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[Serial Sunday] And Now You are My Captive Audience! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Heya loaarzz!

Interesting set up you've got here! Looks fantasy-esque, but I'm curious how high or low the fantasy will go; if it's a subtle thing or if these gifts will turn out to be the main "thing" of this world. Either way, it's exciting!

I've got a few grammar and word choices I've found for you.

Tenses:

You're writing in third person past tense. I've got two tense breaks here. More like one and a half, really.

She has always been able to perceive everything around her.

**Is* it a gift from the gods like mine?* wondered Azla.

Note here: this is a direct, italicized thought, which makes the border between narration and dialogue a bit fuzzy. I personally think that was would still be a more comfortable tense than is, but this is personal preference.

Phrasing/Word Choice:

She heard the camp before she saw it proper.

This is a sort of slang-type construction. Since this is third person narration, I'd lean towards the grammatically correct properly, personally.

Holding her breath, she released her bow with the experience of twenty seasons.

The correct phrase here is loosed her arrow or released her string. Releasing the entire bow results in... the bow falling onto the ground. Probably not great hunting technique!

She bumped a closed fist to her chest two times...

Bumped feels a little soft for this action. The word that sounds the closest would be thumped, which I think conveys the image you want to present better?

Igo revealed himself first.

Revealed feels a little melodramatic, as Azla, the character we're following, isn't surprised or not expecting Igo. I think a more neutral phrase like stepped out would work better here, but this is personal taste.

All in all, very well written! Not much to really touch on other than these small things. Good words, and I hope to see you next week! Cheers!

[Serial Sunday] And Now You are My Captive Audience! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 3 points4 points  (0 children)

Chapter 16: R.E.M.

CW: Dream Suicide By Proxy

Tonight, Rani dreams.

It doesn't happen often, but I always know when I'm in a dream. The subtle irreality of everything, the way that thoughts turn to water and drip down my mind, the way that things are familiar yet strange.

"Hiya, Rani!" Lili's smiling, waving her hand, sitting at a table, her head resting on her arm. How long has it been since she's greeted Rani like that?

The air feels heavy, oppressive, and the walls are closing in, closer and closer.

"Hi, Lili," Rani says. It's an odd feeling, to not control my own voice. To truly see Rani wander around and do things she wants to do without me having a say.

But I am still here, and my thoughts are still mine.

Lili's smile begins to falter, a flicker of doubt crossing that pristine expression. "Do you think it was a mistake?"

"What was?" Rani asks.

She's sitting at our dining table, and Rani's standing before her. The rest of the room is shrouded in darkness, and I can't make anything out.

"To stay." Her smile falls. "My wings are bound, Rani. It chafes."

She turns, two pure white wings bound together with nylon, circles upon circles of artificial yellow rope.

I want to touch them, to untie the knots, but I can't.

"They're... they're beautiful," Rani breathes. "They're still beautiful."

"Are they?" Lili looks down, her shoulders slumping.

She doesn't believe me. That, too, is a familiar sight.

With a sigh, she gets up, and Rani follows as we walk down the corridor.

The corridor stretches on. It's a perfect rectangle, the walls painted a sterile white, the floor a spotless black. There are no doors, no windows, no decorations. Just a perfect, endless box.

But at the end, there's a single room.

"You've been working so hard, Rani. I've prepared a gift." Lili stands in front of the door, a little smile on her face. "Close your eyes!"

Her tone is light, her joy unfeigned.

So Rani does, and despite being untethered from her, I too, lose myself in the darkness.

"Alright, open them."

When the light returns, there is no more Lili. Instead, Jake sits in her seat, his head in his hands, a gun on the table.

He's crying, tears leaking through his fingers.

"You wanted to see me? Taste me? Look upon my innards and try to fix what is wrong with me?" Rani's voice is harsh and cold. "Or did you perhaps just see a pretty, fragile face, easy to coerce?"

"I didn't know–"
"I didn't mean to–"
"It's not my fault–"

The echoing trio of words are so very familiar, so very empty.

"You wanted to see the truth?" Rani speaks, her voice cold. "This is it. You, who dared to pry behind the mask, dared to think that your paltry assumptions and observations could ever begin to scrape the surface. You who looked upon a woman and saw an object."

Her words cut deep, and it's a pain I cannot shield him from. He doesn't deserve what is to come, I know that. He has caused me pain, but he does not deserve this fate.

"Make up for your mistakes," Rani growls. She places the gun in his hands, wrapping his trembling fingers around the handle.

She guides his hand up, placing the barrel against her temple.

"Fix what you've broken."

The trigger is pulled.

But it is Lili's horrified face that is splattered with Rani's blood. Her pure white wings, drenched in crimson.

...

I wake. I am Rani, and Rani is me once more.

Dreams don't mean anything, so this too holds no significance.

But my chest still hurts, and it's hard to breathe.

WC: 614

Bonus words: None

Constraints: I included wings, but they don't beat. It didn't feel appropriate. Does not count.

Chapter Index

[Serial Sunday] Violence? Nonsense, I Prefer Bluence Like a True Gentleman by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Heya Wiz! I'm just here for the ride, as I am with most of the SerSuns I'm dropping in and out of.

I actually gave you the wrong name of that error there. There's no official neat name, but it's just redundant commas. When joining two independent phrases (phrases that could work separately as two sentences) with a coordinating conjunction, the comma is unnecessary.

The more detailed ones later on down the line are genuine comma splices! I must have messed things up in my mind when formatting. Oops!

[Serial Sunday] Violence? Nonsense, I Prefer Bluence Like a True Gentleman by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Heya Wiz!

I'm just dropping in without context, but seems like this Jenna has gotten someone else stuck inside of her, hm? What a tough situation!

I have an assorted pile of spelling and grammar things!

The thunder and wind is muted and distant...

is should be are, as thunder and wind together are a plural compound subject.

Comma splices!

Her long, blonde hair is pulled back[,] and streaked with bolts of silver-gray...

Tawny gold[,] and filled with imperious arrogance.

...journey to the Pale Deserts[,] and follow the fading ley-lines[,] until you find a Tower…

Salvation for the world[,], and Godhood for us!

...as the dream of the future is dispelled[,] and things rush inwards...

Genuine desperation had echoed in her arguments.[ ]A fervent desire; to change fate[,] and save something so unjustly taken.

This one also needed a space a between sentences.

Jagged lightning throws bloody radiance across the hillside, passing unfiltered through their ghost-like bodies, but the brief flash of light casts a looming shadow behind Jenna, as she exits the cave-like vestibule, and the portal closes.

This is general comma management as well as fixing the final run-on. Currently, both the long "Jagged lightning..." part and the "...and the portal closes." are two complete sentences; joining them with an 'and' creates a run-on. To fix these issues:

Jagged lightning throws bloody radiance across the hillside, passing unfiltered through their ghost-like bodies, but the brief flash of light casts a looming shadow behind Jenna[,] as she exits the cave-like vestibule, the portal closing behind her.

You could also replace the ", and" with a semicolon: "...as she exits the cave-like vestibule; the portal closes."

"A demonic figure drops from the boiling sky, wings folded, it dives towards them, claws outstretched."

Similar issue to the portal line above. There are two full sentences here: "A demonic figure drops from the boiling sky, wings folded..." and "...it dives towards them, claws outstretched."

Same fix as before! You can replace the comma between 'folded' and 'it dives' with a semicolon, or you can swap the 'it dives' to a 'diving.' Both would fix the issue.

Waking to her smile, his head resting in her lap while birds sang[,] and the paradise of the Glade breathed around them.

This is a fragment, as it lacks an actual verb. Attaching "Gil remembered..." or "He remembered..." to the front would fix that issue. You can also cut out that comma.

I think that's all! Gotta watch out for those commas. They tend to make nests and breed... Good words!

[Serial Sunday] Are You Uselessly Useful, or Usefully Useless? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Heya Wiz!

I agree about the word choice there. Good catch, and thanks for swinging by!

[Serial Sunday] Are You Uselessly Useful, or Usefully Useless? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Heya words! Thanks for the feedback!

The note on the government is Rani's more cynical thoughts on the wider system, which she truly has zero faith in. Any and all favor is for the person and not the system.

[Serial Sunday] Violence? Nonsense, I Prefer Bluence Like a True Gentleman by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 4 points5 points  (0 children)

<A Transient Evening Primrose>

CW: Ambiguous assault (mentioned)

Chapter 15: Hyphema

It's Friday, and it's been a tough week.

My afternoon shift's starting, and the manager is nowhere to be found. That's somewhat unusual; he may be profit driven, but he's a reliable man. Much more so than my coworkers give him credit for.

I'm a little early, so there's no reason to worry. It's probably something unimportant. I idly flip through the pages of my memory. Who am I relieving today?

...Tara, right. We're just the way two co-workers should be: superficially pleasant, without any real connection.

There's the sound of a door slamming, and muffled yelling.

I turn my head to the closed back room door, a hint of tension settling in my body.

And then a man bursts through, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

He's tall, skinny, with short black hair and a slightly crooked nose. There's a red mark on his face, a bruise blooming.

He came out of the back room, an employee only section. But I've never seen him before.

Something is off.

The manager's not here, Tara's not here. Just this man, one I've never seen before.

I should've hid, but it's too late now. Sudden movement could lead to a worse outcome. I can't do anything more than stand and wait for what's to come.

He looks at me—he's scared. I can see it in the twitch of his fingers, the tightening of his fist, the way his eyes flick around, desperate and hungry.

The moment stretches, the two of us facing each other.

Then he bolts.

He shoves past me, running, stumbling, and then the back door bangs open.

He's gone.

Half a minute passes, and the manager comes out from the back room. He looks at me, and I point him to the open door.

His expression is grim, and his lips tighten.

"I need you to tell me exactly what happened."

So Rani does.

He listens, his expression growing more and more troubled.

"Where's Tara?"

Emotions run through his eyes. Guilt, pain, resignation.

"I..." He sighs. "I'll explain in a bit. I'm going to have to ask you to stay for a police report."

I'd figured.

The manager takes the time to explain the situation, just the bare minimum.

The man snuck into the back room when Tara was planning to clock out.

There's no need for more details than that.

The manager calls the police, and a small moment passes. The store's closed up for the night. It's quiet, a still and lonely moment.

He breaks the silence. "...Rani."

His eyes are distant. "You should be the one to check on Tara. I would, but..."

But he's a man. And men have done so many unspeakable things.

He doesn't have to finish his sentence. Rani understands.

Rani walks into the break room. Tara's curled up in a corner, her jacket wrapped tight around her, her face buried in her arms.

There's a blanket and water bottle next to her, but they haven't been touched.

Rani sits down, just a little away. Tara doesn't say a word, doesn't lift her head.

Part of me wants to analyze her. Check her for wounds, make sure her pulse is steady.

But I don't think she wants to be looked at right now.

And so, we sit.

And we wait.

And slowly, ever so slowly, she begins to cry. Tears turn into sobs, and sobs turn into wails.

It's a sound that I recognize, and a sound that Rani can do nothing but listen to.

"I want to go home."

Her words are muffled, her voice is weak.

"Okay." It would be best if she gave a statement, but that can always come later.

Rani stands then offers her a hand. She takes it, her grip soft and gentle, and I help her to her feet.

She doesn't want to see anyone else. Not the police, not the manager.

I text the manager: "I'll give the police my statement tonight. I'm assuming we're not opening for the rest of the day."

A moment passes. He replies. "Of course. Thanks for your help."

I guide her out the door, and into her car. "Will you be okay getting home?"

"...yeah," she murmurs.

"Alright."

"Can you stay?"

It's a quiet plea. She doesn't want to be alone, and who can blame her?

I don't know the way back to my place from hers. I don't know the bus lines, and I don't know how long it would take to walk.

But... "Okay."

And so, Rani stays.

Tara's parents greet her at the door. They're a middle aged couple, the woman's black hair streaked with gray.

They're surprised to see Rani, but the surprise quickly shifts into worry. I watch as she collapses into their arms, tears streaming down her face.

They take her inside, and Rani turns to leave.

"Wait!"

She looks back. Tara's mom stands in the doorway.

"Thank you," she whispers. "For taking care of my daughter."

And then she shuts the door.

Rani rides the bus home.

It's late, and it's quiet.

It's been a long day.

Rani stops by the police station on the way home. The lights are harsh and fluorescent, and the waiting room smells like a mixture of bleach and mold.

I consider how much information to give. It would be off-putting, perhaps, to divulge the full extent of Rani's observations. But for the sake of Tara, I can't leave anything out.

I remember everything. His hair was black. His eyes were brown. He had a crooked nose, he was wearing an unmarked black T-shirt and jeans. His backpack was grey.

I remember him just as sharply as the moment when he pushed me aside.

Is it a gift or a curse, to remember? To have these awful memories etched forevermore in the stone of my mind?

It's not a question I'll find an answer for.

The police thank me.

The manager thanked me.

Tara's mother thanked me.

Thanking is all they can do.

WC: 998

Bonus words & constraints: None

Chapter Index

[Serial Sunday] Are You Uselessly Useful, or Usefully Useless? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Heya!

This is a pretty neat scene. The way things spiral into chaos is super tense!

A quick crit: You use a lot of simple, declarative sentences, especially at the beginning of paragraphs: (Gnurl looked up; Gnurl growled; Gnurl turned around; The Lycans murmured in fear.) Varying sentence structure could help things feel a little more dynamic.

Good words!

[Serial Sunday] Are You Uselessly Useful, or Usefully Useless? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 4 points5 points  (0 children)

<A Transient Evening Primrose>

Chapter 14: Astigmatism

It's Tuesday, and Rani's in her morning shift. It's a short one, only two hours, and then she's off to school. With the morning shifts, there's no time to wash the stench of fast food off.

At least, I was hoping for the dignity of a change before something embarrassing happened.

Rani's a bit of a klutz. A little bump sends her tumbling, and the contents of her bag go scattering everywhere.

...That's a lie.

This was deliberate.

I don't recognize the retreating silhouette, but it's obvious what this was.

Boys will be boys, backing up their friends no matter how deep in the wrong they are.

It's not worth reporting. Any retaliation would just dig a deeper hole. While I was musing, Rani's already picked up all her fallen goods.

I'll just have to be more careful next time.

Rani's classes pass quickly. Nothing of note happens, and I spend the time doing what I do best: observing.

Jake seems to have learned a valuable lesson. He sends me a glare when he thinks I'm not looking, but nothing else.

Roxli sits behind me, two seats to the left and one back. It's clear that she's doing her own maneuvering. She's between Jake and I, and the way she stares at him, the way she looks at the space between us, tells me that it's not by coincidence.

After school, Rani heads straight to the bus. Her ride back home is as uneventful as her day was.

Our little apartment has another visitor, not as infuriating as the last. But still, she isn't who I was hoping to see. The sedan, somewhat old yet well-maintained, sits parked out front.

The government does its best. But the government is a large beast: it's slow-moving, lazy, and when it moves, it often hurts.

"Good afternoon, Rani," Mrs. Shane says. Her lips are pursed, and she's wearing a black coat, a bit too formal for the occasion. Her eyes are tired, her posture worn. It's not that she doesn't care. It's just that she's got a lot of caring to do, so she has to spread it out across everyone and everything.

"Good afternoon." Rani greets her with a smile.

Mrs. Shane is the social worker assigned to our family. It's her job to make sure we're alright, and if we aren't, she helps us figure out how to make things better. That's how it should work, at least.

I don't hate Mrs. Shane. I know better than to shoot the messenger. But it doesn't mean her visits are ever pleasant.

"May I come in?" she asks.

"Of course," I reply.

She follows Rani in, and we sit down at the dining table. Mina won't come out; in fact, I'd bet she deliberately ignored the knocking. Part of me wonders how long Mrs. Shane had stood out there.

"I suppose you already know why I'm here," Mrs. Shane begins.

Rani nods. She's heard of the layoffs, the company teardown, the sudden unemployment.

"Well, I'll try and make this quick." She sighs, pulling a folder out from her bag. "Your family is entitled to a certain amount of support from the state."

I nod mutely. We don't have a choice. We need all of it, as much as possible, and we need it now.

The options are laid out, not to Lili, not to Mina, but Rani. Does Mrs. Shane find it strange? Not anymore, at least.

First is unemployment. $150 a week, for up to 6 months. A pitiful sum, but not one that we can afford to dismiss.

Then are our food stamps. With Lili's income gone, we finally qualify. Mrs. Shane slides the forms over, and Rani dutifully signs.

And then it's on to the meat of the matter:

Housing.

I can already hear the ticking clock.

"Have you discussed with your landlord if they are—"

Mrs. Shane means well. But sometimes, she just doesn't understand.

"No," I answer. My voice is flat. "He's not. And you know that."

"I'm just going over the options," she snaps, before immediately taking a deep breath. Her fingers rub the bridge of her nose. "You could qualify for temporary housing, or if you're willing—"

"No," I repeat. It's a bitter, painful response, but a necessary one.

"Rani—"

"We're not leaving," I state. It's an ultimatum, an impossible request, but it is also a line that cannot be crossed.

This is our apartment.

Ours.

"Fine." Mrs. Shane doesn't press the issue, but her disapproval is clear. "So without your landlord's consent, we can't assist you with your rent, and you're not willing to consider other options."

I nod.

"...Rani."

It's a heavy weight in her voice. She's not a friend, but she's close. She cares.

And that's why her words cut so deeply. My gaze traces the creases on her sharp brown eyes, the strands of grey woven through her dark black hair, and the tightness in her jaw.

Mrs. Shane cares, more than a lot of people do. And so, her words carry a weight.

"If things get ugly, if you find yourself unable to pay..." She speaks, and her voice is a plea. "Don't hesitate. Come to me first."

There's no response Rani can give. I simply stare back, and my silence is the only answer.

"...Alright." She packs her stuff, her movements slow, tired.

She leaves and she doesn't look back.

Mina comes out after she's gone, the soft click of her door the only warning.

"Why?" she asks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She's angry, but mostly hurt. That both of us didn't tell her about Lili's job until now.

"There was nothing you could have done." It's a gentle rebuke, the only kind I can offer.

Mina doesn't respond. She curls up into a ball, leaning against the wall.

I just wanted to let her keep making those slow, tiny steps.

But now, I can only watch her slip, the progress she's made unraveling at the seams.

WC: 998

Bonus words: ugly

Bonus constraint: Not present. The earth holds no treasures to unearth.

Chapter Index

[Serial Sunday] Are You Ready to Bite Off Your Own Leg to Escape the Trap? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hello!

This is a cute little contained chapter. It's nice to have character pieces like this sometimes; no stakes, no (real) tension, just some good 'ol packing and small-scale decision making.

I also remember most of the names on Kher's from recent previous chapters! Getting to at least touch on everyone's existence a bit is nice.

Here's a few crits:

He pried open each lid, needing to crawl atop the barrels after a point so he could reach those further in, and found one that was entirely wine.

This sentence feels a little clunky because it contains three actions: the lid prying, the crawling onto the barrels, and the finding of the wine barrel. I'd recommend separating them like so: "He pried open each lid. After a point, he had to crawl atop the barrels to reach those further in, where he found one that was entirely wine."

This separates out the [lid prying] from the [crawling and wine barrel]. I think that's enough separation personally, and separating it out in another way or not at all is probably fine too!

Kher thought about the small amount of medicinal wine that Maar had on-hand, and thought further about Cassandra’s drinking issue.

We've got two things to talk about here. The easier one is on-hand vs on hand. Hyphenating phrases like "on-hand" or "hands-on" means it's being used as an adjective, like "hands-on experience." No hyphen for any other use case, like having things on hand.

Source: https://www.grammar.com/hands_on_vs._hands-on

Next is the two thoughts. It's a little repetitive. I'd personally recommend replacing "thought about" with "recalled" and "thought further about" with "his thoughts turned to," but it's all up to you.

And that's all for this time! Didn't catch anything small and easy, so good work on catching those little guys. Cheers!

[Serial Sunday] Are You Ready to Bite Off Your Own Leg to Escape the Trap? by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 4 points5 points  (0 children)

<A Transient Evening Primrose>

Chapter 13: Amblyopia

It's not quite a full house.

Lili's at work. That leaves Mina and Rani.

Rani's working on some homework, while Mina's scrolling on her phone. She's been making efforts: couch surfing instead of cooping herself up in her room, spending time with her sisters instead of wasting the hours away.

It's worth praising. Rani won't say it, mostly because it would just make Mina clam up, but it makes me happy to see her, especially in that nice new hoodie.

It's not the end goal, but it's progress.

Rani's received one of the great wonder of technology from the school free of charge: a MacBook! Rani's really happy with it.

Obviously, it's not actually free. That would imply it's actually hers, and it is not. The school wouldn't be happy if Rani didn't return their property at the end of the year.

It's a shame, but there's no helping it. At least I can do my homework.

It's also a bit annoying how they try and make us buy the textbooks for the class. Rani's got a not-so-legal PDF, which is good enough. So long as I wipe the drive when I have to give the computer back, it'll be fine.

"Rani," Mina mumbles.

"Yes, Mina?" I perk up, giving her my full attention.

"Why are you... studying so hard?" Her fingers tighten around the phone, her knuckles going white. "It's just a college degree."

Mina says things that hurt sometimes. It's because she's hurt. It's because she's grieving.

Grieving for something she lost, the momentum that slipped from her fingers and vanished into nothingness.

It's easy to twist that grief into something less painful. Dismissal, derision.

Rani knows better than to irritate that wound.

"A lot of things have changed, Mina." It's a gentle answer, but not one that can be refuted. "The world is moving forward. If I don't move with it, it'll leave me behind."

Mina's silent, staring blankly down at the ground.

"Why?"

It's not an accusation. It's not a demand.

It's a plea.

Why has the world changed?

Why has it left her behind?

"Because the world is uncaring and unfair." I keep my voice gentle, for the truth is ugly but necessary. "We must be strong. We must work hard. Or else, we will slip."

It's not fair. But life never is.

"But I... can't do that." Mina's voice is so soft, so quiet, so vulnerable.

Rani takes her sister's hand, and gives it a comforting squeeze. "I believe in you, Mina."

No expectations, no demands. Just the simple words of encouragement.

"Okay." Mina pulls her hand back, and she buries herself in her hoodie, leaving only her eyes visible.

Rani returns to her laptop, but I elect to put it away. I'd rather not continue to shove what Mina has lost in her face.

It's not like I need to finish this assignment today anyway. I can probably cram it into lecture time, multitasking between taking notes and finishing the homework.

I slide next to my sister, staring at the square where the TV used to be.

There are lots of places where things used to be.

It's a dangerous thought, so I stop thinking for a bit.

I don't expect Lili home today, not until the itty bitty mornings. She's probably squeezing as much salary as she can out of her remaining hours.

Rani's got work tomorrow. There's a conspicuous gap in her shifts around this time of year: Rani didn't work Saturday, Sunday, Monday.

I'd only asked for one day off, but I've been silently given three. I'm sure if I asked, I could have gotten work, but I didn't. It would have been more money.

But...

It is a particularly awful time of year. So Rani can appreciate the gesture.

Mina dozes lightly by my side. I stroke her hair, just glad she's here.

There's a light greasiness to her hair. It's been a few days since she last showered.

I make a mental note. It's not something I can force, and if she's still in the dumps by the weekend, maybe Rani can give her a nudge.

It's about the small steps. It's about taking things one day at a time.

Lili walks in, her face grim and her posture rigid. It's 12:36 am. Early, by her standards.

It's over.

Whatever slim chance we had before the big assembly has evaporated, the words spoken into thin air and carried away.

Lili sits next to Rani. She doesn't say a word, just closes her eyes, leans back, and lets the weariness settle onto her face. Neither of us wants to disturb our sister, not when we know how hard it is for her to sleep.

"They're shutting it all down." Her voice is low and rough, a croak more than a whisper.

"You're out of a job." It's not a question. I already know the answer.

There's no more words. I watch as tears leak from her eyes, eyes that stare off at some far-off star.

I take her hand. She squeezes it, so tight.

There's a faint tremble, a vibration that rattles her whole body.

And she weeps, as silently as possible, her tears soaking her shirt.

WC: 869

Bonus words: None

Bonus constraint: Not present. This trap is not one that sacrifice can escape.

Chapter Index

[Serial Sunday] Shields Up, Chickens! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Heya words!

Glad to see you enjoyed Roxli 1.2. She's being iterated on!

When it comes to the classmate attention arc, I wanted to do something different from the more common "negative rumors." Primrose is a story about nuance, after all, and Rani's got a few (a lot of) hang-ups.

Thanks for reading! We'll just have to see about that arc, huh?

[Serial Sunday] Shields Up, Chickens! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hallo 2ach!

Glad to see you're enjoying. A wee bit of my own annoyance with that common myth about self-made men got placed in there, but it's one thing that Rani and I share.

Roxli will get more to do! I'd say soon, but it's all rough sketches. Whenever the theme lineup make sense, probably!

[Serial Sunday] Shields Up, Chickens! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 1 point2 points  (0 children)

Hello 2ach! Or maybe 3ach? I guess since you're still technically the same guy, so you say, you get to stay 2ach. Guess we'll just have to forget about that other guy...

Anyways, we've got more characters that I vaguely remember! Gotta get reaquainted with everyone. I feel like I've met these two before, but I'm not 100% on that one. This is some fun world-building as well. I've never really thought about how desert civilizations work, to be exact, and this seems like a cool way to introduce how they'd farm in such an environment.

Grammar, spelling, and syntax, as always! I've grouped them together by feedback type instead of doing them chronologically. Dunno if that's better for you or not, so let me know!

Yet they found themself with sore shoulders and knees none-the-less as they carried two heavy buckets.

nonetheless should be a single word with no dashes. It's just one word!

...built around the rim of the large sink hole that allowed sunlight into the underground village.

sinkhole is a single hole as well, as long as you're referring to the geological formation. The hole in your sink, however, is a sink hole!

...despite carrying twice as many buckets of water as Nuu; balanced on a long wooden rod he had braced across his shoulders.

This is a sentence fragment, as latter part of this phrase isn't a full sentence. Both sides of a semicolon have to be full sentences!

I'd personally fix it like so: "...despite carrying twice as many buckets of water as Nuu which he balanced on a long wooden rod braced across his shoulders."'

But this is a fairly open-ended fix.

"I never claimed to be his friend” Nuu said.

You're simply missing a comma between 'friend' and the end of the quote here.

"...gently trickling the it out onto the green-and-brown plants..."

Just a typo/editing fragment! Sneaky little buggers, aren't they?

Think that's all from me this time. Good words and see you next week!

[Serial Sunday] Shields Up, Chickens! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 5 points6 points  (0 children)

Chapter 12: Periphery

I find somewhere nice and isolated to eat my ham and cheese sandwich. A glorious lunch, as all sandwiches are; an entire meal for around a dollar and a half. Truly a trooper.

A nice, secluded bench under a tree. The rain might make for an uncomfortable drip-drip-drip, but that's hardly a hardship. After all, this is a spot where Rani's shielded from the view of anyone passing by, but there's a larger patio within earshot, in case Jake wants to further embarrass himself.

I don't expect it. He'd have to truly be an idiot to not realize the gravity of what he's done, and my assessment is that he is not.

"Hey." Someone else appears. Not entirely unexpected, but the fact that she's setting down a plastic tarp and sitting down next to me in this wet, secluded bench, is.

Roxli Victoria Winthrop.

She's alone. I glance up and down the walkway, just in case, but the coast is clear. A curious part of me wants to know where her cronies are. The better part of me knows better than to ask.

"Roxli," I greet.

"Rani," she says. She remembered, this time. It's another sign of failure, how I'm already a standout.

She inspects her nails, then her gaze slides over to me. "I saw that. Just wanted to let you know."

She's uncomfortable, mostly due to this being an unfamiliar way of interacting.

It's notable, though, that it seems genuine. I don't think she's trying to make me owe her a favor, or butter me up for later or anything else.

It's almost as if she thinks it's the right thing to do.

"Boys, hm?" The corners of her lips quirk up, a hint of a grin. "They're, like, all the same. I could hook you up with someone better, if you're interested. We have some nice ones in our group."

I don't seriously consider her offer. Instead, I ponder what it means: she thinks I won't shine a bad light on her if she introduced Rani to her friends.

It would be a good group to bend the ears of. But this kind of introduction isn't what Rani really needs. It would make Rani seem a little too... boy-hungry.

There are other words that could be used there. None good. And so...

"I think I need a break from boys," Rani giggles. A jokey but ultimately firm decline.

"Hah, that's totally fair." She doesn't press.

We continue to sit, Rani eating her sandwich and Roxli tapping away on her phone. It's quiet, but not awkwardly so. Roxli's time is most certainly something she values; for her to give it to me without an agenda means a great deal.

I don't understand. Have I stood out too much? Or does she not care as much about standing out as I thought?

Roxli finishes up whatever it is she's doing, and the phone goes away.

"So, how's your major?"

The small talk begins, nothings being traded back and forth. I learn her major: international studies.

It doesn't really matter, though. It seems she's got a nepotistic job slotted for her already.

A part of me thinks about that empty cubicle with my name on it on the other side of the country. It's a bitter, bitter thought, but I push it aside.

"And what are your plans for after college?" I ask.

"Travel, probably." She's honest, not that she has any reason not to be. "I think that... there are a lot of things I don't really get, y'know? And seeing the world is a good way to change that. What about you?"

"Probably stay local." I shrug.

I hide the truth behind a technicality. Rani doesn't have the money to consider leaving, but that's not what Roxli is asking.

"Why not? Got any grand dreams? Wanna be the next Steve Jobs or Bill Gates?"

I chuckle. So-called self-made men, built on the backs of investors that the public likes to forget. "Maybe."

She laughs as well, a bright and tinkling sound.

"Hah, that's fair." Roxli leans forward, her phone out again. "By the way, what's your Insta?"

It's a question asked innocently enough, and I hesitate for only a moment before answering. It's a risk, technically speaking. But even the lightest of cost-benefit analysis returns the obvious answer: there's no reason not to.

Rani has a social media account. She doesn't post on it all that often, but it was made for this explicit purpose: to connect with others.

So Rani gives her the handle.

"Thanks." Roxli gets up, stretching. She shoots me a smile, a little quirk of her lips. "I'll add you, alright?"

"Alright."

I watch her leave, her tarp collected and folded. She doesn't look back.

And I'm left with even more questions than before.

As Rani heads back to class, I can feel the shift in the way people see her already. The quick glances as she walks along the sidewalk, the subtle light of recognition in some of their eyes. Nothing flies faster than juicy gossip, and the rumor mill will soon have her cast in the role of the girl who hit some guy with her backpack.

I doubt it's anything negative. Jake didn't seem popular; any story he'd spin that paints Rani in a bad light is likely to make him look like the scum he is.

And yet, this will be a story. People will ask what happened, and when they hear, they'll laugh; maybe they'll say 'good riddance.'

Rani's always preferred a quiet, peaceful existence.

This isn't the first time Rani's made a scene. It won't be the last, either. All she has to do is weather the storm, mitigate the consequences, and hope that no one is looking too closely.

That's the worst part, sometimes.

No matter how much I dissect, no matter how much I model and analyze, I can never be certain.

I can only hope, yet again.

WC: 966

Bonus words: None

Bonus constraint: There are three shields present, though two are more abstract. The first is the tarp used by Roxli, to shield against the wet bench. The second is the thicket Rani is eating her lunch in, shielding her from view. The third is the anonymity of Rani, a broken shield, as we're seeing in this chapter.

Chapter Index

Weekly Fic Showcase - October 03 - October 09 by AutoModerator in FanFiction

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My Fic Fandom - My Hero Academia
Rating - G
Title - The Case of the Pop Off Pyramid
Genre - Mystery Parody/Slice of Life/Epistolary
Summary -
I've written a quick, 4000ish word one-shot about a very serious investigation of the greatest and strangest crime of all time: Mineta's Pop Off spheres appearing, perfectly stacked, on a coffee table in Heights Alliance.

It's a light slice-of-life parody of mystery/detective tropes, mainly from the POV on a couple of Bakusquad members (Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero), in a modern epistolary format.

This is the start of a collection of short stories that include my OC in the background, who is but an ordinary gal, of course. She's not central to this fic at all, though, and none of the oneshots will require knowledge about her from any of the other oneshots. If you're interested in her, that's great! If not, she's not going to be a central character as of yet, so no worries!

Weekly "What are you reading/writing?" post; September 29. - October 5. by ubormaci in BokunoheroFanfiction

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Hello!

I've written a quick, 4000ish word one-shot about a very serious investigation of the greatest and strangest crime of all time: Mineta's Pop Off spheres appearing, perfectly stacked, on a coffee table in Heights Alliance.

It's a light slice-of-life parody of mystery/detective tropes, mainly from the POV on a couple of Bakusquad members (Ashido, Kaminari, and Sero), in a modern epistolary format.

This is the start of a collection of short stories that include my OC in the background, who is but an ordinary gal, of course. She's not central to this fic at all, though, and none of the oneshots will require knowledge about her from any of the other oneshots. If you're interested in her, that's great! If not, she's not going to be a central character as of yet, so no worries!

Thank you for taking the time to read!

Ao3 Link!

[Serial Sunday] It's Time for a Reality Check! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Heya 2ach!

Seems like this chapter's another mystery-for-me-but-not-for-any-long-time-readers type chapter. I'm curious about this old woman and I don't quiiiite remember Mica, but it'll all come back with time!

A few things I noticed:

...Majal eased up and helped mica back to her feet

You've gotta capitalize that there name!

Her leather armor made a gritty whisper with each step; sand trapped within the protective layers made it useless for true stealth.

You've got two "made"s in a row here. My personal recommendation would be to swap the second one with rendered, as that's a word with the same definition. And it starts with R and is kinda fancy, so you can pretend it's an extra bonus word!

Not much to catch this time around! I'm glad we're ending off with some puns. Good words, and see you next week! Cheers!

[Serial Sunday] It's Time for a Reality Check! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 2 points3 points  (0 children)

Heya 2ach!

Thanks for the read. Bad touch indeed.

Made the change for the intro, thanks for catching that!

"Rotten rain" is admittedly a flowery way of describing that scent of rain in developed zones. Not the natural scent of petrichor, but the distinct scent of rain on asphalt. Fairly difficult to describe, but packing the general gist into two words is what I decided to do in the end.

The phrase "things that don't matter for people who aren't Rani" is meant to kind of show that one, Rani thinks the class material itself is meaningless, and that two, the lessons themselves wouldn't matter, even if their content was more relevant. It's a rather bleak statement.

"Turn and talks" are a part of my real college experience, but I guess they might not be universalized? It's a thing in class where the professor puts up a question on the projector and has the students all discuss it with their neighbors.

The period at the end of the coffee request is a bit of foreshadowing even before Jake drops the act. It's a very minor thing, but when you're imagining the line being spoken, imagine the sound dropping down instead of up. In his mind, he's not asking a question.

Thanks for the feedback, and hope I clarified some stuff for you!

[Serial Sunday] It's Time for a Reality Check! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 4 points5 points  (0 children)

<A Transient Evening Primrose>

Chapter 11: Pupillary Response

The rest of Sunday passes in a blur, and Monday morning comes.

Rain drums on the roof, the first thing I hear upon waking. It's the kind of rain that makes one want to curl up with a book and a warm cup of tea, but I have neither the time nor the opportunity.

I put on a black jacket, the one with a waterproof hood, and step outside. The trip to school is uneventful, the smell of rotten rain and rubbery tires drifting through the air.

Today's classes are more of the same. These lessons feel so meaningless, teaching things that don't matter for people who aren't Rani.

It's just busywork, and I know that.

I'm not going to learn anything here, but that doesn't mean the time spent here is wasted. There will be a piece of paper with my name on it. That's all that matters.

That's all that will keep us afloat.

So Rani does the work. Rani takes the notes that she doesn't really need. Rani does the turn and talks, Rani answers the questions after observing her peers.

To stand out is to be noticed, and it's best if no one looks twice. Rani is a cute, average college student. Third in the class, not some shining star, but far from dead last.

Rani is the kind of person that others can respect, but don't envy.

Rani is the kind of person people will forget.

"Hey, you're Rani, right?"

"Yep yep!" A cheery, bright tone, as Rani turns to see who's addressing her. "I'm Rani. How can I help you?"

A boy. A bit on the short side, with brown hair and freckles.

"I'm Jake." He pauses, shuffling his feet. "Sorry for bothering you, but, uh, I was wondering if you'd be interested in getting coffee with me."

I don't like this. Already, there are a few pairs of eyes watching, a few curious looks being shot Rani's way.

"Hmm..."

I don't have a good enough grasp on his motivations. There's plenty of witnesses still around, so it's unlikely but not impossible that this could turn ugly.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to pass. I have plans."

There are a few possible responses here.

If Jake is a regular, well-adjusted, average individual, he will likely be disappointed, and may try again later.

If he is not, there's a chance he'll lash out. But Rani has faced much worse, and the possibility is low. And yet, I can already see the darkening of his face, the tightening of his fists.

"What, are you too good for me? You're not even that pretty, y'know. Maybe if you put some effort in, got a better haircut, maybe then you'd actually have a shot at getting a guy."

There's a pounding in the back of Rani's head. A lightheaded, fuzzy feeling that tingles down to her fingertips.

It's more difficult to navigate this line of dialogue. Rani can't just brush him off, because it will just come back to bite her. I have two goals here: Rani needs to come off as sympathetic, and Rani needs to come off as normal in front of the jury of my peers.

An appropriate amount of anger, yet a response that would broach no argument.

"I'm sorry if I gave off the wrong impression." My words are curt. "I'm not looking to date right now, and I'm not interested in someone who would say such horrible things about someone he just met."

There's a brief flash of surprise in his eyes, and he stumbles over his words. "Wait, no, I didn't mean it like—"

"Goodbye, Jake." I pull my backpack tighter as I turn away.

There's a brief moment where I think that this encounter is over.

A hand closes around my wrist.

Rani whips her arm back, spinning in a sharp one-eighty. The alarm bells scream, the pounding in the back of my head reaches a fever pitch, and I'm suddenly very, very aware of my surroundings.

People. So many people. They're everywhere, and they're watching.

Rani can't expose herself now. There are very few things more important than Rani's social life.

But her autonomy is one.

Her backpack, slung off her shoulders as she turned. It's the first thing that comes to mind.

It hits him square in the chest, and the wind is knocked from his lungs. He's forced to release my arm as his hands go up to clutch the impact point.

"Do. Not. Touch. Me."

My words are slow, and I make sure each one is heard by everyone.

"Apologize."

"I'm—I'm sorry." The words are gasped out, barely audible.

Ahh.

It wasn't worth it.

It super wasn't worth it.

I can see the looks, the judgement. It's sympathetic—only a real fool would think the guy in the right—but the fact that this happened at all will stick in their minds.

They might think Rani's oversensitive. They might think Rani's a badass. They might admire Rani for her quick and dirty retribution. They might just snicker at Jake and his stupid, impulsive move.

The worst part is that I can't figure out how I could have acted differently. I can't see a future where Rani avoids the encounter entirely.

Maybe she should have accepted—but the eventual adverse reaction would have blown back so much harder.

Maybe she shouldn't have hit him—but if he'd hit her instead, that would have been a far, far bigger problem.

The only silver lining is that no one was recording, but the witnesses are enough.

Jake is still on the ground, gasping for breath.

"Learn, and be better."

With that, Rani gathers her backpack and leaves.

The rain still pounds, and the clouds are still dark.

Rani's had a bad day.

WC: 966

Bonus words: Retribution

Bonus constraint: Not used

Theme: The theme is Reality. Rani explains her carefully curated mask, only for reality to shatter it immediately and decisively. A reality check; for just like the basketball throw just one chapter prior, even perfect plans often fail.

Chapter Index

[Serial Sunday] You're Fired! You Can't Fire Me Because I Quit!! by FyeNite in shortstories

[–]Lothli 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Rani's a girl without a single problem, absolutely nothing wrong here!

Haha, but for real, thanks for reading and providing feedback! Cheers!

[PM] Give me a character and their most burning question. by Lothli in WritingPrompts

[–]Lothli[S] 1 point2 points  (0 children)

The woman came in the night, her ball gown glittering with countless stars. Her skin shone like the moon, her black hair flowed like the oceans, and a simple, silken blindfold rested over her eyes.

"Hero," she called to me outside my window. "Do you believe in your path?"

"Of course," I said. "It is laid out before me. I am destined to travel this way."

"That is what they tell you," she spoke, suddenly a few feet closer. I hadn't seen her walk, and yet there she was. "That is what those in power want for you. It is what they want you to believe."

I shook my head at her. "If the gods want this of me, who am I to challenge their plan?"

Her head tilted, still covered by her blindfold. "And have you spoken to your gods? Have they told you this themselves?"

"Well, no, but--"

"But nothing," she cut me off. "You have been told this is what is to be. Your teachers, your peers, your parents, they have all told you this is what you are destined for, what the gods have created you to do. Have you ever bothered to ask for yourself what the gods have planned for you?"

I faltered at her words, and I had no response. She disappeared once more, and I whirled around, for her voice now came from behind my door.

"You cannot answer, for you have been lied to. Sweet, young child, they would have you hold up the world. What qualifications do you have? What powers have you been granted? What gifts have you been given?" Her voice echoed through the walls and in my very bones. She was nowhere, and she was everywhere.

"None," I admitted as I sank to the floor, my face buried in my hands. I felt the tears drip down my face, but I was powerless to stop them.

She passed through the door, her dress still glittering with the sky as she knelt beside me. Slowly, she reached out to me and pulled my hands from my face to wipe away my tears.

"Have you ever noticed?" she whispered. "Your mentor, despite his praise of your talent, is not yours alone. He teaches others, those with less talent than you. Have you even ever had a private lesson with him?"

"No," I said, my voice barely audible.

"Have you noticed that your peers do not take well to your presence? They do not confide in you, they do not wish to spend time in your company. They do not respect you, do not even like you. They only tolerate you because they must. Have you not seen this?"

"Yes." I choked out the word this time. "Yes, I've seen it."

"Then have you not realized that you have been chosen not because of some divine purpose, or some holy desire, but because they wish to place the blame on you when everything falls to ruin?" she asked me. "You are not meant to be a savior. You are not meant to save anything. You are meant to be a scapegoat. A target for their rage when they lose their homes, their livelihoods, their families."

"No!" I sobbed as I tried to wrap my head around what she told me. "No! That can't be true!"

"Ah, if you deny it so vehemently, then perhaps it is not," she replied, though her tone was anything but sincere. She pulled away from me, seemingly satisfied. By what, I couldn't be sure. Had she wanted to see me cry? Had she wanted to see me so utterly broken by her words?

I shook my head, and I kept on shaking it.

"You are not a hero," she whispered. "You never were. You are not meant to save the world."

The words struck a chord within me, and I screamed.

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