i've decided to take part in camp nanowrimo this year. i dont have a proper goal other than to attempt to write every day, but i've put it down as 25k words to write on my profile.
what does this mean for this thread? basically, i'll be writing a lot longer pieces, something like a story arc, but they'll have a different feel to them from my other posts as im not as bothered about wording/quality in them as the others as i need more words~
not that im expecting people to read these harhar, im writing this for myself to remind myself that i dont need to feel pressured to write to my goal, just to write for fun!
rabbit
The wind tickled his nose playfully as he soared over the river, bamboo staff drawing a neat arc in the air behind him. Landing with a light thump, Camelia crouched and pounced forwards in one fluid motion, his target rapidly hopping away. Years of fun acrobatic stunts lead to the Nocturne snatching the rabbit up, though instead of digging his claws in or biting it like a ravenous fox, he merely hugged it close to his chest. The rabbit continued to kick with vigour, but the hushes and delicate stroking lead to the two simply sitting together in the long grasses of the Sunbeam Ruins.
"Now now, aren't you a fluffy one?" Camelia cooed, enjoying the warmth and the plush fur against him. The distinct smell of wild rabbit was strong, tasting of hay and turned earth. It reminded him of the rabbits back on the peaceful Zephyr Steppes at home, though missing the distinct flavour of cranberries mixed in. Instead, there was a hint of elderflower.
"Another traveller? Here? Or perhaps a local?"
He turned towards the voice behind him, loosening his grip ever so slightly. The rabbit panicked at both the motion and sound, biting down onto his hand with sharp teeth and kicking. Yelp, and the rabbit was off once more, fleeing into the nearby shrubbery, as Camelia caressed his now bleeding hand.
"This one must be a wanderer, look at those ropes and maps. No local would need those." A different voice, much deeper and tinted with a hissing accent, much closer now. A tense feeling in his gut made it difficult to uncurl himself from the floor and stand back up, but his staff helped push him back up.
"Well, he must be able to hear us by now." The first voice, clearly feminine and proper this time round. "I hope he doesn't run off like the previous one, though I wouldn't be surprised for a Nocturne to copy.".
Their words hit him wrong, they taunted him. His feet wanted to move, to run and jump as he did so effortlessly minutes earlier, but a sour taste in his mouth from their words left him stubborn. So, Camelia turned to face them, adjusting the simple cap upon his head so that it didn't appear crooked.
Two dragons: both Pearlcatchers, yet they both exhibited very different outfits. Shimmering blue scales was mostly hidden beneath a teal layered dress detailed ribbon frilling for one, matched with a mint green mane carefully groomed underneath a matching hat. No pearl could be seen on her, not even a bag for holding one, even though she stood upon two legs with plenty of space to hold one. The other was dressed in an equally elegant outfit, with the plentiful golden jewellery and violet silks, but dirt flecked his skin, and miniscule rips and tears ruined what could be a mystical appearance. One could only assume that such an outfit upon a maroon dragon could only be a Water element, but a veil covering his eyes kept his alignment a secret.
"Hello there, apologies if we took you by surprise at all." The blue one stepped forwards, bobbing a curtsy as she carefully watched the Nocturne with cold eyes. "I am Soteria, and this is Sand. We are both lost, as you might be able to tell, and hope that you could help show us the way back to civilisation," she explained, gesturing to Camelia's maps that were securely wrapped around his waist.
The steel knot in his stomach only tightened as Soteria talked. Shuffling his bare feet, the fur-covered shirt and linen breeches he wore feeling inadequate, Camelia pondered for a moment. An obvious path was only minutes away if one knew where to go, or even wandering in one direction would have lead to a quaint town among the yellow plains of the Mirrorlight Promenade.
"Aw, don't be sorry at all! It's great to meet you two. Name's Camelia." A chirrup in his voice and bouncy posture took the Pearlcatchers by surprise, considering his hunched back and glowering gaze only moments ago. "I don't live around these parts, but I know how to get to a real pretty village called Ferncombe about an hour or so's walking distance away. I was just there this morning. Very nice place, it is." He pointed his staff towards a white speck in the distance of the beginning of the marble ruins of the Mirrorlight Promenade, the lantern on the end of it jingling.
Soteria stepped to the side, eyes quickly shifting to check where they had just come from before watching Camelia once more.
"How about you show us the way, Camelia?"
"It would be my pleasure."
i've decided to take part in camp nanowrimo this year. i dont have a proper goal other than to attempt to write every day, but i've put it down as 25k words to write on my profile.
what does this mean for this thread? basically, i'll be writing a lot longer pieces, something like a story arc, but they'll have a different feel to them from my other posts as im not as bothered about wording/quality in them as the others as i need more words~
not that im expecting people to read these harhar, im writing this for myself to remind myself that i dont need to feel pressured to write to my goal, just to write for fun!
rabbit
The wind tickled his nose playfully as he soared over the river, bamboo staff drawing a neat arc in the air behind him. Landing with a light thump, Camelia crouched and pounced forwards in one fluid motion, his target rapidly hopping away. Years of fun acrobatic stunts lead to the Nocturne snatching the rabbit up, though instead of digging his claws in or biting it like a ravenous fox, he merely hugged it close to his chest. The rabbit continued to kick with vigour, but the hushes and delicate stroking lead to the two simply sitting together in the long grasses of the Sunbeam Ruins.
"Now now, aren't you a fluffy one?" Camelia cooed, enjoying the warmth and the plush fur against him. The distinct smell of wild rabbit was strong, tasting of hay and turned earth. It reminded him of the rabbits back on the peaceful Zephyr Steppes at home, though missing the distinct flavour of cranberries mixed in. Instead, there was a hint of elderflower.
"Another traveller? Here? Or perhaps a local?"
He turned towards the voice behind him, loosening his grip ever so slightly. The rabbit panicked at both the motion and sound, biting down onto his hand with sharp teeth and kicking. Yelp, and the rabbit was off once more, fleeing into the nearby shrubbery, as Camelia caressed his now bleeding hand.
"This one must be a wanderer, look at those ropes and maps. No local would need those." A different voice, much deeper and tinted with a hissing accent, much closer now. A tense feeling in his gut made it difficult to uncurl himself from the floor and stand back up, but his staff helped push him back up.
"Well, he must be able to hear us by now." The first voice, clearly feminine and proper this time round. "I hope he doesn't run off like the previous one, though I wouldn't be surprised for a Nocturne to copy.".
Their words hit him wrong, they taunted him. His feet wanted to move, to run and jump as he did so effortlessly minutes earlier, but a sour taste in his mouth from their words left him stubborn. So, Camelia turned to face them, adjusting the simple cap upon his head so that it didn't appear crooked.
Two dragons: both Pearlcatchers, yet they both exhibited very different outfits. Shimmering blue scales was mostly hidden beneath a teal layered dress detailed ribbon frilling for one, matched with a mint green mane carefully groomed underneath a matching hat. No pearl could be seen on her, not even a bag for holding one, even though she stood upon two legs with plenty of space to hold one. The other was dressed in an equally elegant outfit, with the plentiful golden jewellery and violet silks, but dirt flecked his skin, and miniscule rips and tears ruined what could be a mystical appearance. One could only assume that such an outfit upon a maroon dragon could only be a Water element, but a veil covering his eyes kept his alignment a secret.
"Hello there, apologies if we took you by surprise at all." The blue one stepped forwards, bobbing a curtsy as she carefully watched the Nocturne with cold eyes. "I am Soteria, and this is Sand. We are both lost, as you might be able to tell, and hope that you could help show us the way back to civilisation," she explained, gesturing to Camelia's maps that were securely wrapped around his waist.
The steel knot in his stomach only tightened as Soteria talked. Shuffling his bare feet, the fur-covered shirt and linen breeches he wore feeling inadequate, Camelia pondered for a moment. An obvious path was only minutes away if one knew where to go, or even wandering in one direction would have lead to a quaint town among the yellow plains of the Mirrorlight Promenade.
"Aw, don't be sorry at all! It's great to meet you two. Name's Camelia." A chirrup in his voice and bouncy posture took the Pearlcatchers by surprise, considering his hunched back and glowering gaze only moments ago. "I don't live around these parts, but I know how to get to a real pretty village called Ferncombe about an hour or so's walking distance away. I was just there this morning. Very nice place, it is." He pointed his staff towards a white speck in the distance of the beginning of the marble ruins of the Mirrorlight Promenade, the lantern on the end of it jingling.
Soteria stepped to the side, eyes quickly shifting to check where they had just come from before watching Camelia once more.
"How about you show us the way, Camelia?"
"It would be my pleasure."
separation
Cracked marble pillars lined all four corners of the village named Ferncombe. As one approached the village, it was easy to tell why it was named the way it was: soft ferns grew in abundance where possible. Lady ferns lined the cobblestone path, tickling the rocks with their long leaves. Along the outskirts, where the peaceful fields met the peaceful village, bird's-nest ferns dotted the land like weeds with their massive sizes, where hatchlings enjoyed hiding in to protect themselves from the worst of the sun's rays. There were no walls around the circumference of Ferncombe, but the thick foliage of hart's tongue made it tricky to merrily walk into the village at any point.
"Here we are. Ferncombe, the main stop for weary travellers like yourselves," Camelia strolled ahead of the group, past the main entrance, claws clacking against the road. "What do you think?" He turned to face Soteria and Sand up on two legs, arms extended as though to show off the village.
Soteria took the moment to stop, leaning her weight against one of the polished entrance columns. "It will do for us to stop here for a day or so," she replied, nodding towards Sand. "Thank you for bringing us here, we can take care of ourselves." Pushing herself off the column, she trotted off with only the hem of her skirt and the hairs upon her tail dusting the ground.
Before the Nocturne could wave her off, Sand caught his hand, taking him by surprise. He had been rather quiet the entire trip to Ferncombe, only nodding or shaking his head with short answers to Camelia's questions about himself.
"As she said, thank you. I wish you good luck with wherever the winds may take you," he said. Camelia's tail stiffened when warm coins dropped into the palm of his right hand. Sand curled his hand closed and left to go after Soteria, smiling.
Camelia watched the two walk towards the village centre, though he lost sight of them once they turned a corner and the residents and other visitors took their place. Checking his hand, his eyes sparkled at the few silver coins he got simply for walking back to Ferncombe.
Pocketing it, he muttered "I s'pose the inn'll be good to go to," and began following the same path as so many other travellers before him entering the village.
separation
Cracked marble pillars lined all four corners of the village named Ferncombe. As one approached the village, it was easy to tell why it was named the way it was: soft ferns grew in abundance where possible. Lady ferns lined the cobblestone path, tickling the rocks with their long leaves. Along the outskirts, where the peaceful fields met the peaceful village, bird's-nest ferns dotted the land like weeds with their massive sizes, where hatchlings enjoyed hiding in to protect themselves from the worst of the sun's rays. There were no walls around the circumference of Ferncombe, but the thick foliage of hart's tongue made it tricky to merrily walk into the village at any point.
"Here we are. Ferncombe, the main stop for weary travellers like yourselves," Camelia strolled ahead of the group, past the main entrance, claws clacking against the road. "What do you think?" He turned to face Soteria and Sand up on two legs, arms extended as though to show off the village.
Soteria took the moment to stop, leaning her weight against one of the polished entrance columns. "It will do for us to stop here for a day or so," she replied, nodding towards Sand. "Thank you for bringing us here, we can take care of ourselves." Pushing herself off the column, she trotted off with only the hem of her skirt and the hairs upon her tail dusting the ground.
Before the Nocturne could wave her off, Sand caught his hand, taking him by surprise. He had been rather quiet the entire trip to Ferncombe, only nodding or shaking his head with short answers to Camelia's questions about himself.
"As she said, thank you. I wish you good luck with wherever the winds may take you," he said. Camelia's tail stiffened when warm coins dropped into the palm of his right hand. Sand curled his hand closed and left to go after Soteria, smiling.
Camelia watched the two walk towards the village centre, though he lost sight of them once they turned a corner and the residents and other visitors took their place. Checking his hand, his eyes sparkled at the few silver coins he got simply for walking back to Ferncombe.
Pocketing it, he muttered "I s'pose the inn'll be good to go to," and began following the same path as so many other travellers before him entering the village.
bread
"Would you like anything else with that?"
"No, thank you. Have a safe night."
The brass bells jingled as Esyouen exited the bakery with a plump paper bag under one arm, a round loaf of bread peeking out. His scales welcomed the cooler evening in Ferncombe, though he much preferred the rustic scent of bread and raw dough to the wet dirt from the recent drizzle. There were quite a few dragons still walking in the village square, but once the tower's bell chimed six he knew that they would all slowly walk back to their places for the night, whether it be the inn or the home. The few village patrols and volunteers were preparing, too, for any foreigners that didn't respect the rules of their land.
In the centre of the square was a slightly raised pond, where shallow water covered coins and white pebbles scattered along the floor. Shiny black slabs of rock kept the water all in, frequently maintained to keep it looking its best. Older hatchlings often hung around the area, sometimes daring one another to sneak a coin or two out. They push each other and taunt, though they never did go through with it, or at least, Esyouen never noticed.
The Nocturne frowned when he felt his foot step into mud first thing off of the bakery doorstep. Even though he had been living about the village for a month now, he never got used to the sloppy greeting of foot to ground in the square. It also prevented him from wearing his silk wraps, that protected him from the burning glare of the sun during the worst of the daytime. Powering through his distaste, as typical, Esyouen began to return to the inn. Squelch.
As he passed by the gathering of patrollers and volunteers, he slowed his gait.
"Any newcomers?"
"Three: the Nocturne wanderer from yesterday returned for some reason, and two Pearlcatchers."
"Describe these two."
"One is blue, constantly stands on two legs, and doesn't seem to have a pearl. The other, a deep red with his eyes hidden, looks to be some sage. Both look like they're..."
Picking up his pace, his heart started beating a little faster. He held his bread loaf a little closer, feeling it squeeze into his side. Mud flecked his breeches as they flew up a little higher from each step.
"We need to find him. I know for a fact he's around here."
Around the corner, walking up to the entrance of the Sweetpuff's Nest, two Pearlcatchers: one blue, standing on two legs, and one a deep red with eyes hidden. Esyouen froze, as did the duo.
"They sent him here to find the ruins, Sand. Those ones." Her movements were jagged, harsh.
"I never denied that he's not here, but he's not the one we need. We need-"
"Not now, inside." She cut him off, and stared her eyes directly at where Esyouen just was.
The two went through the oak door to Sweetpuff's Nest. Esyouen continued to stay still as an icicle behind a pillar, only mud dripping from his raised foot. It was Soteria, the one he was looking for.
bread
"Would you like anything else with that?"
"No, thank you. Have a safe night."
The brass bells jingled as Esyouen exited the bakery with a plump paper bag under one arm, a round loaf of bread peeking out. His scales welcomed the cooler evening in Ferncombe, though he much preferred the rustic scent of bread and raw dough to the wet dirt from the recent drizzle. There were quite a few dragons still walking in the village square, but once the tower's bell chimed six he knew that they would all slowly walk back to their places for the night, whether it be the inn or the home. The few village patrols and volunteers were preparing, too, for any foreigners that didn't respect the rules of their land.
In the centre of the square was a slightly raised pond, where shallow water covered coins and white pebbles scattered along the floor. Shiny black slabs of rock kept the water all in, frequently maintained to keep it looking its best. Older hatchlings often hung around the area, sometimes daring one another to sneak a coin or two out. They push each other and taunt, though they never did go through with it, or at least, Esyouen never noticed.
The Nocturne frowned when he felt his foot step into mud first thing off of the bakery doorstep. Even though he had been living about the village for a month now, he never got used to the sloppy greeting of foot to ground in the square. It also prevented him from wearing his silk wraps, that protected him from the burning glare of the sun during the worst of the daytime. Powering through his distaste, as typical, Esyouen began to return to the inn. Squelch.
As he passed by the gathering of patrollers and volunteers, he slowed his gait.
"Any newcomers?"
"Three: the Nocturne wanderer from yesterday returned for some reason, and two Pearlcatchers."
"Describe these two."
"One is blue, constantly stands on two legs, and doesn't seem to have a pearl. The other, a deep red with his eyes hidden, looks to be some sage. Both look like they're..."
Picking up his pace, his heart started beating a little faster. He held his bread loaf a little closer, feeling it squeeze into his side. Mud flecked his breeches as they flew up a little higher from each step.
"We need to find him. I know for a fact he's around here."
Around the corner, walking up to the entrance of the Sweetpuff's Nest, two Pearlcatchers: one blue, standing on two legs, and one a deep red with eyes hidden. Esyouen froze, as did the duo.
"They sent him here to find the ruins, Sand. Those ones." Her movements were jagged, harsh.
"I never denied that he's not here, but he's not the one we need. We need-"
"Not now, inside." She cut him off, and stared her eyes directly at where Esyouen just was.
The two went through the oak door to Sweetpuff's Nest. Esyouen continued to stay still as an icicle behind a pillar, only mud dripping from his raised foot. It was Soteria, the one he was looking for.
journal
Log 1:
An accident caused the subject to become infected by Project Parasite. Precise reason for accident is unknown. Subject was subdued once subject showed signs of weakness after contact with Project Parasite. No further contaminations have been noted as of date. Subject is now to be treated with the same level of caution as Project Parasite. As subject is the first adult dragon to have been infected, surveillance and security levels shall be high on subject to observe parasite's progression.
Notes of parasite's progress shall be made after 24 hours have passed. Subject is currently unconscious from the parasite having slowed subject's bpm to 20. Conditions are 278K as of 02:36.
Log 2:
Subject remains unconscious. Blood test reveals that parasite levels are at 8mg/cm3. Injection of iodine into blood stream and subsequent imaging reveals that the parasite has largely infected CNS of subject. Conditions are 278K as of 14:56. Studies suggest that 48 hours will pass since the first infection before subject's physical properties will change.
Log 3:
48 hours have passed since last log. Subject has regained consciousness, albeit in a state of delirium from parasite affecting the nervous system. Wing webbing has started to dry from parasite leeching nutrients from host. Subject is restrained and drip fed essential nutrients to keep subject alive.
Conditions are 285K as of 15:38. Temperature has raised by 7K since last log.
Log 4:
Subject has gone missing.
Designated tracker has been deployed.
journal
Log 1:
An accident caused the subject to become infected by Project Parasite. Precise reason for accident is unknown. Subject was subdued once subject showed signs of weakness after contact with Project Parasite. No further contaminations have been noted as of date. Subject is now to be treated with the same level of caution as Project Parasite. As subject is the first adult dragon to have been infected, surveillance and security levels shall be high on subject to observe parasite's progression.
Notes of parasite's progress shall be made after 24 hours have passed. Subject is currently unconscious from the parasite having slowed subject's bpm to 20. Conditions are 278K as of 02:36.
Log 2:
Subject remains unconscious. Blood test reveals that parasite levels are at 8mg/cm3. Injection of iodine into blood stream and subsequent imaging reveals that the parasite has largely infected CNS of subject. Conditions are 278K as of 14:56. Studies suggest that 48 hours will pass since the first infection before subject's physical properties will change.
Log 3:
48 hours have passed since last log. Subject has regained consciousness, albeit in a state of delirium from parasite affecting the nervous system. Wing webbing has started to dry from parasite leeching nutrients from host. Subject is restrained and drip fed essential nutrients to keep subject alive.
Conditions are 285K as of 15:38. Temperature has raised by 7K since last log.
Log 4:
Subject has gone missing.
Designated tracker has been deployed.
potion
The glass flasks bubbled vigorously behind the crimson pearlcatcher, the sides spattered with the yellow concoction inside. Her claws flicked through the tome resting on the pedestal swiftly, eyes scanning. The tome's pages contained detailed diagrams depicting setups to craft various potions, graphs showing efficiency versus potency of various ingredients, and instructions littered with symbols and precise measurements.
Landing upon the page she was searching for, the pearlcatcher flattened the book's pages, titled "Ingredients for Illusion Potions" and walked to a cupboard to her left. Selecting a couple of the many drawers that made up the cupboard, she pulled out a variety of ingredients, including glowing tails, an octoflyer beak, and unicorn dust. The flasks' contents were a vivid orange now.
Out comes the knife, out comes the mortar and pestle. Slicing and grinding and combining the components, she moved smoothly despite the setup behind her threatening to blow. A connected valve whistled harshly once the concotion snapped from orange to red.
Shadowy smoke held the prepared ingredients aloft and separated as the pearlcatcher finally returned to the raging flasks, not before catching a quick glance at the tome once more. Release some pressure, and in went the diced tails, in went the powdered beak and dust. Swirl it, knock it, and in went some wisps of her mane. Check the colour, a glimmering purple, and off went the flame heating it.
Done.
potion
The glass flasks bubbled vigorously behind the crimson pearlcatcher, the sides spattered with the yellow concoction inside. Her claws flicked through the tome resting on the pedestal swiftly, eyes scanning. The tome's pages contained detailed diagrams depicting setups to craft various potions, graphs showing efficiency versus potency of various ingredients, and instructions littered with symbols and precise measurements.
Landing upon the page she was searching for, the pearlcatcher flattened the book's pages, titled "Ingredients for Illusion Potions" and walked to a cupboard to her left. Selecting a couple of the many drawers that made up the cupboard, she pulled out a variety of ingredients, including glowing tails, an octoflyer beak, and unicorn dust. The flasks' contents were a vivid orange now.
Out comes the knife, out comes the mortar and pestle. Slicing and grinding and combining the components, she moved smoothly despite the setup behind her threatening to blow. A connected valve whistled harshly once the concotion snapped from orange to red.
Shadowy smoke held the prepared ingredients aloft and separated as the pearlcatcher finally returned to the raging flasks, not before catching a quick glance at the tome once more. Release some pressure, and in went the diced tails, in went the powdered beak and dust. Swirl it, knock it, and in went some wisps of her mane. Check the colour, a glimmering purple, and off went the flame heating it.
Done.
pressure
Ronder is a Guardian that has been through the worst tragedy one could go through: losing their charge. His laboratory was his pride and joy. It was where he could let his imagination run free, to let his magic and fingers craft new robots from scraps of the old. Word of his works spread far and wide in the Shifting Expanse; anything he made could move freely like it was alive, could keep conversations with dragons, and appeared to have their own personalities. Of course, these were merely rumours, but they weren't far from the truth. Ronder was able to infuse his magic into his creations, letting him freely control what they did whenever they were powered. This combined with his proficiency in engineering made him renowned in the world of robotics.
Employees of the Stormcatcher had known about Ronder for many years, and frequently tried to recruit him to join their ranks. Every time Ronder declined, but he knew that they would persist until he bowed to their demands. Joining the Stormcatcher meant creating machines meant for battles and war, and he refused to let his work to be used for violence. Even professors and associates of his began pushing for it, stating that he would gain a prestigious role. The letters that piled in Ronder's office slowly began including threats that action would be taken if he were to refuse any further. He did.
It first came with his supplies arriving far later than they should. These postponed his projects, which was a mild annoyance to Ronder but he eventually got them. Next it was the electrical outages, of which Ronder was forced to investigate into. The maintanence workers claimed that it was due to the Currents being rerouted around his area, but Ronder had his doubts. The letters were replaced by recruiters personally talking to Ronder to attempt to persuade him. Funding was tricky as companies pulled away from working with him for bizarre reasons. Months of nonstop harassment wore him down, the lengths that the recruiters were going through making him paranoid of anyone he didn't know and for the stability of his laboratory, his Charge.
He began ignoring dragons at his door. He grew short tempered and cold towards anyone that dared to mention the Stormcatcher towards him. Friends and acquaintances of his stopped coming by, and his reputation soured. Ronder's goal was to keep his workplace alive and running, but the outages grew to be hours long, and packages would simply not show up at all. The only dragons he would speak to were Kiseki and Cog, but as the stress mounted up even they heard less and less from him. His only escape from his impending fate was playing around with his machines, his children.
"This is your last chance to join us" were the final words of them. Next day dawned. There was no knocking at his door, no slips of paper slipped into his office as he began his day, no dragons calling out his name as he peeked outside. It was the first day of quiet Ronder had in weeks. He once dreamt of such a day, but it only unsettled him and made his anxiety spike. The silence crawled up his spine like a millipede. This was the silence before the storm.
The power was completely shut off, and all of his projects were only half-started and strewn about his lab. His notes were unorganised, his materials and wires mixed together. There were no more colleagues scuffling about and helping him hatch a brand new idea and bring it to life. There was no whirring of gears nor humming of electricity in his lifeless creations. His Charge was a shell of what it once was.
Ronder knew there was only one place he could flee to in order to escape all of this: the Currents. It would mean leaving behind his Charge, leaving behind decades of work he spent countless days and nights on, all to delay the inevitable.
He fled.
pressure
Ronder is a Guardian that has been through the worst tragedy one could go through: losing their charge. His laboratory was his pride and joy. It was where he could let his imagination run free, to let his magic and fingers craft new robots from scraps of the old. Word of his works spread far and wide in the Shifting Expanse; anything he made could move freely like it was alive, could keep conversations with dragons, and appeared to have their own personalities. Of course, these were merely rumours, but they weren't far from the truth. Ronder was able to infuse his magic into his creations, letting him freely control what they did whenever they were powered. This combined with his proficiency in engineering made him renowned in the world of robotics.
Employees of the Stormcatcher had known about Ronder for many years, and frequently tried to recruit him to join their ranks. Every time Ronder declined, but he knew that they would persist until he bowed to their demands. Joining the Stormcatcher meant creating machines meant for battles and war, and he refused to let his work to be used for violence. Even professors and associates of his began pushing for it, stating that he would gain a prestigious role. The letters that piled in Ronder's office slowly began including threats that action would be taken if he were to refuse any further. He did.
It first came with his supplies arriving far later than they should. These postponed his projects, which was a mild annoyance to Ronder but he eventually got them. Next it was the electrical outages, of which Ronder was forced to investigate into. The maintanence workers claimed that it was due to the Currents being rerouted around his area, but Ronder had his doubts. The letters were replaced by recruiters personally talking to Ronder to attempt to persuade him. Funding was tricky as companies pulled away from working with him for bizarre reasons. Months of nonstop harassment wore him down, the lengths that the recruiters were going through making him paranoid of anyone he didn't know and for the stability of his laboratory, his Charge.
He began ignoring dragons at his door. He grew short tempered and cold towards anyone that dared to mention the Stormcatcher towards him. Friends and acquaintances of his stopped coming by, and his reputation soured. Ronder's goal was to keep his workplace alive and running, but the outages grew to be hours long, and packages would simply not show up at all. The only dragons he would speak to were Kiseki and Cog, but as the stress mounted up even they heard less and less from him. His only escape from his impending fate was playing around with his machines, his children.
"This is your last chance to join us" were the final words of them. Next day dawned. There was no knocking at his door, no slips of paper slipped into his office as he began his day, no dragons calling out his name as he peeked outside. It was the first day of quiet Ronder had in weeks. He once dreamt of such a day, but it only unsettled him and made his anxiety spike. The silence crawled up his spine like a millipede. This was the silence before the storm.
The power was completely shut off, and all of his projects were only half-started and strewn about his lab. His notes were unorganised, his materials and wires mixed together. There were no more colleagues scuffling about and helping him hatch a brand new idea and bring it to life. There was no whirring of gears nor humming of electricity in his lifeless creations. His Charge was a shell of what it once was.
Ronder knew there was only one place he could flee to in order to escape all of this: the Currents. It would mean leaving behind his Charge, leaving behind decades of work he spent countless days and nights on, all to delay the inevitable.
He fled.
voices
content warning: depression
The voices are too loud. With every clang of the iron hammer, the clicks of the turning gears, the squeaks of unoiled hinges, they nag at the back of the Spiral's mind. His mentor tells him of his good work, that he is progressing quickly for a junior apprentice, but he believes that he is lying. He knows
he is lying. It is what he tells himself day after day after looking at his work. All of the mistakes that his mentor would never make, the parts that are too loose, the janky circuits that sometimes work and other time don't, he spots them all in his work. His mentor is merely polite to him, for who would want to point out the mistakes of the hard work of another?
He tries to encourage himself; he tells himself what he did right, how his soldering skills have improved, how his device managed to work the first time round he tested it. That is what his mentor taught him to do to combat the insults he hurls onto himself. However, the tendrils of his thoughts always creep to the front of his mind in the end, their inevitable return a delectably warm welcome for the Spiral. Those flimsy compliments are utterly washed away by them. They are comfortable thoughts, they are ones he always known for himself, even if they stab his heart as they pick apart his work like vultures to a carcass. Nobody else is kind enough to point out how terrible it all is.
Today, or tonight, he created a prototype device to practice making wings that flutter like that of an insect. If perfect, it would be used to help build up his mechanical dragonfly that he had been painstakingly working on for over a month. His mentor offered his aid in fine-tuning the blueprints for the wings, but the Spiral wished to make it all himself. He wished to prove himself worthy to his mentor. Maybe then his poisonous thoughts would slink away and let him feel proud. These wings were a work in progress for a week now, and it was time for the long awaited test flight. His mentor commended him for the time and effort he put into them. Grimy claws gripped a controller from the workbench, wide teal eyes vehemently focused on the copper cube resting in front of him. There was only one thing left to do.
His whole body was as stiff as a stick. Carefully, he flicked the 'on' toggle and pushed up a slider. Slowly, but surely, the wings began to beat. They beat faster and faster. The clak-clak of the inner mechanisms turned into a hum, and the wings became a blur. The cube lifted an inch. His heart was pounding. It rose higher and higher. His teeth were clenched together. Ever so gently, he pressed it to move left.
A wobble. It jitters. His knuckles are white. It stabilises, and hovers to the correct location he pressed it to. The Spiral lets out a breath he was holding, and felt sparks of joy glimmer in his heart.
"It flies! It moves! It's working! You've done it, Coeus, you've done it. You did-"
Clunk. The wings falter. As soon as he felt himself lighten up, the device clatters to the ground, a hideous screeching of metal scraping metal coming from within. The controller soon follows, and so does he. He had not done it.
"You did nothing."
The voices come echoing in. He had not done anything.
"You've done nothing at all."
The voices are far, far too loud.
inspired from
daily writing prompts~
voices
content warning: depression
The voices are too loud. With every clang of the iron hammer, the clicks of the turning gears, the squeaks of unoiled hinges, they nag at the back of the Spiral's mind. His mentor tells him of his good work, that he is progressing quickly for a junior apprentice, but he believes that he is lying. He knows
he is lying. It is what he tells himself day after day after looking at his work. All of the mistakes that his mentor would never make, the parts that are too loose, the janky circuits that sometimes work and other time don't, he spots them all in his work. His mentor is merely polite to him, for who would want to point out the mistakes of the hard work of another?
He tries to encourage himself; he tells himself what he did right, how his soldering skills have improved, how his device managed to work the first time round he tested it. That is what his mentor taught him to do to combat the insults he hurls onto himself. However, the tendrils of his thoughts always creep to the front of his mind in the end, their inevitable return a delectably warm welcome for the Spiral. Those flimsy compliments are utterly washed away by them. They are comfortable thoughts, they are ones he always known for himself, even if they stab his heart as they pick apart his work like vultures to a carcass. Nobody else is kind enough to point out how terrible it all is.
Today, or tonight, he created a prototype device to practice making wings that flutter like that of an insect. If perfect, it would be used to help build up his mechanical dragonfly that he had been painstakingly working on for over a month. His mentor offered his aid in fine-tuning the blueprints for the wings, but the Spiral wished to make it all himself. He wished to prove himself worthy to his mentor. Maybe then his poisonous thoughts would slink away and let him feel proud. These wings were a work in progress for a week now, and it was time for the long awaited test flight. His mentor commended him for the time and effort he put into them. Grimy claws gripped a controller from the workbench, wide teal eyes vehemently focused on the copper cube resting in front of him. There was only one thing left to do.
His whole body was as stiff as a stick. Carefully, he flicked the 'on' toggle and pushed up a slider. Slowly, but surely, the wings began to beat. They beat faster and faster. The clak-clak of the inner mechanisms turned into a hum, and the wings became a blur. The cube lifted an inch. His heart was pounding. It rose higher and higher. His teeth were clenched together. Ever so gently, he pressed it to move left.
A wobble. It jitters. His knuckles are white. It stabilises, and hovers to the correct location he pressed it to. The Spiral lets out a breath he was holding, and felt sparks of joy glimmer in his heart.
"It flies! It moves! It's working! You've done it, Coeus, you've done it. You did-"
Clunk. The wings falter. As soon as he felt himself lighten up, the device clatters to the ground, a hideous screeching of metal scraping metal coming from within. The controller soon follows, and so does he. He had not done it.
"You did nothing."
The voices come echoing in. He had not done anything.
"You've done nothing at all."
The voices are far, far too loud.
inspired from
daily writing prompts~
clarity
Murky trickles of water dribble down the dark cave's stalactites, a steady rhythm dripping into puddles that pooled on the ground. It froze the young dragon's claws whenever he stumbled into them. It was impossible to see far ahead of himself with the subtle glow of his tail as the only light source. The Imperial's black hair was matted and tangled, his starry scales scratched and muddied from crawling through cramped tunnels that suffocated him. There was no end to this labyrinth, no sense of direction for him in the abandoned mines deep underground. The pangs of hunger that wracked his body have numbed his mind, and the toll of the lack of sleep dragged at his limbs.
He shivered; there was nothing down here. Only the sonorous words of the waterdrops talked around him, there were no other dragons, no other creatures. The drops spoke of the long journeys they have been through to reach this one cavern, the places they had been through and what they saw on their journey. The rivets and wrinkles of the cave echoed back too, telling him of their eons of history. This place hummed to him its stories, it cradled him with its walls as it flicked frigid water onto his body.
He smiled.
This was the land that his parents sent him to find, or was it his sibling? They wanted him to find the perfect place to live in, or was it to escape from the old one? No, they needed water. Or was it food? There was no food here, but it wasn't what he came here for, right? He hesitated. His thoughts and memories clashed against each other, muddling his mind. As he attempted to take another step his leg slipped from the numbness, he tumbled. Curled up like a spiral, he finally rested his eyes to hide from the noises all around.
"Zvezda."
A motherly voice spoke, clearing away the fog of his thoughts like a sweet spring breeze. Although the dragon already had a name, this word rang out to him like a lover calling out to him. It was enough to make him awake once again, to try and see where this tender voice had come from.
"Come now, the world is bright over here child. I want you to have a look," they beckoned him over. He struggled back onto his belly and crawled towards the voice despite his fatigue. After a painful minute of searching through the dark, he felt a welcome warmth envelop him from the tips of his toes up to his crown. Everything from the past didn't matter now, all of his memories clearing away to make space for the future.
"My little star, you've made it home."
clarity
Murky trickles of water dribble down the dark cave's stalactites, a steady rhythm dripping into puddles that pooled on the ground. It froze the young dragon's claws whenever he stumbled into them. It was impossible to see far ahead of himself with the subtle glow of his tail as the only light source. The Imperial's black hair was matted and tangled, his starry scales scratched and muddied from crawling through cramped tunnels that suffocated him. There was no end to this labyrinth, no sense of direction for him in the abandoned mines deep underground. The pangs of hunger that wracked his body have numbed his mind, and the toll of the lack of sleep dragged at his limbs.
He shivered; there was nothing down here. Only the sonorous words of the waterdrops talked around him, there were no other dragons, no other creatures. The drops spoke of the long journeys they have been through to reach this one cavern, the places they had been through and what they saw on their journey. The rivets and wrinkles of the cave echoed back too, telling him of their eons of history. This place hummed to him its stories, it cradled him with its walls as it flicked frigid water onto his body.
He smiled.
This was the land that his parents sent him to find, or was it his sibling? They wanted him to find the perfect place to live in, or was it to escape from the old one? No, they needed water. Or was it food? There was no food here, but it wasn't what he came here for, right? He hesitated. His thoughts and memories clashed against each other, muddling his mind. As he attempted to take another step his leg slipped from the numbness, he tumbled. Curled up like a spiral, he finally rested his eyes to hide from the noises all around.
"Zvezda."
A motherly voice spoke, clearing away the fog of his thoughts like a sweet spring breeze. Although the dragon already had a name, this word rang out to him like a lover calling out to him. It was enough to make him awake once again, to try and see where this tender voice had come from.
"Come now, the world is bright over here child. I want you to have a look," they beckoned him over. He struggled back onto his belly and crawled towards the voice despite his fatigue. After a painful minute of searching through the dark, he felt a welcome warmth envelop him from the tips of his toes up to his crown. Everything from the past didn't matter now, all of his memories clearing away to make space for the future.
"My little star, you've made it home."
scavenger
Her footsteps echoed down the dripping tunnel as she walked down the steel walkway in the sewers. The soft light of her tail helped to light up the area around her, revealing the murky waters that flowed underneath her. A putrid stench from below wafted up from it, like rotten eggs mixed with the sharp scent of bile. When the Guardian first entered her stomach lurched just from it, but she had forced herself down the steps and further in. She had to. It was her turn to map out more regions of the Currents, and down this route was the only place left to explore as the rest of the group had checked out all the other places. Every last staircase and door was to be investigated so they could easily traverse it, but it was hard to keep a coherent map of a labyrinth such as this.
As she walked further into the sewers, taking note of various entrances and the turns she had taken on a clipboard, something caught her eye: a lone egg in the water, stuck against some rubbish that caught on a pipe. Wiping her glasses of specks of water, she leaned over the railing to get a closer look. After coming closer with her light, she could clearly see that it was no accident that the rubbish was stuck. A net was stretched out across the tunnel from wall to wall, snatching up anything bigger than a twig, and although most of the items caught in it was algae and weeds, there were other bits and pieces like scraps of metal and cloth, valuable resources for her group. Somebody had taken the time and effort to set this up, and most likely had to wade into the river below if the net stretched down at all.
Her eyes were already searching for a way to pull the net up. She didn't care for the materials stuck in there, all she wanted was the egg. A scavenger wouldn't want another mouth to feed, and would most likely toss it back in. She refused to let that happen. Yes, her own group also wouldn't want that, but she didn't care for that.
There was a rope that stretched up and across to the walkway she was on. She tugged at it, watching as the net closed in on itself and reeled in with each pull she made. As soon as it got close enough she snapped it up and pulled it onto the path, ignoring the squelch and objects poking into her hands. Hurriedly, she unraveled the net and picked up the egg, smiling as she saw that it wasn't broken from its journey. The characteristic thick shell with its scutes told her it was a Bogsneak egg, something that should never be down here. She tucked it under her wing to carry it, when the sound of a creaky door opening made her heart jump.
There was no time to wait, she had her prize, and she had to flee unless she wished to be caught by any manner of unsavoury dragons that lurked these ground.
scavenger
Her footsteps echoed down the dripping tunnel as she walked down the steel walkway in the sewers. The soft light of her tail helped to light up the area around her, revealing the murky waters that flowed underneath her. A putrid stench from below wafted up from it, like rotten eggs mixed with the sharp scent of bile. When the Guardian first entered her stomach lurched just from it, but she had forced herself down the steps and further in. She had to. It was her turn to map out more regions of the Currents, and down this route was the only place left to explore as the rest of the group had checked out all the other places. Every last staircase and door was to be investigated so they could easily traverse it, but it was hard to keep a coherent map of a labyrinth such as this.
As she walked further into the sewers, taking note of various entrances and the turns she had taken on a clipboard, something caught her eye: a lone egg in the water, stuck against some rubbish that caught on a pipe. Wiping her glasses of specks of water, she leaned over the railing to get a closer look. After coming closer with her light, she could clearly see that it was no accident that the rubbish was stuck. A net was stretched out across the tunnel from wall to wall, snatching up anything bigger than a twig, and although most of the items caught in it was algae and weeds, there were other bits and pieces like scraps of metal and cloth, valuable resources for her group. Somebody had taken the time and effort to set this up, and most likely had to wade into the river below if the net stretched down at all.
Her eyes were already searching for a way to pull the net up. She didn't care for the materials stuck in there, all she wanted was the egg. A scavenger wouldn't want another mouth to feed, and would most likely toss it back in. She refused to let that happen. Yes, her own group also wouldn't want that, but she didn't care for that.
There was a rope that stretched up and across to the walkway she was on. She tugged at it, watching as the net closed in on itself and reeled in with each pull she made. As soon as it got close enough she snapped it up and pulled it onto the path, ignoring the squelch and objects poking into her hands. Hurriedly, she unraveled the net and picked up the egg, smiling as she saw that it wasn't broken from its journey. The characteristic thick shell with its scutes told her it was a Bogsneak egg, something that should never be down here. She tucked it under her wing to carry it, when the sound of a creaky door opening made her heart jump.
There was no time to wait, she had her prize, and she had to flee unless she wished to be caught by any manner of unsavoury dragons that lurked these ground.
young one
"Kiseki! You're back early. Why d'ya look like you've been in a scuffle with a toridae? And why d'ya smell like one too?" The Spiral wrinkled his nose as a Guardian walked into their makeshift base, of which was just one of the many abandoned bunkers that were scattered about the Currents. He hopped up from the floor and over to her, brushing aside a schematic he had been working on and walking over scattered papers.
"I ended up finding some sewer pipes down the B-4 section's stairs, so in C-4, which we'll have to check more of later on." She pulled out a rolled up map she had sketched and handed it over. It was damp with odd brown stains, and the Spiral barely held the edges of it to open it up and inspect what had been discovered.
"Did ya find anything good down there? It looks like ya got something in your wing." He dropped the map onto a crooked table with multiple other maps similar to it, of which were pinned down to make a rough map of the B floor. There were only 4 patches left blank, all of which were in the centre, and their current base was marked in red in the lower left corner.
Kiseki didn't respond, instead pulling off her dirtied gloves and shoes before gently pulling out a green egg from her wing, holding it as though it was her own. If it weren't for its thick shell the egg would have been broken by now. Scuff marks and nicks dotted it, and some glistening strands of weeds clung to it.
"Coeus, I know what you're thinking, and it's what I've been thinking about too on my way over here. I found this down there in a trap in the waters, and it's why I came back early," she walked over to a bed and took one of the linen blankets, wrapping the egg in it. "We will keep this and hatch it, and I take no for an answer." Her eyes glared straight at him, making him start twitching his tail and shrink back. She was usually the dragon to simply go with what was best for the group, so this sudden change in attitude took him by surprise.
"W-well, I won't stop ya, but you'll have to get through to Ronder. He won't like one bit about having an egg, not at all." Coeus stammered. His ears flattened as footsteps clunked against the concrete behind a rusted door, it squeaking as it opened to an olive Guardian.
He didn't speak at first, instead observing Kiseki and Coeus with drooping eyes. The Spiral chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and slunk backwards to make space for Ronder as he trodded his way inside and closer to Kiseki. His back was hunched over as he walked, his wings partially lifted. His eyes drifted over to the egg in her arms, and looked back up at her. His voice was rough as he spoke.
"Leave it."
"No."
"Give me the egg." His voice grew a bit louder this time, raising his neck to meet Kiseki's stubborn eyes.
"I will not." She pulled the egg closer to herself, snarling at him.
"We will not have a young one join us. Leave it." He glared at her, tattered cheek fans flaring. Coeus piped up as he felt the two dragons' anger rising.
"Y-ya know, we're not in a safe place. Having a newly hatched one with us will only hinder us, and it would be way too dangerous for the hatchling too. It'll be better to put it somewhere hidden and let somebody else-"
"Shut it, I will not have another life lost to the Lightning cause. Don't you remember why I came down here with the rest of you, even with Ronder leading the group?" Kiseki snapped, spreading her wings out. They reached almost touched one of the room to the other. Coeus immediately backed down, and she brought them back to wrap the egg in it. Ronder, however, remained unfazed.
"Kiseki, the young one will be more likely to be harmed with us. Do not forget that we are headed further down, where it will be harder to sustain us four, much less with a young one that needs to eat more to grow healthily." He explained, lowering his fins to maintain his composure.
"And you're still using the exact same words an employee would use. You haven't changed, you're still acting like back then. If we want to do good instead of keeping with the Stormcatcher's orders, like we vowed to do, then we will be keeping this egg." Kiseki hissed, letting the words flow out. Her eyes widened as her mind realised what she said. Ronder's clawtips sparked with electricity, puffing his chest out as she gaped at him. He looked back down at the egg, then stormed off back from where he came from.
"Wait! I didn't mean to say that," but he was gone, the door slamming shut. Kiseki looked blank-faced at the door, one hand reached out. She glanced back down at the egg, and slowly smiled, bringing herself to lay on the bed with the egg tucked in closer underneath her wing.
Coeus' eyes flicked back and forth between the door and Kiseki, before withdrawing back to his workspace on the floor, having no words as he pick up a screwdriver and began picking at a musty device that refused to give way.
From the entrance to the bunker, a dainty dragon peeped his head around the side, long hair pooling on the floor as he looked at the aftermath of the fight. A smirk crept across his face, eyes lighting up as he prepared his announcement:
"Everybody, I got some great news for you all!"
young one
"Kiseki! You're back early. Why d'ya look like you've been in a scuffle with a toridae? And why d'ya smell like one too?" The Spiral wrinkled his nose as a Guardian walked into their makeshift base, of which was just one of the many abandoned bunkers that were scattered about the Currents. He hopped up from the floor and over to her, brushing aside a schematic he had been working on and walking over scattered papers.
"I ended up finding some sewer pipes down the B-4 section's stairs, so in C-4, which we'll have to check more of later on." She pulled out a rolled up map she had sketched and handed it over. It was damp with odd brown stains, and the Spiral barely held the edges of it to open it up and inspect what had been discovered.
"Did ya find anything good down there? It looks like ya got something in your wing." He dropped the map onto a crooked table with multiple other maps similar to it, of which were pinned down to make a rough map of the B floor. There were only 4 patches left blank, all of which were in the centre, and their current base was marked in red in the lower left corner.
Kiseki didn't respond, instead pulling off her dirtied gloves and shoes before gently pulling out a green egg from her wing, holding it as though it was her own. If it weren't for its thick shell the egg would have been broken by now. Scuff marks and nicks dotted it, and some glistening strands of weeds clung to it.
"Coeus, I know what you're thinking, and it's what I've been thinking about too on my way over here. I found this down there in a trap in the waters, and it's why I came back early," she walked over to a bed and took one of the linen blankets, wrapping the egg in it. "We will keep this and hatch it, and I take no for an answer." Her eyes glared straight at him, making him start twitching his tail and shrink back. She was usually the dragon to simply go with what was best for the group, so this sudden change in attitude took him by surprise.
"W-well, I won't stop ya, but you'll have to get through to Ronder. He won't like one bit about having an egg, not at all." Coeus stammered. His ears flattened as footsteps clunked against the concrete behind a rusted door, it squeaking as it opened to an olive Guardian.
He didn't speak at first, instead observing Kiseki and Coeus with drooping eyes. The Spiral chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and slunk backwards to make space for Ronder as he trodded his way inside and closer to Kiseki. His back was hunched over as he walked, his wings partially lifted. His eyes drifted over to the egg in her arms, and looked back up at her. His voice was rough as he spoke.
"Leave it."
"No."
"Give me the egg." His voice grew a bit louder this time, raising his neck to meet Kiseki's stubborn eyes.
"I will not." She pulled the egg closer to herself, snarling at him.
"We will not have a young one join us. Leave it." He glared at her, tattered cheek fans flaring. Coeus piped up as he felt the two dragons' anger rising.
"Y-ya know, we're not in a safe place. Having a newly hatched one with us will only hinder us, and it would be way too dangerous for the hatchling too. It'll be better to put it somewhere hidden and let somebody else-"
"Shut it, I will not have another life lost to the Lightning cause. Don't you remember why I came down here with the rest of you, even with Ronder leading the group?" Kiseki snapped, spreading her wings out. They reached almost touched one of the room to the other. Coeus immediately backed down, and she brought them back to wrap the egg in it. Ronder, however, remained unfazed.
"Kiseki, the young one will be more likely to be harmed with us. Do not forget that we are headed further down, where it will be harder to sustain us four, much less with a young one that needs to eat more to grow healthily." He explained, lowering his fins to maintain his composure.
"And you're still using the exact same words an employee would use. You haven't changed, you're still acting like back then. If we want to do good instead of keeping with the Stormcatcher's orders, like we vowed to do, then we will be keeping this egg." Kiseki hissed, letting the words flow out. Her eyes widened as her mind realised what she said. Ronder's clawtips sparked with electricity, puffing his chest out as she gaped at him. He looked back down at the egg, then stormed off back from where he came from.
"Wait! I didn't mean to say that," but he was gone, the door slamming shut. Kiseki looked blank-faced at the door, one hand reached out. She glanced back down at the egg, and slowly smiled, bringing herself to lay on the bed with the egg tucked in closer underneath her wing.
Coeus' eyes flicked back and forth between the door and Kiseki, before withdrawing back to his workspace on the floor, having no words as he pick up a screwdriver and began picking at a musty device that refused to give way.
From the entrance to the bunker, a dainty dragon peeped his head around the side, long hair pooling on the floor as he looked at the aftermath of the fight. A smirk crept across his face, eyes lighting up as he prepared his announcement:
"Everybody, I got some great news for you all!"
