The Advanced Writer's Club

[eden .]

>> so is there like a legit accepting system like there is in the club or is it just accept anyone that comes in? I'm just curious honest to god .-.

>> the witch in my story has actually been out of the witch society and all things supernatural for the entirety of her life. she's like 5'2'' and has her hair really short, but I mean that's not my ideal witch image. I prefer to think of characters independent of their abilities. a very powerful witch might still be very insecure and very unsure of herself, for example [I base this off of the fact that some of the most smartest people I know that are legitimate borderline geniuses are convinced they're genuinely stupid].
>> my witch world is kind of out - of - the - box a little, I'm hoping. I meshed the idea of "necromancer" with "witch", so basically a witch can raise a person from the dead if they have the skill for it. the body has to be relatively fresh though, and not decaying [unless you want it like that ... ? the smell is terrible though], but once a spirit is pushed back into it [not necessarily the spirit of the body], then it's walking around again. I'm kind of a little proud of this, because I made this person a vampire. in my universe, vampires are actually bound to their witch, because the witch actually keeps their body from decaying further and allows them to, you know, talk and stuff. the witch has to constantly pay attention to the body and make sure it doesn't get too detrimentally ill, but yeah.
>> and then the vampire drinks blood only because they can't produce their own blood therefore they don't have energy to do things. since they're already dead, they don't technically need to breathe, but if they don't have O2 then they're not going to get any ATP [#apbio].
>> and the entire reason that most witches would summon and make a vampire in the first place is for protection. the vampire is not necessarily enslaved to the witch, because some witches are like "w/e do what you want" [although they do have to listen to them without question, depending on the incantation], but the problem arises when the witch dies without releasing the magic or binding the body so the body stays forever frozen in its current state [which is why you'll see vampires in the universe of mine that are from like 1912931 BCE without their witch summoners, although they're super rare; few witches actually do this]. if the witch dies without doing either of those things, then the spirit automatically tries to escape the body--and it does--but the body is still animated [due to the seal or marking a witch will put on the body. this makes it significantly easier to animate the body]. then it becomes a zombie and starts eating people for real, because they still want and need blood but because they don't really have a consciousness anymore they mostly just literally eat people instead of just like carefully drinking blood.
>> so yeah that's me. sorry, I was kind of proud of how I put that all together |:

[princess pudding]

@asian Those on the Semi-Lit+ group are automatically accepted, but everyone else is judged.
I figured this since you've already been judged by your writing as a roleplayer, and it's all the same as a writer. Hope that makes sense. >.< >> Everythings sounds really interesting about your ideals. I think there's a lot more to witches then one image; some prefer the cutesy, funky anime styled, others a modern twist, green & ugly, and the dark magic witchcraft. It's fun to play around with.

[abandoned.]

@rose: call meh pie D:< lol how are you? c; i hear you're getting published?

[abandoned.]

Okay, pie xD. Ah, rumors fly around too much.
I am working on getting published. I'll be sending my story off here shortly when I've completed editing it. I'm almost embarrassed to say that I let people read some of it before I even remotely revised it.

nah, I'd do the same XD
I need to get a move on, on my story ._.
I just don't know what to do with it D;

[abandoned.]

Is there anything in particular that you're stuck with? o3o

just the middle part
it's like all these decisions
they're killing me
they can change the whole story and everything -.-

[abandoned.]

Ahh, well. Maybe you can try to revisions? Branch the story off and take it down two separate paths, that way you can decide which path you ultimately like better c: it's twice the work load, but can be beneficial I suppose.

you can read it if you want c:
the link is in my sig--burning willow

i'll send you more info through pm ^^

[Artesian]

@Cider - Nope, not a joke. Verruca is a wart. Of course, a lot of fairy tales mention carbuncles as a type of precious stone (usually garnet or ruby), and apparently, a carbuncle is also an enormous boil. So.

@ Tide - I'd be interested in reading it over. :3

[princess pudding]

Okay, I'm creating a short list of possible names.
Please tell me which one you like best, because I'm stumped.
If you have any ideas, let me know. I'm looking for a funky, little girl sort of name.

Veruca {maybe...maybe not xD}
Veronica
Maeva
Marigold
Lacie
Luna
Mae

[abandoned.]

Okay, I'm creating a short list of possible names.
Please tell me which one you like best, because I'm stumped.
If you have any ideas, let me know. I'm looking for a funky, little girl sort of name.

Veruca {maybe...maybe not xD}
Veronica
Maeva
Marigold
Lacie
Luna
Mae

veruca
maeva
marigold [not much, but perhaps]
mae

[Make_a__Scene]

Username:
Chemical Blonde
Nickname:
Scene, Chemical, Sofa
Writing Preferences:
Poet, Novelist, Role Player
Example:

“Another one of your suicide attempts, Matty?”
“No…”

Matty twisted the tip of an unnecessarily large knife on his fingertip. He sat against the wall of his treehouse, peering out of the sliver between the planks of wood on the opposite wall. Trickles of moonlight hit his face and the blade. Skinny and Sir Unicorn had followed him up and had now taken to the hobby of interrogating poor Matty.

“Have you noticed that people have become more complex in their measures to kill themselves? It’s like they don’t even want to die. Leaving notes and such.” Matty scoffed at this. “And hardly ever with knives anymore. Where has the poetry gone in the world?”

“Oh, yes, Matty. You are terribly poetic, aren’t you?” If a stuffed animal could roll its eyes, Sir Unicorn would have.
Matty brushed the knife along the tufts of fuzz on Sir Unicorn’s ears. “I get the job done. Stevie isn’t interested in poetics.”

“And so why should you be?”
“I guess I’m not. It was just a question. One that you didn’t answer, by the way.” It wasn’t rhetorical.

“It looks like the stars decided to come out tonight. If I were more selfish I would think that it was for me.” He retracted the blade away from Sir Unicorn and proceeded to idly run his fingers along the thin, sharpened edge.

“Why’s that, Matty?”
“It would be the perfect night to kill myself. Crisp air, dimly blushing stars, and a nearly full moon. Can you imagine the way my blood would shimmer on such a night? Something new in this drab little castle.” Matty paused to share a soft little chuckle with himself. “You two would be the only ones to see my beautiful liquid rubies, I suppose, seeing as how human dirties seem to find me so appalling as it is. But I’m sure someone else would notice their dear crazy neighbour’s been awfully quiet lately. Then again, maybe not.”

“Liquid rubies?” Sir Unicorn scoffed. “Matty, we know that you’ve seemed to misplace your mind, but it doesn’t mean you have to quote teenage poetry.”

“I apologize that my ranting isn’t up to your standards, Sir Unicorn,” Matty rolled his eyes as he slid his boots forward and stood up, gripping the hilt of the blade as he did so.

“No suicide tonight, Matty. Just discussion of the matter?”
“I don’t have anything better to do, Skinny.” He turned to face the cutout that acted as a window, leaning his forearms on the ledge and sticking his head out of the smelly treehouse into the smelly air of the city. “Besides, it’s something that happens to consume the majority of my thoughts… most of the time.”

“So why not try again, Matty?”
“Do you realize how many times I’ve tried? I get tired of it; I need to take breaks. Suicide attempts take a lot out of a person. I’m so good at taking the lives of others, why can’t I seem to ever succeed in taking my own?”

“You don’t own a gun. A gun would greatly increase your success rate.”
“I’ve tried a gun before; some guy was trying to mug me. I thought I’d save him the trouble and kill myself with his gun. I was feeling generous that day. But the stupid thing didn’t have any bullets. That lying bastard… He had the pleasure of contributing to Stevie’s art gallery.”

“Don’t give up on guns! You’ve only tried one! You can buy your own and load it yourself; that will guarantee your suicide!”

Matty didn’t answer, concentrating instead on stars that looked like pinholes in the dark sky.
“Don’t listen to him, Matty. He only means to manipulate you; he doesn’t want your best interest.”
“Go. Both of you.” When he heard neither of them budge, he glanced over his shoulder and sneered. Skinny instantly melded away, becoming the shadows once more; Sir Unicorn grumbled out profanities as he surprisingly obeyed.

Matty turned back to the outside, the navy sky and the diamond dust against it. Stars.
“Thank you…” He breathed out, lowering his head and squeezing his eyes to stifle the tears.

Here

I’ve been here before
Cobwebs hang down from the roof,
Drape down from the corners like thin clouds,
The fog of fall
The whispering light of the chandelier
Mimics the dim sun
As it illuminates its wooden world
The walls creak and groan like the most tormented of souls,
Or the most feral of beasts
And when the wind comes whistling
Through, dust showers down from the sun chandelier,
Snowing upon the jackets that the pieces of furniture wear
My lungs fill with the sweet scent
Of dampened wood. The floorboards are swollen and soft,
And they feel like winter’s fallen morning leaves underfoot
Out the dirty windowpane is the city,
Sturdy and tall, mocking with its chattering people
And puttering cars
But the walls chatter here,
And the…
Flames lick the curtains
Fire dances and cackles, eating the walls as they moan in pain
The cobwebs lift and dry heat replaces cool
Orange light overwhelms the dim glow of the chandelier
And the ceilings that have so long been threatening
To collapse finally give into the waves of hot gravity
Ash and cinders fill my lungs, and I am gone
But…

I’ve been here before
The low clouds of fall hang, cobwebs from a ceiling
The blushing sun illuminates the woodsy world,
Set like a chandelier in the sky
Mockingbirds and blackbirds cry,
Teasing the most tormented of souls
Ridiculing the feral beasts
Snow showers down through the whistling wind,
Melting on the winter jackets of the cold-brave animals
My lungs fill with the sweet scent
Of the dampened bark. Underfoot there are leaves,
Swollen and soft, like the floor of a forgotten building
Through the branches and leaves is the city,
Small on the horizon. It trembles in comparison to
The tall and sturdy trees
The dimly glowing chandelier sun is replaced
With a harsh ball of fire
The low clouds lift and melt away into the sky,
Leaving only a sharp, hot blue
The clatter of awakened beasts fills the trunks,
And branches collapse from the eaves
In the overbearing sun
My lungs fill with emptiness,
Because that place where I’ve been before, is
Gone.

Links to stories / roleplays:
[x][X]
Other:
I am male; please use masculine pronouns