Author Topic: Weekly Writing Prompts  (Read 8638 times)

MonsterManic

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #15 on: July 31, 2018, 12:10:35 AM »
Canon: What is Love - Jocelyn Antiqua

Team CASA’s medic had spent the entire day submerged in thought. After the events that had transpired that morning on the rooftop, she’d been unable to tear her mind from replaying that one particular scene over and over. It was serious enough that her normally deft fingers kept fumbling and dropping the surgical needle she was practicing with that day to close wounds, so much so that her medical instructor simply sent her back to her dorm and clear her mind of whatever lingered within.

It hadn't been long since the day her teammate had helped her come to the realisation that she wasn't heterosexual - the news broken in the most blunt way she could imagine. All her life she'd lived without ever once realising who she truly was underneath her everyday facade - so natural to her that even she'd found it life-changing. It'd taken her a while to come to grips with who she was then, but with the help of her teammate she'd been able to take it well in stride. At least, that's what she thought.

Now, though, her fears were becoming less and less unfounded.

She'd become aware of new feelings and sensations since. Feelings which since hadn't died down over time, but rather built itself up stronger and  stronger, like a spark of life emerging from whence there once was nothing but a void. It had subsequently grown ever stronger by the day, transforming from a flickering, dim ember into a roaring inferno. Strangely enough, she hadn't found it unpleasant - it was just that she couldn't place where it was coming from or what it even was.

Throughout her life she'd had to deal a wide range of emotions. Fear early on in her life as she'd looked helplessly at those razor-sharp claws bearing down on her, then sorrow and regret as she realised people were hurt because of her. A repetitive enervation as she undertook rigorous training to ensure that she'd never ever put anyone in that same position again. A sense of loss as her career took her to battlefields small and large, orderly and chaotic, but all full of the horror called death. Equally, she'd had her share of joy as she passed her Beacon Entrance Exam. A unshakable determination and ardour as she threw herself into her studies. A sensation of achievement when she'd completed her team's initiation, exhilaration at their success.

None of that even came close to being what filled her heart.

The girl opened the door to their dorm, being greeted with a familiar view of her teammate's possessions, living spaces and the comforting scenery of Beacon's campus grounds beyond the wide-open windows. In contrast, all the girl's conflicted mind registered was the plain, delicate vase on the windowsill and the exquisite hyacinths resting within. Crossing the room with dainty, light steps, it was as if she was a bee drawn to the sweet nectar of the flower, or a person attracted, irresistibly, to their loved one -

Jocelyn was snapped out of her dream-like trance. Looking down at her hands, she'd cradled the vase to her bosom with all the tenderness of a new-born baby. The delightful smell of the flowers drifted upward, aided by the soft gust of wind - drawing memories from within Jocelyn's mind to the forefront of her conscience - their first intimate contact during their initiation - how addictive it felt to be cushioned while flying by her - the day when she was gifted with these flowers by that certain someone - the sun bathing her in a goddess-esque glow like a halo, illuminating her like a heavenly apparition -

The faintest of smiles floated to her soft lips, accompanied by a zephyr-like breeze caressing her cheek.
Beacon: ShowHide

Setsuna Antiqua - First Year Leader, Team ASTC - Chivalrous Shield

Tina Allan - First Year Member, Team ATLA - Twin Sharpshooter

Tieren Augus - First Year Student - Emotional Berserker

Kei Tsz Fung - Fourth Year Member, Team SARK - Silent Duelist

Lunae Terenas - Second Year Student - Unlimited Explosion Works

Graham Dylandy - First Year Member, Team LLGD - Technological Samurai

Jocelyn Antiqua - First Year Member, Team CASA - Combat Medic

Yu Nanhai - First Year Student - Lone Survivor

Haven: ShowHide

Rachel Jonquil - First Year Student - Spirit Summoner

Others: ShowHide

Prof. Ferus Talandar - Grimm Specialist Teacher at Beacon - One Man Army

Emile Antiqua - Former Professional Huntsman - Gentle Giant

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #16 on: August 03, 2018, 01:54:56 PM »
Canon: A Blooming Flower - Hunter d’Azur

Shit.

Halfway through his taxi ride, Hunter had just received lots of colorful texts from his beloved team leader. The message was simple: when he’d come back to his team’s dorm, he’s 90% sure that he’s going to end up dead. Was it his fault though? He felt hungry and decided to take an unsolicited excursion, so what? Yeah, the assignment’s due tomorrow and all, but there’s really no need to rush. After all, he’s pretty sure that he can get it done and still get a passing grade. As he pondered about how dead he’s going to be, his taxi finally parked right next to the market he always visits.

Roaming the aisles for what he wants, his thoughts couldn’t help but come back to his team leader. With his body on autopilot and grabbing a grocery bag that will soon be stuffed with instant noodles, Hunter started thinking more and more about his team leader and their current situation. He’s not sure why their partnership is functional as it is. She’s strict and he’s easy-going. She’s always angry and he’s usually calm. Most of all, she’s kinda racist and he’s a faunus, albeit he is disguised at the moment. Honestly, Hunter’s not too sure why he’s so caught up with his team leader when he can just leave Atlas after they graduate. Yet he couldn’t help but feel pain when he considered that option. In fact, now that he thinks about it, he noticed a lot of other things. He couldn’t stop his fluttering heart whenever they’re together. He couldn’t stop his quivering voice whenever they’re talking. Truly, he couldn’t help but be nervous when she’s with him. Shaking his head of silly and embarrassing thoughts, he notices that he had fully filled up his grocery bag with instant noodles while he was thinking. Hunter should really return some of them but in the end, his desire for instant noodles won over his reason.

Moving to checkout with his cheap items, Hunter’s thoughts returned to his stupid team leader. Why hasn’t he been antagonizing her back for all the pain she’s causing him? He’s the one that never starts the problem but she always ends up ragging on him for it. In fact, he shouldn’t like her! He doesn’t like her stupid smirk whenever she outdoes him, or her stupid prim and proper uniform that fits her in every way. In fact, he doesn’t like her stupid chestnut hair that accentuates her beauty and makes him want to- Wait a second. With a suddenly red face, Hunter tries to clear his thoughts as best he could and goes to finish up his checkout before noticing some flowers nearby. He really should just leave before making a mistake...



”How much are the flowers?”



If it was anyone else, Hunter would laugh. Unfortunately, Hunter is the current laughing stock. He's blushing and full of nerves as he's holding a bag full of instant noodles in one hand and flowers in the other. In fact, getting back into the taxi was a little more embarrassing with the driver smirking at him the entire time. Scooting into his seat and trying to make himself look as small as possible, the taxi starts driving back to the academy. Looking out the window and wishing that he’d disappear because he can’t deal with all the embarrassment, the taxi driver’s rough yet teasing voice cuts through his thoughts.

”Hey kid, you in love?”

Hunter’s face got even more red as he thought about it. Is he in love? Even if he WAS in love with her, it wouldn’t work out. Hunter wouldn’t want to hide anything from her; in fact he’s pretty sure he can’t hide anything from her. Even if it’s the fact that he’s actually a faunus. It would hurt him to hide that from her, but it'll hurt him even more when the fact that he's a faunus destroys their relationship. But maybe it'll work out. In fact, they can even take it slow, maybe to the point where being faunus or racist doesn’t even matter anymore. Finally knowing how to reply, the redness in Hunter’s cheeks faded only to be replaced with a silly looking grin.

”Maybe.”

Returning to the team’s dorm was interesting. Prim looked ready to murder him on the spot until she got flustered when he presented the flowers. In fact, she told him that it was sweet of him to do that! That was a win in Hunter’s book until she forcefully put him into a seat and started lecturing him about the importance of work ethics and properly doing your assignments. As for the rest of his team, they were laughing their asses off at the two with their shenanigans until Prim directed her death glare at them too. Finally, the lecture and death threats were over as the night quieted down once more so that they can finish their assignments…



For the next few months in the team dormitory, Hunter would see the flowers in a rather ornate and charming vase. If you asked him, Hunter wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between the flowers and Prim.

Silly Little Bonus: ShowHide
Canon: Stupid Butterflies - Sovereign LeBlanc

Sovereign couldn’t help it when his heart flutters with Airi around. Her personality is manageable and her appearance isn’t too bad either!

Then she would glare at him and he’d feel like he’d be dead within the next week. Maybe he should just digest the butterflies and look elsewhere for love.

White Fang: ShowHide

White Fang 2nd Lieutenant: Artist - "Funny. When blood is spilled, it looks the same doesn't it?"

White Fang Captain: Blacksmith - "To create, is to destroy. It's that simple."


Vale: ShowHide
First Year, Team ALIA: Iron Silvarious - "You know nothing? Then get out of my way."

F̷̢͕͍̦̥̯̻̪̙ị̯̲̺̱r͏̻͉s̗t̛̻̼̣̞͔̤ ̸͘҉̲̠̖̭͕Y͓̣̣̲e̬͖̮̠͎̙̗͚a͙r̴̝͉̫͜,̺̣̕ ͔͎̰̯͓Ṭ̠̥͢͠ͅe̫͖̲̹̻̙͕͔͢a̺̫̼̝͔̕͠ḿ͚͚̙̪̻̗͚̝ͅ ̧͉̻͖̗̮̼͈͎̀͝Z͕͍̫C̵͈͈̖̯͎̖F̧̘̭͈͚̜R͈͚͖̣̝͔̰̘͈:͎̫̟̩̬̫̹ ̷̠̭͈̘͖͚F̠̟͈̜͍̫̠e͖͓͉͍͞n̵̰̗̘͈̹͞i̙̭̱̻x̵̦͠ ̷̙͈͈̠͎͉̮̺C̵͇̪̠e͕̟̟̙̻r̰̮̟͓̜̪̩u̯̞͉̥ͅl̺̪̝̣͢ę̥̲̹̹̜̼̳̘a͈̭͎͘͝ǹ̸̻͉̳͍͉̘̝ ̴̝̣̼͇̀̕ͅ-̡̼͚̪̱̻̪̙̠ ̖̬̠̠̪͎́"̸̜̙̣̠͚̻̲Ṣ̢̰͎̟͖̥̤ͅt̛̻̘̯̝͇ͅà҉̤͉͖ņ̯̘͚̮d̷͙̭͇̹ ̲̳̗̞͠͡b̞̣̲̪̳̖̯̭͡è̷̳̰̻̤̖͈͓̠h̶͕̦̭͚͎̠͎͜i̶̫͎͜n̵͙̙̹̳d̹ ̢̙̰̙̰́m̢̖̼̺̦͉͇̫̣͎e̼̼̞ͅ,̲͇͍̫̱͜ ́͏̲̯̳͎ͅI͈̣̰͙̝͈͚͢͞ ̛͙͙̤͚̬͜w̧͓̩̙͇͝į̭̦̹̜ͅĺ̙l̺͕̖̻̳̭̙͘ ̵̪̝̜͜p̛͉̺̻͢r̮̙̗͕̞̬o̡͝҉̞͉̖̼̪̪t͖͕ȩ̸̩̳c̹̯̘͓t̙̤̠͎͖̦̯͠ ͇̗͕͉̥y̵̷̮͙̮̭͙̱̪̝ͅo̶͉͈͎͓̮͇͈͍̘u̘͙̣͘͘.̲̖̫̬̦̤̤̀͝ͅ"҉̼̬͕͞

Fourth Year: Noir - "To see nothing, is to truly see the world."

Head of White Fang Investigation Team: Eklipsei Gray - "I bring justice to the darkness in this kingdom."


Atlas: ShowHide
Third Year Vigilante: Sovereign LeBlanc - "For my next trick, I'll make your Lien disappear!"

Professor of Survival Training, Combat Tactics, and Miscellaneous Studies: Hunter d'Azur - "Alright kids, today's lesson is hide-and-seek. Try your best to hide!"


Mistral: ShowHide
Fourth Year, Team CNBR: Arian Reaper - "In battle, only skill matters."

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #17 on: August 03, 2018, 03:35:12 PM »
Canon: A Change in Perspective - Jima Purpora

This isn’t how field trips are supposed to go.

It’d started as a sniffle in the back of the class as their tour guide recounted the story of the battle that once took place on the hollowed ground they’d deserved. It’d been the Greyed War nearly 70 years beforehand, a particularly vicious battle where Grimm had decimated nearly half of both opposing forces before they were able to resume battling. A particularly sensitive classmate of Jima’s had begun to sniffle and cry at the thought of so much death. Her crying had gotten to the boy next to her, eventually forcing the young man towards tears. The overly-enthusiastic tour guide had continued onwards with his particularly gruesome description of the events without concern, and the teacher themselves was too enraptured to notice and put an end to things - so before long, over half the class was quietly sobbing to themselves as they learned of the stories of their ancestors.

And then they’d heard the first howl.

The entire class turned almost-comically to face the far-off woods in the distance. Jima can vividly remember the way all sound was suddenly sucked from the class - the sobbing stopped with shock, the over-enthusiastic tour guide’s babbling had ceased, and even the wind died down. It was like the class had been put into bubble, just listening to that singular, lone howl.

Then the girl who’d originally started crying had started to scream, the hunters-in-training had deployed their weapons, and the rest of the class scattered in a desperate frenzy as they realized it was time to run for their lives.

Some shot off towards the buses that’d taken them there, some towards theles of  building where they’d registered, and some towards the battlefield themselves. There was no strategy or thought to where they ran - the little animal inside all of those eleven year-olds only screamed away, so away they ran.

Then the Grimm came upon them.

Beowolves, Creepers, Ursas, even an absolutely-massive Deathstalker in the distance. The fledgling hunters were fighting with everything with they had, but their inexperience was apparent. They could cut through the Beowolves and Creepers like butter, but the Grimm kept pouring in after the initial wave. And there was only so much ammo, and so many fledgling hunters, and too many of the massive beasts to steadily hold their ground and prevent them from nearing the fleeing school children.

And in the middle of it all stood Jima.

Jima, having already read everything the tour guide had talked about, had been bored out of her mind. Who’s face had gone pale with the first howls, but stood on tippeytoes to crane her neck out over the other children, trying to catch a glimpse of the creatures that were coming. Who’d stayed and stared instead of as they broke from the treeline, running full-tilt towards terrified schoolchildren as they ran every which way. She was vaguely aware of the catastrophic nature of the even as she watched the beginning hunters disappear under piles of Grimm, only to barely be saved by their comrades - the screams of her classmates as a Beowolves’ loping gate caught up to 11 year-old legs. Teachers desperately attempting to herd her classmates, hunters fighting for their lives to defend the innocent, Grimm crawling out of every nook and cranny as they kept coming and coming and coming -

Is this what being in the middle of a war felt like?

She hears a roar, much closer than all the others, and turns to face a massive Alpha Beowolf staring her down. It doesn’t waste a second, diving in with it’s claws outstretched. As Jima watches, motionless, the loudest thing amidst all the chaos her own heartbeat, all she can think is one thing-

This is gonna be the coolest way to die.

And then something without claws collides with her from the side, she catches the flash of a weapon as the Alpha’s decapitates, and as she hits the ground, the world goes black.
Prism Skylark - Beacon First Year, Winged Sharpshooter and Leader of Team CASA (Casanova) #ffffff

Chantou Rou - Beacon First Year, Insect-Eyed Rebel of Team LGGR (Lager) #ff82a4

Albrecht Clodwal - Beacon First Year, White Knight Nice-Guy of Team CNRS (Cinerous) #00a4a4

Azre and Erza Sundown- Shade First Years, Fallen Stars of Team RASB (Raspberry) #fe2d00, #feab00

Jima Purpora - Beacon Third Year, Grimm-Obsessed Scholar of Team PLSM (Plasma) #6e3aa8

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #18 on: August 03, 2018, 10:55:09 PM »
Canon: Nest

Malina was afraid of a great many things, though she would never let anyone know that. Being found out for the a coward was chief among them but her own death was very rarely far behind, she hadn't wanted this life of violence in the first place after all, why would she want to put her life on the line every day for people she doesn't know. People she'd never meet. They wouldn't know who protected them, who saved them, they'd facelessly thank her regardless, of course, it was what we are supposed to do when someone else helps us.

She was, truth be told, fine with fighting for the faceless masses but the idea of her losing her own life for them was horrifying to her. The idea that her entire life was all leading up to her bleeding out underneath the paw of some horrid Grimm in the middle of nowhere was… She hated even thinking about it. She didn't want to end her life like so many hunters and huntresses before her, in pain and with no one to save her. She wouldn't end like that, she couldn't, she would live a long life and learn about the mysteries of aura and dust, she would be content with her place in life, not this, not training every day three years into a school designed to turn children into warriors.

... Malina?

Aurelia's soft voice cut through Malina's haze and she blinked twice in quick succession to try and reorient herself. She was in her dorm, safe. Her team had just returned from a mission to the southern Sanus shores, they were supposed to defend the village from a Grimm horde that was spotted nearby.

They had survived but there had been more Grimm in that single night than Malina had seen in the rest of her missions combined. They just… they never stopped coming. They had survived, yes, but they failed. The village was lost, only three others had made it off on the bullhead that her team had called in to escape. Everything about that mission only reinforced the feelings Malina had been bottling up prior, she didn't just think think she would die because of this job, she knew she would. And yet…

Her eyes glanced over the room. Carmine, a wrapping of bandages ran up her right leg. Just beneath the surface of her bubbly, overly cute persona was someone who cared deeply for Malina, someone who had stayed up late into the morning talking her through another panic inducing nightmare.

Candida, a wrapping spun around her head and just barely covered her left, silvery eye. She was abrasive, full of herself, and constantly butted heads with Malina for reasons Malina just couldn't understand but at the same time she was the person who had stood up for Malina's leadership and choices when Beacon interrogated them about the mission. Before that, even, she had been the only member of the team to consistently double check Malina's poor choices, helping her fix them and working with her.

Aurelia, she had it the worst. A wrapping ran down her left arm, leading across her back, and circling back across her chest. She was soft spoken, never made a point to speak her mind unless she needed to but she was one of the two genuinely good people on her team. She had assisted her sister in mostly harmless pranks at Malina's expense, maybe, but she would never push it too far and tried her best to reign Candida in.

... Are you okay, Mal?

Aurelia spoke again, seemingly worried at her prolonged silence. Malina broke eye contact for only a split second and looked to the floor. She was the only one with no injuries. It was something she would normally be proud of, being able to avoid every strike from the enemy, it was something a professional did. The others had all taken their licks protecting Malina or the people of the village, protecting people that mattered.

As she locked eyes with her teammate once more, a thought crystallized in her mind. They were willing to put themselves in harms way to keep her from getting hurt not because she was their teammate or their leader or even their friend. It was because they loved her. They were willing to lay down their lives for her because thought of Malina as more than a friend, more than family. As the thought became fact in her mind, another thought came into focus. She loved them too.

It wasn't romantic or sexual, but she loved them. She would do anything for them to keep them from harm. She needed to do everything in her power to keep them safe.

She would kill for them.

Yeah,” Malina said, “I was just thinking some things over. I think… Yeah, I'm fine.

She would die for them.
« Last Edit: December 18, 2018, 08:48:54 PM by Dr. Gustave »
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #19 on: August 05, 2018, 02:40:14 PM »
The prompt this week is a general writing prompt, write about whatever comes to mind when you view this prompt.

200+ word count (Just don't write a novel.)

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while no being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

There will be a winner this week, the prompt is open until midnight on Friday, going into Saturday, EST. After that, voting will be open for the entirety of Saturday and the winner will choose the prompt for the next week and their submission will be loved to a winners thread.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

Tell me about a time your character broke a promise.
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #20 on: August 06, 2018, 01:30:47 PM »
What-if: A Promise Is A Promise

"As long as I'm standing, you're not getting hurt. That's a promise."



The roaring of grimm, the sound of gunfire and the members of team CASA shouting. Everything around Coconut appears to be a blur, the boy dazed from being struck by an Ursa Major. It's all just a nonsensical mess of color and noise. Then the noise stops as a scream is cut short.

The only thing Coco could see clearly was the falling of blue-green feathers before him. He couldn't tell what had happened. None of them could. Almost mere seconds later, two of them could hear the chilling sound of twisting metal and a crash sending their healer through a tree. The gunfire would halt soon after.

Coconut was still confused. What had happened? How could it end this way? This had to be some cruel joke. A nightmare of sorts. He wanted it to be over already - he could barely lift O.T.N. anymore. This whole thing was just a bad training session or something, he just needed to get some help...




A drop of cold water falling on his nose awakened Coconut.

His eyes fluttered open and the boy looked around in confusion. It took a moment to remember where he was. He had taken refuge under a particularly thick layer of canopy during a rain storm. Despite his better judgement it appeared that he had fallen asleep. The rain had slowed down to a light drizzle. It was time to keep going anyway.

Coconut rose from his position, checking to make sure O.T.N. was still where it should be on his back. He then stepped out from under the tree he had been leaning against, splashing mud over his pants and cloak. That was hardly the worst his clothes had seen.

It would take an hour of walking to get out of the forest. A disused path appeared to be leading to a small collection of cottages. A village. Coconut stopped, checking his coat's pockets; he was running low on food supplies. Risky or not, he needed to make another stop.

As he approached the village he noted the villagers frantically running around, collecting their things and throwing them haphazardly into several carts lined up near the edge of the settlement. They were evacuating.

One of the older men was seemingly overseeing the process. He snapped his head towards the newcomer, a terrified expression on his face. Upon seeing Coconut's gear, a gleam of hope appeared in his eyes.

"A-a huntsman! Thank the heavens! We were just running out of hope!" the man uttered in a raspy voice. "A scout reported a horde of grimm heading this way, and it will be here in an hour at most. None of us are fighters, so..."

"How long do you need?" Coconut asked.

The man blinked and looked back at the villagers. There appeared to be about forty in total. "We will finish packing up soon, but we need more time to get enough distance between us and the horde. Maybe an hour or..."

"I can get you two. Leave some food and supplies, and whatever else you're willing to pay in that house over there," Coconut plainly instructed as he took O.T.N. off of his back and made a couple of practice swings with one arm. He was a bit sore from his troubled rest from earlier, but he'd have to make do.

"...And how will you escape?"

Coconut momentarily stared blankly at the man. He was going to say 'Either I do or I don't', but realized that it was probably not the best move.

"Fair point. If you have a spare horse, just strap the supplies onto it and set it on the far side of the village. Point to me where the horde's coming from, first."



Coconut spent the next twenty minutes setting up his defenses. He hadn't done anything like this in a long time, but he recalled his first mission with CASA. He first utilized his sword as a make-shift shovel, digging out small holes in the dirt, before 'borrowing' some of the fence posts around the village to be used as makeshift spears. It wasn't particularly elegant, but it would buy him time in his retreat never the less.

As he worked, he was approached by a girl - rather, a young woman. The fluffy ears on her head gave away that she was a faunus right away. Although dressed in a somewhat ragged skirt, a dusty beanie upon her head, she was rather cute - caring purple eyes, a slightly angled face making it hard to tell how old she truly was and shoulder-length, blonde hair peeking out from her headwear.

She smiled, giving Coconut a slight curtsy as she approached. Slightly flustered, the boy was unaware of how he should respond, though it didn't seem like she was expecting him to.

"Thank you, hunter. What you're doing is most admirable," she said. The girl was short. Though Coconut was crouching, she was hardly taller than he was - or, maybe, Coco himself had grown quite a bit in the past two years. "Could I know your name?"

Coconut blinked and stood up, towering over her small figure. "Coconut. Coconut Cream."

The girl nodded. "A pleasure, Coconut. I know this may seem odd... But promise you will make it back?" She asked rather sheepishly, looking down. "That... All of us will?"

"As long as I'm standing, you're not getting hurt. That's a promise."

There was a moment of prolongated silence. Finally, the boy spoke up.

"I promise. You can count on me."

The girl nodded again, turning on her heels and skipping towards the carts. Coconut reached a hand out towards her: "Hold on, you didn't tell me your name!"

The girl peeked over her shoulder and gave Coco a cheeki smirk. "I'll tell it  to you the next time we meet!"



The villagers had left little over half an hour ago. Coconut now stood a good ways away from his makeshift defensive line, near the forest he had come from himself. The horde would be upon him any minute now. He was ready, grasping O.T.N. in both hands as he began to feel the ground under his feet tremble. A sensation he had been getting used to - after all, he had become a grimm magnet, plagued by the events of his past. He had become all too familiar with the way Prism had felt - and, for that matter, with Prism's sleep schedule.

The first grimm emerged from the treeline. A row of beowolves and the smaller ursas which had made it to the front of the pack. No more than vermin to Coconut. As the first trio of beowolves pounced at him they were sliced clean in half even with just O.T.N.'s long sword form at play. The following two ursa were skewered upon his blade and used as meat shields against the charge of the third. A swift kick to free his sword, then another set of slashes and the first wave had been cleared.

Then the next wave came. And the next. And the next after that. Five minutes passed, then ten, then twenty, until Coconut couldn't even fathom how long it had been. Each line of grimm was harder to deal with, but it was not as if he hadn't trained for it. If it were just the smaller ones, he could keep the fighting up for at least an hour more.

But it couldn't just be the smaller ones, could it?

As if on que, the treeline began to fall apart as the next wave approached him. Coconut knew he was in for trouble, stepping back and guarding his face as the trees were smashed apart by the massive claws of a large deathstalker. The thing was about the largest he had ever seen, its tail nearly the height of a four story building. Even Golden O.T.N. didn't stand a chance against that thing. It was time to fall back.

A screech from above raised concerns, however. Coconut turned tail in hopes of outpacing the grimm while he still could, but a rain of sharp feathers caused him to go back on guard. Four relatively small nevermores were circling above the village, seemingly taking turns at peppering the ground upon which Coconut stood.

Things were looking grim. If he couldn't make it to his horse, his entire plan from there on would fall apart. He should have pulled back sooner, prepared better - but as always, he had gotten too cocky. That was always the reason, wasn't it? It was always his fault...

No. Fuck that, he thought. He had made a promise - and this time, it would be different. The deathstalker still on his ass, Coconut slapped O.T.N. onto his back and twisted the handle, transforming the blade into its Golden O.T.N. form. He then raised the weapon above his head, grunting as the arrows continued to rain - but few of them could now strike his body.

He leapt over his spear wall, and just in time - the deathstalker had gotten close, but the grimm following it had already passed it. Soon, however, they were met by the fence posts, colored to blend in with the ground around them. At least a dozen perished, trampled by the creatures following them.

The deathstalker did not care, however, as it crushed through the spear wall as if it was no more than just a couple of branches on the ground.

But that was not the only trick Coconut had learned from Amane. With his free hand, the boy reached into his pocket and flicked his scroll.


The beast reeled back as it passed the first pair of cottages, the explosives which Coconut had lined their walls with going off at once, sending rubble and fire dust its way. While it killed a few of the other grimm, the deathstalker might as well had not been harmed at all. But killing it with that wasn't the idea - stopping it in its tracks was.

Coconut used an undisturbed fence post to hop onto the low roof of one of the cottages. He was struck by another barrage of feathers, but that was not a major concern to the lone huntsman. He raised O.T.N. and focused his thoughts, the weapon glowing cream for a moment. He then swung at the air, letting out a powerful slash of aura towards the large grimm. The slash didn't penetrate the armor, but it did exactly what it was supposed to.

It cracked it.

The deathstalker barreled towards the cottage, crushing nearby grimm in its rampage. Cream waited, ignoring the seering pain in his back from the nevermores' constant attacks. He had to hold out just a moment longer...

Cream roared out as he raised Golden O.T.N. over his head and jumped down from the roof just before the deathstalker crashed through it. A downwards stab, if he had aimed it just right... Coconut felt a tremor go through his entire form as the blade sunk into the beast's skull, the creature releasing one last screech before collapsing.

As its body faded, Coconut glanced ahead to see another part of the horde emerging from the woods. The boy was near the horse already - he returned his weapon to its long sword form and cut the leash holding the animal where it was before checking the time. He still had an hour to hold the horde in place and his aura had already dropped below half.

He hopped onto the horse and rode out, holding his blade out in one hand. The nevermored had run out of feathers to shoot - it would be only a matter of time before they would swoop down. Going back into the thick of it would be suicidal.

But a promise is a promise, is it not?



It was late in the evening when Coconut stopped the horse and fell from it onto the ground. His side would be bruised from it later - his aura was completely depleted, as was any energy he had left in him. From a practical point of view, it hadn't been worth much - the villagers hadn't had much supplies to give.

And yet, as he laid there and attempted not to fall unconscious, he saw the girl from earlier before his eyes. He wondered if he would meet her again - if he'd ever learn her name.

No. Suppose it would be better that he didn't.
« Last Edit: August 06, 2018, 01:32:37 PM by Walter »
Razzmatazz Gele - 2nd Year warrior of happiness of Team ____. "Oh, I also like ____! Let's be friends!"

Janna Tarmac - 1st Year tank lady of Team DGTL. "Our job is to protect the innocent, and that's what I do."

Reginald Royale - 1st year snotty brat of team RBLS. "I'm telling father about this!"

Rufus Chocla - 2nd year freestyle rapper of team APRC. "Rap comes from the Soul, don't mess with the Flow, if you can't take no more, don't wait for Encore!"

Anza Burgundy - 1st Year archer of team CRSA. "War eagle, feller!"

Silica Methiviola - Assistant to the Royale Family/Reginald. "Suck my metaphorical dick, nerd."

Coconut Cream - 1st Year pervert of team CASA. "B-before we fight could you just like... nyah once for me?"

Tiber Rostrum - 1st year Bea(k)on student. "*Unintelligible, birdlike gibberish*"

My good ole AMA

Ordelis

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #21 on: August 06, 2018, 10:17:36 PM »
What If: Always - Lumiere-Sans Abril

  "We're friends right? You'll always protect me right?"
The little girl with the pink beanie asked.

We were kids back then, barely knew from right from wrong, completely blind to the cruelty of our choices and what they could do. But that doesn't change what I did.
     Lumiere-Sans Abril, 13 years old. Creative, happy, and carefree, no different to any other child his age. A happy family, plenty of friends, and his first crush. Why was he so smitten by the new girl wearing the pink beanie? Was it the smile? Or the weird flowery smell she wafted? He couldn't explain why but he just wanted nothing more then to be with her.
     So it came as a shock when she asked him "Hey what's YOUR name?"
"L-Lumiere" he never stuttered before. "Can we be friends?" She asked so casually without a second thought. With the initial shock over he replied "Sure!" With a feeling he only felt on birthdays.
     Being so young the boy didn't know what he felt for the girl with the pink hat, but he didn't care, all he wanted was to be with her. They played, they frolicked, and they argued, but they were always together.

"We're friends right? You'll always protect me right?
"Always!"



A mean spirited boy got curious one day, and removed the pink beanie she never took off. Ears, a pair of droopy dog ears, there was no hiding them for all of the world to see, and for them to turn on her like beasts on prey. Atlas, of the four kingdoms the prejudice on faunus run rampant and unashamed. Animal, mutt, savage, disease ridden monster wearing human skin. The scarred girl in pink only looked to the boy for help, it was obvious what the eyes pleaded without words.

  "We're friends right? You'll always protect me right?"

Her pupils shrunk and her mouth hung agape in horror as she realized what he was going to do, nothing. Despite what the boy's heart said, he was only a child, a boy that was raised like any other child of Atlas, a child that didn't know enough about what he felt, a child that simply followed an angry herd that all told him the same thing. They are less then human. She lied to you, she never told you what she was, she is beneath you. These were the beliefs that were fed to him since birth, but an itch in the back of his mind never left. He believed what he did at the time was right, but this is only what he was told. It was if there was something he forgot and the boy was so desperate to remember what it was. And by the time he knew what it was, it was far too late.

     The boy would look over to his right where he would usually find a girl with the pink beanie, only to find an empty seat. A hole in his stomach opened up as a feeling of dread took him. He filled the hole with thoughts of 'good riddance' and 'the liar is gone' but the hole was far too deep. Days went by and it wasn't until the seat was taken by another student did the boy snap. Sudden panic and anger made him push the confused student out of the seat in an explosion of fury. "That's not your seat, what if she comes back" the class only looked to him in confusion and the boy only apologized for his sudden outburst. "She's gone, I don't know where she went and now I'll never see her again, and it's my fault"

  "We're friends right? You'll always protect me right?"

And I did nothing, when she wanted to prove her family wrong, that there was hope, that there were those of us that could be trusted, that were different. I broke her dreams, our promise, something that could've been amazing. I was weak, I only did what I was told, I was too cowardly to go against what was normal, and now I'll regret it until the day I die, no, until I find her. Now I know better, now I know what I felt when I first met her, now I know what the words that come from me and not from everyone are. I'll find her again so I can keep the promise we made.

  "We're friends right? You'll always protect me right?"

Always
« Last Edit: August 09, 2018, 02:53:51 PM by Ordelis »
Solar Rasie "What's this thing? What does it do? Can I play with it!?"
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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #22 on: August 10, 2018, 10:38:13 PM »
Canon: A Painful Eventuality - Azre and Erza Sundown

You’re only 6, and you’re watching your twin sister literally wilt before your eyes. Daddy been gotten for the better part of a month, and you two had been left with the maids at home. He’d only just come back, and you two had rushed to greet him - only to be pushed to the side as he dropped his suitcase, barking that you were going to wrinkle his suit. He’d dropped his briefcase and had immediately gone towards the master bedroom, leaving the two of you to sit, dejected, in the entryway.

“Hey, Erza?”

“Yeah Anna?”

“What do you you think we did wrong?

“You know Daddy, he’s a Very Important Businessman.” You enunciate, repeating the words the butler had told you when he’d explained Daddy would be gone for an entire month. “I guess hugs aren’t proff- proffesh- fancy enough for him?”

Anna sits quietly for a minute, pondering the idea, before she suddenly lights up, turning to you with bright eyes. “I know! How about a tea party?”

“...a tea party?”

“Yeah! What’s fancier than that!? Daddy will definitely want to attend a tea party!”

“...I guess.” You reluctantly agree, and Anna immediately springs into action. She’s calling for butlers, ordering them to make sandwiches and the sweet drink that you two love so much. The dining room table is quickly prepared, covered in a fancy linen cloth while the maid places down silverware. Anna trails behind, her mouth running endlessly as she has her tweak the silverware just so, or how to arrange the flowers. She even doesn’t let the maids touch the fancy china she demanded with a pout, being the one to carefully place the plates onto the table, arranging all the silverware just like they taught you two - and then when the butler comes out to place cucumber and cream cheese sandwiches on the table, you can’t help but let a small smile bloom on your face.

Daddy comes back downstairs nearly 45 minutes later, dressed in a new suit and headed directly for the front door. He picks up his briefcase, and he’s opening the door just as-

“Daddydaddydaddy!”

Anna rushes your father, immediately gripping his pantleg and giving him her best puppy eyes, the ones that always get that nice kitchen made to give you an extra cookie. “Daddy, don’t leave yet, we set up a tea party because we thought you’d like it and-”

Your Dad responds by patiently jerking his leg, causing Anna to hold on even tighter. When she doesn’t let go immediately, he reaches down and grips her head, forcing her backwards off his pant leg, and she gives a small cry before she falls backwards, landing on the tile floor with an oof. You rush forwards, kneeling next to your sister, helping her lean back up as she starts to snivel, clutching the back of her head.

“Anna, not now. I’m having a very important dinner with a client in just an hour, I have no time for your silly games.”

He just leaves after that, paying no mind to the crying child floor or the fact you’re giving him your best death glare. The quiet thud of the door shocks Anna out the beginning of her crying fit, staring at the door with wide eyes as tears still stream down her cheeks. You’re less concerned about your father and more concerned about your sister, but the fact her cheeks puff out and she starts to glare at the offending wood panel tell you she’s fine. “Fine, you weren’t going to be invited anyways! It’ll just be the two of us, right Erza?”

You don’t answer immediately, helping your sister to her feet and giving her a hand as she determinedly wobbles into the dining room. “Right Anna.”

You two are quiet then, taking up seats on opposite sides of the massive dining room table. One of the maids comes out with an icepack, and Anna accepts, but she shoos them away before they can offer her any further treatment. Your twin is unusually silent as you much away at cucumber sandwiches and lukewarm tea, before she finally speaks up from her end of the table. “Hey, Erza?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“You’re not going to just like, leave me like Daddy does right? You’ll never leave me, right?”

“Yeah, Anna.”

“Promise, Erza.”

“I promise, Anna.”

Your twin seems satisfied, and she goes back to happily munching on her sandwich. You reaffirm your promise to her as you stare into her tea, thinking about how your father just discarded you two, like you were trash, like you were- were- nothing!

Yeah, you decide. You’re never going to leave her.

You’re 11, and you can’t find your sister anywhere. Father dragged you to one of these fancy charity balls, the 3rd this month, and at some point during the night your twin sister somehow slipped away from you. Which is weird in all honesty, because you two usually stick together - there’s barely any kids your age at these things, and Father usually makes you socialize with all of his older friends. They find it interesting to talk about their businesses, or fancy alcohols, or the latest women they’ve conquered, whatever that means. You’re barely noticed, except when Father calls on you to agree with a point he made, or has you stand up and spin to show off the fancy clothing you’re forced into.

Needless to say, it’s always horrifically boring, and you and Anna usually spend most of it playing Gin Rummy under the table with the pack of cards you sneak in inside the little clutch purse you’re allowed to carry.

At some point however, they’d called people onto the dance floor, and Father was drunk enough to start missing the mother you never met, and had asked for you two to go dance with him. Anna had gone first, spinning away into the crowd while you sat on the sidelines clutching a drink, before he’d whirled her off to one of his friends to dance with and come to grasp your hands. You hadn’t been worried initially until after five minutes of awkward ballroom dancing with your father, you noticed you couldn’t see Anna anywhere on the dance floor.

You’d pulled away from your drunk father with an excuse of using the bathroom, slipping away. You two always had a spot to meet up if things got too much, the handicap stall in the women’s room, where you’d hide until the ball was over, and you could find your dad to go home. Sometimes one of you crept off, and the other would follow a few minutes later to keep it on the downlow - but you always agreed ahead of time that it should happen. So by the time you finally reach the women’s room and peak into the largest stall, you see nothing but a bottle of champagne left on the floor, alongside some woman’s high heels.

Something’s definitely wrong here.

So you went wandering. Up the grand staircase that served as an entryway, checking the surrounding hallways. You’d poked your head into the other ballrooms and interrupted some fancy meeting, checked the other bathroom, and had even sprinted past a waiter carrying a tray full of martinis to explore the kitchen and servant’s passages, in case Anna had decided to go exploring for some reason.

You’d nearly given up hope of finding your sister yourself, and had started wandering back towards the ballroom to try to rouse some sense out of your drunken father when you’d heard it.

”Heeelp!”

Anna

You’d taken off sprinting in the direction of her voice, backtracking down the hallway you’d just come through, before taking a right down a hallway you know led to the coatroom. There she was, but she wasn’t alone-
The man your father had passed her off to earlier was with her. Some old businessman you couldn’t remember the name of. One of his hands was pinning hers above her head, while the other covered her mouth and noise, preventing her from yelling out again. He was pinning your sister to the wall with his bodyweight, nearly suffocating her, and- and-

And she’d looked over his shoulder, away from his face, and locked eyes with you for several terrifying seconds. She was desperate, pleading for rescue. You could yell, but nobody would be able to hear you over the ballroom music, and if you went to go get help who knows what else he might do, or where he might take her-

The terrified look of shock on your face stills as you press your lips together. You get one chance at this, and your sister is depending on you. You silently nod, before placing your finger over your mouth in the universal sign to hush, and her eyes widen in understanding before she tears her gaze from you to look back up at the old man. He’s facing away from you, pinning you to the far wall, and you’re so glad you wore flats instead of high heels today, since that means you’re silent on the carpeted floor as you approach-

And kick him between the legs from behind as hard as you possibly can.

His deep wordless murmurs to Anna suddenly go high-pitched, and he whirls around, clutching at his groin. Anna’s on the move in an instant, running towards you, and you grasp her hand as you begin to pull her away from the man, who’s too busy doubling over in pain to follow. The only thing that matters is her high-pitched “RunrunrunrunRUN” and moving as fast as your legs can carry you, bursting back out into the lobby before sprinting down the staircase, crossing the ballroom along the edge, until you can pull her into the woman’s room.

You two automatically go to the furthest stall, the handicap one. Regardless of the champagne bottle next to the toilet or the pair of high heels scattered on the floor, it’s where you two can safely sink onto the ground. It’s where Anna can curl up into a ball against the wall, it’s where you can sit next to her, and it’s where she can safely burst into tears and ruin her mascara as buries herself in your shoulder and starts to sob. She’s clinging as tightly as a bure, but you're not going to pull away - you just wrap your arms around her in return, and bury your face in her red hair, letting your own tears come to the surface as you remind yourself she’s still here, and she’s safe in your arms.

You can hear the music wrapping up outside by the time her sobbing slows and she extracts herself from your shoulder, sitting back against the cool tile to stare at the ceiling. You let her, going to fetch paper towels and wet them in the sink, before returning to the bathroom stall to start to clean up you two’s ruined makeup.

You’ve successfully wiped away her ruined mascara, but can’t quite get the lipstick stain off her dress when she finally speaks up.

“...Hey Erza?”

Her voice is quiet, restrained, careful - nothing like the bossy, arrogant, confident musician you love. You quietly seeth inside for everything that man did to her, but push it to the side for now. This isn’t about you, it’s about her.

“Yeah, Anna?”

“Don’t ever leave me.”

“I promise I won’t, Anna.”

She’s suddenly hugging you again, and you reaffirm the promise to yourself. You won’t ever leave her, ever again.

You’re 15, and in the span of a single afternoon your life has taken an incredibly new direction.

You sis- brother had come out onto the set having nearly shaved herself bald except for a dark-red fuzz atop her head. The director’s jaw had dropped, the set had gone silent, and even you had stared almost unbelieving, until you’d been dragged to the trailer your father occupied. You’d quietly sat in the corner as Father chewed him out for shaving head. You’d pulled out your scroll and cued up the first social media platform you’d come across, tagged every noisy reporter and news outlet you could think of, and had started to type out the announcement of the Sundown Twins as a brand name, when you realized you didn’t know your brother’s name.

“Hey, what’s like, your name and pronouns and stuff now?”

“Uh… he-him, and call me Azre.”

You’d added the announcement of Azre’s transition, and sent off the text to announce to the world who the two of you were now.

You father’s jaw had dropped when he read the messages, rendered speechless by the clever act of rebellion. He’d kicked you from the room, told you to get out, go anywhere, the shoot was canceled-

So you’d wandered back to your own trailer, sitting in the chairs outside as your Father argued with the director, sending orderlies scurrying as they hurried to pack up the million-dollar photoshoot that had taken the entire morning to set up.

You and Azre had been silent since that exchange. You couldn’t help yourself from shooting glances at his shaved head, still decked out in a bright-pink sundress with a bikini underneath for your “Playful Summertime” fashion line. He’d eventually caught you staring, and you’d whipped your gaze away as if stung, before you heard him heave a massive sigh-

-And it occured to you you should really make it clear you accepted him.

“So, uh- how’s your name spelled?

He turned to carefully observe your sheepish look, your usually perfectly-composed voice stuttering. He’d stared for a quiet moment, before a small smile graced his face. “A-Z-R-E. Azre.”

“...isn’t that, like-”

“Yes, yes it is. We’ve always been through everything together, and well- I doubt you’re going to leave me now.”

You spend your own moment staring, before snorting in disbelief, and then beginning to laugh. After all the stress, the tense situation, the threat of being seperated, it all boils over in an insane moment of hilarity - and after staring at you like you’ve lost your mind, he begins to crack up to.

After a laughing fit that lasts a solid five minutes, he reaches for your hand for the first time since you were kids, and you let him hold it. Yeah, together. You did promise after all, so it’s not just like you could leave him now.

You’re 16, and you didn’t think you’d be learning to run a business so quickly.

It had been Azre’s idea, really. A makeup line built especially to help trans youth accentuate their feminine or masculine features to help them pass more easily. He’d pitched the idea to you the day after he got his binder, when he was figuring out the best ways to accentuate his form to make him appear more masculine - facial features played a big part in passing, and the tricks he’d learned in emphasising his eyebrows or creating the outline of an adam’s apple on his throat actually really worked, letting him pass as a young male teenager. You never would’ve thought you’d hear him curse his cheekbones, but after crying frustration for the third time over a misalignment of his foundation, he’d turned to you and ranted how much easier it would be if it all came prepackaged-

And then it’d occurred to him, and even you had to admit it was kinda genius.

You had a new title, but nothing to show for it yet. The makeup line would be a perfect debut, cementing your new status as a brother-sister duo, instead of a pair of daughters to some rich entrepreneur. It’d give you a platform to stand on, but more importantly, give Azre a must needed confidence boost-

So you had agreed right away, and then started regretting it just two weeks later.

Azre might be able to dazzle the crowd with everything he did, even when the tabloids were a mess with the announcement of his transition and their brand separation from their Father, but that’s what he did best - dazzle. He was a massive extrovert, putting on a show that nobody could keep their eyes off of, with the ability to dazzle their pants off, but all glittery words were simply those - words.

You were the quick one, the clever one, the brave one. The one who’d come up with a way to keep you two together on the spot, who’d helped him locate his first binder and had spent the entire night awake after he first came out finding the best resources for someone who just came out as transgender. You’d told him off for binding with ace bandages despite his desperation, you where there to help him order his first binder, and you were with him when he went for his first doctor’s appointment, to find out how he could start on HRT, and had sat patiently in the waiting room as he spent hours with a voice coach. You’d done your best to help him grow from the shaky unsure mess he became when he first came out, to the confident, charismatic teenage idol you knew he loved to be, because he was your siblings no matter what happened, he was your brother- and you loved him, because he was all you had left in this world.

So you decided to pour your all into this.

You’d sat down with your manager and had pitched the idea, pushed it through their hesitance for such an ambitious idea after your hectic debut, but you argued that’s what your new brand name was built on - bold, bare-faced ideas. That even become your tagline. You’d collaborate with multiple makeup brands, find the cruelty-free brands ones you knew he’d prefer that still met his impossible standards. You’d reached out to the other celebrities you knew would help promote it. You’d set up the website, put out the announcement, handled question after question and meeting after meeting, where you’d organize Azre’s hastily-explained ideas into tangible realities, when he’d freeze under the judgemental gaze of your manager’s contacts while you forged ahead, all for him.

He’d had a ball of a time promoting it. TV interviews, promotional photoshoots, billboards, fan meetups - he got to dive right back into the fame he so craved, the celebrity lifestyle that you know he lived for. You let him handle that part, and resigned yourself to the seemingly endless meetings - because honestly, it was the first time since he’d come out you’d seen him smile like that. The exhaustion, the arguments, the everything - it was all worth it for that smile.

And then you’d planned the premiere.

It’d be a standard red carpet appearance. The glittering red dress you’d picked was sheer, clinging to every fragile curve you possessed, matching the black stiletto heels and the smokey red eyeshadow you’d carefully applied. The first-ever suit he wore, the one he let you choose for him, was white, but patterned with twisting golden roses, shimmering faintly in the light every which way he turned. In place of a hankerchief tucked in his pocket he’d decided on tucking a small version of the trans pride flag, refusing to let go of that piece of his identity You’d worn each other’s colors, a simultaneous announcement of independence and solidarity as the Sundown Twins had finally separated from their parent company. You two were going to flawless and perfectly in sink, ready to debut your makeup line at that night’s venue.

So when you’d stopped out of the limousine behind him, reaching to link his arm with yours as you had planned to do, only have him surge ahead to greet fans -

You’d swallowed the pang of hurt that rose up, got out of the limousine, and joined him in the classic smile-wave-selfie routine you’d perfected long ago. You let him get crowded by paparazzi, reveling in the flash of lights and the yells of his name as you stood off to the side, making polite conversation with the other celebrities who’d shown up to support Azre’s new makeup line.

...that smile was all worth it. After all, you might do everything together, but this was for him.

You’re 17, and Azre’s being an idiot.

“Hunters.” You say, your voice dripping with disbelief. He nods eagerly, and you find it necessary to fold you book up to look him square in the eye.

“Think about it, Erza! Hunters! There’s nobody more popular, no more well-respected than the hunters of Remnant! Huntsmen and huntresses are the greatest celebrities there are, valiantly defending innocent citizens from the greatest threat of humanity on the face on the planet! There’s no better way to claim fame, imagine if I- if we became hunters!”

He’s obviously excited. That devious, determined twinkle that’s been the same since childhood is in his eye, and from the way he’s bouncing in his seat it’s obvious he’s been waiting to strike her blind with this idea.

“Azre, are you sure?[/[] I mean, we’ve never gone to combat school-”

“We both know how to fight!”

“I only just figured out my semblance-”

“You punched a man through wall!”

“I only made a crater! And besides, you had those movie plans, and I’ve already lined up the director and started auditions for-”

“That doesn’t matter!”

You stare at him incredulously. He’s not kidding, he’d never kid about something like this. He’s serious. He’s completely serious.

“...which school are you thinking of?”

“Atlas is to far north and too cold. Beacon’s a solid maybe, but I’ve never been the biggest fan of Vale. Haven’s a certain possibility, but I was thinking we should go to Shade!”

“Shade? The school in the middle of Vacuo, the desert wasteland?”

Azre nods in enthusiasm. “It’s perfect, the Sundown Twins venturing into the desert wasteland to become the protectors of humanity? What could be heroic!? Besides, we both know Zanzabar would never want to step foot in such a place. ”

“...I suppose.”

Azre fistpumps to himself, giving a victorious “Yessss!” He looks back to you, giving you a grateful smile. “I knew you’d love the idea. You’d have to follow me, I just knew it! That’s the Sundown Twins to you - they do everything together, and now they get to save the world together!”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a fond smile on your face. “Sure, Azre.”

“Erza?”

You crack your eyes open, coming face-to-face with the familiar brown eyes of your brother kneeling next to your bed. You start and jerk backwards, flailing dangerously on the side of the bed for a second before you manage to right yourself. You glance towards the alarm clock on the side of the bed - 2:43 am - and sigh to yourself as you stare down your brother. “What, Azre?”

He sits back on his own bed, biting at his lip. You’re used to Azre needing your attention at all hours, you’re used to him bugging you for inane ideas and waking you up at all hours, but like- you’d just gotten back from your mission, you’d been fucking exhausted, and you had a 8:00 am exam tomorrow morning.

“I’ve been thinking, about like. Why we enrolled at Shade, and decided to become hunters, and stuff.”

“Mhm?”

“It’s… it’s hard.”

You blink at that, take a moment to consider his words, and rub the sleep out of your eyes before asking him to repeat that.

“It’s hard!”

“Well- well, what the hell did you expect, of course it’s going to be hard. We’re training to kill Grimm and save people, this wasn’t going to be a cakewalk.” It’s hard to keep your voice low and impartial, glancing over your shoulder to where your teammates slept.

“Well, yes! But-”

“Shhh. Don’t wake anyone.”

He glares at you, before dropping his voice back down to a whisper to continue the quiet argument.

“I- I didn’t think it’d be this hard. Like, we were good fighters and stuff, but it’s constantly exhausting. I barely have time to relax anymore, we haven’t gone to a premiere in months, we have to spend all our time in classes and like- I can’t do it anymore!” There’s a desperate, exhausted note to his voice, giving you pleading eyes.

You hate the fact you know he’s serious.

“Erza, I think we should just… quietly drop out. It wouldn’t be a big deal, with your PR connections you should easily be able to cover up. Ramalia probably wouldn’t miss us, I mean, I love the woman and god bless her, but-”

“No.” The words fly from your mouth without thought, without planning, just your purely instinctual reaction to the concept of leaving. “I’m not dropping out.”

Azre looks on in disbelief as he’s not only disrupted, but denied. He stares at you as if he couldn’t fathom what’s happening, opening and closing his mouth several times like a fish on dry land, before putting on his best puppydog eyes. The puppydog eyes that haven’t changed since childhood. “B-but, Erza, you promised! You’d never leave me, we’ve always done everything together, we’d always do everything together! So why the hell are you saying no to me now, of all times? What’s possibly changed!?”

“...I want to become a huntress.”

“So did I, but it simple isn’t worth all the-”

“All the what, Azre? The hard work, the hours spent studying and training and everything? What you can’t fathom doing because it’s not immediately paying off like you expected it to? Azre, I’ve spent the past 18 years doing everything you wanted, organizing and writing and creating  so you could reap the rewards and go off and celebrate the fame it brought you, and we’ve jumped from idea to idea constantly and now that I found something I want, that I can use to make a real difference in people’s lives, you just want me to quit it just like that, because you’re tired of working hard? Have you gone batshit insane?”

“Erza, I cannot believe-!”

You cut him off halfway through his high-pitched reply by rolling over and covering your ears with your pillow, effectively blocking out any argument he could muster. “Goodnight, Azre.”

Azre lets himself wilt after the sudden retaliation, giving you a pitiful look you ignore. He’s at least dropped back to a whisper, but you can tell he still wants to argue. “But Erza, you promised you’d never-”

“Goodnight, Azre.”

You lay back down, and bury your head underneath your pillow. You hear Azre whine, before the rustling of sheets signifies that he’s layed back down - and secretly, under the cover of darkness, you let yourself smile.

You were going to let yourself have this, even if it meant you weren’t always going to be together.
« Last Edit: August 11, 2018, 03:50:23 PM by Moth »
Prism Skylark - Beacon First Year, Winged Sharpshooter and Leader of Team CASA (Casanova) #ffffff

Chantou Rou - Beacon First Year, Insect-Eyed Rebel of Team LGGR (Lager) #ff82a4

Albrecht Clodwal - Beacon First Year, White Knight Nice-Guy of Team CNRS (Cinerous) #00a4a4

Azre and Erza Sundown- Shade First Years, Fallen Stars of Team RASB (Raspberry) #fe2d00, #feab00

Jima Purpora - Beacon Third Year, Grimm-Obsessed Scholar of Team PLSM (Plasma) #6e3aa8

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #23 on: August 12, 2018, 12:16:34 PM »
The prompt this week is a one-line prompt, the prompt has to appear somewhere in the response to be counted as a submission.

200+ word count (Just don't write a novel.)

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while no being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

There will be a winner this week, the prompt is open until midnight on Friday, going into Saturday, EST. After that, voting will be open for the entirety of Saturday and the winner will choose the prompt for the next week and their submission will be loved to a winners thread.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

"In that moment, (I/he/she/it/they/we) knew that (I/he/she/it/they/we) had fucked up."
« Last Edit: August 12, 2018, 12:18:22 PM by Dr. Gustave »
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #24 on: August 19, 2018, 09:38:37 AM »
No one posted because we're all failures.
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #25 on: August 19, 2018, 09:40:35 AM »
The prompt this week is a one-line prompt, the prompt has to appear somewhere in the response to be counted as a submission.

200+ word count (Just don't write a novel.)

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while no being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

There will be a winner this week, the prompt is open until midnight on Friday, going into Saturday, EST. After that, voting will be open for the entirety of Saturday and the winner will choose the prompt for the next week and their submission will be loved to a winners thread.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

"What are you gonna do, shoot me?"
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #26 on: August 25, 2018, 03:28:46 AM »
Canon: Lesson Learned

Another early training session on yet another saturday morning. Silica must have lost her mind - a man of Reginald's standing had no place being treated this way, unable to take a well-earned rest. After all, he could certainly use it with the Vytal festival approaching fast. Of course, Reggie had no doubts that he and Shiroe would win - he was that much of an overly confident prick.

He wandered into the training hall to find Silica sitting on one of the benches in her usual attire - short shorts, tank top, purple hair. Reginald had become used to this outfit meaning one thing and one thing only - he'd get treated like shit.

"Yo, shitstain! You're late." The woman called out. She was holding an apple in one hand but what caught Reginald's attention was her other hand sitting atop of her revolver which was laying on her lap. That was not a good sign.

"Well, perhaps if you were to provide a more reasonable time for-"

"Can it, dickweed, you'll do as I say and when I say it. Now, you and that Shirley dude are taking part in the tournament, correct?" She asked, cutting the boy off.

"Wha- His name is Shiroe, but, yes. We- I intend to win. Maybe then father will come to his senses."

"Only took you a year to remember someone's name. I'm impressed. Well, whatever, what I was going to say is that you won't win." Silica added, crunching into the apple in her hand.

"And why is that, exactly?" Reggie asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the woman.

"Because you're shit, Reginald," Silica responded as she hopped up from her seat, stepping closer to the boy. "You always have been. Useless in melee, incapable of dodging or blocking at range. When your dad was your age he was soloing giant nevermores and you'd die to a fucking boarbatusk sneezing at you."

The shock in Reginald's expression upon his assistant's barrage of insults was soon replaced with rage. "How dare you talk to me like that? Superior to me now or not, you can't-"

"Oh, shut it. You think your old man was a beast from day one? Fuck no. He put in work because he knew that's what he wanted to do. To be a huntsman. What do you want?"

Reginald was taken aback by her question. There was a short moment of silence before he spoke up again. "I want to prove myself, damned crone! You know that already. I'm not the weakling you try to make out of me with your serpent's tongue!"

"Fancy way of calling me a bitch," Silica said before tossing the half-eaten apple at Reginald. Surprised, the boy was struck square on the forehead. He reeled back, rubbing the impact area.

"What the fuck was that for?!" he shouted.

"You haven't improved much over the year. Not by a long shot. Still awful in melee, still terrible in a one-on-one. You're not any stronger, faster or any more clever than you were when you first applied to Beacon. But if you want to win this damn tournament, you better learn to at least dodge a whole lot better than that."

With that said, the woman raised the revolver in her hands and aimed straight at Reginald's chest. The boy stumbled back further, a terrified expression on his face.

"What are you going to do, shoot me?"

"Bingo, dingo."



Every part of Reggie's body was sore. His aura was barely holding up and his limbs still occasionally twitched from the electricity which had coursed through him just minutes before. He was beaten.

Silica wandered over and poked his side with her foot. "You almost had something going at the end there, fuckboy. Figure it out and get here same time tomorrow."

With that, the woman was gone - a bottle of water left at the boy's side. It took a solid ten minutes for Reginald to force himself up on all fours, and ten more for him to stand up. He groaned and kicked the bottle, sending it flying across the room.

Figure it out?

By god, he'd figure it out - and then he'd show that crazy bitch what for.
Razzmatazz Gele - 2nd Year warrior of happiness of Team ____. "Oh, I also like ____! Let's be friends!"

Janna Tarmac - 1st Year tank lady of Team DGTL. "Our job is to protect the innocent, and that's what I do."

Reginald Royale - 1st year snotty brat of team RBLS. "I'm telling father about this!"

Rufus Chocla - 2nd year freestyle rapper of team APRC. "Rap comes from the Soul, don't mess with the Flow, if you can't take no more, don't wait for Encore!"

Anza Burgundy - 1st Year archer of team CRSA. "War eagle, feller!"

Silica Methiviola - Assistant to the Royale Family/Reginald. "Suck my metaphorical dick, nerd."

Coconut Cream - 1st Year pervert of team CASA. "B-before we fight could you just like... nyah once for me?"

Tiber Rostrum - 1st year Bea(k)on student. "*Unintelligible, birdlike gibberish*"

My good ole AMA

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #27 on: August 25, 2018, 11:34:11 AM »
Canon: I said I'll never allow that

Two students in the Beacon stadium are duking it out. Water is wet, the Kingdoms Series does not invite teams from every Kingdom, sparring is one of the most common single activities in Beacon Academy. Especially true here as this is a training session held by the school. However this match today is... more than a little unorthodox.

The boy opened the match with a left straight at the breast of the girl. No, he was not aiming at the heart, which would require him to punch at her left with a right punch. The girl snarls at the punch before it connects and her expression turns pained as it does. Catalina read this one online and at lessons.  That general area is more sensitive than other, and especially so for females than to males.

The girl retaliated in the form of point-blank pistol shots,  but they missed and the assault on her continues as the boy secures the tempo of the fight by the first attack and will go on to win the match by finishing it with a kick in the crotch doubling her over.

While the better part of other students grasped at the attack in either fascination or horror Catalina was seething. And the triumphant boy wasn't ignorant of this. "It's not like I pulled any punches; isn't that what you advocated?" Cat's activism isn't exactly unknown to the class, so he added that. "Plus if it works, what are you gonna do, shoot me?"

Calen might be right just two days ago when he stated how every little edge in combat should be stacked to his advantage, after all, your opponents might just not care, and can not care if they are the creatures of Grimm. But that is the very thing Catalina stands for.

How could he? Not because she was a girl, Catalina was never about that. It's that... what? Catalina can tell it's definitely a direct violation of his principles, but what exactly is it? Cat have to find out or he can't rest comfortably, for something threatening his very identity is right there and he can't meaningfully resolve it.

At the sparring session the next day Catalina challenged him to a match. He is going to prove that it simply doesn't work. The professor also sees through what's bothering him, and as he is the combat teacher he realizes he should probably counsel him after this, but he didn't stop Cat for now.

The match was opened with another debilitating groin attack. Cat simply uses his semblance to block it off. But that reminds him: He was exploiting her sexual traits, and that is unacceptable. It doesn't matter if it's a male or female if he wants gender equality he'll practice it. With this renewed determination Catalina began his volley of semblance-aided piston punches only to be stopped when he decided to tank a punch. It hurts. The pain just doesn't match the strength behind the hook. No wonder he fights like that, he had a pain amplification semblance. Does that make his moves justifiable, hair pulling and all that? Probably from a pragmatic perspective, but this fight is already on.

So Cat went ahead and carried out his barrages of punches punctuated by the occasional sledgehammer swings and rifle shots. One such attack went for his adversary's head and he flattened his bunny ears to avoid a grab, but Cat reveals he aimed for the temple with a dazing jab. And so it went back and forth with neither side having the edge, and the proactive side changes hand over and over. Cat sends a spike straight at the target but is blocked by the arm, which Cat proceeds to wrap around and pull but was used to boost a punch.

Catalina extended his hand. He didn't think he'd be so eager to do so but he learned. To each their own: if someone uses a fighting style it's because it suits them. It doesn't really interfere with his agenda, after all, it's just that Cat would never sink to using those moves.
Catalina Glenn - first year Beacon Academy student - "Not funny, dude! And not dudes... and everyone else... " - Cata, Cat.
Infrared Ray - fourth year Atlas Academy student - "So it's __ and __(insert name here) meets each other."
Sheer Gold - second year Beacon Academy student - "This is super effective!"
Siu Ceong - Beacon Academy graduate Huntress - "What is this? Where can I learn about it?"

Character hex code for reference: ShowHide
Cat: #0A44C2
Infrared: #CB4154
Sheer: plain red
Siu: #28CDFF

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Re: Weekly Writing Prompts
« Reply #28 on: August 27, 2018, 02:00:24 PM »
The prompt this week is a general prompt, just write about what comes to mind.

200+ word count (Just don't write a novel.)

At the start of the story indicate whether it is a Canon or What-If scenario. Canon means it happens within the canon of the site and you need to have it either be from the perspective of your own approved character or an NPC where the focus of the story is on your approved character. An example of this would be if I had a specialist character and wrote a story from the perspective of their CO about how they keep messing up. Additionally, you may have other characters or NPCs in your story but if they're other's characters you must have approval from the user.

What-If means it's basically an alternate universe or timeline, this allows for a stronger focus on writing because you aren't constrained by site rules or RWBY, you can have anyone or anything as the PoV but you still need permission to use others' characters. That said, What-If scenarios, while no being canon on site, can still say something about the character PoV it follows if the character itself is effectively unchanged from canon, it's just that the events never happened on site.

There will be a winner this week, the prompt is open until midnight on Friday, going into Saturday, EST. After that, voting will be open for the entirety of Saturday and the winner will choose the prompt for the next week and their submission will be loved to a winners thread.

The main focus of all this should be on writing itself with character development as a beneficial side effect, we should be striving to write something that we can look back at and think, "Yeah, I'm actually proud of that." This is an excellent chance to improve your own writing as well as give criticism to or get criticism from others.

If you have any questions, do not post here, talk to me on the discord server. Only writing can be posted here, anything else will be deleted.

Describe a situation that fills your character with determination.
Atlas: ShowHide
Mercenary: Kol Augur ~ The Judicator of Atlas
Speaking: #5C5054 Thinking: #EAC117

Mistral: ShowHide
Huntress-in-Training: Aca Roth ~ Member of Team RWND
Speaking: #E05260 Thinking: #EA857F
Huntress-in-Training: Brook Pallas ~ Member of Team CNBR
Speaking: #4863A0 Thinking: #98AFC7
Council Member: Phaedo Katsaros ~ Figurehead for Faunus/Human relations
Speaking: #667C26 Thinking: #B6CC76

Vacuo: ShowHide
40th Vytal Tournament Champion: Zabar Aga ~ Member of Team DAWN
Speaking: #CD7F32 Thinking: #EE9A4D

Vale: ShowHide
Huntress: Malina Nahualli-Roth ~ Leader of Team MCCA
Speaking: #993A64 Thinking: #8B0C44
Beacon Professor: Titania Printemps ~ Assistant Headmistress of Beacon Academy
Speaking: #4AA02C Thinking: #E55B3C
Drop-out: Durian Ghede ~ Former leader of team DFDL
Speaking: #E1BD27 Thinking: #AF8B00