"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
Kayson's older sister was out of town. What did that mean? Awwww yis DnD night AT DA CRIBBB! He was stoked! Everything was ready and prepped to be a perfect start to the first time that he'd ever hosted the Gang™
Pizza rolls aka lava pockets = lava-y and in a bowl on the counter. Check.
His body weight in Doritos and Takis? Check.
An ice cream bar with literally every topping he could ever begin to imagine? Also check.
But, that was for later. For now, there was a duel.
They'd pushed all of the furniture to the edges of the living room to make a battle ring. The Dark Mage aka Danny was wearing his amethyst robe with the hood thrown back to reveal his dark hair and pale skin. He had a wooden hand-and-a-half sword brandished in his right hand. Amastan the Barbarian aka T.J. was wearing a muscle shirt that revealed his utter lack of muscles and skin so pale it was almost painful to look at -- but he was also brandishing his wooden sword.
"FIGHT!" Paisley shouted as she jostled up beside Kayson, fists full of gummy worms that he had no idea where she'd gotten.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" The rest of the party started chanting from their respective places around the makeshift ring.
Kayson, of course, jumped into the chant as the opponents began circling one another and making their dramatic speeches. Although TJ's was mostly grunts and threats. But. Well. Couldn't break character, right?
The battle was legendary.
Lots of blows and parries. Grunts of effort. The loud crack of the swords striking one another. The stamping of feet as they struggled back and forth.
And, of course, the raucous cheering from the other party members. They stomped and beat on the tables to set the scene. Couldn't very well pretend this was an underground fighting club without adding the correct backdrop, could you?
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" Kayson shouted at the top of his lungs, joining the fray.
336 words
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
“Shut up! Shut up! How am I supposed to sleep with all this noise?” Layla cried from her room where the echoing chants ring in her ears.
“Go to bed. All you lot. Just go to bed.”
She stomped around the room angrily, her nightgown floating just above her ankles. Grey hair puffed up in antique curls.
“Thank the Good Lord George isn’t here. He’d cry all night and then he’d cry all morning and by the end of it I’d be crying too.”
She walked down the hallway and stood over the land line, quickly deciding the police would take too much time to come she walked out her door and down the stoep. She would have take her chances with these hooligans.
With every slippered step Layla wished more and more that she had earplugs snuggled in her ears because the noise was even more defeaning than it had been in her bedroom.
But she carried on slowly down the sidewalk, taking the final steps and knocked on the door as loud as she could.
Swan Queen's little sister in-law/caretaker since 2022
Name and pronouns: Wednesday Harlow (they/them), "Ed" for short. Age: 18 Appearance (just a few lines is okay): I went overboard and made a Picrew, so...have that! Other than that, they're 5'10, lanky build, often can be found wearing chain jewelry and an assortment of rings. Personality: Ed will be quiet and supply only one word responses until you say something that they decide is worth responding to, and then they're suddenly loud and chatty verging on explosive. Selective extrovert, you could say. They have a resting....meanie face, which can put a lot of people off, but they're very touchy and huggy around their friends. Complaint, Complainer, or Controller? Complaint Other: They're into cosplay, extreme makeup looks, and grunge/rock music.
Wednesday shoved the door to the apartment open with the side of their shoulder.
Immediately, they were met by the sound of Kayson yelling "FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" at a volume that would be fitting for the entire audience of a rock concert. You really had to appreciate his lung capacity.
As they stepped through the doorway, Ed was greeted by a slippery carpet of gummy worms. They didn't know who had started the whole deal about bananas being a tripping technique, but they felt certain there was no way bananas were more dangerous than this sugary mess.
Standing just inside the apartment, in between mountains of discarded shoes, Ed took in the reason Kayson was screaming in the first place: a glorious battle of DnD nerds. Everyone was faux-violently tangled up with everyone else, swinging dramatic punches at pale, sun-starved cheeks and clumsily wielding intricately painted swords and staves.
"DO ANY OF YOU BUFFOONS WANT SOME POWDERED DONUTS?" Ed asked, waving the box of baked goods they had just retrieved vaguely towards the melee.
Receiving no response, they dodged their way over to the counter and set their treasure down next to a bowl of still steaming pizza rolls. Then, with all the elegance of a daddy long legs (which are decently elegant, Ed felt) they swiped a gummy worm from Paisley and brandished it aggressively, thwacking people's noses with the poor, slightly melted gummy. "BEWARE THE FIVE-HEARTED WORMS!"
239 words
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.
Name and pronouns: Mina Teoh (she/her) Age: 20 Appearance (just a few lines is okay): She is short, with a pudgy build and a cold beige complexion. She has chin-length messy black hair and brown wide-set eyes. Personality: Introverted, intelligent and brooding. Comically serious. She tends to find convoluted strategies to avoid direct confrontation with a problem, especially if that problem involves other people. Complaint, Complainer, or Controller? Complainer Other: She's a philosophy undergrad trying to write an essay.
It was dark in the corridor. Mina could smell the musty scent of waterlogged wallpaper floating in the air. But that wasn't her concern right now.
The ceiling was pulsating. It felt like it would collapse any minute. The words "BEWARE THE FIVE-HEARTED WORMS!" filtered in, as Mina stuck herself to the side of the wall (never mind the dampness) in fear of a bull charging through the corridor, or perhaps, yes, even a five-hearted worm, whatever that was.
Her eyes were opened wide in the dark. The drip-drip of water continued. There were more loud sounds, combined with impacts that sent the water dripping faster and faster.
To think that Mina had an essay due in a few days . . .
She looked up at the ceiling. Then, she glanced downward at the apartment unit that was bearing the brunt of the noisy neighbours, which belonged to one Mr. Benson.
At first, she'd come here thinking that Mr. Benson would already be marching outside, ready to combat the rascals, or report them to . . . someone. But he was nowhere in sight. Mina was not going to knock.
Instead, she began to climb the stairs up to the second floor. She didn't even know who to report this problem to. But maybe if the neighbours saw her standing there in her pajamas, they'd get the hint and tone it down. She just had to avoid all eye contact, avoid all conversation, and stand there looking puzzled, maybe glance at a few other units first to show that she wasn't immediately suspecting them, and to give them a chance to take action first.
Name and pronouns: Beatrice Wilde (she/they) Age: 19 Appearance (just a few lines is okay): Long brown hair she ties back into a braid. Short, with lean muscle. Personality: Homegirl's tired. She's an intern; she's not being paid. They're tired of constantly being called for teens being stupid. Save them. Complaint, Complainer, or Controller? Controller Other: They survive off of coffee and coffee alone.
Beatrice sipped her fifth cup of coffee of the night, rubbing her temples in exasperation. Chief Davidson decided to be a colossal pain in the neck and dump a half-ton worth of paperwork on her desk. They groaned, burying their face in their hands.
If she were being paid, it wouldn't be as bad, but as an unpaid intern being paid in ~experience,~ she was about three Word Documents from being a criminal herself.
At least that apartment hadn't called yet. Small blessings.
Her desk phone rang. With a heavy sigh, she picked it up. "Hello. Beatrice Wilde with the police department."
"It's Mr Benson again."
They groaned. "Of course it is. I'll take care of it." They hung up, draining her coffee in one more chug. So much for blessings.
She stood up and put on her police jacket. "I'm heading out to the Cavil Street apartments again."
Her fellow intern, George Robinson, hissed in sympathy. "Good luck."
"Yeah, thanks." She walked out, ready to yell at some teenagers. And then get a Venti iced coffee. She was going to need it.
183 Words
She/They/Fae
“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni “Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter “ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint
Mina was in! Or rather, she was up. The Lair of the Loud Noises was wide open, with people walking freely in and out of the doorway. Its inside was extremely colourful, and Mina recognised something that looked like . . . Gummy worms?
Regardless, she was ready. Regardless, the objection still holds, as Locke has failed to adequately define - SPLIT PARTICIPLE! . . . No, not now. Focus on the mission, Mina.
Mina took a deep breath . . . And stood. She stood there, glancing between one door and another. She folded her arms. She waited for someone to notice her.
For a moment, she imagined herself going inside and switching off the lights so everyone would pay attention. After all, the light switch was right there in the doorway. Who would put a light switch there if it was not meant to be pushed? Then, yes, she would ask them "Don't you know what time it is? Some people are trying to sleep!" Not that she was one of those people, no. But she was in her pajamas after all, and the character had to match the costume. It wasn't unethical to stretch the truth a bit, especially not while in a rumpled stretchy onesie that she really shouldn't be wearing outside . . . Except for pragmatic reasons.
Imagination Mina sure is a lot braver than real Mina. Real Mina shifted her weight from her right foot to her left foot. Still, no one noticed her. She realised there was only one thing left to do.
RETREAT!
Mina turned and began hurrying down the corridor. A piece of paper floated out of the pocket in her onesie. What was that? It couldn't be that important! All my essay notes are digital, it's fine.
It landed somewhere behind her, she knew, as she was going straight ahead towards the stairwell . . .
Ed had exhausted themself from all this worm dueling. They tossed their well-used gummy weapon onto the floor (which was already covered in empty chip bags and all orders of junk, so they felt it didn't matter at this point) and flopped onto a couch that was shoved as far as possible into the corner to accommodate the fighting. They ran their fingers through their hair in what they liked to imagine was an irresistibly attractive, nonchalant way.
This fight could use a soundtrack, Ed mused. They fished their phone out of their pocket, connected to the Bluetooth speaker, and selected He's a Pirate with a grin. Volume: cranked to 100%. All that was missing was some Jack Sparrow cosplay and this night would be literal perfection.
As the aggressive orchestral music flooded the room, Ed surveyed the scene with satisfaction. In the middle of the fight, someone was decked out in what looked to be...a suit of actual armor. It clanked noisily whenever the knight moved. That could not possibly be comfortable to wear, Ed thought, impressed by the dedication.
They scanned the rest of the room. Was that -- who was standing in the doorway? In a onesie? Ed squinted. Maybe they should listen to their mom and actually book an eye appointment, like she keeps nagging them to.
The person turned abruptly and disappeared from view.
Ed's curiosity had been piqued. They wrapped themself in a wizard cape that someone had throw over the couch arm, picked their way around the edge of the room, and stepped out into the hallway. Slightly dingy green carpet stretched to the right, interrupted only by a random, fallen over CAUTION: SLIPPERY WHEN WET sign. How a carpet could possibly become slippery when wet, Ed did not know.
And...there was no one in sight. Ed started to turn back around, already bored by this hallway expedition.
Wait a second. What was that white paper laying on the floor over there? It was probably a boring receipt or something, but maybe someone had dropped a coupon to McDonald's. Or maybe it was a winning lottery ticket. You never know. Well, Ed knew it was definitely not a winning lottery ticket, but a person's got to dream a little.
Ed picked it up, flipping it over in their hand. "No. Way." It was a lottery ticket. Unscratched, and most probably not a winning one, but still. Fortune telling much?
They returned quickly to the apartment, brandishing the ticket above their head. "HEY NERDS!" Right. The blaring music. No one would hear them over that. They pried their phone from between a couple couch cushions, paused the music, and tried again.
"NERDS! WHO WANTS TO WIN THE LOTTERY TONIGHT?"
459 words
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.
Mina was walking down the stairs when she suddenly remembered what it was she had stuffed into her onesie pocket. A lottery ticket. She'd bought it that day because she'd had the crazy idea to use it in a philosophical experiment on moral intuitions. It was a ticket she had gotten based on some very hard-won calculations for this particular draw. She was about 80% sure it would win a prize.
The experiment was supposed to go like this: if someone had a lottery ticket that was very likely to be a winning one, but it wasn't theirs, would they keep it or return it to the original owner? And now she'd lost the material for her experiment! To be fair, it might not be that big a catastrophe. She had yet to receive approval from an ethics commission for the experiment, and so could not conduct it yet. But being without the ticket made her feel strangely lightweight.
She began to turn back. It would be so bothersome if she had to repeat all those calculations again! But then, she stopped. Her essay was due very soon. She needed to work on it. Her experiment was only due at the end of the year. Surely, there would be time to get a new lottery ticket by then right?
She found herself caught at the bottom of the flight of stairs, unable to decide which way to go, until the frustration simply boiled over. That's it! She needed to grab a cup of coffee. Literally, from anywhere. Mina began walking away from either of her supposed destinations, in search of a good mug of coffee.
Man, his sister needed to go out of town more often. He hadn't had this much fun in ages. Gummy worm duels. Pirate theme music. LOOT?!
"Eyyyyy!" Kayson popped upright from where he'd settled upside-down on the back of the couch, watching the legs of people jostling back and forth in front of him. Sure, he got kicked a few times in the scuffle -- but what was a brawl if not a risk worth taking? "You rigged the lottery?"
There was a loud rap on the door.
"Publisher Clearing House, dat youuuuu?" Kayson said playfully, a broad grin on his face as he pulled the door open. He furrowed his brow and looked at the girl standing in the hall. There was no giant check in her hands. No camera crew. "Apparently not... who you?"
"u and rina are systematically watering down the grammar of yws" - Atticus "From the fish mother to the fish death god." - lehmanf "A fish stole my identity. I blame shady" - Omni [they/he]
Shark sat forward in his desk chair and ran a hand over his masked face in exasperation. He hadn't been assigned to any complaints yet but there was a lot of noise coming from a room near Mr. Benson's. He was told to await calls and patrol the halls for suspicious behavior.
Though he hadn't been called the noise was suspicious. Suspicious enough to be investigated. He was sure another unit would be called in to take care of it.No he wasn't curious, no it didn't sound fun.
He opened up his office and walked towards the noise. Once he arrived at the door he noticed that he wasn't alone. " Too noisy? " he asked.
"i dont slay i slaughter, luke i am your father..." ~fatherfig
“It’s never been this noisy, Mister Martinez. At least I could sleep the last time. Now it’s all just screaming and noise. And I’m worried, you know? My grandson was just born. What if I want Benji to visit and they decide to have another shouting match?” She said, waving her arms frantically in a way that begged to be angry but there was worry in the way she flapped them about - as if searching for words to say how she felt but not finding them.
“I figured it couldn’t be this quiet in the office. It never is. By now I would of thought Mr Benson would have knocked down the door, at least.”
Layla smiled sadly. “Are we just going to talk. I’m old. I still have work in the morning. I can’t afford to sleep in, not if I want to keep my apartment.”
“No need to worry m’am. Matters will be dealt with shortly. Hopefully with the next 10 minutes or so we’ll have them under control. Now get ready for bed. No more need to worry. Understand?”
She looked up at him unashamedly. “I’ll be back if it isn’t. As long as you understand that.”
Martinez looked across at the elderly woman shivering in her nightgown. “You won’t need to be.”
Swan Queen's little sister in-law/caretaker since 2022
Ed rolled their eyes at Kayson. "If you think I hold the influence required to rig a lottery I'm not going to tell you otherwise."
He looked like he was about to shoot back a response, but someone started knocking rather aggressively at the door and he jumped up to respond to it instead. "Sheesh, someone really needed to let out their hatred for the world," Paisely commented, sliding up next to Ed. "What's the grand prize for the rigged ticket?"
"Yeah, the totally rigged ticket I just found. Uh..." They glanced down, realizing they hadn't looked that closely at the paper. "Oh, wow, two million."
When you're faced with something you don't understand, I think the most natural thing but also least interesting thing you can be is afraid.
There was a small coffee shop on the road opposite the apartment, and that was where Mina was headed. On the way, she saw a person passing by that vaguely looked like a police officer, but she paid them no mind. After all, it was possible she only imagined they looked like a police officer based off of a scrap of blue clothing or a stern demeanour. What was a police-officer-look anyway?
Those thoughts drifted in and out of her sleepy mind as she headed to the counter of the coffee shop and pointed silently at her favourite black coffee. The barista nodded and started pouring.
Mina idly read the menu that was printed and hung behind the barista. One of the items was a Venti iced coffee. Mina wasn't really sure what that was, because she'd only ever ordered black coffee from this place. She mentally shrugged it off and decided to focus on counting her money instead. She made sure it was the exact amount plus the tip and handed it over.
Then, she wandered over to a table to sit and enjoy her coffee.
As soon as Beatrice stepped in the apartment complex, they could hear screaming. She rubbed her temples, a small groan slipping past her lips.
This was going to be a long night.
She climbed up the stairs and knocked on perpetrators’ door. “Beatrice Wilde with the Police Department! Open this door!”
No response. Now the screaming stopped. Groaning, they knocked again. They didn’t have time for this. “Open this door!”
When no one responded again, she almost lost it. She knocked as hard as she could without injuring herself! “I said open this door!”
When she went to knock again, the door finally swung open.
105 Words
She/They/Fae
“the wist i knew would never allow a straight boy in their stories” ~Omni “Hi Omni can I request wist get the role mom friend :]" ~winter “ah yes, fear Wist's smile :) <- speaks of layers and layers of secrets” ~mint
Words are pale shadows of forgotten names. As names have power, words have power. Words can light fires in the minds of men. Words can wring tears from the hardest hearts. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
Gender:
Points: 2806
Reviews: 935