#wip: WotG

[pen-of-roses]

A Path Between Shards

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial this week, this prompt helped me do some world building!

They could feel the change in the air as soon as the overgrown cobblestone road came into view, and it made the hairs on their arm stand on end. 

Not far from the road, what was once likely a guard tower stood in a heap of stone. It was still enough to make out the three walls with a hole for a door that had likely rotted away years ago in one. Two of the walls framed the rubble that had spilled out past them with the disappearance of the fourth and abrupt end to the cobble road. Nature made a valiant attempt to hide this peculiarity, but they could see through it after all their previous exposure.

“Well, at least I’m in the right place.”

An Abyssal fissure. And likely, a way off Korryn.

Paths between shards were always a tricky thing.

Some would have the whole of Esharial believe that most, if not all, were well known and documented by the various governments and rulers of each Shard. Those ones got fancy names and there was a lot of effort put into organizing travel between them. The big gateways even got special ships to go through because Abyssal fissures were terrifying enough to most just being near them, let alone in them. The little ones most people just knew to avoid or would have special guards placed near them. All nice, official, and safe.

The reality, of course, was much different.

With so little actually known about Esharial as a whole now, let alone pre-Shattering, there was no actual way to document every single Abyssal fissure, let alone every little portal that dotted them. Especially when certain ones were close enough to each other that someone could spend years traveling back and forth through it and never even know.

Of course, others were a bit more obvious in what had happened. Either the unlucky bastard literally fell through the Abyss to the other end, or they wandered through an innocent patch of land, only to turn around and realize the path they’d just walked was gone and it was a one way trip. Or if they were really unlucky, both the falling and one way trip.

Dear and blessed Veyrit, don’t let this one be one of those cases. 

Of course, with their life, the fuckers would probably think that would just be another humorous chapter in the tragic comedy of Oren Blytridj.

They sighed.

Regardless of how the trip went, they still had to find the abyssal damned thing.

Stepping closer to the crumbling stone wall, they closed their eyes and took a deep breath, and listened.

This close to the Abyss, many assumed that Cast came easier to Casters. After all, magic flowed easily here, whispering promises of secrets and power to be found and used by anyone determined enough to. It was an intoxicating thing. A dangerous thing. A danger that those who had never learned to use Cast knew very little about, and one every Caster knew by heart.

Casters did not learn at Abyssal fissures because the raw ambient power of Esharial’s magic could sweep even the most disciplined of Casters away in its currents if they let their guard down for even a moment. 

They didn’t even need to pull any Cast for that heat to begin stirring in their veins. A familiar buzzing warmth waiting to use them as a conduit to be freed if they just let it.

They shuddered.

There was a reason other types of magic users—even most young Casters, or those who performed truly powerful or dangerous types of Cast—preferred to pull it through something other than just their own body.

But even with the sure force of it crackling under their skin and the rushing river of its whispers only growing louder and more insistent, they followed it towards it closer to the source. One hand traced the edge of the fissure, multicolored sparks dancing along their arm. They pushed back against their attempts to flow through it.

Between that concentration, the thundering ethereal voices in their ear, and their own rapidly beating heart, they almost missed the ever so slight give in magic, just a hair weaker than the surrounding area.

The portal.

To their mortal eyes it was nothing but empty air and wild vegetation.

To their hands, it was the heat of a campfire trapped in this little pocket of air.

Their heart was competing with the rush of magic now as they swallowed and closed their eyes.

“Leyraveyrit, if you have ever watched over me or my sister, then you will let this lead me to her. Please.”

And they stepped forward.

And the world, their world, their home, fell away.

Tag List: @concealeddarkness13

[molotov-burnout]

Intro

[This is a Saw OC rp account, though it is far from the first.]

“Hey there. My name is Jack. I’m a man, about 27. I got on here to socialize I guess. Talk to me if you’re interested. I’m a Jigsaw survivor. I play bass. I also collect records so hit me up if you have anything.”

INFO DOWN HERE!!!

Bro was a victim of the flammable jelly trap (that’s where this WIP handle came from) because I think it’s an interesting one that wasn’t really shown in the movie too much. He probably survived only because he got help from Amanda or someone I imagine he looks something like a cross between these two.

I’m gonna draw him eventually, but he’s a kind of tan guy with bleach blond hair. He has a large burn scar across his left arm and chest now from his trap. He was tested after dealing drugs to some teens which resulted in an OD and SHing using a lighter. He isn’t a very pleasant person and is probably bisexual. He likes Mexican food a lot and also likes birds and snakes. He has a pet boa. I hope I was able to make him original enough because I’ve had him for a while. Oh yeah I run

@adam-fuck-her-stan-wife

gonna tag some baes (my acquaintances) that I think might like to see perhaps

@riggedtraps

@wotg-is-life

@c0nd0rs-1n-dre6ml6nd

[pen-of-roses]

Whispers of the Grey (WIP sorta Re-Intro?)

The Grey are a bedtime story, a warning meant to scare reckless Casters who don't want to learn control over their power. If there were real cases, they were few and far between, meant to be swept away quickly. They weren't supposed to be real.

And Evashen wasn't meant to be remembered. Or found.

...

The Blytridj siblings are the darlings and terrors of The Wyvern Coven of Korryn, a prestigious research collective of Casters. Najdinel "Din" is a dedicated researcher, and her sibling Oren is a promising healer-in-training, both of which causes most to look the other way in regards to their mysterious history and perhaps less than legal means of getting by outside the spyre's walls.

It starts as a simple expedition to a crack in Korryn that reveals a seemingly unknown Shard with ruins that connect it to their deities. Then they trigger an old curse. Reports say that only a handful survived, with the rest presumed dead. And among the fallen is Din. But the curse isn't finished, as Casters start to lose control and the very Shard of Korryn itself begins to break apart, with creatures out of horror stories spilling out of the cracks.

And Oren starts to have visions of their sister still alive, and an ancient land and it's forgotten last leader.

Armed with these foreign memories, an heirloom of the Coven dating back to it's founding, and a companion claiming to be sent by the Veyrit themselves, they set out to save their sister, and their home if possible. But bringing light to the darkened history of Korryn and the Veyrit ruled kingdom before it might prove far worse than any realized.

Oren Blytridj: The healer turned knight.

Najdinel Blytridj: The researcher lost in the ruins of history.

Safirel: The last Prophet of Evashen.

Tag List: @concealeddarkness13

Let me know if you want to be added (but know I'm sometimes bad at using it)

[pen-of-roses]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks for the tag @chauceryfairytales!

My words are green, rain, ghost, cat, and time. I'm pulling across three different wips here

Green-WotG

A flurry of blue and green feathers had him turning quickly to the source, memories of an elaborate cape of a similar design and a cocky voice filling his mind.

Rain-WotG

Just outside the door they hadn’t bothered to close, the rain was heavy enough to obscure the rest of the town, and it drummed a pounding rhythm on the roof. Hopefully the old wood could stand one more night. Or day. Whatever fucking time it was now.

Ghost-Abyssal Damned

Even her own friends would struggle for more insight into her as a person past the surface level of her interests. It doesn’t seem to be a purposeful thing though, she’s rather warm and inviting after all, it’s more just, Ilm exists as a ghost of sorts, slipping from one group to the other easily, fitting in with practically anyone and everyone, but never really lingering or connecting, and keeping to herself most often. Not an unusual habit for the scholars of Glassfeld.

Very confused that I can't find one for cat when I know one of my characters has a cat??? Maybe I'm looking through the wrong files

Time-Duskend

“Hm? Oh you mean in my apartment all that time ago? You think I don’t know about every single shardwalker the moment they fall onto this shard? I’d be a fool not to.”

Tagging: @concealeddarkness13 @duskforged @ratracechronicler and @sparrow-orion-writes (feel free to ignore if you don't do these)

Your words are: fire, lonely, hope, ancient, and song