[Namida_☾]

mark<3

[cαtαstrσphe]

MARK :D


and Steve for good measure.

[VanossGaming]

Mork

[VoidRinkusu]

Glad to see y'all are coming back! mark

[quiixxy]

mark :0

[Tea...]

Mark!

[SkyGold]

The Shadow Flitz Event is now open!

It will be open for two weeks and will end on May 16th at rollover.

Each day prompt answers will be counted and prizes will be given out. Flitz will be revealed as they are won.
Be sure to get to the effort level you want, word count prompts will be rounded up if they are within 50 words.

If you don't have any flitz, feel free to answer the non-owner's prompt to get a guaranteed first flitz.

[friggin' foxes]

username: friggin' foxes
prompt #: 1
flit used: aeyla
response: to touch a star, to find true love, for the environment to heal.

[VanossGaming]

username:VanossGaming
prompt #: Non Owner
flit used [non-owners write n/a]: N/A
Response: I wrote this in the third person if that's okay!

It all started with a little bit of hope, a strong sense of belief, and the want to make a new friend. This wasn’t the first time that Vanoss had tried to tame a new species before. The biologist had searched the lands far and wide for many years, observing and tracking down the elusive Shadow Flitz. It was a calm May evening. The stars were out, flickering brightly as moonlight brushed gently over the land. It was nothing like Vanoss had ever seen. That’s how he knew that this night was going to be special. This would be like nothing he had ever experianced before. He’d set up his camp near a river, just a hop, skip, and a jump away from where he was now, map on hand in case he got lost. The call of of several wild animals rang through the night as the biologist crouched down into the tall grasses. Now if you’d asked, Vanoss couldn’t tell you how long he’d been tracking this particular group of Flitz. The four legged Flitz were notorious for being ridden and used as family pets in places like his own town. Vanoss had never been lucky enough to grow up with one, so to see them in the wild was a treat all it’s own. The man had grown up hearing about them and learning about them and finally decided to go out to study them. He’d heard from a good friend that this very place was a hotspot for the carnivorous creatures and that they could often be seen training their young or stalking their prey. So he waited, crouched in that grass, for any sign of the creatures. Once or twice he thought he heard a noise similar to one of mourning he’d heard in a past observation expedition. This was his chance! The man raced through the grasses, all caution he’d previously taken out the window. He tore past trees, stumbled through lakes, and tripped over a bush or two until finally, he was close to the source of the sound. Vanoss pushed his way through a bit of thick leaves before emerging into an open clearing. The moonlight shined in through the clouds to illuminate the Flit laying in the grass, utterly alone. The song of mourning rang true from it’s maw, announcing to the world it’s problems. Vanoss realized that the song of mourning was because the Flit was lonely. It didn’t seem to have any partner or baby Flitling alongside it. Had it been kicked from it’s group? Raised on it’s own? He didn’t know. What he did know was that this Flit needed a friend. Vanoss eased himself into the clearing carefully. The Flit took notice, jumping to a standing position, looking ready to run. Vanoss extended his hand in a closed fist, much like one would do a cat and whispered to the creature.
“It’s okay buddy. I’m not here to hurt you. I know you’re sad little one.”
The flit visibly calmed, taking a tentative step closer to him.
“There you go bud! Not so bad hmm?” Vanoss cooed as he kept his stance.
The Flit chuffed and approached, nuzzling his hand.
“How about you come and stay at my camp tonight. We can see where this takes us tomorrow.”
The Flit almost seemed to nod, pushing it’s head gently against Vanoss’s fist as if to say “well get a move on!”.
Vanoss pulled out his map slowly as not to spook his newly acquainted Flit friend and pointed to the location of his camp on the map.
“That’s where we’re going buddy. It’s not too far.”
The two took the time to trot back to the camp in silence, the Flit following behind Vanoss the whole way. The biologist that night settled into his sleeping bag upon reaching the camp, tired after a long day’s hunt. The flit stayed cautiously outside of the tent, alert for danger.
“Thanks for looking out for me. I can assure you that everything is going to be fine.” Vanoss spoke to the Flit outside.
Sure enough as the sun rose the next morning, Vanoss awoke to a very big Flit head laying right on his chest to greet him in the morning. They two knew they had a friend in each other.
[719 words in total]

[paopu]

username: paopu
prompt #: 11
flit used [non-owners write n/a]: Calhoun
response:

In the city by the sea where the people never die, age is a truly strange thing. After all, when people live for centuries, the line between old and young blurs even further. What it youth when some people's wrinkles never fade while their sibling's age so much their bones turn brittle? Over time the concept of age faded almost entirely. Even being royalty, Calhoun has never known how old he was, not exactly. Which is to say, he's not sure how long it took him to start lying. Nor does he particularly remember a first lie. At some point, it became as easy and natural to him as blinking did.

Back then he was Angelo. Back then his daily life meant holding his tongue and waxing poetic about dumb nobles with other dumb nobles. Back then it was pretending to agree with his father's morals. Just smile and nod and keep your head down were the rules he lived by. All of that was a lie, both to them and to himself. It was easier that way after all. Don't cause trouble. Don't question the beliefs you were raised on. He just had to continue existing as is and one day he'd be given everything. When his father chose to move on - for in the city on the sea where the people never die, choice was valued immensely - he'd be king. Or his sister would be queen. Until then it was waiting time.

But time is long. The more time that passed the more greedy his father's ambitions became. He spoke of spreading his influence and growing their armies. He spoke of infecting the world with whatever the thing keeping their city alive was. He spoke of how, if they ruled, then they could share their gifts with the world. Angelo saw the problems with this. He could not advocate for something so dangerous. Overpopulation. Not to mention the idea that their way was objectively better. Or that using that to justify invasion was corrupt. Yet, he kept lying. It got harder and harder every day. With each day the urge to speak up, to say something, to call out his father's terrible actions grew. Yet he kept lying. Until, one day, he couldn't anymore. He spoke his truth. His carefully crafted mask finally cracked. He learned that the truth was more trouble than it was worth. His father didn't listen. Angelo took matters into his own hand. Then he ran and started up a whole new series of lies.

He became unrecognizable. Angelo changed his appearance and his speech patterns and everything he could about himself. He became Calhoun, captain for hire, as he fled the city on the sea where the people never die. It was not an easy journey, maneuvering away from the city that had no name and wasn't listed on any map. It was tough, trying to maneuver through the thick fog that seemed to confuse anyone that stumbled into it. He would lie about that later too. Claim it had been smooth sailing from the west.

He even lied to himself. Cal told himself that the fog had worked like it was supposed to. That he couldn't remember his home and his people. Sometimes, he lied so well that he even believed it. On the good days, he had always been Calhoun, Captain of the Kingdom Come. On those days he believed himself to be normal and they felt good. Sometimes he even found himself settling in a small port town and living a life that was normal. It never lasted. His memories lingered in the back of his head, echoing ghosts of the person he had been. Inevitably, usually something would happen that would remind him that he was immortal would awaken that within him. Often times, these reminders required him to run. To lie again and start over a new set of lies.

These days he's gotten very good at knowing his limits. He knows how to stretch his lies and how to make the most of the people and places he visits. He usually leaves before he had to totally start over. The lies become less active. He, in many ways, is no longer lying when he introduces himself as Calhoun. The name Angelo would feel wrong, as would his old titles. The Kingdom Come is indeed his ship. His crew is his crew and, to them, he is exactly who he says he is.

Of course, his business itself is full of it's own lies. Without a doubt smuggling makes up the bulk of his work - whether it be people or items. He's known for being good at his job and also, most importantly, discrete. This has the side of effect of him and his crew frequently dragged into people's various quests or treasure hunts. His entire job deals in secrets, but most of them aren't quite as personal as his usual brand of lies.

Except, now, there's a new set of lies, as he starts to see the signs of his sister starting to make her move. She's been amassing power. Perhaps she wants to follow in their father's footsteps. A storm is coming, but it's easier to lie to himself. To pretend that he doesn't read the writing on the wall. To pretend that it's not his problem or that he doesn't have responsibility here. So he lies. He lies and he keeps being Calhoun and he keeps pushing Angelo deep into the recesses of his mind. If he doesn't that means he needs to do something. To act. To involve himself again. Last time he learned better, but he's starting to think he may not have a choice anymore.

953