#ranboo writing

[mariigold]

The Melting Point of Paper

A rainy day digs its hands into Snowchester and turns the eyes of springtime onto the quiet town. Ranboo watches the home he’s made as its history fades to memory. He’s visited by friends, allies, and family, and his solitude slinks on until there’s no sun to blot out, no icy stillness to wash away. Privately, he wonders if there was ever any home at all.

We’re allowed to post our entries to Ranboo’s writing contest now! Hooray! That means I can finally show you all what I’ve been sitting on, which is this: an experimental character study with lots of dialogue and imagery (and some themes of derealization, so do be safe) that might just be some of my best work ever. 

So, do be a dear and let me know your thoughts over on Ao3! Thank you for reading, and good luck to all the other writers who participated! :D

[surohsopsisofclouds]

One thing I love about horrific and tragic moments in writing is that you don't focus on the big details, you focus on the smallest effects of them.

You don't focus on the blackened remains of a village. You focus on the many faded hoof prints leading in and out of the village, stamped into the ground and painted onto the wood of broken doors with old soot.

You focus on how far away this village must have been from anywhere else, how quickly their emotions turned to dread when they first smelt the smoke and heard the starting screams.

...You focus on the simple, scorched little doll next to a crumpled home, and you focus on the too-small skeleton's hand sticking out of the rubble and stuck eternally grasping towards it, just a little too out of reach...