#DWC2022
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November DWC Day 2 - Illusion
With a few twists of his wrist, Rhys finished installing the projector on the ceiling of his new room, and now it was the moment of truth! Flipping off the lightswitch, he picked up the little remote and clicked it on: The room was suddenly bathed in shades of blues and purples, with little white specks of light scattered all over. The illusion was very convincing, it looked like he was staring into space itself when glancing around his ceiling and walls. This was perfect for those cold winter nights when he didn’t want to be outside; he could bring the outside in.
The room had been a serious upgrade from the previous one. It still occupied the same space above the barn of the farm he worked on, but the owners of the farm decided he was overdue for something a little more suitable for a young bachelor. He was able to do most of the decorating himself, opting for brighter colors, art of sunflowers, and photographs of the farm animals he helped raise littering the walls. It was perfect, and it was his.
The Padleys had even allowed him to plant a small field of sunflowers in an unused area of their land, knowing of his love to lay in the neighboring farm’s field on his days off. His sunflowers had managed to grow larger than those of any of their neighbors; turns out that Rhys was a natural green thumb. After that, the farmer often asked for Rhys’s input when he was planting for the year, and the farm thrived with their combined knowledge.
Life was good.
“Wees...” Apparently the name ‘Rhys’ was not easy for a toddler to say. The little girl made ‘uppy arms’ at him, and he swooped her up and set her atop his shoulders.
“Do you like it, Lia?” She gave a quick nod, stretching her little hands out towards the stars. “You’re welcome to come up and look at the stars with me anytime, but only if your mom says it’s okay. Speaking of, we should get you back down to your parents, it’s almost dinnertime.”
Aurelia was a surprise for the Padleys. They were both older in age, and Mrs. Padley had assumed that ship had sailed years ago. Their other children were grown adults and living their own lives now. Yet here they were, blessed with a bright and bubbly little blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl. Rhys had taken to the role of ‘part-time babysitter’ quite well, he had a special bond with the little girl from the start.
Of course, they all knew the truth.
Mr. Padley had been sterile for years.
@daily-writing-challenge
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November DWC Day 1 - Neglect
Warnings: Small mentions of alcoholism, drug use, and a lil’ bit of body horror
Companion piece to Garren’s Day 1 found ---> HERE
If someone had asked Xylaes five years ago where he thought he would be right now, the answer would not have been still living and working in a brothel. He had big plans to reunite his family, buy a house together, and live happily ever after. Yet the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry, as they say. Honestly it was the story of Xy’s life up until this point, and he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
It had been done before, he had heard about it and seen it with his own two eyes: Taking a soul out of the Shadowlands and implanting them back onto Azeroth. It wasn’t an easy process, nor was it cheap, but Callia would have been worth it. He could have his wife back, they could have their son and be a real family. Unfortunately, the missing piece of the puzzle was the most important: Her willingness. Xylaes knew a part of her yearned for that lost life, but she was never one to fuck with fate. Her time on Azeroth was over, and she would not go back.
After the Shadowlands closed up, losing his wife for a second time broke him in a different way than it had before. Back then he had something very tangible on which to take out his rage: They had stolen her life, so he would steal theirs, and he did just that. But now that it was her own decision to remain behind? He had nowhere to put that anger except towards himself.
He found comfort in the bottle as he had before, and alcoholism was one of the first bad habits to return. He couldn’t remember much from those first two months after the Shadowlands portals were closed. It was always easier for him to drink away the pain rather than wallow in it. Because of this, he began losing regular clients and quickly found himself walking on very thin ice with his employers. Thankfully they were friends and understanding of his situation, but there were moments when he probably should have been fired and thrown out onto the streets.
He had blown all of his savings on drugs and gambling within half a year; money he had been saving up to buy himself, and his son Garren, a new home. All that hard work so quickly and so easily gone. For a while, he had found it difficult to even look at Garren. So much of him resembled Callia, and Xylaes found it too painful of a reminder of what he had just lost…again. Their relationship suffered; Xylaes often canceled plans or just completely neglected to show up at all. It wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t how things were supposed to go at all, but the depression had taken hold and he found it difficult to do just about anything.
It wasn’t until he woke up behind bars, bruised and bloodied, bleeding from a hole in his thigh, and missing three fingernails on his right hand with zero collection of how any of this came to be that he decided he needed to get his shit together. Again. There was a threat of more prison time and a steep bail set, but for some inexplicable reason, Xylaes had people in high places still on his side that cared about him. He was embarrassed and ashamed, Callia would have detested this version of Xylaes. He owed it to her, and to Garren, and mostly to himself, to pull himself together and become the father that Garren deserved, and the friend that those who stuck by his side deserved.
The following years were spent in and out of rehab, going to plenty of therapy, and making amends with all of those whom he had wronged. While not once did he regret reuniting Callia in Maldraxxus, he could admit that maybe he shouldn’t have gotten so attached again. He often wondered how she handled their separation, if she was just as angry or sad, and how she coped. On occasion he would sit in the portal room in Orgrimmar, staring at the empty space where the portal to Oribos once was, willing it to open again. It was a dream he needed to let go of and start focusing on his future, but for a man like Xylaes it was always difficult to let go of the past.
These days life was more stable. He still lived and worked in the brothel but his debts were all paid and he was now over a year sober. The temptation still remained, but had to admit that he felt healthier now than he had in a while.
Light had just begun to peek through the cracked curtains to his room when he heard a soft rapping at his door. With a squint, he glanced over to the nude feminine figure still sleeping next to him, and then towards the door. No one was supposed to bother him while he was ‘working’, so whatever this was must be important. With a grunt, he rolled off the bed and pulled on his robe before cracking the door open just enough to slip out and shut it behind him, talking in a whispered tone, “What do you want?”
The guard looked up at him and then towards the steps, “Umm…your son is here? Says he messaged you like…an hour ago.”
Xylaes wiped some of the groggy out of his eyes, staring blankly as the words processed through his mind. He hadn’t checked his comm since yesterday evening. “Wait, he’s here? You let him in here? Fuck sake.” He was already halfway down the hall when he waved at his room, “Can you tell her an emergency came up?”
He had taken care not to fully disclose his profession to his son, leaving the details vague and maybe a bit misleading. He had told him the name of the place in case of an emergency, that thought immediately made him hurry faster down the steps and into the lobby. “Garren, what’s wrong?” It took him a split second to notice the suitcase and a wide-eyed Garren looking around the place while slowly making connections in his head.
“Ohh, no. Nothing’s wrong. I ummm…I need a place to stay. Can I stay …here with you?” The words trailed off near the end of that question, still a touch uncertain as to what ‘here’ was.
“No.” The response was a little more aggressive than anticipated, and Xylaes quickly tried to soften his tone into something more reassuring. “I mean, you would need to work here to…” He waves a hand, that was NOT going to happen. “How about you meet me over in the Legerdemain Lounge, grab yourself a coffee, and we’ll figure something out, okay? Okay.” He shoved some change that was in his bathrobe pocket into Garren’s hand and practically shoved him out the door towards the Lounge. “I’ll be right there!”
“Shit..” he grumbled under his breath, although there was also some giddy anticipation there beneath the shock. His son came to him for help, that was a first! He rushed back into his room and tossed on some clothing, grabbed his comm device, and made for the door. There were two people he knew he could ask a favor of; as much as he detested asking for help, he knew he didn’t have much of a choice at this moment. His kid needed a place to stay and he did not currently have the money to make that happen, but he knew someone with extra rooms, and right here in Dalaran to boot.
He sent off a quick message to Fio as he made his way to the lounge, “Garren showed up at the Moon needing a place to live, do you have an extra room he could use until I figure something else out?”
@daily-writing-challenge
@garrennorassin @fio-renze
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November Daily Writing Challenge Day 1 - Neglect
Last June
His birthday had come and gone with little fanfare, but it had been that way for years now, hadn’t it? However, this was a milestone birthday, he was officially an adult, even though he yearned for the days when his grandparents would spoil him with sweets and gifts before gathering at the beach with his friends to have a big party. Ever since Teldrassil was burnt down, nothing had been the same. He lost his home, his remaining family, and many of his friends, all within a span of a couple hours. How terrible, yet strange it was to have everything you’ve ever known snatched away from you in the blink of an eye.
He sat in the small room he had spent the last few years in, staring at the lone, packed suitcase on the ground. The suitcase itself had been a gift from his guardians; that came with the mostly unspoken caveat that he needed to vacate their house. They were expecting a baby and needed the space, and now that Garren was of age he was no longer their burden to bear. The promise made to his grandparents had been kept, and they were now free of him. Not that he could blame them for wanting him gone, he wasn’t the most well-behaved under their guardianship and there wasn’t much else to do around the refugee camps in Moonglade other than finding trouble. He had become quite good at that.
In truth, he was happy to go. The word neglect might have been a little too harsh, but there were days when he had gone hungry and he had never felt an ounce of love or care from these ‘family friends’. He had spent most of his days off in the woods with his mother’s bow and quiver, and arrows that he made himself. It had always felt like he was just biding his time until this moment, and now he was ready for his next chapter.
There was only one place he could think to go, and the only family he had left. His father, Xylaes, had recently entered his life - after Garren had spent the majority of his formative years assuming the man to be dead. Theirs was a rocky relationship, but Garren could appreciate that Xylaes would answer all of his questions bluntly and honestly, even if they made him out to be the villain. In this case, he was in a way, but the older man had his reasons, paid a very steep price, and was desperate to get back into his son’s good graces. Not to mention his mother Callia had literally sent word from beyond to the grave to tell him to give Xy a chance, that he was a good man despite it all. But that was a story for another time.
Even if Garren had yet to feel that familial love towards his father, he felt, no, he knew that the older man loved him and would do anything and everything for him. Something he had not felt since his grandparents were alive. Although there was still a lot of anger, resentment, and distrust there, Garren desperately wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere again and this was the best place to start.
With a sigh, he picked up his suitcase and left; having already said his goodbyes, he headed straight towards the portal to Dalaran. Perhaps he should have told Xylaes of his plans, or lack thereof, but there was a slight feeling of exhilaration in heading off towards the unknown.
@daily-writing-challenge
@xylaes
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November DWC Day 4 - Vision
A slight follow-up to these stories:
Part 1 - Red
Part 2 - Taric
Red squinted down at the latest comm message that had chimed the night prior on his phone. While he was never one to give away too many emotions in his expression, the ‘what the fuck’ look was obvious. Zalan-fucking-drissa. A name he used to be quite familiar with, although it had now been..what? Five years? Who was even keeping track anymore. She wanted to figure out somewhere to meet and catch up. Right, because Red was known for his desire for small talk and hanging out with people that had a tendency to disappear for months, or years, at a time. They would more than likely run into each other at some point, but she could sweat it out for a while longer.
He rolled his eyes and tossed the device aside before crawling out of his bed, in his apartment. Planting roots wasn’t in Red’s nature, but he had to admit that having all of his belongings in one location was a welcome change - not that he owned much in the first place. Nobody knew where he lived aside from those closest to him, and he planned on keeping it just that way for the foreseeable future. The less visitors, the better.
Not that it would matter come next week; they would be shipping off to the Dragon Isles for who knows how long. New land meant new opportunities, especially for those in the ‘salvaging’ business. The whole mood surrounding this adventure was much different than what he had experienced when it came to the Shadowlands. There came an uncertainty with stepping foot into the Afterlives, especially knowing that a certain someone was likely there and waiting for him.
And just as he predicted, she most certainly had been.
He eyed the small, sealed box covered in filigree sitting above his mantle with a little smirk. Bianca had always thought she was so much smarter than him, yet her egotism often clouded her judgement. Which was saying a lot given just how egotistical Red himself could be at times. He had found her just as he thought he would, although it was more likely that she had found him. The Maw was a fitting afterlife for her, but she had entered on her own accord, specifically seeking him. Even in death, their bond was undeniable, he could feel her constant pull and sway and assumed it to be similar for her.
She was there, right in Gorgoa with him and Taric. She wormed his way into his already susceptible mind and gave him false visions, using his own hate against him and he had nearly killed his nephew because of it. The two has brushed it off later, knowing fully well that the River of Souls could seriously mentally fuck you; but Red knew better. He felt her presence there. So later, when everyone else was asleep or otherwise occupied, he returned by himself, prepared for this very scenario.
Bianca was now back where she belonged, trapped and displayed on his mantle like a prize. No one asked about the ornate box, assuming it to be decoration, that, knowing Red, more than likely housed a variety of drugs. That was the truth, in a way. Knowing exactly where Bianca was at all times and especially knowing she could do nothing to him gave him a high that no amount of dust or thistle ever could. Maybe it was weird to keep such a malicious spirit in his personal space, but it was much, much better than any of the alternatives.
He raised his mug of coffee towards her personal prison in cheers, “Try not to miss me too much when I’m gone.”
@taricdarkmorn
@zalandrissa-highvale
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November DWC Day 3 - Mortality
He had forgotten just how quiet the house could be without his sister Kara around. She had moved out about a year ago now despite his assurances that she was more than welcome to stay as long as she needed. She wanted to give him his space, but mostly she was finally ready for her own space as well. It was comforting knowing that she could make it on her own, and that he didn’t have to worry as much about her. He still would, of course, that was his job. They still visited each other on a regular basis, and would have the occasional sleepover that usually involved barbeque and animal onesies. But he had to admit, he missed having that constant presence in his house.
Perhaps it wasn’t her specifically, but just having someone around to break the insufferable silence. He dropped the book he had been reading with an annoyed sigh onto his lap and glanced up to the clock on his wall. 8pm. It was still early, yet all he wanted to do was to go to bed and hope that tomorrow morning would rid him of this hollow feeling inside his chest and these creeping thoughts of his own mortality.
Things were, by all accounts, going well in his life. Amberlight Smithing was thriving and had no shortage in work, the Tarts continued to perform in front of crowds all over Azeroth, and the ‘other job’ afforded him small luxuries whenever he desired. Yet here he was, unable to escape his own melancholic feelings and intrusive thoughts.
Even though the two still had a lot of love for each other, Dyra and he had split a while ago. It was neither of their faults, they just never managed to be on the same page. She was still more of a free spirit, and he was ready to settle down and start a family. It had been a long time since he had seen her, and he wasn’t expecting her to show up and work the After Dark show. He had felt that familiar pang of grief when he saw her, and again when she whispered those sweet, loving words into his ear that caught him off guard.
They eventually departed with the promise to see each other again soon; he by himself, and she - in true Dyra fashion - with a group of others, so he found out later through Ryland. That stung more than he thought it would.
He picked up his comm and flipped through his contacts, pausing on Dyra briefly and considering before continuing to scroll. Everyone he typically would have messaged tonight he already knew to be busy, and even then he wasn’t sure he wanted to bother anyone while he felt this way. He tossed the device across the room onto a chair so he wouldn’t be tempted, nothing good ever came from sad texting. He scooped up the rainbow shawl sitting on his nightstand and pressed it to the lower half of his face, breathing in the scent. Of course it no longer smelled of his late wife, but it was still a comforting gesture. After clicking off his light, he rolled over and attempted to find some sleep. Tomorrow will be better.
@the-purple-elf @succulent-tart @rylandfalkov
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November DWC Day 6 - Home
The years of peace were…bizarre. Unnatural. Given their recent track record, they were lucky to go a month without some sort of war breaking out. At first, Pollux expected to return to the field at any moment; always prepared for that scenario with bags packed, armor at the ready, and weapons cleaned and sharpened. A month passed, and then another month, and after a year without any deployment, Pollux found himself finally settled back into the civilian lifestyle. As much as a man like him could be, at least.
At times he was content to be home, able to spend more time with Khaeris and focus on creating updated prosthetics. Other times, he found himself staring blankly out the window, feeling like something was missing and unsure of what to fill that void with. He had found a partial answer in asking Khaeris to move in with him. They were well overdue for the ‘next step’ of their relationship, and she had been staying over most nights regardless. It made sense. Most people that had been dating this long would have likely already been married by this point. It was a thought that occurred to him, but the two seemed content with what they had. That would be a conversation for later.
A nearby store had recently gone out of business, and Pollux was quick to purchase the empty shop and move his workshop there instead. The two deserved an actual bedroom, and it was a chance for Khaeris to put her own personal touch on their now shared home. His apartment was fairly drab and he had grown fond of how colorful she preferred her spaces to be, so it was a welcome change. Khaeris wasn’t the only roommate that he had gained; Sunny, her sunfur panda, also made the move. He had to admit it was nice having a little fuzzy critter around the house, but come nighttime he was definitely not allowed in their bedroom per Pollux’s request - much to Sunny’s dismay.
Life was good, and honestly it was the time that they needed together.
Of course, peace never lasted forever. They both expected this day to eventually come, but after three years of being able to be home and be together, it was going to be extra difficult to leave this time. His orders came in, and while much of the military was shipped off to the various elemental storms, he was being sent directly to the Dragon Isles. They shared a lengthy goodbye, and knowing that comms would work made things much easier than it had been with the Shadowlands. As hard as it was to leave her, Pollux was eager and ready to get back on the field.
@kharrisdawndancer
@daily-writing-challenge
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DWC November 2022 - Day 1: Instinct/Neglect
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The thing about dreams coming true... is that they often take far longer to actually begin than one would like. It was for the best, however, that the Expedition was taking so long to get ready... and the storms were taking time to clear - the noblewoman could thus ensure that she wasn't neglecting her daughter, by taking on this newest venture.
When Caitiri had been younger, it had been less of a concern - a child so young that they hardly notice the length of time that you're gone is something else entirely from a child ten years of age, who begins to ask to go with you; who begins to ask questions about where you go, what you do, why she has to stay home - and the irony of it all was that Lily understood what that was like, and hated being the bad guy - the one who said no to fun. She didn't impress upon her young daughter the importance of noble frivolities, however, as her aunt had done to her... but it was important that the girl get an education... and stay safe.
Lilliana had never really... intended to have children. The circumstances of Caitiri's birth were unusual, and her biological father long since fled - leaving the young woman to fumble with trying to learn to be something she'd never really wanted to be - a mother.
She'd managed, until now, but the years had gone by faster than she'd expected, and the girl's tenth birthday had come and gone over the summer... double digits, at last. She didn't resent the girl - that much was impossible. But it did limit how she'd wanted to live her life - dangerously, and on the go.
Typically, leaving Caitiri meant leaving her with Eryth - he'd begun acting as Lilliana's seneschal in recent years, and had taken it upon himself to love his friend's child as if the girl were his own; but this time, they were both leaving. Without him... there were others who could run her estate, but only one person left to whom she could entrust her child, and it was the woman who had made her own childhood hellish.
She'd spoken to her aunt at length, over the years since, however. The woman was still stiff, but had long since admitted to her own faults in how she'd handled having a child thrust upon her when she hadn't been ready - her brother's daughter suddenly there... impetuous and rebellious. They had been the only family left to one another, so they'd had to struggle though their own grief and growing pains at the same time - neither really ready for what life had thrown at them with the fall of Quel'thalas.
This, then... trusting her own child to the aunt that had made her childhood so difficult? This would be a true test of faith...and hopefully... hopefully Caitiri would understand, in time, herself.
#dwc2022#dwc november#daily writing challenge#WoW RP#Sin'dorei#Dragonflight#family#she didn't have much of a family growing up#and while she loves her kid#she is a pretty absent mother#a bit intentionally so she won't be a bad influence on her#or so she tells herself#she's the busy parent in the Hallmark Christmas movie#better late than never#playing catch-up on prompts
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August Daily Writing Challenge Day 3 - Sentimental
Ryland had never considered himself a sentimental man, there was no room for that in his current lifestyle. Lovers had come and gone over the years without a second thought; fleeting distractions that could rarely hold his interest. He would almost always grow bored or find some new distraction to capture his attention within weeks or months.
There was a part of him that felt bad, especially towards the ones that had proclaimed deep feelings. But in the end, it felt good to be loved and to be spoiled. He could admit it was selfish in a way, but he had never led any of them to believe there would be more than he was willing to give. He would simply stop coming around as much and fade away from their lives. It saved them from the heartache, and it saved him from conversations he would prefer never to have in those types of ‘situationships’. A win for all, right?
He was still young and carefree, witty and charming with the world at his fingertips. He often got his way - many found it difficult to say no to that alluring smirk.
Maybe it was for the best that things didn’t go as planned with Sela.
He immediately paled at that horrible, intrusive thought. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last. He would give anything to have her still alive, she didn’t deserve the end she was given. He didn’t deserve the loss he had gone through either.
But we were so young, could that have actually worked out?
He growled in anger at himself and looked over at the nearby clock - just after midnight. Clubs and bars would still be open. He rolled out of bed, threw on some clothes, and tousled his hair before heading out the door. Time to find another distraction before the bad thoughts completely took over.
@daily-writing-challenge
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November Daily Writing Challenge Day 4 - Vision
Kara touched the skin just below her left eye, pulling her lower lid down as she studied her typically milky eye in the mirror. The scarring was gone on and around her eye and she couldn’t stop staring at just how different she felt she looked without that hideous flaw. She still had no vision in that eye, it was just a simple glamour that would eventually fade away; but it was a trick that could be applied again and again whenever she wanted. The same thing had been done to the scarring around her wrists and her ankles, making her appear as if the attack and kidnapping all those years ago had never occurred.
Today she was having professional pictures taken to promote her very first solo gallery opening. She had shared the spotlight a handful of times before with other up and coming artists, but this time it would be just her. Vixannya had become a mentor to the young elf; the other woman had been in this business for decades and was good at spotting, and promoting, new talent. She had taken Kara under her wing and expanded her talents in ways she thought impossible. It was nice having a strong female role model once again. After the death of her mother and Dicenne’s wife, she wasn’t certain there would be another.
“You look positively stunning, my dear. Are you ready?” Vixannya wiggled her fingers towards the woman, beckoning her on.
“In a moment..” Kara looked back into the mirror once more, then down at her scar-free wrists with a small frown. It was her own idea to glamour away the disfigurements for the photographs, assuming it would make her feel more confident and prettier.
But it didn’t.
In fact, it made her feel so much worse. The reality was she wasn’t doing it for herself, she was doing it to make herself more palatable for others. They would stare and look at her differently, wanting to ask but too afraid, since clearly she had suffered some sort of horrible trauma. But that was part of who she was, and what made her the woman she is today.
“Take it off.”
“What was that?”
“TAKE IT OFF, I DON’T LIKE IT.” She cleared her throat, immediately giving Vixannya an apologetic look for taking such a sharp tone. “I’m sorry. I want to be me, fully me, in this picture.”
Annya gave the younger elf a heartfelt smile, and with a wave of her hand the glamours disappeared. Crouching down behind her, she pulled Kara’s hair away from her face to showcase the scarring. “Perfect. Now everyone will know exactly what a badass you are. Never apologize for being you.”
Kara couldn’t help but chuckle at that, nodding in agreement.
She WAS a badass.
@vixannya
@daily-writing-challenge
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November Daily Writing Challenge Day 2 - Illusion
Aerden sat inside one of the small rooms within the Shielded Mind clinic, flipping idly through a comic book that he had already read at least twice before. It was a quiet day, which all in all was a good thing: Any day was a good day when he’s not having to heal a broken bone or mend a laceration. But it also made for an extremely boring day. Once upon a time he would have treasured a free day, just lounging around listening to music and reading, but now he felt impatient. Useless.
He finally understood why Pollux and so many others in the military were so eager to get back onto the field after a long absence. Being deployed and heading towards the unknown could be scary, but it was also extremely exhilarating. He fit in there, he was looked up to there. It was still such a peculiar feeling seeing as how it felt like only yesterday he was on the field for the first time running away in terror from the action. And now, he had been promoted and rewarded for his bravery in the field. Time really was an illusion when it came to this war-riddled world.
Yet somehow years managed to pass without any major conflict and Aerden, along with his military brethren, had to figure out how to settle back into civilian life. They still trained frequently, and Aerden had doubled his sessions with Cazmilan to learn things the military would not, or did not know how to teach him. Eventually he had grown accustomed to this new schedule, but there were still days like today that he found himself wanting more than having to wait around for someone to show up at the clinic that needed his help.
At least there was one thing to look forward to tonight: The Secret Sunday Night Underbelly Brawls! Cazmilan had been a regular and was the one to introduce Aerden, although given his hefty win record, the older man often sat out and coached others instead: Aerden being one of those students. The best thing about these brawls was that you didn’t have to win it all to receive a decent cash payout, winning any match still awarded the victor a nice sum of gold. After becoming a regular himself for over two years, he was now a known name in the ring - although often referred to as ‘Babyface’ by the announcers and the crowds. It annoyed him at first, but he eventually embraced it after proving himself a formidable opponent.
He had yet to be crowned the champion of the night, but that gave him the drive to keep trying and train harder. It was just the rush he needed in these mundane times. Tonight was going to be his night, he could feel it in his bones. He had some new, nasty tricks up his sleeves and that pile of gold would be his. Or he would get his ass beaten to a pulp. Either way, it was better than sitting on the clinic steps bored out of his mind. At least it made him feel something.
He pulled out his comm, typing out a message to send away to Pyra, “Wanna come watch some brawls 2night?”
@cazmilan @polluxhale @dajjalen @pyraelia @vixannya
@daily-writing-challenge
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November Daily Writing Challenge Day 3 - Mortality
The closing of the portals to the Shadowlands had been a most welcome change for probably just about everyone. The ability for the living to traverse freely amongst the dead in the afterlife anytime they wished didn’t settle particularly well with Taric. While he had spent his entire life being able to do just that, he also had the time and resources to figure out how to deal with it physically and mentally; whereas many didn’t do well with suddenly having to face their own mortality. Knowing exactly what lies beyond the grave created one too many existential crises. No doubt the following years were profitable for the therapists of Azeroth.
As much as he enjoyed working with Red and the crew of the Lady Lillium, Taric had decided that the mercenary life was not for him. Maybe it would have been better had it not been the Shadowlands, but the location was the exact reason he had joined in the first place. Being personally familiar with the afterlife came in handy, but the journey had taken its toll on him. Especially his time in the Maw.
He found comfort now in running his alchemy shop in Booty Bay and traveling the world to study and collect plants and other components for his craft. It was a fulfilling life and eventually people stopped speaking so much of the Shadowlands and moved on as they always had like nothing ever happened. He admired that about the people of Azeroth as a whole; even with the constant war and strife, they were resilient and managed to live their lives around these events.
However, all good things must come to an end, and eventually the next ‘big thing’ finally reared its head. Word was quick to travel down to Booty Bay about the appearance of the Dracthyr, and soon enough the Dracthyr themselves began to explore the lands new to them. With them, came the possibility of new opportunities and new places to traverse as well. It felt much different than it had just before the Shadowlands opened up. But that was death and this was life.
What he heard of the Dragon Isles sounded beautiful: A lush and primal place bursting with life energy and elemental magic. Despite the very real and dangerous threats surrounding the circumstances, and those that currently plagued their lands, Taric felt a twinge of excitement over the potential. New plants, new possibilities!
So when Red had eventually asked the question Taric knew he was going to ask, he eagerly accepted the offer to join them in the Dragon Isles. It was time for some new adventures!
@tristennedarkmorn
@daily-writing-challenge
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August DWC Day 4 - Impress
Rhys nervously stared at the sealed envelope sitting atop the dining table as he drummed his fingers around it. It had been nearly a year now since he last attempted to pass the final exam in order to finally graduate from secondary school. It had been too painful to try again too soon after, and he probably would have given up if not for the encouragement of his employer’s wife, Mrs. Padley – Eve, as she preferred.
She was always rooting for and encouraging him, she also often spoiled him with new clothes, treats, and the occasional massage. He had to admit that it felt really good to be doted upon, it was a feeling he had never really experienced before growing up in the orphanage. Her hand gently rested atop his shoulder, giving it a small squeeze, “It’s gonna be good news this time, hun, I just know it.” Her lips ghosted across his cheek before she sauntered back into the kitchen to continue making dessert. Her husband was out of town on business for a couple days, and she had invited Rhys to join her for nearly every meal in the main house. He wasn’t going to turn down free food and good company!
With a sigh, he ripped open the envelope and pulled out the letter, eyes slowly scanning back and forth. “...I passed…” He didn’t trust the words coming out of his mouth, so after reading the letter once more, it finally sank in. “I did it, I passed!” He didn’t realize he had jumped up from his seat, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Sure, it may not have seemed like such a big accomplishment to most, but Rhys had always struggled with school. For once, he was actually impressed with himself!
“Ohhh, that is wonderful news, honey! I am SO proud of you!” Before he knew what happened, Eve had cupped his cheeks and planted a big kiss smack against his lips, leaving behind a bright red smudge. She gave him a wink before returning to her baking.
The bewilderment was evident in his expression. He wasn’t upset by her action, quite the contrary. Eve was a beautiful woman, sure she was old enough to be his mother but that didn’t always matter. …But she was also married, not that Mr. Padley seemed to really care when she flirted with him or with various other friends and acquaintances they had over. He cleared his throat awkwardly and briefly rubbed at his lips. Was it hot in here? It suddenly felt hot in here. “Heh..thanks Mrs — Eve.”
“We’ll open a bottle of wine and celebrate properly later, mmm?”
“I uhhh…”
Wait, was she coming onto him?
No…there was no way.
Not him.
She was just being real nice.
“That sounds great!”
@daily-writing-challenge
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August DWC Day 1 - Silver
The time will soon come
when you can no longer
leave scratches down my back,
and we cannot quarrel
in silent corners
about vice and virtue.
Your presence will be cold,
silver eyes empty,
and I will witness your Light
shrink from view,
and your words
become muffled,
then silent,
and your hold on my heart
will become
too delicate to remain.
@daily-writing-challenge
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November Daily Writing Challenge Day 6 - Home
Garren set his suitcase down on the twin bed before scanning the small room: A table with a single chair, a nightstand by the bed with a lamp, a wash basin with a mirror, and some scattered shelving here and there. The bathroom and the kitchen would be a shared space with everyone else on the floor; most of which were young military so at least they were clean and courteous. It wasn’t much, but this was now home.
After spending about a week staying in a spare room of Lady Tel’vaiel’s tower in Dalaran, Xylaes had managed to secure him his own space in the city. It was an extreme downgrade from his previous quarters, Garren had never seen such lavishness in his entire life during his week in the tower. He was afraid to touch anything, assuming it to probably cost way more than anything he had ever owned. He didn’t realize sheets and towels could be so soft, finding any reason to take a bath in the massive clawfoot tub or sleep in for as long as he could manage. It was like being on vacation, but ten times better than any vacation he had ever gone on in the past.
When not enjoying the luxurious sheets, he spent the nights wandering the common rooms to look at all the intricate artwork and fancy decorations on display. He would be less likely to run into anyone else in the middle of the night, feeling awkward enough being put up in a place like this with little notice. He probably should have told his father sooner that he was leaving Moonglade, but he also expected that he would be staying with Xylaes himself. Of course the moment he stepped foot into The Red Moon, he realized exactly what the place was. He would play dumb and pretend he didn’t, for now; no one wanted to have that awkward conversation, him especially.
At least his hostesses had been most gracious despite his unexpected appearance. Pyraelia had even offered to give him a tour around Dalaran since he had never been before. He declined, assuming she had only made the offer to be polite. Being a burden was something he tried to avoid doing ever since Teldrassil was destroyed. It was always easier to keep his head down even if it meant his needs went unmet. That, and it was all just much too overwhelming: This was a massive change for him and he was terrified. Best to keep a low profile for now.
It was a relief to finally leave his temporary housing, this tiny space was much more his speed. He flipped open his suitcase and removed a few framed pictures to set out on his nightstand. The first was of him and his grandparents, taken just a week before they perished in the fires in Darnassus. The second was of him and his mother, Callia, when he was only a baby. He had her eyes and her hair, but he definitely took after his father more.
The third and final picture was of him and Xylaes, the same picture that Callia also had in Maldraxxus. He so desperately wished he could have gone to the Shadowlands to visit her, and now it was too late. But it was her wish for him and his father to reunite and to be a family as they always should have been. He was trying; that’s why he came here in the first place, but it had proven to be a difficult road thus far. Lips sank into a small frown as he studied the picture before shutting it inside the nightstand drawer. He wasn’t quite ready for that one to be on display just yet.
@daily-writing-challenge
@xylaes @pyraelia @fio-renze
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DAILY WRITING CHALLENGE 2022 IS BACK!
!!!NEW!!!: YOU DO NOT HAVE TO USE THE ACTUAL WORD FOR THIS CHALLENGE, YOU MAY SIMPLY BASE YOUR STORY AROUND ONE OF THESE IDEAS!
Choose one or both words/IDEAS and write a story, drabble, poem, or anything else once a day, every day, for a week!
Tag @daily-writing-challenge so we can reblog your stories.
Write the number day/challenge somewhere on your story.
LIST CONTENT WARNINGS VISIBLY ABOVE STORY! (Use a ‘read more’ line if content gets too graphic.)
Tags that will be used: #maydwc2022, #maydayX2022 (X=whatever number day you’re writing for), #yourtumblrurl
There will be no optional challenges for the weekly DWC’s, but please feel free to make up some of your own challenges!
The next writing challenge will be in AUGUST and last one week!
CLICK HERE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT INFORMATION!
Good luck and more importantly, HAVE FUN!
Encourage your fellow writers and show them some love and support with likes/reblogs/comments!
We look forward to reading some amazing writing!
((Written word list below the cut))
Virtues & Sins
Day 1 - May 8th:
Chastity, Lust
Day 2 - May 9th:
Temperance, Gluttony
Day 3 - May 10th:
Charity, Greed
Day 4 - May 11th:
Diligence, Sloth
Day 5 - May 12th:
Patience, Wrath
Day 6 - May 13th:
Kindness, Envy
Day 7 - May 14th:
Humility, Pride
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Flight
Tris stared at the toothbrush by the sink. Ren’s toothbrush. Why was her instinct to run? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been staying there off and on for….years? Yet there it was.
All the rational things told her to quell it. He grounded her. Somewhat, at least. Stilled the vibrations she felt in her chest and belly.
Their relationship moved at a snail’s pace. Every move sent her into a flurry, where all those flighty feelings returned. This was no exception. She had been the one to offer him a drawer. But the toothbrush was not something she expected this morning.
She leaned back and looked into the bedroom and stared at the sleeping Ren. At that moment, it was decided. She tiptoed into the bedroom and grabbed her go bag. Then she quietly left the room and the apartment. As she shut the door and breathed in the quiet of an early morning in Silvermoon, she took out her comm.
“Alleale. I’m going away. Indefinitely. If anyone asks, you don’t know where I am. Take care of things.”
@renrael-wra
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