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Original Creativity Center works are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License, unless stated by the owner. Permission to distribute commercially must come directly from the artist/writer. Some individual works (RPGs, stories, artwork) may have their own licenses, so be sure to pay attention and heed those as well. The above purely exists as an umbrella license.
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End of Year News (December 2017)

Thu Dec 28, 2017 3:57 am by Adrian

(It's been one year since I made a news thread, oops)

Merry Christmas/Festivus/whatever holiday you do or do not celebrate!

2017 was a pretty busy year IRL for most of us - according to forum statistics, our busiest month was in June with 1671 total posts, meaning our post rate has been a little …

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Forum Bug

Wed Dec 28, 2016 3:18 am by Adrian

Hi all,

We're aware of a peculiar forum glitch that's causing some subforums to be locked.

Due to the lateness at this time, it might be a while before the glitch can be remedied, because despite my best efforts and as far as I can tell, everything seems to be working fine admin-side. It may have …

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Discord News/Update Test

Thu Dec 08, 2016 1:35 am by Adrian

Just a news, update test. Trying to get this thing to work.

Comments: 0


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Post by Lady Senbonzakura on Mon Dec 31, 2018 6:49 pm

Hands now empty, Aquila hovered their arms in front of their abdomen, before wrapping them around their stomach. Their face started to burn, and they lost control over their lips, trying to press them together to stop them from quivering. Their vision got blurrier and blurrier, until they felt the tears run so far down that they dripped on their neck. They hadn't cried like this in months.

The Nitarem tried to blink it away, but it only made more tears fall. They had hoped that they would never have a breakdown like this in front of anyone after the trial, but they physically could not stop themself. They weren't sure what phrase exactly set them off, but somewhere around "someone I can trust", Aquila let out an audible sob. The last time they heard words akin to these was from their father, some time before Imperiel took them to Elysium. That was no more than two years ago, but it still felt like an eternity. They never thought they'd hear anything like this again.

Finally, after thinking over everything, they began to nod. They couldn't trust themself to speak, but they had made their decision, and for Sariel's sake, it was "yes."
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Post by Sal on Mon Dec 31, 2018 6:58 pm

{ Sariel }

Setting the doll down beside me on the bed, I rose gingerly, my cheat fluttering and heart reaching out to Aquila who was now sobbing. It was never my intention to make them cry, but it seems this entire subject did make it worthy of tears. Even I had started to cry opening up to them and taking in just how much pain they had inside over all this.

Without words, I finally moved over to Aquila and tenderly, but slowly, reached out and held them. It was strange to think how small they were in my arms. Frightened, alone. I felt not only motherly instincts but a pulling urge to protect them at any cost. To change the path they've so seemed to have chosen. I wanted to see them smile, to find a new happiness. Not just with me, but the little one as well. I wasn't able to say these things, however. I was too afraid to make Aquila seem like I was overbearing or overprotective of them. Especially after knowing some of the horrible things they endured.

My hand gently rested on their head and I make a "shh" sound in a soft tone.

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Post by Lady Senbonzakura on Mon Dec 31, 2018 7:18 pm

At first, Aquila was frozen in place, and couldn't muster the energy to move. They accepted the embrace, leaning into Sariel's chest, subconsciously worried about putting too much pressure on her stomach. After a few minutes, they summoned enough courage to lift their arms, and hug back.

"I-" they tried to steady their breathing, but it shook in their lungs anyway, "I-I'm sorry."
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Post by Sal on Mon Dec 31, 2018 7:21 pm

{ Sariel }

"You have no reason to apologize, Aquila," I coo, gently rubbing down their hair, "Take as long as you need, okay, dear?"

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Post by Lady Senbonzakura on Mon Dec 31, 2018 8:39 pm

Aquila nodded in answer, pressing their eyelids against Sariel's shoulder. Though she spoke with the clear intent of being reassuring, it just made them sob harder.

Minutes went by, and slowly but surely, Aquila's eyes began to dry, and their breathing began to steady. Finally, they let out a long sigh, before pulling back to face her once more. They didn't step away from her arms, but they did wipe away the wet from their face on their sleeve.

They frowned, and tilted their head slightly, "Oh dear," they sniffed a quick breath in through their nose, before motioning to her shoulder, "I hast gone and ruined thy...'blouse,' is it?"
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Post by Sal on Mon Dec 31, 2018 9:29 pm

{ Sariel }

A lighthearted chuckle escaped between my lips. I was pleased they were now calming down, "No, no. I have many more to choose from either way."

I pause for a moment before going on again, "How are you feeling now, dear?"


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Post by Lady Senbonzakura on Mon Dec 31, 2018 9:53 pm

It was a good question, and it forced Aquila to think. They had cried out all their sorrow for the moment; they knew it would return soon enough, but for now, something else would have to take its place.

"I feel...better."
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Post by zenmetsu on Thu Jan 03, 2019 6:15 pm

chou

The plains of Balum roll out before them in swathes, wreathed in a gauze of morning fog.

“Safe travels,” Chou says.

Ena looks to her, with the full intensity of her gaze that Chou knows betray only her fire, and none of the forest growing inside of her. “I wish,” Ena starts, and then pauses, hesitates. She is, Chou remembers, a travelling scholar, researching the culture of the rural villages in Balum. She has lived in Chou’s home, the inn, for weeks. Yesterday, Ena tucked a lock of Chou’s hair behind her ear and given her a smile that made Chou’s heart ache. She is a traveller, Chou reminds herself fiercely, not for the first time. Not a friend, not anything more, not someone meant to stay.

Chou silences her with a hand on her shoulder. Ena’s eyes turn a little regretful, from inferno to flickering flame. Vaguely, Chou remembers a fleeting conversation they had at night, when neither of them could sleep, and curled up by the one glass window together, peering out into the deep night, the fields blue with moonlight. “Haven’t you ever wanted to leave?” Ena had asked. “I could …”

“No,” Chou says, before Ena could finish an offer she had heard from others before. Her answer was not a truth, but it was not a lie, either.

“I wish I could do something for you,” Ena says.

Then stay, Chou thinks, but doesn’t say, because Ena is someone grand. Ena knows how to read and write and knows about poetry and civilizations from years ago. Ena is not someone to be trapped in this place, in Chou’s home, a beautiful seclusion, a gorgeous cage. She is someone meant to be someone more than that.

Chou is an innkeeper, guarding the weary who come to stay in her home, in a village slowly dying as the elderly continually close their eyes and never awaken again, and the youths leave and leave to find opportunities better than herding sheep. Everyone here is leaving. Just like the travellers. Just like Ena. Not like Chou. Never like Chou.

“Write me, sometime,” Chou says finally, and smiles. “And if you ever come back, visit me.”

“Of course,” Ena says. She hesitates. She takes Chou’s hand from her shoulder and holds it. “I’ll miss you,” she says, awkwardly.

Chou laughs. She doesn’t understand the prick of tears in her eyes. It should be easy to say goodbye, now, but it never is. She is not ready to give away Ena and her voice raspy in the morning and her fantastical thoughts and her quoting of people Chou has never heard of. She is not ready to lose someone again, not when there aren’t many people left in her life already.

“I’ll miss you, too,” Chou says, voice steady, and slips her fingers from Ena’s grasp. “Until we meet again, Ena.”

“Until we meet again,” Ena echoes, and her mule huffs. Chou takes that as a cue to leave, and gives her a brief smile, and returns to the inn. There, she curls up by the one window in the inn to watch Ena mount her mule and depart, to bigger and better things, things more exciting than some uneducated girl stuck in a hopeless place.

It is only when Ena’s silhouette dissipates in the fog that Chou allows herself to cry.
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Post by Comrade Squid on Sat Jan 05, 2019 8:09 pm

"This is true..." Lucifer mused, turning away from Delilah as he rubbed his chin in thought. It didn't take long for a solution to come to him. He smiled, but it wasn't pleasant- it was a crafty, devilish, wickedly satisfied smile.

"You can tell them the truth," he declared, turning back to Delilah, "or at least part of it. Tell them that you are my bonded, and that you've defected and want to share vital information to them. They won't trust you at all, but you'll be able to discover the essential information. Their greed for juicy secrets may allow you to come away with more in-depth intel... and if they discover your true allegiance, it won't be until we're already at the gates."

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Post by ghoulerie on Sun Jan 06, 2019 9:58 pm

Sathariel

Sathariel was surprised the building was still standing.

From what she could tell, no one had stepped foot in this place in years. Moss and mold clung freely to what was left of the walls and furniture, and spread along the ceiling ran gaping holes, the wood jagged and sharp from where the roof had begun to cave in in places. Patches of grass had begun to spring up on the dirt floors; Sathariel supposed these spots were where the light was able to filter in from above. She cast a weary glance skyward. There was no sunshine to be found today; the sky was swathed in a dark gray, the clouds heavy with rain.

A sharp gust of wind surged through the building, rattling the walls and sending a chill through Sathariel's bones. She tugged her thin cloak tight around her shoulders, teeth clenched to keep from chattering, and hurried toward the narrow staircase, pausing as her boots reached the edge of the top. She eyed the aged wood suspiciously, bringing a tentative step down on the first plank. It groaned heavily under her weight, but seemed sturdy enough despite.

She pressed her lips into a thin line. Nothing about this encounter screamed anything other than 'DANGER', and yet here she stood, fighting against every base instinct in her body to turn tail and leave immediately. Sathariel supposed her safety should matter more to her, but how could she bring herself to care? She had nothing left to lose.

Taking a hold of the railing, she descended into the basement, moving slowly and quietly, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light. She could make out a figure in the dark, standing with their back to her. As she neared the bottom, she could make out a table and chairs overturned, and books strewn haphazardly across the room. Signs of a struggle. Dread lodged in her throat as her feet settled at the bottom of the staircase; there was a third person in the basement.

Tossed to the floor, limp and broken as a rag doll.

Sathariel didn't breathe. As if in a trance, she reached for a chair tossed against the wall near her, and brought it down hard on the killer's head.
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