#prompt response
The warm feeling in his chest radiated a soothing calm as he watched his friends clamor around his apartment. He wasn’t really talking to anyone, but he was glad that they were there.
Wesley’s eyes flitted from the small group who bobbed and weaved between one another, the decorations slowly climbing the walls and the plastic tree stuck in the corner. Glitter covered ornaments shined as the last of the sunlight clung to the room, each ray slowly losing grip on the room. The sun brushed a gentle warmth over the apartment, the last bit of warmth that almost made things seem normal.
Like she wasn’t truly gone.
The thought was only there for a moment as his coarse hand slipped over his shirt, his palm resting on his chest above the heart that shattered and crumbled, dark onyx eyes falling to the coffee mug gripped in his free white-knuckled hand.
“Wes,” The gruff voice was gentle as another body settled onto the couch next to him, a hand finding his shoulders that seemed to send an electric current straight through the tanned man’s worn down body. Obsidian eyes flicked away from the cold coffee that Wesley was too tightly holding. Beside him was one of her friends… Ian was tall, cocoa skinned with honey colored eyes that never lost their kindness.
“How about I take short-stack for the night? James and I don’t have anywhere to be, you need sleep.” The older twin’s voice was hushed as to avoid drawing the attention of the others, his brother James who was holding Courtney over his head as she topped the tree, auburn hair tied into a knot at the base of her skull. Near the kitchen archway was Taylor, a curvy collage student who held the small bundle in question, green eyes on the young infant’s face as she cooed…
“I don’t know, I need to get used to it– I’ve heard the first few months are the worst–”
“They are, trust me. But Fallon wouldn’t want you to do it alone. We’re right down the hall if something happens or you miss her.” Ian gently squeezed Wesley’s shoulder before he stood. “Just think on it,” The pair met eyes once more before Wesley let his head bow. The mention of Fallon hurt… But thanks to the friends that they– he had now, because of her, he would be just fine.
Their daughter would be okay too.
“I’m proud of you,”
The voice was gentle, a whisper on the nonexistent wind that made the tanned skinned man grow ghostly pale, his grip on the mug’s handle slipping as the half filled ceramic tumbled towards cheap hardwood floors. Dark hued eyes flicked up to the others who occupied the flat to see if they had heard hervoice as well. The hairs stood up on his neck, his chest became painfully tight- tears brimmed his eyes as anguish washed over the young single father.
‘Please, just go away–’
The images that flashed in his mind’s eye only served to drive the stake further into his chest, his breathing was labored and panicked as his back slumped, eyes shutting tight to try and cut off any further games his mind would play.
She had been stunningly beautiful, with pale honey skin, dark red hair that held the waves of the ocean in them, while her crystalline blue hues never ceased to carry wonder and imagination. Her laugh was melodious, her voice a song all its own. But that’s what she had been.
Hehadto remember that, for their daughter. For their little Nova.
Just a couple of quick notes this week.
First, I’ll be away next week, entertaining friends, so the blog will be silent.
Second, it has recently become apparent that I’m spending a lot of time and effort producing content that isn’t the most beneficial. With everything going on in my life this year, it’s hard to keep on top of two blog posts every week, and I think one usually ends up getting lost in the cracks. So after speaking with my Facebook Group and friends on Twitter, I’m going to be pulling back to one post a week. Starting when I return, the blog will update only on Mondays. The next post will be a regular blog musing, and the post after that will be more free fiction.
Don’t worry, nothing is actually going away. I’m just going to try a little harder not to work myself to death. In light of Monday’s post, that should make sense ;)
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When I asked my Facebook group which character they’d like to hear more about, they almost unanimously chose Rose.
After my Seven Deadly Domerins series, I played around with the idea of another series of Heavenly Virtues prompts. I only ever did one in the past, and they’re an interesting group of traits to consider. But I write a lot about Domerin (as you may have noticed) so I wanted to dedicate the project to someone else. At first, I wasn’t sure if I had enough available Roses to make it work. No one has quite as many incarnations as Domerin. But after considerable thought, I managed to find just enough.
The first Heavenly Rose featured the virtue of chastity. The next one tackled humility. Next came patience. This week we’re looking at temperance, which is defined as: moderation or self-restraint in action, statement, etc.; self-control.
I will admit to a tiny bit of cheating here. This Rose comes from the same world as the one featured in the humility tale. But she’s not exactly the same, and much further along the timeline. Someday, that will all make sense. But for now, I hope you’ll enjoy this glimpse at the future.
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On the outer edge of a distant galaxy sits an isolated star, orbited by a single, lonely planet. Oh, there are other celestial bodies in the near vicinity. Asteroids, moons and dead rocks aplenty. But the star and its planet are the only signs of life, cut off from the rest of their neighbors by a thick field of celestial detritus that makes navigating the surrounding space both difficult and treacherous.
Somewhere on the northern and western most continent of that planet, can be found the most brilliantly beautiful caldera lake. The water is so blue, it resembles the sky at noon on the brightest, sunniest of days, and so clear that a person standing at its edge can peer clear to the base of the lake bed some thousand feet below. Mountains ring the lake on three sides but, on the fourth, it is surrounded by several miles of forest, before the final set of mountains completes the ring.
On a clear day, the breeze often rustles the leaves of those nearby trees before sweeping the lake’s surface, causing tiny waves to lap against the lakeshore. Light glistens off the water’s surface at varying intensity as the bright orb makes its trek across the sky, and every puffy white cloud that wanders by seems to stop briefly to examine itself in the blue mirror’s surface.
So it was easy to understand why Valin frequented the area, sometimes even braving autumn rain squalls to take in the breathtaking nature of the lands surrounding his new home. That the caldera lake had been born from one of the most destructive forces any planet had ever known was of little concern to him. The fires that carved the lake’s indentation had long since burned themselves out. And while he was aware of the galaxy that lay beyond the bright dust cloud in the hazy night sky, and the politics practiced by most of its planets’ inhabitants, he mostly tried not to think about it. Keep Reading.
As always tagging: @merigreenleaf,@dreameronthewindand@ilioneus
If you’d like to be tagged when I post these, please let me know!
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While I was working on the final trilogy in the Celestial Serenade (Soul of the Sun), my characters pulled a fast one on me. They attended a heavy metal opera – because that should be a real thing, you guys. And afterward, they talked with the actors about the show. One song became particularly important during the course of the discussion. It was called Distant Whispers and one of the characters admitted that it was vaguely based on Oracle Visions.
As soon as my characters started this conversation I realized, with some dismay, that I was going to have to actually write the song if they were going to quote specifics about the lyrics.
Writing this song took two weeks and taught me that I’m really not good at writing songs. But I’m still pretty proud of the results!
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Forum Post 5646645243
User:Mordred
Timestamp: April 3, 16:42 (Galactic Standard)
As promised, here are the lyrics for Distant Whispers as written by Remerin “Remmy” Isrical and Gaia “GeeGee” Larath. Please note, these are the lyrics as the song was originally performed. Before they added the extra verse.
-M
Keep Reading.
As always tagging: @merigreenleaf,@dreameronthewindand@ilioneus
If you’d like to be tagged when I post these, please let me know!
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OTP Prompt 369
“Hey!! You didn’t wish me happy daddys day.”
“No.”
“Why not, Sifu Hotman?” Aang’s face was split in a grin as was his normal. Their dream for a peaceful world was building. He leaned against the Firelord looking out into the private garden of the Firelord where Katara held their new infant with a smile showing the baby boy to Mia. The lady of the fire nation showed next to no emotion as was her custom but her dark eyes flashed up to Zuko who flinched.
“I just…it’s not important. Happy father’s day, Avatar Aang.” Zuko looked away, not meeting his wife’s gaze. She knows. He then glanced at Aang out of the corner of his eye. Wondering if the Avatar, Mr. Optimist, Always-Sees-The-Positive Aang, knew. If he knew that Zuko and Katara had found comfort with each other.
“I’m just going to miss her so much.” Katara was leaning into Zuko’s embrace. She and Aang had barely been married for a month. He was still needed at the new building city they were building. A place where all four nations could live and interact in harmony. The way it should be. How it was before the war, No Zuko thought firmly. Better than before. He tightened his grip around the master waterbender. Zuko had returned to the southern water tribe to help with some war restorations, when Gran Gran had fallen ill. He hadn’t felt right leaving his friend alone while her new husband was away. Logically he had known that she had Sokka and Suki, but they were mourning the loss too. So he had written home to tell Mia that he would be returning later than expected knowing that his nation would be in good hands with his uncle and fiance watching over it. So he was there when the water tribe elder passed. And he was here now as the water bending master sobbed against his chest. He rocked her softly, reminding himself that she was a friend. He was comforting a friend. That was all. She was married. He was engaged. His army had wiped out her tribe. Killed her mother. She had hated him. They had become reluctant friends, and any kind of spark they may have had had not mattered then and sure didn’t matter now. Yet softly tipping her chin back and pressing his lips to hers had felt more right than anything else he had done. Katara’s breath had gasped against his mouth then her arms were around his neck. She pulled her body closer to him, her soft curves molding against the hard planes of his own body. Her fingers tangling in his hair, demanding more with soft urging moans. Zuko softly loosened her hair to card his fingers through her hair. Katara’s fingers trembled when they pulled away from each other, panting each other’s air. Zuko knew it was wrong. Knew all the reasons they shouldn’t but the trembling fingers loosening his outer robes scattered those thoughts in the like a blizzard scattered snowflakes.
The next morning when Sokka walked into Katara’s hut to ask if she’d seen Zuko he had discovered them together. There was angry yelling. Defensive shouting. And in the end the three agreed to never speak of it. It was a mistake, it would never happen again, as far as they were concerned it never happened. Aang had returned shortly after and Zuko had gone back to his palace. Three months later his friends had attended his wedding to Mia. And Katara was pregnant. About three month’s along. Zuko’s heart had stopped. Sokka had cornered him and informed him in no uncertain terms the child was Aang’s child. Reminded Zuko that nothing had happened. What they had done was unforgivable, it would destroy Aang and the world needed him. Their own feelings and thoughts on the matter didn’t matter. So he congratulated Aang and Katara, and hugged them. If he was a bit stiffer than normal it was attributed to the stress of his wedding and running a nation.
The announcement of the avatar’s first child, Bumi, had been met with enthusiasm from the entire world. No one noticed the Fire Lord’s lower enthusiasm. Mia had asked about his shortened temper, he had denied it. They had had an explosive fight. Slept in separate rooms for nearly a month. Zuko had apologized. He didn’t explain his reaction but he still found his way back into his wife’s bed.
“I think Bumi would love having my child named after him.” Aang smiled at Zuko. Zuko decided he was imagining the emphasis on the possessive word.
“He would.” Zuko agreed. His smile was tight. The child had Katara’s blue eyes. There was nothing really to mark the child as his. He looked too much like Katara. There really wasn’t much of him in the child. But he swore there was even less of Aang. “You and Katara have a wonderful family.”
“Yes, we do.” Aang agreed. “When are you and Mia going to start one?”
“I don’t know yet.” Zuko avoided the conversation. He changed the topic to the city and world affairs.
That night laying in their bed Mia was cushioned on Zuko’s bare chest when the conversation he knew would come up finally left Mia’s lips.
“You and Katara.” It wasn’t a question. Zuko flinched.
“Only once.”
“Do you love her?”
“I love you.”
“But do you love her?” Mia sat up partially to stare down at her husband. “More even?”
Zuko pushed himself to his elbows and reached out to push her hair from her eyes. “Whatever my feelings for Katara are or were or could be doesn’t matter. I love you. I’m with you.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “And it’s you I’m staying with.”
“And if the child turns out to be a firebender?” Mia pressed.
Zuko flopped down onto the bed. “He’s been tested. He’s a nonbender.” Zuko closed his eyes. “And it doesn’t matter.”
Edited, 841 words. Third person. Muse discipline testing for emotional continuity.
@deepwaterwritingprompts, prompt #1637: “You came into this world covered in snow and silver.”
Text: Death was a shadowy figure, standing in front of three identical doors. “Choose,” it said. *
“Am I dead?” I asked.
Death inclined their head ever so slightly, extended an arm towards the doors and said once more, “Choose.”
“Ok, so these doors lead to like different afterlifes, afterlives?, or rewards or punishments, right? No don’t answer that. They could also all lead to the same place as some sort of metaphor about humans not having free will. Don’t tell me.”
I studied the doors. All three were plain wooden doors with a regular door knob on the right. I looked closer at the patterns in the wood grain. Was that a face on the second door? Whose face, my fathers? No he wasn’t dead, yet. But maybe this was happening outside linear time?
“Hey, do I have to chose now or can I think about it for a while?”
“Chose,” Death said again in their monotone reverberating voice.
“Can I glance through the doors first?”
Death leaned back as if they had never been asked that before. After a minute, they nodded. I heard a three sets of clicking and clacking as the three door knobs turned. The doors cracked open.
Behind the first door I saw a living room. Pleasant music drifted out. Seated on the sofa was my grandmother knitting the sweater she hadn’t finished for me. On the coffee table, a spread of cookies, homemade, sat.
Behind the second door I saw a street. People walked back and forth between street vendors and food trucks that lined the street. Others sat in the shade talking, laughing, or just resting contently. Distantly I could hear a band playing on a stage.
Behind the third door I saw a black void. As a stared into it I began to see shapes without borders and hear sounds that bled into each other. It was empty of meaning but full of potential.
The doors closed. I turned to Death. “Thank you, for letting me see what was on the other side. I’m ready to chose now.” They said nothing.
I walked up to my door opened it and stepped through.
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lookturtles: Would you write a fic about Dief and RayK’s turtle being buddies?
I somehow lost your initial ask, but here’s the fic response. Thanks for the prompt!
~800 words; not the best thing I’ve ever written but it’s done.
Turtle liked Diefenbaker. He was big, loud, and hairy, but other than that not so bad.
“Roof.” Diefenbaker said. Turtle didn’t say anything. Turtles didn’t make noises, as far as Turtle knew.
“Now, you mustn’t take that attitude, Diefenbaker.” Fraser chastised, leaning down so that Dief could read his lips. “You’ll be perfectly fine in Ray’s apartment for the day.”
“Ruff.” Dief said petulantly.
“Well, yes, I’m fine with you accompanying us on this case, but as I said before, the only witness is quite scared of dogs. Yes, I know that you’re half wolf, but that information isn’t exactly comforting to our witness.”
“Rrrr.” Dief acquiesced, settling down on the floor and pointedly looking away from Fraser.
“Very well.” Fraser said in that tone that said he was Disappointed in someone. “I’ll be back shortly. Please try to behave while I’m away.”
Ray entered the room, all energy and motion as usual, his arms swinging and the rest of him practically vibrating. “Ready to go Frase? Told the wolf not to eat my turtle yet?”
“Don’t be silly, Ray.” Fraser said. He straightened up from where he had crouched while he talked to Dief. “Diefenbaker would much prefer a donut to your turtle, I’m afraid.” He looked disapprovingly at Dief, as he often did when he was talking about the half-wolf’s hunting habits. Dief whined and closed his eyes to drive home the point that he wasn’t paying any attention to the Mountie.
“Yeah, okay.” Ray said. “Ready to go?” He led Fraser out the door in front of him, ushering him forwards. Once Fraser was out of sight Ray quickly knelt down, pulling something that was wrapped up in white paper from his inside pocket. Dief looked at the wrapped thing with interest.
“Consider this a bribe.” Ray said seriously, looking Dief in the eyes. “I give you this, you don’t eat the turtle. Deal?”
“Roof!” Dief agreed enthusiastically.
“Greatness.” Ray said, unwrapping the object. “Pleasure doing business with you, Diefenbaker.” He shook Dief’s paw, then set the unwrapped item on the floor. It was a sprinkle donut, and Dief had it scarfed down before Ray had both feet out the door.
The door shut with a click, leaving Dief and Turtle alone in the apartment.
“Boof.” Dief said in the direction of Turtle’s enclosure. Turtle chewed on a bit of lettuce, and Dief panted at Turtle happily. The television set was just across from Turtle’s enclosure, and Dief nosed it on.
Baseball. Turtle didn’t mind watching baseball, but Dief didn’t like it, so they rarely watched it unless there was nothing else on. Dief switched channels until he found one that was showing an old game of curling. He looked back at Turtle for approval. Turtle chewed the piece of lettuce approvingly, and Dief settled down in front of the set to watch the game.
Turtle didn’t completely understand the rules of the game, but as long as Dief liked it, curling was a fine sport to watch. Better than staring at Ray’s walls all day.
“Sweeeeeeep!” An announcer over the TV cheered, and Diefenbaker howled along with them. Ray would probably be getting noise complaints again.
They watched like this for a while, until the shadows started to get long on the walls and the programming switched to a sitcom with an annoying laugh track. Turtle started wondering when the next feeding would be.
Dief cocked his head, ears going straight up, and he suddenly stood and switched the television off again. Turtle saw why a second later when Ray walked in, followed by Fraser. Both were dripping wet and covered in what looked like several different types of glitter.
Dief sniffed Fraser’s hand and sneezed. A cloud of glitter took to the air.
Ray glared at Fraser. “This never would have happened to me if I had never met you.”
Fraser peeled himself out of his red serge, hanging it carefully on the hook by the door that Ray had put up just for him. Glittery water dripped to the ground below the hook. “Well, at least we caught the smugglers. And the kidnappers.”
“At least.” Ray grumbled.
“Ruff.” Dief said.
“Yeah, laugh it up, fuzzball. You didn’t eat my turtle, did you?” Ray peered into Turtle’s enclosure, looking satisfied when he saw Turtle watching him impassively.
“Boof.” Dief sounded offended.
Ray ran a hand through his spiky hair. It came up glittery. He groaned. “I gotta take a shower.”
“Of course, Ray.” Fraser said. There was glitter in his hair, too.
Dief panted. It sounded an awful lot like he was laughing at them.
“What do you know?” Ray asked. “You’re a wolf. What do you even do all day?”
Turtle retreated back into its shell. Neither would ever tell.
