Writing thread!

Discussion in 'Make It So' started by Stophelping, Feb 23, 2015.

  1. Chiomi

    Chiomi Master of Disaster

    Ooh, those sound really cool. Tell me more about the biological terrorism/turning children into a fantasy race one?
     
  2. tinyhydra

    tinyhydra a dingus

    Eh, it's pretty simple. Only just started working on it, actually. Still hammering out the details. Basically there's this race of people who are basically just humans with animal bits tacked on (like, main character has cat ears stapled to the top of her head to go along with her regular old human ears, it looks really silly. I imagine they're nonfunctioning, cause wow how would that even work is there a second inner ear?? are the connected to the same inner ear and does that distort things?? Others have retractable claws or tails or horns, usually only one feature as far as I can tell) and there's a lot of hostility between them and humans going down. In response to human aggression, this terrorist group called the White Fang formed a few years back, and there have been some hints of genocidal leanings on their part. Also, they've partnered with a human terrorist group for reasons unknown, so I figure there's plenty of reasons for splinter groups to have formed. One of these is headed by a guy who's got a good handle on the world's magitech and whatnot, and he's maybe a healer of some sort and very not okay with people dying in droves. Still, humans are a threat to his people and drastic measures must be taken. So, why not engineer a virus that gets rid of humanity without getting rid of humans???? Except the virus doesn't actually turn people into faunus, just something that kind of resembles them. And that's if they get a good lot, and don't react super poorly or the virus doesn't mutate. Some people are def gonna get seriously injured, like bone growth going out of control and immune systems going haywire and making people allergic to themselves and whatnot. But I don't think that's going to be super in focus, I think it's mostly going to be about the main cast getting turned against their will, and how they react to that kind of body horror and cultural things, I dunno. I'm not making much sense, sorry. I am not doing words good today....
     
  3. Starcrossedsky

    Starcrossedsky Burn and Refine

    I see rwby fanfic.

    I'm also in writer's block hell, I don't think I'm going to get a chapter up this month. Oops.
     
  4. strictly quadrilateral

    strictly quadrilateral alive, alive, alive!

    I was trying to figure out what the population density of abhumans was in the comic wes and i are supposedly doing

    so the city in therion is an analog of boston, sort of. there's about 30-40 named abhuman characters so far. i would imagine that in the city proper, there would be maybe 15 or so more in hiding. maybe 30-50 or so total scattered through the rest of the state. population density of abhumans is highest in cities (esp. new york, london, etc) and fairly low in suburbs and rural areas, as few as one per 200,000 people in some areas, though usually around 1 in 100,000-150,000. this is because of the [spoilers] and really nothing else (except for abhumans moving to cities for various reasons after triggering).

    according to google, the population of boston is about 646,000, which means that abhumans make up about .0001 percent of the population at their densest. population of MA according to google is 6.745 million. assuming 100 abhumans in ma, this is a density of .00001 for a low density. maybe .000001 at the lowest. assuming a .000009 average and a population of 7 billion, this would mean abhumans are .000009 or so percent of humanity, or 63,000 abhumans in the world, or one in about 111,111 people.

    I put too much effort into this

    Edit: I argued with Wes a bit and we agreed to round it up to 70,000 and agree on that

    second edit: I'm bad at putting the correct number of zeroes on things, apparently
     
    Last edited: May 30, 2015
    • Like x 1
  5. tinyhydra

    tinyhydra a dingus

    Fuck, I am still stuck on this. I don't know where to go from here. Writer's block is a fucking pain.

    Sorry for the wall of text, will be more considerate next time, hopefully.
     
    Last edited: Jun 28, 2015
  6. NumiTuziNeru

    NumiTuziNeru @#$%?

    writing thread omg

    well, my main project is this thing I'm calling Stories from World's End, of which Tuppence for Stardust is the first part.
    it takes place in an alternate universe where magic, faeries and other supernatural things are quotidian, witches and born-with-magic people both exist, aetheric science is a thing and it is relatively reasonable for things to run on fairytale logic. oh, and the apocalypse is drawing near, there's an old legend about who's meant to stop it that may or may not be true, and the league of immortals is split between those trying to stop it and those who want it to happen.
    and Tuppence is basically the setup story, involving a young faerie girl who gets tossed into an island in northern England in 1987 and basically starts getting tangled up in all these things, while also exploring an unfamiliar world.

    ....this all sounded a lot better in my head
    but I'm still stupidly invested in this

    I've also been mulling over a completely different idea, a kind of strange fantasy type dealio about a girl called Marigold Morosely who goes on a quest to the Other Side to get back her sorrow that was stolen from her when she was born.

    ahaha focus reasonable goals what are those
     
    • Like x 2
  7. dkjou

    dkjou the radish patch has been left to grow weeds

    Oh hey, writing thread.

    My AO3 handle is daikonjou but I guess I haven't written anything substantial recently. I still have a folder of incomplete Homestuck fic, though, in addition to my One Defining Homestuck Fanfiction (I guess if you've ever heard of "clockwork tarantella" that was me l-lol).

    I've been working on stuff on and off for a few kink memes for a while and it's... not going well. Like 30k in and metaphorically crying instead of writing not going well. (I also set the 30k+ fic in 1700's Yoshiwara and I'm sort of afraid that I've opened the floodgates for terrible old Japan courtesan fic, which is a little narcissistic of me, but.)

    Today instead of going to bed like somebody sensible I decided I was going to write fic for this one game some friends and I have been playing. Unfortunately, my creeping sense of "wait I don't actually know what this character is like, not really" sent me running back to my copy of the official guidebook where I discovered that if I wanted to know what it said about him I'd have to run the page in particular through my super laborious translation process. There's probably a joke there about how I'm functionally illiterate but attempting translation anyway. Do we have a (potentially nsfw) translation stories thread? I have plenty of those from when I used to dabble in translating doujinshi l-lol.
     
    Last edited: Jun 17, 2015
  8. Morven

    Morven In darkness be the sound and light

    Those projects of yours sound fascinating, Numi!
     
    • Like x 1
  9. AbsenteeLandlady123

    AbsenteeLandlady123 Chronically screaming

  10. tinyhydra

    tinyhydra a dingus

    I'm being needy today.
    Xavin is five years old when he first sees someone die.

    He's seen death before. In private tutoring sessions, in personal explorations of the palace's massive video libraries, in unscheduled trips down to the kitchens, even. He believes he knows it well enough.

    He is wrong.

    There are five of them. Majesdanes. He knows of them as well as he knows of death.

    When his father first opens the doors to their little prison chamber, the first thing that hits him is the smell of them. He feels it like a fist to his jaw, like a rending behind his eyes, a wild scattershot of heat, ozone, rot, and other things. Things so intensely alien that he struggles to categorize them.

    Alien. He has never before understood the term. Surely there cannot be such vastly different things in a single universe. Surely there cannot be a creature that looks so like a Skrull, but yet is so intensely unlike one.

    And yet.

    They're offensive, on some primal level Xavin hasn't yet begun to understand. He feels it in the hollow of his chest, in the quick of his bones, a throbbing ache in his brain. It's etched into the sharp lines of their faces, in the knife patterns of their motions, in the high arching burr of their voices, wrong, wrong, all wrong.

    They hurt. It's like every fiber of their being is dedicated to being offensive to his senses. The swirling light of their skin feels like it pierces through his eyes and coalesces into a heavy film over his brain. Their odor is so powerful it sends him retching every time it hits the vomeronasal bulbs in the back of his throat.

    He glances sidelong at his father through watery eyes and catches the brunt of his disappointment. Xavin nearly flinches, but thinks better of it. He carefully tucks his scent glands behind the walls of his throat and lashes tendrils of newly grown muscle around his spine, daring it to bend towards the enemy again.

    He is the child of a Prince, and he is a child of war and he cannot back down.

    His father grunts in what Xavin imagines is approval, and motions at a panel mounted on the wall. A voice chirps it's acquiescence, and one of the figures is released from its bounds, crumpling limply to the floor. A male, long and lean and gaunt, thin limbs splayed in an inelegant sprawl. Its pale red hair is matted and brittle, and the light of its skin swirls in sluggish, oily ripples across its body, red, pink, yellow, and the faintest hint of blue clinging stubbornly to the arch of its nose.

    The male twists and jerks on the floor, a brittle broken thing, struggling to get its limbs to obey it. Xavin's eyes trace along the lines of its back, trailing along pitted crags that scatter light like cracks in glass. Pale blue fluid leaks from one, rolling in fat droplets down the length of the man's arm and dissolving into steam the moment it hits the cell's cool tile floor.

    Xavin draws his form in tight around himself, skin rippling a darker shade of green. The small bones in his fingers grow into one another to prevent his fists from balling.

    He remembers hand thick manuals describing in clipped, clinical sentences the Imperial Standard Interrogation Techniques. He remembers nights spent curled up under his blankets learning of trust and betrayal, rewards and punishment, what is earned and what is taken. He knows this.

    He knows this.

    Shame slinks hot and barbed up his spine and rakes razored tendrils across his scalp. His skin itches and squirms beneath his scales.

    Wrong, wrong, all wrong, he thinks.

    His father moves, form a liquid ripple in Xavin's eyes. His hands fist in the Majesdane's filthy hair and wrench him upwards, almost too fast for Xavin to follow. The Majesdane's voice cracks from dry, ragged lips, a hot sharp spike against Xavin's eardrums.

    I don't know how well this is working, especially the casual shapeshifting and the prose in general. Or how to continue from here. Feels weird going from feeling/impressions to solid actions, but not sure how else to move this thing along.
     
  11. Acey

    Acey hand extended, waiting for a shake

    It's not really writing in the sense of most of the stuff here, but I commented on a link my mom posted (an open letter to a Supreme Court asshole) and I'm proud of what I had to say.

    [​IMG]

    And here are some poems! I like writing fixed verse stuff, since it's kinda like a puzzle. :D

    Sometimes I think myself a foolish child
    Or maybe an asylum escapee
    My mind is broken, and my thoughts are wild

    Would that I were a bird, flying free
    But I'm a fool, naught but a crazy bitch
    Or maybe an asylum escapee

    I wish that I'd a way to scratch this itch--
    I just want happiness, stability
    But I'm a fool, naught but a crazy bitch

    I feel so caged in my insanity
    As if the outside world weren't quite as bad
    I just want happiness, stability

    I find myself so often awfully sad
    And captive in a mind I so despise
    As if the outside world weren't quite as bad

    The world spins by before my grey-blue eyes
    Sometimes I think myself a foolish child
    And captive in a mind I so despise
    My mind is broken, and my thoughts are wild

    There was a televangelist
    Who swore we'd all go to Hell if
    We kept fornicating
    And kept masturbating--
    Which all puts me on his shit list.


    There's death, despair, and misery all around
    Nothing goes right, we're totally screwed
    But with this bottle, my sorrows are drowned

    At first it seemed we were all on fair ground
    Until the universe came unglued
    There's death, despair, and misery all around

    My mother died--her body I have found
    I'll forever regret my bad attitude
    But with this bottle, my sorrows are drowned

    Hope is lost, there's no way to rebound
    Even with the knowledge I've accrued
    There's death, despair, and misery all around

    I fell in love, but I'm too tightly wound
    I can't fuck up or come across rude
    But with this bottle, my sorrows are drowned

    People still die, bodies still hit the ground
    And that's the reason this liquor was brewed
    There's death, despair, and misery all around
    But with this bottle, my sorrows are drowned

    I will heal the timeline; I will be God.
    You try to dissuade me--I’m just trying to help!
    Just follow along, smile and nod.

    The demon is here, against all odds--
    He marks the universe’s death knell.
    I will heal the timeline; I will be God.

    You say my methods are crazy; “Dear Cod,
    Serket, you’re clearly not well!”
    Just follow along, smile and nod.

    The sky is breaking, how terribly odd!
    The multiverse descends deeper into hell.
    I will heal the timeline; I will be God.

    It shouldn’t be hard with the power of a god.
    You still say I’m wrong, seems my plan’s a hard sell.
    Just follow along, smile and nod.

    I watch with a smile as LOFAF’s snow thaws
    The volcano erupts, but all is still well.
    I will heal the timeline; I will be God.
    Just follow along, smile and nod.

    There was a boy of noble hemocaste
    Who felt an emptiness inside his soul
    And so, it oh so quickly came to pass
    That he would try to fill that empty hole
    He worked on robots, poetry, and more
    A true Renaissance man, as some would say
    But all his hard work was for naught—as for
    His sanity, it wasn't quite okay
    He claimed to be a hoofbeast, or perhaps
    A system of a thousand thoroughbreds
    And many other beings—oh, alas!
    Horuss went mad, before he wound up dead.
    But death never did fix his broken mind
    And true fulfillment, he would never find.

    Kanaya was a jadeblood, rare of hue
    Her lusus was a virgin mother grub
    A rarity among all those she knew--
    Not just due to her lusus and her blood,
    But due to int'rests many found obscure
    Like bright sunlight and wearing silk and lace
    Yet she was well-liked by her friends, for sure
    Though many fellow members of her race
    Would prob'ly find her fixations obscene
    A neat freak and a mother figure to
    Her friends (though they became more of a team)
    She thought she always knew just what to do
    But when the thing that she was meant to hatch
    Was blown up, she knew she had met her match.

    There was an heiress to a corpora-
    -tion, known as CrockerCorp to all the world,
    Who, all despite her status and her fame,
    Was really quite an ordinary girl.
    Jane Crocker, age fifteen, did check the mail
    To see if the SBURB alpha had arrived
    Alas, instead a bomb went off, but failed
    To kill the girl—no, rather, she survived
    And when she got the game, she saw the Land
    of Crypts and Helium, with life extinct
    But strange enough, her aspect and
    Her class, the Maid of Life, weren't what you'd think.
    Shenanigans ensued, but in the end,
    The Maid and her four dear friends did Ascend.

    Damara was a girl, meek as could be
    Who left her homeland, and quickly did meet
    A boy named Rufioh, and he and she
    Began a matespritship—not one discreet,
    But known to all who saw the girl and boy.
    The female thought their love was pure and true,
    Expecting that her boyfriend would be loy-
    -al to her; there was much she never knew
    About him, and his secretive affair
    With one named Horuss, blood so blue and bold
    But when she knew, she knew it was unfair
    And sought revenge against the one who'd told
    Her all about what her boyfriend had said.
    At young Damara's hands, two wound up dead.

    Behold, dear travelers, the Myst’ry Shack,
    A house of wonders, cryptic and obscure.
    Now, you may think I’m just some lousy hack--
    But just you wait. I’ll give you guys the tour!
    Just twenty bucks admission, and you’ll get
    To see amazing things found nowhere else.
    And if you feel cheated, don’t you fret--
    There’s still stuff waiting for you on the shelves
    Of our gift shop, the finest in the land!
    It’s stuffed with wondrous, fabulous knick-knacks,
    And that alone will surely make you fans
    Of this little Oregon tourist trap.
    Come one, come all! Step in, and have some fun--
    But if you don’t, remember: NO REFUNDS.
     
    • Like x 4
  12. strictly quadrilateral

    strictly quadrilateral alive, alive, alive!

    • Like x 1
  13. wes scripserat

    wes scripserat Hephaestus

    something for the universe bel and i are making:

    and the stars, the shining stars
    they dance along the shining path,
    with the kings and queens,
    walking arm and arm.
    the players play, the dancers dance,
    along the checkered board,
    won, too three, won, too three,
    dance with me darling.
    they are the players, you are the played,
    kings and queens and brave knights too
    fly up high, into the sky,
    dancing guy, fly up high.
    i am the watcher, here is my clock
    tic toc tic toc goes, the clock
    through the sky the sands of time
    fall and fall and fall behind.
    find the sky and find the dance
    the dancing girl falls in a trance
    cassandra truth she tells no lies
    the angel one is way up high.
    die and die and die again
    this endless death is your penance
    the blood you've spilled is on your hands
    the black king asks to dance again.
    white queen give the king your hand,
    soon it's time to dance again.
     
    • Like x 3
  14. tinyhydra

    tinyhydra a dingus

    It feels very sense making for @wes scripserat to be a poetry kind of guy. You've got that kind of rhythm to your posts, yunno?
     
  15. wes scripserat

    wes scripserat Hephaestus

    oh really? huh, that's interesting.
    i never thought of that.
    well thank you, a lot.
    i'm glad you liked it :)
     
    • Like x 3
  16. Wiwaxia

    Wiwaxia problematic taxon

    Exhibit A:
     
    • Like x 3
  17. Acey

    Acey hand extended, waiting for a shake

    Wow at which one(s)? Just curious.
     
  18. Acey

    Acey hand extended, waiting for a shake

    Oh hey I found a couple more villanelles I did.

    "I'm sorry, AA--this was all my fault."
    Tears well up in heterochromatic eyes.
    "Sollux, this was not your fault at all."

    "I was the source of the vicious assault
    That caused you to wither and die.
    I'm sorry, AA--this was all my fault."

    "But Vriska had you in her psychic thrall!"
    The girl shakes her head and sighs.
    "Sollux, this was not your fault at all."

    "It killed me, seeing you collapse and fall
    As flashing lights and heat engulfed your hive,
    I'm sorry, AA--this was all my fault."

    "But I was the one who believed Vriska's call,
    Who was so excited when she saw you in the sky.
    Sollux, this is not your fault at all."

    The two kids who helped cause their planet's fall
    Embrace, though all the boy can do is cry,
    "I'm sorry, AA--this is all my fault."
    "Sollux, this was not your fault at all."

    John, I'm a Seer. I know what to do.
    So take this list. Just follow directions.
    I want to fix things--don't you?

    My powers allow me to view
    Actions and consequences, and their connections.
    John, I'm a Seer. I know what to do.

    You scratched your session and started anew,
    But that's not enough to save us, I reckon.
    I want to fix things--don't you?

    I'm trying to help, but it looks like you two
    Would rather indulge in displays of affection.
    John, I'm a Seer. I know what to do.

    Sure, I've questioned all that I thought I knew--
    But now's no time for introspection.
    I want to fix things--don't you?

    You say I'm weird. Perhaps that's true,
    But I know you can save us--just make these corrections.
    John, I'm a Seer. I know what to do.
    I want to fix things--don't you?
     
    • Like x 3
  19. strictly quadrilateral

    strictly quadrilateral alive, alive, alive!


    All of them, but I think I made the post after the Horuss one because I couldn't take how awesome they all were by that point.

    Also, I love your SolAra villanelle.
     
    • Like x 1
  20. winterykite

    winterykite Non-newtonian genderfluid

    I wrote a villain song today! The messy rhythm and rhyme scheme is on purpose, the character is a) so much done with everything b) being reconstructed as an abomination

    edited in addendum: it haphazardly switches between slow ballad and hard rock, and i may or may not have listened to "Be Prepared" while writing this.

    Silently I watch the frost blanket these lands
    Breathing softly, quietly, so I can pretend
    That it's still there, not fading from my eyes
    This dangerous beauty, sculpted from ice

    I know full well it's not the world that's fading
    Life and blood, consciousness, cascading,
    Leaving me while I sing my one aria
    Look at me, I've only come so far

    And yet, the ice sings to me
    Beckons me to set it free
    It shows my path, virtue and vice
    I'll adorn this place with a crown of ice

    Watch me! Witness me! I am more than you bargained for
    Watch me! Witness me! The one you could not prepare for
    Watch me! Witness me! My path has not yet broken off
    Watch me! Witness me! I will rise to the very top

    The children have laughed at me
    The older ones gossiped instead
    The teachers have nagged me since ever
    Give up the pipedreams, forget

    My friends and my brother stood by me
    As the visions unfurled in my head
    And now, I stand here, all alone
    Not breathing, but cold and dead

    And yet, the ice sings to me
    Beckons me to set it free
    It shows my path, virtue and vice
    I'll adorn this place with a crown of ice

    Watch me! Witness me! I am more than you bargained for
    Watch me! Witness me! The one you could not prepare for
    Watch me! Witness me! My path has not yet broken off
    Watch me! Witness me! I will rise to the very top

    I see now, clearly, before me
    A man who sought to rule these lands
    With no more than a handful
    Henchmen and words, all pitiful!

    None of them fit to shine my boots
    Not even his puppets obeyed him
    Cutting their strings, betray to the letter
    I'm quite sure that I can do better

    Watch me! Witness me! I am more than you bargained for
    Watch me! Witness me! The one you could not prepare for
    Watch me! Witness me! My path has not yet broken off
    Watch me! Witness me! I will rise to the very top

    I see now, clearly, before me
    My vision was, well, incomplete
    But now I have seen, now is the time
    Stopping now would be a crime

    The stage waits for no one, not even for me
    Time to mop up behind the curtains
    Trash the old, bring in the new, and be certain
    The face of these lands shall be me!

    Talentless hacks and boring stories alike
    They all are the same, so why bother?
    The public adores me, runs on and implores me
    To give my vision to them, well then, I shall!

    Gorgeous and dreadful, not at all regretful
    My vision is me at the top of the world
    The others are pattering, whining and bickering
    They all are unfit for the charge!

    So time for a new order to bloom
    Raising us up from the gloom
    Time for true heroes to rise
    Presenting the land with a crown of ice
     
    Last edited: Jul 1, 2015
    • Like x 3
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