forum Virtual Creative Writing Club, anyone?

Started July 06, 2019 by @ninja_violinist

tune

I have this idea for a DnD character, and I think writing their origin down would help me get a much better sense of who they are. Bonus points if you can guess what their appearance is based on!

The old workshop hummed with life as Thorgrim and his apprentices toiled into the night. They had discovered an abandoned Warforged, one from a race of sentient machines thought to have been exterminated years ago. Its face was sunken and skeletal, the pits of its eyes black and lifeless. Thorgrim needed to repair most of the corroded hydraulics and replace a few wires, but this Warforged was in pretty decent condition despite being discovered in an abandoned mineshaft. A few more hours of work led to it being nearly done, but it was already late. Thorgrim and his apprentices decided to call it a night and put the finishing touches on in the morning. Besides, even if they completed their work now, it's not like anything would happen. There wasn't even a power supply. This ancient Warforged would be a lifeless doll that could sell for a few hundred gold, nothing more.

The cosmos has a way with irony, it seems.

Through some divine coincidence, the gods had taken notice of this Warforged. It was a Ty'ronec, after all. The Ty'ronec were created to be especially brutal killing machines, their unmoving mouths and static eyes having struck fear into the hearts of mortals thousands of years ago. Each god tried reaching out tendrils of their influence in hopes of gaining a new servant. Was it a miracle? Was it an omen of destruction? No matter what the intended outcome may have been, no one could have foreseen what would become of this Warforged. Somewhere within the realms of the gods, there was a rumble.

Thorgrim's youngest apprentice, Annalise, awoke bleary-eyed in the wee hours of the morning. She hadn't gotten much sleep before being awoken again by the sounds of tinkering. Those cheeky bastards! she thought. Trying to finish without me?

As she went to the workshop, she noticed a green light spilling out from underneath the crack of the closed door. Annalise opened the door.

"I can't believe you three tried to fi–"

Her words were cut off by a gasp that caught in her throat. The Warforged was at the workbench, tinkering on something. Its body was obscuring its project, but Annalise was more taken aback by how it was working. The solid arms that once hung at its sides were now split apart into spider-like appendages, each digit focusing on a different task. Two were winding wires together to create strings of varying thicknesses, others were piecing together plates and holding small cylinders of metal close to its body before setting them onto the workbench. Annalise, slowly looking over the Warforged's shoulder, realized that those cylinders were moving and sticking to each other, having somehow been magnetized by simply touching its body.

"Who. Are. You?"

Annalise yelped in fright and stumbled backward to the floor, her feet catching on a piece of scrap that someone had forgotten to put away. The Warforged's arms jittered and clanked, reassembling themselves until two human-like arms were created. The automaton turned to face Annalise with slow, intentional movements before looking down at her. Its mouth, if you could even call it that, was meant to look like a skull with its mouth closed. One long horizontal line with four evenly spaced vertical lines resembling what could have been mistaken for a child's drawing of teeth. As it spoke, the mouth lit up with the same bright green that Annalise had seen under the door.

"You are not the Creator."

"Who are you?!" Annalise shouted, reaching for a set of pliers that was on the floor. It must have been discarded by the Warforged during its tinkering. She brandished it like a knife, which merited no reaction from the Warforged.

"I have no name, save for the title bestowed upon me by my patron," said the Warforged in its coarse imitation of the human language. "My name is Primus, Amplifier of Vaynedum, the God of Noise."

Upon speaking those words, a blood-red symbol etched itself onto Primus's forehead:

i'm actually glad they sound strange and unusual because that was kinda the goal? i wanted it to have a very specific Vibe that was different from other things i've written?? and now i'm crying cause it sounds like it worked and that's so cool

comic sans is my go to for creativity and also people hate it so i use it out of spite. pairing it with latin is the funniest thing dfhdfgh

dude that's a long ass time for a project, was it school related or the one on your insta?

see I used to unequivocally hate comic sans but then I found out that it's apparently meant to be more legible for people with dyslexia? so now I tentatively appreciate it, but the combination of that and Latin was not one I was prepared for haha

and yep, it was the insta project. it took so long mainly because I take forever to slog through official government reports on structural discrimination
they have many merits but compelling prose is not one of them lmao

Okay, these are the same characters as the letter I wrote a while back, I don't know if you'll remember. This is a scene that I wasn't planning to write for a long while but the prompt made me want to, so here's the first version. Any commentary would be perfect.

---

Lysia could not manage to stand, or even look up. She knew what she would see.
Diego would be slumped against a tree trunk, eyes closed, barely breathing. Yanni would be lying on the ground, her skin made all the more pale for the crimson stain soaking her entire body. Kohmir would be kneeling at her side, crushing leaves between his fingers to alleviate her pain. There would be corpses, blood, abandoned weapons.
And despite their near-total victory, there would be a gaping hole in the scene. A hollow spot, lonely and empty. It was meant to be filled by a corpse. A corpse, Lysia could bear. But the burning, churning emptiness of that spot was ripping her apart.
Lysia still felt like she was looking Dorota in the eye, watching the blade sprout from her stomach. It felt like she had never blinked, and never opened her eyes to see nothing there. Dorota had never been hurt, and never disappeared into thin air. She was sitting next to her brother, picking the dirt out of his hair, and Lysia had not been curled up in the same spot for an hour. She wasn’t aimlessly staring as her world collapsed around her.
She had her friends. Her four people, the only people she had ever needed. They were right here with her. Where else would they be?
She was contained until footsteps made their way to her. The footsteps were familiar for their speed, their gait, but they felt so much heavier. They landed harshly, filling her head with the sound of crunching dirt. The same sound that Dorota’s falling body should have made. A single tear slipped out of the corner of Lysia’s expressionless eye as Diego walked over to the other side of her, where she could see him. He lay down on the ground silently and looked to the sky. Neither one of them moved.
Finally he let his head fall to the side and looked at Lysia, his eyes devoid of any light. They weren’t Diego’s eyes. They weren’t right. Nothing was.
“She’s supposed to be up there," he murmured. “That’s always what we’re told. People die and they end up with the gods.” He reached out and let his hand fall halfway to Lysia’s face. “I don't know where she is. Do you know where she is?”
Lysia let her gaze drift to his hand lying near her. “I don’t know.”

i'm actually glad they sound strange and unusual because that was kinda the goal? i wanted it to have a very specific Vibe that was different from other things i've written?? and now i'm crying cause it sounds like it worked and that's so cool

comic sans is my go to for creativity and also people hate it so i use it out of spite. pairing it with latin is the funniest thing dfhdfgh

dude that's a long ass time for a project, was it school related or the one on your insta?

see I used to unequivocally hate comic sans but then I found out that it's apparently meant to be more legible for people with dyslexia? so now I tentatively appreciate it, but the combination of that and Latin was not one I was prepared for haha

and yep, it was the insta project. it took so long mainly because I take forever to slog through official government reports on structural discrimination
they have many merits but compelling prose is not one of them lmao

fvjdf fair and valid. did you know that white letters on a black background are easier for people with dyslexia to read too? as well as certain shades of blue, which can also improve focus!!

i actually really loved that. the way it was handled was so professionally, and it was all so informative without following to the sites, but if i had had the time i would have and i'm sure they would've offered even more information. you did really good!

fvjdf fair and valid. did you know that white letters on a black background are easier for people with dyslexia to read too? as well as certain shades of blue, which can also improve focus!!

i actually really loved that. the way it was handled was so professionally, and it was all so informative without following to the sites, but if i had had the time i would have and i'm sure they would've offered even more information. you did really good!

fhdshfd someone looking at the absolute buffoolery that was my attempt at presenting information graphically and calling it "professional" is everything I didn't know I needed in life
thank you!!

@Everyone I've gotten the wisest of my teeth removed and will probably be out of commission (ie: in miserable bleeding hamster mode) for quite some time, including Saturday. anyone up for hosting this week?

if nobody volunteers you know i'll jump on that lmao

Ah great, thank you so much!

i am b a c c
but only to post something i literally just finished
woah look at that
it has a decent-ish ending
not some 'to (not) be finished' thing like i usually do ljksdf

---

"Yes, but Mads, you know I love you but you gave me a freaking spoiler!! I wanted to enjoy that movie without knowing what would come next!" Finn shouted, unable to think clearly.

"You know I hate being called 'Mads,'" Madeline whispered quietly, her voice carrying just a hint of lethal poison. "That, a measly, though unwanted, insignificant spoiler was not the end of the world. It did not ruin your entire life. But do you know what does change your entire life? When you pick up your phone, and it's your mom calling, and you haven't spoken to her in years because of a broken relationship. When you answer, hesitantly, only to find crying noises on the other end. And when you ask what's wrong? She simply answers, 'Maddie, I'm so, so sorry hun, I'm so sorry…,' and then falls silent for the longest minute of your life. She then continues, finally able to speak again, 'Maddie I'm so sorry, we're dying and I didn't know it.' She sounds so distraught, your own mother, who has carried her own through her entire life, is now breaking down. And what do you do in that situation? You're dying and you don't even know what from, or how, or how long you have left, and the rest of your family is dying as well, but your mother is too much of a mess to explain anything else to you before she hangs up, leaving you alone to deal with this mess. That's what changes your entire world, Finn. Not some silly spoiler, that's what changes your world," she finished, her voice rising in intensity with every word, until she finally gave out, collapsing on the floor, sobbing silently as she said the last word.

"My God Madeline, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-" Finn started to say, his face changing to an unreadable expression.

Madeline sat up and glared at him through her tears. "No, of course you didn't know. Don't even say that, because I know that. I know that already…"

"God, was this what you wanted to tell me earlier, before I was going to watch that Spiderman movie?" he asked, his voice full of hesitation. He started to say something else, but he found himself unable to finish his sentence. "I'm sorry, I-"

Madeline rose to her feet and angrily wiped the tears from her face. Her voice trembling, and everything about her indicating that she was highly unstable, she spoke: "We- we're done here, Finn. I think we need some time apart, for I can't even tell you anything serious without you blowing up about the smallest things."

She turned around and sprinted out of the room. What a dumbass you were, Madeline! she shouted at herself inside her head angrily. You should have forgiven him, let him comfort you, you of all people should know how long it's been since you've had an actual hug! He would've hugged you the second you asked, he cares about you! You know this, so why are you letting him go?

As Madeline made it out of the building, she collapsed once more onto her knees in the bright sunlight. "I- I can't do this anymore," she whispered just to herself. Several pieces of paper flew past her, but only one landed on the ground in front of her. The date was proudly displayed on the front: May 8th, 2094. Frick that, why does the date even matter anymore? After all, I'm just going to die anyways! Wish I could go back to the simpler days of the 2070's… she thought to herself.
~
"God, Madeline! I just- I don't know what to do!" Finn shouted after her as she left the room, running a hand through his hair. For the longest three seconds, he couldn't figure out what to do. Would Madeline want some time to herself? Or would she want him to chase after her? He debated between the two options with himself for the next thirty seconds, before making his decision. Finn tore after Madeline, running outside of the building and searching the property for her.

It wasn't long before he spotted the familiar pale purple hair and bright blue backpack he knew so well. "Maddie!" he breathed, running over to her and enveloped her in a big bear hug. He didn't care what Maddie said at that point. He didn't care what she did to try to push him off. He was going to be there for her, and nothing she said or did was going to make him leave her. "I'm here for you, Maddie," he whispered into her left ear, closing his eyes in sadness. "I'm never leaving you again, promise."

So I've been shit at writing something this week, so here's a short Thing I whipped up at ten at night.

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Cinthia awoke in a cold sweat. It was a slow process, numb limbs slowly trickling feeling back while maintaining their happy paralysis. She felt immensely drained—mentally, physically, magically. She had taken a tonic. A strong one, she remembered. One that could very easily kill a mere mortal, Fenris had said as he handed it to her.

Either he had lied to make her feel better, or something happened to jar her from her death-sleep.

The thing that frustrated her the most was her inability to sniff out the issue. Her body refused to respond to her brain's commands. Eventually, she could slide from her bed—took too long, in her opinion, but now wasn't the time for complaints—and she made her way through the sleeping house.

Pat pat pat. bare feet against worn boards traveled from room to room, curiosity and frustration increasing with each unchanged room. Sleepers remained sleeping. Furniture remained stationary. Papers remained unruffled.

What had happened to drain her?

A soft whimper caught the queens attention. She had passed that room, surveyed it as empty and normal, but—there it went again. A whimper. What could possibly be the cause of that? The children weren't present, a slight relief, but it only served to heighten her curiosity even more.

Hunter's instinct kicked in. Cinthia eased into the room on silent footsteps, avoiding the creaky floorboards with skilled precision. Sure of her silence, the frantic scrabbling against wood caught her off guard. A precious second ticked by before her mind registered the escape attempt, and another passed by the time she flung out a hand and shut the door on an invisible wind. The slam would've echoed throughout the house had she not also flung a silencing wall around the room.

More scrabbling and a near shriek. Cinthia lunged towards the sounds, lunged towards anything that might help her. Her hands caught nothing, but her nails scrapped against flesh. What? Shoulder met wall. The queen lost her balance for half a second, and the other half had her launching herself blindly towards the middle of the room.

"Nooo!!"

Whatever she had landed on thrashed and screamed and wailed. Cinthia shut out the horrendous noises and instead focused on situating the two bodies. One second, two, four, seven. Finally, finally, she straddled what seemed to be a waist and pushed back her mountain of curls to see what she caught.

"Oh."

Misty green and blue eyes pierced through hers, the colors swirling in the watery irises. Trembling lips gleamed with salt water. Caramel skin trembled fearfully.

It was a human, and not just any kind of human.

Cinthia sighed and leaned back, staring down at the blubbering creature beneath her, crafted in her image. "Well shit."

No wonder she felt so out of it.

since ninja requested someone to take over this week and nobody volunteered but me, i am once again here to offer absolute bullshit critiques

@Yamatsu

duuude. your atmospheric writing is the best. you didn't even actually have to describe the scenery and setting itself, just a few phrases had me imagining an entire new space that i had never seen before? so like hella props to that, honestly. literally i have two complaints and they're both stupid.

the first is just that you have larger paragraph chunks which actually isn't a problem, my writer brain is just a coward with add who loses it's place lmao. and you handled larger paragraphs so gracefully anyway

the second is that you have left me on a cliffhanger and that's very rude. i want to know what happens and get to know these characters, dnd oneshots or not lmao

anyway your premise was great and it was pulled off so well! sorry it's not very critique-y but

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@amber_is_a_starchild

would this count as a Pyrrhic victory? because to the characters it sure as hell seems to be

i absolutely loved the last lines, that chunk about the gods and not knowing where their friend ended up. incredible, heartwrenching, i am dying. how dare you. and this?

"And despite their near-total victory, there would be a gaping hole in the scene. A hollow spot, lonely and empty. It was meant to be filled by a corpse. A corpse, Lysia could bear. But the burning, churning emptiness of that spot was ripping her apart."

iconic. the description and inner monologue is like, goals. also burning and churning rhyme which was slightly funny. but anyway, i love the talk of how a corpse belongs in that spot, but there isn't one, and i love that you paint that so well as wrong because it really is.

only complaint is that it feels a bit disjointed and could probably use a little bit more filler? not like filler filler, of course, but stretching it out more, allowing the reader to comprehend what exactly is happening, the like

overall i love it though!!

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@izzy-the-vampire-ghost

First thing to note, which can easily be chalked up to us not having full context, is that the outburst right at the beginning seems very out of place and infodump-y. without warning, she's breaking down in a way that i don't think is entirely realistic to a breakdown? if you were to rewrite that, i'd suggest spacing it out, maybe have her get irrationally mad about him getting upset about the spoiler and then when he asks what's, you know, wrong since it's obvious that's not the problem, that's when she breaks down. cutting up your dialogue there with action would be really helpful too!

i do really like the internal monologue bit, where she is aware that she made a stupid decision but is still too caught up to fix it right then. which is entirely valid, because after just coming to terms with the news she'd been given, she's kind of entitled to a breakdown. very nicely done! just a little thing, you could almost cut down on her wording there in that thought process? but it's not at all necessary so don't worry!!

also i was very happy when finn ran to hug her. he did something most people have issues doing, recognizing a call for help, and did his best to do so! icon and we stan

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@strangebird

well okay, you already know my thoughts on this lmao

there are some bits that are kind of confusing, mainly just the scene where cin goes through the little scuffle. idk i could be entirely stupid–oh wait, we know i am–but it confused the shit out of me at first lmao

@strangebird

well okay, you already know my thoughts on this lmao

there are some bits that are kind of confusing, mainly just the scene where cin goes through the little scuffle. idk i could be entirely stupid–oh wait, we know i am–but it confused the shit out of me at first lmao

That would be because it was late so Tired Author Brain and also Cin herself was out of it, so she herself isn't really sure what's going on—and her vision is shit because of her bedhead hair

prompt time!!

in memory of Naya Rivera, and because i've been on a glee song kick, our music prompt is Don't Rain On My Parade

not the most traditional inspiring music, but it definitely makes me want to write a bright eyed, up and coming character of sorts

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image prompt is this, an art print by Phil Koch.

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and lastly, the image prompt that took me way too long to find lmao

@Yamatsu

duuude. your atmospheric writing is the best. you didn't even actually have to describe the scenery and setting itself, just a few phrases had me imagining an entire new space that i had never seen before? so like hella props to that, honestly. literally i have two complaints and they're both stupid.

the first is just that you have larger paragraph chunks which actually isn't a problem, my writer brain is just a coward with add who loses it's place lmao. and you handled larger paragraphs so gracefully anyway

the second is that you have left me on a cliffhanger and that's very rude. i want to know what happens and get to know these characters, dnd oneshots or not lmao

anyway your premise was great and it was pulled off so well! sorry it's not very critique-y but

Yaaayyy!!!! :D

I wanted to continue writing and describing the character, but that would have taken another ten pages and I had that stroke of inspiration cooking throughout the whole day.

you know, if you ever feel like writing a non serious but long af description i'm pretty sure most people here would love it lmao i know i would

I did it

Thank you ninja!
i…
did a thing
just now
and finished it
and i'm pretty happy about how i wrapped it up
since i've been doing noticably better at endings, or at least for me it's been noticable
sorry if it gets a little spammy jlkdfs

also i'd like to say two more things:
quick shoutout to blobbers n sherry / mama crem for letting me write them into the story (and no, hector is not blobbers' real name, i just needed a name lmao)

and yes the name at the end is kinda cringey imo and def bad but i needed a name and this is what my fren came up with lol

---

Prompt
Legends Never Die (yes that's the name of a song but idc)
I guess legends really do die after all.

“Legends never die,” we used to whisper together in the dead of night, smiling to ourselves. I wonder what happened? Perhaps we just grew too different. Perhaps I did something wrong. Perhaps you did something wrong, perhaps we both screwed up somewhere along the way. I wonder what it was we did wrong…

And now… and now? We’re just… well, at least I’m a screwup. Since somewhere along the way, I messed something up. And now we’re just two broken halves of a circle, never to be reunited again. I wonder, sometimes I wonder if you’ve moved on. Sometimes I wonder if you forgot about me already. I hope so, you were too nice to carry all this pain with you.

Which reminds me, remember how we started our tradition? Haha, I remember, but do you? Here, since you can’t tell me, I’ll assume you don’t, and retell the story anyways. Remember Hector? The one who refused to go to sleep in the middle of the night, even when it was 8am, and sometimes even later. Who knows? His sleep schedule was always wack, and was quite nonexistent as well. But anyways, we first met in highschool, and we were never particularly close (or at least throughout highschool we weren’t), though it was quite fun calling him Blobbers, for that was his nickname, or so he told us.

And then fast forward to college, and we got closer, which eventually led to us meeting. That was the day we’d decided to meet each other at our classes cause why not? Then you came out of the classroom. It was no secret in the school that either of us weren’t straight, since we’d both dated girls before. Just… just not each other. But then again, we also didn’t know each other at all before that fated day. The day we met. Oh, how I’ll forever treasure that day… but I digress.

I remember how pretty you looked that day, like you could care less if the world was going to explode. Walking without a care in the world, how I would’ve loved to be like you that day. “Who’s that girl?" I whispered to him, in awe of how… for lack of a better word, well, cute you looked that day.

“Sherry,” he told me, then proceeded to tell me that she was an artist, and even had a public Instagram page I could follow, as I oogled and awed at all of your work. From that day on, I aspired to be just as good as you, for I too, was an artist. But I couldn’t help but wonder— how was it that you were so good at what you did? The proportions always seemed to be so accurate, and the coloring was on-spot… Practice, my mind told me, but I still thought you had some sort of innate talent that had helped you get so far.

It took me a whole six months to build up the courage to even approach you. Talking to you? That was a whole other thing, but I’d have to talk to you if I was going to approach you, so being the stumbly mess I was, I walked stumbled over to you, nervously biting my lip. Do you remember now? Do you remember my first words to you? I know, they were so lame. “H-hello… I heard you’re an artist,” I said. God, how I cringe upon this words now. There were a million other things I could’ve said, but out of all of them, that?

But the way you responded, the way you so sweetly smiled at me, that did it. “Yeah,” you replied, laughing softly in your sweet way. “I’m an artist, are you?”

I couldn’t help my face lighting up, both surprised and overly giddy that you’d actually responded to me. After all, I’d figured you were way out of my league, what with you being so pretty and all. I was sure all the boys had fallen for you already. “…yeah, I am as well! By the way, my friend showed me your Instagram page… sorry if this sounds weird, but I love your art,” I managed to get out, just barely keeping the words, ‘I like you,’ to myself. Now isn’t the time to tell her that, dumbass! I told myself sternly, but just inside my head.

“O-oh, thanks,” you laughed again. There was that sweet, sweet smile I loved, and still love to this day, actually. How I’d love to see you smile one last time before you leave again… And then the unexpected happened. You blushed. You blushed! That was the last thing I expected, if I was being honest. A flurry of questions ran through my mind. Did you like me back? Were you just happy I complimented your work? Would that maybe be because no one had ever told you that before? Or maybe you just weren’t used to compliments…?

In any case, I hoped to the moon and back that you liked me back, but still, I kept my words to myself. Still isn’t the right time to tell her, even if she does like me, I told myself then.

~

Fast forward a year and a half, and boom, we were dating. Haha, it makes me smile when I think of when you told me you liked me. You were always more bold than I was, especially when it came to feelings. Boy am I glad we came to be friends throughout that first year. Looking back on it, I don’t know how I kept all that to myself for so long.

Then the camping trip. Do you remember that? We sat out in the dark, talking about so many different things for five hours. And then the sun rose, oop- eventually, though, I think it was around 7am we fell asleep. Though, I think it was a good five hours wasted. We got to know each other a little better, but when I think about it now, maybe we shouldn’t have done that. Perhaps, that was what broke us apart.

Ahh, I forgot to mention who came up with our little phrase we used to repeat to each other. That’s why I brought up Hector, right. Sorry, I got a little bit sidetracked there haha. Anyways, remember how he used to call us the couple of legends? “Legends never die.” That was his catchphrase, everytime he saw us together, he’d repeat it, grinning wildly at us. It didn’t take long for us to catch on. It became our little phrase instead, though Hector never did quite stop until, well, we broke up.

…I guess legends really do die, after all. What with considering all that went down, I still wonder what happened, sometimes. But I do hope you’re doing well, maybe found someone better to date? Perhaps you got married early, who knows. Which reminds me, I still don’t know why I’m writing this. I don’t even know where you live anymore, or your email address. Last time I tried to check up on you, which was three weeks ago, Google told me the email I inputted no longer existed. So I guess you tried to make a fresh start, huh? Well, I can’t really blame you, after all I get that. Move on from everything and move to somewhere new, where no one knows you.

I get that, I really do. You know, maybe I should try that someday. But perhaps I’ll print this out and mail it to you. Or at least, your old address. Or maybe I’ll try one of those sketchy find-a-person sites to find your new address. But I probably shouldn’t, you might get a bit too freaked out by that. So instead, I think I’ll probably just mail this to your old address, and hope you get it. I… I miss you Sherry. But, keep in mind you’re under no obligation to respond to this. Just… wanted to write something to you. Contact you, whatever. Again, hope you’re doing well.

Alexa Amazon

thanks so much to crocs for taking over last week!! I was in even less shape to offer advice than I usually am, and in general I'm always glad to have some fresh opinions in here. (if anyone's ever up for hosting, just let me know!)

@Yamatsu unfortunately your document either doesn't exist or isn't public, so I wasn't able to take a look at it. please feel free to drop another link if you want feedback on it! I'd always love to read some hardcore description

@izzy-the-vampire-ghost you know, you're absolutely right that your endings are improving! I get the impression that you start out with a much clearer view of where you want to end up (at least in this specific case), so you're subtly signposting that as you go, which then allows you to draw a neater conclusion.
along with internal consistency in this piece, you've also once again got some really vivid characterisation in the narration! there's quite a balance between meandering to express the narrator's character and meandering to the point of losing the audience, which for the most part you've managed rather gracefully.
one thing I noticed is that you have a few sentences which run on to the point of confusion. for example,

But anyways, we first met in high school, and we were never particularly close (or at least through high school we weren't), though it was quite fun calling him Blobbers, for that was his nickname, or so he told us.

there's just a lot of information there that isn't necessarily related enough to need to be in the same sentence.
idk. I'd also take a look at some of the more formal language you use, like "for that was his nickname" or "I cringe upon this words now" (generally not sure about the grammar in that one), which can make the whole thing sound a bit uncomfortably formal at times? once again, it does lie in a balance with giving the narrator a unique voice, but it can sound a bit stilted or awkward at times.

so basically, you have really strong characterisation, which is a good thing! but while I understand the character being a bit more verbose and excitable, I think there does come a point where clarity needs to win over characterisation. again, it's very subjective and absolutely your call on how to balance it. so just some things to think about. but it was a fun read, and thank you so much for sharing!

prompt time!!
the loss of all of my remaining wisdom last week cemented my descent into nostalgia, and unfortunately for y'all I'm in charge of prompts

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the music prompt is "Pompeii" by Bastille (I know. I know. but thirteen-year-old me is vibing)

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image prompt is one I took a few years ago. I think I'll call it "Wistful Goose"

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word prompts are from some past papers from my English Language course back in high school (I think one of them is literally the one I responded to in the exam, but I'm not 100% sure). if you're feeling particularly masochistic, you could try and fit the original word count of 600-900 words.
if we ignore the soulless marking scheme, miserable exam conditions, heartless grading curve and impossible standards, I think a world could exist in which these weren't entirely terrible.

Write a story which begins with the following sentence: Jo looked through the window and saw the island in the distance. In your writing, create a sense of suspense and anticipation.

Write a descriptive piece about a busy train station. In your writing, focus on sound, movement and colour to help your reader imagine the scene.

Write two contrasting diary entries. The first is by a young person who has just tried a new activity for the first time; the second is by the same person, now older, who has just won a major prize for this activity. In your writing, create a sense of the person’s outlook and mood.

Made it public

can you believe I finally wrote something? anyway here's lorelei getting an extra dimple, please read the title for trigger warnings

I have another DnD character brewing, I seem to be on a roll with these. Bonus points if y'all can figure out the race!

Jericho was having an absolutely lovely day! He woke up bright and early, was able to tend to his garden, and even had some time left to relax before he would meet his friend for tea that day. As he sat down under a tree by the lake he lived near, he slowly began to sink into the mud. Down, down he went until only his large head protruded from the ground. He closed his eyes and took in the scenery from what he could feel. The cool air, the dampness of the earth, and the footfalls of woodland creatures nearby slowly came to him through the earth itself. He began to sing, his rumbly voice scaring some of the fish in the lake. Jericho didn't care, though. He knew that the animals thought he was big and scary, so he mostly hid so that people wouldn't find him.

People that weren't Freya, of course. She seemed to be the only person Jericho could really talk to, both physically and metaphorically. Their conversations lasted for hours, sometimes into the wee hours of the morning depending on when they started talking. She was very kind and patient and wasn't scared of him. Jericho liked talking with Freya, but he could only do so once every month or so. She was a cleric at home and was very busy most of the time, helping cure people of sickness and protecting mines from greedy people. However, she always managed to find time to come talk to Jericho, often asking about his garden or if he saw anything interesting while she was gone.

As he was thinking about this, a duck swam up from the lake and plodded over to Jericho. Suddenly, it hopped up onto his head and sat down! He was very surprised by this and remained perfectly still. The duck began preening its feathers, some downy plumes falling onto Jericho's head. He couldn't help but smile at this, his mouth grinding as his lips curled up. The duck hopped off, quickly waddling away and back into the lake.

He frowned, sad that the duck didn't want to stick around for long. Pulling himself up and out of the ground, Jericho brushed some off the topsoil off of his gray arms. Instead of moping for too long, he decided to try out that trick he had been learning. Focusing on the earth energy around him, he tried to focus it on himself. His body grew wet from moisture in the air, and a passing seed latched onto his arm. It grew quickly and a patch of moss now thrived on Jericho's arm. Focusing harder, a stem began to sprout. After some time, Jericho opened his scrunched eyes to find that he had a few crocuses on his arm! He was delighted to see this, Freya would be so proud of him! The sun began to creep higher into the sky, and Jericho realized that he need to go if he wanted to meet his friend on time. He stood up, and as he walked away from the lake, his rocky feet left deep imprints in the soft ground beneath him.

can you believe I finally wrote something? anyway here's lorelei getting an extra dimple, please read the title for trigger warnings

(quick note that the internet powers that be have also decreed this inaccessible - if you'd like feedback on it later, it'd be cool if you could make it public!)

ah, whoops!

Sure thing, this is always open and we'd love to have you onboard!
so feel free to stick around, read or give feedback on other people's writing, and/or share your own stuff! The """"official"""" prompts and feedback from me theoretically come out on Saturdays.