Bold The Facts Tag

Writing share tag 

Thanks for the Tag @wyked-ao3 ! I haven't gotten to the stage of editing yet, but here's a little something that I was able to get written a couple of weeks ago.

Blood Mage: council meeting 

No one enjoyed these meetings, but unless the fairies or vampires picked a fight with Luis there was usually no cause for concern. At a subtle gesture towards Marie’s seat, Susian’s face went pale. The witches were fairly peaceful these days, why would they go and pick a fight with Luis of all people?

As Susan decided the best way to word such a question to the already dozing representative, she was interrupted by a loud boom accompanied by an explosion of plaster and metal crashing down from the ceiling above. 

“What is the meaning of this?”

A cry came from the indigent Fairy King now covered in a layer of dust and red crystal fragments, his ever-faithful guard having taken the brunt of the explosion’s force shielding him. 

“Shut up bug. I have no time to prattle with insects.”

Susan and the others froze at the vitriol in Luis’ tone, sure he never got along with the king, but that voice wasn’t one that he used on anyone unless he had a mind to end them. The eyes of everyone drifted to the enraged bloodmage now standing several feet from the table, carefully trying to gauge how to react. Red lines covered his skin, pulsing with an unnatural glow, threatening to split him at the seams if he let himself slip even minutely. Her mouth went dry as Susian realized he had entered a frenzied state, and even the Fairy King made no move to speak now.

“I came to inform the council of my formal intent to eradicate the Witches.”

His words felt like a hot iron being slammed into Susan’s gut. Her predecessors and colleagues had long wondered what to do if such an eventuality came to be, but to hear it now drove her mind to despair. What had they done to offend him to this degree? Why in their right minds would the witches have picked such a foolish fight? Now everyone would be dragged into this insanity, and more than anything that meant she wouldn’t be getting her time off again, no one in the Order would. 

No pressure Tags: @renasdoodles @kuebiko-writing @laisley-writes @leahnardo-da-veggie ,

@creatrackers @somethingclevermahogony +Open tag

Sketch and line art for the judgment room. First sight of the purrberus.

Your writeblr coffee shop order is ready!

Tea: What does your character find comfort in?

Thank you so much for the tea. It's perfect!

I picked one the squad members from my main WIP right now, Bloodmage (working title). His name is Hati, and he finds comfort in his foil lined hat.

For a bit more context...

Hati is a warlock who possesses the inherent talent of belief. If he believes in something, it comes into existence. At the age of 8, his collective was hunted down and massacred by the tech witches who wanted to harvest their power after learning that a Believer had awakened. In the chaos, his mother hid Hati and put a tin foil lined hat on his head, telling him that it protects him from the vision of tech witches, a statement he believes wholeheartedly to this day. Since he was so young when everything happened, Hati doesn't know about his ability, making him much stronger and unpredictable as a result.

Ever since escaping, he has always worn the hat and fiddles with the brim when he is nervous. He has only shared the full significance with Billy, but the rest of the squad knows the gist of what happened.

Protector

Thank you for the prompt, @flashfictionfridayofficial

Janus smoothed out her crumpled letter as he watched the sunset beyond the horizon. To say that he hadn’t longed to see his sister after she abandoned them would be a lie, but after years of contemplation and bargaining, he thought that he had at least gotten past caring so much. Chuckling to himself at the irony, Janus supposed that his role of protector wasn’t so easily forgotten, despite what his therapist had been insisting on for years.

What really struck him about all this, was just how simple the letter really was. No pleasantries or excuses, just his sister, asking to meet her brother in a neutral area, and promising to actually explain things for once. Without a doubt it was one of her ruses, so predictable, that it would make anyone who'd known her roll their eyes in disgust. Even as her brother, he’d be a fool to believe such empty words again, yet here he stood, waiting for her like always.

“Mr. Janus?”

Turning, Janus felt the muscles in his jaw tense. The boy standing before him was her spitting image. If he hadn’t known better, then he might have suspected that she ran a fowl with some spirit that compressed her into this form. It wouldn’t be that strange for her, but the boy’s eyes were distinctly inhuman. 

“You must be Clarance.”

The pre-teen nodded his head slowly, gripping the strap of his duffle bag until his knuckles began to turn white. Mother had mentioned him once or twice, but Janus had stopped himself from inquiring about the boy, convinced that it wasn’t his business. Whatever the result, now it had been made his business, and he wished that he had at least listened to the basics.  

“Well then, I suppose your mother left you with some instructions?”

The boy’s eyes widened in panic and he began rooting through his bag, eventually producing a crumpled piece of paper. Stepping hesitantly forward he shoved it towards Janus, who accepted it with a quiet thanks.

-Please keep him safe-

Letting out a heavy sigh, he crumpled the paper and stuffed it into his pocket with her letter. As always it seemed that her promises were as paper thin as the cheap scrap she wrote them on. Straightening his posture Janus smiled at the nervous child. It was pointless to dwell on the twisting mass disappointment in his chest, he could figure out her situation later. Now he had other things to focus on. 

“Are you hungry?”

Bad News 

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Summary: Unexpected news is not well received on 2 hours of sleep.

Warnings: Implied and threatened violence

“So… I think that Charlie and I might be dating.” Veins on the side of his neck began to pulse visibly as Simon set down the document he was reviewing. He hadn’t noticed the gaggle of idiots wandering into his room, and normally he wouldn’t have caught what they were saying, but even more cups of coffee than he’d care to admit and 4 hours of overtime thanks to their antics, he wasn’t nearly tired enough to miss a comment like that. Seb was the first to notice his sudden engagement, moving from his usual perch on the edge of Simon’s desk 

“Well, I guess the cat really got out of the box this time huh?”  Simon breathed deeply through his nose, as his knuckles started to get even paler than usual. 

“Its bag though isn’t it?” Ruth interjected slamming her fist down hard enough to knock some loose papers out of their stacks, sending them strait to the damp floor. 

“No. Everyone knows that Cats love boxes, so if the cat leaves the box then things have really gotten out of hand. Common Ru, think about it. Why would a cat be in a bag?” Tapping the side of his desk with his unclenched hand, Simon began eyeing his half empty mug of cold coffee while eyeing the side of Seb’s head.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s bag, Right Si?” Ruth turned to him with a hopeful glint in her eyes to let him know that she wasn’t ready to just drop the stupidity this time. As the sound of Simon’s teeth grinding filled the silence, Seb finally seemed to grasp a semblance of the situation, positioning himself behind the main problem in this mess. 

“I’m not ashamed of myself, She’s really changed this time and Psych already cleared her again for active combat so this is really just a win win for all of us in the end.” Jon began grinning like an idiot as he shrugged. “ You should really be thank…” Before the cup had time to leave his hands, Ruth had already jumped over the table scattering the rest of his documents. 

“He didn’t mean anything by it… You know he got hit in the head last time he was on the field!” Clarity crashed through his exhaustion for the briefest moment, and Simon considered if he truly wanted to strangle the idiot in front of him. Gingerly grabbing Ruth by the scruff of her collar, he quickly moved her to the side and drew himself up to his full height. Staring down at the crazy fool he decided that he didn’t exactly have any good reason not to. 

Finnaly...

Normally, I wouldn't post something about my gaming, but I literally got over 3k words written because I forced myself to write something every time I died to this child...

It was a surprisingly effective method for circumventing my procrastination, but I think it is one I should use sparingly for my own sanity....

Thanks you for the tag, @flashfictionfridayofficial

INTOLERABLE INACTION

How far can one tollerate injustice for the sake of advancement?

Bitter heat forced its way down Pearl’s throat, burning his lungs. Every muscle in his body ached to turn and do something, but his hooves remained planted firmly on the scorched stone. His tail flicked back and forth as bits of his fur began to singe, marring his pristine coat with numerous imperfections. Even that price wasn’t high enough to atone for his inaction. 

As he listened, wails of torment rang out over the sound of the crackling flames. They were merely mortals, their lives meaningless in the grand scheme of the world he lived in. Their suffering was a mercy compared to the life of mediocrity they would have faced. Still Pearl’s grip tightened around his staff. He could still recall the boundless fields, filled with lush flowers and children laughing as they ran down the uneven streets without a care in the world. That hadn’t been nothing. The cry of a baby echoed above his resolve, his ears flattening against his neck. The council had made it clear that they wouldn’t tolerate further insubordination from him, but Pearl hadn’t been all that interested in immortality anyway.

Dropping his branded spear, Pearl turned from his post and charged towards the burning village. Fire birds circled above, destroying every ounce of life that their burning eyes landed on. He needed to be faster, to make up for every moment of pain his inaction had caused. Rushing to the blackened river, Pearl planted his hooves deep in the soft stones.

Power coursed through his veins, bending the water to his will. They attacked without mercy, and he would swallow them whole. Great snakes of glistening water rose around him, swimming through the air as though they were traveling through the ocean’s depths. They hissed in anticipation, hungering for battle, awaiting his command. Swiping a claw across the night sky, Pearl ordered his constructs to feast on the burning fowl. 

Without hesitation, the snakes rushed to the village, biting down on their prey and extinguishing the fire in their souls. The swift formation led to unstable constructs, making Pearl’s skin burn as each of the snakes shattered. As their forms unraveled, torrents of water crashed against the burning buildings, enveloping the land in billowing clouds of steam. Now, they could run or rebuild. Either way, he wouldn’t let the council have their way here.

“What have you done!”

Pearl turned to face his former commander, one of the water serpents coiling around him protectively. 

“I have tried, brother, but I can not force my knee to bend in the face of tyranny, no matter how tempting the rewards.”

@kuebiko-writing Thanks for the tag! I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but here we go.

My favorite books to read are about messed up people trying to be better for either themselves or for someone important to them, while everyone expects the worst of them, and the world just decides that it has no intention of giving them a break.

My favorite books as a writer (that I attempt to write)....

Honestly, it's hard to boil what I like to write down to a favorite, but I do enjoy writing stories about people who have been dragged into bad situations and try to keep their lives and sanity intact with varying levels of success. Not everything works out for them, but sometimes I give them nice things.

I have a question for everyone who would like to answer:

What are your favorite books as a reader and what are your favorite books as a writer?

Uninvited Pest

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Description: A new father struggles with insomnia and is visited by an unwanted acquaintance. 

Warnings: Reference to violence

 “Hey Obi, you’re looking oddly cognitive today. Did the brat finally exhaust itself?”

Oberon reflexively raised a hand to protect Poppy from Solomon. 

“Quiet jester.” He hissed out the words in a hushed tone while the mischievous creature rocked his head back and forth quietly, having finally replaced those blasted bells he was so fond of. 

“Oh you don’t mean that Obi, I know you missed me.” Oberon tried to put some distance between them, but Solomon quickly closed the gap and pressed the back of his hand against Oberon’s burning throat. 

“Tsk… Tsk… I knew the misses was out of commission but how long have you been caring for her little hell spawn?” Uninterested in discussing his wife at the moment, Oberon bit back.

“Didn’t you get executed yesterday?” Solomon straitened suddenly and pulled back as though appearing to be offended. 

“And I thought you couldn’t make it to the event.” His smiling jester mask shifted to a frown and a blob of black ink ran from the corner of his eye. Oberon shook his head in disgust gently lifting Poppy from her sling and setting her down in a small crib with star drops dancing overhead. It took him a moment of effort, but before he’d even pulled away, Oberon had resigned himself to the trickster’s company, at least for the evening. 

“Next time they should dig a bit deeper.”

“They don’t have the patience for it, but by all means I commission you to persuade them.” Oberon rolled his eyes and grabbed one of Solomon’s tassels to drag him from the room. 

The Jester put up a mock struggle, pulling fruitlessly against Oberon’s light hold until they had made it to the wine cellar. 

“So what do you want Solomon? I doubt you came all this way for my company.” The frown disappeared from his face, replaced once more with his devious smile. 

“Nothing so grand as last time Obi, just the world?” Oberon almost dropped the bottle he’d pulled free of the dust covered shelf. Instead he flipped it in his hand and almost instinctively finished the executioners work. 

UNSEEN

@flashfictionfridayofficial , I'm glad you enjoy the drawings! Thank you so much for the prompts every week!

This one is a bit over 400, so on the shorter side for me, but I was pretty busy today and am writing this as half of my brain falls asleep so sorry if some things seem a bit weird.

Warning:Mentions of injuries and coercion

Neither of them spoke as Rose continued to clean the glass in his hand like nothing was wrong. How many times had his cloth polished this surface? Did it matter?

The silent man in front of him kept his eyes fixed on the area just above Rose’s left shoulder which had now become nearly numb with a strange pulsing pain that threatened to steal control of his arm at any moment. A chill swept through the silent inn dinning room as the coins that had been offered remained on the table untouched by either party since the stalemate had begun.

If it hadn’t been for the sound of Rain beating down against the rafters in heavy torrents you could have heard a pin drop. Whatever monstrosity had managed to blow in with the wind. He couldn’t see the creature, he should have been able to, given how loudly it was breathing right next to his ear. He’d taken several side glances though and never once had he been able to catch even a shadow of the nightmare tormenting him.

“I didn’t mean anything by it…”

The man before him finally lowered his head in frustration, the scar around his throat being obstructed for the first time since he’d entered the inn tonight. A pang of some unknown regret passed through Rose as he tried to say something encouraging but quickly stopped himself as a stab of icy pain shot through his shoulder making him flinch.

{You can’t keep things from me puppet}

The voice reverberated through the air, freezing his blood. The thing had spoken in a twisted voice that seemed to be clawing through unwilling lips, dripping with desire. He’d been lusted after by many strange and terrible people, but never had he felt more disgusted as by this voice. It made no attempt to hide its purpose, but even from the brief words Rose could tell that for once he wasn’t the object of interest.

He looked at the familiar stranger with pity as he watched him struggle with something before finally regaining a hold on himself. In no less than a moment, the doomed man before him suddenly straitened with something resembling resolve before resolutely turning and leaving through the door without another word or mention of his purchased drink. As the man walked away, Rose felt the dark presence leave him, and he collapsed to the ground, panting.