#Sitewrite

[ileosa-sunstorm]

Site Write Finale: Do What You’re Told.

Final Prompt: “Everything we have done or will do we will do over and over and over again— forever.” Consider your character’s leitmotifs. Write a story that expresses the cyclical nature of the leitmotif, and the rise and fall of these themes in your character’s narrative. If it helps you to place the story to music, you may do so, but it is not required.

"You need to do as you're told, dear." Ileosa's mother was smiling but her stance was a stern one, looking down at her daughter. She stood over the child in a messy room, toys strewn about. A small wooden sword at the little girls feet.

"No! I dun' wanna!" the little red head wasn't more than 5 years old. Her cheeks puffed out, arms folded, she would stomp a single foot on the floor to affirm her position on the matter. Clearly there was no budging.

"But.. Didn't you promise to do your chores when it was noon?" The firm demeanor wavered a little, and she looked up at her mother. She was a tall woman, fit and healthy and perhaps someday Ile would be as tall as her even! "Uhm.. A bit. Maybe. But. I dun' like chores." "I know you don't like chores but you promised! And it's always important to keep your promises, and to do what the adults tell you! We're only looking out for you." The little girl pouted, her lip quivered in an attempt to sway her terrible oppressor. Wide blue eyes with an attempt at almost tears. Though even then her feet shuffled in her uncertainty. "But! It was only a little promise. And I could do them laaater?" "Ile no. You agreed to do them now." the pout increased and the fair lady sunstorm sighed, crouching down. "You know promise breakers don't get any dessert after dinner." A look of horror encroached on the small childs face. "THEY DON'T!?" Her mother gave a sagely nod. "I'm afraid not. Dessert is for people who keep promises and do their chores like they're meant to.." There was no hesitation as the little Ileosa waddled over to begin picking up stray toys and tidying up the room. Her mother watched from the doorway, a smile on her face as her husband approached. "Trouble with our lovely daughter?" he kissed her on the cheek and grinned at the flurry of activity within the room. "Mm. Some. But she seems sorted out at least for now. Though I do wish threats weren't necessary. Even mild ones of no dessert" "We have to be tough sometimes. Besides, I'm sure one day she won't need incentives to do what she's asked."

"I'm sure you're right" she sighed a little and leaned into him. "Though I swear she may be the death of me someday."

...

"Remember to always follow orders when given to you by a superior Officer." the Captain walked briskly along the line of trainees. He was a man of broad stature, and quite an intimidating fellow as his gaze fell across the barely minted soldiers they would stand to attention. Heavy plated boots made a audible thud with each step he made. He paused at one particular recruit. Ileosa Sunstorm, daughter to a Lieutenant from a cavalier unit and a Captain in the Farstriders. He knew her father quite well, a good soldier and a reliable friend as well.

She regarded him with no small amount of respect as she realized quite quickly she'd become the subject of scrutiny.

"You there, Sunstorm." he watched her carefully. "Yes sir?" she shifted a little though remained at attention.

"In that last exercise, you were ordered to retreat but stood your ground against the opponents. Why?"

"Sir, it seemed like the bout was winnable and we could have-" "You were to retrieve the 'wounded' and  withdraw to our own lines. One of your fellow soldiers had been tagged and was by your feet." Her ears wilted, though her stance remained strong she nevertheless began to look embarrassed.

"By ignoring your orders you put one of your comrades at risk, had he been truly wounded he could have bled out in response to your engaging the enemy over tactical retreat."

"I.. Yes sir." her confidence was deflated as she recieved this dressing down. "In future if you are given a direct order like that, think of how it will affect those who fight by your side. Officers do not give orders without a good reason. Now. You'll be doing ten laps around the training grounds in full armor so that you remember this lesson. That is an order." "...Yes sir." the warrior slumped slightly before giving him a salute and breaking from the line to begin her laps, her cheeks red with embaressment. The Captain watched her move off before returning to the rest of the recruits. It was a hard lesson but one they all needed to understand. Discipline led to victory. She would no doubt thank him for it in the future.

...

"Obey the commands of our Prince"

The thought was at the forefront of Ileosa's mind. She'd been assigned for the moment to Sunfury Hold with her fellow soldiers. The Aldor and the Scryers had sent many to attempt to penetrate their defenses – so more troops were required in the meantime. At times it felt strange, as they cut down human and sin'dorei alike. These were our brothers and sisters what had led them so astray? Ever since the betrayal of Voren'thal and his followers the world felt somehow... wrong.

Why would anyone leave the Prince's service? He was the leader of their Kingdom. Of all who were above her he was at the very top. He couldn't possibly lead them astray. Without him she and many others would not have learned to wield the Light of Mu'ru as their own – Masters of that power instead of mere servants to it's supposed whims. And they would have all surely starved had he not figured out how to drain the magic from other sources.

Those who stayed loyal to him were even granted access to ever more potent mana gems. Ileosa could not deny just how good it felt to fill those cravings with the intoxicating energies. Without them it was just too hard to think through the haze of need. She was taken care of. They all were. Without all this they'd surely perish in the wastes of Outland and even beyond.

Knowing all this quelled any concerns she had for the present. These people were traitors. They deserved no quarter nor mercy from her or anyone else. Even her mother and father had fallen to the lies and falsehoods that brought them to the Aldor. They had turned from their Prince. But Ileosa knew the path to their salvation was to obey, and trust in her superiors. This was the only truth.

...

To be an obedient servant granted rewards. And I had been nothing if not obedient. Our Prince turned us to a path of power. A path that would see our cravings seen to. More turned away to the waiting arms of the Quel'thalas when they learned the truth. We were to be part of something great, something immeasurably vast in scope and power. The Burning Legion were our Masters. And do those of us that obeyed. Who served diligently and never wavered in our loyalty? We are being granted the gift of ascendancy.

And so it was I came to be in this place. Surrounded by succubi in a chamber of hedonism and delights, my brothers and sisters lay here too. We were here to reap the benefits of conquering the Sunwell. But more than that I was here for my greatest reward. One of the demons here had been drained of her blood, the green ichor now filled a large bowl that rested within my hands.

This is what I deserved. This is the prize for loyalty and obedience and now it is mine. I will be an even greater servant than I was before and The Deceiver will enter the world through the apex of what once gave us all life. More rewards will come. I bring the bowl to my lips and I tip it back - this power will be mine. And I will serve my Master for eternity.

Glory to Kil'jaeden!

[korammstonehoof]

Site Write Finale: Hopes and Reality

Finale: “Everything we have done or will do we will do over and over and over again - forever.” Consider your character’s leitmotifs. Write a story that expresses the cyclical nature of the leitmotif, and the rise and fall of those themes in your character’s narrative. If it helps you to place the story to music, you may do so, but it is not required.

Themes: Innocence, Naivety, Idealism, and protection from the horrors of war

—

Horde forces make headway against Worgen blockades

Koramm scowled at the headline, setting the newspaper down on the table in front of him. Taking a bit of the meat pie set on the plate before him, the tauren looked out on the crowd walking through the streets of the Dawnspire. For these citizens, there was not a care in the world beyond their everyday duties. And that was the goal, was it not? They fought so that no harm would come to the civilians of Azeroth. They protected the world against the dangers brought forth by the Burning Legion, by the Lich King, and by countless other malevolent forces. Why, then, was it that the Horde and Alliance could not see peace with each other?

There had been growing sentiments of possible peace after the combined might of the Horde and Alliance had dethroned the Lich King. The Cataclysm had ruined that, and Thrall’s departure from the office of Warchief had guaranteed it. Garrosh and his war mongering ruined any chance of that. If Vol’Jin had survived, perhaps, since he was willing to work with the Alliance to retake Orgrimmar, but with Windrunner in charge of the Horde, it would never come to pass.

Koramm picked up the newspaper once more and returned to reading, sipping occasionally from a nearby cup of tea and picking at the the slowly cooling meat pie. While the newspaper was mostly focused around the lives of those living near the Dawnspire, as would be expected, it did occasionally provide glimpses into the happenings of Azeroth at large, which made it a worthy thing to read.

“Emberward Stonehoof, you are needed immediately at the infirmary.”

Koramm set the paper down, looking at the elf now standing before him. He was young, his hair askew and his voice ragged, clearly out of breath. “What’s going on?”

The elf did not pause for even a moment, despite the deep breaths between words. “The mission to assist the Nightborne has returned. There are many wounded.”

Koramm stood instantly, kicking the chair back and the table out from above his legs. Giving a brief nod towards the elf, the tauren took off towards the infirmary. If he was getting called in now, the infirmary must have been swamped, the healers on duty overwhelmed by sheer numbers. It would take him a little bit to cross the keep and make it to the infirmary, but it was his duty to assist in whatever way he could.

When the tauren finally opened the doors to the infirmary, his eyes went wide at the sight. The beds were filled with various levels of injuries, from simple broken bones to those currently unconscious and being worked on by doctors. His mind raced back to Northrend, the last time he had seen an infirmary so full. Where there, especially towards the end, many of the patients had been long term, driven mad by the whispers of the Old Gods, here the patients were all new, freshly injured and in need of immediate treatment.

Koramm swiftly moved towards the back of the room, heading for the offices. He needed to get into his robes, he’d grab a pair pair from the stock room as there was no time to make his way home. He needed to start healing. He was supposed to have gone with the party, but he had fallen ill and had to stay behind lest he drag the team down. Now they had returned, and in a far worse state.

“Did you hear? Seems like a number of the higher ranked soldiers were captured by demons.”

Koramm turned and looked at a pair of new recruits chatting with each other in the corner, his ears picking up their words as he walked by. He paused and glared at them. “What the bloody hell are you two doing? If you have time to gossip, you have time to go get more bandages and bring them out to the people doing their fucking jobs. Get to work!”

The elves stared up at him before bolting. Koramm’s mind reeled as he found his way to the stock room and began pulling on the uniform required of the Dawnmenders working in the infirmary. Could it truly have been true, what the recruits had said, that a number of the Sunguard had been captured in the mission that he had missed? It would certainly explain the sheer number of injured currently residing within the infirmary.

Still, in the months that Koramm had been amongst the Sunguard, no such loss had ever taken place. People had surely been injured, some even severely, but there had been no casualties, no members lost from their battles. It had been foolish to think that such a streak of luck could last forever, but Koramm had, and the loss sent him reeling.

“This is exactly why we need to put aside our differences with the Alliance and work together to destroy the Legion.” The thought rushed into Koramm’s head and was just as quickly dismissed. Now was not the time to be lamenting the idiocy of faction leadership. No, the only thing to focus on now was healing those that were in front of him, and once that was done to look ahead to see how he could assist in recovering those that they had lost. Once that was done, he could fantasize about a possible future once again.

Koramm straightened himself and turned, looking back towards the infirmary’s rooms. “Time to get to work.” @sparklepriest

[ethalarian]

Sitewrite 5: Concerning the Dead

C,

It’s been a long time. I don’t know why I’m doing this now of all times but I just feel oddly compelled. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what happened to you, that I wonder why you just vanished into thin air. There is a part of me that wants to hold out hope that you’re still alive out there somewhere, that someday I might have the great fortune to see you again...but the rest of me, the realistic part of me, knows that’s probably not true. You’ve been gone for seven years now.

I still feel responsible.

I know. It’s stupid and I know you’d tell me exactly that and probably in exactly those words, but I can’t help it. I was your Captain. As such, my primary task was to see to your safety and I failed in that in so many ways I can’t even begin to count them. After you left, my life was just one string of failures after another. Friends, partners, lovers- I lost them all left and right until I just couldn’t take it anymore. Would you be disappointed in me for the way it all unfolded, the way I resigned my post and just let things run their course?

Sun above, I think it would kill me.

Things haven’t been all bad, though. I made the decision to come back home not too long ago and joined up with the militia- the Sunguard. I don’t know if you’d remember them or their former Archon, Felthier. I think they had just made their split not long before you-

Nevermind that. I’ve enjoyed my time here. They’re loud, they’re rowdy, they’re undisciplined but beyond that they’re family in a way I never imagined them being. Serving with them has been taking me back to the old days when we first joined the Seventh. I’d do anything for these people. I’ll fight for them. Die for them, if I have to, and not have a regret in the world.

Well. Maybe one. I don’t know if you knew Nuellen. She used to come around the Enclave a lot, spend time with us on the steps when we were on duty. I never would have expected things to go the way they have between us, but I’m glad for it. She’s been a comforting presence in my life and I don’t know where I’d be without her. Actually, I’d probably be dead in Gadgetzan were it not for her. She’s become very, very dear to me in this last year that we’ve been together and I hope that trend continues for a long time.

I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t terrified, though. Every woman I’ve ever gotten close to- it hasn’t ended well. I still have nightmares about you. About Arkaera. About Lillithane. I won’t let that happen to her- I can’t.

Fuck, I’m rambling now aren’t I? I was never good at these kinds of things but.

Really all I wanted to say, all I’ve ever wanted to say, is I’m sorry.

I’m sorry and I miss you.

-E

( @nuellen and @felthier for mentions )

[monster-pirate]

A Mother’s Gifts

Day 2: What is/was your character’s relationship with their parents? How do they express their feelings towards one another – or, if their parents are deceased, do they carry on their legacy in some fashion?

“Mamaaaaaa.”

The small cry came from the boy’s room. Trysten’s strong voice, weak and plaintive as he called out for her over and over. The first time that he had, her ears perked and she set down the dishes in favor of finding her eldest son. On her way from the kitchen she made a mental checklist of where she’d last seen all of her children. Zephenaye was off with her tutor. Today she was supposed to be learning the virtues of preparing all the materials one would need for spellcasting before hand. Bael was in the living room, drawing his endless designs with just his charcoal. Nonsensical, but intricate. Trysten was….Trysten was...Trysten slept in this morning. She hadn’t thought anything of it when it had been earlier in the morning, but now? It was past noon and this wasn’t like him at all. With an extra jump in her step, she hurried to his room and found the sallow faced boy still in bed. A slight sheen of sweat had covered his face and his hair was messy and damp.

With her arms open wide, she scooped him up from the bed and put herself in his spot, cuddling him in her lap.

“My baby boy…” She cooed as she felt his forehead, brows furrowed when she felt the slight warmth of his skin. Only a slight fever, but this being one of the boy’s only sicknesses in his life...well he didn’t know how to take it. Vivvienne gently rocked him and spoke in a soothing tone that channeled her mother’s own voice.

“I’ll go get you some water, a syrup, I’ll even make you a soup, would you like that?”

The freckled boy nodded and murmured a small ‘uh-huh’ in return.

She continued to rock him, humming a song that until she’d had children of her own, she’d nearly forgotten. It wasn’t famous or even well known, but a song from the small hamlet that she’d left for Dalaran.

She thought back to her mother and father and how they would dote upon her. If she was sick it was automatically a day home from the children’s program and a day away from the loom for her mother. They would spend the day together, singing, telling stories and on occasion Caeryndyn would teach her daughter special tricks that she’d picked up over her years at the loom. She’d missed that, the special bond that she had with her mother and father. It was times like these that her heart ached with the old pain of their passing.

As these thoughts brought tears to her eyes, she cuddled Trysten even closer and shifted him back to his bed. This is how she would keep them alive. The love that she bestowed on her own children. Love and her memory was all that she had to remember them by and at least with love she could spread the memory of her parents to her own children.

So, with one last wipe of his brow before she left the room to begin the soup she vowed that she would always love each and every one of her children to the fullest and support them, help them grow just as her parents had sacrificed for her. Pass down their traditions as best she could and hope that through the three of them, her parents would be proud.

[valeriamuteri]

Valeria Muteri, Il Balcone. A site-writing performance, 2018.

[ileosa-sunstorm]

Site Write 17: Oathsworn

17th: Share the last thing your character got genuinely excited about.

After taking the Oath and being made to understand it's importance (as if she needed to be imparted the importance of keeping one's word), Ileosa was dismissed to go about what businesses she would require. Today had been altogether fabulous, the blood knight felt she was lighter than she had been in quite some time Oathsworn! An Emberward!

She was giddy with the excitement of the days events. Finally she was truly apart of something greater than herself again. She would prove to the Sunguard she was a good, loyal soldier. Already her acts of strength had won her that ridiculous contest with Zaren. 'The Boulder'. This was the title and nickname she'd managed to earn pushing an oversized rock across the grass farther than anyone else. It was honestly quite absurd but even so gave Ileosa a sense of pride. She made a small name for herself, and it wasn't easy to get a nickname.

For today at least there were no dark clouds hanging over her head nor as far as she could tell, threatening to dispel her good mood. Emberward Ileosa Sunstorm felt as if she could conquer a kingdom. She'd shove open the doors to the tavern with a huge smile on her face, still in the ceremonial uniform of her sub-unit.

"A round on me!" she exclaimed, and so she spent the rest of her day in revelry and celebration. The start of something grand and new.

[gwynealin]

Wake

27th: Have your character write their own eulogy. "First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for coming to my funeral. Your presence along honors me, and I am sorry I have gone and died on you. In life, I accomplished what I could. I’ve freed countless scourge from their eternal torment, and have given all I could to those in need, even if I barely had anything to my name. I gave the Sunguard everything I had to ensure my comrades would come out alive when we found ourselves in the gaping maw of danger. Do not weep for me; for I am in a better place now. Remember the good times we have had. The cards have told me that my death would be painful and a struggle, but I have managed to find a victory in defeat. For a cause. For a person. For an ideal. Do not worry. I had saw it coming. Though I am uncertain of what may happen to my spirit in death, just know that I will always be there, watching over you all. Remember me every time the sun shines down on the lands, and remember me when the moonlight casts away the dark of night. Eternal is the soul, and so in the end, peace. I hope I had helped you all steer yourselves towards a new tomorrow. Perhaps one day you all will learn from my long, drawn out speeches. Happiness awaits you all. The light wills it. We are eternal, all this pain is an illusion. Yours truly, Aeleara."

[korammstonehoof]

Site Write Day 15 - Tending the Fields

Day 15: Free Write.

Dawnmender Mission: Sunfury Fields

—

Koramm let out a sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow as he sat back on his haunches, taking a few moments break to look back upon the morning’s work. The noon sun was high overhead, the heat bearable, thankfully. He was grateful of the area’s seemingly eternal fair weather, rarely subject to the scorching summers that could strike Mulgore. Even so, a full day under a cloudless sky toiling away in a field would make any creature sweat.

Still, as the tauren looked behind him, nearly half the small section of the field that he had assigned had been planted. Koramm was proud of his work. The rows were neat and evenly spaced, and as far as he could tell, the soil was rich properly fertilized, The elves that regularly tended these fields, he was happy to admit, knew what they were doing. With a quick stretch to relieve the pressure on his back, Koramm returned to work, taking the seeds of wheat from the sack on his side, poking a hole with one of his big fingers in the mounded pathways of dirt, and depositing the seed inside before gently covering it once again and moving a short ways down the line.

It took a few hours, but Koramm completed all the work in the fields that had been assigned to him for the day. With a smile, the tauren dusted himself off, removing as much of the dirt from his clothes as he could, before he made his way away from the fields and towards the nearby town. He was eager to see how the rest of the Dawnmenders had made out on their own duties.

“Hey you, tauren!”

Koramm turned as he heard the elf call out to him. The man stood next to a few others nearby, clearly the regular farmers of the fields from their attire. “Yes? How can I help you?” he said, as he approached the group.

“Oh no, there’s nothing to help with right now,” the elf replied, “just wanted to thank you, was all. We appreciate all the help that the Sunguard has sent to us, and you seemed to know what you were doing out there, maybe even enjoyed yourself a little.”

The tauren chuckled. “You’d be right there. I may be a healer by trade, but I am an herbalist at heart as well. I’ve harvested and tended to plants all my life, I have my own little garden back near the Dawnspire for a few experiments I have going on. I know the general basics, but I’ve never had to work like that at this scale. It’s a bit exhausting.”

“You’re telling us.” The elf smiled. “You get used to it the more you do it, but the first few months of farm work can be a real killer.” He extended his hand towards the tauren. “The name’s Renthor.”

Koramm took the hand and shook it firmly. “Koramm. Your fields really are fantastic. I mean, I know you elves tend to have good weather year round, but I didn’t smell much fertilizer out there. Do you rotate the crops?”

The elf nodded in approval. “Yeah. It’s not as large a harvest as when the fields are all planted with one crop, but it provides a more varied food supply, and keeps the soil self regenerating. There have been harvests where we’ve had to plant all one crop to make up for a particularly bad year, but the crops grown the next season always suffer for it.”

“We do the same back in Mulgore. Rotate the crops between the fields to keep the soil healthy.” Koramm paused, an idea striking him suddenly. He reached into one of the few remaining sacks on his waist and pulled out a small journal.

“Say, I’m having a bit of a problem with some experiments of mine. I was wondering if maybe I could get your input…”

[ethalarian]

Sitewrite 02: Birthdays and Shallow Graves

( Recommended listening )

For the first time in a couple weeks, Shahin found himself awake before dawn. He lay in bed as part of a tangle of limbs, watching the subtle rise and fall of Nuellen’s chest as she slept peacefully beside him. Though he wanted nothing more than to just lay there and listen to the steady rhythm of her breath and feel the rhythmic thump of her heartbeat, he knew he could not. There was far too much to do this day. With a sigh he carefully untangled himself from the dark-haired ranger, who grumbled and whimpered for a brief moment as the source of heat she’d been cozied up to removed itself. Shivers raced up his spine as bare feet met the cool stone floor of the bedroom as he pushed himself onto his feet and out of bed.

There was no time for a shower, at least not this early morning, so he took only a few moments to dress himself and pull on his boots as quietly as he was able. Nuellen tended to be a bit of a heavy sleeper but he didn’t want to run the risk of waking her up. Getting to sleep in was a rare treat for her with Alna’cenia and Kylora being the boundless bundles of energy they were. Thankfully, Kylora had decided to go visit with her new auntie Velianor for a weekend of piano lessons and exploring the old woods and Alna’cenia had taken a trip with her uncle to some of the old parishes down south, likely to study under the clergy and expand her base of knowledge regarding the Light. Such a rare opportunity wasn’t one he wanted her to pass up, so Shahin took another moment to pen a quick note explaining he had business for the day and that he would be home sometime in the evening.

Satisfied that would be enough, the sandy-haired knight quietly slipped from the bedroom and pulled the door closed behind him. He paused a few moments on the other side of the door just to make sure she wasn’t going to wake up and follow him, then breathed a sigh of relief. Satisfied, he then set to the task of making it out the front door without disturbing Nuellen’s menagerie of animals. He carefully crept around and over the many different piles of snoring fur and grumbling scales here and there until, finally, he made it to the front door- but as he reached to pull the door open, he felt a tug at his sleeve. When Shahin turned, he found himself practically eye to eye with the hulking, black furred frame of Nuellen’s most trusted hunting companion, Amarr.

“Go on,” he insisted quietly, gesturing back to the beast’s bed, “go back to sleep, Amarr. I’m just going out for a little while.”

Unconvinced, Amarr stayed exactly where he was. Shahin wagered if the creature could speak it would be scolding him for trying to sneak out. Again, he tried to insist Amarr go back to sleep and, again, Amarr was unmoved. Like it or not, the direwolf seemed to say, I’m coming with you. Recalling an old analogy about an eight hundred pound gorilla and its preferred sleeping arrangements, Shahin decided arguing with a direwolf was probably a futile task and resigned himself to having a very unique companion for the day. Together, the pair left from Nuellen’s apartment and started winding their way through the early morning Silvermoon streets and earning odd looks from those that found themselves out and about. The poor girl who ran the flower stand Shahin had stopped at to make a purchase looked like she was standing in front of a firing squad the whole time they were there.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Shahin had told her with a wide smile, “he’s really harmless. Big baby.” She did not look convinced.

From the flower shop, Amarr and Shahin continued south through the gate and out into the enchanted forest that had made Silvermoon such a mystical place to outsiders. While the wards that controlled the weather had been weakened by the Scourge and the significantly reduced Greenseers to maintain them, there were still enough in place to keep the chill of the morning air to be quite so biting as they would have been otherwise. These winding paths, endless well-traveled, were as familiar to Shahin as the back of his hand. Years ago, when he was a boy, he and his father had walked these routes on a near daily basis on their trips to Silvermoon and the outlying townships to meet and talk with the merchants.

His father was a tall man with a big smile and a bigger laugh that just had a way of putting people at ease in his presence in spite of his intimidating height and frame. Everyone he met was like family and he had been known to go far out of his way to lend a hand when and where he could, even when his own family was struggling to make ends meet. Take care of your community, son, and your community will take care of you. Briefly, Shahin wondered what his father would make of what had become of the country he loved so much. Would he be disappointed? Would he have made similar decisions that Shahin had? Would he be proud of his son for serving as he did, or would he be disappointed?

It had been so long since Shahin had last visited home he wasn’t entirely sure what the answer would be. The more he thought about it, the more he was certain his father’s disappointment would not be nearly as crushing as his mother’s. While not a particularly large woman, his mother was strong of will and stronger of arm. He could remember her practically working laps around him and his brother when they were younger, all the time with a smile on her face and a song on her lips. She always did seem to be happiest when she had something to occupy her hands. Despite this, she was kind and encouraging and always pushed both boys to be the best that they could be. To earn their mother’s approving smile was as elating as anything in the world and could make a man feel ten feet tall. To make her frown, disappointed, could make a man feel smaller than a grain of sand.

As noon neared, the sun hanging high overhead, Amarr and Shahin reached the end of their journey. Far to the south of Quel’thalas, near the mouth of the Thalassian Pass, was his family’s farmstead. Like everything else in the Ghostlands, it was dilapidated, run down, and unnaturally cold. All he could hear were the steady rhythm of his boots crunching in the dirt and Amarr padding along behind him. Usually at this time of day, his mother and father would be around back behind the house feeding the chickens and that’s where he knew he would find them.

“Ann’da, minn’da,” he called out as they rounded the corner of the farmhouse, “I’m home. Sorry I’m late- I brought you flowers.”

There was no reply. As a matter of fact, there had been no reply from either of them in almost twenty years- and there never would be. Just a few feet past the corner of the house, in the middle of what had once been a garden plot, were three small placards laid out abreast in a row. Shahin knelt at the one in the middle and laid the flowers he’d bought- a bouquet of white lilies- down on the ground. Tears stung at his eyes as he sat down in the dirt and hugged his knees to his chest.

“Happy birthday, minn’da,” he said lowly as Amarr chuffed and sat down behind him, giving him something to lean against, “I miss you.” 

( @nuellen @ocarina-of-what for mentions )

[monster-pirate]

The Fine Line

Day 1: Which words, phrases, or concepts do your characters most overuse in conversation, and why? In what context?

In which Vivvienne always, always always seems to need to check in on Scynthe about his fel consumption.

Late night, a scene that she’s encountered many times. The kids are up in their beds, the animals kenneled until morning. Vivvienne, however is up in her room, sitting at her desk and unable to do much but wait. She has letters to write, finances to check and a hundred other things to do to make sure that her home stays in working order, yet all she can do is sit at her desk and watch the door. She’s waiting for Scynthe to come home. Yet one more late night for the both of them. It isn’t the late nights, nor where he goes that concerns her. It’s the power that she knows runs through his veins. Through her veins. Every other day she somehow expects him to come home, wretched and tainted beyond preservation. She expects that of herself someday, sometimes.With every battle, every crystal they’re both riding a fine line between ‘person’ and ‘creature’. How much is too much?

Finally, as he strides through the door, she greets him with a sweeping hug, and a brief kiss. Standing there and wrapped in his arms she stays, swaying as she bathes in the afterglow of his day’s fight. Quietly, she murmurs into his chest.

“Were you careful today?” “Yes, Dearest.”

He swept his hand over her hair, kissing the top of her head. He already knew what she was asking. Was he too hard on himself? Was he wearing himself thin? The fel taint that showed alongside his temples worried her, as it had for some time. “It’s just that I worry…You know that once we cross that fine line it’s hard to come back,” she murmured back while he squeezed her tight.

She had often talked once about how she feared that her use of the more corruptive magic would have prevented her from bearing children. Though once that had clearly not been the case, and once she and Scynthe tied the knot, she worried about the child that they had born together. Surely the taint of the fel-magics was going to affect the child in some way, but how? This conversation seemed to happen over and over, but the results would still be the same. Scynthe would comfort her, Vivvienne would be swept up into his arms. Like Sisyphus and the boulder, they would both climb the uphill battle every day that seemed to toe that fine line between wretchedness and normality.

[interiornotations-blog]

Before and afters, all mixed up. Working with immediacy, with body action + film + photograph give chance to come back at different points in time and “read” the situation in different manners, drawing out different information.

[ileosa-sunstorm]

Site Write 16

Day 16: (Throwback Thursday) Write a fragment of a story that is made up entirely of imperatives (Do this; do that). This exercise will be a sort of second-person narration, as a you is implied in the imperative.

Get out of bed and get dressed. Make sure you do your routine, breakfast, excercise. Don't break the routine. Be ready to face what's coming. Put on your very best smile. Remember to lie. Give up. Ignore it. Remember today you are a paladin. Remember you are a blood knight. Be whoever it is you need to be so they will like you. Stay home. Lay down. Don't go out.

Ignore it.

Be better than it. Step out that door. Remember to lie. Remember they'll know. Don't let it hold you back. Lie with every smile. Lie about your interests. Be as perfect a person as you can be. Like what they like. Hate what they hate. Hate yourself. Remember nobody loves you.

Ignore it.

Remember it does not rule you. Remember it does not make you who you are. Do not give in. Make sure you are happy. Be funny. Be charming. Be lovable. Be a lie.

Think about how today will be over.

Remember tomorrow will be better.