musingsofmala

[musingsofmala]

reblog to take the person you reblogged from to the aquarium

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🐟 o ° .

• ° o 🦑

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[musingsofmala]

A very basic overview of what the hall from Neon Ash Chapter 1 looks like.

[musingsofmala]

"tumblr humor is only funny to tumblr users" NOT true. those bitches on pinterest love us.

[musingsofmala]

writing is hard when your brain goes ‘this sentence is mid’ and you’re like ‘ok? you wrote it???? do better then????'

[musingsofmala]

Chapter 8 - On Edge.

Eventually, Veyra showed the two around the entire compound, including where her room was in case they needed her.

Later that night, the dim light from a small battery lamp cast soft shadows across the room, flickering slightly as if unsure it had enough power to last. The air hung thick with unspoken words, and the quiet hum of distant voices from elsewhere in the compound barely filled the space between Lira and Jesse.

They sat across from each other, each on their own bed, but the distance felt charged—like the static before a storm.

Lira broke first, her voice quiet and tentative, barely a whisper against the heavy stillness.

“How long have you… known?”

Jesse’s eyes flicked to her, a small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She tilted her head slightly, watching Lira with that calm steadiness that always seemed to ground her.

“Well… since you whispered it the other night,” she admitted, voice light but edged with something deeper. “When you thought I was asleep.”

Lira’s brow furrowed, confusion flashing across her face before it hit her all at once—her eyes widening in sudden realization, cheeks flushing bright red.

“When you got shot?” she blurted, a little louder than she intended. “You heard that?”

“I mean,” Jesse shrugged, standing slowly and stretching out her sore muscles, “you think I could sleep through that pain? We didn’t exactly have morphine.” Her voice softened, almost teasing.

Lira instinctively shifted, leaving a space on the bed beside her—whether she meant to or not—and Jesse filled it without hesitation, sliding into that warmth like it had always been meant for her.

Lira’s arms wrapped around her almost before she realized it, pulling Jesse in, cradling her gently, protectively, as if holding her would make up for all the times she couldn’t keep Jesse from getting hurt. She breathed in the faint scent of Jesse’s hair—soft, like springtime in a world that had mostly forgotten what seasons felt like.

“Yeah… I guess that’s true,” Lira murmured, her voice barely above a breath. “But still… you could’ve said something back then.”

Jesse smiled softly against Lira’s skin, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, the tension in her body slowly easing.

“Maybe,” she whispered. “But you looked like you needed to get that off your chest. And I didn’t want to scare you away.”

Lira hesitated, her fingers tracing slow, gentle circles on Jesse’s shoulder, careful to avoid the bandage over the healing wound. Her hand stilled for a moment, and her voice caught in her throat—something else on the tip of her tongue.

Before she could form the words, something flickered across the frosted glass of the room’s window. A small red light—quick, silent, deliberate.

It wasn’t a drone. It wasn’t a flashlight.

Lira tensed, her grip on Jesse tightening as she stared at the pane separating them from whatever had just been out there.

Then, as suddenly as it appeared, the light bounced away. A faint thud followed—so soft it barely registered, but Jesse twitched, her head turning toward the window.

She didn’t register Lira’s tension right away, but curiosity pushed her up. Jesse peeled herself out of Lira’s arms and stepped quietly to the window. She cracked it open just enough to peer outside.

A squirrel darted away across the bricks.

Except… something about it was wrong.

Jesse felt her stomach turn. “That’s not right,” she whispered, eyes narrowing. “That’s not right at all.”

“What is it?” Lira was already sitting up, ready for a fight she couldn’t yet see.

“I’m… not sure.” Jesse’s voice trembled. “It looked like a squirrel. But it didn’t move right. Too stiff. Like something was wearing a squirrel’s skin and trying to pass.”

Lira’s stomach dropped.

Did they find us already? How much trouble are we putting Veyra in by being here?

She swung her legs off the bed and stood, already pulling on her jacket.

Behind her, Jesse shut the window and locked it. Her hand hovered there longer than necessary, knuckles white. “There were… wires. I think. At the base of its skull.”

She hesitated, eyes unfocused as she tried to put it into words.

“They looked like antennae. But not just sticking out—sprouting, almost. Like the pistil of a flower.”

Her voice wavered, like even the image was too much.

“They need to know. We need to tell them,” Lira whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jesse hesitated, lips pursed. “Tell them what? That a squirrel looked weird?”

“No. Tell them why it looked weird,” Lira said firmly. “If that thing’s been here before, they deserve to know. If we brought it, they deserve to know that, too.”

Jesse froze, then finally nodded.

“…Yeah. Okay.”

Lira opened the door with a sharp creak, the night’s chill and heavy rain rushing in to meet them. The noise from the brick paths and cloth awnings outside was deafening compared to the silence inside. Stalls that had bustled just hours before now stood abandoned and soaked.

Jesse reached for Lira’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before leading the way, the two moving quickly through the storm.

Every splash, every shift of shadow made Lira flinch. The tension pressed down on her like a second skin. Eventually, they reached the heavy steel door with Veyra’s nameplate that she had pointed out during the tour.

Lira didn’t hesitate. She slammed her fist against the metal.

It took only seconds before the door cracked open and Veyra appeared, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her long nightshirt damp from the storm clinging to her legs.

“What’s wrong, dears? You look like you’ve seen a—”

Both Jesse and Lira started talking at once.

Their words overlapped—panicked, sharp, tripping over each other. Something about a light. Something about the window. A squirrel. Wires.

Veyra blinked, halfway to shutting the door again—until she saw Jesse’s face.

Then Lira’s.

They weren’t just scared. They were terrified.

“…Come in,” she said, stepping back. “If this is real, it’s not something we want echoing off the bricks.”

The girls rushed inside and slammed the door behind them. Lira opened her mouth, but stopped and nodded at Jesse. You speak.

“We were laying down,” Jesse said, voice trembling. “Lira saw a red light pass the window. I went to check—thought it was maybe a reflection, or some kid’s drone…”

She swallowed.

“But it was a squirrel. Only, it wasn’t. It moved too smooth. Too rigid. Like it had gears. And at the base of its skull… I saw something growing out.”

She pointed to the back of her neck, mimicking the spot.

“They looked like antennae, but delicate. Twisted metal. Almost organic. Like the pistil of a flower growing straight out of its spine.”

The room fell quiet.

Veyra began to pace, jaw tight. “Those things aren’t common. I’ve only seen one—maybe two—used near the perimeter. Omnigen’s had small-scale surveillance before, but if one showed up here…”

She trailed off, muttering under her breath.

Lira stepped forward. “So you do know what it is?”

“I know enough to say you didn’t imagine it,” Veyra said, voice low. “Those little bastards are scouts. Omnigen sends them out to watch targets—places, people. Sometimes both.”

“They’re watching us,” Jesse said, numb.

“Or they’re watching who you’re talking to,” Veyra said, glancing sharply at her. “Those things don’t just see. They learn. You show up here and now there’s one in our courtyard? It’s not a coincidence.”

Lira looked sick. “We brought it here.”

“You didn’t mean to,” Veyra said quietly. “But someone thinks you know something important. Important enough to send tech that doesn’t show up unless you’re already on their radar.”

She exhaled slowly. “We’ll have to move. You, Maive, maybe even me.”

Jesse’s voice was small. “Why?”

Veyra turned to her, eyes colder than they’d been all night.

“Because if they stop watching… it means they’ve already decided what to do with you.”

Jesse felt minuscule in that moment, as if the fragile world they’d spent months building had crumbled in a single blink.

She murmured something too soft for Veyra to catch. Then, a little louder: “My mother… the graffiti... Do you think they found us because of that night?”

Her hand drifted to her shoulder, the dull ache of the healing wound pulsing in time with the memory. That was the night it all began—the moment they stopped surviving and started fighting back.

Without hesitation, Lira reached over and took Jesse’s hand, squeezing it firmly.

“Whatever brought them to us—whatever happens next—we’ll face it together.” Her eyes met Veyra’s then, steady and unwavering. “Whether we’re part of your crew or not.”

Veyra smiled gently, a quiet laugh escaping her lips as she shook her head.

“I told you already,” she said, voice warm with something just shy of pride. “We’re a family now. And family doesn’t toss someone aside just because things get dangerous.”

[musingsofmala]

Reblog and you’re guaranteed to be successful at whatever you do next!

[musingsofmala]

Happy STS! Are there any snippets of writing or fun facts about your writing that you'd like to share?

Oh boy do I ever have a little snippet for what I'm writing right now to share with everyone!

Jesse peeled herself out of the comfort of Lira’s arms and stood up, cracking open the window and watching as a squirrel pranced away. There was something about the way the squirrel moved that seemed…unnatural, making Jesse shiver and begin to feel nauseous.

[musingsofmala]

While I can't write as much as I'd love to right now, I'm thinking of potentially starting some games as Lira and either posting about her antics here or streaming them.

Would y'all be interested in seeing that?

[musingsofmala]

Oraka's description

Face

Her eyes are like an endless void, even her sclera are consumed by darkness. The skin across her body is covered in scars of various sizes from wounds that healing magic could never fix. Her lips were thin and malnourished, but they were always smiling peacefully as if nothing had gone wrong in her life. Her hair is a deep brown with a streak of gray in her bangs.

Body

Her build is lean, meant for speed more than raw power. Her muscles are always coiled, always ready to pounce on anything that deemed itself a threat to her safety.

Clothing and equipment

Her clothing is practical and allows for easy movement, more out of necessity than a specific style. She doesn’t carry any weapons with her. She tries to be as peaceful as possible.

Personality

She’s a resilient woman, not deterred by anything. The kind of stubborn that bends but almost never breaks. Very quiet but stands out in every classroom she enters.

She’s always got her guard up, but she never tries to be cruel. She hardly trusts, not after everything she has been through at least.

All she really wants is to feel as if she belongs. She doesn’t need anything else in this world, she just wants anyone to accept her as she is.

Her lips move subtly when she’s focused, as if she’s whispering words or counting silently, but no sound emerges. It’s not quite mouthing words - it’s like she’s echoing something deeper.

[musingsofmala]

Pinned Posts

Neon Ash Master Post

Character Descriptions

Oraka Brightmere

Oraka's story

(Coming Soon)

[musingsofmala]

REBLOG IF YOUR BLOG IS A SAFE SPACE FOR AROMANTIC PEOPLE AND IF YOU THINK THEY ARE VALID

I want to see how many people actually are willing to say this and not just act like it

[musingsofmala]

Oraka moved out of the way of anything thrown at her in the blink of an eye. Sometimes she'd purposefully let them get within a millimeter of her before she snatched the hope away.

This time was different. She knew that the second this woman's fist made impact would be her last breath.

Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she felt time slow around her, mind growing clearer by the moment as she fell into a trance like state, moving instinctually rather than by calculation like she always had before.

She began bouncing on the balls of her feet in between every dodge, another fist flying toward her within milliseconds.

There was an emotion welling up in her chest she hadn't felt in ages.

Was it brought upon by the woman she was fighting? Or perhaps it's from the thrill of knowing how close she is to death with every swing of her opponent's fist.

Whatever it was, she couldn't get enough of it. Not since she was feeling more alive than she ever had, even in this realm where monsters and mages could sling whatever they like at most normal people.

Then, out of nowhere, she fell completely into the trance and not even a trace of the emotion she felt remained, her body seemingly blurring out of existence every time she moved.

This only served to enrage her opponent more. The woman growled louder with every attempted killing blow, her body aching with exertion as she exhausted herself. Suddenly, there was a flicker of motion and a searing pain in both her chest and back.

Before Oraka even realized what happened, she had placed a blurry kick straight into the woman's sternum, sending the larger woman flying into the cave wall.

The woman looked up from the floor she suddenly found herself seated on and saw in Oraka's eyes the cosmos itself, the woman's movements seemingly in rhythm with the entire universe all at once.

The sound of bone crunching and a heavy thud was enough for her to leave the trance and see the curled up form of the most formidable adversary she had fought in years cowering in what seemed like fear.

(Ironically I already had a character lined up for this type of thing. May write more about her in the future.)

Cursed at birth to reject all healing magic, you were never given the luxury of injury and no party accepted you to join. So you trained harder, fought smarter, dodged everything. You couldn’t afford a single mistake. Now, they whisper your name in awe and fear—the Untouchable.

[musingsofmala]

Potentially resuming writing

I'm gonna set much smaller goals for myself, instead of writing 2000 words a day as a goal like I had before it's gonna be closer to 500 words a day both to avoid burnout and also so I can realistically accomplish it.

Having to share the PC makes writing 2000 words a bit more difficult, but I still want to continue working on Neon Ash, so chapters may come out slower until I can afford to get myself a new laptop, but they will be coming still and that's the important part!

[musingsofmala]

Lira never knew her father very well, he was always the kind of failed activist who tried too hard to make his actions mean something no matter what.

He'd never shown up to her plays, recitals, parent teacher meetings, you name it and he didn't show up for it because he was off trying to change the world or something.

She never really knew what he meant by that, nor did she ever care. All she grew up knowing was to not trust a person who wore their activism on their sleeve...or messenger bag.

Regardless of all of this, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she was missing about her father.

Write the memory of something that happened in your character's childhood that they are still trying to understand. Because it happened when they were a child, their memory will only have impressions that a child would have.

[musingsofmala]

He laughed, the sound barely concealing a sob forming in his throat. "You don't realize how much worse I've done for a chance to be here next to you right now."

"What do you mean?" Her eyes widened as she listened, curious what this man could have done to be saying this.

His laughter grew manic, his eyes going blank as he thought back to all the countless things he had done, the countless families he had disrupted in numerous different ways.

"Maybe...maybe I'm not right for you in the end...all the people I've hurt just to get here...I'm no man, I'm a monster..." His voice shook, tears threatening to slip free from the corners of his eyes.

He collapsed to his knees, finally allowing tears to flow down his cheeks as he shuddered, his mind finally shattering as he looked down at the ground.

She stood for a moment, unsure how to react as this version of a man she had known long ago–who passed away nearly a decade ago–was unraveling in front of her.

She felt tears streaming down her cheeks now, and she leaned down, tentatively placing her hand on the man's shoulder.

"I...don't know what you've done, or what you're willing to do, but..." her words flowed as smoothly as water–as if she had practiced them for years, "I think...I'm willing to give you a chance to prove that you're not a monster. That you're still you, behind all those scars and wounds, both mental and physical."

He couldn't believe what he had just heard, frozen in place by the hand on his shoulder. "Y...You'd do that..? For me? For someone who has gone through and hurt so many people...just to get to you?"

She nodded, kneeling down to his level and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“Okay, just so we’re clear, a version of me died in your world, and now you want to take me to yours to be a replacement? “That’s right.” “….Don’t you see how messed up that is??”

[musingsofmala]

She slammed her grimoire shut, sighing as she heard the laughter of the adventurers surrounding her.

"Do I need to show the strength of my slimes for you all to leave me alone..?" She asked, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

One adventurer spoke up, a man who was much taller and stronger than her physically, his voice booming through the hall, "And how do you plan on doing that? You gonna-" His voice was cut off by a slime suddenly appearing on his head, a muffled cry barely coming off of it.

The woman glared at him and felt a small smirk creep up on her lips. "I hope that is all you need from me as far as proof goes. Be glad I gave him a slime infused with a water breathing potion."

She snapped her fingers, the slime disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.

The man was shaken, his knees nearly giving out as his voice fluttered from his throat, "H-How did you do that..? How can you be so fast?!"

She could see the panic in his eyes and his body quivering like a leaf. She shrugged and turned away, her cloak twirling as she walked briskly away, calling back at the man. "You should really put more than just your muscles to the test, young man."

You’re a summoner—but all you can summon are slimes. No dragons, no elementals. Just slimes. So you studied. Trained. Experimented. Now your slimes dissolve armor, mimic voices, carry potions, even explode on command. Adventurers laugh—until they realize: you can handle anything with slimes.

[musingsofmala]

Me with Lira and Jesse, they're going to have a good time for a while first though!

i so badly want to torture some characters rn