Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted February 9 Posted February 9 3 minutes ago, momadrac said: thats a great question You can write within a quote so I just had my writing bar within the quote for some reason an quoted again Huh
Rynturning_Light She/Her Posted February 9 Posted February 9 16 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh You can quote multiple things at a time Like, if you start typing in a quote then click "quote" again while your cursors still in the quote section: 16 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh 16 minutes ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh See?
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted February 9 Author Posted February 9 1 minute ago, Rynturning_Light said: You can quote multiple things at a time Like, if you start typing in a quote then click "quote" again while your cursors still in the quote section: See? 1 minute ago, Rynturning_Light said: You can quote multiple things at a time Like, if you start typing in a quote then click "quote" again while your cursors still in the quote section: See? Woah Sorcery
Kansas Stormcursed he/him Posted February 9 Posted February 9 11 minutes ago, Rynturning_Light said: You can quote multiple things at a time Like, if you start typing in a quote then click "quote" again while your cursors still in the quote section: See? That's just odd
Rynturning_Light She/Her Posted February 9 Posted February 9 1 minute ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: That's just odd Yeah, i don't know what you'd use it for But it's there
CoderDrag0n8 He/They Posted February 10 Posted February 10 9 hours ago, Rynturning_Light said: 9 hours ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh You can quote multiple things at a time Like, if you start typing in a quote then click "quote" again while your cursors still in the quote section: 9 hours ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh 9 hours ago, Kansas Stormcursed said: Huh See? You can also do this :3
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted February 11 Author Posted February 11 (edited) I've written another poem Just last night actually Spoiler Armor You hold my name like something borrowed Careful not to crease it Careful not to keep it too long You ask if I am well In the same voice you use for strangers Warm, practiced Already halfway out the door My words are winds in the desert Passing over endless sands Intangible, fleeting When the sun rises they never were I think you love me In the way one loves fair May Grateful for its warmth But never willing to stand in its rains If I broke open in front of you If the ink spilled out and reached for your hands You would step back Not unkindly Just enough to stay clean You would say my name like an apology For something you never promised You only ever gave me What cost you nothing Edited February 11 by SpartanBrigade 3
Through The Living Ash he/him Posted February 11 Posted February 11 15 minutes ago, SpartanBrigade said: I've written another poem Just last night actually Hide contents Armor You hold my name like something borrowed Careful not to crease it Careful not to keep it too long You ask if I am well n the same voice you use for strangers Warm, practiced Already halfway out the door My words are winds in the desert Passing over endless sands Intangible, fleeting When the sun rises they never were I think you love me In the way one loves fair May Grateful for its warmth But never willing to stand in its rains If I broke open in front of you If the ink spilled out and reached for your hands You would step back Not unkindly Just enough to stay clean You would say my name like an apology For something you never promised You only ever gave me What cost you nothing Out of curiosity, why is it titled Armor?
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted February 11 Author Posted February 11 6 minutes ago, Ashkaloda said: Out of curiosity, why is it titled Armor? I think the reason they act that way is at least in part because of self-preservation Mostly because of self-preservation Act like that and you don't have to risk really caring or getting hurt It's armor Plus there's the double bonus of it being a play on their last name
Through The Living Ash he/him Posted February 11 Posted February 11 13 minutes ago, SpartanBrigade said: I think the reason they act that way is at least in part because of self-preservation Mostly because of self-preservation Act like that and you don't have to risk really caring or getting hurt It's armor Plus there's the double bonus of it being a play on their last name Interesting!
CoderDrag0n8 He/They Posted February 11 Posted February 11 9 hours ago, SpartanBrigade said: I've written another poem Just last night actually Hide contents Armor You hold my name like something borrowed Careful not to crease it Careful not to keep it too long You ask if I am well In the same voice you use for strangers Warm, practiced Already halfway out the door My words are winds in the desert Passing over endless sands Intangible, fleeting When the sun rises they never were I think you love me In the way one loves fair May Grateful for its warmth But never willing to stand in its rains If I broke open in front of you If the ink spilled out and reached for your hands You would step back Not unkindly Just enough to stay clean You would say my name like an apology For something you never promised You only ever gave me What cost you nothing Who hurt you T^T 1
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted February 12 Author Posted February 12 4 hours ago, CoderDrag0n8 said: Who hurt you T^T You know what they say What doesn’t kill you makes you a better writer
CoderDrag0n8 He/They Posted February 12 Posted February 12 1 hour ago, SpartanBrigade said: You know what they say What doesn’t kill you makes you a better writer You know what they say what does kill you makes you a better writer Spoiler brandon must've written secret history from experience i see no other way 4
Ink and Embers Any pronouns Posted February 12 Posted February 12 On 2/11/2026 at 2:09 PM, SpartanBrigade said: I've written another poem Just last night actually Hide contents Armor You hold my name like something borrowed Careful not to crease it Careful not to keep it too long You ask if I am well In the same voice you use for strangers Warm, practiced Already halfway out the door My words are winds in the desert Passing over endless sands Intangible, fleeting When the sun rises they never were I think you love me In the way one loves fair May Grateful for its warmth But never willing to stand in its rains If I broke open in front of you If the ink spilled out and reached for your hands You would step back Not unkindly Just enough to stay clean You would say my name like an apology For something you never promised You only ever gave me What cost you nothing Oh awesome!!!!!!
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted March 9 Author Posted March 9 This is something I wrote just now Not a poem this time Short story Warning: contains heavy stuff Spoiler The power had failed while he’d been gone. The basement was now lit only by dull, crimson emergency lights. It’s time now. Long past time. The others wouldn’t know of course. He’d make sure the secret died with him. It would only break them apart and God knew another burden was the last thing they needed. “I’m home, love,” he called out to the darkened room. His voice was steady even as his hands trembled. “Laine’s boy is bigger than ever. I wish you could hold him. He’s beautiful. Time really does fly by doesn’t it?” He slammed his fists against the rusted fuse box. Please. Please don’t let it turn on. It did of course. Just as it had a hundred times before. With a sudden buzz, light flooded the room, harsh, white, and clinical. Something began hissing wetly from the far side of the room, madly banging against glass.“I know,” he called soothingly. “I know. It’s alright. Don’t pay it any mind.” He knelt, sifting through a dusty box filled with old things. Faded photos. A camera that no longer worked. A pair of round, scratched glasses. Something crunched and broke, a dozen tiny shards of glass piercing his palm. At last he found what he needed. “Harlan was able to fix up the old cassette. Didn’t even ask for nothing in return. He’s a good man.” With a grunt he hoisted the machine onto a table. The shards of glass pushed further inside his hand. “I’ve been saving this for you.” He held up a dented cassette tape. “It’s ours. The one we bought that first week in Little Rock.” He wiped his dripping palm against his pant leg. “It was in the back of the Chevy this whole time. Can you believe it?” He laughed softly. “You remember how scratched it already was? The clerk told us it’d skip.” The thing in the tank thrashed again. A wet, desperate sound filled the room as something repeatedly struck the glass. He slid the cassette into the player. Nothing happened. Only more sounds from the tank. A breath. A breath. A breath. Slowly his heart began to beat again. He couldn’t do it without the cassette. He had been wrong, Harlan had made a mistake, he could— Then music. Thin and warbling from age, but unmistakable. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “See?” he murmured. “Still works.” Who knows how long I’ve loved you? The hissing grew more frenzied. You know I love you still, He drew out one final tool from the box. Silently, he pressed his hand against the glass tank. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will. The glass was cold. On the other side the banging intensified. For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. A ruined, broken form. It hammered on the glass, what remained of its jaws snapping against the tank. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. The snapping slowed. The thing struck the glass once more, then again more uncertainly. He didn’t pull his hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “I know it’s hard.” Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. The thing’s movements faltered. A clouded eye rolled toward him. Beneath the twisted bone, beneath the dead flesh, something in that eye fought to focus. Behind him, the cassette caught. Heart — heart — heart — heart — heart — The music died. The thing’s gaze began to grow animalistic. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” His words came softly, barely clinging together. “And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air.” The thing stilled once again. His voice shattered, but he continued his song. “Sing it loud so I can hear you.” Slowly, hesitantly, the thing pressed what had once been a hand against the glass. “Make it easy to be near you.” The thing fell quiet. “For the things you do endear you to me.” The thing began a new sound. Not a cry. Not a hiss. A sound as if it were imitating the song in its own broken way. He was right then. “Oh, you know I will.” The final words escaped his lips as a whisper. He raised the final tool. “I promised I’d never hold you,” he breathed. “Never if you didn’t want to be held.” He forced his shaking hand to steady. “You can sleep now, love.” He looked one last time into the thing’s glassy eyes. “Goodnight.” A breath. A bang. Then silence. 4
Vielence She/Her Posted March 9 Posted March 9 17 minutes ago, Through The Living Spartan said: This is something I wrote just now Not a poem this time Short story Warning: contains heavy stuff Hide contents The power had failed while he’d been gone. The basement was now lit only by dull, crimson emergency lights. It’s time now. Long past time. The others wouldn’t know of course. He’d make sure the secret died with him. It would only break them apart and God knew another burden was the last thing they needed. “I’m home, love,” he called out to the darkened room. His voice was steady even as his hands trembled. “Laine’s boy is bigger than ever. I wish you could hold him. He’s beautiful. Time really does fly by doesn’t it?” He slammed his fists against the rusted fuse box. Please. Please don’t let it turn on. It did of course. Just as it had a hundred times before. With a sudden buzz, light flooded the room, harsh, white, and clinical. Something began hissing wetly from the far side of the room, madly banging against glass.“I know,” he called soothingly. “I know. It’s alright. Don’t pay it any mind.” He knelt, sifting through a dusty box filled with old things. Faded photos. A camera that no longer worked. A pair of round, scratched glasses. Something crunched and broke, a dozen tiny shards of glass piercing his palm. At last he found what he needed. “Harlan was able to fix up the old cassette. Didn’t even ask for nothing in return. He’s a good man.” With a grunt he hoisted the machine onto a table. The shards of glass pushed further inside his hand. “I’ve been saving this for you.” He held up a dented cassette tape. “It’s ours. The one we bought that first week in Little Rock.” He wiped his dripping palm against his pant leg. “It was in the back of the Chevy this whole time. Can you believe it?” He laughed softly. “You remember how scratched it already was? The clerk told us it’d skip.” The thing in the tank thrashed again. A wet, desperate sound filled the room as something repeatedly struck the glass. He slid the cassette into the player. Nothing happened. Only more sounds from the tank. A breath. A breath. A breath. Slowly his heart began to beat again. He couldn’t do it without the cassette. He had been wrong, Harlan had made a mistake, he could— Then music. Thin and warbling from age, but unmistakable. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “See?” he murmured. “Still works.” Who knows how long I’ve loved you? The hissing grew more frenzied. You know I love you still, He drew out one final tool from the box. Silently, he pressed his hand against the glass tank. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will. The glass was cold. On the other side the banging intensified. For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. A ruined, broken form. It hammered on the glass, what remained of its jaws snapping against the tank. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. The snapping slowed. The thing struck the glass once more, then again more uncertainly. He didn’t pull his hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “I know it’s hard.” Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. The thing’s movements faltered. A clouded eye rolled toward him. Beneath the twisted bone, beneath the dead flesh, something in that eye fought to focus. Behind him, the cassette caught. Heart — heart — heart — heart — heart — The music died. The thing’s gaze began to grow animalistic. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” His words came softly, barely clinging together. “And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air.” The thing stilled once again. His voice shattered, but he continued his song. “Sing it loud so I can hear you.” Slowly, hesitantly, the thing pressed what had once been a hand against the glass. “Make it easy to be near you.” The thing fell quiet. “For the things you do endear you to me.” The thing began a new sound. Not a cry. Not a hiss. A sound as if it were imitating the song in its own broken way. He was right then. “Oh, you know I will.” The final words escaped his lips as a whisper. He raised the final tool. “I promised I’d never hold you,” he breathed. “Never if you didn’t want to be held.” He forced his shaking hand to steady. “You can sleep now, love.” He looked one last time into the thing’s glassy eyes. “Goodnight.” A breath. A bang. Then silence. *blinks* first things first: FIRE second things second: Are you ok? That was good but hearbreaking. *hugs* Good job though I read that thing 4 times
Verdance he/him Posted March 10 Posted March 10 4 hours ago, Through The Living Spartan said: This is something I wrote just now Not a poem this time Short story Warning: contains heavy stuff Reveal hidden contents The power had failed while he’d been gone. The basement was now lit only by dull, crimson emergency lights. It’s time now. Long past time. The others wouldn’t know of course. He’d make sure the secret died with him. It would only break them apart and God knew another burden was the last thing they needed. “I’m home, love,” he called out to the darkened room. His voice was steady even as his hands trembled. “Laine’s boy is bigger than ever. I wish you could hold him. He’s beautiful. Time really does fly by doesn’t it?” He slammed his fists against the rusted fuse box. Please. Please don’t let it turn on. It did of course. Just as it had a hundred times before. With a sudden buzz, light flooded the room, harsh, white, and clinical. Something began hissing wetly from the far side of the room, madly banging against glass.“I know,” he called soothingly. “I know. It’s alright. Don’t pay it any mind.” He knelt, sifting through a dusty box filled with old things. Faded photos. A camera that no longer worked. A pair of round, scratched glasses. Something crunched and broke, a dozen tiny shards of glass piercing his palm. At last he found what he needed. “Harlan was able to fix up the old cassette. Didn’t even ask for nothing in return. He’s a good man.” With a grunt he hoisted the machine onto a table. The shards of glass pushed further inside his hand. “I’ve been saving this for you.” He held up a dented cassette tape. “It’s ours. The one we bought that first week in Little Rock.” He wiped his dripping palm against his pant leg. “It was in the back of the Chevy this whole time. Can you believe it?” He laughed softly. “You remember how scratched it already was? The clerk told us it’d skip.” The thing in the tank thrashed again. A wet, desperate sound filled the room as something repeatedly struck the glass. He slid the cassette into the player. Nothing happened. Only more sounds from the tank. A breath. A breath. A breath. Slowly his heart began to beat again. He couldn’t do it without the cassette. He had been wrong, Harlan had made a mistake, he could— Then music. Thin and warbling from age, but unmistakable. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “See?” he murmured. “Still works.” Who knows how long I’ve loved you? The hissing grew more frenzied. You know I love you still, He drew out one final tool from the box. Silently, he pressed his hand against the glass tank. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will. The glass was cold. On the other side the banging intensified. For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. A ruined, broken form. It hammered on the glass, what remained of its jaws snapping against the tank. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. The snapping slowed. The thing struck the glass once more, then again more uncertainly. He didn’t pull his hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “I know it’s hard.” Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. The thing’s movements faltered. A clouded eye rolled toward him. Beneath the twisted bone, beneath the dead flesh, something in that eye fought to focus. Behind him, the cassette caught. Heart — heart — heart — heart — heart — The music died. The thing’s gaze began to grow animalistic. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” His words came softly, barely clinging together. “And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air.” The thing stilled once again. His voice shattered, but he continued his song. “Sing it loud so I can hear you.” Slowly, hesitantly, the thing pressed what had once been a hand against the glass. “Make it easy to be near you.” The thing fell quiet. “For the things you do endear you to me.” The thing began a new sound. Not a cry. Not a hiss. A sound as if it were imitating the song in its own broken way. He was right then. “Oh, you know I will.” The final words escaped his lips as a whisper. He raised the final tool. “I promised I’d never hold you,” he breathed. “Never if you didn’t want to be held.” He forced his shaking hand to steady. “You can sleep now, love.” He looked one last time into the thing’s glassy eyes. “Goodnight.” A breath. A bang. Then silence. What the peak. This legit scares me.
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted March 10 Author Posted March 10 1 hour ago, Through The Living Grass said: What the peak. This legit scares me. Thanks : D I’ve been trying my hand at horror recently 6 hours ago, VieB13 said: *blinks* first things first: FIRE second things second: Are you ok? That was good but hearbreaking. *hugs* Good job though I read that thing 4 times Thank ye kindly Yeah I’m alright I was inspired by scrolling through Instagram reels and finding a clip from a comedy zombie movie where a bunch of boy scouts fend off a zombie by singing Britney Spears at it And it responding to them like there was still a Britney Spears fan in there I feel like in zombie media they’re usually just puppets basically They’re monsters but they’re completely dead, it’s just a walking shell So it might freak you out to take one out but you’re good And I really liked the idea that they’re not dead That there’s someone still alive and aware and the same person in there At least to some extent And then I thought I could really explore the emotional implications of that And so I did But yeah basically the thought process was ”This comedy scene, make it emotionally devastating, yes.” Leans out of frame
___ He/Him Posted March 10 Posted March 10 7 hours ago, Through The Living Spartan said: This is something I wrote just now Not a poem this time Short story Warning: contains heavy stuff Reveal hidden contents The power had failed while he’d been gone. The basement was now lit only by dull, crimson emergency lights. It’s time now. Long past time. The others wouldn’t know of course. He’d make sure the secret died with him. It would only break them apart and God knew another burden was the last thing they needed. “I’m home, love,” he called out to the darkened room. His voice was steady even as his hands trembled. “Laine’s boy is bigger than ever. I wish you could hold him. He’s beautiful. Time really does fly by doesn’t it?” He slammed his fists against the rusted fuse box. Please. Please don’t let it turn on. It did of course. Just as it had a hundred times before. With a sudden buzz, light flooded the room, harsh, white, and clinical. Something began hissing wetly from the far side of the room, madly banging against glass.“I know,” he called soothingly. “I know. It’s alright. Don’t pay it any mind.” He knelt, sifting through a dusty box filled with old things. Faded photos. A camera that no longer worked. A pair of round, scratched glasses. Something crunched and broke, a dozen tiny shards of glass piercing his palm. At last he found what he needed. “Harlan was able to fix up the old cassette. Didn’t even ask for nothing in return. He’s a good man.” With a grunt he hoisted the machine onto a table. The shards of glass pushed further inside his hand. “I’ve been saving this for you.” He held up a dented cassette tape. “It’s ours. The one we bought that first week in Little Rock.” He wiped his dripping palm against his pant leg. “It was in the back of the Chevy this whole time. Can you believe it?” He laughed softly. “You remember how scratched it already was? The clerk told us it’d skip.” The thing in the tank thrashed again. A wet, desperate sound filled the room as something repeatedly struck the glass. He slid the cassette into the player. Nothing happened. Only more sounds from the tank. A breath. A breath. A breath. Slowly his heart began to beat again. He couldn’t do it without the cassette. He had been wrong, Harlan had made a mistake, he could— Then music. Thin and warbling from age, but unmistakable. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “See?” he murmured. “Still works.” Who knows how long I’ve loved you? The hissing grew more frenzied. You know I love you still, He drew out one final tool from the box. Silently, he pressed his hand against the glass tank. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will. The glass was cold. On the other side the banging intensified. For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. A ruined, broken form. It hammered on the glass, what remained of its jaws snapping against the tank. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. The snapping slowed. The thing struck the glass once more, then again more uncertainly. He didn’t pull his hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “I know it’s hard.” Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. The thing’s movements faltered. A clouded eye rolled toward him. Beneath the twisted bone, beneath the dead flesh, something in that eye fought to focus. Behind him, the cassette caught. Heart — heart — heart — heart — heart — The music died. The thing’s gaze began to grow animalistic. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” His words came softly, barely clinging together. “And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air.” The thing stilled once again. His voice shattered, but he continued his song. “Sing it loud so I can hear you.” Slowly, hesitantly, the thing pressed what had once been a hand against the glass. “Make it easy to be near you.” The thing fell quiet. “For the things you do endear you to me.” The thing began a new sound. Not a cry. Not a hiss. A sound as if it were imitating the song in its own broken way. He was right then. “Oh, you know I will.” The final words escaped his lips as a whisper. He raised the final tool. “I promised I’d never hold you,” he breathed. “Never if you didn’t want to be held.” He forced his shaking hand to steady. “You can sleep now, love.” He looked one last time into the thing’s glassy eyes. “Goodnight.” A breath. A bang. Then silence. Oh wow That was really good You could be a published author!
Ink and Embers Any pronouns Posted March 10 Posted March 10 18 hours ago, Through The Living Spartan said: This is something I wrote just now Not a poem this time Short story Warning: contains heavy stuff Hide contents The power had failed while he’d been gone. The basement was now lit only by dull, crimson emergency lights. It’s time now. Long past time. The others wouldn’t know of course. He’d make sure the secret died with him. It would only break them apart and God knew another burden was the last thing they needed. “I’m home, love,” he called out to the darkened room. His voice was steady even as his hands trembled. “Laine’s boy is bigger than ever. I wish you could hold him. He’s beautiful. Time really does fly by doesn’t it?” He slammed his fists against the rusted fuse box. Please. Please don’t let it turn on. It did of course. Just as it had a hundred times before. With a sudden buzz, light flooded the room, harsh, white, and clinical. Something began hissing wetly from the far side of the room, madly banging against glass.“I know,” he called soothingly. “I know. It’s alright. Don’t pay it any mind.” He knelt, sifting through a dusty box filled with old things. Faded photos. A camera that no longer worked. A pair of round, scratched glasses. Something crunched and broke, a dozen tiny shards of glass piercing his palm. At last he found what he needed. “Harlan was able to fix up the old cassette. Didn’t even ask for nothing in return. He’s a good man.” With a grunt he hoisted the machine onto a table. The shards of glass pushed further inside his hand. “I’ve been saving this for you.” He held up a dented cassette tape. “It’s ours. The one we bought that first week in Little Rock.” He wiped his dripping palm against his pant leg. “It was in the back of the Chevy this whole time. Can you believe it?” He laughed softly. “You remember how scratched it already was? The clerk told us it’d skip.” The thing in the tank thrashed again. A wet, desperate sound filled the room as something repeatedly struck the glass. He slid the cassette into the player. Nothing happened. Only more sounds from the tank. A breath. A breath. A breath. Slowly his heart began to beat again. He couldn’t do it without the cassette. He had been wrong, Harlan had made a mistake, he could— Then music. Thin and warbling from age, but unmistakable. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. “See?” he murmured. “Still works.” Who knows how long I’ve loved you? The hissing grew more frenzied. You know I love you still, He drew out one final tool from the box. Silently, he pressed his hand against the glass tank. Will I wait a lonely lifetime? If you want me to I will. The glass was cold. On the other side the banging intensified. For if I ever saw you, I didn’t catch your name. A ruined, broken form. It hammered on the glass, what remained of its jaws snapping against the tank. But it never really mattered, I will always feel the same. The snapping slowed. The thing struck the glass once more, then again more uncertainly. He didn’t pull his hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “I know it’s hard.” Love you forever and forever, love you with all my heart. The thing’s movements faltered. A clouded eye rolled toward him. Beneath the twisted bone, beneath the dead flesh, something in that eye fought to focus. Behind him, the cassette caught. Heart — heart — heart — heart — heart — The music died. The thing’s gaze began to grow animalistic. “Love you whenever we’re together, love you when we’re apart.” His words came softly, barely clinging together. “And when at last I find you, your song will fill the air.” The thing stilled once again. His voice shattered, but he continued his song. “Sing it loud so I can hear you.” Slowly, hesitantly, the thing pressed what had once been a hand against the glass. “Make it easy to be near you.” The thing fell quiet. “For the things you do endear you to me.” The thing began a new sound. Not a cry. Not a hiss. A sound as if it were imitating the song in its own broken way. He was right then. “Oh, you know I will.” The final words escaped his lips as a whisper. He raised the final tool. “I promised I’d never hold you,” he breathed. “Never if you didn’t want to be held.” He forced his shaking hand to steady. “You can sleep now, love.” He looked one last time into the thing’s glassy eyes. “Goodnight.” A breath. A bang. Then silence. Oh Wow Holy- That's terrifying That's really really really good!!!!
SpartanBrigade He/Him Posted May 13 Author Posted May 13 (edited) Howdy folks I have returnethed I just wrote a new thing I’m trying out a new style, feedback is appreciated Spoiler So it came to pass that an infant was born unto that land, a blight upon its people, growing as the vine grows strangling the oak. In his seventeenth year his face was fairer than snow upon the mountaintop and his heart fouler than carrion left to be fed upon by the winged beasts and wretched shakiim. Among the people he walked, and many a babe and virgin and elder fell to his honeyed words, their lives consumed by the unending hunger. But by and by à fear stole across the craven heart, for all men must one day return to darkness, and on that day the loathsome pleasures would end. So it was that The Pariah sought to cheat the darkness, for even he bore the knowledge it cannot be conquered. For countless moons did he dwell in the foul arts, his bread death and his nectar the hunt. The leaves turned to withered husks and the breeze to chilling wind and still he worked in his profane pursuit. When at last the silent winter gave way to the thaw, a great cry arose among the people of the village for many in their number had been claimed by The Pariah’s hand. “Where is the man who has defiled us?” They demanded. “Let him be flung from his abode and face retribution of the just!” It was then that their eyes were opened, their vision turned to the hovel where The Pariah dwelled. So it was that they came upon him with sword and flame and rope and dragged him through the streets for six days and six nights before casting him unto the fire. When the flames died and the people stood glad in their work, The Pariah stood in judgement before the Light. “Look upon those that you have desecrated,” commanded the Light, and The Pariah looked upon them, scores of faces without hate nor judgment nor pain, but he did not feel remorse nor fear, only burning wrath. “Their mothers weep for them, just as your own mother weeps for you.” Said the Light. “Let your reward be your punishment, your punishment your reward. You shall have life everlasting, yet you shall be forever confined to the darkness. Your soul shall be preserved, yet it will be ruined beyond repair. You will hunt among the people, yet they will drive you away with the salt of the Earth and the branch of the tree. I will not forsake you to the One Below, for even now you may be an instrument of Me. Depart from me now, and fulfill my will.” So it was that The Pariah was cast out, forever to be deprived of the Light, forever to prowl this world, and forever to loathe his reward. Edited May 13 by SpartanBrigade 5
Ink and Embers Any pronouns Posted May 13 Posted May 13 9 hours ago, SpartanBrigade said: Howdy folks I have returnethed I just wrote a new thing I’m trying out a new style, feedback is appreciated Reveal hidden contents So it came to pass that an infant was born unto that land, a blight upon its people, growing as the vine grows strangling the oak. In his seventeenth year his face was fairer than snow upon the mountaintop and his heart fouler than carrion left to be fed upon by the winged beasts and wretched shakiim. Among the people he walked, and many a babe and virgin and elder fell to his honeyed words, their lives consumed by the unending hunger. But by and by à fear stole across the craven heart, for all men must one day return to darkness, and on that day the loathsome pleasures would end. So it was that The Pariah sought to cheat the darkness, for even he bore the knowledge it cannot be conquered. For countless moons did he dwell in the foul arts, his bread death and his nectar the hunt. The leaves turned to withered husks and the breeze to chilling wind and still he worked in his profane pursuit. When at last the silent winter gave way to the thaw, a great cry arose among the people of the village for many in their number had been claimed by The Pariah’s hand. “Where is the man who has defiled us?” They demanded. “Let him be flung from his abode and face retribution of the just!” It was then that their eyes were opened, their vision turned to the hovel where The Pariah dwelled. So it was that they came upon him with sword and flame and rope and dragged him through the streets for six days and six nights before casting him unto the fire. When the flames died and the people stood glad in their work, The Pariah stood in judgement before the Light. “Look upon those that you have desecrated,” commanded the Light, and The Pariah looked upon them, scores of faces without hate nor judgment nor pain, but he did not feel remorse nor fear, only burning wrath. “Their mothers weep for them, just as your own mother weeps for you.” Said the Light. “Let your reward be your punishment, your punishment your reward. You shall have life everlasting, yet you shall be forever confined to the darkness. Your soul shall be preserved, yet it will be ruined beyond repair. You will hunt among the people, yet they will drive you away with the salt of the Earth and the branch of the tree. I will not forsake you to the One Below, for even now you may be an instrument of Me. Depart from me now, and fulfill my will.” So it was that The Pariah was cast out, forever to be deprived of the Light, forever to prowl this world, and forever to loathe his reward. AWESOME!!!! The writing style is very LoTR-esque, and lots of the imagery is very cool, especially the "his bread death and his nectar the hunt". This is really really cool!!!!
___ He/Him Posted May 13 Posted May 13 11 hours ago, SpartanBrigade said: Howdy folks I have returnethed I just wrote a new thing I’m trying out a new style, feedback is appreciated Reveal hidden contents So it came to pass that an infant was born unto that land, a blight upon its people, growing as the vine grows strangling the oak. In his seventeenth year his face was fairer than snow upon the mountaintop and his heart fouler than carrion left to be fed upon by the winged beasts and wretched shakiim. Among the people he walked, and many a babe and virgin and elder fell to his honeyed words, their lives consumed by the unending hunger. But by and by à fear stole across the craven heart, for all men must one day return to darkness, and on that day the loathsome pleasures would end. So it was that The Pariah sought to cheat the darkness, for even he bore the knowledge it cannot be conquered. For countless moons did he dwell in the foul arts, his bread death and his nectar the hunt. The leaves turned to withered husks and the breeze to chilling wind and still he worked in his profane pursuit. When at last the silent winter gave way to the thaw, a great cry arose among the people of the village for many in their number had been claimed by The Pariah’s hand. “Where is the man who has defiled us?” They demanded. “Let him be flung from his abode and face retribution of the just!” It was then that their eyes were opened, their vision turned to the hovel where The Pariah dwelled. So it was that they came upon him with sword and flame and rope and dragged him through the streets for six days and six nights before casting him unto the fire. When the flames died and the people stood glad in their work, The Pariah stood in judgement before the Light. “Look upon those that you have desecrated,” commanded the Light, and The Pariah looked upon them, scores of faces without hate nor judgment nor pain, but he did not feel remorse nor fear, only burning wrath. “Their mothers weep for them, just as your own mother weeps for you.” Said the Light. “Let your reward be your punishment, your punishment your reward. You shall have life everlasting, yet you shall be forever confined to the darkness. Your soul shall be preserved, yet it will be ruined beyond repair. You will hunt among the people, yet they will drive you away with the salt of the Earth and the branch of the tree. I will not forsake you to the One Below, for even now you may be an instrument of Me. Depart from me now, and fulfill my will.” So it was that The Pariah was cast out, forever to be deprived of the Light, forever to prowl this world, and forever to loathe his reward. WHOA That's really good!!!
CoderDrag0n8 He/They Posted May 14 Posted May 14 17 hours ago, SpartanBrigade said: Howdy folks I have returnethed I just wrote a new thing I’m trying out a new style, feedback is appreciated Hide contents So it came to pass that an infant was born unto that land, a blight upon its people, growing as the vine grows strangling the oak. In his seventeenth year his face was fairer than snow upon the mountaintop and his heart fouler than carrion left to be fed upon by the winged beasts and wretched shakiim. Among the people he walked, and many a babe and virgin and elder fell to his honeyed words, their lives consumed by the unending hunger. But by and by à fear stole across the craven heart, for all men must one day return to darkness, and on that day the loathsome pleasures would end. So it was that The Pariah sought to cheat the darkness, for even he bore the knowledge it cannot be conquered. For countless moons did he dwell in the foul arts, his bread death and his nectar the hunt. The leaves turned to withered husks and the breeze to chilling wind and still he worked in his profane pursuit. When at last the silent winter gave way to the thaw, a great cry arose among the people of the village for many in their number had been claimed by The Pariah’s hand. “Where is the man who has defiled us?” They demanded. “Let him be flung from his abode and face retribution of the just!” It was then that their eyes were opened, their vision turned to the hovel where The Pariah dwelled. So it was that they came upon him with sword and flame and rope and dragged him through the streets for six days and six nights before casting him unto the fire. When the flames died and the people stood glad in their work, The Pariah stood in judgement before the Light. “Look upon those that you have desecrated,” commanded the Light, and The Pariah looked upon them, scores of faces without hate nor judgment nor pain, but he did not feel remorse nor fear, only burning wrath. “Their mothers weep for them, just as your own mother weeps for you.” Said the Light. “Let your reward be your punishment, your punishment your reward. You shall have life everlasting, yet you shall be forever confined to the darkness. Your soul shall be preserved, yet it will be ruined beyond repair. You will hunt among the people, yet they will drive you away with the salt of the Earth and the branch of the tree. I will not forsake you to the One Below, for even now you may be an instrument of Me. Depart from me now, and fulfill my will.” So it was that The Pariah was cast out, forever to be deprived of the Light, forever to prowl this world, and forever to loathe his reward. Ok so i'm overwhelmed uhhh first piece of advice: paragraph breaks (they help a lot) (was that mean I'm sorry if that was mean i did not mean to be mean) Later Coder: OH THATS GOOD
ChipsAHoid He/Him Posted May 14 Posted May 14 20 hours ago, SpartanBrigade said: Howdy folks I have returnethed I just wrote a new thing I’m trying out a new style, feedback is appreciated Hide contents So it came to pass that an infant was born unto that land, a blight upon its people, growing as the vine grows strangling the oak. In his seventeenth year his face was fairer than snow upon the mountaintop and his heart fouler than carrion left to be fed upon by the winged beasts and wretched shakiim. Among the people he walked, and many a babe and virgin and elder fell to his honeyed words, their lives consumed by the unending hunger. But by and by à fear stole across the craven heart, for all men must one day return to darkness, and on that day the loathsome pleasures would end. So it was that The Pariah sought to cheat the darkness, for even he bore the knowledge it cannot be conquered. For countless moons did he dwell in the foul arts, his bread death and his nectar the hunt. The leaves turned to withered husks and the breeze to chilling wind and still he worked in his profane pursuit. When at last the silent winter gave way to the thaw, a great cry arose among the people of the village for many in their number had been claimed by The Pariah’s hand. “Where is the man who has defiled us?” They demanded. “Let him be flung from his abode and face retribution of the just!” It was then that their eyes were opened, their vision turned to the hovel where The Pariah dwelled. So it was that they came upon him with sword and flame and rope and dragged him through the streets for six days and six nights before casting him unto the fire. When the flames died and the people stood glad in their work, The Pariah stood in judgement before the Light. “Look upon those that you have desecrated,” commanded the Light, and The Pariah looked upon them, scores of faces without hate nor judgment nor pain, but he did not feel remorse nor fear, only burning wrath. “Their mothers weep for them, just as your own mother weeps for you.” Said the Light. “Let your reward be your punishment, your punishment your reward. You shall have life everlasting, yet you shall be forever confined to the darkness. Your soul shall be preserved, yet it will be ruined beyond repair. You will hunt among the people, yet they will drive you away with the salt of the Earth and the branch of the tree. I will not forsake you to the One Below, for even now you may be an instrument of Me. Depart from me now, and fulfill my will.” So it was that The Pariah was cast out, forever to be deprived of the Light, forever to prowl this world, and forever to loathe his reward. Ok ok ok this is giving Annatar If you’ve read the Silmarillion But absolute FIRE 10 hours ago, Ink and Embers said: AWESOME!!!! The writing style is very LoTR-esque, and lots of the imagery is very cool, especially the "his bread death and his nectar the hunt". This is really really cool!!!! Ah great minds think alike
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