Writing Group: False Faces and Lying Voices (PRIVATE)

Hello, Fibbers and Falsifiers!

Hey, you’ve told a lie before, right? What do you do if you are caught? Do you fess up, or lie even more? It’s time to see how well you can keep your web of lies straight… or perhaps it’s time to watch it unravel, because…

This week’s Writing Group prompt is:

False Faces and Lying Voices

RULES AND GUIDELINES BELOW!
Make sure you scroll down and read them if you haven’t! You may not be eligible if you don’t!

Liar, liar, pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire! We’ve all heard the phrase, though it is not the most intuitive of sayings. One would assume this means every liar carries spontaneous combustibles, but we all know that is not the case. Why they are strung up… we may never know.

But it does get one thinking, doesn’t it? The punishments for lying can be a multitude of things. From something as simple as a tiny rub of soap on the tongue to the far more severe extensive prison sentence. We could explore what it’s like to be a child who always lies to get what they want, saying they did their homework when they didn’t, or causing some mischief and making someone else take the fall. Are they successful liars, or do they always get caught? Perhaps this can be about someone who always lies to their partner, or even partners, to be able to continue their double, triple, or more lifestyle. Maybe it’s an office worker who has lied and cheated their way to the top, or even a CEO who lies about their company’s products. This could even be a chance to explore the deceit in a political circle.

But as always, there’s other angles to look at. What about people who lie for the benefit of others? An older sibling taking the fall for a younger sibling breaking their mother’s favourite vase. Perhaps a friend needed help with an essay, but the teacher noticed that it was almost a direct copy of yours, so you tell her that you copied from them instead, letting them take the grade. There’s many little white lies one can tell that do little to no harm at all; “Did you like her cooking?”, “Yes.” But actually no. This spares any hurt feelings. “Are you coming out tonight?”, “Sorry, I’m sick. I can’t.” An understandable excuse when one just wants some down time alone for an evening rather than being social. But we need to remember there’s also lies that hide things that are wrong, like someone being hurt by another’s words, but saying they’re fine. Even a simple smile can be the biggest lie, hiding so much inner turmoil.

So many lies, so many masks. This is your opportunity to fib, cheat, and take risks to see how much you can get away with.

Don’t worry, we’ll have a fire extinguisher on hand for your trousers.

—Shawna

Remember, this is part of our weekly Writing Group stream! Submit a little piece following the rules and guidelines below, and there’s a chance your entry will be read live on stream! In addition, we’ll discuss it for a minute and give you some feedback.

Tune into the stream this Saturday at 7:00pm CST to see if you made the cut!

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We read at least four stories during each stream, two of which come from the public post, and two of which come from the much smaller private post. Submissions are randomly selected by a bot, but likes on your post will improve your chances of selection, so be sure to share your submission on social media!

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Comments

71 responses to “Writing Group: False Faces and Lying Voices (PRIVATE)”

  1. L. L. Marco Avatar
    L. L. Marco

    Missing Pieces
    By L. L. Marco

    “Where is she!?” Lorna blurted the words before her vision had even fully returned. Her head was swimming with pain, her extremities tingled.

    “Miss Brennan, please-” a woman’s voice tried to sooth. “Don’t move, you’ll hurt yourself.”

    Hurt herself? She didn’t give a damn about that! Lorna sat upright, causing another stab of pain. The lights burned her eyes.

    As her vision steadied she found the same pale walls and sterile smell of the Institution, but the room wasn’t recognizable. This only served to make the intern more frantic. She tried to sit up, but a stronger pair of hands held her.

    “Where. Is. She!?” Lorna couldn’t get the vision out of her head. The world around her felt fake; only one thing felt horrifically solid and that was the vision of her friend’s limp body…

    “Lorna, please…” Doctor Camilla whispered, “If you don’t calm down, I can’t protect you–”

    “Protect ME!?” Lorna shouted, tears streaking her cheeks. “What about her!?”

    Camilla’s brow furrowed.

    “Tell me who you think you’re talking about, Miss Brennan. Let me help.”

    Lorna’s lip quivered.

    “D-Delainy Lavertue. She’s an biology intern, she came to the institution a few months ago-”

    The guard snorted and Camilla shot him a sharp look. The room fell quiet.

    “Lorna, your group was the last. A year ago.”

    Lorna inhaled sharply and tried to force herself up again, only to be thrown back on the gurney.

    “Liar!!!”

    “Please Lorna! We’ve gone through this so many times, there’s no one with that name in the Institution! I checked the records myself!”

    Lorna screamed out in fury, throwing her fist and catching the man’s jaw before leaping off the gurney. A siren sounded and before she could run a wave of guards rushed in and held her down. Camilla’s face contorted, distressed, as she pushed the injection into Lorna’s neck, trying her best to avoid the old injection sites. Her body fell still.

    “How many times are you going to put her through this? She’s lost her mind.” The guard hissed, rubbing his wounded cheek.

    Camilla simply turned away.

    1. DesOttsel Avatar
      DesOttsel

      Something about the emotions in this piece just aren’t clicking for me. I think the pacing might just be too fast. It feels like Camilla isn’t really listening to Lorna because she immediately corrects her reality. Maybe it’s the dialogue, and how direct it is, I don’t know. Just something is not quite real enough.

  2. Twangyflame0 Avatar
    Twangyflame0

    Masks
    By Twangyflame0

    A man with a snake mask watched as the masquerade ball continued on without a hitch. He could hear the debauchery happen all around him. Everyone was dressed so finely. Everyone except Detective Valik von Vandermeer. He strided through, taking in all the stares he got. This wasn’t his first encounter with the aristocracy and since he already was unpopular among them, he might as well as embrace it.

    He walked up to the bar, where the attendant was wearing a rat mask. The scrutiny of Valik’s presence was palpable, as those that were near him immediately walked away. Valik could almost recognize a few of them by just their demeanors.

    “And what is the greatest private detective doing at a party like this?” A woman in a snake mask slithered up to the seat beside Valik.

    He simply smiled. “Oh I just decided to enjoy my infamy, Mrs. Greenhorn.”

    “And are you going to explain how you got in from the front door?”

    “No, I don’t think I will.” He giggled a little, enjoying this little game of cat and mouse.

    She gave an exasperated sigh. “So you’re not even going to explain why you are here? I would assume it would be for an investigation of sorts. You’ve never cared to join us before.”

    “I might be investigating, I might be enjoying my free time. As someone whose income comes from contract to contract, I have more free time than the rest of you.”

    She simply stared at him for a moment and then shook her head. “It’s quite rude to lie to a lady. Hmph.”

    She walked away, anger evident in her steps. Valik simply smiled and ordered his drink. He slyly looked over near the center of the room where the host was entertaining his supplicants. He wore a lion mask with a crown on its head.

    After taking a few sips and making sure his target wouldn’t leave, Valik decided to go entertain the king of this masquerade, while he waited for his partner to find those files. This would be a great party indeed.

    1. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      Hooray for more Detective Vandermeer! I love that you take the prompt in a literal direction for the false faces part. Excellent choice to write the setting in a masquerade ball. I love that the reader isn’t really sure if he’s lying or not about the free time even though Mrs. Greenhorn has no doubt. And then it turns out that he really is because he’s there for his target. I like that bit of deception. From how he speaks to her, it feels like he knows Mrs. Greenhorn.

      One of my favorite things about Valik is how laid back and unabashedly secure he is. He’s very flamboyant and charismatic. I dig it.

      Critique:
      As someone who’s (whose) income comes from contract to contract, I have more free time than the rest of you.”

      I really love the atmosphere of this one, Twang. It’s very mysterious while also having a buoyancy to it. Low key and very well written. Valik is a fun, great character, as well. Thank you so very much for writing this and sharing it.

    2. L. L. Marco Avatar
      L. L. Marco

      We love to see a little game of cat and mouse almost as much as we love to see a masquerade. Animal masks are a fun idea and good at conveying the personality of the person behind them, so I wonder if thats what you did with some of these characters? The host being a lion mask does fit into the scene.

      I do wonder about the first character introduced. The man with the snake mask; does he have any connection to the woman with the snake mask? What role does he play in all of this?

      I wonder what kind of dirt they’re trying to get. I’m intrigued, left me wanting to know more. Good job!

  3. MasaCur Avatar
    MasaCur

    The Ballroom Conspiracy
    By MasaCur

    Cassidy circled the ballroom, her eyes peeled, going from one face to another. She hunted for Magnus Von Nilsson, the deranged former professor, rumored to be crashing the ball.

    Across the ballroom, she caught sight of her partner, Andrew. Andrew looked over, and shook his head, then returned to looking over the other guests.

    As she searched, a man in a crimson velvet suit crossed her path. She did a double take, seeing the greying sideburns and mustache, certain she had her man. She hadn’t met Van Nilsson, and had only the picture from the Royal Frederick University.

    Cassidy called over one of the policemen providing security. Within seconds, a young bobby was at her side. Cassidy quickly found the man in crimson once again.

    “I think I found my man,” Cassidy explained. She kept her gaze on the man in crimson, and pulled her revolver from her handbag. She led the policeman, moving in to apprehend the man.

    Another officer approached. “Have you located him?” he asked.

    Cassidy nodded, without looking away. “Yes.”

    “I’ll help the agent,” the new officer said. “Watch the doors to make sure he doesn’t escape.”

    “Will do, Sergeant,” the younger officer replied.

    Cassidy moved quickly, the sergeant on her heels, as she intercepted the man in the crimson velvet. She jammed the revolver in his side.

    “Going somewhere, Van Nilsson?” she asked.

    The man turned, his eyes wide. From close up, she could see that his sideburns and mustache were obviously fake. The man was a decoy.

    “Help, she has a gun!” he cried out.

    Pain flared through her forearm as a police baton slammed down onto it. The revolver dropped from her hand. Cassidy whirled, to see the sergeant holding the baton. As she saw him, she cursed herself. The sergeant’s facial hair had been trimmed and dyed, but it was clearly Van Nilsson.

    “Arrest this woman!” Van Nilsson ordered, and policemen rushed for her.

    Cassidy reached for her government identification, but was unable to find it. She glared at Van Nilsson, who smirked as held her identification pocketbook in his hands.

    1. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      This is a wonderful tale of deception. I really enjoyed the fact that both I, the reader, and Cassidy was fooled into believing the double was Van Nilsson. You did well building up the suspense, only to pull the rug out from beneath us at the last minute. I hope to read more adventures of the lady detective/agent. Hopefully, she catches him next time. Excellent story and well done!

      1. MasaCur Avatar
        MasaCur

        Actually, I’ve written a number of stories involving Cassidy and Andrew trying to foil Van Nilsson’s crimes, and I’m sure I will be writing more in the future.
        Thanks for the reviw.

    2. Twangyflame0 Avatar
      Twangyflame0

      Ooooo, this is very interesting. I like how you can tell that something isn’t immediately right with the whole situation. The plan is good and I don’t doubt Cassidy’s ability as an investigator, but this feels incredibly easy. And Van Nilsson proves this at the very end. I didn’t even suspect he could so easily impersonate an officer of the law. This just proves how formidable of a foe he is. Very well done, Masa.

    3. L. L. Marco Avatar
      L. L. Marco

      Love a villain who toys with his food. Despite our hero’s thinking they’re three steps ahead, they’re always four steps behind. Clever mind games, I hope Cassidy doesn’t get into too much trouble from this fumbled attempt to apprehend him. Constume play is always so fun, but i’m sure someone screaming gun in a crowded party might cause more issues than just the police!
      Very fun read, good job!

  4. jesse fisher Avatar
    jesse fisher

    False Face and Misunderstood Noises
    By Jesse Fisher

    An eel-like being was stump at what to do now, her black cloak rippled as she moved to get a bit more comfort. Her back was to the only door in and out of the tan room she sat in, her eyes watching two unique young creatures.

    She had been conscripted, volunteered because look at how cute they are, to be the two…dang it she did not get the age from Demon before he and the mother left. With a sigh and a shrug Bell took off the mask that summoned her and formed her own.

    “Maybe some paper masks?”

    A tall civet goddess stood in front of the massage rooms as her ears twitched from the noises emanating from the place. The sounds seemed erodic but that seemed off, then again there was that time that…

    She just shook her head and moved towards the beach.

    “I’m just happy it was only me that found that, otherwise the gossip would just be crazy.”

    Meanwhile inside the massage rooms the source of the sounds slumped to the table, as bladed fingers picked another dead scale and popped her back. Grangal had forgotten how that felt to not have that pressure.

    “You know,” The voice responsible for her current elation, and much more before this, spoke once her near orgasmic sound had calmed. “Saying that you were molting and that your back was out could have saved me some worry.”

    Something hit her then, while her love was still a fragile thing. Emotionally speaking. Another shot of relief and pleasure shot through her as she saw a good chunk of dead scales and feathers were pulled from her.

    “Sorry.” was her response as she rode out the feelings. “The last molt was back when I was still cared on by handmaidens.”

    “I’m not wearing a dress just to make you feel frisky.” The deadpan response almost matched the previous high.

    “So tell me more of this Bell you summoned?” There was the mother’s worry.

    “Alright but at this point the emotional-vampiric eel will be fat after a while around us.”

    1. So I’ve read through twice.

      First thing I can offer is that the bit at the start feels out of place. I have no idea what’s going on there. I feel like the story should have either followed and finished with that scene, or started with the beach stuff.

      Second, kinda minor but who was this civet goddess? You introduce her and then remove her, but her line of dialogue makes it seem like she’s supposed to be important?

      Third, the way you describe things feels a bit messy, and could probably have used some proofreading by either yourself or someone else to help sort those thoughts a bit more. The final line is very confusing and doesn’t make sense to me at all.

      Smaller bits:
      •*stumped
      •conscripted isn’t the same as volunteering. Conscripted means you have no choice, volunteering is the exact opposite.
      •I’m m not sure the significance of this paper masks bit, it’s a bit of an odd note to leave off on.
      •*erotic

      I think you would really benefit from proofreading your own work, as I’ve noticed that you yourself notice these things during Backups. Once you’ve proofread it, maybe put it up in Writing Group chat to ask for some assistance. People can’t always gets to it, but we do have people who like to help when they aren’t busy with other things.

  5. Edward Powell Avatar
    Edward Powell

    A trial of Justice
    By Edward P (w/ help from Luna and Calliope)

    Through an eyeless mask, Vijo felt the sun. He spent enough time in that cell that the warmth of true light pierced through his blind state. Those escorting Vijo wore similar masks except their eyes were open. They wore the clothing of merchants and lords.

    Eventually the procession came to a stop. After a pause, only broken by a sharp click of shoe on tile, a voice cut the silence: “Veretta and its people will know your heart this day.” Click. Click. “One of our own, a prince of the land, stands before the scales accused of treason.” The lord orating turned away from Vijo, and addressed an unseen audience.

    The orator began to incant, “Bveras ot cjeyos, bveras ot miray…”

    The essences of truth, righteousness,and the city of Veretta had been summoned to this hall. The language of magic guaranteed their presence, or would have had the orator not pronounced every word just wrong enough for the meaning of the words to be lost to the weave.

    “You are accused of treason against our city Vijo Corassa, and as such will have your heart weighed against the heaviest heart of justice.”

    The orator gestured to one of the men, who brought forth a box. Within was Vijo’s porcelain heart, which pulsated with fear. Next, a woman stepped forward to the clay heart on the altar to Justice. This heart was far larger than anyone save the orator had seen before, and was reserved for the worst of crimes. With hands shaking, the woman brought this heart before the orator and the scales he was preparing.

    “As the accused, you may see the judgement with your own eyes. Remove his mask.”

    Vijo’s mask was removed, and he took in the sight of his heart being weighed. The clay heart was lifted by his own. His fear of the verdict was short lived though, for as the clay heart was lifted from the scale, the woman misjudged its weight and dropped it. The heart broke, two large chunks breaking off of the core. The heart was hollow and light.

    1. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      I like the worldbuilding you did here. It both reminds me of the renaissance era (the masks and pomp and circumstance) and ancient Egypt (the heart’s weighing). It seems that Vijo was framed. Hopefully, the truth gets revealed, and things get set right.

      I am curious about the porcelain heart and how that relates to the inhabitants of your story. It’s an intriguing concept.

      Well done, and I look forward to reading more from you.

    2. Lunabear Avatar
      Lunabear

      I really love this, Edward. Vijo is such an interesting, tragic character. He’s very silent and resilient, but he also seems resigned in a way to his fate.

      I love that you also went with a literal interpretation of the prompt. I think that the masks being similar shows how committed the people are to publicly judging him and shaming him. It makes them feel like a collective.

      The clay heart’s hollowness feels like it’s a representation of the falsehood of the judge’s position and personality, as well as the woman in crimson.

      I also really love the descriptions you use. It’s got a very middle ages feel to it.

      Overall, it’s a really good story, and I’m very happy that you got to write it and submit it this week. Thank you so very much for writing and sharing it.

    3. L. L. Marco Avatar
      L. L. Marco

      The worldbuilding here is so interesting! In just a few hundred words you managed to craft this whole society and their strange ritual for dealing with its criminals, AND you managed to paint the obvious deceit that lived within it. I love the idea of hearts that live outside of the body; hearts that can be held and inspected and even broken if not handled with care. And the idea of Ideals having their own hearts (Justice, mentioned here, but what else? Mercy? Love? Its endless) There are so many details in this short piece, i’m blown away.

      You spelled Vijo’s name wrong in the first paragraph one time, btw!

    4. DesOttsel Avatar
      DesOttsel

      This story is so good. I love the imagery and the allegory is just a chef’s kiss, but I think the ending could have been phrased better, specifically “His fear of the verdict was short lived though, for as”. I think this takes away from the reveal. It makes it less punchy and shows that something is going to go wrong and save him. Maybe you like that, but I think adding more description of his reaction, or the girl fumbling it, or the sound as the heart fell back to the scale would make the scene more impactful.

  6. Matthew (Handsome Johanson) Avatar
    Matthew (Handsome Johanson)

    Kitty!
    by Matthew (Handsome Johanson)

    It was pretty early in the morning. I rubbed my groggy eyes and quietly headed downstairs and sat gently on the couch. It would be another 2 hours until my husband or our baby woke up, so I had some time to myself to read and relax.

    “Kitty!”

    Or so I thought…

    I sigh and get up to check on my baby boy, but as I quietly headed over, I heard another voice. “Shh shhh shh. You have to be quiet. You don’t want to wake anyone up do you?”

    I quickened my pace until I was just outside my child’s door. Quietly, I slowly creaked open the door to peer inside. It was still dark, but the morning sun was just starting to bleed light into the room.

    “Listen, kid. You can’t tell anyone I was here, got it?” a black cat, who was sitting on the floor next to my child’s bed, seemed to have said.

    “Bu-but Isn’t that lying, Mr. Cat?” Austin said, clearly ignoring the cat’s wishes to be quiet. “Mom says lying is bad and that it hurts people. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

    I smiled proudly at my boy while I tried in vain to think of ways to deal with a talking cat in my son’s bedroom.

    “Don’t think of it as lying… think of it as protecting them from an uncomfortable truth.”

    “Wh-what does ‘unecomfable’ mean?”

    The cat sighed. “It means they wouldn’t want to know the truth.”

    “What does ‘pro-protecking’ mean?”

    “Don’t worry about it kid. Just don’t say anything or your family gets hurt.”

    “Ok!” my kid smiles, seemingly oblivious to the threat. “So, Mr. Cat, what brings you here t-today?”

    “Oh, I’m just here to, uh, borrow your mother’s necklace. She said it was ok.”

    At this moment I burst into the room.

    “All right, buster. I want you to get out of my son’s room, NOW, or you’re going to t-to uh, to time out!”

    “Ummm meow?”

    At that word, the cat sprinted out of the open window and back into the forest beyond.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      Well this certainly took a turn! I was somewhat disarmed by the initial setup, in that I was suprisingly unprepared for talking cats to be a thing that happen. XD

      That said, this story’s tone went very rapidly up and down in a way that felt rather appropriate for the strangeness of the scene. It starts off super relaxed, before jarring into the *horror* of realising that someone ELSE is inside the child’s bedroom – and then it becomes lighter for a bit, as the genre basically shifts into magical realism with a talking cat and a child being adorable with their responses.

      Except that then the ‘your family gets hurt’ line comes up, and the tone dives straight down into a genuinely sinister darkness, doubled by the full reveal of just how much this cat is lying and manipulating this child.

      Which then is shattered entirely once again, both by the mother very awkwardly threatening the cat with time-out, and especially the cat’s response just being ‘Ummm meow?’ XD If I had to give this story a genre, it would deffo be a dark comedy I think. I don’t think I have seen a tone quite like it in the foundry stories before. Very well done indeed! 😀

    2. WolfsbaneX Avatar
      WolfsbaneX

      Johanson, did you quote the Sonic movie trailer everyone hated? Regardless, I love the idea of something as innocuous as a domestic animal could be lying about their identity and other things. I hope you write a follow-up to this. Was this a cursed human, a shapeshifter, a cat from outer space? I want answers!

      1. Matthew (Handsome Johanson) Avatar
        Matthew (Handsome Johanson)

        what? i dont remember anything from that trailer lol. i dont think i ever saw the whole thing even

    3. Twangyflame0 Avatar
      Twangyflame0

      I really enjoyed this one. It was really funny just hearing the cat and the baby talk. I could hear the cat having this really sarcastic, arrogant tone as he tries to explain waht lying is to a child. You can hear the struggle he is making in order to not get caught and to just get this kid to shut up. I don’t know why, but a talking cat being an ass is one of the most entertaining tropes that I have seen. I very much enjoyed this piece. Very well done, Johanson.

    4. L. L. Marco Avatar
      L. L. Marco

      This is such a playful and fun interaction. The underlying threat is not lost on the reader, but its written in such a pleasant way that I feel like the child when I hear it. The cat is clearly some kind of fae or demon, but at least he’s polite and seems to know how to deal with children. I wonder what he wants with the mothers necklace? You’ve piqued my curiousity.
      Also ‘uh, meow!” is so funny lsjfslkdfjkflf

    5. This was great johanson! The weirdness of the situation had me drawn in completely. Forget the fae like interaction between the kid and talking cat (which statically never happens. fae just end up stealing the child in older stories), the way the mother handles said talking cat had me on the edge of my seat. No what the hell is going, on just pride in how much of a good parent she is. Clearly momma is hiding something. Clearly momma has had similar interactions… with the thing after her necklace.
      I loved it johanson 10/10

  7. Lunabear Avatar
    Lunabear

    For Blood and Family
    By Lunabear (Proofread by Masacur and RVMPSTILTSKIN)

    Taryn ignored the sprawling estate as she traversed the lawn. She sighed once she reached the front door. She HAD to do this.

    For Antonius.

    She pounded on the wood with the side of her fist. White lightning streaked along her shoulder blades at the movement.

    Taryn winced at the aching bullet wound but swallowed the groan.

    Show no weakness.

    The door squealed open to emit heavy rap. The scarred, one-eyed face of a man came into view.

    Taryn’s fists clenched. She gritted her teeth behind tightly closed lips. Her pulse thundered, and she could barely hold back her tears.

    “I help you?”

    Her tone gave nothing away. Her face was stone. “I need to speak with Cray.”

    “Boss man is busy right now. Plus, you might want to come back during the day, little lady. It’s much safer for you then.”

    Taryn removed a pouch of silver-laced powder from her purse. She blew a handful into his face.

    He stumbled back, yowling in pain. He scrubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands.

    She pursued him inside.

    He yelled something akin to an expletive, but the music and Taryn’s unsympathetic mindset blocked them out.

    He landed in the middle of a poker game. Blue, white, and red chips scattered amidst angry snarls.

    Cocked guns and raised weapons were aimed at Taryn. She stood her ground. She was surrounded, but she never took her gaze from the scarred man.

    The music’s volume lowered. A deep, Russian rumble skittered down her spine.

    “Lower your weapons or suffer.”

    They did as ordered.

    It was with great reluctance that Taryn moved her eyes from the man to Cray.

    Her stomach churned. Her knees nearly buckled.

    “They’re going to execute my son. He’s become feral and is too dangerous to control. P-please.”

    “Under MY conditions.” Flat and uncompromising.

    Taryn bowed. Fast tears scorched her cheeks. “Yes.” The word sliced her tongue on the way out.

    “Dendrake, YOU bit the boy. You will assist.”

    A resigned growl. Chips plinking to the floor. Heavy shuffling.

    At Taryn’s side, the scarred man bowed to Cray.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      This story pulls at a lot of emotional strings for sure. Taryn is far from weak in her presentation here, but she’s also at breaking point – emotionally if not also physically. Certainly, stepping into a Vampire’s lair with a retinue of – I thought werewolves at first, but maybe just more vampires? – in any case, a very dangerous act to pull.

      I could tell too just how much she wanted to hurt Dendrake upon seeing him too – at first I wasn’t exactly sure what the emotion was, but on the second reading with full context I understood the reaction perfectly. And she did get to blow silver in his face, at least.

      Out of interest – is Taryn even supernatural in any way? The bullet wound would perhaps suggest so, but mundane humans can survive bullets too of course. It certainly makes both her strength and desperation even more potent, if she would go to such lengths despite having only her mortal limits to defend herself with.

      Great story Luna, and very well done indeed for getting one done this week! <3

    2. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
      ThatWeirdFish

      Ah, a good ol’ werewolf story. I quite enjoyed the mobster spin you put on it. (Or at least that’s what I felt it was, I could be wrong.) Taryn seems to know her way about them, hence the silver powder and how she addresses Cray. I like how you let us into her mind to feel the desperation she was feeling. Well done, Luna!

  8. The Traveler
    by Kofee (hellokofee)

    The traveler’s gift was a curse.

    After escaping servitude, he swore to never use it again.

    But when the traveler met a small child in the woods, sobbing over the corpses of her family, butchered by bandits, he wavered.

    A scene similar to one from his own childhood plagued the traveler.

    Resolved to his choice, he embraced the girl.

    He swore to give this child a gift that he could never give himself.

    The traveler touched her mind.

    As he severed the links of recent memory and sealed them away, the child lost consciousness.

    No. This never happened before.

    Meddling with the mind often harmed the meddler, rarely the meddled.

    The traveler stood with the sleeping girl in his arms and left the grisly scene in search of the main road. A sanctuary could help. A sanctuary could undo his mistake.

    But as night fell upon the forest, with his destination still miles away, he fell to his knees in despair and wept, thinking: what have I done?

    What good was his gift? His curse? If he couldn’t help one person?

    “Papa?”

    As if responding to his despair, the girl woke up.

    “Where’s Papa?” She asked again and yawned. “Where’s Mama?”

    Immense relief filled the traveler. The gods had been kind.

    But had his meddling worked?

    “Your… your Mama and Papa are looking for you, little one.” He said. “You got lost in the woods. But… I found you. Remember?”

    The girl bit her bottom lip, seemingly unsure. For a moment, he thought she remembered the truth.

    Then her stomach growled. “Hungry,” she whined. “I want Mama.”

    The traveler helped the girl onto her feet. “Let’s get you some supper.” And took her hand.

    He was ashamed that he lied and that there were more lies to come until they found a sanctuary.

    The traveler would rather every word be a lie than touch the girl’s mind ever again.

    1. Lari B. Haven Avatar
      Lari B. Haven

      It’s a really interesting story. I liked the way the curse was explained. Traveler’s has a quite mysterious background and seems to be quite guilty about it. I also like how this hints at a future relationship between the child and the traveler. It really feels like the beginning of an anime. I really dig stories with a protector/ child dynamic.

      Great story, keep going!

    2. MasaCur Avatar
      MasaCur

      This was pretty interesting. I’m both interested and horrified by the Traveler’s ability to affect another’s memory. I get that he did this to spare the child some pain, but it still feels unsettling.
      I like the way this feels like it sets up more stories. I can imagine that the two go off on further adventures, with the Traveler as the child’s new guardian, trying to keep the truth from her. Good take on the prompt, using the lie as a mercy. This was fairly well done, Kofee.

    3. WolfsbaneX Avatar
      WolfsbaneX

      I like the premise of your story. The traveller with psychic abilities is a very well-defined character. He seems deeply conflicted. If I had some constructive criticism, it would be that this story feels bare bones. We get the action and the conflict, but the beginning is rushed. I’d rather you had started with “The traveller stood with a sleeping girl in his arms…” and developed the story from there. But I enjoy the mystery of this piece and want to read more.

  9. Glaceon373 Avatar
    Glaceon373

    Child’s Play
    by Carrie (Glaceon373)

    “No! No! Don’t get me! Don’t get me!”

    The monster snarled, never giving up chase.

    Avir ran as fast as their legs could carry them, gasping for air. Behind them, the monster charged, arms outstretched, its menacing face the fuel of nightmares.

    Hidden by the tall grass of the clearing, a root tripped Avir, who fell onto the soft dirt. “No! Don’t get me! Don’t get me!” they cried, turning to face their doom.

    The monster reached out a hand…and gently tapped Avir’s nose.

    “Haha! Tag! You’re it!”

    “That’s unfair, Tris!” Avir huffed. “You always target me! Chase the others for a change!”

    Tris laughed as their face shifted into that of a child, with bright eyes and tangled hair. “I still got you! You’re it! You’re the monster!”

    Avir pouted, but followed the rules of the game, changing their face to match Tris’s previous one.

    The game of “monster tag,” as the children called it, continued under the watchful eyes of their designated supervisors, Dione and Wyz.

    “Look at ‘em go,” Dione leaned against a sturdy tree trunk.

    “Yeah.” Wyz ran a hand through their messy hair.

    “They’re getting good at faces.”

    “That they are.”

    Dione sighed. “It’s kinda sad, y’know?”

    “Hm?”

    “Just…they’re still kids. And they’re already learning to mimic faces.”

    “Yeah. Proper training, if you ask me.”

    “I know, but…what happens when they meet humans? It’ll probably be hard for them to adjust.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Humans like consistency. And these kids, well…” Dione and Wyz watched the children shift between humanoid and monster and humanoid again, with almost no effort. “I just think humans… aren’t gonna treat ‘em right.”

    “Humans have never treated us right,” Wyz scoffed. “Changelings like us are creatures of lying and deception in their eyes, and nothing else. Don’t act like it was any different for us growin’ up then what these kids are gonna live through.”

    Dione sighed. “If you say so.”

    1. I really love stories that show another creature’s perspective like this. Especially with something so innocent as a game of tag. It’s also really heartbreaking to hear the adults talk about how difficult it’ll be for these children when they grow up because of what they are. I’d love to read more! Nice job.

    2. A harmless game of tag with a sinister twist, added not by the monster child playing but the adult considering it “training”. This was an amazingly cute piece Carrie, from the children playing to Dione’s concern and Wyz’ fear of humanity. You can feel the love both these adults have for these young changelings, its truly heart warming. That neither of them can see a happy future for the kids is incredibly sad though.

      9.91/10 I want a happy future for the young FaceDancers

  10. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
    i-prefer-the-term-antihero

    [Removed]

    1. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      This is a really take on thespian masks as a setting piece! It brings a few things to mind: Two-Face (DC Comics); The Masquerade quartet by Seth Dickinson; and a tale I heard a long time ago about an ugly young prince who wore a comely mask so tight, his face grew into its form, like a cubic watermelon.

      The sequence of discovery, admittance to wrongdoing, was some of your most poignant writing yet. Granted, I’m a sucker for sincerity in the face of social taboo, but the character here is incredibly human and relatable.

      “ I brought my hand to the exposed piece and that frown became a smile—it actually changed—and for once it was real.” Deergodsbelow this line killed it!

      Well done, Anti!

    2. Lari B. Haven Avatar
      Lari B. Haven

      The atmosphere of this piece it’s really something else!
      I love the ideia of feelings actually being hidden by true mask. And the concept of asking to manufacture one it’s even more special to me.
      I love those kinds of stories. Yours it’s short, but really effective.
      Keep going Anti Hero

    3. “I’d grown up.”

      This line brought up a lot of emotions for me, especially in the context of this story. It’s such an interesting tale of accepting yourself, in and out.

      This was very enjoyable to read, thank you for sharing!

    4. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      This is a really freaky little world you have described here. On the face value (lol) of it all, it’s already unsettling – I can’t tell if the kids here are born without skin on their face, or is it just that ‘natural’ faces are considered too real and imperfect in this society? It’s a rather awful thing, to force children into doing that to themselves through social pressure and expectation. I am suprised it took over a hundred years for anyone to break their mask in such a way.

      There’s also the more subtle horrors of implication here too – such as what may have happened when they made the faces too young, and the consequences that resulted from that. How many others suffer just like the main character did – the facesmith in the first part can’t express anything but in a smile, after all. And how the heck did their society decide this was a good thing at all?

      In any case, a very intriguing story this week Antohero. Good work! 😀

  11. DesOttsel Avatar
    DesOttsel

    A Plea
    by Gage Jarman

    Blue saturated the warm summer sky. Shadows swirled outside the monastery around a young girl. She took a deep breath and focused, letting the pool of emotions flow freely from her. The inky spiral expanded, delving down into graves in smoky streams. Outlines of faces rose to the surface of the spiraling black cloud. The girl wretched the dark from its slumber until the expanding mass collided with the golden barrier of the consecrated ground.

    Lightning erupted from the discordant energy. Tombstones shattered. The shadows shrunk back from the tempest; a dome of crackling divine energy confined the black fog.

    The girl pushed back, but she was losing control. The faces engulfed the small girl, diving into her, a shoal of scared minnows, a maelstrom of voices passing through her like frigid gales.


    Died
    We died
    Slain
    Sacrificed
    Used
    Lied
    We were lied to
    The Dark whispered
    False emotions
    Manipulated
    Selfish
    Deceitful
    The Light lied
    Many masks
    Self righteous
    Misguided
    Arrogant
    No salvation
    No balance
    No unity
    A blight
    Lie
    They lie
    This world
    They lie
    Fools
    Zealots
    Death
    Delusions
    Entropy
    We can survive
    We can guide
    Salvation
    Relax child
    Rest
    Succumb

    The girl felt her soul severing. The tether grew thin. She saw her body bathed in faces. Pained visages washed over her like rapids over stones, surfacing, shifting, surrounding. The allure of the dark was so peaceful, so quiet. She wanted rest. She didn’t want to feel.

    A ray of light pierced the dome of darkness and lightning. The cloud of faces dissolved into the earth. The girl felt the pain returning.

    “Kiera, what did you do! The shadow arts are forbidden, and to do them in the cemetery of the fallen war.” A portly woman stood over her.

    “I’m sorry… I’m, I wanted—”

    “It is Forbidden!” She enunciated. “By the light, we gave concessions because of your father and yet….”

    “But that’s why I did it! I need to be strong. I need answers, and, and, and I’m so lost.”

    The woman sighed at the weeping girl. “Come, let us make sure all’s well.”

    1. Lari B. Haven Avatar
      Lari B. Haven

      The vibe in this one it’s truly unique. Especially the format break to give space to the dissonant voices of the fallen.
      Really loved it.
      Also the “forbidden arts” seem to have a strange allure, one that can be quite deadly for the girl.
      It hints at a great mystery that I can see unfolding in the future.
      Great story Des!

    2. jesse fisher Avatar
      jesse fisher

      I got a “Night on Bald Mountain” feel from the whole piece. From the dark shadows and dead, to the light coming in to quell the dark. Also this ‘shadow arts’ seems more death then shadow. Then again I’m not versed in the magic system.

      All in all would love to see this expanded into a longer story.

  12. ThatWeirdFish Avatar
    ThatWeirdFish

    The Masquerade
    By ThatWeirdFish

    The grand hall was aglow with shining lamps and smiling faces. Gowns sparkled with light as they swirled in the dance. Laughter and excited small talk filled the air, like the bouquet of perfumes coming from the ladies attending the gala. It was all perfect.

    Mia took a sip of the bitter punch, her frown hidden behind the wide rim of her glass.

    “The Duke is so handsome!” A lady in yellow swooned over him.

    “I wish he would choose me,” sighed another.

    “Don’t we all!” Said the yellow-clad one. Her comment met with laughter from the surrounding crowd.

    Mia chuckled nervously behind another sip. She pushed down the fear gnawing inside her as the crowd began to reverently part at the Duke’s approach. He was indeed handsome, his pale skin seeming to glow against the dark blue velvet of his suit. “My lady,” He offered a black-gloved hand toward her, “would you honor me with this dance?”

    Mia froze for a heartbeat. She knew his secret. Behind that gentile smile and charming eyes lay something. Something dangerous.

    “Of course, your grace.” With practiced elegance, Mia set down her glass and took his hand. Her spine shivered at his touch. It was so cold.

    They smiled at each other cordially as they danced. The Duke’s eyes studied Mia’s cooly, seeming to peer into her very soul. “We all have our shadows.” He said as they spun in the circle. “However, just the right light can reveal them.” Her heart quickened as he leaned in closer. “But you know that, don’t you?” His soft growl in her ear raised the hair on the back of her neck.

    “Of course,” Mia’s laughter thinly veiled the tremor in her voice as she feigned ignorance. What did he mean? Did he know what she saw that night?

    With the last step of the dance, he called the crowd’s attention. “I have made my choice. The fine Lady of Erinvale shall be my bride.”

    Mia’s mind spun as she automatically accepted the good wishes. She knew her fate—the fate of those who lie to him.

    1. Lari B. Haven Avatar
      Lari B. Haven

      Oh! So much drama! This Duke smells like a vampire waiting to be slain. I love masquered scenarios, always so full of potential for gossips, twists, and dramatic revelations.
      Poor Mia, she seem to have seem something so horrible that now is afraid of falling on the Duke’s arms. And if my theory it’s correct, she has all the right to be.
      Loved it That Weird Fish!

    2. You really put us in Mia’s shoes with this one. I felt her anxiety and fear over the approaching Duke. And then his words! Very chilling.

      This is so great! I want to read what happens next! Great work.

    3. jesse fisher Avatar
      jesse fisher

      Oh this type of story is always fun. A person with no power in the society and then they get picked by one in power. I also like you have the whole nobles are just wearing masks and someone can see beyond it.

      Also the tension build up was so great and the fact both knew the other knew now makes it a game of which one cracks or how they play it out.

  13. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
    RVMPLSTLTSKN

    When the Wanderer saw Nobody on the Road
    By RVMPLSTLTSKN (from the Saga of The Deep One’s Wake)

    There are an infinite number of ways in which words can sting. Some are like wasps, smooth and quick. Others bleed and cut, mangle. A very few are like rays: slow, hidden and barbed slightly.

    Within the latter were the words the old woman spoke to Klajonas: “I am niekas.”

    The tugging of these words brought memories of her sister and father and Vienas. Klajonas suspected—though not consciously—that the words meant more than just a name, that something was missing. Her sister would know, but Klajonas pursued other knowledge.

    The old woman was smiling. “It’s been so long since I saw anyone else. Welcome to my Home.”

    Home was inconceivable, a mere storage shed to the temple Klajonas had grown in. It was, she learned, a dirt hovel. One of the little houses where Man did not live. These were places of mushrooms, guineas and dogs, of rats and songbirds and danger of burying.

    The old woman led her inside this cramped, messy abode and asked for two things: a story and her name.

    “I am Klajonas.”

    “The Wanderer walks again,” niekas cackled. “And who is your Love?”

    “I haven’t found her yet.” It was a joke, but Klajonas—whose whole world was four other people and only one man—did not yet understand her words fully.

    niekas made a noise, sombering. “You aren’t old enough to be a Witness. Are there more?”

    “Yes.”

    “Are there gods?”

    Klajonas—who grew up in the cemetery of gods and knew their images and works—thought for a moment. Someone, she thought, must have created the Everflame, Karas’s Sword, or the Pearls her father hoarded for Vienas.

    “Yes,” she said, “I believe there are, somewhere.”

    niekas stared at her a long time. “We should go and find them. Only the strong deserve worship.”

    Klajonas smiled, sensing a new story at last. One where she might live forever. “We should eat first. I have herbs and mushrooms.”

    “I have birds and I know the land.”

    “The gods are not east.”

    “And they aren’t here. Which way shall we go?” niekas was smiling.

    Klajonas—remembering the Wanderer’s tale—smiled back. “South.”

    1. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      Very interesting!! When I saw Klajonas’ name come up I thought I might be in for some gut-wrenching stuff, but in the end I got something very intriguing, and a little confusing (but not in a bad way)!

      I was really expecting you to reveal that niekas was a Sleeper in the end, and I guess maybe she could be, but I was surprised to find it ended on an upbeat note. So in the end I’m really wondering who the liar was, though I’m pretty sure it was supposed to be niekas.

      “There are an infinite number of ways in which words can sting. Some are like wasps, smooth and quick. Others bleed and cut, mangle. A very few are like rays: slow, hidden and barbed slightly.
      Within the latter were the words the old woman spoke to Klajonas: “I am niekas.”
      The tugging of these words brought memories of her sister and father and Vienas. Klajonas suspected—though not consciously—that the words meant more than just a name, that something was missing. Her sister would know, but Klajonas pursued other knowledge.”–YES GIVE ME THAT TASTY POETIC LANGUAGE

      “Home was inconceivable, a mere storage shed to the temple Klajonas had grown in. It was, she learned, a dirt hovel. One of the little houses where Man did not live. These were places of mushrooms, guineas and dogs, of rats and songbirds and danger of burying.”–That first sentence is so vivid. This description definitely increases my suspicion that she’s a Sleeper. Curious as to why she considers songbirds as a low, dirty creature.

      “The Wanderer walks again,” niekas cackled. “And who is your Love?”–I like this. I’m also curious if that cackle was supposed to be creepy/evil.
      “I haven’t found her yet.” It was a joke, but Klajonas—whose whole world was four other people and only one man—did not yet understand her words fully.”–Interesting interesting!! Also prettily phrased.

      “You aren’t old enough to be a Witness.”–Very curious as to what this means.

      “Klajonas—who grew up in the cemetery of gods and knew their images and works—thought for a moment. Someone, she thought, must have created the Everflame, Karas’s Sword, or the Pearls her father hoarded for Vienas.
      “Yes,” she said, “I believe there are, somewhere.”
      –Beautiful.

      I like that it ended upbeat and hopeful, but I’m also terrified that this prompt ended upbeat and hopeful XD

      I’m guessing from the title, and Klajonas reacting like the name meant something that “niekas” means “nobody”? And the fact that you don’t capitalize it the whole way through makes me think the idea holds ground too.
      I wonder what that means if so. She’s not real? You didn’t give much indication she was a figment or a dream. The theory that she’s a sleeper is the one I’m most attached to but I really have no idea what the sleepers look and act like so I can’t be certain.
      I feel like the answer to this story lies in the fact that you didnt capitalize niekas. I’m also curious as to why you capitalized Home and Witness as well.

      I want to read more of what happens between them!!

    2. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      I was quite suprised by how sorta hopeful and positive this story ended up being by the end – at the start I hadn’t expected that at all, with the subtle barbs of the old woman’s speech. I was a bit worried too when she invited Klajonas into such a dirty and messy abode – I suppose mainly out of suprise that she chose such a place to live, rather than the presumably better quality-on-average ruins all around. But I suppose if niekas had lived in dirt hovels all her life, it would have a familiarity and comfort to her that hollow, dead ruins may not.

      Their dialogue was really compelling to read too. It’s a little culture clash in a way, the first meeting of the new world and the old beyond the limits of a single family. Having them (seem to?) bond over the cultural remains they both share, and being able to decide on a shared goal and direction as a result – I suppose that in itself already shows the importance of the gods. Without their memory, these two are strangers, isolated in their own incompatible bubbles from each other. But with the gods, there is unity and purpose between them both. One that might lead to good things, if they are successful to a decent degree.

      Good work Rvmple! 🙂

  14. I’d much rather write a story.

    By Green

    The potbellied clinic assistant shuffled on his pedestal, using a rag to hide his nudity.

    “how much longer do I have to sit here?” he said staring down at the greying head of the artist he had become muse for. An old man brushing at his canvas, paint splattering his pink hospital gown. The tag around his wrist reading “CATHERINE SCRIBBLE”.

    “Come on my back is killing me. Are we almost done?” said the assistant.

    “not yet” croaked Catherine in reply. “and stop moving or you’ll ruin another one” pointing to a pile of portraits. He mixed up a blotch of red to match his subjects face.

    The door to the room slid open and shut as two women entered the room.

    “Hi mommy!” said Catherine one of the women replying with a smile and a wave.

    “The change occurred earlier today during recess. The school did the right thing getting her here before calling you” the doctor said. Pulling a pen from her lab coat she walked her companion towards the discarded canvases.

    “Did she go through much pain?” Mrs. scribble asked her hand on the sixty-year old’s shoulder.

    “Thankfully, the paramedics were able to sedate her. She slept through most of the metamorphosis” the doctor grinned. “We’ve run some tests and so far, things are looking great. Oh, and these are something special was she an artist before?” She said picking up a portrait from the pile.

    “Only hand prints in preschool. She was mostly a writer” Mrs. Scribble replied.

    “Fantastic, the person she copied must have been trained. I can see elements of Van Gogh and Monet. It’ll be amazing when she can use all his Muscle memory”

    “I’d much rather write a story” muttered Catherine on her stool.

    Mrs. Scribble knowing that her baby Catherine had changed for good. that soon she wouldn’t want to write and that she had already forgotten how, embraced the old man and lied.

    “Sure honey, when we get home you can write me a huge book.”

    1. Glaceon373 Avatar
      Glaceon373

      This is quite the surrealist take on the prompt, Green. Although, I have to admit, I’m not sure what is going on here. Who exactly is Catherine, the old man? What was the metamorphosis the doctors talked about? Did this mother transform Catherine into an old man who liked art instead of a preschool girl who liked to draw? What is the assistant’s role in the story? Still, if you were going for confusion, you definitely achieved that, but you might have gone a little bit overboard. Still a very interesting read, though. Nice job!

  15. Iceburgh69 Avatar
    Iceburgh69

    Invisible liars
    By: Iceburgh69

    Weak! Pathetic! Worthless! Incompotent! Good for nothing but taking up space! Those papers in your hand? They will be discarded. Lost amongst that of your betters! People more able! Smarter than you!

    That feeling in the pit of your stomach? They can see it, you know! They can all see your worthlessness written on your skin! They will pity you and mock you! The ones who speak honeyed words don’t really care! They only want something from you! You will never make a mark on their world! Why do you continue to exist?

    They flit in and out of your life like a zephyr! None of them will last with a lump like you! Their smiles no more real than a dream! Oh, they like you at first, you faker! But when they learn of the real you, the cesspool that you truly are? They recoil in revulsion, and leave you adrift again. You remember! Every friend you’ve had are gone now. Even your family only stays around because of some misguided sense of duty to their flesh and blood.

    How bold of you to simply walk in as if you belong here. Look at that on the wall! Isn’t it shiny? Isn’t it pretty? Let’s just take a quick peek at it! Only for a second!

    Trevor blinks, banishing the demons in his mind trying to distract him and bring him down as he hands the application and resume to the cashier. They smile at each other politely as he turns to leave.

    1. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      Good to see Trevor again. It’s been a while and good depictions of schizophrenia are hard to come by. Thank you!

      1. Iceburgh69 Avatar
        Iceburgh69

        This is my first time writing about him, and it was supposed to represent more depression, anxiety, and ADHD, though it’s pretty difficult to represent them in writing without it coming across like schizophrenia…

    2. Glaceon373 Avatar
      Glaceon373

      I can really feel the emotions here, Iceburgh. Anxiety sucks, and can also be very difficult to put into words, but the inner demons comparison you used here was very effective. The only bit of criticism I have for this is that you have nearly 100 unused words that could have added more impact to your ending. Other than that, though, this is a very impactful piece. Great job!

  16. WolfsbaneX Avatar
    WolfsbaneX

    “Growing Pains”
    By Hemming Sebastian Bane

    Thalyss sighed, breathing out and assuming the old woman form for the last time. It seems like yesterday she’d just gotten used to it. Now the lindwyrm was 99 years old. A long time for humans, but nothing to dragonkind. She remembered what her mother always told her: “for each ten years a human lives, a dragon lives but one”. That’s why today scared her.

    Everything was set. Thalyss’s father worked out a bunch of actors to come and take her to the hospital. There her mien, Mrs. Rudith Mavorich, would die of a heart attack. She’d swap out with a cadaver they’d prepared. They’d lay low in a safehouse for a day and as a family, she, her brother, her mother and her father would develop new identities.

    Thalyss put on the frumpy muumuu that was her guise’s nightgown and took many deep breaths. Her mother, disguised as a younger woman in silk pajamas, poked her head in.

    “Thalyss, you about ready?”

    The lindwyrm nodded. “Momma, why do we have to do this?”

    Thalyss’s mother sighed, walked over and rubbed her back.

    “It’s the only way to make sure everyone in our family is safe.”

    Thalyss kissed her mother on the cheek. “I’ll put on my best performance yet.” The age of Mrs. Mavorich crept into her voice.

    The mien of the younger woman furrowed her brow before going back to a smile. “Besides, you’ll be able to make a new identity closer to your maturity level. No more required bingo hall nights. No more afternoon tea with stuffy women you don’t like, but pretend to like because it benefits you.”

    “No more fake doctor visits?”

    “No more fake doctor visits.”

    Thalyss smiled. “I get to play again?”

    Her mother nodded and laughed. The visage of Mrs. Mavorich jumping up and down excitedly like a child at an all-you-can-eat ice cream bar was ridiculous. But soon Thalyss would be the little girl that she knew.

    Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. A man that looked vaguely like Mrs. Mavorich poked his head in.

    “You ready, Thalyss?”

    1. Connor/Dragoneye Avatar
      Connor/Dragoneye

      Oh yeah, Drakenheim! At least I think that’s what it is. Regardless, I approve of the dragon family. This story is such a nice twist on the prompt! This dragon family wants to keep themselves concealed from the rest of the world, and planning on making a daring disappearance. The strength of this piece is the dialogue and the family dynamic, which I can immediately get a sense of how they interact with each other.

      One issue I find is the line “for each ten years a dragon lives, a human lives but one”. That implies that a dragon lives shorter than humans, and the rest of the piece notes that the inverse is true. Other than that, a nice little piece with fun dialogue and a dragon family!

      1. WolfsbaneX Avatar
        WolfsbaneX

        Thanks for catching that!

    2. MasaCur Avatar
      MasaCur

      Aww, this was cute. I never think about dragon children being…well, children, and it’s a very wholesome outlook. I especially liked the imagery of Thalyss jumping up an down in excitement and glee while wearing the form of an elderly woman; it really sold the emotions that she was going through.
      I have, however, though about what it would be like to be a member of a fantasy species with a much longer lifespan than humans trying to disguise themselves as one for years, even decades in a community. This scenario seemed reasonably well thought out, and I liked the execution. Nice one, Wolfsbane.

  17. IsaDragon Avatar
    IsaDragon

    Discovery (Well-House Verse)
    By IsaDragon337

    He ducked in the low doorway. The wind outside still roared, but quieter now. The light from a tiny window sparkled off bronze hanging tags, and illuminated… a man?

    No, not a man. A statue of a humanlike figure, with a mask of pitted porcelain and corroded metal. It had no eyes, nor other features, but the metal dripped thick smears of corrosion. If the scavenger squinted, they were tears.

    Behind it loomed a hydra made of cords and cables.

    The mess of serpents sprawled into the room, tucked away in corners and slithering into holes; some were wrapped in thick scaled webbing, like starship cables, others were clear and dusted with sand. A few had coagulated colored material in them, and several appeared to be full of marbles. The cables attached to the back of the statue, leaving the front as a facsimile of human form. One foot had been broken off, exposing tiny gold gears inside. He stepped closer, to see the value-

    With a squeal, the shell’s chest moved.

    The scavenger backed up till he felt the wind. Marbles clicked through the tubes and a yellowed bulb tried to flicker on.

    “Gr–r–r-eeea…tings.” The machine creaked. The voice came from the statue, and it’s arms moved, curling from rest to attention to sign “hello”, releasing sand from old dry joints.

    It did not seem bothered by the screechy noises of unoiled metal, and truth be told the scavenger wasn’t either. The wind was too loud.

    The mess of cables behind it had enough give that the… automaton could move. The legs appeared to be no longer functional, or perhaps it was attached directly to the floor.

    “A–re you he-re to… learn?” It re-folded its hands atop threadbare fabric that had once been ornate. A marble thunked down its tube. The wind wailed.

    The scavenger abruptly realized that he wasn’t looking at a droid. This was the interface, a massive machine pouring itself into this hollow shell to interact with him.

    …the wind was too strong to explore the ruins for now, the scavenger could wait for awhile.

    1. Iceburgh69 Avatar
      Iceburgh69

      I love the callback to the last prompt, or at least it feels like it!

  18. Lari B. Haven Avatar
    Lari B. Haven

    Dancing on passionate illusions
    By Larissa (Lari B. Haven)

    The live band played high-tempo jazz, and the dancers sailed gracefully on the stage.

    Between all the smoke and champagne, she could see some whispering in each other’s ears and exchanging looks. Some seemed to be directed at her. She danced and scanned the place, even took a sip of a few drinks.

    Under the fox mask, Haven was anonymous. If they knew she met Mr. Rabbit, the guests would be in disarray, asking what she knew about the handsome demon with the bunny mask.

    Mr. Jack Rabbit looked like a sculpture, suited up in light bluish grey with brown leather gloves. The white mask that covered his whole face complimented his silvery blond hair. And the pointy Rabbit ears protrude from the top of his head with his deer-like horns.

    An invisible force pulled her. It was him, abusing his magic again.

    A spotlight shines on both of them, and people open space to look at him. He takes her hand and with an unusual joyful voice announces: “Ladies, gentlemen, and creatures from beyond. I present to you, Miss Fox!”

    He flicked his fingers, and the song slowed down. Both took a dance stance, as it was clear what he was about to do.

    “Care to explain?” She rolled her eyes while she let him conduct her.

    He turns her around just to reach her ear. “Business, dear Haven.” If she could see his face through the mask, she would see Jack malicious wink as he dropped her to his feet in a passionate move. “Right now, I’m selling them the dream of you.”

    The business of the elusive demon was simple: make them desire, make them pay, make them dream. And when all ended, they would return to the cabaret to be sold on another illusion.

    By turning her into the center of all attention, he was controlling the cravings of the crowd. He needed to make them gossip and make them wonder. After all, they wanted to be Haven at this moment, forever tied in the arms of that masked devil.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      I like how this story is structured like the ball itself is to an extent – while the spotlight and perspective is currently focused on Haven, the real controller of events that the story revolves around is Mr Jack Rabbit. It’s actually hard to tell – I know she was pulled towards him initially with his magic, but was the rest of her actions of her own free will, or was she being puppeted by him the entire time? I wasn’t sure, and it deffo gave the whole story a very creepy vibe.

      The puppet imagery is enhanced by the final line too – “forever tied in the arms of that masked devil.” I wonder how much of that is just assuming the audiance’s imagination, and how much of that is literally true for her? If she is truly bound to him supposedly forever, I can only hope she can find a way to break those bonds.

      Good story Lari! 🙂

    2. Connor/Dragoneye Avatar
      Connor/Dragoneye

      What a fun piece this is! That jazzy, early 20th century bar feel has always struck a chord with me for some reason, and this is no different! Jack Rabbit seems like the sleazy con-artist archetype with a nice cabaret flair to him, and this story sells him as a prime villain in my eyes. Haven, I’m not completely sure how she fits into this, but she’s clearly got some resentment towards Jack. That final line cements the entire story and what this place is for, and that just makes me more interested in these demons and their gambits. Love this piece, I want more from it in the future! Awesome job, Lari!

    3. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      This is a very atmospheric piece. It brings a sense of foreignness to it (granted jazz clubs aren’t wildly popular in my corner of the world) but also a sense of otherworldly or fantastical touches. At first I thought this was general fiction, a story modeled to reality, and the prose fit that assumption.

      Having finished this taloid, I’m no longer certain. And I’m very OK with the uncertainty.

      A couple notes:
      • Your prose is improving so fast! You should take pride in that!
      • I think Haven should be namedropped earlier in the tale. You refer to her as “she” in the second sentence (Paragraph 2, line 1) and swap is easy enough. It gives the reader a little more info and doesn’t cause a stumble.

      Good work Lari!

  19. Connor/Dragoneye Avatar
    Connor/Dragoneye

    “Whispering Ink”
    By Connor/Dragoneye

    “Shomar, you’ve done me proud.”

    The Ash Lord leaned back in his chair, a false smile on his concealed face. “Well, I do like to think that my services are adequate.”

    “Of course. Now, I’ll need that message sent out as quickly as possible. Leuveir is sailing his Legion down towards Viziel,” said Raesh.

    Shomar nodded, and from the large bowl beside his seat bubbled swirling pillars of ink. “I am already composing it as we speak.”

    Raesh looked over and smiled, before standing up. “Good to know. Thank you, Shomar.”

    “I promise you that Leuveir will know every little detail.”

    “Goodbye, Shomar.”

    As Raesh left the room, Shomar finally exhaled through gritted teeth. He hated Raesh, mainly because he always assumed that his approval was validating for everyone. The arrogant mortal sod of a prick. He was unsure how much longer he could take sending messages from such swine.

    A knock on his door snapped Shomar out of his stewing hate, and setting his eyes on the source of that knock melted whatever spite simmering in his mind.

    There stood Vana, with a tome in hand and a quill in the other. “Hey, Shomar.”

    The Ash Lord leapt from his seat and rushed over to Vana, each step with a spring in it. He then swept her off of her feet and into his arms.

    “Hey, not right now. The door’s open, somebody’s gonna see us.”

    “Will they, now?” With an invisible force, the door slammed shut.

    Vana gave him a concerned, yet loving look. “You’ve got to be more careful about this. This isn’t a game. They could banish or kill us for this.”

    Shomar sighed, “I know. But I can’t hold this back. I can’t keep hiding our love.”

    “Well, what are you going to do about it? It’s not like we can just leave Threllem.”

    He paused and thought, long and deeply. If worse came to worst, maybe that was it. Maybe that was the answer.

    1. Calliope Rannis Avatar
      Calliope Rannis

      Firstly, I don’t know how much you intended this, but I really, really liked the subtlety of “a false smile on his concealed face” as a description. Because you’d think that he wouldn’t need to smile at all if his face is concealed, right? But that’s not how lying works – if you really want to sell a deception, to present the body language of someone happy when you aren’t, you have to smile, even if nobody is seeing it, because it may change subtle other details in the eyes and body that make the deception harder to see through. Again, I dunno if you thought this hard about it, but it’s a really clever line if you did!

      A slight improvement to suggest: “Shomar finally let his boiling resentment loose” – how? Does his expression change, does his body pose shift, does he crush something in his fist or growl under his breath? I feel like this line would have been more effective if you had shown us how he releases his anger in some way, rather than just telling us he was holding back resentment.

      Overall, this story was very intriguing. You know from the start that the Ash Lord is lying about something to Raesh about *something*, and then we get not one but two reveals about his secrets. One about his built up anger and rage towards his lord, and one rather sweeter and more wholesome secret about his passionate love for Vana. He’s a delightfully complex character from this story already, and I would be happy to see more of him. Great story Dragoneye! 🙂

  20. Calliope Rannis Avatar
    Calliope Rannis

    Relighting The Flame (Nyssa’s Story)
    By Calliope Rannis

    “O-oh. Professor Littlestar! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

    Nyssa smiled awkwardly. “Yes, I suppose it has. Sorry I never kept in touch,” she said, pulling herself up into the chair opposite Emil Carston, Materials Procurer for the University. “I have a request.”

    A pause. Then Emil nodded slightly. “Sure. What exactly do you require?”

    Calm. Practical. Professional. Traits unusual for him. She remembered how her requests used to make him smile so brightly, nodding rapidly as he would grant her whatever exotic materials she needed.

    “It’s very specific. A temporary loan of a Holy Blade from the High Temple of Kord?”

    He had always been so eager to impress her. So very smitten with her.

    “Uhhhh, Professor – you know temples like that keep their artefacts very secure. The amount of paperwork and persuasion this would require is…quite unreasonable.”

    She had always politely rejected his advances. Nyssa valued his work a lot, but had never wanted to be more than professional with him.

    “Well, I need this for my new project, it really can’t proceed without it.”

    It had been four years. Maybe Emil had finally let her go. Moved on to someone more obtainable.

    “I’m sorry Professor, but I really can’t sign off on-!” His words caught in his throat, as Nyssa reached out and touched his hand.

    No. He had not.

    Nyssa leaned forwards, clasping his hand with both of her own. “Please…I-I’ve been in a rut for years. I need, NEED this artefact to get a fresh start, to make breakthroughs again. And I missed you, Emil. I just want things to be like they used to be, again.” She squeezed his hand.

    She watched as her carefully-placed words collapsed his composure in seconds. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes dilated, and his head nodded rapidly as he said “Oh, well if it’s this important for you, then I’m sure I can find a way! I always love to help! Especially you, and your brilliant work!”

    Nyssa just smiled, as wide as she could. “Thank you, Emil.”

    Good. His passion was exactly what she needed.

    1. Connor/Dragoneye Avatar
      Connor/Dragoneye

      I dunno how I feel about Nyssa coercing Emil to do her bidding. It’s a bit too opportunistic for me, but Nyssa’s internal confliction about wanting a more intimate relationship with Emil makes me think that she’s more sympathetic. Still, that kind of manipulation isn’t great. I really like this interaction, regardless of its morality, the dialogue is natural, and you get an easy sense of what’s going on inferred from their conversation. Also, Kord, you say, as in the Stormlord? Love it. Awesome job, Calliope!

    2. i-prefer-the-term-antihero Avatar
      i-prefer-the-term-antihero

      OOOOH!! Having her being the one who’s lying, vs someone lying to her is a very interesting dynamic. Makes for an intriguing read.

      Also I’m really glad that you answered where she got Kord’s sword from. It’s a question I’ve been asking ever since I first started reading Nysa’s story and I like the answer. Kinda thought Kord only had one sword and that she stole it and broke it though…but this explanation definitely makes more sense.

      Once again you a great job of flashing between well…it’s not exactly between present and past, but sort of? I like the way you structured it with the action happening and then her recalling his crush on her in the past. It makes for cool pacing and adds a lot to the intrigue of the scene.

      This was my favorite part:
      “It had been four years. Maybe Emil had finally let her go. Moved on to someone more obtainable.
      “I’m sorry Professor, but I really can’t sign off on-!” His words caught in his throat, as Nyssa reached out and touched his hand.
      No. He had not.”
      –When she touches his hand, you really capture that feeling of everything stopping and shifting within the flow of the story itself. Especially since you set up the suspense of him seemingly having moved on from her, it was stark. Very well done.

      “She watched as her carefully-placed words collapsed his composure in seconds. His cheeks flushed red, his eyes dilated, and his head nodded rapidly as he said “Oh, well if it’s this important for you, then I’m sure I can find a way! I always love to help! Especially you, and your brilliant work!”–I had to resist the urge to laugh out loud here. He’s trying so hard to remain composed and act like he’s moved on, and then she gives him the anime eyes and he simps HARD XD

      You can really see Nyssa’s “madness” here in a way that we don’t see often. The fact that she is willing to use the boy and her feelings for her really shows just how far she is willing to go–and how far gone she already is.

      This was a great read!!

    3. RVMPLSTLTSKN Avatar
      RVMPLSTLTSKN

      Tagback review!

      This is a strange, almost new side of Nyssa. She’s very cold to empathy here, which is almost character breaking. But it works. I’d love to see this as a twopart scene were we see her grapple with the morality of this event.

      One thing I find interesting is how this machinating trait will inform her future adventures and comrades. She already feels like an outsider and this is a potential point of tension or stumbling block for her.

      Really interesting piece, Calliope! And well written!

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