"We can't leave him. We can't just fucking leave him to the Monsters." You know she's right, know that whatever fate awaited Lucas after death would be nothing to the defilement that the Monsters promised once the Facilities were cleared of the intruders. You can already see his bones scattered, his corpse rotted and hung, his body nothing more than another piece of a pile of hoard or something dragged until he was scattered through metal and stone, stained into forsaken misery. The image of all those lost explorers and scientists and crew sit in your mind, that disgusting shrine of bodies that those left behind made as their suits gave out. Samantha's voice is nothing but a whisper, but it's far too loud for your guilt. "We don't leave crew behind." That single beg forces humanity through your bones. You give Riley one look, point to the door and get him talking to Samantha before you turn your radio off so they can't kill you with her sobs.

☕Okay okay okay, we know we've haven't been around, and we totally- LOOK, A SQUIRREL PLAGIARIZING POE.☕
☕Aaanyways, here you go!☕

There's something between guilt and vindication.
Day Fourteen | Line[s] Fourteen | Three Day Deadlines
#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity

He mutters a Curse, tries to run loops through his mind before the whisper of Magicks comes, the soft Existence settling against the door to his room. He barely breathes the words, gives the Observer the entirety of his attention. "What can I do for you, Master Observer?" The man hums without commitment, Jasper waiting for the words to follow suit as he drifts back into his thoughts over the Dragon. It takes a moment too long for him to notice that the Observer has given no words. He immediately drags himself to sit up, focusing on the Observer and noting the way he is staring. It is with all the dismissal that Mitch would never give; Cain is nothing like his brothers. He is expectant where Mitch would be curious; he is demanding where Abel would eb considerate. Jasper gives him a tired look, runs a hand over his face as he tries again. "If you are here to discuss the Rider, I am afraid that you probably hold more Knowledge than I do on the subject." The Observer lifts a brow, his head tilting in the soft familiarity of Knowledge not yet shared.

☕We don't know why we tried to force ourselves onto one Work, when we know better.☕
☕Anyways, here we are, going off script bc we can.☕

Jasper is aware of many things. Just not these kinds.
Day Eight | Line[s] Eight | Before The Strings Are Cut
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The Elleth find the small Being within wooden cages, tiny and intricate in their slavery to ensure that the Folokora were forced into silence. They step onto the Ship with zero interest in anything that the Beings have to say. It is only the destination that brings their roots onto the soft ache of the Trees, the Ship humming low and true, only for the gentle rumble of the Elleth to hear and perceive. But something else notes their soft dance with the wood; the Elleth glances up just in time to note the soft whisper of wings, the tiny whistle of a chime.

☕ Wandering further away from the main Works but honestly, we're having more fun with the Words, so. ☕

The Folokora stares at them with something akin to familiarity.
Day Seven | Line Seven | Deep Water Prompts
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You open the cupboard, know exactly where the jar is going to be. It sits in the exact middle of the entire space, menacing in a way that promised items are. You stare at the thing, know for a fact that there is absolutely nothing inside of that jar. How many times had you snuck your way into the cupboard, shaking and teasing and wondering? Nana had made it seem like something close to generations of wealth or secrets were stuck inside that sealed lid, and yet, all that damn glass collected was dust. You sigh, take a second to stare at the jar - always catching the light, always demanding attention even when the cupboard doors were closed - before you glance back at your Mama and give her a small frown.

☕Following the whims of our Creations, but here we are with something a bit random, but also a bit wonderful.☕

Nana says it is nothing more than a loan.
Day Five | Line Five | Random Writes
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He is everything that Daedalus remembers, nothing that Daedalus knows. Icarus stands before him, his son the perfect puzzle that he had been when he had been sent to freedom. But there is something about it, like Daedalus could outline every piece of his son, the cracks and grooves of someone putting him back together more apparent than the mosaic that now made him up. He stops dead in his tracks, notes the smile that carves itself into his son's face; fake, forgotten, nothing more than the motion and the expectation of what it should bring. "Father."

☕ Shifting focus for a moment, but who wouldn't when you remember that you had a really good idea from before? ☕

They find Icarus among ruins and statues.
Day Four | Line[s] Four | Daedalus & Icarus
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"I don't know yet. But it is different, Cider." He smiles wide, noting the nickname and hating it already. "I have a name." The Argoxian hums loudly, the mischief settling in their eyes without regret. "I never asked."

☕We ended up missing a day, but we are coming back and falling right into the brainrot for this new idea.☕

Imagine only being known by an Encounter.
Day Three | Line[s] Three | The Vessel & The Slave
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They shift barely, note the Survivor sitting next to them. Their face is in their hands, and they keep themselves bowed against themselves even as their voice comes, their back shuddering as they drag air through their lungs. "You cannot destroy their body so carelessly." A small thought to the focus of that broken voice; not for them, but amusement sits under their skin like barely controlled laughter. They swallow the emotions, force their hand into motion, their focus into the bones, their purpose into the mind instead of the passive control of the Blessing. They touch the Survivor's head, barely sit their fingers in their hair. The Survivor throws their head up, abandoning their hand to stare them down. They blink, realize there is too much emotion in those eyes. Tears are making rivers out of their cheeks and their lips are opening for their teeth. They choke on their shame, the sob barely coming out even as they stare them down. "You cannot keep doing this."

☕ hello and how are you, fellow Wanderers? ☕
☕ Yes, yes we are back. No, no we still don't know. ☕

There is agony in the peace of their Purpose.
Day One | Line[s] One | The Vessel & The Slave
#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity

Day 30 #30Days30Lines I suppose it was only by the grace of God that anyone survived the sinking, but that wouldn't comfort someone whose mother drowned in the Atlantic. #HistorytownAZ

"People still say 'hey' or 'good morning,' right? Or did someone change the rules?" Day 29 #30Days30Lines #HistorytownAZ

Day 28 #30Days30Lines I do recall that after tea, you'd grinned for a full hour, but you were so enchanted by the ship that I'd assumed you'd been captivated by a bench or a deck light or a particularly fetching floor tile. #HistorytownAZ

Day 27 #30Days30Lines "Did your mom ever tell you anything about seeing a steampunk ghost dog?" #HistorytownAZ

Day 26 #30Days30Lines

When I left home this morning, the air felt like warm soup. #HistorytownAZ

Day 29! One more day to go!

It's great that I get to explore other characters in this book. It's little pieces here and there but it's been nice to add it in

#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writing #fantasy #dragoncry 📚💙 🩷🧙‍♂️⚔️

Day 25 #30Days30Lines

"Where's Paradox City?" I asked.

"Nowhere," Rocky said. "Doesn't exist. Unless it does."

#HistorytownAZ

Day24 #30Days30Lines "A drone? Do you mean a bee? Oh, how did you find a projector small enough for a bee to carry?" #HistorytownAZ

Day 23 #30Days30Lines

I didn't find any news of you, but some of the information they reported about the R.M.S. Carpathia was wrong. Surely they must have left out the good news of your rescue, too. Tragedy sells more newspapers than joy does.

#HistorytownAZ

Day 28!!

Can you really have magic without a school filled with magic users? It's not really in this book as a setting, but it's there, waiting for me to do something with it

unless...

#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writing #fantasy #dragoncry 📚💙 🩷🧙‍♂️⚔️

Day 22 #30Days30Lines I love you so much. #HistorytownAZ

Day 27!

I love writing from my mmc's point of view. It's nice to write about the main character from someone who adores them and there's so much more of it in this book

#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writing #fantasy #dragoncry 📚💙 🩷🧙‍♂️⚔️

Day 21 #30Days30Lines Rocky wasn't smiling, and I feared something was terribly wrong.

Day 20 #30Days30Lines. (My WIP is a sequel and I'm wrediting probably the last chapter, so like almost every line is a spoiler...this one isn't, but it's less compelling than some other lines...)

I know. You always wanted me to tell my story in order. I'll try.

#HistorytownAZ

You have to wonder what you look like, clawing your Existence through the very air of the Forests, clinging to anything that would pull you further from the Beast and Being that is hunting you down. You wonder how you must seem, tearing through the World itself, trying to find something that you are starting to think never thought to exist for you in the first place. The voice hits your ears, a scream against the hysteria already sitting in your skull. “You’ve never looked at me like that before.” There is something in that thought, something in the way the entire World seems to snap out of and into focus with it. You cannot think about, cannot linger on the moment, know that if you stutter now, the only thing waiting for you being the rattling bag of bones you trick yourself into hearing, far too loud and far too close for anything but your horror. The Hunter is closing in; you almost lose yourself to stupidity and give your voice to the Silent Night as the thought claws out your reason.

🪷 We actually had fun writing today, even though we think we ended up with something a little less focused, a little more instinctual. 🪷

"Do not fear me. Fear yourself."
Day Three | Line[s] Three | The Records of Asteria Borealis
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Day 26!

I have officially started on my second book and here's a little snippit from today!!!

#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity #writers #writing #fantasy #dragoncry 📚💙 🩷🧙‍♂️⚔️

That seems to drag the Being into action; you flinch as it throws the sack over its shoulders, the noise of the contents ringing louder than the Storm around you. It digs into its form, a hand holding the shifting form of something before you watch a horn touch its lips. A sound of something ungodly comes, the mixture of Beasts screaming into the night air as the horn drags hysteria through your blood and bones. You press against the Tree, wish it is not the thing that is behind you, something in the noise of the horn reminding you of the Beast of the Lake, of the hanging men, the blue fire of the devils itself. You stare at the Nightmare, note that it is no longer blowing into the horn, the only screech being the echo of it within your ears.

🪷 Was a bit harder today, to write and think, but I do think we ended up with quite the thought. Maybe you can peek it tomorrow as well. 🪷

There is something waiting for you in the snow.
Day Two | Line Two | The Records of Asteria Borealis
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You stutter in your steps as you hear it, the loud and ominous toll of a clock that has been counting down your demise. The vibrations of the bell sit just under your skin, ensuring that you know it is ever present, coming for you every hour, counted upon without your awareness save the reminder that not even Time is on your side. You shudder through the tolls, hold yourself as the bell drives itself further and further into your blood and bone. The clock ticks itself to something close to midnight, and there is something in that thought.

🪷 Starting out the month strong with a new challenge and a new bit of the Storyverse dragging us into madness. 🪷

You need to figure something out before Midnight.
Day One | Line One | The Records of Asteria Borealis
#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity

Day 19 #30Days30Lines If you're reading this, I imagine you probably know what I mean by 'uncanny plaque.' If you don't, you can learn about it in the letters I'm leaving you. #HistorytownAZ

#30Days30Lines "If anyone in my family doesn't love you, I'll have to love you twice as hard to make up for it." #HistorytownAZ

There are corpses hanging from its antlers. There is something wrong in that thought, something that makes you stare, willing your brain to supply different Knowledge. It is almost as if the Beast is its own hanging tree, the soft sway of the bodies as it moves forward doing nothing but give your mind the unhelpful thought of how frozen they must be. You stare, mind bending entirely to the Beast that seems to be more than aware of your Existence. You watch as it steps forward, note that there is a glow to the Beast, different than the white burn of the snow and storm around it. It bleeds in electric blue, your mind noting that there are flames sitting over it, as if its fur is nothing but the burn of something unholy.

🪷 We are ending this month with a complete challenge and a thought for the next month! 🪷

There is a Beast before you.
Content Warning: Corpses, Death Mention
Day Thirty | Line Thirty | The Records of Asteria Borealis
#30Days30Lines #amwriting #writingcommunity

Day 17 #30Days30Lines

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope it finds you at all, though I fear it won't. #HistorytownAZ

(Also hit my monthly time goal! Pro tip, do whatever naming system you have to do to ensure you don't edit 40 single-spaced pages of an old draft...UGH. Fixed now)

“Oh my, how noble.” She barely pays attention to the Ancient, focus bent entirely as she runs to Aiden and pulls him against her. Blood drains from his body like a leaky pipe, the Immortal gagging hard as red saliva slips from his mouth. He struggles to even stay with her, eyes emptying by the second as Elaine chokes on words. He manages to drag a stain over her clothes, hand fumbling to do more than spread his red Existence over her clothes. Elaine tries to focus, tries to force herself into anything other than hearing the ring of Aiden’s previous thoughts sitting in her ears, far too loud for a memory that barely matters now. ‘It always hurts.’ ‘Immortality never equates to invincibility.’ Elaine feels herself holding tighter onto the Immortal, eyes barely taking in the Ancient’s advance as her mind empties of everything but the single thought of the dying man in her arms.

🪷 Another day, another session of rewriting old things and forgetting that the Works exist. Though I do love the thought of immortality versus invincibility. 🪷

Content Warning: Blood, Injury
Day Twenty Nine | Line[s] Twenty Nine | Random Writes
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