Monsters. Romance. Fantasy. Plot-Heavy weirdness abounds! Open to All.

[FroreQueen]

Welcome To:
Frore’s Fantastical Fantasies!
These Ideas and story snippets are open to all.
Word of warning though, I am an erratic poster. I love stories, writing makes me feel alive! Yet I can go weeks at a time without posting because my muse decides to sit in the corner and pout about the amount of stress in my life. I also take care of medically inclined animals that need time. Sometimes I can only help them be comfortable and they don’t stay in this world long, it wrecks me every time - which in turn makes it hard to write. All of this to say, if you expect a post a day or a certain amount a week, then I am here to shoot ideas with! But, alas, we would not be well-suited dance partners.

*There is another thing to note here. I adore monsters. Teratophilia - The paraphilia characterized by sexual attraction to deformed or monstrous people. It will be mentioned a few more times, but this is fantasy and this is what I love. Give me the broken, the monstrous in looks, and the gritty feeling of it. Show me their turmoil or their passion. Are they beasts, truly horrible in figure, but intelligent with a soft spot for things? Challenge what we know, how we think, make the world adapt or carve out a place for themselves.

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↓  Table Of Contents ↓
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On/Offs - Plus a bit about the writer behind the screen!

Poison the Mind - Usually ideas that are newly fleshed out or detailed.

The Small Ideas - Snippets of random ideas and prompts.

Lost to Time - Old stories or ideas, always willing to rework something.

Snippets! - Bits to showcase my brand of crazy.

The Main Events! - An effort to keep up.

Art Inspiration - Possibly NSFW

I have a little side note here, I feel it is very important for me to mention. If you like any of these and want to try out a story with me, then please help me build it!

Also, please do PM me instead of posting here, thank you.

[FroreQueen]

Poison the Mind
Newest Ideas || Some fleshed-out bits.
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* The Way Station*
Short-Term | Single Scene
I want to try something new.

The Concept: Hat Trick Style!
Think along the lines of a daily prompt sort of deal. There aren’t a lot of details to start with, just a few basics.

• Fantasy Level - Mundane or Magical
  
• Setting - Small town bar to new Kingdom or even a whole new planet/plane
  
• Familiarity - Do they know each other? Are they civil or even enemies
  The idea is just to throw a couple of things together and run with it for a single scene. If we want to make something more of it, we can certainly talk about it. I would, ideally, like to keep to paraghraph replies, though I don’t have a set number or a limit - just enough to keep the story flowing. Build the world around you with details in the posts, give me enough to work with and I’ll do the same.
  
  Hopefully this is a medium-paced thing and something fun to throw together.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  *A Menagerie of Monstrosities*
  Teratophile = The Love of Monsters
  Lets throw it all in here, make it bizarre.
  Action || Romance || Adventure || Stockholm
  Opposites/Enemies-To-Lovers ||Sacrificed || Summoned
  *Please Note: I can play either side for this sort. MM | MF | FF
  
  There are so many ways to incorporate the monstrous into a story! I could list a dozen and you could list a dozen more without exploring all the possibilities. The fact of the matter is that I crave the big bads right now (let's be honest, I’ll whip up any new story if I can play something crazy). Whether it’s the “pretty” sort of monster, the ones with a few imperfections of scales or feathers or scars; the ones created by the horrors of the world and turned a little bit psycho because of it. Or the ones that could never blend - the ones pulled from nightmares and the depths of the unknown. Liable to break minds when they first appear, inspiring that gut reaction to flee in terror.
  
  Yet. Beneath the oddities and the uncanny tendencies towards mayhem, they have that soft spot for the one that managed to get close (and survive the journey). A kindred spirit or a soothing balm on the chaos of their souls. Whether it’s romance, companionship, or an uneasy alliance between two vastly different beings; I want to explore the possibilities.
  
  Idea Examples:
  
  
  
  • The world has ended and now “demons” freely roam the lands
  • They coexist with humans, an uneasy alliance
  • Summons - In secret or for show
  • They lurk in the darkness, able to disappear in shadows; humans are a curiosity, maybe a fancy.
  • Cultural exchange gone wrong.
  • Every Ten/Fifteen/Twenty years, a new sacrifice is presented to the strongest few in exchange for protection. The sacrifices must always be willing, though coercion is not unheard of for these superstitious towns.
  
  
  Throw your ideas at me and let's see what happens!
  
  

  Visual Monster Ideas
  Expect Monsters/Blood

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ✴Tempting Darkness✴
  Were-creature idea for a fighting ring.Including intrigue and romance with a heavy dose of action.
  
  Setting & Story: More along the lines of Urban Fantasy than anything else. When this was first talked about it, it was mostly about a fighter and the owner coming together after flirting. More like forced together when she’s ambushed and he rushes in to save her.
  
  What I’m Looking for: Tension, romance, action. Monsters that aren’t monstrous in nature. The sappy kind of draw between two independent creatures that collide thanks to chance and fate.
  
  
  Stirring Trouble

  
  

  Tension slid through the room like a serpent, weaving into the very air and soaking through the very pores. It was kept chilled in the building, preparation for the mass of bodies that crowded in almost every night, yet there was a line of sweat darkening a cheap shirt. Ne’mehki cocked her hip against the desk, technically it belonged to her aunt who ran the ring, but here she was doing her job. Reinforcing the rules to keep the peace. She heaved a deep sigh, combing her fingers through her hair in a habitual motion to calm her rising temper, “You know the rules, Lenny. You were warned.” Her brow furrowed as she held up her hand, though not at the words being sputtered out.
  
  Her nails looked awful. She’d need to get those fixed soon, couldn’t look ragged while running this place.
  
  “There is untapped potential here. Look at the numbers! This place could be so much more, it could be luxurious.”
  
  The way he said that word felt wrong, slimy. As if he was panting over the thought of gold-trimmed rugs and showgirls. The Ring wasn’t a high-end casino, sure, but it was classy in its own way. Full of old-world charm and clean mats, free of blood too! The bar could be updated, the lights out front fixed; but that was part of the charm. The place had an inviting look while also warning it wasn’t just for show. They fought here. They bled here. They bet and they paid.
  
  They did not cheat.
  
  “You will not endanger the reputation of this place for your greed. This is the last warning, Len. Next time we won’t ask.”
  
  His rage was palpable. The veins at his temples throbbed as he stood and towered over her, his hands clenching and unclenching, “Who stops me?” He hissed the words at her, raising the hairs on the back of her neck with the threat, “Who stands in my way? Some old blood that doesn't see progress?” The building was sturdy, yet his stomp reverberated through the floor as he stalked closer, “Mongrels. We wear your hides for warmth, that’s all you’re good for anymore.”
  
  He was easily twice her size, his bulk obvious, and standing a head taller than her, forcing her to crane her neck a little to look in his eyes. They were beady, black, and shifting, his words echoing with his frustration and yet the sweat remained. Fear. Tangy and sweet. He was oh so angry and yet fear permeated the air like a sickly perfume.
  
  Ne’mehki “Koa” Yakshini lived for these moments. For this breath of a second when the world was stacked against her. Her canines were sharp, even as a human, her eyes a rich green with flecks of fiery amber illuminated the growing darkness, “You were warned.” Koa didn’t need power, she didn’t need weapons, not when her needle-like teeth tore into the side of his neck as she leaped over him. Paws barely brushed his shoulder, twisting in the air to land on two feet, the flash of a vulpine mask overlaying her features, “Don’t be stupid.”
  
  The door was gone in a flash of light, twisted off its hinges as a barrel was leveled at her. She had only enough time to protect her head and her heart when the sound swallowed all else. It echoed in her head, disorientating as she staggered back, confusion flitting across her features the second before her rage came to the surface.
  
  Hers was not a controlled thing. It was not a pretty thing of delicate movements and graceful actions. Nemehki was a fox, a trickster; she pulled illusions from the darkness and blades from the pins in her clothing. Five of the men that charged her went down before her hearing came back. Two more as she fled the confines of the office. The thought was there to get around them, to confuse them and toy with them… except everything felt wrong.
  
  There was a burning sensation just above her hip and an instinctual warning not to look at it. If she ignored the pain and what it could be, she could survive. If she ignored the way her steps weren’t even and smooth, the way her body shuddered as she slammed her shoulder against the emergency exit.
  
  The lack of a siren told her something important.
  
  This had been planned.
  
  Her fingers felt numb, fumbling for her keys in her jacket. Thank the fates she was dressed in riding gear, that she had been ready to give this warning and leave. There was enough forethought to grab her helmet and reach for her phone. Reaching -
  
  It was on the desk. Sitting on the corner where she had been playing on it, reading some stupid web article on a few of their fighters. Sitting there, uselessly, while goonies tried to end her. Fucking fantastic.
  
  Bike. Safety.
  
  The roar was comforting. The flashes of darkness where the road should be was not. Just a little longer and she’d be safe.
  
  The world tilted. Metal sang against concrete and there was a crack against the visor of her helmet. A faint scream in the distance, or was that her voice rattling around in her head? It was hard to draw a full breath and something was off about her ankle. There was knowledge she had to move, a series of thoughts that made sense, and yet her body would not respond. It refused her command.
  
  Why was it so important to get up again?
  
  
  
  ✴The Monstrously Mundane✴
  Loose Idea | Easily to play around with.
  
  
  The monsters are old news to Vishka. She grew up with them, saw all sorts and her grandmother spoke of a few hidden ones. She also told her the rules.
  
  
  
  
  • 1. Never show them fear.
  • 2. Never run, unless absolutely necessary.
  • 3. Accept nothing without clear terms.
  • 4. Do. Not. Invite. Inside. Again. (It was fluffy, what was she supposed to do?!)
  • 5. Stop trying to feed them candy.
  
  In hindsight, her rules probably needed an update from when she was five. But they still mostly worked
  
  Except the stupid chupacabra lurking in the woods behind her house. She grabbed her straw broom and stepped out the back, cursing in a mix of old tongue and new, words borrowed from when her grandmother had done the exact same, "Don't you dare bring that dead deer on my porch again! You don't even eat all of the last one and I had to clean it up." She waved the broom like a crazy lady, then again, everyone thought her a little mad, "Growl at me again and I will turn the sprinklers on, you oversized Chihuahua." There was a lot of snarling and a few thuds before the sound of dragging dead weight finally began to fade.
  
  Then the ground rumbled and a clawed hand appeared in the middle of a perfect green patch of grass. Vishka whacked it with the broom, "You. Will. Not. Ruin. My. Lawn." Each word was punctuated with a hit until the mound of dirt was as flat and even as the rest of the yard. She glared at if for a minute to make sure it stayed that way before marching inside to finish her dinner, she had a holiday to plan for and to make sure Krampus didn't bring one of the wayward children to her house again. Why he thought that was an appropriate present for her, she didn't know.
  

[FroreQueen]

The Small Ideas
Minor details to these, things that need to be further fleshed out.
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✴Urban Fantasy✴
More of a modern type setting

❥ City’s Troll: He’s got tusk and dusty gray skin, short thick nails, and a voice that rattles bones. She hid under his bridge. Freezing when she saw him, but not running in fear. No. She feared the men chasing her more than the monsters she saw in the shadows. - Valiant Inspired

❥ Forgotten Gods: Though they have no idea of it. - small things give it away. Little details. They know themselves. She burns and yet is drawn to the water, he freezes while reaching for the fire. Old god reborn, forgotten in a world that no longer worships them. Opposite that will always find one another.

❥ Eternal Balance: Life and Death are not what they seem - She is brilliant, beautiful. Glorious in her grace and style. Those around her are drawn to her, eager to see her smile and feel the brush of her warm hands. They are comforted by her but she is not the Life they cling to. She is death eternal. The embrace of peace. / Her opposite is as dark as onyx. He is cold and calculating and his smile is quite unnerving. He is Life in all things. From the budding flowers to the monsters in the shadows, he gave them all their first breath and she took their last. Does he send her gifts? Does she tamper with his creations or does he resent her for taking what he worked so hard to make? Life has always known Death. They brush past one another all the time and though they never seem the same, they are always just one step away from each other. What happens when they bridge that gap? When Life reaches for Death and they clasp hands?

✴Historical✴
Settings of a mystified older era.

❥ The Hunters: He was out hunting when he saw it. Or rather, when he saw her. He had aimed at a Doe with a silvery-white winter coat and loosed a bolt. Only to watch as a woman road a stag and aimed her arrow at him. The pain was brilliant and blinding. His friends thought him delirious, except for the shaft of the arrow lodged in his shoulder. A bolt of ash-wood and pale feathers. / Fae, Magic?

❥ The Princess and The Foreign King: She has been conditioned to bow her head, to obey and be silent. Through force, starvation, tactics of warfare, her father used to break her. To make the darkness in her yield. Is it real? Is it in his mind? Can the outside forces set her free or will they be consumed by her madness?

❥ The Knight: The one charged to protect her. He sees everything, watches the games, and knows that he cannot interfere. He cannot stop his heart from thundering when he sees her, he watches her closer than he should… he is drawn to her like a moth to the flame. - Love or Obsession?

✴ Miscellaneous✴
Ideas that don’t fit with either of the first two. Including a touch of horror.

❥ Guarding the Dragon: What if the Princess was the one that made a deal with the Dragon? What if they are both not what they seem and this is just an elaborate ruse to keep them both free of society. The Dragon has a home here, the Princess has free reign of an enchanted castle. What tempts them to stay/leave?

❥ The Sea: It can be kind or cruel. Sometimes, it lets you cross without incident, sometimes it requires a sacrifice. What would you trade to live? Do you face the monster of the unknown or do you try to run? From the depths, it rises. Scales the size of a man, teeth the width of the mast. It asks you what your choice will be? Do you chance fate? Do you make a deal with the old gods? Can be Pirate-Themed or Modern.

❥ Seaside Keeper: They drown. They rise. She's seen it happen a dozen times over. Those that fall in the water, their despair palatable. They dive into the dark depths of a cold embrace and when they come back… they are not the same. They smile at her, speak in an old tongue and off they go. Where? Why? And how did she get here?

❥ The Summoning: She is supposed to summon a demon in order to pass her initiation. She didn’t expect the creature nor did she realize the spell would bind them together.

❥ The Souls Curse: It started when she was young. The pain that wasn’t hers. Bruises across her flesh where nothing had touched her, the scars from cuts she had never had, the lack of her own injuries. When she fell from the tree and heard the snap of her wrist… yet… she was whole. The hits from training that should have hurt meant nothing, but those phantom pains could bring her to her knees. No one knew what happened. - It was a curse of souls. It tied her fate to another, only, she had no idea who this “soulmate” could be.


❥ The Dark: Horror. The lighthouse has been dark for years now. Old and faded. It was just another quaint part of the town, another attraction to see and take pictures in front of for a vacation picture. Then… one night it lit up. No one knows why. No one knows who. But they know one thing…. the ships are getting closer. /End of the world? Survival? Invasion?

❥ Monstrous Whispers - Psychological Type of Horror:I am the monster under your bed, I am the beast that lurks in your head, I am the reason you're afraid to be alone. Is it real or an illusion? The things it says, what it knows, cannot be possible, and yet you watched it rummage through your room. You can feel the claw marks on the wall next to your bed… except they say you stood there with a pair of scissors and did that yourself. No one believes you. Is it really there watching from the dark, or are you simply losing your mind?

Writing Prompts & Pairings
Small Prompts from various sources.
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*Give me stupid love story tropes.* Urban Fantasy Tight-knit team falling apart Rags to Riches Romance Platonic Deals turning into more The “Good” falling for the “The Bad” Monster | Hunter Cursed | Curse Breaker Enemies to Lovers Monsters | Creatures with intelligence Big bad beasties with soft spots Dark Romance | Doomed Love Unhinged | Slightly Insane Broken | Trauma Drama

It Turns out the monsters are there for protection. They forgot my father's name; I shall carve mine into the very bones of their history. With *True Loves* first kiss; The Knight became The Monster The sky beckoned, but they had long since bound their wings. (A) can’t even walk, but how they wish they could dance with the devil living across from them. Forever means Forever, there is no such thing as “Death do us part.” That’s what the grimoire is for. The Circus Act - Various attractions that are more than they seem.

[FroreQueen]

*Wan Shi Tong's Library*
Extra Points if you recognize that refrence.

A collection of old ideas. Open to revamping if they strike your fancy!

Small Ideas | Concepts | Prompts

❥ Silver-Tongue: She can speak any language. All of them are in their native tongue, though she doesn’t realize she's doing it. Her mother made her take a vow of silence when she grew old enough to understand she was different. She speaks only to the animals she tends to… until he shows up.

❥ The Sight: Goblins weaved between traffic while pixies knotted tangle in long hair; teeth flashed in the alleyways, slender fingers of darkness drawing people towards them. All things to be ignored, to be forgotten. Never tell them you see them. Never look at the monsters too long or they’ll know. And never show any fear. It’s what kept her moving when they crowded around her, her eyes fixed on a solid point so she didn’t look at what they were doing. Never let them know. It was the most important lesson. It was also the hardest one to follow when he looked at her.

❥ The Eternal Hunt: She was an ancient queen that ruled a small but thriving land with her beloved. Their land was rich, between the sea and the forest. They had a perfect spot, no one to oppose them… until They came. Wave upon wave, breaking down their defenses until they were nearly overrun. The old ways beckoned, a sacrifice demanded. She kissed her husband as he rallied their people, trying to defend their only home. She went to the tower full of shadows and old tomes, cast her circle, and spilled her blood - offering anything to save her people from this. To save her beloved. An act that twisted them both - Like old Djinn stories of wishes gone wrong.

❥ To Walk with Demons Further aided by Love. Death. Robots - Sonnie Episode:They were modified to fight in wars, using avatars of demons. Monsters built in a lab and synced with their handler; one mind, two bodies. It killed its hosts and drove them mad more often than not. Then the wars were over. They were decommissioned and thrown out to a world far more unstable. But the technology they carried… those that survived were still linked with their Demons. Their other-selves. In their dreams, in the waking world. In the dark, she stalks the streets on clawed feet. During the day? She tries not to get sucked into that world. Fighting avatars? Or spectral beasts?

❥ The Creations: The Robots were supposed to save them. Except the creators didn’t truly want to save people, not after they took his beloved. So he made her. Fashioned her to be perfect. She would reset this world… only they found out. They took her before his work was complete. They stashed her in the back of their storage and went on with their lives. But progress never stops, not fully. The war between the machines and man raged on. Until man was losing. Then she was found. Half complete. Half of what her maker wanted and a half - what? Is she there to wipe out the rest of humanity or to save it?

❥ Blind Devotion: He is a monster in looks, a mesh of parts that belonged to the dead. She lives away from people, traveling the roads by memory alone; her brilliant violet eyes are all but useless to her. They mutter about her pale features, the strange way she counts to herself - a measure to keep herself from falling or getting lost. What is a monster to do when injured and alone, seek solace in the one person that won't run at the first look?

Centaurs - I know, random. But the movement and awkwardness would be fantastic to explore. Newly turned vampire coming to terms with their nightlife. His voice is broken, so he uses hers to sing. Make me your villain but do not forget the favour you owe The destruction, when bathed in the dying light, was beautiful.

Fleshed out ideas with their worlds and some character creation.

The Scarred Wolf - Historical Romance

✴The Scarred Wolf✴
Realistic Fantasy, Romance, Warrior/Fighter, Adventure, Action

Setting:  This is a story somewhat inspired by a Korean drama called Scarlet Heart Ryeo - I am particularly fond of scarred beauty and the internal question of worth because of those supposed marks of imperfection.

Story: He is known as the Wolf. A bastard child that received his first scar when he was young, nearly splitting his face and almost costing him an eye. He wears a mask to both inspire fear and to hide his shame at his marred features - an insecurity that he keeps well hidden. His family is ruthless, his brothers vying for the crown. He is the one sent out to deal with rebellion or war, the one they hope will not return.

What I'm Looking For: Broken perfection. What I mean by that, is that the scars don’t define him. Though he is judged by them, thought monstrous for his actions and his flawed beauty - the black sheep among his family where the image is everything.

Dystopian -Alanna

✴Dystopian Idea✴
Realistic Adventure, Exploration, Survival

Setting:Ten years ago a plague wiped out over half of the world's population. Civilization crumbled in the madness that followed. Humanities need to survive overriding everything. Many banded together only to realize they were unfit to survive in a wild world. A world not ruled by money, but by brutality. Gangs formed, and humans roamed in packs. Their territorial disputes were solved with weapons, the gunfire dying after the first three years.

Then there was just silence. The world took a collective breath as nature reigned supreme. Roads were broken by roots, concrete jungles became full of lush greenery and hidden dangers.

Almost every city had a zoo, and almost all of their creatures escaped. Roaming humans were replaced by the dangers of a pride of lions downtown. Or a pack of hyenas making their home in an abandoned mall. Humans were now the trespassers in this world. Their technology has gone, and their weapons are limited. Those that didn't turn on each other generally lived in isolation or small close-knit groups.

Story:

Alanna Start

There was little Alanna wouldn't give to be bitten by a radioactive spider right now. Spidey had it easy, scaling the smooth surface of the buildings and his webbing as a backup. Unlike her trapped in a crumbling building. Each step forward threatened to be her last. Each vine she pulled carried the danger of something else. Broken glass, a loose beam, or a hidden fall if it was too weak.

Her backpack felt ten times heavier by the time she reached her destination. A small office with a gaping hole where the floor should have been. She skirted around the edge, hands and feet finding little nooks she had carved out before, carrying her to the other side. With a pull of a rope and a bag dropped down, weighted with supplies.

She had a dozen spots like this one across the city. Hiding almost everything she needed to keep her trips light and quick. It was something to do, something to keep her moving and keep her strong. The climbs varied, and the traps ranged from an easy gap to pulling the wrong thing and having a few bricks fall. Booby-traps for nonexistent enemies. Just like the little notes she left in empty offices. People would never read them, would never know her name, or admire the fact that she had mastered cursive before the world fell apart. They wouldn't care that she had only been 15 when the outbreak took her family. Or the things she had done to stay alive. The nightmares that haunted her.

Alanna sat on the ledge of a balcony, its railing rusted away years ago. The concrete sagged forward, wobbling when she sat down. She kept a rope around her waist, tied to a support beam further back just in case the balcony tried to dump her. She was that annoying clingy girlfriend you just couldn't kill off.

She laughed as she leaned forward, the rumblings of a storm echoing in this city of hers. Far below three lionesses moved between cars. Vehicles green with overgrowth. She had named them now. Could identify them from even up here. And she knew there were two more behind them. As well as the male that roamed down the alleyways. Alanna had a few scars from their run-ins. Marks to show she had gotten too close and barely survived. They were uneasy partners, her and these big cats.

Other predators didn't bother with the city so long as the king of the jungle ruled. And if they took her down, well Alanna wouldn't be able to blame them. Just the circle of life in this broken world.

What I'm Looking For: I want to explore some of the psychological aspects of this kind of world. Isolation does strange things to the mind. Alanna has become neurotic in some things, she talks to dressed-up skeletons and collects trinkets in different buildings to keep herself busy. She hasn’t had human interaction in quite some time. I want to build up to them discovering one another - perhaps someone else that is used to being alone or was part of a group.

Rise of Iron

✴Machinery/Steampunk-ish Idea✴
Fantasy, Drama, Survival/Horror, Possible Romance

Setting: Blue Bloods are your average aristocrats that happen to suck the life out of things. Well-maintained and cultured, these vampires are at the top of society with their own set of morality and codes. They exist alongside humanity, their law enforcers are humans and Vampyre alike.

While the sun is an annoyance, it does not make them burst into flames. Garlic is a wonderful topping to any dish and who wouldn't die if you shove a stake through their hearts?

Society is idyllic on most fronts. But there are the errant few that disagree with the hand they're dealt. Be they Blue-Bloods, humans, or other beasts that have carved out their way of living. Blue Bloods have started going off the deep end, driven mad by an unknown virus. It makes it harder to resist their urge to feed, forcing them to gorge themselves until they lose their composure and their minds. Turning them into the wild monsters that were often told in horror stories.


There are many ways to approach this idea. I had a wonderful story going on a while back and would love to visit this world again.

What I'm Looking For: A slow build of trust and possible romance between two different factions/ways of viewing the world.

Viking Fantasy

✴Viking Fantasy✴
High Fantasy, Language Barrier, Conflict in Beginning, Affection

Setting: On the note of old worlds I'd like to try out again, I once had a story involving a Viking and a Pixie protecting her forest. She could change from a doll-sized being to a petite female of about four feet. The Viking was an outcast of his people for his kind nature, left on the shores of her forest for the "spirits" of the land to take. I would like to delve into a story quite like that again, though we can change around things if need be. Could play another forest spirit aside from a pixie.

What I'm Looking For: The gentle giant, so to speak. He’s a fighter but has a soft heart, and respects the nature around him. She’s been alone for a while now, either humans have encroached on her forest or she’s on an island. I’m open to ideas and working out a setting/better plot with my partner.

Sirens Lullaby

✴The Sirens Lullaby✴

Setting and Story: This idea was inspired by talking about Carnival Row on Prime, it has been ages since I watched the show though, so I am rusty with the details. I wanted mostly to play around with the idea of Fae and Humans mixing in society, the stigma of it, and how those that appear human can hide. I also like the duality of it, balancing what you are with what you want to be or could be.

Synopsis: Nerrivik Stormwall is a Siren that looks human enough that she blends in with them. She is the captain of The Lullaby, a ship that has sailed the seas for years. She trades in wares and has a mixed crew of humans and those not quite human enough to pass inspection. Her crew is her family, her life is a quiet one - these days. Long ago, not so much. The past haunts her, ghosts dance on the edge of the water. Still, she thinks everything is fine until they are called back to port. Landlocked.

What I’m looking for: This is very much open to discussion. Either a human or a Fae could be paired with her for several reasons. Do they know her secret? Do they know what she did in the past that made her stop singing? Or maybe they’re there to help others like them. Maybe they feel for the plight of the Fae. Or not. Purists see her as someone of power to help sway others to their views. So many ways this could go.

Nerrivik Returns

Talons tapped the flesh of a bare shoulder, just enough pressure to remind the living perch it was still there and had yet to receive its reward. The caw was rich as it snatched a sliver of fish from her fingers, her other hand holding the hastily scrawled note to the light. Honestly, it would have been faster to decipher code than make out the horribly written words. Was that an “r” or a “v”? How did those two even get mixed up? And that word…was that a word?

“Well?”

The voice made her jump; her avian companion loudly squawking in her ear, “I’m trying. I’m pretty sure he hired some gutter rat to throw letters in a pot and send us on a chase. Or he’s just trying to give me a headache.” Nerrivik glared at the note, she had worked out enough of it to know the news wasn’t good, but the details were lost in the mess.

Micah snatched it from her, golden eyes reflecting the light as he looked it over. A frown pulled at his lips, his brow knotting as he squinted, “They’re gathering the pix, confining them to the Row for some reason. Calling all ships back it says. We’ve missed the fun of murders and political upheaval.”

“Color me disappointed.” She accepted the note back, still miffed that he could so easily read it when it had taken her an hour to figure out it wasn’t just an ink spill across the sheet. Nerrivik knew he was waiting for an answer or an order; anything to direct them to their next move. The note could be lost, they could take their time at sea and hope The Burgue calmed down by the time they returned. The cargo, the various goods from across the lands would be fine - mostly. The crew… now there was a problem. There were pix in the mix, full and a couple of half-bloods; nothing like hard work and danger to bring a motley crew together. The Pucks would be taken right away, the mixed-bloods could be hidden in the crowd if they were careful. The lone trow that did most of the lifting and kept to himself…

They were more than crew after all these years, they were an odd little family.

Nerrivik let the wind snatch the note from her; the sea would drown its warnings, “We are halfway home and everyone is tired.” She could live on the water, forsaking land for years on end if it wasn’t for the rest of the crew… and their families. “We have a schedule, warn them that we don’t know what we’re going to see when we dock. And Micah,” The skies seemed to darken so that they were cast in shadows, only the sound of waves lapping at the ship while they watched one another, “Get rid of the cargo.”

She couldn’t save her people if the coppers searched the ship and found things certainly not listed on the manifest. Though she wasn’t going to throw it all overboard, there were plenty of places to hide things out of sight on a vessel like this. Trap doors and compartments appeared to hold perfectly logical things. A charm over them for the superstitious crew, that was all.

Fair winds and smooth waters. The fates were laughing at them to give them such perfect days, shortening their arrival time by almost a week. The crew was a roiling mix of elation and trepidation; to see their family and the mess of the city. Would they be asked to leave the instant they hit land? Would they be given a moment to enjoy their victory of surviving the sea?

No to both. The Uniforms were waiting, watching them like the crow watched the fish they brought up; eager to feast on soon-to-be-dead things.

Marks were checked, blemishes had to be explained and those with the barest hint of fae were escorted down the dirt roads. She stood on the deck of a ghost ship now, less than a handful of her crew left. They were all silent, sullen when they should have been allowed to celebrate. Nerrivik let smoke burn her throat and coil from her lips, it was the only thing she could do to stop herself from calling out. To stop the song burning in her chest. She didn’t sing. She didn’t even hum. Not when she looked so much like a human that no one could tell she was anything different. Instead, she sat on an upturned barrel and took a deep drag of a cigarette, hoping one day it would kill the melody in her soul.

Were-creatures/It’s a Jungle Out There

✴It’s a Jungle Out There✴

Lions and Tigers and Bear, oh my! Just another Friday evening in the city full of monsters. Shapeshifters, changelings, demons; call them what you will. Those that walk the world of animals and humans don’t particularly care about titles, not many do at least. There are a few that want prestige in the way of their kind; earned with bloodied fists and mangled maws. They fight in the rings to keep from fighting those that think a little bear spray will work on them if they get pissed off.

It’s a gritty world, but it’s hers. In the ring or on the road, she seeks her next thrill. A private detective badge gets her through most red tape and an excuse to not have roots anywhere. It’s not a pretty life, hunting down the wayward kind, but she finds joy in the little things. Like donut holes, pie, and honey badgers that try to throttle her for stealing said sweets.

Ruff Night

“I’m ten minutes away from calling animal control.” The Badger braced his arms against the counter, leaning over to look at the wolf on the floor of his diner. Because of her, he had to flip off the “Open” sign and close the blinds - luckily the new waitress had just left or else she would be fawning all over the wolf. She wouldn’t last here long, not with her sunny disposition and need to be gentle towards those bearing the marks of their fights. The lack of outside lights would stop humans, but a few changelings had peered through the badly tinted door and almost walked in. Until they spotted her.

She was in the prime position that it would be hard for them to skirt around to a table. They had come from the arena and didn’t want to risk whatever they saw in the fights. The preliminary round before the match had bets being discussed at this very counter. It was a dirty round, the way the Jackal liked to play. Also one of the reasons the Badgers weren’t allowed to fight in the arena. Something about them not stopping until their opponents were in shreds; at least that was the case with his cousins. They had been fighting each other though, turned against one another after an argument over jewels. Half his family thieves, the other half a scattered mix of a bunch - but not a single one of them on the ‘lawful’ side of things. It’s why he wouldn’t call the cops or animal control on her. They left a bad taste in the place when they visited of their own accord, he wasn’t going to invite them in.

“Your gonna ruin the floor with your dirty paws.” It was tile, it didn’t matter. Too many fights had forced him away from carpeting, it was a bitch to clean. The Badger, Ivar as few called him, rounded the end of the counter and crouched down a good couple of feet away. He sat down a plate of food on the nearby table and waited, “Change and it’ll be on the house. Stay here and I’ll give you kibble.”

A single ear flicked forward as the badger talked, the words rolling around her head before they fully registered. All she could think was that the floor was nice and cool; and that no one would bother her here. It was a hole-in-the-wall sort of place that only the occasional brave soul ventured to - unless they were one of her kind. The other shapeshifters would leave her alone. The city was too crowded for her, her place was packed with boxes considering she had planned on moving before making the deal with the Jackal. A deal he danced around, the first of two matches done in a wave. Each fight was harder than the last as her body tore through its energy reserves. Exhaustion had forced her into this form, the small drive of human habit brought her here - a place she went to after almost every fight; whether she participated or just watched.

The burnout meant her skin wasn’t mending as quickly as it should. It also meant she wasn’t exactly civilized in human regard.

“It’s five in the morning, wolf. Regulars will be here regardless if the sign is on or not.” Changelings were stubborn by nature, he knew this better than most considering this diner had sat at the same corner for years. Bears, leopards, wolves - each time one managed to settle in the building, it was a headache to get them out. To convince them being human was worth the effort and the loss of a nap. Ivar glanced at his watch, fifteen past. Maybe a handful of people would be there around six - Fine. Fifteen more minutes before he hauled her ass to the freezer and left her there. It was soundproof for a reason.

Catch of the Day

✴Catch of the Day✴
Possibilities are endless, though it could have a touch of: Deceit, Discovery, Enemies to Allies, Daring Breakaways, Near Drownings, Stockholm Syndrome! (That's a Beauty and the Beast joke)

Setting & Story: Fantasy. Aside from that, a myriad of scenarios could be carried out with any plot. It's just how grounded we have them before posting; unfortunately, this one is about as steady as a bottle thrown into the sea. It could be a sailor on a ship carrying cargo for a particular merchant, it could also be pirates that caught something they only dreamed about. Maybe it's the captain that wants to free the beast? Or maybe they keep it because a crew member was taken by something like it. See? There are so many wonderful ways this story could be built up, I would gladly discuss anything that might catch someone's eye!

What I’m Looking for: A meaty tale full of drama and crafty creations. Multiple characters would, naturally, be around. NPCs can be switched back and forth to keep the story sailing smoothly. I promise I won't have nautical puns in the story. For the most part.

Picture Inspiration For Sea Monsters!

The Last Summer Sunset + Chimeras and Wyverns and Wargs! Oh My!

Summer Sunset

✴The Last Summer Sunset✴
Fantasy, Drama, Survival, Travel, Romance

Setting: The world is not as it once was. The cities have all fallen, and the magical beings in the world were forced to come together in order to save themselves. Creating pockets of civilization in a world full of rampant magic and deadly beasts. The dead have risen, though these are no mere zombies of mortal fears - these are far worse. These hunt, they tempt, and they have an army of their own. While they can be turned against each other - their true prey is the living things they wish to devour. It is a hard world of survival, one that lacks the criminal aspect for the sheer need of survival. Hunting one another is out - vampires work in the army alongside their elven brethren, and the orcs have tempered their rage and aimed their weapons toward the dead. Humans work with sirens and dwarves; werewolves prowl the grounds.

Ardakai is a nomadic hunter - she was once a guardian of the Summer Court, now she hunts and visits the few cities that still stand. She braves the elements; unpredictable weather that can have a thunderstorm on one side while a blizzard rages not two feet from it. Her specialty is crafting weapons of bones from the beasts she hunts, preserving their meat and hide to trade.

Story: 

Ardakai & Adok Introduction

“Know what I miss the most?” The voice seemed to come from the tree itself, the illusion cracking when copper eyes glanced up. Their focus rested on the avian above her, a small hawk at the moment - most of its attention on the sleeping beast below.

“Ritualistic sacrifices in your honor?”

There was no humor in his tone, even if she knew he joked to poke at her. Trying to steer her away from her thoughts before they could shift into something else. They regarded each other for a moment, avian and human. Their eyes matched perfectly, from the same green ring just around the iris to the copper that filled in the rest of it. Silence ate up the time until her stoic features cracked and she flashed him a brilliant smile full of pointed teeth, “Besides that.” Her illusion to blend with the tree broke as she sat up, reaching into a bag tucked between the leaves, “I miss the Festivals.” Nimble fingers wrapped around a hilt, pulling out a freshly made blade. Polished bone and loose hide for a handle, she hummed as she rubbed her cheek against it, “The dancing and the wine.”

Ardakai ran her fingers along the edge, testing it before she slipped it into a makeshift holster at her back. Quickly followed by three more of various sizes, “The honey bread we would have in the evenings.” She could almost taste its sweetness on her tongue; just as she could almost hear the music and laughter of her people. Memories that carried their own sharp edges.

“It is unwise to dwell on such things. Does the city not have provisions?”

“You know what I mean.” She turned away from his sharp stare, pointing the toes of her bare feet as if poised to start a dance. “Summer days to summer nights, warm kisses in the meadows, laughter by the fire.” Her people. Her home. That’s what she missed. That’s what she couldn’t get lost in and why her companion refused to indulge her musings. They took her too far from the path they were on; too far for him to follow. Things she couldn’t say, thoughts she couldn’t dwell on. She had crafted a set of rules and goals - ritualistic things to keep her moving when she didn’t want to.

“Fall, Kai.”

Ardakai twisted in the air, jumping from the branch to plunge toward the ground and her prey. Hunter to hunter. It looked up when she was almost there, it’s surprise rapidly morphed into rage as she used one of her new blades. The momentum of her fall forced the bone blade through flesh and muscle, straight between the neck and shoulder. She didn’t have time to twist it before the creature threw her, its claw catching her leg in this deadly little dance of theirs. It lunged as she rolled; the second blade near its heart. So close.

For every plan, there are a dozen mistakes to consider, a hundred different variables with only one outcome: death. Hers or the beasts. Always. It was perhaps one of the few consistent things left in her life. This broken world had stolen away just about everything else, though she had left the bitterness of her survival long ago. Now the void rose only when she allowed her mind to sink too far beneath the surface. Everything she had survived would not end here, not yet.

The third blade found its mark at the base of the skull and the fight was over. Internal decapitation. Severed the spinal column so that the thing collapsed beneath her. Then it was only a matter of working quickly to get what she needed from the carcass. Stripping it of everything she wanted and everything she could trade.

“Two from the north. More to follow if you do not hurry.”

Before the fall of the world, she would have had other hunters to help her. Most kills they would carry back, large ones they would strip the necessities and leave the rest for scavengers. Time had always been on their side, back when the things they hunted weren’t quite so gargantuan. Once, she could have had it done in seconds with a tap into the power of her people - more bloodied memories to slow her down. The blades were back in their slings, the meat was sectioned into large portions she would have to cut down later and the hide was stripped to be tanned in the safety of her keep. The only thing left was to take the skull and clean it out. It would bear the symbol of her old home when she returned with it on her next hunt, where she would hang it in a tree to watch over her claim of the forest. Nearly half of the trees had skulls hidden in them now.

“Do you plan to take all day?”

She wrapped the hide around the meat and tied the bones to the bundle, dropping it beside her, “So impatient, Adok.” The shadow of the hawk grew as he descended, his size drastically changing until he could grab the bundle in one massive talon and her arm in the other. They lifted from the ground when the two creatures he had spotted came into view. Power wrapped around them as they crested the treetops, the gentle urging to not see them; for the eyes to slide right off the massive bird and his cargo. Habit from days when they had to hide from a mortal’s gaze.

“If you are to keep your trading schedule, you will need to hurry with these newest creations.”

“I have other hides and plenty of weapons, there is no rush for these.” It would happen anyways. Only the bones would be left. She would need time to sharpen and carve them. Those she refused to be hasty with, they had to be honed and tested so that they would not fail their wielder in a time of need.

What I'm Looking For: Open to Idea. Thinking of someone that she either meets by accident or perhaps the situation in the town is getting a little dire and they need more supplies.

Chimeras and Wyverns and Wargs! Oh My!

✴ Chimeras and Wyverns and Wargs! Oh My! ✴
Action | Adventure | Monsters | Peril | Possible Romance
It is still an open concept, a world I’m slowly piecing together. I would love to have input or share ideas about it.

The Setting and the Idea:

The setting is loosely based on the 1800s, sort of early industrial revolution type. Horses, and horse-drawn, transportation is prevalent still. A caravan of wagons is most common between small villages. Swords and Bows are the weapons of choice for those that travel while guards carry guns and charms of protection. Places are walled off from their surroundings, gates are drawn at dusk when the monsters come out to play.

Hunters/Guardians are not quite human, they have a touch of “Other” about them, something that makes them more. They can take a hit or a fall and keep going, whereas a “normal” person would easily break. They are both needed and feared in this world; for you cannot be made into one. Humans can study arcane arts to protect themselves or their family, pledge their loyalty to a Lodge in a city. Hunters, however, are simply born the way they are; some with small enough talents that they choose to hide them and pretend to be mundane. Safe. Others cannot hide what they are; whether it's their bright eyes or their not-so-human features that give them away.

Crafters: Humans or hunters that have a talent for taking the monster parts and making something with them. From perfumes to charms and wards; to the occasional weapon. Weapons can sometimes have a sense of self. A “knowing” if you will. Expose something to enough magic and monsters bits and it is bound to have an opinion on the matter.

Story:

Introduction of Ardakai & Adok

Power fizzled to life along flowing curves of darkness, markings that disappeared beneath a heavy ivory tunic. A flash of heat that lingered long enough to chase away the bite of cold, just long enough for steam to rise from a nearly empty mug. The world was busy, people shuffling about in the dreary shadows of dawn, faint voices calling out to one another behind her. The crowd shuffled to and fro, jostling each other in their rush. Not that their harried steps mattered, those that were leaving wouldn’t be doing so for another twenty minutes. Still, they hopped aboard the train as if more than the cold nipped at their heels.

Each person made a point to not look in her direction. A conscious act that had them drawing up to a stop if they got too close. It wasn’t that she seemed unfriendly; in fact, Ardakai offered a slight smile to any that held her gaze for more than a fraction of a second. Nor was it the rather large hawk perched on the railing behind her, his golden feathers shining in the morning light. It could’ve been the blade strapped to her thigh, its bone hilt polished to a shine, or the polearm resting within reach. There was a possibility her eyes unnerved them, too vivid of color and with too much light in them.

It didn’t help that she wore a band around her upper arm, the word ‘GUARDIAN’ obnoxiously bold and a gaudy shade of yellow. Little things that added up, oddities they knew marked her as something different, something other. There for their protection, even if they outright avoided conversation.

Her attention drifted down, away from all the people not looking, to the child that gazed up at her in open wonder. Rather, he was watching her avian companion. There was a question on his face, one she silently acknowledged as she held out her arm and waited for the talons to carefully wrap around a leather brace. Crouching down, she brought the hawk within range of the child, smiling at his wonder. Adok preened with the attention, feathers fluffing out as the boy broke the silence, “Are there monsters?” His voice was barely heard above the din of conversation, as if talking of them might call them.

Kai was quiet for a moment, mulling over it before she rolled her shoulders in a gentle shrug, “They don’t like trains anymore; too fast, too loud.” Not a lie. Not the whole truth. There was a reason she was hired, but there was also a reason she was the only one for this trip. Guard posts along the way were there if they needed help, but a trip of three hours was usually uneventful. Usually being the keyword. There wasn’t a chance to say anymore, not when a woman came behind the boy and snatched him away. The boy was enveloped by the ruffles of his mother's dress as she practically dragged him into the luxury cart, he managed one look back before the doors closed.

“She seemed positively lovely. Do you think there is a human under all that frill? Or maybe a wraith. It would be an excellent excuse to find out, wouldn’t it?” Adok spoke without really speaking, the words a flash of thought in her head as he fluttered back to his perch, landing as a shrill whistle tore through the air. Smoke and steam billowed from the front of the train, the call for the last five minutes going down the line. Only a few more people scrambled forward, the platform mostly clearing as people went about their lives.

“Excellent or not, I doubt I’d make any coin if you try to eat one of the more prominent passengers,” A laugh slipped past her lips, “Besides, you’d choke on all that fabric before you ever found a human.”

“Worth a try.”

Ignoring the avian, she picked up the rest of her things, “Don’t go picking fights, friend. Smooth traveling would be nice this time around.” There were no more jokes or even words, just the flair of golden wings and he was gone. She felt the ripple of power in the air, and knew that if she looked up she would catch a glimpse of him between the clouds; far bigger a shadow than the hawk had a right to have. Kai grabbed her bags and weapon, hefting them over her shoulder and slipping inside. She was silent as she stalked past the closed passenger doors, their words muffled by thin partitions; stopping only when she reached an empty boxcar.

The doors were open, letting in the cold while letting her watch the world pass at an increasing speed. Heat fanned across her fingers, a curse flitting across her lips as she sank into a crouch. It just had to be the tail end of summer, didn’t it? No hope for warmer days for at least a handful of months, not if she didn’t keep chasing the warmth across the world. At least their destination wasn’t supposed to have snow yet, though her luck wasn’t exactly holding out in the weather department. An hour and a half into the ride, no interruptions except for a few flurries of snow in the distance. She glared at the sky as if she could ward away the clouds, her thoughts interrupted by a flash of copper feathers and amber eyes.

“Near enough to hear, but not close enough to catch. Shouldn’t be an issue.”

“What is it?”

“Wargs. Vargrs. I forget what they call them.”

“Cranky, oversized wolves that like to eat people?”

“Fitting, yes.”

“Think you could draw them away?”

“Naturally. Want one?”

It wasn’t an unexpected question considering that Ardakai sold bones for various uses, but it took her a moment to answer. Not because it was morbid, she just didn’t know if she had room for it, “Just the skull, I could use the teeth and sell the rest I supposed.” She’d get more parts, and in turn, more money, if she joined the avian and properly butchered the beasts… but the cold, and the fact they only had a little over an hour left to go now, kept her rooted to her spot. The conductor wouldn’t be happy if he couldn’t find her otherwise, always fretting that she was going to fall out. Not to mention she couldn’t leave them without a guard for the last leg of the trip.

Admittedly, it was the thought of a hot meal and a warm drink that kept her from even considering following Adok. He could draw the wargs away, they could be that much closer to a hearty meal and she could still claim it was a smooth, uneventful ride. Maybe the fates were on her side

What I’m Looking for:  Someone to help me create a brilliant story! Some fun with the settings, monsters, and everyday life. It’s rather open-ended at the moment, so I welcome all ideas.

[FroreQueen]

Writing Snippets
Vague flashes of story that I had to get down before my muse smothered me.
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❥ Deaths Lullaby:
Red stained bones flashed between the gaps of pale tendons, jagged edges of flesh eaten away by rot. Fatal wounds leaked murky viscera while thick foam frothed a once beautiful muzzle. The stallion no longer danced beneath the moonlight, instead its legs threatened to fail at every step, it's mangy mane came out in clumps as it swatted at the memory of flies. It felt nothing now, just the need to move forward, to continue on. It carried it's rider further from the slaughter, away from the sounds and smells of the dying. The steady march of it's hooves broken by the billow of it's lungs; ragged breaths it did not need.

Power bled from her like the blood between her fingers. A wooden shaft of a barbed arrow lodged in her shoulder was less concerning than the slice along her stomach. She had avoided a sword, but the knife that threatened to gut her was something she had overlooked. Now her blood, as black as the night, wouldn't stop. It spilled down the saddle, left a curling trail of flowers in her wake. The world blurred and her mount stumbled, a wild look flashing across the eyes of the horse.


❥ Broken Mirage:
The ground gave beneath her feet, pitching her forward as a hole opened up. A gaping mouth devouring everything around it. She was falling, sliding down the sharp incline. Her nails broke as she scrambled against the earth for anything to grab onto. Any sliver of hope.
Her feet found traction, her fingers wedged on the seam of a crack. One good kick and she was up, over the edge. The air rushed into her lung, making her gasp and cough from the displaced dirt. Not safe, not yet. This was only the start.

She had been thrown on this world. Dropped, left. Half of a whole now. Parts of her cleaved away, weakness her creator had told her. Weakness needed to be forgotten.

Mirage missed the flesh that had covered the muscle on her cheek. The dust made it burn, breathing was twice the effort with one lung. And climbing was made all the more tricky with a broken arm and a mangled leg. All to make her better. All to make her strong.

She spit blood, cursed the goddess of chaos as she stood. Her bones grinding together, her forms lost. Somehow stolen. Every image she had taken gone. Created and destroyed in one fell swoop. But she wasn't done. Couldn't be. This wasn't all there was.

Something flashed on her good side, a blur of a motion. Seconds to register what it was before it knocked her back. Bones crunching in a sickening way, her impact with a rock less than kind. It hurt to breath, hurt to move; let alone think.. But there it was. The beast that saw her as prey. A lovely little abomination. Something half made then forgotten, forced to evolve on its own, to survive anyway it could.

Like her.


❥ Silly Conversation:
"I said 'Shoo.'"

"I'm sorry - you just told an otherworldly demon to... "Shoo"?"

"It wouldn't stop staring, so, yeah?"

"Uh-huh. How's that workin' out for you?"

"Honesty? Could've gone worse."

"Is that why it's trying to eat you?"

"No. That's because I stole it's eye."

"You... what?"

"The staring thing. Yeah. Stole it when it didn't shoo."

"And you thought this would be okay....how?"

"We'll, to be frank, I didn't think that part through' hence the teeth."

"Right."

"Look, could you judge later? And, I don't know, break it's jaw so I can have the rest of my body back?"

"You could just wear it as a belt. A reminder to think things through."

"Yeah. But the teeth - they're not comfortable in the slightest. I think this green gunk is poison."

"Venom."

"Same difference."

"Not exactly. Venom is-"

"Whatever it is, it's leaking into my organs now. Could you fix it?!"

"Don't yell, you'll only agitate it."

"I have its eye in my hand, I'm not sure how much more I can piss it off."

"Give it ten minutes and you'll think of a whole list of ways."

"Are you going to help or not?"

"Against my better judgment... yes. Take my hand - ew, no. Wipe the venom off before you go touching people. How rude."


❥ The Big Bad Wolf:

Content Warning: Blood and Gore

The rhythmic sound of blood dripping on tile was accompanied by the grating hiss of stone against steel. The weapon gleamed in the flickering light of the fire; freshly cleaned and polished. The hands stilled, the room began to sink into silence. Only the steady drip of liquid could be heard.

A crack of a log broke the spell, the figure standing as the blade twisted in a test swing. It was a thing of beauty, that blade. It held a faint curve to its thin form, a wisp of a weapon. As deceitful as the monster that wielded it.

She was delicate in appearance, with a fierceness to her eyes that most viewed as a challenge. The subtle drape of her clothing made her seem small though her height of almost six feet put her above most mortal females. She was a viper among children, as content to bask in the sun as she was to kill them all with one bite.

There was no slinky dress now, no thumping music to hunt to. Only her prey kneeling before her, his head bowed and a steady flow of blood sliding from his chin to the floor. Iron chains bound his hands back, but he wouldn't have fled even if he was untied. Or rather, he couldn't. She had cut his hamstrings and cauterized the wound so he wouldn't bleed out. Crawling had only gotten him so far, he was hers now.

She didn't bow, didn't crouch to bring herself level with him. Her bare feet slid across the floor with ease, the soft whisper of flat steel against flesh the only sound she made as she circled him. Stopping in front of him, letting the flames frame her image so she was just a shadow in the light. Her voice was soft, musical. If she ever thought to sing hymns then people would mistake a monster for one of the holy, “I miss the old days. When you had fight, when your kind weren't romanticized. When you weren't wolves trying to be lap dogs.”

Her nails were painted red, her hands stained a dark color as she slid her fingers through his hair. Tightening her grip until he growled and looked up at her. His eye flashing yellow as his beast rose to her challenge, “You were a great hunter once. Your kind was feared. They were worshiped. God's given flesh in this hell of a world.” She brought her blade up, slid it between flesh and muscle. Perfectly skinning only a fraction of his face. His howl was hoarse, they had done this before, his body struggling to mend what she broke. “Once this would not have held you. Once it would have taken me days to break you.” Another cut, another chunk of flesh falling to the shadows. “I miss the challenge, I miss the way you all banded together to fight.” She closed her eyes as she brought the blade up, sliding her tongue along it. “Fear. Fear is all I taste of you. No defiance, no rage, no backbone. You reek of fear.” Her eyes glowed now, green and gold twisting through her iris. Fangs extended, a set of eight, four on top and four on bottom. Thick enough that her jawbone cracked, small enough that her smile was somehow charming as she watched him.

There it was. True terror. She could see it in his eyes and the way he tried to jerked away from her. His jaw worked uselessly, she had already parted him with his tongue and shattered most the bones in his face. Over and over again until his body stopped healing, trying to focus on everything else to keep him alive. “You see. I miss what your kind once was. Now I get scraps, mutts that only hint at their lines.” Her knees hit the blood covered floor, her blade clattering beside her forgotten as her touch became gentle. Delicate hands guiding him to look down at her now. “I will rid you of your weakness, I will build your lines back up.”

She leaned forward, pressed her lips to his neck as her tone grew softer, intimate, “I will make you gods again.” She brushed her hand along his mangled cheek, “Then I will devour each and every one of you.” He pulled away as she snapped her teeth on his neck. Her fangs shredding his flesh, his body too tired and used to heal now. Death too good of an executioner to ever spare him.

She ripped his throat out, blood coating her mouth and chin. Her smile was angelic, serene. A tilt of her head raising her eyes just enough to see the other person bound, his muscles working at the restraints. Blood from the iron cuffs already crusting around his wrists. He had witnessed it all. He tried to scream as she stood, picking up her blade and stepping over the body of his fallen comrade.

“Shhh, shh. It'll all be over soon.” She left a bloodied handprint when she patted his chest, “They told you it was easy. A stake to the heart and some fire would set things straight.” She sighed as she pressed the blade against his chest and flayed him like a fish, “Stories. Lies. All told so someone could kill the big bad wolf.” She wiped the blade off on his arm, “So someone could be a hero.” Only the top set of her fangs appeared, “Tell me, do you feel like a hero?”

[FroreQueen]

The Weapon and The Beast - Crixus

Werewolf Wonderland

✴ Werewolf Wonderland✴
Gambling | Romance | Monsters
Mostly with the idea of urban fantasy.

Part of this was inspired by this floating around online:
“There are hardly any female werewolves because they break all the classic rules of femininity. They force you to confront female violence, strength, size, grotesqueness and uncontrollability. Historically female shapeshifters always shift into something dangerous (snake) or sleek (cat) or dainty (bird) but female werewolves ignore the masculine gaze completely. They’re distorted beasts that have no ulterior motive except to destroy. Nothing about them is nurturing or modest. […]”

And I love playing crazy monster sorts. (Lets face it, I’m just using excused to write a badass werewolf.)

Name: Amara Aconite
Age: Mid 20’s or 30’s
Species: Werewolf. She is not ruled by the moon, nor does she become some slavering beast when she changes. It is neither pretty nor done in a flash of heavenly light, and she doesn’t turn into a wolf. She becomes something like the Hollywood werewolf of old. Massive, strong, and inclined to bite things before talking out problems.

Setting of the snippet: Old School modern (oxymoron here I go). Sort of like an urban fantasy, I suppose. Magic and monsters, some are known while the big bads are tucked away in the shadows lest they break people's minds. Nothing too outlandish, but plenty to play around with.

What do I want: I have no clue. I want a story of two lost souls finding each other. Probably a bit of violence. Most likely a lot of drama and some cheesy romance. Help me build a story! Throw your ideas at me like old-school lawn darts - impale someone and call it hitting a mark!


Story:

Content Warning. She’s a werewolf, there will be blood.

Lights flashed overhead, the rumble of music a pulsing rhythm that kept people coming back; a beating heart of a cruel lover. The air reeked of failed dreams and false hopes, an undercurrent of smoke and too much perfume stung her nose, making her eyes water if she took too deep a breath. There had been a moment of calm as she shuffled the nearly new cards between nimble fingers. A moment where her body moved on autopilot and she caught the sweetest of scents in the air. She had tilted her head just a touch, golden eyes pinpointing her mark within seconds. It wasn’t like she had to search for him, not even in this crowded place of mythical and mundane. It wasn’t that he stood out either. There were plenty like him around; impeccably dressed with devilish eyes.

Cards flipped from her hands, drawn between her nails, and placed face-down in front of a group of five. Her table was full. That didn’t stop her from flashing him a charming smile, promising temptation with the way she cocked a brow and the subtle way pearly teeth bit at the corner of her bottom lip. Her attention was pulled away by a tap on the green felt of the table, answered with another card smoothly flowing to the patron. He was human, by the look and smell of him; even if the mark on his wrist identified him as a hunter of her kind. Only the “rogue” ones, they claimed. Hiding the way they drove their prey mad beforehand so they could justify their murder-lust. It took a moment of will to keep her lips from snarling at him, to hold down a growl that would be perceived as a threat. He thought he was here to mark her, to run back to his people and have them tail her.

One piece of the puzzle, one single card. She wasn’t going to play her hand until they were gathered up, then she would show them what a mad wolf could do.

That was the plan.

It was solid. As solid as the decks she played.

If this idiot wasn’t trying to fuck things up. A flash of silver. A lance of pain in her hand as the cards tumbled from her hold. The Joker card flipped up, a smear of red across the laughing face. Amara watched as her hand bled across the table, her gaze locked onto the fool with a knife. Something tasted sour in the back of her throat, her wound burning at the edges. The man launched forward, causing her to stumble back in her favorite pair of heels as he wrapped his hands around her throat. He was shouting something about monsters and his family, some tragic backstory she didn’t bother listening to. Not while he was trying to squeeze the life out of her. Ineffectual in his attempt, annoying nonetheless.

There was no blackout moment like the books wrote it, no magic of some “other” self coming to rise and defend her. No “wolf” she could talk to in her own head that acted of its own will. That was bullshit. There was just her. Just her bone warping, breaking, and rapidly healing wrong in some ways. Her skin burning as it blistered and itched, a thick hide of black fur wrapping her from head to now-elongated claw-tipped toes. Her dress was a forgotten slip of fabric, too small to contain what she was now. A hulking beast of sleek muscles and sharp teeth. Her mouth had warped to that of an oversized wolf, her body looking more the classic horror movie prop than the elegant thing she had been moments ago. Still, there was beauty in her form. Whether the human she held by the throat saw it or not, wasn’t her concern.

Amara didn’t have some flash of magical light that made her change graceful, just a few charms woven on her skin to avert the eyes. A protection needed as she opened her maw and slammed it shut again, ripping her head back and taking a chunk of flesh with her. She spit out the gory mess, refusing to eat common trash, and dropped the twitching body to the floor. Sharp ears flicked back as she curled her tongue over her canines, pausing when she saw the “hunter” brandishing a knife and waving it in the air.

Only…. He had his back to her. Facing another human in an attempt to protect her. A snort blew bits of blood from her nose, clawed hands rubbing over the fur of her face as she watched them arguing over the “morality” of murdering her here. As if location mattered. Two hulking bouncers were weaving through the crowd, though no one was in hysterics at the display. Some spell to calm them, or so that they saw nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone agreed to it when they came to gamble at this particular den of sin.

Amara did her best to stop her laughter at the insanity of the situation, gauging the distance between the guards and the two idiots in front of her. It was almost like they completely forgot about the giant werewolf standing to the side of them. A little insulted, but thankful for the distraction, she let her bones break and reform again, her fur melting away into smooth skin. Her dress was gone and her shoes were undeniably ruined, which angered her more than the slowly healing wound on her hand. She had just bought them! They were red and laced up her calves, now they were in tattered pieces. Her feet in her other form didn’t exactly spare human footwear. Frowning, she left the pieces for other staff to pick up, too annoyed to deal with it right now. No one paid her any mind as did her best to smear off a bit of the blood on her face; only making it worse. The only clean thing on her was the wrap around her hips, even the enchanted cloth that bound her chest was stained red at the edges.

It would cost her a fortune in dry cleaning for these two pieces, a necessity to keep from streaking whenever she changed. Turn in a practically naked amalgamation of a wolf and human, no one said anything. Turn into a literally naked human and everyone lost their ever-loving minds about propriety and being appropriate. She was so done for the night. Let the bouncers handle the rest of the people, she needed a stiff drink and another change of clothing. Probably after scrubbing the blood from her skin.

Beastly Beauty - Headshot

Small Idea - Beastly Beauty

❥ Beastly beauty: He had a name. But he has always looked like a monster. She was beautiful - until they scarred her for being a witch. Since then, she hasn’t uttered a single word. She lives on the edge of society, the edge of her town. They watch her, they leer, but they say nothing, do nothing. Until the butchers' boy and his friends follow her one night. Like wolves, they stalk her to her home, to her favorite spot in the woods. It is there they ambush her. Only. They didn’t expect another predator to be hunting that night.

Secrets of the Devine - L’Im

The End of the World as We Know It

The End of the World as We Know It
| Status: Actively Looking | Medium: Threads, Google Docs | Post rate: 1-7 days |

✴Victorian Secrets✴
Could include Romance, Arranged Marriage, Deceit, Discovery, Surprise Romance

Setting: Victorian Fantasy. Carriages line the streets of the wealthy, ladies of class don tight corsets and always have a chaperon in their sights. Parties are attended on a monthly basis, lavish events meant to connect businessmen and their wives to those of their station. And to marry off their children to help secure their lineage.

Story:

Introduction of Jamie Hughes

Boots thudded along the sparse hallway, the older gentleman needed no direction from the maids to know where his child was. In the study, as always; reading over charts and numbers as Robert had done in his own youth. Except this went beyond even his dedication, not that he could complain - business was steady here and booming overseas. Their ships had gone from a handful of barley decent vessels to practically a fleet of marvels. Deals and trades he no longer had a hand in were happening behind that door, but this was not something to be let go of so easily.

His one true heir was two years shy of thirty now; without a wife and with far too many rumors circulating. Robert would not see this company capsize because of such antics. Without knocking, he stepped in the room and prepared for battle with the wild thing behind the desk. Brandishing the envelope like a rapier, he held it in the face of the youth - features that hardly mirrored his own, “I have already sent your acceptance.”

Obsidian eyes rimmed with thick lashes sucked him in, the gaze as welcoming as a cold night at sea. The look was wasted on the older man, he refused to recoil from something he had taught his own child to perfect. Like his father before him, he knew just how to counter the immense attitude, “James, you cannot ignore another function and expect society to simply move on without question. Numerous businessmen are attending.”

Jamie plucked the envelope from the outstretched hand, unfurling the letter within and reading aloud; a hint of mockery in the tone, “I am overjoyed to hear of your latest conquest in the northern markets and have heard of your investment in our shops here-” The pause hung heavy between them as James looked up, lofting a delicate brow, “Our investment?”

Robert sank into an overstuffed leather chair; stretching out his tired legs and running his fingers through dark hair peppered with gray, “A small contribution that allows them to expand their space for a percentage of their company. An easy investment considering their popularity.” His laughter was rich at the new look he received, “I have dealt in business longer than you, boy.”

The younger of two snorted, going back to the letter, though Jame’s no longer read it aloud. More praise for their contribution and joy over their interest. It was the invitation beneath the letter that concerned James. “A banquet, father?” The invitation was stiff, gilded around the edges, gaudy. Like the women that would be there - too fancy for what it was. James tossed both to the side and went back to the maps, “I refuse to dance with some toddler that prattles on about dresses and nothing more.”

Robert felt his sigh from his very bones as he watched his child; only their hair and eyes matched. Everything else was a stark contrast to their shared bloodline; where Robert was broad of chest and wide of muscles, James was lean though years at sea added the definition of muscle. Still, he wanted more for his only child and knew just how to push matters to suit his needs, “There was a time where you would speak of nothing but dresses.”

A pencil hovered over the map, frozen by the words and annoyed that the prodding actually stirred something, “Careful where you step, father. My childhood need not factor into business, remember?” A childhood that had been there and gone, swept away by the death of a brother and a mother.

“I am making a simple point Jamie. You must make an appearance, charm the toddlers, as you call them. Reinforce connections and strengthen your footing.”

“My place as heir is without question, my power needs no definition, and I have no time. That is why I do not attend.”

“I have had offers, James. So either you take a wife or you have a damn good reason why you cannot. The rumors cannot be allowed to grow, they will have an impact on how people see us. Which can affect the company.”

“A wife?” Jame’s laughed, holding the invitation up, “Is this what this is about?” Leaning forward, James hissed, “What if I wanted a husband instead?”

Robert surged up, out of his chair, rising face to face with his child and barely containing his anger, “Then you should have remained talking of dresses rather than take on the responsibility of this company!” He straightened, holding his head high and looking down his nose, “I am a businessman, James. I gambled on my own child and it is still my name and reputation on the line. Do no disappoint me. And do not be late.” As he had entered, he now left. Without a word or a backwards glance.

Jamie sank back into the chair, looking over the charters without really seeing them. A wife? What a joke. No woman would stay here, not after they learned the secrets that Jamie hid. What a terribly cruel joke indeed.

More about Jamie Hughes: Once upon a time, Jamie dreamed of dresses and ponies - envisioning a wedding that would make her the envy of the girls. Her father had nothing to do with her, grooming her older brother to take care of the family. He often shared his lessons with her, teaching her how to read the maps, balance the books, and what to look for when investing. He was her elder by five years and still he shared with her. His joy for his work infectious... Until one day she heard her mother screaming. They never told Jamie what happened, or why her brother was covered in blood. Just that he was gone. It was the grief that took her mother - once an vibrant source of joy turned to endless sorrow; she wasted away little by little.

It was just her and her father. He took convincing, countless nights of talks that bordered yelling before they both left that accursed house. Her dresses and ribbons packed in a box - left behind with the rest of their past. She butchered her hair, impressed her father with what she already knew and began to simply go by James. Fortunately, her mother had not been a curvy woman, even with a corset to help. It was easy for her father to introduce her as his second son, no one had ever seen them all together. It wasn’t long before James was just another businessman.

What I’m Looking for: There are a couple of ideas to toy with here. Either an arranged marriage is forced between two people - James to another lass or a lad that was once a childhood friend and therefore in the dark about the needed change. Or maybe someone from a lower class family that either wants a way up and out of their life, or has genuine feelings for James. I also enjoy the arrangement for a family to get out of debt, maybe a reluctant daughter that does it to save those she loves.

Picture Inspiration For James Hughes

[FroreQueen]

• Added “The Way Station” concept
  
• Reformatted a few things
  
• Shoved some old stories in the library
  
• Working on new prompts and small snippets.