Aragorn's ring

Upsidownpenguin

United States

Writing about the dwarves and playing the dungeons and the dragons. 17, and looking to get published someday.
Also growing an obsession with modular synthesizers.
Write Free

Message from Writer

A smart person knows what to say, a charismatic person knows how to say it, and a wise person knows whether or not it should be said.
It doesn't matter how terrible you think you are- what matters is who you want to become; who you strive to be. Because destiny does not lie in the present circumstance, but rather with intention and potential.
The man or woman who stands aside as they witness a tragedy is not always bad- but rather scared. Fear is the ultimate motivator, and not all who stand are brave.
The stars direct us, they lead us. God is in every moment. But he does not rule our destiny. It is within our hearts that the future lies. The divine merely helps our decisions make an impact.
Truth is true even if no one believes it.

Published Work

Review plate is full; looking for pieces to comment on

Hey so if you want a short little snippet of a review for a piece just let me know what piece you would like a comment on and I'll do my best to give good comments.

Please give specific pieces, not a general "I have no preference" statement.

Probably gonna take this down soon.

Unity: The City Older than Gods

My name’s Corinth Velmont (booing). Yeah, boo at me all you want, but that won’t change my job. For those of you unaware, I am a vampire. I was made this way by my mother Zora Velmont and she was made that way by her mother Y’lana Velmont. I am from a family line that doesn’t love this city, doesn’t care for its people, and only exists here to see it in ruins.
    But that’s not why I’m here. My mentor, Rader Kahn, dragon and headmaster of the college of Magdora, has asked me to give a speech on why I love the city of Unity.
    Now, you may think that that may be difficult for me, considering my status as an outcast in this city. But it truly isn’t as hard as you may think, because I do love this city.
    Fellow citizens, I love this city more than my mother loves kissing the church’s...

[Review submissions closed]

As of now my plate of reviews for my 25 followers celebration is closed. Thank you to all those who asked questions and asked for reviews. I will get as many reviews done as I can in the next few months.

25 followers ANSWERS + 3 more review submissions available

First off, from now on, during this celebration of mine: you MUST give me a specific piece you want reviewed. Those who have submitted asking for any piece will still get a review since I wasn't clear on that before. But from now on you must ask for a specific piece.

Anyways, time for question answers (so far)

I'll start with Ajamwal's questions first, since there are a lot.
1) my dream trip huh? I dunno, wherever I end up next year. Suit and tie, doing religion stuff.
2) my favorite wtw piece is 'why do we write?' By _blue. It's seriously so good.
3) 21 is best number. 3 7's. 3 Godhead members, 7 days. All day woohoo silly religion. Also ce tur tel  is three.
4) Mrs. Galbigorki was really bad. 8th grade math teacher. Every day was a screaming contest.
5) my friends are my family; my family are my friends.
6) I got shot at once....

25 followers stuff

Salut humans and/or writers! It appears I have hit the humble milestone of 25 followers. I know that's not a lot, but I still think it's quite fancy.

I've noticed that when people hit follower milestones on this site, they do something special. SO

Free reviews time. And a Q&A.

To get a free review or to give someone else the chance at one, please comment the name of the piece as well as a link if you can manage that. I will review as many of the pieces as I can, but will probably stop after the first seven or ten if it gets that high.

As for the Q&A, I am an open, sealed book. Feel free to ask anything appropriate, but I reserve the right not to answer certain questions.

so yep. I will keep reposting this every day at random times until I get a certain number of reviews or questions. Hopefully that won't be annoying.

God's Brother, the Red One | #blackandwhite

    “This is a tale of two brothers,” The narrator said solemnly. The elf was dressed in red and purple robes, a kimono of sorts. She had short-cropped black hair that appeared more like raven feathers. “Two brothers, and two tragedies. As you watch, please be silent so that the music may swell.”
    Jel clapped with the rest of the audience as the velvet curtain was drawn upwards, revealing the beautiful paper decorations. Each of the decorations expressed grandiose versions of mundane things. Urns and Swords were flowery and endlessly curving. Paper walls depicted the shadows of trees, also changed to look unnaturally serene. So was the way of the performance; making all things greater than they are, for better or worse.
    But Jel didn’t truly understand. She was only fifteen years of age. Practically an infant to the average elf. Practically a fetus to the gloria.
    The music started suddenly, and two young actors leapt at...

Bubblegum Ice Cream | #wattlebird | prompt one

WARNING! THIS IS BY FAR THE DARKEST PIECE I'VE WRITTEN. LIKE SERIOUSLY. IF YOU ARE EASILY DISTURBED THEN DO NOT READ THIS. KAY THEN.

glad to have all that sorted out.

-----

Tic-toc
Tic-toc
Tic-toc
Tic-toc
Tic-toc
The old grandfather clock made its sound quietly, not wanting to disturb the hungry child. She did seem to enjoy her ice cream so much, after all.
The little girl, only 11, sat at the window, waiting for the ice cream truck to arrive. She was fresh out of the store-bought and home-made stuff her mother used to make. And for that mother felt bad. There was no more of the delicious pink and red bubblegum ice-cream.
So mother made more ice cream haha.
Hahahahahahaha.
Hahaha.
Ha.
It was funny. Maybe it was the sugar talking, but the little girl loved the ice cream her mother made. A shame she couldn't enjoy it as well…
Haha.
Her hands were sticky with the creamy,...

confessions and hopefully a brighter future...?

hello again

i'm gonna say a few things that i might regret later but here we go anyways.

i made the reviewer's enclave a while back. that was a thing. some still think it is. you may have noticed how i have very few published reviews and both of them suck. this is because i had a terrible approach to reviewing when i wrote these. i never proofread them or checked for bullcrap feedback. i wrote them immediately after reading them with no regard for anything other than immediate thoughts.

which can be good! don't get me wrong, reviews like that can be good. BUT my reviews weren't great. if i could undo them i would.

from now on, all of my reviews will be much more thought out and more effort will be put into helping the writers i review. i hope to have as many done as possible by the end of the year. let's put a numerical...

ON HIATUS

As of now, I am on break from sharing anything from this site. I would explain why but I'd rather not tell internet strangers what's going on. Thanks to the enclave members for their reviews.

I have tried to publish reviews lately and my latest one has been blocked for being too harsh. I will respect the moderators of this community but I will not change my reviews as I believe that my thoughts can be useful without being needlessly censored. Maybe that isn't the right word but whatever.

Thanks to weirdo especially for being one of my greatest friends on this site and for helping with my failed attempt to get the enclave to be an official group.

Thanks to Ajamwal for being so enthusiastic about my group even if I did have to leave it in the dust until further notice.

Thanks to Juliana and r|A|i|N for proving that there can still be excellent reviews on this site...

July has Ended! Review Winners Announced!

    Okay, so there's been a bit of trouble with getting an official group for the enclave... And the review I made this month has not been published yet. I am working on both of these things but hopefully, all will go well soon.
    There was only one entry for the prompt this past month, so congratulations CrowSF! You win this month with absolutely no competition. This doesn't mean that your piece is bad, in fact, I really really like the piece. Your take on the character Spoon, in particular, was very refreshing to read since I was expecting something completely different. Crater Cafe is honestly one of my favorite pieces on this site.
    As for reviews! Everyone's favorite part. The WtW user Juliana had an amazingly in-depth review. You have to scroll down ways just to read it all. Although for some reason WtW didn't let me see the review, I coordinated with weirdo to have screenshots sent...

The Deadline for #pickthreecards is coming up! make your submissions soon!

Just a reminder that the submission end date for the first enclave prompt is coming up! We have only one submission so far, and the submission will automatically win if there are no other submissions.
As for reviews, I have been reading through the ones posted in the original prompt's comments. We have some really good ones so far, and it has been very enjoyable to see how others critique stuff.
As a tip, a review isn't a review if you don't say something critical. You can praise something all you want, but the writer will have a much harder time expanding their skills if they are never told that they are falling short on certain elements or not describing things accurately or evocatively.
Keep up the great work everyone.

Write free, as they say.

July's Enclave Prompt! #Pickthreecards

Hello everybody! This is the first Reviewer’s Enclave writing challenge. This challenge will go for the rest of the month of July 2019 and will end the first day of August 2019.
    So, we all love a good set of characters. They are what gets us to believe that the events in a novel or story are happening. They are the source of our immersion and verisimilitude in reading.
    Here’s the challenge: You have to pick three of the characters below and write a story about them interacting in a believable way. How would they react to each other?
    Each character “card” has information that     must be included in your story. Their backstory doesn’t have to be explained, only referenced, just to make things simple.
    Also! There is a review competition this month! When you write an excellent (and I mean excellent) review, post a link to it in the comments below so others can...

The Mask of Ire and Masochistic Desire

You won’t admit it.
This mask feels good.
But it hurts.
This mask sears a pair of glasses to your face, melting your flesh and twisting your bones.
This mask puts a gag in your mouth, filling it with gauze and your own blood.
But what do you see?
You see everyone around you living a perfect life.
You see everyone around you living without you.
The world turns but you stay stuck where you are.
You watch as everything around you hangs in perfect balance,
And you’re too afraid to upset that.
So you stand there, not interacting at all.
No interaction,
No one to show you that the balance isn’t real.
You become reserved,
Hiding behind your mask of glass and blood.
Your flesh searing,
Your mouth bleeding.

There was a boat,
In the middle of the ocean,
Surrounded by fish, sharks and dolphins.
But they all look the same from the ship.
The fisherman casts his net,...

The Mask of Insomnia and Horrifying Visions

This one keeps your eyes wide open. Hundreds of daggers pulling your eyelids open, dirks searing your flesh and needles in your cheeks.
The sword in your mouth.
The sword in your mouth.
What do you see?
Hmm?
You don’t want to share?
WHY NOT!?
Isn’t it wonderful?
The daggers mean nothing when you see it.
All these potentials,
All these
Realities.
All of them horrifying.
Get some rest, damn it.
You need it.
It’ll just keep haunting you-
Unless
Unless
UNLESS
it’s all real.
Then it’ll just haunt you while you sleep.
What do you see?
A bloodbath
Carnage
Death
All your doing.
In a way
You kind of want it to be real.
This is the mask of insomnia,
But it is filled with.
RAGE
You can’t look away, else the sword will cut you;
The dirks twisting and turning,
The needles digging.
So you look on
Your mouth too full of steel to scream for help.
Help...

Call to Action! Join the #enclave !

In my latest piece, An Open Letter to WtW Users, I talked about a group called the Reviewer’s Enclave. I didn’t go into detail on what that was, but with this piece I hope to describe what I meant when I brought it up.
    First off, the enclave is not an official group. It is something I made up and is more of a way to put a name to an otherwise untitled group of commenters/reviewers. My hope with this is to expand the more critical (but still constructive) side of WtW in order to help aspiring writers (including myself) grow and improve.
    As of late reviews have not been common-place and commenting (to my knowledge) is even rarer. This fact has bothered me ever since joining the site back in May and I firmly believe that these tools could be used to great effect. As I have observed they have not been utilized to their greatest potential. ...

An Open Letter to WtW Users

At times, as writers we can be disappointed. I recently had to give up on writing a story that had no meaning and was going nowhere. The manuscript was 20 chapters and 50,000 words. Not a lot, I know, but quite a bit for my first attempt at writing an ambitious novel.
    Dealing with disappointment in yourself as a creative person is one of the hardest things a writer faces. Falling in and out of love with a story, realizing something you made isn’t great, or just not being recognized by your peers are all hard things to cope with when you spend so much time on your work.
    I face this issue a lot. I write short stories because it doesn’t give me time to fall out of love with them. I write short stories so I can easily revise mistakes. I write so I can express myself.
    I’ve said before that I don’t write for...

Masks. What Kinds do You See?

So as some of you may know I recently started writing a series called Masks.
I really like this idea and will probably continue writing many of them.
But I want to read the kinds of masks you've seen people wear.
These masks are not literal, but rather figurative representations of mental disorders and hardship.

This isn't a contest, just a game to play.
If you feel so inclined, write your own mask story! I think that'd be rad.

Here's how I usually title my Mask stories:
The Mask of ___ and ___  ___

The writing style is a little strange
-Short paragraphs, sometimes only a few words.
-Important or sarcastic comments are italicized.
-Very important comments are BOLDED, CAPS AND ITALICIZED

If you want to, go ahead and forgo any of these parameters and be creative. Just be careful with how dark you can get. These Masks are not meant to be good things, but if you want to...

The Mask of Terror and Suffocating Grasps

It’s terrifying, isn’t it?
This one hurts the most.
Not a lot of people wear this mask.
But those that do,
But those that do,
Wear it all the time.
This mask is your terror. Your fears of what your reality will do and is doing.
This is the mask of thousands of hands, each one grasping for your mouth. The fingers worm their way in, they pull at your tongue and teeth. Poke your eyes, and plug your ears.
Your senses are leaving.
All you get is terror
ALL YOU GET IS TERROR
They won’t stop. You’re drowning in their flesh.
You try to scream but the fingers only dig deeper.
How do you get out?
How do you get out?
You can tear at the hands all you want, they won’t stop coming and clawing.
COMING AND CLAWING
CLAWING

With this mask
THE MASK OF TERROR AND SUFFOCATING GRASPS
The only way out may seem inevitable
The only...

The Mask of Trust and Charred Love v2

You thought you finally found a good mask.
Maybe you didn’t even think it was a mask.
Just a feeling.
But you wore it regardless.
I know this one.
The mask that burns like a cloud of stars on your face.
The cloud of stars.
THE STARS
But you can’t wear this mask alone.
No,
Someone has to put it on you first.
Someone you trust.
Someone you love.
At first it’s warm, welcoming.
Maybe even enjoyable.
But then they start pressing it into your flesh.
That devilish hand
Presses it into your cheeks, your chin and mouth.
It didn’t hurt before.
But now it does.
And they were the ones who made it that way.
Right?
No.
No.
NO.
It’s still on you.
You could’ve stopped them.
But you didn’t.
You trusted them.
TRUSTED THEM.
You loved them.
LOVED THEM.
You didn’t think of yourself.
They told you it’s what they wanted.
You wanted them to be happy.
To...

The Mask of Death, Revised

It burns. The bright light fills your eyes like water down a hose. It is awe-inspiring. It is more beautiful than anything else you've ever seen; ever felt.
Then you feel it. The expanding sensation in your eyes. A crackling and popping and buzzing that at first you pay no mind.
And then you go blind.
One mushroom,
Two mushrooms.
A blighting fungus begins to fill your eyes, draining them of any fluids. They are rotting, decomposing and melting in the heat of the light and acid touch of the blight.
You puke and fuzz comes out. It's blue and smoldering. You look down with tears in your eyes, with what little vision you have left. Inside the mucus and acids of your own flesh you swear you can see a face. A face that is still. Not moving.
It's your face.
It looks peaceful. Not a single welt or blemish is seen in this dead face.
You long for...

A Recommendation

So

_blue makes some of the best writing I've ever seen. Their piece Why Do we Write is probably one of the better pieces I've ever read. I strongly recommend checking their pieces out if you haven't yet.

That is all. Have a good day.

The Mask of Death and Blighted Silence

You don't even try to hide it.
Or maybe you do.
I dunno
Do you?
DO YOU!?
I can see it. I can't hear it.
All your cries for help are blighted behind your jokes, your laughter and feigned indifference.
No one's looking and they can't hear you.
NO ONE IS LOOKING AND THEY CAN'T HEAR YOU.
Not that they would care anyways.
Or at least that's what you keep telling yourself.
At least every other person wears this mask, or still has the scars from it. They’re almost blind from the intense light that once or does shine in their eyes.
The light is blinding
It isn’t a good light. It’s like the red sky in the morning, except much more intense and constantly growing.
It is a blight
A blight
IT’S A BLIGHT
A fungus growing in your eyes, rotting them out, warping your perception. It hurts like nothing else but you can’t scream. The silence is uncanny....

The Mask of Wrath & Baleful Ice

It’s not invisible.
I can see it at least. On about every three people I see a mask of frozen heat and heated ice. A mask of hate, of wrath. A loathsome mask of terror.
It’s not invisible.
Is that what they really look like? A big grin on their face? I don’t see a smile. I see a demonic frown that has warped mortal perception to see the falling angel. Little do most know that the rising devil can look like it falls when it hangs you upside-down.
WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF MY NAME NOW
It’s not invisible.
You just have to look closely. It makes a sound too, though it’s like the hum of a refrigerator. You don’t notice it at first, but once you do, it never stops filling your ears. It sounds like the crackling of strained wood. The popping of a cold soda. The expanding of a Baleful Ice.
The Expanding of Baleful Ice. ...

No Sarcasm Included

“Nothing I do matters anyways.” or “It’ll all be over soon.”
What do you want me to say to that? Do you want a gold star? A certification? A round of applause? That’s what it sounds like you want. Do me a favor and leave me alone until you’re ready to stop poisoning your mind with such thoughts.
    Although physically your mind might not ‘rot’ with such thoughts, are you really going to let yourself become a poison to those around you with such things? I could’ve been more morbid with those two statements, so allow me to delve a little deeper.
“Nothing I do matters anyways, not as long as everyone hates me as much as I do myself.” or “It’ll all be over soon, after I'm dead."
Yeah. I wish I could tell you to shut up.
    But that’s not how the world works, is it? Hell, I’m being toxic right now, aren’t I? Whoops, I...

Blood and Ire

Here lies a god
Of blood and ire.
Just under sod;
Dirt and the fire.

We built his keep
With tears and sweat.
We tore it down
With sweat and blood.

The hammer falls;
The hammer falls;
And the throne comes
Crashing down.

Here lies a god
Of blood and ire.

We built his keep;
We tore it down.

We built his throne;
We tore it down.

We built his keep;
Its ghost still stands.

We built his keep;
And gods don’t die.

We built his keep;
But gods don’t die.

We built his keep;
But.
Gods.
Don’t.
Die.

They only sleep,
To wake another
Day.

A day of Blood,
A day of Ire.

A day of Blood and Ire.

Fantasy Writing Competition 2019

Sailor

“Occupation.” The guild hand asked.
    “Farmer,” Alec said, nervously holding his hat.
    The hand looked down. The human was covered in sand, as was everything else on the land lakes. “Farmer? Ha! That’s a good one. Occupation.” He said dryly.
    “I wasn’t joking.” Alec, the stout and small midge said. “Farmer.” His floppy brown hair billowed in the light wind.
    The human scowled. He wrote down a few words. “Alright, then, Mr. Gartherbon. You are now part of the race. Have fun with that… raft of yours.”
    Alec sighed a sigh of relief. He waddled over to his ‘raft’ of a sand sail, which was hovering slightly above the sand. Reaching up for the rope, he heard two sailors entering the race talking about his ship.
    “Can’t wait to see that hunk of junk blasted to smithereens!” One said.
    “Which one? The midge or the raft?” The two sailors laughed and walked off...

Fantasy Writing Competition 2019

Sailor

“Occupation.” The guild hand asked.
    “Farmer,” Alec said, nervously holding his hat.
    The hand looked down. The human was covered in sand, as was everything else on the land lakes. “Farmer? Ha! That’s a good one. Occupation.” He said dryly.
    “I wasn’t joking.” Alec, the stout and small midge said. “Farmer.” His floppy brown hair billowed in the light wind.
    The human scowled. He wrote down a few words. “Alright, then, Mr. Gartherbon. You are now part of the race. Have fun with that… raft of yours.”
    Alec sighed a sigh of relief. He waddled over to his ‘raft’ of a sand sail, which was hovering slightly above the sand. Reaching up for the rope, he heard two sailors entering the race talking about his ship.
    “Can’t wait to see that hunk of junk blasted to smithereens!” One said.
    “Which one? The midge or the raft?” The two sailors laughed and walked off...

The Constitution and Importance of Morality in the Human Mind

What constitutes morality, and why is it important? That is a genuine question I’ve learned quite a few people have. This question may come in many different forms, but ultimately the trillions of ways it can be asked can be narrowed down to the one I opened with. Hopefully, if I play my cards right, I can answer a fraction of that question with a biased opinion.
    One of my favorite scenes from Star Trek: The Next Generation involves Captain Picard demonstrating morality to a rather… scientific race of alien humanoids (link in the footnotes). This scene describes and demonstrates a very important part of morality, and I what I believe to be the best description of its function and role in sentient beings. This scene starts with the aliens laughing at Picard’s ‘morals’ and ends with them fleeing in terror once they understand his point. The aliens scoff at the captain’s verbal attempts to plead for respect of...

Chuthian Minds

“It’s like there’s a million voices inside my head at once,” The little girl said. She had clammy gray skin and red tattoos that covered her entire body. She was bald, and what little hair there was seemed to be made of a stringy and wet material similar to unwound yarn.
    “And how do you deal with it?” The Grand Songnote asked. Her devilish features reflected the light of the candle.
    “I don’t.” The girl said. “They tell me such wondrous things. Such amazing things.”
    Jasmine D’ligh, Grand Songnote, said nothing about the girl’s prior murders and homicides.
    “All they ask is that I prick my tongue with a needle and then it’s like waking up from a dream.”
    Jasmine turned the lights up, revealing the rest of the room so she could examine the girl. She was completely restrained in a straight jacket, inside a cage that was magically warded. The girl had four...

To be a Saint Part One

Asmogol looked up at the statue to his grandmother, Saint Gorvicha. It depicted her clad in half-plate armor, war axe in hand and the shield of Sir Gaide in the other. She had comparably English features with a hint of Asian in her face, though on Esquinor those ethnicities* had different names.
    He planted his hand on the foot of the statue and rubbed it for good luck. The pain in his neck was still strong and his left arm was still in its sling.
    “Asmo?” Sare asked as she came around the corner. “The celebration is in district five. Cori has been waiting for you.”
    Holding back tears, Asmo let go of the statue. “Right, I’ll be there soon.”
    “Are you alrigh--”
    “I’ll be there, Sare.” Asmogol said scoldingly. He didn’t watch as Sare nodded and walked away quickly. He sighed and sat at the foot of the statue.
    “I’m sorry I failed,...

Fantasy Writing Competition 2019

Sailor

“Occupation.” The guild hand asked.
    “Farmer,” Alec said, nervously holding his hat.
    The hand looked down. The human was covered in sand, as was everything else on the land lakes. “Farmer? Ha! That’s a good one. Occupation.” He said dryly.
    “I wasn’t joking.” Alec said. “Farmer.”
    The human scowled. He wrote down a few words. “Alright, then, Mr. Gartherbon. You are now part of the race. Have fun with that… raft of yours.”
    Alec sighed a sigh of relief. He waddled over to his ‘raft’ of a sand sail, which was hovering slightly above the sand. Reaching up for the rope, he heard two sailors entering the race talking about his ship.
    “Can’t wait to see that hunk of junk blasted to smithereens!” One said.
    “Which one? The halfling or the raft?” The two sailors laughed and walked off towards their vessel, which was a titanic warship, one that had an engine on...

Chancellor

“Chancellor,” The short, ancient gnome asked in a high-pitched voice. “If I may, I--”
    “You may not.” The chancellor said. The elder, copper dragul’s* cogs and gears twisted and turned as he wrote in his binders. His draconic nostrils blew small clouds of steam.
    “B-but--”
    “No buts, Mr. Fornalakalinentarnan.” The chancellor said. “Kaldo** has laws to be obeyed. If those laws are not followed, the system falls apart.”
    “Chancellor, I was merely--”
    “Worshiping a heathen god,” Chancellor Copus interrupted. “And caught reading dark scripture.”
    The gnome wilted under the weight of the Chancellor’s words. “That is correct, chancellor.”
    “Yes, though we already knew that, didn’t we, Mr. Fornalakalinentarnan? Didn’t we all know that?” The crowd cheered as the chancellor made a fool of the gnome. “You have committed crimes against Zepherheim and its people. The crime, according to our first law, was worshiping the heathen god known as the Death Shaper, god of...

It's Probably Nothing

I can see the words on the page, but do I really read them? I mean, don't get me wrong, I can still comprehend and understand, but do I really know ​what the words say? Like, think of it this way: Language didn't come with us naturally. It was something we made. Something that didn't exist for a long time. It confuses me a little bit, just a tiny bit. We supposedly come from the same source. Whether it you believe it to be of God or of the brine-filled depths of the oceans isn't what I'm here to debate, though. 
   It is astounding to me that somehow, despite our similarities, we can come up with so many different ​meanings from the same words, or different ones. There's even some who've invented words to convey meaning. It's kind of funny, how we link sounds and syllables together in the ways that we do. To many, the words of another...