#maydwc2024

[daily-writing-challenge]

DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2024 IS BACK!

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!

Choose one or both words/IDEAS and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!

Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.

Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.

LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)

Tags that will be used: #maydwc2024,  #maydayX2024 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl

There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!

The next writing challenge will be in AUGUST 2024 and last one week!

CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!

Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN! Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!

We look forward to reading some amazing writing!

((Written word list below the cut))

Day 1 - May 19 Mysterious, Appearance

Day 2 - May 20 Agony, Embrace Day 3 - May 21 Shame, Favorite

Day 4 - May 22 Drama, Celebration Day 5 - May 23 Complication, Spicy Day 6 - May 24 Empty, Confidence Day 7 - May 25 Void, Captivate

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 1 for May DWC 2024 Mysterious - Appearance

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

'It's for the show, I'd do anything for the show.' He thought to himself internally for the thirtieth time tonight. 'Elune please, I beg of you please make my nose stop itching.' Mind over matter Kon... you are tougher than this. You can get through this. "Bare with us a little longer Kon, how are you holding up in there?" A familiar voice said though his eyes were still closed. "I'm managing, but my arms are getting heavy." "Do you need us to get you some broom handles to hold onto?" The question brought a sense of hope. "NO! No we can't his palms haven't finished curing yet." A different yet also familiar voice exclaimed. And like that, his hope was gone in an instant and the weight of his arms grew even heavier. "I will be alright everyone, worry not." Kon said sounding calm and confident even if he was internally dying. Who'd have ever thought that being mostly naked with only a tight thong on his body would make him hotter than hell itself. Or course, he was also covered literally head to toe in high performance platinum silicone rubber specifically designed for creating silicone makeup and fake skin effects. Did the audience truly know how to appreciate the artwork that went into such special FX? Did they know how many hours one had to stand perfectly still while layer after layer was applied. Hours spent sculpting each wound, each scale on his body and each scar. The science behind creating certain spray molds and smooth casting. All the chemicals used and mixed perfectly and time spent letting them cure in their molds to later be applied to his body. All the talcum powder applied and the adhesive applied painstakingly to every inch of his body. Being forced to resist the urge to twitch when it tickled, to scratch when it itched, to move at all and risk an imperfection of something falling off or not sticking when it wasn't dry yet. Light forbid if you have to take a leak during all this, a bathroom break was NOT an option when this heavy of effects were applied. One had to risk dehydration from the moment they woke as they could not risk having a full bladder till the show was over. And even as the last of the prosthetics were finally applied, then come the hours of makeup to get the color and tone just right to make it more believable. So much so the audience would genuinely feel it was real as they quite literally could reach out and touch it. It was all for the visuals and the more real it looked, the more real it became. This was nothing Kon told himself, trying for a moment to just imagine what it would be like to become an Illidari in reality. To embrace the fel magics and your literal inner demon as your body is twisted and torn into something grotesque for the power and ability to fight fire with fire in the most literal of sense. What he was going through now paled in comparison to the real deal. But tell that to the literal STING in cheek DEMANDING to be itched. To the ache in his arms as they felt like 50 pound weights. To the crick in his back for standing still for so long without moving. To the throb in his feet as every muscle scream to move. To the... "TALTHORN!" Konietzko suddenly yelled, head jerking up from the backstage table it had been resting on. A few cotton balls stuck to his skin from the heat he'd generated in his short respite he'd unintentionally taken to get a little shut eye in the dressing room backstage before the big show tonight. His eyes wide with alert and darting around confused as he was ripped from his slumber so suddenly. "Sorry Kal'dalah, I didn't mean to wake you." The magi replied not too far behind him mid wince as he picked up the brush he'd just accidentally dropped from his own hand. "Damn thing got tangled in my hair." he whimpered trying to fix the tiniest of knots in his long well kept silver locks.

Still somewhat confused in his sudden wakefulness, Konietzko staggered out of his chair and went to Talthorn taking his hands a little desperately as he looked him in the eyes being rather dramatic. This was nothing new to his husband of course so he just laughed as he held Kon in return. "Pleeeaaaseee tell me you're going to use your magic to apply my Illidari makeup for Inner Beast's set tomorrow." Kon whined making Talthorn quip a brow. "Of course, do you doubt my talents love?" "NEVER!" Kon exclaimed as he breathed a breath of relief so big it was as if he'd been holding it all this time. "Thank Elune I married a magi." Talthorn laughed as he reached up to remove those cotton balls on his cheek. "You didn't marry me just because of my magic did you?" "Of course not Kal'dalah. Only -mostly- for your magic." Kon teased at him as he leaned in to kiss his husband holding him tight in a warm embrace with a deep smile curved along his lips. "GET A ROOM!" A shout cried followed by many giggles from the nearby doorway. A quick look and both saw a few of their fellow stars standing there watching them. "Why when being watched is soooo much better." Kon purred in his deep voice as he slid a finger down Talthorn's thigh then hooked his leg and raised it up around Kon's own thigh. Talthorn played along, pressing his body against his husband as he hit the onlookers with a look only this silver fox could pull off and that made many jealous of Kon's marriage to him in all honesty. The doorway filled with smug grins, laughter, a few yelps and even the sound of a few feet running away suddenly down the hallway of the backstage area. It filled the elves both with laughter of their own as they looked to one another once more. "Guess we'll just have to save it for the Talicious show." Kon teased as their leftover audience groaned their displeasure. What happened backstage at HoT Fest stayed at HoT Fest... or usually wound up on their stage in some form. Either way, noone ever complained.

@daily-writing-challenge @talthorn-sylvoran

[fio-renze]

May 19 - Day 1 Mysterious / Appearance

<<Archmage Drenden���s back on the Council of Six.>>

Fiorenze furrowed her brow at the text from Keranna that popped up on her little communicator with a standard chime. They didn’t talk much anymore; the falling out between the two of them over how the older elf, in her role as governess, had conspired with her mother to suppress her abilities with nature magic in favor of focusing only on her abilities with arcane to keep the family from shame, had grown into a grand rift. 

She’d been hoping for another elf, if she had to be honest. It would’ve been a fair show toward a greater neutrality that the city had lacked for a long while, but part of her had fully anticipated the disappointment of another human being inducted into the post Kalecgos had vacated. Drenden, of all people, made her brow furrow heavily — and that was entirely why Keranna considered it an important enough piece of news to pass along. 

He’d been considered dead for over twenty years, lost in the siege that had crushed the city at the end of the Third War. There had been no word of him in the aftermath or decades since. It wasn’t a long time for her people, but for a human? 

How strange that the Archmage had mysteriously and miraculously reappeared, just in time to slot perfectly into his old council seat. 

Between her strange dreams and this, the boundaries of the floating, violet city were starting to feel a little stifling. She didn’t consider herself to be a conspiracy theorist, but something in her gut was starting to wave a little flag of concern. 

She shot back a quick <<Thank you.>> before scrolling down to the last conversation she’d had with Pyraelia, the only member of the family that was a card carrying member of the Kirin Tor. <<Drenden?>> 

The reply was almost immediate, <<Yes. It’s weird. I’m not the only one that thinks so. Come over for tea soon?>>

Fiorenze frowned and bit the inside of her cheek, still frustrated at her little sister over purely personal matters that hadn’t required her brand of meddling. Still, this was starting to put some spats into perspective. Perhaps it was time to shelve the grievance for a moment, if only to make sure they had some kind of plan in place in case things started to get weird again. 

This was Azeroth, after all, and the only thing one could count on is that things would get weird again. 

[jacelandon]

Performed at HoT Fest 5/18/2024 Also this doubles as Day 1 for May DWC 2024 Mysterious - Appearance

The half-elven man steps onto the stage with violin in hand, flashing a handsome smile towards the audience. While he may be new to this particular stage, it is obvious he’s already more than familiar with being in front of a crowd as a hand flourishes off to the side when he bows. He’s dressed simply for the occasion: Worn boots, distressed pants, a white shirt whose v-neck sits low enough to display the Darkmoon Faire crest tattooed on his chest, and a variety of mismatched necklaces, bracelets, and rings. 

With a wave of his hand, fingers briefly glow a dark indigo as a grand piano materializes out of thin air behind him. Sitting at the piano is, strangely enough, himself, or a copy of himself at the very least. The twin Jaces smile and nod at each other before the real Jace fits the violin to his chin in preparation. For those more musically inclined with a strong penchant towards string instruments, they may recognize this particular violin to have been made by the famous Kaldorei luthier, Del’gesu: A rare and incredibly valuable piece of history and it’s easy to hear why once he begins playing.

The pianist begins keying a soft, somewhat haunting melody as Jace raises his bow, poised and at the ready. There’s an inaudible inhale before the rosined horsehair glides across the strings, producing a beautifully rich vibrato; the sound nearly visible as it winds around the player and carries out among those gathered in a breath of wind.

The music swells and subsides at his tender beckon, displaying the mastery he maintains within the difficult technique traversed with ease. The violin seems to nearly cry out in melancholic yearning with every sustained note and gentle crescendo. The piece is meant to provoke emotion of some variety, and given the creased brow and tightly shut eyes of the performer, it’s simple to recognize an artist truly in touch with his craft.

Upon reaching a lower range of still meticulously bowed notes, eyes flick open to reveal that which were once a faintly glowing deep blue are now intense, swirling tempests of blues, purples, and streaks of crackling silver, reminiscent of a lightning storm at sea.

A congenial expression settles across his sharp features as that churning gaze seeks out individual contact within the audience, while the beguiling melody aids in this enchantment. The flow of expertly fingered notes delicately drifts throughout the atmosphere; an earworm that wriggles its way into the deep recesses of the mind for those more open and willing, and especially those most prone to empathetic urges.

Jace‘s own movements ebb and flow with the raw passion of the violin’s lament, almost as if it is his very own soul crying out for something not quite within reach. His fingers move with purpose and precision along the maple fingerboard as the double stops and glissandos permeate the performance space, and never once does he break a sweat despite the punishing accuracy required. His instrument exquisitely sings out the high notes without restraint, ensorcelling those most affected by the radiance of the song and the persuasive nature of his turbulent gaze.

The hypnotic combination of the ethereal sound and his tempestuous stare may begin to sway those most susceptible into some sort of waking trance. Ever present, yet feeling, remembering, daydreaming in snippets of memories this particular song may invoke within themselves. A sense of longing for something or someone lost, or perhaps something they never possessed in the first place.

For those only with the keenest of gazes, Jace’s shadow begins to stretch and widen, and there are instances where it almost appears as if this elongated shadow falls out of sync with his physical form for the briefest of moments. A gust of wind begins to whip around the violinist, stirring any fallen leaves, grass clippings, and loose dirt into a small flurry as his bow firmly kisses the strings in a series of impressive runs leading towards climactic grandeur.

The peak of the performance crests with soaring waves of pristine notes and resounding vibrato that reverberates throughout the entire area, sending chills down the spines of those most afflicted. It may even elicit a strong, physical reaction in some as sorrowful or wistful personal recollections of times past almost seem to appear before their very eyes. A subconscious suggestion brought about by mere illusions of their own psyche, a trick of the mind, erased from existence should these fabricated reflections be touched.

A glint of setting sunlight catches the evil eye charm resting in the hollow of Jace’s throat as he gently arches backwards to emphasize the masterfully executed glissando into an even higher octave, still maintaining the heightened fervor. The strikes of lightning within that captivating gaze become more mesmerizing and nigh impossible to look away from, which in turn only enhances the peculiar influence he and his instrument seem to possess. 

The cry of strings deepens but never once loses its determination. It’s at this point that his shadow seems to have elongated beyond the realm of possibility, nearly engulfing the entirety of the audience. There’s a chill present not previously felt as even Jace seems to find himself consumed by the inexplicable darkness. Yet, those rippling pools of undulating sea and storm seem to glow brilliantly as they continue to watch those gathered. There’s a strange comfort offered in that unblinking stare as he gradually decrescendos into a more somber and languid melody.

There’s still an alluring caress of a whisper contained within the tone; more seductive yet somehow heart wrenching at the same time. A juxtaposition of emotions overwhelms: A sense of dread with the pure wonder of what will occur next. The other Jace on the piano now appears to be nothing but a shadowy apparition, continuing to brush the keys in perfect rhythm. Wispy tendrils of darkness expand and waver against all they touch, appearing like branches from a massive tree that isn’t where the shadow suggests. Yet, it’s all just an illusion, isn’t it? 

He gracefully trills the instrument with ease, the beauty of the dulcet sounds weaving through the crowd on a crisp breeze. The squalls captured within his gaze seem to now settle back into tranquility as the looming shadow diminishes in size. The emotions relent and relinquish their grip upon those affected, but very much so leaving a mark in their wake whether it be fatigued hearts or pensive moods.

Jace closes his eyes for the first time since the beginning of the piece, the familiar crease settling once more upon his brow. At this point the shadow has completely vanished and the setting sun brilliantly illuminates the man, granting him an almost divine glow. The concluding notes ascend upwards in a smooth legato, culminating in the most exquisite high note as he seems to finally exhale for the first time tonight - an oddly icy breath. The violin lowers, the spell broken, and he takes his final bow.

@daily-writing-challenge

[kharrisdawndancer]

DWC May 2024 - Day 1 - Khaeris

Day 1 - Mysterious, Appearance

Khaeris studied Pollux’s face over the top of her teacup. She did not need to be covert, he was busy in his head, thinking mysterious secret scout-spy-sniper kinds of thoughts. Her lips quirked up, taking in the way his brows twitched toward each other, putting some problem through its paces. He had been a little more apt to get daydreamy since his abrupt work jaunt a few weeks ago. 

No, daydreaming was what she did. Pollux ruminated. He chewed on problems and spun them around for inspection from every angle. Khaeris tended to float through her thoughts--and if they were that bad, she tended to push them away and ignore them.

Just as she was doing now.

It wasn’t mysterious, and though it hadn’t been voiced outloud, they both knew he’d be leaving soon for work. Not the prosthetics kind. That Scout-Spy-Sniper whatever it was that he did kind. She wouldn’t think about it now, it didn’t do any good to brood. Right now he was still in the same room and he’d even said he’d take her out to the Ana’diel art gallery showing later this week. She was looking forward to it. She’d see Pyraelia and maybe the three of them could interpret the art together; Pyraelia was the most practiced at it, and she’d understand it better than Khaeris. Though the enigmatic artist seemed to keep her subject matter fixed to a pointed statement on death. She knew Aerden had made an appearance and posed for the artist in the past, but Khaeris hoped Vixannya never painted anything Pollux would be recognizable in.

With a soft plop! onto the sofa next to Pollux, Khaeris leaned over and kissed his arm. He turned and smiled at her, dragged away from wherever he’d been, and back to the moment with her.

“So I’ll be getting a fancy dress for his party. … But what are you wearing?” Her eyes swept over him appreciatively and emphasized his part in the picture in her mind.

@daily-writing-challenge

@polluxhale @pyraelia @vixannya mini-mention @aerdendios

[siennablaze219]

@Daily-Writing-Challenge - May 2024 - Day 2 - Embrace (oh look I posted two days in a row, go me)

(Fair warning, really long)

(Written as an ongoing growth arc with my warlock, Deiala Vyneaniux. Some might not make sense completely not knowing her background, but overall enough to understand)

Dei stopped in at her book shop to get books she thought would be good for reading to Eli, certainly something more interesting than the Elven ship craft of pre-war Feralas. The book was what Dei had in her bag when she got the news about her friend being injured and what she had been reading to her since. It likely was part of the reason Eli was sleeping so much.

Picking a couple titles off the shelves, she turned when the bell on the door chimed. An Illidari ducked under the doorframe and turned immediately to face Dei with a smile. He was a large man, easily over eight and a half feet with shoulders wider than her door frame and was the reason Dhes and Ewan’s size did not phase her much, the man was also drop dead gorgeous.

The shop owner did not *entirely* lose her composure but she cleared the distance to him in a few strides, he bent to hug her and lifted her off the ground to the surprise of Dei’s slack jawed assistant. “You *look* good,” he said with a shit eating grin on his face

“You always say that,” she replied tartly, “and we both know it is not true.”

“Au contraire, pretty lady, I mean it every time I say it, and I do not need standard sight to see the truth of you. If I were ten thousand years younger, and didn’t have a demon living in my body I would sweep you away. Wait…. How do you feel about older men?” The Illidari still had her held off the ground, “I guess the second point still stands hmmm?”

Dei remained with her arms around his neck, no reason to let go, not like he was going to just drop her because she was too heavy, “What are you doing in town? I thought you were off hunting down some random group of fel beasties in the middle of nowhere.”

He snarled and it would have been frightening for most, but Dei just laughed, “Treat my job like a joke will you? I should put you over my knee…” He smirked, “Or take you and dump you in the pond behind your house.”

“When did I disparage your job Kyeanadril? You did very important work rounding up those five little imps last time.” Dei said with mock seriousness.

“That’s it woman,” he tossed Dei over his shoulder. “You there,” he pointed at Dei’s assistant, “watch the store while Vyeaniux goes swimming.”

“Don’t you dare! I will tell your demon the secrets I know!” It was a true mock threat, the demon knew everything he did anyway. “Kyean! Kyean!” She said his name with no little horror in her tone, before he ducked through the door and leapt up into the air.

He did not angle them towards her house though, he took her up past the waterfall on the north side of the city before he landed and set her on her feet.”Sorry about that, we need to talk. You do look good though, your energies seem very mixed but it feels as though you have more life to you.”

Dei walked over to a rock and sat on it, this had been ‘their’ place to talk after Brendan’s death. Whenever the Kaldorei was in town he came by and they would talk demons for hours. There was nothing inappropriate and he didn’t even come by enough for her to consider him a good friend, often they just exchanged information and he would head out. “It has been an interesting eight months or so… what was so important we couldn’t talk at the store?”

“You know we can’t talk about *things* there, this is no different. I have been in the city for a few days but you were out of the store when I walked by, where have you been?” He asked her bluntly.

“A friend got hurt, I have been sitting with her at the clinic for that group I told you I joined?” There was a hint of a whirlwind of her emotions that spun there, fear, anger, frustration, pain, worry, caring and sadness, “Her boyfriend and I have been taking visits in shifts, though he is there a lot more than I am, as is proper.”

A rumbled ‘hmmm’ came from deep in his chest. “You need to take care.”

With a tip of her head she reached out to him with a little magic, kind of a ‘does your demon have control’ check that he always allowed her, her lack of trust in demons was clear to any that spoke to her about them. She saw nothing to worry about in him though so she went ahead and asked, “Take care? Why?”

“Since I have been in the city and passing by your shop, I have sensed demonic energy along the street there, more than there should be,” the Illidari said.

“They let Man’ari into the city, there is more demon dust everywhere, I almost can’t walk outside without sneezing like a bad allergy.” Dei excused his overreaction.

He frowned at her, “Do not make me truly put you over my knee.”

Her time with Rurik, and the opening of her memories with Kharon, had her offering up a sexy answer before she could rein it back in, “What if I like it?” She had no clue if she truly did or not, but Kharon’s image of her in her mind certainly did.

Bright green flared from behind his glasses, so did his nostrils, “What did you say?”

“You heard me,” her voice was not nearly as self-assured when she said that. Dei had never seen this intensity from him.

“Do not tell a man that unless you really want to find out, Deiala. What kind of business is this anyway that teaches you such things? You said they were a shipping and acquisitions company, which I took to mean piracy and theft.”

The bookstore owner looked at him quizzically, “Find out.. but you…” she didn’t push her luck. “That is what they are, just sometimes they play these games, and there was this man I liked.” Kyean did not know about Kharon’s invasion of her dreams when she was seventeen, if anyone knew how to go through a demonic gateway and find someone it would be him and she wasn’t sure she wanted that kind of resolution for the man Dei had defended herself from.

“Ah, finally a boyfriend, but you said was, and there was a sad tone plus your energy drained from you completely.”

She couldn’t lie to him when he asked her something directly and never did. He was too good at what he just did, “Was, he possibly was a spy, not sure the more time passes that I believe that, but the company does and I think that had I pushed against them too hard they would have stopped trusting me.” Another thing to gloss over, along with her nightmares and the dragon issues.

The huge man looked at her, really *looked* with his spectral sight, “Anyone that doesn’t trust you is a fool. You are so smart and you hold to your oaths like a rock face holds an ore deposit. How is Saxori?”

He was the only one that knew about the Man’ari her mentor had locked in a way long ago, and that was because Brendan had trusted him, not Dei, Dei trusted no one with that secret. Kyean had been a frequent visitor in her youth and many conversations were had between him and the demon. In fact, Kyean helped build the cage she lived in, “She is good, still a little too familiar, but she has been teaching me to dance.”

“Why do you need to le… never mind, we are off track, you always do that, I start with something uncomfortable and you let it chase its own tail until I have lost track of what I was asking. No warren tunnels for you little bunny.” He took her chin in his hand, “Do you really like spankings?” His tone was deep, sonorous and dropped into a growl at the end.

“I don’t know…” she frowned at him for talking about her sex life, “now who is changing the subject? What about this demonic presence?”

He leaned in and sniffed her, “Ah but the idea intrigues.” A surprised look crossed his face then he cleared his throat from the dry tone it had taken. “I have felt it since I came to the city but more near your shop. Have you been letting demons in?”

Dei snapped her answer harshly, “No!”

“Alright… alright… I didn’t think you changed that much but had to check. Yes, there are demons everywhere now, not just in the Lamb and the district around it, but near your street it is heavier, and it lingers. Any demons about recently, maybe some that tested your wards?” The question was reasonable so she could not get grumpy at his big brother protectiveness.

Thinking about his question for more than a moment, “Nothing I can think of.” Yet as she said it she realized it wasn’t entirely true.

He continued to stare at her, usually it was a friendly look but there was new, tighter, focus on her and she wasn’t sure what it was, must be the worry about the demonic traces. “There is a woman in the company, she has a ‘friend’ who is a Man’ari and has been doing deals with people I work with.”

“Do they not know how dangerous that is?l”

“They know, I told them so… in short words even the dumbest of them could understand.” Dei offered, “But maybe that is who you are sensing.”

Kyean shook his head, “Fel girl… you sure you want to stay there? That is a whole lotta trouble you don’t need, considering.”

He really had no idea as she wasn’t talking about dragons or time travel, just people who *might* deal with demons was enough of a threat to what she did, “I have made friends, at least a couple.”

“Did these friends have something to do with the boyfriend situation? Because I can’t imagine you backing down if someone told you what to do in that circumstance unless you really valued their opinion.” He watched her energy drop again so he pushed, “Have you been sleeping?”

What one thing had to do with the other in his mind she would never know, what it did in hers made her sad all over again. “They had something to do with it, yes.” Dei left it at that, “Not really, though I have some new medication one of our healers makes. Hoping it will help.”

He looked almost through her “But you haven’t taken it becuase you have been staying at this clinic.” He didn’t need her agreement as he knew the answer. “You are not going to the clinic tonight. I am taking you for food, then we go back to your place and talk. Whatever demons that are around won’t dare to act while I am,” he said and offered her his hand.

Dei took it and didn’t grump at him, she was tired and having him there would surely help her sleep, it was only when her house was empty that the nightmares came. “Fine, I will send a message to the clinic and I can cook.”

The Illidari looked at Dei, her outline had this stubborn tilt to her chin. When had she grown from that mouse child who gave in to anything Brendan told her, to this? Her spirit was glowing and it was strong, and he liked it. It would help her survive in this world. Demons would challenge her throughout her life, she held too many secrets that many would do anything to possess. Somehow Brendan raised a good Keeper of knowledge, one that may surpass her old mentor.

The demon in Kyean was thrashing at his bindings to wrest control, but the Illidari’s iron will kept a handle on the situation. What was it that made it test its bonds now? It hadn’t done that in years. He had spent much time with the woman even back when she was a child, but now there was an intense fascination from within him that was making him uneasy.

[sunlon-brightspring]

DWC 1: Appearance

In the decade of monk training, Sun had little time for vanity. Naturally, some predisposition towards style was innate, but the golden eyed elf had spent so much time in a temple with the rare visitor. Until his pilgrimage to return to Silvermoon, he had not really worn much outside of his gi that his master required of him. When he did leave, he decided to make his weapon of choice, iron-spoked tessen fans, an instrument for street performance to fund his journey. Thus, his wardrobe was a mix of practicality for combat and some expression of his own style. He had gotten his nipples pierced, and found most clothing to irritate him, so if he could help it, he often went without a shirt. His hands and feet were often wrapped to make hand-to-hand combat simpler, and outside of that, he had hand-dyed garments of blues and golds to match the paintings on his fans. All of this was topped off with ornamental beads, awarded to him by his master for completion of his training, which he wore proudly, and were infused with oils to help him focus and keep relaxed; this aids his overall cheerful disposition.

Since returning to Silvermoon, he's found a mixed reaction to his attire. Most people do not bring it up, which he is appreciative of. Though, he does get the odd comment: Haven't seen a handsome elf like you around. By the Light, put a damned shirt on!

You think you're so tough, showing off like that?

These comments roll off Sun's back for the most part, and have died down over the weeks since he's been back. It likely helps that he's been on the streets of the bazaar with a bag in front of him, dancing along to an enchanted erhu that he brought with him from Pandaria.

His performances are often times meditations for him, and recently he used it to reflect on the very idea of his appearance. Many teachings and proverbs came back to him from the past decade. He did not need to justify his outfit. He did not need to plan it out with any sense of practicality in mind, or to impress the audiences who watched him dance. Feeling his own confidence when he moved; seeing his favorite shade of blue reflect in the midday sun; enjoying how the colors of his outfit matched the paintings on his tessen; all of this brought him joy. And as the crowd tossed their coins into the bag and clapped for him, he was resolved to not let anyone influence his joy. (First drabble for my boy, and first submission for this @daily-writing-challenge

[pyraelia]

May 22 - Day 4 Drama / Celebration

Pyraelia was deeply familiar with her sister’s penchant for drama and the fact that Fiorenze rarely, if ever, recognized it in herself in the moment. 

There was certainly probably more to her sister’s motivation to not attend the gallery than just Xylaes bringing Tinnaire as his plus one; she could understand why Fiorenze was feeling bruised by that, even if it was simply as friends. It broke the “girl code” a tad, but there wasn’t really anyone to blame and there wasn’t anything to do about it that wouldn’t make someone feel terrible when they didn’t really deserve to. 

Had it layered too harshly with everything else going on to be the last straw? She’d tried to press, but that made Fio bristle and withdraw more than she already had. This certainly hadn’t been an easy year, and she knew Fio was already feeling isolated and alone. But, she also knew that not going wasn’t going to make that any better, and would wind up with her sister sulking more because she’d missed out on the celebration of Annya’s work as a whole. 

She pursed her lips a bit as she inked in the final adjustment on the illusion she wanted to apply to her prosthetic arm for the grand party. It was terribly complicated, but she’d experimented with a more rudimentary concept before. Her solid glass illusion had to refract and be translucent — this new version was similar in that it had to be translucent, but the glass effect was thinner and meant to be a delicate shell that contained swirling galaxies and twilight stardust in the form of an arm. 

More than likely she was going to wind up alone for stretches at a time herself; Khaeris and Pollux were going to be there together and she certainly wasn’t going to third wheel their experience too much. Aerden understandably hadn’t been able to confirm his own attendance, and with everything going on with the Song it wouldn’t surprise her if the militaries were starting preparations to ship out to wherever it wound up pointing to. Keranna had accepted her plus one spot, but certainly wouldn’t be hanging out with her. 

There was some merit in the ‘lets spend time as sisters’ angle. Perhaps also the ‘keep yourself open to being surprised and meeting new people’ angle. Much like her spellwork it was going to take some work-shopping, but she was confident that she would be successful in her arguments. 

As much as her sister was dramatic, she also appreciated the dramatic, and the gallery would certainly be that in spades

@daily-writing-challenge / @kharrisdawndancer, @polluxhale, @aerdendios, @vixannya, @tinnaire, @xylaes

[kaisinasunblade]

May DWC | Day 2 | Embrace

Before I became strong, I knew what it was like To be weak, How difficult it is to love yourself, To find the wholeness that you seek.

Before I knew the light, I have had my fair share of darkness, too, Where my world fell into a hopelessness And I didn't know how to get through.

For I have known the tears it takes, The courage to stand up again, When you are broken down and bruised And you know nothing but the pain.

You forget to appreciate love, If you haven't seen the hate, Till you forget the meaning of smile and laughter, And your heart is left abate.

I have known the strength and courage It requires to get it right, To face the things that hold you down And hold your head up and fight.

Before I was who I am now, I was someone I didn't want to be. I was lost, battered, and defeated, Before I knew how to be me!

Insiya K. Patanwala. "Before I...."

Embrace who you've become. Embrace the changes.

@daily-writing-challenge

[wowtalesofadventurers]

WoW Spicy food

This World of Warcraft fanfiction is a entry for @daily-writing-challenge day 5 spicy featuring Jerephan the Dracthyr and some of my Horde characters.

Jerephan the Dracthyr prepare some food for her and her Horde party member at a campfire they set up at Ohn'ahran Plains. A nervous troll named Ishah ask Jerephan as he look at his cooked meat, "You sure this food be safe to eat, Jerephan?" and she reply, "Sure." Be'thema take a bite on the meat and said, "The meat is a bit heat, but it taste fine." The female Dracthyr reply, "Thanks, Be'thema. This is my first time cooking for others, and I don't know if I would do well...." before Gramakk cry out after he take a bite of his meal, "Too spicy! Too spicy!" and run toward a nearby river. When the party give Be'thema a dirty look, the blood elf demon hunter reply, "Okay. I'm half demon, so I'm not affected by hot food." and the party throw their meals at the campfire, making Jerephan feel sad.

[daily-writing-challenge]

COMING SOON

For more information, please see our FAQ page —> HERE!

It’s our second challenge of the year! We’re looking forward to writing with you all again, learning more about your OCs and reading your stories!

See you with a word list soon!

[konietzko-sylvoran]

Day 3 for May DWC 2024 Shame - Favorite

★ Backstage Glimpses at Hearts of Tenacity Fest ★

While interviewing the performers backstage was always fun, this year the hosts decided to have a little fun with it! Loaded with a bag of Hearts of Tenacity pin sets, Konietzko set forth to offer one Starflower and one Aethril pin to everyone they interviewed to see how they'd respond. Of course Talthorn couldn't resist also asking them how many Talicious Pinups that they had on their walls already too as a further way to loosen things up and keep their minds off the pressure of their shows.

Kon recalled Dicenne saying something about, "The two seem fairly inseparable, no?" Which means the guy was smart enough not to choose either but both. So that made it one point for Talthorn and one point for Kon. The Fangbreakers said they all already had purchased the full set to collect so that too was another point for both making them both still tied with two. Grim had reported that they didn't own any pinups yet, but he couldn't help but wonder if that changed after the festival. They certainly had put on one amazing show as a new soul on their stage. But he also recalled that Grim had chosen the Starflower pin. Aha! Three points for himself and still only two for Talthorn. Illerodora considered herself a woman of mystery so she would not comment on how many posters she owned to which set Talthorn off on a barrage of questions trying to weasel some form of an answer out of her but she never budged, not even for him. He smiled fondly at that memory before recalling that she'd chosen the Aethril pin as it stood out against her skin and hair in such a lovely way even if she actually wanted both. Of course they wound up giving them both to her as how could they resist. But that evened up the score again to three each. Liam informed them that Ranathiel had many pinups in their room, though he hadn't caved yet of having one done of himself yet. It didn't change the score for them either as Liam had both pins already from former years of the fest. Malor expressed his thankfulness for the "beautiful and a little familiar" Starflower pin so that put Kon back ahead of Talthorn four to three. Maybe he should have offered one to his wife, that could have been a double point! Nahilvi snatched both of them from him when offered, the little thief. Course he would have given them both to her but that put them at five to four now. Ranek confessed to having a collection of pinups though he wouldn't confess who he had even if he'd teased the worgen a little about having each one of Kon's. He loved razzing his friend though it was no secret. But he was unable to choose between the two pins and had to flip a coin. Konietzko debated rather to make that count or not in the score because he technically hadn't chosen. He scrunched his nose and decided not to cheat. Rye confessed to having a few pinups of both him and Talthorn to which he was not surprised considering how close they were. But when presented with the pin challenge he chose Aethril without even hesitating. "Starflowers are all well and good, but we both admit that there's a vibrant aura from Aethril that is near damn impossible to ignore." He said much to Kon's chagrin. That put them back to being equal at five to five. Ryland admitted he didn't really collect pin-ups but, "I absolutely do have one of Dicenne. He's been a huge inspiration to me, and he's just really fucking hot." A comment which neither Talthorn nor Konietzko could deny but left them all laughing. Much like Dicenne, he had chose both telling them, "I feel like you cannot have one without the other." So that put them both at six to six now. Soo-Ha the lovely dear had been so kind and gentle when they interviewed her. But she picked Aethril right away as she claimed she was a "sucker for hues of pink and purple." Talthorn couldn't fault her for that nor did Kon so that put his husband back in the lead with six to seven now.

Starman was a riot to question, he even blushed a bit with those freckled cheeks when asked about the pin-ups. He said, "I've made sure to update the collection each year... Every performer is gorgeous in their own right, and they can be rather inspirational when writing scripts for future performances. There's actually a small handful that have inspired my performance for this year's Talicious Block." That certainly left them both curious but boy had he brought on the heat with his show. Aznhin did NOT disappoint. Course he declined the pins as he already had both so the score remained with Talthorn in the lead. Much to Kon and Tal's amusement, the Starstriders gave a specific number confessing they had at least five posters. But they kept the score mostly the same as Leo chose Starflower and Trist chose Aethril putting them at seven to eight, Talthorn leading still.

Tarscale tipped Talthorn ahead even further having chosen Aethril as she seemed fond of the pink flower shape so that put his husband ahead with seven to nine and Andy put him ahead even further having chosen Aethril simply because his sister Velathra grew them in her garden. But fair was fair so the score was now seven to ten for Talthorn. Zane at last was their final score to count, admitting she had a few posters on her walls but she too decided to choose the Aethril pin as it was more her style. Course she wanted both in the end but that initial choice counted in this favorites game putting Talthorn as the winner with their scores of seven to eleven. Konietzko couldn't blame anyone for chosing him or Aethril more, honestly he had chosen him over himself too time and time again. With a laugh he called out to Talthorn. "Seven to Eleven, you win!" To which earned Kon a very confused look from the kitchen as he had no idea what on Azeroth his husband was even thinking in that very moment. @daily-writing-challenge @dicenne @talthorn-sylvoran @zaneryne @ithiliosstarstrider @tristayranambrosio @anzhin-the-starman @thecozykirin @rylandfalkov @sirensdxn @ranekvilmas @siennablaze219 @firionbloodsworn @lunethdawnseeker @vaestro And many more I could not find the tags for!

[fio-renze]

May 21 - Day 3 Shame / Favorite 

On certain quiet nights it was getting harder and harder to ignore that she was no one’s favorite. That was a painful thought, hot and sharp to the touch. Sticky, too, one of those notions that would drag one down and drown if handled too long. 

Dalaran glittered in the late twilight, people laughed and passed through the streets under her little apartment’s balcony — not that it had been her’s for long, and shortly would not be again. Maybe it was the excess of wine, maybe it was the truth, but it was pretty miserable to realize how little her feelings meant to people who had claimed to be friends and how small she was in the grand scheme of it all. 

It would’ve been better to go into the alternate timeline with Sylmae, her un-daughter, who loved and missed a version of her she absolutely could have pretended to be. Wasn’t it better to be adored, even as something you weren’t, than not at all? That’s how she’d spent her whole life, and it was certainly better than this. 

Pyraelia could probably send her there, and would if she asked. Away from the mess and the song. 

It was a fine thought for a moment before her stomach turned and the guilt settled in. Bailing would be giving up, and the fact of the matter then remained even now: she didn’t belong there. But she didn’t belong here, either. 

Rue chirped a rolling meow and stretched her long, lanky body up as she clawed at Fio’s thigh, protesting the packed away furniture that had existed to scratch at. It was a subtle gesture, but she got the message — maybe she was someone’s favorite after all, if only to a cat.

@daily-writing-challenge

[commanderbragh]

Served

DWC May 2024, Day 4: Drama

The laughter at the table died down with more than one person wiping tears from their eyes. Banagan shook his head and then looked around at everyone’s empty mugs. Carefully, he slid his chair back and stood up.

“I’ll get us another pitcher.”

“Make it two, lad,” Lorellai said with a grin. 

“Certainly,” the paladin responded with a nod. As he made his way towards the bar, he heard several voices getting louder from a nearby table. Looking over, he saw several men from his previous assignment laughing loudly. One of the waitresses was standing there holding her empty tray, trying to leave the group, but her way was blocked. One of the men had his leg stretched out with his foot on the side of one of his comrade’s seat, keeping her pinned next to the table. The man turned his head and Banny frowned.

“Jek,” he muttered. Before he realized it, he was walking towards their table. 

“Sir, I really need to get back to work.”

“No you don’t, honey. There’s plenty of business here for you.”

“Sir, please.”

Before Jek could respond, he suddenly found himself sliding out of his chair and landing on the floor. Standing over him while holding his foot in the air, Banagan shot him a look before letting go of his ankle and turning towards the waitress.

“Miss, I think they need you at the bar.”

“Excuse me,” she said quietly as she quickly stepped away and disappeared into the crowd.

“Dammit!” Jek yelled as he struggled to get up. His friends quickly stood and turned to face the paladin. “You got a death wish, Larethian?”

“No,” Banagan replied, looking calmly back at the red-faced warrior. “She was needed elsewhere.”

“You really want a beating?”

“No, I don’t think I would.”

“Not much you could do to stop us,” Jek spat out, stepping closer to the paladin.

“Perhaps. But if this is going to take long, let me go let my friends know. They’re expecting me to bring back drinks and I’d want to let them know to go get their own.” Banny pointed his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing behind him.

Jek and his friends looked past Banagan. Sitting at the table, they saw a female dwarf take the rifle that had been leaning against the table and laid it across her lap, her hand resting near the trigger. She cocked her head to the side a little and stared directly at him. He noticed that the rest of the table was watching them as well.

“You’re lucky this time, Larethian.”

“No more so than usual.”

“Spoiled, rich kid from Stormwind. Acting like you’re everyone’s favorite. Spending daddy’s money to buy his way here to a cushy job.”

“Boy do you have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Got daddy to buy that armor for you, did ya’? Never did anything to earn it.”

“Did more than you, I bet,” Banny said with a smile. But there was steel in his eyes, and even Jek noticed it and his bravado faltered briefly.

“One day, your friends won’t be there.”

“Sure. And we both know how you guys like to jump someone from behind.”

“What did you say?”

“Not surprising that you don’t recognize truth when it’s spoken.”

“Watch your mouth, boy.” 

“Or what, Jek?” This time, Banny took a step closer and caused Jek to move back. Banny could hear the sound of more chairs scraping against the floor. He stared at the warrior and waited. After a few moments of nothing happening, Banagan let out a snort. “What I thought. Not so certain when the odds are even. When you have to look them in the eye.”

“They won’t always be there,” Jek said through gritted teeth. “You’ll get yours.”

“Yeah, you said that. Let me know when you want to test that theory.” Banagan took a step back from the group and rested his hand on the haft of the mace hanging from his belt.

Jek looked down at the paladin’s weapon and sneered. “Come on,” he spat out. The warrior turned and pushed his way past the table and through the crowd. The others were caught off guard, but soon followed after him.

Banagan shook his head and watched them exit before turning and going over to the bar. A few minutes later, he was carrying three pitchers back to his friends.

“What’s all that drama about?” the young dwarf asked as she rested her rifle back against the table.

“Remember those trouble makers I was talking about from my old troop? From before I joined up with you guys?”

“That them?” 

“Yeah. In all their glory.”

“They look like a fun bunch. Expecting more trouble from ‘em?”

“Probably.”

“Want me to sick Stroganoff on ‘em?”

“Maybe,” Banny answered with another chuckle. “Let’s keep that as Plan C.”

“Got other ideas?”

“Just maybe.”

“Gonna share?”

Banagan grinned and leaned closer to Lorellai.

@daily-writing-challenge

[kharrisdawndancer]

DWC May 2024 - Day 2 - Agony/Embrace

The dress didn’t actually have bones on it, but the theming was clear. Gold ‘boning’ in geometric and artistic interpretations of ribs and the suggestion of her hip bones. The tall elven woman craned her head to look over her shoulder and into the mirror. The soft greys and dark shadowy fabric moved elegantly with her with a subtle shimmer. It was a beautiful dress and it matched her aesthetic. She looked lovely in it. Confident. She lifted her arms and put her hair up to expose the lines of her neck in approximation of how she planned to style it.

Her arms dropped loosely back to her sides. The art gallery showing was going to be busy and filled with the rich and beautiful. She was lucky to be going. And the art was going to be a feast for her soul. Tinnaire knew she was unlikely to stay into the after party, she wasn’t part of the truly-invited, so part of her winced at the indulgence of such a fine dress for only a few hours showcase, but another part of her missed all the glamour of her life before the fall of Silvermoon.

Her arms wrapped around her chest in a careful embrace. A hollow word turned down the glow of the magelights and she stood in darkness. Her elven eyes let her see enough and she walked away from the mirrors.

@daily-writing-challenge

[siennablaze219]

@daily-writing-challenge - May 2024 - Day 4 - Drama

The Banshee’s Wail

TW: Dementia, infidelity, violence

A woman’s voice screeched through Nahilvi’s comm, hidden under her hair, you could hide an entire engineering shop there with as full as the ombré curls were. “You PERVERT! You stay away from me! My daughter will be home any minute!”

It was the last day of the Hearts Of Tenacity fest and Nahi was kicked back around the fire sharing snacks with Pheonix, a woman she just met, while wearing her jeans, boots and Starstriders tee. One last night of freedom, then she would go back to the chaos of her family life, that was all she had been hoping for, one last night.

Scrambling to her feet, she apologized to the people around her who could hear the screaming, it had been so loud, and ran away from the circle. She stopped behind a tree and clicked the small device. “Mother… what in the Fel is going on?”

“There is a MAN here who tried to climb into my bed.”

Before she could respond another voice came from the shared family channel. “Hey Nahi, sorry, she has been so good all weekend.”

The singer ran three fingers up the center of her forehead then down to the bridge of her nose and kept her voice calm, “Mother… that is your husband Irenthalas. You have been married for years now.”

“No! I don’t KNOW him.” The pitch of the wail was so high only a trained singer could project it. Her mother had been an opera singer for hundreds of years, she had perfected it.

Well there went the last night of the festival and she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye to the new people she met. “I will be there in a minute, Iren.” It would do no good to address her mother, she was in one of her lapses. The dark skinned performer reached into her pack and pulled out her hearthstone, setting it for their home in Dalaran.

In the time it had taken for that simple action, Nahi could hear something shatter upstairs. The stairs were traversed three at a time with her long strides and she slid into the doorway to take in the chaos. Irenthalas was on the floor, blood streaming from his head, there was shattered porcelain in a blue and white pattern around him and her mother was lifting a lamp like she was going to throw it. “Mother stop!”

“Call the guards! Where is the one posted at my door? Our Prince would never leave me unguarded! Did this man kill him?”

Alright, this was one of her bad episodes. Nahilvi’s mother had been a singer in Kael’thas’ court for a long time, one of the favored entertainers that only performed in the main throne room. When the keep was attacked, she had fallen after taking a blow to the head. Nahi had picked up a sword to protect them but luckily the invader’s were focused on Prince Sunstrider by that time and it had allowed Irenthalas to get to them.

He had secretly been infatuated with Acenadalia for decades, but he was a lowly priest and her mother was married to Viscount Preado Sunburst, the ennobled bastard that her mother had found in her dressing room getting head from two of the Summershade triplets while suckling the third’s breast. Of course that wasn’t the first time he had been caught with his pants down, but it had been the latest.

Iren had helped get them clear before the keep was locked down completely, taking the women to his familial home in Dalaran. He treated her mother but the damage that had been done had left her permanently impaired. She had taken a glancing blow to the temple from an invader’s mace, the skull fracture and cuts healed well, but when Acenadalia woke it was clear she was not in her right mind.After it was clear that Nahi’s father had not made it out, Iren and her mother were wed.

With more work the lucid times outweighed the spells when her memory lapsed, but her mother had to be watched all the time. The last time she had not she walked right into the Alliance alcove in the city and demanded that she be taken to Kael’thas immediately along with no few ‘don’t you know who I am’s’ thrown in for good measure,

“Iren?” Nahilvi questioned while keeping an eye on her mother as sometimes she wasn’t recognized either.

The man’s deep voice sounded exhausted, “I’m alright, she just threw a teapot at my head. I never liked that set anyway.”

“Wasn’t that your grandmother twice removed’s set?”

“Yes, but family lore said she was a harridan.”

Nahi wanted to laugh but was expecting a lamp to be hurled at her or her step-father at any moment. “Mother, it is alright I am here now.”

“He crawled into my BED!”

The shrillness of her mother’s voice caused daggers of pain to embed themselves in Nahi’s head, “I am here now, you are safe, put down the lamp.”

“MY BED!”

“MOTHER!” Nahilvi yelled, she hated doing that most of all, “I am here, we will get everything sorted, put down the lamp.

Acenadalia’s gold eyes snapped to her daughter and narrowed, then they opened wide, “Nahi? When did you get home? Did you enjoy your festival? Did they like my song? I bet they did, you have such a lovely voice. Iren? Why are you on the floor? Did you fall?” She set the lamp back down and crawled into her huge bed, “Come to bed dear, I am sure our daughter would like a bath and settle in for the night.”

Just like that, all the drama ended and they were all one big happy family again. Her mother hadn’t been wrong, she did want a bath and bed, but that bath was going to be accompanied by a bottle of brandy. “Sleep well mother, Iren. I love you.”

(Minor mention of #pheonix)