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SF's "Write Your Butt Off" II - Return of Writer's Block


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SF's Write Your Butt Off! II Votals  

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  1. 1. Which submission will you vote for?

    • "The Heart of Dedication"
      0
    • "The Strength Within"
      5
    • "Simply a Hunter"
      0
    • "One More Time"
      3
    • "Perfected"
      2
    • "No One Is Iredeemable"
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    • "Going Forward"
      1

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  • Poll closed on 03/09/2019 at 10:00 PM

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I've sat on this long enough.  My entry is here.  It was one of the longer ones I've written.

Title: A Night To Remeber

Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Words: 2,304

Spoiler

Mira groaned as she came to.  Her head had a pounding ache unlike anything she'd ever experienced.  The Nord woman wanted to be violently ill but somehow she knew that she shouldn't.  A priestess was glaring at her and the Nord knew something was up.  She gripped her head and tried to figure out how she got into this mess.

 

“Hmph, so you're finally awake you foolish girl!” The priestess of...Dibella?  Mira wasn't sure which divine since she had a hard time keeping track of the Nine- Eight.  Or however many damned divines of Tamriel there were.

“Wh-what...unn..what happened?” Mira asked, her voice raspy.  She was normally soft spoken- a scholar, most unusual for a Nord and due to her tiny stature, not very good with much other than daggers and bows.

“Well you trashed the temple didn't you?”

“I...I did?” Mira frowned, “I..” she sighed, “I don't recall-”

“Of course you wouldn't!” the woman snapped,

“Look.” Mira said beginning to lose her patience, “Let's just keep this short and sweet.  I apparently trashed the temple of a divine-”

“Yes you idiot girl!”

“And you expect me to fix it right?” Mira said glaring at the priestess now.  Her pale ice blue eyes glinted with the faintest hint of a small secret. Mira rarely dared to glare at people.  Apparently the young Nord's glare was such that no one could ignore whatever she demanded. It didn't help that her pupils were slightly slit.  Of course everyone assumed she was part Argonian, but that wasn't actually the case. Mira was, in fact the…

“Of...of course Dragonborn.”

“Then what do you need me to do?” Mira asked,

“A contribution would suffice.” the priestess said still shaken

Mira let the woman's gazed go and rubbed her pounding head.  She felt her hair was out and sighed, “50,000 gold?” Mira asked, pulling the pouch out.  The priestess’ eyes widened and she sighed

“Damn nobles.” She muttered but she spoke, “You were quite drunk when you arrived, and most if it was slurred but you did mention something about Rorikstead.  Perhaps you should take a look there.”

Mira sighed and lowered her head,

“I appreciate the information.”

“Yes, yes!  Now off with you!” the priestess snapped.

 

Mira left the temple and felt her vampire blood boil in the sunlight.  A groan escaped her. She should have asked what time of day it was. A sigh escaped her as she quickly drew up her hood.

 

That damned Sam!

 

She was going to make the fool pay for this when she got her hands on him.  Now she had the divines awful task of travelling to Rorikstead on foot. Worse still she had to deal with a pounding headache and the cursed sun!

 

She grumbled the entire way to Markarth Stables.  Mira was looking for a horse to hire to make her trip easier.  Though she could have gone on a vampiric rampage she was so angry at her current situation.  Mira sighed, quelling her anger, since as the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold she was very smart, and knew that would prove fruitless.  Oh if the students could see her now.

 

Mira groaned.

 

She came to the stables and the stable master said, “Sorry Miss, ain't got no ‘orses fo’ ‘ire.”

Mira groaned mentally.  The day was off to a great start, and she wondered why she'd got so drunk in the first place.  A courier suddenly came up to her and said, rather calmly,

“Excuse me, are you Mira Dragonslayer?”

Mira sighed and replied, “Yes.”

“Ah, good, I have something for you, it's a letter from a Jarl.  You must be moving up in the world.” he said with a grin and handed Mira the letter, “Well, that's all.  Got to go.”

 

Once the courier left Mira made her way to the coaches that travelled through Skyrim.  She made her way to the driver and spoke with him. Apparently, they were going to Solitude, and no, they were not going to Rorikstead.  Mira sighed. She really was screwed. She made a vow to never get so drunk again. Especially since she couldn't hold her ale well.

 

Mira had a sudden inspiration to have a look at her journal and noticed that thankfully her writing was unaffected.  She had wrote about a previous encounter about a drinking contest for a staff...and she drew a blank. Angrily the young vampire lord shoved her book into her pack and let out a deep sigh.

 

She eventually made it to Rorikstead, though she was not too happy about it.  The divines had a good laugh when she was suddenly approached by an angry looking redguard.

 

“You've got some nerve coming back here you Nordish brute!” the scrawny looking man said.  Mira sighed,

“I'm sure you have every reason to be upset,” she began, “unfortunately for you, I don't actually recall wronging you in the first place.”

“Well that's not good enough!” he snapped, “My prized goat Gleda was kidnapped by you and sold to a giant!  You'd better damn well remember or I'll have the guards haul you off!”

Mira glared at the redguard and said in a low, dark tone,

“I'll bring back your stupid goat.  But I expect a full explanation when I return of what happened.  No excuses, and no lies.”

The redguard paled but he did nod, “Well, you'll have to find the giant...and he was in the wilds out to the east.”

 

Mira cursed.  Oh the divines were having a good laugh at her expense as she was trying to avoid the giant's weapons and keep the damn goat alive.  She pulled out her ebony bow, and the ebony arrows she'd made and focused on getting a clear shot to the giant's chest.

 

All of the training with the Companions really helped her and she smiled at the thought of what her shield siblings would say about taking a giant down in one blow.  She had been a werewolf once. But out of respect for Kodlak Whitemane, she cleansed herself of lycanthropy.

 

With the goat following her she returned and the redguard blinked, “You...actually found her!”

“Of course I did.” Mira didn't need to mention that she'd looted the giant for the alchemical ingredients it was packing, “So care to explain what happened?” Mira asked him as he retethered his goat.  The dark skinned man sighed,

“Well it was a bit hard to follow but, you apparently were ‘repaying Ysolda in Whiterun’.  It was all I could make out.”

Mira frowned.

 

More walking.

 

The divines were, she decided, having a riot of a time.  She sighed and begged Akatosh to spare her puny soul from the likely horrors that awaited her in Whiterun.  Finding Ysolda was easy enough. She hoped that Akatosh heard her prayer. Oh how much harder her life was to become when she spoke to the merchant.

 

“So you finally made it back.” Ysolda said with what seemed to be an unhappy expression, “Look, I've been very patient but you still owe me.”

Mira sighed,

“How do I owe?” she asked,

“It's not about the money,” Ysolda sighed, “really.  I wouldn't have given you the wedding ring on credit if you weren't so obviously in love.  The least you can do is to give it back. It was one of my best pieces.”

Mira sighed, “I've been getting that a lot of late.”

Ysolda winced sympathetically, “Aw, what's wrong did the engagement fall through?” Mira nodded, playing along, “Look how about we call it even as long as you bring the ring back?  That really a shame, I was looking forward to the wedding. You'd said you'd have all the most interesting guests.”

“Do you know what I did with it?” Mira asked cautiously,

“Took it to your fiancé you did.  Do you not remember where you left him?” Ysolda asked, “Especially after the sweetest story you told me about how you both met in the Witchmist Grove?  I can see why he left you.”

Mira heaved a sigh.  This was beginning to get very bad, very quickly.

 

The journey to Witchmist Grove was a very dreary one.  Rain fell from the sky, a welcome relief for her, it meant the sun was not as bad as before, though it still burned her vampire blood.  Mira noticed that there was a rundown shack and she winced. This was going to be a brilliant day.

 

When she approach she should have known that there was a hagraven waiting for her.  Mira couldn't help the sickened feeling from creeping into her gut. A hagraven?  One of the most vile, twisted beings in all of Skyrim, a being whom sickened Mira to no end was her fianceé?!  Mira tried to ask for the ring back, but the hagraven predictably attacked her.  Mira having all of the pent up fury of having to spend all of the time in the sun lost control and morphed into her Vampire Lord form.  Of course the hagraven didn't know Mira was a vampire lord. So when Mira made use of her impressive powers, it didn't end well for the poor thing.  Only when the soft light of the moon peeked through the clouds did Mira change back. She stood over the lifeless corpse and the look of disdain on her face was clear, “Filthy beast.” Mira muttered.  Who would have thought drinking could lead to such problems as this?

 

By the time Mira arrived back at Whiterun, the moon was beginning to make the land more appealing.  The reds became redder and night gave Mira a much needed coolness. Her blood stopped boiling and she was able to really move.  She sprinted the entire way.

 

Ysolda near jumped when she saw the breathtaking blond Nord who approached her at the inn and returned the ring to her.  She was surprised by how apologetic the Nord was. Then she realised it was the girl from before. “Your skin is...as pale as the snow, are you scared of sunlight?” Ysolda asked, then she giggled, “Well at any rate I'm sorry things didn't work out for you.  You were so excited about the wedding. You kept saying it would be held at Morvunskar and it would be a huge ceremony. You even mentioned a magic staff that would handle all of the guests.” she added.

“I see.” the Nord said softly, “Thank you Ysolda.  I believe I have everything I need.”

 

Mira left Whiterun.  The trip took a few hours and she arrived just as the sun was beginning to strip her of her strength and her blood began to boil.  She allowed herself to go on a vampiric rampage and she floated towards the door. Unlike in her werewolf form, Mira had enough presence of mind to operate doors and pick locks and generally be able to move about for general mischief.  She got the door opened and was annoyed.

 

More enemies to deal with.  She was sure that the divines were being cruel on purpose.

 

By the time she was done she had reverted once more to her human form.  She didn't enjoy shifting around the place as a vampire lord all of the time and she could lay the blame on Harkon for that.

 

She soon found herself standing before a portal of some kind and as she looked at it, she knew that it was the last piece of the puzzle.

 

“Ah!  You're finally here!” Mira glared at the fool and he grinned widely, “I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it.”

Mira spoke coolly, “It was quite a trip.  Where are we?”

Sam just smiled, “Oh I thought you might not remember your first trip here.  You had a big night~! I think you've definitely earned the staff.”

Mira sighed, “Well I have all of the things you asked for to repair it.” She said and Sam smiled widely,

“Yes about that...you didn't really need to.  You see...I just wanted to encourage you to head out and spread some merriment.  And you did just that! It was the most entertaining thing I'd seen in a hundred years at least!” he laughed, Mira frowned,

“So...this whole thing was just a prank?!” Mira’s voice raised an octave.  Sam frowned,

Just a prank?!  Just a prank?!  The Daedric Lord of Debauchery does not deal in mere pranks!” Sam said as his body began to shift.  Mira should have known he was a damn Daedric Prince. Who else could cause such misfortune. It was Molag Bal all over again.  Sam continued, “This may have began as a mild amusement but it wasn't long before I realised you'd be a worthy bearer of my not-quite-holy staff.”

Mira sigh, “Sanguine, I should have known.” she groaned, “You're even worse than Molag Bal.”

“Now, now don't lump me in with him!” the Daedric Prince said, “Though I do like the daughters of Coldharbour, like the pretty little thing that is you.”

Mira glowered, “So you know about that little secret of mine hmm?  Why should I be surprised?”

Sanguine grinned widely, “Well, well I was right.  But what would dear Akatosh think of his child running around being-”

“I was changed back to a human at the time Al-du-in came back.  I have an appointment with him, don't you worry.”

Sanguine laughed, “Well, as interesting as this little chat has been, I think it's time for you to go.  Wouldn't be fun to keep you locked up here with the staff now would it?”

Mira was about to respond when she suddenly appeared in The Dead Man's Drink in Falkreath.  Luckily for the Dovahkiin, no one seemed the wiser. She closed her eyes and vowed to never drink like that again.

 

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On 1/2/2019 at 6:43 PM, TheSilentChloey said:

I've sat on this long enough.  My entry is here.  It was one of the longer ones I've written.

Title: A Night To Remeber

Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim

Words: 2,304

  Reveal hidden contents

Mira groaned as she came to.  Her head had a pounding ache unlike anything she'd ever experienced.  The Nord woman wanted to be violently ill but somehow she knew that she shouldn't.  A priestess was glaring at her and the Nord knew something was up.  She gripped her head and tried to figure out how she got into this mess.

 

“Hmph, so you're finally awake you foolish girl!” The priestess of...Dibella?  Mira wasn't sure which divine since she had a hard time keeping track of the Nine- Eight.  Or however many damned divines of Tamriel there were.

“Wh-what...unn..what happened?” Mira asked, her voice raspy.  She was normally soft spoken- a scholar, most unusual for a Nord and due to her tiny stature, not very good with much other than daggers and bows.

“Well you trashed the temple didn't you?”

“I...I did?” Mira frowned, “I..” she sighed, “I don't recall-”

“Of course you wouldn't!” the woman snapped,

“Look.” Mira said beginning to lose her patience, “Let's just keep this short and sweet.  I apparently trashed the temple of a divine-”

“Yes you idiot girl!”

“And you expect me to fix it right?” Mira said glaring at the priestess now.  Her pale ice blue eyes glinted with the faintest hint of a small secret. Mira rarely dared to glare at people.  Apparently the young Nord's glare was such that no one could ignore whatever she demanded. It didn't help that her pupils were slightly slit.  Of course everyone assumed she was part Argonian, but that wasn't actually the case. Mira was, in fact the…

“Of...of course Dragonborn.”

“Then what do you need me to do?” Mira asked,

“A contribution would suffice.” the priestess said still shaken

Mira let the woman's gazed go and rubbed her pounding head.  She felt her hair was out and sighed, “50,000 gold?” Mira asked, pulling the pouch out.  The priestess’ eyes widened and she sighed

“Damn nobles.” She muttered but she spoke, “You were quite drunk when you arrived, and most if it was slurred but you did mention something about Rorikstead.  Perhaps you should take a look there.”

Mira sighed and lowered her head,

“I appreciate the information.”

“Yes, yes!  Now off with you!” the priestess snapped.

 

Mira left the temple and felt her vampire blood boil in the sunlight.  A groan escaped her. She should have asked what time of day it was. A sigh escaped her as she quickly drew up her hood.

 

That damned Sam!

 

She was going to make the fool pay for this when she got her hands on him.  Now she had the divines awful task of travelling to Rorikstead on foot. Worse still she had to deal with a pounding headache and the cursed sun!

 

She grumbled the entire way to Markarth Stables.  Mira was looking for a horse to hire to make her trip easier.  Though she could have gone on a vampiric rampage she was so angry at her current situation.  Mira sighed, quelling her anger, since as the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold she was very smart, and knew that would prove fruitless.  Oh if the students could see her now.

 

Mira groaned.

 

She came to the stables and the stable master said, “Sorry Miss, ain't got no ‘orses fo’ ‘ire.”

Mira groaned mentally.  The day was off to a great start, and she wondered why she'd got so drunk in the first place.  A courier suddenly came up to her and said, rather calmly,

“Excuse me, are you Mira Dragonslayer?”

Mira sighed and replied, “Yes.”

“Ah, good, I have something for you, it's a letter from a Jarl.  You must be moving up in the world.” he said with a grin and handed Mira the letter, “Well, that's all.  Got to go.”

 

Once the courier left Mira made her way to the coaches that travelled through Skyrim.  She made her way to the driver and spoke with him. Apparently, they were going to Solitude, and no, they were not going to Rorikstead.  Mira sighed. She really was screwed. She made a vow to never get so drunk again. Especially since she couldn't hold her ale well.

 

Mira had a sudden inspiration to have a look at her journal and noticed that thankfully her writing was unaffected.  She had wrote about a previous encounter about a drinking contest for a staff...and she drew a blank. Angrily the young vampire lord shoved her book into her pack and let out a deep sigh.

 

She eventually made it to Rorikstead, though she was not too happy about it.  The divines had a good laugh when she was suddenly approached by an angry looking redguard.

 

“You've got some nerve coming back here you Nordish brute!” the scrawny looking man said.  Mira sighed,

“I'm sure you have every reason to be upset,” she began, “unfortunately for you, I don't actually recall wronging you in the first place.”

“Well that's not good enough!” he snapped, “My prized goat Gleda was kidnapped by you and sold to a giant!  You'd better damn well remember or I'll have the guards haul you off!”

Mira glared at the redguard and said in a low, dark tone,

“I'll bring back your stupid goat.  But I expect a full explanation when I return of what happened.  No excuses, and no lies.”

The redguard paled but he did nod, “Well, you'll have to find the giant...and he was in the wilds out to the east.”

 

Mira cursed.  Oh the divines were having a good laugh at her expense as she was trying to avoid the giant's weapons and keep the damn goat alive.  She pulled out her ebony bow, and the ebony arrows she'd made and focused on getting a clear shot to the giant's chest.

 

All of the training with the Companions really helped her and she smiled at the thought of what her shield siblings would say about taking a giant down in one blow.  She had been a werewolf once. But out of respect for Kodlak Whitemane, she cleansed herself of lycanthropy.

 

With the goat following her she returned and the redguard blinked, “You...actually found her!”

“Of course I did.” Mira didn't need to mention that she'd looted the giant for the alchemical ingredients it was packing, “So care to explain what happened?” Mira asked him as he retethered his goat.  The dark skinned man sighed,

“Well it was a bit hard to follow but, you apparently were ‘repaying Ysolda in Whiterun’.  It was all I could make out.”

Mira frowned.

 

More walking.

 

The divines were, she decided, having a riot of a time.  She sighed and begged Akatosh to spare her puny soul from the likely horrors that awaited her in Whiterun.  Finding Ysolda was easy enough. She hoped that Akatosh heard her prayer. Oh how much harder her life was to become when she spoke to the merchant.

 

“So you finally made it back.” Ysolda said with what seemed to be an unhappy expression, “Look, I've been very patient but you still owe me.”

Mira sighed,

“How do I owe?” she asked,

“It's not about the money,” Ysolda sighed, “really.  I wouldn't have given you the wedding ring on credit if you weren't so obviously in love.  The least you can do is to give it back. It was one of my best pieces.”

Mira sighed, “I've been getting that a lot of late.”

Ysolda winced sympathetically, “Aw, what's wrong did the engagement fall through?” Mira nodded, playing along, “Look how about we call it even as long as you bring the ring back?  That really a shame, I was looking forward to the wedding. You'd said you'd have all the most interesting guests.”

“Do you know what I did with it?” Mira asked cautiously,

“Took it to your fiancé you did.  Do you not remember where you left him?” Ysolda asked, “Especially after the sweetest story you told me about how you both met in the Witchmist Grove?  I can see why he left you.”

Mira heaved a sigh.  This was beginning to get very bad, very quickly.

 

The journey to Witchmist Grove was a very dreary one.  Rain fell from the sky, a welcome relief for her, it meant the sun was not as bad as before, though it still burned her vampire blood.  Mira noticed that there was a rundown shack and she winced. This was going to be a brilliant day.

 

When she approach she should have known that there was a hagraven waiting for her.  Mira couldn't help the sickened feeling from creeping into her gut. A hagraven?  One of the most vile, twisted beings in all of Skyrim, a being whom sickened Mira to no end was her fianceé?!  Mira tried to ask for the ring back, but the hagraven predictably attacked her.  Mira having all of the pent up fury of having to spend all of the time in the sun lost control and morphed into her Vampire Lord form.  Of course the hagraven didn't know Mira was a vampire lord. So when Mira made use of her impressive powers, it didn't end well for the poor thing.  Only when the soft light of the moon peeked through the clouds did Mira change back. She stood over the lifeless corpse and the look of disdain on her face was clear, “Filthy beast.” Mira muttered.  Who would have thought drinking could lead to such problems as this?

 

By the time Mira arrived back at Whiterun, the moon was beginning to make the land more appealing.  The reds became redder and night gave Mira a much needed coolness. Her blood stopped boiling and she was able to really move.  She sprinted the entire way.

 

Ysolda near jumped when she saw the breathtaking blond Nord who approached her at the inn and returned the ring to her.  She was surprised by how apologetic the Nord was. Then she realised it was the girl from before. “Your skin is...as pale as the snow, are you scared of sunlight?” Ysolda asked, then she giggled, “Well at any rate I'm sorry things didn't work out for you.  You were so excited about the wedding. You kept saying it would be held at Morvunskar and it would be a huge ceremony. You even mentioned a magic staff that would handle all of the guests.” she added.

“I see.” the Nord said softly, “Thank you Ysolda.  I believe I have everything I need.”

 

Mira left Whiterun.  The trip took a few hours and she arrived just as the sun was beginning to strip her of her strength and her blood began to boil.  She allowed herself to go on a vampiric rampage and she floated towards the door. Unlike in her werewolf form, Mira had enough presence of mind to operate doors and pick locks and generally be able to move about for general mischief.  She got the door opened and was annoyed.

 

More enemies to deal with.  She was sure that the divines were being cruel on purpose.

 

By the time she was done she had reverted once more to her human form.  She didn't enjoy shifting around the place as a vampire lord all of the time and she could lay the blame on Harkon for that.

 

She soon found herself standing before a portal of some kind and as she looked at it, she knew that it was the last piece of the puzzle.

 

“Ah!  You're finally here!” Mira glared at the fool and he grinned widely, “I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it.”

Mira spoke coolly, “It was quite a trip.  Where are we?”

Sam just smiled, “Oh I thought you might not remember your first trip here.  You had a big night~! I think you've definitely earned the staff.”

Mira sighed, “Well I have all of the things you asked for to repair it.” She said and Sam smiled widely,

“Yes about that...you didn't really need to.  You see...I just wanted to encourage you to head out and spread some merriment.  And you did just that! It was the most entertaining thing I'd seen in a hundred years at least!” he laughed, Mira frowned,

“So...this whole thing was just a prank?!” Mira’s voice raised an octave.  Sam frowned,

Just a prank?!  Just a prank?!  The Daedric Lord of Debauchery does not deal in mere pranks!” Sam said as his body began to shift.  Mira should have known he was a damn Daedric Prince. Who else could cause such misfortune. It was Molag Bal all over again.  Sam continued, “This may have began as a mild amusement but it wasn't long before I realised you'd be a worthy bearer of my not-quite-holy staff.”

Mira sigh, “Sanguine, I should have known.” she groaned, “You're even worse than Molag Bal.”

“Now, now don't lump me in with him!” the Daedric Prince said, “Though I do like the daughters of Coldharbour, like the pretty little thing that is you.”

Mira glowered, “So you know about that little secret of mine hmm?  Why should I be surprised?”

Sanguine grinned widely, “Well, well I was right.  But what would dear Akatosh think of his child running around being-”

“I was changed back to a human at the time Al-du-in came back.  I have an appointment with him, don't you worry.”

Sanguine laughed, “Well, as interesting as this little chat has been, I think it's time for you to go.  Wouldn't be fun to keep you locked up here with the staff now would it?”

Mira was about to respond when she suddenly appeared in The Dead Man's Drink in Falkreath.  Luckily for the Dovahkiin, no one seemed the wiser. She closed her eyes and vowed to never drink like that again.

 

*takes a grand total of about three days*
*says
she's sat on it long enough as though it's been weeks*

Dang it, Chloey, quit making me feel even slower than I actually am.

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3 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

*takes a grand total of about three days*
*says
she's sat on it long enough as though it's been weeks*

Dang it, Chloey, quit making me feel even slower than I actually am.

Sorry :O

 

Also in other news I finally kicked my butt into gear and got my first book published (I was sitting on it since nine so...very slow indeed...)

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8 minutes ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Sorry :O

 

Also in other news I finally kicked my butt into gear and got my first book published (I was sitting on it since nine so...very slow indeed...)

What? Seriously? Don't just throw something out like that. Give us a link or something. I want to check it out.

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7 minutes ago, Jotari said:

What? Seriously? Don't just throw something out like that. Give us a link or something. I want to check it out.

It's on Amazon...

https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B07MHLWZSW/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1546581906&sr=1-1&keywords=Rain's+Story

 

So knock yourselves out.

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I considered trying to write something to publish once. It was a mystery series of sorts since mysteries are my favorite and I'm particularly a huge fan of Nancy Drew (a mystery series, of course). But I guess later I decided I actually liked doing art a bit more than writing, so writing just became more of a little side thing.

I had no idea you could get published through Amazon though, interesting. Hope that works out for ya!

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16 minutes ago, Anacybele said:

I considered trying to write something to publish once. It was a mystery series of sorts since mysteries are my favorite and I'm particularly a huge fan of Nancy Drew (a mystery series, of course). But I guess later I decided I actually liked doing art a bit more than writing, so writing just became more of a little side thing.

I had no idea you could get published through Amazon though, interesting. Hope that works out for ya!

Thanks Ana XD I'm only hoping it helps people really since at the heart of it that's what the story was for.

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2 minutes ago, TheSilentChloey said:

Thanks Ana XD I'm only hoping it helps people really since at the heart of it that's what the story was for.

Nice! I clicked your link, btw, out of curiosity. The title seems very generic to me, but maybe you wanted something simple, and that's okay. You might want to put a little synopsis of the story in the description there, to try to get people interested in reading it. I have no idea what it's supposed to be about, so...I don't know if I'd be interested. :P

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On 1/3/2019 at 10:47 PM, TheSilentChloey said:

Sorry :O

 

Also in other news I finally kicked my butt into gear and got my first book published (I was sitting on it since nine so...very slow indeed...)

It's all good, I'm mostly messing with you.

Also awesome, glad to hear that! I'll have to see if I can take a look.

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10 minutes ago, SoulWeaver said:

It's all good, I'm mostly messing with you.

Also awesome, glad to hear that! I'll have to see if I can take a look.

Geeze Soul :P

Yeah I published the labour of love a little while back now.

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Sorry. I can't believe I forgot about the countdown.

Shoblongoo submitted a prompt in December 31 and the rules give 2 weeks to write a prompt, so we're closing the writing phase at January 14. In any case, the the countdown has been added to the Court Records first post

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This kind of snuck up on me too. Threw this together pretty quickly. There's quite a few routes to go down for a prompt like this, comedy, tragedy, seroius. I choose to go the route of thinking you're an absolute genius when you're drunk. Not really sure how I feel about the end result. I just sort of rambled. Oh well, it's something.

Title: All Good Things

Word Count: 1617

Spoiler

 Kaliya sat on the edge of a large cliff overlooking a plateau. Below him were wastelands, empty, barren and full of dust. Floating just above the horizon was a large fire ball, consuming the sky. It looked like the sun, only instead of shining brightly, it darkened the landscape, casting long shadows and dying the world in an eerie red glow.

“Kaliya! There you are.” Joseph slowly made his way up the incline towards the edge of the cliff. “We’ve been looking all over for you. There’s no time to waste. We need to regroup before it’s too late.”

Kaliya was stared at the great flame on the horizon and smiled. “It’s already too late.”

“Don’t say that,” Joseph muttered, unable to find the resolve to even properly scold his friend.

“I held out hope for a long time,” Kaliya said, “but now, this is it. We’re finished. Congratulations, Joseph. You and I are the final generation of humanity, the final generation of multicellular life itself. Four and a half billion years of evolution at an end.”

“We have to try,” Joseph said. “It’s not over, not while I’m still breathing.”

“Supposing, through some impossibly lucky chain of events, we do manage to defeat Angarika, what then? There’re two dozen of us still here, fifteen men and nine women. Do you know what the viable number of humans necessary for a breeding population is?”

“About a thousand?” Joseph ventured.

“Nope.”

“Ten thousand?”

“Wrong again. Using genetic engineering and starting with a diverse base, we can get away with a mere hundred and sixty humans to repopulate the species.”

Joseph took a step forward, he had been anxious about approaching the edge as closely as Kaliya sat. “But that’s even more reason to keep fighting. There’re two dozen of us here, there could be more survivors out there.”

Kaliya laughed and drank from the bottle of Death Keel he’d been keeping by his side. He shuddered and sighed as the burning sensation spread across his body. “There’s no one else out there, Joseph. You know that. Look, as far as you can see. There is nothing. Not just no humans, there are no plants, no fish, no mammals. They all burned up while we were gone.”

Joseph took a deep breath and approached the edge. Gingerly, he looked down at the distant ground below and tried to let the fear pass him. He put an arm on Kaliya’s shoulder and slowly lowered himself into a sitting position. “I don’t care if it’s futile. I have to keep fighting. And I’m not the only one. Everyone else thinks so too.”

“I wonder, do they really think that, or are they too afraid to think otherwise.” Kaliya handed the bottle of Death Keel to Joseph. “Drink, it’ll be the last chance you get, one way or the other.”

Joseph took the bottle and raised it to his lips. The mere vapour from it burned his lips. He bit the bullet and drank. He only swallowed half of it, the rest he coughed out over the side of the cliff.

“Don’t waste it,” Kaliya said, angrily. He took the bottle back and drank without hesitation.

“Where did you get that stuff anyway?”

“The ship. It belonged to Ersatz, rest his soul.”

“I wish he was here now. There are so many people I wish were here now.”

“They’re gone, and they’re not coming back.”

“I wonder…if we’re the lucky ones for surviving this long, or the unlucky ones.”

“We’re the lucky ones,” Kaliya assured him. “We get to bear witness.”

“To death, tragedy and destruction? Is that really preferable?”

“Yes. If it wasn’t,” Kaliya gestured to the open air in front of them, “then the solution would be obvious.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?” Joseph asked, quietly.

“No. I’m going to sit here until I burn up. Immolation, the absolute worst way to go. Shouldn’t take more than forty five minutes. Even if you all left now, you wouldn’t make it to Angarika in time.”

“I don’t understand you. If you’re not giving into despair, then why not fight with us? It’s better than doing nothing?”

“If you don’t understand me, then drink.” Kaliya handed Joseph the bottle again. This time when he drunk he managed to keep all the liquid down, though he still spluttered a bit. “Are you afraid of death, Jospeh?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Isn’t it so illogical to fear death? To fear the inevitable. It’s something every rationale being figures out at some point. You’re going to die and there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s nothing to truly fear, yet we still do. Because we’re hardwired that way. We’re built to want to live with every last scrap of being. Even those that take the plunge and jump off the cliff still try to claw their way back up in the final few seconds. It’s so…”

“So what?”

“Beautiful.” A tear ran down the side of Kaliya’s face. “Maybe that’s why we fear death. Because deep down we know how beautiful we are, and we don’t want to lose something so magnificent. And the ones who kill themselves just can’t see it. They just can’t see themselves.”

The Death Keel was working quickly on Joseph. He could feel it flushing over his brain like a curtain being drawn. Kaliya had drunk more than him, and started earlier too. “You’re drunk.”

“And what of it? I think only when we’re intoxicated do we see things as they really are.” He raised the bottle to the great flaming ball. “Let the liquor tear down those wilful delusions and inhibitions we set up. Do you know it’s why we settled down and started farming in the first place? Food wasn’t hard to come by when hunting and gathering, in fact it was easier than farming. But this, liquid courage, this was something we could only make by settling down in one place. This gave us our farms, our villages, our cities, our space ships. This gave us civilisation.” He lay back on the ground below. Despite the great flame illuminating the world, the stars were clearly visible above.

“I should go,” Joseph said. “The others…” He made a move to get up, but Kaliya clutched at his sleeve.

“Please don’t. Stay here with me.” Kaliya pleaded. His face was wet from tears, his eyes vibrating with a type of sorrow that Joseph couldn’t describe. “It doesn’t make a difference what you do, so just stay here. For me. Please.”

“Gah.” Joseph hesitated. “If it doesn’t make a difference, then why don’t you just come. For me, for all of us. It works both ways, Kaliya. I don’t want to abandon you on this hill.”

Kaliya looked back up at the sky. “Do you think there’s other life out there?”

Joseph wasn’t sure if this change of topic was a ploy on Kaliya’s part or the ramblings of an incoherent mind. “There must be, I suppose.”

“We should have left this star system. Eight hundred years of space travel and never once did we try to send humans into the great beyond. And no matter how good our spectrographs and light transmitters became, no one ever answered back. I think we must be alone. It’s the only thing that makes sense. A trillion, trillion, trillion stars and only one of them have us. I have doubted everything in my life, but I don’t doubt that.”

“Kaliya, I have to go.”

“Help me finish.” Kailya pulled at Joseph to return to a sitting position. He forced the bottle into Joseph’s hands.

Joseph sighed and drank. Kaliya was leaning heavily on him, he was afraid if he moved too much, his friend would fall off the cliff. “You take the last bit.” He returned the bottle to Joseph.

Kaliya got to his feet and finished the bottle in a single gulp. He then flung it as far as he could. They both watched as it gradually fell to the earth below where it shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Joseph also got to his feet. He hesitated to say something, but then changed his mind and began to walk away.

“Bacteria still exists,” Kaliya said after Joseph had walked just a few meters. Both of them had their back to each other, Kaliya looked at the great flame in the sky, Joseph looked at the settlement where the others waited. “Plant, animal, human life, it’s all gone, but the indomitable microbe still exists.” He laughed. “The thing that makes fermintation possible. But it will die to by the time Angarikia finishes purging this place. That’s what you’re fighting for, not for humanity or your own survival, but for the bacteria that fills the air. If by someone miracle you manage to win, life will go on, and maybe in another four billion years it will produce creatures like us again.”

Joseph spun around. “Then come with me. That’s something worth fighting for, worth striving for. Even if it’s impossible.”

Kaliya didn’t turn to face Joseph, he just continued to stare at the horizon. “I simply don’t care enough.” He shook his head. “This is human extinction. The death of humanity itself. It was inevitable from the start, just as surely as the death of a human life is inevitable.” He looked over his shoulder. The great flaming sun behind him cast a long shadow, he should have been shrouded in silhouette, but for some reason his face was clearly visible to Joseph. “But don’t worry.” His eyes were practically shining from the tears, but there was a smile of sorrowful bliss on his face. “It’s illogical to be afraid.”

 

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Title: Ferrous's Night Out

Word Count: 1778

Spoiler

Ferrous lazily smirked at the few drops left in his shot glass. A warm little buzzing filled him. His eyes swung around the building. The bar seemed better lit and better smelling than when he'd walked in. Outside the window, white snow peppered the black of night;  inside, faces which seemed newly friendly surrounded him. It might have taken two shots, but it seemed like today might end up alright after all. To celebrate, Ferrous decided, he'd have another. "Ey you there!"

The barkeep appeared within a second, holding the desired bottle. "Another?"
"Yeah."

The barkeep poured another. "I don't think I've seen you around before."
"Maybya just forgot," Ferrous slurred, "but ya didn't," and he stretched out a hand. "Ferrous."

The hand went untouched, and Ferrous soon pulled it back to help him down his drink. "I don't know what you put in this stuff, but I really like it!"
"That's straight whiskey."
"I like it."
"I can tell," said the server, wiping out a separate glass. "Something got you down, son?"

Ferrous scoffed. "It's none of your business."
"Of course," nodded the barkeep. "Want to take off that jacket, son? You must be awful hot."
"Stop it!"
A few heads turned their way, briefly.

"My apologies," nodded the barkeep. "None of my business. Sorry for asking, s-"
"No, no, no!" Ferrous growled.

Heads lingered a little longer, but even the relative quiet of a Thursday was enough of a social amalgam to draw everyone back. Outbursts were never too terribly rare anyway, so this was fairly minor and easy to forget, all things considered. The barkeep silently filled another patron's glass, and was a bit surprised when Ferrous seemed to want to resume their conversation.

"Ask whatever you want, don't call me 'son', alright?" Ferrous muttered. "You're not my dad."
"I see. Something got you down, then, Fergus?"
"Ferrous."
"Right, my bad."
Ferrous chuckled. "Not a problem. Sorry for yelling. Very un-chivalrous," he said with a grin. "The old man wouldn't want me to forget my manners."
"Got a lot of respect for your father?"
"Thought the world of him. Can I get another shot?"

The barkeep silently complied, and with an equally quiet grace set about filling more cups and starting more tabs.

"You know," Ferrous said, halfway through swallowing his poison, "I like you, Mr. Barkeep. You seem like a nice guy."
"That's very kind. You seem like an alright lad."
"Heh. Thanks." Ferrous leaned over his shot glass. "Look, I'm really pissed off, you hear?"
He was met with a nod.
"I said: You hear?"
"Yes."
"You asked if something got me down, yeah?"
"Only if it's any of my business."

Ferrous swayed his head in circles. "Ya asked nicely, and ya gave me these drinks. You bought yourself some business having good graces in my book."
"...much appreciated."
"So now I'm gonna tell you what. Those bastards-" Ferrous thumped the counter. "Got the nerve to cut my pay. Cut it like my foreskin. I swear, they must think I just sit around all day with a USB up my urethra or something, 'cause it seems like they don't even want me to stick around. They must think I don't do nothin'."

The barkeep was curious to see what the young man was ranting about, and so decided to let him go on in the hopes that he'd eventually reveal it.

"I mean, maybe they're right," Ferrous said mockingly. "All I do is keep their damn home safe. They work there, they sleep there, think they'd appreciate what I do, right? Sounds important, but since nobody ever tries anything anyway, guess we're useless, huh? Expendable! No one appreciate deterrence," he spat. "Oh, but there's a recession," he said in his most mewling voice. "Economy's not doing too hot. Gotta cut costs to stay afloat. Bullshit. Got any more of that whiskey stuff?"

A brief hesitance, another glass, another swig, a refreshed exhale. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Real sorry to hear about that."

Ferrous scoffed. "Ah, listen to me! I shouldn't complain."
"What I hear here is confidential," the barkeep assured. "Complain as much as you like."
"No, no, it's unbecoming. Unchivalrous."
"It can be healthy to vent every now and then," said the barkeep, trying not to sound too invested. "There you go, talking about chivalry again. What's up with you and that?"

"It was my dad's thing," Ferrous waved his hand around in the air. "Honesty and hard work and- being nice to women and shit like that. Thought it was just the coolest thing ever. Real admirable ideal. Not that it ended up doing him too many favors," he trailed off into a low, hollow laughter. "They couldn't just screw over me, they couldn't just screw over the rest of security, they gotta screw over my dad too!"

He placed his finger firmly on the counter before him. "He worked for them for over thirty years. Over three decades of cleaning their house. My dad worked his ass to death for them, an' whadda they do to return the favor?"
No answer was expected from anyone except himself.
"I go to them and say they oughta help cover his funeral expenses. They tell me his compensation policy doesn't cover it. The nerve of those-" Ferrous broke into a coughing fit. "The nerve of those bastards. If someone works for you for over half his life, comes in at your beck and call at every Lord-forsaken hour there is, works overtime all the time, does everything you ask him to- chivalry! Bah. Thought he was just doing his job acting like their little slave. And when he stresses himself into a stroke because he's been busting his ass for you since he was seventeen, you damn well better have more respect for him than you do a slave."

Ferrous slumped back, but his body thankfully realized there was no back to his stool, and threw itself back over the counter.

"Fuck you, man! Not you," Ferrous assured the barkeep. "You're a beautiful person, but I'm pissed as hell that they think they can throw money around like life's a damn strip club, with their fancy parties and fancy mansion with the fancy-ass furniture- but when they aren't raking in the cash for a new beach house, they try and squeeze it out of me. For decades my family works for them, and those bastards, they just kick us around and hole up in their little palace. Well, screw them! I'm not going in to work tomorrow. I'll take a day off if I want too! When I took the job, because I was a retarded eighteen year old who can't learn from the mistakes that have been staring me in the face every single day of my life, they promised me a decent wage, and if they aren't going to pay their end of it, I'm not gonna pay mine!"

The barkeep nodded. Ferrous hiccuped.

"Ugh...I must sound like a real little bitch, eh?"
"You sound like you've earned the right to have a moment."
"I sound like I've earned myself a day off."

***

Ferrous suddenly found himself aware of an excruciating thumping which filled his head. He groggily peeled his eyes open, and shut them at the morning light. He tried not to pay too much attention to the smell, mostly because it made his headache worse, but also because it was unfortunately familiar. He didn't need to open his eyes to tell he was still at the bar.

He groaned, trying to push himself to a sitting position, but the movement intensified the pounding which pulverized his brain, and so he settled on barely holding himself up off the ground. He could feel a hardwood floor under him, a sticky one at that.

"Good morning," came a vaguely familiar voice.
Ferrous mumbled something which couldn't quite be made out.
"Would you like some help getting up?"
He nodded very slowly.

The barkeep walked up, grabbed Ferrous by the arm, and with great care helped him up to his feet.
"Don't you sleep?" asked Ferrous, eyes still shut.
"During the day."
"...what time is it?"
"Eight thirty six. You've been out for around nine hours."
"Lord Almighty...got a pickled carrot?"
"A what?"
"Nothing. It's...supposed to help...with the head."

Ferrous tried opening his eyes again. Then again. After a few more tries, he was finally able to squint away from the window.

"Now, kid," said the barkeep, "I really do feel sorry for you. Enough to not throw you out into the snow. Still, I'd like to go home soon. Why don't you call someone to come pick you up?"

Ferrous waited for longer than previously to answer. The barkeep followed his half-open eyes to a screen mounted over the counter. He had turned it to the news to help pass the time, but the closed captions were probably a bit hard for the young patron to read through his hangover.

"Happened last night,"  the barkeep began. "Someone tried to sneak a bomb into the Pride mansion- you know how some people have been getting lately. They caught him before he reached his target, but, well, I suppose he didn't care too much to be captured."
"That's...that's terrible." Ferrous had opened his eyes very wide by then.
"Certainly. There's no official statement, but there's at least six injured. They're saying on the news that one of the house staff tried to tackle the guy before he could do anything. Didn't work out for him, I guess."
"...real noble of him to try," he absently replied. The pounding hangover was no longer the dominant feeling in his head.

"I...I need to go." Ferrous walked towards the door. The bright sun shining off white snow no longer seemed to bother him.
"Don't you you need someone to come get you? You don't have to leave now."
"No, I'm fine-" Ferrous stopped in the doorway. "I mean...I'm fine."

His heart raced. His feet hurried in a random direction. He couldn't even blink. "I should have been there," he muttered. He trudged through the winter streets, always looking ahead and down. He didn't bother crossing any streets, if he found himself in a place where he needed to, he just turned around. He needed to keep his legs busy, to keep something busy, to do anything to keep his mind off of it all, but it still caught up to him eventually. "I can't go back," he told himself. "Oh, no, no...no, I can't even show my face there again. You idiot, you dumbass- what the hell where you thinking? No, no, I can't go back..."

 

Edited by AnonymousSpeed
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I got home a few minutes ago, so... Round 6's writing phase has ended, and the voting phase has begun. I'm giving it one week, as per the rules.

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Maybe some people were starting school again and became busy. Or were busy getting ready to go back to school like I've been as well. Or just didn't care for the idea of writing a drunken scene. I couldn't do anything with that one myself...

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Well for me is a combination of the new semester starting, needing to finish up parts of other fanfic projects, and life in general. I mean I had a rough idea for this prompt involving a “drunken fist” thing with odin but I just couldn’t find the time to really hammer it out.

Edited by Otts486
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XD I was really keen on the prompt. Had a lot of ideas, but I've just been crazy busy with studying for the GRE and editing my friend's graduate thesis. No time for actual fun on my end. I did some personal writing, but it's mostly been world building and character profiles.... I may be pretty busy for the next prompt too... 

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