The PPC Posting Board - Latest posts

((Thank you, Calliope mah dahling, for betawork!))





The End-of-Year Feast at Beauxbatons was something else. Mason couldn't help but smile, seeing the tables slowly filling with solid gold bowls, dishwares, and plates the size of police shields, all containing one delicious food after another. He could see various types of roasted meat, grilled vegetables, boards of cheese and baskets of bread, big pots of aromatic stews... Despite the last night's celebration at the Hogwarts' quarters, everybody seemed to have room for more food. After all, it was the last day, all the important guests had already gathered, and the 2014 Triwizard Tournament was about to officially end.

Looking over at the Hogwarts guest section, Mason saw his friends in their usual environment. Paul and Oscar were too busy stuffing their faces and quite animatedly discussing something. Next to them was Lydia, who met Mason's gaze and gave him an excited two-thumbs-up! He wasn't exactly sure why, seeing as their school came out of the competition tying with the host for the exact number of points, so could it really be considered a second place?

Over at the Champions' table discussions also kept on going. Mason noticed on his left Gentry de Saint-Germain speaking vigorously to Headmaster Colbert. The man was seemingly letting his students talk out all of his problems and issues (at least that's how Mason saw it), but it seemed like he was dozing off a little bit, almost dumping his elbow into a bowl of stew. On his right, Mason saw Alva Krieger calmly eating her breakfast. She and Headmistress Borisova weren't talking much, subtly ignoring other guests by answering their questions with one or two short words.

Mason smiled. Both Gentry and Alva were fierce competitors, and he couldn't have picked better people to give him a run for his Galleons. Then, by the end, if it wasn't for them, he would certainly be in a worse condition than a broken arm. He looked at Headmistress McGonagall but found her chatting with the French Minister for Magic, and therefore decided it wouldn't be the smartest idea to interrupt them.

After the Feast has finally ended, and the official and unofficial goodbyes were exchanged, the students from the visiting schools started gathering by their designed modes of transportation. The Durmstrang ship was ready to sail, and the Hogwarts Express’s whistle rang once again. While exiting the gates of the school, the guests were led by a water salute that sprouted out of the Flamel Fountain. The statues of both Nicolas and Perenelle shot out water from their wands, which turned into a breeze that fell onto both groups of students, who were now laughing and squealing as they rushed towards their vehicles.

'Hey, Branwen!' Mason turned around and saw Alva and Gentry standing behind him. Some of the students from others schools were giving them passing looks, or whispering to each other. Alva was holding the Triwizard Cup above her head, and Gentry had the same smug smile the first time the three of them were gathered together. He was repelling the water droplets with a sort of invisible umbrella.

'Leaving? Vithout zaying au-revoir?' Gentry asked. 'Oh, 'onestly, Mason, vere are your manners?'

'Well, I was considering ditching you two at breakfast, but the vision of food was too tempting,' Mason replied, giving them a sly grin.

'Truly, an English gentleman to the core.' Alva rolled her eyes and both of them stepped closer. Almost at the same time they'd extended their fists.

'So?' she continued. 'When are we seeing you again?'

'You're not gezing rid of us zat easily, mon ami,' Gentry added.

Mason stared at their gesture. He then sighed and bumped their fists with his only available arm. 'I'll be there, whenever either of you gets into trouble.'

'You rock, Branwen.' Alva moved closer and kissed him on the cheek. 'But don't get cocky,' she whispered into his ear before adjusting her fur coat and leaving the boys behind.

Gentry was first to regain his speech. And his smug smile. 'Vell, vell, vell...'

'Say one more word, Frenchie… One more word, I dare you!'

The Sue could be one of 'em summoner types. Summoning swords and all. Or she had multiple swords, take your pick.

*cackles*

Everything about Lilianna gave me the worst creepy-crawly feeling down my spine... which I suppose means you accomplished what you meant to do. My heart goes out to Agamemnon. Poor kid. :(

There is one thing I will note, though—why did the Sue leave her sword in Daichi's body rather than taking it with her?

The ending was definitely this piece's strongest point. Kudos for that. :)

Unfortunately, I haven't have the time to write those previous stories that led to their relationship becoming the way it is now, but the lead-in to and the aftermath of that critical event I've been teasing the Board about for some time now will probably explore said relationship in more detail, including its origin and the way these two have gotten to understand each other up until now. We'll see how my PPC writing turns out in 2018!

Thank you for the kind words, and I'm glad you liked it! Unfortunately, since I haven't been able to write pretty much ANYTHING noteworthy PPC-wise this year aside from a couple of interludes and ficlets, mostly related to Falchion and his team, I haven't been able to showcase WHEN Whitney and Backslash's relationship began - but let's just say that it'll start happening after some very critical events I'm still planning which, in-universe, happened on Christmas of 2016, which was actually hinted at in the interlude proper. Their relationship upgrade has been in the works for a while and I've pretty much now spoiled the fact that it's led up to this proposal, but I still have to figure out HOW it began and it has some connections with said critical events, along with Falchion's team. We'll see how my writing muse fares next year if Real Life doesn't obstruct it! ^^;

As for your two nitpicks, "avert" DOES mean "avoid", as in "avert your eyes" being used to mean "don't look". And as for "Whitey", that was a slip of the tongue on Backslash's part during the events of "Good Knight and Good Luck", and he's been using it as an affectionate nickname for her since then.

Thanks for the concrit! (Also, that Sun is creepy.)

I will admit that I could've done better description wise - 6AM copout can be used here. Thanks for givin' me a few pointers, will be sure to take that into account next time. ^-^

Okay, this is not a bad piece. Despite several initials grammar things (or it might just be me being an ESL again), I do like it. Short and creative, especially the jabs taken at the descriptions (I did geniuenly chuckled at the winking Sun... Ughh... creepy). Maybe a little too short, but it always has room for more.

There could've been a little more to Kara's feelings themselves, instead of just stating the obvious. Especially the "Shocked didn't even come close to describing her" part made me think 'Actually, there is some things you could describe her'. Maybe she felt cold, seeing the gruesome scene. Maybe her hands started trembling. Maybe she felt a sour taste in her mouth, holding down a retch. Maybe tears were already rolling down her eyes, as if she knew what was going to happen, despite telling herself otherwise.

Overall, as much as I don't like sad scenes, I don't mind this. You have your idea and you have your established characters. Nothing stops you from doing it! Just like the great Jedi Master Shia said: JUST! DO IT!

Instead of thinking about what you magic can actually do, try thinking about how it actually occurs. So, let us conduct a bit of a case study here. I will use the systems from Fullmetal Alchemist and Eragon. (Say what you will about inheritance cycle, but I do like the magic system for having simple rules, yet allows for some complexity in usage.) Read the last 2 paragraphs if you don't want spoilers.

So first, Fullmetal Alchemist. Alchemy is essentially transmuting one material into another. That answers "what", pretty basic, but not very detailed. But, its the rules and workings of alchemy that gives it detail. Here are a few:
- Alchemy is done via a transmutation circle.
- The transmutation circle can be pre-drawn such as the case of Roy Mustangs gloves.
- Different circles must be drawn for different processes.
- One does not need a circle if they have seen the gate of truth.
- There must be an equivalent exchange, one cannot "create too much from too little"
- A philosopher's stone does not circumvent equivalent exchange, but rather is a source of "cost" that can be used to increase what is created, once it is used up, one can no longer "break" equivalent exchange unless a new one is acquired.
- Philosopher's stones are created from human souls, how long one lasts depends on how many souls it has. The souls get used as a substitute cost.
- A Philosopher's stone can be split into many portions so long as each portion contains at least 1 soul.
- The cost of alchemy is payed through the gate of truth which exists in every person
- One can no longer perform alchemy if they lose their gate.
- And so on and so forth...

As for Eragon, magic is a real physical effect invoked by a spell. And like a detailed magic system, it has rules:
- Spells are spoken in the ancient language.
- What is said in the language is what happens.
- Spells can be as long as need be for precision.
- Spells cost as much energy as it would have required if the effect was done manually.
- Overexerting oneself results in death.
- One can outsource energy cost to other living things.
- One can store energy in precious stones.
- Grammar is important.

So, as you can see, what gives magic detail isn't what the magic can do, but how the magic works. A good analogy is physics. What makes physics complicated isn't what it is, but is the absurd number of rules and concepts that it has, laws of physics such as Newton's laws of motion, Maxwell's equations, particle-wave duality etc. Similarly, to add detail to your magic, you could create a set of rules, the laws of magic, if you will. Once you do have a set of laws, you can then extrapolate some gimmicks the magic might have. For example, in Eragon, instead of saying "die" a magic user could say "sever his carotid artery" instead to save energy. The end result is the same, but the cost is different.

As for the races, spicing it up isn't really necessary since this is urban fantasy. One trait of the genre is that creatures that appear in myths have been living along side us all this time. But, there is a way to differentiate from high fantasy and that is to diversify your races, essentially make it less homogenized. How might orcs from different areas of the world have developed differently? This also happens to solve the region problem in my previous post, just make regional variants of existing races that somewhat match mythical descriptions. For example, you could say that Rakshasas are simply a variant of Oni. Just an idea.

I just put a couple minutes into working on it, and looking at other people's, I sorta realized I could've made it longer. I was struggling to find some content at the end, but next time I bet I'll be able to close it off right.

((All Beta'd by Larf except the ending.))

"When'll you be back then?" Kara asked, worried.

"Relax, Kar! Daichi's just going to scout out this place, we'll be able to take the Sue in a bit." he smirked, unfazed by the dangerous world around him.

"Okay. . ." Kara sighed. "Don't do anything stupid, you hear?"

Daichi chuckled and started walking. "Daichi's not going to do anything silly, don't worry Mum!"

I'm not that old. Kara smirked. Not sure why we grew to like each other as partners. By all means, I should've hated him.

Kara sat down at their campfire, and made sure everything was in order, that no forest fire was going to start like the last time she entrusted a campfire to Daichi. She looked up to the stars produced by the Words - she would've started counting them, but examining the odd way in which they were described proved to be more interesting, she could've sworn the stars had eyes. It was odd, indeed, sparkling eyes that kept blinking. It seemed like every eye was fixated on something and nothing at the same time. Kara wasn't sure whether to be horrified or fascinated.

Dusk was soon to give way to night, the whole forest seemed to have gone to sleep. The whole forest. . . except Kara. She wanted to wait just a bit longer for Daichi - something felt terribly wrong, like a knife to the chest. The 'stars' in the sky started tearing, emulating rain -
it made it impossible for Kara to search for Daichi.

Just hit the hay already, we've been at this for years, Daichi's fine. Kara twisted and turned in her makeshift bed. He's fine you crazy old lady. He's fine. He's got to be fine.

After hours of twisting and turning, hours of convincing herself Daichi was fine, hours of imagining all the horrible things that could've went wrong, Kara managed to sleep.

To her delight - it would've been surprising if it wasn't a Word World - she woke up to a bright, sunny day. With an air of optimism, even the sun itself winked at her. Although, now that it was in broad daylight, it was quite the harrowing sight. Kara made a mental note not to look at the sky anymore.

Just as she was about to settle into her usual groove, she looked over at Daichi's bed and panicked, she looked left to right but. . . Daichi was nowhere to be seen. Oh my. . where is he? He should've been back by now. . . maybe he's ju-

Her thoughts were interrupted by a yelp in the distance.

It can't be. . . Kara's adrenaline levels spiked, her mind was going haywire.

She wasn't thinking. She was moving. The trees around her turned into a blur. Her eyes barely kept up with how fast she was going. She saw Daichi. She saw blood.

Daichi was gasping for air, a Suvian sword impaled into his chest. He couldn't move. The best he could do was tilt his head slightly, coughing up blood in the process, to look at Kara. Shocked didn't even come close to describing her, no word could come close to describing how she was feeling nor how she looked. She sat next to Daichi and held his hand, hoping that would somehow pull the sword out of him, that this was all a horrible nightmare.

"K-kara. . ." Daichi blurted. "Daichi's not going to. . . die, right? Daichi's going to be. . . okay, right?" his eyes were dull, he wasn't even looking at Kara anymore.

"You'll be okay, Daich. I promise!" Kara was doing her best to soothe him. "J-just hang in there. . . hang in there. . . please."

"Daichi's not feeling... Daichi's not feeling so well. . . don't leave. . . Daichi. . . please." he pleaded, not knowing Kara's state.

"I'm not leaving, Daichi! We're partners. . . partners 'til the end. . . come on. . . just hang in there for me." Kara cried out.

Daichi moved his hand to touch Kara's cheek, still not looking at her. "I think. . . I think this is the end, Kara." a slight smiled formed on his face. "It's been. . . fun. . . being partners. Sorry. . . I couldn't've been a better. . . a better partner. . ." Daichi's hand fell limply. He took his last breath.

Kara wanted to say something, anything. . . but all she could do was sob. Sit there, blame herself, and cry.

She was alone. . .

Alone again.

“Ready, get set, go!”

Radin is running like hell. However, he is already left behind by most of the other contestants. The spectacled nerd keeps running even when his three fellow competitors are already wheezing from exhaustion. They gave their all for the hundred meter dash.

The time keeper stops his clock as Radin, the last person passes the white line. “Eleven point zero seven seconds, 2 marks.”

Someone Radin didn’t know slaps his back. “You are so smart, why don’t you run faster?”

Radin could not listen to the comment, his ears are throbbing with the heartbeat. Many people Radin didn’t know congratulates him for his time, even the fastest runner, who is also the school athlete. What’s his name? Radin surely had heard of it, but he can’t remember.

“You ARE the fastest.”

Ah yes, he can remember the athlete’s nickname. “Ped”.

Everyone laughs. They chat with each other while Radin keeps smiling. He keeps an interest on their chat though. He can’t understand most of what they are talking about, a dragon and a ball or something. He himself is a fan of a story where people being eaten by parasites taking over heads. But no one understands what cartoon he is talking about.

Noon comes, and the middle school event closes. House Red gains the highest marks and are accorded the main prize hamper. As a member, Radin is given a small bag of chips. He walks home to his house. ‘Ped’ sneaks upon him from behind.

“Oi, Radin!”

“Astagha!” Radin turns to his back.

‘Ped’ is smiling, his hands holding Radin’s shoulders.

“You are quite strong, still being able to walk home after running.”

“And you? You were the fastest back then.”

‘Ped’ hugs him even closer, stopping their walk. “You are fast too, only your start is slow.”

Radin rubs the back of his neck, his face red with shame even if his lips can’t stop smiling. “OK. Eh, where is your house?”

“Taman Ria. It’s to the left junction at the hospital.”

Radin nods a little. “I see.”

‘Ped’ lets go of Radin. “You want icecream?”

Radin’s face is white as chalk. “Sorry I can’t, have to go home immediately.”

‘Ped’ looks dejected. They walk for a few more minutes before ‘Ped’ look Radin right in the eye. “Well, I have to go that way.”

“OK, bye Ped.” Radin sprints away from ‘Ped’ as fast as he can.

Radin can hear ‘Ped’ shouting something, but Radin can’t hear it. There is only one thought in Radin’s brain, “When will I see you again?”

AN: This concerns one of my TYH characters who may show up in a proper fic at some point. For now, here's his opening story.

===

DMSE&R's halls were a forbidding place. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye, perhaps it was psychosomatic, but even the slab-sided walls of Generic Surface seemed darker and more claustrophobic than anywhere else in HQ. Occasionally there would be a doctor or two wandering past, fresh from conducting medical experiments in front of live audiences of students frantically taking notes with stationery stained with glitter. The overall effect of the teaching hospitals was akin to Emily The Strange taking over Lisa Frank, a pairing that the DBS had dealt with on multiple occasions (to no-one's great surprise).

As another class filed out into the corridors, talking about the lecture and brushing errant red sparkles off their jackets, an unlikely figure pushed through them. He was a human boy of around fourteen, though his exact age was difficult to determine. The manner of his dress was unusual too; with his buff overcoat, dark green jacket, cream waistcoat, white muslin shirt, elaborately knotted cravat, top boots, stout cane, and actual honest-to-God pantaloons, he looked like he had stepped out of a Jane Austen novel. The primary reason for this was because he had done exactly that -- or at least, he would have done, had Jane Austen been given to writing urban fantasy novels.

As he made his way slowly through the crowd, the lecturer espied a blank space where would normally be a head, or at the very least some intimidating manner of pseudopodia. He made his way through the crowd and bade the lad a good morning, greeting him with the forced airiness and overfamiliarity that characterises interaction between the old and the young. The lecturer, whose dangling security pass read Dr. Ian Greville as much for his own benefit as that of anyone else, directed the young man surely through the crowd and down a long and ill-lit set of stairs. He laid an arm around the boy's shoulders and gave no indication that it caused obvious disquiet.

Several security doors, a few passwords, and three different DNA samples later, Dr. Greville took his leave, clapping the boy heartily on the shoulder as he did so. It is to be hoped that the Doctor did not notice him brush that shoulder and roll it gently, as if removing an ache from it; if he did, as with his earlier preoccupation with seeming fatherly rather than being respectful, he made not the slightest show of it.

The young man walked hesitantly down the corridor, the silver heel of his dark oak walking-cane clicking nervously past beds with unearthly occupants kept behind closed blue hospital curtains of cheap and non-specific manufacture. Occasionally, they twitched as he walked past; he did not start at such times, but the sum of it caused a bead of sweat to appear at his brow. He dabbed at it with a handkerchief but did not stop to do so; such expressions were a weakness that might be exploited, were his enemies given the option. While it might be thought odd that a boy of his obvious youth should be so concerned with those that should do him harm, he had done the majority of his growing-up in a very short space of time and surrounded by peers who had done so in even less.

The time came. He stopped and waited by the blue curtains for a heartbeat, then two, then three. A sharp rap of his cane produced a loud knock, most unusually for curtains of even the thickest manufacture but quite normal for the plates of Generic Surface behind them. The curtains pulled back and revealed a door, as well as a small slot for his finger. One brief sting and a "DNA Verified" later, he knocked again.

"Door's open~! Teehee!"

And suddenly it was, the twin panels sliding into the wall with a contented-sounding hiss. They revealed a four-poster bed with hot pink furnishings and glittering gold and silver curtains, a small wardrobe, and a mirror with a slogan of some description written on it in lipstick of the same violently red hue as the electric signage outside an Amsterdam brothel. Sat on the side of the bed was a slender woman, heavily made up with too-dark eyeshadow over too-pale foundation and with lips of a neon purple hue that matched the streak in her jet-black, feathery hair. Her enormous bosom was crammed into a bright pink T-shirt (possibly with the aid of three stout longshoremen wielding crowbars) while over it she wore a short leather jacket; to complete the outfit, she wore grey denim trousers of a fit that made inexpressibles look positively Puritan and neon-pink ankle boots, the backs of which were covered in silver studs, including the stiletto heels. At his entry, she beamed, and rushed over to give the young man a hug as he stepped inside, the door locking behind him.

"Sweetie! I didn't realize you were coming over today!"

"Mother," the young man said stiffly.

"Aw, I told you, call me Lily or Anna~! Or both! That's my name, after all~! Mother makes me look over my shoulder, y'dig?"

"Nevertheless," he said, "I feel... uncomfortable calling you anything else, Mother. I am sorry if this slights you."

"Oh, you so get that from your dad." Lilianna sat down heavily on the bed again, kicking her legs out in a petulant manner. "An' I told you, don't apologise. 'S'not like you did anything wrong, A."

"If you insist."

Lilianna patted the side of the bed next to her. "Siddown, boi~! Mama's got some catchin' up to do!"

The young man took of his coat and hung it neatly on the mirror's stand, careful not to let it touch the lipstick. He then took the indicated seat, his cane resting on the pink duvet.

"Soooooo? What's cookin', good lookin'~? That, by the way? That's all my side. Only thing of your dad's in you is his dress sense, which, like, is suuuuuper uncool. Guess ya gotta expect that from someone who called their kid Agamemnon. No offence."

Agamemnon forced himself not to roll his eyes. "You gave none, Mother. Your words are kindness itself, as always."

"Aww, you're such a sweetheart, A~! You get that from me too!"

"Indeed, Mother."

"So, whatcha wanna talk about? Oooh, are ya having girl trouble? Don't do anything Mama wouldn't do~! Wink!" Lilianna favoured him with a shining white grin.

"... No, Mother, though your concern for my romantic wellbeing is touching." Agamemnon fought another urge, this time to back away at ever-increasing speed. "I... that is to say, Father and I... we have some questions on a subject, and we were hoping you might be so good as to favour us with answers."

"Ohhhh, now I get it! Your dad's stuck on another magic problem, isn't he~? Y'know, for a guy with as many books as he has, he doesn't read a whole bunch, does he? The answer's prolly in those. Has he tried the Book of Shadows? Of course not. He can't read it, because he's not part of my family, and I'm preeeeeeetty sure he's not the daughter of the Moon Goddess. Teehee!"

Agamemnon forced a laugh; more of a bark really, but Lilianna failed to discern the difference and smiled at him anyway, laughing like a mountain stream (gurgling, and with fluid in uncomfortable places) all the while.

Eventually, Agamemnon made himself speak again. "I shall recommend that to Father the next time a problem of some such nature arises. However, it is a question of an entirely separate nature with which I come to you."

"Oh? Is it where babies come from?" Lilianna's gaze grew sultry, and she leaned in to run a finger over his cheek. "'Cause, y'know, if you weren't my baby I could show you, baby bo-"

"It concerns my childhood!"

There was silence for a moment. Agamemnon had a fearful air about him, and it was a few moments before he noticed he had stood up; indeed, he had leaped to his feet as if assailed with hot needles and his skin was ashen. He could still feel the finger on his cheek, even as Lilianna pouted at him from the bed with a hurt expression and a gleam in her eye he told himself was just glitter, just glitter.

He sat down again, hurriedly attempting to compose himself. "It concerns my childhood, Mother. And I am... sorry, for starting at your touch."

"I told ya, kiddo, don't apologise." She then let out an odd false cough that Agamemnon furiously told himself sounded like anything other than the word 'prude'. "Anyway, I can definitely help with that. Shoot!"

"Well..." Agamemnon crossed and uncrossed his legs, then caught himself, glaring at them until they stilled. "I am afraid I don't remember the least thing about it. Nor does Father, I am afraid to say."

Lilianna raised her eyes heavenward in supplication. "Ugh. Yeah, of course he won't remember anything about it. He's a totally self-obsessed narcissistic douchenoodle. And he's way worse at magic than me. And he's way worse at everything than me."

Agamemnon could not speak, and merely nodded. The muscles in his neck were so tense their shape could be seen through his collar and mildly distorted the shape of his cravat.

"But yeah," Lilianna continued, "while your dad was busy being super lame, you had a happy childhood with me~! We did eeeeeeverything together. I watched you climb trees in Arendelle-"

"Perenelle," Agamemnon corrected out of habit, then looked up in carefully-hidden fright.

"-Whatever. I watched you dance in balls, I watched you run around and play... all that good stuff. Like I said, we did everything together~! We even bathed together. Ooh, now there's a little somethin' I could stand to try again." She leaned in towards him again, licking her lips, dull, mottled pink on vivid purple.

All colour drained from Agamemnon's face, and he reached into his pocket and set off a small beeper. "Ah! My alarm!" He spoke quickly, each word scurrying out of his mouth like a hunted rabbit. "I fear I have utterly lost track of time, Mother. I have class to attend and Mr. Figgis is most unkind to late-comers! I beg your indulgence in letting me take my belongings and leave?"

"Oh, sure! If ya gotta go, ya gotta go. Hurry baaaack, pretty boy mine!"

"You may depend upon it," said Agamemnon, inwardly cursing his politeness. Even without her influencing his mind, he found it near-impossible to say no to her. He quickened his pace, ignoring the smudge of lipstick on the lapel of his overcoat and the tremble of his hand as he reached for his cane. The DNA lock beeped again and the door hissed open, though it had taken him a few tries to provide the blood sample, so chill were his veins.

"Kiddo. Can I be serious for a moment?"

Just as he was about to leave, her tone made Agamemnon stop and turn to face her.

"When... when are ya gonna come visit again?"

When you're better. When I'm better. When you're a kind mother from a fairy tale, not a Suvian in season from a past that only theoretically existed. When I've put it off for long enough. When I've steeled myself enough for it. When I don't think it will hurt as much as the last time, or the time before, or the time before.

"Soon," he replied.

Lilianna sat on the bed after the door closed, listening to the boy's stick click, click, click away.

...And I mean it. Thank you. All of you. Yes, even you.

You made this a heck of a lot easier than it could have been. You all helped me, some of you more than you even realize. And... Gah. Jeez. I forgot where I was going with this...

I guess, just... wow. I am so glad to have you all. Because it could be so much worse. And if I hadn't shown up here, it probably would have been.

The only thing I would change is I would break up that wall of text at the bottom. I liked how we didn't need a whole lot of backstory on these characters to understand what was going on.

1. I'm pretty sure that both Wattpad and Quotev let you get accounts for free. I think. They're online-based. I have a lot of friends who use one or both (and none of them are Lemmings, because I drive Lemmings nuts. Remember what Quotev is called on the Wiki? ;P)
   
   2. That's not good. Have you checked your WiFi or anything? (Or it could be that Google Docs is just spazzing out on you locally. I've had that "connection issues" thing happen to me as well at times, although not recently.)

((Introducing a character who's been bouncing around in RPs but hasn't made a canon appearance. Not yet, anyway.))

"Do you think you'll ever come back?"

Dax took a moment to finish tying the fastenings on her rucksack, blinking back the tears. "I hope so," she finally said, turning around. "Maybe once I've finally found someplace that would be safe for us to live."

Her father sighed and shook his head. "It's a nice thought, but an impossible dream at best. Once a year, love, please?"

Dax shrugged. "I dunno. If I can get a job on a skyship like I'm hoping, then that might not always be possible."

"As often as you can manage, then," her mother (well, her other father, but also her mother—it was complicated) said, kissing her on the forehead. "You know where to find us."

Dax nodded, throwing her arms around her mother. "I'm going to miss you," she sniffled, fighting back the lump in her throat.

Her father put his arms around the two of them and held them close. "We're going to miss you, too," he said. "But we knew this day would come, sooner or later. Even as a child, we knew you'd rather leave than stay in the tribe."

Dax pulled back slightly, leaving just her hands resting on her parents'. "You're not going to ask me to stay?"

"Why would we?" her mother said. "Your life is much more important than whatever worry we might feel." She wrapped an arm around her mate's waist. "And we know you're more than capable of looking out for yourself. So." She took Dax's face in her hands. "Get out there and show the world what you're made of."

And there were the tears. Dax ducked her head, shoulders beginning to shake as they embraced once more. "Love you guys," she choked out.

"Love you too, sweetheart," her father murmured. He took a step back, wiping his eyes. "Be safe out there."

Welcome to the PPC!

Theatre kid? You're a friend of mine, whether you're onstage or off. Have some rainbow anodes!

"When will I see you again?"

I stopped walking, just as I was about to go through the front door. I turned to face my former best friend, my former partner, my former lover.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to bring myself to see you ever again."

I continued out the door, and onto the street. It'd been a long five years. But being lied to, cheated on, stolen from, gossiped about, and every other horrible thing on that list, I had to leave. I just had to. No matter what I was to him, he is nothing to me now. I hailed a cab. I asked for the nearest airport, and I booked a flight somewhere faraway. I needed a vacation, and I had his credit card. There was enough money in my bank account to set me up nicely wherever I decided to land, and I had a large amount of training experience in the tech industry to land me a decent job, if not an excellent one. I thought about calling my mom. It's one of those things that you don't really think about, you know? Calling a parent and telling them that "Hey, I just left New York and my husband and now I'm starting a new life somewhere else." I figured people only did that in the movies, but no. I called her. I'm sure we spent what must have been an hour talking, and another hour after that of me just bawling my eyes out. I'm not proud of that, but I honestly did feel better afterwards. I'm never going to see these people in this lobby ever again, so why care? My flight was booked to California. Apparently has good beaches and good booze. I'll be okay. I'll move on, I will drink till I forget, and drink till I forget that I drank to forget. And that's okay. I picked an aisle seat. And I'm going to listen to my favorite music all the way there. And then I will live my own happy ending.

Unfortunately, I'm not sure how to implement details to the magic system. Maybe magic can be implemented in a variety of ways? I'm going for the "Magic A is Magic A" approach, would that help. I will keep your ideas for Magitek in mind, too.

As for the races idea, eh, I probably won't implement all of them. I am aware that it's all kinda cliché. Any ideas to spice them up?

Keep in mind that I'm still working out all the details, I just want some feedback.

Thanks again!

I meant to say something along these lines last week, but Christmas and paperwork for my new job got in the way. Not that you needed to know that.

Anyhow, after some thinking on... stuff, I decided I liked the prompt writing that went on a couple of weeks ago and decided to give people a new prompt and see how that goes. And, after some thinking, here it is:

"When will I see you again?"

Well go wild with it. Pour out your creative imaginations and see what you can come up with. However after you are done please pour your creative imaginations back into their respective containers, let's try not to make a mess here.

Novastorme

No, but I might. Are they free to download?

As for the Google Docs issue, apparently I'm having connection issues and it's driving me bonkers.

I don't know what the deal is, it won't let me make any edits, hence why I've been forced to take other methods.

(Because I couldn't think of a subject line.)

1. Finicky creature indeed. Sometimes I can't even practice for some reason or other, and it's not because I don't take care of my instrument. Most recently, one of the keys had a sticky pad and it was causing a lot of my notes to be out of tune. It was annoying.

2. Ah, nice. Well, hopefully you might have ideas eventually. If not, you can still hang with us as a writing and beta-ing group.

3. Oh boy. I have been told so many times to watch Gravity Falls (among other things), but then I always end up forgetting to start. From the outside, it looks pretty cool, though, and like it had a lot of thought put into it with all the interesting puzzles they leave for the viewers to solve!

4. You can try to, but as far as I know it only does things to living beings (usually sapient beings, but it's been known to work on animals that are coincidentally popular in the media, such as wolves and dragons.) It doesn't cause any physical destruction, but if the wrong people have an effective enough plan to use it, it could end society as we know it. Through what, I'll wait to see if I can reveal. See if it does anything to objects it touches - I don't want anything unethical to happen (all my observations of its actions were based on circumstances outside my control), and I haven't done anything with objects yet.

-Twistey

Those aren't blocked on my machine, and I'm planning to eventually get an account for one or the other soon.

Also, do you know some of the details of what's up with your Google docs? It's not on the server side, evidently, as my Google docs has been working fine, so I'm wondering if I can help you figure out what's going on. (Probably too big a task for me, since I don't have quite as much computer experience as I wish, but I seriously can't walk away from most opportunities to help someone out. :P)

-Twistey

*joins you in the fantasy trash can* Here's a set of cat-shaped sticky notes, some popcorn to eat or throw at Sues, and a tape dispenser because why not. Glad you decided to introduce yourself here! :)