forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?
Started by @ninja_violinist
tune

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@ElderGod-Icefire

I wrote this poem at one point, and idk how I feel about it lmao. It was written for one of my characters

You are a patchwork of
Broken hymns and hallelujahs
A symphony of broken dreams and
Longing hearts, beating in time
With a lost and forgotten rhyme.

Love is not something chosen
It is a dreamt melody of emotion
Made by hearts whose dreams are
Unbroken.

You inhabit a world of darkest
Obsidian and blackest
Marble. A palace of
Shadows and night.
Velvet curtains cut off the light,
The only sound the wail of
A lonely violin. And then,
You. A viper among your
Belladona and nightshade family,
An assassin among
Poison, alone in your own
Home. A dark Shadow,
Haunting the corners like
A specter from ages past, a
Collection of broken glass
And sharpened swords,
A weapon of hate forged
In Love's ashes.

Scarlet bleeding ribbons down
Your wrists. Salt tracking paths
Across your cheeks. You are
A hallowed ground, desecrated.
Broken hallelujahs that tear
From a cracked throat and a
Desperate voice. A monster not
By choice but by
Necessity, for every tale
Needs a villain. And you, broken
And stained and shattered in the
Night, are a perfect villain,
Writing a poem of tragedy
In your own blood.

@croccin-champagne

"You are
A hallowed ground, desecrated.
Broken hallelujahs that tear
From a cracked throat and a
Desperate voice"

"Writing a poem of tragedy
In your own blood."

can i just like. oh my god??? yeS???? this is deadass like hauntingly beautiful and i love it. both of those chunks there are some of my favorites, but all of it is super good. i am a bit confused by the seemingly random capitalization in some places, though, admittedly. other than that, duuuude hell yeah

@ElderGod-Icefire

FUCK
Sorry for the language but
HOLY COW THAT IS STUNNING

Ahhhh thank you so much!!

"You are
A hallowed ground, desecrated.
Broken hallelujahs that tear
From a cracked throat and a
Desperate voice"
"Writing a poem of tragedy
In your own blood."
can i just like. oh my god??? yeS???? this is deadass like hauntingly beautiful and i love it. both of those chunks there are some of my favorites, but all of it is super good. i am a bit confused by the seemingly random capitalization in some places, though, admittedly. other than that, duuuude hell yeah

Thank you!!! The random capitalization is mainly because I wrote it using a program on my phone, that automatically capitalizes a lot of things, and I don't bother fixing it because im a lazy ass like that lmao. But i'm so glad you like it!

@ElderGod-Icefire

ah lmao that makes sense. plus, phones be like that

Yeah lmao

FUCK
Sorry for the language but
HOLY COW THAT IS STUNNING

Ahhhh thank you so much!!

DUDE YOU'RE SO WELCOME
That was seriously seriously amazing

Thanks again!!

@ElderGod-Icefire

I don't have a name for this but…here you go

Seven minutes. That was how long Raphael Domingo had to live, unless Avrin could solve this puzzle. Seven minutes. That was how long Raphael's kind could hold their breath, and then the love of Avrin's life would be forced to take a breath, sealed away in that vacuum chamber. He would open his mouth to inhale…and get nothing.

So Avrin worked, trying and trying to solve that puzzle, but knowing he hadn't a hope in the world. Because he wasn't good at these puzzles; he never had been. But if he couldn't solve this one, Raphael would die. And Avrin couldn't let that happen.

Six minutes.

He was bleeding time. Bleeding time, and he didn't know how to do this. He glanced up at the chamber where Raphael was sealed, and saw his love looking straight back at him, mouth shut firmly against the nothingness around him.

Avrin gave him a smile that was more hopeful than how he really felt, even as his stomach sunk into his shoes, his heart racing as his fingers flew, desperate to decipher the sliding puzzle before time ran out. He kept working, fingers trembling.

Five minutes.

He had five minutes. Five minutes to save Raphael, or the other male would die. The boy he had fallen in love with, in the course of a year. The boy whose dark hair shone in the sun, whose brilliant eyes seemed to glow. Whose mouth tasted of strawberries, whose skin smelled of vanilla.

Avril was crying silently, he realized, tears slowly sliding down his cheeks. But he didn't stop to brush them away, desperate to solve this. So, so desperate.

He didn't know if he could. But he wasn't going to admit defeat until the timer ran dry.

Four minutes.

Avril was crying harder now, memories flashing through his mind as he tried to solve this puzzle.

–A picnic in the fields in summer, Raphael picking a flower and tucking it behind Avril's ear. They were laughing, the food sitting on the tablecloth at their feet. Avril kissing Raphael's cheek, and Raphael blushing, suddenly shy and sweet, even though they had been together for three months by then–

Avril sniffled, wiping at his eyes so that he could see, trying to solve this puzzle.

Three minutes.

–They had first met when Avril's father had died. Well, been murdered. By Raphael's cousin, though they hadn't known it at the time. Raphael had volunteered to help solve the murder, and they had, at first, been acquaintances, then friends, then lovers–

Avril's fingers were flying now. He was desperate. Grasping at straws. He knew he wasn't going to be able to make it, not in time to save Raphael. Not in time. He could hardly see, tears fogging his vision and making it impossible to see. So he went by touch, desperate.

Two minutes.

He was sobbing, trembling and shaking with the knowledge that he couldn't do this.

–Raphael, smiling and happy and alive, kissing Avril's cheek and asking, "Are you sure?", And Avril nodding, looking up at the boy above him, one hand resting on the sheets beneath his body, one hand resting on Raphael's shoulder–

Avril glanced up at the sealed area that Raphael was in. He could see the blurred shape of the other boy, leaning against the glass.

One minute.

–Raphael, alive and happy and so very safe–

–Raphael smiling and reassuring him when Avril woke up from a nightmare–

Thirty seconds.

Avril couldn't see as the tears coursed down his cheeks. "Just hang on, Raph." He said in a choked voice. "Please. I-I can do this…" He couldn't.

Time's up.

He scrambled to the container, falling to his knees beside Raphael, weeping and clawing at the glass. "Please. Please don't leave me. Don't leave me, Raphael!" He begged desperately, the tears thick.

He saw Raphael give him a weak smile, his lover's body trembling with the effort not to breathe.

–Raphael, loving him despite everything–

He saw as Raphael's body forced him to take a breath, watched as he opened his mouth for air, and found none.

–Raphael, kissing him for the first time, Avril's stomach spinning and flipping inside him–

Watched as Raphael raked at the floor, face turning purple.

–Raphael, alive alive alive alive, breathing and alive–

Raphael hit the glass, those radiant eyes staring at nothing.

–Raphael holding him and telling him it would be alright–

Avril was screaming, fingers raking at the glass–

–The last kiss they ever shared, just six hours ago–

–but Raphael was gone.

Deleted user

Hmmm. Exactly how many rakes were located in this death facility? Because I counted at LEAST two.

Okay joking. That was nice tho.

@ElderGod-kirky group

So! I have the story of stories fleshed out, it is called The Eagle Calls, and I have the prologue done. Some critiques are wanted as I will be showing this to professionals by my choosing (stress levels are high guys). Enjoy!

A penny for your thoughts?

Such a strange bribe to offer. What's to tell of the value of one's thoughts? Perhaps the most simple and basic of thought could be argued to be worth a penny, but the human mind has so much more to offer.

No matter the mind, its limbs stretch the same. They twist and tangle between the spaces of nerves and abstract voices making up the conscience. They pluck out fantasy and fiction and bring it before the curious eye. They concoct mystery and a wealth of speculation to challenge logic and reason. Their spindly fingers grasp at the unknown and uninvented and make it known and inventive.

A penny for your thoughts? No, make it hundreds of thousands of dollars. Make it millions. I want to see what you see in your mind's eye, all the color and action and shapes; hear the impossible going through those hazed eyes of yours.

Thought is priceless. Thought is unique. Thought is universal. Thought is guaranteed.

Now, what if I proposed a different bribe? One I think you'll enjoy. No need for sacrifice on your part, no peering in your eyes.

A feather for your freedom?

Another for your heart?

A talon for your courage?

Another for your guide?

An eye for the divine?

Another for the spirit?

I propose to you, my good friend, a call to action, a great sign from above. We all need peace but are afraid to act. I don't speak for the world, but for the individual. Those wronged deserve the right. Even the simplest of peace can make the world even brighter to someone's eye.

A call, I introduce. What you do with it is up to you; I refuse anymore.

Will you take my gift or scorn its name? Its worth depends on you and your thoughts, though I will not ask for something worth so much more than what I offer.

Take it or be on your way, that's all I ask of you. Two feathers, two talons, two eyes. Simple yet impactful. Freedom, heart, courage, guidance, the divine, spirit. Not so simple yet equally important.

Quickly, now's your chance. Heed the call or pass it by. Take the leap or back away from the ledge. Feed the fire or let it consume you. Charge with a cry or slink back into the darkness.

Change your life or suffer in stagnation.

Your choice.

. . . Penny for your thoughts?

@ninja_violinist

!!!!! I admit I don't fully understand what's happening but it's expressed so beautifully that I'm here for it all the way!!
Favourite line: ….literally all of them haha but "Feed the fire or let it consume you" has such raw energy.
Can't think of much in the way of critique. I guess maybe this bit:

What's to tell of the value of one's thoughts? Perhaps the most simple and basic of thought could be argued to be worth a penny, but the human mind has so much more to offer.

has a few clunky/unnecessarily convoluted phrases? If I squint? ("could be argued to be", maybe, but I don't see a way to take it out without straight-up rewording the whole sentence so idk)
but yeah this is fabulous! all the best with showing it to professionals!!

@ElderGod-kirky group

Once I get the first part of the story written it might make more sense. The "gift" is what gets the ball rolling on each story. As for the narration of this entire thing, it's like a… I dunno, a divine being overlooking this entire thing? That might be why I wrote it the way I did. But I think that part might need a bit of editing.

With that out of the way: Thank you!! I can't wait to get this finished, it'd actually be my first completed book. I'm both stressed and really excited, lmao. The synopsis I made is:

We crave closure. Something happens, we want the end—we want the result. But for some, it's not so simple. For some, they must go beyond their personal limits, push past their emotions and strive for change to bring upon that closure. For some, it's not all pretty.

That may or may not help, lmao, but the title hints at what the "gift" is

@ninja_violinist

also, hello, I live and have crawled out of my hobbit hole to revive the weekly prompts (on a Saturday because that fits better with my schedule this semester)
I loved reading all of your guys' writing the past few weeks, even if I haven't commented! Y'all are so talented it makes me so happy to read your stuff!!

Music prompt this week:
"So Far Away" by Gabriel Brown and Michelle Creber (I also recommend properly watching the video bc this footage is stunning):

Image:
The galaxy NGC 5468, from the NASA gallery
(guys apparently there are hundreds of high-resolution images of space out there in the public domain?? I love the internet)

Text:
"To a Friend whose Work has come to Nothing" by Yeats

Now all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honour bred, with one
Who, were it proved he lies,
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbours' eyes?
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.

@ninja_violinist

Once I get the first part of the story written it might make more sense. The "gift" is what gets the ball rolling on each story. As for the narration of this entire thing, it's like a… I dunno, a divine being overlooking this entire thing? That might be why I wrote it the way I did. But I think that part might need a bit of editing.

With that out of the way: Thank you!! I can't wait to get this finished, it'd actually be my first completed book. I'm both stressed and really excited, lmao. The synopsis I made is:

We crave closure. Something happens, we want the end—we want the result. But for some, it's not so simple. For some, they must go beyond their personal limits, push past their emotions and strive for change to bring upon that closure. For some, it's not all pretty.

That may or may not help, lmao, but the title hints at what the "gift" is

This sounds sooo cool!!

@ElderGod-kirky group

Inspired by the picture prompt because I have a character that adores space

My First Love

Wolf: hey babe!

Nik: Hey. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?
Nik: It's past midnight.

Wolf: says the one that hasn't slept in a week
Wolf: cin can't sleep, so i'm here for moral support
Wolf: the twin thing to do y'know

Nik: Such a good brother.
Nik: I'm at the treehouse.

Wolf: hundred bucks says you're lookin at that mirrored lake
Wolf: the one next to the treehouse that you love staring at when it's nighttime
Wolf: you stare at that thing and those stars with more love in your eyes than you look at me
Wolf: i'm kinda jealous ngl

Nik: I may or may not be.

Wolf: so that's a yes
Wolf: i've got time

Nik: Thanks.
Nik is typing…
Nik: I get that I'm one of the solar dragons and am connected to the moon and all, but I've asked Tess and she's never gotten this way with the sun and the daylight. I'm just so… I dunno, enamored by the moon and the stars and space. I've been this way since I was a little kid back in Greece. My dad and I would go stargaze and I'd ask him all kinds of questions about the stars. He knew a bit more than the average Joe, but he didn't know a bunch, and I just wanted to know it all.
Nik is typing…
Nik: Did you know that there's AT LEAST one hundred billion galaxies? Or that, in the Milky Way, there's more than 100 billion planets with AT LEAST that many stars? And those are just estimates. What if there are more? Space is this huge and simultaneously abstract and very real thing that houses an infinite number of things. There's no way to know if it ends or has even more than what scientists are able to calculate. There's no way to know if there are other Earths out there in different galaxies with people just like us, or maybe even more advanced, or even the opposite.
Nik: The point is, space is like your imagination. It's real but not. It can be accessed but not fully understood. Everyone's thoughts on it are all different. There are some that delve into it more than others. You can love it, not care about it, or hate it.

Wolf: you've learned too much from cin. you're starting to sound like her lmao
Wolf: but you've got a point babe. now that i think about it, space is really weird but interesting
Wolf: tell me about the constellations and the stars. i know you love those things in particular

Nik: Oh, where to start.

Wolf: how bout the beginning?

Nik: -.-

Wolf: kidding, kidding!
Wolf: myths. i'm a nerd as well with a soft spot for ancient civilizations, so you know. tell me about the myths the greeks had about certain constellations

Nik: Alright. Just give me a bit.
Nik is typing…

Wolf: kk. i know this is where you start to gush, lmao

Nik: I'm gonna start with Draco. It's all centered around Heracles—which is a nearby constellation—and his twelve labors. Draco means 'the dragon' in Latin, as you probably know, and that's because it represents the dragon that guarded the golden apples in the gardens of the Hesperides. Ladon, was the dragon's name. He was put there by Hera to protect the golden apples from being picked by the Hesperides, who were the daughters of Atlas and asked by Hera to guard them. Some myths say Ladon had a hundred heads and the child of Typhon and Echidna, while others only say he was the child of Ceto and Phorcys. Heracles was asked to steal some of those apples from the tree as one of his labors. Long story short, he killed Ladon with poisoned arrows and took the apples. Surprise surprise. Hera was upset about Ladon's death, so she put an image of him in the sky as a constellation, curled around the North Pole and under the foot of Heracles. The Romans say Draco was one of the Giant Titans that fought the Olympian gods for a long time, killed in battle by the goddess Minerva and thrown into the sky, where he froze around the North Pole.
Nik: That took more time than I realized…
Nik: Also, shut up. I love the stars, okay?

Wolf: no
Wolf: that's hella cool babe. gimme another one. then you better get some sleep

Nik is typing…

Wolf: don't even argue. you haven't slept in forever

Nik: I'm going to argue. I'm not tired.

Wolf: i'm gonna come over and make you sleep whether you like it or not. you can't resist my cuddles

Nik: Sigh. Fine. Just give me five mintues to get your other info dump
Nik is typing…
Nik: I was going to do Aries, but I'm gonna do Andromeda instead. There was a mythical princess named Andromeda who was the daughter of King Cepheus and Queen Cassiopeia, the rulers of Ethiopia. The princess was incredibly beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that she offended the Nereids because they claimed she was more beautiful than they were, and they couldn't have that. Such is most Greek mythos, really. Anyway, the sea nymphs went to Poseidon with their complaints and he responded by sending the sea monster Cetus to handle it. Cetus flooded and destroyed Cepheus' lands as punishment. The king went to the oracle of Ammon and asked for advice on how he could stop the destruction of his lands. The Oracle told him that the only way to accomplish that was to sacrifice his daughter to Cetus. He did, chaining Andromeda to a rock and intending to be left for Cetus. However, Perseus interveined by saving her. The two ended up getting married and had six children, one of which being the father of the famous Spartan king, Tyndareus. Another was Perses, an ancestor of the Persians. The story says that it was Athena who placed Andromeda's image among the stars right next to her husband, Perseus, and her mother, Cassiopeia.

Wolf: daaammmmnnn. you greeks are so extra with your jealousy

Nik: Says the one who's jealous of the stars

Wolf: shhhh
Wolf: that's just cause IM your bf, not the fuckin sky. you should be looking at ME like that
Wolf: i'm on my way btw
Wolf: i crave cuddles

Nik: Lmao
Nik: I'll be here, waiting for my SECOND love.

Wolf: ass

Nik: You love me

Wolf: unfortunately
Wolf: just please make an exception for tonight? i don wanna have to compete with the sky

Nik: Alright alright. Just don't make me wait too long, kay? ;P

Wolf: waddya gonna do if i don't, hm?

Nik: Guess you're gonna find out
read 1:37

@saor_illust school

So, um, these are all unfinished, but I had a burst of creativity so uh here you go

Letters To Tyler
Warning: Deals with sensitive topics.

December 2nd, 2019
Hi. It's me. Mom forced me to see a therapist. It's dumb, I know. God, I wish you were here. Why did you have to go and do such a stupid thing? Ugh, writing this just defeats the purpose of even writing in this stupid notebook the therapist gave me. Writing in this notebook isn't even my choice. The therapist said, and I quote, "It might be good for you to write all your feelings down." Ugh, what a stupid thing to do. Honestly, I wouldn't even be writing in here at all, if it weren't for Mom. She forced me to sit down and write.

December 3rd, 2019
Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, the therapist told me that I have to write in here everyday. She told Mom that, and so here I am. Again. Oh- I forgot to say. I'm supposed to be writing to a dead person. You. That's not going to help at all! It's like she wants me to admit that I was secretly in love with you or some shiet. Or that maybe I should have told you that I loved you when I had the chance. Feck that. I didn't, and still don't have any romantic feelings for you. So, uh, hi. Hello. I'm here, writing this stupid shit down in a stupid notebook.

December 4th, 2019
I tried to skip a day. Mom wouldn't let me. Ugh, my stupid therapist. But… here comes something cheesy. Prepare yourself. Here goes. -Deep breath- ugh, this is actually kind of hard for me to say, but I'm trying, okay? No judgement. I… miss you. I've told myself that so many times already, but it's hard enough admitting it. I have to be tough, right? Remember when Mom yelled at me for accidentally burning some food? I tried to run away from home that day, and you and I first met all the way in another neighborhood, the next one over. "What are you doing?" I vividly remember that was the first thing you said to me. Although, I admit, it was a fair question to ask. I was barefoot and quite out of breath. I looked away, not answering.
"It's not your problem," I mumbled, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. In my rush to get away from home, I had forgotten about what others would think of me. Not that that was particularly important, I was just ashamed. I was barefoot. Who ran around their hometown barefoot? Besides that, my feet hurt. I was out of breath. I hadn't run this far in forever. Nor had I ever crossed this distance before.
But you simply just sighed, saying, "That's okay! If you change your mind, just come find me in that black house over there!" You turned around, pointing to a house in the distance, though it was clear which one he was talking about. In a field of what appeared to be wheat, a black house stood out. All the other houses were either white, red, blue, or yellow.
I looked up in surprise, a genuine smile on your face. "…are you serious?" I asked. I wasn't planning to ever come visit you, but I wanted to know if he was genuinely offering an ear to listen. You just turned back to me, a smile on your face and nodded happily. Me, though. I was pitiful. Cringe worthy, even. I just stood there, astounded, and watched as you bounded away.
"I have to go now, but I'll for sure see you tomorrow, yeah?" you called back to me before you hopped out of hearing distance. You looked so happy, so carefree back then. What happened? What happened in those eight years?

December 5th, 2019
Hey. Me again. It's been what, two months now? God, I miss you so much. Too much, Dad says. But then again, what does he know? On a side note, …damnit! You know your friend, the dark-haired one? Well guess what? He came to pay me a visit, and that wasn't a good thing. You see… last week we kind of got into a fight… Feck I shouldn't write this down. My therapist is going to read through this when I'm done with it. When I finished writing everyday for a year. Yeah, Coulter says I need to write in this for a year. "So I can keep track of how you're doing," she says. Ugh, so annoying. Anyways, I lost my train of thought, so I guess it's bye for now. I'm going to try to skip tomorrow, but we'll see how that turns out.

December 6th, 2019
.
.
.
.
…
I don't know what to say. So you get random dots today.
.
.
.
.
…
Mom forced me to write some more. So here I am, yet again.

December 7th, 2019
Feck, I think I'm falling for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Unnamed Story
Warning: Deals with a sensitive topic: Death
"loren"
"Dont"
"no"
I frantically type out the messages on my iPhone, wishing for once in my life that I had gotten an Android instead. Oh boy, those swipe keyboards sounded like heaven. I waited anxiously for a response, wrapping my hair around my finger as tight as I could, praying to God that she was okay. This would be different if I didn't know her. Well… not that different. i'd still be worried. I'd panic, and stress. I'd still worry if she had sent off any signs, any cries for help that I just hadn't seen. But now, I don't know where she lives and I can't call her mom. Her mom is ab- oh… yeah… that happened. Um… -clears throat- excuse me, this is a tough subject for me to talk about. Okay, listen. Her mom is dead.
I am interrupted by a ding, and I look down, only to be disappointed by the notification. It's a text from a friend, though, so I tap on it, opening the thread.
"How are you doing?"
My fingers pause over the screen of my iPhone, not knowing what to say. I'm not doing okay, that's for sure. Loren might be dead, for all I know. But I trust this friend, so…
"Terrible,"
I type back, heaving a big sigh. And that is the truth. I can't stand it, not knowing whether she's okay or not. And in that moment, I make a decision. I open my calling app, and type in a friend's number. Namely, Lindsey. She'll know what to do. I ignore all incoming notifications while I do so. It takes me a while to input the number, as my fingers are shaking, and keep pressing the wrong numbers. Text after text pours in from my other friend, and still I ignore them, swiping them away off of my screen as they appear.
"Oh no, that's not good!"
"Why's that?"
"Charlotte?"
"You there?"
"Charlotte, I'm starting to get worried. What happened?"
"Please, you can talk to me."
"…"
"CHARLOTTE. ANSWER ME RIGHT NOW. I'M GOING TO CALL YOU, AND YOU ARE GOING TO PICK UP."
"I called. You hung up on me. Why? What are you doing?"
"Charlotte, I'm genuinely worried. Please answer me."
I know I'm not doing the right thing, but I can't help it. I just can't deal with her right now. I need to call Lindsey. "Hello?" Lindsey picks up almost instantly. "Yeah? What's up?" she asks, her voice innocent.
"I… I- I'm sorry I'm really worried… do you know Loren Peterson? That girl in orchestra, the one who plays violin?" I ask hurriedly, my voice shaking as well.
Lindsey's sounds confused at first. "Loren? Uh… let me think… is she that short one? Wait no… oh yeah she is! What about her?"
My breaths are faster, and I can almost feel the hyperventilation coming on. "Woah, slow down there Charlotte! Don't hyperventilate, okay?" Thank goodness Lindsey hears me, and calms me down a little bit.
"I- I- Loren might be dead." I finally say, my voice cracking.
The shock in Lindsey's voice suprises me, somehow. I shouldn't be surprised. "What?? Did I hear you correctly? Hold on, stay there. I'm coming over."

@ElderGod-Icefire

Vaguely inspired by this part of the Poem prompt:

And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.

Nik had to face it. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where he was, and the sounds of music was following him through the stone labyrinth. He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his scalp. Gods, the heat, the heat, too. The goddamn heat. There were lava veins running just beneath the stone, and that heated up the whole area to what felt like a billion degrees.

The hoarse shouts of the tribesmen, from whence the drumming came, echoed from behind him. Oh, god, they were catching up. They were catching up! He was running, muscles cramping and body shaking with fear and exhaustion and heat. He whimpered as his leg caught, turned, twisted.

That mad drumbeat continued, echoing in his ears and coursing into his body. He fell as his foot caught on a jag in the stone, body slamming onto the rocks and his breath leaving him in a woosh. His dark hair was stuck to his scalp with sweat, and his eyes were glazed with exhaustion. His fingers twitched, convulsed, and his body was lifted. His head rolled back on his neck, a hoarse groan leaving his throat.

"Inkara. Taiko." He breathed, begging, hardly able to speak from how dry his throat was. A familiar face drifted into his vision as he was set down and tied down again. "Mami."

A hand brushed back his hair, and the shape shook her head. "Ka. Yi jow ehra'ko." she replied in a cold voice.

"I couldn't stay any longer, Mami." he whispered brokenly. "You know what they're going to do to me. I'm not like them. Please, Mami. Help me." he tugged at the strings of rope that bound him, staring at her through bleary eyes, his voice cracked and dry and hoarse.

The woman sighed. "This is not my fault. Your father broke the laws, and you know this must be the result. If you were to survive, you should have left with him. But you didn't, and that is your own fault." she stood, growing dim in his vision. "Kala te unka." she murmured. Then she was gone.

Nik closed his eyes for a moment. The trials of fire and stone. Any Katava boy must face them when he comes of age. The problem was, Nik was only half Katava. His father had fallen in love with a visiting woman from beyond the stones, beyond the lava fields, and that woman that Nik had never met was his real, flesh and blood mother, not the woman who had just been there. He took a deep breath, and regretted it as soon as the hot, dry air met his throat. He shuddered. He had tried to run, had tried to leave the stones, but he had been caught. And now he would face the trials, and he would die. He didn't have the same resistance to heat and dehydration that the other Katava boys did. He couldn't survive without water for as long as they could, not in this pounding, dry heat that there was never, ever, any relief from.

"Water." he called again from a croaking, dry voice. "Please, I beg you." but no one came.

Not for hours, and then when they did come, they untied him, gave him water. Then a waterskin was put in his trembling hands, and he drank it gratefully, noisily, careful not to spill a single drop on the ground. He was led out to where the other boys waited. His shirt stuck to his body with sweat, and he already knew with certainty that he would lose. Unless he could harness the magic his father had always said laid inside of him, then Nik would die in these trials.

He didn't unlock his magic, and he died in the maze of corridors. Died of dehydration and heat. Died, because he was only half Katava.

@amber_is_in_a_loop

I had to write an application letter, and was wondering if you guys could read it and tell me how shit it is please and thank you?

I've always loved writing and have been writing for a while, for myself. Learning to write with and for other people would be an amazing opportunity. My writing has always been a vital part of my life and one of two huge emotional outlets for me, seeing as I struggle with my mental health and writing has always been there for me more than anything.

I've taught myself the basics of poetry reading a lot and exploring different websites and forums. It doesn't come very easily to me, but it's such an emotional, inspiring and intricate style of writing that I respect and adore, and would do anything to learn how to write well.

I'm determined to improve my writing, and would put every effort and ounce of energy into working hard for this project and pushing myself to my creative limits. I promise I'd take away as much as possible from what you'd teach us. I write to bring out my and others' emotions, which is why I think my writing, though imperfect, has a lot of soul and potential.

Doing this project, doing what I love and live to do while being surrounded by people who love this as much as I do, would be such a precious experience. It'd be so special, and useful, and therapeutic for me to focus on what I love to do and devote all of my time and energy to it in a more professional context.

@croccin-champagne

i actually can't think of anything to critique with this? the first thing that came to mind was maybe varying your sentence length a little, throwing in some medium length sentences, but you also did super well with the flow by alternating between short and long? anyway, i like it! it sticks to the main point, and doesn't start getting off track, which is a super good thing when it comes to writing these. it's good!