The Write Stuff (The Writing Thread)

[Dookie]

So this is something I made for school. Please give your opinions on it!

The Flat Tire

(Enter Eve, Ed, Tom, Alex, and Penny packing their car)

Tom: So when does this concert start?
Ed: 7:30! We've got an hour and a half, and the arena's 50 minutes away.

(Alex starts the car)

Alex: If we're all packed, then let's go!

(Everybody gets in, and the “car” leaves the driveway)

Eve: Wait! I forgot my popcorn.
Tom: Ugh…fine.

(The “Car” stops, and Eve exists stage left).

Penny: So should we get some gas?
Alex: Nope! We're full-

(Ed motions to his phone)

Ed: 50 minutes.
Alex: Ok, we'll get some along the way.

(Enter Eve stage left, Eve enters the car)

Penny: Everybody's here! Let's go!

(Scene 1 over)

(Scene 2 start with “Car” speeding through a grassland)

Tom: ALEX!
Alex: Yeah?
Tom: WHEN THEY CALLED THE THING AN OFF-ROADER, THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU COULD DRIVE IT THROUGH A FIELD!
Alex: Ok.

(He switches to the road on a dirty, bumpy, concrete street)

Alex: Better?
Penny: No.
Ed: Not really.
Eve: Could you slow down?

(Car Stops)

Eve: Wow, thanks!
Ed: Hey, look there's a gas station the road! Can we stop there?
Alex: But……I didn't….

(Penny and Alex gets out of the car)

Penny: Oh, my legs…
Alex: Guys.

(Ed and Tom get out)

Ed; But shouldn't we pull up to the gas station first?
Alex: GUYS.

(Eve gets out)

Eve: Can I use the-
Alex: GUYS!

(Silence)

Alex: There's a flat tire.
Everyone else: Oh…..
Tom: No.
Penny: So what are we gonna do?
Alex: I'll call for the nearest repairman.
Eve: Lets just go inside the gas station.
Penny: Ok.

(Scene 2 over)

(Scene 3 starts with everybody going inside of the gas station, except for Alex)

Ed: Hello?
Penny: The gas station's empty, Ed.
Tom: So what are we gonna do?

(Eve exit stage right)

Ed: So…she's in the bathroom…should we pay, or…
Tom: I don't know. I don't really trust a dirty gas station.
Ed: That's understandable.
Penny: Yeah…let's leave.

(Eve screams, everybody rushes to the bathroom)

Ed: Oh my gosh, what happened?
Eve: So I was washing my hands when…well, look!

(Eve points to a newly discovered room)

Eve: And now there's a room full of money, computers, and a guy who's asleep!
Ed:…

(Ed takes out his phone)

Phone: 911, what's your emergency?

(Scene 3 over)

(Scene 4 starts, outside the gas station, all characters here)

Police Officer: So we think we know what happened.
Alex: Well I don't! I was outside the whole time!
Penny: Well, there was this stack of money in this gas station, and it was hidden behind the faucet of the lady's room.
Ed: I still don't understand. Why would that be?
Police Officer: Well, the gas station was just a cover-up for a robbery planning secret base for a bunch of criminals. The reason they kept it dirty was to not attract visitors. Because you kids had to stop here, you stopped the criminals from doing any major damage, and potentially saved a life.

(Silence)

Tom: So are you gonna fix our car?

(Scene 4 end)

[Dookie]

I wrote a song.

Balancing Act

I am nothing
I'm the worst at everything
Only simple tasks I can beat
I can't do nothing right
And all that I am worth is to dispose and die
I've no goddamn personality
The facts I tell are all not but lies

To get some friends
I must be just
like them

I must not be a douchebag
So my self esteem is low
I'm on a circus ball and I'm
Failing at a balancing act

I'm the best at everything I do
I have the voice of an angel
I'm so damn high up on my high horse
I can only hear remorse
The screaming of my detractors
Are just haters who don't understand
The world is harsh but not in my eyes
I only see what benefits me

Who needs to
See the truth through their eyes
When something inside just says

I must not hate myself
So my self esteem is high
I'm on a circus ball and I'm
Succeeding a balancing act

Ain't life hard
Cause you're trying too hard
Ain't life hard
Cause you're trying too much
Cause you expectations are too high
And I shouldn't be where I am today
I don't deserve this anyway

I must not be a douchebag
So my self esteem is low
I'm on a circus ball and I'm
Failing at a balancing act
I must not hate myself
So my self esteem is high
I'm on a circus ball and I'm
Succeeding a balancing act
I must look at the criticism
But not too hard
Look at the praise as well
And finally decide that i'm
Where i'm meant to be
I can't lean in too directions
But can I even sustain myself
Before I

Fall

[Tre]

an untitled Destiny story (working title: "shane, sparky + chaos reachin'")

I dunno if this 100% corresponds to canon but it should mostly fit the broad strokes of what the 'verse has goin' on

in terms of in-game chronology it's uhhhhh set after Taken King but before Rise of Iron and all of D2

also! an AI named Dreamily helped me write this :)

---

Shane stared at his hands. There was always a tiny bit of a twitch inside when he wasn't using them, a faint humming sound in his fingertips. Latent energy, charging, building, buzzing.

He was seated atop the windshield of his ship, a pointy and squarish vessel hovering in the hangar of the Tower. His Ghost, a palm-sized metal companion with a green shell that matched the shade of Shane's steel-plated face and a bright blue ocular sensor, rotated in the air near him, squinting along.

"You're moody today," Sparky said.

"It's a weird one," Shane went.  He sighed and leaned against the window glass of the cockpit of his ship, resting his forehead on it with his arms crossed across the frame.

His fingers twitched again, this time with a metallic click. The noise sounded loud in the silence of the hangar, startling the both of them out of their trance.

Shane sat up quickly and furrowed his brow. "They've never done that before."

"Shifting of the extremities' joint connections, maybe? It's a natural thing for Exos," said Sparky.

"Come on, dude, I would hope that I'd be able to recognize if it was robo-arthritis," Shane replied. "I'm old, but I'm not THAT old. At least, with this whole deal," gesturing to his Ghost as he said it.

The Ghost floated over, frowning down at his partner. "If you have trouble keeping your joints working properly, don't push yourself too hard."

"Thanks, buddy," Shane said sarcastically.

Sparky shrugged. "Hey! We need you to get better at flying and fighting with those things."

A groan. "Remind me of my inferiority complex, why don't ya?"

"Better to be honest than to blow smoke up your ass."

Shane rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, fair point." As he said it, a blue indicator light glowed from the dashboard of the cockpit. "We got a hot one. Vex incursion on Mars. A transmat into the ship, if you'd be so kind?"

"Say the magic word," Sparky said.

"Qwertyuiop."

"Eh, close enough," the Ghost went, porting himself and his Guardian into the helm of the ship.

Shane reached forward, tapping something on the display. "Alright, you ready, baby?" Sparky hummed, turning a dial here and there.

A beat passed, and then the vessel was on its way, zooming out of the Tower with a start, breaking the atmosphere within a minute as it left behind the Earth. The simple glow of the blue planet gave way to prismatic strands of every color as Shane's ship went into FTL mode.

The engines whirred loudly through the cockpit at first before settling into a calmer drone. Shane idly read through the holoscreen briefing he'd gotten from the Vanguard. A simple job -- hive mind robots in Freehold mucking about, clean 'em up and any space rhinos along the way, yada yada, Sparky probably had all the information they needed already.

"Peanut, set course for Meridian Bay and stop us immediately over that old monorail station in the buried city," Shane said with something of a half-conscious knowledge. The ship's AI responded to his request with an affirmative white glow along the windshield.

"Aren't there usually just Cabal out there, not Vex?" Sparky goes. "Something feels off about this one, Shane. We might need to be careful."

"Ah, we'll be fine. What's the worst they could bring out? A Minotaur? We've downed so many of those I've lost count."

"I've also picked you up after you've gotten slapped out of existence by those things," Sparky said. "And I know that number."

Shane made an indignant sound but knew there was no point in arguing with his Ghost, so instead, he looked around the cabin for something to do -- and saw a stack of cards.

"Ooh, what are those?" Sparky asked. "Can I play them?"

Shane shook his head. "No, I don't mess with these too much. They were on me when you rez'd me, the first time."

"Oh." The Ghost's voice went low, remorseful.

"We're not supposed to try to figure out, but I swear, these were a gift," he said, flipping through the stack and gazing at the names -- The Magician, The Fool, Death. "I don't know if I'd really call myself much of a mystic, unless I was Really Different back then, but they feel like they originally were from someone important who had more of a way of connecting with those things. A bit of secondhand divination, I guess."

"You might not have seen the last of them," Sparky said.

"Here's hoping."

Shane tucked the deck into his coat pocket, smiling faintly. He tapped the center console to change direction. "This is our stop, I think." He tapped the navigation panel, setting their destination, and then turned his gaze back to the window beside him. The sun was rising over a desert landscape; the break of day out here was surprisingly similar to back home, just more blue. Faint bits of light from the Vex and their radiolarian cores were visible against the sand and what little was left of the buildings in the heart of a city turned to dust.

"Orbital drop," Shane said. Sparky knew there was no changing his Guardian's mind, so he obliged, with the Warlock teleporting from the confines of the ship into the sky above Freehold, his green longcoat billowing as he took the dive.

Shane watched the city below, taking a moment to orientate himself before landed. A tall, spirelike structure sat directly in front of the Warlock, gleaming white with lines folding in and over each other like intricately linked scaffolding.

“The briefing didn't say anything about a Conflux, did it?” Shane asked.

“It did,” Sparky said. Ghosts couldn't really roll their eyes, but the tone he adopted did it for him.

“Dang,” Shane went. “You got this hack covered?”

“Lemme see what I can find…” The Warlock opened his left palm and Sparky emerged from his virtual backpack, scanning the Conflux with an electronic hum — and attracting the attention of the Goblins patrolling the area. But before any of the brass Vex foot soldiers could do much as fire a single shot from their slap rifles at Sparky, Shane had taken down the whole group with his signature baby blue bullpup, the Zhalo Supercell.

“You thought I was just gonna make this an easy kill for ya?” he yelled, seemingly to the Conflux itself since the Goblins were little more than metal and spilled milk at that point. “Come on!”

A set of gray clouds with white pixel formations emerged near the duo, and Shane's helmet glowed with the reflections of a much larger group of Vex.

“That's more like it,” the Warlock said.

Who would win in a fight, twelve interlinked physical manifestations of a massive, system-spanning collective mind, or one zappy boy?

Hunters liked to rely on tricky solutions in fights, manifesting their Light powers to play with their prey. Titans were the ones that put raw power into action, using their connection to the Traveler as protectors, bulwarks, human-sized tanks.

But a Warlock's means of bringing Light onto the battlefield was the most poetic of the three. Utility and acuity at once, a flow and finesse all their own -- and in Shane's case, mastery of the art of the storm. He leapfrogged through the floating Harpy drones and struck the ground with streaks of electricity, blue and white sparks flowing from his hands and the rifle in them with equal measure and breakneck speed. 

Sparks flew in all directions as the lightning hit the ground, sending up brilliant bursts of static. It was like watching fireworks, but it wasn't the sky they exploded off of. Instead, each Vex bot's white liquid radiolarian core crackled and went dark with strands of Arc energy flowing across the ground, the explosions brightening the arid Mars landscape. Shane kept in continuous motion as the enemy forces fell, his cascades through the air around the Conflux graceful but quick.

With one final takedown -- a Minotaur with an annoying Void shield that managed to graze his side, going down with a well-placed pulse grenade throw -- Shane landed lightly, dust swirling around his feet as he turned back to Sparky.

"How's the keysmashing?" Shane went.

The Ghost warbled, as if to groan. "Still looking for weaknesses," he replied. "But I think I've found somethin'. There's some kind of shield surrounding this place.”

"Shield?" Shane echoed. "Like, an invisible, impenetrable force field?” He fired a set of test shots from the Zhalo into the air, and rather than careening out into the distance, the blasts bounced against a barrier above them. At the same time, another gray cloud emerged, much larger and higher in the sky than the ones that had come before it.

“Shit,” Shane muttered. The Vex robot that emerged from the pixels had a chassis several shades darker than that of its fallen compatriots, closer to a black with a golden finish. It was a Minotaur that stood about as high as the Conflux, eclipsing Shane by about ten feet and gazing at him and Sparky with a single glowing red eye, aiming its railgun-esque weapon with malicious intent.

"They weren't supposed to send a Gate Lord!" Sparky went, and Shane made an effort to leap out of the way but he couldn't make it out in time. The Torch Hammer set the ground around the Conflux ablaze, and sent Shane flying backward into a neon Clovis Bray sign, which briefly lit to life before the Guardian fell to the ground, coughing a spot of synthetic blood into his helmet.

Shane put his arms and legs into a kneeling position in an attempt to stand. His suit started to glow with a sickly aura -- a warning indicator -- and the pain started. Shane clenched his teeth, fighting through the agony, and looked up toward the Conflux and his Ghost. "Sparky, get outta--"

A second shot from the Gate Lord. The Conflux rippled with a blast of Solar energy, and Sparky fell to the ground, his shell streaked with a hot line burning a bright orange.

The Warlock's jaw opened under his helmet, as if to yell, but he didn't make a sound. The idea of losing one's Ghost was one of a Guardian's most primal fears -- their connection to the Traveler, the source of their power, their second life (or forty-second) given a clear expiration point.

Shane was still out of sorts and he knew it, but he mustered enough strength to lift himself into a hobbling walk, then a run, and a sprint. By the time he'd closed the gap to the Conflux, he had taken to the air again, readying himself with thunderous calm and tranquil fury.

An inhale.

Warlocks: the bookish, unfeeling type of Guardian, one would think on the surface. Except that wasn't quite the case at all -- far from it, when the Stormcallers in particular were concerned. For them, channeling Arc energy meant being in tune with one's emotions and the happenings around them to a hypersensitive point.

Shane didn't have much. He didn't know anyone at the Tower, and most of his excursions for the Vanguard were solo affairs rather than Fireteam joints. But Sparky was always there for him, ready to pick him up when he needed, buzzing about the ship and giving Peanut false objectives to chase. The cynical might have called him a mere drone of the big magic ball that floated over the Last City, a simple tool. But he was more than that.

The Gate Lord seemed to realize the danger it was in and fired its railgun once more, but its aim was poor, and as it stumbled, Shane pointed an outstretched hand at it and closed his fingers inward, like a bird of prey clutching its quarry.

An exhale.

The area around seemed to darken and a loud crunch shook the Conflux as a beam of blue energy emerged from Shane into the Gate Lord's center of mass, the point of impact leaking with a stream of radiolaria.

Once his energy was tapped out, Shane fell backward toward the floor, managing to break the momentum from the drop with one outward push of his legs before landing next to his Ghost.

Sparky's light diode brightened as the Guardian joined him. "Wow," he said.

"Never done that before," they both said together. The Ghost took back to the air above, mostly intact but surrounded by Arc particles and streaks of electricity emitted from his wound.

"We'll have to get that fixed when we get back to the Tower," Shane went, his helmet retracting to show a metallic face filled with concern.

"You know," Sparky went, rotating the bits of his shell in a cloud around his core, "I think I actually kinda like it like this. Fits our aesthetic."

A smile from the Warlock. "Fair enough."

They both looked up to watch the Gate Lord fall to the ground, its core exploding into hundreds of bright bursts as pieces of metal and circuitry flew everywhere and melted on contact with the sandy terrain, releasing an intense, putrid stench.

The Ghost turned to his Guardian and blinked. "Let's go home."

[MadameButterflyKnife]

(a little drabble based on my OCs and personal universe and whatever)

---

neon acolytes.

An android sat on the balcony, right in the middle of the bright lights and electric souls of the city. Above them, bursting through the clouds themselves, were the silver towers of the rich and beloved. Well, not exactly “beloved”, as much as they wanted to believe it. More like feared. Maybe even a little reviled, if you find the right corners on the street. No one would say it out loud though. If you asked your random person on the street, they'd look to the Encore Incorporation's glowing signs, and sing their praises. Wish that they were rubbing shoulders, getting even the possibility of looking at the eyes of looking at the suits that ran Helium City.

And the worst part, Voi thought as she looked straight ahead, is that none of them were even lying. Underneath the fear that one felt when you saw the glowing logos, there was hatred, yes. But there was that envy. That belief that you could be among them, even just for a day. The thought that it would be beautiful. Beyond all belief.

But she knew from experience, standing by the idle, perpetually young and rich. The horrid truth was this: one, none of the soiled masses toiling away would ever get a glimpse at that life. And two, even if they did, it was an unsatisfying life. The people in power were basically greedy brains hooked up to iron hands, ready to keep a perpetual grip. And those immediately underneath, the neon drenched heirs and prodigies, didn't have anything in their heads. They were just here to keep the place running, spending their days mindlessly ordering the gears to crank until they needed to be replaced, and spending their nights on quick deals, quick thrills, things that would be thrown out by the time the streetlights go off.


“Voi. Voi. Voiiiiiiiiiii. You alright?”

Ivi's voice breaks through her thoughts. “What the fuck?! Oh. Yeah, I'm alright! The hell would you think otherwise?”

“…You seemed to be bluescreening? Just worried you needed me to bring you back inside. I know you're a pretty old model-”

The mention of “old model” strikes something in Voi, as she gives a death glare. “I-what the fuck -”

“Crap-sorry! I forgot…you alright, though? It's my duty to make sure you're alright.”

“Fucking swear-I'm alright. Don't get all fucking worked up, alright? Don't need to drag me to some shitty droid shop, alright?”

“I wasn't going to. We…we have our own mechanics here, you know.”

Voi's defensive stance slowly goes down. There was no way in hell she was going to a certified repairs place. Andi wasn't here for one. There wouldn't be the clout needed for them to actually get Voi repaired, instead of thrown in some shredder and sold for parts. If they brought her in tonight, she wouldn't be the personal companion droid of one of the highest ranking heirs in the Strato District. She'd just be some random, spontaneously bought bot bought by some lonely kid until either she broke or they got sick of her.

“…Voi. You…you want to be alone?”

“Suck a dick! I mean.” Voi took a second to think about what to say. She could yell “suck a dick” again. That worked a lot. Andi at least found it funny enough to keep her around for a little longer. But well. Ivi was nice, and probably didn't find someone yelling to suck a dick as funny as others did. “Actually. Actually, no. You can stay here for a bit. Just don't be a fuckin bother.”

Ivi sits right next to Voi. “The city's nice from here, right? You can see everything. Every single moving part. The people pumping through it like it's some living damn organism. It's the blood. The wires are nerves, the buildings are the bones-”

“For fucks sake, can you describe this in a way that doesn't make me feel viscerally fucking uncomfortable. You're making me feel like someone's swallowing me whole and its horrible.”

“Oh. Um. I mean, in a way, it kinda is like something swallowing you whole?”

“What the fuck.”

“Like. The incorporation. Swallowing you whole like some corporate snake. Owning your damn soul.”

“…okay, now it sounding absolutely horrifying makes more sense. No escape from this fucking city, huh.”

“…Actually.”

“The hell does ”actually“ mean.”

Ivi shuffles on the side of the railing. “..There's a little belief that goes around in the streets of the city. Near the core. Rumors of neon angels. Saying that some people are lucky to escape being trapped in the wires and tubes of the city infrastructure. And they fuse. Combine into beings of electricity and neon and garbage in hive minds, ready to try and break you out. To bring liberation.”

The balcony's quiet for a second, the only sound being the ambient noise of the city around, as Voi ponders what she said. Finally, she has a response.

“That…that is.”

“Kinda comforting, right.”

“…I was gonna say fucking horrifying as hell! Like! If you don't escape the grip of the city, you just become recycled anyway! Basically interchangeable! No damn identity of your own, how is that not absolutely heart stopping?!”

Ivi stares for a bit, and nods. “I get it.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit.”

“I mean, I understand it? Why're you so surprised?”

“I was kinda expecting you to call me a fucking idiot.”

“If I were to call you an idiot, it would be for something much different. Like random arson.”

“I have targets! It's just that my targets are whoever happen to be in the way.”

“Look, I get it. Just…I dunno. Gives me comfort that the struggle to survive won't end with me. That there's more people, more souls ready to support me. That I won't be the end all.”

For once, Voi pauses a long, long while before she speaks. “…well, good for you, I guess.”

And the two look out to the city around. Surrounded by a metal shell, looking for comfort or freedom. Whichever would come first.

[Caret]

(a short Murderverse-related story that I don't know where else to put, so here you go:)

Reconciliation

A teenager sprints into a cube-shaped room and then throws his back onto the nondescript wall, allowing him to catch up on some breath. The teenager was running from something: not an enemy, but an obligation. He had recently found out that his best friend had found out about the atrocities he committed in his frantic search for her, and he is not ready to face the emotional burden that he unintentionally placed on his friend. Not at this moment, at the very least.

Then, an indiscernible silhouette quickly races by him. Out of pure instinct, the teenager produces a flail out of thin air and moves into a defensive stance. The silhouette appears again, but this time, the teenager seems to recognize who it is. The silhouette seems to recognize the teenager in return, as they stop moving and allow themselves to be clearly seen. It's a Sylveon. A sudden feeling of guilt strikes the teenager's stomach.

“Ummmmm, hey there, Bow! I… didn't see you coming for a second there! How's life going for you?” The teenager replies in a worried tone.

“Hello, Rywa. I watched your little talk last night, so… do you care to explain your actions to me?” The Sylveon, now identified as “Bow”, moves uneasily towards Rywa.

“Ummm… ummm… there's no getting out of this, isn't there?”

Bow simply looks on at Rywa with an unamused frown slowly forming over her face.

“Bow… look, I'm sorry for everything I did to see you again. In hindsight, my actions weren't well-thought out at all and I'm trying to make up for what I did, so can you please just forgive me and get over this?”

Bow tilts her head at Rywa. “Forgive you? You really expect me to forgive you after you destroyed entire universes filled with a countless number of lives that will never be lived to their fullest extents now? You did all of that just so you could see me again? Even if you regret what you did… that's great, but do you really expect to score pity points with me now? Did you even factor in how I would react to your actions when you decided to go onto your little timeline-destroying rescue mission?"

“Well, at the time, I thought that my actions were just, and besides, I thought you would be overjoyed to see me and nothing else…”

“See? This is the exact problem that I've noticed with you. You seem to be very quick to dismiss my own opinions just because you're my Trainer, and that apparently means that I'm nothing more than your cool talking pet! Just because I'm a Pokémon doesn't mean that I should blindly believe in what you say! For years, I thought that you were like a big brother to me, and I still do to this very day, albeit to a drastically lesser extent than a couple of months back, but… I looked up to you, and to see my role model commit such a heinous crime… it feels like I've been betrayed.”

“Hey, I also know what it feels like to be betrayed by someone you trusted, and trust me, I've been there too. But… you're my best friend, and in my heart, you always will be, and I expect the same of you…”

“...no. I am no longer a simple pet. I am now an independent person with my own feelings, and you shouldn't expect me to be your one and only friend. If there's one thing that my experiences without you taught me, it's that I should not be limited to just having one friend. I befriended countless others… and without them, I probably wouldn't be where I am today.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the power of friendship rocks… I already know that cliche. It's good to have more than one friend, but I'm still your Trainer, and you should care about me above all else, right? I still love you in a platonic sense...”

“Then why did I overhear you saying that you assumed that you hate me now? If you really loved me in a platonic sense, then why did you make that remark towards me?”

Awkward silence fills the room.

“Well, look, I was in a high emotional state at the time and I... may have said some asinine things that I didn't mean to say, but I can assure you that what I said isn't really how I feel about you…”

“Enough making up excuses for yourself. You made me feel really bad about myself when you said that, and did you really mean that? What's the point of you going great lengths to find me if you're just going to blatantly dismiss my concerns like that? Is that what you really want? What about the other timelines that you destroyed? What would the people in those timelines feel if they were still alive today? Was it really worth it to crush the hopes and dreams of them just to satisfy your hopes and dreams?”

A sudden realization hits Rywa in the face quite literally, as he slaps his face very hard upon realizing said realization. Bow's right. He shouldn't try to excuse his behavior just because he did it with well intentions. To paraphrase a certain dragon, he should focus more on the means than the ends.

“You're… right. Just because I had good intentions doesn't mean the means are justified… ugh, goddamnit! I was indeed making up excuses for myself! Why can I be so stupid sometimes…”

“Hey, at least you acknowledged what you were doing wrong. No matter how much you apologize, sometimes, your actions will have an everlasting impact.”

“Right, right… Now that we spent a lot of time quibbling about it, can you forgive my actions now?”

“The short answer is… no. I will absolutely not forgive you for your absolutely selfish behavior.”

“...I understand now.” Rywa solemnly nods.

“But...you will always remain as one my friends, even if our friendship is more tense than it used to be.”

Bow wraps a feeler around one of Rywa's arms as a small gesture of friendship, which Rywa silently accepts.

“Well, I guess that means that our relationship is going to be a different one from here on out, then. By the way, I might have accidentally released you last night, so sorry about that...”

“I don't really care. Besides, I am no longer Bow, a shy Eevee who helps out just a a single person. Instead... I am now Bow, a brave Sylveon who helps out everyone.”

Rywa solemnly nods in response. The two continue to stand close to each other. They'll eventually end up heading their separate ways, but for now, they'll enjoy this moment of friendship, even if their friendship is now a bit more tense.

[josh6243]

Kula started off the match by rushing at YAGAMI with a simple punch, its range extended by an icicle on her fist. She followed up this attack with the deadly One-Inch Punch, a simple ballerina twirl made more painful with a combination of her ice powers and her ice skates, a quick slide kick meant to juggle YAGAMI for a bit, and an icy rising uppercut.

Even as he was juggled sky-high, YAGAMI just laughed at Kula, “Pathetic! You would have lost to my original self!”

YAGAMI broke free from Kula's combo and pulled off the Kuzukaze technique, swinging the ice manipulator round and round until YAGAMI tossed her right at a frozen ship. WHAM!

With a sadistic grin, YAGAMI pulled off one of the original Iori's most notorious combos, the deadly “127 Aoi Hana” technique. First, he pulled off a standing uppercut and followed it up with a sliding uppercut. Normally, the real Iori would have ended the combo with an axe handle blow, but YAGAMI repeated the standing uppercut and the sliding uppercut ad-nauseum. Both K’ and Antonov were concerned at how Kula was handling this fake Iori. She will reverse this at some point, right?

Once bored of the infinite combo, YAGAMI decided to deliver a rapid-fire barrage of claw attacks and punches, ending with him about to deliver a burst of Orochi's purple flames right at Kula. Even in the hands of an impostor, Iori's “Kin 1211 Shiki: Ya Otome” technique is deadly even though it was derived from Goenitz's “Shin Ya Otome” technique.

Confident in his victory, YAGAMI asked, “Any last words, trash?”

With a childish grin, Kula just yelled, “Just two, faker. Freeze Execution!”

Out of nowhere, two elegantly dressed women teleported in and started to perforate YAGAMI with their rapiers. Even in this day and age, Foxy and Diana still protected Kula with their lives. With YAGAMI too focused on the two rapier wielders, Kula had all of the time she needed to freeze the fake Iori in place with a powerful blizzard, entombing the phony in a cryogenic prison. With a bow, Foxy and Diana teleported away from the fight.

That was too easy, wasn't it? Wrong! Ka-crack! All of a sudden, the area's colors changed to a bloody crimson and YAGAMI's icy prison shattered into a million pieces! Luckily, the others were strong enough to deal with the shrapnel.

Now under the Riot of the Blood state, YAGAMI howled, “Playtime is over! You're dealing with my true power!”

K’ just sneered at YAGAMI and gave him a thumbs down gesture of pure disapproval with his red gloved hand. He heckled, “Give me a fucking break already. The real Yagami would never resort to using his Orochi blood in a real fight. And besides, the real Yagami would've been reduced to a madman in this state.”

“If she weren't my opponent,” snarled YAGAMI. “I would have torn you apart with ease.”

“And that's the problem. You're the essence of what Ash thinks is Yagami. A dumb brute who is obsessed with his hatred with Kyo Kusanagi.”

“Ergh! Once this fight's over, I will tear you to shreds!”

“You go do that,” snarked K’ as he casually pointed out Kula sneaking up behind YAGAMI. “You should've kept an eye on Kula, by the way.”

Out of desperation, YAGAMI threw out purple flame shockwaves, the “108 Shiki Yami Barai” technique, in an attempt at deterring Kula, but she easily leapt over the flames. She breathed ice all over YAGAMI before leaping in with a divekick at the frozen YAGAMI and delivering a powerful beatdown on the mirror-clone. She envisioned YAGAMI as Ash Crimson. How dare that meanie steal Kula's sherbet! He will pay for that crime!

At the end of the combo, she performed the Freeze Execution again, turning YAGAMI into a human popsicle. This time, though, the spirit of Kula's robotic partner, Candy, showed up and barraged YAGAMI with her complete arsenal before disappearing like a phantom. Upon closer inspection, Candy resembled a metallic human woman, reminiscent of a 1950s zeerust aesthetic. Her creators must have been a bunch of retro nuts, weren't they?

YAGAMI's anger now at a boiling point, he furiously yelled, “Annoying gnat! You will die at my hands!”

As she was immature, Kula retorted, “I know you are, but what am I?”

“Ergh! You will pay for that!”

As expected, YAGAMI flared up a mighty aura of Orochi flames, charging up for his “Ura 180 Shiki Ya Sakazuki” desperation move. He unleashed a powerful wall of purple flames threatening to burn Kula to a crisp. As the flames travelled, However, Kula taunted YAGAMI before ripping that move off and sending an ice wall right at the purple flames.

At first, the flames pushed the ice wall back, but Kula put more oomph into her ripoff attack, pushing the flames back so far back that they singed their original owner to a crisp. KO! It looked like Kula was the winner.

Seeing as Kula was the winner of the fight, K’ bought Kula another strawberry sherbet, placating the ice manipulator Brutal Chojin enough to the point where her hair and eyes reverted back to their natural colors. She rushed off the icy ocean to enjoy her sweet treat. Yay!

[MadameButterflyKnife]

got bored and wrote something for an OC of mine

poggerschampion

"It's just a game in the end, you know? That's what combat is. A game!

Why are you cringe ass fuckers looking at me like that?! I'm right. That's all a battle is. You fight until your last breath, you give everything you got, and then you either lose or you win. You practice, train, go through the same thing over and over again, grind through the motions, the exploits, the orders, day and night just for the hope you get it right. 

You people think you can win by just believing in yourself, clinging onto some higher idea of "morality" and "justice" and all that unpog bullshit. But all that's gonna win you is a game over, and a bullet to the head. You win by being perfect. Unthinking. Loyal. No room for deviation. No room for error!

If you lose...if you get caught, or fucking die? That just means you weren't good enough. That despite everything that they've done to hone you, sharpen you like a fine blade, you just found some way to let them down. You let your guard down at just the right moment. You were never built to be vulnerable. And if you let anyone in like that...you're doomed to be nothing but a blood-spattered head in a hood! And you fucking deserve it.

...But if you're good enough, you know you can't be beaten. And I am good enough. They called me Ultimate for a reason. Even if the second part wasn't exactly accurate, but that doesn't matter!

Despite what all of you have tried on me, I know I'm good enough. I know I can win this-I'm not gonna lose! I-I'm not letting you people in my head! I've been preparing for this my whole life! I've done this countless times-I've felt the sweet satisfaction of a completed mission, the blood on my hands, the fact that I'll return and I've proven that I've always been worth the effort to my handlers, to someone! This won't go all to waste just because after a few weeks in this cringe killing game, you take me down when I'm off my game-I'm NOT OFF MY GAME! I can't be-

And I won't let some unbased prick like you end this game for me! "

[Guma]

In honor of 12/25, I made lyrics for Endless from the Sonic.exe mod.




Hey, we heard your bopping and your beeping
And this rhythm you're keeping this Friday night
Hey, we saw you take on that blue hellhog
And boy, did you put up a good fight
[BF]

Out of curiosity, of the codes received
You used one to open our door
Of infinite fun, endless possibility
Sprawled up and down, from the ceiling all around to the floor
[BF]

Running, jumping, Badnik busting, running, jumping, Badnik busting
All the same every game, but we don't care ‘cause
It's all in the good name of fun
[BF]
Why don't you come in and have fun?

The true name of God is spelled S-O-N-I-C
You trying to sabotage this night so holy
Games are meant to just be fun, anyone would know
Once the countdown starts, it will not stop, just
(3, 2, 1, GO!)

Running, jumping, Badnik busting, while developers test abilities
In executives they're trusting, always it ends up in futility
Can't there be some way to have cake and still eat it to the bone?
Can't there be some day where no one is suffering or alone?

People of all genders, nationalities, religions, races
See us on the Internet and culture every single day
But apparently the horrifying image of our faces
Drives the promise of eternal fun from their lost souls away
No one has quite understood how our efforts haven't had any luck
They'd understand fine if they could, but—
[clown]

That was just uncalled for, and it proves our point
That to live your life in hate and ignorance will only serve to disappoint
Your Girlfriend, her parents, and everyone you've ever loved
Will all someday die, lest you heed the warnings of us saviors from up above
[BF]

Why are you so desperate to beat us in this music battle?
We're surprised you haven't even once found it a waste of time
Will you try to leave this place and go back with the other cattle
Or will you stay here and join the endless chorus of our rhymes?
If you still think us the devil, everything we've said so far is true
Maybe we'll go to the next level, paint your soul a luminescent blue

Then again, it looks like you've been tuckered out from all that singing
Battles with Xenophanes can do that to your mental state
Guess not everything is endless, we can see your ears are ringing
Live and learn, that's what they say, especially when fighting fate
Tell you what: we'll let you leave, but you can come back if you know the code
Just don't let yourself be deceived by those who spindash on the devil's roads

[Dookie]

Writing Prompt: Take anything here and write it out.

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/J...ADSketches

[GoldenCityBird]

Advice wanted, if this thread's good for that.

I'm currently kinda stuck with writing two WIP fanfics for exactly the same reason: I'm having a load of trouble setting up conflicts in a realistic manner. I know what the conflicts are, but when it comes to properly building them up... *sigh*.

I should probably state what they are, in case anyone wants to help:

[folder=Beepity Boopity]

1: Two investigating forces have differing ideas on how to continue persuing a case. One half works within the confines of the law; the other works by a set of different laws (which, among other things, forbids talking to most of the suspects and potential witnesses). This has been working for them for a while now, but I need some sort of catalyst that will encourage a split.

2: This one's a little more complex: An outlaw (Drustan) is hiding away somewhere, and has reluctantly gotten involved with some mercenaries. Two groups are after him: a lawful militia led by someone who is somewhat sympathetic with the outlaw (Ajani), and a more chaotic bunch led by someone who wants him dead (Lydia). I have set up the conflict between Drustan and Lydia, but I still need to set up the Ajani-related conflicts (while, ideally, making sure Lydia has a point).

[Whistle]

Advice wanted, if this thread's good for that.

I'm currently kinda stuck with writing two WIP fanfics for exactly the same reason: I'm having a load of trouble setting up conflicts in a realistic manner. I know what the conflicts are, but when it comes to properly building them up... *sigh*.

I should probably state what they are, in case anyone wants to help:

[folder=Beepity Boopity]

1: Two investigating forces have differing ideas on how to continue persuing a case. One half works within the confines of the law; the other works by a set of different laws (which, among other things, forbids talking to most of the suspects and potential witnesses). This has been working for them for a while now, but I need some sort of catalyst that will encourage a split.

2: This one's a little more complex: An outlaw (Drustan) is hiding away somewhere, and has reluctantly gotten involved with some mercenaries. Two groups are after him: a lawful militia led by someone who is somewhat sympathetic with the outlaw (Ajani), and a more chaotic bunch led by someone who wants him dead (Lydia). I have set up the conflict between Drustan and Lydia, but I still need to set up the Ajani-related conflicts (while, ideally, making sure Lydia has a point).

I think the biggest thing you might need to do is consider each person's perspective. For example, I could see something happening in the first fic where the second group tries to use the first group's methods, but goes too far and ends up causing the suspect to shut down too much (and something even worse can happen from there). The second one, basically similar; you can basically try listing each group's concerns for Drustan and why they are right or wrong.

I hope this helped.

[GoldenCityBird]

Thanks, Whis! That actually helped quite a bit.

[Whistle]

Some dumping/advice-asking/character critique of my own.

I'm thinking about how to write one of my characters, ensure that they're sympathetic while still having some sort of flaw...

My character Eco, as you may know, is a dragon, and the elder twin son of a king that just died. I'm thinking that his motivation will to become the king of the nation to ensure that he gains people's respect, since the

MelsemeYes, I finally came up with the name for the culture that speaks Alfeme ("our tongue"); it means "of our water"

 still doubt that someone who hatched female can really become such a king. Due to sexual dimorphism giving him tiny, nonfunctional wings, Eco has sewn his own wings out of fabric to be seen as a man, and has even learned to fly on his own. Touching a man's wings is a sign of major disrespect, and yet even casual innkeepers wish to feel his prosthetic wings. Even if he is normally an empathetic, driven, and occasionally forgetful dragon, disrespecting him and his identity can light somewhat of a quick, if tranquil, fuse for him.

I'm wondering whether this seems like a good character arc for him:

1. Sends letters to Autumn, Liz, and Jake
   
2. (absent for the rest of act 1)
   
3. Meets the trio in the forest, heals Autumn's leg
   
4. Tries to get fruit for a healing liquid, but getting them almost kills Liz and Autumn
   
5. Confronts an innkeeper who touches his wings, showing his angry side
   
6. Reaches the oracles, who tell him that he will not be the king
   
7. After Autumn is left for dead, reveals why he needs to be king in a heart-to-heart
   
8. Confronts his brother Lelfe, who removes his wings in front of a city's worth of onlookers
   
9. Forced to stay at his podium with Lelfe (vs. fly and prove his gender) as votes are cast to see whether he will be king
   
10. Sees his friends in plight, forgoes his chance at becoming king to save his friends
    
11. After an argument with Lelfe, pilots the ship to bring him to the ceremonial island where he will become king
    
12. Takes Lelfe to his ceremonial kinghood, but is interrupted due to Autumn and Liz being in danger from the volcano
    
13. Takes flight in front of his brother to save Autumn and Liz, proving his identity, though his wings are burnt in the lava
    
14. Comes back to his brother, who finally respects Eco as who he is
    

If want to give advice on how to handle this further, I'd really appreciate it, or if you just want to give me some pointers on how to write him a bit better...

[Florien]

It's generally good, but it seems like a good chunk of his character arc beats are dedicated to him saving Autumn and Liz. If that's what you're going for, that's good, but it might also be interesting to have him interact more with Jake (who just seems to exist for the letters beat and then vanish from relevance), and also maybe have a time autumn and/or liz need to save him to help create a front bookend for his climactic rescue at the volcano.

[Whistle]

It's generally good, but it seems like a good chunk of his character arc beats are dedicated to him saving Autumn and Liz. If that's what you're going for, that's good, but it might also be interesting to have him interact more with Jake (who just seems to exist for the letters beat and then vanish from relevance), and also maybe have a time autumn and/or liz need to save him to help create a front bookend for his climactic rescue at the volcano.

Ah, thanks! I'll try and see where I can put those sorts of scenes; I haven't come up with any situations where there's really a need for the other characters to save him, because (admittedly) he's about twice their height.

[SmilyCube112]

I've decided to have a go at writing a fully-fledged story, and I decided to share an extract from it here:

---

It had been a tiring day, dealing with press conferences and interviews all day long. The Chief Scientist, Charles, could finally take a chance to relax in his office, and reached it when the clock struck 4PM. He opens the door, only to see his son, Larry, waiting for him in there with a look that said he wanted to talk NOW. "Can't you wait un--" He said, not even getting a chance to finish his sentence before being interrupted by the teen. "I can tell you lied to them, once again."

"I had every reason to lie, though." Said the Chief Scientist, before Larry retorts with "No you didn't. You never had a valid reason to lie about anything. Ever." Charles took one deep breath, closed the door, and said "I do have reasons for lying." Larry scoffed at this, and said "Is it the bribes you took? The credit you stole for other people's work? I never once cared for anything you said, so why should I care about the lies you've told about a dumb space rock?"

"BECAUSE IT WILL DESTROY THE EARTH, YOU BRAT!!" Charles yelled, which took Larry by surprise. "What? It's barely big enough to take a minor village off the map!" Said the teen, to which his father replied "You are WRONG. That thing is HUGE! Enough to completely obliterate the planet itself! That is why I lied to them at the press conferences today - TO KEEP THEM FROM PANICKING!" Larry was stunned. He had no argument for this. For once, his father did have the right to lie to the public. Larry decided to just leave his father's office room, but before he opened the door, his father calmly said "Please............tell no-one of what we just spoke about."

"We'll see, you corrupt fraud."

---

That I can confirm will be in Ch.2 of the story, which I took to calling "The World We All Share".

[Whistle]

Wrote a poem for Creative Writing, seeing what you guys think.

How to Checkmate

With your black king flanked
From every angle
By white rooks, knights, and bishops,
Send your final pawn to the green corner square.
He is your queen now.
After they move their knights in preparation,
Travel four squares diagonally to the centerboard
And rapture their undefended bishop,
Just out of rooks’ reach.
As they prepare a pawn capture out of desperation,
Strafe the queen over to a white square along the edge
And slay the knight.
The king is trapped by his own wall of soldiers.
Checkmate.

[Whistle]

Another Creative Writing poem, this time a little darker.

Monuments (tw: discussion of death)

Brick sand caked onto the windshield,
The wipers unable to dust away.
She spattered. Fumed. Whimpered.
After fifty long years
Since Pop-Pop won her in a race down Tilghman Street,
Tricked out ever since in the same well-worn brushed bronze skin,
Copperhead Jean's reached the end of her road.
Hammered now.
Glued to the Utah pavement.
But the Monuments have ordered the sand to clear.
It's okay, Pop-Pop.
I can scatter you among them myself.

[Whistle]

Holy shit is this the Whistle's Creative Writing Poems Thread?

Wisdom Teeth

We lurk in the back of your mouth,
Waiting to find our way in.
Your first tooth fell out
Not too long ago;
Some fairies are buying your baby dents.
Please, let us be.
We just want the light.

Our time to strike is yet to arrive.
But one of us grows in here Sideways
To push at your bottom jaw,
Fold your teeth over like mountains.
Please, let us be.
We just want the light.

A big girl now, ain't you?
The pain you feel, great rite of passage.
Ole Sideways is fighting on, right through your gums,
Finally sighting a hint of the light.
Please, let us be.
We just want the light.

Something twists. Breaks the gums.
Light.

Sideways splits and cracks from the pressure,
Stripped out as an ancient screw.
One by one,
The drill finds its way,
Splinters us out into bits
As it yanks us right out.
Please, let us be.
We just wanted light.

[awe921]

no, because i finished writing the first draft of the first chapter of a deranged fanfic/web.... comic?/?????????/Thing

witness it in all it's glory, HERE

would love some feedback, particularly on how the hell an editing phase of writing something works.

yours truly

Awe.

https://youtu.be/VVtYNODIJrk?t=12

[Whistle]

no, because i finished writing the first draft of the first chapter of a deranged fanfic/web.... comic?/?????????/Thing

witness it in all it's glory, HERE

would love some feedback, particularly on how the hell an editing phase of writing something works.

yours truly

Awe.

https://youtu.be/VVtYNODIJrk?t=12

I haven't read the whole thing yet, but you're off to a great start! I really like the sense of humor you had, especially with the reasoning behind Selfie's nickname (which is also a nice little nod at the fourth wall). I stop playing with the b- The POKÉBALLS. And put them in my pocket. is also a really funny little adult joke. Emily and Selfie also have a really nice dynamic, and I also like Selfie's snarkiness; also, it was really cool how you've managed to raise the stakes throughout the story, especially with the follower, the injury, etc.

Anyway, advice for editing: it actually occurs in four stages, really.

1. The Development Edit: Going through the story and making sure character arcs, plot, etc. are cohesive.
   
2. The Line Edit: Basically making sure the words flow well together; basically working on dialogue, narration, etc.
   
3. The Copy Edit: Fixing minor grammatical and spelling errors, if possible.
   
4. The Proofread: Using a fine-toothed comb to fix any errors that may have been missed in all the rest of the edits.
   

You can go through a ton of drafts, but overall I'd say that these 4 stages are a useful guide for editing. Now I should try applying that to my own story...

[wingedcatgirl]

i made a thing with catfolk and i'm anxcited about it. here is the prologue.

[Florien]

Seems cool!

[wingedcatgirl]

i made a thing with catfolk and i'm anxcited about it. here is the prologue.

First chapter's up. If you already read the prologue you can click here to go right to the chapter, or you can just go to the series hub and get to it from there, which seems to be what the website wants readers doing.

[wingedcatgirl]

i made a thing with catfolk and i'm anxcited about it. here is the prologue.

First chapter's up. If you already read the prologue you can click here to go right to the chapter, or you can just go to the series hub and get to it from there, which seems to be what the website wants readers doing.

ANd another,,

y'know in case you didn't notice via any of the myriad other ways we made available for someone to possibly notice