October 2023's Writer Support Thread

Here it is the 15th of the month, and I am going to share an excerpt from what I am working on, and invite you to do the same.

One thing I want to reiterate is that this tradition is one that is designed to ease a writer into sharing their work with the public, and as such, is designed to overcome shyness and imposter feelings.

Due to this, I ask that the focus be on the excerpts themselves with detailed feedback and critique offered through DMs and not through public posts in the thread.

With that being said, a friendly word should always welcome, so I do encourage posts of support!

Here is an excerpt from my Jam entry that I hope to submit this year.


“Here…” A fresh swell of relief rises in me like a tide rushing in as Keeper Jesse holds my mirror out to me. Today isn’t the day we come to blows. “Take it, before I change my mind.”

I take the personal mirror in the palm of my hand and turn it to stare at my image reflecting back at me. My @{eyecolormr magma-like red|icy pale-blue|glitter-bright silver|sunbeam gold} eyes narrow as I focus and the burnished chrome frame of the mirror starts to change. The change is subtle. A thin blade of pale yellow lances out, cutting through the darker golden muddle of the standing mirror’s light, like a knife slicing through butter.

“The connection is forming, Keeper Jesse.” There is a running joke between the Keeper and I. Every day, like clockwork, @{companion her|his|their} superiors give us permission to do what we are about to do. Every day, we refer to them as air traffic control. “Care to notify air traffic control?”

“Aye aye, mate.” The technology the Keepers use to communicate long distances may seem like magic to the uninitiated or the ignorant, but unlike magic, technology is constrained by rules instead of vision. “Done. They expect us to take off shortly.”

While the Keeper was conferring with the control tower, my portable mirror was stabilizing its contact with the standing mirror. The two mirrors are now twisted together in a magical bond that is near unbreakable.

That isn’t enough of a bond, not for the purpose Keeper Jesse and I need the two mirrors for. No, in order for us to successfully use the mirrors, there needs to be a sacrifice to be made. A sacrifice only I can make.

I find myself once again stalling …

. :revolving_hearts:


It has been several months since I have written anything new. I have been doing so much tense editing that I haven’t had time. So I’ll share something I wrote a few months ago that may or may not make it into the story as a lot of things have changed since I originally wrote it.

Normally I just share how it would be read, this time I thought I would share some of the code to see how this scene might be slightly different depending on choices.

I feel like I have shared this before, but I’m not sure if I have.


Dawn of Heroes: Chapter 24
In an instant it is almost over.

The jet fighter races past @{(BreakerSky or CamouflageSky) "us"|"me"} so close that I can taste the jet fuel burning from its exhaust. The last moment barrel roll saves @{(BreakerSky or CamouflageSky) "our"|"my"} life and leaves the fighter jet intact. The aircraft banks to pursue, and I continue as fast as I can but it does not matter, I am not faster than these jets.

Gunfire races past @{(BreakerSky or CamouflageSky) "us"|"me"} forcing me to change my trajectory.
*if (BreakerSky or CamouflageSky)

	"Hang on tight." I say to ${Name}, holding her in my arms as she wraps herself around me in kind. "Things are about to get extra windy."
I barrel roll and nearly stop my flight before pushing off in a different direction. A bullet nicks the tip of my foot just as I rocket in a direction. The bullet does not do enough damage to stop my movement, but the pain is already mounting.

*if CamouflageSky
	"This is not how I imaged joining the mile high club." Camouflage says, her voice nearly lost in the wind.

	"Really? Right now?" I respond while checking for where the fighter jet is currently located. "Can't you ever shut that side of your mind off?"

	"Sorry! Blame the adrenaline."

That is when I hear a new exhaust. I slow long enough to get a better look around. A missile races towards @{(BreakerSky or CamouflageSky) "us"|"me"}. Panic seals away the air from my chest. The banshee screeching warhead moves like an unstoppable force of nature.

*if BreakerSky and not(CamouflageSky)
	"Go go go!" Breaker yells in panic. "Fly!"

	"I know!" I yell back before taking off at a ninety-degree angle from the direction I was moving.

The missile adjusts with my change in direction but the flying base is insight. I dived to give @{(BreakerSky or CamouflageSky) "us"|"me"} a gravity boost in my acceleration.
*if BreakerSky or CamouflageSky

	"It's gaining!" $!{Name} yells into my ear as she increases her grip around my chest.
I can hear the warhead getting closer, it moves faster than the jets that I already cannot keep up with. There is no way that I am going to outrun it. That means there was only one thing to do: WAIT FOR THIS STORY TO COME OUT! :)

That’s cool! It reminds me a bit of the Markov process name generator that I sometimes use to get ideas. I like it, because it challenges me to get out of my comfort zone, in terms of inspiration.


The Royal Affairs epilogue is so branchy that it’s been hard to find much that’s easily readable, but here’s a bit about the PC having gone to university, under circumstances in which they’re romancing Hyacinthe who’s moved to Jezhan too. Noblesse Oblige players may recognise that this is the same university that Pascha attended, though obviously they’re not there anymore.

Caltari is an ancient university campus in the countryside whose creamy walls encompass ornate buildings and neatly-kept gardens and sports fields. Arched windows and domed roofs make it look decidedly foreign compared to what you’re used to, and it took time to pick up the nuances of the Jezhani language, but you quickly found yourself at home. It’s close to the colorful town of Caltari on the Jezhani Riviera, which everyone visits regularly to enjoy the seashore, but being away over the summer means you’ve escaped the much-derided tourist season.

Hyacinthe has been attending the Moradi Conservatory an hour’s train journey away, so you’ve seen ${hyacinthe_him} when you can, attending ${hyacinthe_his} recitals and watching ${hyacinthe_him} perform. $!{hyacinthe_he} @{hyacinthe_singular hasn’t|haven’t} yet performed solo, but ${hyacinthe_he}@{hyacinthe_singular 's|'re} determined to get there.

At other times you walk the Caltari gardens together, hand-in-hand beneath almond blossoms in the spring and beside bright waterlilies in the early summer. Though you’re not living together, Hyacinthe has clothes and belongings in your suite, and over the months you’ve settled into something warm and heartfelt.


Oh shoot. This is because of my last post, ain’t it? Oh man… I’m so sorry!

Hey man, I’m so sorry if my critique/advice wasn’t welcome, or made you upset! I didn’t think before posting it, or I would have asked if you were okay with it. If you’d like, I’ll happily delete it, or send it to your DMs, or whatever you want me to do, hun. Your work is amazing, and I hope that the PRAISE I gave you definitely outweighed any bad that the rest of it gave you… But in case it didn’t, please know I’m sorry.

That said, Here’s my responses to the current exerpts available:

This was absolutely thrilling to read. I don’t know anything about these characters yet, but just this little excerpt told me a lot about the PC’s personality, and gave me theories as to what was actually going on. (my running one is space ships moving throughs pace by using mirror-distortions like black holes.) You did really well here!

If you have, I haven’t seen it! It seemed interesting, and from what code of it I read, it seems like situationally, you’ve got fighter pilots interacting (and discussing the Mile High Club, which as an ace person has always confused me. why the hell would you risk everyone on a plane knowing you were fucking… I don’t get it, but that’s me. XD).

I like to use these name generators for my own work:
Chinese Name Tools (Ignore the payment requirement, you can fiddle around in the menu and find names without it)
Mandarin Name Generator
Fantasy Name Generator (A massive name generator that gives names for all kinds of situations including but not limited to:

I hope you know that I consider your games to be something like The Gold Standard for my own works. And this is part of it. Good job!



It is alright. There are new (and lurking) people that are not familiar with the tradition each month… so I explain it every time.

Sometimes excerpts get posted prior to my post that has mine, so sometimes the disclaimer isn’t there on those earlier posts.

Thank you. This is very encouraging! :revolving_hearts:

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Read your excerpt, and your writing is like, one of my favourite types to read for IF: just enough description and worldbuilding context to accompany plot. And also… :eyes: You know that someone is well-versed with chinese fiction novels when they use “the length of time an incense stick burns for” :joy: !

For this month’s excerpt, I’d like to share a snippet I’ve added to my first chapter that provides more worldbuilding in regards to my story’s court system and current factional rivalries, as well as more character development for both an RO and the MC.


Some students with less care for strategic prudence are already rolling their eyes at each other. As if the empress has the time to personally favor the promotion of a seventh rank courtier unless someone from the Measured Season clan had directly brought the matter up to her.

*if (promotionReaction = 1)
This is far from the first time you have witnessed derisive scorn in response to the extent of the Measured Season clan’s influence and ambition. Do they not care how others perceive them? But perhaps this is precisely the image the family must impress upon the court. After all, continued favor from four generations of crowns is a heavy gift with a curse suppressed only through endless diligence.
For the countless time since entering the palace, you cannot help but respect that the Measured Season clan is truly impressive in their influence and ambition. No matter how others at court may perceive them, the simple reality of their continued favor by four generations of crowns is more than enough of a testament to the family’s competency.

When your bottom line is already higher than the upper limit of most others, many things can be forgiven.

In the mix of surprise, contempt, and the uncaring anxiousness for lunchtime, one classmate’s reaction catches your eye.

*page_break Yilkarzad

$!{y_he} stands near the edge of the crowd of students, away from the center of attention. Yet, ${y_his} dark eyes cast an unbroken, candidly inquisitive stare towards the Imperial Secretary, confirming the ${y_heir}'s interest in the current affair regardless of whether ${y_he} wants it to be known or not.

Yilkarzad’s usually unreadable countenance is now colored with the softest shades of surprise and disappointed confusion. You find that it does not suit ${y_him}.

You look away, closing your eyes for a moment to clear your thoughts.

Treat it as entertainment, you think to yourself. As if any of the friction that exists among the imperial court requires your attention in any manner.

None of the love, hatred, passion, revenge, benevolence, cruelty, life, and death in this beautiful city of Tenzadjiln has ever, and will ever, be part of your story.



Ah yes, the issue with having royal favor for too long… Soon, the royals start thinking you’re arrogant, and worry you might be getting uppity. Then they plan your DOWNFALL.

Dude, only protagonists say shit like this, and it almost always ends up part of their story. XD Love the foreshadowing here. This kid has such a protagonist halo and is legit trying to refuse the call to action so hard. He’s gonna end up in a tragedy, if he doesn’t change his ways. (use of he pronouns is out of habit, not by assuming)


Her is an excerpt from my upcoming game for the jam:

TW: Gore

Leslie blinked.

When she opened her eyes from the fraction of a second of closing them, she found herself startled by an extremely loud, continuous sound. “Oh- fuck!” She jumped, but in so doing slipped and landed backside first on the wet ground beneath her. The sound that had made her jump was continuous, and near deafening. It was… club music.

Leslie’s breath began to speed up as the view in front of her was all too familiar. Bodies hanging from hooks on chains attached from the ceiling. Hundreds of them. She looked down and lifted her hands, which landed flat on the ground to help break her fall from before. In the flashing lights from above, she saw them both covered in blood. But she didn’t just see it, she felt it. It was warm and viscous, and it was already starting to dry and stain her skin, like a gore-inspired coat of paint.

“Oh- FUCK!” Leslie cried out and stumbled to her feet, slipping and sliding on the floor beneath her as she did. She was still in nothing but her long night shirt and underwear, so the blood smeared all over her backside, her feet, and the bottom of her legs. The blonde backed up and bumped into one of the corpses hanging behind her.

“Ah- shit!” She jumped away from the lifeless, gruesome sight of a blonde haired man with his neck sliced across horizontally and dried blood spilled all over the front of his chest. His face looked horrified… as if he was conscious and aware when the killing blow happened.

Leslie’s breath sped up even more, and her world began to spin. She hunched over and let out what little contents of her stomach she had, unable to keep it down after witnessing, feeling and smelling the horrific sight before her.

When she finished throwing up, she went straight into crying. “W-what the fuck is an-ny of this… WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Her voice was all but muffled by the thrumming bass of the music that filled the space.


The blonde’s head slowly looked up as she heard her name called out in a sing-song tone. The voice sounded clear, as if said inside her mind so that the music couldn’t overpower it. It was high pitched and haunting… a distorted version of a little girl’s voice.

Leslie was quiet and her breathing practically stopped. Her face was frozen in abstract fear as she looked out to the sea of hanging corpses. Her head snapped to the side when she saw one of the chains on the ceiling sway and shift under the flashing club lights.

“You painted me a new home… Leslie.” A giggle followed the eerie voice. It sounded grateful and twisted… and delighted

Leslie simply continued to stare, trying to watch for any other form of movement. She whispered as quietly as she could, “Y…You?”

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I’m uncharacteristically self-conscious about sharing, but here’s the first page of what I’m working on.

It’s common knowledge that there are three methods by which a person can acquire the extraordinary abilities that enable them to transcend their limits and become something more than human.

Option one is simple: be born to it. The right combination aligns in the genetic slot machine and thus emerges an individual exhibiting powers from early childhood. From birth, in some cases that generally aren’t spoken about in company that wants to keep a mood going. Either way, winners of this particular lottery are genomes, nature’s darlings. Or its accursed, depending who one asks.

It would be easy to boil the second route down to money and money alone, but the truth isn’t so straightforward. Becoming an augment requires a mixture of resources, connections and courage, all seasoned with a sprinkling of luck. Even if greasing the right palms may well prise the technology from the jealously guarded hoards of the government and black market, all the cash in the world can’t guarantee that the would-be augment’s new cybernetics don’t immediately, painfully, and lethally reject.

Finally, least understood and hottest debated are the flares. In a moment of great duress or danger, a seemingly ordinary person awakens their potential and manifests superhuman abilities. Besides the extreme circumstances of their origins, flares follow no patterns, exhibit no markers. They are the wild cards which render parahumans impossible to truly control, simultaneously a frustrating mystery and the romantic ideal that any person, no matter their background, may have it within them to become a superhero.

There are three methods. That’s common knowledge.

Thing is…

*page_break Common knowledge is wrong.


Ooh, it looks pretty interesting so far!

And don’t worry about being self conscious about your writing, I think everyone feels that way.


This isn’t new per se, it’s from my editing table, so if I’ve shown this before, apologies.

Cliffhanger? (Repo is the MC placeholder, in case you're wondering.)

“Attention everyone currently on duty,” Commander Sol says. “It seems we are under attack. Given how many of us are currently sick and need rest, I don’t want to turn on the sirens, but I suggest you all hold onto something.”

“What is it?” Rosenkranz asks.

“The alien ship,” Sol says. “We booted the modified shields, and they seem to be holding the EMP effects at bay so far, but the kinetic energy is something else. And Repo, get to bridge. You’re the acting security chief. Wibowo’s due to get his shift to end.”

“Copy that,” you say, and take running.

The bridge is in chaos. Well, relatively: the crew is still working as professionally as possible, all things considering. Commander Sol, who seems to be in charge (Rosenkranz must be in the science labs, as if that wasn’t obvious before), nods you a greeting as you enter.

“Commander, they’re charging weapons again,” the tactical officer says.

“I can see that,” Sol says. Instead of sitting in the captain’s chair, she’s walking back and forth on the bridge, in front of the aforementioned chair.

“What do you need me to do?” you ask.

“Nothing, at the moment,” Sol says. “Just be ready in case the situation changes.”

“I have no idea what’s happening here,” you say.

“No one does,” Sol says.

“Commander, the ship,” the tactical officer says.

Sol snaps her attention to the screens. You do so as well: this is a better view of the ship than you have gotten before, even with the sensor feed you watched with your cranial. It’s gigantic, its triangular form resembles an arrowhead, and there’s a strange light glowing, with increased intensity, at its tip. Sol stares at the view intently; “now,” she says.

The ship releases the light in a blinding beam, but Producer is already moving, and the shields take the brunt of the blast. The energy is massive, however, and Producer swings.

“Damage report,” Sol says.

“Shields are holding.”

“Engines are holding.”

“Life support is holding.”

“Some sensors are fried.”

Sol nods, frowning. “Mark the missing sensors. Turn the ship to the other side.”

The alien ship turns (or maybe it just looks like so because Producer is turning? No… the ship is, in fact, moving) and slides on top of you. Producer’s hull sings again, freezing you all, as you turn to look at the roof, trying to guess what the other ship is doing.

“Is that a freaking sonar they’re using?” Sol mutters. “Rosenkranz, are you getting this?”

“I see it, but I’m not sure I believe it,” Rosenkranz says. “Oh, what now?”

“What?” Sol asks. “What is it?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on the wide-range comm frequencies,” Rosenkranz says. “They just lit up. And not only because all the ships in the system are running to the hills. See for yourself.”

Sol curses under her breath, then orders the screens to switch between different views. There’s not much action beyond from the alien ship and the station though – as Rosenkranz said, all ships capable have already ran – so she finally settles at showing both of those on a split view. “What am I looking at, Rosenkranz?”

“Wish I knew, but the station and our friend just linked up.”

Gateway Station flares up, like something from the alien ship would be feeding it. The whole reality seems to shift for a moment, then a hole appears into the void, like space itself would be torn open. And you mean that literally: a hole in the nothingness, like a black hole but without the usual vortex around it. And besides, black holes don’t just appear like that.

The alien ship flies through the hole, which seems to twist and turn to fit to its shape. But what’s more, Producer gets caught in the gravity of the larger ship, pulling you along.

And then you’re falling again.

(Sidenote, I have a random urge to use the word Jungkerl.)

Also have a bonus snippet, this is from another story.

The MC has been captured by a supervillain.

From your position, you see a shadow dropping from the roof, standing still for a moment, and then starting to move methodically around the room. When the shape comes closer, you realize it’s… Afterthought.

…did he just break into a supervillain lair? The nerve of that guy.

Afterthought passes you, freezes, does a double take in your direction - he’s in his caper gear, so you can’t exactly see where he’s looking at - and then approaches you, slowly and carefully like a wild animal.

”What are you doing here?” you hiss.

”Well, I don’t know,” he shrughs. ”What does a tech thief do in a R&D lab? Is this,” he gestures vaguely at your predicament, ”a part of your plan, or do you need help?”

”What do you care?”

”I mean, I do usually prefer blueprints - they’re so much easier to carry - but how could I resist a heist to steal a vigilante?


Ok, it’s that time again:

I won’t reveal where this is, only that there is some kind of phone booth here:


*Walk up to the phone booth.
You walk up to the phone booth. The door of the phone booth slides open. It’s no ordinary phone booth. Inside, beside the phone, is a mysterious hologram. That hologram is that of your creator, Doctor Thomas Light.

Except that he is not dressed in his typical laboratory coat. He is decked out in a karate gi.

“Ah, $!{name}… So you’ve made it this far, have you? Enter this capsule, and you will receive an ability that only a few people have mastered through intense training. Since your soul is nearly human, I suspect you can master it… $!{name}… Feel the power flowing in you. Learn to throw fireballs!”

The hologram fades away, and…

IFComp reviews are still underway, so progress on MH: SM will probably be slower than usual.


BRO… I HAVE (almost) THE SAME PROBLEM WITH MY WRITING omg… why is there no clean and simple English word for “a two-hour period” :sob: !!! I don’t want to and also can’t use “Shichen” because my story isn’t only ancient china-inspired, and because then I would need to think about how to explain what “Shichen” means in a way that doesn’t interrupt the flow of the story and also doesn’t require the user to like, go to the stats page and search it up or something

Hahaa :rofl: you got it exactly right lmao, and also you need to be very careful about other people in court getting jealous of you and setting up political traps :eyes:

:smiling_imp: hehehe… this is a part of my story when the MC hasn’t actually been “recruited” by the empress to participate in imperial court affairs, and the MC is actually an outsider who isn’t from the empire who is forced to live there for… reasons, so that’s why MC feels so out-of-place right now lol :joy:


‘A heist to steal a vigilante’ made me giggle. Great line.


@Amesy has ended a game for the jam Digital Twin… I am super hyped. Hope everyone try it and givefeedback on it to Amy via pm.

4 games so far I am really happy


Thankyou for the shout-out!


You deserve it!


I hope everyone’s third week of October has gotten off to a good start.

The Halloween Jam is proceeding well. Here are the entries received thus far:

Links to Submitted Games

Feedback requests and instructions to submit feedback is located here: 2023’s Halloween Beta Thread

Congrats to @Dash on the release of Vampire’s Kiss, a title that seems intriguing on several levels. I can’t wait to explore it.

This week I am working on my own Jam entry, Through the Twisting Glass.

I am enjoying writing it and have worked out a couple of mechanics with their controlling systems, which means, I will have a working magic and armor system ready to go in Choicescript. (If I ever get to those stories that need them.)

So far, I have enjoyed putting easter eggs in that connect my entry to the classic: Through the Looking Glass, and I hope people enjoy them as much as I have, writing them.


See, Twine has an option where you can add some javascript to it, which allows you do hover-over words which would be GREAT for definitions and shit like that, but Choicescript doesn’t have anything like that. TAT It’s sooooo frustratinggggg

I fricking LOVE court dramas.

Okay, so I really loved this section, it’s got great horror-movie vibes to it. Very classic. I’d personally make a few changes, but it’s fantastic!

Ah yes, the three methods of success in any world: Nepotism, Greed or Luck.
No, but seriously this is a lovely look into the kind of nihilistic thought process of the narrator here. Good job!

This is an amazing fucking name. I don’t know if you made it up, or got it from a culture I know nothing about, or what, but I would love for my last name to be Wibowo. “Wee-Bow-Woah” just rolls off the tongue.

And then you’re falling again is a badass line. Invokes the “I’ve been falling for THIRTY MINUTES” line from Avengers.

This is not the correct response to someone offering help, PC. XD

THE BANTER. Omg, it’s so juicy here. XD I love it.

By itself?! HOW SPOOKY! (I’m just kidding).

I’m sorry, nearly? Only nearly human.
This was a really interesting look at how the narrative itself is seemingly describing game-style dialogue. I loved it!