fool’s quest

The trees cast a shadow over everything, blocking out the sun as Adriaan moved amongst their trunks. As a halfling, at 3 feet 4 inches tall, all but the baby trees towered above him. He didn’t mind, however— it made him feel safer, protective by the thick wood that made up the bases. The smaller he was, the easier it was to go unseen, and the more protected from danger he was, despite the fact that he was drifting dangerously close to a camp of goblins.

Hunkering down against the dead leaves, Adriaan listened closely for a moment, before dismissing it as simply an animal. He continued on his path to the old ruin, wanting to investigate it. He’d heard from others in the camp that it was nearby, and couldn’t resist the chance to do some looting. The halfling had found his best sword in a ruin— it had only needed a good sharpening.

His green eyes brightened as he came upon the ruin, getting a small chill of excitement as he thought of all the things that hid in an old tomb such as this. He clambered up the steps, coming upon the doorway, but froze before he entered. He wanted to be sure there were no traps upon the doors.

A full examination revealed none, and he pushed the doors open to the musty interior. The air was strangely cold, and he tugged his dark cloak tighter around his shoulders. His sword thumped against his thigh once as he hopped down into the cracked floor, and he paused to light a torch with his flint and steel. The fire flared at first, and he waited for his eyes to adjust to the new light source in the dark.

The torch let him see the temple for what it was— beautiful, and remarkably well kept. The floor was polished, white, shining in the flickering flame, with a path proceeding forward up to the front. A dust-covered window allowed little light, so Adriaan edged closer to better see what lied ahead.

As he approached, he realized how lavishly this temple had once been decorated. The remains of silk lay across the rotting wood benches, and what might have once been velvet covered the floor at the front of the temple. This must be where the priest or priestess spoke, he mused as he looked over the stone table.

It was only very close, under close inspection in the light, that Adriaan saw the dark stains across the stone, and realized what they were. He stared in shock and horror at the dried blood that seemed to cover the whole of the stone, except for a small patch at the corner. Spotting that grey bit of stone confirmed that it was not merely the color of the table, and the halfling felt queasy. He stumbled backwards from the bloodstained table, and tripped on a fold in the fabric on the floor.
Adriaan fell backwards into an altar, covered in fresh donations of flowers and bones. The old wood of the altar cracked under even the light weight of the 13 year old halfling, and he fell further to the hard stone beneath it, the contents of the altar shattering around him and on top of his stomach. He groaned, shock from the fall overtaking him for a couple of moments.

After a few minutes of lying there, he pulled himself up and dusted the fragments of the altar off of his clothing. His cloak had torn on the corner of the wood, and Adriaan frowned slightly at the large rip in the fabric. With a sigh, he took it off, stuffed it in his pack, and set about leaving the old temple.

"This creepy old place wasn’t even worth the walk," he muttered under his breath, heading toward the light of the door. His torch had gone out in the rush of the fall, leaving him with only the sunlight shining through the open doorway to guide his feet. He made it back to the entrance, but found himself unable to pass through the doors. It was as though there were a wall there, but he could see nothing before him but air. His hand pressed flat against the air, stopped by the invisible force, and he kicked out recklessly.

While grumbling over his now-broken toe, a voice drifted from a dark corner, and Adriaan tensed. “You have desecrated this place, my house, my TEMPLE. For your senseless wreckage, you will pay.” He couldn’t see well enough in the temple to be sure, but it didn’t look like anyone was in the corner, and it only made the crawling under his skin worse.

Nervous, Adriaan found his voice, and replied, “I’m very sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen— I just tripped! It was an accident!” He hoped that would appease whatever force spoke to him, lest it strike out in some horrible vengeance. He felt all of his childish naivete fade as fear overtook him, from head to toe, and he remembered all the tales his mother had told him of vengeful gods and evil sorcerers.

Sorry? That does not repair the damage you have done, both physically and spiritually, to this place of my worship.” The voice grew louder until it sounded like there was someone next to him, shouting in his ears. Adriaan curled up, trying to cover his ears against the noise, but it only moved to speak inside of his mind.

For your blatant disrespect of my temple, your curse will be thus: you may never find solace or comfort in any temple, for you shall never pass through its doors. No matter the deity, you are forever barred from all temples you come across, at risk of great pain to your mind and body.

After the voice faded, he was thrust from the doorway, landing face down in the grass outside of the old temple. Adriaan didn’t want to get up, he felt so hopeless. How could he explain this to anyone? He was such a reckless fool.

20:47 29/7/2014 No 2 notes

(via eeveestho)

20:25 4/4/2014 No 80,784 notes literaryheroine

humanstuck gamzee what the fuck menagerie question mark question mark.txt

trigger warnings: hallucinations, blood, allusions to mental illness

gabriel is gamzee, gaspar is karkat

Read More

0:21 19/3/2014 No 1 note

i may be a fire
passionate and hot to touch
prepared to protect

but i am nothing
without the fuel you provide
to keep my spark safe

3:59 24/2/2014 No 0 notes
glasslung:

of bitten tongues and fingernails: a poem for liars

glasslung:

of bitten tongues and fingernails: a poem for liars

(via biromanticsteve)

5:21 22/2/2014 No 90 notes

yamatohatake:

sauntering-vaguely-into-insanity:

officialundertaker:

grellsutc1iff:

antagonist does not equal bad guy

antagonist does not equal bad guy

antagonist does not equal bad guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist does not equal good guy

protagonist

image

antagonist

image

literally the defintion of protagnoist is the main character and the antagonist is the person who opposes him it has nothing to do with morals or right and wrong

(via roboboners)

2:12 24/1/2014 No 88,601 notes darbroy

clefaiwy:

My mom told me to “find a man who respects you like a sea captain respects the sea.” A man who looks at you with awe and reverence but knows you are a force of nature. I like that.

(via belledearie)

2:11 24/1/2014 No 430,689 notes sinkorswimisbullshit
Writing Prompts 101

malikmanips:

addyrps:

(SOURCE) Even if you are not a professional writer you probably already heard about writing prompts. They represent a very effective tool for any writing project, so it’s a good idea to know how to use them.

What Is A Writing Prompt?

If you’re a fiction writer, you may want to consider using writing prompts to kick-start your creativity. A writing prompt is simply a topic around which you start jotting down ideas. The prompt could be a single word, a short phrase, a complete paragraph or even a picture, with the idea being to give you something to focus upon as you write. You may stick very closely to the original prompt or you may wander off at a tangent.

You may just come up with rough, disjointed notes or you may end up with something more polished and complete, a scene or even a complete story. The point is to simply start writing without being held back by any inhibitions or doubts.

Here are four good reasons for writing to prompts :

  1. Sometimes it’s hard to start writing when faced with a blank page. Focusing on an unrelated prompt for a while helps get the creative juices flowing. If you write for just ten minutes on a prompt, you should then find it easier to return to the piece you intended to write. You may also find that if you stop trying to think so hard about what you wanted to write and switch you attention to the prompt instead, the words and ideas for your original piece start to come to you after all.
  2. The things you write in response to a prompt may also end up as worthwhile material in their own right. The prompt may give you ideas from which a complete story grows or you may get fresh ideas for another piece you are already working on. It’s often surprising how much material you come up with once you start.
  3. Writing to a prompt regularly helps to get you into the habit of writing. This can act as a sort of exercise regime, helping to build up your “muscles” so that you start to find it easier and easier to write for longer and longer.
  4. Prompts can be a great way to get involved in a writing community. Sometimes writing groups offer a prompt for everyone to write about, with the intention being for everyone to come up with something they can then share. This can be a source of great encouragement, although knowing that others will read what you have written can also inhibit your creativity.
Examples of Writing Prompts

The following are twenty writing prompts that you could use to spark your imagination. If you want to use one, don’t worry about where the ideas take you or whether what you’ve written is “good”. The point is just to get into the flow of writing. You can come back later and polish if you wish to.

  • It was the first snowfall of the year.
  • He hadn’t seen her since the day they left High School.
  • The city burned, fire lighting up the night sky.
  • Silk.
  • She studied her face in the mirror.
  • The smell of freshly-cut grass.
  • They came back every year to lay flowers at the spot.
  • The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone?
  • This time her boss had gone too far.
  • Red eyes.
  • Stars blazed in the night sky.
  • He woke to birdsong.
  • ‘Shh! Hear that?’ ‘I didn’t hear anything.’
  • He’d always hated speaking in public.
  • She woke, shivering, in the dark of the night.
  • The garden was overgrown now.
  • He’d never noticed a door there before.
  • She’d have to hitch a ride home.
  • His feet were already numb. He should have listened.
Where To Find Writing Prompts Online

The internet is a wonderful source of writing prompts. There are sites dedicated to providing them which a quick search will turn up. Examples include :

There are also numerous blogs that offer a regular writing prompt to inspire you and where you can, if you wish, post what you’ve written. Examples include :

There are also many other sites that can, inadvertently, provide a rich seam of material for writing prompts – for example news sites with their intriguing headlines or pictorial sites such as Flickr.com that give you access to a vast range of photographs that can prompt your writing.

If you’re on Twitter, there are users you can follow to receive a stream of prompts, for example :

Another idea is just to keep an eye on all the tweets being written by people all over the world, some of which can, inadvertently, be used as writing prompts.

How To Make Your Own Writing Prompts

You can find ideas for writing prompts of your own from all sorts of places : snatches of overheard conversation, headlines, signs, words picked from a book and so on. Get used to keeping an eye out for words and phrases that fire your imagination, jot them down and use them as writing prompts to spark your creativity. You never know where they might take you.

(via w-nderl-sting)

0:50 24/1/2014 No 1,555 notes

(via missblackwood)

0:31 24/1/2014 No 3,014 notes queencersei

With your words
you stitched together
the pieces of my heart
shattered after so
many years of aching

With your hands
you made me feel beautiful
for the first time in my life

With your kiss
my fears are silenced
hushed under the levee
of your love

With you, I am whole
in a way that I have
never been before

15:17 23/1/2014 No 2 notes