Landon was. He gave a small wave and peered down at the creature. If he looked closely he saw that they weren’t just made of black silly putty, but that their skin (if you could call it that) was made of TV static. The grayscale specks flickered rapidly, and it was honestly kind of mesmerizing.
Landon must have noticed how impressed Dimitri was, because they let out a proud-sounding gurgle and tapped out a message in Morse Code on his laptop: “Yeah, I’m like liquid static. Cool, right?”
“Very cool,” Dimitri agreed, lightly rapping his knuckles on the desk to respond. He’d taught himself Morse Code to make it easier to communicate when he was projecting, and it didn’t hurt to get the extra practice in. He wondered why Landon didn’t sign a response, then noticed that his tiny fist was more like a ball than a hand with knuckles and fingers. If he tried signing in that form it would probably be incomprehensible. “So, I didn’t really get around to planning something specific. I guess we can watch a movie? I figured you’d like those since you came out of my TV.”
“Sounds good to me.” Landon seemed to make itself comfortable on the keyboard instead of getting up and taking its human form.
Dimitri gave a confused smile. “Are you gonna move, buddy? Or did you just want to check out my room first? Sorry it’s a total mess.”
“No, I just wanna keep sitting here. The keyboard is warm.”
That’s even cuter, Dimitri thought. “Okay, let’s compromise. I’m gonna pick you up, okay?” Dimitri carefully picked up the laptop and turned it around so the screen was facing away from him. Now Landon could see and get around the house without actually moving. “How’s this feel?”
Landon gave Dimitri a thumbs-up, which looked more like a little stump sticking out of a ball. With that, Dimitri carefully carried it to the living room, setting the laptop on the last pocket of clear space on the coffee table. Putting it on the couch would keep it warmer, but he didn’t want his laptop to overheat and he was a little worried about what could happen if Landon stuck to it for too long. It was better to let it cool down so they’d feel compelled to move.
“You can pick the movie, since I put on that documentary last time. Got any favorite genres?”
“I’m a big fan of comedy,” Landon tapped. “Pass me the remote?”
Dimitri did just that and watched as Landon chose The Blair Witch Project. “So you like horror, too? That’s pretty cool.”
“No, this movie is funny. Where’s the scary part?”
“I haven’t seen it yet, but I heard it gets unsettling the second the main characters enter the woods. I know I’d be scared if I was them.”
Landon let out a strange approximation of a laugh, ragged yet muted, as if the liquid static they were made of was stifling their own vocal cords. “I should take you to the woods one night and show you it’s not nearly as bad as you think.”
“I don’t think you’re supposed to kidnap people,” Dimitri quipped, although the idea didn’t sound half bad. He’d gone hunting quite a bit, and he enjoyed it. He wondered if Landon would make a good hunting partner. “Wait, the movie’s starting.”
Just as Dimitri had heard, the movie was fairly innocuous at the beginning. But the moment the sun started setting on the trio of college students, he began to feel a little tense. Was it really a good idea to shrug off those scary rumors they’d heard? Why did it feel like they were going in circles? And didn’t they notice the strange noises in the background?
Landon, on the other hand, laughed at each of the students’ misfortunes and mimicked the sounds of rustling leaves and snapped twigs. He couldn’t speak in this form, but he could make sound effects perfectly. Dimitri still didn’t see what was so funny, but he was glad to see Landon enjoying the movie. Comedy or not, it was still well-written.
A little over halfway through, Landon got tired of his perch and crawled onto the couch. He entered his human form and slung his arms over the couch, manspreading like it was his house and Dimitri was the one visiting. “You’re just as scared as when we first met yesterday. Do you want me to eat your fear? You don’t like being scared, right?” His voice was a half-whisper so he didn’t distract from the movie too much.
“I’m getting scared on purpose this time, but sure. You can feed a little bit.” Actually, he just wanted an excuse to hold Landon’s hand again. He offered them one hand and they were quick to take it, brows furrowed as they tried to figure out how much fear counted as “a little bit.” Once again, there was something about the way Landon held him, long fingers laced through his. Dimitri liked how his skin felt so soft despite being so calloused, like it was made of silly putty instead of flesh and bone. The experience tugged at his memory, gently reminding him of something important…
… Oh, right. His hand. Dimitri let go of Landon and shakily rose to his feet. He wasn’t as afraid of the movie anymore, but the tradeoff was an open invitation for his body to kick his soul out. He was trying to stay awake, but it was hard when his body was basically allergic to himself. Either way, he needed to get to the lab in his basement. “Sorry, there’s something important I forgot to do. You can keep watching the movie.” He stumbled to the basement and unlocked the door to his laboratory.
The mid-sized lab was filled with expensive, state-of-the-art equipment that most civilians would never get their hands on. Microscopes, a centrifuge, DNA extraction kits — he had it all. Luckily, Dimitri wasn’t most civilians. He was born rich and he’d graduated with a degree in biotechnology. He’d bought all of this stuff when he still lived in America, and it was easy enough to transport it all here. Dimitri made his way to the workspace where his current experiment was taking place. He was trying to grow his own human, composed of synthetic skin, flesh and wires. Suspended in a glass tank filled with greenish fluid and plastic tubes was a pair of half-formed human hands. At first glance that was a success, but this wouldn’t have happened if he’d remembered to check on them in time.
For one thing, there were two hands instead of one and they looked far too old, like they belonged to adolescents. The original hand had a couple of thin cables connected to it, keeping it in place, but the second floated about awkwardly. They were both right hands, as if the original had cloned itself when he wasn't looking. The tank was plugged up to a monitor that recorded its contents’ stats. Dimitri quickly skimmed it and saw that, sure enough, there was an unexpected doubling of resources being consumed to keep his little project alive. He could work with this; this experiment was just a test run before he moved on to recreating vital organs, and he had the resources to start over. He was using his own DNA, so it was no trouble to pluck another strand of hair or spit into a cup in order to get a new sample. But it was still very, very, annoying. Disposing of biowaste was probably his least favorite part of the research process.
As he tried to figure out the best way to solve this problem while a guest was in the house, he heard a faint voice call out, “Dimitri? Where’d you go?” It sounded like Landon had gotten worried and made his way to the basement steps.
“Coming! Just give me a few minutes,” Dimitri called back. He figured it’d be better to finish the movie and clean up later. He tried to trudge back to the laboratory door, but his body wasn’t collaborating. His footsteps grew smaller, less certain, and his limbs felt weak. He managed to lean on a nearby table just before his knees buckled and his jaw slackened — in other words, he was going through a cataplexy attack. He figured that Landon’s snack combined with the shock of his experiment had triggered it.
Dimitri didn’t know what cataplexy attacks were like for people without projection-induced narcolepsy, but for him, it was like his soul was being pushed out of his body in slow motion. Every now and then he felt some strength return to a leg or finger, a sign of his soul fighting back, but he was too tired for it to win this time. The attack wasn’t painful — at this point his soul was too detached for him to feel pain, anyway — but it felt really, really weird. He could vaguely make out the unenviable sensation of passing through his own skin. The head of his soul emerged from his back, followed by his torso and limbs. Once he was fully separated he caught his body just before it fell to the floor and sat it down in a nearby chair.
Since he’d been forced asleep, he estimated it’d take a half an hour at most for him to wake up. He was about to return to the living room to update Landon on what had happened, but suddenly the phone in his body’s hoodie pocket buzzed repeatedly, like his notifications were blowing up. Dimitri’s eye twitched as he watched Landon creep out of the pocket and look around with an awestruck expression, amazed by the pricey scenery.
“You were taking a while, so I got worried. I smelled you down here, but the door was locked so I— You’re angry. Why do you smell so upset?” Landon had been about to put his eye to a nearby microscope, but he hesitated and stood up straight.
Now that Dimitri was projecting, he could feel every one of his emotions clearly, and he was getting pissed, partially at Landon but mostly at himself. He grabbed Landon by the wrist and dragged them all the way back to the kitchen. Fingers moving furiously, he signed in American Sign Language, “I like you a lot so far, and I’d like to hang out with you more in the future, but before we do that we need to set some boundaries. First, stay out of the lab.”
Landon cocked his head and signed back, “Why? It looked really cool.”
“It’s private. I’m not too mad at you for entering this time because you didn’t know, but in the future you can’t go in unless I give you explicit permission. We can make a contract out of it.” Making too many contracts with a demon was probably a bad idea in the long run, but Landon seemed like the type to do what they wanted if they didn’t have any to obey.
Landon’s leg bounced as it considered whether making a contract was better than possibly getting on Dimitri’s nerves again. “Oh. My bad. Yeah, a contract’s fine. What happens if I break it?”
Dimitri stroked his currently-beardless chin in thought. As far as he knew, most demonic contracts involved soul-stealing and torture, but he wasn’t into any of that. He decided to keep the rules simple. “We can still be friends depending on how bad the situation is, but you won’t be allowed to visit me anymore… And you won’t be allowed to feed on me either.”
“That’s a really hard bargain,” Landon remarked, “but I’ll accept it. I can stick to smelling you instead.”
Dimitri thought that was horrifying to hear since he was in a bad mood, but he decided not to comment. Landon was trying to improve and they could sense his disgust anyway. The pair momentarily took each other’s hands again to symbolize the contract going into effect. “Great. And speaking of feeding, I won’t make the mistake of letting you snack on me whenever you want to anymore. I wasn’t thinking ahead when I invited you and I forgot about something important I had to do. I made it worse by letting you feed during the movie; I could’ve used the extra energy just now.”
“So I should ask to feed on you less, I guess? But most humans I talk to are food or customers.” Landon shifted on their feet some and added, “I mean, I can make human friends. It’s just really difficult.”
Dimitri relaxed a little bit, impressed by Landon’s honesty. “Well, I can be your first one. I don’t think you’re a bad person, Landon.”
Landon made another one of its odd gurgles, pleased by Dimitri’s compliment. “That sounds good to me. Wanna finish that movie now? I never paused it, but I can rewind it.”
Dimitri grinned. “Sure, after I get my body back from the lab really quick; I don’t want to leave it just sitting there.”
~~~
When Dimitri finished the movie, he promptly decided it was one of the best films he’d seen in his entire life. Landon agreed for the most part, but they argued that it’d be better if there was a little more gore at the end — apparently they were a big fan of that, which Dimitri supposed made sense for a demon. He exchanged phone numbers with Landon and they kept meeting up, sometimes at Dimitri’s place and sometimes at parks or the beach. Dimitri loved hearing Landon rant about their hobbies and interesting customers. Landon grew to see Dimitri as not just another food source, and they often brought him small gifts, like crab keychains and enchanted charms that were supposed to help one stay awake. Dimitri found the gestures endearing, and his heart warmed every time he received a gift.
Before he knew it, they went from holding hands when Landon fed on him, to hugging, to Landon kissing him on the cheek out of the blue one evening. They said they got the urge because Dimitri smelled sweet in a romantic sort of way, and Dimitri said they were right. Landon was an oddball with a morbid sense of humor, but they’d been looking out for Dimitri since the day they met. When Landon kissed him, he asked teasingly, “Am I about to be your first human boyfriend, too?”
“Yeah, but I’m your first demon partner so we’re even,” they replied with exaggerated smugness.
“Can’t argue with that.” Dimitri kissed them back, feeling grateful that Landon had chosen him to be a customer all those months ago.
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Meet Jonah, the main character from my WIP debut novel, The Drop, set in 2055:
“I was eleven years old when the world went to shit.
Literally. It just started falling away, chunk by horrifying chunk.”
@original-writing
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A New Type of Customer
The next Flipside story is here! Now you get to see what Landon is doing in the modern day. This one's going to be a two-parter and I'm writing the second chapter rn. No content warnings for this story, it's a lot chiller than the last one.
Taglist moment.. @phoenix-creates @g0ldgauntlet @ackari74 @hbxplain @original-writing @thathaunteddoll here you go! (if you want to be +/- from the list lmk)
If you like the story, feel free to donate!
~~~
Shakoze wasn’t a big fan of digital technology. They could make the same beeps and white noise as any analog device, but travelling through digital channels just didn’t feel the same as good old radio waves. Modern televisions were his least favorite. He’d spawned inside of a rickety old analog TV, and as a result those felt like home to him. Each digital television felt like a pale imitation of those.
Nevertheless, most Arcadians didn’t have analog TVs, so Shakoze had to make do. Right now they coursed through channels, catching glimpses of news programs and cartoons. But they were really interested in what things looked like on the other side of the TV screen. If they followed a channel to its destination, they could press themself up to the glass screen and peer into the rooms that the TVs were located in, all while invisible to most creatures’ eyes. They could use any electronic device with a speaker to see or hear the outside world, and it was their main way of finding food or customers — although there was a lot of overlap between the two categories.
This time, he was looking through the screen of a pricey TV in someone’s equally pricey-looking living room. The furniture was fresh and simple, like a magazine’s modern mansion, but the room looked much more lived-in. Hoodies and jackets were strewn on one of the couches, the remote lay haphazardly on the floor, and the coffee table was covered in books and cups. Shakoze got the strong urge to find the owner’s cleaning supplies and clean up the entire living room. But they were hungry now, and feeding took priority.
The living room was empty, but Shakoze could smell someone nearby. It was a human, plain and earthy compared to other species. Their emotions smelled serene, content, like Arcadia’s sea breeze during the summer. Shakoze had been in the mood for something salty, so this human seemed like a good person to feed on. Now they just had to wait and see if the human needed any tailoring done as well.
After a few minutes, the human walked into the room and sat down on the couch, moving a couple of hoodies aside to make room. He was lightskinned with a halo of loose curls that framed his face, and he looked just as relaxed as his emotions implied. He picked up the remote and switched on the TV to a nature documentary about crabs. Crabs weren’t Shakoze’s favorite animal, but it still thought they were interesting. Maybe after lunch they could watch the documentary too.
The human took his phone out of his pullover hoodie’s pocket and glanced at the screen. Shakoze noticed that one of the pocket’s seams was coming undone, and the pocket could fall off entirely if the problem wasn’t fixed. Luckily for its next customer, Shakoze could sew it back up with no problem. It pushed itself out of the screen, squeezing through pixels and falling to the ground in the form of black goo. It assumed its human form and grinned at the customer, since humans always liked smiles.
The human jumped slightly and stared at Shakoze, unsure what to make of him. His calm sea breeze shifted into an anxious storm, although his facial expression was fairly neutral. He glanced at the box slung over Shakoze’s shoulder and said, “Oh, I must’ve made a mistake when I scheduled the appointment. You weren’t supposed to come in to check those pipes until tomorrow. Feel free to take a look now, though.”
Shakoze laughed and shook his head. “I’m not a plumber. I’m a tailor, and you’re my newest customer.” He pointed at the human’s hoodie pocket.
The human frowned and looked down at his deep blue hoodie. “No, thank you. I was just going to buy a new one.”
Shakoze sat down next to him and crossed his right leg over his left, laying his box across his lap. “You’ve fallen victim to the horrors of fast fashion. So many people think it’s okay to throw out perfectly good clothing when there’s a tailor out there begging to fix it for them. So why don’t you help me out and accept my offer? You’ll only have to pay in your emotions.” Now was the part where he laid on the pressure. He leaned up close to the human, staring into his light brown eyes, and produced a new sound he’d been wanting to try out: jackhammers drilling into human flesh and agonizing cries, topped with his signature static buzz. It was music to his ears.
The human stuck his fingers in his ears. Internally he was freaking out, but externally his eyebrows were only slightly furrowed. Usually when people had that reaction they were steeling themselves to push through Shakoze’s sound effects, but instead he politely asked, “Can you turn that noise off, please? I don’t really like it.”
Shakoze waggled their eyebrows. “Only if you accept my offer.”
“Okay.” The human tentatively lowered his hands and sighed in relief when the noise stopped. He relaxed and pulled off his hoodie so Shakoze could fix it.
Shakoze opened their box, selected a navy blue spool of thread and threaded their needle. The human alternated between watching the documentary and Shakoze, intrigued by their efficiency. Shakoze tended to go quiet when they worked, and the human didn’t want to disturb them. They entered a surprisingly comfortable silence marked by the human’s curiosity instead of the usual repulsion. When Shakoze was finished, he returned the hoodie and motioned for the human to try it on.
He gave Shakoze a thumbs-up. “Nice job. You can barely even tell it was patched up. I guess now’s the part where I pay you?”
“Yep. I’ll be feeding on your serenity today. All you have to do is give me your hands.” Once the human did that Shakoze continued, “You’ll fall asleep, but it won’t hurt. By taking my hands, you’ve given me permission to return whenever I want so I can feed on you. Understood?”
This was the part where most people started to push back again. The human cocked his head, tendrils of surprise wafting from him. “Oh, are you a demon? Did I just make a deal with you?”
Shakoze winked. “Right on the money. And it’s permanently binding unless I decide to undo it, which I most likely won’t. But you don’t have anything to worry about, promise.”
Dimitri was quiet for a moment, considering Shakoze’s words. “That’s fine, if the feeding is harmless. What happens if I change my mind?”
Shakoze tightened their grip, large hands swallowing Dimitri’s. “I’ll make sure that won’t happen.”
“Okay, then.” Dimitri smelled skeptical, but apparently he wasn’t bothered enough to protest. He shifted his hands some, trying to make them feel more comfortable.
Shakoze interlocked their hands’ fingers for him and let the feeding begin. There was no resistance as they sucked the serenity from him and let it flow into their body. The ocean breeze washed over them, settled on their taste buds and sank into their stomach. It was so good, they fed until their customer died.
Wait, what? The most Shakoze could do was put people into a coma — feeding couldn’t kill people. And yet, when the human fell asleep their emotions disappeared entirely, as if Shakoze was looking at an empty shell. A moment later, a semi-opaque blue silhouette of the human appeared in front of them, standing between the coffee table in the couch.
Shakoze gaped at him, slack-jawed. If the human’s emotions had previously been a sea breeze, the ghost-like projection was the entire ocean. They were facing a mesmerizing swirl of emotions so potent they were nearly visible, making the projection faintly glow. It was beautiful and delectable, and it perfectly explained why the human smelled so empty when he slept. All of his emotions were trapped in his soul, hardly able to make their way to his brain. And now that he’d forced his own soul out, Shakoze could see exactly what he was feeling: satisfaction, excitement, curiosity, and a fading fear that was quickly being replaced by appreciation. They weren’t sure what was being appreciated, but they wanted to find out. They wanted to learn the cause of every emotion, to quiz this human until they knew how every aspect of his brain worked. Without thinking, Shakoze stood up and reached towards him. Surely he wouldn’t mind if they had another taste, right?
Wrong. The projection sidestepped Shakoze’s hand and signed, “I’m glad you like me, but I’m pretty sure if you feed on me in this form I’ll run out of soul and die,” in Arcadian Sign Language.
Shakoze could understand ASL well enough, but speaking it was a different story. It was a mishmash of sign languages from across three whole realms, and his fingers weren’t used to the unfamiliar words yet. He responded in the other ASL, American Sign Language. “My fault. Why are you projecting, anyway? Did I eat too much?”
The human — Shakoze decided to call him Halo, because of his hair — shook his head and switched to American Sign Language. Maybe he was also from the states. “No, I do this every-time I fall asleep. Projection-Induced Narcolepsy — It’s a long story.”
“Can you wake back up?” Shakoze hoped he could, because Halo's projection was amazing but his body still felt dead, and it didn’t enjoy killing people.
“Not yet. I was forced asleep, so I can’t return to my body until it wants to take me back, if that makes sense.” Halo’s projection sat down next to his body and went back to the documentary, waving at Shakoze as if he expected them to leave.
Shakoze waved back out of courtesy and reclined on the gray couch. He wasn’t going anywhere until he saw Halo wake up for himself, and this documentary was getting pretty interesting anyway. Apparently coconut crabs could eat a variety of foods besides coconuts, and sometimes they even dug through people’s trash. Shakoze found that bit relatable.
Halo looked between Shakoze and the TV, then shrugged. His appreciation grew, and this time Shakoze could tell he was grateful that it was looking out for him. Every now and then, he signed along to the documentary, adding his own commentary and pointing out facts the documentary didn’t mention. Coconut crabs weren’t aggressive, he said, which was really a shame because their reputation was so bad they'd been dubbed “robber crabs.” Shakoze nodded along and encouraged him to keep talking. Whenever people got excited, their emotions tended to flare up. Shakoze couldn’t feed on Halo when he was like this, but it could at least bask in his warm excitement. Besides, the way his fingers flew was really nice to look at.
Halfway between an explanation of carcinization, Halo froze up, fingers poised as if he was about to pinch something. The projection was suddenly sucked back into his body, and his eyes fluttered open. He sat up, turned to Shakoze and said, “See? I’m fine. I’ve been like this since middle school.”
Shakoze was starting to miss Halo’s projection already. “I’m glad you’re okay. It’d be really inconvenient if you actually died.”
“I think it’d be a little worse than that,” Halo said with a laugh. “Anyway, it was nice of you to keep an eye on me. I was a little worried when you just popped out of my TV like that, but you’re actually pretty cool. My name’s Dimitri Lyubimov, by the way.”
Shakoze gave the name he used with most non-demons; generally speaking, one’s true name wasn’t the type of information demons liked to spread around. “Landon Reed. You know, you’re pretty nice yourself. You did a good job at controlling your emotions even though you were so frightened. Sometimes I wish more customers were able to do that.”
“Well, I wasn’t actually scared. Just a bit nervous.”
Shakoze stared, slightly confused. “No, you were terrified. I could smell it.”
Dimitri stared back, just as confused as them. “I didn’t feel scared, though. There wasn’t really much to be worried about.”
“I’m so glad that you’re not worried about me, but when I arrived your emotions were a tropical storm. I could smell it.”
“I didn’t notice,” Dimitri said plainly.
Shakoze got face-to-face with Dimitri, eyebrows furrowed, as they tried to figure out what was going on. Something about this situation seemed familiar, but they were having trouble putting their finger on it. Dimitri had just as many emotions, if not more, as anyone else and he didn’t notice them? Wasn’t this something like…
“Alexithymia!” Shakoze blurted. “Your emotions are all there, but you have trouble noticing and describing them. Right?”
“Bingo. I know I should be more freaked out, and I guess I was, but all my emotions feel distant unless I’m projecting.”
Shakoze sensed an opportunity approaching. “All the more reason for me to keep sticking around. I can help you figure them out,” they offered with a confident smirk.
Dimitri laughed again. He had a thick mustache that framed his smile and covered his top lip. “Okay, sure. You're going to have to leave now, though. I don’t like hanging out with people 24/7, and you didn’t tell me you were coming here, so…”
“That’s fine. Can I come back tomorrow?”
“After three. The plumber should be gone by then.”
Shakoze let out the low gurgle he made when he was excited, a sound that resembled boiling something sticky. “Perfect. See you later, Dimitri.” He slung his box over his shoulder, gave a finger gun as a farewell and stepped back into the TV.
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The Law of Conservation
[ Conservation refers to a logical thinking ability that allows a person to determine that a certain quantity will remain the same despite adjustment of the container, shape, or apparent size, according to the psychologist Jean Piaget. ]
@original-writing
° ° °
"The point, eyas - is that there is no magic," the Mistress whispers. Her words are quiet and translucent. They remind Student of the wind ruffling through the fallen leaves. "People think we're wizards, but we are not."
"Or are we?" the Echo says, staring into the fire. The Student blinks.
The Mistress lays a coin on the table. "Take it, eyas."
She opens her palm, and the Student stares in awe, seeing two more coins. She looks down at her penny.
"Are we fair, eyas?" the Mistress asks. The Student shakes her head. "And why aren't we?"
"You have two," the Student whispers. "I only have one."
The Mistress hums and snaps her fingers. The Student blinks. In her hand, small and identical, lay two coins. "And now?"
"We're fair," the Student answers, "because now I have two, too."
The Echo giggles. The Mistress shakes her head.
"Look deeper, eyas," she says. "How many coins do you have?"
The students stares at her hand.
"Two," she repeats. Her voice is a mix of wonder and confusion. Mistress lowers herself on the wooden chair.
"Eyes," she says, "tell me: I have a piece of bread, and I split it in two. Do I have more bread now?"
The Students looks back at her hand. Two coins stare at her helplessly. "The amount of bread is the same," she finally answers. "But you split it in two."
"There is a difference between “bread” and “a piece of bread”," the Mistress explains quietly. "You see, eyas, people often confuse the two; people often can't tell them apart. Answer the question now, eyas: are we fair?"
The Student frowns.
The coins are small and made of copper.
"I don't know," she admits. The Mistress nods.
"It's alright, eyas. Take your time."
"You see, eyas - people say magic exists. People say we walk the earth and create bread out of nothing. People say our spells weave matter; they think we hold blessings. But let me tell you, eyas: nothingness can't produce matter. A coin isn't born from other coin: it is melted, and hardened, and polished in the forges of Kings. The magic, eyas, isn't in spells - the magic is in genuine faith; the magic is in people's inability to look deeper, to look beneath the surface. We split the loaf of bread in two, and they think we create a separate one. We move a rope an inch forward and they think we lenghtened it. We pour water into a thinner cup and they think we summoned more."
The Student stares at the Mistress. The Mistress turns to the window, her movements dim and weightless.
"People are kids," the Echo smiles childishly. "They can't tell the difference."
"Our magic lays in faith," the Mistress continues, "in making people believe they get more then they had already."
The Echo moves to the Mistress. "They are so eager to have, so eager to have more - they don't look beneath the reality," it says, and the Mistress pats its hair. The Echo purrs. "And we?"
"We are too sympathetic not to let them have it," the Mistress says. "Reality hates us, because we stretch it, because we let people believe, and as long as they believe, they taste, and see, and feel."
"It's cruel, in a way," Echo admits. "But the humans are happy, and I live."
"You don't," the Mistress cuts it off. Echo grins.
"I don't," it says. Its hair is the same shade as Mistress', and its movements hold the same otherwordliness and the same dim around them The Student shivers.
The Echo smiles, curling in a cat-like ball.
The Mistress sighs.
"Look again, eyas. See a single coin where I placed two."
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Equivalent Exchange
My first short story in the Flipside AU is here! This one takes place in the 1980s, when Landon had been around for roughly 10 years... given the nature of his origins and powers, he's pretty young as far as demons go. Content warning for body horror but as usual, the horror dial is turned to like.. 6 instead of 10.
Taglist moment.. @g0ldgauntlet @phoenix-creates @thathaunteddoll @ackari74 @original-writing @hbxplain (and @sergeantnarwhalwrites I'm mentioning you too since some dialogue you liked that I shared in a tag game shows up here, although it's been slightly rewritten. If you or anyone else wants to be +/- from the taglist lmk)
If you enjoy the story, feel free to donate!
~~~
Katherine sat at the kitchen table, staring at the landline phone on the wall. It was only 6:00 PM, but now that winter was approaching the sun was already beginning to set. Diagonal rays of orange sunlight slipped through the windows and illuminated the beige telephone.
The room was silent enough for Katherine to hear a pen drop, but she wished it was louder. She had been expecting a call for an hour now. Every now and then she stood up and paced around the empty house, fiddling with the worn hems of her shirt sleeves, then rushed back to the kitchen so she couldn't pick up the phone a second too late. Yesterday at school, she’d finally managed to give her crush her number, and he’d promised to call her. Maybe he was busy, or maybe someone else was using his house’s phone. They weren’t very close at all, so Katherine couldn’t know for sure.
Ten more minutes passed, then fifteen, then thirty. It dawned on Katherine that her crush would never call. After all, he was fairly popular and well-liked, good at school and pretty athletic too — and she was just a random black girl. The random black girl, in fact; she was the only one in the entire high school. It pained her to admit it, but if he didn’t see her as an exotic catch she was a social burden. Katherine knew he wasn’t worth crying over, but she couldn’t help it. Tears ran down her cheeks and she let out a sob or two.
Suddenly, the phone rang. Katherine hurriedly wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled the receiver to her ear. To her surprise, the phone kept ringing. Its metallic cry dug into her ears, and she slammed the receiver back onto the base.
If anything, that seemed to make it worse. The ringing morphed into something twisted and cursed, like tinny screeching mixed with out-of-tune violins. Desperate to make the racket stop, Katherine picked up the phone again. The noise came to a halt, but it was replaced by static-y white noise, a low whine that refused to go away.
Katherine's voice trembled as she demanded, “Who's there? What is all of this noise?!”
A deep voice, slightly warbled but still understandable, answered, “Hey. I need you to do me a simple favor.”
“Who am I talking to? What do you mean, do you a favor?”
“You're worried, but you don't have to be. I just need you to hold the phone away from your ear, okay? And turn the receiver away from you. I need some space.”
Katherine's instincts told her to hang up immediately, but as she motioned to do so the demonic ringing began to return. This time the sound seemed to contain a taunting voice, jeering, “Don't do something you'll regret.” At this point she just wanted the noise to stop, and if following this creepy stranger's command was the only way to do it, then so be it. She did as he instructed, holding her free hand over her ear to try and block out the noise.
The receiver hissed and trembled as a viscous, pitch-like substance dripped out of the speaker and onto the floor. The drops coalesced into a lumpy mass and rose up into the shape of some kind of humanoid thing. It looked like a black man, but its eyes were pitch-black with white pupils. The skin under its eyes was covered in black cracks like shattered pottery. It was dangerously gaunt, and it peered down at Katherine with a hungry gap-toothed grin.
Katherine screamed and stepped back, bumping into the table. She wanted someone, anyone, to come save her, but she was just a latchkey kid with no siblings. Obviously calling the police was a no-go, and the neighbors wouldn’t believe that something out of a slasher was in her house — if she could even make it that far without getting killed. She crawled under the table and curled up into a ball out of desperation.
The creature bent down to look at her, still grinning. The short dreadlocks that framed its face dangled in the air. “Thanks for letting me in. You’re going through a lot right now.”
“Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me,” Katherine chanted to herself.
“Oh, killing isn’t my thing. I just want to make a deal.”
Katherine switched her chant to, “I won’t make deals with the Devil, I won’t make deals with the Devil.”
“You feel bad and your shirt’s getting worn,” Satan continued. “So how about this: I fix up your shirt, and as payment you let me calm you down.” He had a long wooden box slung over his shoulder with a leather strap. He took it off and opened it to reveal an array of high-quality sewing supplies, from needles in all sizes to colorful spools of thread. Everything was perfectly organized, and Katherine was mesmerized by the box’s beauty for a second.
But wait — that’s how the devil got you. “No! You’re going to steal my soul and take me to Hell! Leave me alone!”
Satan laughed. It sounded crooked and hysterical, like a hyena’s cry. “I don’t steal souls, I feed on emotions. I’m just asking for food as payment instead of money. It’s how I run my business, you know?”
“I’ll give you regular money! I have a lot saved up,” Katherine begged.
Satan seemed to consider her offer for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah. I’m not in the mood for money right now; I’m too hungry.” Despite his words, he suddenly stood up and began walking around the kitchen, looking at the furniture and opening up cabinets.
Katherine scooted to the other side of the table so she could watch him. “What… What are you doing?”
“Checking the place out until you say yes. Where are your parents?”
“I’m not agreeing,” Katherine insisted. “And they’re at work. They’re busy working real jobs instead of preying on innocent people.”
“Cool. It must suck being alone for this long, right? I’ve met a couple other kids like you and they don’t like it either.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being busy!”
Satan was finished investigating by now. He strode back to the table and crawled under it, sitting right in front of Katherine with his spindly legs pulled up to his chest. He was wearing brown boots that were covered in splatters of dried mud, and they left specks of filth on the floor. His neck was bent a little too far to his right so that he could fit properly. “I really get why you’re hiding under here. It’s so comfortable.”
Katherine screamed again and buried her head in her hands.
“Anyway, you do think there’s something wrong. Beneath all the fear and sadness, there’s some betrayal in there. If I had to guess, you’re upset that your parents are working boring nine-to-fives instead of being here to save you — you know, not that you need saving. Am I right?”
Katherine didn’t understand how the Devil’s guess had been so accurate. She was tired of coming home to an empty house every other day, cooking TV dinners and doing homework in her room with no one to talk to until it was late. When her parents got new jobs and moved to this neighborhood, that became the new norm. Why did it take meeting the Devil himself to realize how much she hated it?
She felt something tickle her arm. She looked up and saw that Satan was offering her a tissue. “I make my customers cry a lot, so I always keep a few of these handy.”
He was right; she actually was crying, for the second time that evening. She wiped her tears and blew her nose. “Why are you doing all of this? Scaring the daylights out of me, then acting like a therapist… I don’t get it. Since when has the Devil done that?”
Satan laughed again, even harder this time. “Look at me, neglecting to introduce myself. I’m not the Devil, I’m just a simple demon and a travelling tailor. Call me Landon Reed.”
“That’s a… normal name.”
“A normal name for a normal guy,” Landon said with a wink. “Now, why don’t you go get changed so I can fix your shirt?”
Katherine hesitantly got out from under the table and speedwalked to her room. She returned with her pastel yellow shirt in her hands, now wearing an old gray t-shirt instead. She also wore the cross necklace she kept in her jewelry box. Usually she wore it every day, but she’d been in a rush to get to school this morning and forgotten it. Hopefully it would be able to protect her from the demon, just in case. She stood awkwardly in front of the table, waiting for Landon to take a seat in one of the chairs.
Landon poked his head out and motioned for her to come under the table instead. “I meant it when I said it’s comfortable down here. C’mon in.”
Katherine gulped and crawled under the table again. Landon had his box open in front of him and was already preparing a needle and thread. “You don’t look comfortable. Your neck looks broken.”
Landon smiled as he got to work on her shirt. “Oh, I can’t really break my neck. I don’t have real bones. Nice necklace, by the way.”
Katherine’s stomach dropped and Landon added, “Was that scary? That’s the one thing I don’t understand about humans. It’s just a basic fact and a compliment, yet it smells like your stomach dropped.”
“In my defense, you nearly burst my eardrums, came into my home uninvited, nosed through my kitchen, the Lord doesn’t intimidate you, and you look like you’re half-dead. Who wouldn’t find you scary?” Katherine gripped her cross in her hand, desperately hoping that the power of Jesus would save her in case Landon took serious offense to her jab.
Instead, the demon hummed. “Good point. There’s nothing I can really do about any of that stuff, though.”
Katherine scoffed and decided to watch him work instead. His wrinkled fingers, dexterous despite their large size, worked quickly at putting her shirt’s hems back together. Landon seemed to work inhumanly fast, and in just fifteen minutes the shirt looked as good as new. He handed the shirt back to Katherine and said, “Here you go. Now it's time for the payment.”
Katherine shivered. She'd almost forgotten about how Landon expected her to pay him. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“The process is harmless. I'll give you a quick rundown of the rules. I’ll touch you, and your emotions will flow into me. It won't hurt at all, but you'll feel exhausted afterwards. This is just a temporary fix, so at some point you’ll feel sad again. I reserve the right to visit you again at any time if I'm in the mood for your sadness or any other of your emotions. Did you get all of that?”
“I don't want you to come back and I don't want to feel sleepy. I want you to leave me alone.”
Landon's grin grew wider, and the faint sound of static clouded the air. “Oh, don't get me wrong. I will be feeding on you and visiting whenever I want. I just like to have my customers’ agreement first. So, once again: did you get all of that?”
Somehow, now was the most frightened Katherine had felt all night. “I-I get it.”
“Great. Hold out your hands for me.” Landon took Katherine's small hands in his. His flesh felt oddly soft, and Katherine understood what he’d meant about not having bones. His grip tightened and he seemed to stare right through Katherine. Her eyes fluttered, and her breathing slowed. The angst surrounding her crush seemed to fade away, being pushed to the back of her memory — or rather, pulled out of her mind altogether. Why had she even been upset, again?
Landon’s voice, low and dreamy, made its way to her ears. “See? It’s not so bad. I’m going to put you to bed and…”
Katherine was fast asleep before he could finish his sentence. She came to hours later and found that she was lying on her side on the couch in the living room, which was connected to the kitchen. She felt groggy and her mouth tasted like drool. There was no sign of Landon, but her shirt was laying neatly folded on one of the couch’s arms. Her father was digging through the fridge for a snack, and her mother was sweeping under the table. “You’re finally awake, Kat. What’d I tell you about tracking dirt in the house?”
“Sorry, Ma. Won’t happen again.” Unless Landon comes back, she thought. She picked herself up, grabbed her shirt and returned to her room so she could start the homework she’d put off.
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writerblr intro !!
shalom! i'm shannon, i'm a university student majoring in writing (and psychology) and i'm an aspiring author :]
i'm joining the writerblr community after being off tumblr since high school in hopes of receiving feedback and to share my works with other writers !
i've written hundreds of poems and a bunch of short stories. i have one major wip that i've been working on for...seven years... and i hope to share bits and pieces of it here!
i primarily write sapphic stories and i plan on posting projects that i've written for fun/practice here, and as i mentioned previously, feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated !!
i'd love to get to know other writers in the community!! please feel free to dm or send an ask! writers grow best in the company of other writers after all :]
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Writeblr Intro
my name is haven, i use plural ey/em pronouns, and i'm an adult. i reblog most things (including random funny shit and other people's writing) on my main blog, @hghrules, which is also where I follow and like from.
i write prompt fills on here, but i also intend to start posting snippets of my current modern fantasy wip, Seven Lovely Sins (name pending).
i'm new to writeblr, but i'm totally open to ask games and events and anything else; if you send me an ask or something talking about your OCs or WIP, i will absolutely reply!
i also want to follow more writeblrs, so if anyone's up for a new mutual, feel free to interact with this post!
as for tags: all of my writing can be found under the tag #mine. prompt fills are under the tag #prompt fills, False Pretenses stuff is under #fp, and Seven Lovely Sins snippets are under the tag #SLS. anything i say that isn't writing is tagged #haven speaks.
Masterpost can be found here.
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Not Yet Given Works of NaNoWriMo pt.1
Photo by Zoltan Tasi on Unsplash
welcome to the pages of our Creation,
Introducing Constellations By Orion
Initial Concept:
Orion is the first one she goes for, as he always points North.
"I am just saying, your little stowaway is pretty cute."
"I don't need a man Orion, I need directions across the sea."
"Trust me, if you want a purpose, you should find Ursa Major. She's the guide of adventure, new life."
"And where can I find her?"
"At the heart of the ocean. She is the Guardian of Polaris and her baby, Ursa Minor."
~ high fantasy, action and adventure
~ third person point of view, present tense
~ found family, poorly ignored feelings, hidden identities, "come find me," follow the stars
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
World:
Aukura, The World Of the Seas and Skies
Given over the Ancients of the Seas and Skies, Aukura holds a handful of soft continents, cluttering Islands, and the Expanse of the Reflecting Waters. Holding a long-forgotten Gateway to the Galaxy, and laying witness to Leviathan and their Creations, the Lands and Waters are filled with Being and Beasts alike.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Magicks:
The Impossibility of the Worldfarers
Being born of stars and galaxies, the Worldfarers have a plethora of magicks to utilize. This would include telepathy, and basic prowess of Elemental Magicks, and Alchemy. They also have a natural inclination for spotting the Galaxy Gateway while in the Worlds and know of shifts in Balance, as they are connected to the Gateway itself. They can also have weapons that can be materialized through the marks on their skins, as well as being able to summon spirits of the stars, vestiges of long-forgotten Beings who thrived in the starstreams.
Creations of Emarasia's Reflection
Beings and Beasts born from the reflections of the Waters, the Creations of Leviathan are made in the image of the Stars and Constellations. Laying Witness to the Seas and giving love for the Stars, Leviathan chose to create Beings that pay tribute and devotion to his counterpart, the Ancients of the Skies and Firmament.
Childs of Leviathan
Beasts born from the depths of the Waters and given over to the image of the Serpent of the Seas himself, the Childs of Leviathan are those who were created through Emarasia’s devotion and adoration for her counterpart, the Ancient of the Seas and Stars. Giant sea serpents racing through the Oceans of Aukura and the Worlds beyond, the Childs show Emarasia’s love even as she watches over them from the Skies of her domain.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Characters:
Annabelle Lee "Bree" Blackwell
Daughter of a sailor who fell for the Myths of the Isles of Angels, and Captain of her own vessel, Bree holds little to no wonder for the Seas that she is more than comfortable with. Nothing more than one of the many of Humanity who have given her soul to the Seas, she lives with the waves of the Oceans more than the tremors of the Lands.
Given over to the stories that her father obsessed with, and believing in all of the mysteries of the stories that entangle the life of Sailors and Seafarers, she only needs a single hint before she is ready to drown in the same Knowledge as her father.
Marley Blake "Matt" Ash
Orphaned son raised by the Blackwell Family and given a new fascination for the Oceans of Aukura, Matt loves the waters of the Worlds more than anything else. Logical and levelheaded, he holds the position of the Right Hand of Bree, though his loyalty holds more sway than his thoughts.
Orion, Creation of Emarasia
The Guide of the Sailors and the Guardian of the Key of Leviathan, Orion is the Constellation that is most known for his desire to behold the Seas of his Creator and the Humanity of their World.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Status:
One of the Works of NaNoWriMo, we will be trying to give words and writings over to this Work.
Currently focused on worldbuilding and scene drafting, the project is still in development with both characters, societies, and the world.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Snippet:
“Come on Matt.”
Matt shakes his head, throws his dreadlocks over his shoulder as he pins her with a look.
“You know I love you Bree, but I have to draw a line when you start listening to the random words of your old man’s crazy rantings.”
She rolls her eyes, slams the letter down and gives him a look.
“I’ll have you know, my old man has never been wrong, even with all of his random rants. And more than that, we both know the Magic in the Ocean, and the Guidance of the Stars. You don’t grow up on the Edge and not hear about that.”
Matt raises a brow, unimpressed.
“And we both know those are just stories. Between the two of us, we have traveled through more water than anyone else and neither of us have found even a small hint as to where the Stars hide.”
“That’s true but Matt, I was looking through some of the old man’s research last night-”
“That can’t be good.”
“-and I found something interesting.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Like what we write? Buy us a coffee!
Constellations By Orion Tag List (here is the tagging post!)
| @andromedatalksaboutstuff | @bardic-tales | @lockejhaven | @midnight-and-his-melodiverse | @perasperaadastrawriting | @writingpotato07 |
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Not Yet Given Works of NaNoWriMo pt.2
Photo by Denis Vdovin on Unsplash
welcome the pages of our Creation,
Introducing Bentley's Resolve
Initial Concept:
Bentley Thaddeus Hawkes has always lived under the influence of the Reapers. Giving himself to the soft whispers of Knowledge of his mentors, he has held faith in the abilities of his World and their purpose.
Until a mysterious man comes, unraveling more than the Knowledge Bentley has clung to and showing him that even the most orderly societies holds more than just the darkness of the Phantoms.
~ high fantasy, steampunk, mystery, murder horror
~ third person point of view, present tense, two perspectives
~ murder mysteries, ignorance is bliss, curiosity killed the cat, morally grey killers, lives interrupted
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
World:
Mumera, the Spirit Continent
Source of Knowledge for the Realm of Spirits, Mumera boasts Libraries and scholars from all over the Lands, seeking the truth in many areas of the Storyverse.
Home to the Phantom Archives, and the supercontinent of Monivion, it houses many of Humanity and People of Magicks alike.
Monivion, the Country of Ghost and Shadows
Country to many Reapers, Monivion gives Knowledge to all who seek it. Many scholars and lore hide within the cobbled streets, and the Law and Order of the Land disguise the Corruption and Insanity lying beneath the seams.
Azaferra, the City of Steel and Steam
Capital of Monivion, Azeferra holds the Ghost Station, the Phantom Archives, and the Reaper’s Academy. Living with a layer of Law and Order that holds deeper and darker secrets, the City holds the compliance of all who reside within the limits.
Aleanara, the Ghost Station
Home to the largest Station in Monivion, Aleanara is home to the biggest hub of merchant trade and seeker’s knowledge. Holding the The Phantom Archives, and most of Monivion’s residents, it is the place for most of the gray areas of Life within Mumera.
The Phantom Archives
Library of Monivion, it holds Knowledge of Reapers and Spirits, the soul searcher’s paradise for any information regarding things long lost or forsaken by the Natural Realm.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Magicks:
The Blessings of the Reapers
Creations of the Dragon of Death and blessed by their Author, Reapers hold the abilities to shift from the Planes of Life and Death. Guarding the souls of the Beings of the Realms and guiding the dead back to their Creator, they hold the abilities of Salvation and Eradication. Able to save souls and bring about destruction of demons and ghosts, they given themselves to Death in order to keep the Balance of Life.
The Phantom’s Curse
Wrought from the Reaper’s Taboo of devouring souls without salvation, the Phantoms are birthed from the Blight and Corruption that twist the entire embodiment of their Creation. Trapped between the borders of Life and Death, they lurk and corrupt everything and everyone who hold the misfortune of capturing their attention. Only seen by those with the eyes hiding the Sight, Phantoms are drawn to Life itself.
A Shade’s Contract
Binding by the darker desires of the mind, Shades hold the ability to grant wishes at the price of the soul. Feeding off negativity and darkness, they slowly destroy the mind and soul of whoever they bind themselves to.
The Knowledge of the Observers
Created by the Three themselves and blessed by Time, the Observers hold the Knowledge of the Worlds within their mind. Having the ability to note every whisper of Beings and Beast, they hold Knowledge without spoken thought.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Societies:
Eggatian Railway Order
Keeping track of the balance that the steampunk line holds, the Order keeps tabs on all things along the railways. Working with the Society to ensure that Law is upheld, the Order always compliments the thought of “out of sight, out of mind.”
The Guardians of the Reapers
The true saviors and guardians of the World, Reapers hold a soft organization to ensure the Balance of Life and Death. Hiding themselves among the Beings of Humanity, they keep watch over the souls of their territories, holding up within cemeteries and Cities.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Characters:
Bentley Thaddeus Hawkes
Given the task of following the trail of dead bodies now littering the train stations of Monivion, Bentley goes out of his way to contribute to the Society that gave him life after the Worlds forsook him. Finding Grayland, and the Shade that possesses him leads him down a slippery ride of ambiguous gray areas of Law and Order.
Grayland Edgar Shade
Man of curiosity and impossibility, he holds host to a Shade that gives them the urge to find the breaking point of Humanity. Driven by his desire for Knowledge, he attempts the horrors that many would condemn and destroy. Finding interest in a Reaper who simply follows the blind command of his Kind, he allows himself to be entangled in the fall of a civilization so that he may lay witness to Bentley’s fall into the Realities of the Worlds.
Maria Temperance Spencer
Curious and bright, Maria, also known as Mary, is a child of the World that pushes innovation and connection. Holding to the thought that anyone can be of inspiration, she takes the chance that Grayland gives her.
Isabella Lorena Cogwright
Founder of the Reaper’s Society, she leads with the firm instruction that the World lives in a balance of yin and yang. Known to make decisions based on principles and ethics, she gives little insight to the gray that surrounds Monivion.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Status:
Holding two outlines and prepped in order to be one of the main works for NaNoWriMo. Currently scene drafting and shifting through the outlines.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Snippet:
cw: blood, monster attacks, death mention, vague violence
They settle on solid ground, Grayland blinking as the young man pulls away from him, a smile on his lips.
"Here we are, mister. Eggatia, the Ember Reach. You have made it into Mumera, just as promised."
Grayland hums, eyes taking in the night sky with slight amusement. A drowned horn sounds in the distance, and the lad shifts towards it, gesturing for Grayland to follow.
"That's the train. The World is built upon train tracks and steam engines. But if you catch a ride to Aleanara, it'll get you right to the Phantom Archives. Just like you want."
They reach the hub, Grayland taking in the sleepy World, with barely a soul in sight. The boy turns back to him, holds out his hand.
"So. I've got you here. Fair enough to ask for the exchange of goods?" Grayland gives an easy smile, shifting to place a hand into his pocket.
"Of course, my dear lad. You did give your services. Edgar, his wages."
The young man blinks, eyes shifting into a smile, question on his lips. Grayland barely pays it heed, the voice not making it past as its drowned out by the Shade attacking.
The blood splatters as the Shade bleeds out from the ground, chewing as breaking apart the child until nothing remains. Grayland dusts himself off, a sigh lifting as he takes in the stains to his clothing.
"Really Edgar, you would think you wouldn't be so crass with the kills, considering I am the one the Worlds see."
A guttural laugh is all he gets, Grayland rolling his eyes as the Shade bleeds back into the shadows. He shifts focus, eyes taking in the sleepy World around him again before noting a pair leaving the station, suits settled nicely on them as he takes them in.
A smile forms and Grayland moves, walking right by the pair without any suspicion, the Shade curling his shadow into Magicks.
"A classy Land, Mumera is. Let us join the people, Edgar. We have work to do."
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Like what we write? Buy us a coffee!
Bentley's Resolve Tag List (here is the tagging post!)
| @andromedatalksaboutstuff | @bardic-tales | @lockejhaven | @midnight-and-his-melodiverse | @perasperaadastrawriting |
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»»—————————- 𓆩❤︎𓆪 —————————-««
Made some concept covers for Faefinder and having a really hard time deciding which one I like best, so figured I'd go to my tag list for this one! Which ones do y'all prefer?
»»—————————- 𓆩❤︎𓆪 —————————-««
~ Of Fables & Feathers,
🕊️ Locke J. Haven
locket’s tags:
╔═════════════════════╗
@365runesofwriting
@enchanted-lightning-aes
@thepixiediaries
@midnight-and-his-melodiverse
@perasperaadastrawriting
@fearofahumanplanet
@orphicpoieses
@wildswrites
[ your tag could be here… ]
╚═════════════════════╝
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The Not Yet Abandoned Works pt.5
Photo by Isaac Mehegan on Unsplash
welcome to the pages of our Creation
Introducing the Vagabond Child,
Initial Concept:
It had been a while since the Incident.
Not many people came by anymore, no one daring to venture into the wilderness that had taken over their utopia.
Those who did manage to get out of the beds and away from their homes were Scavengers, ghosts in search of the glory of the Old Days.
~ dystopian, survival, speculative fiction, low fantasy
~ third person, present tense
~ environmental devastation, hopeless future, strangers to guardian/charge, hope in the hopeless, found family
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
World:
Kliomela, the World of the Broken Moon
Ravaged by environmental disaster and Humanity's destruction, Kliomela is a dying World full of the devastated Lands and people. Most await the end of the Worlds, when finality comes, and others seeming scavenge, looking for the memories of the times before the World was destroyed.
Trogas, the Scavenger's Fields
The graveyard of what was once Humanity's domain, Trogas is the personification of their destruction. Holding most of the Lands hostage under the trash piles of forsaken History, it is known as the Scavenger's Fields. Many people dig through the ruins, hoping to find something to take with them to the grave.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Magicks:
The Knowledge of the Observers:
Created by the Three themselves and blessed by Time, the Observers hold the Knowledge of the Worlds within their mind. Having the ability to note every whisper of Beings and Beast, they hold Knowledge without spoken thought.
The Tenderness of the Herbalists:
Blessed by the Ancients and given the Nature, Herbalists hold the abilities to manipulate the Lands. Holding a Connection to Nature that most cannot replicate, they give themselves to the plants and animals and bodies and Worlds.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Societies:
The Scavengers:
Those who hold nothing but quiet resignation in the ending of their World, the Scavengers are those who simply wander through the fields, collecting relics and surviving until they expire.
The Lost:
Nothing more than breathing corpses, the Lost are those who were destroyed along with the World. Either abandoning the World for the fantasies of their minds, or lost when the World ended, the Lost hold nothing in reality.
The Ignorant:
Ignoring the Realities of the World and pretending the past is now, the Ignorant show the delusional foolish endeavors of those who hold nothing but their memories and the forsaken Histories.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Characters:
The Man:
World worn and forfeiting the hope of better days and Salvation, the Man is a Scavenger who simply wanders through the days, awaiting the end that will come either from his body or the World.
The Child:
Found and rescued by The Man and given new meaning as a Scavenger, the Child is silent and observing. More than intelligent and with something greater than the need or the desire to survive, she holds a light inside her that not even the dying World would be able to extinguish.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Status:
Currently scene drafting and figuring out how the story will be told. Everything is leaning towards it being shorter scenes and little drabbles, more in a timeline order but being able to stand alone by themselves.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Snippet:
Small tears, barely there, start to stream down her face, puddling near her ears as her breathing slowly begins to hitch. He hands grip the blanket tighter and even her body seems to start to curl in.
Nightmares, or memories, neither too good by the looks of it.
He waits for a minute, before he moves.
He wipes away the tears, moves a gentle hand across her face before settling it on her head and patting it gently.
A few more hiccups escape before the child calms, before her body relaxes, before the only sounds is a soft rustling as he runs a hand over her hair.
He stops only after her face smooths out completely, only after the last of the nightmares leave and her tears finally recede.
He sighs, gives her one more look before laying down himself, his back touching the hard mattress and his eyes catching the night sky.
The stars don’t shine anymore, they simply glow, small dots of a past long abandoned.
The moon, hovering close and breaking apart, glows a dull hue, no longer able to shine like it once did.
But he doesn’t mind, not when the child moves, unconscious desire pulling her closer to him where she settles, small hands gripping him instead of the blankets.
He sleeps, huddles close to the child, waits for a day that may not come.
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Goddess-Touched Snippet - (8/?)
Missed MSM yesterday, so happy TMSTuesday!
Word Count: 380
Content Warnings: N/A (let me know if you find something that needs a warning)
POV: Andy
In which Andy has trouble working on a group project.
“Ember, how much does a ship weigh?”
“Uh.” They trail off, long enough for me to notice. I look up, find them staring at the assistant Priestess ducking in to drop off a scale, and catch their eyes when they shake themself back. “A lot.”
Headscarf. The Vii Priestess again. “That’s not very specific.”
“Why would I know the exact numbers?”
“Because--” Because I would, if I had the chance to know, or to know that I didn’t know it at all. “--you built them for a living.”
“I’m just the laborer. I know the local maritime engineers died in the initial wave, but... I mean, if they left notes, you should get them. Or have you sent for others from other cities?”
Dama nods. “Travel is slow. Another week, perhaps.”
“Well...” Ember shrugs. “I mean, you’ll probably have to build it from scratch, right? Estimate. Add a few hundred pounds for every person you expect to board, with their luggage and food.”
I try not to break the skin of my lower lip when I bite it, try not to let on the frustration building from so few shuffling steps and so few known factors. From the warring between texture and expectation, the presence of other people working on my project even though they’re here to help. Even though I need them. Even though I love Ember as much as I love Annie and Gab.
Even though this is a necessity, not an experiment.
I wish I could build this on my own.
“Right. I’ll just figure out how much wood weighs. Accurately and quickly.”
They sigh. Minister Dama quietly urges me back to the weight experiments with the pendulum.
The frustration doesn’t stop building until the voices behind the bamboo dividers, the burning brightness of the sun, and Ember’s nearly-helpful presence all fade away, leaving me alone with Dama and my designs, the last dregs of sunlight trickling through the vents and skylights like the honey mom pours on her pancakes.
By the time I realize I should probably be going home, too, Dama is stretching her back, a sign I learned long ago usually means I’m getting ready to leave.
“May I walk you to the square?” she asks, as I bundle Wrench back into my bag and shoulder it.
“Sure.”
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