[Galipaygo]

username; Galipaygo
name; Astre
prompt; (500 word max)
extra(s); (optional) res

[rustyroxy]

Res

[endless shelter;;]

username;
name;
prompt; (500 word max)
extra(s); (optional)
mark

[~Levi~]

Are We Alone?

Art Work

username; ~Levi~
name; Chive
prompt;
Chive always dreamed of the stars. Sitting on the mountainous outcrop, watching the falling stars, shining like fireflies and leaving wakes in their path, Chive thought to herself how It be to live amongst the stars. People do live there, among the stars now, endlessly traveling wherever ones whims take you. Perhaps one day Chive could go up to. Exploring the ocean of darkness, scattered with burning flowers for suns, clouds of glitter or galaxies and whole new worlds to explore. But for now Chive was grounded with the cold granite, splattered moss and wind-beaten pine trees. It wasn’t a bad life, the wind up here was free and the eagles and owls soared in the sky, there were endless hidden paths to follow and hidden valleys with secretive rivers. The were elusive glades of rare]
wild flowers in spring, with bees that visited each of them with a constant buzz and does with freckled fawns, hammering woodpeckers and slinking foxes. But it was nothing compared to the rainbow of colours above, unnatural shades of pink, and the deepest ebony to contrast with the palest of golds, teal and navy blue swirling together. All illuminated by stars, a map of pathways that can tell you the direction, season and day. They called sailors home and directed ships to ports. But beyond those familiar constellations and skies, there would be the unknown. The undiscovered.
extra(s); (optional)

[ultimate writer.]

Res

[Olive;]

Res - fable/nursery rhyme? of a person who spent all their time staring into the sky and then they tripped... applies it to life
I remember this story vividly but I can’t find it for the life of me help

[cherubim]

username; vogelbiene
name; rúni
prompt;

the sky was endless. space was desolate. the universe was-

you tap your chin in contemplation, brows pulled together with a scowl on your face; your classic 'thinking face'. your pen is poised, ready to finish that sentence. (but alas, all creativity has fled your paws.)
with a small growl, you scrunch the paper up in front of you, glaring out into the night sky. your window reflects the candlelight on your desk, and soon enough you're staring at yourself.
it's crazy, you think, that in all technicalities, you're part stardust.

you are rúni; a poet, a philosopher, a strategist.

war was never supposed to come to you and your peaceful days, but you suppose it's something that simply happens - something you cannot control. and thus, you find yourself with sleepless nights and the smell of parchment and ink ground into your nose. you find yourself wielding a weapon you never thought you would ever even see let alone touch. you find yourself staring at the stars for guidance rather than for poetic inspiration.

but you remind yourself, through your bloodshed and accidental losses, that you're part stardust. part star. part hope.

and while you give yourself hope, so do you unto others. you are a beacon of light - a star in the never-ending dark that is helpless war.

you are rúni; a poet, a philosopher, a strategist.

but with that hope comes despair on your end. with the weight of so, so many troops on your shoulders, you start to count the losses. add them up, one by one, cursing yourself with every man that is struck down. no one knows your struggles, nor do you want them to. this is your burden, and only you are to know of it. it is your duty as a star, is it not?

but some days it is hard to carry on with such a weight, especially when multiple good soldiers (who you know well, who have families at home) are taken away.

in the end, it always comes back to you; the poet, the philosopher, the strategist.

which is why now, after you have angrily discarded your attempt at poetry, that you feel guilty. you're not trying hard enough - not planning enough.

your eyes drift up to the stars once again, candlelight reflecting on the whites of your eyes. tracing the invisible lines between constellations, you remind yourself -

you are rúni; a poet, a philosopher, a strategist.

you are rúni; a beacon of hope.

418 words.

[sobble]

the song “venus ambassador” immediately came to mind... so i might write something based off that!

[Esther~]

mark

[Tjebb]

username; Tjebb
name; Maci
prompt;
Maci stared up into the stars, watching for constellations. She always believed that once someone that was loved died, they would live in the stars. When her sister passed away, she saw the constellation of Orion. Her sister was telling her to stay strong, and to keep going no matter what was thrown in her way. Maci looked at the stars again to see a swan, a beautiful creature. Tears filled her eyes. She went back inside and decided to go to sleep. The day her sister died, it was the day the Aurora borealis *northern lights* occurred. Every day, if the northern lights are visible, Maci will go outside and visit her sisters grave, as she believed in the stars and the sky.