>>47609943
Wait is this a thread where we post stories that happened in games weve played or just make up stories?

>>47610329
the latter. It's a creative writing thread, not a greentext story thread.

Although if you want to turn a game you played into a story, told from the perspective of your character, no one's stopping you

Reposting from previous thread, since it died so quickly:

I posted this last time, then got banned for an unrelated reason, so I couldn't respond to feedback. Really, really sorry about that, guys.

In any case, I've been writing a story about a dragon who gets banished to the frozen hell Earth, and the human who has to deal with all the bullshit that ensues. That's available here:

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1fC1TACtbBVL9ko-KOQTrJdxB_s6sIVSCVypU_5C1JL4/edit

It actually has a proper beginning now, which is nice. I don't think it's a very good beginning, but at least it's something.

Can I just say that I like the treatment my concept got
>>47598857
>>47599268
>>47600273
>>47600439
(although I didn't see the need to bring Fae into it. could have just as easily called it an old god or a demiurge or something)

>>47605630
>>47605857
>>47606026
This was a cool poem, but it would have been better still if the metre was as regular as the rhyme scheme (unless there's a pattern I'm missing)

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is there going to be a part two to this?
>>47484957

(also, this could probably have a better title.)

>>47611684
A bleak, jutting, dilapidated tower stands out among the sorrowful city. If you were to ask any random passerby on the street about that dirty tower, they would look on it with pride and admiration. "Why, that's the Tower of Tradition" they would exclaim cheerfully, sharply contrasting with their sad surroundings. You would get more or less the same story every time. Long ago, the city had been a thriving utopia, pierced in the middle by a monumental tower of radiant white. It had been filled to the brim with the finest scholars and poets, artists and musicians. People let the tower dictate their lives. They reveled in the songs that lost their splendor. They admired paintings whose style went out of taste. Their sciences made no advances and their poets spouted the same rhetoric. The tower is the city and it's people, and the tower is unchanging. Nothing but a stubborn rock being bowed down to by people hanging onto a golden age long past. You could try to explain to it's citizens that times are different, and that things change, but they would not listen. They would quiet down for a moment and squint their eyes at the crumbling tower, perhaps sniffing or scratching the back of their neck. Then they would shake their head, say, "Good day to you" and walk off.

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Anyone would try making a story of this? Setting with modern-industrial human civilization sending their military to fantasy magic lands with such hi jinks like this.

>>47622700
>BEGIN TRANSCRIPT OF REPORT.<
>LOCATION: GREY KNIGHTS CRUISER "ULTIMATE SANCTION"<
>PRESENT: GRAND MASTER AURIKON, GRAND MASTER OF THE GREY KNIGHTS THIRD BROTHERHOOD. ADEPT<

ADEPT. Grand Master, I have compiled a report of most...troubling implications.
GRAND MASTER. Speak.
A. The reports you have requested of the Hive World Tokio Tertius have some curious reports. They speak of being able to hold off a daemonic invasion that seems nothing of the sort.
GM. I will be the one to determine what is and is not unusual. Continue.
A. According to what you have taught me, a daemonic invasion would have involved dragging this world into the Warp, but this planet bears no such overt taint.
GM. The stench of corruption is one easily masked to the untrained nose. It is as likely that these daemons are waiting for an opportune moment to strike.
A. I would have thought so too until I wound local penthrifts reporting...these daemons being vanquished.
GM. What? Have we already been stationed there? What is the history of this planet?
A. Ye-no, sir. This planet was founded in 678.M36, but the records I have clearance for report no such mention of a previous visit here by the Grey Knights or the Ordo Malleus.
GM. What is the Inquisition's presence in this sector?
A. Minimal. I have reports mentioning a Lord Inquisitor Lorenz being around almost a thousand years ago, but after two hundred, any record of him seems to just...vanish into thin air. No reports of his death, no information about his Interrogator, nothing.
GM. An Interrogator?
A. Yes. Interrogator Gendo Ikaros. He was last reported settling in this world, purportedly to marry a local. Any trace of him after that has vanished, same as his Lord.
GM. And there was no implication of changing their identity?
A. From what I have here, no. I have been continuing searching, and I will keep you appraised of any possibility of a name change.

High, your old pal Czechfag here. I had recently hit a rocky few weeks, so I don't have that much to post yet.
I have a little request though. Anyone has the picture of a Japanese school girl and Mermaid in a glass tube in some kind of research facility that used to pop up in just about every story-fag thread? I started writing a story for as an exercise in one of the previous threads, but cleverly forgot to save the pic.
If anyone has it, could you please post it - I could do with taking another look at it. I'll post what I wrote about it a little later.

>>47624926
GM. Now, on these supposed 'daemons'... Explain them to me.
A. Very well. None of them seem to adhere to any of the sorts you have allowed me to research. None of them seem to be affected by any instability of the Warp, and I do not see any obvious markings of them. I have some pict-captures of them for your convenience.

GRAND MASTER peruses the photos.

GM. You are correct. Daemons are products of the warp, and the materium is considered almost toxic to them. To exist like they have in this realm implies that they are either not daemonic...or that these are some of the most complex daemon engines I have ever seen. I shall forward this to Techmarine Acastus and our Techpriesthood. Perhaps they might provide better insight to this affair.
A. Excellent, your lordship.
GM. I have no need for your praise. Now, explain to me their means for fighting these...'daemons'.
A. From initial surveillance, I would consider it a very exotic frame of Imperial Knight, but that would be nonsensical.
GM. In what capacity?
A. Imperial Knight houses are not just 'made'. Not since the Great Crusade, at the very least. Also, the secrets to even maintain such divine engines are not ones so easily divulged. The Sacristans who maintain them usually need entire fleets of supplies and servitors to even begin the work.
GM. So you believe in the possibility of tech-heresy?
A. That is not the worst of it. I also have a vid-capture of one particular fight. Apparently these things are considered heroes to the people of this world.
GM. What of the response of other Imperial bodies? The Adeptus Arbites, the Astra Telepathica?
A. There is a PDF stationed here, as well as an equivalent of the Arbites. They both seem nominally faithful to the Golden Throne. Neither seem so concerned that they would set out to demolish these things.

GRAND MASTER chuckles in bemusement.

A. Is...something the matter, my lord?
GM. "Angels of Death." Truly, these sheep are misguided.

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>>47625165
this one?

>>47625612
That is the one. Though my memory tangled it a bit, but no matter. Thank you so much!
I should be done with the text later today, I'll post it as soon as I'm finished.

>>47625492
A. Oh, you speak of the moniker the people of this world gave for the daemons?
GM. To think that we could be considered the same as such filth, to even bear the same name, insults me and the Emperor.
A. Most certainly. Similarly, you may like to know that these other things, the knights, are called the 'Evangelios'.
GM. And the word of the Ministorum? They would most certainly not stand for such blasphemy.
A. One would think so, my lord. However, they seem to be as supportive as the others. It is possible they might even be responsible for this.
GM. Then this entire world has strayed from the Emperor's light. I would sanction Exterminatus had I the resources, but all I have right now is only a few of my Brotherhood.
A. Your line to Inquisitor Tsugulska is still open. If you wish to call it, I am sure he will be happy to consult with you on the idea.
GM. Good. Now, about these machines...
A. Anything you would like to ask, Grand Master? The reports have everything that is accessible to the public, but if you wish it, I can begin an infiltration assignment, hopefully the planetary government has a better clue what they are.
GM. Now that I have a better look at it...Their resemblance to the 'daemons' is almost uncanny.
A. Some of them do, yes. The daemons have a rather broad variety in their appearances, and it is known that one of them could possess the machines.
GM. Now, what would you say if the two species...were actually one and the same?
A. That the Knights were made from daemons? My lord, that would be blasphemous on a whole new level!
GM. It would and if true it would require marshalling the might of the entire Brotherhood. But look at this particular vid. It is clear that these things are not just machines, there is something more to them, something clearly beyond a standard Knight.
A. You suspect a heretek's involvement?
GM. A heretek with some incredible funding.
A. Lorenz.
GM. And if not him, Ikaros. There is no way the heretek is alone.

>>47625921
A. Agreed.
GM. Do we have any locations of nearby Titan legions?
A. No, my lord. I will gather those immediately.
GM. Inform me when you do, and inform the Astropath that I have a message for him to relay.
A. Do you wish of me to -
GM. No. What I must tell him and what he informs me must never reach the ears of any other, and when the message is carried, I will give you your orders.
A. Thank you, Grand Master.
GM. Dismissed. When next we strike, we will break this thesis of cruel angels...

>END TRANSCRIPT<

>>47625612
I'm done. It's not great, but as an exercise it will do.
>Deep Under Water
Nobody really paid attention to Yuko, when she wandered among the metal clad hallways of the Institute. She was always just kinda “there” sitting on a bench in the corner of a hall, patiently cleaning her round glasses or reading a book, or sleeping beneath the great branches of the Tree. Everybody assumed she is a daughter of someone from the department of cryptozoology, or perhaps a sister of somebody working on the transbotanics - simply that she must be somehow related to someone among the thousands and thousands of scholars, scientists or engineer staff employed in the Institute. Every now and then, somebody gave her a faint smile or a little wave of hand as she passed them by, her big black eyes reflecting the green light of the many liquid crystal screens.
“She is our Yuko.” they would say to their friends or relatives visiting, surprised to see a girl of her age in the facility, still dressed up in a school uniform. “She’s like… our mascot or something. I think her dad works in the administration or something.”
And every day, she kept coming back. As soon as the school bell rang and her classmates left the building, chattering excitedly about what the afternoon holds for them, she pass them in silence and head to the station, to board the train for the Institute. She would watch the cold green light of led lamps replace the sunlight on her face, as the train descended deeper and deeper underground - leaving the sun drenched streets, lined with cosy houses and spiderweb of electrical cables stretching from pole to pole, the green bamboo and cypress grooves far behind. Here, in the underground belly of the Institute, her soft steps echoed in endless halls and great metallic domes. She would, as always, find herself some cosy spot to sit down, to read, or doze off while watching the specimens in vats and behind glass panels that lined the walls.
1/7

>>47626606
“I don’t think she has many friends.” said Miss Shinohara one day while chewing on a tuna sandwich.
“How come?” I asked and offered her a paper tissue.
“Well, for one, she’s here every day late into the night.”
“That does not mean she does not have friends in the school.” I opined.
“Yeah it does. Besides, have you ever seen her even talking to anyone?”
“She is a quiet one, I’ll give you that.”
Yuko was sitting not far from us, her head tilted slightly to the side, left hand resting gently on the glass of a tube, containing one of the forest specimens - a small creature not unlike a ferret, but with a bright green fur, remindful of the color and texture of tall summer grass. The specimen did not seem to pay her any attention, much like neither of us did: it was happily scratching it’s ear and breathing out small clouds of pink fumes. Adorable creature, really, if you did not know the risks of inhaling it’s pink breath. When I first saw Yuko - I realized - the creature’s fur was bright red as it changed it’s color in correspondence to changing seasons.
Yoko looked lost in her thoughts entirely. I’ve watched those wide black eyes, her narrow, pale lips moving ever so slightly, as if she was gently whispering something to her self.
“John!” my coworker`s rough voice, his english think with Japanese accent, made me nearly jump out. “You were supposed to take the temperature measurements on specimen A5442B an hour ago!”

The next day, I found Yuko standing next to a vending machine in one of the many parlors of the facility. She looked small and timid next to great metal platings on the walls. She was sipping green tea from a bottle.
“Yuko?” I approached her.
She looked up to me shyly.
“Come with me, there is someone I want to you to meet.”
2/7

>>47626635
Yoko looked confused, but followed me obediently. We passed the great metallic doors, the clutters of cables and naked bellies of great servers filled with glowing lights. We passed long walkways above the hermetically sealed habitats, filled with swirling purple smoke and glowing mushrooms, filled with bizarre and colorful creatures following us with dim stares. The Institute, it was a fairytale dressed in metal and glass. My coworkers, dressed in lab coats, acknowledged us with a nod as we passed them by.
The Area XC77, or as we grew accustomed to call it, “The Waterworks”, greeted with us cold light and echo of our footsteps, as they resonated in its enormous hallways. The air was filled with humming and bubbling, coming from kilometers of pipes stretching along the walls. I led Yuko towards a large glass tube, filled with murky green liquid. Label on a silver plate on the glass stated “Water specimen V232, Radset” and next to it, somebody taped a hand written note: “Stop tapping on the glass you assholess.” The water in the tube was thick and cloudy.
Yuko gave me another confused look.
“Wait for a second.” I said with a hushed voice. “She’ll appear soon.”
I was right. The murky water swirled and soon enough, a rough shade appeared. The silhouette of a human torso, two long, slender limbs, delicate face, long, fish-like tail. V232 emerged from the green shade, her beautiful black eyes staring at us cautiously, her long hair widely floating around her head.
“Hi, Lo.” I said. “Meet Yuko. Yuko, meet Lo.”
“Lo?” Yuko looked at me with slight disbelief in her voice.
“Lo as in Lorelei. Sounds better than V232, don’t you think?”
“Oh. I thought -“
“You thought?”
“Nevermind…”
The mermaid swam a little closer to the glass, measuring us with what seemed like a curious look.
3/7

>>47626652
“Oh yeah.” I scratched my head. “She seems to prefer it that way. Trust me, we tried putting her into clear water, she nearly broke the glass. She can be a handful.”
Yoko carefully waved to the mermaid. The mermaid did not reply, but she followed Yuko’s hand with her eyes.
“Can I touch the glass?” asked Yuko again.
“Sure - just don’t tap on it, she does not like that.”
Yuko held out her hand and touched the surface of the tank - a little too quickly, it seemed as the mermaid instinctively dodged backwards and disappears into the green clouds.
“Ah!” Yoko yelped. “I’m sorry!”
“Don’t worry about it.” I smiled. “She’ll be back in a minute. She is just shy at first. But her curiosity always takes over in the end. Why don’t you wait here? I think Lo could do with some company.”
I think you both could. I wanted to add, but I stopped myself.
Yuko nodded eagerly.
“Alright. I’ll check back on you two later.”

Over the next few weeks, Yuko started visiting Lo every day. I pass them by on my rounds - a girl sitting on a metallic step, and a mermaid on her side, both sitting almost shoulder to shoulder. I saw them nod and gesture at each other and lean towards the glass, as if they were whispering secrets. One late night, was finishing up my shift, walking rough the hallways and turning off the bright lights one by one, to give the specimens some much needed rest. The Institute was almost empty, everybody went back home, to their cosy suburban houses, to families and hot meals.
Yuko was still sitting beneath the glass tube. Her head rested on the glass of the tube, a book and round glasses lying in her lap - she was asleep. Lo was floating close to her, watching her - her hands were pressed against the glass, as if she wanted to hold the girl around her shoulders. When I walked closer, Lo looked at me with a worried smile on her lips, nodded, and then disappeared into the cloudy water.
4/7

>>47626669
>>47626652
“Yuko…” I raised my voice to her. “Yuko, wake up.”
Yuko opened her eyes slowly and looked at me as if from great distance.
“Come on. You fell asleep. We’re closing, it’s time to go home.”
The girl did not say anything, just looked worriedly at the empty tank besides her.
“Don’t worry.” I said. “Lo was here with you all the time. But it’s time to go. Come on, I’ll walk you home.”
We walked through the sleeping Institute side by side, the hallways filled with shadows stretched for miles around us. Yuko was silent until we finally reached the exit. I waved to the guard as passed the security checkpoint. The platform of the station, carved into solid stone, was empty and dark - water was dripping from the celling.
“John,” Yuko said suddenly. “Why… why do you keep her like that?”
“What?”
“I mean, why do you keep her in here? Why do you keep all those creatures in here?”
I sighed. “You know the answer to that. I mean, the teachers must have told you, right? Your parents, they work here, so…”
“I know.” she says quietly. “But…” She stops herself. “My parents… they don’t work here. Not anymore.”
“Oh. I thought… Oh. I’m sorry.”
Another minute of silence. Water drips from the celling like a metronome.
“So,” I gather my courage to ask. Yuko is next to me, tiny and timid in her black and white uniform, nervously clinching her glasses between long pale fingers, looking somewhere to the left of my feet. “So why do you keep coming here?”
She does not answer. I can feel her anxiety, she huddles her shoulders like a puppy, expecting a beating.
She does not answer. I can feel her anxiety, she huddles her shoulders like a puppy, expecting a beating.
5/7?

>>47626699
“Don’t worry.” I say, but I feel like there is something bubbling and brewing inside of me. “I’m not going to rat you out. As far as I’m concerned, I’m just happy Lo has a friend. But I really have to ask… You could have been out with your friends. You could be out there, in the sunshine. You really should not burry yourself alive here, in this wet, cold tomb. How old are you? You should be talking to people, making friends, going to karaoke, making boys dizzy. Lo - she does not even understand you. She’ll never will! I really don’t understand why you keep-“
Yuko raises her huge black eyes up to me. She looks at me, and I see eyes I know all too well: wide, deep eyes of a trapped mermaid, staring from beneath murky green water.
She does not make a sound, but her lips move and I can read them.
Because I’m a freak too.

When the train arrives, we are both silent again. The green lights dance in our hair as the train makes it’s way through the tunnel, until finally, the clear, starry skies open up above us. The city sleeps in all direction under the moonlight. I accompany Yuko all the way to her home. There are no light on in the windows of her house when she stiffly says the words “than you for seeing me home”.
I call for a cab. The bamboos silently fizz from a nearby garden.
“What the fuck was I supposed to say?!” I yell out loud.

I find Yuko sitting next to the tank again. She seems happy, reading a book but constantly stopping herself to show some picture to Lo, who enthusiastically nods in return.
“Hi John!” she jumps up with a smile when she notices me. Over the last few months, she has became so much more lively and cheerful.
“Hi…”
“Is something wrong?”
“Eh… Yuko… let me buy you a coffee or something.”
We park ourselves in front of one of the vending machines.
6/7

>>47626729
“Look, Yuko… I’m sorry.” (I can see how she bits her lower lip). “Lo… Lorelei is going to go away soon. I’m sorry.”
“What?!”
“We are… we are going to release her. We found a new, unspoiled habitat. A new place for her to live in. A natural place to live in.”
“But…” I can see tears appearing in her eyes.
“Look - we can’t keep her in that tank forever! You… you need to let her go.”
She sobs. “OK,” she says then in a choked voice. “Can I see her off?”
“Sure. Sure you can.”

I chew on my lunch. It tastes like cardboard. I can hear my coworkers talking.
“I haven’t seen that girl around for a while.” says one.
“Yeah, you are right.” says another. “That little girl, right? What was her name? Yoko or something?”
“Yuko. I haven’t seen her in weeks. Maybe she moved away somewhere?”
“I guess.”
Miss Shinohara gives me a stare. But I don’t say anything.
When I’m taking a train back home, I sometimes look out of the window. I look for the black and white colors of the school uniforms, for kids, going home from clubs, from school, from karaoke. Sometimes I feel like I see the glint of round glasses, a faint smile on pale lips. Sometimes I think I see Yoko among the faces of kids, laughinh as they walk down the street. But I’m never quite sure.
7/7

OK, that's it folks. Hot off the presses. The usual caveat about me not being a native speaker applies. It's an exercise, I don't think it's nearly as good as most of the "normal" stuff I write, but I need to keep myself in shape somehow.

Let me know what you think.

>>47626773
Well I was entranced from beginning to end. I was expecting Yuki to eat the narrator or something so the "never seen again" bit was jarring, but it's more to real life I suppose. Still, great stuff! What language is your first, may I ask?

>>47626833
Wow, that was quick.
I'm Czech, hence I'm come to call myself "czechfag" as I like to post around these threads enough for people to actually remember me.
Thanks a lot for the kind words.
Yeah, I was frankly struggling a lot to end up the story, but I like the "ending in nothingness, like in real life" deal, it's a good way to make your lack of a proper ending seem almost profound.

I honestly aren't all that comfortable writing traditional sci-fi or fantasy to begin with. This was one of my first ventures into this territories in ages.
Oh yeah, and re-reading it after posting, I noticed I lost a few sentences here and there... Nothing key, I hope, but the pacing suffers.

>>47626606
>>47626635
>>47626652
>>47626669
>>47626699
>>47626729
>>47626773
nice work. Perhaps a little... flat. Restrained might be a better term. I think it might have been better if you'd given it a more interesting ending. Individually the story is okay, and the ending is okay, but put them together and they aren't quite satisfying. In my opinion, that is.

>>47627917
Speaking as an author: I know the ending is rushed as fuck.
I've actually rewritten the ending already somewhat. It's not a dramatic change: just few extra lines that provide for greater symmetry: the final paragraphs now basically recounts the second one, just in reverse: people talking about Yuko as "she used to be our mascot" and realizing they never knew anything about her again, then the landscape describes the same scene that described Yuko's road to the institute, except this time from the narrators perspective, as he returns home from the Institute...
A lot more extensive work needs to be done though. I'll see what I can do with it, but seeing as this was really just an exercise (I actually never thought I'll finish it at all) I don't know how much patience will I have in revisting it. Plus, I doubt anyone will want to read the thing again, just with minor changes.
Thanks for the feedback though. Yeah, the story is actually not particularly strong and the ending is flat out week. Again: I'm not comfortable writing fantasy - I intentionally avoided telling as much about the actual world as possible, focusing only on the characters. Maybe I should have ended up more dramatically, reveal that Yuko was really a monster or something, but I really wanted the fantastic/sci-fi element to be kept to minimum, I just don't really know what to do with it. I tried to keep it character-driven, but the result is... as you said, flat.

>>47628168
>I tried to keep it character-driven
you can't develop characters if your characters have nothing to work with. The only real events in that story is the moment when the narrator introduces the girl to the mermaid, and the moment he tells the girl that the mermaid is being released. Two points, the bare minimum: a beginning and an end. Beyond that, nothing much happens. If you throw in more external actions for your characters to respond to, then there will be more opportunities for character development.

>>47628420
Actually, I thought (and maybe it just does not work the way I intended it to) for the key moment to be the dialogue on the train platform. I wanted to intentionally hide a lot of the story - the fantasy backstory to be up to the reader to fill in himself, and within the dialogues, the most important things are those that are not spoken.
Hell, I wondered for half an hour if I should even explicitly write the spoilered line to begin with.

The whole idea really was to write a story about teenage anxiety and loneliness, and the feeling of helplessness one experiences when trying to understand the problems of others. The mermaid, the Institute, all of that was really rather accidental to the story - I just though the idea of an introverted girl find likened spirit in an isolated, lonely creature literally out of her element a good metaphor.
But what was in my head, and what I actually managed to capture are two different things.

Personally, I think the main problem is in the dialogues, or lack of them or their inability to better capture the essence of the characters. Partially because the characters (at least Yuko) simply don't have much space to properly come alive. Partially it might be a problem of Yuko being more of a prototype or trope than a real character.

>>47628651
>Actually, I thought (and maybe it just does not work the way I intended it to) for the key moment to be the dialogue on the train platform
no, you're right that that's an important moment. But it comes entirely from the internal interaction between the two characters and their character development.

what I meant by the introduction of the mermaid was that in that moment you are introducing something NEW to the characters. Something external, that they can react to. Not something that follows entirely from their established traits.

I understood that you were writing on the theme of lonliness. I think you capture the essence of your characters fairly well. But it was just too introspective. There has to be contrast with external events. It's the girl who's supposed to be introspective, not the story. The narrative has to draw out the themes from within the characters, if you see what I mean (actually I'm not sure why you would since I don't entirely.)

>>47628840
>The narrative has to draw out the themes from within the characters, if you see what I mean (actually I'm not sure why you would since I don't entirely.)
Actually, it makes a hell of a lot sense, thanks. Yeah: the story itself isn't introspective: the story does not delve into the characters: even the narrator does not actually disclose much about himself (the only moment when it's really telling what is going on in John's head is when he literally cries out his frustration after accompanying the girl home).
With that in mind, it actually can come across as flat - the story talks about two characters and what they do and say, which honestly (and intentionally) is not much.
A really good author would probably be able to make that work (I'm thinking of Hemingway or Capote), but I'm seriously nowhere near close to authors of such caliber, and the story is nowhere near close to the strength of stories those people told.

What it lacks is stronger confrontations of the characters with the world that would in reflection disclose more about what they are really going through.
Does that roughly correspond to what you meant? I mean, I could be projecting/misunderstanding your point.

Still. This is actually some really great feedback and food for thought. I'm probably not going to try and save this particular story, but it's pretty great notion of something to watch out for in the future.

I have a... thing for keeping a distance from characters and things going on with them. I think I know why. But that does not mean it's actually a good literary approach.

>>47629101
>What it lacks is stronger confrontations of the characters with the world that would in reflection disclose more about what they are really going through.
yes, that's exactly what I've been getting at. Unless you are lazy and just write an internal monologue where the character explains how they feel, the reader can't know what's going through the character's mind until the character is confronted by something they have to react to. How the character reacts both tells the reader something about their character, and sets up further character development later on.

let me give an example related to the story you posted: one day, the glass in the mermaid's tank shatters - maybe because she'd been hitting it, maybe just faulty installation - and she spills out onto the floor.

does Yuko then
- stand back, too scared to approach, and is upset by the suffering of her friend and her inability to help
or
- rush over and cradle Lo, and pour water over her to help her breathe

and does Lo
- allow Yuko to help
or
-thrash around in panic

this is a very basic example, and I've only given binary options when in reality there are many. But you can see how an event (the glass shattering) gives an opportunity to develop character traits.

>>47629316
The characters, simply put, need to "bounce" off something. Got it.
This has been extremely helpful to me, thank you for taking the time off to indulge me. I did not really put that much time or faith into the thing, but it turned out to be a huge learning experience in the end. I'm still struggling to cope with longer texts (so far, if you've seen the kind of things I posted up here in previous threads, I've mostly fooled around in texts rarely above four or five paragraphs long) and I never realized this could be a serious problem.
I'm off, but I'll hopefully be back later this week with some new stuff. Thanks again.

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>>47629497
no problem dude, I enjoy reading your stuff

a few weeks ago some of us were submitting stuff to the Black Library. I got a rejection letter a few days ago - did anyone else get a response?

>>47623378
Anna didn't know why she kept coming here. She knew full well that the von Julienne Estate was under a security detail tighter than any she knew in her seven years as a thief and she would be blind to ignore the blatant wanted posters thrown up around the neighborhood with bounties on her head, and she knew damn well it was her head. She didn't even have any good reason to keep coming after she robbed it the first time.

"Miss Anna! You came back!"
Then it comes back to her: That mission to rob the von Juliennes was almost a success, almost a completely anonymous robbery, all except for one unknown variable - the boy.
"I've been wondering where you've been, how you've been doing!"
The boy was Leo von Julienne, youngest son of five, and thus was groomed only to be a pawn. He certainly looked beautiful, his face looked like a doll's and his skin looked more delicate than anyone else's. Just being near him made rugged Anna feel dirty. What made it worse was that she lied to him about stealing some family treasures while trying to leave through his room. You said you were just passing through and he not only believed Anna, but brought her to his room just to have a conversation about life outside the manor.

"Why do you look forward to seeing me so much?" she asked. Even though he trusted her almost at first sight, suspicion was rife in her field.
Leo's bright smile was perfectly obvious. "Because I like talking to you! You're a nice person!"
There were so many times that Anna could have just been done with it. She could have just not shown up, she could have told him straight-up that she was a common thief. None of these things were even that hard and she stood to lose nothing if she cut him loose, but somewhere inside her conscience, Anna just couldn't stand to see Leo cry.
Poor, sweet Leo

Anna snapped out. These feelings were also bothering her. Feelings of...attachment towards this pointless little boy.

>>47636737
Thieves weren't supposed to get attached. Attachment meant compromising. Compromising meant loss, whether it be her life or his. She had to stop before he became too involved.

She climbed down from that windowsill with practiced ease into the surprisingly stark room. Aside from Leo's bed was a mirror, a desk, a nightstand, a chair, and a closet. Compared to the rest of the manor, this was all rather cheaply made, mostly wood with no gold filigree or elaborate carvings. Anna never asked why; she thought it rude to ask.
"Please, close the window before you take a seat," Leo asked before coughing, "it's cold tonight."
Anna complied and sat down. She would have insisted on keeping it open on account of the night actually being rather warm, but she relented for Leo's sake.
"So today, I told mom that I liked someone today!" He already began talking about his life. Despite looking so small and delicate, he always had something to talk about. "I said that there was a girl I knew who I thought was really cool, but when I told her, she looked really sad."
"Why is that?"
Leo coughed a bit as he drank a bit of water. "Mom said that I might have to leave soon, and that if I told her how I felt, it'd only make her feel sad when I leave."
Anna raised an eyebrow. She didn't overhear anything about moving from the guards. "Leave?"
He nodded his head. "I don't get it either. I asked if I could take her with us, but..." he looked down, "she said that it'd be really far away." He looked up at Anna again, "She also asked about the girl, but then I realized...I don't know that much about you, Anna."
"What did she need about me?" The thief's senses were already on edge. When someone was asking about her, it meant that a trap was already set.
"I said that her name was Anna and that...um, she was really adventurous!" Leo proudly announced. "I said that Anna knew a lot about the world, and she was an acrobat, but...I don't know anything else."

>>47637450
He had a rather rough cough before he could talk again. "So, Miss Anna, who are you?" It was concerning how much he had been coughing recently.

A hundred warning flags went off in that instant. It was a trap, Leo was going to spill about her history, they might even hunt her down by using Leo as bait. And that's just if she played her cards just right.
"Leo," Anna cautiously asked, her weight shifting uncomfortably, "what do you think I do?"
"What do I think?" He pauses. "I think Miss Anna is a scout for the government! I heard that they're really good at jumping on rooftops and entering doors nobody else can!" Again he coughed, and this time, she could have sworn she saw something before Leo threw his arms down, covering his sleeves. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Again, an opportunity came for Anna to just cut it off here. All she had to say was no. Again, her conscience robbed her cold logic of its grip and she just answered, "I am in a sense. Leo, are you okay? You seem to be coughing quite a bit recently."

Leo took a moment before he looked at Anna again. "I'll be fine! The doctors say that I just need to rest more, but it gets really boring just sitting here! Sometimes, I wish I was like you, Miss Anna."
Anna felt touched, but saddened. "Trust me, you don't, Leo." She placed a hand on his. "It's scary jumping on roofs and sometimes my job is dangerous."
"But if it's with someone like you, I'm sure that I'll be fine!" As Anna looked at the boy's confident face, she could almost notice a little red mark near his mouth. She brought up a gauntlet towards his face before Leo intercepted. "Oh, Miss Anna! If you insist!" He brought his lips toward the hand and touched it. "Thank you for that."

Anna looked at her finger and noticed a telltale red mark where he kissed her hand. She knew just what it was before she even tasted it: blood.
"Leo...you wouldn't hide something from me, right?" she tread carefully. "You know you can trust me, yes?"

>>47638451
He nodded enthusiastically.
"Then would you lie if I asked what you're sick from?" Leo froze. His face, which was vibrant up until now, suddenly lost all color from it. "Leo?"
"Mom said... Mom and dad said that I can't tell anyone what's wrong with me. The doctor said that it'll get better with time." Just to punctuate the irony of that statement, he coughed again.
"Leo, you look sick," Anna spoke up. "You need help!" She was about to leave when Leo grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"
"Miss Anna!" he insisted. "Miss Anna, please. The doctor will be back tomorrow. My family trusts him, so I'm going to as well."

Anna was going to say something no doubt witty to make Leo take the matter seriously, but that was lost when she noticed a peculiar red stain on the blanket. Her eyes shot wide at the implication of this stain: This disease was terminal.
Just like that, poor sweet Leo, precious Leo, became not just a nuisance, but one that hooked itself on Anna. Any sane person would have instantly washed their hands of Leo just out of fear for their health, but yet again, Anna was not able to.
"Oh my god..." she muttered, "Oh my god, Leo... I'm so sorry..."
"Miss Anna... No." His eyes dilated. "Please, not you too!"
Anna tried to calm down, "Leo, how long have you had this?"
"Miss Anna." Leo's breath was growing ragged. His grip on Anna was tightening by the second. "Miss Anna, I...I'm scared. I don't think I'll be well enough to make the trip my parents want me to go on." His face was getting closer. "Miss Anna... I don't think I want to go. Is...something wrong with me?"
"Leo..."
"I'm scared, Miss Anna," he buried his face on her shoulder. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to make you sad because I might not be coming back." Anna could feel something damp on her shoulder. "Miss Anna! Please, don't leave me!"
There was no turning back. Perhaps there never was for the thief. "Hey Leo, is there anything you want to do before you leave?"

>>47642803
To be alone is all you ever wanted.
He took you from your bed and made you what you are.
You can't control the entire right half of your body.
Of course that's how he would of wanted to leave you.
You took up his mantle when he finally passed, and that comes with the fair share of hunters looking for him, but they only find you.
You try to get them to leave with the constant rumors from forged letters you throw out, but they continue to come.
You've taken to making traps that continue to get deadlier and deadlier, until finally you can start counting the seconds it takes for the rest of them to leave the trapped.
Now they're here, here to revenge the one they left. The ones that were all rumored to have perished by your deranged hands.
You can't stop your body anymore, and you attack.
You only want to be left alone.

>>47640161
For a moment, the sniffling silenced. He looked up into Anna's pale blue eyes. "I want you to take me to your favorite place in the world."
"Eh?" Anna asked, "But Leo, you're too sick to go."
"Everyone keeps saying that." His breathing's starting to calm down. "It's always 'Leo, you can't do that, it's dangerous' or 'Leo, you can wait until after your trip'! I don't get why I can't do it! I don't think I can wait any longer!" He lifted his head to look straight at the thief, his eyes still wide. "That's why, Miss Anna, I want you to take me away from here, to feel what you feel when you walk on those rooftops."
"Are you sure about this, Leo?" It was impossible for her to say it now. There was no way she could admit that she was a thief without breaking his fragile heart.

Leo was about to say something, but another fit broke out. His coughing was more violent than ever, splattering a bit on her clothes.
"I'm sorry, Miss Anna," he apologized as he took another drink. "I must look pathetic, wasting away like this." His smile was clearly fake. He was struggling to keep himself together.
But it wasn't like Anna's was any more genuine. "It's okay, Leo." she finally stood up. "I...I need to go. I'll find a place for us, but you need to go to sleep."
"Eh!" he pouted. "But you just came here!"
Anna prodded Leo's forehead, pushing him down on the bed. "You need to go to sleep, young man! Even if you don't think it'll help you, you can't be hurting yourself!"
"Okay, Miss Anna..." he wrapped himself tighter in his sheets. "Good night!"
"Good night, Leo." Though she said she was leaving, she still had to stay until he actually fell asleep. It was something of a habit with him, and she played along. As soon as he fell asleep, Anna quietly powered herself over Leo and kissed his cheek. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, possibly to nobody. "I've been hiding the truth from you too."

The next day, she lost all motivation to go thieving. All she could think about was Leo.

>>47644446
It wasn't hard to tell for any members of the guild, her presence in an affiliated bar, drinking away her sorrows, was more than enough of a clue. She was visited by her mentor, an old prankster named Flint.

"Never seen you like this before, Anna," he commented as he took a seat in the bar. Anna was on her third round. "Usually you advocate keeping the mind sober."
"What does it matter, old man?" Her voice was gritty. "I've been lying to a lot of people, what's one more?"
"Just saying," he took a shot, "you don't usually get this drunk, even on the botched jobs."
Her red eyes looked up at him. "Tell me something I don't know."
"Wait, lemme guess," he held a hand up, "you've fallen in love with someone you robbed! Oh, Anna, I never thought you'd be following in my footsteps so earnestly!" Anna was still. "Um, Anna, this is the part where you make some snippy comeback like, 'I must have had a terrible choice of idols' or 'The footsteps were too obvious to miss'! Something!"
"Maybe I am," she muttered. "I've been lying to him the entire time. He thinks I'm with the crown!"
"Oh, is that all?" Flint raised a graying eyebrow in curiosity. "Well, not the worst thing of being accused of. Not like anyone's gonna die from it, right?"
Anna looked into her glass. "No, but he's dying. I don't know how long he has left, and I just got swept along into his world." Her head slammed the table. "I'm an idiot!"
Flint contemplated the dilemma between shots. "First time I heard that story. Look, Anna, I know the big hats keep talking about how connections are bad for business and how we gotta be loners, that's all a bunch of crap." His ex-apprentice was looking at him, which was a good enough start. "People are by nature looking for things to connect to. Trying to deprive that's damn-near impossible! So what if you like that guy but he's dying? We're all dying! Just make sure he spends his last days knowing neither of you regret anything!"

How would you handle reincarnation in a story?

Like, say the characters are reincarnations of people from hundreds of years ago.

>>47645878
>How would you handle reincarnation in a story?
That is a really broad question. There are no guidelines or rules about reincarnation, so you can pretty much do it in whatever way suits your story.

There are probably two main questions:
What are the mechanics of reincarnation (probably will need some metaphysic work: how, why and when are souls cycling - you don't have to explicitly explain it in the story itself, in fact it may be better not to - you still will want to have it figured out for consistency reasons).

And the second question which stems from the first one is how (and if at all) are memories and experiences revealed to the reincarnation. Basically, if you have people who are reincarnations of some previous person, what does that mean to them, and how and when will the fact that they are reincarnated even figure into the story.
Are the memories of the past life coming in dreams? In visions? During religious experiences? During stress? Are they vivid memories, or vague sentiments? Etc... etc... etc...

I presume the reincarnation plays an important role in the story. Ask yourself what and why, how is it relevant to the ark you are trying to build, and how much of it you want to be revealed to the reader.

Remember one thing: most amateur writers here on /v/ has a tendency to explain too much, rather than too little. They generally tend to cram exposition between the lines in order to paint as complete image as possible. You might want to watch out for that.

>>47645534
"He did have a request..."
Flint perked. "Well? Out with it."
"He...he wanted to see the one place I liked the most, where I felt the most like a scout. Before he dies."
"Well? You have a place?"
Anna thought. "I like hiding in the cathedral. I like hiding in the marketplace."
"Well, tomorrow the archbishop's showing up for a midnight service. Maybe that's something to look at?"
Anna looked at Flint. "Thanks for listening to me, Flint."
Flint chuckled and took a shot. "Just because you're not my student doesn't mean there's nothing left to learn! We should talk again!" He raised his glass.
"Probably." The glasses clinked.

Again, Anna found herself at the windowsill to Leo's room. She knew something was off by the guards' conversations. They said that they were supposed to be all present tomorrow at a local cemetery. They didn't remember any scheduled visits from former von Juliennes, but from what they knew, attendance was mandatory.
She couldn't shake off the image of Leo coughing up blood. There wasn't much she could do.

"Miss Anna," Leo looked more drained than usual. "Thanks for coming all the time." His coughing seemed more violent.
"Leo..." she approached the boy. "Leo, are you sure you want to leave?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow, Miss Anna. I don't have any time left to wait." He looked down at his hands. "Before I go, I just want to feel... I want to remember something besides this house."
"Alright then, Leo." she reached out a hand. "Can you stand?" Leo took her hand and stood up. He definitely looked ill, his frame looked more pallid and almost skeletal in appearance.
"See, Miss Anna? You don't have to worry!" Almost immediately, he was wrapped up in Anna's arms, feeling her crying loudly into his neck. "M-Miss Anna! What's wrong?"
"Leo! Leo, oh Leo!" She kept crying. "I can't stand this!"
"Miss Anna...please don't cry..." the boy's composure was faltering. "I-If you start crying, then... Then...!" And then it broke.

I was trying to write some fantasy encounters as though they were horror encounters, I'm pretty new to this:
"We had journeyed into the rocky hills to the east as the command of our lord after rumors began to spread of a strange beast haunting the hills. We eventually located the beast's cave, identifiable by the malformed rocks in its vicinity, evidence of some foul corruption or unnatural force. We sat and waited until, from the cave, emerged a long serpentine body, its sections of armour-like scales shifting and causing its every movement to be accompanied by the sound of scraping metal and stone. And then the beast breathed, its exhalation a foul miasma which blackened and warped the ground in front of the beast, as though it had been touched by an invisible flame of intense heat. It was at this point we fled, although behind me I became aware of a sound of a sail unfurling and then of colossal wingbeats. One of the members of our party screamed out in pain, I didn't dare look back to see what became of him, I would warn anyone to stay away from that accursed cave, and I pray to any god who will listen that the beast doesn't journey far."

"We were making our way across the plains when one of the boys looking after the houses started shouting about a light in the sky, when I looked over there was definitely something brighter than any star. Then I noticed it appeared to be coming closer, I ducked just as the ball of light and flame came within inches of my head. Squinting at the ball I saw two gouts of flame erupt as the orb seemed to unfurl, spreading like a bird in flight. Accompanying this was a new wave of heat and a cry, the screeches of a thousand burning beasts, the sole horse which hadn't bolted did so now, and like a spark rising from a bonfire the creature rose and vanished from sight."

>>47648301
"I trecked through the forest, following my usual game trails, late at night. I stopped when a heard a noise, when I looked I saw the stumbling silhouette of a man, I presumed him to be a lost traveler and called out, then the moon came out and bathed him in light. What I saw next is hard to explain, I was correct in my original observation about it having the shape of a man, but no man has hands elongated and sharp as his were, and in the light of the moon seemingly caked in dark blood. His flesh was torn and scarred, as though ripped apart from the inside, his face twisted into a bestial form, in a mixture of pain, fear and fury. He released a roar, showing as he did so his enlarged fangs, clearly far overgrown for his still human-sized jaw, and leaped. I don't know whether it was luck, the protection of some god, or my own skill which let me evade it, but I started sprinting and didn't stop until I had returned to the village."

>>47647186
The two of them were crying for what seemed like hours on end, apologies flooded out by tears, promises unable to be finished. They realized that this would be the last day they'd be together and even though her training gave her every opportunity to break free, to just abandon him, she couldn't even think of abandoning Leo anymore.
"Leo...kind, sweet, Leo..." Anna finally gathered the nerve to ask, "there's a place I want to show you. I want you to join me."
"Miss Anna, I'd love to!" A bit of vigor finally returned to his young face.
Anna lowered herself. "Then climb on my back and promise me that no matter what, you'll never look down. Got it?"
"I promise!" Leo climbed onto Anna's back and wrapped his arms around her. "Hehe, you're really warm."

Anna then fled the estate with little Leo in tow. Nobody seemed to notice her passing, her training was too good. Each leap upon the rooftops was met with a gasp of awe, each guard evaded elicited a sigh of relief, and each climb was met with a gaze of admiration. Along the way, Anna made up stories about her exploits, about protecting dignitaries from assassins and beating up corrupt cops who extorted shop owners. Leo gobbled up every word by the hook. Eventually, they reached the roof of the church, looking out at the skyline. They could see the entire city from this place, and Leo could definitely see his house from here.
"So, Leo," Anna explained, "There's two things we can do here: We can climb up a little further to the highest point in this entire city or we can go inside and listen to a mass." Leo looked at both of them, but before he could answer, he was coughing again. "Right, inside it is."

The windows were locked, but Anna knew a way inside that led them to the rafters above the Altar.
True to Flint's word, the archbishop was present. As it turned out, it was a state wedding, a high-ranking captain in the army was getting married. Everyone was exceptionally well-dressed except for them.

>>47648706
Looking at all the suits and dresses, especially the bride's, got Leo fidgeting.
"Leo, are you okay?" Anna picked up on this. Considering everything else she had to be on the lookout for, it wasn't as hard as she thought.
"It's nothing."
"Leo, this is your trip. If there's...anything you want, I promise I'll help you." She grabbed his delicate hands. "Please, I don't want you to regret anything."
Leo's smile was weak. "Thank you, Miss Anna. I really appreciate this, but...I already regret not doing something."
"Do you wanna climb up?" Anna asked. "I'm sure we can make it there before everyone starts leaving."
He shook his head as he looked at the people. "Miss Anna...I wish I met you a lot sooner. That way...maybe I wouldn't be sick. So I could properly tell you..." he choked himself back. "So I could say 'I love you' without being afraid!"

The revelation almost floored Anna. Even considering how close they got, despite Anna's attempts, nothing could have prepared her for those words. It was impossible, after all - he was the son of nobility, and she was a guttersnipe since birth without even a penny to her name. In all her years, all her heists, she never once counted herself interested in anything like romance.
"Leo," she began gathering her wits about her. "Leo, that...you shouldn't tease people like that!"
"Miss Anna, I've been charmed by you since the moment we first met," Leo crawled closer to the thief, who retaliated by backing away. "You were the first person who got close to me without being afraid, the only person who talked to me! I'm sure you have a bunch of suitors asking to marry you, but please... Just give me tonight. Before I go away, I just want to remember you for something!"
Anna found out soon enough that there was a limit to the rafters and was stuck watching Leo closing in. "Leo...you're surprisingly forceful for such a sick kid."
He smiled. "Because right now, there's only the two of us."

>>47653852
"You may now kiss the bride."

As the archbishop below pronounced these words and the two spouses consummated their kiss, Leo finally got close enough to kiss Anna as well. They held that position leaning on a beam for a few minutes, but for both of the intruders, it felt even longer than that. They were pressed so close together, Leo's light form pressing against Anna's with everything he could. As they broke off, Leo immediately began coughing. "I'm...sorry, Miss Anna." He wiped his mouth. "I don't know if you felt the same way about me, but believe me. I've always wanted to do kiss the first person I loved."

The entire confession dug deeper into Anna. This boy just confessed everything to him, his fears, his hopes, and his dream that will probably never be fulfilled. Leo bared all this, and yet look at Anna, the selfish girl who hid everything from the boy who loved her so.
Greedy, selfish, Anna.

Leo's coughing fits came worse, she noticed some blood dripping down to the audience below, who were noticing the fits upstairs. Hastily, Anna picked up Leo and ran away. They were back on the roof, near the ledge.
"Leo, what's wrong?" Leo's coughing didn't stop. "Oh my god! Leo, hold on! I'll find someone to help!" She began leaping from the rooftops with the ill boy on her back, coughing into her hood. She knew a doctor that the thieves' guild used a lot, a friend of Flint's.
"Doctor! Doctor Sevanne!" Anna barged through the door. "Doctor! You need to help my friend!"
The doctor, a wiry-haired gentleman of advanced age, snapped at attention. "Ach! Must you thieves always barge in like this? What is it that you needed to see me so..." The doctor then noticed the blood on Leo. "The deathly cough. Oh no...if he's already like this, then...where did you meet him, little Anna?"
"He...he was outside, near the church!" She lied.
"I'm sorry, but..." the doctor folded his hands. "At this point, there is nothing anyone can do for him."

>>47654591
"Oh no...not like this!" Anna gasped.
"M-Miss Anna..." Leo could finally speak a bit, though he was already looking drained. "Miss Anna, it hurts. I'm scared."
Sevanne looked on. "I wish I could offer you something, as a friend of Anna's, but...at this point, you're too far gone for it to work."
"We have to try something!" she pleaded, tears now in her eyes. "After all he's done for me, after all he's been looking forward to, I can't just let him die!"
The Doctor looked at them and turned around. "I'll see what I can do, but I cannot promise that it will work."

It was only Anna and Leo, and she knew that there wasn't much longer left.
"I'm sorry, Miss Anna," he weakly coughed. "Today was supposed to be a happy day, and it ended up like this because of me."
"Leo, don't talk." She grabbed a piece of cloth to wipe him up. "Leo..." her heart was pounding harder with each breath. "Leo, my kind Leo... I need to tell you something."
He coughed harder. "I trust you."
She took a deep breath. Now or never. Either way, he'd not be long for this world. "Leo, remember when I asked you what my job was?"
"You work for the government, right?"
Anna braced herself. "I don't work for the government. I'm... I'm a thief, a member of a guild of them who steal things and then sell them off to the highest bidder. I stole a mask from your parents that night, and if you didn't see me, I probably would have never come back." She grabbed his hand tightly. "I know you thought of me as this nice person who was going to save you and we'd live happily ever after, but I can't even help you right now. I'm so pathetic, having you spill everything while hiding the most important secret from you." Again, the tears came, but she tried her hardest to hold back, to try to look composed in front of him. "If you hate me for it, I'll leave. I'll tell the doctor to bring you home, and we can end it here." She hated herself for saying this, after so much hiding.

>>47655849
"Miss Anna, please don't cry." His hand was limp, but still Leo raised it. "You look so much prettier when you smile."
Anna stopped. "But... But I've been lying to you this whole time!"
Leo could only smile. "But you came back for me. You talked to me. You even took me from my room, the only room I've ever known, to a place I've only dreamed of seeing." His hand shook, and before it fell, she grabbed hold of it. "I don't regret saying what I said for even a second. You're the nicest person I've ever met, and the prettiest."
Anna had been bested by this innocent little boy. After every fear, every obstacle she threw in the way, all he could admit were his simple feelings. She bowed her head in defeat. "You're really unfair."
"So were you." He tried to lift his head to reach Anna, but she finished the journey and locked their lips.

That would be their last kiss.
The doctor's special mixture of herbs and acids proved ineffective, and as he feared, all they could do is watch Leo waste away until he breathed his last. The entire time, Anna held his hand, trying to ease his pain by talking. The last thing he asked was that his parents placed him in the family tomb. The morning was spent in utter silence, with Doctor Sevanne leaving Anna to be alone with the boy.
That afternoon, Anna carried Leo's lifeless body across the streets to the von Julienne manor. People were terrified of the scene, guards hounding her on every step, but she persisted with carrying him to his only family. Once she reached it, she simply lowered the body, kissed him farewell, and fled.
The city flooded with controversy: Did she abduct and kill the boy? Was she only saving him? How did nobody notice? Why did she run? Why carry him at all? The von Juliennes said nothing about the affair, just that they were relieved to find at least something.

Anna wanted none of it. She returned to the guild and locked herself in her room. That evening, she only let her door open for one man: Flint.

>>47656922
"Heard about what happened," he opened up as he passed a glass over. "Didn't think it'd be such a prettyboy, but if he made you happy..."
"He loved me," she could only mutter. "He said he loved me even though I put him through so much."
"Kid's a saint, I'll give him that." He put an arm around his student. "To give a cold mother like you something to feel for, never thought it'd be possible."
Anna didn't hear any of it. "Do you think I did the right thing?"
"Course you did. You gave someone who didn't have a hope in hell a little fun before he kicked it." Flint huddled her closer. "And I say, anyone who says that it wasn't right? To hell with those bastards! They keep forgetting that we don't have that much time on earth."

They just sat there, Anna just occasionally taking sips and falling asleep on Flint. When next she woke up, she hugged her mentor.
"Do you think he's happy?" was the first thing she asked.
Flint smiled. "For getting to know a lass like you? He'd be a fool not to." He left first, and Anna followed behind him. "Now come on. You still have a job to do."

As she left, she coughed once.

Aaaaand NOW it's over.

>>47642133
The trailer struggled to cut through the sand. The wheels buried themselves and whined constantly as they parted the grains.

Rin tried to pay the noise no attention. They had been traveling in the trailer for some time and between the sweat and the noise Rin was ready to murder someone. Meditating didn't help. The armor he wore had enough coolants to keep away a heat stroke but not enough to make him comfortable.The heat dug into his body, sweat coating his skin and when he tried to go inward it carried him out back to the heat.

His drivers did not suffer from the same issues. They wore the same armor that Rin did but they had the demeanor of men in a situation much more comfortable than their current one. They chatted with each other despite the heat and a jar of spiced pickles sat between the two command chairs. Occasionally they would reach in to eat one, Rin flinching every time they did.

Rin didn't like desert worlds. For one thing they were deserts and usually with enough suns that the pleasant side effect of artic cold nights were far and few between. And if wasn't for the job he'd be on ice at the moment, blood freezing in his skin as he heatbeat slowed.

"So Mr.Rin," The driver he had come to know as Baldy said. ".you okay back there?"

His copilot elbowed him in the ribs. "It's not Mr.Rin, it's Mr.Kuro."

"What?"

"Kuro Rin." The copilot said. "Japanese. First name is last name, second name is first name. So call him Mr.Kuro."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." The copilot replied. "Japanese."

The pilot bobbed his head a couple of times, absorbing the information and looked back at Rin. "Is that true Mr.Rin?"

"Technically." Rin said. "I'm not Japanese but we follow the same naming conventions."

"That's interesting Mr.Rin." Baldy said. "I'll keep that in mind.

The trailer was silent. The whine of the tires started to pick up volume, in the absense of voices and after a moment the copilot spoke up again. "Did I not just tell you his last name is fu"

>>47657381
They erupted into another argument, their accents mixing into each other until they ceased to be two people. Rin closed his eyes and let the voices pass over him, the sound taking away the sweat and heat.

The two of them were idiots. Rin had figured that out the second he saw at the spaceport, trying to court scavers to enroll their services. They were not bad men. Rin felt for what he would do to them.


The argument about Japanese names and two others began and ended before the wheels started to quiet down. The desert outside the windows did not start to give away to anything but from the sand structures began to sprout. Metal spires, some broken and others almost untouched, took away the emptiness of the desert and instead replaced it with a rainforest made by men, reaching so high into the sky they blotted out the sun.

Rin looked at them curiously. He had never seen anything like them on Jenko. Tradition was tradition and even the corporate areas never made any real attempts to assert themselves over the cold. The metal struck him as blasphemous at first, than a curiosity before settling into scenery he would try his best to remember when the job was done.

"Welcome to the metal forest Mr.Rin."

"Baldy!"

"What?"

Before another squabble could break out between the two, Rin stood and walked into the cockpit. Baldy and Shogun stopped talking and taking advantage of their silence Rin overlaid his map on the one in the dash.

"Mr.Rin?"

The dot beeping on his map was close. Within a mile give or take depending on how good the local satellite array was.

"Mr.Kuro?"

"This is where you guys are going to earn your paycheck." Rin said. "Look for a ship. Old but distinctively human."

"A ship?"Baldy said.

"Yes a ship. Salvage. Get me to it in the next ten minutes and there's a bonus to you."

Greed didn't appear in their eyes but a healthy appreciation for money did. They hunched over in their seats and scanned the horizon for wrecks.

>>47657400
"Is that it Mister Rin?" Baldy said after a moment. He pointed to a vague shape through the windshield.

"No, that's a tree."

"And that one?"Shogun said.

"No,"Rin said turning to face him,"that's not."

Rin stopped mid sentence.

"Mr.Kuro?"

It was a wreck, buried in the sand, falling apart but still a technological marvel. It dwarved the trailer by degrees, the technology that allowed it to fly draping its side and it almost perfectly aligned with the dot on the map.

"That's it."

"It is?"Baldy said.

Rin nodded his head and Baldy throttled the engine surging towards it. Rin grabbed the command chairs with either hands to avoid being thrown backwards and Shogun started to yelp. If he had a gun, Rin was sure he would have started shooting it.

The end came thankfully fast. The car stopped, Rin tripped and was all but trampled by Baldy and Shogun in their rush to leave the car. By the time he got up and out they were already up the dune with the ship jumping up and down in excitement.

They were idiots. Rin had known idiots before. Some were ignorant, some were malicious and others were just kind people who happened to be dumb. Baldy and Shogun fell squarely into that last one.

Rin hesitated before fetching his comm. He pushed three buttons and waited patiently as the call connected.

There was a beep and a tinny voice came over the speakers."Rin?"

"I found the ship. "

"Witnesses?"

Rin said nothing.

"Rin?"

"Two." Rin said. "Just two scavers. They're harmless though, won't tell a soul if I pay them enough."

There was silence on the line. The voice on the other end didn't reply and didn't have to.

"They really are harmless. They didn't even know what Jenko was before I told them."

>>47657410
The line cut off and all Rin heard was the steady buzz of a strong signal.

Baldy and Shogun were still dancing as Rin made his way around the back of the trailer where his bags were. He had no guns or missles but he did have one weapon he had been able to sneak in. It was buried under a pile of clothing, in a long black box and he gently removed it from the bag before placing it on the ground.

The sword inside was modern metal. Slightly curved, because tradition was tradition and just as deadly as any lazer or gun. He took it out, pulled the blade out to look at it's edge and snapped it back shut.

It had never occurred to him before how ugly it looked. It wasn't gleaming steel or had the air of craftmanship. It was stamped and made from moulds that produced thousands of twins on a daily basis. It looked like a weapon.

"Mr.Rin!" A voice echoed over the sand. "Are you coming?"

Rin placed the blade along the side of his leg and began to make his way to the voices.

>>47661869
May dread be heaped upon the Doom Slayer
For his might is most horrific
May fear be due to the Doom Slayer
For none have survived his wrath

Perhaps it was folly
Destroying his world
Our fate perhaps sealed
As we let him away

We thought none could oppose us
We thought ourselves as gods
Proved most wrong when he came
Wreaking havoc ruinous

We learned of home's weapons
As he tore through our ranks
With chainsaws and plasma and rockets
Leaving only scattered remains

Our mightiest warriors
Reduced to mere gore by him
Our great Icon of Sin
Supposedly slain from within

In desperate last hopes
We sealed him in a tomb
Even this could not stop him
He was freed again to visit ruin

So take heed spawnlings, listen well:

Should you see the Doom Slayer, escape him
To fight him is to seal your own death
To catch his eye is to be hunted

Till such a time where he is freed
And returns to Hell nevermore
Tell all who roam the wastes of Hell
To be wary of he who is our Doom, for he is truly evil.

>>47652590
Armored-Prophet Jesiah Amon clapped his armored gloves together and turned to address his procession
"Alright lads and ladies, stay on your toes and be vigilant, we're in a witch village. You know what that means: no drinking, no wandering off, and if you hear singing then you start chanting. Hunt-Mistress Williams, a word with you."

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>>47670842
If someone could continue this for themselves, I'd appreciate it.

>>47667993
19: Run Away, Run Away
73: Duel
24: Ride of the Valkyries
13: Fuck Yeah, We're Winning
...
give me a moment while I try to figure this one out

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>>47667993
>65. ADVENTURE!
>84. Monster Hunt
>10. FNG? Wossat mean?
>18. Sneak

Rolled 18 (1d100)

>>47671850
Rollin'

Rolled 36 (1d100)

>>47672338

Rolled 70, 14 = 84 (2d100)

>>47672356
Testing...

>>47672371
So.

1.Sneak
2.Traitor
3.Discovery
4.Idiot teammates

Heist comedy?

>>47667993
testing this roll thing out

Rolled 1 (1d100)

>>47672564
Maybe this will work...

>>47670842
>>47671104

I'll do this one tomorrow when I wake up

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Dangerously close to being archived again.

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>>47667993

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>>47670842
>>47673855

Kory sighed when Amon called her name. She rolled her head, and stepped forward to the armored man. He led her away from the rest. She turned back and looked at the rest of the men, shivering in the rain.

“Yes, sir?” she asked. She ran her hand along the stake strapped to her hip.

“I want this one to go smoothly, Williams,” he said. He didn’t take off his helmet. Kory liked that. Matched with his armor, it made his head look small. Same as the rest of the men. Kory looked down at her own armor—just a bit of leather with some metal gauntlets. She smirked.

“You telling me it didn’t go smoothly last time, sir?” she asked. She knew the answer.

“No, Williams,” he said. “I would say it most certainly did not go smoothly.” He crossed his arms across his chest. Kory bit her lip. “This time you’ll do exactly what I say when I say it.”

“Whatever you say, sir,” she said. She pulled out a cigarette and lit it. She got one good puff in before Amon tugged it out of her mouth and threw it on the ground. Kory scowled. “I roll those myself, sir.”

“I’m not having any of this insolence today, Williams,” he barked. “We’re here for a job. Specifically your job. I don’t understand why you must make this difficult.”

Kory sighed. “Yes sir,” she said. “Sorry sir. Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”

They returned to the rest of the men. She walked back up to Wally. She pulled out another cigarette and offered him one. They both lit it and puffed. “So what’d the Prophet want, Kory?” he asked.

“To chew another chunk out of my ass,” she said. “Same as always.” She sighed again. “I hate this job.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Wally said. “At least you can actually, you know, stand a chance against the shit we fight. I’d kill to have what you got.”

>>47680499
“Trust me, Wally,” she said. “You’d take that back if you kne…” the whispers started again. Scratching at the back of her head. She spat the cigarette out and started walking to the front of the group.

“Korinna?” Wally asked. Kory ignored him. The whispers started getting louder. It was only a matter of time. She walked back up to Amon. He was surveying the village.

“It’s starting, sir,” she said. Fog blew out from under his helmet when he sighed. The whispers scratched and clawed.

Amon breathed in. “Oh, what a day to be alive,” he said. Kory rolled her eyes. Amon turned to the men. “Fan out men, we’re going hunting. Remember, the Lord protects.” A dozen aching, shivering bodies marched through the street.
The singing started soon after.

It was sweet, almost heartbreaking at first. Sung in the beautiful old tongue the witches liked. But Kory knew what it did. And so did the men. They started their chants. A lot of “By Your strength’s” and “Guide my blade’s” and all other kinds of nonsense. Kory had a simpler option. She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. She let her mind empty, and the singing stopped. Everything stopped. All she heard were the whispers. And they got louder.

Kory surged ahead. She patted Amon on the pauldron and pointed where they had to go. The men marched behind her. They came up to a door to a large, dilapidated home. It slouched to one side. The men were still chanting. Or at least their mouths were moving. She stepped back and let the men stack up. Among stepped forward and with one kick the door fell off its hinges. Half the men filed in, the rest fanned out in front of the door. The whispers roared in her ears.

>>47680538
Kory looked around. The men were no longer chanting. She let sound return to her. No one said a word. The stench of mildew and rotting wood assaulted her nose. She looked up. The whispers screamed. She could almost see the witches through the ceiling. She pointed to a stair case. She let them guard her. Some in front. Some behind. Wally was right in front of her. They reached the stop of the stairs. She guided them to another door. They kicked it down.

Half the men gasped.

There were three witches. Two looked young, healthy. They knelt before a circle. Floating above both, a third witch writhed and groaned. Her limbs were horrifyingly long, ending in hideous claws. Feathers started growing out from her arms, and her face was taking on a disgusting, angled appearance. Kory’s stomach dropped. They were making a raven.

The two witches on the ground looked up and their eyes widened. The men fell on them immediately.

“No, not yet you dumbfucks!” she yelled. “Let me get in the—“ the men didn’t listen. Amon the rest hacked the two women to pieces. Kory closed her eyes. She drew the stake. The cold, metal weight of it felt good in her hand.

The third witch shrieked, and everyone fell over. It dropped to the ground. Kory got up. She turned and helped Wally to his feet. As the men started standing up, they stared at the thing. It lay there, cradling itself.

It started laughing.

>>47680568
Kory stepped forward, raising the stake. If she could get it now, it’d be over. She stood over it, ready to lunge.

The thing was fast. It swept one of its arms around and knocked her down. It jumped up, and tried to bring a clawed foot down on Kory’s face. She rolled away. Kory looked around and saw a nightstand. She reached out, and with the faintest command it flew across the room and smashed into the creature. It shrieked again. Kory got to her feet.

The men circled around the witch. It hissed at them. It must’ve been eight feet tall. It batted its claws at them. It backed into a corner. It almost looked afraid. Kory didn’t smell any fear in it.

Wally took the lead. He pointed his sword at the beast, chanting his prayers. The whispers chuckled. “Wally,” she breathed. “No, don’t!” Too late. Wally lunged forward, trying to strike it. The thing slashed across him, tearing through his armor. Wally fell down, writhing. “Wally!” Kory yelled. “Oh God, no!”

Kory lunged forward. She reached out again and tore up a floorboard, hurling it at the witch. It recoiled and Kory slashed its arm with the stake. It hissed and growled at her. Kory sneered at it and held the stake out. Black blood dripped from it.

It tried to strike her. That wouldn’t work. Kory jumped away. The two stood there, eyes locked. The whispers yelled and scratched in her mind. Kory’s free hand twitched. She was ready.

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>>47680582
Except she wasn’t. The thing surged forward. It grabbed her. She felt her back smash against the wall. Then something else. Something squishy, but still hard. She looked up and saw the dark clouds. Rain smattered against her face. Kory looked up. They were in the street, splattered in mud. She turned her head, and saw the witch lying there. It was scraped and bloodied. Kory looked frantically for the stake. She sat up and grunted. Some ribs were definitely broken.

The witch lunged at her again. It pinned her, claws digging into her. Its hideous face was inches from her own. Kory spat into its eye. It growled, and she swung her fist up, punching it harder than even Amon could probably manage. Teeth flew out of its mouth and it toppled over.

Now it was Kory’s turn. She swung around straddled it. She punched harder and harder, letting her mind guide her fists. She groped around, and found a chunk of brick. She grabbed it, and brought it down. And then again. And again. Black blood spattered all over her. It stopped writhing. Kory sat there on the thing, breathing hard. She slumped over, and fell back into the mud. She lay there for a moment, letting the rain patter against her face.

Then she stood up, and wincing, limped over to a wall. She fished in her pocket and found a crumpled cigarette. She straightened it. She couldn’t find her matches. No matter. She pinched the end, and smoke rose from between her fingers. Kory took a long drag.
The whispers had stopped.

>>47680620
quite good. The story was okay, if a little by the numbers, but the action was competently executed. The characters didn't really jump out at me, and the dialogue was okay at best, but the writing itself - descriptions, pacing, paragraphs, etc, etc, was almost without flaw, except for the odd typo, e.g.

>Amon the rest hacked the two women to pieces

overall very good work

>>47682790

Typos were mostly me acting quickly to get it out before the thread archived.

Kory is a character I've kicked around in my head for awhile. Basically I've just imagined a "book dumb strung out fantasy heroine". Basically a tuff gurl archetype but without the rote, predictable personality quirks.

She needs a lot of dialogue to stand out, and in this scenario I couldn't really give her much beyond standard "soldiers saying soldier stuff while soldiering" which is admittedly a situation I absolutely hate writing. But that's the situation the original guy set up for me. She'd shine better in a tavern, or any other situation where she has to talk to people.

The biggest thing I wanted to communicate about her from the action scenes is she's not "graceful" or "skilled" and fights more like a wild animal than anything else.

And looking back, if I could revisit it I'd probably drop
>At least you can actually, you know, stand a chance against the shit we fight. I’d kill to have what you got
It's just a transparent way to establish she had powers, and it's not necessary. It also does nothing to further Wally's character. It's basic redshirt speak, and it doesn't sound anything like a normal human conversation.

>>47667660
https://onedrive.live.com/redir?page=view&resid=39FCF96599C7EF13!1313&authkey=!AIMDaEwAiFmjSkM

(WIP)

>>47687072
interesting. cute scene

when you're done, post it in the thread. We desperately need the bumps

>>47687763
So, would this be the best place to re-post an old, sliiightly tweaked but still not the best-written piece of 40k writefaggotry? I've been trying to summon the motivation to do another 40k thing, whether a writefag thread or a first-time quest, I dunno. I've been revamping my 40k ideas quite heavily recently and have yet to make a final decision on some things like specific world names, chapter-structures, etc. So you could say I have a ton of pieces, but they aren't assembled yet.

>>47688411
Eh, why not?
Not like there's a lot of other people writing here.

>>47688531
Alrighty then. I'd say I hope for feedback, but this story is an old one for me anyway. Can't say it's anything special.
-------------------------------------

Cold. That was all he felt at first; the biting cold. The next was the uncomfortable wetness of snow on exposed skin. He tried to open his eyes, but shut them at the touch of the frigid air. Slowly he tried to open them again. It was uncomfortable, but he knew he had to bear it. He was disoriented, and his hearing was still coming back to him. Carefully, he applied his strength in his arms, trying to push himself up. It was painful; too painful. He settled instead for simply picking his head up from the snow-covered ground. The presence of a small wind just made things even more uncomfortable. What had happened? How did he get here?

>>47688683
It took him a few moments to fully recall what had occurred only minutes before. He and some of the other conscripts and whiteshields had met-up with regulars from the Guard. They were swiping some abandoned vehicles – not the first time for the conscripts either – to expedite their retreat to their own lines. He ended-up finding a corner in the regular’s truck that he could squeeze into. Everything was going fine at first until they came under fire from pursuing vehicles. That was when a stray shell of some sort smashed into the ground next to their truck, sending it flying off of the road.

And somehow, despite his small body, he managed to survive. Weakly, he managed to right himself and sit in the snow. He looked back at the smashed wreck of the truck he had been riding in and saw the bodies of several Guardsmen laying near. He scanned the area, an expanse of snow surrounding him, covering the ground all the way to the tree-line some one or two-hundred feet away. He wasn’t sure exactly. His young eyes continued searching his surroundings as he weakly tried to summon his voice.

>>47688721
“Hello?!” he finally called-out. He nearly fell into a fit of coughing from the scratching sensation his efforts produced in his throat. He waited, swallowing to try and clear the feeling before trying again. “Is anyone out there?”

Where were his comrades? Sure the truck was destroyed, but what about the personnel carrier?

“Clyde? Lucas? Anybody?” Still no response.

“…Commissar Priscus?” He could just hear the commissar’s angry voice, yelling at him for being a lost conscript. No mercy for the young in this army.

The lost child-soldier tried to push himself along the snow, the aches from his short flight from the hill having fully set in by now. That was when the sound of the snapping of a fallen-branch reached his ears, but just barely. He turned to look back towards the trees from where it had come.

Pushing its way through the trees was a hulking figure. It was covered in metal painted red, a horned helmet with glowing eyes covered its head and some form of axe was held in its hand. But the weapon was no ordinary axe, and its wielder no ordinary man.

The figure became more visible, revealing a Chaos space-marine. In that moment, the young conscript’s heart sank. All the actions he had partaken in, all the incredible situations he and his fellow draftees had managed to survive despite their lowly status – now he faced what for even many seasoned Guardsmen was the stuff of nightmares.

“Shit…!”

>>47663002
>Marching through the Snow, Tired to the Bone.
"Cap..." Randy began, holstering his rifle. "Snow's starting to mess with our laser comms. I'm gonna have to pull our scouts in."

"Can they do without comms? We need those eyes forward."

"We could, but not much point if they can't check in."

"Raziod thinks the storm's gonna get worse 'fore it gets better." Thomas butted in. The nice thing about having a smart panzer was, it could predict the weather with some accuracy. "More snow, and hail, it thinks. We should see about gettin' some shelter, soonest."

"Chances?"

"More than even, is all it'd say. That an' 'Insufficient Data'." For not the first time, Thomas wished they could dare hack into a passing satellite and get some overhead shots, build up a proper forecast.
Hell, they probably could, if they ever wanted a quick death by ortillery. The panzer certainly had enough processing power.

"'Bout the only thing we're not low on is food, sir." Randy chimed in again. "And water, if you don't mind eating snow." He didn't dare mention lighting a fire.

",,,Fine. Randy, you said the bluff ahead had some caves?" He waited for Randy to nod. "We're sheltering there. Take an advance party and secure us a cave. Something close to ground level."

"Yessir." Randy jogged off back into the woods.

"How long are we staying?" Thomas hadn't left. He stayed in place.

"We move out the moment the storm clears."

"...Sir," Thomas leaned in, " if you don't mind me askin'?"

"Go ahead."

"Where exactly are we headed? We've been marching three days nonstop. We've been evading the enemy like the plague. We haven't been able to resupply at all. An' we know the Spacy's not coming back, not fast enough to save our hides. Why don't we surrender?"

The Cap didn't answer for a long moment. When he did, it was with an uncharacteristic hesitation.

>>47688957
He thought back to how he had ended-up in his cruel assignment in the first place. He’d had the unfortunate luck of being plucked up by the Guard when recruiters looking for conscripts came to his world. It didn’t help that he and many others had recently been separated from their parents by an attack. When they decided they had taken enough of the grown-men, they decided to deplete the juvenile population instead, for whatever reasons they kept to themselves. Training – if you could call it that – was dismally minimal. He and the other conscripted children were basically given a tunic, a helmet, elbow and knee guards, footwear that was halfway between shoes and boots, a lasgun and basic instructions on how to shoot it. Then it was off to the grinder. And what a grinder it had been.

For him and the rest of the curiously large squad-nine, most of this campaign was fought with the majority of them not even being sure what the name of the planet was half the time. It was actually called Attica – or at least that is what they were told – not that it made much difference for them.

Oh, they had been lucky, so very lucky. In fact it had even caused a commissar or two to be suspicious that they were taking advantage of their allies or receiving foul-aid, but no such evidence ever showed. While their conscript brigade and its components had taken casualties, theirs had suffered the fewest. In fact, they had even won a few actions instead of just maneuvering around the field of battle trying to stay alive. They’d even managed to get an abandoned tank rolling on one occasion, not that their commanders let them keep it once they regrouped with the main force.

>>47688958

"Thomas, I've got a specific destination in mind. I can't tell you, or anyone else, what it is until we get there. " A long, hissing breath through the regulator. " For fear of your capture, see. What I can tell you is, we're only two days out now. Not," He tossed his head to indicate the blackening clouds overhead, "counting interruptions."

Thomas thought a bit. "...I think we'll hold out two or three more days. Not much longer, though."

"Limiting factor?"

"Morale, sir. We're all tired to the bone."

>>47688531
>>47688958
Uh, considering I'm copy/pasting a seven-page Word document, and others are posting again, should I shuffle on over into a new thread?

>Mfw I don't know how to link a post to one in another thread.

>>47689056
Nah, keep posting here. Just link over your posts so we can keep track as to which ones are yours.

>>47689070
k
>>47689017
And now it had come to this. He was looking at death itself, and he was the only soul on the menu right now. How he wished there had been a rocket-launcher in the truck. That just might ruin his foe’s armor.

Just when this thought crossed his mind, he noticed something about his approaching enemy.

He was discarding his helmet, the cermet shell having been mangled earlier, presumably by the young soldier’s comrades’ weapons. He also lacked a bolter. Had he run out of ammo or was it damaged?

‘Who cares’ he thought to himself; the Chaos warrior lacked a ranged weapon, end of story. And that wasn’t all. He was pressing a hand against his right abdomen, where his armor looked like it had been stripped-away. Blood was already crusted all over the site of the damage. And he was favoring his left leg, very noticeably. This heretic space-marine was considerably wounded.

‘I-I still have a chance!’

>>47689104
Though even wounded, his enemy could rend him into bloody paste within moments. But a slim-chance is still a chance.

He desperately started looking around him. He needed a weapon, and he needed it five minutes earlier. Digging around in the snow wherever he saw pieces of equipment he managed to find a lasgun. He hastily retrieved it from the pale mush and turned onto his back. He still had his weight against the ground, for the pain had not subsided and he was having trouble rising-up on his legs. He brought the stock of the weapon up to his shoulder and raised a knee to steady the rifle.

He tried to calm his nerves, but his young mind still felt the grip of fear and his aim quivered. He tried as best he could to time the shot just right – when the sights ‘cut the target in half’ as they say – and right as they drifted over the large collar-section of the target, he pulled back the trigger and didn’t let go.

*Fizzz!* The beam was not on-course, and only damaged the surface of the armor well below the warrior’s neck. He didn’t even bother to raise an arm to protect his exposed face.

The boy tried again to steady himself. He needed every shot to count; grazing hits weren’t going to cut it. He prepared to fire again.

*Fizzz!* His aim was improved this time. The shot landed high on the traitor-astartes’ large collar, burning the encasing materials. But he still needed to do more damage. Not letting his position falter, he waited for just the right moment as the sights rose and fell with his breathing.

*BZZT!* His only reward was a fizzling sound within the weapon. Confused and mouth slacking, he turned the weapon over as he examined it and discovered to his horror that the power-pack had been damaged.

‘WHAT?! N-no! No no no! You’ve gotta’ be KIDDING me!’

>>47689175
The servant of foul-Chaos laughed at the sight. Taunting him as he approached, he called-out. “When I get hold of you, you’ll be my next sacrifice to Khorne. Then I can remove my wounds and return to the REAL slaughter! Take solace in knowing that you served the will of gods whelp!”

This had the effect the marine was hoping for. The boy started searching again in a frenzy; in just moments the heretic would be upon him and he’d not be able to run. He pulled himself up the gentle incline, pieces of the over-turned truck and its equipment scattered about. Toolkits had spilled all over the incline, but wrenches and screwdrivers weren’t going to save him. He pulled himself behind some large debris, a few sandbags laying-about close to the wrecked truck.

He hastily went through what few supplies he could find as the blood-thirsty giant continued to amble towards him. What he found amounted to a laspistol with pistol-sights that looked bent out of alignment, two frag grenades, and a container full of fuel, but he did not know what grade. He lowered his head for a moment, trying to collect his nerves. Looking around again, he noticed the spilled toolkits.

‘A wrench won’t help, but maybe…’

He took a deep breath, and prepared to make his stand.

>>47689216
The Chaos marine was getting closer. He was at the base of the incline now. The young conscript propped himself up against the bags giving him some concealment and drew the fuel-container to his chest. Whatever came of this, this would be the place where fate would decide if he will live or die. Such is the cruelty of the age that the blood of a child is placed in such a callous scene.

“Well…Ave Imperator.” He gripped the container once more before hurling it as best his weakened body could manage.

The heretic watched it tumble down unconcernedly at first, thinking no threat of it. Until he realized that something was duct-taped to the container; something small, grooved, and shaped sort of like a pineapple, kind of like a grenade.

He quickly twisted and stumbled away, having no desire for flames to lick at his wounded flesh. The armed grenade detonated with an impressive boom for its size. Exploding within feet of the heretic, it sent shrapnel flying all about, the ignited fuel from the gas-can creating a brief roar as it momentarily engulfed a small area in flame that struggled against the freezing wind.

The conscript picked his head up over the sandbags, trying to see through the smoke his improvised incendiary had just created. He hoped, however vain his hope might be, that it was already over; that the bomb had done enough damage to finish off the marine.

His hope was very forlorn indeed.

“RAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!” The superhuman warrior screamed in anger. The flames had indeed reached him, and they did lick at his wounds and exposed flesh with a searing touch. But it was not enough to put him down. Now he was enraged, and beginning to ignore his injuries.

“You little bastard! I was just going to kill you before; now I’m going to torture you first!”

>>47689270
___________

Part of the reason for my slow pace is not just the posting buffer, but the fact that I'm catching embarrassing spelling-errors and other shit along the way, even though I'm kind of skimming just to make sure I'm posting the right paragraphs each time.

Feel free to chime in if anyone wants to. I'll toss the next bit up in a minute.

>>47667993
Lets see here.

>>47689270
He didn’t cover his abdomen now, nor did he favor one leg any longer. Warp-driven rage at the actions of what to him was a meaningless insect removed any care for those things. All he cared about now was getting the blood he desired.

The child was running out of options. With little choice left, he raised the las-pistol and started firing as quickly as he could, praying that its power-pack didn’t fail like the last one.

*Fizz!* A hit to the right arm.

*Fizz!* The right shoulder.

*Fizz!* A glancing hit against the torso.

*Fizz!*A hit against the heretic’s raised left arm, protecting his face and damaged collar.

Each shot became slightly more accurate, but only because the undaunted marine drew closer and closer. Finally, he tired of the conscript’s nicking attacks and angrily hurled his axe at the boy. The weapon spun through the air and slammed into the top of the bags.

“Uaghk!” The air forcefully fled his lungs as he was knocked back by the impact of the warp-tainted weapon. Looking down from where he lay on his back he saw that the axe had broken through his meager defense, but he did not have the time to check his injuries.

The Chaos-Astartes was upon him, his eyes glowing angrily as a large armored hand reached down and plucked him from the ground. His beaten body ached, as his equally battered mind began to think the world was slowing down. He could see them; those daemonic eyes full of hatred for him for causing this attacker trouble and wounding him further. He peered through squinting eyes at the sight of death. If he was going to try something, anything, this was his last chance to scream-out against his apparent fate and grab-on to life.

>>47613821
Thanks!

>although I didn't see the need to bring Fae into it. could have just as easily called it an old god or a demiurge or something

Well, to be fair, the characters called him a fae creature, I never do. Whether that means the King of Bones is fae as you know them, or whether it's just what they call old gods/demiurges/nature spirits/etc. up to the reader.

Also, taking new prompts and story requests!

>>47689486
The heretic bared his sharp teeth at the child.

“A skull for the skull-throne!” he proclaimed, bringing his prey’s head toward his mouth, intent on wrenching the child’s skull from its neck with his teeth alone.

Something in the boy clicked. Making one last, desperate bid at a Hail-Mary save he plunged something in his hand at the heretic’s left eye, the foreign object piercing-true and embedding itself in an ocular-socket.

It was a screwdriver.

The warrior screamed and tossed his prey aside, screaming curses at him when he realized something he had just missed. The boy had slammed his other hand against his armor just as the metal tool struck him in the eye. With his good-eye, he looked down as far as he could.

A grenade was jammed into the hole the las-rifle had made in his collar-armor earlier.

The boy rolled-over onto his stomach, debris rolling-by when the grenade exploded. The blast ripped-open the front of the astartes’ neck and nearly severed his head entirely, ruining most of his face and managing to send shrapnel into his brain. The hulking warrior fell to the ground with a thud, a wet, gurgling and deathly rasp of air the only sound that escaped his shredded vocal-cords as his lungs emptied.

The child peered over the debris after turning onto his side, now even more shaken from being so close to the blast. He too had been struck by the fragmentation-shrapnel that was previously housed in his little trump-card. But what little armor protected his back, the distance and the angle of the blast allowed him to escape the worst of it, being a little outside of the kill-radius. He managed to say one last thing before rolling onto his back in exhaustion.

“Ave Imperator…ugly bastard.”

>>47689530
He lay there, almost motionless, trying to catch his breath and recoup his strength. But his strength did not return like he hoped. Finally having the chance, he looked down to examine himself. The blow from the chain-axe had lacerated him across his abdomen, and he was bleeding from the wound. He also finally became aware of wounds suffered earlier. While they were not bleeding much, with his new injury the blood loss would slowly but surely threaten his life.

And yet, despite his victory…he could not manage to get up.

His vision hazed as he lost track of the passage of time. His thoughts drifted. To his comrades; the constant assessments by the Commissar and the conscripts’ commanding-officer; his squad-mates; his home; the smell of fresh-food his mother had cooked while he was out. The songs they would listen to.

His vision began to fade completely now as sleep overtook him. He tried to fight it. He tried as hard as his young heart could manage. But it was for naught; a slumber claimed his mind as he drifted away from consciousness.

And he feared he would not wake from this dream.

>>47689561
____________

Taking a short break while I check the next part and maybe get some water. Any thoughts from other insomniac-anons?

>>47616594
>>47689327
"My brother wasn't satisfied with just the crown he also wanted my head, but brother dearest underestimated me. When his assassins came in the night before the old man even began to rot. they failed and I slipped away. Brother believes that it will take me time to earn supporters but he is wrong.

I knew this might happen so I prepared. He thinks I was nothing but a harmless bookworm but he never bothered to pay attention to what I studied. He never payed attention to those who weren't commoners or nobles, but I did. So here we march to war. This war shall not end to either one of us is dead."

Typical really brothers born into power killing each other over it. I had hoped we would be different but no. So here we are marching in the dark striking far sooner then he will ever expect. So let us see who the victor shall me and the surviving brother.

One of us must die and i intend to make sure that isn't me. No matter the cost.

>>47689561
While he dreamed, he felt something surrounding him. He felt as though he was drifting through the air, a strange yet calming aura all around. He almost felt that he could see some distant light. It was then he noticed that his drift was shifting slightly, back and forth…

A sudden bump in the pace pulled him from his reverie as a whiff of cold air rushed through his nostrils. Thoroughly awakened, he quickly realized that he was up in the air; a good seven or maybe eight feet in the air. And he was being carried by someone. Someone huge.

For a brief moment his mind panicked, thinking he had been found by another Chaos-warrior. Was he being hauled away to be used as a ritual-sacrifice? Did his survival against one warrior just make him a better choice of victim?

His head had already spun around to his left to see whose shoulder he was propped against. For a moment, the skull-like mask adorning the helmet of his carrier tempted him to panic further…until he noticed something different about this giant.

He was carrying something else. It looked like a mace, except it was decorated with a familiar looking runic-script.

A gasp informed the warrior that his passenger was awake.

“So you return from the land of dreams” said a vox-filtered voice.

The boy replied to him. “W…who are you?”

The vox-cast voice bore no sign of irritation as he indulged him. “I am Brother Sebastian; I am an Astartes chaplain. And who might you be child?”

His mind almost froze. He was being rescued from the shadow of death by an Astartes-Warrior of the Emperor. The officers and commissars had spoken of them of course, but the boy himself had never actually seen one.

>>47689761
“L-Lothar. My name is Lothar.”

“Lothar…” The Chaplain raised his head slightly at this information. “I am familiar with this name. I believe it means something along the lines of “Famous” or “Loud” Army. Interesting name for a conscript.”

Lothar looked on in stunned, one could call it reverent, silence. Fatigue crept over him again, but he wanted to ask just one more thing before sleep took him again.

“Where are you taking me?”

The Chaplain answered him honestly.

“You have become a person of interest, young Lothar. So I am bringing you back to the Field-Headquarters where the rest of my party is gathered. I expect we shall speak again when you awaken. Now, be silent. Your exhausted form needs rest.”

With that said, Lothar could no longer fight-off his fatigue. Sleep claimed him once again.

But this time, he was not afraid. He did not worry that he would be kept forever prisoner in his dream.

He was, afterall, in good hands.
_______________________________

>>47689827
That's it from me for now folks. I have a long-ass workday ahead of me, so I'll be chillin'. I get two days off after that though, so I'll probably come back around. Hopefully this will still be here. I kind of feel like I should have done this in a more 40k focused thread, but, oh well. Hope you all enjoyed it.

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Anyone dare to make a story out of this?

>>47667993
>25: Behind Enemy Lines
>09: Ambush
>50: Retreat
>35: Dear John...

It wrote itself.

The party was going to help the city of elves, which if I recall was going to become a nuke or something and blow up if they didnt stop a demon lord who had moved in to the south.

The demon lord had made his home in the keep on the shore of a fishing village. The villagers there were completely and utterly mind-fucked to where they were kind of working off of base desires and living in shacks a quarter of a mile from the keep instead of the village they had up the road.

The party entered the keep which was unlocked and made their way through the seemingly neverending amount of rooms. All in all it was home to some will-o-wisps, some of the maids and workers turned into whites, a couple of ghosts, and some shadow people.

Eventually they made their way to the throne room of the keep where the demon sat on a throne covered in succubi just kind of enjoying himself.

I was planning on having them fight him, but to my surprise they just spoke to him. He said he was wreaking havok because he was bored of the hellscape his grandfather, asmodius himself, kept him in. His dad had sent him to fuck over the elves, but he just kept feeding his dad lies about how he couldnt nuke them just yet because reasons (so he could spend more time with his slut hoard in the material world.) Turns out being demon nobility is quite boring and if you do anything yourself you're seen as not respected by those below you. So he came here himself, fucked some bitches, and made trouble while he was at it.

He offers to trade. The party is composed of 3 people, one of which's backstory was that he had lost his soul to a demon before and was looking to get it back. The other two though were ripe for the picking. He asked them to give their souls and one of them refused. This made him kind of angry so the one who agreed he asked him to give his soul and the soul of his next 3 descendants. He did so.

Drell, the demon, became a re-occuring NPC, helping the party every now and then.

>>47694993
Later on in the campaign the party fought !Bladerunner Warforged who looked like humans and were pissed that they didnt have a reason to live anymore. They cut down all but the warforged leader who retreated out of the city to a small monestary.

One of the PC's killed the driver of the carriage they took to chase after the leader because he was incompetent and the PC had literally had enough of his shit. I shifted his alignment for that one, which he didnt resist.

But this woke some children of the corn demons for spilling blood on the harvest, which turns out is a big no-no. But we'll get to that in a second.

They go to the monestary, in the middle of the corn field, and find that the leader guy is holed up in there conducting some demonic rituals to fuck over everyone since he is wounded and cant fight. He summons a demon for which I used the concept art of that one armed angel thing with a sword in its chest that floats around here a lot in concept art threads.

After fighting that thing and BARELY winning the warforged is still in the room but while they were busy fighting has had plenty of time to make a summoning sign far more intricate than the one before. This he used his blood as a catalyst. So he has a few words about how they've lost and they have no hope of defeating what he's about to summon. The party stood in horror as he completed the ritual and black smoke came from the circle revealing Drell who immediately after seeing the party, crushed the head of the warforged with his foot and then asked the party which one of them summoned him excitedly. When the party rogue replied "that guy whose head you just crushed." Drell responded "...No shit?" In a surprised tone

Around this time children of the corn are getting through the doors and are in full party murder mode. The party asks Drell if he can help any and he absconds away with the party to hell to escape. And thats how the party ended up in hell.

>>47694318
The entire event had left Fumi...perplexed, to say the least.

She had left school on time, got off the bus as scheduled, and was on her way home when suddenly a trio of delinquents ran towards her. Of course, she was terrified: these were possibly rapists! She instinctively screamed out, only to have one of them clamp her mouth shut.
"Just shut up!" One of them whispered with an edge that made the young girl shiver. "Let us do what we want and it'll be over fast!" She couldn't fight these men, they were far too strong. If they wanted to, they could probably force her to a wall and then do unspeakable things to her chaste body with little resistance.
While she was trapped, the other two grabbed her uniform's sleeves. She had expected something like needles filled with incredible sexual stimulants or handcuffs or even just some brute force to break her arms: again, all things she had imagined possible for rapists who wanted some sick amusement with an innocent schoolgirl like her.

Which is why it baffled her when all they did was tie her sleeves closed.
As she was let go, she spent a solid second on the floor, waiting for the telltale noise of unzipped pants. Another second passed, and they were gone.
She waved her hands to see the sleeves bob around. This was...really just an inconvenience. She didn't even know what the point of it was; neither did any of the equally perplexed witnesses.

Regardless, Fumi found herself too ashamed to tell any of her friends or even her family about the dilemma or even what she thought would happen. Even worse was that she came across her boyfriend, Yuto, while still tied up and he had her hold his hand all the way to his house. His only opinion was that she looked cute. She became even more flushed.

Later that night, Yuto was outside his house. Fumi had gone home and now in his front door were three men. He split some bills between them as thanks for making Fumi look cute. They merely thanked their Bro for the dough.

See! The apocalypse in the sand!

Feel! The thrill of courage as young Dodo Buckle and his ‘pal’s battalion’, The 33rd royal Velthurst volunteers, fight against overwhelming odds, outnumbered 69-to-1!

Taste! The grit on your lips as the sandstorm envelops both sides at the height of battle!

Dodge! Bullets flying blind as Torcish fanatics charge the field, their scimitars the last fangs of a decrepit empire!

Thrill to the mysterious orient as intrigues swirl around the sultan’s palace, the last great medieval empire crumbling around them!

The year was 1915. The place, Erg-Al-Jairaffa. This is the story of how Dodo buckle, a quiet country halfling, was catapulted from the peaceful veltland to the center stage of history in a deadly wind of bullets and bravery, and how, facing derision from his peers and commanders, the uncertainty of the battlefield, and the brutal hell that was the great war, changed his commanders derision into deference, and his own doubt into decision. This is the story of how less than 100 halflings, gnomes, and dwarves, facing incredible odds and armed only with single action rifles, pistols, less than 100 grenades, and 5 rapid-fire guns, held off torcish fanatics for 3 entire days in a desperate rearguard action, giving T.E. Lawrence direly needed time to escape to and entrench at Hezas Yadouda.

“Weep no tears for the 33rd royal velthurst volunteers. Their courage, honor, and sacrifice will live in eternity.” - T.E. Lawrence, The battles in the desert: Erg-Al-Jairaffa & Hezas Yadouda

The Apocalypse in the sand: The Battle of Erg-Al-Jairaffa, coming soon to a theater near you. Rated R.

The final battle's theme
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=izQsgE0L450

>>47700279
now that I would watch

>>47700505
As you can probably guess, its 1 of those ‘they all died at the end of a completely impossible battle’ movies. Think black hawk down limitless numbers of enemy combatants approaching from every direction type thing.

This is all I have at present (for this battle), but I’m working on an alternate history of ww1 as it might have happened in a D&D world.

Just fyi in case you didn’t know, an ‘erg’ is an extremely big, very stable sand dune.

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>>47700584
>Think black hawk down
given the time period I'd think the film Zulu would be a better reference to start at. god I would love to see that movie with a bunch of halfling and gnomes and shit

pic semi related

>and now I'm thinking about Merry and Pippin at the siege of Rourke's Drift

also, i hate to nitpick but an erg is actually a large field of sanddunes

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These terrors descended from the beyond-clouds to hunt us.
They look nothing like anything we had witnessed before, nothing like a dinosaur, and nothing like those upstart mammals. They are as large as us, but they are far smarter and had hard bodies capable of ripping themselves apart and growing them back. Even more frightening, they can harm without even touching, gifted with the power of the beyond-clouds themselves, by setting them into the hot death. Death is meaningless to them, for even in death they can rise again, and they cannot be eaten, meaning their strength can never be ours.

Our reign, which once covered this entire land, was now on the last cusp. The kings, the dinosaurs, were now hunted as prey, simple and savage. Those that hunted soon felt the pain they inflicted, while those that grazed found themselves unconditionally unable to resist this one predator-above-all-predators. Even the clouds became filled with these beasts, equally as hard and indigestible, that spat out small beasts capable of digging into flesh without argument.

Few of our kind remain. They have proven stronger than any of us could have imagined. Even if we could kill them, truly kill them, breeding would take too long to repopulate. We have accepted our ends, and even if none of us will survive, we will make sure we die fighting, as we always have.

And I will make sure that they remember why I am called King of the Dinosaurs.

>>47701551
Thats fair. I didn't know that about ergs though, I thought it meant 1 big huge dune.

Basically the 33rd encamped on top of 1 of the huge dunes and shot until they eventually had no bullets/bombs at all left, then they engaged with melee weapons and suffered 100% casualties.

The torcish force used infantry wave attacks, bombs, and cannons. I'd say they were at or around 1913 tech level.

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Proper ratio of cute robot girl to cool world-building?

>>47667993
Rolling with post number.

>>47707315
Seems appropriate. Let me find a picture worth using.

>>47701563
The rep-toid terror leaps into the battle, its claws and fury overwhelming it unnatural foes, if even for a while. Its fellows are roused by this action, striking with greater vigour and aim as the odds where against them. All around, I could see all manners of beasts, some as lowly as the bird-walkers, to the mighty, bullish, red-horned tree-faces. The battle continues with neither side letting down, the primitive beasts' claws pitted against the monstrous limbs of gleaming, dull-eyed beings. As I sit, I see packs of rexars gang on the smaller "things", jaws tearing and ripping limb and life to be feasted upon until they are met in turn by swarms of small gnashing bugs. The battle seems lost for the lone primitive beasts of this land, who do not seem to care for their eventual demise. The line is slowly pushed back, the beasts railing against the tides, bleeding for every step. I cannot help but rail too, my anger and pity swirling, coalescing, burning deep in the pits of my very being. The iron-skinned beings now move with increased vigor and strength, their dull-eyes now gleaming in the warm Cimmerian sun. A shadow covers my eyes for a moment, before a warm lance of light shines toward the earth.

Their chariot floats over the sky, as if eyeing what it sees below it. What remains are the charred corpses of both the reptoids and its foul offspring, some whining as if in immense pain, their bodies no longer gleaming. It whines sickeningly, and moves. I made haste to move, as if the chariot itself saw me.

With time, I shall go back to Atlantis, and report to the head mage. We must understand this new enemy.

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Hey there, I’m putting out the call for writers of all skill levels to submit their work to our budding very short fiction magazine: The Bard Quarterly. As the name might express, we’re going to be publishing four times a year, beginning with issue #000 on September 1st, and continuing for as long as there’s interest. You can access our cheap-ass free website via our fb page:
fb.com/thebardquarterly/
or just follow the links in the image.

The dot-points:
>we want very short fiction (~750 words)
>we pay (a pittance)
>we give feedback even if we say no
>it'll be in free pdf format

I'll check the thread again in ~24 hours to answer any questions, but it's all on the website.

>>47700279
Feel! The inferno of infamy!

See! The desperate struggle of noble heros!

recoil in horror at the sadistic order as it is given!

“There is no mercy in mortality, it comes for all. The bomber will always get through.” - Maurice Pietieoux de la Boseier (boh-see-ay), october the 12th, 1916.

He had it all. Wine, cavier, fast cars, women. He was the talk of the racing circuit. The handsome, elegant bachelor who every woman desired. Little did he know that he would lose it all in a single day, little did the reckless playboy know that he would rise above his personal loss to dedicate himself to 1 single goal; ending war. This is the story of the life and death of a single man, Henri duboise Petainoir (petan-wah), and his valiant struggle to save himself and his city. It was october the rth, a day that will live in infamy. on that day, the death knell of civility struck, when the central powers sent their most powerful zeppelin bomber, the SS Hindenholt, to drop five 11,000 pound bombs on the unsuspecting city of Fomelieux. The city burned for 5&1/2 days. Clergy and their congregations were burned alive in their churches. Buildings that had stood for over 10,000 years melted down on top of their inhabitants. Children suffocated as their mothers cooked alive. of a city of over 15,000 people, 18 survived, spirited away by Henri Duboise Petainoir in an ambulance, helpless children and women outrunning the flames. Henri received the crois du gard, the highest award the frankish empire can give, to date, he is the only civilian to have ever received it.

The grand illusion of safety within their national borders was shattered forever at Fomelieux. Although the Hindenholt was shot down a short time later and destroyed by the franco-elvish airforce, to date, no official explanation of why Fomelieux was chosen has ever been offered, and no apology was ever issued to the survivors of Fomelieux and nearby towns.

Day of Infamy: Inferno at Fomeleiux.

>>47712406
God damnit. Thats supposed to be oct. SEVENTH. 7th.

so, is it alright if I write a story based on a vidyagaem I played?

>>47715447
sure, why not

>>47716799
Looks like Zeal.

>>47716890
what's Zeal?

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>>47682931
Hey, thanks for taking that little blurb and turning it into something cool.
>Hunt-Mistress Kory Williams
gawd-dang she seems like a fun character. Here's a picture of a woman that could be her.

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>>47719148

After I wrote it, I actually pulled up HeroMachine and made what I thought was a good approximation and sent it into the Drawthread meatgrinder for a better rendition.

No luck, sadly.

>>47622584
English is my second language so sorry in advance

"Ramirez, *bzzts*, ho*bzzt* les in your area" A growly voice says, as you shuffle trought your walkie-talkie, trying to catch the voice coming from your front end pocket

"CP, could you repeat yourself?" You ask to the blocky device in your hands

"Ramirez, Be ad-*Bzzt*" The voice once again cuts out

"He seems to be attacked by lighting!" A worried voice says from your back pocket "That must be why he sounds so....Shocked!" the fairy says as she waits a few seconds for you to laugh, doing jazz hands with a shit eating grin on her face

You don't say anything, only look at the horizon.

"Oh c'mon, that was a good one and you loved it!" the small girl says as she flies out of your pocket, darting directly towards your face and sitting on the bridge of your nose "C'mon Ramirez! you need to lighten up every once in a while!" She says while dangling her feet up and down.

"I would laugh if you would put effort in the jokes" You say sarcastically, giving a curt laugh to yourself "Y'know apart from just doing lame dad puns"

The minute girl just look at you for while before pulling her tongue on you and sitting on the top of your head "Y'know, I thought it would be fun and adventures the moment I went off on my own and followed a brave hero towards his own personal, greatest story ever told!" Posing heroically on the top of your head as she does that "But you just walk around all day! You haven't even used that fast-travel skill I gave you!" groaning as she plays with one of your strands of hair

"I would use it...if it wasn't restricted to fucking Afghanistan" You reply grabbing the girl by her wings and putting her in front of you

"First off! Language!" She says, shouting at you "And second!...off. The kingdom of Afghanistan is the place where your heroic adventure will begin! I can't have you go around just whatever place you want! You have a story to tell!"

>Cont

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>>47724094
it seems like every time I come back to bump the thread someone's bumped just a minute or two before

well done anon, and godspeed

>>47690394
There was a little boy lost in a Maiden World.

This was enough to set off warning flags to all the Eldar present. They were more afraid of what would happen if the mon-keigh were left to their own devices, especially in this precious world. However, those warnings seemed to not extend to two particularly sexually-repressed specimens: A Howling Banshee Exarch and a Farseer.

The boy was still crying when the Farseer first arrives. Her nose takes in that savage scent of unrefined human, and her eyes go wide: this was unmistakably a male. Eldar or not, that meant he could be a mate. Even to a trained mind, the fires of arousal were difficult to smother once lit. As she removes her helm, her pale brown tresses fall free of their wraithbone cage. She approaches the boy with a maternal smile on her face.
"Ara ara~" she comments. Despite her appearance of a young mother, her voice sounded more like an older sister. "What's a cute little boy like you doing here?"
The boy sniffles as he realizes he has company. "M-miss, I lost my mommy!" His eyes were red from crying the whole time, an effect with profound impact upon the Farseer's keen mental perception. She didn't just sense his loneliness, she could feel it, get wrapped up in his immature emotions like a blanket too big for her.
She smiles. "Don't worry now. Your big sis is here to help you!" The smile is enough to disarm the young mind, who stops crying. "My name is Belamere. What's yours?"
"My name is Sam." The boy was growing more comfortable with her by the second. This was not by some chance; Belamere was using her mind to slowly erode his mental resistance, influencing his thoughts to be more friendly towards her.
"Well now, Sam," her deft hands wrap themselves around his chin. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't want to know her little boy cried, now would she?" the defenseless boy nods. "Now, why don't you let your big sister Belamere take care of you, hm?"

>>47734230
Before the boy even agrees, the Farseer is already tracing her hands over his torso, feeling the undeveloped muscle and enticing supple skin beneath. He was young, weak; she didn't need much effort to push him down.
"Uh...B-big sis, what are you doing?" the sensation of a xeno woman's touch on his body feels weird on the boy, a biological warning mechanism about the heresy ensuing.
She nods. "Oh, big sis is just making sure you're okay!" She draws her hands away. "I wouldn't like it if you got hurt, now would I?" Sam agrees, though it's clear the sensation is still on his mind. Capitalizing upon the open gap, Belamere then tenderly grabs his hand, wrapping it around her spidery fingers before holding it in her own. Just holding hands like that made Sam burn up, the indecent thoughts about letting this xeno taking care of him broke the floodgates.

Now, whilst the boy was confused by his feelings for the Farseer, did the Exarch arrive. Unlike the kindly Farseer, the Exarch took a more controlled approach, like a neighbor.
"Ah, Belamere," the red-headed warrior masks her role as an exploiter, "I was looking for you."
"Oh, Taesa." Belamere stands up, ensuring her grip on Sam. "I'm fine. I just ran into this innocent little boy."
The boy's scent works its way into Taesa's senses the same way it does Belamere's. However, the Banshee's mind is not so bound to reading the strands of fate, less labyrinthine, making it slightly easier for her to realize that she was lusting for an underdeveloped organism. The taboo romance arouses her as well and she joins the two.
Sam asks,"Big sis, is she your friend?"
The Exarch kneels to the boy's level. "My name is Taesa. If you can trust Belamere over there, you can trust me as well."

The sensation of being with two girls, even aliens, is enough to drive Sam's hormones into overdrive. Knowing that they were worried about him made him feel more conscious than ever.

>>47731867
The bell above the door rang and a young couple entered the station.

SD stood behind the counter and watched as they made their way to back where the drinks were kept and swiped a nonexistant particle of dust off his frame. They were young, too young to be driving a car and neither one of them like they had gotten out of one regardless. School was out for the summer and children would come in for drinks but across the street there was a small fast food chain that sold snacks cheaper.

SD was paronoid, he knew that but with teenagers it paid to be so. He looked at the clock mounted over head. The manager wouldn't be back for another hour and resolved himself to solve any case of shoplifting that occurred.

There was a rustle in the back and the boy emerged with his girl behind him. A candy bar was clutched in his fist and he glowed green in SD's vision. The bottle of beer and chips he had stuffed down his pants all but jumped at him.

SD leveled his eyes on the boy and stared him down. .

"I'd just like to buy this clanker." The boy said. He put the candy down and behind him the girl giggled. "Alright."

The boy waited and when SD said nothing and made no moves to ring him up, he started tapping the food. "You there? You alive?"

The girl started to get nervous and she made the boy nervous. She started grabbing at his sweater and whispering in his ear and the boy unconsciously touch the beer. She looked at the door and when she looked back as SD, SD casually shot his hand out a good ten feet and grabbed something, racheting it back to him faster than most men could lower their arms.

The door was seven feet away and the boy slowly took out the beer and the chips and placed them on the counter. SD grabbed the beer and placed it somewhere he could clean it later. He rung up the chips and the candy bar and as the two kids all but ran to leave the store his eyes never left them.

This was his life since the war ended.

>>47736441
I am not going to finish this before this thread dies.

Shit.

>>47736711
thread still has like 90 posts left. It isn't going anywhere anytime soon (as long as we remember to keep it bumped)

>>47736711
You can do it. I believe in you!

>>47735647
The sweet smell of these Eldar, as well as the power of suggestion, had drawn him to them, but now was the time for him to decide whether or not to follow them.

Sam follows, for his mind has finally been snared by the mental depredations of Belamere.
"My, you're rather precious," the Exarch appraises the Farseer's catch. "Say, do you want to follow us somewhere? We can help you find your..."
"Mother." The Farseer finishes the sentence, "But first, you have to do something very special with us, okay?"
Sam replies with a dazed expression, "What is it?"
"We want you...to kiss which big sister you think is cutest!" At that moment, the collected Exarch smiles as well and they pull away from the child. "We both like cute little boys like you, and we promise to take really good care of you!"
"However, only one of us will give you extra-special good care of you." Belamere smiles. "And that one is going to be which ever one of us you kiss!"

For an instant, the Farseer lets slip her reins on Sam's mind. Though she knew her control was absolute, she wants to understand, even for a second, the boy's preferences. After all, this was a game to her, and games were only fun when there was a chance of failure.
What baffled them both was that instead of approaching one of them and clumsily placing a kiss on one of their lips on his tip-toes, Sam ran away. Before either Eldar could ask what was wrong, they noticed the sun going out. They turn around to find it, an Ork in a business suit.

"MAH NAME IS CHRIS ORKSEN. WOULD YA LIKES TA HAZ A SEAT?"
In that instant, both Eldar realized that this hunt for nubile young boys had gone oh so wrong.

I seriously wish I had that picture of business ork.

>>47736441
When the manager got back he sent SD out front to sweep the sidewalk.

SD didn't mind it. He didn't tire and he didn't overheat and occasionally another veteran of the war, even if they weren't a bot would spot him and wave. The act of sweeping, movements up and down and to the side leading to the gutter were comforting, bringing to mind good memories of downtime where he would be repourposed into maintenance.

His squadmates would stick around and talk to him as he made his rounds, mop in hand. Their voices weren't there as he cleaned but he could remember them and that was enough.

He brushed a particularly stubborn patch of dirt off the side and a voice behind him said "SD!"

SD turned and found the manager waving at him. A short, if not homely man, then plain man who barely reached up to SD's chest. He gesticulated , making motions for SD to walk in and SD complied, careful to knock any dirt off the broom before he did so.

Once inside he was sat down and the manager took a seat opposite.

"You remember my niece."He said."The one going to art school?"

SD vaguely remembered something about that. He nodded his head.

"They have this project they're doing. The art of war." He gestured grandly when he said it. "She called me and asked if I knew any war vets she could interview and I thought of you."

An interview? about the war? SD tried to remember the last time he had spoken to anyone about. He thought about it all the time, but actually speaking about it to anyone was long time ago.

"You don't have to do it of course," he said "if you don't want to."

The memories from the war resided in a fog in the back of SD's mind. They stayed there until prompted, eithier by a conversation or a sight. There were things that hurt there but nothing that would hurt too much too speak of. And anyways, he owed the manager.

"I'll do it."

"You will?"

"Yeah."

>>47711733
Is anybody doing this? Is it legit?

>>47751176
if they were going to lie they'd probably offer more than $13 a story.

besides, 750 words is hardly a lot. What have you got to lose?

>>47751199
I'm already writing something for it I was just wondering if anyone else was. Also still feels like some kind of scam.... like they'll say: "Your story was great but we just need a one-time contribution from you to get it into print!"

Maybe I've just been burned by 4chan one time too many....

>>47711733
I guess the million dollar question here is:
Does your publishing agreement include the screencaps on the 1d4chan Storythread page as being "previously published"? (Worth noting the authors themselves didn't post them there)

>>47751362
(Forgot to add)
That might kick up a lot of dust in these parts
>>47751360
Looks legit, you get all your rights back at the end of the year, so you ultimately keep your story.
It's not some permanent binding law-tome.

>>47701551
"Bother."
Stuck in a fort, in the arse end of nowhere. Surrounded by what has to be every nigger in Africa. The same ones, I suspect, that beat the pants off the Main Column not half a day ago. Undergoing almost continuous attack, and have been for at least an hour.

With a bear cub. A bear cub in uniform, with a rifle. Which it knew how to use.

Oh, and also it can talk.

"Bother" was exactly right.

"Pooh, how's the ammunition?"
"'Bout half empty." he complained as he shouldered the rifle. "Really wish-hold on."
The crack of his rifle was lost in the general din of gunshots and clashing metal, as was mine.
"-Really wish it was half full right now."
"Hitch'll be around with more round in just a few-whoah!" An ebony giant had rushed the barricade in uncharacteristic silence as I reached for another round, and only a quick duck had saved me from getting speared. I returned the favor with a bayonet, and also missed as he jumped back. Which gave me enough time to chamber the round and plant it in his chest.
"Think the rounds'll last a few more minutes?"
"Can't say for-" And then a mighty roar of voices drowned out everything else. Another charge. How many bloody Zulus are there?

>>47751360
I understand your concern. It will take a little time to build up some credibility, and if you don't feel comfortable submitting anything until after that time then I don't blame you.
>>47751362
>>47751373
Ed and I debated that a lot. Without going into a massive origin story, the backer (and chief editor) of this project does not go on 4chan. One night I showed Ed my favourite screencaps from the 1d4chan and some of them were met with a lot of praise, which lead to a conversation about how undervalued sci-fi/fantasy microfiction is, which lead to The Bard. The guy who wrote our legalese, and who makes up 1/4th of the slush team, tells us that we shouldn't accept anything previously published (including on the 1d4chan screencap site) for legal reasons, but I've been fighting to exclude internet archives and caches (such as 1d4chan) because, well, if you've written something you really liked, and it was screencapped without your consent, it's not really your fault.

So the situation as it stands is this: If something in the 1d4chan is yours and you want to submit it for consideration, you can. There is a disclaimer you need to copy+paste into your document which kind of releases us from someone possibly infringing someone elses IP, but even with that if I recognise a piece of work from these threads (I've been reading them for a long time) you'll probably be asked to provide some further evidence that the story is yours. What kind of evidence? I don't know. It'll be on a case-by-case basis.

If you're a regular writer for these threads don't think of the above as a condition restricting you from submitting old work, think of it as an opportunity to write something new! Or if you are really, really proud of something old, give it a shot anyway.

I hope that answers your question.

>>47752729
Sounds better than what I expected, glad you guys are cool about this. I was mostly paranoid it would lead to a massive purge of the 1d4chan pages from authors that wanted to submit it to you guys, which wouldn't be your fault, but it would certainly kick up that dust.
I'm going to try submitting a (heavily edited) version of one of my old stories from one of these threads, if that's okay with you. I put it on my wattpad sometime in 2015, but I made it a private draft so no one else can see it.
I'm not opposed to writing something new, of course, but I kind of like it even though it's different from my usual shtick, and I'm just really paranoid of my first submission getting flagged for plagiarism and being banned for life from what sounds like a pretty cool deal/read.
Does that sound alright in leagalese?

>>47752729
>One night I showed Ed my favourite screencaps from the 1d4chan and some of them were met with a lot of praise

Mind sharing those favorites? It'd give a pretty huge confidence boost to those authors if they knew they were in-part responsible for creating a magazine.
Plus, you know, feedback is always appreciated and ever scarce.

>>47752843
I have no desire to tear down what Chronicler has created (and I'm trying really hard not to derail this or other threads - sorry OP.) If anything, I'd like to work with Chronicler, turning The Bard into another avenue through which the folks who post here continue to polish their writing in a different environment with concentrated feedback and potential reward.
>Does that sound alright in leagalese?
That sounds even better than what I had argued for. When you submit it just include in the email body that we spoke in this thread, and I'll pass the story through the vetting process myself.

Thanks for submitting!
>>47753327
Great idea! I have dozens and dozens of favourites, about 70 images saved in my 'storythread' folder. I showed the best dozen or so to Ed, and I remember absolutely glowing praise being given to these three:
91: The End of the World
124: The Old Way (especially this one)
336: A Wizard's Quest

Feedback is indeed scarce. There's nothing worse than posting your work into a void, or worse, getting a 'No Thanks' from someone without any explanation as to what wasn't quite right with it.

>>47713609
Wrote this in one shot (1/2)

A sinewy eight legged creature, the size of a lady's hand, made a hither motion with it's manidbles: "Come, come! Wizard Spider Abbomen knows the way to Queen Spider." The spider balanced it's blue wizard hat as the perplexed (and possibly hallucinating) assistant poured their last late night coffee down the sink.

Armed with a clear glass cup and thin cardboard the assistant cautiously and suspiciously followed as the spider wiggled it's thorax and bobbled it's staff.

"Yes, it is worth being armed in these troubled times of the Spider Kingdom," Abdomenn agreed. When the spider wizard's magic shot out like a web and the world around them changed and shifted into a palace of silk and jewelry.

Resting in a golden thread web was a spider, much so similar to the wizard spider, instead wearing a plastic doll's crown. The Spider Wizard bopped up and down on it's eight legs in a bow and the assistant hesitantly bowed, still unsure about what was happening. The Spider Queen gave a friendly greetings with her fangs facing outwards and swiping, but to the human it was a striking pose.

cont.

>>47713609
>>47753763
cont (2/2)

"Abdomann, you have come with a HUMAN to defeat the evil lord Tyrantula! You are beyond my wisdom, many butterflies in your webs! And to you, human, let me bring you offerings of roaches and --" her salutations were cut short.

The sound of a tiny door swinging open and closing in the hall broke their attention as Tyrantula approached, "HE IS HERE FOR THE QUEEN!" Abdomann spider-screamed!

"Hahaha! Tis I, Tyrantula! Here to take over your kingdom and to crawl into this human's mouth while they are sleeping!"

There were tiny, tiny screams of crying from the thousands of little spiderling princes and princesses as Tyrantula's unimpressive and near inaudible evil laugh, "Soon my plans will be com-- Wait what are you doing HUMAN?!"

As Tyrantula was gloating over his victory he hadn't noticed the very translucent glass fit around him. Once he was captured the Human slid the cardboard under the a gap under the cup, successfully capturing Tarantula.

"Bless the human with our royal webs and a million ladybugs! You have saved our kingdom!" applauded the Queen, "for this you may marry my eldest spiderling so you may become ruler of the Spider Kingdom!"

The human humbly declined the hand of marriage and wanted only to return to home, which Wizard Abdomann said the magic words and did.

The human returned to Earth, The Spider Kingdom florished.

And what happened to Tyrantula, you ask? Tyrantula is now a nice resin-filled specimen.

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>>47753401
Czechfag here, just curious. How rigid are you folks with the definitions of "fantastic" and "speculative"? I'm wondering because I would not mind trying to contribute, but I guess my works are more in line with light magical realism or light surrealism than traditionally speculative or epic fiction. My works are generally somewhat out of place here, and I wonder if that Bard might be the right venue for that kind of fiction.

>>47753802
Submit something and we'll let you know. Even if it's too far outside of genre we'll still give you some feedback!

>>47753903
OK, I'll see what I can whip up. Thanks for the reply.

>>47753401
Thanks man, I'm not accusing you of trying to start anything, it's just something good to have cleared up. I appreciate that you're answering these questions and concerns rather than have a robot say: "BEEP BOOP WE SHALL NOT PUBLISH YOUR THINGS BECAUSE THAT IS THE CODE OF THE LAND"
>polish their writing in a different environment with concentrated feedback and potential reward.
Yeah that's exactly why I want to submit this one in particular, I usually write goofy "Oh it's an anachronistic knight fighting punks in a hopeless anarchic wasteland hijinks ensue" and this is really out of left field from me. I wrote it darker (but for a purpose, dammit) and I'd really like to know if it's edgy or not.
It's called The Angel of War.
Also I have no idea if I did the author bio correctly but I tried my best.

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An elf woman trying to impress or woo her male human lover by wearing a formal human business suit.

>>47754340
>This week, on "Stargate: SG-1"

I hear there's a guy collecting short stories for publication?

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>>47754794
See
>>47711733

>>47754794
More precisely, is he active right now?

And how does Julia stack up in his books?