Travel Buddies

Welcome to the first '24 Days of Christmas' event for the Creators’ Club. Every holiday, we plan to have a custom event planned. For Christmas, we are hosting a prompt event.

Prompts:

Day 1:

Holiday Words: snow, reindeer, fireplace Holiday Phrase: "All is calm, all is bright."

Day 2:

Holiday Words: mistletoe, stockings, cocoa Holiday Phrase: "Home for the holidays."

Day 3:

Holiday Words: garland, sleigh, twinkle Holiday Phrase: "A winter wonderland."

Day 4:

Holiday Words: chimney, bells, frosty Holiday Phrase: "Silent night, holy night."

Day 5:

Holiday Words: candy cane, ribbon, wreath Holiday Phrase: "Deck the halls with boughs of holly."

Day 6:

Holiday Words: eggnog, Santa, frost Holiday Phrase: "Naughty or nice?"

Day 7:

Holiday Words: nutcracker, sugarplum, scarf Holiday Phrase: "‘Tis the season to be jolly."

Day 8:

Holiday Words: sleigh bells, gift, evergreen Holiday Phrase: "Over the river and through the woods."

Day 9:

Holiday Words: carolers, snowflake, gingerbread Holiday Phrase: "Do you hear what I hear?"

Day 10:

Holiday Words: poinsettia, icicle, peppermint Holiday Phrase: "Walking in a winter wonderland."

Day 11:

Holiday Words: elf, chimney, mittens Holiday Phrase: "Underneath the mistletoe."

Day 12:

Holiday Words: ornament, pinecone, sleigh ride Holiday Phrase: "Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

Day 13:

Holiday Words: candy, cocoa, snowfall Holiday Phrase: "Rockin’ around the Christmas tree."

Day 14:

Holiday Words: holly, lights, cheer Holiday Phrase: "It’s the most wonderful time of the year."

Day 15:

Holiday Words: ribbon, present, sparkles Holiday Phrase: "Have yourself a merry little Christmas."

Day 16:

Holiday Words: star, tree, joy Holiday Phrase: "Peace on Earth, goodwill to all."

Day 17:

Holiday Words: tinsel, cookies, glitter Holiday Phrase: "Oh, what fun it is to ride."

Day 18:

Holiday Words: wrapping paper, icicle, marshmallows Holiday Phrase: "On a cold winter’s night."

Day 19:

Holiday Words: snowman, jingle, candy cane Holiday Phrase: "Making spirits bright."

Day 20:

Holiday Words: lantern, cider, log Holiday Phrase: "Bringing tidings of comfort and joy."

Day 21:

Holiday Words: snow globe, sled, chocolate Holiday Phrase: "Under the sparkling lights."

Day 22:

Holiday Words: angel, melody, starry Holiday Phrase: "A child is born."

Day 23:

Holiday Words: gingerbread, carol, magic Holiday Phrase: "Let your heart be light."

Day 24:

Holiday Words: holly, miracle, velvet Holiday Phrase: "As the world awaits Christmas morn."

Guidelines Under the Read More

The 24 Days of Christmas Writing Challenge will officially run from December 1st to December 24th, giving participants the chance to immerse themselves in a festive creative journey. To provide a head start, participants can begin brainstorming and drafting as early as November 18th, though official entries will be accepted only during the event dates.

All submissions must include the hashtag #cc24DaysofChristmas to ensure they are recognized as part of the event. During this time, there will be no regular Creators Club events, allowing members to fully focus on this unique challenge.

Submissions must be entirely original, as AI-generated content is strictly prohibited.

Each day, a new prompt will be shared, offering participants inspiration to create something festive and engaging. While writers are encouraged to follow the prompts in order, they may use them as flexible starting points for their work.

While there is no strict word limit, all entries should demonstrate thought and effort.

Collaborative entries are welcome, provided all collaborators adhere to the same guidelines.

If you have any questions, please feel free to send @creators-club a question.

@bardic-tales @megandaisy9 @watermeezer @littleshopofchaos

@kricketbee

@themaradwrites @pinkevilwriter

@serenofroses @asirensrage @aalinaaaaaa @goldenlilium-ocs @glbettwrites

@wyked-ao3 @badscientist @thebadphilosopher @andromedalestrange

@fantastictrashpolice @seastarblue @happypup-kitcat24 @chickensarentcheap @allaboutmagic

@ryns-ramblings @kathaliabloodyrose @riemmetric @andromedaexists @kckramer

@tales-from-nocturnaliss @pastelpinkhobbies @idonthaveapenname @the-bar-sinister @rosesonkittens

@bloodred2023 @kanobarlowe @aquixoticwrites @new-royston-cursebreakers

@rosemirmir @salmonandfox @fablesandfragments @paganmindidnothingwrong @elshells

@viscerawrites @ellowynthenotking @dawsonskyelar @greenapplespider

@edupunkn00b @the-duke-of-nuts @exclawshou @karkkidoeswriting @meerawrites

@theglitchywriterboi @mayarab @memento-morianon @mrsmungus

@pebblesfromtheshore

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Short and not so sweet, but fun to write none the less.

Vocal Reflection

“It would be so easy Simon, just say it, and you can finally be free of them. Don’t you want to see the sun again?” The creature now only barely obscured by the murky waters spoke to him with honey coated words even as its hollowed eyes glared up at him hungrily. “Your lovely wife and precious child… Oh how lonely they will be when you don’t return. They would steal your life, but I wouldn’t take much Simon, not even a fraction of what you stand to lose here.”

“None of the others could hear me, do you know what that means Simon?” He was the only one who could know what name to call. “Yes, but you don’t have much time left without my help Simon. It’s a simple choice, we can both survive.”

“No” 

If you're reading this right now, and you are in a writing mood, get off this app right now and go write something. If you feel like you can write good things for a while and continue on with your WIP, then go do it. You could get some really good chapters or parts or whatever done on you story, and if you post, then the people that read it can be happy when they read your work.

If you're a writer, and you are in a writing mood, go write now, because you don't know the next time you will be in a mood like this. It will probably be another month.

Intro Post

Hi,

I made this blog to try and force myself to be more productive with my original writing/drawing. My success is unfortunately an uncontrolled variable right now.... I am a serial procrastinator and I'm pretty introverted but I'm trying.

Most of my writing tends to be a bit on the darker side and geared towards fantasy, but I dabble in various genres as ideas come to me.

Feel free to tag me in writing games and just to share something that you are proud of. :)

Note: Please let me know If I am ever coming on too strong because I can be a bit dense at times. I'm open to and encourage constructive feedback.

I also have a secondary blog for Fan fiction mostly for updates and fan art.

Side Blog for Fan Fiction

Good luck today/night and happy writing!

The fluff hair is fun to draw. I think I like purple for his eyes. He keeps his hair up when he has work and lets it down whenever he gets a breather.

Short Story: Green

The end of the world happened slowly; as most things do. The plants began to disappear—one by one becoming extinct—too gradually for the general public to take seriously. When they did notice, humanity shrugged it off as the natural cycle of things.

And then it was the animals. That was harder to ignore.

It was the pollinators first, of course. Without their help, much of the flora could not proliferate as they once had. The lack of sunlight, of fertile soil, of bees or butterflies or hummingbirds were the beginnings of the end. Grassy meadows became barren deserts and lush forests became wasteland littered with twigs and branches—the corpses of once-mighty trees. Green became a lost color.

There weren’t many humans left when Zoe found hope and began her journey. The last human interaction she had was years ago to a man dying of smoke sickness; a common story for the few still alive. The ever-smoking towers brought industry, jobs, prosperity for a while…before they brought illness and death.

Over time, the smog and ash the towers spewed blocked out the sun, displaced the air, and changed the color of the world. Those who inhaled too much of the toxic fumes died slow deaths. Many grew up breathing it, assured by charismatic politicians that it was not harmful. They didn’t want to see past the lies; humans were an optimistic species after all.

Zoe walked past one of the many ever-smoking towers—still spewing death into the air—and took a moment to gaze at the darkened sky. She wondered what the sun might have looked like; what it still might look like hiding behind that veil of black and gray. There were stories, of course, but she liked to imagine that the sun was green.

With one hand, she adjusted the breather that sat over her nose and mouth, clutching a small egg-shaped container in the other before continuing her stroll, stopping at at a flickering metal box that matched her in height. An oxygen vending machine.

She had stopped by every O vendor she had come across in her years-long journey. Air was something she could not afford to let run low. Her expedition was a long one and she didn’t even have a notion of when it would end. It was better to refill her breather as often as possible before there would be nothing left; when soon—she assumed—there would be a large stretch where there would be no more O vendors to provide breathable air. She didn’t know when or where, but she knew it was inevitable. There were only so many O vendors that could have been put up before the smoke sickness claimed too many lives to justify the expense and many were already running low on supply.

She inserted a plastic card into the machine and fresh air was pumped into her mask. She breathed it in appreciatively, taking in the slight chemical smell of the original container and wondered what air from plants smelled like as she crossed empty streets and passed more ever-smoking towers.

Her destination was far but she was almost there; or so she hoped. Just a little farther, she kept telling herself, repeating it every so often. Her personal mantra.

She held the little container close to her, afraid that she might lose it; that it might slip and tumble down somewhere she could never hope to reach; that it might wither before she got to the one place in the world the sun was said to touch. The Sunpatch she had been seeking since she had found the egg-shaped thing—her hope—that she carried with her.

She had walked for so long with no direction save for the little information she had managed to gather after so much research on the Sunpatch. Much of it were rumors that lead to dead ends, others were educated guesses when information was obviously incomplete. She hoped to the hidden sun that the one she followed now wasn’t another dead end. It was her last lead and she was so old and so tired.

Her elderly legs hurt and her feet were numb from so much walking but she soldiered on as always. Zoe was determined to get the little egg-shaped thing to the Sunpatch no matter the cost to herself.

Her journey was a lonely one; solitary but never by choice. Often she wished that she could have company; another of her kind. The egg was a good listener but not much for conversation. Had the world not ended, her conversations with egg would be seen as madness but there was no one now to judge her.

For years, she trudged through desert and dead forests and broken cities and rock fields. She searched every used-to-be settlement for survivors—but always found no one—and stopped by every defunct food store to stock up on liquid snack cakes, bottled water, and portable air cans. On rare occasions, she even found running water in the long-abandoned cities. In those, she had the luxury of a quick bath and change of clothes. This wasn’t one of those cities.

She chose a building that looked to be in good shape and tried the door. Locked. A quick glance around found her some rubble; pulled up concrete from a sidewalk.

The aging woman lifted the heavy fragment and hurled it at the window, shattering the glass in an explosive cacophony of clinking, clanging, and crashing. No one will care about a broken window. No one is here to care.

She swiped the opening with a balled up rag, sweeping away bits of broken glass before carefully climbing in; agile despite her age.

The space was lined with mostly-empty shelves that made little paths. Zoe noted these as she passed the counter with an old register caked with dust sitting on top of it. It must have been a corner store once.

She searched and found a few bottles of liquid snack cakes and water. No canned air, unfortunately. Whomever owned the business—or perhaps survivors that had fled the city in search of better homes away from the towers—had taken most of the supplies before they had gone.

Opening and attaching one of the little bottles of liquid snack to her breather via a short, thick straw, she sucked on the meal, reading the text on the bottle. She had read them a million times but the mind needed something to keep from going mad and with the world so empty there weren’t many options. “Now with 50% less fat and 100% more calories!” it claimed. What a load of ash.

Zoe rested well that night before awaking to bottles and cans strewn about the former shop. Wakefulness came slowly and she didn’t notice the peculiarity of the out-of-place things at first. It was after a few blinks that it registered. “No! No no no! Where is it?!”

Her heart skipped a beat and she went into a frenzy looking for the little egg-shaped container; missing from the rotten pillow where she had left it before falling into an exhausted slumber. She dug through her rucksack, searched every nook, every cranny, and under every store shelf, but found nothing but rubbish.

The floor was sticky from spilled snack cakes, their bottles chewed by the incisors of a small creature. She had no guesses as to what it could have been but it had left a trail of liquid-snack footprints to follow and so she got to tracking the thief.

The tracks lead her to the store’s backroom; dark without electricity to light the way. She squinted, backing up a bit to where there was light enough to see as she rummaged through her pack and pulled out a small metal flashlight. She shook it a few times, and then flicked the switch on its side. The beam of light flickered before holding steady.

She ventured into the dark room, sweeping the light beam from side to side in an effort to continue tracking the creature that pilfered her hope. The backroom was in worse wear than the store’s front. A thick blanket of dust and cobwebs covered just about every surface that wasn’t disturbed by a certain little thief. Zoe found the footprints again etched into the dust and followed them, taking care not to step on any of the impressions.

They lead her to stairs going down to a basement darker than the backroom. She gave her flashlight another shake before venturing the stairs—step by cautious step—holding the railing as she moved down. The old wood creaked under her weight and she feared that she would fall through, break her neck, and die in a dusty dark basement under an abandoned store in a long-forgotten city. For much too long, she tested every stair before proceeding.

Her feet found purchase on solid concrete ground fifteen minutes later. She swept light over the new room slowly, almost missing the bundled fur in the corner. There it is!

The rat turned when the light touched its black fur and hissed. Behind it was the egg-shaped container that Zoe had been looking for; a bit scratched up but otherwise fine.

She crouched down on creaky knees and attempted to reason with the animal, “Come on now, I need that.”

The rodent responded with another hiss, back fur prickling up.

Slowly as to not make any sudden movement, she retrieved a bottle of liquid snack cake from her bag. “How about a trade then?” She twisted the lid open.

The rodent watched her intently, the over-sweet smell of liquid cake entering its nostrils and masking every other scent in its tantalizing aroma. It wiggled its nose in satisfaction as it began to salivate.

“You like that don’t you?” Zoe cooed, removing the lid completely. She poured a small amount of the contents onto the floor in front of her, “Come on. I know you want it.”

The rat hesitated before cautiously approaching.

She poured more liquified food onto the floor, pooling it up for the little scoundrel.

Temptation and instinct overwhelmed the rodent and it scurried to the food. It lapped up the thick batter; greedy from hunger.

The human added to its meal, pouring a bit more for it before righting herself and walking around the rat to the egg. She bent down and retrieved her hope up off of the floor, giving it a quick inspection under her flashlight when she was standing again. “Well, you didn’t damage it too much…” she said to the hungry rodent, “I’ve got to go now, little rascal. Enjoy your meal.”

She carefully made her way around the sticky mess and the rat to the foot of the stairs and frowned at it, annoyed at having to climb back up. Fear began to well up in her at the thought of falling and so she took a moment to breathe, steeling her nerves for the ascent. I made it down all right; I can make it up again…

The rat squeaked then, interrupting an otherwise still scene. She turned her light on it as it ran in a circle once, twice, and then scurried to the shadows of the back wall. “Where are you going?”

The rat squeaked again as Zoe realized a bit late that this rodent is the first sign of life she had found in her travels in years. She had been too focused on retrieving her stolen hope that she had nearly missed the fact that this creature survived the smoke-sickness that was choking the life of nearly every living thing…and it wasn’t wearing a breather. Here?! No…we’re too close to towers…but it has to breathe somehow…

She touched the latch of her breather, tempted to remove it to see if perhaps the air was breathable here, but she thought better of it. If I die here, it’s over for real. There will be no hope left…Some animals had adapted to breathe less air and this rat was probably one of them. She couldn’t be fooled by it.

Instead, she followed the rat deeper into the dark; hand outstretched, shaking the flashlight every once in a while as if it would keep the battery going.

It wasn’t long before the rat lead her to a hole in the wall just big enough for Zoe to crawl into. The old woman sighed and considered turning around. The rat squeaked impatiently at her before scampering into the tunnel.

Against better judgement, she latched the flashlight to the shoulder strap of her pack, slipped the egg into one of its more secured pockets, and got on her hands and knees.

She crawled through the tunnel, surprised that it didn’t narrow or end so abruptly. Someone must’ve dug this before they left the city. Stinging pain throbbed in her old knees as she continued shuffling forward, following a used-to-be common pest through a tunnel under a convenience store.

The passage was longer than Zoe had ever expected an improvised excavation could be. She had to stop and take breaks, maneuvering herself into a more comfortable laying position every so often to rest. It lead deep into the earth before steadily slanting upwards; so gradual that Zoe hadn’t noticed until light shone through ahead of her.

Eager to escape the cramped walls, she quickened her crawl toward the light. She didn’t know how long she had been shuffling in the subterranean tunnel but she guessed from her backaches and bruised knees that it must have been a while.

She pulled herself from the hole, moving dirt and small rocks as she surfaced. The light was blinding after some time in underground darkness and her chest was starting to feel tight. She had enough air for at least another day! Surely she hadn’t been traversing underground for that long! But she was gasping for air, struggling to fill her lungs. Her breather was running low.

Panic starting to intrude on her psyche, Zoe desperately scanned her surroundings. Massive dirt and rock walls bordered her from the outside world. Stalactites hung from the earthen ceiling above, drops of water falling from their tips in rhythmic succession. She found herself in a vast cavern of sunken earth; nowhere near an O vendor.

All of this for nothing…because of my foolishness…because I followed a rat of all things!

As if in response to her distress, a whistling gust of wind—gray particles dancing within it—embraced Zoe in its cooling hug before racing up toward an opening in the ceiling, blowing out of it like a volcano and parting the endless gray-black clouds of the ever-smoking towers. It was from that opening that a beam of yellow light pointed to a single circular patch of yellow-green before dissipating a moment later.

Zoe’s eyes widened at the sight; brief but certain. She had been searching for so long and here it was; hidden under a city, under ever-smoking towers that blocked from view the few moments of sun that managed to touch earth periodically when upward wind broke black clouds. She stifled tears as she approached the Sunpatch.

Reverently, she held the egg-shaped container in both hands, dropping to her knees before the little patch of life. With shaking hands and burning lungs, she set the egg aside and began to dig, clawing the earth with bony fingers until she was satisfied with the divot she had made.

Dizziness was setting in as she lifted the egg and popped it in twain above the little hole, dropping a singular ball—smaller than her fist—into the exposed earth. The tightness in her chest was nearly unbearable by the time she buried the seed.

Her life’s mission finally complete, she smiled with satisfaction; with all the love and hope she could possibly give to the world. As the wind returned, quickly flying toward the opening in the ceiling, she laid her tired body down and faced the beam of sun as it came in for another few precious moments. Her air had run out and the world was closing in around her; replaced by an overwhelming serenity. The tension left her body, smile softening but never vanishing as she stared at the mound she had created and the brilliant streak of dusty yellow light that caressed it.

The sun wasn’t green but it was beautiful.

Originally published on renalawhead.com on July 22, 2024

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A Bit Old For This

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Where did this come from? I don't know... I woke up at 6:10 am. and saw the prompt. This story just kinda came knocking on my brain without notice.

Story Warning: breif thoughts of death, violence, abduction, mentions of unstable mental state, and isolation.

Aaron woke up scowling to the sound of his alarm. 4:30 am. flashed brightly on the small LED screen. He’d overslept again.

Not bothering to snooze, Arron slowly sat up in bed and attempted to fight his growing desire to pitch himself over the balcony of his fifth story apartment. Imagining the complications in the event of his failure he discarded the unproductive thoughts turning his attention to the bathroom instead.

Pictures and Phil and Rachel in their uniforms hung on the mirror taunting him with their smiles, a constant reminder of his failure.

Blasted psyche test. Weren't people like him the very kind that the military were looking for?

Aaron's scowl deepened as he tried to push down a rising sense of nausea, he really needed to take down those pictures before he…

A loud boom sounded from the living room and his failures were replaced by a sudden and unshakable dread.

He'd been anxious and angry in equal measure for most of his life, so Aaron was familiar with voids in his gut, but this dread seemed to be emanating from the back of his head telling him to run.

His brain didn't even process the command that had been instinctively issued before his body was moving calmly towards the bathroom window.

Unhooking the latched he ducked out to the fire escape and began to descend the stairs as quietly as possible while his heartbeat began to accelerate with each successive boom.

The wind began to pick up as he heard a low growl from above. He didn’t dare stop, didn't dare to look up and see what might have invaded his home. What would have happened had he hit snooze one more time? It was then that his anxiety caught up with the dread and a pit formed in his already weakened stomach threatening him with a putrid bile that crept into the back of his throat.

Aaron stopped just long enough to force the bile back down into his stomach. Unfortunately It was a moment too long, for even as he took several deep breaths after finally forcing the caustic mixture down his aching throat, he felt icy fingers gently wrapping around the back of his neck.

The back of his mind began to scream as his body froze in place. He wanted to move, needed to continue fleeing but it was as though his body had been frozen by those fingers which dug into the back of his neck.

"Are you sure this one will do?"

Aaron closed his eyes before he could see the person he heard them stepping closer. It was like his brain knew something worse than the eternal sleep he dreamed of would be forced on him if he made eye contact with whatever it was.

"The Professor was very clear in his description, and I can feel radiance even if it’s faint. I am a bit surprised he made it this long without being discovered."

His brow furrowed as Aaron tried to make sense of what was happening. What did they mean radiance? The feeling in the back of his head flared once more with the urgent desire to escape these things, but he was still firmly rooted in place as a bony finger pressed into the side of his face as warm blood pooled under the sharp nail.

The sting of torn skin was enough to convince the last sane shred of his mind that this wasn't another of his insane dreams, he'd always wake up when he was injured and less had drawn him from his wanderings. The icy grip around his throat tightened, and his vision blotched to blackness.

....

"Simon, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open at the unfamiliar voice. He was in a plain white room filled with sleeping figures. From a cursory glance he was probably the oldest by about fifteen years. Among them only about a fourth seemed to be awake, and half of those were staring at the walls in a daze.

He didn’t have much time to linger on his confusion as a familiar boom filled the room and his eyes were drawn to a wolf-like creature that stood towering over one child that was still sleeping. The creature's maw dripped with red as it didn't hesitate to bring its jaws down on the sleeping boy's shoulder before blinking out of existence with another boom, taking the boy with it.

Cries rang out from nearby children as they began to scramble away from any of the sleeping kids as more booms filled the room in rapid succession, always a sleeping child, and always there for less than a moment more than necessary. The teen near him continued to shake her unconscious friend while calling out his name as another boom sounded and knocked her away from the defenseless teen.

Aaron wasn't sure if it was that strange new part of his brain , or the well of frustration the had been brewing in his gut which caused him to leap at the wolf, but in the end the result was the same. Without an ounce of hesitation he pounced on the focused beast like a coiled spring which had finally been released.

Its body was lighter than the wolves he'd dealt with in the past, and as he pinned its throat to the ground with his knee, he reached to his belt finding his knife had been left unchecked.

His fingers gingerly gripped around the handle pulling it free as the creature seemed to catch up with its current situation and attempted to claw at him while snarling.

He was struck by the pathetically weak nature of this thing as his blade was buried in the creature's throat, tearing it cleanly with more ease than should have been possible. As the blade broke free of the creature it burst into a cloud of thick purple smoke and rapidly funneled into his mouth and nose suffocating him for a brief moment.

When the swirl was gone he looked down at his hands with patchy vision and tried to focus on the strange fog that he could now feel slowly making its way through his lungs.

"Congratulations!"

A little old man appeared not far away smiling from ear to ear.

"The first dream wolf has been absorbed so all survivors are now eligible dream Arbiter candidates!"

Little bursts of confetti sprayed over the room as the children and Aaron looked at the man in confusion.

It was at this point that the sleeping victims all started to wake up and look around them in confusion before happily reuniting with their peers and crying tears of what he assumed were relief.

For his part, all Aaron could manage to do was put away his suddenly clean knife, hoping the old man would suddenly decide it wasn't something that an abducted adult should be allowed to have.

Greatest Honor

Thanks for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial

Short and sweet, no warnings.

They smile and clap, faces made of dull plaster with hollowed eyes. It was a crowd so dense that individuality was completely lost. All he could do was stand there frozen in place, a smile etched across scarred skin. This was suffocating. Why did they have to drag him out for this clown show?

*Merow?*

Gwen hopped onto his lap and butted her forehead between Van’s eyes, snapping his attention from the monitor. Her whiskers twitched impatiently, while sausers of sparkling darkness stared into his soul begging for attention.

“Pft… Don’t you know not to mess with millitary men Gwen? Your reputation could be ruined.”

Van returned her greeting with a small bump of his forehead, instantly elicited an echoing rumble from her stomach. As Van drew away, Gwen tilted her head to the side, inviting scritches that he was powerless to deny. Van’s fingers ran through her fluff, ruffling the emaculately groomed coat completely out of sorts. Fawn wouldn’t be happy about it, but Gwen enjoyed the attention.

Van placed a kiss on her forhead and let out the breath he had been holding.

“What would I do without you baby?”

Satisfied with his company, Gwen settled on Van’s lap as he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for the first time in days.

An Interesting Conversation

@flashfictionfridayofficial Thank you for the prompt! Also, thank you for your kind words about my drawings and writing in the past :) These prompts have been really good for getting me to write original work more regularly. Thank you so much!

Warnings: alcohol and some tension?

Summary: John runs into an unexpected figure at a lack luster party.

You were quite difficult to track down you know.”

John set down his wine, uninterested in the sparkling liquid after an initial testing. So far, this event had been a waste of his time, and speaking to another elite wasn’t going to improve his souring mood. 

“I keep to myself… Politics no longer hold any interest to me.”

Watching the many debutantes fluttering across the dimly lit ballroom with their sparkling capes and glistening helms had only contributed to the perpetual headache that had recently been plaguing him. He thought he might at least get to meet with someone interesting, but the older participants who might have been good for a story or two were all focused on the dance floor, assessing potential seeds to develop with even less subtlety than a child in a candy store. After two hours of this nonsense, he had little hope that any conversation here would be worth his time. 

“Yet you always hold such sway over the tides of history… I remember reading about your exploits on Teris 7, the carnage that you wrecked… It was inspiring.”

John turned his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the towering figure just to his left. A simple red cape held in place by two golden fasteners caught his attention before the coiling cables draping past her ceremonial helmet snaked into view. She was quite the figure to be appearing here.

“Such high praise, Admiral Krom, but you seem to have me confused with someone, don’t you? I may seem tarnished, but my time does not span further than your father’s.”

He noticed the flinch, turning his body towards the drink he’d laid aside. It seemed more palatable now that the conversation had shifted to such a useless topic. 

Before he could reach for it, his hand was intercepted, the music beginning to swell as bachelors flooded the dancefloor to have their promised turn with a rising star. 

“Humor me?”

With another half hour before the doors would reopen, he accepted her advance, swaying along to the tune until her moves began to shift, turning to a much older step that his body instinctively fell into. 

“The Dying Constellation… banned by the mad emperor after the death of his beloved wife, and nearly lost to time… not the type of thing one’s body forgets, is it?”

John’s shoulders hunched. She was a persistent pup. One who seemed to have done her research.

“What do you want?”

His words were flat, and he wasn’t sold on the conversation, but for her to have learned that dance at such a young age… she deserved a modicum of engagement at least. At the height of the echoing music, Krom dipped him back, pulling his waist towards her with a tense grip and closing the distance between them in an instant. 

“The empire is rotting John. I just want you to do what you do best and remind everyone just how small our bluster is in the face of real monsters.”

Her words rang out like music, causing the husk to stir with excitement in a way he hadn’t felt since encountering the first emperor. Her ambition was palpable, and borderline, desperate, hidden behind a thin facade of calm that was threatening to break with every word she spoke. 

“He was already proud of you, Elodie, and revenge can’t revive the dead.”

He pulled away from her gently, the strength gone from her hands as he picked up his wine, downing the liquid in an attempt to quiet the beating of their hearts. What use would there be in getting excited now? 

“No… But you can, or at least the husk could manage it, right?”

He froze, a spark of interest finally starting to unravel the ball of apathy packed tightly in his chest. Perhaps this party wouldn’t be a total waste of an evening after all.

@kuebiko-writing Thanks for the tag! I'm not sure if I'm doing this right, but here we go.

My favorite books to read are about messed up people trying to be better for either themselves or for someone important to them, while everyone expects the worst of them, and the world just decides that it has no intention of giving them a break.

My favorite books as a writer (that I attempt to write)....

Honestly, it's hard to boil what I like to write down to a favorite, but I do enjoy writing stories about people who have been dragged into bad situations and try to keep their lives and sanity intact with varying levels of success. Not everything works out for them, but sometimes I give them nice things.

I have a question for everyone who would like to answer:

What are your favorite books as a reader and what are your favorite books as a writer?