Writing Group

Hey guys, been a while :D dunno when I wrote this (or how)
It’s a ride but enjoy :D

‘Ka-chunk’.
I perked up—my mother doesnt make that sound. Only he puts his keys down that way.
I was getting a late night snack in between homework assignments, well, in between homework I did and homework I should have done. I was in the middle of putting some roasted nuts back in the cabinet and had two bags still out on the counter. I hurriedly and quietly (as possible) took some crackers from one bag before shoving it back into the cabinet and taking the other with me. I had been right, and my instincts prickled as I scampered out of the room as a familiar figure ambled in the other side. As I’m thinking about it, I wish there was a different word for familiar because he is not familiar to me in the familial sense which it roots from, rather in the way violence becomes familiar to soldier.
I would say I am a soldier. I would, but familiar means not familial to me, clearly. I am a soldier who cries at the violence and suffers under it day in day out. I have become a veteran of life, of him. Yet it all still tears at me, hiding from the blackest corners of my mind, still under the enemy’s control.
As a veteran I have become a cuckoo clock, crying the same cry day in and day out. I wish I could say something different but I know nothing else. I cry and I cry and I shriek and I shriek of the same thing every day. Nobody listens much anymore, honestly. It becomes background noise. ‘Ah yes, there it goes again, that cuckoo’ they say. Its their reminder they live in this house. They tried changing the sound long ago when the clock first left the battlefield. Home was not home and familiar was violence. Or was that the veteran? They don’t talk to the cuckoo clock. The cuckoo clock only cries the same cry day in and day out. The cry of the cuckoo which says nothing new.

hey folks anyone got any tips on how to write a mystery? 'Cus i love mysteries and want to write some, but the one i have written so far (fora Dungeons and Dragons oneshot) wasn't that good, so any advice?

Hello! New here. Is this a group only dedicated to stories, or are general worldbuilding writeups and notaries also welcome?

(Part 3)
Power of course gives access to larger recesses of the talent pool amongst the human population, but skills are needed to prop that notion up. Thus implied are artists. (I am very much going for visual artists, but performers, athletes, scientists, among many others are also (and have always been) implied here) Many artists struggle with mental health, and I wonder if this is also why. One thing many people in these professions or fostering these aspirations have such (sometimes quite powerful) desires to change the world (even if small). Once again, these desires require skill or power to manifest, which take years to develop. In the meantime, while the eventually-talented artists suffer at the hands of the burning desire they lack the skills to execute. This is what I suspect affects the poor mental health of many artists. The aspiration to create or to change the world around them with their ideas, and perhaps this overcomes some or pushes others toward power which means they stop developing their skills as a goal for the world if not altogether.

(Part 2)
It’s always execution that takes a lot of time and effort to get right, and even then, it sometimes just fails anyway. The priviledge power gets you is the ability to not be good at something and still get your way. Once again, as an example, the government seems to prevail almost no matter what, and revolutions are, well, revolutionary, for a reason. The government needs much less skill to run and be widely accepted, though more importantly, accepted, than a grassroots organization or rebellion. Many rebellions fail to exert their idea—the idea that the current government should change hands or be abolished completely—because their leaders and participants are not skilled enough in how they go about rebelling. They are often not persuasive or transparent enough, or maybe they are only equally skilled as the government at effectively organizing. This is the lack of skill that kills those without default power at their fingertips. This is what I believe makes power so enticing and addicting to others. It’s a poison that strikes the heart of why many of us live—our ability to change the world, and our own agency to express ourselves even in the privacy of our own homes. When a powerful person has a desire, it is easy to express, whereas the skilled person puts in the labor and passion into it before it manifests, and the unskilled and powerless crumble and suffocate under the weight of their own dying desires.

(Part 1)
Okok new braindump, people! Its on my blog as well, but I wanted to put it here as well since I've not posted here in a while.
It's completely unedited so please forgive any grievous mistakes :3

I find myself really motivated by emotions. I mean, everyone is, but I can’t help but feel trapped if I can’t express myself. It is this that makes me wonder if that is why power is so addictive to so many people. (I promise they’re related)

In a world where we humans are social creatures who agree to live in a large and now global society, power (in and of itself or) over resources can get you the means to artists and those who have cultivated the skills to express your worldview. For example, control of government can help you pass or not pass laws that let people live the way you want them to live more easily. You get to exert your will on the world no matter how skilled you are if the position you are in makes that your de facto ability. As artists (or athletes) will tell you, doing things yourself takes a lot of time to build the skills that you need to perform what you want, even if you have the idea behind it well planned.

Where do you guys publish your works if you do? I've been searching for a site that isn't just for fiction, but I haven't really found anything other than substack TT

can we ask for tips in this group?
If so, I've wanted to ask, how do you handle time skips? I've been trying to write a slice-of-life and I desperately need to incorporate some form of a time skip to "a couple weeks later" but can't do so without it sounding weird. (This is my first time writing a "longer" story so sorry if the question is ridiculous)

part 2!
TW: blood, discussion of death, rot
He tried to dive, once. Tried to follow a sinking carcass as it plunged into the darkness. But he was small. And the further he went, the more the ocean weighed on him, the more it pressed on him from every direction. The more he felt it crushing him, slowly, slowly, until his ears popped. Until clouds of blood, his blood, bloomed from where his ears bled, obscuring his vision. Until the water he pulled through his gills tasted duller and duller and he needed more and more but still he was getting dizzy. Until the weight of the water made it harder to move in any direction but down.

Until he felt a hand on his tail. Floyd, wordlessly gazing at him, imploring him to come back up. Blood was clouding by his ears too, mirroring Jade once again. Floyd’s wide eyes were unblinking and filled with fear, but despite it, he didn’t try to pull Jade back up. Didn’t scold, or demand, or plead, at least not out loud. Just had his hand there, on his tailfin.

That was enough to convince Jade to swim back up.

He didn’t dive again. He never did find out what happened, until he came on land.

There he was able to read from their bound sheafs of dead trees (this was what they called books, up here, a far cry from the carved and stained tablets of the ocean). Those said that dead in the ocean sank and sank until they fed all that they fell to, all the way to the seabed, even bones picked apart by worms.

How ironic that he learned of the depths all the way up here.

The explanation makes sense for the ocean. It’s very fish eat fish down there, even in the relative shallows of his home. Nothing stays dead for long.

But up here on land there is no such rush.

So that's a wrap! Any feedback is greatly appreciated, I want to know how to improve. I feel like in some places its a little hammy, like, overdramatic, but ehhh i can't really put my finger on it or place how to fix it (•̀⤙•́ ).

TW: Blood, discussion of death and of rot

hey folks remember how I posted on here a lil fragment a while back and said I would work on the whole piece and polish it and flesh It out into a solid narrative?
Yeah lmao I did none of that.
What I did do was write another chunk of it. Tbh like the last piece this was already like 90% done I just polished it a lil.
A couple clarifications - this, like the last piece, is from jade’s pov - jade is a merman who later goes on land, this piece focuses largely on when he was a kid in the ocean. Floyd is his twin brother. Yes, this is fanfic, twisted wonderland fanfic.
And it’ll be 2 parts.

Rot is inevitable.

Jade knows this. He’s very glad to.

Azul doesn’t care for rot. He finds it unpleasant. Disgusting. Unsanitary. Any rot anywhere in his kitchen, his lounge, his dorm, is to be scrubbed out with extreme prejudice. Jade’s room is the only place left untouched.

Floyd, too, does not appreciate it. He finds it sad. The loss of something that could have been enjoyed. Rot to him is a missed opportunity. He couldn’t be further from the truth.

They are both so wrong. Rot is life. Rot is new opportunity.

In the sea, everything that died sank. It all sank deeper than Jade could swim. He would ask some of the other mer, the whale mer, shark mer, tuna mer, swordfish mer, who could swim deeper. They would tell him how all dead sank, which he knew well enough, and how they would be slowly eaten by whatever was below as they sank, but they could not tell him what happened when a carcass reached the bottom. Even they could not swim that deep.

I'm so excited! I'm glad I found this group, I'm an uprising author, I can't wait to show y'all some of my poems!!

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 7, Final
---
Navigating the space with ease, he came upon the glistening, unearthly water. It shone as if it was in the sunlight that couldn't reach this dark, damp place. The shimmering blue careened to the young prince as he stepped forth. Sinking into the water, he gently held the woman in his arms as he encased her in the spring. Slowly, a small trickle of light flowed forth. It swarmed the two of them, and began attaching itself to her body. Growing more. The sparkles of light became so numerous they were blinding, and the prince screwed his eyes shut, but the glow persisted as if he hadn't done so at all. A deep warmth, and a comforting chill circled around them in the water. Spinning, swirling, embracing them in a tingling sensation, it spread throughout their bodies and they went from being solid to becoming one with that dancing translucent shine. As darkness returned, a young woman opened her eyes again. Glancing around she truly wondered if this was the afterlife. A colorful place basked in darkness like this, with a glowing spring surrounding her. As she turned, a face greeted her. And thus began her true journey.
(It gets a little rushed at the end but this is a late night late night post XD)

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 6
---
Clarice's tears stop. A shaky breath exits her and imperceptibly tickles the nose of the great being. "I-I fell in here. My-my arm is gone-I just-I don't want this to happen to me. Not like this. I know-I know- I'm cursed but this just can't be it...Please." Her cries rang out, quiet, broken. Humans have so little blood, and it takes even less of it's loss to go into shock. Death was mere moments away for her. "A curse...What a cruel twist of fate, human. I, too, am cursed. Trapped here in agony, removed far from my homeland." The colorful lights danced in the scales, shifting with each of the beasts words. A string of drool fell from her mouth, and she rubs it away. She stares up at the being and realizes that they're both going to suffer here. Maybe it will be both of their graves. But...she doesn't want that, but-! It's too late for her...Fumbling, she reaches to her neck. That chilly, heavy amulet maintained it's place even during the chaos. Pulling it from her, breaking it's bond to her body, she holds it out. "Th-then, take thi-s." Breathless, she managed out the few, shaky words. The dragon looked to her, and as a single talon slipped it's way through the chain, she collapsed to the ground. A small smile graced her face, as tears slipped into the dirt below. In moments a brilliant light consumed everything in sight. The fearsome, mighty dragon looked no different than the young woman before him. She convulsed, a spasm here, there. Unable to comprehend the overwhelming light that filled the space, she sat awaiting death, no longer able to form a single thought. The dragon moved forth, and embraced her. Lifting her he moved through the cavern. This was not a random, unknown place. It belonged to his family. The royal family that ruled over the magical continent and all it's peoples. And he knew a secret only he could. That the spring at the end of the cavern could save a single life every 100 years.

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 5
---
Blue, yellow, pink, purple-it was such a beautiful sight that Clarice would have been overjoyed to see such a scene, if it were not about to become her grave. She fumbles on her knees for a moment, unable to stand without her other arm, before she finally gets up on both legs. It feels as if her blood has run cold, and like the cavern is spinning, warping. Gagging, she stumbles forward. Tears run down her face as she hovers her singular hand over where the wound was. She laughs a bit, and walks more. And more. Further. Farther. Turning back, she can no longer see where she fell in at, but the blood trailing behind her induces a deep sickness in her. Her blood looked like a magical liquid, embracing all the colors of light around it, and seeping into the deep purple ground beneath her. In her lethargic, limping movement she finally comes upon a large opening in the cavern. No longer a narrow path, but a wide space bedazzled with the rays of multicolored light. A deep throb goes through her left side and Clarice falls to her knees, no longer able to bear the pain. She can't continue. How could she? She was going to die here. Alone. Wet. In this beautiful place that felt like the worst nightmare in the world. Breaking into sobs, Clarice laments everything her mother had done for her-just for this to be her fate. As her cries ring out, broken and encased in a despair no other could know, a giant field of dust flows out in every direction. Rubbing her eyes what stands before her is far more frightening than a missing limb. It was a dragon. A large, dark dragon reflecting the lights will a dampening hue. The scales trailed across it's body as large wings receded behind the figure. The dragon's maw reaches her, and as it opens her world stops. But she is not consumed. Instead what tumbles out is not fire, nor teeth to snatch her up with, but words. "What are you doing here, human?"

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 4
---
A long, dark, and heavy dream takes her. In a way, she thinks that this death could suit her. Being whisked away, far from others, to drown in agony in a deep isolation. But fate has other plans. Her curse won't let her go so easily, and much less in such peaceful slumber. Coming to, Clarice coughs up lungs full of sea water. The deep, horrific sting of the salt water burning her eyes, nose, mouth-everything! As she does her best to come to she finds herself in a set of water logged ruins. Covered in vines, moss, and absolutely swamped with slow moving water, mixed between the sea and a potential river. Clambering forward she does her best to see in the damp, flooded ruin. A long tunnel stretches out before her, with holes in the top of it occasionally letting in small glimpses of light. The exit is not visible from either end, and so Clarice has no option but to trudge onward. As she continues forth the tiny pinpricks of light are left behind. The air becomes heavy, hot, and it feels as if the water has started moving much faster. In the darkness the wet clothes clinging to her drive her to the end of her sanity, and as she stumbles the growing current takes her under. Flailing, she barely breathes down a few gulps of air before she is in free fall. A giant opening in the tunnel she could not see in the darkness swallows her whole. Stirring, her body cries out in deafening pain. Vomiting, she crawls on the ground in tears, not knowing what's happening to her. As she finally looks around, she realizes what's wrong. Her arm is gone. Not just metaphorically, or as some kind of saying. It has been entirely ripped off in her decent into the cavern. The blood cakes her clothing, and her heart is beating out of her chest at an insane pace. A chill runs up her spine and she barely gains enough sense of mind to glance around. Basked in a colorful light, she sees that the cavern is covered in gorgeous crystals.

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 3
---
But this can't be. The man before her is without a doubt the rumored monster leading the bloody, war consumed land of the Domani kingdom. The man who has over a dozen dead wives. The very one standing before her, showering her with such polite kindness, was a bonafide murderer. It stirs a deep confusion in her. The heart that beats faster each time he kisses her hand in respect, and freezes in fear when thinking about the atrocities he's committed. After this dizzying journey to port, they finally arrive and board the ship to head to the Domani Kingdom. The journey starts out quite normal for a sea faring voyage. Decent seas, fair winds, and the crew bustling amongst themselves, excited to return to their homeland. As they venture further in the sea the water becomes dark from the immense depth beneath them. The sky turns, and a gentle rain becomes an oppressive downpour. Soon the sea has done as she does best-turned tide. With all hands on deck her maid attempts to encourage Clarice back into the inside of the ship, but the chilling rain makes her feel alive. Like a slap awakening her from a long, drawn out dream. She realizes this is her life. No longer in that homeland of hers, and on her way to a place filled with uncertainty. She laughs ever so slightly, face upturned to the drops pelting her experience. Uncertain if it's instability, or if she's gone ill of mind, her maid goes to fetch his majesty. He comes out onto deck as the water slushes against the side of the ship. The rain slows his approach, and just as he comes within reach of her as she holds onto the railing, the vessel lurches. Thrown from the railing backwards, nearly falling into the kings arms, the wave churn, and slam the ship in the opposite direction. Fredrick goes to grab her hand, but it's far too late. Clarice has gone overboard.

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 2
---
As the king speaks, he announces something completely unexpected to her. She will be wed for the peace of the kingdom. Not to any random man either, but Fredrick Domani, the infamous warmonger and bride killer of the Domani Empire across the sea. He has been wed countless times, and each time the bride either died or disappeared. It was a fate much more terrifying than just dying to the blade of a hateful, neglectful parent-it was an unknown. How much she would suffer, the pain she'd go through, what he would /do/ to her before she died. She knew nothing. Compared to being hauled off to the slaughter house, this made her stomach churn in unbelievable nausea. Since this is a visual novel you have some choices you can make as the player, but I'll go along the more "common" or simple story path. Fredrick Domani stands next to the Emperor, your father in name only, and intervenes before the Emperor can cause you any more grief-insisting that it would be best to set off immediately. Clarice returns to her room, packs what little she has to her name, gets into a scuffle with her half siblings who view themselves as "true royals" for sharing their fathers golden hair and being treated far better as children of the queen. The scuffle ends and Clarice sets out on a long journey to port, along the way she sees sides of Fredrick that are never spoken of-not that Clarice had ever heard. He is kind to his vassals, fair, and just almost to a fault. The consideration he shows her in his every action is foreign and so overwhelming that it strikes a terrible unease in her. Helping her into the carriage? Ensuring her tattered dress is replaced with something comfortable? Assigning a servant who is devoted and faithful without a hint of malice? The realization dawns on her that perhaps this man couldn't have been the one the maids spoke of in their gossip session as they walked the halls. Perhaps it was someone else entirely.

I was messaging Kiwiiii and ended up spilling about the story related to some of my character boards in the art group, so I decided to post them here!! It gets much more story like as it goes on trust in me my friends ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Visual Novel "The Cursed Ones"
Part 1
---
We follow Clarice Matis, a child of a lowborn concubine in the Matis kingdom. She is cursed from birth to die young and miserable, and her mother is distraught by this. She turns her sole family heirloom, a beautiful ruby amulet, into a ward to stave off her childs curse. It works for the most part, but her mother passes not too long into Clarice's childhood, and so she grows up without a single ally inside the kingdom. Thrown in a supply room with a small decrepit bed, falling apart furniture, and walls peeling with age, this is the life Clarice has always known. Her family cannot be so hasty about killing her-her mother was smart enough to spread a rumor that interacting with, much less killing Clarice would set the curse upon her attacker. Clarice lives, but it is not a life with dignity, nor an ounce of happiness. As Clarice becomes an adult she is finally summoned by her "family", the king, queen, and her two half siblings. Before an entire crowd of onlookers, nobility from all ranks, servants from every part of the palace, there is not a single familiar face amongst them. The king leers down towards Clarice, and smirks. Clarice assumes he finally found a way to get rid of her without being in danger, and prepares to die. She does so casually in her mind, but even she can't deny the despair forming in her heart. The heavy, thrumming pain that threatens to tear itself out of her chest-is this all her life would amount to?

part 2!

But the earth does not mean to cause him this pain, he knows it, for through all the pain the perpetual lightness that keeps him moving is gone and he is free of it. He need not move and breathe and talk and eat and find and live. The weight settles in his bones and he does not need to be at all.

It hurts. But he knows this is the only kindness the ground can give.

And every time it is stolen from him. Somehow adrenaline floods his veins and the lightness is back and it makes him live. It pushes him to struggle and scramble, dirt digging beneath his fingernails as he is willed by everything in him to climb out of the earth’s embrace. He chokes on the soil so graciously filling his lungs, he needs it out, hacks it up and recoils from its bitterness.

He breaks the surface and awakes, still in his bed, smooth clean linen and pillows. His fingernails are clean. His lungs sting a little from panting.

They never did that before, in the ocean.