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What a sweet story! The song that Werner sings at the end…is that a real song or did you create it?
"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."~ Jim Elliot
@ellette-giselle @liberty @highscribeofaetherium @whalekeeper @acancello @trailblazer @the_lost-journal @jonas @thearcaneaxiom @freed_and_redeemed @rae @raxforge *launches snowballs rapid-fire* YOU’VE BEEN SNOWBALLED!
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis
AUGH! I already have 100 words to write! Now this?
*sobs quietly*
A donation has been made in your name to the Human Fund: Money for People.
Being forced to be active on KP and make progress on my writing? I can’t tell if I should be mad or grateful, lol!
He is perfect in Justice, yet He is perfect in Mercy, even when we fail Him. For this, He is good.
Hey, you can do it! It’s just 150. 😁
Lol. I was trying to engage some of the less-active KPers. 😉 You can always save it for later.
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis
Don’t complain! I have three snowballs-worth of words to write (at least). When I have time to write them, you’ll all be sorry! 😈
*laughs insanely*
🏰 Fantasy Writer
✨ Magic System Creator
🎭 Character RPer
📚 Appreciator of BooksThat’s your fault. You haven’t been doing them.
A donation has been made in your name to the Human Fund: Money for People.
Thanks. I’m not actually upset, I was just being silly :p
A donation has been made in your name to the Human Fund: Money for People.
…Stuff…
You’ve read snippets of it before I think.
Sorry for giving you a hard time about keeping secrets and then turning around and doing the same thing, lol. You’re just very fun to tease 😛
It takes a long time to wait 🌻
I know 🤪
Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. ~ C.S. Lewis
AAHHHHH! I’ve been snowballed 3 times already!!!!! Now I have to write 200 words!!!!!! Well, you’ll get to here the next part of Dale’s story!
"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."~ Jim Elliot
@hybridlore @calyhuge @loopylin @theshadow
Okay! Here are my 411 words to your 4 snowballs! By the way, thanks for giving me tons of snowball POWER!!!!! I get to hit 8 people!!!!!
@hybridlore As promised, here is the next installment of the Kingdom Pen story! I can’t wait to write the next part! (*hm*…am I asking to be snowballed? Maybe?)Anyway…
Leaving his bag at the desk, he crossed the room to the far right corner and opened the door. Beyond a stretch of crimson carpet stood another door, much alike to one he’d just opened. Dale stepped out of the room and into a long sweeping hallway that disappeared beyond a curve.
The feeling that fell upon Dale was like entering a coliseum. The walls soared high into the distant ceiling, papered with scarlet and gold swirls. The young man stood in awe at the majestic sight. Rich paintings drawn from all eras and worlds decorated the walls, evenly spaced between dark walnut doors.
The reverent silence lasted a few moments. The silence remained, but the reverence dissolved into his ever-increasing frustration.
Taking each step with haste and urgency, the young man marched down the hallway. Door after door he passed. Painting after fanciful painting swept behind him. He got halfway down the extensive hall before abruptly halting.
“Hello?!”
His voice only echoed the slightest bit.
“HELLO!”
Silence.
Everything is so, so wrong! This place is like a giant, deserted—haunted house! Angry began seeping into Dale.
He shouted at the top of his capacity. “Is anyone even here?!!!!”
He strained his ears, hoping to catched the fainted reply. The lone echo of his dying words taunted him. Laughed at him. Dale heaved a sigh.
Nothing.
Then, something sounded. Something. It was so faint he would have missed it totally if he hadn’t already been striving to catch the quietest noise.
Dale stared down the hallway to where it curved and disappeared. He hadn’t been able to even distinguish what the sound was, but it came from beyond the curve.
He set out, striding briskly like a man on a mission. He was on a mission.
Down the crimson hall he went, ever approaching the curve. As he neared closer, his sharp ears caught the sound of noises again, but it was still too muffled and faint to make out what the noise was.
He came up on the curve and turned into it. The crimson hallway abruptly ended, as a large marbled space loomed ahead. It was open and filled with light unlike the lamp-lit hallway. He stopped, once again taken aback at the sudden change in the interior surroundings.
Like a canary bird breaking winter’s silence with a merry warble, the noise Dale had repeatedly heard sounded once again. Crisply and clearly.
He immediately knew what it was.
Laughter.
@highscribeofaetherium @jonas (ha, ha! I’m adding a 4th to you!) @ellette-giselle (Yes! My favorite person to hit!)
@freed_and_redeemed @trailblazer (How are you doing? Are you still writing about the Revolutionary War? Sorry we had to remeet this way *you’re scrubbing snow off your face*, but it’s still amazing!) @powerYou have all been greatly privileged to be chosen by me to hit! Now…write or die!!!
"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose."~ Jim Elliot
I haven’t read any backstory snippets for Fel. 🤨
Nah you’re okay, I love teasing too. Take one more snowball, madam. 😜
…
I know at least one person hit me with snow, so I wrote this just to cover all my debts.
Bast set the basket of cookies next to the old man’s armchair. There were surely more chores to do, but there wasn’t enough time. He hurriedly unplugged the faulty lamp and made sure nothing flammable lay near the lights.
The clock grinned down at him from the staircase, half in shadow. As the arm hit the hour, the radio hummed to life, with soft hums and whispers crackling through the walls of the house.
The senior followed his little visitor out the door, and waved his cane around. “Aren’t you a sweet baby?”
“Thank you sir.” Bast smiled, ears reddening a little as he gave the man a kiss on his wrinkled cheek. He hopped over to his bicycle. “If it’s all the same to you, Mister Hoover, you can call me Bast. I’m growing up!”
“Don’t be such a troublemaker!” Hoover shook his finger, and stared happily into space.
Bast’s smile faltered.
What was Mister Hoover looking at? A soft tail brushed over Bast’s ankles, and he looked down, picking up the cat with mild laughter. He set it on Hoover’s shoulder and pedaled off down the lane of pale, swinging trees.
Looking back over his shoulder, biting his lip, Bast could still see the white-haired grandfather facing the other side of the street. He didn’t even look in Bast’s direction, only waved his finger back and forth. The front of his house fell behind the silvery branches of the neighborhood avenue, and out of sight.
“Everything is a mountain”
Oh good! I enjoy that scene from the Christmas Carol too. It’s a good book.
NO WAY!!!
meanwhile I have a charrie who watched his family die, his home destroyed and his clan wiped out
I’ve got that. *Glances over at Joseph*
another who never knew what it was to be a kid, who killed people from an early age
That’s like every kid the in The AAO series!
and another who was created in a lab with mental links to his brothers who were all killed, brothers he watched being created and even named…plus his father is the worst person in the Galaxy
Haven’t got that yet, but I’ve certainly thought about it.
Man, we have very similar backstory ideas.
Man is born for the fight, to be forged and molded into a sharper, finer, stronger image of God
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