@gn0me
Everything looks like it's in order! Accepted :D Welcome to the club!
Everything looks like it's in order! Accepted :D Welcome to the club!
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Creative Corner
Share your own art and stories, or ask for critique.
TOPIC | [CLOSED] Ascribe: FR WRITING Club
@gn0me
Everything looks like it's in order! Accepted :D Welcome to the club!
Everything looks like it's in order! Accepted :D Welcome to the club!
Ahh, was very confused how you read my prompt when I didn't post it, but apparently immediately forgot that I posted it on my writing Tumblr which I shared. xD I'm glad you liked it!
Now to post it here:
May 6th Weekly Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times.
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter ‘O.’
Word Count: 301 words
Under the evening sun, the citizens living within the small city were disturbed by a menacing rumble. It started well past the city edges, but the few living nearby insisted the earth trembled. What mannered creature was this that rattled the mighty buildings they lived within?
Intrigued eyes peered past glass, staring at the creature that charged by. Its tanned hide was stretched and battle-scarred, and they bellied the past this beast had disputed with. All mannered feelings ran by each citizen, in an attempt at understanding what they’d seen.
It wasn’t a prank, and it wasn’t a dream: the Triassic reptile that charged by their street was indeed the brute they knew as extinct. Queries came, then. What had called this creature back? Likewise, in what way did they return its expired figure safely back? Death was the best release in this predicament—the creatures presence suggested carnage and anarchy. Its claws, sharp as knives, left imprints in the sun-baked street. It gauged clawmarks in cars and rattled each building with its raw fury—fury at being alive, fury at being deserted. The last rex…again.
Few alive knew such grief. The human spirit lived and lived again, but this rebirthed animal was seeing a cruel earth. It was utterly set apart, and in its blind rage it knew just sheer ruin. Uncertainty left its mind murky, and with this mental handicap, it felt little guilt in tearing apart a habitat that it had never lived within.
In the end, they needn’t have stressed; the creature tended its grave by itself. Ripping the street apart, it didn’t see the bridge, and it didn’t see the steep decline the bridge guarded against. Thundering in its rabid mania, its ankle caught the rail and, with an abrupt tumble, it vanished past their sight.
Now to post it here:
May 6th Weekly Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times.
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter ‘O.’
Word Count: 301 words
---
Under the evening sun, the citizens living within the small city were disturbed by a menacing rumble. It started well past the city edges, but the few living nearby insisted the earth trembled. What mannered creature was this that rattled the mighty buildings they lived within?
Intrigued eyes peered past glass, staring at the creature that charged by. Its tanned hide was stretched and battle-scarred, and they bellied the past this beast had disputed with. All mannered feelings ran by each citizen, in an attempt at understanding what they’d seen.
It wasn’t a prank, and it wasn’t a dream: the Triassic reptile that charged by their street was indeed the brute they knew as extinct. Queries came, then. What had called this creature back? Likewise, in what way did they return its expired figure safely back? Death was the best release in this predicament—the creatures presence suggested carnage and anarchy. Its claws, sharp as knives, left imprints in the sun-baked street. It gauged clawmarks in cars and rattled each building with its raw fury—fury at being alive, fury at being deserted. The last rex…again.
Few alive knew such grief. The human spirit lived and lived again, but this rebirthed animal was seeing a cruel earth. It was utterly set apart, and in its blind rage it knew just sheer ruin. Uncertainty left its mind murky, and with this mental handicap, it felt little guilt in tearing apart a habitat that it had never lived within.
In the end, they needn’t have stressed; the creature tended its grave by itself. Ripping the street apart, it didn’t see the bridge, and it didn’t see the steep decline the bridge guarded against. Thundering in its rabid mania, its ankle caught the rail and, with an abrupt tumble, it vanished past their sight.
Ahh, was very confused how you read my prompt when I didn't post it, but apparently immediately forgot that I posted it on my writing Tumblr which I shared. xD I'm glad you liked it!
Now to post it here:
May 6th Weekly Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times.
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter ‘O.’
Word Count: 301 words
Under the evening sun, the citizens living within the small city were disturbed by a menacing rumble. It started well past the city edges, but the few living nearby insisted the earth trembled. What mannered creature was this that rattled the mighty buildings they lived within?
Intrigued eyes peered past glass, staring at the creature that charged by. Its tanned hide was stretched and battle-scarred, and they bellied the past this beast had disputed with. All mannered feelings ran by each citizen, in an attempt at understanding what they’d seen.
It wasn’t a prank, and it wasn’t a dream: the Triassic reptile that charged by their street was indeed the brute they knew as extinct. Queries came, then. What had called this creature back? Likewise, in what way did they return its expired figure safely back? Death was the best release in this predicament—the creatures presence suggested carnage and anarchy. Its claws, sharp as knives, left imprints in the sun-baked street. It gauged clawmarks in cars and rattled each building with its raw fury—fury at being alive, fury at being deserted. The last rex…again.
Few alive knew such grief. The human spirit lived and lived again, but this rebirthed animal was seeing a cruel earth. It was utterly set apart, and in its blind rage it knew just sheer ruin. Uncertainty left its mind murky, and with this mental handicap, it felt little guilt in tearing apart a habitat that it had never lived within.
In the end, they needn’t have stressed; the creature tended its grave by itself. Ripping the street apart, it didn’t see the bridge, and it didn’t see the steep decline the bridge guarded against. Thundering in its rabid mania, its ankle caught the rail and, with an abrupt tumble, it vanished past their sight.
Now to post it here:
May 6th Weekly Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times.
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter ‘O.’
Word Count: 301 words
---
Under the evening sun, the citizens living within the small city were disturbed by a menacing rumble. It started well past the city edges, but the few living nearby insisted the earth trembled. What mannered creature was this that rattled the mighty buildings they lived within?
Intrigued eyes peered past glass, staring at the creature that charged by. Its tanned hide was stretched and battle-scarred, and they bellied the past this beast had disputed with. All mannered feelings ran by each citizen, in an attempt at understanding what they’d seen.
It wasn’t a prank, and it wasn’t a dream: the Triassic reptile that charged by their street was indeed the brute they knew as extinct. Queries came, then. What had called this creature back? Likewise, in what way did they return its expired figure safely back? Death was the best release in this predicament—the creatures presence suggested carnage and anarchy. Its claws, sharp as knives, left imprints in the sun-baked street. It gauged clawmarks in cars and rattled each building with its raw fury—fury at being alive, fury at being deserted. The last rex…again.
Few alive knew such grief. The human spirit lived and lived again, but this rebirthed animal was seeing a cruel earth. It was utterly set apart, and in its blind rage it knew just sheer ruin. Uncertainty left its mind murky, and with this mental handicap, it felt little guilt in tearing apart a habitat that it had never lived within.
In the end, they needn’t have stressed; the creature tended its grave by itself. Ripping the street apart, it didn’t see the bridge, and it didn’t see the steep decline the bridge guarded against. Thundering in its rabid mania, its ankle caught the rail and, with an abrupt tumble, it vanished past their sight.
Man, this was hard! Sorry it's so short, haha.
Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter "O."
Words: 68
There is a T-Rex in the city.
I stare at the prints in the sand, near the suburbs. My friend James is beside me, jaw hanging.
“Huh,” says Sarah. “Neat.”
I stare at her. “Neat? That’s it, is neat?!”
“Well, yeah. I think it’s a T-Rex! The print seems like it, anyway.”
James shakes his head. “Man,” he says. “I guess we’re skipping seeing In the Earth, huh?”
Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter "O."
Words: 68
There is a T-Rex in the city.
I stare at the prints in the sand, near the suburbs. My friend James is beside me, jaw hanging.
“Huh,” says Sarah. “Neat.”
I stare at her. “Neat? That’s it, is neat?!”
“Well, yeah. I think it’s a T-Rex! The print seems like it, anyway.”
James shakes his head. “Man,” he says. “I guess we’re skipping seeing In the Earth, huh?”
Man, this was hard! Sorry it's so short, haha.
Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter "O."
Words: 68
There is a T-Rex in the city.
I stare at the prints in the sand, near the suburbs. My friend James is beside me, jaw hanging.
“Huh,” says Sarah. “Neat.”
I stare at her. “Neat? That’s it, is neat?!”
“Well, yeah. I think it’s a T-Rex! The print seems like it, anyway.”
James shakes his head. “Man,” he says. “I guess we’re skipping seeing In the Earth, huh?”
Prompt: A dinosaur comes to life in modern times
Challenge: Write your short story without the letter "O."
Words: 68
There is a T-Rex in the city.
I stare at the prints in the sand, near the suburbs. My friend James is beside me, jaw hanging.
“Huh,” says Sarah. “Neat.”
I stare at her. “Neat? That’s it, is neat?!”
“Well, yeah. I think it’s a T-Rex! The print seems like it, anyway.”
James shakes his head. “Man,” he says. “I guess we’re skipping seeing In the Earth, huh?”
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((They/Them)) ((Ve/Vir))
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@cartographic @seige @PuppyLuvr06 @Spooner @Silvfyre @Brokenwing @Cattafang @PinkRose06 @fwuitgummy @JCStitches @obanai @Kaial @Agion @ghostpath @BlurryReflection @Rustea @Lotus7 @sorrcha @naranciag @Mypilot @gn0me
Hey! Look who's on time for once!it's me I'm on time for once
Let's see what we've got for this week...
Oooo! And the challenge?
Same as last week, the challenge looks unnecessarily difficult! Good luck, everyone! :D
Don't forget! You can submit prompt and challenge ideas here: boop!
Hey! Look who's on time for once!
Let's see what we've got for this week...
What happens when a star dies?
Oooo! And the challenge?
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Same as last week, the challenge looks unnecessarily difficult! Good luck, everyone! :D
Don't forget! You can submit prompt and challenge ideas here: boop!
@cartographic @seige @PuppyLuvr06 @Spooner @Silvfyre @Brokenwing @Cattafang @PinkRose06 @fwuitgummy @JCStitches @obanai @Kaial @Agion @ghostpath @BlurryReflection @Rustea @Lotus7 @sorrcha @naranciag @Mypilot @gn0me
Hey! Look who's on time for once!it's me I'm on time for once
Let's see what we've got for this week...
Oooo! And the challenge?
Same as last week, the challenge looks unnecessarily difficult! Good luck, everyone! :D
Don't forget! You can submit prompt and challenge ideas here: boop!
Hey! Look who's on time for once!
Let's see what we've got for this week...
What happens when a star dies?
Oooo! And the challenge?
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Same as last week, the challenge looks unnecessarily difficult! Good luck, everyone! :D
Don't forget! You can submit prompt and challenge ideas here: boop!
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For the prompt, I tried a more poetic style
The problem is, when I do that I tend to begin to ramble on, and I stray from the original prompt so I cut myself short on this one
When a star dies, you’d think the world would turn black
Black as the darkest nights, but no
No, when a star dies, no one will see it
It will slowly burn away, and the embers it leaves behind will left to die
Die like the very star they came from
From nothing, to something, and back to nothing
Nothing will remain
The problem is, when I do that I tend to begin to ramble on, and I stray from the original prompt so I cut myself short on this one
~~~
When a star dies, you’d think the world would turn black
Black as the darkest nights, but no
No, when a star dies, no one will see it
It will slowly burn away, and the embers it leaves behind will left to die
Die like the very star they came from
From nothing, to something, and back to nothing
Nothing will remain
For the prompt, I tried a more poetic style
The problem is, when I do that I tend to begin to ramble on, and I stray from the original prompt so I cut myself short on this one
When a star dies, you’d think the world would turn black
Black as the darkest nights, but no
No, when a star dies, no one will see it
It will slowly burn away, and the embers it leaves behind will left to die
Die like the very star they came from
From nothing, to something, and back to nothing
Nothing will remain
The problem is, when I do that I tend to begin to ramble on, and I stray from the original prompt so I cut myself short on this one
~~~
When a star dies, you’d think the world would turn black
Black as the darkest nights, but no
No, when a star dies, no one will see it
It will slowly burn away, and the embers it leaves behind will left to die
Die like the very star they came from
From nothing, to something, and back to nothing
Nothing will remain
WELL that wasn't too bad, I quite enjoyed it. About halfway through I did totally forget the challenge and ended up having to back edit to fix paragraph beginnings. lol
May 12th Weekly Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph.
Word Count: 481
Sirius brushed their hand along the rich dust of the universe, it’s grainy texture familiar on their hand. Around them, the other stars gathered in their numbers. There was Ursa Major, the large cluster always close by one another. Here, too, was Carina, with Canopus at the helm—their luminance nearly rivaled Sirius’ own. It was a pleasure to see them all again.
Again, they were all forced to gather. The last time had felt like eons ago, but perhaps it was only seconds. Time for stars was a plaything, distant and different each moment.
Moment by moment the stars gathered round. Zosma of Leo spoke up, their voice rich and jarring to the ear. “Why have you called this meeting, Sirius?”
Sirius smiled in return, splaying their hands in the air. “I have waited until all were able to partake, for it is always news that deserves to be heard.” They paused, collecting their thoughts into some worthwhile form in their head. “The death of a star brings us all to our knees, but it has indeed come to pass again.” This time they were forced to pause, as low murmurs took over the celestial court.
“Court hasn’t been called for such a thing in ages. Are you certain?”
“Certain enough.”
“Enough of these short answers.” This from Rastaban of Draco, their keen eyes settling on Sirius. “Who was it?”
“It is one from the Kinman galaxy, one whose name has not been told to us.” Sirius gestured toward the cluster of stars, their freckled colour seemingly no different to the untrained eye as any other cluster of stars.
“Stars do not often vanish without us hearing of it,” noted Ankaa of Phoenix. “How did they slip away like this?”
This was not an easy thing to admit, and Sirius was reluctant to do so. “It is uncertain as to how,” they replied, selecting their words carefully. “Even the mortals question it, with their eyes so sharp.”
“Sharp eyes do not always mean sharp minds.” Miram of Perseus gestured towards the solar system they’d gathered nearby. “They do not know all things, not like us.” They drew their hands together, thoughtful. “We will have to keep careful eye on these proceedings, for a dying star—especially in a manner so mysterious—affects us all.”
All the other constellations nodded their agreements. “Perhaps we shall gather again soon,” Sirius assured. “When new information comes to light.”
Light twinkled as the constellations spread apart, returning once more to their places in the sky. Sirius settled back into Canis Major, their brethren clustering around them into the familiar form they’d spent ages in.
In the end, perhaps the mystery would never be solved. Or perhaps the humans would solve it for them, as their race tended to do. Mortality…the stars pretended to be so distant from it, but it caught even them eventually.
May 12th Weekly Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph.
Word Count: 481
Sirius brushed their hand along the rich dust of the universe, it’s grainy texture familiar on their hand. Around them, the other stars gathered in their numbers. There was Ursa Major, the large cluster always close by one another. Here, too, was Carina, with Canopus at the helm—their luminance nearly rivaled Sirius’ own. It was a pleasure to see them all again.
Again, they were all forced to gather. The last time had felt like eons ago, but perhaps it was only seconds. Time for stars was a plaything, distant and different each moment.
Moment by moment the stars gathered round. Zosma of Leo spoke up, their voice rich and jarring to the ear. “Why have you called this meeting, Sirius?”
Sirius smiled in return, splaying their hands in the air. “I have waited until all were able to partake, for it is always news that deserves to be heard.” They paused, collecting their thoughts into some worthwhile form in their head. “The death of a star brings us all to our knees, but it has indeed come to pass again.” This time they were forced to pause, as low murmurs took over the celestial court.
“Court hasn’t been called for such a thing in ages. Are you certain?”
“Certain enough.”
“Enough of these short answers.” This from Rastaban of Draco, their keen eyes settling on Sirius. “Who was it?”
“It is one from the Kinman galaxy, one whose name has not been told to us.” Sirius gestured toward the cluster of stars, their freckled colour seemingly no different to the untrained eye as any other cluster of stars.
“Stars do not often vanish without us hearing of it,” noted Ankaa of Phoenix. “How did they slip away like this?”
This was not an easy thing to admit, and Sirius was reluctant to do so. “It is uncertain as to how,” they replied, selecting their words carefully. “Even the mortals question it, with their eyes so sharp.”
“Sharp eyes do not always mean sharp minds.” Miram of Perseus gestured towards the solar system they’d gathered nearby. “They do not know all things, not like us.” They drew their hands together, thoughtful. “We will have to keep careful eye on these proceedings, for a dying star—especially in a manner so mysterious—affects us all.”
All the other constellations nodded their agreements. “Perhaps we shall gather again soon,” Sirius assured. “When new information comes to light.”
Light twinkled as the constellations spread apart, returning once more to their places in the sky. Sirius settled back into Canis Major, their brethren clustering around them into the familiar form they’d spent ages in.
In the end, perhaps the mystery would never be solved. Or perhaps the humans would solve it for them, as their race tended to do. Mortality…the stars pretended to be so distant from it, but it caught even them eventually.
WELL that wasn't too bad, I quite enjoyed it. About halfway through I did totally forget the challenge and ended up having to back edit to fix paragraph beginnings. lol
May 12th Weekly Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph.
Word Count: 481
Sirius brushed their hand along the rich dust of the universe, it’s grainy texture familiar on their hand. Around them, the other stars gathered in their numbers. There was Ursa Major, the large cluster always close by one another. Here, too, was Carina, with Canopus at the helm—their luminance nearly rivaled Sirius’ own. It was a pleasure to see them all again.
Again, they were all forced to gather. The last time had felt like eons ago, but perhaps it was only seconds. Time for stars was a plaything, distant and different each moment.
Moment by moment the stars gathered round. Zosma of Leo spoke up, their voice rich and jarring to the ear. “Why have you called this meeting, Sirius?”
Sirius smiled in return, splaying their hands in the air. “I have waited until all were able to partake, for it is always news that deserves to be heard.” They paused, collecting their thoughts into some worthwhile form in their head. “The death of a star brings us all to our knees, but it has indeed come to pass again.” This time they were forced to pause, as low murmurs took over the celestial court.
“Court hasn’t been called for such a thing in ages. Are you certain?”
“Certain enough.”
“Enough of these short answers.” This from Rastaban of Draco, their keen eyes settling on Sirius. “Who was it?”
“It is one from the Kinman galaxy, one whose name has not been told to us.” Sirius gestured toward the cluster of stars, their freckled colour seemingly no different to the untrained eye as any other cluster of stars.
“Stars do not often vanish without us hearing of it,” noted Ankaa of Phoenix. “How did they slip away like this?”
This was not an easy thing to admit, and Sirius was reluctant to do so. “It is uncertain as to how,” they replied, selecting their words carefully. “Even the mortals question it, with their eyes so sharp.”
“Sharp eyes do not always mean sharp minds.” Miram of Perseus gestured towards the solar system they’d gathered nearby. “They do not know all things, not like us.” They drew their hands together, thoughtful. “We will have to keep careful eye on these proceedings, for a dying star—especially in a manner so mysterious—affects us all.”
All the other constellations nodded their agreements. “Perhaps we shall gather again soon,” Sirius assured. “When new information comes to light.”
Light twinkled as the constellations spread apart, returning once more to their places in the sky. Sirius settled back into Canis Major, their brethren clustering around them into the familiar form they’d spent ages in.
In the end, perhaps the mystery would never be solved. Or perhaps the humans would solve it for them, as their race tended to do. Mortality…the stars pretended to be so distant from it, but it caught even them eventually.
May 12th Weekly Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph.
Word Count: 481
Sirius brushed their hand along the rich dust of the universe, it’s grainy texture familiar on their hand. Around them, the other stars gathered in their numbers. There was Ursa Major, the large cluster always close by one another. Here, too, was Carina, with Canopus at the helm—their luminance nearly rivaled Sirius’ own. It was a pleasure to see them all again.
Again, they were all forced to gather. The last time had felt like eons ago, but perhaps it was only seconds. Time for stars was a plaything, distant and different each moment.
Moment by moment the stars gathered round. Zosma of Leo spoke up, their voice rich and jarring to the ear. “Why have you called this meeting, Sirius?”
Sirius smiled in return, splaying their hands in the air. “I have waited until all were able to partake, for it is always news that deserves to be heard.” They paused, collecting their thoughts into some worthwhile form in their head. “The death of a star brings us all to our knees, but it has indeed come to pass again.” This time they were forced to pause, as low murmurs took over the celestial court.
“Court hasn’t been called for such a thing in ages. Are you certain?”
“Certain enough.”
“Enough of these short answers.” This from Rastaban of Draco, their keen eyes settling on Sirius. “Who was it?”
“It is one from the Kinman galaxy, one whose name has not been told to us.” Sirius gestured toward the cluster of stars, their freckled colour seemingly no different to the untrained eye as any other cluster of stars.
“Stars do not often vanish without us hearing of it,” noted Ankaa of Phoenix. “How did they slip away like this?”
This was not an easy thing to admit, and Sirius was reluctant to do so. “It is uncertain as to how,” they replied, selecting their words carefully. “Even the mortals question it, with their eyes so sharp.”
“Sharp eyes do not always mean sharp minds.” Miram of Perseus gestured towards the solar system they’d gathered nearby. “They do not know all things, not like us.” They drew their hands together, thoughtful. “We will have to keep careful eye on these proceedings, for a dying star—especially in a manner so mysterious—affects us all.”
All the other constellations nodded their agreements. “Perhaps we shall gather again soon,” Sirius assured. “When new information comes to light.”
Light twinkled as the constellations spread apart, returning once more to their places in the sky. Sirius settled back into Canis Major, their brethren clustering around them into the familiar form they’d spent ages in.
In the end, perhaps the mystery would never be solved. Or perhaps the humans would solve it for them, as their race tended to do. Mortality…the stars pretended to be so distant from it, but it caught even them eventually.
I think this one was a lot easier actually, and also really fun! Stars are so fascinating, and I love drawing comparisons and metaphors with them.
As always, feedback appreciated!
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph.
Final Wordcount: 213 words
...bang.
They say the gods bleed ichor. What is ichor?
Ichor is a memory of a thousand centuries, recalled in golden guilt, trickling in gashes to return to old soil. Ichor is sunlight, starlight, stardust, the universe itself on their side, for they are gods and they will not die until the world forgets them, not quite, not yet. For gods are like stars.
Stars are brilliant, are burning, are colossal ego and energy and empty condensed to one burning point of blazing fire. Stars are the birth and the death of all you know, burning out once forgotten but living for centuries still. Stars are something that you admire from afar, too afraid to come nearer and have your life snuffed out from flaming death.
Death is what stars live by - the young ones have a long time left, always careless in their immortal endeavors, while the eld sigh and shake their heads, resigned to a life of longing. Stars are power, and brilliance and light and living, and yet so paradoxically they are not living at all.
All they are is alone. All they are is - is-
-is a star. Just a-
(a star dies in a supernova, for even after forever their ego insists they go out with a bang.)
As always, feedback appreciated!
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph.
Final Wordcount: 213 words
...bang.
They say the gods bleed ichor. What is ichor?
Ichor is a memory of a thousand centuries, recalled in golden guilt, trickling in gashes to return to old soil. Ichor is sunlight, starlight, stardust, the universe itself on their side, for they are gods and they will not die until the world forgets them, not quite, not yet. For gods are like stars.
Stars are brilliant, are burning, are colossal ego and energy and empty condensed to one burning point of blazing fire. Stars are the birth and the death of all you know, burning out once forgotten but living for centuries still. Stars are something that you admire from afar, too afraid to come nearer and have your life snuffed out from flaming death.
Death is what stars live by - the young ones have a long time left, always careless in their immortal endeavors, while the eld sigh and shake their heads, resigned to a life of longing. Stars are power, and brilliance and light and living, and yet so paradoxically they are not living at all.
All they are is alone. All they are is - is-
-is a star. Just a-
(a star dies in a supernova, for even after forever their ego insists they go out with a bang.)
I think this one was a lot easier actually, and also really fun! Stars are so fascinating, and I love drawing comparisons and metaphors with them.
As always, feedback appreciated!
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph.
Final Wordcount: 213 words
...bang.
They say the gods bleed ichor. What is ichor?
Ichor is a memory of a thousand centuries, recalled in golden guilt, trickling in gashes to return to old soil. Ichor is sunlight, starlight, stardust, the universe itself on their side, for they are gods and they will not die until the world forgets them, not quite, not yet. For gods are like stars.
Stars are brilliant, are burning, are colossal ego and energy and empty condensed to one burning point of blazing fire. Stars are the birth and the death of all you know, burning out once forgotten but living for centuries still. Stars are something that you admire from afar, too afraid to come nearer and have your life snuffed out from flaming death.
Death is what stars live by - the young ones have a long time left, always careless in their immortal endeavors, while the eld sigh and shake their heads, resigned to a life of longing. Stars are power, and brilliance and light and living, and yet so paradoxically they are not living at all.
All they are is alone. All they are is - is-
-is a star. Just a-
(a star dies in a supernova, for even after forever their ego insists they go out with a bang.)
As always, feedback appreciated!
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge: Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph.
Final Wordcount: 213 words
...bang.
They say the gods bleed ichor. What is ichor?
Ichor is a memory of a thousand centuries, recalled in golden guilt, trickling in gashes to return to old soil. Ichor is sunlight, starlight, stardust, the universe itself on their side, for they are gods and they will not die until the world forgets them, not quite, not yet. For gods are like stars.
Stars are brilliant, are burning, are colossal ego and energy and empty condensed to one burning point of blazing fire. Stars are the birth and the death of all you know, burning out once forgotten but living for centuries still. Stars are something that you admire from afar, too afraid to come nearer and have your life snuffed out from flaming death.
Death is what stars live by - the young ones have a long time left, always careless in their immortal endeavors, while the eld sigh and shake their heads, resigned to a life of longing. Stars are power, and brilliance and light and living, and yet so paradoxically they are not living at all.
All they are is alone. All they are is - is-
-is a star. Just a-
(a star dies in a supernova, for even after forever their ego insists they go out with a bang.)
@cartographic @seige @PuppyLuvr06 @Spooner @Silvfyre @Brokenwing @Cattafang @PinkRose06 @fwuitgummy @JCStitches @obanai @Kaial @Agion @ghostpath @BlurryReflection @Rustea @Lotus7 @sorrcha @naranciag @Mypilot @gn0me
IT'S TIME.
Go wild! As always, there will be a word sprint on Saturday at 5:30 FRT, hosted through the club's discord :)
IT'S TIME.
“The dead all died young.”
challenge: use the words "researcher," "see," and "lighter" in your story
Go wild! As always, there will be a word sprint on Saturday at 5:30 FRT, hosted through the club's discord :)
@cartographic @seige @PuppyLuvr06 @Spooner @Silvfyre @Brokenwing @Cattafang @PinkRose06 @fwuitgummy @JCStitches @obanai @Kaial @Agion @ghostpath @BlurryReflection @Rustea @Lotus7 @sorrcha @naranciag @Mypilot @gn0me
IT'S TIME.
Go wild! As always, there will be a word sprint on Saturday at 5:30 FRT, hosted through the club's discord :)
IT'S TIME.
“The dead all died young.”
challenge: use the words "researcher," "see," and "lighter" in your story
Go wild! As always, there will be a word sprint on Saturday at 5:30 FRT, hosted through the club's discord :)
| ___________ |
|
|
Oops I wrote something quickly when the prompt appeared May 13, then had a crazy week and forgot to revisit it and post here until this week's ping!
I enjoyed backreading the other three posts, so here's what I put down a week ago, sorry it arrived late! (and I would have liked to edit it a bit but... moving right along, I'll have to put time into this week's prompt instead!)
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge:
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Silence.
Silence is the last thing you’d expect on the surface of the sun, or any other fireball in the universe, a roiling mass of gaseous fumes smelted from a critical mass of lava crushing itself into a smaller and smaller diameter mass of solids, and a larger and larger ball of flames.
Flames that would consume anything with ears to hear it’s roaring fury.
Fury that consumed all around it, perhaps even soundwaves?
Soundwaves that never registered on an eardrum or meter, who could prove they ever even made a sound?
Sound scientific proof was a necessity in this age, and even the soundest proof was still heavily disputed.
Disputed ‘proof’ lingered in the realm of theory until finally after aeons, the dwindling star gradually extinguished, and the sounds that were never heard finally dissolved into an undeniable, but still unheard silence.
edited for italicising!
I enjoyed backreading the other three posts, so here's what I put down a week ago, sorry it arrived late! (and I would have liked to edit it a bit but... moving right along, I'll have to put time into this week's prompt instead!)
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge:
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Silence.
Silence is the last thing you’d expect on the surface of the sun, or any other fireball in the universe, a roiling mass of gaseous fumes smelted from a critical mass of lava crushing itself into a smaller and smaller diameter mass of solids, and a larger and larger ball of flames.
Flames that would consume anything with ears to hear it’s roaring fury.
Fury that consumed all around it, perhaps even soundwaves?
Soundwaves that never registered on an eardrum or meter, who could prove they ever even made a sound?
Sound scientific proof was a necessity in this age, and even the soundest proof was still heavily disputed.
Disputed ‘proof’ lingered in the realm of theory until finally after aeons, the dwindling star gradually extinguished, and the sounds that were never heard finally dissolved into an undeniable, but still unheard silence.
edited for italicising!
Oops I wrote something quickly when the prompt appeared May 13, then had a crazy week and forgot to revisit it and post here until this week's ping!
I enjoyed backreading the other three posts, so here's what I put down a week ago, sorry it arrived late! (and I would have liked to edit it a bit but... moving right along, I'll have to put time into this week's prompt instead!)
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge:
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Silence.
Silence is the last thing you’d expect on the surface of the sun, or any other fireball in the universe, a roiling mass of gaseous fumes smelted from a critical mass of lava crushing itself into a smaller and smaller diameter mass of solids, and a larger and larger ball of flames.
Flames that would consume anything with ears to hear it’s roaring fury.
Fury that consumed all around it, perhaps even soundwaves?
Soundwaves that never registered on an eardrum or meter, who could prove they ever even made a sound?
Sound scientific proof was a necessity in this age, and even the soundest proof was still heavily disputed.
Disputed ‘proof’ lingered in the realm of theory until finally after aeons, the dwindling star gradually extinguished, and the sounds that were never heard finally dissolved into an undeniable, but still unheard silence.
edited for italicising!
I enjoyed backreading the other three posts, so here's what I put down a week ago, sorry it arrived late! (and I would have liked to edit it a bit but... moving right along, I'll have to put time into this week's prompt instead!)
Prompt: What happens when a star dies?
Challenge:
Begin every paragraph with the last word of the previous paragraph. Your first paragraph should begin with the last word of your last paragraph. (ex: if the previous paragraph ends on "cats," then your next paragraph has to start on "cats.")
Silence.
Silence is the last thing you’d expect on the surface of the sun, or any other fireball in the universe, a roiling mass of gaseous fumes smelted from a critical mass of lava crushing itself into a smaller and smaller diameter mass of solids, and a larger and larger ball of flames.
Flames that would consume anything with ears to hear it’s roaring fury.
Fury that consumed all around it, perhaps even soundwaves?
Soundwaves that never registered on an eardrum or meter, who could prove they ever even made a sound?
Sound scientific proof was a necessity in this age, and even the soundest proof was still heavily disputed.
Disputed ‘proof’ lingered in the realm of theory until finally after aeons, the dwindling star gradually extinguished, and the sounds that were never heard finally dissolved into an undeniable, but still unheard silence.
edited for italicising!
For the prompt
"The dead all died young. Or at least, to Death they did. When you live forever, everything seems small, and short. Someone could live past a hundred, and Death would see a life cut short. A baby who died may as well have never been born. Death always found it sad to see them die, but they knew it was inevitable. But still, they couldn't help shedding a tear every time a promising researcher died, just before they made their breakthrough. They would carry souls up or down, to heaven or hell, or perhaps just leave them in the middle. They were lighter than feathers, the souls were."
"The dead all died young. Or at least, to Death they did. When you live forever, everything seems small, and short. Someone could live past a hundred, and Death would see a life cut short. A baby who died may as well have never been born. Death always found it sad to see them die, but they knew it was inevitable. But still, they couldn't help shedding a tear every time a promising researcher died, just before they made their breakthrough. They would carry souls up or down, to heaven or hell, or perhaps just leave them in the middle. They were lighter than feathers, the souls were."
For the prompt
"The dead all died young. Or at least, to Death they did. When you live forever, everything seems small, and short. Someone could live past a hundred, and Death would see a life cut short. A baby who died may as well have never been born. Death always found it sad to see them die, but they knew it was inevitable. But still, they couldn't help shedding a tear every time a promising researcher died, just before they made their breakthrough. They would carry souls up or down, to heaven or hell, or perhaps just leave them in the middle. They were lighter than feathers, the souls were."
"The dead all died young. Or at least, to Death they did. When you live forever, everything seems small, and short. Someone could live past a hundred, and Death would see a life cut short. A baby who died may as well have never been born. Death always found it sad to see them die, but they knew it was inevitable. But still, they couldn't help shedding a tear every time a promising researcher died, just before they made their breakthrough. They would carry souls up or down, to heaven or hell, or perhaps just leave them in the middle. They were lighter than feathers, the souls were."