Queen Hatshepsut Of Ancient Egypt. She Has A Lovely Smile For Someone Who’s Been Dead For Thousands

Truly a masterpiece that will live on as the purest form of art. Made this in MSPaint and was convinced to post it. I hope you enjoy.

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Y'know, you could just make up accents in dnd. Tried to give ur character an Australian accent and failed? Well, there is no Australia in this fantasy universe, but there is conceivably a settlement of people who all speak in an accent which sounds, to our ears, like really bad Australian.

What I’m saying is just use the worst fuckong voices for all ur characters and if u get called out on then just say it’s how people talk in fricking green-mushrooms or wherever ur character comes from. Make your party suffer.

Fenster the Deviler - Business before pleasure

After reading the first Witcher book “The Last Wish” I was inspired to try writing in that style. Not three sentences in, it become a parody story. Grant me this rambling tale of the grumpy Deviler, Fenster.

...

The morning dew still clung to the undergrowth in the shaded parts of the forest. Among the soggy grasses and flowers, a figure turned against the midday sun peeking through the trees.

 "The sun should be illegal," The slothful figure muttered. Along a single sunbeam, a small pixie descended to the disgruntled man's side.

 "Good MORNING Fenster!" It barked in a voice not too unlike jingling bells. "We have a job today!"

 Fenster rolled up to a sitting position. His eyes were still closed in a gambit that clever wordplay could allow him to collapse back onto his soggy bedroll for the rest of the day.

 "Bingle," Fenster began with a patient voice, "I fear I have come down with a case of Vampirism and can no longer work in the daytime."

 "Oh I see," Bingle said, "I just figured you wanted to get some money. Seeing as how you haven't had a job in almost a month."

 It was true, Fenster had hit a rough patch. The once noble profession of deviler, those who stand as pillars against the darkness, had diluted to that of thugs who will glare at drunks for chump change. He thought himself the last of the TRUE devilers, but with that dignity came an empty stomach and nights spent among the weeds. Still, to a deviler like Fenster, dignity was the last bedrock for which the fragments of his misspent life can build from.

 "We shall see," Fenster said, raising to his feet, "If this job is worthy of a deviler."

 The little sprite cheered and busied himself gathering the sparse belongings of Fenster. Packed into a satchel, Fenster made his way out of the woods and into the nearby town.

 ~~~~

 The little town of Globshire was a scenic place nestled between the Wobyjack mountains and the Fimblefank river. Due to the heavy snow melt every spring, the town would completely flood. The people of the town, instead of moving, created advanced plumbing systems that could help redistribute the sudden rush of water and allow the town to keep from being totally submerged. This innovation used metal pipes forged from the ore mined out of the Wobyjack mountains. Globshire was a marvel of human ingenuity, creativity, and work ethic.

Just downriver of Globshire was Dunk, and Dunk was an absolute hog hole that was designed so it could easily be rebuilt after the flush of water from Globshire would clear it out every year.

Fenster sloshed his way through the fresh runoff of the swollen river and into Dunk's hospitable charm. People in various forms of water-resistant clothing trudged through the fresh mud of their town, carrying building materials to repair and rebuild. Those who were unable to aid in the efforts sat tending to floating bonfires and preparing meals for when the workers needed a break.

Bingle sat perched on his shoulder like an exotic bird. "This place is nice." He said with a smile, "Everyone is so friendly."

 "That's probably because they don't want to mess with a guy in black leather with a sparkly whatever sitting on his shoulder. Deviler or no, the sight can be quite intimidating." Fenster allowed himself a wry smile.

"Over there," He pointed his tiny finger at a shack that was upright, but missing a great deal of one of its walls. "The person in there needs a deviler."

 "Or a carpenter." Fenster said. He then turned his head to look at Bingle, "I swear to the nine fires if this is a job about building or sawing, I am going to slap you."

 Bingle said nothing, however he did giggle. It was the sound of bells being shaken violently in a sack made of animal skin. Whimsical and chaotic and slightly threatening. The deviler walked on.

 The owner of the shack spotted Fenster first and hustled out of her shabby abode to meet him.

"Oh! You must be the deviler! The little blue bird was right! Prayers can come true."

Fenster managed a charitable smile and spoke quietly to his diminutive companion, "Blue bird? A little on the nose, don't you think?"

Bingle shrugged, "I am whatever the people want me to be."

 he woman rushed up to Fenster. "Oh merciful Deviler, whisperer to small blue birds and deliverer of justice, I am in need of your help." She bowed her head to him.

 "Whoa, steady on there," He said, lifting his hands defensively, "Let's not get carried away here. What's the job?"

 She lifted her head, "So humble, please come this way and we'll talk." She walked back to her home and opened the door for him. Fenster paid a small glance to the gaping opening just beside the door and shrugged. He stepped in through the door and gave her a small gesture of thanks.

 ~~~~~

 "I need Wobyjack scales." Valencia said. "I need them by next week."

 he deviler had barely time to sit at the large crate that functioned as a table before Valencia, the woman from before, please try to keep up, had made her demand. Fenster was no stranger to getting right to the point, but even he was shocked by the sudden drop of decorum. Bingle had hopped onto a shelf well out of reach of the juicy floor, and was fussing with some of the shiny finery.

 "Right, sorry, Wobyjack scales?" Fenster said. He fished in one of his jacket pockets for a notebook. It was labeled, 'Incredible Monsters and how to locate them: Abridged". He flipped to the back of the book and found the small entry for wobyjacks. They are dragonkin that live in mountain caves. Known for being incredibly territorial, walking into a wobyjack cave is akin to a declaration of war. Be careful of their fire breath, acid blood, and mythril scales. Danger rank, Captain.

 "Yes," Valencia said. "I need those scales to finish my inaugural headdress before next week or I shall be the laughing stock of Dunk. A mayoress without her headdress is likely to be butchered as soon as obeyed. Why, you hear talk of the previous mayoress, Clotina Valor, now she had a headdress that could turn heads. Did you know she had the head guard stand watch over her bathing at night? The Scandal! You believe me if she had a simple headdress with only a few jubjubber feathers she would have been drawn and quartered. Do you understand my meaning?"

 "Sounds tough," Fenster said absent-mindedly, his eyes were still hovering over the word "Captain" in his book. He had never been one for numbers, but the preliminary calculations for his pay were pointing towards a hot bath and a hot meal by week's end. But something nagged at the edge of his mind. The part of his mind where he stashed nagging things, like bathing habits, birthdays, and the Deviler's Code.

He snapped the notebook shut, "You want me to slay a wobyjack for your outfit?"

"Not just any outfit," She said harshly, folding her arms across her substantial chest, "This is the official mayoral headdress and ONLY wobyjack scales will suffice." She slackened her arms, letting them fall to her sides. "I know it is short notice but you are my only hope, all the others whom I have asked have turned me down." Valencia said, she was dipping back into the sing-songy voice she had greeted him with, complete with a lilt and gesture of a fainting woman. "I am at wits end."

"I am not a tailor nor a tanner, I am a deviler." He said, "And I will not kill a beast like the wobyjack without a better reason." He moved to stand up, and that is when his stomach let out a most unflattering howl. The following silence was deafening.

"Will you give me a minute?" Fenster said. He gestured up at Bingle and the two went outside.

~~~~~

Fenster tapped his chin, looking pensively at the ground. Bingle hovered beside him, his sheer butterfly wings fluttering, which also sounded like bells.

"So," Bingle said at last, "What are you thinking?"

"I'm conflicted," Fenster said, stamping his foot on the ground, "Can't you see that? I'm tapping my chin, I'm looking down, clearly pensive. Read the air you damn pixie." He sighed. His stomach growled again.

Bingle smiled, "I don't need to read the air, it makes itself clear."

Fenster ran a hand through his hair, it swooped to the side and froze that way. "A hot bath and a hot meal," He said to himself, trying to convince that nagging part of him.

"And since it is a rush job, maybe a new sword too." Bingle said, his smile like sharp knife.

Fenster's eyebrows went up.

~~~~

"--And since it is a rush job," Fenster said, seated at the table again "I'm going to have to demand a little extra."

"But you'll take the job?" Valencia said, her eyes lighting up.

Fenster nodded, smiling to her. She clapped her hands over his and looked into his eyes, "Thank you, gracious deviler, oh savior, oh--"

"Fenster," He said, cutting her off, "Will do just fine, thanks."

She nodded, "Fenster, then. Good luck on your journey."

"About that," He said, tapping an empty pouch tied at his side, "Any chance for an advanced payment?"

"Absolutely not" She said warmly.

"Fair." He said.

~~~~~~~

The massive draconic beast heaved its breaths heavy and slow, small wafts of smoke pouring from its nostrils. Fenster sat behind a nearby rock in the Wobyjack's cave, waiting patiently. Bingle grimaced at the deviler with increasing irritation.

"What," he said in a very soft voice so as to keep the ring-ting-tingle of his voice to a bare minimum, "Are you waiting for?"

Fenster continued to dress his equipment. Vials of elixir for speedy recovery, herbs to heighten senses, throwing daggers laced with moonsilver, some mints, and his trusty claymore given to him by his teacher just before he died. It was as valuable as it was heavy and a pain in the ass to wield. But, to use it to slay the creatures of darkness that plague the land was his promise to his late teacher. Another integral part of the Deviler’s Code. So he would do so.

"I have the benefit of surprise," Fenster said softly, "I am going to use every advantage I got."

The duo had arrived at the mountain cave late at night. As such, the wobyjack slumbered peacefully. And so it follows that Fenster had found a decent hiding spot to prepare his strike. Satisfied with his tools, he began preparation.

He drank a vial of devilweed spirits, which would increase his blood flow and make him faster and stronger as well as increase his endurance. He applied nightfang chalk markings over his eyes to grant him shielded sight, so as not to be blinded or fooled by illusions. Eating a dried drungo tail would thicken and toughen his skin so the raking claws of the wobyjack would not immediately disembowel him. And finally, a few mints cause all of that makes his breath really nasty and that could be distracting.

Buffed to the teeth, he gripped his blade with both hands and looked over the edge of the rock at the sleeping wobyjack. He slowed his breathing to match the beast. "Here goes."

Fenster charged the beast and roared a spell to life. Runes on the claymore lit up the cavern as he leapt into the air. The massive arc of his swing aimed for the beast's neck. The wobyjack, as with most dragonkin, noticed the deviler the moment he came out from behind the rock. It reared its head back and avoided the strike. However, still groggy from waking up, its momentum caused it to flop onto its back. Fenster pressed the attack, the element of surprise was still fresh and powerful but would only last for a precious few more moments. The wobyjack howled and sprayed a blast of fire, flailing and swiping with a massive barbed tail. The bright fire failed to blind the deviler and he managed to just barely tuck his body into a roll to avoid having his brains sent splattering to the cavern walls. Years of training at the deviler institute as well as his time in the deviler acting troupe had given him the skill to deftly dodge and look good doing it. He rolled to his feet and continued his charge, raising the blade to point the tip at the wobyjack's exposed underbelly.

A wobyjack has dangerously sharp scales everywhere on its body except for its belly, which has thick and tough hide. No mere blade could hope to carve a meaningful strike. However, Fenster's teacher's claymore was no mere blade, and the magic that currently ripped through it was no mere magic. As Fenster neared the tender gut meat, the wobyjack lunged its head to snap its jaws around the deviler. There would be no dodging this attack, and there would be no advantageous second strike. It was now or never. He lifted the blade up, raising the glowing claymore high over his head. The wobyjack brought its jaws down around the deviler. But instead of snapping like a twig, Fenster remained whole.

The drungo tail indeed helped his flesh, but above that, the rank taste of a man who had not bathed for weeks assaulted the enhanced draconic senses of the wobyjack. It was only for a moment that the beast retched, but it was just enough. With his raised arms free of the wobyjack's jaws, Fenster shouted a battle cry and brought the blade down on the beast's neck. The magic embedded within the Vorpal Sword came to life and cleanly split the neck from the body. The dragonkin's head seized in a fit of rigor mortis before everything became stillness and silence.

Bingle flittered out from behind the rock, "You did it!" He chimed.

Fenster grumbled and tried to pry the jaws open, "Thanks. Man this is stuck tight."

After succumbing to the knowledge that it wasn't going to loosen any time soon, he dragged himself and the head back to his supply bag and grabbed a small elixir meant to grant strength enough to carry multiple times ones own weight.

~~~~

Fenster dragged the cart, carrying a massive payload, through the draining streets of Dunk. He arrived at the shack from before, the wall had been repaired. The woman rushed out as she did before. She was wearing a tight-fitting dress with a deep slit cut to show her ample bosom, but still hint at modesty. She bounded up to him.

"And hast thou slain the wobyjack?" She cried, hands clasped together and eyes alight with joy. “Come, come inside,” She waved her hand to beckon him inside.

Within the shack, Fenster seated himself once more at the crate, Bingle sat upon the shelf. Upon the crate, Valencia set a small pouch before the deviler.

“Here you go, as promised. Thank you so much for your hard work.” She said.

“And the extra, for the rush job?” He said, smiling.

Valencia leaned forward onto her elbows, the cut in the dress revealing the lack of undergarments. “Perhaps we can make an arrangement?”

Fenster felt his eyes dip, but he knew that women were wily creatures. Full of cunning and breasts. He would not be so easily stoked, though the fire burning in him was most assuredly lust. That or the acid blood from the wobyjack had leaked into his armor at some point. With all his might, Fenster relied on his most formidable weapon, his charm.

“Now now,” He said, wagging a finger and smiling, “Business before pleasure.”

She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes before walking back to the shelf and grabbing a second pouch. She turned and tossed it to him. Fenster managed to catch it with one hand, looking mighty impressed with himself.

“There,” She said flatly, “We are finished here.”

“Pleasure doing business,” He said, “Now then, how about the business of pleasure?”

She smiled at him. A smile that wasn’t really a smile. More like a raging fire of irritation and barely masked wrath. Valencia said, “You smell like dragon blood and three week old shit.”

“Fair,” Fenster said. He pocketed the pouches and left the shack.

~~~~

“What a CHARMER,” Bingle said, laughing. More bells, you know the drill. “I nearly busted out loud when you tried the ‘business of pleasure’ line. Did you come up with that all on your own?”

“Stuff it,” Fenster said. He checked over his salary with a greedy countenance before cackling to himself. “Perfect, just enough to make the trip.”

Bingle’s smile dropped from his face and was replaced with a look of concern. “No, we’re not going to Trance, are we?”

Fenster sneered, “You bet your pretty fairy wings we are going to Trance! I’m gonna get a hot bath, a hot meal and the best damn sword Vurgle the Forgemaster can whip out!”

Bingle groaned and Fenster laughed and the two of them made their way to Trance, the city of glitter and glamour. 

~End~

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Reblog if you…

Liked something you wrote today.

Enjoyed writing whatever you wrote today.

Are eager to write the thing you’re supposed to write today.

Are proud to be a writer.

My favourite things about Scrivener

1. Navigation. You can see all your chapters, scenes, character & setting planning at one glance and switch between them very easily - compared to scrolling up and down in one long word processing document. Every file can also be a folder, so you can have collapsible items underneath it.

2. Word count targets. The “Project Targets” are particularly useful for NaNoWriMo so you don’t have to keep looking back at the website to see how you’re doing for the day, but more so outside of it, when you want to keep yourself working to a target but don’t have Nano’s charts and daily word counts. It also gives you a nice ding when you hit your session target.

3. How many pages? I only recently discovered this, but it’s very nice to be able to see in Project Statistics approximately how big your manuscript would be in pages without worrying about formatting. 

4. Outlining. Scrivener has two methods of outlining - one is Corkboard, which is exactly what it sounds like, a digital corkboard with notes pinned on it that represent your chapters/scenes with their summaries. The screenshot above is called ‘outliner’ and lists collapsible chapters/scenes with various statistics you can select as shown in the tick menu. Generally I prefer Corkboard, but Outliner is useful if you just want to see everything in a clear order. 

5. Full screen. I get distracted very easily when writing, so the full-screen writing mode is wonderful for me to avoid that - but you can still choose certain windows from the normal Scrivener view to show up. I have my targets and my summary, so I can stick to my plan when I’m writing and also see what progress I’m making.

6. Notes. No screenshot, but it’s a simple post-it note style box to the side of every document (chapter, scene, character etc.) that allows you to add notes. This may sound very simple, but it’s far more useful than I’d expected. During NaNoWriMo when I’m not meant to be editing at all, but I know something needs fixing, I will jot down something in the side like ‘Take out the horse’ so that when I go through again to edit I know exactly the things to focus on immediately but which would have taken too much time before. It’s linked to the scene so I don’t just have a pile of notes in one document at the end and then have to work out where it needs fixing.

Overall

I downloaded Scrivener for the first time two years ago, and now I can’t imagine working without it. It’s so nice to have the planning and the writing all combined into one place where I can easily switch between the two. I haven’t yet got as far in a novel created in Scrivener to use the compile features so I can’t comment on those, but so far all my experiences of it have been good.

One thing to note is that if transferring project between a Windows and a Mac version of Scrivener, it’s generally best to zip the file first.

[Screenshots from my current novel Kindling Ashes using the Mac version of Scrivener - some features may not be available in Windows yet.]

The Wreckers - Cashing In

Another round of thugly antics. Again, check out Puckarooni for her Pokemon Superhero AU. Cool jams, friendos.

Alolan Joe - Alolan Ratata Leader and self proclaimed mousestache afficianado

Ben - Spearow Brawn of the group of Bachelor of Thuganomics

Zach - Zigzagoon Dunno what he’s doing, but he’s doing it well

Sherman - Sentret Newbie, but he makes up for it with heart

~~~~~

Zach handed the sturdy box to Ben, who nodded and set it in the center of the table in the backroom of the Thrifty. He crammed the edge of the crowbar under the lip of the metal lid.

“Alright, you got it, Sherbet?” Ben said to Sherman, who took hold of the bottom of the box.

“Sherbet?” Sherman said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Said Ben, inclining his head down. “You. Got. It?” He held a stern face.

“Uh,” Sherman adjusted his grip and help tight. “Yeah, I got it, Be–uh. Bu…,” He looked around the thrifty and his eyes settled on a row of candies. “Bu–ttercup?” He looked back to Ben.

Zach snorted from the couch he had plopped down on. Ben shook his head, “You got a lot to learn, rookie.” He squared his shoulders, “Just, hold onto the damn thing.”

“Yes sir,” Said Sherman, his punctured ego dedicating itself to his task.

Ben worked at the crowbar, prying a little more of the lid back and setting the crowbar deeper. Once he was satisfied, he gave the crowbar a swift jerk that popped the edge of the lid off. The shrapnel flew across the room. Joe stepped into the doorway with impeccable timing.

“Gentlemen, I- Gah!” Joe squeaked as he narrowly missed the chunk of metal box that zipped past him.

“Oh, I see now. So it has come to this,” Joe straightened up and put up his fists. “Mutiny. I knew this day would come. But you’ll have to best me in combat, fiends. Come on then, let’s do this!” Joe began to hop around, waving his fists in front of him.

Sherman popped up, “Whoa wait! It was an accident, Boss. We were just trying to–”

“Finally,” Ben said, shouldering his crowbar, “Been waiting for a chance to knock that cheesy smirk off your face.” 

Ben charged at Joe, swinging the crowbar down towards Joe’s head. In a flash, Joe brought up his hands to catch the blow, the two locked eyes and grit their teeth.

“Oh, Heck Yeah!” Sherman said, eyes sparkling. He scurried over to the couch and hopped into the spot next to Zach. “This is gonna be epic. Don’t you think?”

Zach shrugged, “Maybe.”

Joe and Ben tussled for a bit. They wrestled and rolled and tumbled, finishing with Joe having taken the crowbar from Ben.

Joe pointed the crowbar at Ben, who crouched on the ground catching his breath.

“Will you yield?” Joe said.

“Yeah yeah,” Ben said, bruised ego kinda killing the mood. “I will honor the code of the thug and serve your blah blah blah.”

“Perfect,” Joe said and tossed the crowbar back to him. “Whew, almost got me that time.”

Ben caught the crowbar and stood up, “Oh blow me sideways, bristles. You hold back every time.” He scoffed out his nose and went back to the table. “Hey, Sherbet, we opening this thing or what?”

Sherman, stars in his eyes got up from the couch, “You guys are so cool. Like, when you were like, ‘Whapam! Take that’ but then Joe just did that thing where he, you know, just ‘Whoosh, bam!’ and you went flying and…” He flailed his arms. Zach leaned away to allow Sherman room to embellish.

“That’s enough, Sherman.” Joe said, “What are you opening anyway?”

“Dunno, Zach found it in the junkyard and couldn’t open it.” Sherman said “He even did his–” He wiggled his fingers and flip flopped his wrists. “Stuff.”

Zach also wiggled his fingers and then shrugged.

Joe stroked his ‘stache, “A rather tricky treasure trove, it would–” He paused, “t-uh, tantamount to tremendous tantalizing trophies for this team.” He smiled at his cleverness.

Ben scoffed, “You are such a dork.” He glared at Sherman. “Come on, hold this sucker down before I use this crowbar to vent all that hot air in your head.”

Sherman hustled over and gripped the box again. Ben got the edge into the lid again and gave it a adrenaline-fueled push. The lid peeled back like a tuna can and revealed the contents within. Ben tossed the crowbar aside as they all gathered to peek inside the box.

“Oh,” Said Zach with a neutral voice.

“Whoa,” Said Sherman with a hint of wonder.

“Hmm,” Murmured Joe, contemplating.

“Oh, goodie. More junk.” Ben said, his shoulders slumping down.

“What? This isn’t junk,” Sherman reached inside and pulled out a handful of the contents. Play cards. A bunch of them, haphazardly scattered inside the box. They had colorful pictures of monsters on one side and a big logo plastered on the other. “Don’t you remember Pouch Gremlins? For the Game Lad?”

Joe snapped his fingers, “Ha, I knew they looked familiar.” He took a few of the cards out of the box. “I used to play a shared copy of Powgrem with my brothers and sisters way back when.” He started flipping through the cards. Zach also began to dig through the contents of the box.

“Feh,” Ben said looking over the couple that Sherman had fished out, “That baby game about little kids making friends with super powered monsters and battling them. All the designs looked so lame.” His sharp eyes landed on a shiny card in Sherman’s hand, he snatched it and nodded. “Except this guy. He was awesome.”

Joe and Sherman looked at the card. Sherman smiled, “Oh yeah, Psycat. The legendary survivor of psychic experiments. The lore said that he was a loner Powgrem who killed off his old master. Pretty dark stuff.”

“Yeah, super edgy and took no shit. I liked him.” Ben said.

“My favorite was the one you could start out with, Grassasaurus Rex!” Sherman said, pulling out the relevant card, “His solar cannon attack was unbeatable!” He looked to Joe, “Oh, who was your favorite, Joe?”

Joe dug into the box and nodded, pulling out another shiny card, “This one.” He held it up, “The trickmaster, Ghostgar.” He laughed, “When I would play against my siblings, they would actually ban me from using him cause he was too good.”

“How about you, Zach?” Sherman asked, “Did you have a favorite?”

Zach was organizing the cards by color and rarity. Without looking up from his work, he muttered, “Yup.”

Joe chuckled. Sherman pressed on, “Such as…?”

Zach paused, looked over the stacks of cards before grabbing out a fairly common looking card and holding it up. “This guy.”

“Oh,” Sherman said, a little disappointed, “I guess Joltling is pretty popular.” He looked back to Joe, “I mean, it was the mascot of the series.”

Joe nodded and regarded the box again. “Hmm…what do you suppose these were doing in such a secure box?”

Ben scoffed, “Loser probably wanted to hide his shame when he moved on to something better.” He was gathering up all the copies of Psycat and silently judging the edginess of each one.

Sherman looked at the box, “Maybe they were special and he wanted to keep them safe?”

Zach finished sorting and stacking and said, “Resale.”

Joe, Ben and Sherman all looked up, struck by the idea.

Joe caught it first. “How much do you think these cards are worth?”

Ben smirked, “I hear things get more valuable over time, if you collect enough.”

“And look at all of these shinies.” Said Sherman, “They’ve gotta be worth a fortune.”

“Zach, gather up those little treasures,” Joe said, stroking his mouse-stache, “We’re headed to town!”

Ben and Sherman cheered, Zach packed the cards away.

“Gentlemen,” Joe said, “Let’s go make some money.”

…

“50 bucks?” Ben said incredulously. “Are you serious?”

He leaned over the counter of the hobby shop, making the cashier back away slightly. From behind the counter, he gave his big, friendly, Snorlax smile, “Yup, 100 even. Pretty—impressive collection, though.” He said through a yawn. “So, will that be cash or store credit?”

Joe managed to pry Ben away from the counter. “Uh, excuse my friend here. I am pretty certain there were quite a number of rare cards in there. Surely they would fetch a handsome price?”

The cashier shrugged, “Maybe a bit ago, but not anymore.” He turned in his swivel chair and grabbed another box of cards. “Everyone’s moved on to Data Goblins.” He showed them the box. Though the designs were slightly different, it seemed like the exact same game. “People just aren’t buying Powgrem anymore.” He set the box back, “So, 50.” He smiled again.

Ben wrestled out of Joe’s grip and got uncomfortably close to the cashier. “Listen, tubby, how about you grease these pockets before I grease up your face?”

The cashier held his smile and opened one of his eyes just enough to glare at Ben. The sight sent a chill down the young thug’s spine. “Fifty. Dollars. Even.”

…

Ben and Joe shuffled out of the hobby shop.

“Hey guys,” Sherman said, hustling up to them. “How’d it go?”

Joe looked at Ben, who scoffed, “Waste of time.” He looked away and folded his arms.

Zach and Sherman looked at Joe. Joe pulled the 50 dollars out of his pocket.

“Oh,” Said Sherman. Zach gave a resigned shake of the head.

“Well, you win some, you lose some.” Joe said. “But I still think 50 dollars for free is a win.” He smiled.

Sherman nodded, “Still, it would have been nice to at least keep–”

Zach zipped around in front of him and held up the Grassasaurus Rex card. “Here.”

Sherman lit up and took the card, “No way, you held onto my favorite. You’re the best.”

Zach shrugged and walked around to the other two members and held up their favorite cards.

“You sly devil,” Joe said, taking the card and slipping it into his pocket. “Should have known.”

Ben snatched his card, “What the heck? Isn’t this thing super rare? We might have gotten more cash for this.” He glared at Zach, who returned with an indifferent quirk of the eyebrow.

Joe nudged him, “You’re welcome to head back inside to trade it in.”

Ben looked back at the shop, then down to his Psycat. “Yeah, never mind. Psycat is too cool for that.” He also tucked the card into his pocket.

Zach also tucked a card into his pocket. The picture looked like a Joltling, but was a little off. It appeared as though it was merely wearing a Joltling costume…

---

Hey guys! As a writer myself, it’s hard to have a lot of resources for writing in one place. That’s why I decided to create this masterpost, and maybe make more if I find future resources. I hope you like it, and expect to see more masterposts like this in the future!

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Dialogue Generator

Journey Generator

Title Generator, (II), (III)

Some Tips

Just a few I found from the writing tips tag!

Writing action / @berrybird

How to create a strong voice in your writing / @collegerefs

How to plot a complex novel in one day! / @lizard-is-writing

8 ways to get past writer’s block / @kiramartinauthor

psa for writers / @dasakuryo

”Write Using Your 5 Senses” / @ambientwriting

How People Watching Improves Your Writing / @wherethetransthingsare

Writing Science Fiction: Tips for Beginners / @fictionwritingtips

Creating Likeable Characters / @authors-haven

Vocabulary

Descriptive words / @somekindofstudent

Words to replace “Said” / @msocasey

Obscure color words / @mintsteelpeachlilac

Words to spice up your stories / @busyibee

Words to describe someone’s voice

Words to Use Instead of Very / @gaybybirth

Touchy Feely Words / @gaybybirth

Some Advice

Stephen King’s Top 20 Rules for Writers

”But my plot isn’t UNIQUE or BIG enough!” / @youreallwrite

8 Things Every Creative Should Know / @adamjk

(How To) Get Over Comparing Yourself to Other Creatives / @adamjk

How to Get Over Common Creative Fears (Maybe) / @adamjk

14 Tips From Stephen King On Writing / @i-can-give-you-prompts

Playlists

Electronic Thoughts / @eruditekid

“Mix About Writing” An Instrumental Mix / @shadowofemirates

Shut Up, I’m Writing! / @ninadropdead

Chill / @endlessreveries

Breathtaking Film Scores / @tweedskirts

Music to Write to Vol. 1: Starlight / @crestadeen

Music for Written Words / @ghoulpatch

Dead Men Tell No Tales / @scamandersnewt

Fatale / @dolcegf

All These Things that I’ve Done / @referenceforwriters

Feeling Soaking into Your Bones / @verylondon

I Can Feel Your Pulse in the Pages / @rphelper

Morally Ambiguous / @scamandersnewt

Wonderwall / @wheelerwrites

Pythia / @mazikeene

Ballet: To Dance / @tanaquil

Websites and Apps

For Writing

ZenPen: A minimalist writing website to keep you free of distractions and in the flow.

The Most Dangerous Writing App: A website where you have to keep typing or all of your writing will be lost. It helps you keep writing…kind of. You can choose between a time or word count limit!

Evernote: An online website where you can take notes and save the product to your laptop and/or smartphone!

Writer, the Internet Typewriter: It’s just you and your writing, and you can save your product on the website if you create an account.

Wordcounter: A website to help check your word and character count, and shows words you’re using frequently.

Monospace: An Android app for writing on the go when you feel the inspiration, but you don’t have your laptop on you!

For Productivity

Tide: An app that combines a pomodoro-esque timer with nature sounds and other noises! (Google Play / Apple Store)

ClearFocus: An Android app with a pomodoro-type time counter to let you concentrate easier and stay productive.

Forest: An app with a time counter to keep you focused and off your phone, and when you complete the time limit, a tree grows in your garden! (Google Play / Apple Store)

SelfControl: A Mac downloadable app that blocks you from distracting mail servers, websites, and other things!

Prompt Blogs

@writeworld

@dialouge-prompts

@oopsprompts

@prompts-for-the-otp

@creativepromptsforwriting

@the-modern-typewriter

@theprofessionalpromptmaker

@writers-are-writers

@otp-imagines-cult

@witterprompts

@havetobememes

@auideas

@putthepromptsonpaper

@promptsonpaper

@fyotpprompts

@otpisms

@soprompt

@otpprompts

@ablockforwritersblock

@awritersnook

Writing Tips Blogs

@writeworld

@anomalously-written

@awritersnook

@clevergirlhelps

@referenceforwriters

@whataboutwriting

@thewritershelpers

@nimblesnotebook

@slitheringink

The Evening PokeNews

Good Evening and Welcome to the 11 o’clock PokeNews

I’m Chet Pokenews with the PokeNews.

A recent string of poverty has been sweeping the Alola region. Trainers are be drained of all their necent funds after encountering a particular trainer currently on her Island Challenge. We talked with local residents who met with the child.

Punk Girl- “I dunno what came over me, I just saw that Lycanroc start to party and I got caught up in the atmosphere. Before I knew it I had handed over more money than I even thought I had on me at the time.”

Madam- “It was holding something shiny, like a coin, and I just thought it was so adorable that when I lost I just emptied out my purse.”

Aether Foundation Employee- “I lost my life savings, pension, and even the paycheck I was on my way to cash. That child is a menace!”

We managed to catch up with Professor Kukui, alleged relation of this Alolan newcomer, to get his comment.

Kukui- “Hey, sometimes you just get a Dizzy Punch to the Body Slam, and when you Agility, it Bug Buzz your Tackle Aerial Ace Flamethrower. Yeah, Cousin?”

Kukui’s lab assistants report that the child is currently in possession of a special Rotom Dex which can induce even great financial prosperity upon victory in pokemon battle. If you see this trainer *posts image of passport picture with vacant eyes gazing into the camera* do not make eye contact as it will ignite our ancient tradition of challenging one another to a pokemon battle no matter the circumstances. Be on your guard and stay safe.

When we return, Aether Foundation President Lusamine has an announcement on a recent project to disappear to an alternate dimension AND current Malasada trends. Stay Tuned.

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me, as a supervillain: we are not so different, you and I…

hero, struggling against their bonds: That’s not true! I’m nothing like you!

me, rolling out several whiteboards filled with diagrams and charts: No, it’s literary foiling. See? I’ve been very careful about this.

hero: Why? Why are you doing all this?

me, cackling: You fool! For thematic consistency, of course! Now prepare to metaphorically reconcile with your father figure!

Day 3 - Bait

Prompt: Bait

Title: Take the bait

The media had gathered for the weigh-ins for each competitor. Massive rigs designed to accurately measure the monstrous competitors, constructed from modified shipping cranes. It was here that the press could get their first look at the opponents and read their energies. Most of the time, it was a noble meeting between two strong warriors. Like the two stepping off the scales now. Cassidy Quake slipped his ARMORFLEX T-Shirt on to take a promotional shot with his newest challenger. The two flexed and traded confident smiles. The cameras flashed, and they went their separate ways.

Simple, civil, easy.

But such is not always the case. And certainly not for the next competitor.

Raptor strut out to the weigh-in stage. The newcomer had struck the scene like a comet, showering the KFL scene with glittery drama and chaos. His massive jacket, covered in rhinestones that spelled out his name, trailing behind him, he sauntered up to his rig. He raised his fists in the air.

“Hello, losers.” He called out and ran a hand through the spines on his head, made up to look like a radioactive mohawk.

Opposite him, his opponent entered. The hot-headed Rawhide was a barbaric minotarus fighter, known for the merciless beatdown of his opponents. He saw the bedazzled Raptor and gave an agitated grunt.

They stripped down and stepped on their scales. A number tumbler hanging over each scale clacked out their individual weight. In order to brawl at the Monstrous weight class, they had to make it under a certain weight. When the numbers finally stopped, the officiator at the center of the stage squinted at Rawhide’s total. He shook his head. The bullheaded kaiju growled through gritted teeth, glaring at the official.

“Aww, what a shame.” Raptor said, shaking his head, “Maybe ya’ll oughta keep off them barbecues, pahrdner.” He put enough drawl into his words that his jaw threatened to slack off his head.

Rawhide glanced down at his gut, but in doing so, spotted the scaly tail pressing down on his scale. The offending limb whipped back to Raptor’s side, and he glanced around innocently.

The officiating security robos shifted from their stations to get within tackling range of the kaiju fighter that was visibly shaking from bottled rage. But the hot-headed fighter had been warned of the prodding of opponents and slowly counted in his head to calm his emotions. The bots stepped back.

Rawhide settled back on the scale and heaved a hot breath through his nose. The officiator jotted down the correct weight and nodded to the competitors.

Raptor watched Rawhide regain control of his emotions and frowned to himself. He’d need something to push his opponent over the edge. One last push. He didn’t want to have to dig this deep. But he’d be damned if he was going to try and take on this guy without an edge.

The two competitors faced off for the photo op. Within intimate distance of Rawhide, Raptor gave a cocky smirk and said, just quietly enough for his opponent to hear.

“Say, is your daughter still single?”

Everything happened in an instant. Rawhide roared in rage and drew his giant, meaty fist back. The security bots pounced on the fighter. The resounding sound of meat on steel clattered through the weigh-in stage. The security bots struggled to hold the rage beast in place. Rawhide’s shaking fist mere inches from Raptor’s smug grin. The reptilian fighter, for his part, had not shifted an inch at the attack. He turned and left the stage while the security bots struggled to keep the flailing, wailing, raging fighter from going totally off the rails. The media trolls would have a field day with this chaos, as they usually did with Raptor’s antics.

In the prep room set up beside the weigh-in stage, Raptor confidently stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him.

“How’d it go, tough guy?” His coach, a giant mothman, asked.

Raptor turned back to face him, then promptly let his knees give out as he collapsed to the floor. He put a hand to his chest, feeling his heart rapidly pounding against his chest. He fought to get his breathing under control. 

“Just as planned,” Raptor said at last. He struggled but managed to put a smirk on his face, “He took the bait.”

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