forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?

Started July 06, 2019 by @ninja_violinist

tune

Ahhhh thank you! i don't know what those words mean but thanks

oh sorry I don't mean to be all 'literary elitist' about this. They're just unnecessarily fancy lit crit words I'd usually use in essays - enjambment is when a phrase runs beyond the end of a line, caesura is when you have a pause (usually due to punctuation) in the middle of a line.
So in these lines

Why do little girls all want to be
princesses? Why do little girls talk of

there's enjambment when the sentence runs on after the linebreak of "want to be" and there's caesura when you pause for the question mark after "princess".

Also, crocs, please absolutely post your videos here if you can!! I'd love to see more of em as you go!

@Dances_with_Shadows-is-tired you know, nine times out of ten I get irritated when reading about relationship drama conversations, either because it seems overdramatic or out of place or just a bit too much. And I guess this was the other one out of ten, because I really enjoyed reading this! It gives a super good look into existing character dynamics, it flows really well, and the dialogue is just. It's fabulous. It strikes that perfect balance between "super serious conversation" and "I can still crack jokes about it", so the discussions themselves feel realistic without being overbearing.
One thing I'd look into again if you feel like it is the narration in the first bit. It's generally really well done, excellent characterisation, but sometimes it feels like you switch between a limited third person and an omniscient third person? For example,

He didn't even notice the woman walking into the kitchen with him, nor did he see her jump up onto the counter behind him and follow his frantic back and forth path with her eyes.

feels more distant, since it's specifically telling us info that the POV character doesn't yet have access to. But later, during the conversation, you go out of your way to show that it's specifically from his perspective - eg "He watched as she propped her chin on her knee" which implies a more limited narration.
idk where I'm going with this to be honest, it's not a huge deal by any means, but there is an opportunity for a bit more consistency here if you want.
But yeah. thank you so much for sharing!

Fjdjjf I'm glad I could provide that one out of ten. I've been experimenting with changing relationships between my—very large—cast of characters, so this was a little drabble of two possible ships starting to come to light. And as Crocs knows, I was writing this from one to two in the morning, so I'm surprised there aren't more mistakes you picked up on like the Carden and Archer one being kinda stiff. I was legit falling asleep while trying to finish that

Ahhhh thank you! i don't know what those words mean but thanks

oh sorry I don't mean to be all 'literary elitist' about this. They're just unnecessarily fancy lit crit words I'd usually use in essays - enjambment is when a phrase runs beyond the end of a line, caesura is when you have a pause (usually due to punctuation) in the middle of a line.
So in these lines

Why do little girls all want to be
princesses? Why do little girls talk of

there's enjambment when the sentence runs on after the linebreak of "want to be" and there's caesura when you pause for the question mark after "princess".

Also, crocs, please absolutely post your videos here if you can!! I'd love to see more of em as you go!

Ooohh okay lol. Thanks for the explanation!!

alright! so i might have a writing-writing thing, possibly for the sad scene prompt, later, but for now here's a poem! when i was a kid i used to constantly wish someone would write about me, because baby crocs was a hopeless romantic. as i got older, i decided no one would, because one of my rules is never date a poet. surprise surprise, screw the cynicism, i realized that i didn't need anyone to write a poem about me, because i was perfectly capable of doing it myself

---

Nobody has ever written me a love poem
And no one ever will.
I’m comfortable, in knowing this.
But I think it’s about time I write myself one,
Done writing about the way I hate the shape of my body
And how the scars on my ankles and hands
Make me wince every time I see them.
I’m turning the tables this time,
Shaping the words from my mouth into love notes,
For myself.

I’ll start with the way I fall in love with my reflection,
On the good days.
My eyes are the prettiest shade of green, starbursts of earth,
One greener, one browner, than the other.
I’m in love with my freckles.
Little stars across my cheeks,
Drawing forth an urge to take a pen and connect them,
Like constellations.
My face is round, and it’s soft
My cheeks are so much fun to squish around when I’m goofing off
I am a painting.
An Instagram selfie without a filter,
I’ll admit, I don’t know how to work them.

I’m in love with one am me
Sitting on the kitchen floor, playing eighties love songs
From my phone in the dark.
There’s a tub of raspberry sherbet in my hand,
And the only clean spoon I could find
In the other.
I love the way I love the stars,
And my fascination with learning everything I can.
My refusal to get out of bed before nine on weekends,
Is something so human it shocks me,
Something so perfect I can’t help but be in awe.
I have given myself routine
Where I used to not have one.
And that is something incredible.

I don’t need someone else
To write me a love poem.
Because I’m perfectly capable of writing
Myself one.
When the world falls apart,
I will remember the way sunlight makes my eyes glitter,
That I look incredible in the color yellow.
I will not wonder if someone sees me the way
A poet sees the trees, and the faces of rocks.
Because I can see myself that way,
Narcissus’ hand in mine,
Showing me how lovely my perfections
And imperfections are.

Crocs that was lovely!! I really loved reading through that

Based on the Image prompt

---

Ara stared at the frozen waves beneath her hands, her sea green eyes wide, her breath coming in harsh, rasping gasps. No. No, this couldn't be happening. He had promised. He had promised to return her to the waves, return her to water and the ocean and home. She was a Siren. She couldn't survive out of water.

But this water was frozen over. This water could not help her, could not save her from the death that even now crept on catlike feet to sit beside her, to run it's claws over her skin like a whip, the very air biting down on her flesh. She screamed, harsh and discordant, blood dripping from her open mouth.

"You promised!" she screamed, staring at where he stood on the shoreline. "You promised to bring me home!" her voice scratched and rasped. Nothing like the beautiful thing a Siren usually possessed. Nothing like her normal voice.

The man laughed. "Ara. I lied. That's what men like me do, remember? Besides, I promised to bring you to the waves. These," he gestured, "Are waves. Just not the type of waves you were, perhaps, expecting."

Ara closed her eyes as the wind blew past her and drove daggers into her flesh. "I am dying, Lex." she said, her voice carrying over the ice, through the freezing air. "You know this. You know that I will die here."

"Yes." he confirmed, voice as cold as the icy mountains around them. "I know. But your kind has killed how many thousands of humans? I daresay that this death is an easier one than you deserve. Not in the water, but near it. Dying from too much air. I've killed Sirens before, as you well know. Would you prefer to die like them? Screaming? Bleeding?"

She spat blood onto the ice, watched it for a moment before lifting her eyes to Lex's. To the Siren hunter she had fallen in love with. The one who had led her along, pretended to love her too. He had earned her trust. She had told him things about the Sirens, secrets that she hadn't known he would use against her. Against them all. Sirens, she told him, could stay out of the water for nearly a month, but then they needed to return to the ocean, or at least to a larger body of water. Her month was up. "This is worse." she rasped. "This is so much worse. I wish that you had just killed me, Lex. This is…this is cruelty."

His eyes were hard, unyielding. "I know."

"I thought you loved me." her voice cracked, and she coughed, spitting out more blood. She was lying on the ice now, trembling. Each breath hurt, raked at her insides and made more blood foam out of her lips.

"I know."

Her breathing was labored, strained, wheezing, blood bursting from her lips with each exhale. She was too weak to stay up, and collapsed, laying on the ice. Her body began to convulse, blood streaming from her mouth, nose, eyes, ears. Bleeding, bleeding, bleeding. She screamed, her once beautiful voice the rasping, angry croak of a dying thing. And she died, becoming a lifeless, bloody heap on the ice.

Lex closed his eyes, unable to watch the woman he had loved die. Because he had loved her. He had. But he hadn't had a choice. Sirens needed to die, even if they were like Ara.

oooo. i like it, ice! as in, it broke my heart and im cursing you a thousand times over, but i like it! i think, honestly, it could stand to be a bit longer, allowing the mixing in of the backstory you gave while including the current happenings in dialogue, but keeping it short for the answering to the prompt was probably a good idea. i would love to learn more about these characters! seeing ara and lex's developing relationship, the leading up to killing ara, maybe even just the scene from only his perspective, would be incredible. there's so much potential for an actual story here and now you've got me hooked with one scene, which is quite the feat!!!

Thanks!! Mwahaha. Yeah! I actually just came up with those two and everything on the fly, so, like…Idk the full story. But yeah, it would be interesting to write some day!! Thanks!!

this is absolutely not what i meant to write but i ended up finishing an old started drabble because i was gushing to my boyfriend about these two and decided why not

so I took a stab at the word prompt and am not sure what happened but this is the result?? I don't think it even has a plot? it's just semi-coherent morose ramblings? please tear it apart y'all

---

The cat’s gone missing again.

Sometimes, I wonder why I even keep the miserable beast around. I feed her, give her a place to sleep, bow to her every whim, and how does she repay me? With frequent minor disasters around the house, followed by grand escapes that force me to wander through town for hours in search of her. At least today’s disaster seems less premeditated than usual. If the counter hadn’t been stacked with dirty dishes, I doubt she would have brushed so close to the bundles of dried herbs hanging on the wall. She usually makes a wide berth around them (they make her sneeze), so I can reasonably assume she didn’t intend to rip them down.

Not that knowing the degree of her premeditation helps me, I think ruefully as I survey the mess of ripped stalks, twigs, and leaf dust that's spread evenly across dishes and counter. I could clean it up now: rebundle the remaining herbs, sweep the floor, take care of those dishes, maybe experiment which combination of leaf dust smells the best. Instead, I slump down on the floor and lean my head against the fridge behind me.

Sometimes, I wonder why I even bother.

Mum would have laughed at the mess. She would have captured the whole scene in one of her cheap Polaroids, lodged it artfully in a glass jar along with a sample of the best-smelling herb combination, and labelled it in her curly script. “Catnip Catastrophe”, maybe, or “The Great Escape” (I hardly have her knack for names). The glass jar would take its place in the legion that already stands at attention on our living room shelf - memories, hundreds of them, conveniently bottled and organised in a system only she understood.

I glance over at the three jars on the kitchen table, one of them on its side and poking out over the edge from where Themis apparently knocked it over. Light filters through the Polaroid coiled inside it and I wish she’d knocked it off the table entirely. Three weeks ago, I woke from my mid-afternoon nap to a sunset so stunning that I, still half-asleep, unthinkingly grabbed mum’s camera and snapped a picture. It took sealing the jar to realise that this particular one could never fit in with the rest of its comrades. It would be a mediocre recruit among experienced veterans, dressed in a different uniform, always obviously and glaringly out of place.

I also didn’t have the heart to throw it away, so it sits on my kitchen table, gathering dust, label already curling from where I absently pick at it in the evenings.

The fridge hums against the back of my head and the curve of my spine. My legs ache with the cold of the tiles beneath me. Different scents hang heavy in the air, all with the dusty undertones of what I suspect is mildew. That’s why I had the window open today. Not for Themis to take the opportunity for escape she was apparently so desperately searching for.

Sometimes, I wonder if I can’t empathise a tiny bit with her frantic need to get out.

I dig at my eyes with the heel of my palm. There’s nothing keeping me here, not technically. The contractors who looked at the house said they would take care of everything if necessary – packing up, cleaning up, painting over the cracks in the wall and the whole entire list of things that need to happen. The manager assured me that there would be no extra cost or inconvenience to me.

There’s a flat waiting for me back in the city, one that I used to feel somewhat at home in. Themis has owners waiting to take care of her, owners she certainly likes a lot better than she likes me.

Nothing truly tethers me here. Every moment I spend in this house lodges itself in my spine and in the tense set of my shoulders; it hasn’t been my home for many years. And yet the thought of strangers tramping through the kitchen, strangers running their hands over the plethora of knick-knacks that cover every spare inch, makes my stomach turn. Mum was a magpie with her own particular definition of shiny objects. I can’t hope that professional renovators would understand something as innocent as that, and the idea of strangers rooting through her stuff only to laugh at her is unbearable. The glass jar legion would certainly never forgive such an intrusion.

I jerk as the fridge lets out a mechanical crunching noise.

Themis is still missing. The remains of mum’s herb bundles still coat my countertops. Dishes still tower in precarious piles. The glass jar recruit still pokes over the edge of the kitchen table, cobwebs still flutter in the corner, and an oily layer of grime still clings to my hand when I pick it up from the floor. I’ve been sitting here for heaven knows how long, staring at the pattern in the tiles underneath me, accomplishing absolutely nothing while absolutely incapable of doing anything else.

Sometimes, I wonder how long I can keep this up.

I got inspired-
for the first time in forever, literally-

---

And there she stood
In the middle of the room,
Of the aquarium
Arms crossed,
Her curious eyes wandering about.

The fish swam in schools,
And the dolphins came to say hello.

The sun outside lit up the water
Lighting up the massive columns underwater
Holding up the bridge-like structure outdoors

But all around her
The darkness surrounded
Only the small lights
Could pierce the inky-black
That threatened to swallow you whole

The girl,
She was not supposed to be there
And yet,
There she stood
Arms crossed,
And her curious eyes
Wandered about

ninja:
i. hjdchjdf i love this so much?? all the little witchy things are so nice as a pagan myself, and the way they kind of tie into these memories is. i love the general bittersweet and almost stifled feeling of your writing here, the way you can feel the main character's ache to leave and how the cat(Themis is such a great name i love you so much for choosing it) seems to feel about the same way.
it almost seems like the house, after i'm assuming the mother's passing, has become more of a prison for them, less a home and comfort and more the kind of place you can't stand being but don't want to leave behind. i'm rambling now, but yeah. there's seriously not much to critique here, i maybe just wish for a bit more exposition into what's going on. beyond that though, i seriously just love it.

izzy: hey!! we don't see too much from you, but i love it when we do!

"The sun outside lit up the water
Lighting up the massive columns underwater
Holding up the bridge-like structure outdoors"

i love this stanza so much for some reason. it's just so simply beautiful, and it's got this more innocent tone that i can't quite explain? and the repetition of the beginning and the end of the poem is pretty interesting! unfortunately, it maybe was a bit clunky? i think the direct quotation of the lines you used at the beginning ?might have been the reason for this, sort of taking away the oomph it could have had. a little bit of rephrasing could probably shoot that through the roof, 'cause it's an incredible poem as is, but that would make the ending fit so well with the rest of it!

yeah, i had a bit of a struggle trying to phrase it a way that i liked, which failed, as you can see
but thank you so much!!!

fhjdfhkd I'm so glad it came across that way?? I was really nervous about it because it's a lot less,,, edited, than what I usually share, so it's a big relief to know that some of the mood came across! (your interpretation is spot on, by the way)
and I'd be fascinated to know what you mean by witchy things? I know next to nothing about pagan culture, so anything that's in there is entirely unintentional

yeah, i had a bit of a struggle trying to phrase it a way that i liked, which failed, as you can see
but thank you so much!!!

the ends of poems tend to be the hardest for me, too, so I completely get that. you did pretty well though despite that struggle!

fhjdfhkd I'm so glad it came across that way?? I was really nervous about it because it's a lot less,,, edited, than what I usually share, so it's a big relief to know that some of the mood came across! (your interpretation is spot on, by the way)
and I'd be fascinated to know what you mean by witchy things? I know next to nothing about pagan culture, so anything that's in there is entirely unintentional

the herbs and the jars and the cat are all things commonly associated with pagan and wiccan religions lmao. you didnt mean to I'm guessing, but it kinda looks like her mother was maybe practicing. either way though, I do like it!

yeah, i had a bit of a struggle trying to phrase it a way that i liked, which failed, as you can see
but thank you so much!!!

the ends of poems tend to be the hardest for me, too, so I completely get that. you did pretty well though despite that struggle!

thank you!! :DDD

I have two things! One isn't exactly a writing, it's just a character that I now adore, but I'd love to have some feedback on the bab. For once, I'm not gonna bombard y'all with a long string of text, lmao.

• Writing
• Charrie

quarantine has made me many things, but concise is apparently not one of them lmao
apologies for the truly obscene amount of text that's incoming

@crocs
the poem: fabulous. uplifting. confident. imagery is on point.
Favourite lines:

Because I can see myself that way,
Narcissus’ hand in mine,
Showing me how lovely my perfections
And imperfections are.

the last lines are usually the ones I'm most picky and pedantic about. and can I just say you've absolutely nailed them this time?? they honestly read like a mic drop. the Narcissus thing is just. yes.

I couldn't really find much to say? there were a few bits where I wonder if the wording is actually a bit awkward or if it's just my way of reading it. So for example, is the "in" in "I'm comfortable, in knowing this" necessary? Is there a smoother way of saying "drawing forth an urge"? idk man.
A few lines where I wonder if they're worded as effectively as possible would be

I have given myself routine
Where I used to not have one.
And that is something incredible.

idk how to explain this very well, but would it make sense to build up to "routine" rather than starting with it? like start with how you didn't have one before, give an indication of how incredible it is, and then end with "I have given myself routine" as like a final oomph of "yeah I'm awesome". It's like you start with the need to accomplish it and then end on the fact that it has been accomplished?
idk it makes sense in my head. but feel free to ignore this weird rambly attempt at coherence

the prose: here's actual footage of me reading this
it's so pure?? I ship them so hard?? their dynamic is so perfect?? fdshjfkdhsj
I'm pretty sure this is just because I don't know any context and so foreshadowing goes right over my head, but it feels like there's sometimes a lack of focus? in the narration. from what I can tell, the first bit is meant to be Kasper reminiscing about how he met Jo and how much Jo means to him as he's sitting at his bedside. but we're hearing all about Ireland and how the town is just this side of strange and mice and as a reader I'm left wondering how much of that is strictly necessary.
it could also just be super good characterisation of Kasper's thought process, if he's anything like I imagine him to be, tbh.

anyway, thank you for blessing us doubly this week

@Icefire_married_two_people
you consistently take pleasure in breaking my heart in 600 words or less huh. that's just the tiiiniest bit sadistic of you. but it means your writing is very effective!! Strong sentence structure, strong images, generally high tension that feels vivid and real.
Like crocs said, the main thing I noticed is that this would really benefit from being longer. It's great as is, but there's just a lot of backstory and exposition being dropped in quite a short time, which can detract from the tension and what's happening in the moment. It would also allow for less exposition through dialogue, which I feel would leave more room for characterisation, more room to work on their unique voice and give hints into their dynamic.
and of course, the last bit presents a huge shift in narrative style, which makes sense since the original pov character dies. but it's just a tiny bit jarring to suddenly move into omniscience, and then arguably into Lex's perspective.

but yeah, I get that this was just an in the moment writing exercise. so it was really, really well done.

@izzy-is-a-depressed-idiot
I really love this!! you've chosen some really strong images, really strong word choice, and a structure that isn't overloaded with unnecessary words, so the images can really shine.
Favourite lines:

The sun outside lit up the water
Lighting up the massive columns underwater
Holding up the bridge-like structure outdoors

One thing I noticed is a slight bit of ambiguity in the third stanza. the lack of punctuation meant that at first I thought "only the small lights" was meant to be in the same sentence as "the darkness surrounded" rather than the beginning of a new one. So maybe there's a way to clarify what exactly the darkness surrounded, and that would clear up the rest of the stanza and improve the flow.

but yeah, this was really great!! thank you so much for sharing!

@Dances_with_Shadows-the-spooky-midget
both of these are excellent!!

the text: I'm living for this characterisation. Theresa sounds like an intense, self-aware, sassy, salty, brilliant character, and it comes across really well in the way she lays everything out. One thing I wondered as it went along was how intensely personal this was for having no single audience and for being like… band contact with fans, but I'm assuming that that makes sense in the context of the greater story I'm not aware of. I assume there's a context where this isn't as wildly oversharing as it would be in the one I'm thinking of.
not much else to say about this, tbh, except that I really enjoyed it.

the character: very detailed, very thorough, very well-laid out and believable. There's backstory and context for his mannerisms, and the explanations all link together so that while he's complex and faceted, there's enough consistency for it all to link up.
some questions I had as I read through it:
- what does he do for a living? I'm assuming at 21 he's done with school, but I'm not 100% sure where he is, whether he lives at home, what his day to day looks like, and what kind of context he's operating in. I'm sure this is obvious to you, and ultimately the character sheet is meant to be for you, so idk that it would benefit from adding this to it in the end.
- Where was Valka throughout the incident? where was she the night Rowan died? (speaking of - why was there no opportunity to give her medical attention, if she survived throughout the entire night and only died the next morning?) they seem to have a really strong mutually affectionate relationship, and yet the way his struggle is portrayed makes it seem like he went through it almost alone, without much support. How does she feel about the drastic change in his personality?
- in his personality, you mentioned that "he doesn't do anything without seeing if it's either worth the effort and time or if he'll get something out of it". what would make something "worth it" for him? what sorts of things is he looking to gain? does he have any long-term goals or things he wants to achieve?

overall, he's already a super developed and fleshed out character. so feel free to ignore these questions if they don't add anything significant.
thanks so much for sharing!!

and now for prompts!

Music prompt: "Glow" by Aviators
(note that I picked this one mainly for the lyrics and they can be a bit difficult to hear, so if you're interested, you can find them here)

---

Image prompt: "Feet of mahe fishermen standing on their red nets, India" by Eric Lafforgue(seriously, check out this guy's photography)

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word prompt: from Crow's Fall by Ted Hughes (please do read the whole thing if you have time!)

He got his strength up flush and in full glitter.
He clawed and fluffed his rage up.
He aimed his beak direct at the sun's centre.

He laughed himself to the centre of himself

And attacked.

@Dances_with_Shadows-the-spooky-midget
both of these are excellent!!

the text: I'm living for this characterisation. Theresa sounds like an intense, self-aware, sassy, salty, brilliant character, and it comes across really well in the way she lays everything out. One thing I wondered as it went along was how intensely personal this was for having no single audience and for being like… band contact with fans, but I'm assuming that that makes sense in the context of the greater story I'm not aware of. I assume there's a context where this isn't as wildly oversharing as it would be in the one I'm thinking of.
not much else to say about this, tbh, except that I really enjoyed it.

The one thing that I've done for this band is something that most bands don't do: they lay it all out to their fans. It's what makes them stand out. They answer any and all questions people have for them because they don't want to keep secrets from the people that support them. They're aged-out foster kids and someone that was shipped to a different country to be put up for adoption at the age of 15. They're previous drug addicts and borderline alcoholics. They've got serious mental issues. They're abuse victims, and a lot more. Their goal is to reach out to people with similar stories and connect with them, but also to shed some light on the parts of the world that people like to ignore or hide.

So, to sum up that entire explanation: Yes, for most bands it would be too personal to share, but that's what HH does. No secrets. If someone asks a question, they're getting an answer, no matter how depressing or graphic it is.

the character: very detailed, very thorough, very well-laid out and believable. There's backstory and context for his mannerisms, and the explanations all link together so that while he's complex and faceted, there's enough consistency for it all to link up.
some questions I had as I read through it:
what does he do for a living? I'm assuming at 21 he's done with school, but I'm not 100% sure where he is, whether he lives at home, what his day to day looks like, and what kind of context he's operating in. I'm sure this is obvious to you, and ultimately the character sheet is meant to be for you, so idk that it would benefit from adding this to it in the end.

Actually, I never really thought about it. This entire document was meant to be notes for a complex character I was using in a roleplay because I needed to know his mindset and habits, as well as document habits I unintentionally gave him, but I got a little too attached and involved lmao. If I ever get to extracting him from the roleplay as a "What if" I'll consider those questions.

Where was Valka throughout the incident? where was she the night Rowan died? (speaking of - why was there no opportunity to give her medical attention, if she survived throughout the entire night and only died the next morning?) they seem to have a really strong mutually affectionate relationship, and yet the way his struggle is portrayed makes it seem like he went through it almost alone, without much support. How does she feel about the drastic change in his personality?

• Valka, I'm assuming, would've been sleeping, since I'm picturing this happening around midnight. Mikhail walks really quietly (something I should add in the habits section), and wouldn't have wanted to wake up his mom.
• Mikhail told her it'd be alright because he was going to get her medical attention, but she insisted on waiting until the next morning. She knew she wasn't going to make it—and she wanted that, in the end. She'd get to be with her mother again, and she'd be away from her father's abuse. The only thing she regretted was leaving Mikhail.
• As said above, Valka wouldn't have know Rowan was even there until the morning, so she found out about it only after Mikhail woke her up to tell her she was dead. After that, he really did struggle alone because he pushed everyone away, even his mom, though his relationship with her was too strong to really cut her out. Everything was semi-normal, but he never let her broach the subject of Rowan. If she did, she'd get only stony silence. She didn't know what to do.
• She's hurt, confused, and feels like it's her fault for her baby having to go through something like that. She's sad because she knows she'll never see the old Mikhail again, and never be able to get him to open up again. She doesn't know what to do about it, so, regretfully, she pretends that everything is normal—which it almost is, except a few things. She doesn't really get the full extent of his apathy because of their bond, so she doesn't have the opportunity to really understand what happened to him, since he doesn't show her.

in his personality, you mentioned that "he doesn't do anything without seeing if it's either worth the effort and time or if he'll get something out of it". what would make something "worth it" for him? what sorts of things is he looking to gain? does he have any long-term goals or things he wants to achieve?

Hm, it depends on what he's offered. He'll weigh pros and cons if it's something like being offered a job in a rebellion (which he was in the rp, so this is taken from that). If the chances of success are extremely low, he'll be extremely doubtful that the time he potentially spends in helping this rebellion—and potentially his life—will be worth it. Now, if you offered a piece of information in return for an answer to a question (question for a question sorta game), he'll do it because he gets something out of it that he can potentially use. Really, as i said, it just depends on what he's giving and gaining. OH, here's another situation. He loves climbing trees, but he won't climb a cliff. Why? Because the effort put into climbing a cliff is more than climbing a tree, and in the end, for him, there's nothing that could be "worth it" at the end of the climb like there is with a tree. He loves heights and looking around at all the nature, so climbing something that's easier and potentially higher up is more worth the effort than a cliff.

overall, he's already a super developed and fleshed out character. so feel free to ignore these questions if they don't add anything significant.
thanks so much for sharing!!

hey, thanks for humouring my curiosity! that makes a lot of sense - all the best with your rping then!

@Icefire_married_two_people
you consistently take pleasure in breaking my heart in 600 words or less huh. that's just the tiiiniest bit sadistic of you. but it means your writing is very effective!! Strong sentence structure, strong images, generally high tension that feels vivid and real.

Aww thank you so much!!

Like crocs said, the main thing I noticed is that this would really benefit from being longer. It's great as is, but there's just a lot of backstory and exposition being dropped in quite a short time, which can detract from the tension and what's happening in the moment. It would also allow for less exposition through dialogue, which I feel would leave more room for characterisation, more room to work on their unique voice and give hints into their dynamic.

I was kinda just writing it as I went, so…yeah. I get what you're saying, though. The backstory needed to be in there and i didn't know how else to put it in

and of course, the last bit presents a huge shift in narrative style, which makes sense since the original pov character dies. but it's just a tiny bit jarring to suddenly move into omniscience, and then arguably into Lex's perspective.
but yeah, I get that this was just an in the moment writing exercise. so it was really, really well done.

I probably should have done a better job of shifting or at least marking that it was shifting, sorry!
Again, thank you so much!

hey, thanks for humouring my curiosity! that makes a lot of sense - all the best with your rping then!

No problem! It was a nice way to look more into Mikhail—and a nice way to wake myself up. And thanks!

I see what you mean about the lines, and im honestly probably going to go through and correct the clunkier lines. thank you for the advice!

as for the drabble, that's just kind of how he is. no matter how actually level headed he is, kas has certain flighty tendencies, thought wise. it comes from how he was raised. when you come from a family of people seeing the future, there are things more important to think about usually, and kasper picked that up. a lot of is looking back on the past for its ties to the future, hence the importance he places on it