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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Jan 22, 2020 23:08:47 GMT -5
 How You Came Here...*Taps on your window* Pssst, hey, you got a sec?
You--still in your unicorn onesie--hesitantly slide open your bedroom window to find me--your 'kind-of-friend-you-only-chat-to-online'--breathing heavily as I cling desperately to the very convenient tree branch leaning against your house.
You look at me with my tangled, soaking wet hair to my suspiciously dark clothes, and to the horrific black shadows bulging underneath my blood shot eyes.
What do you want? You ask.
And I with a shaking hand hold up a giant notebook with thousands upon thousands of words scribbled across each page. And I say to you with a loud, mad shout: WOULD YOU LIKE TO READ MY 100 ONE-SHOT CHALLENGE ATTEMPT?
You, rightfully afraid, slam the window closed.
*Taps on your window again*
You--smarter now--do not open the window, but lean against the glass to listen.
I whisper to you through the glass, my breath fogging up your view of my face: But really you should take a chainsaw to this branch, this isn't a YA novel where love interests climb through your window.
Welcome to my 100 One Shot Journal
Be Wary of Madness
The Challenge: Write 100 One Shots inspired by pre-chosen prompts, in order, containing 1500 words each!
My Challenge: Make every one shot take place in one world with a cohesive timeline; essentially, weave them all into a story!
The Characters Who Will be TorturedKyllian - An orange tom with brown tabby markings and light green eyes. His left foreleg is permanently disfigured.
Qotho - An immortal god, known as Qotho, the Giver or Qotho, the Thief. A large smudgy grey tom with darker, almost black fur on his tail legs and face. Normally his face is adorned with an amber eye and a light blue eye, but something changes when mortal cats look upon him...
Mori - A deep orange she-cat with darker, burnt brown fur on her back and tail and forehead with light green eyes.The Prompts ( completed & unfinished )
1. Injured - 1586 words
2. Sinking - 1500 words
3. Father
4. Exploit
5. Boredom
6. Art of Conversation
7. Take Your Best Shot
8. Creativity
9. Flash
10. Puzzling Words
11. Ill
12. Skeleton
13. Nothing
14. Servitude
15. Possibilities
16. Weightless
17. Just Say It
18. Last Words
19. Immature
20. Blazing
21. Help
22. Presence
23. Because
24. Forced
25. Reversed
26. Cast Away
27. Emotions
28. Questions
29. Wishing
30. Crackling
31. Curl Up
32. Together
33. Look Again
34. Brief
35. Space
36. Special
37. Jinx
38. Stop Fussing
39. Cozy
40. Breaking
41. Either Or
42. Tell Me a Story
43. Waiting
44. Willpower
45. Who Am I?
46. Idol
47. Unseen
48. Just Try
49. For Me?
50. Your Choice (Literally! You've made it to fifty, so write about any topic/theme you choose for this one!)
51. Useful
52. Treasure
53. Ceremony
54. Lightning
55. Protection
56. Stay With Me
57. Mint
58. Rescue
59. Dominant
60. Thief
61. Deserter
62. Stolen
63. Sarcasm
64. Darling
65. How Much is too Much?
66. Over
67. Try Again
68. Hidden
69. Forgotten
70. The First Time
71. Aging
72. Soldiers
73. Justice
74. Tread Carefully
75. One False Step
76. Connection
77. Mess
78. It Can't Be
79. In Due Time
80. Awake
81. Delicious
82. Fallen
83. Trickery
84. Around the Bend
85. Well Traveled
86. Choices
87. Surplus
88. Rough
89. If
90. Friend
91. Found Not Lost
92. Spiral
93. Deep
94. I Could Have
95. Desirable
96. Resentment
97. Build Up
98. Inch by Inch
99. Dilemma
100. Blue Sky
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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Jan 22, 2020 23:10:18 GMT -5
1. Injured - Kyllian
Before Present Day “Kyllian, I’m giving you another quarter moon, but after that, the leg must come off.” As always, Kyllian ignored the warnings of his healer. Before him, splayed out under the pink tinted light from the rising sun, Kyllian’s left front leg looked sickly pale and weak. His deep orange fur and dark brown tabby markings had long since faded, and shadows could no longer hide the gruesome, infected wound and dying flesh that dominated his limb. Bright pink cherry leaves fluttered by on a gentle wind as the healer poked a claw into the decaying flesh of Kyllian’s leg. “Kyllian, you must make a choice soon. If this is left alone to spread, you will die.” “Can you guarantee that I will be allowed back into the vanguard?” The healer sighed. “We’ve been over this, Kyll-” “If the answer is the same,” Kyllian growled, his bright green eyes flashing with ire. “Then keep your dirty claws off my leg.” With a grunt, Kyllian stood, using what muscles he had left in his leg to raise it off the ground. The healer’s gaze softened with sympathy and uncertainty. And, maybe even, a little anger. “You would kill yourself for your pride?” Kyllian limped past the trailing vines that enclosed the healer’s den from the outside world, blinking rapidly as the full force of the sun warmed his face. “Pride has nothing to do with it.” “Then why do you refuse treatment?” Kyllian paused as the earth fell away from him, a sharp, craggy cliff greeting him. Once again he was reminded of that moonless night only a half moon ago when he had been standing on this very cliff, ready to lay down his life to protect the sanctuary that had been his tribe’s home for countless generations. He twisted around to face the healer, noting the frustration in their eyes. “Tell me, what use is a warrior if they only have three legs?” The healer opened their mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “You can still hunt.” “Barely,” Kyllian snapped, his ears twitching as a breeze floated a few cherry blossoms past them. “You said yourself early on that if it had been one of my hind legs, I would have still been able to learn how to hunt and fight without too much struggle.” “And that’s still true,” the healer agreed, raising their white dipped paw to gesture at his decomposing leg. “Cats who have lost a hind leg have a much higher quality of life after treatment, but others who have lost a front leg find it nearly impossible to do strenuous activities. The only exception being their age. If you were a season younger, I say you would have had a much easier time after amputation.” Kyllian growled at the healer’s practical tone of voice. “Well, there you have it. I would be of no use to the vanguard, the scouts, nor the guards. Being a warrior is all I’ve known, Healer. If you take my leg, my future is gone.” The healer sighed, realization and understanding playing out on their features like an open winding stream. “Apologies, Kyllian. If there was anything else I could do, I would do it. But I’m telling you now, you let this infection spread and you will be of no use to anyone.” Kyllian glanced down at the grey flesh of his leg, his stomach churning at the sight of it. The tom wasn’t stupid. He understood the risk. But he felt he was being backed into a corner, and due to his limited upbringing, he had no skills other than those he had learned with his claws to use to get out of this situation. Besides, if a healer told him there was nothing else to be done, who was he to wait around for some miracle? He didn’t believe in such things anyways. “Give me the night, Healer,” Kyllian finally said after several lengthy moments of silence. “I’ll be back in the morning to let you...to let you help me.” The Healer’s eyes closed in visible relief. “I shall prepare then. Thank you, Kyllian.” Kyllian didn’t respond. He simply turned and limped away down the winding path, the pink blossoms riding on the spring wind seeming to weep with him for the future he was about to lose forever.. . . That night, Kyllian rested outside his personal den at the base of the cliffs, his injured leg half submerged in the bubbling spring leaking out from the rocks. He had started doing this ever since the feeling in his leg began to go numb, hoping that maybe the water would bring some life back into his flesh. Again, he was no healer, and had no knowledge of the skills needed to treat others, but he still did this hoping for something, anything. He could be further up the cliffs now, gathered with the rest of his small tribe around a generous prey pile, sharing stories and recent news from the other local tribes, travelers and outcasts. But he hated the way he was stared at these days. Sympathy, curiosity, disgust and fear...out of all, the sympathy was the worst. What did any of his tribemates have to be sorry for? Their livelihoods, their safety, security and freedom was what he had fought for. This injury was simply a mark of that; a sacrifice that he knew he might one day make. He just wished that sacrifice hadn’t come so soon. “Are you the warrior Kyllian?” Kyllian raised his gaze from his leg, searching the eerie darkness of the evening twilight until he found a pair of crimson tinted amber eyes staring back at him. “Yes. Who is asking?” Kyllian replied, easing his limb out of the water. “A friend,” the stranger said, taking a few steps forward until their features were highlighted. Kyllian hastily got to his paws, his breath quickly leaving him as he felt the stranger's presence begin to close in on him. “I have no friends with scars like those,” Kyllian growled, struggling to keep his weight balanced. The stranger, a dark tortoiseshell she-cat with thin fur, smirked, the skin around her muzzle pulling and tugging on thick scar tissue that laced up from lip to eye lid. “I would think you would have had your squeamishness squashed by now, Kyllian.” “What do you want?” He snapped at her, his ears laying flat against his skull. The she-cat’s smirk dissipated, her expression becoming more relaxed and almost bored. “I’ve come to ask you that question, actually,” she said, her intense irises zeroing in on his useless leg hanging from his shoulder. “Because the death I smell on you does not have to be the only trail you follow.” Kyllian, now more than ever, wanted to crawl into his den and never come back out. Who this she-cat was, how she knew his name and the state of his injury...it all terrified him. “I have a healer who will tend to me,” he hissed, starting to turn away from her. “Now get lost before I shout for the guards.” “No, no,” she countered. “I know the healer will not save you from the death you are trying to avoid.” Kyllian twisted and opened his mouth, ready to tell this unsettling she-cat off, but he froze at her words, the words he was burying deep inside his heart. Leg or no leg, I will die tomorrow. I will die a cowardly, shameful warrior’s death. “How do you know so much about me?” Kyllian finally asked, deciding to humor this she-cat along with his own deep, dark curiosity. The she-cat stepped closer until she was directly on the other side of the spring, her amber eyes churning with some complex emotion Kyllian couldn’t properly name. His best guess; it was fear mixed with hope. “I am a warrior, like you Kyllian,” she said. “I too, have suffered from grave injuries that prevent me from being whole.” She paused there, her eyes shifting to more scars that peeked up from her chest and vanished into her stomach. “There are others like you and I who are searching for a...cure, if you’d like to call it that. I am just a messenger for this group. It’s my job to find cats who have not yet given up on alternatives to their situations.” A spy? Kyllian realized, now feeling foolish ontop of being thoroughly skeptical. She must be a highly skilled one to get through our tribe’s lookouts. Unless she brought more of these ‘messengers’ with her? “You’re a recruit,” he summarized, his ears twitching as they relaxed from their tense positions against his skull. “But what I still don’t understand is, why me? I am terminal. If I don’t get my leg removed within the next quarter moon, the infection will spread to parts of me that can’t be chopped off.” “True,” she agreed. “In normal circumstances, you would be a lost cause...but what if I were to say to you that we have recently found a cure? And all we needed were skilled, dedicated warriors such as yourself in order to obtain it.” Hope-a small, faint flame-ignited in his chest. “It’s your choice, of course,” she continued, her eyes glimmering with a smug, knowing look. “If you agree to come with me, I will tell you all you need to know about the mission-” “Go on,” Kyllian growled, tucking his rotting limb into his stomach. “Tell me everything.” . . . 2. Sinking - Qotho
Before Present Day Again, Qotho was being hunted. He could sense their excitement like one could taste rot, and he could feel the vibrations of their paws hitting the ground like a small rumbling earthquake trying to rip the foundations of the earth apart. Qotho could evade them if he wanted to; he could run far away, but he didn’t wish to.
Qotho’s claws were tugged on in his effort to round the corner of a large boulder overgrown in moss and slippery with moisture. Around him, the sounds of gurgling water and bird song persisted despite the bloodlust that followed him.
The sound of claws scraping rock alerted him that one of the hunters had caught up to him. With a quick intake of breath, he spun and switched directions, diving underneath a natural tunnel in the rock and vanishing from the hunter’s view.
A distinctive hiss of frustration echoed through the rock, and Qotho couldn’t help but smirk at the pursuer’s frustration.
Light filtered into his eyes as he sprinted out of the other end of the tunnel and into the sunlight. Ahead of him another moss-drenched boulder stood tall, but a shadow fell over him as he attempted to run past it.
“Found you!”
Lush green grass smashed into his nostrils as a heavy weight landed on his shoulders and back, forcing his limbs to fold beneath his body. Qotho let out a shocked grunt, impressed by the cleverness of these cats.
“Hurry, I have him!” A distinctive she-cat’s voice yelled above him.
Qotho could sense at least two more sets of paws rushing into the area around him, but he did not panic, nor did he try to shove off his attacker.
“Did you knock him out, Robin? He isn’t moving,” a tom’s voice spoke.
The cat presumably named Robin tensed above Qotho, taking offense to her companion’s comment. “Of course not! He’s just...um, well I honestly didn’t think I would be able to catch him at all so I have no idea what to do now,” Robin stammered.
Qotho kept in a laugh, sensing the she-cat’s hair triggered nerves beneath the bravado.
“The legend says he will reveal the secret of immortality once those worthy of the prize catch him,” the third cat said, a she-cat whose paw steps came closer to where Qotho was pinned. “Let him stand, but stay on guard. He is a god after all.”
Right, Qotho was no more than a target to these cats. What right did he have to laugh or be amused by them?
The weight of Robin’s body left Qotho, and finally he could remove his face from the damp grass and dirt. But he found that he didn’t want to.
“Um, excuse me?” Robin began, her voice still wavering as she spoke to him. “I am-I mean-we are here to obtain immortality from you, Qotho, the Giver.”
There it was: hope; hope in Robin’s trembling voice, in the anxious silence of her companions...in Qotho’s heart.
But, Qotho could still sense the despair like a lingering rot in the air.
“That is not my name,” Qotho said, slowly stretching up to his full height.
“You’re...not Qotho?” Robin asked, crestfallen.
“Then why lead us on in this pursuit if you are not him?” The tom questioned, his claws scraping against stone.
Qotho lifted his head, laying his gaze upon his hunters for the first time. “I am Qotho, but I am no giver.”
It was a slight twitch, the faintest feeling of unease that trembled across their facial features, which communicated to Qotho how this interaction was going to end.
“I am Qotho, the Thief. I have no other title,” Qotho growled, taking a step toward the hunters. At the same time, they all stepped back.
“Wha-what are you?” The unnamed she-cat hissed, her brown pelt bristling.
The tom beside her snarled in terror, his grey tabby tail tucked between his legs. “I’m not staying to find out!” The tom then turned and sprinted away from his group, leaving nothing but a thick fear scent in his wake.
Robin was frozen, confusion and uncertainty shining in her bright amber eyes.
“If you look upon me with despair,” Qotho said, “then you are not worthy.”
Robin’s companion screamed, her whole body shaking with fright. She turned and ran as well, leaving Robin to face Qotho alone.
Robin’s gaze wavered as she looked upon the god’s face. She was battling with herself, and in this Qotho smiled at last.
“It has been a long time since I’ve seen a mortal struggle with my appearance,” Qotho commended the she-cat, his dark tail twitching. “If fear did not grip you so, you would be worthy to take what you have come here for.”
Qotho turned away from Robin, sparing her the sight of his face. “I am leaving now.” He said to her. “I would suggest following your companions. The terrain here acts like a maze and they will become easily lost.”
“Wa-Wait!”
Qotho paused, hope flickering like dew on a blade of grass in the sunlight.
“Is this how the other gods punished you?”
Qotho turned to Robin once more, but her reaction was the same. She cowered in fear.
“Go home, Robin,” Qotho said quietly, surprisingly gentle. He turned his head away again. “You will be blessed with longevity, but nothing more. That is all that I can...that is all that I can give.”
Robin gasped, her voice thickening with emotion. “Th-thank you!” And after a momentary pause, as if she was waiting for him to turn around again, she fled after her companions, not looking back as Qotho’s gaze followed her.
Despair filled him like water filling a lake, like dirt falling into a ravine, like sand darkening the sky. Despair was like sinking, Qotho supposed. His fellow pantheon of gods had never experienced the feeling, but it was all too familiar to him.
It had been a very long time indeed, since someone like Robin had found him. And he knew it would be a long time yet until someone could look beyond the despair he wore on the surface of his skin.
. . .
3,000 years later
During Kyllian's time
Again, Qotho was being hunted, but this time his pursuers were different.
They were a large, organized group. A small clan of cats dedicated to trapping him. He had been keeping up with their movements for many moons, interested in their strategies and reasons for wanting to capture him. None of the rationalities were new, but the methods...the methods worried him.
The group had been recruiting like-minded felines; cats with various complications from an injured leg to a destroyed womb. Some-like most he had encountered-were simply afraid of death and wanted the immortality Qotho’s capture promised. But surprisingly, most had legitimate and unselfish justifications for hunting him.
And so, he had given them the respect they deserved: he ran like death was following.
At first, he had welcomed the group’s efforts, but now with it becoming more like a cult than a morally bound mission, Qotho was beginning to wonder if any of the other gods had taken notice.
And Qotho was considering stopping the hunters in their tracks.
“They wish to devour you with that many wishes, Qotho,” a voice called to him.
Qotho looked up from the stream he had been staring into while pondering his predicament. Above him perched on the branch of an old oak tree, was Rath, his...brother of sorts.
“I fear they mean to trap me permanently,” Qotho replied, standing up from his crouched position. “The promises they have given their followers demands it.”
“I’m here to confirm it,” Rath said, his deep red and brown spots gleaming in the sunlight. “I have a spy among them who has managed to gain acceptance into their inner circle. They mean to place you in a prison, Qotho.”
Qotho sighed, his blue and amber eyes dropping back to the lazy stream. “They can try.”
Rath growled. “When our siblings bound the secret to immortality into your flesh, this wasn’t what they had in mind as punishment.”
“Oh? No eternal imprisonment where those both worthy and unworthy could take from me what they desire without my consent? Isn’t that what it has always been?”
Rath’s eyes shuddered at Qotho’s cold tone. “They didn’t mean for-”
“Stop saying ‘they’, Rath!” Qotho snapped, his fangs flashing. Bony protrusions peeked out where his cheek fur should have been as he snarled. “You were there, and you did nothing! You might as well have sentenced me to this punishment yourself with your silence.”
Rath appeared at Qotho’s side then, no sound of step or breath coming from the immortal god. “And for that...I will always be guilty,” Rath amended. “But let me help you now. Let me take your side now.”
“No,” Qotho hissed, glaring into Rath’s eyes. “You have done enough. Just sit back and watch...as that is what you have always done.”
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Jan 28, 2020 3:22:44 GMT -5
I believe speak for all of us when I say my answer to the poll stands.
But as for feeding your goblins:
Hello, do I see a death cat? o.o
I don't think this cure is the cure ya want, cats.
Something tells me our current main character is not in for a pleasant ride.
I wouldn't trust this mystery she-cat as far as I can throw her.
I somehow want to give her a nickname of Qoth. Why? Because I'm getting creepy Eager Alan Poe vibes right now.
Cures don't come free. Wonder what price this cat is gonna pay.
Theories? Someone's gonna learn a hard lesson. I'm thinking either gets his wish and learns that losing the leg would have been a better option or maybe that losing the leg is better and not taking the offer. I predict hard trials ahead.
I also predict little sleep. I need to away to bed. @.@
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Post by » ѕнαdσω ⚔️ on Feb 14, 2020 21:25:31 GMT -5
I have three books filled with british literature from very far back up until the 19th century I believe. My favorite, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, is actually being adapted into a movie!! o.o'
I think most of my other ones are packed away. I do have a book full of fantasy short stories with such likes as Beowulf and the Fairy Queen ( I think it's called something else. It's about the Queen of the Fairies though! ) I also have books on Irish & Celtic lore, Constellations and their meanings, science and of course the many YA fantasy books lol
I wish I could remember my literature readings.
Paradise Lost, East of Eden, Death of a Salesmen, To Kill a Mockingbird, Snow Falling on Cedars (highly recommended), The Iliad & The Odyssey...some of it is coming back! xD
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Post by mintedstar/fur on Feb 16, 2020 6:17:27 GMT -5
HEYYYY! I know that one! I loved that book. And is it really? That's super exciting.  Your collection sounds great. I just had to do a bit of a bookshelf cleaning today, so that was pretty interesting. o.o I found a lot of books. Including book one of a trilogy which never got its third book. So there's me being sad about that again. :') Hey, nice! 1984, Fahrenheit 451, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Beowulf, various stories by Chaucer, Hamlet, and then a bunch of short stories, poems, and a couple of short scripts. The list grows, but I haven't gotten to the full length stuff just yet. Currently we're reading poems by Percy Shelly and Lord Byron. Which I'm very amused by, considering the next DW episode has both of them in it. I find the universes timing to be hilarious at some instances. |
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