acewriter

[acewriter]

Scott Pilgrim is, I think, the best example I can think of for establishing a setting's Nonsense Limit. The setting's Nonsense Limit isn't quite "How high-fantasy is this". It's mostly a question of presentation, to what degree does the audience feel that they know the rules the world operates by, such that they are primed to accept a random new element being introduced. A setting with a Nonsense Limit of 0 is, like, an everyday story. Something larger than life, but theoretically taking place in our world, like your standard spy thriller action movie has a limit of 1. Some sort of hidden world urban fantasy with wizards and stuff operating in secret has a nonsense limit around 3 or 4. A Superhero setting, presenting an alternate version of our world, is a 5 or 6. High fantasy comes in around a 7 or so, "Oh yeah, Wizards exist and they can do crazy stuff" is pretty commonly accepted. Scott Pilgrim comes in at a 10. If you read the Scott Pilgrim book, it starts off looking like a purely mundane slice of life. The first hint at the fantastical is Ramona appearing repeatedly in Scott's Dreams, and then later showing up in real life. When we finally get an explanation, it's this:

Apparently Subspace Highways are a thing? And they go through people's heads? And Ramona treats this like it's obscure, but not secret knowledge. Ramona doesn't think she's doing anything weird here. At this point, it's not clear if Scott is accepting Ramona's explanation or not, things kind of move on as mundane as ever until their Date, when Ramona takes Scott through subspace, and he doesn't act like his world was just blown open or anything, although I guess that could have been a metaphor. there's a couple other moments, but everything with Ramona could be a metaphor, or Scott not recognizing what's going on. Maybe Ramona is uniquely fantastical in this otherwise normal world. And then, this happens

Suddenly, a fantastical element (A shitty local indie band finishing their set with a song that knocks out most of the audience) is introduced unrelated to Ramona, and undeniably literal. We see the crowd knocked out by Crash and The Boys. but the story doesn't linger on the implications of that, the whole point of that sequence is to raise the Nonsense Level, such that you accept it when This happens

Matthew Patel comes flying down onto the stage, Scott, who until this point is presented as a terrible person and a loser, but otherwise is extremely ordinary, proceeds to flawlessly block and counter him before doing a 64-hit air juggle combo. Scott's friends treat this like Scott is showing off a mildly interesting party trick, like being really good at darts. The establish that Scott is the "Best Fighter in the Province", not only are street-fighter battles a thing, Scott is Very Good at it, but they're so unimportant that being the best fighter in the province doesn't make Scott NOT a loser. So when Matthew Patel shows off his magic powers and then explodes into a pile of coins, we've established "Oh, this is how silly the setting gets". It's not about establishing the RULES of the setting so much as it is about establishing a lack of rules. Scott's skill at street-fighter battles doesn't translate to any sort of social prestige. Ramona can access Subspace Highways and she uses it to do a basic delivery job. It doesn't make sense and it's clear that it's not supposed to. So later on, when Todd Ingram starts throwing around telekinesis, and the explanation we're given is "He's a Vegan" , you're already so primed by the mixture of weirdness and mundanity that rather than trying to incorporate this new knowledge into any sort of coherent setting ruleset, you just go "Ah, yeah, Vegans".

[acewriter]

The Interrogation

Word count: 652

My FFF309 submission for @flashfictionfridayofficial June 13, 2025.

Notes: I'm getting out of a depressive episode and writing feels weird sometimes. And that's why this story actually cuts off too soon. I feel like I'm working out my writing muscles again; making them stronger.

For the past several weeks I've felt uninspired and unmotivated. And when I read today's something in me said, "we need to continue Monica & Sam's journey.

If you're interested in seeing more of Monica & Sam's journey, here's my last submission. I should probably make a chronological list of these stories somewhere. At some point.

Link to the prompt.

Happy Friday the 13th everyone!

For full context: Monica & Sam have met, finally admitted their feelings, and are starting to navigate their lives being connected. But this is a world where not only magic is possible, but even worse forms of police are present: Magic Depts!

Monica has also lost her mother in a tragic accident. One that the police had been investigating. And Monica is in the throes of being accursed.

I saw this "two truths and a lie" scene as them being separated. And originally they ended up forming a link between them (accidentally and very much not on purpose). But I just haven't gotten to that point yet. It's supposed to be a comical moment in an otherwise very tense scene. But maybe I can revisit this when I've finished outlining this story. Which I haven't. It's still in the exploratory stage where random things are coming together.

"Subject has refused to vocally give her last name," two psychics say in unison.

They are in two different rooms, but ones adjacent to each other. One speaks to Monica, the other has the arduous task of trying to speak to Sam.

One of the psychics, who are twins and share a special bond and can communicate seamlessly with each other, puts down the dossier. Her eyes have bugged out.

"Goodness, you don't know how much trouble you'd be in if you actually did that. Just so you know."

"Oh god damnit, I've got psych feds again," Sam's folded arms writhe around as her head bounces around in frustration. "Is this because Monica is a magic user?"

"We are here," says the psych fed to Monica. "Because we believe you had something to do with a family member's passing."

Shit. Fuck. Are they reading my mind right now? I can't can't stand it when psychics read my mind. I'm gonna throw up. Where's Sam?

"Please do not worry," the psych fed said in a toneless manner. "We are just here to ask some questions. Confirm some theories. And send you on your way."

"Like hell you are!" Sam pointed a finger at the fed. "You're here to invade our minds and make us confess to something we didn't do. I've been through this shit before. And it tears minds apart."

"Rest assured that neither of us wish to cause you bodily or mental harm," the sisters said robotically. They had a difficutl time getting into either person's head. And they didn't know why. Which made them hella nervous.

"Anyone who can perform such invasive magic is no good in my book," Monica grimaced but otherwise tried to keep her hands properly on her lap. The more focused she was, the better her ward around Sam would be. But that still put her in danger of being invaded. She also couldn't tell if Sam was gonna run her mouth about anything.

"I don't know her mother. She died before we met."

"What were you doing around the time she passed?" the sister picked up a sheet of paper and stared at it.

Sam could feel some probing.

"Get the fuck outta my head, asshole. And how should I know? When the hell was that?"

The sisters were sweating. But they tried to hide that in their long black hair. They were fresh out of grad school and lucked into a pair of jobs for the magic department of the police. They didn't think this would be quite so difficult.

Shit, someone just listened in to that, they thought. Their defenses shot up like invisible walls.

"Who just did that?" their eyes bugged out in unison. "That's not allowed."

"Invading my mind? You of all people should know how hilarious that is," said Sam. "You've been trying to enter my mind this entire time. But something's blocking you isn't there. So this magical interrogation experiment of yours has been nothing more than two truths and a lie! Fuck you!" she screamed and looked at the wall, saying nothing more.

"Please," the sister said to Monica. "we just got these jobs because nobody else would hire us. This isn't good cop bad cop. We're just doing what we're told." Tears streamed down her face.

"I could've hired you. But you gave up and joined the police of all things," she couldn't believe the line of thought coming from this frightened young woman.

"Why won't you tell us the truth? Or even let us into your minds to confirm it?"

"Just because you can, doesn't mean that you should. And invading my mind means that my word isn't good enough for you. Or for the cops. So fuck off."

She was solemn until the end. But Monica felt that Sam was rubbing off on her. She was more courageous than she had been five minutes ago.

[acewriter]

Story time!

I was filming my first experience on CalTrain when an East Bay Friend told me about a show happening in the city that night (the city meaning San Francisco). They weren’t able to go, but I was. And said I’d report back.

I boarded CalTrain around 10.30am and took the ride down to San Jose, which took 1.5 hours. This gave me time to film an intro video for my YouTube channel and then zen out after 10 minutes.

So about the show! The Hot Takes opened alongside The Fencers. Both amazing bands that lead the way to The Toxhards and their 2 hour freaking show!

I ended up with some seating accommodations and got to sit at the bar with noise cancelling headphones and my sketchpad. This is where my Hot Takes sketch you see above came from. I even bought some merch, including a Hot Takes vinyl record.

But around 10.45pm I had to leave. I hoofed it to catch a MUNI light rail back to BART. I barely made it to the platform around 11pm. Only then did I realize that I left my vinyl behind. My lungs were now killing me as I made it onto the T line.

But then we were caught in traffic. There were approximately a bajillion people coming out from a K-pop concert. So it took us a bit to get back to BART.

I made it with 10 minutes to spare for the last train for my stop in Oakland. I made my way down the escalator to see fellow exhausted transit-goers. Nobody wanted to talk to each other. We each came from nowhere and were going to nowhere. I came from alt rock bands. Others were barely holding on to the light wands from the K-pop concert; makeup falling from their faces to their wild outfits like tears. Others were drinking, having long left their friends and going back to nowhere. The memory of what just happened was left upstairs at the entrance. And we all couldn’t wait to get home.

Welcome to the Subway Liminal Space. Welcome to BART After Dark.

I just had the most incredible night. I’m exhausted from it. I’ll probs reblogged the details on my writer blog tomorrow. Until then enjoy a rendition of The Hot Takes band.

I currently cannot draw feet or shoes convincingly. Have a good night.

[acewriter]

“[Keanu] Reeves said a recent conversation about “The Matrix” with a 15-year-old put things into a terrifying perspective. The actor explained to the teenager that his character, Neo, is fighting for what’s real. The teenager scoffed and said, “Who cares if it’s real?” “People are growing up with these tools: We’re listening to music already that’s made by AI in the style of Nirvana, there’s NFT digital art,” Reeves said. “It’s cool, like, Look what the cute machines can make! But there’s a corporatocracy behind it that’s looking to control those things. Culturally, socially, we’re gonna be confronted by the value of real, or the non-value. And then what’s going to be pushed on us? What’s going to be presented to us?” “It’s this sensorium. It’s spectacle. And it’s a system of control and manipulation,” Reeves continued. “We’re on our knees looking at cave walls and seeing the projections, and we’re not having the chance to look behind us.””

—

Keanu Reeves Slams Deepfakes, Film Contract Prevents Digital Edits - Variety

[acewriter]

[acewriter]

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

[acewriter]

"It's just getting repetitive is all," complained the young lawyer to his colleague. "my cases so far have all been the same."

The elder lawyer nodded sympathetically. "It's like that, especially early in your career."

"I can't take it anymore! My current case is a guy suing a ghost for taking over his body. My last case was a demon suing a living woman for getting a tattoo--this was a breach of their contract for the demon to take over her body--and the case before that was a custody battle between the human who was born in the body and the changeling who had spent his life in it. I'm sick of it!"

The elder lawyer sighed. "Didn't I warn you that possession is nine-tenths of law?"

[acewriter]

Flash Fiction Friday Submission

Word count: 719

Notes:

For @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt, April 25, 2025.

Much like the first post, I had a scene just sort of appear in my head. It's the kind of scene that isn't fully formed, but the emotions were. I thought of Monica and Sam finally starting to talk after avoiding each other (in the sapphic tradition) for weeks before something finally happens and they just... start talking. They've finally and officially met. So I guess that means this scene is a meet cute.

I'm no good at flirting, so when I go back and edit this, maybe there'll be more flirting. Or maybe that'll happen in another chapter. I don't know, but I'm having so much fun exploring this story. I want to get better at writing characters who long for each other, but there are just SO many things keeping them apart.

Additional context!

Monica is dealing with not only her mother's funeral, but she is being harassed by law enforcement over her shop during this chapter. So she truly has a lot on her mind. This chapter is important because her circle of trust (her coven even) starts to grow from here on out. So her line about being a pushover isn't her beating herself up. She actually is learning (much like myself irl) how to not be a pushover. I'm exploring these different themes and how they can intersect with each other. So this isn't JUST a sapphic love story, but it's definitely that.

"Nope. Not happening," Monica hid behind her hands. She sat at her usual spot at the bar. Evan smiled, even though she couldn't see them.

"But it's been weeks!" they said, cleaning a pint glass. "You've got to stop hiding from her eventually. And it’s clear that you like her.”

"She's intimidating."

"She's a drummer," a laugh that exploded out of their chest. "I mean yeah, they get loud. But I wouldn't say she's intimidating."

Monica finally dropped her hands. She didn't notice the light streaming from the ceiling forming a spotlight, someone standing in it. Evan's focus split between this mysterious person and Monica. But they didn't move. They didn't say anything. This was a canon event, and they could do nothing to stop it.

"You don't understand. She's tall and confident. She doesn't let anyone stand in the way of what she wants. She's not a pushover... like me." She mumbled another sentence of incoherence.

Evan put their hand over hers. And also looked up a bit at the person in the spotlight. Sam.

"She's amazing in ways I can't articulate yet. I'm not worthy enough to date her."

The drumstick sat in front of Monica. Sam picked it up and studied it.

"Is... this my drumstick?"

Monica's spine shot up. Sweat formed everywhere and she hated that she wore such a revealing black dress tonight. What was she thinking? She would never be someone who could go out with someone like her, she thought.

After an agonizing moment, Monica remembered how to breath. "Uh... yes. Sorry-"

"Thank you," Sam leaned over the counter. She held the drumstick like a wand. "You know, I think I remember when I lost this. And my temper. Getting dropped from bands is like dating someone sometimes. And I lost my cool that day. Can I buy you a drink?"

Oh my goddess this was it! Monica's heart rate quickened so fast that she got dizzy just sitting there. If she weren't sitting down, she would've fainted. And to ask if she wanted a drink. Ugh!

But Sam's face shifted.

"Sorry, did I offend?"

What?! Of course not. How on earth could this gorgeous woman ever think she was offendsive? Oh right. The thinking. The speaking. It was time to switch.

"No. Yes. I'm sorry. I’ve been stuck in my head a lot lately. A lot has happened. I'd love a drink," she gulped and looked at Sam for the first time since they started talking. And then a smile came across Monica’s face. It was the first time a real, genuine smile happened since the funeral.

Sam exhaled and laughed. "Ok, good. I've been nervous about asking you for a drink for a while now. My brain kept thinking you'd say no." 

She had hair obscuring her face. Monica gently moved it out of the way. Sam’s hair was black and silky smooth.

A... while? She didn't think Sam had noticed her. Monica held the drumstick and passed it to Sam.

"Well, I've had a lot on my mind. Maybe after we drink you could tell me when your next show is?”

"But you don't even know what I play."

"I can't wait to find out."

“It’s a date,” Sam smiled back. She couldn’t help it. All these feelings were coming to a head.

They looked over toward the bar and found that Evan had left two drinks on the counter. They were too busy stumbling over their words to notice anyone else. For Sam they left an orange drink. For Monica they left something red, like a rose. Like her cheeks, she thought.

Sam offered her hand out, palm up. "Sounds like it's a date. Shall we?"

Monica's smile brightened and she took her hand and followed Sam to a booth where they would have more privacy. 

Ally walked out and started talking to Evan about what needed restocking. But they lifted their hand to shush her.

"Wait. Look," they pointed and smiled. "It finally happened."

"Fucking finally," she said loudly and gave Evan a kiss on the cheek, making them blush. “Makes me think about how we met,” she winked and walked back into the office.

Evan watched for more meet cutes to happen. Who needed soaps when you got to experience good endings at your own job?

[acewriter]

Video game idea:

A two-perspective visual novel where you start out as a customer OR the customer service agent.

You are both stuck in the circle of hell known as the Customer Service line, and you both need to help each other get out alive.

Could this be a love story? Maybe. Possibly an enemy-to-lovers story? Also maybe. I don't know. I feel like they would be forced to trust each other like in Slay the Princess. And there would be an element of "getting out of hell" like in Hades.

I'll have to workshop this after the hour and a half of hell I just went through on a former bank's customer service line.

[acewriter]

didnt realize this was an ad at first so i just assumed that was somebody's advice. no1 art tip... hunt monsters...

[acewriter]

imagine if the defunctland guy ever had to testify in court like. the look on the judge's face when the lawyers call up Mr. Perjurer

[acewriter]

what nobody tells you about transition is the totality of it. once you dig into gender and start expressing the way you want, you'll start to find the marks of discomfort littered around the rest of your life. you'll notice how you were never living for yourself, just following the guidelines laid out for you.

as soon as you disengage that autopilot, you're on your own. you have to decide what is actually best for you. you have to question every decision you've ever made because they were all made by someone trying to play by the rules, rules whose application will kill you.

in the year-and-change since starting my transition, I have completely changed everything about my presentation, I changed how I talk, how I carry myself, how I interact with people. I changed the company I keep, I moved cities, I abandoned a career path I had been pursuing my entire life. I lost friends, made new ones, started engaging with types of media I had never been interested in before.

there's a life on the other side of transition, and you have to claw it back piece by piece. I will never stop transitioning into who I'm supposed to be because every time I get closer, I realize there's more I still need to change.

[acewriter]

Content warning: talks of issues with eating, suicidal ideation, and attempted suicide.

Sometimes when I eat, I think back on this one time in high school.

When I was a senior in high school, I had suicidal thoughts. I don't remember what it was about exactly, but I wasn't feeling great at all. Just one of the issues I had was that I had been questioning my sexuality, and I went to a giantly homophobic school. I'd also had issues with my family and didn't feel comfortable talking to any of them for the longest time. I was withdrawn and didn't think I could come back from it.

And I was a manager of the wrestling team at my high school. I had to show that I was in charge of cleaning matts, keeping scores during matches, and just about all the other stuff that the coaches didn't want to do.

Cue another kid in high school. I think he was a sophomore or junior. And he actually went for it. He tried to die by suicide (it was "commit suicide" at that point in time), and ended up in the hospital. And everyone on the wrestling team showed up to give their support.

Except I am chronically early.

I was the first to show up at his bedside. I met the family, most of which they had known me from matches and other get-togethers for the team.

The family greeted me and said I was welcome to have anything they had there. It was a plate of sandwiches. I'm a stress eater, so I guiltily took one.

As soon as I started eating, a few of the wrestlers came in and immediately started making fun of me for eating the family's food. I grew up Episcopal and witnessed a lot of people actually berating me for things that really weren't a big deal. So my brain took that as them doing more than making fun of me.

What crossed my mind was that: I was lonely and had finally met someone who had similar feelings about how life just didn't seem worth it. I wanted to reach out and talk to him at some point, but the wrestlers made me hide that feeling. It taught me to repress that; put it in a box alongside my feelings about sexuality and identity.

I'm still working through these mental boxes. It's difficult, but I have a few people I actually feel like I can talk to now. They are my found family. That and dropping this into the void of the internet seems to help a little, too.

So yeah, I still struggle with it all sometimes. It's not nearly as bad as it was in high school and college. I've slowly learned how to manage. Talking with people I trust the most helps.

I really hate this association with eating, though. That memory just jumps out at me and then I feel terrible for being fat, among other things. But I know that I can check in with folks when this comes up. I just have to start talking more with them about it.

[acewriter]

[acewriter]

I adore A Midsummer Night's Dream. A second one would be Much Ado About Nothing. Really any of the comedies I'd love to see in this fashion.

If you could have one Shakespeare play done by the Muppets what would it be?

obviously a Midsummer Night's Dream, can you imagine? Kermit as Oberon, Miss Piggy as Titania, the non-fae characters are played by the only humans, when Bottom is transformed he physically becomes a muppet, Puck is naturally Gonzo with bonus Rizzo

[acewriter]

[acewriter]

I've been pouring over influences for one of the stories in my book. Just read Dead Until Dark, pouring over how the Buffy the Vampire Slayer first episode is set up, and researching what needs to go into this monster hunting story.

There are some markéd differences from my story and this one in terms of plot structure. One thing being that I have a lil guy with a brother and they both deal with homophobic parents.

But what if I leaned more into the Monster Hunting Family motif?

FIRST KlLL (2022)

E01: First Kiss — directed by Jet Wilkinson