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she/ her
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476 posts
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points
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Yearling
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Post by TrinitySilph on Apr 24, 2021 0:16:21 GMT -7
The unknown root crunched like ginger in his teeth, spicy and fresh and undeniably pleasurable. He ate with vigor as the sun began to set, thinking nothing of it but praising whatever god may be listening for producing such a fine treat. It wasn’t often that the hybrid stallion was offered such a fine bounty by dear Mother Earth - usually his diet consisted simply of grass and, if he was lucky, the occasional mushroom.
In his eagerness, the treat was gone too soon, before he could even catalogue it. Khanda sighed softly to himself, then turned once more towards the endless sea. It was somewhere to the west, he thought, though he had long ago become disoriented and lost track of… most of the world, really. A fantastic side-effect of communing with the gods was a rather scatterbrained inability to remember where one had been and where one was going. He was fairly sure he was still pointed west… the moon was too close to the centre of the sky to know for sure, which was alarming all on its own - when had it become midnight and why hadn’t he noticed? The last he knew, it was twilight…
Ahh, well… Khanda was more than used to losing time by now. In fact, the last time he could recall not routinely losing parts of whole days was when he was a colt at his mother’s side, before that first, fateful dream. After that it was all mushrooms and rituals and dreaming and visions. What a life to push on a foal…
The striped stallion sighed again and made his way back into the border between forest and meadow. Here, where the foliage offered protection by way of dappled shade, where he could watch the moon-silvered grasslands stretching out to the edge of the foothills bordering distant mountains… here, he would sleep. Sleep was good. Rest was good.
He barely made it before his legs nearly gave out, crumpling into his newfound nest with a groan of relief. Gods… he really was exhausted. How long had he been awake for? Had he exhausted himself so badly? But then… if he was truly that exhausted, perhaps he would also not dream. That was nice, when he could get it. His dreams could be so strange, full of violence and blood and dark prophecy. He woke from his dreams exhausted and confused, wishing for a restful night. The gods’ word was rarely peaceful.
He woke late in the day, when the sun had replaced the moon at its zenith, beating down on the earth and dappling the forest in emerald and gold. Khanda yawned, blinking blearily, and didn’t bother to rise. It was far more comfortable to just lay there, held secure in the protecting roots of the massive tree he had fallen asleep under. Marvelous that he had found such a good resting place in his state, really - with such huge roots, the tree was practically a cave, sheltering him from sight, though he could still see the meadow from where he lay. Khanda blinked. Had the roots been so large when he went to sleep? Had there been so many flowers? They were everywhere, blanketing the entire forest floor for a horse-length all around him. ”Gods above…” he murmured.
And more miraculous than the flowers was that he had not dreamed. For the first time in years, he had rested through the night and woken refreshed, if a little slow to start. Perhaps this was why the gods had not allowed him to sleep properly - when Khanda slept, too many flowers grew. He laughed as he rose. It made perfect sense, of course. Delightful.
”Would you spend your life asleep, or in service to the gods?” a gentle but commanding voice murmured from the shade. Khanda’s head snapped up and he looked around to find himself staring at a white stallion, paler than any he had ever seen. The creature was supernatural, nearly translucent in his paleness, with eyes like glass and a necklace of sparkling diamonds. Most shockingly of all, the creature was a horse, but with the feathered wings of a great bird.
”I will always serve the gods,” Khanda replied as he scrambled to his feet. ”Always. But how did you find me here, so far from the Great Herd, and without any of my tools…?”
The stallion smiled slyly, knowingly. ”Khanda… you didn’t think those mushrooms were the only way to speak to us, did you? We know where you are, always.”
How foolish he felt. Of course the mushrooms weren’t the only way. They were gods, for goodness sake.
”How may I serve, my lord?”
”You have been given the gift of life. Spread flowers and trees throughout the dying world - hold back the devil in his pits of fire. Where you walk, life will grow, and those who forget our voices will be allowed to remember. Can you do this, old friend?”
Khanda bowed his head, and just before his eyes closed, he marveled at the pretty blue colour of the grass. But why should he? Grass was always blue, wasn’t it? ”With joy in my heart, my lord,” he replied. ”Always.”
And then the pale god was gone and Khanda was miles away from the deep green wood, trailing a path of flowers through the desert, turning rivers of blood to clear water. The gods whispered in his heart, the devil screamed in rage and was trapped and trapped and trapped forever.
Khanda woke just before dawn, under the tree where he had collapsed, in the grey twilight of a world not yet ready to join him in wakefulness. Disoriented and sluggish, he tasted ginger harsh on his tongue and shivered in the pre-dawn chill. A dream, then? A prophecy? Or a warning? He couldn’t remember. Gods help him, his memory was so terrible. Perhaps, if it was important, the gods would remind him later. For now, he would try to sleep again, before the sun rose and it was time to move on. Sleep was good, and the gods’ word was rarely peaceful.
Prompt: Do U Believe In Magic? Bonuses: -- 800 words + (1039) -- Ate a new food -- Met Nehemiah -- It was all a dream
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she/ her
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476 posts
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points
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Yearling
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Post by TrinitySilph on Apr 29, 2021 21:29:28 GMT -7
On a beautiful spring day, in a field of lilac and lavender, a golden mare awoke with a sense that she was floating, as though adrift in an endless violet sea. How nice it was to lay there, in a monochrome world, soft and dreamy with sleep… but the world needed her, and to the world she would go.
Odette rose from her bed of flowers and shook the sleep from her coat, from her head, feeling light gather in her crystal horn as the sun glinted off its twisting facets. With its power, she could do wonders, and there were many who wished to claim those wonders for their own, but they would never find her in her springtime forest, in her field of lavender, where she reigned supreme and secret.
Her path took her to many places that day: to the woods, where her horn brought light to the shadows; to the spring, where she refreshed enchantments on the waters that flowed out into the river that fed a nearby human village; to the hillside to sing with the birds; to a glade of wildflowers where she danced with a family of deer until the sun began to sink in the sky. Wherever she went, flowers sprang up in a trail. Wherever she looked, there was peace, love, life.
When the moon rose, she returned to her lavender field, and there he waited, her elegant mate with his coat of shadows and horn of gilt silver. He never spoke, her beloved, and she did not know his name, but as she was the sunlight, so was he the moon, and as she slept, he guarded the dreams of all the world. They shared silence, never conversation, but always in comfort and love. He brushed the base of her horn with his lips and she lay down in her bed of lilac and closed her eyes. He dusted the sky with constellations for her, a million stories glittering in eternity, set in the night like diamonds. She slept. She dreamed.
Prompt: Fantastical Fantasy Bonuses:-- Your character dances in some way
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she/ her
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476 posts
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points
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Yearling
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Post by TrinitySilph on Apr 30, 2021 20:10:10 GMT -7
The barista had gotten used to him by now. He wasn’t sure why, or why she’d want to - he hardly said two words to her. She’d even memorized his order (black coffee, small) so he barely needed to say more than “keep the change.” She seemed so interested in him, in his life outside her little cafe, that he was starting to wonder if she moonlighted as a reporter. Had she learned something more than she should? Did she know where he had come from? Did she know about Nadia?
But that was paranoid, of course. She was a barista, nothing more. Maybe she was just curious about how such a young man had gotten himself so riddled with scars.
Aftershock took his drink to the back corner of the cafe and settled in to watch the people in blessed loneliness and silence. It was his daily routine - get coffee, watch people, try to figure out what passed for normal in this strange world outside the Collective-- no. He shouldn’t call it that. That was too kind. It was a cult and he should say so. So hard to retrain a mind molded to obey from such a young age… he didn’t think he’d ever be free of it.
He sat alone for some time, until a familiar weight distended the bench cushion next to him. His unwanted companion slung an arm around Aftershock’s shoulders, and he got a rather unhealthy whiff of whatever the other man had been smoking, tangled into the fabric of his sweater like a secondary fibre.
“Khanda,” he growled softly, under his breath in an attempt not to snap and draw unwanted attention. “Get your stink off me before I make you.”
“Oh, phoo,” Khanda grinned, lounging on the couch as if he owned it, but he did remove his arm. “Can’t an old friend say hello?”
“Hello doesn’t usually involve…” he gestured at all of Khanda. “Whatever this is. Have you showered this week…?”
“I’m offended. I should curse you.” Khanda sipped his drink, something overly sugary and ultra-caffeinated, Shock was sure.
He scoffed. “Curse me? Come on… that was all bullshit and you know it.”
“I know they did terrible things, but not all of it was entirely wrong.”
“And yet you can’t walk down the street without getting lost. How’d you even manage to get here?”
“I happen to be guided by many gods--”
“Mushrooms are not gods.”
“How are your dreams?” The other man countered. “Still terrible? I have some mushrooms that could help with that.”
Shock scoffed and looked away. Khanda didn’t need to ask. He knew damn well exactly how terrible Shock’s dreams could be, especially after the week Shock had spent couch-surfing in the hole-in-the-wall Khanda called an apartment. He dreamed of blood and knives and death. He woke screaming Nadia’s name. Khanda told him he had muttered his enforcer’s oaths in his sleep.
“I called Nehemiah.”
Shock’s head snapped back around with a snarl. “You did what??”
“I called him. He said he’s bringing a friend.” Khanda’s eyes were clearer than usual, and Shock wondered if, just maybe, the former priest had laid off his ‘divine substances’ for a while before coming down to the cafe. It would certainly explain how he’d managed to get there before dinner time. “You need to talk to someone who isn’t me. He’s a good therapist, and you won’t feel so cornered in public like this, with friends around. Please try… please?”
Shock growled, and the door beckoned pleasantly. He could just go… he’d only be wasting a third of a tiny cup of coffee. He could take off before that sickeningly sweet asshole even arrived. What did he know about what Shock felt? What could he possibly know?
But that was cruel, wasn’t it? Khanda told him what Nehemiah knew. How could the son of a murdered mafia boss not have some kind of intimate knowledge of what it was like to be born in the dark, to be pushed around and weighted down with expectations and punishments until you didn’t know who you were or which way was up? No… Nehemiah knew. Other than Khanda, he might well be the only person who had any idea what Shock was going through.
He was also dazzlingly pretty, difficult to look at, and harder to talk to.
“Fine,” Shock grumbled. “But no more than an hour. Not a second more-- I’m serious!”
Khanda lit up and nudged Shock with his shoulder. “Excellent! I would have hated to have had to lock you in my apartment until he arrived.” Was the ragged man kidding? Hard to say. He had certainly done worse as a godspeaker. When people spoke of the cult, they spoke most of the terrifying efficiency of the enforcers. They rarely knew how terrifying the godspeakers had been to the people stuck on the inside.
The cafe door swung open again, and Shock’s eyes narrowed slightly at the figure who entered.
“Right on time,” Khanda mused, glancing at his phone. “Impeccable timing, as always.”
Nehemiah glanced around through expensive-looking sunglasses so dark it seemed that it must be difficult for him to see at all, caught sight of the scruffy pair in the back, and smiled. At his side was an exceptionally beautiful woman with thick ivory hair and eyes as blue as the summer sea. Shock stared, then looked away as she caught him looking. He’d never seen this woman before, but… really, why did he care? She was with Nehemiah - she was either a charity case or someone from his past, which meant connected to the mafia, and Shock wanted absolutely nothing to do with any of that.
“So good to see you both again,” Nehemiah said as he drew up chairs for himself and his companion. “Thank you for calling me - it means the world, truly. Khanda, Aftershock, this is Odette. Odette, these are the clients I told you about. Or…” He smiled a little, and Shock grimaced. “...I hope, perhaps… friends?”
Khanda snorted. “See, I’m happy with that, but if you can get Salty here to accept it, you’re lookin’ at more of a miracle than I can provide.”
Odette laughed. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Aftershock finished his coffee, poised and ready to flee and not entirely comfortable with how Odette’s placement at the table made it very difficult for him to get away if he needed to.
“I don’t want to talk about anything serious today, if that’s alright with you?” Nehemiah offered, and Shock looked up, blinking in wary surprise.
“What’s the point, then?” he asked.
“Just conversation,” the therapist replied, adjusting his hood. Shock was glad he didn’t push it down - he didn’t like the stares that followed Nehemiah whenever he revealed that he was an albino, as if that was some shocking thing, not to mention the million-dollar necklace he refused to take off. Shiny, glittery son of a bitch was better off covered up and discreet. Maybe he was learning, after all. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think, perhaps, all any of us needs is a little closeness. All of us have suffered loss in the last few years… That’s why I brought you, Odette. I don’t want to dredge up anyone’s past, just…” Shock was surprised to see… what was that? Pain? Contrition? Longing? Nehemiah was always so bright, smiling and cheery - it was unsettling, alien, to see that guard come down, even a little. “It would be nice for all of us to relax, I think.”
Odette reached over and squeezed Nehemiah’s hand gently. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she murmured. “I’m new to this city - I don’t know anyone.”
“Well, aren’t we a fine set,” Khanda sighed. “Stranger, helper, daydreamer, asshole. Should be worth a decent conversation, at least. Whaddya say, Shock?”
Aftershock grimaced and fought the urge to kick Khanda under the table. “Daydreamer is too light for you. ...But fine. We can talk.” It did sound nice, to have people to be close to again. It had been so long… he was tired of being alone. At the very least, it had to be better than insufferable therapy sessions.
“Hah! That’s the spirit!” Khanda smacked Shock on the back and turned to Nehemiah, grinning. “You can get the next round of coffees, rich boy.”
Nehemiah beamed. “Very well.” He got up, straightening his infuriatingly perfect grey coat and making sure his hood stayed in place. “Any requests?”
And requests were made and purchased and brought to the table, with a pile of snacks besides. Nehemiah had been paying attention, it seemed, when Khanda waxed poetic about the foods he and Shock enjoyed and longed for in their childhood. He had listened when Odette mentioned her love of all things lemon. He passed Shock a small, black coffee without even needing to ask.
Odette told them stories from her time on the road - ancient houses still thatched in the old way, rivers lined with eager folks panning for gold, and a forest with a legend of enchantment and unicorns. Khanda told stories of long-forgotten gods, and the things he had seen in the smoke and in his dreams. Nehemiah made them all laugh and forget their woes, if only for a little while. For the first time in years, Aftershock started to relax. These people were not his friends yet, but… it was so nice just to listen. The cafe melted away, and cold people-watching was replaced by warmth and companionship.
Maybe things would be ok after all. Three hours passed, and he didn’t run away. Maybe, just maybe, time would heal these wounds, too.
Prompt: Absolutely Average Bonuses: -- 1500 words + (1615) -- Includes Khanda, Nehemiah, and Odette
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The Outsider walks among us
riposte and tear until it is done
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They/them
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10,846 posts
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points
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Addict
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Post by + ebonite + on May 1, 2021 20:08:13 GMT -7
Entry Check
Prompts: 2. Fantastical Fantasy 4. Absolutely Average 5. Do U Believe In Magic
Completed Event: Yes
Points Earned: - Completed Event (100,000)
Prompt 2: Fantastical Fantasy - Dancing (Bonus) - 10,000 - Word Count: 341
Prompt 4: Absolutely Average - Include Another Character (Bonus) - 10,000 - Word Count: 1617 (1500+ words) - 20,000
Prompt 5: Do U Believe In Magic - Dream Logic (Bonus) - 10,000 - Include Another Character (Bonus) - 10,000 - Eating Strange Food (Bonus) - 10,000 - Word Count: 1024 (800+ words) - 15,000
Total: 185,000
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