Day 26: Writing A Letter

Day 26: Writing a letter

Max formally telling their friend they burnt their brownies

Prompt list by @icannotreadcursive

A week away now!

The prompt theme for November 2023 is Ohne-vember!

I hope you'll all appreciate the German-English bilingual pun.

If you use this list, please tag me here @thepromptfoundry, I'd love to see your writing and art!

Respond to as many prompts as you want or as interest you, don't worry about missing or skipping any, take it as an alternative to NaNoWriMo if that suits you. Remember, this is supposed to be fun!

Plain text list below the cut:

1) Without light 2) Without sound 3) Without context 4) Without death 5) Without stopping 6) Without a friend 7) Without a plan 8) Without support 9) Without pain 10) Without fear 11) Without air 12) Without water 13) Without people 14) Without clothes 15) Without memory 16) Without speech 17) Without touch 18) Without love 19) Without hate 20) Without anything to do 21) Without modern technology 22) Without regret 23) Without a way back 24) Without supervision 25) Without heat 26) Without shame 27) Without waiting 28) Without hiding 29) Without a clue 30) Without rules

OC-Tober Day 23: Enjoying a nice drink

Prompt: Enjoying a nice drink

I used the OC-tober list made by @icannotreadcursive

Link here

.

.

.

.

OCs: Sylv and Zid

Sylv sighed as he leaned back in his pilot chair. He rubbed at his forehead, watching as the distant stars sped by. His fingers twitched as he felt a dull throb starting up. He gave a dark mutter as he tried to rub his headache away. A soothing smell drifted into the cockpit, and he looked over his shoulder.

Zid was standing in the cockpit doorway. “Tea. It helps with headaches.”

Sylv held his hand out, and Zid passed him the mug. “Thanks.” It probably won’t help, but he’ll try anything before it gets worse.

“At least we were able to shake them.”

A hum left Sylv as he took a sip, letting the taste of the tea fill his mouth. He looked over to see Zid sit in the co-pilot seat. He reached over to pull out the tablet that Sylv uses for their jobs. “I’m worried something is hidden in the cargo to warrant that dog fight.”

“As long as we don't get a fine or arrested. I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, but they said there wasn’t anything dangerous on board.”

“Trust me, Zid. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.” Sylv took another drink before muttering. “I need to stop taking cargo runs.”

“We need the money.”

“Shame.” He took another longer drink. “This is good.”

“Mom’s favorite brand. I had some bags left in my stuff.”

Sylv gave a hum as he looked at the mug. “You get headaches?”

“When I get overstimulated from noise. I was hoping to get more, but it looks like I’ll run out before then.”

Reaching out, Sylv gave his hand a pat. “We don’t know that.”

Zid gave him a smile before turning to the viewport and closing his eyes as he leaned back in the seat. “I don’t mind.” He looked at Sylv. “I like traveling with you. I feel like I’ve made a home here.”

Sylv paused in taking another sip to look back at Zid. There was a content smile on Zid’s face. The warm feeling Sylv had in his chest had him looking back at the mug. As he took a drink, he let a small smile appear on his face before suppressing it. “Well, if your cooking continues to improve. Then you can stay as long as you like.”

Zid huffed a laugh, “You’ll miss me if I wasn’t here.”

“It would be quieter. Less running from dangerous creatures.” Probably too quiet, but the gasp Zid made had him hiding another smile into the tea. “I’ll miss this tea.”

Zid rolled his eyes before passing the tablet back to Sylv. Sylv took the tablet to place back into the side pocket. “I would miss this.”

Sylv finished the tea before placing the mug on the ledge next to his seat. “I might miss you.”

A laugh slipped out when Zid threw his hands in the air. “I’ll take it!” Zid leaned over the arm of his chair. “How’s the headache?” A second passed before Sylv looked at Zid in surprise. “The tea works.”

“The tea works.” Sylv leaned back in his seat before picking his mug up to show Zid. “Is there more?”

Zid stood up and took it from him, “I can make more.” He gave Sylv’s shoulder a bump with his fist. “Be back.”

Sylv watched as he walked away before looking down at his shoulder. He placed his hand over the spot, but it felt cool to the touch. So why did it feel warm?

OC-tober Day 21: Kisser exploring an unfamiliar subculture

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

Under a cut due to length~ I got inspired~

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

The Aquatic District on Coruscant was not a particularly pleasant place. Despite regulations about water quality and the truly cutting edge filtration systems installed throughout its crown of all-water towers, much of the pollution sunk to the lower levels where filtration was expensive and the inhabitants poor. Coming from a predominantly oceanic world, Kisser didn’t know how Coruscant could possibly have restricted its livable waters to a single district. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t like the answers.

“Keep up,” Finley scolded him  on their internal comms, pulling Kisser’s attention away from the fact that he could barely see the people around him, let alone the buildings they were swimming between. 

The bastard was keeping a SCUBA trooper’s pace, though, so Kisser snipped, “I haven’t been in a suit since Kamino, jackass.”

“Weak,” Finley teased, but he did slow down. “We’re nearly there.”

“Thank fuck for that.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Finley laughed, “They have these snail-sucker critters that they keep around the market, so the water quality’s a lot better. Might even be cleaner than the air at the one near the Temple!”

What Finley didn’t bother to mention was the waterlock that separated the market from the street–Kisser would bet that helped as much as the filter-feeders.

When the water around them had been fully cycled, the doors opened to reveal a brightly lit space both like and unlike any market Kisser had seen. It was lit from every direction with colorful bioluminescence–Kisser couldn’t tell if it was painted on or cultivated or both–and stalls were arranged according to the hollows in a massive column of coral stretching vertically in both directions. The deeper levels decreased in brightness, while the ones above seemed to have something simulating sunlight in the furthest heights–barely detectable from their current depth. Plants and filter-feeders littered every surface not dedicated to commerce, ranging wildly in size and shape. The cacophony of colors substituted for the noise Kisser usually associated with markets, as most vendors and patrons were using various dialects of Republic Basic Sign. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Finley said wistfully. “If the war ends for me, I want to get a place nearby so I can come here every day.”

Kisser simply nodded, still poleaxed by the unfamiliar beauty.

Finley quickly decided that was enough “gawking like tourists” and led Kisser through the market. They were technically there on assignment–an errand for Finley’s General, Fisto–but really it was a thinly veiled excuse to get them both out of their own heads. No use wasting shore leave thinking about their losses; they said Remembrances for that. It was an excellent distraction, and Kisser didn’t mind coming off like an idiot tourist. He was one, really.

One of the more doodads-and-trinkets style shops caught Kisser’s attention, so he swam over to it. When the shopkeeper paid him no particular mind–Finley had warned him to just leave any shop that seemed even a little hostile–he perused the half-flan bin. It was mostly a collection of flawed items: carved beads and clasps that weren’t quite up to standard, woven bracelets clearly done by a still-learning apprentice or a faulty machine, and a variety of other decorative bits and bobs.

He picked up one of the beads–a malformed little fish with luminescent stripes.

The shopkeeper came over and waved to catch his eye. “It won’t glow,” they told him. They were a slim Nautolan, reedy and animated.

“Sorry, again?” he asked, a half-step behind as he adjusted to using RBS in his suit.

They pointed up, then said, “In air, the paint can’t glow. It only glows when there’s enough water.”

“Got it, thank you,” he said, not putting the bead down just yet. “Are they all like that?”

The shopkeeper considered that for a moment, then answered by pulling out some iridescent pieces. “These are shinier when wet, but they’re still pretty dry. If I were making them for air, there’s a varnish I’d use to get the same effect.”

They chatted about materials for a while, until Finley appeared next to Kisser.

“I see you met Portia,” he signed happily. On comms, he said, “I thought you got lost. Glad you’re okay.”

“Sorry, I got distracted,” Kisser spoke, even as he signed, “They were telling me about shell inlays.”

“No worries, trouble’s not subtle around here,” Finley assured him. Outwardly, he said, “Oh, they’ll go on all day if you let them.”

“You let me,” Portia said playfully.

“I have a crush on you,” Finley replied, completely blasé.

Kisser blushed, but Portia grinned toothily and said, “Careful what you wish, little fish.”

Before they left, Kisser bought the bead for Finley.

~+~

Day 22

OC-tober Day 26: Kisser writing a letter

Recently, I’ve been working on a Star Wars fic with a higher than usual number of OCs. The fic isn’t posted yet, but I thought I might put a few of these out there.

I mercilessly cheat at prompts lol

The original post is here by @icannotreadcursive.

Day 1

~+~

General Windu needs to improve his fine motor control. Kisser understands this. A coma will really fuck up your dexterity like that. Well, Healer Che insists it was a Force-induced Healing Trance, but Kisser trusts Krukenberg when he says no matter how much Force nonsense was happening, General Windu was in a coma.

Still, if General Windu is the one who needs to improve his control, why the hell is Kisser the one learning calligraphy?

“Less shaky,” General Windu says approvingly, as he watches Kisser’s most recent attempt. “Your confidence is improving.”

“I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to lie,” Kisser shoots back, trying again.

Windu snorts. “Unlike other religious orders, Jedi are not bound to truthfulness.” He pauses as Kisser swaps to a new character, just to try something different. “I think at times, that helped us survive. At others, it allowed others to cast suspicion on us.”

“And now?” Kisser asks, forgetting for a moment who he’s speaking to. 

“Now, it is neutral,” Windu decides, “We may wield the truth as we see fit, at least aware of the consequences in a way we may have been…encouraged to ignore them before.”

“Bright light makes fog harder to see through,” Kisser mutters as he fumbles stroke 5 again. He doesn’t notice Windu’s bemused expression.

Jedi Master Mace Windu will think about that statement for many years to come.

Kisser forgets it almost as soon as he says it.

~+~

Day 27

October 24th “being cared for by someone they love”

Prompts by @icannotreadcursive @thepromptfoundry

Today I drew Rosa being healed by the princeling Keylas. She had been a prisoner for a long time before Keylas’ brother rescued her., and in that time her captors had badly broken her legs to prevent her escaping. Keylas tenderly picks up her legs and begins to fix then it is a slow painful process but it is one done with love