Local Writer Does Prompts - Shots In The Dark

[Imbion]

i'm gonna do it, i'm gunna do a prompt. origami thread

The Hitlist

the beginning of the end / seek and destroy / satisfied / fortune favors the brave / here's to the fools / trust / way down we go /circling the drain /redemption / we are the wild / "Look me in the eye. Say it to my face." / crawl / bones / equinox /eclipsed / thunder in their eyes / frailties / a space between / the moon is dead / one step at a time / electric gold / breakdown / vulnerability < stone cold / fire away / one the edge of the world / as we knew it / deep / "Do it." / cyan / equilibrium / the eye of the beholder / surface / too many ticks, not enough tocks / breach / thanatophobia / turning pages / she has a wild look in her eyes / from riches to rags / fever / a thousand, tiny little pieces / victory / "Breathe." / vertigo / never speak / cloudy with a chance of catastrophe / survival / raw / starstruck, earthbound / we depend on you / the wolves will always call you back / pine / godforsaken / "I know! I know, okay?" / mine / dead fall / no one, nowhere / shake / glory / ephemeral / hello/goodbye / intricate / end game / shoot for the moon (even if you miss you'll probably float in space for a while). / a lifetime / what do i do? / beings / lost world / obsidian / sleepy head / gemini vibes / thy body is thy temple / amethyst / </error> / how did we get here? / if only for a moment / bring you back down / light / sanctimonious / these walls will build my casket / creeping suspicion / purity / roots like the trees / technicolor / taken /drop / a fire inside it / wash / it will come / beg / petals over their eyes / listen close / throw down your aces / cliff edge / approaching / the last of us / if i could do it again / one more time / finally

please no post - discussion can go in my writing hub

[Imbion]

...And the beginning of something else.

Unfortunately, I was on the side that was facing the end. As the rebels drew in closer, I knew that the end had begun. I never wanted to be here, in this place. Fighting against those who I would call friends. They call me a traitor, and they are 100% correct. I am one.

But, methinks, better a traitor than a puppet for an idealist who has been lost in the sunk cost fallacy.

I wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of humiliation. The truth is, I've been gone from the city for several days. Oh sure, they're pretty sure I am still there, sitting on that throne.

I'll let you in on a secret.

That is just an android who speaks my voice when ordered. When they try to move it, they'll discover the cogs and wires on the chair.

Yes, call me a coward. Because on many counts, that is just what I am. A coward, a traitor...

I've teleported and wandered far away from the place of touchdown. I went into the forest, the one that supposedly nobody ever returns from. I have returned from it several times, however. I can assure you, the trees are my friends and the vines dance with glee when I return.

There is a nice cabin in the woods that has been abandoned for years, when the tales of never returning pierced the ears of those. It was a great fortunate for me, as I now had a modest place to call home.

The smell of moss is a pleasant greeting for me, as well as the sounds of the leaves when I step on them through these woods. The undergrowth is grand and easy to trip on, but it has never done so on purpose to me. The sun barely shines through most days, but when a ray waves to me I am glad to wave back. And although there are no faeries in these woods, I can still hear the echos of their moonlit dances among the rings of mushrooms. Sometimes, I swear I see a forest dragon, even though they are extinct.

The rebels represent progress, yes. And progress is inevitable, I have accepted this. But I really do tire of this endless cycle of the status quo, you know? Humanity isn't all it is cracked up to be.

So as they storm the keep, thinking the end of the end is here for me... I'll just be here in the woods, imagining the strength of the real deal, the real magic, based off of the echos alone.

[Imbion]

A guide to eyes of newts, toes, and other ends - page 52-55

The eye of a beholder has some pretty interesting properties, though the main difficulty is with obtaining it in the first place. Beholders like their eyes attached to their bodies, not used in potions and medicine. They sell for an extremely expensive amount. Demand is high, supply is low.

Extraction of a beholder eye proves to be rather difficult. The eye of a beholder is part of what makes them extremely dangerous, and as such most adventures will go for the eye. It is rare to find one that is in pristine condition and that is completely uncontaminated There are also tales of the eye itself being dangerous, somewhat containing the consciousness of the beholder it is extracted from. Such tales are false, however, and most strange effects that occur are due to mishandling.

In addition, the eye of a beholder is notoriously difficult to prepare for appropriate alchemical use. It is an inherently magical ingredient, making it inherently hazardous. Dry casting may sometimes be triggered during attempts of preparation. In order to avoid this, it is recommended to prepare it with an anti-magic field present.

Preparation typically involves extracting the internal fluid contained within the eye. This fluid can channel magic, and it often used as a base for powerful magic potions. The fluid can also be used as a component in medical cures for psychic curses and ailment. It has many other uses, however, such as in the preparation for litchdom and the creation of artificial beholders.

[There's a few passages that have been manually redacted...]

[Imbion]

Long ago, there was a glorious goddess of light. She wore a beautiful white wedding dress, had extraordinary pale skin, long red hair with numerous highlights, and a broad yet elegant figure. The goddess favored the shine of the sun. As what source of light was more pure than the glow of the sun? The stars were too far, and never quite right.

Although the sun gave the world life, it was also capable of toasting it alive and causing sunburn with too much exposure. The goddess was no different. She gave life and caused mutations, harm - even death.

She also charged a price for her assistance. Those who had called onto her had to become servants. Some even became mindless husks, doing nothing but carrying out her will. Others in the order were freaked out by these husks, but it was well known she did not force the state onto those who did not favor it. Outsiders thought the entire order were brainwashed, however, compliant with the destruction of a will, with the ultimate goal of their cult to become a husk themselves

But despite the judgement of outsiders, the order was content to continue on.

Until they were distracted by a different light. A cold light, but light. The light of the pale lady. She convinced them to become her servant, offering no domination of will and freedom.

The goddess of light was soon forgotten. Forgotten, she went mad. Her benevolence was transformed into vengeance and a gnawing hunger to reclaim the power she once had. Eventually, her mind went blank, empty, with no one to remember and no one to carry her form.

One day, however, someone remembered. Many remembered. There were so many vessels to chose from, now... In her madness and desperation, the light goddess became violent and merciless.

And so, this is how the world was put into an eternal status, to rot away.

[Imbion]

Amelie threw her fist onto her research desk, cursing to herself. Papers were scattered in the furry of frustration, though the door stopper of a book remained in its place, merely blowing shut. She was what could only be described as an inhuman beast in this state, human like only in shape. Her entire body was a shadowy misty black. Her back was covered in a series of long protruding spikes, fading into black smoke.

"There's no cure for her damn state, is there?," she shouted across the room. The creature in a suit and tie seated on the nearby arm chair shook his head. "No, Amelie. Any cure you could come up with would confine her to a fate much worth than what death could deliver. Let her rest. She is nearly a million years old."

Amelie glared at her brethren. "Griffin, you know our kind simply does not die. It is not something that can happen no matter the cost. It is impossible." She flipped back to the page where the discovery laid. She read the words again in disbelief.

"You know what it says. We too can die. It is rare, but every single one of us will die eventually." His voice was stern, but it was hiding a waterfall of emotions and sadness over the inevitable death of his sibling.

"I... I know what it says! I can save her regardless of what some dusty old text says." Amelie stands up and approaches Griffin, hand in a fist. He appeared slightly more like an elf, but one must have been blind to mistake him for one.

"There's nothing we can do for her. I know you were hoping to spend the rest of eternity with her, but..." He lets out a sigh. "We can't help someone who has been marked by The Cure. Sim-"

Amelia punches him in the chin. She grabs Griffin by the neck, throwing him backwards.

"I don't care if we all die eventually. I want to try to at least spare her from oblivion."

He looks at her with a tired expression on his dark face. "Did I say that I was going to stop you from playing with fate? Do so if you wish, but do not blame me if the results make death appealing by comparison."