June 2024's Writer Support Thread

batmansrobin · 2024-06-14T18:00:53.479Z

Yeah, fair. Being a series definitely grants a lot of leeway for everyone ending in the same spot, but the point is that it can work if the journey is immersive enough and your game can still be beloved. Fallen Hero Rebirth I actually thought ended there entirely until I learned much much later that a sequel was being written.

Sailingshells · 2024-06-14T20:55:22.579Z

Happy to report I’ve got my game’s chapter 10 prepped & ready for alpha tomorrow! There was a lot of RO interaction in this one and it’s funny to see how far the romances have come from what I originally envisioned. I thought it’d be a simple case of 1 slowburn, 1 fastburn, and 1 mediumburn. Now it’s 1 slowburn that somehow manages to progress the furthest in some areas, 1 fastburn with the least amount of emotional attachment because… the character is a normal well-adjusted person? or has commitment issues? I mean, it’s a little of both plus a whole third other thing. And 1 where there’s much more emotional investment than I expected, and much less physical connection than I expected.

These characters have minds of their own, as always, and I’m just here for the ride

Dvalor53 · 2024-06-15T10:39:50.532Z

I’ve done very little in the realm of writing recently and my mind has been jumping between different projects. I have started to work on another story in my super hero setting following a new protagonist. I wrote the opening a few weeks ago and haven’t returned to it.

Okay. Let’s get this sharing started. It is the 15th. There is some code but I am trying out leaving notes and not formatting everything right away until code is being implemented.

Carousel Paradox Chapter 1

I hate this.

Looking around at the boxes scattered about what is left of my room brings back the anguish of the circumstances that I find myself in. There are several items that still need to be put away and the only thing I find myself wanting to do is burn everything down.

That is a bit extreme.

How about I chain myself to my bed in protest and refuse to eat to make a statement. I'm sure that will get the message across. Unfortunately, my bed has already been taken apart and relocated to the garage until the truck finally arrives. I guess I'll need to settle for giving up on the notion of protest for the moment, mom and dad already know that I don't want to move.

I place an empty box on my desk before wrapping my items in old newspapers and placing them in the box. An item of importance catches my eye.

*choice
Str, Reflex, Stam #A trophy I got from my High School wrestling team.
	The trophy I have gotten when I took second place in a wrestling tournament that happened last school year. Now it is just a reminder of yesteryear.
Str, Tough, Speed #A pair of gloves I got when I tried out boxing.
	I picked up a pair of my boxing gloves that I received back when dad indulged me in the sport. The lessons did not last long enough for me to pick up how to fight, but I have kept the fitness route up. Now it will be only a memory of what I am leaving behind.
Toughness, speed, acuity #A football from a game winning pass I threw.
	I pick up the football and it brings a smile to my face. I still remember that night that I threw the winning pass like it was last night. I can only hope that the new school I am going to also has a football team.

	I frown at the thought of no longer being on the same team and being a stranger in a new school.
Reflex, Stamina, strength #My handgrips from the first gymnastics class.
	I pick up the handgrips that I got when I started taking gymnastics. Dad was very supportive of me taking up the activity. While I still have a lot to learn and practice, I continue to improve.

	A frown forms on my face as I think about never entering that gym again.
Speed, Stamina #My running shoes for the track team.
	I pick up my pair of running shoes and let out a sigh of contempt. Sadness grips me as I think about needing to start over.
Speed, Acuity, reflex #My softball mitt.
	I pick up my mitt and slide it onto my hand before giving it two punches to help break it in that little bit more. It was not that long ago that I got the new mitt after making the school's softball team. Now all of that effort was gone.
Acuity, Stamina, speed #My basketball shoes.
	I lift the pair of gym shoes from my table. I had taken the time to make sure they were clean not that long ago. Now all of that effort I put into making the team has gone to waste.
Stamina, Speed, Acuity #My pair of soccer cleats.
	I pick up my cleats that I had placed on my desk in frustration last night. After all the time that I put into getting onto a local team to be tossed aside.
Stamina, Acuity #A pair of drumsticks.
	I pick up the sticks and remember my time in band. Normally when I pick these sticks up magic happens, and I can feel a rhythm. However, there is no rhythm for me today.
Stamina, Reflex #A nametag from a dance competition.
	I see the framed nametag from a dance competition that I entered a few months ago. The competition was fierce, and my small group did not even take the top three, but it was a lot of fun. Mom had thought to frame the tag as a memory of the beginning of my dancing carrier.

	I sigh at the thought of leaving that all behind.
Stamina, Strength #My goggles I use when swimming.
	I pick up the pair of goggles and frown at the thought that I am no longer on the swim team at my school. Before I could enter my first race on the team, it has now ended.
Strength, toughness #A five-pound weight.
	I look at the little weight that I lift sometimes as I work on homework or when in thought. The motion will often put my mind at ease. I lift bigger weights often at school. A school that I'll not be retuning to.
I gently wrap it before placing it in the box adjacent to me.

"Honey," my mom calls out to me from down the stairwell, "I'm home!"

I let out a sigh and raise from the box I plopped down on before proceeding to the top of the stairs. As quickly as my mood is spiraling, I do not have the energy to do a yelling contest with my mother. Mom looks at me with confusion as it is clear that I am not my father.

"He's outside waiting for the truck to arrive," I explain and watch as the confusion shifts to one of understanding.

"For once he is ahead of me," she says back with a forced chuckle. "Have you seen Paris?"

*choice
#Paris is my older sister.
#Paris is our dog.
#Paris is my mom's best friend.

*label Sister
"I think said that she was gathering the boxes out of the garage," my memory on the last thing Paris said to me is hazy.

"Ever the responsible one," mom says with a smile.
*goto Oliver
*label Dog
"I'm sure he is with dad," I respond with a shrug. I haven't seen the hound in a few hours.

"She is quite protective, so that would make sense," mom says to herself with a firm nod.
*goto Oliver
*label Friend
"The last time I saw her she was carrying boxes up from the basement," I recall but it has been an hour since I last seen mom's best friend.

"I'm sure I'll find her somewhere," mom responds before chuckling.
*label Oliver
"And what about Oliver?"

*choice
#Oliver is my younger brother.
#Oliver is our cat.
#Oliver is my mom's brother.

*label Brother
"I haven't seen him for a few hours," I say with a shrug, "I'm sure he is avoiding packing in some corner of the house."

"I'll get his lazy ass moving," mom shakes her head.
*goto Continue1
*label Cat
"Probably hiding somewhere, you know how he gets when we move furniture," I shrug.

"You have a good point, he's probably hiding in some corner," mom responds and starts to look around.
*goto Continue1
*label Uncle
"Uncle Oliver?" I take a moment to think, "I can't say I have seen him most of the day."

"Probably sleeping in some corner to come out later and act like he's been busy all day," mom says with a headshake and a quirked smile.
*label Continue1
"Are you doing alright, hon'?"

I reply with a shrug, and I can see the pain in my mother's face at the reaction.

"Don't worry," she puts on a forced smile, "you'll get through this. Things will get better."

"It is like a part of me has died. I just feel like I'm starting all over again and that my life is on repeat," I say and lean on the railing, "I guess that just brings dread."

"Dread is a bit dramatic, kid," mom smirks up at me. "I know the move is rough, but your father's job will be good for us and in it's way, so will the move, even if you cannot see it yet."

"I've heard that before," I roll my eyes without thinking about it.

"You know it is easy to miss the bigger picture when you are focused on the smaller concerns. Sometimes what seems like the larger concern is actually the smaller one in the grand scheme of things," her face becomes that of compassion. "I know we are asking a lot of you, but the only one that can figure this out it's you. Everyone else will be here to support you."

"Yeah I know," I say as I search for the proper words to say. "Perhaps it would be easier to just skip to after the move. You know just a year in the future, have this all over with."

"I'd love that, let us be settled and living in our new home, but then we would miss all of the amazing adventure on the way to that time."

"Thanks mom."

LiliArch · 2024-06-15T10:52:53.689Z

Here’s mine, the newest one from my stack of note-to-self -scenes.

Context: the MC is a vigilante, Afterthought is a supervillain (well, superthief in any event, that makes them officially a villain) working with them (and also they knew each other as kids).

You’re the first one to arrive at the meeting spot, even after triple-checking the perimeter, so you settle in to wait at the edge of the roof, keeping an eye on your surroundings. Around you, the skyfront is silent in the night: warehouses and hangars spread as far as the eye can see, crisscrossed by docks the treasureflame lamps can barely illuminate. The flimsy scaffolding piers reach high from the shadows, berthing rows upon rows of giant zeppelins, the airships’ rubbery skins pale in the dark while they float silently in formation like a flock of migrating whales.

“What did you want to talk about?” says a voice behind you.

You spin around. Afterthought is there, perched on the guardrail at the edge of the stairway roof like some kind of a peculiar bird. He gives you a look, head tilted, as if he’s been there all this time just waiting for you to notice him, which you know to be untrue but you also have no idea how long he has been there.

How on Earth did he manage to get a drop on you? Again? You were trained by Local, for crying out loud. Nobody should be able to get a drop on you, or nobody who can’t fly at least. Especially nobody you were expecting. Except, possibly, Local himself. Possibly. Maybe.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about what’s happening,” you say.

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific,” Afterthought says, voice slightly muffled and with a metallic tinge in it thanks to the respirator covering the lower half of his face, but it’s not enough to hide the deadpan delivery of the words. “Always plenty of things going on in a city this size, Whiskers. If I’ll tell you everything I know we’ll be here till the next century. And then it’s not something that’s happening anymore, I’d wager.”

Eiwynn · 2024-06-15T11:53:14.810Z

Happy May 15th everyone!

For this month’s excerpt, I am going to share the alternative opening of Patchwerks: River Styx (part two of Patchwerks).

Which opening you get depends on where you choose to stay in part one.

06/15/24 Snippet

“Tsk.” Rif executes a half bow, half shrug while hefting the chest towards the wall that Rif is pointing at with her chin. “Your wish is my command, sister dearest.”

“Here, $!{name}.” Raf carefully lets her side of the chest down, then fishes for a key in her pocket. “Open your chest, so we can verify everything and then get going.”

“Heh.” Nonchalantly, you bend down to slide the key into the lock and undo the clasp holding the lid shut. “Rif… Raf… Wha —?”

A pallid face of a corpse is staring up at you from inside the trunk. The petite woman had attempted to claw her way out of the chest, but the solid lid barely shows the scratches made by the broken nails on her hands. The woman must have been in the chest a long time undisturbed because she has mummified.

“$!{name}…” Rif places a hand on your shoulder and pivots you away from staring at the corpse and towards your bed. “Why don’t you come over here for now?”

“Damn, Rif.” Raf brushes her palms together before waving her hands at the now half-opened chest and glaring at her brother. “I thought you double checked …”

“Bah!” Rif removes his hand from your shoulder and places it and his other hand on his hips while leaning towards Raf. “You’re the one who got the chest out of storage.”

“Ugh!” Raf breaks eye contact with Rif and looks down at the chest. “We’ll get her to the Parlor House, get your clothes and other items as soon as we can, $!{name}.”

“Wh —?” Your eyes remain unfocused and your thoughts are still scattered. You have been carrying a dead woman all morning through the Under City. “who is she?”

“Er.” Raf shuffles over to the bed and nudges Rif to the side, so she can sit on the mattress by your side. Sympathetically, she pats your knee. “Just a forgotten girl.”

“Yea.” Rif pivots to your other side and sits on the bed as well. Leaning back on his elbows, Rif shakes his head. “She died trying smuggle herself into the Under City.”

“Alright…” You acknowledge what the twins say, but you still do not see why Dove would have a dead woman in her storage. “But … why did Dove have her?”

“Dove wants to…” Raf stares at you and a hitch forms in her voice as she attempts to answer your question. “Well, Dove wants to try to find the forgotten girl’s family someday.”

How do you feel about this?

*choice
#Nobody will miss her. What is one dead woman, more or less?

 *set merciful %- 10
        *gosub_scene dock_arc_1_and_2_shared shared_8

Death has grown to be a familiar companion to the people living in the Under City, and to protect themselves from the constant pain and distress of loosing loved ones, people here no longer make the deep connections they once did in the Forbidden City or even the Upper City. Is such denial a blessing for those so familiar with death, or is it a tragic mistake that familiarity has created such numbness among the population in the Under City?

How can you miss a person you hardly know?

Today, my pre-beta testing officially ends. Now I start working with the feeedback I have received.

I hope everyone has a good weekend. For those in the US, remember June 19th is a Federal holiday.

.

apple · 2024-06-15T12:14:35.250Z

How have a been a day off all week. I could’ve sworn yesterday was the 15th

Dating crisis aside, KoV proceeds… not as well as I’d hope, I’ve been a bit busy IRL. I have gotten work done, just not as much as I’d hope. One of these days I’ll be a consistent writer lol. Been debating pushing a smaller update, so as to reduce the gap between new content. Might be too piecemeal though.

JBento · 2024-06-15T12:29:27.667Z

Eiwynn:

Today, my pre-beta testing officially ends.

WIP thread approaching?!

patching Patchwerks

Eiwynn:

Rif… Raf…

lol, riffraff.

Eiwynn:

“who is she?”

Uncapitalised.

Eiwynn:

“She died trying smuggle herself into the Under City.”

“Under City” sorta sounds like the sort of place you want to smuggle yourself OUT OF, not into.

Eiwynn:

“But … why did Dove have her?”

Oh, I’m sorry, do I criticise YOUR taste in decor?

Eiwynn:

the Under City, and to protect themselves

Could use a comma after “and”.

Eiwynn:

loosing

“losing”

Eiwynn:

How can you miss a person you hardly know?

By aiming poorly, obviously!

apple:

One of these days I’ll be a consistent writer lol.

You’re a consistently good writer (its/it’s aside ), does that count?

apple:

Been debating pushing a smaller update, so as to reduce the gap between new content. Might be too piecemeal though

Obviously you’re the only one that can decide how much content is enough content for an update, but I’d like to remind you that, due to how the engine works, an update will bump ongoing playthroughs to the start of their current chapter. Which is why my personal preference is for WIPs to get updated only with fixes for gamebreaking stuff (duh), full chapters, or ones that due to variables getting added/modified require a new playthrough anyway.

ChanceOfFire · 2024-06-15T13:23:17.171Z

Currently helping to perform some non-professional line-editing for another project over the weekend.

Line-editing my own work is excruciating (but necessary), although line-editing someone else’s work for the first time is fairly entertaining since I get to read an entertaining story and see the consequences of all choices without actually having to make them.

JBento · 2024-06-15T13:28:04.988Z

Some stuff

You appear to have the main text mostly in the third person, but you have some bits (without quotation marks) in the first person.

Uncapitalised. Also, “bony”. “bonny” is scottish slang for “attractive”

poison_mara:

your bonny

“your keen sight notices”, maybe? Either that or something else, but you’re missing a main verb for the second part of the sentence (the one that starts after “until”).

poison_mara:

your keen sight how Sab’s

Something wrong or missing from this sentence:

poison_mara:

You frown until the perspective.

LiliArch · 2024-06-15T13:52:56.961Z

JBento:

“bonny” is scottish slang for “attractive”

I was going to say isn’t it also some kind of hat, but that was bonnet.

JBento · 2024-06-15T14:06:27.450Z

It can be a bonny bonnet, if you’d like. With a bee.

LiliArch · 2024-06-15T14:26:58.768Z

I mean, I’d totally call it bonni if it was a word I’d use with any regularity, but I do come from a dialect family that shortens everything that can be shortened and half of what can’t.

izzily · 2024-06-15T15:33:10.320Z

I forgot about excerpts!

I kinda did one yesterday in my WIP thread already so I’m gonna go rogue and do it again.

Directly after fighting a bunch of superheroes, MC comes back to the safehouse and decides to call the one normie dude they know.

Dime, why are you calling the civillian. Dime. What are you doing.

Hesitation. Confiding any of this to Alistair crosses the line from foolish into out and out insane.

                        If you speak to him, it has to be in the vaguest of terms, stripped bare of almost all detail. Would such a neutered conversation get any of this off your chest?
                        *choice
                            #It might.
                                Only one way to find out.

                            #Probably not.
                                But your phone is already in your hand.

                        You hit call. You get an answer on the fourth ring.

                        "'lo?" says a bleary voice.

                        *if expressive > 65
                            "Hey man. I know this is a little out of the blue, but it's @{aliname $!{aka2}. You know, |}your friend from the shipping container."

                        *else
                            "Um, is this Alistair?"

                            "Speaking, yeah," he murmurs, sounding half asleep.

                            "It's @{@{aliname $!{aka2}. You know, |}your friend from the shipping container."

                        There's a pause. "For real?" @{(expressive > 65) He sounds marginally more awake.|}

                        "Yeah. @{expressive > 65) Hope I'm not interrupting anything."|Sorry for calling so randomly."}

                        @{(expressive > 65) "Other than my sleep? Naw, nothing."|"All good. Often call folks in the middle of the night?"}

                        Ohhh shit.

                        You kinda didn't think of that.
                        *choice
                            #"Sorry, I kinda didn't think of that."

LiliArch · 2024-06-15T15:37:05.409Z

I find it kinda amusing how many of our excerpts are from superhero genre

izzily · 2024-06-15T15:43:32.283Z

I like superpowers I guess! I know it’s a crowded genre on here, but if I was gonna do a big project, I wanted to be passionate about it.

HarrisPS · 2024-06-15T15:54:35.498Z

Here’s a mid-month excerpt from Honor Bound Chapter 7 that includes some student gossip:

tumblr_42d6a58b049695f991af1ede672483f2_0511ed74_1280726×658 175 KB

This week I’ve been making really good progress on Chapter 11 - I’m around halfway done which feels great. I’ve also had some very helpful feedback about the pacing of Chapter 7 and giving some conversation scenes extra breathing room - I’m not sure whether I’ll have implemented it by the time I put it up publicly, but it’s firmly on my to-do list. It’s the kind of feedback that fresh eyes see much more than I do when I’ve just written seven conversations and am eager to be done, and I know when I come back to it refreshed, I’ll be better at giving that space for moments of connection.

Cecilia_Rosewood · 2024-06-15T15:58:26.377Z

Not really an excerpt or snippet, but my fill for the previous assignment for the IF writing group on Discord.

The challenge was to write a scene without sight.

Stroll 3

You briefly lose your footing when the solid crust at the edge of the marsh gives way under your feet, but the splash of your knees hitting the water is drowned out by the rain pouring down around you. It’s the whole reason you chose this night in the first place. With the combination of a new moon and a rainstorm you can’t see a thing, but, more importantly, the border guards can’t either.

Gliding your hand across the coarse material of the belt around the waist of your wetsuit, you check if everything you fixed to it to help with your crossing is still accounted for. Compass. Thermos with hot coffee. Combat knife. Some small personal belongings you didn’t want to leave behind. And, of course, your USB drives filled to the brim with your notes and pictures of all kinds of classified military operations.

For now only the compass is of use, so you take it in hand, hold it level even in the downpour, and seek out the side of the needle pointing north by the ridge on the upward facing side. Your fingers are growing numb from the cold, so you press down on the ridge to make sure it’s the right side of the needle, and then turn until it’s facing your left.

Your feet drag through the mud and murky water that slowly rises up to about waist height while the wetsuit presses in against your skin more and more. It would smell like rot and decay on any other day, but the rain stops the scent before it can get into your nose, even though you are somehow still able to taste it on the back of your tongue.

There are some sharp pieces of wood, well, it might be bones. It’s not unusual for something to get lost in these marshes, that you only notice the moment your hand brushes against them at best or when it jabs into your side despite the protection of the wetsuit at worse, that you have to work your way around from time to time, but for the most part the trip is pretty straightforward. Walk. Check your heading on the compass. Adjust if necessary. Walk again.

At some point, in this darkness you can’t tell if hours have passed or only a couple of minutes, your hands begin to go numb and shaky from the cold, so you snap the metal plate in a hand warmer and hold that while you walk until you can feel the ridge on the needle of your compass again.

You take a coffee break at some point, though you wish you brought a watch of some sort, because now it’s impossible to tell how long you still have to go without the comfortable weight of a canister of a hot drink at your side.

The rain doesn’t really register anymore, and neither do the sharp branches you occasionally run into. It’s all been relegated to the back of your mind while you focus on keeping yourself moving, one step after the other. You know your wetsuit hasn’t grown heavier since you stepped into the marsh, but that is not what it feels like, and each new step drags more on you than the last.

You don’t know how long you have been walking by the time you first register a change in your surroundings. The water, which was at waist height for most of the trip, has gone down to about halfway up your thigh. Or rather, the floor of the marsh has risen up. You try not to get your hopes up just yet, especially since the lower water level also means more of you is cooling down from the rain that’s still pouring down around you.

Then you, finally, hit an edge of solid ground and you clamber up it before flopping down on your belly, savoring the feeling of coarse grass under your hands. This close to the ground you can smell the scent of rot and decay you’d managed to avoid this far, and your nose crinkles as you hoist yourself back to your feet.

Now that you’re on dry, well, drier, land a new annoyance makes itself known. There are things wedged between your toes in your water shoes that grate against them on every step. You consider stopping to empty them, but you’re still too close to the border for your liking, and without something to lean against you might lose your balance and step into something worse.

You ignore it and the way the suit manages to cling and chafe against all new spots, and turn your mind back to the same focus that got you through the marsh. One step. Another step. And somehow, at some point, you will get to where you need to go. You only need to keep walking until then.

LiliArch · 2024-06-15T15:58:48.003Z

I mean, I’m not complaining! I’m definitely in the same boat.

Samuel_H_Young · 2024-06-15T16:32:25.829Z

Samuel_H_Young:

My goal for June is to write 15k words of Meteoric, and put out Chapter Three on the demo.

I put Chapter Three on the beta today. The plot escalates and you play your first show at a bar with a possessed microphone

bucketfulofsunshine · 2024-06-15T17:19:14.609Z

I’m checking back in (with a brief snippet) after lurking for a bit. I’m making slow but steady progress on my end.

Some quick context before I throw everyone into the deep end.

The MC has to choose how they want to approach the task of finding True Love - while the first two options circle back to a ‘choicehub’ eventually, the last ones offer different paths (and chapters). But, essentially, the player is choosing between the game being a battle royale or a dating sim here.

*choice
    #While the curse stipulated that  true love can break your condition, it never specified it had to be of the romantic variety. Perhaps your familiar’s devotion will meet the requirements?
    “${familiarname} you love me unconditionally, don’t you?” 
    @{familiar Your cat cocks his head to the side and gives you a thoroughly unimpressed look. | Your raven roosts upon your shoulder, ruffling her feathers before letting out a low, mournful caw. | Your rat seems little concerned with your travails. It scurries along the ground, sniffing loudly before displaying their spoils. A…truffle? The treat is viciously devoured. } 
    *set familiardevotion %-5
    *goto gettingtoofamiliar

    #You are pure magic! A magnificent being without equal. Someone like yourself shouldn’t require the love of another. The high-esteem you hold for yourself will overcome any curse.
    Could the solution be this simple? You consider all that you have accomplished. Once you were a mere orphan struggling to survive upon the streets - yet you overcame all limits imposed upon you. Mere hours ago you held the city’s fate within your palms. You *will* your powers to return. 
    *set narcissism %+5
    *goto okaynarcissus

    #Old magic is rife with laws. If you can discover the source of your curse you may find a means to circumvent it.
    Few mages possess the talent required to access ancient magicks. Fewer still have the means of intricately wording and casting a curse of this magnitude. If your curse is anchored to its caster then their disappearance might break it entirely. 
    Though you have other - more benevolent - solutions. The curse's phrasing remains vague. The wording unclear enough to, perhaps, meet its requirements without following them to the letter. It would require access to ancient tomes of the Fae variety. 
    Regardless, your path leads towards the market.  
    *set practical %+5
    *goto deathandtaxes

    #You (begrudgingly) accept your fate. 
    There is nothing else for it. You will find true love or die in the attempt. Literally. 
    Every spell starts with a single component. A word, a gesture, a wish. The intricacies of friendships and romance follow similar rules. To understand someone - to love them - you have to first know them. Asking someone on a date is well within your means. 
    …At least once you find someone suitable. 
    *set acceptance %+5
    *goto fantasytinder

Good luck with your writing everyone! I’ll continue to binge-read any snippets thrown up here.