Anonymous asked:
Happy STS from writingamongthecoloredroses! What would a modern/no magic AU of your WIP be like?
Thanks for the ask!
It would end up looking like a third person POV Hunger Games with a World War vibe check to the face.
Hey you! Happy Storyteller Saturday! If your character was an Animal Crossing/Video Game NPC, what item would players give them to befriend them?
Thanks for the ask!
Lerki would like lots of wild mushrooms. Any kind is fine.
Tundra requires a large punching bag and a snickers bar.
Seth needs fabric. At least two yards of every colour.
Inari a fan and eye makeup.
Zercey books and a cast iron skillet.
Scyanatha wants jewellery or black leather - unless you have something darker, then she'll have that.
Nyima, while not mine exclusively, I can see being won with cured meat, pickles and nice underwear.
Abaddon wants blankets. All of them. And some wire for crafting.
Finally, you can't deny that Vyxen would be your best friend forever if you kept her stocked with candy and pet food. Downside is you have to keep giving her shipments - she milking this for all its worth.
illthdar reblogged
Six Sentence Sunday
Here is an excerpt from Chapter 1 of my wip Kerridon
The industrial part of Kerridon, affectionately named the slums, was a distract overtaken by factories. The air here was always grey and so too was everything else, even the people. Raggers, that’s what the dwellers of the slums were called. Most of them were bent in the back from 16 hours days, with missing teeth and protruding bones. The factories didn’t pay well, but it was the only option they had. Raggers weren’t permitted in the wealthier districts of the city, the prims and poseys didn’t like the look of them.
illthdar reblogged
The city of Kerridon is the shimmering jewel at the crown of the industrial revolution. It’s home to the greatest creators, alchemists and inventors of the age, a place where dreams become reality. As long as you stay in the wealthier district, anyways. Beneath the city’s mask of luxury and opportunity, corruption is festering. Kerridon has become a breeding ground for the booming slave trade market, a business that is kept alive and lucrative by the rich and influential. With things slowly spiraling out of control, a new group of vigilante have sprung up in an attempt to fight back. Whether or not they will succeed remains to be seen, but they’ve certainly given the city something to talk about.
Kerridon is currently a fanwork of the Illthdar: Guardians of Las series written by Rachel Garcia. ( @illthdar ) It’s set in an steampunk-inspired alternate reality where anything that can go wrong, has gone wrong.
More information and tidbits coming soon!
illthdar reblogged
Last Line Tag
Tagged by the lovely @angelolytle !! Thank you!!
Latest line from the next chapter of Kerridon,
Toshiiro gritted his teeth, hands gripping the edges of the table he was face down on. “Fuck,”
“I haven’t even touched you yet,” Raemina’s amused voice sounded from somewhere above him, where she presumably looking over the damage done to his back appliance. Toshiiro didn’t care, he just wanted this done and with the least amount of pain possible.
Needs polishing, but at least the chapter is finally in the works!
I tag @mvcreates, @illthdar, @silver-wields-a-pen, @authorified, @cadewrites and @ren-c-leyn
illthdar reblogged
The city of Kerridon is the shimmering jewel at the crown of the industrial revolution. It’s home to the greatest creators, alchemists and inventors of the age, a place where dreams become reality. As long as you stay in the wealthier district, anyways. Beneath the city’s mask of luxury and opportunity, corruption is festering. Kerridon has become a breeding ground for the booming slave trade market, a business that is kept alive and lucrative by the rich and influential. With things slowly spiraling out of control, a shadowy group code-named Argus is working to stem the vile transactions and stomp the evil out at it’s core.
Wrought with corruption at every level, Kerridon is highly dependent on a class system where people are divided by wealth. As is with most class systems, the poorer you are, the more expendable you become.
High Class (Prims): Rich beyond reason, this is the class that holds all the power. People born into wealth have all the amenities and conveniences: money, food, medical care, access to abortions and contraceptives, entertainment, luxury homes and dazzling fashions. Corrupt at almost every level and dependent on a class system amongst themselves where the richer you, the better you are, this district is ground zero for the slave trade and trafficking operations. Population Restrictions: None
Middle Class (Posies): Living with some wealth, this class has access to minor amenities and conveniences, decent mounts of food and medical assistance, abortion and contraceptives available but expensive, some entertainment and reasonable taxes. The middle class always has their eye on the Prims, mimicking their speech, fashions and interests whenever possible. Acquiring enough wealth to move to the elite district and gain a good marriage is the top priority for the vast majority of people within this class. This class is highly susceptible to bribes, often giving up their friends and neighbors in exchange for money or titles. There is no loyalty here. Population Restriction: Two children per family, any babies born beyond this are taken to orphanages.
Low Class (Raggers): In the slums you are nothing and you get nothing. Generally seen as being lower than animals, the upper classes are convinced that if the poor would stop being lazy and work hard enough, they could better their circumstances. For this reason, doctors are forbidden to work on low class citizens, their taxes are high and many conveniences are banned to them. These laws are supposed to encourage the raggers to better themselves, but in actuality were designed to keep them poor and therefore easy to prey on. Low class workers are paid very low wages for their labor, making the slums a prime area for factories, run by the elite and placed there for cheap labor. People go missing here frequently, but no one asks questions. Population Restrictions: Two children per family, any babies born beyond that are allegedly taken to orphanages. Offending parents are severely punished.
Argus: A shadowy group of troublemakers, jail breakers, thieves and havoc causers who’s core purpose and member list are unknown.
Huzzzah!!! Finally got some WIP details up and running. Kerridon is currently a fanwork of the Illthdar series written by Rachel Garcia. It’s set in an steampunk-inspired alternate reality where anything that can go wrong, has gone wrong.
More world building and character lists coming soon!!
illthdar reblogged
Star cats: A Guardians of Las short
“We should have gone left at that last black hole!”
“You can’t even tell left from right! What kind of navigator can’t tell left from right?!”
Hecate rolled her golden eyes and ignored D'nag bickering with himself. She checked the readings on the monitor in front of her and said to Rhys, “The planet coming up has a breathable atmosphere. We should land and make repairs.”
Captain Rhys snorted. “Who put you in charge?”
“I’m the science officer,” the female trekadisk replied. “If you will not listen to my advice then why am I here?”
“Your pretty face brightens up the place,” he smirked back.
The eye in the middle of Hecate’s forehead opened partway, but then shuttered. “Well, the place will be a lot less bright; I’m going to get lunch.”
“Bring me a cup of tea,” D'nag said, breaking from his argument with himself. “Why do you need tea?” he countered in a different pitch.
“Because you never save me any!”
“We share a stomach!”
“We don’t share tastebuds.”
“Sucks to be you.” The deeper voice snickered.
“Yes, it does,” the lighter replied, sighing.
Hecate left before she got a headache. She took the lift, but didn’t get out on the floor where the mess hall was. Instead, she went to engineering. If Rhys would not listen to her advice, she’d make him listen. Their ship was damaged in a firefight and they couldn’t carry on at their current pace; something would break and their whole species would die as a result! No, the best thing to do was land on that planet she’d seen.
~*~*~
Hecate woke slowly and looked about. The ship crash landed on the planet; who knew how many of her kind had survived the impact. “Rhys? D'nag?” She looked about and saw them nearby, unharmed.
“Well done, Hecate,” Rhys clapped his paws together slowly. “Do you wanna know why I didn’t want to land here, Ms Science Officer? Because it’s inhabited with idiots.” He pointed to where a humanoid was playing with a fluffy thing with a flaming tail. She was cooing at it and saying how clever it was for bringing her grass. “Now we’re going to have to try to fit in with the locals while we repair the ship.”
This is just as hysterical now as when I first read it.
illthdar reblogged
Kerridon: City of Dreams
This is a micro prompt I wrote featuring Ghenha. Canonically, she’s a foul-mouthed dwarf who lives in Illthdar. For this, we turned her into a deb for @guardians-of-las-vyxen‘s spau story. The idea is that, as a dwarf, she’s “deficient”, so needs to hide that by walking on stilts. The story is a steam punk, so between the tech and the flouncy dresses she just about pulls it off. Voon is another character from Illthdar, who makes clockwork toys as a hobby. In Kerridon, he’s still good with his hands, but helps the resistance movement by crafting parts of their weapons. Sidenote: Voon has a crush on Ghenha and she’s aromantic asexual, so that’s never gonna happen.
Ghenha hurried through the foggy, cobbled streets of Kerridon, one hand clutching the hood of her cloak to stop it flying back and revealing her identity; there were plenty who would pay to learn the daughter of a high ranking merchant had such a secret.
A firm knock at the door drew Voon from his stool where he was tinkering with one of his latest designs. Reaching to hold the bell with one hand, he opened the door with the other to let his customer in. The girl was a regular, and he was always prepared when she arrived. Miss Frobedan rarely had more than a few minutes to spare before rushing off back home again, but those few minutes were precious jewels to him.
“Have you finished them?” Her voice was mellow, despite the urgency cutting her words.
“Of course,” he replied, closing the door and going to collect what she came for. He passed under the large clockworks, heading to the rear of his workshop to find the artificial legs the petite debutant needed; her mother was adamant Ghenha make a splash in society and being the correct height was part of it. “Here we are, Miss,” Voon said, returning with the legs.
Ghenha craned forward, her corset creaking against the strain, to examine Voon’s workmanship. “Bejabbers, that’s fine,” she said, her lips curling into a smile. “I’m sure my mother couldn’t object to them.” Her sudden frown made Voon tilt his head.
“Something wrong?”
“Not with the legs,” Ghenha said. “Seems wrong to trick men into thinking I’m not what I am.”
Voon gestured for the little woman to draw back her skirts so he could fit the legs, earning a dark look from her. “I need to check the fit,” he explained, as he began to strap them on. “Up you get.”
“Oh fop doodle!” she yelled, taking wobbly steps like a newborn deer. “This doesn’t feel right, gaddammit!”
“It would shock your family, Miss Frobedan, to hear your language.” Voon laughed and helped her out, then set about tweaking the workings so the legs moved more naturally. “Remember to put oil on them after every use, else you will be creaking like an old woman.”
Ghenha nodded seriously. “Thank you, Mr Chrysocolla.” She took the wrapped legs and rushed out of the door.
“You are welcome, Ghenha.”
I love Ghenha. It’s a shame Kerridon is such a fucking cesspit.