The Playground (Anna’s chat thread v2)

[Kessel23]

I see you @Kessel23 you can’t hide.
JOIN US

How do you see me

 

[lilmillefleur]

How do you see me

Magic

 

[Kessel23]

Magic

That explains it.

 

[Kessel23]

Check out this tire. Pretty close to getting popped

 

[Kessel23]

At this factory building I worked on painting for a month this summer they had a big skid loader machine thing and out of one of the tires there was a 2 inch long sharp end of the nail sticking out. So the thing got the flat end of the nail stabbed into it's tire somehow and didn't even get a flat. It was a very confusing sight. I should have taken a picture of that lol

 

[lilmillefleur]

Anyway I’m trying to make an effort to write one chapter of all my story ideas
Here’s the prologue for reverie. Which I’m revamping to be called Soul of Tempest
Yeah all those old drafts I kept rewriting are all getting ditched. So now this has to be my 237264932th attempt

Spoiler: Long

Soul of Tempest — Prologue



“Petrichor.”
A girl of twelve turns over in her sleep.
“Petri, wake up.” The gentle voice of her mother comes again. “Pola is already up helping your father. I need you to get up.”
Petri opens her eyes. It’s still dark and she can barely see the outline of her mother’s slender profile and wavy hair and lightly feathered ears. But her bed is so comfortable...and her room...
I may never sleep in this room again.
A candle illuminates a corner of the room. Petri squints and finally rises from her bed, unfolding her wings which look golden when bathed in the light. In natural light, they are blue-gray with white stripes going down each feather in a pleasing pattern. They are strong and big and beautiful and Petri’s only pride.
Petri’s mother doesn’t smile. Her eyes have dark circles under them but still harbor a determined spark of energy.
“Get dressed, grab your bag and come help load up our things. I’ll get the baby...remember to be silent as the trees.”
Petri nods and stumbles on shaky legs towards the little closet in the corner of the room. The room is only dimly lit by the candle, but she can still see her wooden-slatted bunk bed by the window. Pola’s bed is on top and already made up neatly. There’s hardly a wrinkle in his earth-toned patchwork quilt. Showoff. She snorts.
Petri reaches into her closet and pulls out the only clothes remaining—a plain gray skirt with a ruffled white underskirt. A Taurskin vest with soft brown fur on the inside. A dark leather backpack on a buckled harness and belt. Black tights. Berry-red gloves and a scarf. And of course, plain white woolen socks and leather boots. Everything else Petri owned—which was a generous amount—had either been shoved in her backpack or discretely burned the night before. So much luxury had been thrown away. There is no turning back.
Petri sighs and pulls on her layers, carefully unbuttoning the short sleeves of the vest so she could pull it up under her feathered arms. Then comes the skirts, and then the socks and boots, and finally the gloves, scarf, and backpack. At last, Petri looks in the mirror and spins slowly, spreading out her arms to showcase the blue-striped feathers tipped at the ends with delicate brown hands. She has her mother’s dark wavy hair, same as her brothers, and her skin is only a shade lighter than her mother’s golden tan. From her father she has a few freckles and soft, desaturated brown eyes in contrast to her mother’s fiery and dark ones. Her appearance had awarded her many envious and perhaps longing glances from peers, but only one had truly caught her attention in return, mostly because he chose to be her friend first and foremost. His loyalty meant everything to her.
Mack! I will have to say goodbye to him somehow. The sad realization sinks in that she may never see him again. Petri tears a bit of paper from mother’s checklist and scribbles down a note. She examines it for a moment or two before shoving it in a side pocket of her skirt.

— — —

“You are taking a while. You doing okay? I understand this is probably hard for you.” Petri’s father is tying rolled-up quilts onto the back of Match, the biggest Taur in their family’s domestic herd. Petri counts her quilt, and then Pola’s similar one. What’s the point of even making your bed if the bedding’s coming with us? Showoff!!
Petri snorts for the second time that night.
“If you need to talk to me, I’m always here for you. Okay?” His vibrant feathers are shimmering in the moonlight like a crystal blue lagoon, and his eyes are gentle.
“Okay. I’m okay.” Petri plops a big leather duffel onto Match’s back. “What’s in here, anyway?” She remembers to keep her voice low. The nearest neighbors are only a short distance from their house.
“Tent.” Now Petri’s father wrinkles his nose. She knows he doesn’t enjoy the elements much.
“I’ve got the provisions!” Pola comes waddling out from behind the giant tree that carries the house. There’s a shed at the base where the animals are kept and non-perishable food is stored.
“Thanks, bud,” Father says, taking the heavy box from the young boy. Pola is younger than Petri at about eight years, which only increases Petri’s disdain at his perfection. He has the same shade of hair and skin as Petri, but his wings are a darker blue which make the white strips stand out even more strikingly.
Mother comes a few moments later, leaping with outstretched wings from the high-up house like a flaming angel. She has her hair braided up with blue beads to match Father’s wings, an old Flighter marriage tradition. She is wearing a long skirt and vest like Petri’s, and she has her own leather harness that goes over her shoulders and across her stomach. Attached to the front of the harness is Pirr, the baby of the family who is too young to fly. His appearance is nearly identical to Pola’s at that age except for one eye being brown and the other being an olive green. He looks around, bewildered but silent. Maybe Mother cast a spell on him.
“The Prophetess determined it to be a mark of especial luck,” Father had said of his colorful eyes. “The gift of foresight...sensing danger. That’s a rare find these days.”
Petri’s gaze lowers to her own blemish, a single black feather amidst the gray and white. The gift of strength and victory in battle, her parents had said. Petri believed it. Her wings had served her well, though it wasn’t necessarily an uncommon trait among Flighters.
“We are ready now. Let’s hurry before the snow comes to reveal our tracks.” Mother shuts her eyes as if she is rethinking everything she’s done up to this moment.
“Can we stop by Mack’s house? I never said goodbye to him. I’ll just deliver a note. That’s all.” Petri pleads, wide-eyed.
Mother squints and purses her lips, but Father butts in before she can speak. “I’m sure you can sneak it under his window. Just make sure you don’t give anything away. Nothing about where we are going or why.”
Petri nods in agreement. “I would never.”
“So let’s go then,” Pola says. “The others are probably waiting by now, you guys take so long.”
“We will hurry then.” Mother shields her eyes from the bright moon. “Let’s travel through the trees’ shadows so we won’t be spotted.” The family begins to walk, slow step after slow step.
“We are in deep now, darling,” Father murmurs to his wife. “There is no turning back. All we have now to trust is luck.”
“No. Not luck.” Mother spits on the frosty ground. “May the Highest Power bless us.”

I kinda like it, but I feel like it’s too unfocused...it’s like one paragraph of actual plot followed by 3 paragraphs of description and exposition and then jumping back to plot. And considering it’s a prologue and most of these characters ultimately aren’t Super Important idk if they really need a detailed description

 

[Kessel23]

Anyway I’m trying to make an effort to write one chapter of all my story ideas
Here’s the prologue for reverie. Which I’m revamping to be called Soul of Tempest
Yeah all those old drafts I kept rewriting are all getting ditched. So now this has to be my 237264932th attempt

Spoiler: Long

Soul of Tempest — Prologue



“Petrichor.”
A girl of twelve turns over in her sleep.
“Petri, wake up.” The gentle voice of her mother comes again. “Pola is already up helping your father. I need you to get up.”
Petri opens her eyes. It’s still dark and she can barely see the outline of her mother’s slender profile and wavy hair and lightly feathered ears. But her bed is so comfortable...and her room...
I may never sleep in this room again.
A candle illuminates a corner of the room. Petri squints and finally rises from her bed, unfolding her wings which look golden when bathed in the light. In natural light, they are blue-gray with white stripes going down each feather in a pleasing pattern. They are strong and big and beautiful and Petri’s only pride.
Petri’s mother doesn’t smile. Her eyes have dark circles under them but still harbor a determined spark of energy.
“Get dressed, grab your bag and come help load up our things. I’ll get the baby...remember to be silent as the trees.”
Petri nods and stumbles on shaky legs towards the little closet in the corner of the room. The room is only dimly lit by the candle, but she can still see her wooden-slatted bunk bed by the window. Pola’s bed is on top and already made up neatly. There’s hardly a wrinkle in his earth-toned patchwork quilt. Showoff. She snorts.
Petri reaches into her closet and pulls out the only clothes remaining—a plain gray skirt with a ruffled white underskirt. A Taurskin vest with soft brown fur on the inside. A dark leather backpack on a buckled harness and belt. Black tights. Berry-red gloves and a scarf. And of course, plain white woolen socks and leather boots. Everything else Petri owned—which was a generous amount—had either been shoved in her backpack or discretely burned the night before. So much luxury had been thrown away. There is no turning back.
Petri sighs and pulls on her layers, carefully unbuttoning the short sleeves of the vest so she could pull it up under her feathered arms. Then comes the skirts, and then the socks and boots, and finally the gloves, scarf, and backpack. At last, Petri looks in the mirror and spins slowly, spreading out her arms to showcase the blue-striped feathers tipped at the ends with delicate brown hands. She has her mother’s dark wavy hair, same as her brothers, and her skin is only a shade lighter than her mother’s golden tan. From her father she has a few freckles and soft, desaturated brown eyes in contrast to her mother’s fiery and dark ones. Her appearance had awarded her many envious and perhaps longing glances from peers, but only one had truly caught her attention in return, mostly because he chose to be her friend first and foremost. His loyalty meant everything to her.
Mack! I will have to say goodbye to him somehow. The sad realization sinks in that she may never see him again. Petri tears a bit of paper from mother’s checklist and scribbles down a note. She examines it for a moment or two before shoving it in a side pocket of her skirt.

— — —

“You are taking a while. You doing okay? I understand this is probably hard for you.” Petri’s father is tying rolled-up quilts onto the back of Match, the biggest Taur in their family’s domestic herd. Petri counts her quilt, and then Pola’s similar one. What’s the point of even making your bed if the bedding’s coming with us? Showoff!!
Petri snorts for the second time that night.
“If you need to talk to me, I’m always here for you. Okay?” His vibrant feathers are shimmering in the moonlight like a crystal blue lagoon, and his eyes are gentle.
“Okay. I’m okay.” Petri plops a big leather duffel onto Match’s back. “What’s in here, anyway?” She remembers to keep her voice low. The nearest neighbors are only a short distance from their house.
“Tent.” Now Petri’s father wrinkles his nose. She knows he doesn’t enjoy the elements much.
“I’ve got the provisions!” Pola comes waddling out from behind the giant tree that carries the house. There’s a shed at the base where the animals are kept and non-perishable food is stored.
“Thanks, bud,” Father says, taking the heavy box from the young boy. Pola is younger than Petri at about eight years, which only increases Petri’s disdain at his perfection. He has the same shade of hair and skin as Petri, but his wings are a darker blue which make the white strips stand out even more strikingly.
Mother comes a few moments later, leaping with outstretched wings from the high-up house like a flaming angel. She has her hair braided up with blue beads to match Father’s wings, an old Flighter marriage tradition. She is wearing a long skirt and vest like Petri’s, and she has her own leather harness that goes over her shoulders and across her stomach. Attached to the front of the harness is Pirr, the baby of the family who is too young to fly. His appearance is nearly identical to Pola’s at that age except for one eye being brown and the other being an olive green. He looks around, bewildered but silent. Maybe Mother cast a spell on him.
“The Prophetess determined it to be a mark of especial luck,” Father had said of his colorful eyes. “The gift of foresight...sensing danger. That’s a rare find these days.”
Petri’s gaze lowers to her own blemish, a single black feather amidst the gray and white. The gift of strength and victory in battle, her parents had said. Petri believed it. Her wings had served her well, though it wasn’t necessarily an uncommon trait among Flighters.
“We are ready now. Let’s hurry before the snow comes to reveal our tracks.” Mother shuts her eyes as if she is rethinking everything she’s done up to this moment.
“Can we stop by Mack’s house? I never said goodbye to him. I’ll just deliver a note. That’s all.” Petri pleads, wide-eyed.
Mother squints and purses her lips, but Father butts in before she can speak. “I’m sure you can sneak it under his window. Just make sure you don’t give anything away. Nothing about where we are going or why.”
Petri nods in agreement. “I would never.”
“So let’s go then,” Pola says. “The others are probably waiting by now, you guys take so long.”
“We will hurry then.” Mother shields her eyes from the bright moon. “Let’s travel through the trees’ shadows so we won’t be spotted.” The family begins to walk, slow step after slow step.
“We are in deep now, darling,” Father murmurs to his wife. “There is no turning back. All we have now to trust is luck.”
“No. Not luck.” Mother spits on the frosty ground. “May the Highest Power bless us.”

That's too long for me to read right now. Its late here and I am sleepy. I will tomorrow. But I'm sure it's better than the 237264931 attempts before it right?

 

[lilmillefleur]

That's too long for me to read right now. Its late here and I am sleepy. I will tomorrow. But I'm sure it's better than the 237264931 attempts before it right?

That’s fine!! It’s late here too but I’m kind of on a roll haha. Have a nice night! Glad you are still around btw.

 

[Kessel23]

Anyway I’m trying to make an effort to write one chapter of all my story ideas
Here’s the prologue for reverie. Which I’m revamping to be called Soul of Tempest
Yeah all those old drafts I kept rewriting are all getting ditched. So now this has to be my 237264932th attempt

Spoiler: Long

Soul of Tempest — Prologue



“Petrichor.”
A girl of twelve turns over in her sleep.
“Petri, wake up.” The gentle voice of her mother comes again. “Pola is already up helping your father. I need you to get up.”
Petri opens her eyes. It’s still dark and she can barely see the outline of her mother’s slender profile and wavy hair and lightly feathered ears. But her bed is so comfortable...and her room...
I may never sleep in this room again.
A candle illuminates a corner of the room. Petri squints and finally rises from her bed, unfolding her wings which look golden when bathed in the light. In natural light, they are blue-gray with white stripes going down each feather in a pleasing pattern. They are strong and big and beautiful and Petri’s only pride.
Petri’s mother doesn’t smile. Her eyes have dark circles under them but still harbor a determined spark of energy.
“Get dressed, grab your bag and come help load up our things. I’ll get the baby...remember to be silent as the trees.”
Petri nods and stumbles on shaky legs towards the little closet in the corner of the room. The room is only dimly lit by the candle, but she can still see her wooden-slatted bunk bed by the window. Pola’s bed is on top and already made up neatly. There’s hardly a wrinkle in his earth-toned patchwork quilt. Showoff. She snorts.
Petri reaches into her closet and pulls out the only clothes remaining—a plain gray skirt with a ruffled white underskirt. A Taurskin vest with soft brown fur on the inside. A dark leather backpack on a buckled harness and belt. Black tights. Berry-red gloves and a scarf. And of course, plain white woolen socks and leather boots. Everything else Petri owned—which was a generous amount—had either been shoved in her backpack or discretely burned the night before. So much luxury had been thrown away. There is no turning back.
Petri sighs and pulls on her layers, carefully unbuttoning the short sleeves of the vest so she could pull it up under her feathered arms. Then comes the skirts, and then the socks and boots, and finally the gloves, scarf, and backpack. At last, Petri looks in the mirror and spins slowly, spreading out her arms to showcase the blue-striped feathers tipped at the ends with delicate brown hands. She has her mother’s dark wavy hair, same as her brothers, and her skin is only a shade lighter than her mother’s golden tan. From her father she has a few freckles and soft, desaturated brown eyes in contrast to her mother’s fiery and dark ones. Her appearance had awarded her many envious and perhaps longing glances from peers, but only one had truly caught her attention in return, mostly because he chose to be her friend first and foremost. His loyalty meant everything to her.
Mack! I will have to say goodbye to him somehow. The sad realization sinks in that she may never see him again. Petri tears a bit of paper from mother’s checklist and scribbles down a note. She examines it for a moment or two before shoving it in a side pocket of her skirt.

— — —

“You are taking a while. You doing okay? I understand this is probably hard for you.” Petri’s father is tying rolled-up quilts onto the back of Match, the biggest Taur in their family’s domestic herd. Petri counts her quilt, and then Pola’s similar one. What’s the point of even making your bed if the bedding’s coming with us? Showoff!!
Petri snorts for the second time that night.
“If you need to talk to me, I’m always here for you. Okay?” His vibrant feathers are shimmering in the moonlight like a crystal blue lagoon, and his eyes are gentle.
“Okay. I’m okay.” Petri plops a big leather duffel onto Match’s back. “What’s in here, anyway?” She remembers to keep her voice low. The nearest neighbors are only a short distance from their house.
“Tent.” Now Petri’s father wrinkles his nose. She knows he doesn’t enjoy the elements much.
“I’ve got the provisions!” Pola comes waddling out from behind the giant tree that carries the house. There’s a shed at the base where the animals are kept and non-perishable food is stored.
“Thanks, bud,” Father says, taking the heavy box from the young boy. Pola is younger than Petri at about eight years, which only increases Petri’s disdain at his perfection. He has the same shade of hair and skin as Petri, but his wings are a darker blue which make the white strips stand out even more strikingly.
Mother comes a few moments later, leaping with outstretched wings from the high-up house like a flaming angel. She has her hair braided up with blue beads to match Father’s wings, an old Flighter marriage tradition. She is wearing a long skirt and vest like Petri’s, and she has her own leather harness that goes over her shoulders and across her stomach. Attached to the front of the harness is Pirr, the baby of the family who is too young to fly. His appearance is nearly identical to Pola’s at that age except for one eye being brown and the other being an olive green. He looks around, bewildered but silent. Maybe Mother cast a spell on him.
“The Prophetess determined it to be a mark of especial luck,” Father had said of his colorful eyes. “The gift of foresight...sensing danger. That’s a rare find these days.”
Petri’s gaze lowers to her own blemish, a single black feather amidst the gray and white. The gift of strength and victory in battle, her parents had said. Petri believed it. Her wings had served her well, though it wasn’t necessarily an uncommon trait among Flighters.
“We are ready now. Let’s hurry before the snow comes to reveal our tracks.” Mother shuts her eyes as if she is rethinking everything she’s done up to this moment.
“Can we stop by Mack’s house? I never said goodbye to him. I’ll just deliver a note. That’s all.” Petri pleads, wide-eyed.
Mother squints and purses her lips, but Father butts in before she can speak. “I’m sure you can sneak it under his window. Just make sure you don’t give anything away. Nothing about where we are going or why.”
Petri nods in agreement. “I would never.”
“So let’s go then,” Pola says. “The others are probably waiting by now, you guys take so long.”
“We will hurry then.” Mother shields her eyes from the bright moon. “Let’s travel through the trees’ shadows so we won’t be spotted.” The family begins to walk, slow step after slow step.
“We are in deep now, darling,” Father murmurs to his wife. “There is no turning back. All we have now to trust is luck.”
“No. Not luck.” Mother spits on the frosty ground. “May the Highest Power bless us.”

I kinda like it, but I feel like it’s too unfocused...it’s like one paragraph of exposition followed by 3 paragraphs of tangents/description/flashbacks and then jumping back to exposition. And considering it’s a prologue and most of these characters ultimately aren’t Super Important idk if they really need a detailed description

I read it. I agree with you on the descriptive part. There is a lot of detail and if the characters aren't even going to be very important then I think you could add less for them. Overall though it seems like an interesting writing and I like it so far.

 

[Kessel23]

That’s fine!! It’s late here too but I’m kind of on a roll haha. Have a nice night! Glad you are still around btw.

Thanks. I'm glad you are still around too btw