Hey I'm Temi I'm a writeblr honestly I'm pretty boring but I like talking, musicals,writing and any kind of music. WIP page: magicalmisstemi.tumblr.com/WIPRC Second WIP page: magicalmisstemi.tumblr.com/C.O.A header and icon by @diabhals
16 (Will turn 17 during the book) // she/her // Lesbian // ENFP-A
Likes: Poetry // Flowers //Â Strawberries and cherries // Lollipops // Music // Ballet // Her aunt (sheâs dead but still) // Wine // Picnics // Shanice // Faries and magical creatures
Dislikes: School // Kelly-Anne (Itâs complicated) // Being bored // Being alone // Olives
Aesthetic: If the colour pink became a person and read too much Sylvia Plath
Physical description: Brownish-Blondish hair, blue eyes, pink lips, short
Personality trait: Bubbly, very easily excited, extroverted, Loyal ( also sort of her greatest weakness), A bit dramatic, soft, can be protective of the people she cares about especially when you push her, Self deprecating, Talented (but wonât admit it), Easy to love
Hana tried to stand up straight slightly wobbling on the tree stump, she giggled as she tried to keep her balance, âHana are you sure youâre not gonna fall from there?,â Shanice asked concerned, she started up the camera and positioned it so she can get all of Hana in frame,
âOh and whatâs the worst that could happen i fall,â Hana said as she finally stood firm on the stump, she looked down at Shanice and smiled, âLet the interview commence!â
Shanice laughed, âName, Age, anything that makes you interesting and a memorable moment?â
Hana sighed, âHana Dombroski, Unfortunately 16-â
âwhy unfortunately?â Shanice interrupted trying to focus the camera, Hana was moving way too much for a girl standing on a fallen tree.
She rolled her eyes and bent down to pick up a twig, âi donât know? what really happens when your 16?â
âmost girls get their first kiss,â Shanice replied
âwell what can i tell you, Iâm not the kissing kinda girl,â Hana muttered and Shan chuckled in agreement, they probably didnât mean it in the same way anyways, âbesides Iâm gonna be seventeen soon,â
âoh yeah and what happens when youâre seventeen?â Shanice got up and took a step back, she was really starting to get worried at how much Hana was moving.
âwell you get to sing and dance to that one ABBA song,â Hana giggled and twirled, her foot missed the stump and she gasped as she feel to the ground her second leg cutting on the jagged parts of the tree stump.
âshit,â Shanice said as she ran over to Hana, âi knew you were gonna fall,â she took out a hanky and applied slight pressure to the wound, Hanaâs pale skin was stained with blood, âwe should get you to the nurse, sister Venus will be so pissed.â
âwait Shan,â she looked a stared up at Hana who was trying really hard to conceal the pain she was feeling, âone thing that makes me interesting is that i sorta know how to sing the songs in La Boheme in order and one of my memorable moments is when i was a kid and my teacher told me i would survive the holocaust and i had to tell them i was Jewish,â Hana smiled at her and Shanice couldnât help but laugh.
âyouâre Jewish,â Hana whistled the theme to Fiddler on the roof and She burst out laughing the two girls laughed whilst sitting on the forest floor some how forgetting that Hana was indeed still bleeding out.
Hana Dombrowki has no idea whatâs going on 50% percent of the time. donât get her wrong sheâs aware of whatâs happening around her she just sometimes doesnât understand it. Sheâd always been a bit weird, growing up in a house where her father was almost never around and her mother felt the need to control her ever move so sheâd turn out perfect like her sister she learnt how to hide away so she could have time to herself just so she could feel like maybe just maybe she was her own person.
Her âBFFâ, Kelly-Anne, definitely doesnât see her as one. She knows people are meant to like their best friends but itâs complicated. Her mother treats her like a burden and would rather just send her off with the nuns or something, her sister doesnât even look at her twice and the only person who ever even tried to understand her is her aunt who passed. Right her aunt, the only person who ever believed that Hana was enough just for being Hana. she doesnât like dealing with her feelings sheâd rather just turn them into slightly worrying poetry, she doesnât have time to, she has to focus on being the girl everyone liked, the girl who could remain in the schools good graces no matter what she did. Thatâs all she was good for after all.
Tag List (Ask if you want to be tagged): @andiwriteunderthemoonâ @salwaterbells @kentwritesâ @firesidefantasyâ @t-rexwritingâ @surroundedbypearlsâ @shewhowalksbehindthewheelsâ @tenderweatherâ @kinswriting @radley-writesâ
She took a breath so deep
he could see it in her shoulders,
in the rise and fall of her chest.
Then she opened her eyes.
Loganâs eyes narrowed and she stuck a hand out, halting them in their walk off the school grounds. âIs that Garin?â
It was odd for Logan to pay attention to anything so quickly, so concisely. Dean had to check what all the fuss was about.
It took him an embarrassingly long amount of time to spot Garin in the distance, lingering by the western gates, towards the end of the parking lot. Trust Loganâs newer, sharper senses to spot him first. But what kept his attention was the way Garin was moving. He was always the twitchy sort, but now it was in overdrive.
Even Dean was starting to get prickles down his spine at the way Garin surveyed his surroundings as he rounded the corner towards the back of the parking house. He could practically smell the sweat off him.
âWe should see what heâs up to.â
âWhat?â The others turned to stare at him. âWhy?â
âWhy not?â He glanced at Logan, and she gave him a knowing grin. He could always count on her to be on board.
âLetâs do it,â she said, striding forward, wheeling her bike along as she made her way back towards the west side. âCome on, guys.â
They walked against the exiting crowds of students heading towards the west side, where the path was more obscured by shrubbery. As they rounded the corner onto the deserted road, Denise asked, âIs anyone looking?â
Dean took a look around. There was no one else around but Garin, who still wandered along the road alone, even shiftier than usual. He glanced down at his watch, and over at the road. Thankfully, not towards them.
âNo,â he said, when he was sure.
âCool. Give me a second. Get close to me.â
They did as she asked; even Logan managed to drag her bike in close. Denise shut her eyes and held her hands close to her chest, one hand clenched into a gentle fist, the otherâs fingers clasped over it. She took a breath so deep he could see it in her shoulders, in the rise and fall of her chest. Then she opened her eyes, just as the air around them shimmered and washed out, every colour paler, watering, wavering like ripples of heat.
âWhat is this?â Dean raised a hand through the air. Somewhere beyond their close perimeter, he could see where the world looked normal. âHoly shit. Denise, are we-â
âIâve been practising.â She spoke with short breaths, but grinned. âIâm not too sure how well the volume thing works, so we should probably keep quiet.â
âYouâre unbelievable.â
âLetâs get closer.â It was nice to see her smile so proudly.
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I decided to do some new moodboards for these characters, because theyâve all got a strong aesthetic and I was feeling colourful. So, hereâs Deniseâs!
You can probably guess that Denise loves her florals. Sheâs also an avid gardener and painter, and tends to be the quieter type. Her favourite colour is in fact purple, and she has a little cat called Greg!
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Hazel was popular with the other changelings from the moment she arrived at the monster manor; her ability to see peopleâs auras and emotions made her a celebrity among them. Theyâre not real friends. And the human side of her wants real friends.
An excerpt and moodboard from Hazelâs story!
That girl staring back in the mirror at her didnât even look like Hazel anymore. Sure, she still had the same deep skin, the same braids in bubbly pink. But her eyes didnât have the same sparkle they used to, she was sure of that. Her skin had lost some of its glow, though it was still smooth and (mostly) free of blemishes. There was a zit growing on her chin. She poked at it, horror creeping up inside her. She hadnât had a pimple in months. When did she lose her edge? She didnât have that look of enchantment anymore, like the other changelings. She wasnât ethereal anymore. Why did it take her this long to notice?
A knock on the door startled her from her daze. Should she dig out her concealer before she answered? Where even was it? She couldnât remember the last time she wore any makeup to cover her skin.
âOne second,â she called, digging futilely through the bottom drawer of the dresser. Nope, not there.
Groaning to herself, she went to the door and opened, free hand conspicuously covering her chin.
âHi, Hazel,â Junie greeted with a grin. âJet and Toby invited me to go down to the pond, do you want to come? We could collect samples.â
âSure, yeah. Let me get my coat.â Would it be possible for her to put on her coat with one hand? She could certainly try.
âWhy are you covering your face?â
âNo reason.â
âThereâs obviously a reason.â Junie rolled her eyes. âWhat is it, come on, you can tell me.â
âItâs embarrassing.â
âIâm sure it isnât.â
âWell, look at me. How is this not embarrassing?â She dropped her hand and turned to face Junie, putting all of her mediocrity on display. God, if she looked in the mirror now, she probably had bags under her eyes. What would she look like tomorrow?
âWhat, what am I looking at?â
âWhat do you mean what are you looking at? Look at my face! My chin is getting spotty, my glow is gone, my hair is less shinyâŠâ
âHazel, youâre gorgeous. What are you saying?â Then her face lit up in a knowing smile. âYou know what it is? Youâre looking more human.â
She blinked. âWhat?â
âYouâve been hanging out with me more, and Jet and Toby, and less with the other changelings. Itâs probably made you less, you knowâŠâ She wiggled her fingers. âSparkly.â
âWas I sparkly?â
âKind of. But it doesnât matter. Youâre still Hazel, arenât you?â She tilted her head towards the door. âCome on, letâs get going. You know what Tobyâs like when you keep him waiting for a walk.â
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Heyyyyy, so like I haven't been on here in forever đ a lot of changes have gone done in my life in general. But I hope to try and be more active and share more of my current works lmao. But yeah not back fully but hope to ease into coming back. Missed y'all!
âMaybe just the hunter in her talking.
Like how a lion would sit
at the highest point and watch
their Savannah for incoming threats.â
Logan squeezed the brakes and stopped at the amber light, taking the spare few seconds to sip her jacket up higher and tuck her braids back inside. She rested one foot on the road while she waited, looking around at the vines climbing the wall of the bank on her left, the lavish offices on her right. She was almost jealous at times she didnât live in an apartment like Denise and Eli. She wouldnât trade her backyard or the field for anything, but the thought of the view from such a vantage point was thrilling. Maybe just the hunter in her talking. Like how a lion would sit at the highest point and watch their Savannah for incoming threats.
Goosebumps quivered along the back of her neck.
She looked behind her. She couldnât see anything suspicious. Nothing but the line of morning traffic behind her. No other cyclists, which was a little odd. The driver in the first car waiting gave her a perplexed look. Then he pointed forward, and went to honk his horn.
She turned around, heart pounding, and took off under the green light. It was nothing. She just needed another coffee. Or maybe she shouldnât have had the first one. She definitely shouldnât have. She wasnât supposed to have coffee at all.
There it was, that shiver again. She took a deep breath. Just watch the road. Thereâs another junction coming up.
She needed to keep moving. Sheâd probably be late at this stage.
She shuddered, and felt her hair on her body stand on end.
Move.
She swerved right before she hit the junction, skidding and bumping onto the sidewalk. A nearby couple leaped back and shrieked when her bike crashed into the telephone pole and she went rolling to the ground, backpack stopping her momentum. She was left lying there, winded, sweating and damp, just as a car came speeding through the junction, breaking the light and knocking an incoming vehicle off its course. The couple shouted, but she couldnât make it out. Everything about her was a haze.
She sat up.
âAre you alright?â One man leaned over her, hands on his knees, while the other stood by with his phone, eyes on the accident and the build-up of traffic. âDo you need a doctor? You really went flying - youâre so lucky, what happened?â
âIâŠâ Logan looked at the car that had been just behind her. Someone was just helping the driver climb out. His forehead bled and he leaned on his helper with a white face. But he was alive.
She suspected if had been her - and it almost had been her - it wouldnât be a half-wrecked car there, but a girl and a bike and a backpack crushed like pancakes.
She shouldnât have known that would happen. Who the fuck drove that fast through a junction? Were they trying to cause an accident?
She rolled onto her hands and knees, retching.
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And rock, and black social dances - thereâs a larger overarching conversation to be had about technologically mediated appropriation of black cultural artifacts tbh.
âShe used to want to fall into
those blue eyes until she drowned,
back when she was a pre-teen
with notions of fairytale romance.â
The soft patter of raindrops on Deniseâs windshield lulled her into a daze as she glanced again at the temple across the street, then at the clock on the dashboard. It was just 8am. School started at 8:30, and she made it a habit of not being late. But Eli still hadnât come out, and so she would wait. Theyâd been driving to school together ever since she got her license, and she wasnât about to abandon him now. Especially not in the rain. He never remembered to pack an umbrella.
Her hand flicked idly towards the stereo, thinking to switch it on, but she preferred to listen to the rain. She turned back to watch the doors. Sheâd only been inside once before, for Willâs funeral just over a year ago. Even as the months went on, and Eli began to smile again, the grief lingered when he stopped for more than a moment.Â
She couldnât imagine how he felt. Her own father didnât have much interest in her; heâd bought her this car, which was something. Nothing paid like a parentâs guilt. But thinking about losing her mother was unimaginable.
The rain fell harder as one of the temple doors opened and someone stepped out, sans umbrella. Eli. He jogged out into the rain, breaking into a sprint as he crossed the street, opened the door and threw himself into the passenger seat. He pushed his wet hair back with a sigh and shrugged off his backpack.
âNo umbrella?â Denise asked, starting the engine as he buckled his seatbelt.
âI forgot. Thanks for waiting.â He turned towards her, and there it was. That sadness. Heâd be furious if she brought it up, she knew he would. Even though she wanted to, she didnât reach out and take his hand. It would only trigger something in him, and if he cried, sheâd cry too. And neither of them would make it to school.
Instead, she asked, âSo, howâs Cheddar?â
It worked; he laughed. âHe threw up a hairball on Fayeâs bed this morning. From the screams, youâd swear he took a shit on it.â
âWell, you know. Kids.â
âI know.â
His eyes twinkled when he laughed. If she told anybody that, theyâd laugh at her for sure. She used to want to fall into those blue eyes until she drowned, back when she was a pre-teen with notions of fairytale romance. She wanted to meet another boy whose eyes twinkled like his did -Â hopefully one whoâd be interested in girls like her. Or, any girls. She hadnât had any luck so far.
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Chanda, a mage Blessed by the Elemental Sisters, had always trusted in her duty to her queendom, Vastan. When sheâs set to betroth Prince Roshan of the powerful neighboring kingdom of Taarestan, she goes with little argument. Her loyalty to her Queen doesnât allow for anything else, even when sheâs faced with the alien beliefs and rituals of the foreign prince and his kingdom.
Roshan, the second son of the Taarestani King, trusts in his family and his religion. He may not be a Raanse - not Blessed by any of the Raanâs Avatars as Chanda is - but he believes in Its power. When Chanda arrives, bringing a differing, sacrilegious outlook on his religion, heâs left floundering.
When Blessed Mages of both nations start disappearing, Chanda and Roshan are faced with a dissolving treaty, failed prophets, underground fighting rings, and dwindling faith.
Genre: High Fantasy
Audience: Adult
Nanowrimo Goal: 30k
POV: Third Person, Multiple POV
Lore and Magic
Raan: The One. God-like entity or force that is a part of all living things. The Taarestani believe in simply the entity as a whole. Blessed Mages are called the Raanse, âof the Raan,â and are considered to have their powers due to having lives good previous lives. Vastani believe powers are given at birth by avatars of the Raan.
Elemental Sisters: Four sister avatars of Raan, according to Vastani Lore. Fire, Earth, Air, and Water. Those blessed by the Sisters have control of one or more elements. Some books add the disgraced, fifth sister - Ether - but most agree that she was deemed too powerful and was deafened by the other four.
Magic: There are three branches of magics. Elemental, Natural, and Ethereal. Those with Elemental magics can control one or more of the four elements. Natural Mages fall into one of two categories - plants or animals - and have strong bonds with each. Ethereal Mages are the most rare, and are said to be the most dangerous. Only a handful are said to be alive and are often vagabonds or thieves. Not many listen to the lunatic ramblings of such Mages.
Hello Iâm quinn! (They/she) Iâm an intp, type 6, and a chaotic evil. Iâm a minor and live in the U.S. Arthur Pendragon owns my heart and soul and Iâm not complaining.
Iâve loved to write since I was a kid. Some of my favorite genres to write are horror, fantasy, and contemporary!
Some of my favorite books include Six of Crows, Legend, and the Pjo series. I have an odd fascination with horror novels and hope I can read more!
I have too many ideas that it should be considered unhealthy, so why not share them here!
MAIN WIP
Letâs start a revolution - In a world where people have powers and everything seems normal. Except, The world is a simulation. Everybody had come aware. Now, the simulation is trying to kill of its people. The government is corrupt and letting innocent people die. 7 people are tasked with overthrowing the government. Can they do it?
So youâre writing a story and you want to make a Jewish characterâgreat! Iâm here to help. I always want more Jewish representation but I want good Jewish representation, so this is my attempt to make a guide to making a Jewish character. What are my credentials? Iâm Jewish and have been my whole life. Obligatory disclaimer that this is by no means comprehensive, I donât know everything, all Jews are different, and this is based on my experiences as an American Jew so I have no idea, what, if any, of this applies to non-American Jews.Â
If thereâs anything you want me to make a post going more into detail about or if thereâs anything I didnât mention but you want to know please ask me! I hope this is helpful :) Warning, this is long.
A worldbuilding masterpost for VOLTÂ (as narrated by Vash, allegedly)
Hereâs how it went down.
600 years back, the rich and the powerful fucked off to a different solar system after colossally screwing up Earth. Turns out nuclear winter doesnât cancel out global warming! Whoâda thought.
Do we know how the remainder of Earthâs population fare, those we abandoned on our ruined world? No. Do we care? Also no. Nice lot, our ancestors - but I guess weâre no better.
So, what happened next? Well, youâve read that old-world classic, right? Bunch of posh brats get stuck on an island. Whatâs it calledâŠÂ Lord of the Flies?
