Inktober 2025!

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

22 minutes ago, mippo said:

Yeah I like how it's someone telling a story

I was like, what if I did 2nd person but in 3rd person

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

I will start inktiber tmrw bc state testing is over and I finnally have time

[Edema Rue she/her]

Oct 3: Crown

Spoiler

She’s quite messy, but funner than homework. Words are Heavy is the Crown by Linkin Park.

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

3 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Oct 3: Crown

  Reveal hidden contents

She’s quite messy, but funner than homework. Words are Heavy is the Crown by Linkin Park.

Aw I was hoping for another edema rue masterpiece

can you at least tell me how I did on mine?

[Edema Rue she/her]

43 minutes ago, CoderDrag0n8 said:

Aw I was hoping for another edema rue masterpiece

can you at least tell me how I did on mine?

Sorry to disappoint, but I have an idea for tomorrow that will (hopefully) make up for it.

it was good! Probably unsurprisingly, I love a good witch and a good assassination, and playing with perspective is one of my favorite things, so it was really fun to read.

Edited October 4, 2025 by Edema Rue

[___ He/Him]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

Sorry to disappoint, but I have an idea for tomorrow that will (hopefully) make up for it.

it was good! Probably unsurprisingly, I love a good witch and a good assassination, and playing with perspective is one of my favorite things, so it was really fun to read.

Oh how about mine?

I'd love your advice

[Ink and Embers Any pronouns]

Here is a really, really bad piece I made in far too little time for Day Four

Quote

Day Four: Murky

 

She found it in one of the spare rooms; one of the spare rooms of a spare castle. There were no fires lit this far in the west wing yet, and the stones did nothing but compound the whispering chill of the air.

So when she first saw the mirror, she saw another person - where else would the lantern light have been coming from? But no, only a mirror, and a lantern, and a girl with a death sentence etched into her bones.

The mirror was just another item in the piles of forgotten dreams, left there last time the castle was visited - or the time before, or the time before. Spidery cracks crinkled the corners, making the girl's reflection distorted. But only around the edges. Like what she was seeing wasn't quite whole enough to be real.

A girl in a fine green dress, smeared by ash and weeks of running, eyes kept down. Keep running, keep running, they're coming. A crown on her head and a lantern in her hand.

She reachs forwards and wipes a layer of dust off the mirror. A queen stares back from the murky depths.

I think tomorrow's will be better

I'll probably only do this at the weekend??

[Edema Rue she/her]

8 hours ago, mippo said:

Oh how about mine?

I'd love your advice

It was good! I liked the way his perspective slowly changed and then at the end where you had that lil reveal, that was cool. And I could picture the whole thing really well, so nice work on that.

I can always give critique if you want it, but I usually try not to because honestly, most of the things I see get fixed by practice, and it’s pretty hard (especially online) to give critique that makes a person want to keep writing. For teenagers, I’d rather highlight the things one does well, maybe point out a thing or two that they can try working on if I know them well enough, and then have them just keep writing. A lot. Practice and reading good books are honestly the best things a person can do if they want to write beautifully.

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

11 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Sorry to disappoint, but I have an idea for tomorrow that will (hopefully) make up for it.

it was good! Probably unsurprisingly, I love a good witch and a good assassination, and playing with perspective is one of my favorite things, so it was really fun to read.

Ooooo another edema rue master piece coming up!!!

2 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

It was good! I liked the way his perspective slowly changed and then at the end where you had that lil reveal, that was cool. And I could picture the whole thing really well, so nice work on that.

I can always give critique if you want it, but I usually try not to because honestly, most of the things I see get fixed by practice, and it’s pretty hard (especially online) to give critique that makes a person want to keep writing. For teenagers, I’d rather highlight the things one does well, maybe point out a thing or two that they can try working on if I know them well enough, and then have them just keep writing. A lot. Practice and reading good books are honestly the best things a person can do if they want to write beautifully.

I already have the book part down.

Also what the huh am i supposed to do with murky???

edit: nvm i figured it out the moment i posted this

Edited October 4, 2025 by CoderDrag0n8

[___ He/Him]

2 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

It was good! I liked the way his perspective slowly changed and then at the end where you had that lil reveal, that was cool. And I could picture the whole thing really well, so nice work on that.

I can always give critique if you want it, but I usually try not to because honestly, most of the things I see get fixed by practice, and it’s pretty hard (especially online) to give critique that makes a person want to keep writing. For teenagers, I’d rather highlight the things one does well, maybe point out a thing or two that they can try working on if I know them well enough, and then have them just keep writing. A lot. Practice and reading good books are honestly the best things a person can do if they want to write beautifully.

Thanks! 

Yeah makes sense

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

Okay guys

Day 4: Murky

Spoiler

"The night's barely begun! Who would like to hear another story?" The traveling Jesk said.

"Oh, Mr. Curious. I still don't know your name... Could you care to tell me?" The Jesk asked.

"You like being called Mr. Curious? Okay. Well, what story did you want to hear?" The Jesk inquired.

"The story of where all the swamps went? Ah, yes, I did say that little detail in my last retelling, didn't I?" The Jesk replied.

"HEY! GET ON WITH THE STORY!" One of the rude onlookers shouted.

"Alright, alright."

"You all know full well the story of the witch.

However, did you know that there used to be many of her kind?

Beings of magic and curses, who had enchanted weapons and skills

Well, there was a way to become one of these people...

You would have to capture a god."

Everyone in the room gasped.

"But... Gods are the most dangerous beasts in the world! They even live in the Cursed Lands!" How in the world would you capture one?" A confused onlooker remarked.

"These beings, known as the Cursed, all had a peculiar tattoo on their arm, sometimes going through their entire body." The Jesk continued,

"And the new King needed an assassin.

Someone came, and at that time, people didn't know of the Cursed and their tattoos.

So this assassin came, a wyrm on his arm, and accepted the request to slay the witch.

Every time he couldn't find the witch in a swamp,

He would look down into the murky waters...

and let his tattoo be free.

Swamps on fire, deserts after the wyrm was through with them, he ravaged.

One day, there was only 1 swamp left in the entire world. There, he and the witch fought.

Curses flying through the air, a wyrm and a giant beast fought above.

In the end, the holder of the wyrm lost,

and some say,

If you look down into the murky waters of the swamp, you can still see a man staring up at you, trapped, with a wyrm flying high above.

And that, my dear friends, is why you never mess with the Witch of the Swamp..."

 

[___ He/Him]

Murky:

Spoiler

The city’s many lights shone bright in the night. The boy looked out the window of his apartment, up at the sky. He wished there was less light, maybe then he could see the stars. It was his birthday, and he had just gotten his first-ever telescope. He had tried to use it on the roof, but the sky was too murky, like someone had poured dark gray paint all over the heavens. 

His mom entered the room. “Hi sweetie, how are you liking your telescope? Have you spotted any cool stars?” She came over and sat down on the bed next to him. He sighed and shook his head. “There’s too much light pollution, I can’t see anything.” She frowned. “That’s a bummer. Maybe you can go visit your grandparents next year, in the country.” The boy sighed again. “You’re sure that we can’t go on a short trip, just outside the city? I still have a few days left until school starts, and it wouldn’t have to be a long trip!” His voice became pleading. “Please mom? I really want to see the stars.” She smiled softly. “If you go brush your teeth and get in bed now, I’ll talk to your dad about going early in the morning.” She stood up and walked to the door. “But you have to go to bed now!” The boy grinned. “I will! Thanks mom!” She smiled and exited the room.

The next morning, the boy got up early and eagerly ran into the kitchen. His mom was already sitting at the table, dark circles under her eyes. She held up a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. “I talked to dad, and he’s alright with it. Are you ready to go?” The boy practically burst with excitement. “Yay! I’ll go get ready right now!” The boy ran back to his room to get some things. His mom laughed at his enthusiasm, and took another sip of her coffee. While the boy was packing, his dad came out of his bedroom, stretching. He smiled at his wife. “Any coffee left in the pot?” “I’m glad you asked,” she said, and motioned to a cup beside her. “I’ve got some for you right here.” He sat down, and gave her a kiss. The boy came back out, lugging a bag and his telescope case behind him. “I’m ready! Let’s go.”

An hour later, after eating breakfast, they were in the worst traffic of their lives. The boy’s leg bounced with annoyance and anticipation. “Why is it so slow?” His dad was frowning, and looked out the window. “It looks like there’s a crash up ahead. Hopefully it’ll speed up soon.”

After another hour of traffic, They finally made it out of the city. They cruised down the road, singing songs together. Then, a loud *BANG*, and the car shook. “What happened?” The boy’s eyes were wide with fear. The dad, who was driving, pulled over to the side of the road. He got out, and inspected the car. “Looks like we blew a tire.” The boy’s mother groaned and put her head in her hands. “First the traffic, now this.” The boy quickly unbuckled and stepped out of the car, then stared at dismay at the shredded tire. “We’ll never get there at this rate!”

Seven hours passed, as they didn’t have a tire and there weren’t any tire replacement services nearby. Yes. Six hours. Don’t question it. 

The sky was dark now. The boy was dejected, all hope of getting there gone. The family stood outside the car, watching the repair-person replace the tire. “Sorry, son,” the dad said, and put an arm behind the boy’s shoulders. The boy looked up at the murky, light-polluted sky, free of any spots of shining stars, and finally accepted that he would never get to use his telescope. 

At this moment, the city’s lights flickered, and then every light shut off. The boy and his parents all gaped in surprise, and the repair man cursed–he had neglected to use any flashlight and the city was his source of light. The boy slowly looked up at the sky, and it was beautiful. He could see the galaxy stretching above him, and thousands of bright dots. Stars. The boy whooped happily, and quickly got out his telescope. His parents laughed, not believing their fortune. The boy looked through the eye piece, and it was stunning. It was exactly what he had wanted to see in the first place.

 

The End.

Super hastily written

Saturday

[Edema Rue she/her]

Oct 4: Murky

Sorry, it’s a little late and a little messy, but I worked 10 hours today and had a lot of homework and things, so not as much time as I wanted.

Spoiler

The boy’s name was Asher. He drifted mindlessly around the Center, eyes wide and frightened. The Doctors said he reminded them of a ghost. They said it like it was a joke. They said it with laughs, and the smiles that were too wide to be human. 

“He’s our little spirit,” they said affectionately. “Can you see him, or is it just me?”

Another boy’s name was Sam. He had a leg he hadn’t been born with, one that clicked loudly on the Center’s floors. The Doctors got angry when he tried to walk on his own. The others are trying to sleep, they said. You could get hurt. And besides, where are you going in such a hurry? Sit here, in this chair, and we can take you where you need to go.

He put a cloth over the false foot, and then he walked in secret. He went from his room to the kitchen to his room to the bathroom. He hid from the Doctors and pretended he was a spy. Then the cloth slipped on the hard floor, and Sam fell, and there was a lot of blood for a long time before anyone found him, and then there was noise and he cried and then it was dark and quiet. 

“Stay in bed, where it’s safe,” and this time he did.

There was a girl named Eliza who loved to dance, but now it hurt whenever she moved. “Not on your own,” they said, so she sat quietly and waited for someone to let her dance again. When they told her the Center offered a dance class, she was ready to run all the way there. Instead, they pushed her in a chair on wheels. When she got to the class, they told her she wasn’t supposed to stand up, but she could sway to the music or move her arms.

Eliza said nothing. What was there to say? They wouldn’t let her stand up. Maybe because they knew it would hurt, but hurt was good for a person, wasn’t it? That’s what her mother used to say. Her…when had she last seen her mother? Where was her mother now? Her family was supposed to be with her always, weren’t they? Without realizing it, she’d started to cry.

“Oh,” her Doctor said. “You were a dancer, weren’t you? Is it hard to be here? We won’t come back to dance class, okay?”

A boy named John who got to see his family every week. A girl named Sarah who liked to look like a princess, until she saw how it made the Doctors sigh when they had to help her put on her favorite dresses. A pair of boys both named Micheal who decided they were brothers. A girl named Rachelle who started to feel like she swallowed more pills than food.

The days blurred together, a murky mess of beds and chairs and closed windows. Maybe ironically, things were clearest at night. Some of the residents slept, but some could do nothing but live and feel and hope, and those ones spent the nights together. With the Doctors, because they weren’t meant to walk around alone, especially at night. So they moved chairs and put all the wanderers together around a false fire where the Doctors could watch them.

One of the boys was named Diego, and the Doctors kept his hands bound to his wheeled chair. “Too many tubes,” they told him. “We can’t have you pulling them out. This is our last resort.”

“You’re tying me down like an animal,” Diego told them, but it made no difference. Usually, nighttime was the worst. He couldn’t sleep, so he’d lie awake and panic, panic, panic. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get out. The oxygen tube was tickling his cheek but he couldn’t itch it, and the IV was pinching his arm, and it was too dark, too quiet, too lonesome, and wouldn’t it just be easier to die?

Now he spent his nights with the Wanderers. That was what Rachelle called them.  She claimed she’d been a poet, back before, and so they laughingly accepted the name. Sometimes they talked, told stories. Sam could make them laugh until their sides hurt, except that most of the time they didn’t want to laugh, and neither did he. So they’d sit. Quietly, passively. Eliza liked to find shapes in the fire. 

“Well look at that,” she’d say. “That stick and that log make a kite.” But the fire wasn’t real, so the logs never changed, and she made the same comment every night. Diego wondered, sometimes, if he was the only one who noticed. Every day and night was a repeat of the one before, blurring reality into the murk they knew so well. The Michaels, too, went around in an endless cycle.

Michael Johnson never had tubes or needles or pills, which wasn’t at all fair. If they didn’t give Diego tubes or needles or pills, he wouldn’t be in trouble for pulling them back out. He’d be able to walk. But there was something else that kept Asher and Michael in the Center. He’d never heard Asher speak, and Michael only said the same few words.

“I’m going home,” he’d mumble, meandering towards the door. “Got to get home for Millie’s birthday.”

“You aren’t,” Michael Handlee would say firmly, slurred so it sounded more like one word: yarn’t. “This’s home.”

“Who are you?” Michael Johnson would ask.

“Name’s Michael.”

Michael Johnson’s eyes would get wide, his jaw would drop, and he’d exclaim, “why, so is mine!”

Michael Handlee would act as excited as he’d ever been, and Diego still wasn’t sure if it was real or an act. “We must be brothers,” he declared, and Michael Johnson would forget about going home for the next handful of hours. Sometimes they reenacted the performance multiple times a day. The Doctors smiled and laughed. “Kids,” they’d mumble affectionately.

One night, sitting by the fire, surrounded by people who weren’t quite friends, Diego found himself glaring. “It’s not right,” he mumbled. He handn’t meant to mumble. He’d wanted to snap, his voice as whiplike and powerful as it had been before the Center. But it wasn’t, and he mumbled.

“Well look at that,” Eliza said. “That stick and that log make a kite.”

“Home for Millie’s birthday,” Michael Johnson replied. 

“I’m pretty enough to be a princess,” Sarah said confidently.

“This isn’t right,” Diego repeated, looking around desperately, needing someone to hear him. One of the Doctors met his eye. Smiling brightly, she squatted next to his chair.

“Are you okay, Diego?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Is there anything I can do?”

“This isn’t right,” he said, hoping he sounded twice as controlled as he felt.

“Do you want to talk about it?“

That’s what I’m doing. “I don’t want an oxygen tube and a wheelchair and an IV. I want—”

“You want to go home, is that it?” Diego started as the Doctor cut him off. Did she think he was talking too slowly? “This is your home now. I know it can be frustrating, but it can be a very happy place for you, especially if you stop trying to take off your tubes. If you do that, we can let your hands up, and you’ll be much happier. How does that sound?”

“Fine,” Diego said, because he had nothing else to say to her. 

“Are you all right? You sound angry.”

“It’s fine,” Diego said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Would you like me to take you to your room?”

“I want to take myself.”

“You know that isn’t allowed,” the Doctor said sternly.

“Fine.”

“I’ll take you.”

 

[Ink and Embers Any pronouns]

11 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Oct 4: Murky

Sorry, it’s a little late and a little messy, but I worked 10 hours today and had a lot of homework and things, so not as much time as I wanted.

  Hide contents

The boy’s name was Asher. He drifted mindlessly around the Center, eyes wide and frightened. The Doctors said he reminded them of a ghost. They said it like it was a joke. They said it with laughs, and the smiles that were too wide to be human. 

“He’s our little spirit,” they said affectionately. “Can you see him, or is it just me?”

Another boy’s name was Sam. He had a leg he hadn’t been born with, one that clicked loudly on the Center’s floors. The Doctors got angry when he tried to walk on his own. The others are trying to sleep, they said. You could get hurt. And besides, where are you going in such a hurry? Sit here, in this chair, and we can take you where you need to go.

He put a cloth over the false foot, and then he walked in secret. He went from his room to the kitchen to his room to the bathroom. He hid from the Doctors and pretended he was a spy. Then the cloth slipped on the hard floor, and Sam fell, and there was a lot of blood for a long time before anyone found him, and then there was noise and he cried and then it was dark and quiet. 

“Stay in bed, where it’s safe,” and this time he did.

There was a girl named Eliza who loved to dance, but now it hurt whenever she moved. “Not on your own,” they said, so she sat quietly and waited for someone to let her dance again. When they told her the Center offered a dance class, she was ready to run all the way there. Instead, they pushed her in a chair on wheels. When she got to the class, they told her she wasn’t supposed to stand up, but she could sway to the music or move her arms.

Eliza said nothing. What was there to say? They wouldn’t let her stand up. Maybe because they knew it would hurt, but hurt was good for a person, wasn’t it? That’s what her mother used to say. Her…when had she last seen her mother? Where was her mother now? Her family was supposed to be with her always, weren’t they? Without realizing it, she’d started to cry.

“Oh,” her Doctor said. “You were a dancer, weren’t you? Is it hard to be here? We won’t come back to dance class, okay?”

A boy named John who got to see his family every week. A girl named Sarah who liked to look like a princess, until she saw how it made the Doctors sigh when they had to help her put on her favorite dresses. A pair of boys both named Micheal who decided they were brothers. A girl named Rachelle who started to feel like she swallowed more pills than food.

The days blurred together, a murky mess of beds and chairs and closed windows. Maybe ironically, things were clearest at night. Some of the residents slept, but some could do nothing but live and feel and hope, and those ones spent the nights together. With the Doctors, because they weren’t meant to walk around alone, especially at night. So they moved chairs and put all the wanderers together around a false fire where the Doctors could watch them.

One of the boys was named Diego, and the Doctors kept his hands bound to his wheeled chair. “Too many tubes,” they told him. “We can’t have you pulling them out. This is our last resort.”

“You’re tying me down like an animal,” Diego told them, but it made no difference. Usually, nighttime was the worst. He couldn’t sleep, so he’d lie awake and panic, panic, panic. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t get out. The oxygen tube was tickling his cheek but he couldn’t itch it, and the IV was pinching his arm, and it was too dark, too quiet, too lonesome, and wouldn’t it just be easier to die?

Now he spent his nights with the Wanderers. That was what Rachelle called them.  She claimed she’d been a poet, back before, and so they laughingly accepted the name. Sometimes they talked, told stories. Sam could make them laugh until their sides hurt, except that most of the time they didn’t want to laugh, and neither did he. So they’d sit. Quietly, passively. Eliza liked to find shapes in the fire. 

“Well look at that,” she’d say. “That stick and that log make a kite.” But the fire wasn’t real, so the logs never changed, and she made the same comment every night. Diego wondered, sometimes, if he was the only one who noticed. Every day and night was a repeat of the one before, blurring reality into the murk they knew so well. The Michaels, too, went around in an endless cycle.

Michael Johnson never had tubes or needles or pills, which wasn’t at all fair. If they didn’t give Diego tubes or needles or pills, he wouldn’t be in trouble for pulling them back out. He’d be able to walk. But there was something else that kept Asher and Michael in the Center. He’d never heard Asher speak, and Michael only said the same few words.

“I’m going home,” he’d mumble, meandering towards the door. “Got to get home for Millie’s birthday.”

“You aren’t,” Michael Handlee would say firmly, slurred so it sounded more like one word: yarn’t. “This’s home.”

“Who are you?” Michael Johnson would ask.

“Name’s Michael.”

Michael Johnson’s eyes would get wide, his jaw would drop, and he’d exclaim, “why, so is mine!”

Michael Handlee would act as excited as he’d ever been, and Diego still wasn’t sure if it was real or an act. “We must be brothers,” he declared, and Michael Johnson would forget about going home for the next handful of hours. Sometimes they reenacted the performance multiple times a day. The Doctors smiled and laughed. “Kids,” they’d mumble affectionately.

One night, sitting by the fire, surrounded by people who weren’t quite friends, Diego found himself glaring. “It’s not right,” he mumbled. He handn’t meant to mumble. He’d wanted to snap, his voice as whiplike and powerful as it had been before the Center. But it wasn’t, and he mumbled.

“Well look at that,” Eliza said. “That stick and that log make a kite.”

“Home for Millie’s birthday,” Michael Johnson replied. 

“I’m pretty enough to be a princess,” Sarah said confidently.

“This isn’t right,” Diego repeated, looking around desperately, needing someone to hear him. One of the Doctors met his eye. Smiling brightly, she squatted next to his chair.

“Are you okay, Diego?”

“No.”

“That’s too bad. Is there anything I can do?”

“This isn’t right,” he said, hoping he sounded twice as controlled as he felt.

“Do you want to talk about it?“

That’s what I’m doing. “I don’t want an oxygen tube and a wheelchair and an IV. I want—”

“You want to go home, is that it?” Diego started as the Doctor cut him off. Did she think he was talking too slowly? “This is your home now. I know it can be frustrating, but it can be a very happy place for you, especially if you stop trying to take off your tubes. If you do that, we can let your hands up, and you’ll be much happier. How does that sound?”

“Fine,” Diego said, because he had nothing else to say to her. 

“Are you all right? You sound angry.”

“It’s fine,” Diego said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Would you like me to take you to your room?”

“I want to take myself.”

“You know that isn’t allowed,” the Doctor said sternly.

“Fine.”

“I’ll take you.”

 

That is terrifying and also brilliant 

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

Day 4 murky:

Sarah wanted to die, unfortunately her body wouldn’t let her. So she did what she always did when she wanted to die. She sat on her balcony and filled her ears with the sound of Gerard Way yelling about how “we’re all gonna die” and blocked out the world. 

 

On this day those words and noises blocked out the screams from the New York City streets 12 floors lower. And she closed her eyes which if kept open for seconds more would have seen the murky Hudson River rising at an incredibly rapid rate and overtaking the lower levels of the city. 

 

She didn’t notice the water until the song stopped and she opened her eyes to find the water around her neck, her mouth, her nose, and at last, her eyes. And she got what she wanted but could never have. On this day she died, in a storm of ringing ears, lungs clogged with dirty water and eyes seeing the destruction of the world.

 

its kinda short but I finished it at like 10 pm last night so eh I’ll post day five later when I write it lol.

[Ink and Embers Any pronouns]

This is a short scene from a story I'm trying to write; it was the first one from this character's PoV.

Spoiler

Day Five: Deer

 

Oliver stood covered in blood, men cheering around him. Even Barador clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

Oliver was glad for the helmet, to hide his flinching. 

The laughing men seemed too close for people too far away as they chattered excitably. A stag, and on the prince's first hunt, too! A sure sign of a good future. 

If this was the future, Oliver wanted back the past. 

But you wanted this, a confused voice whispered from the back of his head, You were so excited.

But that had been before he saw the deer running and knew it had to die. 

He didn't want this. 

He had to have it.

Can I put drawings on this thread too?

Edited October 5, 2025 by Ink and Embers
Question

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

3 hours ago, Ink and Embers said:

This is a short scene from a story I'm trying to write; it was the first one from this character's PoV.

  Reveal hidden contents

Day Five: Deer

 

Oliver stood covered in blood, men cheering around him. Even Barador clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

Oliver was glad for the helmet, to hide his flinching. 

The laughing men seemed too close for people too far away as they chattered excitably. A stag, and on the prince's first hunt, too! A sure sign of a good future. 

If this was the future, Oliver wanted back the past. 

But you wanted this, a confused voice whispered from the back of his head, You were so excited.

But that had been before he saw the deer running and knew it had to die. 

He didn't want this. 

He had to have it.

Can I put drawings on this thread too?

Yes you can 

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

Day 5: Deer

Spoiler

The Jesk looked across the crowd and replied to the question. "You wish to know how the witch became Cursed? Well, that sure is one big story."

By now, people were satisfied and beginning to leave.

"Oh, you wish to stay, Mr. Curious? How interesting. Well, on with the story I will go.

You remember the assassin?

Well, he was her friend.

They had heard the rumors of catching a god.

And each area of the desert had different beasts.

Many had said the desert is quite small, but you could travel through it for days and still not find your destination.

Some claimed to have traveled all across the desert, it only taking them many a year.

How did they sustain themselves?

No one knew. Many thought they were liars and cheats.

However, this pair of brother and sister

Had set out to find the gods.

Each section of the desert had one powerful god that ruled over the other clans.

They traveled to the god's land, full of mystery.

And the first god they found was a majestic Wyrm,

Mighty and powerful indeed.

The brother, Athtar, captured this beast.

But only after a great struggle.

Athtar wished to return, but his sister insisted on staying.

They traveled a bit farther, and encountered a beast.

The moment they laid eyes on it, they knew that this God was the most powerful in this section of the Cursed Lands.

It was a powerful Deer.

One that loomed above all, could crush even the mightiest of Gods.

And the sister, Aerith, wished to capture it.

And after great communing, for one could not defeat this beast, the Mighty Deer was captured.

From the other tale, the reason the king's son was able to convince Aerith to kill his sister,

Was because of the one standing next to him.

The great Piercer of Gods, the only God who was able to take human form, Forare.

For, Forare is mighty and powerful, but that is a story for another time." The Jesk finished, as the last customer left the tavern.

"One more story? Fine, fine. But only one more, Mr. Curious."

Penultimate of the series!

Edited October 5, 2025 by CoderDrag0n8

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

13 minutes ago, CoderDrag0n8 said:

Day 4: Deer

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The Jesk looked across the crowd and replied to the question. "You wish to know how the witch became Cursed? Well, that sure is one big story."

By now, people were satisfied and beginning to leave.

"Oh, you wish to stay, Mr. Curious? How interesting. Well, on with the story I will go.

You remember the assassin?

Well, he was her friend.

They had heard the rumors of catching a god.

And each area of the desert had different beasts.

Many had said the desert is quite small, but you could travel through it for days and still not find your destination.

Some claimed to have traveled all across the desert, it only taking them many a year.

How did they sustain themselves?

No one knew. Many thought they were liars and cheats.

However, this pair of brother and sister

Had set out to find the gods.

Each section of the desert had one powerful god that ruled over the other clans.

They traveled to the god's land, full of mystery.

And the first god they found was a majestic Wyrm,

Mighty and powerful indeed.

The brother, Athtar, captured this beast.

But only after a great struggle.

Athtar wished to return, but his sister insisted on staying.

They traveled a bit farther, and encountered a beast.

The moment they laid eyes on it, they knew that this God was the most powerful in this section of the Cursed Lands.

It was a powerful Deer.

One that loomed above all, could crush even the mightiest of Gods.

And the sister, Aerith, wished to capture it.

And after great communing, for one could not defeat this beast, the Mighty Deer was captured.

From the other tale, the reason the king's son was able to convince Aerith to kill his sister,

Was because of the one standing next to him.

The great Piercer of Gods, the only God who was able to take human form, Forare.

For, Forare is mighty and powerful, but that is a story for another time." The Jesk finished, as the last customer left the tavern.

"One more story? Fine, fine. But only one more, Mr. Curious."

Penultimate of the series!

I thought it was day five? Loved the writing tho

[CoderDrag0n8 He/They]

26 minutes ago, Honors ghost said:

I thought it was day five? Loved the writing tho

*loading loading*

sorry lol my brain died edited

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

7 minutes ago, CoderDrag0n8 said:

*loading loading*

sorry lol my brain died edited

Bahahahahahah

[Edema Rue she/her]

19 hours ago, Ink and Embers said:

That is terrifying and also brilliant 

Why thank you! I’d like to thank my CNA textbook for inspiring it

(sorry Dragon, no masterpiece today)

Day 5: Deer

Spoiler

 

Alternately, moose! It’s been a great day.

 

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

10 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Why thank you! I’d like to thank my CNA textbook for inspiring it

(sorry Dragon, no masterpiece today)

Day 5: Deer

  Hide contents

 

Alternately, moose! It’s been a great day.

 

You took both of those today!!!

[Edema Rue she/her]

4 minutes ago, Honors ghost said:

You took both of those today!!!

Yep! I also have butterflies, mountains, leaves, and I made a new pair of earrings. I love fall.

[Honors Spectral Image She/her]

4 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Yep! I also have butterflies, mountains, leaves, and I made a new pair of earrings. I love fall.

Luckyyy that’s so cool