#fictioneers

[fictioneerspodcast]

It’s time to meet the cast, starting with: Arlo Rainborn, a young and ambitious sorcerer in possession of powers from an unknown source. Unburdened from familial expectation for the first time, he pursues success within the local branch of the Gilded Hand mercenary company.

Transcript below the read more!

Arlo: Honestly, if I could get a single signature for the Gilded Hand, it would be a good day.

Hippodamo: Recruitment's still... slow, I take it.

Arlo: Well, we just have to implement our new, ah, postering campaign. That'll change everyone's mind, I'm sure of it.

Hippodamo: Of course.

Arlo: It's a great one this time, we got a great illustrator! I mean - we sort of - there *was* a great illustrator and then we sort of... hired our own, and... It's gonna be great, it's gonna be so good, we saved so much money on the whole thing!

[Entire crew losing it laughing.]

Clark: There *was* a great illustrator??

Hippodamo: (still laughing) I trust that that is true! There - (trails off still chuckling)

[Weave main theme plays - a triumphant synth melody punctuated by high strings and a driving kick drum.]

[williamjoyce]

It’s my birthday and what a funny package I got. That’s alotta hohoho and dream sand and magic eggs and baby teeth and goose down and yetis and enchanted staffs and moonbeams and frosty mornings of mischief and adventure. Happy morning to everyone be they real or fictive!! I’m gonna spend my day daydreaming!!! #itsmybirthday #illustrationartists #writers #fictioneers #kidslitart #imaginasamba #imagineer #makeituppist #daydreaming #daydreamer #illustrationartists #oldschoolwriters #riseoftheguardians #riseoftheguardiansfanart #jackfrost #jackfrostcosplay #rotg #rotgcosplay #librariansofinstagram #fun https://www.instagram.com/p/BrP90adh9yk/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=25mdib3pn9ja

[mayor-joseph-curwen]

Fictioneers' Friday:

Hi all! Welcome to the first edition of Fictioneers' Friday, a weekly segment where we feature a piece of flash fiction submitted by the Fictioneers of Cottam, with a different prompt each week. This week's prompt was "Everything has brought you to this moment", and the winner was Cassandra Pinkerton. Three cheers, Cass!

The locker slammed shut with a resounding clang, setting the young man's teeth on edge. He stood there, motionless, except for his trembling hands. He was alone, thank goodness. He couldn't stand people seeing him like this. He needed their belief. Without that... He was nothing. Minutes passed. Against his best judgement, he met his own gaze in the reflection of the locker door. Those eyes. Blue eyes. A shade that conjured the face of a drowned man. Blue where the life had been chocked-out and filled with void. Hollow eyes.

Time passed once more. Now sat with his head in his hands, the young man stared downwards, as if studying the tiled pattern on the floor. His bare feet were pale and mottled, his heels rhythmically moving up and down as if he were running. His legs were all but hairless; this was helpful, as the drag would slow him down in the water. The same, however, was true for his head; hair refused to spring from his skin. But again, it would help.

Over and over, the minutes ticked down, all the while the young man's mind churned. A constant stream of thoughts tore through his skull. Is it even possible? Could he even keep up with them? What would happen when he failed? Would his coach give up on him? Should he give up on him? What about his mother? Would they all be better off without him?

The young man raised his head. He looked down at his hands. He spread his fingers out wide. Faint, pinkish light filtered through the delicate webbing between his fingers. His breathing slowed, and he closed his eyes. His breath was a wave, building gradually as it reached the shore, breaking, retreating, building again. His world was the water; the only place he called 'home'. The only place he belonged. His goal was simple. His will was certain.

His hands were still.

Breath-taking work Cassandra! For those of you interested in having a go yourselves, the prompt for next week is:

"You see the great steeple rise in the distance, marred by shadow and mist."

I look forward to your submissions!

-Lavinia Whateley

[suevincent]

Derelict by Lady Lee Manila #writephoto The tendency of an old house to collapse Out of warren of walls, roofs and alleys Tough seeing the neighbourhood with all scraps Like crushing a vertebra when one sneezes Continue reading here