11/13/2020

11/21/2024 12:14 AM

1111

3

132 wins / 101 losses

Sage

Emperor's Fireworks

24 hours to save the ceremony, but is it even worth it?

Author's Notes

Multiple/Full readthroughs strongly recommended.

Entry for Endmaster's Crisis Contest, 2024

In 3

The Red Church

"In your dreams, you see the crimson spires rise from the fog menacingly... a voice, whispering 'come back' over, and over again."

Author's Notes



Entry for Endmaster's Prompt Contest 3, 2024
Prompt: A story about making a deal with a demon/devil.

This article gives basic information on HTML in the text editor. Things included are paragraph, line breaks, bold, italics, underline, strikethrough, links, and images.

Well shit. These encounters were rough. Was fun. One of these days my character will escape successfully.

Bishop shrugs off the side comments from the mason and hunter, and tries to recite a prayer for the fallen Miller. Tries, that is. A few words in the smell (that somehow passed through the gate) hits him, and he gags uncontrollably. He decides that a few words are enough.

Thank you for the feedback, Gryphon. Those are good edits, and being a bit too general has always been an issue with my writing, and I think those changes do help with the clarity and strength of words used. I agree that I tend to distance the reader and the narrator, and aside from the last 'hear' which was intentional, the others can definitely be revised. I ended with ellipses because I was running a little over word count and I had no idea where the story would go from there (other than the gay highschool romance). It's a valid point, though.

50k featured gay romance story incoming.

Thank you, Gower. The style thing was definitely not intentional, though I vaguely noticed it towards the end.

Just my specialty.

Bishop has always been a devout man of the Lord, and had no doubts in the purity of his soul. He will step up first to be inspected.

I haven't written in a while, so I may be a little rusty... and slow. Very slow. --- Length: 216 words Time: ~20 minutes(!) You couldn't help but peek over the top of your canvas to check on Marco. As if sensing your gaze, he looks up and gives you a lopsided smile before scooting his easel to completely obscure your vision. "I couldn't see it anyway," you mutter, sitting back in your seat. He makes no response, but you know that he's enjoying the mystique he's putting up for his artwork. You shake your head and return to your little sunset over the hill, brushing on the last few rays of light as your impatient subject threatens to duck under the horizon. Moments later, you hear him stand, satisfied. "What did you paint?" he asks. "I'm more interested in what you had made," you reply, ignoring his question. He smirks, and brings his canvas over to you. It takes you a few moments to see it - a blurry, impressionistic city scene slathered on the canvas with wavering streaks of paint. As you focus, the shapes become clearer: skyscrapers, cars, people, and the streaks of neon light reflected on the rain-wetted asphalt. "Kolkata," he adds. "I grew up there." "And you?" he asks, peering towards your canvas. Slightly embarrassed, you stand to block it with a nervous chuckle. "Why don't you tell me more about Kolkata?" you hear yourself asking.... --- Trying some more dialogue related stuff. Dunno, didn't see where this story really was going, but it's just a short snippet anyways.

"The hand of God, indeed," Brand replies, looking down at his trusty shield. "I will take the lead this time."

Something like this could finally get me writing again. Count me in.