the forestverse is an assortment of short stories & flash fiction that play in a universe centered in and around The Forest. most of these stories are completely independent of each other, those which are not can still be read & enjoyed as standalones. stories sorted in order of me writing them <3
breaking out of darkness, finding it between us instead
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Excerpt written for @flashfictionfridayofficial 's weekly prompt.
Her skin remained stubbornly cold and gray as she stared down at her hands. Like the statues lining the halls outside with their ever accusing eyes. Like the light-less stones on her desk. Empty and lifeless and useless.
A knock on the door had her pulling the white gloves back on. “Enter.” She straightened the dress and her hair as well, before catching sight of Ava stepping inside, and letting herself relax instead. “Ava. Was there something you needed?”
“Your Grace?”
Din’s hands braced on the desk.
The words, even as soft as they were, cut to her heart. Those same words over and over and over again.
“How many times must I say it, dear?” She said over her shoulder with a slight laugh.
Dutiful as ever, Ava had stopped just inside the door, not even daring to enter further. Her hands folded in front of her, her head bowed. “I am your handmaiden, Your Grace.”
“And what does that matter, Ava?” Din snapped, spinning to fully face her. “Have I ever put space between us?”
Violet eyes met hers, brows furrowing as a strange emotion flickered across the normally stoic face. “I am Haven’s daughter by blood.”
“So what? I don’t care!”
“You should, Your Grace–”
“Say my name!”
Ava's hand clenched, and her eyes hardened. But she didn’t. She didn't say anything in fact. No, the perfectly trained and loyal handmaiden chose to look at the floor again. Instead of her.
After telling her what she should do. How she should behave.
Who she should be.
“Get out.”
Avameena didn’t move.
“Get out! I said to leave and that’s an order!”
Flinching, she gave a simple nod, still not looking up, and after the briefest pause, left.
The door closing was a physical blow that had Din falling to her knees. Her own mind even playing tricks on her, as, almost lost in the soft thud, she swore she heard Ava’s voice whisper, “I’m sorry, Din.”
Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt 364: Say My Name
[Summary: he's afraid, but he's no coward]
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says, very calmly. Too calmly. Like the eye of a storm passing overhead: the world’s been raging and now it’s deadly still, and he’s left with a sinking feeling in his gut and a bite mark on his lip. He can’t take it back. He shouldn’t take it back either. His nervous system is quivering, denoting his fear, but his feet aren’t turning, his knees not crashing so there’s this: he’s afraid, but he’s no coward.
“What?” He tilts his chin up, not in bravado – she can surely see how he’s shivering – so it’s in defiance of his shakes. “Said your name?” Commanded you, he doesn’t say. Made you stop, he doesn’t say. I won’t let you be a coward, he also doesn’t say yet it’s obvious. He’s standing despite all the threat her calm means – the eye of a storm only lasts so long before it’s all crashing down again and he’s prime to take the full force of it – and she was the one beating a retreat. Abandoning them.
Her eyes don’t flash. Worse. They’re a dead flat. His guts no longer sink, they spasm. An innate animal part of his brain saying we should run. This is dangerous.
But her leaving is dangerous too, and someone’s got to do it.
“Are you stupid?” So calm, still so calm.
“You have to help.” His voice trembling but his legs standing. “I’ve called you now. You can’t shirk your duty.” Like you were trying to, another unsaid thing that’s obvious; they’re halfway down the street. As abandoned as she’d have left them, a few street lights making bright pools. Moonshine lengthening their shadows. Does the night make her calm feel worse? He thinks so. Night is a biological fear, because that’s where the predators come out. He’s alone with her. He’s angered her. His brain’s age-old instincts are telling him she’s right, he is stupid.
“I already told you, I can’t.”
“Won’t.”
He flinches at the way her eyes go flatter. Danger, danger. If he ran now she’d catch him anyway. He needs her either way. He needs her power, her responsibility, her attempt. It shouldn’t really matter if the eye passes and crushes him to paste on the way. As long as she does what he needs her to do, what he’s invoked her name to make her do. Forbidden to say because it’s a nasty trick, forcing someone. Forbidden to say because someone who’s pissed will always need to take it out on someone and if you’re the one who uttered it, well. It shouldn’t matter, yet he’s terrified of it, and not terrified enough to have stopped himself. In a way, he’s stronger than her, an absolute insanity he’ll feel if she decides to take some revenge before doing as she has to.
Her mouth thins. It looks somehow sharper, a knife.
“So you’ve forced my hand, is it? You’ve chosen to overrule my assessment of the situation.”
“We need you,” and he’s desperate in tone and his heart is desperate in beats as if counting them down. “This is your duty, and we need you, and I wouldn’t have had to do it this way if you’d just done your job first.”
“All you have done,” she tells him, calm enough that it’s cold now; he can almost feel the rain of that storm coming closer, closer, the eye getting nearer to passing. She’ll snap, he’ll fall but she’ll have to go back and try. It’s worth it but fuck he wishes he was a coward now, in the face of it, shaking worse than an autumn leaf, “is guarantee that I will be at risk along with the rest of you. I told you already that I couldn’t.”
“You haven’t even tried.” Her face twitches; he keeps on. “You haven’t even tried, and if you’re at risk too as a consequence, well, isn’t that your whole job? Isn’t that what our whole deal with you is? I only said your name because you’ve forgotten that. You’ve let your fear get you.”
“And you’re brave, is it?” She takes in his shaking form, his clenched fists. It’s concrete underneath his feet, will that make it hurt more?
“I only did it because I had to,” he whispers. His voice cutting out a little. There’s something to the way she’s looking at him. Sizing him up, maybe. He’s never liked pain. His feet aren’t moving though, he’s not even going to try running. He’s going to wait and tremble about it, isn’t going to risk her trying to find a way out of the summons, and it’s not because he’s brave, it’s because he’s stupid and impulsive and right.
She keeps looking at him. The calmness is banking away from her. He can taste it like ozone in the air. Shut your eyes, he wills himself and doesn’t. He doesn’t want to be a coward at any point of this. Even as she steps forward. Even as his ears begin to roar with the returning storm, shaking him deep to his core. Her shadow darkens over him. His swallow echoes through his bones, perhaps the last sound he’ll ever make. She’s within a breath of him. He can’t see her eyes anymore.
Then she steps to the side, her shoulder checking his.
“Come along, brave boy,” she says while he almost melts to the floor. “If you’ve called me to act, it’s only right that you get in the thick of it with me. Then we’ll see how sturdy your constitution really is.”
She starts to walk past him. Back to where she should be going. He lets out a wretched breath. His lashes wet.
But she’s going where she should.
And he’s alive. For now.
He turns and follows her, desperately afraid but with something starting to spark in his gut. It’s tiny, an ember, but it looks like victory.
One of the best false friends in English-German is self-conscious / selbstbewusst imo. It's the exact same word but while in English, being conscious of oneself is a bad feeling that holds hands with insecure and vulnerable, in German being conscious of oneself means to be confident and trusting ones abilities. In English, one is conscious of one's faults, in German one is conscious of one's strengths.
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Jeden Tag hagelt es neue Schlagzeilen, was uns der Wirtschaftsflügel der CDU, Bundeskanzler Merz sowie konservative Wirtschafts- und Arbeitg
Hier gibt's ne Liste der Demos in einigen deutschen Städten gegen die beschissene Sozial-Reform und den anderen Mist den die Regierung gerade treibt.
Ich mach mir ja Sorgen dass nicht genügend Leute von den Demos wissen, aber vorhin haben sie im lokalen Radio verkündet, dass es am Samstag im Stadtzentrum voll werden wird, wegen dieser Demo.
yeah idk. cw for violence (though nothing truly explicit), 300 words, it's past midnight and i am actually too sleepy to write @flashfictionfridayofficial
I barely have to move my sword. The power it channels directly springs from my body and what once was 'too much' and 'foreign' and 'forbidden' now just feels like a grown muscle. I'm not the first to be successful in mastering a forbidden art. Others have done it before me. So many have used it to oppress. So many have used it and perished.
I? I have found a middle-ground. There are certainly people dying around me. I am killing them. And there is, without a doubt, a part of me that is also dead. Whether it is a consequence of the killing or the price I paid for the power cannot be answered. Isn't it the same difference, anyway? Who would care?
Blood splatters on my black robes and my sword runs through my enemies with a red gleam. I just have to think it and the power responds. It is easy to understand why the power corrupts so many, why others suffocate under its weight. With each death, I also die.
Still worth it, I think before something grabs me.
I am yanked back into an embrace, so strong I find myself immobile. A sharp pain runs through my wrist and the sword drops from my grasp.
A whispered name in my ear only rouses annoyance within me.
"Let me go", I say.
"Never", the person behind me says. It would be easy to overpower them. So easy.
So why don't I?
"You've already won. You can stop now. Stop and come back." They hold me tighter.
But my heart still beats so fast and and my breath is still so shallow.
"Come back to me, Margo."
And finally I recognize the voice, the arms that are holding me, the name.
✨ You can say many things, but today we just want to hear the magic words:
It's Flash Fiction Friday and it's time to write!
✨ New to FFF? Let us fill you in!
Flash Fiction Friday is a fun writer event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!
We always do our very best to keep the prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.
Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit. This means that your text is newly written for the prompt by you. We do not allow any contributions created or aided by AI/LLM.
Post on your tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!
Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
Tag your fandoms correctly and remember we now have an Ao3 collection (‘FlashFictionFriday’) ✨
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that glorify: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF364 Say My Name]
This prompt has been brought to you by someone who wishes to remain anonymous; thank you very much! Names are such a big part of our self, our identity. It's not a coincidence that they hold so much power in many magical realms! Tell us about what it means to your character if someone says their name. Is it validating? Revealing? Binding? Is the name spoken with love or hatred? Fear or happiness? Whatever a name means to you, we want to know all about it, so go and get writing NOW!
a view on timeloops as a storytelling-device and trope
hi, ho, hello! i have some thoughts on timeloops! what are timeloops? what is the fun of them, what are the challenges when writing them? there certainly are many timeloops that don't (entirely) match my notes, this is a very basic view on them. i hope my ramblings make sense, feel free to disagree and add your thoughts ⬇✨
timeloops on a formal level:
timeloops can be A) man-made (as a conscious decision to time-travel) or B) fate (as a higher power that the characters cannot influence); either way, the protagonist's power to influence the time-loops is often very limited
based on a video-game logic: if certain conditions are not met, you have to start at the beginning
the conditions can be obvious but hard to achieve, or be rather vague (and hence also hard to achieve); if it's obvious, the tension often has a more dramatic character. the question that needs to be answered is how? how will the character(s) achieve XY? this tends to be more plot-focused; if the conditions are vague, the tension lies within the question of why? and what? the timeloop itself takes on a role within the story and poses a mystery. this version tends to be more character-focused.
roughly, the condition often is the change the character has to go through/the growth/the sacrifice they have to make
usually, only a few people are conscious of the timeloop, often even just one.
timeloops on a content/plot level:
the protagonist is often the looping character. they usually start the timeloops with a déjà vu
once the protagonist understands that they're looping, they start to investigate the mystery and the desire to escape the timeloop is strong and motivation is high
either their investigation lets them understand that they can't escape alone (usually version A) or it turns out fruitless (B), this would be (optionally) the stage where they try to get help -> they try to convince a new person of the timeloop's existence, or find another person who is also looping, ...
more attempts at solving the timeloops are made, often with increasing desperation and decreasing motivation
sooner or later, there's a turning point in which the timeloop starts to become more tangible. there often is more distance between the real world and the protagonist while the protagonist often gets closer to the timeloop. instead of working against the timeloop, characters often start to see advantages of looping. the real world doesn't exist anymore to them. what does it matter if others die? they'll be alive again in the next loop. this is a fundamental change in the character and the process that kickstarts the overall character-growth. while time stands still for everyone else, the protagonist changes and grows and this only enhances the process of alienation to the real world and the merging with the timeloop.
at this point, hopelessness takes the focus. whether the conditions of the timeloop get harder to achieve or the character deteriorates morally -- whatever happens, tension is often built up by time becoming relevant again, even though this is unexpected when time doesn't really exist. but that is often the point, even if it is a small one. in russian doll, for example, we start to see fruit rotting. we know, as the audience, somehow time does progress. new questions are posed: are the loops finite? what if time runs out? what if we can't find whoever is responsible for the loop?; the real problem that the timeloop is based on often unveils here, and instead of it being a help (because now the enemy is known), the situation turns even more hopeless, because the enemy is perceived as invincible.
the character meets the conditions and the timeloop is resolved. this comes sudden? it sometimes is. personally, i find this part really decides whether the story is good or not. quite often, change is kickstarted by the character doing something good despite the perceived senselessness. we've been at the "i can do evil and it doesn't matter, everything will go back to normal tomorrow" so now the big change is often triggered by "i can do good and it doesn't matter, everything will go back to normal tomorrow" and then still choosing to do good. that does not mean that a timeloop's condition is always that the character has to do a good deed in order for the timeloop to stop, but that this is often the tool for the character to see the true condition. that even if it doesn't matter in this unreality, they choose to believe in hope. and with that final push of hope, they then can allow themselves to change. if that makes sense.
timeloops on a thematic level:
themes in timeloops are often pretty on the nose. the timeloop itself often is the big metaphor for depression, learnt helplessness or just a simple way to portray that every day already feels the same under capitalism and nothing i do can change that
the search for meaningfulness
dominant emotions: grief, loneliness, defiance and hope/-lessness
"it was always meant to end this way"
challenges when writing timeloops:
repititions are boring. timeloops, per definition, come with a lot of repititions that the author has to somehow make fun. since the setting and charactersare very limited, they have to be convincing and hooking enough to feed the audience again and again (and again and again and again and again)
a big part of stories is character development. development takes time. this is a challenging process when you cannot that simply introduce new antagonists or have other outer influences that can form and push your characters. they sort of have to do a lot by themselves.
speaking of antagonists: that usually is the timeloop. when the timeloop is not man-made, but rather a product of fate, the antagonist is quite intangible. again, not impossible or anything, but challenging
diversity in plot is somewhat limited by the tight construct a timeloop poses. it's not impossible to create something entirely new, but a lot of common plot-points are expected of it. of course this counts for nearly every genre, but timeloops have a big uniqueness factor? recogniction factor? you know what i mean. there aren't that many timeloop stories out there, so it's easier to compare them to each other
and that's largely it! hope it helps, inspires, is food for thought, whatever ✨have a good day! <3
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Flash Fiction Friday is a fun writer event that’s meant to inspire, share and connect writings of all genres and writers of all ages. It’s designed to make people want to write, especially if they’re feeling blocked. Everyone and everything is welcome!
We always do our very best to keep the prompt’s genre open, entertaining, positive and encouraging.
Write between 100-1000 words. It can be any genre, in any text format and 18+ is fine by us, just please tag accordingly.
Use this Friday’s theme in your text. Any way you see fit. This means that your text is newly written for the prompt by you. We do not allow any contributions created or aided by AI/LLM.
Post on your tumblr blog and remember to tag us at @flashfictionfridayofficial!! So we’ll see it, read it and reblog it!!
Deadline is 24 hours after the prompt has been issued (12 pm CET).
And then, next Friday, we’ll mention your work in a showcase post on our main blog before our next prompt drops.
Please post your entries as regular posts, not screenshots — or provide the text as a regular post as well. Let’s keep everything as accessible as possible!
We ask you to tag your works with any appropriate content warnings and let the reader know what they’ll find before they get the chance to read your work!
If you have a question, check out our FAQ page! If your question isn’t on there, don’t hesitate to ask!
You don’t need to ask for permission or need to get added to a list to join in. Just write, have fun and don’t forget to tag us!
Tag your fandoms correctly and remember we now have an Ao3 collection (‘FlashFictionFriday’) ✨
We do not condone fiction, asks or comments that glorify: direct hostility, unconstructive critique, LGBTQIA+ hate, slurs, racism and/or general no-no behaviors.
If you want to be closer to the epicenter, you can come chat on our open discord: https://discord.gg/rUWCE8a
✨ We also introduced our very own Wishing Well, a place for you to whisper your prompt suggestions into. And we’ll listen! Check everything about it out HERE.
✨All your amazing works from last week can be found HERE.
Go check them out and consider supporting your fellow FFF writers with some likes and reblogs!
✨ And now, the new prompt!
[#FFF363 On Thin Ice]
This prompt has been brought to you by someone who wishes to remain anonymous; thank you very much! Tread carefully now; one wrong move and you'll be in trouble. Just how exactly did you end up in such a precarious situation? What was your goal, what pushed you here? Is it still in your sight while the ice creaks with your every step? And here we are, waiting with bated breath to hear the whole story.
hi ho hello. 545 words, aka boiled-brain-goo, for @flashfictionfridayofficial. went for creating a mood but now it's just dialogue so xD maybe i'll try again another day x)
A handful of moths fought with the naked light of the light bulb. It seemed hopeless. The glass was too strong and impenetrable and Glenn could not help but sigh while watching these dumb critters.
A cracking thunder broke the silence in the warehouse they were hiding in.
"We should abandon our plan", Glenn said, not taking away their eyes from the moths.
Keith scoffed. "Of course you're the first to give up. Can't believe I ever expected anything else."
"I did not say that we should give up."
"Well. Honestly… With Mirko dead and Jenny down, I don't really see any other option but giving up", Miranda admitted and took a deep pull of her cigarette.
Glenn could not help but glancing at Jenny who was still unconscious and fully bandaged up. The memory of all they lost tied their stomach in knots.
"The way I see it," they continued, "we are like those moths. We will keep fighting and fighting against a foe that is ridiculously stronger than us. Untouchable. Invincible. Indomitable—"
"Way of boosting the morale", Miranda grumbled.
"So continuing like this just doesn't make any sense", Glenn said. Let the words settle over the group. Let one more thunder disrupt their thoughts.
"So what are you suggesting then?" Keith asked.
"We need to get a tool that is strong enough to smash the light bulb and then we can fight until death takes either us or them. And I am willing to entertain the thought of us winning, once we created the right circumstances."
"Light bulb", Miranda repeated dryly.
"Well. The light bulb is… A rhetorical choice and stands for the power of our enemies. Obviously."
"And the tool?" Keith asked.
Glenn took a deep breath. "We have been fighting as a group, but our magic is individualistic. If we combine our powers, we can make up for those even who left us—"
"Stop, stop, stop", Miranda interrupted them again. "What you're suggesting is not only dangerous but also forbidden! The power we'd hold would most likely tear us apart and even adding the magic of those who left us… Are you suggesting we just add magic even of those unwilling?"
Miranda's eyes were wild, trained on them.
"Jenny can't fight. But she is the strongest among us. We know that merging powers is cumulative. If we as individuals hold a collective power, we'd be unstoppable."
"What you're suggesting makes sense, but it can't be done", Keith said.
"Can't be done or shouldn't be done?" Glenn looked him in the eyes and found only hesitation.
"What about our integrity?" Miranda asked. "Merging other people's powers with ours… It's undignified. Jenny couldn't even agree to it. Wouldn't we betray our own ethics? Become just like them and stray from the path?" Miranda started to pace, her cigarette forgotten between her fingers.
"The way I see it, we either hold onto our dignity and lose in this fight, or we sacrifice our integrity, ethics, whatever, and be victorious. And honestly, with our friends dead and dying, I do have a preference."
Flashing lights and a booming thunder later, the group had a new plan. A last resort, perhaps, but who cared as long as they were successful?
hi ho hello. 545 words, aka boiled-brain-goo, for @flashfictionfridayofficial. went for creating a mood but now it's just dialogue so xD maybe i'll try again another day x)
A handful of moths fought with the naked light of the light bulb. It seemed hopeless. The glass was too strong and impenetrable and Glenn could not help but sigh while watching these dumb critters.
A cracking thunder broke the silence in the warehouse they were hiding in.
"We should abandon our plan", Glenn said, not taking away their eyes from the moths.
Keith scoffed. "Of course you're the first to give up. Can't believe I ever expected anything else."
"I did not say that we should give up."
"Well. Honestly… With Mirko dead and Jenny down, I don't really see any other option but giving up", Miranda admitted and took a deep pull of her cigarette.
Glenn could not help but glancing at Jenny who was still unconscious and fully bandaged up. The memory of all they lost tied their stomach in knots.
"The way I see it," they continued, "we are like those moths. We will keep fighting and fighting against a foe that is ridiculously stronger than us. Untouchable. Invincible. Indomitable—"
"Way of boosting the morale", Miranda grumbled.
"So continuing like this just doesn't make any sense", Glenn said. Let the words settle over the group. Let one more thunder disrupt their thoughts.
"So what are you suggesting then?" Keith asked.
"We need to get a tool that is strong enough to smash the light bulb and then we can fight until death takes either us or them. And I am willing to entertain the thought of us winning, once we created the right circumstances."
"Light bulb", Miranda repeated dryly.
"Well. The light bulb is… A rhetorical choice and stands for the power of our enemies. Obviously."
"And the tool?" Keith asked.
Glenn took a deep breath. "We have been fighting as a group, but our magic is individualistic. If we combine our powers, we can make up for those even who left us—"
"Stop, stop, stop", Miranda interrupted them again. "What you're suggesting is not only dangerous but also forbidden! The power we'd hold would most likely tear us apart and even adding the magic of those who left us… Are you suggesting we just add magic even of those unwilling?"
Miranda's eyes were wild, trained on them.
"Jenny can't fight. But she is the strongest among us. We know that merging powers is cumulative. If we as individuals hold a collective power, we'd be unstoppable."
"What you're suggesting makes sense, but it can't be done", Keith said.
"Can't be done or shouldn't be done?" Glenn looked him in the eyes and found only hesitation.
"What about our integrity?" Miranda asked. "Merging other people's powers with ours… It's undignified. Jenny couldn't even agree to it. Wouldn't we betray our own ethics? Become just like them and stray from the path?" Miranda started to pace, her cigarette forgotten between her fingers.
"The way I see it, we either hold onto our dignity and lose in this fight, or we sacrifice our integrity, ethics, whatever, and be victorious. And honestly, with our friends dead and dying, I do have a preference."
Flashing lights and a booming thunder later, the group had a new plan. A last resort, perhaps, but who cared as long as they were successful?
hi ho hello. 545 words, aka boiled-brain-goo, for @flashfictionfridayofficial. went for creating a mood but now it's just dialogue so xD maybe i'll try again another day x)
A handful of moths fought with the naked light of the light bulb. It seemed hopeless. The glass was too strong and impenetrable and Glenn could not help but sigh while watching these dumb critters.
A cracking thunder broke the silence in the warehouse they were hiding in.
"We should abandon our plan", Glenn said, not taking away their eyes from the moths.
Keith scoffed. "Of course you're the first to give up. Can't believe I ever expected anything else."
"I did not say that we should give up."
"Well. Honestly… With Mirko dead and Jenny down, I don't really see any other option but giving up", Miranda admitted and took a deep pull of her cigarette.
Glenn could not help but glancing at Jenny who was still unconscious and fully bandaged up. The memory of all they lost tied their stomach in knots.
"The way I see it," they continued, "we are like those moths. We will keep fighting and fighting against a foe that is ridiculously stronger than us. Untouchable. Invincible. Indomitable—"
"Way of boosting the morale", Miranda grumbled.
"So continuing like this just doesn't make any sense", Glenn said. Let the words settle over the group. Let one more thunder disrupt their thoughts.
"So what are you suggesting then?" Keith asked.
"We need to get a tool that is strong enough to smash the light bulb and then we can fight until death takes either us or them. And I am willing to entertain the thought of us winning, once we created the right circumstances."
"Light bulb", Miranda repeated dryly.
"Well. The light bulb is… A rhetorical choice and stands for the power of our enemies. Obviously."
"And the tool?" Keith asked.
Glenn took a deep breath. "We have been fighting as a group, but our magic is individualistic. If we combine our powers, we can make up for those even who left us—"
"Stop, stop, stop", Miranda interrupted them again. "What you're suggesting is not only dangerous but also forbidden! The power we'd hold would most likely tear us apart and even adding the magic of those who left us… Are you suggesting we just add magic even of those unwilling?"
Miranda's eyes were wild, trained on them.
"Jenny can't fight. But she is the strongest among us. We know that merging powers is cumulative. If we as individuals hold a collective power, we'd be unstoppable."
"What you're suggesting makes sense, but it can't be done", Keith said.
"Can't be done or shouldn't be done?" Glenn looked him in the eyes and found only hesitation.
"What about our integrity?" Miranda asked. "Merging other people's powers with ours… It's undignified. Jenny couldn't even agree to it. Wouldn't we betray our own ethics? Become just like them and stray from the path?" Miranda started to pace, her cigarette forgotten between her fingers.
"The way I see it, we either hold onto our dignity and lose in this fight, or we sacrifice our integrity, ethics, whatever, and be victorious. And honestly, with our friends dead and dying, I do have a preference."
Flashing lights and a booming thunder later, the group had a new plan. A last resort, perhaps, but who cared as long as they were successful?
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-verse: Off the Rails
Story: The Circadyne Succession
Heads-Up: Swap to Firsen's POV. Continuation of “Heat of the Moment”, where a rivalry for the ages is forged… as well as some very high-powered Dyne users.
–
How dare she. How DARE she!
He had a good mind to out her right there and then, in front of the entire gathering. For using Dyne during a gathering. For using it secretly, without showing her markings. For using it on another noble. A noble that was his friend.
Ohh, she would be in so much trouble. Rightfully deserved.
An itchy, prickling heat crept up Firsen’s back and neck, threatening a spill-over of Dyne. No, not here, not right now. As much as he wanted to humiliate Lixy, he couldn’t snitch on her in his emotionally charged state, lest he embarrass himself in front of the entire Upper Circuit with an uncontrolled Dyne surge.
Lixy’s eyes were locked with his, a desperate, defiant mix of begging and threatening him not to tell. Firsen tore his gaze away. He felt he might manifest laser beams from his eyes if he glared at her any longer.
Instead, he turned his attention to Calire, who still seemed disoriented. He bent down slightly to meet her at eye level. “Do you want water?” he asked.
“Water…” Calire echoed, slipping out of focus once more. The dark purple had stopped spreading across her feathers, but it was taking time to completely dissolve. “I was going… to get it… for her…”
Firsen gently shushed her with a pat on her shoulders, noticing that heads were turning. Fine, if they wanted something to watch, he’d perform.
He raised his voice just a little bit louder. “No, no, you stay here and rest, I’ll get it for you.” He steered her towards one of the unoccupied side chairs and sat her down in it. “I’ll be right back.”
As he slipped back out into the corridor, he was acutely aware of Lixy’s eyes on him. Probably wondering what he was up to and why he hadn’t exposed her.
Well, I’ve got an image to maintain, too. Chase me if you want, princess.
As he poured out a cup of water, he kept half an eye on the silhouettes behind the frosted glass doors. A flustered figure of silk and shadow was approaching. She’d taken the bait.
He waited until Lixy was but four paces from the door before he swung it open with gusto, nearly hitting the Chiro princess in the face. The two of them collided, resulting in half a glass of cold water spilled down Lixy’s silk robes.
Lixy’s shriek of surprise was music to Firsen’s ears.
“Oh! My apologies, princess,” Firsen said, making a show of trying to squeeze water out of the hem of her skirt. He could feel Lixy’s frustration brewing, much to his satisfaction.
“You don’t need to do that, runir,” she replied with equally contrived cordiality, tugging her skirt out of Firsen’s grasp. “It will dry off in time. I was just going to get a glass of water myself.”
No one to fetch it for you anymore, he wondered, or just an excuse to confront me?
“I need to refill this one anyways.” He looked around, as if just realizing that the meeting had stalled. “Sorry. We’ll take this outside. Just, uh… carry on without us.”
Not like he had been there to contribute in the first place. A mix of chuckles and sighs rippled through the room.
Firsen held the door open for Lixy. “After you, princess.”
“So gracious, runir.”
–
The theatrics dropped the moment they made it to the servants’ corridor.
Firsen grabbed Lixy’s arm and pulled her around the corner. He yanked up her sleeve, revealing trace markings still fading from recent Dyne use.
Lixy gasped, slapping Firsen’s hand away. “Rude!”
“Rude? Me?” Firsen scoffed. “Says the one using Dyne under the table. You can’t just hijack people to do your bidding because there’s no one around to get it for you!”
“Isn’t that what servants are for?” Lixy countered. “And you used your Dyne too, don’t try to hide it. It burned me.”
Firsen gaped, his astonishment momentarily overshadowing his outrage. “Calire isn't a servant, she's my friend! And she's Avie nobility.”
That seemed to shut Lixy up for a moment. Finally, she stammered, “W-well how was I supposed to know that?”
“Maybe if you came to any of the courtyard events, you'd know!”
“It isn't like you don't miss things either! Besides, she wasn’t wearing any of the Great House crests–”
“That isn’t the point. The point is to keep your paws off things that aren’t yours!” Firsen snapped, coming almost nose-to-nose with Lixy. The glow of his flare was reflected in her wide eyes.
He winced as a headache speared through his skull. He was overreacting. Overheating. Time to wrap things up.
“For the record, I wasn’t using Dyne, I was just getting rid of yours. Think twice before you try brainwashing someone stronger than you, or you'll get more than a little burn next time.”
Suddenly, the fear in Lixy’s eyes dissolved, replaced by the knowing glint of someone who had just figured something out.
Firsen took a step back, unnerved. “... what?”
((You think you’re stronger than me?))
That was her voice. But her lips hadn’t moved. They were closed. Yet they tugged upwards at the corner into a self-confident smirk as she hummed a low melody.
((You let your guard down, dragonfly.))
Firsen clapped his hands over his ears. “No. No you don't. Stop it.”
((I almost believed you. Your flare burns bright and hot. It’s hard to approach. But you leave yourself so wide open when you're venting.))
“Get OUT.”
He turned his own Dyne on himself, and it was blazing and it burned but he needed her out of his head.
When his vision cleared, he was on the floor, the lingering itch of a Dyne surge still tingling on his skin. Lixy stood above him, her own markings lit up but her flare looking blown out. She held out a hand.
Firsen turned away with a scowl. “No one's around. Don't even bother.”
She tucked her hand back into her sleeves. “You'd better start practicing getting that under control. Or I'll do you a favor and take it from you.”
With that, she turned on her heel and left.
Well, that didn't go as planned.
Though she wasn’t inside his head anymore, she’d gotten under his skin. Which was just about the same thing.
-
1056 words
And that's how it went down. Highly recommend to read last week's entry before this one since they connect immediately ^^
Also if you saw Calire's version here earlier and wondered where it went, I had written two versions but ended up liking this one more but only just now had the internet connection to swap it out (phone browser tumblr is a quagmire).
i.... i need to know more about the Dynes. please tell me about the Dynes. they're a mental power? they can influence other people to do things? there's a backlash too? 👀
Just kidding, I'm not panicked! Glad you enjoyed it! ^^
I am so happy to explain lore and worldbuilding and magic there's just so much of it floating around unorganized that I have to go "wait Skit, we must be Careful and Not Spoilers and Not Text Walls".
Well. Text walls might be a thing. You can't have lore without text walls.
Okay! So!
I do have a little Lore Drop post already [happy link here] - essentially, Dyne is the magic force of their world. It's not really specific to any sort of power; different individuals can use Dyne for different purposes. Mending, lighting fires, powering devices, binding things, making something hot or cold, etc. ... or brainwashing people, yeah, that works too.
Dyne is part of the atmosphere, and it increases in concentration as you go up in altitude. You need bigger Dyne capacity to live in places with higher Dyne saturation, or it'll overload your systems.
The other thing about capacity; bigger Dyne capacity = more abilities you have access to. If you use it.
Some nobles have really big capacities but don't use it. All it does is just let them live at higher altitudes. So they sit there and look shiny. (And maybe fly around, because flying is a level 5 ability and it looks cool and why pass up a chance to show off, y'know?)
On the other hand, you can have a smaller Dyne capacity but use Dyne a lot. You'd be considered a strong user after some time (just living at lower altitudes).
For example, "mending" is a level 3 ability. Someone just starting out could be able to fix small chips and dents. Someone who's done it for their livelihood for years might piece together something that was fully shattered.
-mini break as I reread the question and realize I answered none of it-
Right, yes, Firsen and Lixy's little Dyne dominance dance!
Dominance is a level 5 ability. It's the one that allows them to mess with each other's heads >:)
Generally, it's rude to use dominance over others of equal status (and still even questionable to use it on servants) - that's why there's so many rules about being transparent with using Dyne abilities.
Kids will be kids, though. Lixy and Firsen are from rival houses, and they're both rebels in their own ways. Including how they use their Dyne.
Lixy is from House Melonykas - they're Chiros, the bat-based ones. They actually use dominance the most, with a frequency-based method of putting their targets in a sort of suggestible trance.
[It's called "Tuning", and there are other things they can do beyond that... but that's spoilers for now >v<]
Firsen is from House Streykas (Essents, insect-based)- he hasn't quite unlocked the finer points of dominance yet, but he can override it through brute force (which I think I'm going to call "calcination" - purifying by fire).
Because Firsen has unstable Dyne, though, it's a little uncomfortable and overwhelming for him to spend all at once like that. The backlash shouldn't be that strong for someone of his caliber, but his control could definitely use some work.
[Technically the Essent flavor of dominance is called "Hive"... but those are also spoilers as of now ^^]
Basically, whoever has the stronger Dyne ability can overcome the other's offense/defense.
I'm planning a part three of this rivalry between Lixy and Firsen, and it's an arms race between the two of them to get better at their abilities. Mostly it's Lixy trying to get into Firsen's head, occasionally succeeding, only for Firsen to find a way to shut her out, and now she's having to train harder to top him again.
Needless to say, Firsen gets very good, very fast - because he never wants to lose control to Lixy (or anyone else) ever again.
-takes deep breath-
sorry for the text wall but also thank you for reblogging and getting me to actually sort some of my worldbuilding into words :D
your magic system sounds really cool, i love how the use of Dynes is so fluid and dependent on environmental settings! being a part of nature, it is so out of humanity's hands and then, looking at our real world, we do tend to have nature bow down to our forces. and you have it so woven into your society's structures! the magic system is wholly part of the world building, which is my favourite kind of magic system x)
Firsen and Lixy both seem like two somewhat troubled kids x) i wonder where their journey will take them!
hi ho hello. 545 words, aka boiled-brain-goo, for @flashfictionfridayofficial. went for creating a mood but now it's just dialogue so xD maybe i'll try again another day x)
A handful of moths fought with the naked light of the light bulb. It seemed hopeless. The glass was too strong and impenetrable and Glenn could not help but sigh while watching these dumb critters.
A cracking thunder broke the silence in the warehouse they were hiding in.
"We should abandon our plan", Glenn said, not taking away their eyes from the moths.
Keith scoffed. "Of course you're the first to give up. Can't believe I ever expected anything else."
"I did not say that we should give up."
"Well. Honestly… With Mirko dead and Jenny down, I don't really see any other option but giving up", Miranda admitted and took a deep pull of her cigarette.
Glenn could not help but glancing at Jenny who was still unconscious and fully bandaged up. The memory of all they lost tied their stomach in knots.
"The way I see it," they continued, "we are like those moths. We will keep fighting and fighting against a foe that is ridiculously stronger than us. Untouchable. Invincible. Indomitable—"
"Way of boosting the morale", Miranda grumbled.
"So continuing like this just doesn't make any sense", Glenn said. Let the words settle over the group. Let one more thunder disrupt their thoughts.
"So what are you suggesting then?" Keith asked.
"We need to get a tool that is strong enough to smash the light bulb and then we can fight until death takes either us or them. And I am willing to entertain the thought of us winning, once we created the right circumstances."
"Light bulb", Miranda repeated dryly.
"Well. The light bulb is… A rhetorical choice and stands for the power of our enemies. Obviously."
"And the tool?" Keith asked.
Glenn took a deep breath. "We have been fighting as a group, but our magic is individualistic. If we combine our powers, we can make up for those even who left us—"
"Stop, stop, stop", Miranda interrupted them again. "What you're suggesting is not only dangerous but also forbidden! The power we'd hold would most likely tear us apart and even adding the magic of those who left us… Are you suggesting we just add magic even of those unwilling?"
Miranda's eyes were wild, trained on them.
"Jenny can't fight. But she is the strongest among us. We know that merging powers is cumulative. If we as individuals hold a collective power, we'd be unstoppable."
"What you're suggesting makes sense, but it can't be done", Keith said.
"Can't be done or shouldn't be done?" Glenn looked him in the eyes and found only hesitation.
"What about our integrity?" Miranda asked. "Merging other people's powers with ours… It's undignified. Jenny couldn't even agree to it. Wouldn't we betray our own ethics? Become just like them and stray from the path?" Miranda started to pace, her cigarette forgotten between her fingers.
"The way I see it, we either hold onto our dignity and lose in this fight, or we sacrifice our integrity, ethics, whatever, and be victorious. And honestly, with our friends dead and dying, I do have a preference."
Flashing lights and a booming thunder later, the group had a new plan. A last resort, perhaps, but who cared as long as they were successful?
