Posted by Claine October 6th 2025, 2:15am
Phew!! I planned to get this announcement out sooner but time got away from me! Who is ready to start writing in November!
The Resources page has been populated but feel free to drop additional resources in the masterlist!
How about a little writing activity to get you started! Pick one of the characters from your upcoming project and have them stand up in front of the class and introduce themselves. Are they shy? Do they show off? Post as a response for this announcement! If you post a minimum 100 words by the 13th of October (that's a week away!) you will be in the draw to win your choice of an Oil of Epicness of an Enchanted Silk Cloak
Edit: the contest has closed!
The Resources page has been populated but feel free to drop additional resources in the masterlist!
How about a little writing activity to get you started! Pick one of the characters from your upcoming project and have them stand up in front of the class and introduce themselves. Are they shy? Do they show off? Post as a response for this announcement! If you post a minimum 100 words by the 13th of October (that's a week away!) you will be in the draw to win your choice of an Oil of Epicness of an Enchanted Silk Cloak
Edit: the contest has closed!
Community Feedback
- (Late to the party, but still wanted to join in!)
(Congrats, Fantax!)
_____
A hurried tip-tap, tip-tap slap of naked feet against the floor comes through a moment of relative silence in the room. Several average sized guests look down and step back with soft exclamations of surprise.
“Mhm! Mhm!” One helpful guest nearby scoots an unoccupied stool over to the central table and assists a small sized Myconid with access to a better vantage point. This being is about 9 inches tall with a wide-brimmed cap of orange and yellow speckled with bright blue dots. They wear the equivalent of a toga, a lace kerchief tied with sparkly golden rick-rack at the waist.
The Myconid looks around the room and waves one stubby little fungus arm to the crowd before tucking away a notebook and pen in their appropriately sized haversack. It seems they’d been listening and furiously scribbling notes about the speakers until a few moments ago…
From here, the small mushroom being gestures boldly to the crowd as if to explain a very thoroughly detailed travel plan… Made clear only when they unfurl a tiny scroll with quite detailed, hand-drawn maps. The following section features a drawing of a treasure chest, surrounded by exclamation points and question marks.
Next in their bold proclamation for adventure, The Myconid points to a colorful series of doodles including, of course, one very familiar likeness:
1. In a library studying with unmatched dedication.
2. Boarding a train while wearing a fancy mustache.
3. Waving a wand accompanied by a spider assistant in a feathered hat.
4. In a noir-style detective’s office with a bottle of milk and a cup of cocoa… There are definitely marshmallows.
5. Swinging from a vine with one arm and holding a mysterious crystal in the other. Followed closely by a rolling boulder.
6. Flying a plane with a long flappy scarf!
7. Working at a candy factory only for things to go awry. Their cheeks are clearly full of candy.
Finally, the Myconid stashes the scroll, standing proudly, as if to allow time for intense awe from the group! Whether or not anyone applauds, they bow and leap from the stool in a daring show of adventuring prowess. They bounce off of a hooped skirt, knock gently into a doe, and scamper out of the room! -
A young lady steps up on the podium, carrying with her a bright smile under a freckled nose partially hidden by long, oaken strands of silky hair, hazelnut eyes watching nervously at her audience. A white lab coat covers her lithe, well kept form, a black shirt underneath with the logo of some metal band, and on the coat, the logo of the Umbrella Pharmaceutics Corporation is sewn on her chest pocket. She looks optimistic, far too much, given the current situation of the city she studies in.
"Err, hi! I'm Olivia Haskett! I'm seventeen and I study on Raccoon High. Well, not for long, that is. Thanks to the amazing tutor of Mr. Nathan Haskell - that's my biology teacher, if you don't know - I'm getting enrolled into Raccoon University!" Olivia flashes a wide, toothy grin. She holds up a binder she carried to the podium, opening it up to thick, busy pages filled with cell diagrams and the relevant chemical processes involved. "And how is that? Well, um, allow me to introduce you to transduction!" The girl waits a response from the audience; "If you don't know what that is, transduction is the process by which, and I quote, foreign DNA is introduced into a cell by a virus or viral vector. I know, it sounds scary, and you must know viruses by those pretty nasty names, like Influenza, Smallpox, Ebola... But! Did you know we can also use viruses as tools? And weapons against other diseases?? Certain viruses can be used to cut nasty bacterial infections dead on its tracks! And what else? Making genetic diseases a thing of the past through the use gene therapy! As you might already know, the big brains of Umbrella Corporation are butting their heads day in and day out creating new forms of helpful viruses, for a future where diseases might not even exist anymore!"
With naive optimism, Olivia proceeds to explain the vast, minute details of the proccess of transduction, dipping into subjects far advanced for a lady of her age. Her tutor watches from the shadows, a tall lanky figure, Professor Nathan Blackburn, the stern biology teacher to a class of child prodigies, mind who was mentored by brilliant researchers of Umbrella, watching his new generation of great mind sprout before his very eyes.
"-And with that, I wish you all a great afternoon and... Stay healthy! Wash your hands and wear your masks! The smart guys at Umbrella got your back!" -
Vardarianna had made a deal with the Guardian of Forever and stepped through a portal of time was loitering at the back of the class. It wasn't that she was shy. She just didn't want to draw attention to herself while she completed her plans. But if not now, when? She had friends everywhere...
She walked up to the stage and stood at the podium. If she was going to be queen, she needed to speak publicly. so it was best to practice in a strange new world. Getting the class's attention, she started to speak...
"Hello! My name is Vardarianna, the eldest daughter of King Aragorn II and Queen Arwen Undomiel. Much of the history up to my time has been well accounted, but the time after my father and mother left the physical world, not all things were as sweet and rosy as some would have you believe. My brother, King Eldarion, is a good king, but he is too focused on the realm of Gondor. Fortunately for me, I have gained the trust and support of the people of Arnor, and I will soon proclaim the succession of Arnor from Gondor, and be named Queen of the North."
Vardarianna realized she may have said too much. She thought she saw that 'Rick' guy appear, then disappear in the back of the class. She needed to get back to her world as soon as possible.
"Thank you." she said quickly before gathering up her skirts and rushing to the back and out the door to the place where the time portal had been. -
I hope I haven't too late for this. The setting is perfect as my story about a high-school student. So, show up yourself Eirin!
~~~
Of course, walk in front of everyone and stand in the middle where every eyes set on her? No... she can't do that. She will never do that. The girl would rather walked off class or raised her hand and asked the teacher if she could go to the toilet to hide. Instead of showing off, she'd rather have herself hiding somewhere which no eyes could even follow her. No. Not in a million years she could do that. It wasn't because she was scared or she lack of knowledge for being in front of the class. No. She knew herself that she was smart. Even if she wasn't the genius but she was bright and loves to learn. Eirin would never show off but half of her likes the competition. It was complicated, yeah. But, for the sake of the show must go on, she had to go forward. Alright, alright. Pressed on her nervousness, she walked forward and have herself stand straightly where everyone could she her. Actually, she loves the spotlight. Occasionally. She didn't like it much very often. The woman just like the competition.
"Well, Hi. I'm Eirin. I'm 15 years old. I might be the youngest on the class but! I never place myself as one of the youngest. Truthfully! I want to have friends. I want to be friends with everyone. Although I'm shy, quiet and reserved but... please be patient to talk to me. I'm a good listener truthfully. I can't give a good advice but... I can at least have your back as your company. I think that's all?"
Her cheeks flushed to red and the heat went circling around her neck to her back. All over her body felt hot now. Even though she was glad she talked well on her introduction, and have a little sweat on her hands because of the nervousness. At least, she had some progress! -
Risa’ad was a middle aged man with a scruffy beard. When he pulled the bold leather hat off his head, his hair was windswept as if he never wore the thing for long. He wore a neat cut waistcoat with a red belt tied at his hips that hung midway down loose trousers. When he smiled at the other guests, his skin crinkled at the edges of dark eyes.
“I am Risa’ad Moreira.” His voice was soft, and anyone interested in hearing what he had to say would have to lean in to focus on his words. “In my youth I captained a ship. Though, if you were to ask her name, it was regrettably erased from the memories of all those who experienced her.”
Risa’ad stared out the window as a film of grief passed over his features, but as soon as it’d arrived, it was gone. The easy smile returned, “Though now I serve as quartermaster on the Pride of Aldeneia, so things have a way of of coming full circle, I suppose.”
It was easy to see the man was a sailor fo some sort, but anyone who’d been on the Pride of Aledeneia knew full well they did not have a Quartermaster named Risa’ad.
“I think… that may be all I care to share.” He winked at his peers, took a deep bow, and returned to his seat. -
I walked up from my spot to the front of the group excitedly. I can wait to meet everyone! I could feel my loose waves swishing back and forth against my upper back with a slight bounce as I walked up. I step up to the stand.
“Good Morning everyone! Hii, it's so nice to meet you all," I started. “My name’s Lyra!”
I clasped my hands together in front of me, hands still covered in dust and soot from the clock tower repair I'd been working on earlier this morning. “Sorry, i look like a mess right now, i came here straight from work, no time to change and wash up! But I hope you don’t mind.” Thankfully I had the mind to not wear white today. Instead I had a gray flowy long sleeve shirt that bells out and cinches at the wrists, and dark leather pants.
“About myself, hmm..i like reading, i love cats, in my freetime i’m often traveling all over; but when i’m not doing that i enjoy coming home and spending time with my sisters. Aaand i love meet new people like you guys. Half vampire i may be-” I sucked out my cute retractable small fangs with a cheeky slight grin “-i promise i won’t bite..hard." *i giggled slightly at my own sarcastic joke.
After introducing myself, I hopped back down and back to my spot.
After everyone had gone, I got to go around and talk to some of the others. Some seemed more shy, sticking to the shadows in the corners, and a few even chose to slip away the second the social aspect started. But the people I did meet and talk to: EE, so lovely! I think i’m gonna love spending the month getting to know these people. But I still have to wonder, even now as I walk back home watching the end of the pink sunset…
Where is my next Journey gonna take me? -
Gabreel stood before the prying eyes of his unknown peers. He wasn't interested in this. He didn't have anything to say; nothing that he could say without fear of judgement or scorn. His life was not one they would be interested in hearing about. At least, the part of his life that were safe to tell them. He could lie, and say that everything in his life had been happy and well rounded. That life as a Prince was nothing but glitz and glamor and getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
He could lie.
Except, he couldn't. He hated lying. More so than that, he simply couldn't get the words out of his mouth. It was like trying to force an ice pick into his eye socket, it wasn't meant to be there, and therefore he couldn't do it without a tremenoud amount of pain.
The light was far too bright above head. The silence too loud. The eyes on him made his skin itchy and he shifted his weight from one food to the other.
"I am Prince Gabreel," he said simply. "I don't know why I'm here, nor why you act as though you care about my life. You'll go about imagining it as you always have, irregardless of what I say." -
"Uh...Hi. Is this thing on?" The plain, unassuming, brown haired, slightly chunky, middle aged woman standing on the platform taps the microphone with her forefinger, causing a hiss of feedback to screech through the speakers. Yes. Definitely on. She winces, then sighs before offering those listening a lopsided smile of apology.
"Sorry about that," she begins before giving her shoulders a quick wiggle to shake the nerves from her body. "Anyways! My name is Victoria Sheridan-Delgado, but you can call me Vicky or just Vi. Just don't call me late for dinner!"
There's a pause when she waits for folks to laugh at that terrible joke. Naturally no one does, but she doesn't seem too concerned by that fact. It's never garnered any laughs before. Why would that change now? If no one ever laughs then why bother saying it? Well, some habits die hard and fond memories of her father die harder.
"Right. Nevermind," she quickly continues, blowing past the fact that she's completely embarrassed herself in the first two minutes of speaking. Shame is a young person's game. She doesn't have time for that any longer. "Let's see. What can I tell you about myself? Well, I'm a forty one year old, married, mother of two. I work as an assistant manager at my friend's bakery and I had my gall bladder out last spring."
There's a pause as she considers what else she might be able to tell others about herself before finally, grudgingly, almost angrily adding, "And I am absolutely, positively, undeniably NOT the Chosen One!" -
The main character I will be highlighting is my oldest and most beloved character. I am going to put this in words because it is still almost unbelievable for me - I created my first version of Gandrell in the spring 1996, which means I will have been writing him for almost thirty years. To create his introduction, I have taken small snip-its from past stories and previous descriptions I have used and mashed them together. I enjoyed the introduction so much I have added it to my character's profile, which is the purpose of this project for me - to hone all the details of this character. Now, I leave the spotlight to him to introduce himself monolog style. No breaks or vast descriptions of his over-the-top mannerisms that are synonymous with his speeches. Just his words, which should paint a stylish enough portrait.
"Gandrell here. Behold: your hero for the duration, a perfect imitation of a blond, blue-eyed, six-foot Anglo-Saxon male. My eyes are gray, but they appear a piercingly striking blue. If you see them turn violet, well…run. I am vampire, and one of the strongest you'll ever encounter. I earned my strength, not through time or trials. I seduced my way into the world of more ancient vampires and took from them what I desired – power, knowledge, abilities, and strength. My mouth is well shaped and can look very mean or extremely generous. It always looks sensual. My emotions and attitudes are always reflected in my entire expression. I have a continuously animated face. My fangs are too small to be noticed unless I want them to be, they're very sharp and I cannot go for more than a few hours without wanting blood. Of course, I don't need it that often. Just how often do I need it? I don't know, I haven’t put it to the test in over a century. If I am staved for blood I look a perfect horror - skin shrunken, veins like ropes over the contours of my bones. I don't let that happen now. I'm immortal. I've been virtually ageless since 1589 when humanity was stolen from me, and I was gifted with eternity. The light of the sun, the sustained heat of an intense fire – I know for a fact these things can no longer destroy me. Am I unique? By no means. I myself combine the best of vampiric youth and old age. I have a modern sensibility and a dead aristocrat's impeccable taste. I learned to speak English from a flatboat man who came down the Mississippi to New Orleans about three hundred years ago. I learned more after that from the English language writers - everybody from Shakespeare through Jane Austin to J.D. Robb and more recently Mitch Album, whom I read as the decades passed. When I speak, I drift into a vocabulary that would have been natural to me in the eighteenth century, into phrases shaped by the authors I've read. But, in spite of my French ascent, I talk like a cross between a debonair southern gentleman and a coon ass from the swamp. I know exactly who I am. I am rich. I am beautiful. I can see my reflection in mirrors and in shop windows. I love to sing and to dance. What do I do? Anything that I please. Call me arrogant, please. If you think me arrogant it means my mask is in place. What lies beneath the mask? Only a very small selection of chosen people will ever get to find out. Does that offend? Good. It means I have made an impression. But, has it made you want to know more?" -
Lizbeth is very shy, extremely shy. The more as she is going to talk about what she experienced while escaping that horrible place she was imprisoned.
Lizbeth? Who is that?
Well she's that anthropomorphic doe, built as a very attractive lean human adult woman, and yet a cervidae, a deer with a humanized body. Please welcome Lizbeth:
"Hi everyone, I am Lizbeth, Lizbeth Redwood. I'm a deer, totally a cervine. I adore tenderness and avoid any harm, if it is meant for me or for anyone else. Yes I'm a doe, live as a doe, but this human form is given to me...", she looks down to the floor, ashamed, as the reason for this alteration of her body was sex, sexual attraction for a lot of humans and other species.
"I was held like a slave until I saw a chance to escape, and I did, I ran away, as far as possible, far away from the abuse." Lizbeth has difficulties to talk, still the memories are present, unfading, strong, almost unbearable real. The doe has decided to 'soften' those memories, blurring them somewhat by counting her story to everyone.
"Yes, I've decided to tell my story, maybe those remembrances will hurt less afterwards. And the story I'm about to tell is the time I ran, the time I got away from that infamous zoo. I was alone, so it will all be only me, my thought, me feeling things, running away, meeting others, more or less kind. The story will stop, the moment I bump into someone very special, someone I cheer and adore since that particular moment, when my life turned into something better."
The doe keeps silent further, but her dismay is obvious, breathing jerky as if she might burst into crying soon. She closes her eyes, not looking at anyone, embarrassed and still ashamed. Not many know her story, some of them don't judge her, but way more would consider her unworthy and disdain her, mock her and spread untrue rumors.
Even if she keeps silence, reticence is over, seclusion will stop, when everyone will know the truth. This is the reason this doe keeps on going, has the courage to give words to her torments.
"Thank you" comes timidly over her lips
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Myconid Explorer (played by .the.MILK.theef.)
October 16th 2025
6:14pm