Weasel Water Lou Of The Peace In Carlos

Weasel Water Lou of the Peace in Carlos - 7

Esse awoke to the rock people again. They were shoving some sort of liquid dirt in her mouth. It tasted a lot like pinecones. It wasn’t delightful. Esse was really sore from spending the night tied up and buried in the ground.

The rock people picked her up again and carried her to a mountain of sticks. They carried Esse up the mountain. At the top of the mountain there was a hole. “Uh-oh.” Esse said. The rock people danced around a little bit. Then they backed up, ran, and tossed Esse into the hole. “Yep.” she said to herself as she fell. “I was expecting that.”

Kennen was really worried. Was Esse okay? He could tell Luc was worried too because he kept fidgeting. When Ursula Kinns finally took the force field down, Luc rushed for the door.

“No.” Ursula Kinns said. “You can go in soon. After she gets buried.” “Buried?!” Luc yelled. “Esse is going to get buried!?” “Why, yes.” Ursula Kinns answered calmly. Luc and Ursula Kinns continued to quarrel.

Kennen edged slowly toward the door. Maybe he could escape and save Esse. But everything was interrupted by a loud banging coming from the very door Esse had gone through. Ursula Kinns and Luc stopped quarreling.

“Open up!” a gruff voice said. Nobody answered. Multiple people started banging on the door. Until it was finally was opened. By none other than Ursula Kinns, who immediately teleported somewhere far, far away. So Kennen and Luc were left alone amidst a swarm of Carlosians.

Kennen knew Luc had been caught because of the howling he made. “Hush, victim.” one of the men said. Luc continued to fight. There was the sound of gunfire, and a howl of pain as Luc fell to the ground. The gruff men gathered around the dead bear. There was some conflict, and they started trying to murder each other.

A knife zipped right by Kennen’s head. Kennen made his escape by whispering “Ursula Kinns.” at the door and slipping through it. Esse would understand why he hadn’t saved Luc - right?

Esse was falling so fast, she had no idea what landed on her until it started talking. “Esse!” Kennen said. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” Esse answered. “Where’s Luc?” “Carlosians came to the door, and Ursula Kinns let them in and then vanished! They took Luc but they didn’t see me.” Kennen explained.

“What?!” Esse yelled. “No!” As Kennen silently broke the ropes that held her, Esse cried and cried and cried. “He could be killed!” she wailed frequently. Kennen did his best to soothe her.

After Esse was all out of tears, Kennen shared an idea. “How about I fly ahead and see if we’re close to ground yet?” he suggested. “Okay.” Esse agreed. “But come right back.”

Kennen dove downward but saw nothing. Esse caught up with him. “Is that you?” Esse asked, as Kennen landed on her shoulder. It was so dark now that she couldn’t tell.

“Yes, it’s me.” Kennen answered. “I didn’t see anything.” No one spoke as Esse sniffled and wiped away her tears. And then they were silent. But soon, ground came in view. It was rather hard looking…

“Quick!” Kennen said. “Turn me into something bigger!” Esse said something and Kennen was no longer a butterfly, but a bluebird now.

“That’ll do.” Kennen said. Then he dove ahead. As Kennen was diving, a voice from below yelled something, and Kennen began to grow and grow until he was bigger than Esse herself. Esse hit Kennen hard. He wrapped his wings around her. Then they hit the ground.

Weasel Water Lou of the Peace in Carlos - 4

When Esse picked herself up, all was quiet and dark. Not even gunfire could be heard. It was also quite cold. “Luc? Luc?” Esse hissed. Esse felt a furry hand on her arm.

Esse snuggled up to Luc. He was usually warm, but even Luc was cold in the little room. Esse heard rats scurrying around in the dark shadows. A cold dark voice sounded nearby. “Which one of you is skilled in the art of nymph stories?” it asked. Esse let go of Luc as he stood up. “It-it was me. I knew the nymph stories.” he said. “You knew the stories of Queen Frida’s Dogs and Jennifer and Clara?” the voice asked.

“My-my parents helped me on Jennifer and Clara.” Luc stammered. All was quiet. A small chuckle sounded from the voice. “Don’t hurt them!” Luc cried. “And don’t hurt Esse either!”

Esse felt her cheeks turn red with embarrassment, but she was glad that Luc had said that. “I see.” the voice said. “Come here.”

“No.” Luc responded. “You are a stubborn little bear, are you not?” the voice chuckled.

“And what are you?” Esse asked, standing up too.

“Me? I am something you have never heard of, something you may one day wish to have, but will deny wanting right now.” the voice said mysteriously.

“And what is that?” Esse asked, crossing her arms defensively.

“I will tell you later, child. Now, let us see what you want.” the voice said.

“We want a way out of The Peace in Carlos. It is shrinking because for the Carlosians.” Esse told the voice.

“Ah, yes. The Running War, as they call it here.” the voice mused. “And how may I help you with that?”

“Can you answer a question?” Luc asked.

“It depends on the question.” the voice sang out.

“Is this house a gateway out of Carlos and The Peace in Carlos?”

The voice chuckled. “I’m glad you asked.” it said. “Look upon the door.” At once a flickering light lit the wall in front of Esse. A door was set into it the wall. It was made of steel and covered in strange symbols that definitely were not nymph writing.

“This, my children,” said the voice. “is the gateway to another world. To reach it, you must answer this question: What is my name?” And then Esse and Luc were no longer in the room. They were both standing under the window to Johnson & Johnson. The window was placed in it’s socket.

“Wow.” Esse said. It certainly was strange. “Did that even happen?”

“Yes.” Luc said certainly. “It must have. We meet tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Esse agreed. And they went their separate ways.

That night, Esse rushed to the museum. With her family asleep, she could go where she pleased. Esse thought back to when she wished she could enter an adventure. And here she was, in an adventure. She had decided to go back to the invisible house and locate the source of the voice. Esse didn’t know where Luc lived, so she couldn’t ask him to come along. Right?

Outside the Johnson & Johnson recreation, Esse took a running leap at the window. It popped out of the frame, and Esse took another running leap to get a hold of the frame to pull herself through the window. It was much harder without Luc.

Rushing to the little room with Weasel Water Lou’s painting in it, she licked her finger and entered Carlos. Once in Carlos, Esse rushed down the stairs to the room with the voice. Gunfire still sounded through the Carlosian streets even though it was late at night. She put her hand on the door. “Lucjusz Yu Iflandoonia and Quer Ty Iflandoonia.” Esse whispered. The door gave way. She stepped slowly into the dark room.

Maybe the voice wouldn’t notice. “Welcome back, Esse.” the voice said. “I’ve been waiting for you.” But the voice heard her anyway.

“I’m here to decode the door.” Esse said bravely. The light illuminated the door again. Esse knelt in front of the door. She ran her fingers along the symbols as if she could read it like braille. And Esse could. The symbols and their meanings blinked and buzzed inside her head. She murmured the meanings out loud. “Max… Nora… Nils… Su-Li… Ursula… Anica… Liesl.”

“Yes.” the voice murmured. “And who wrote that story?” Esse shuddered. But she knew the answer. She had to answer. “No one wrote the story. It is a true story.” Esse answered.

“And what is the title?” the voice asked, almost in a whisper.

“Queen Gretchen’s Choice.” Esse let out in a breath. And then she was no longer in the small room.

Everything was dark. All around was dark. There was no sky or ground. Esse was in dark, and only dark. She was floating in darkness. Suddenly, a movie seemed to play in front of her. A man and a woman at a wedding. The women was Nora. The man was Max. But there was just one thing. Max was a bear.

The scene changed. Nora and Max were now adopting a child. Two children. Two Earthen children. The African boy was Nils, and the Asian girl was Su-Li. The scene changed. And this time, there was another baby. This was no adoption. This was a real baby, one that Nora had given birth to. But the baby was strange. The baby was half human, and half bear. And then Esse was falling, falling. And everything was dark.

Rose Otterton

Illustration courtesy of Teepi Guest

Writing ship-able couples

Here are some tips for writing relationships your readers can get behind:

1. Give them reasons to click

The two characters must have things in common - a hobby, a philosophy, a background. There has to be some element that connects them.

Your readers will root for relationships in which the characters fit together better than they would with others.

Also, make their traits compatible. Have them share some characteristics or have their strengths and weaknesses be complementary. Is the one hotheaded? Maybe the other keeps their cool well in situations of conflict.

There are endless possibilities. Just make sure there’s a reason these two people like/love each other.

2. Have them be vulnerable in front of each other

Personally, this is the best way to get me to love a couple.

Have them share secrets, open up about their feelings and tell each other things they haven’t told anyone. Have them cry in front of each other and comfort each other.

This can be taken to a whole new level by having them understand the other’s emotions even without speaking and already offer comfort. Keep in mind that this will probably only be possible with long-established couples.

And having them open up is also a great way for them to discover all the things they have in common/love about each other.

3. Build up the tension

I cannot emphasise this enough: DO NOT MAKE YOUR COUPLES GET TOGETHER TOO QUICKLY.

One of the best elements of a romantic subplot (or even main plot) is the tension. Your readers want to see the pining! They want the build-up.

And no, I’m not saying that you should introduce endless, petty obstacles. That can become tedious and appear forced.

Just give your characters time to sort through their feelings. Make them fall in love slowly. Have them be unsure. Insert SOME obstacles/conflicts.

Have them almost kiss a few times. Not all the time. Too many almost-kisses can become frustrating. But you should throw a few in there.

And, if you feel comfortable with it, add some sexual tension. Have them notice each other’s bodies and imagine what they’d like to do to each other (that sounds more explicit than I intended :) )

4. Write a healthy relationship

This could just be me and my rejection of unhealthy romances, but I will not root for abusive relationships.

Have your characters be kind to each other, support each other and truly care for each other.

If your characters are constantly putting each other down, physically/emotionally abusing each other or going against the other’s wishes, they’re not in a healthy relationship.

A great way to write a healthy relationship whilst still maintaining the tension, is to have the conflict in the relationship be external. Instead of having the conflict be due to internal struggles between the two characters, have obstacles enter from outside.

Your readers should want them to be together and for that, they should be good for each other.

5. Have their friends/family see their chemistry

I find it beyond adorable when two characters are still figuring out their feelings for each other, but the fact that they’re perfect for each other is crystal clear to everyone around them.

Have their friends tease them about the relationship. Have family members ask after the them. Have their loved ones conspire to get them to admit their feelings.

If your other characters are rooting for them, your readers will probably do so as well.

Plus, this means that the chemistry between the two characters is so strong that it’s obvious, which is always good for an exciting romance.

That’s all I’ve got for now. If you have any further questions about writing OTPs or any other aspect of writing, feel free to message me or pop me an ask.

Reblog if you found any of this useful. Comment with your own tips. Follow me for similar content.

Breton Wager - 2

After the Christian’s declaration, Breton lost control of the time and was yanked back to Math class. He hit the chair with an, “Oof!” A girl behind him gave him a look, and then continued punching numbers into her calculator. The bell rang, and it was time to pay attention.

Breton turned to the front of the room to watch the teacher. Mr. Brown crossed to the center of the room with great purpose.

“Today! We shall be learning the equation to time travel! Singular One! Let us begin!” Mr. Brown executed every word with a flourish.

Breton decided he no longer wanted to sit through this and with a wink of his eye, slipped out of time.

Breton began to walk towards 9:08, when free period began. He made it halfway down the hallway when he felt the pain hit his head again. What was he doing in Math class? Well, he would know soon enough. He began making his way to the auditorium.

“I suppose you think you’re too good for Math class, then,” the Christian’s voice floated to Breton’s ears, the Christian floating behind it. “You’re such a special time walker, you don’t need to sit through time travel equations.”

Breton wasn’t sure why, but he found himself waiting for the Christian to catch up with him.

“Well?” the Christian asked, reaching Breton’s shoulder. “Are we feeling special this morning?”

“I already know the equation for time travel,” Breton explained as be continued to progress to 9:08.

The Christian followed him closely. “You know, other people would know it too if they were born with special abilities like you, Breton!” he replied derisively.

“I could tell them if they asked,” Breton offered.

“I could tell them if they asked,” the Christian mocked.

Breton reached 9:08 and snapped back into time. The smack of his return caused him to stumble somewhat down the auditorium stairs.

“Breton!”

Two children Breton’s age, his two friends, were the only people in the otherwise empty auditorium. Nashaadh and Rose waved as Breton made his way towards them.

“There you are!” Rose exclaimed. “We were going to start without you!”

“Rose was going to start without you,” Nashaadh clarified. “I would have waited.”

“What were you going to start without me?” Breton asked.

“We’re making posters with things like, Don’t Touch the Lighting Equipment and stuff like that,” Rose answered.

“Since I’m the Backstage Manager and no one else does anything useful around here,” Nashaadh sighed resignedly, picking up a stack of poster paper.

“Hey! I help!” Rose complained. “Look! I brought markers!”

“I know you help, Rosie. And Breton does, too,” Nashaadh quelled Rose. “Thanks, by the way, both of you. Neither of you are even on stage crew.”

“We were hoping you could do the drawings,” Rose said to Breton. “‘Cause you’re good at that kinda thing.”

Rose handed Breton the markers and placed the poster paper in his hands. Nashaadh headed backstage.

“I only draw with pens and ink,” Breton spoke.

“Oh! Well! Mr. Special over here!” Rose cried out. “Only draws with pens!”

Breton was reminded of something.

“Rose! Calm down!” Nashaadh said orderly, returning from backstage with a box full of costumery. “Breton, I’m sure there are some pens in the Art room I can go find for you.”

“The equation for time travel is ((0 − 273.15) × 95 + 32)K + T over 1s(D) times SE,” Breton declared. Nashaadh and Rose stopped what they were doing and looked at him.

“Um, thank you, Breton, but . . . why, I mean, we already know that . . . I can get you some pens, if you want,” Nashaadh spoke uncertainty, placing the box of costumes on the floor of the stage.

“Yeah, because Nashaadh’s mother invented the equation for time travel,” Rose shared loudly.

“Rose, hush,” Nashaadh muttered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go get Breton some pens from the Art room.”

“What? Why me?” Rose whined. “It just started getting interesting!”

“Rose, please,” Nashaadh asked of him.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Rose gave in, jumping off the stage and making his way up the auditorium stairs. “But you guys better not start without me!”

The auditorium door slammed behind Rose as he exited the room.

Nashaadh took a seat on the edge of stage and gestured for Breton to sit beside her. He did.

“Breton,” she stated. “Are you alright?”

“I’m being haunted by a B- Art project,” Breton shared with his cousin. There was a pause as Nashaadh looked off into the distance.

“Out of time?” she asked.

Breton nodded.

“Do you want to talk to my mother about it?”

There was another pause as Breton looked off into the distance.

“Not yet,” Breton decided.

“Okay,” Nashaadh finished.

There was a silence.

The auditorium door slammed. “I’m back!” Rose announced. “And I brought lots of pens!”

Poor Margret - 2

Esse and Kennen were two minutes early. They waited in the lobby. Kennen flew around the room, picking up falling stars that had fallen from the top of The Meadow of Nimm overnight. Esse created little constellations on the table. After a little while, Sir Anerapell, (directly translated meaning Sun Spirit Guy with the Moonish Nose) flounced into the room. He grinned at Kennen and Esse, his glowing blonde hair and crescent nose almost scaring them out of their wits. “I will be escorrrrting you through the palace!” Sir Anerapell told them in his squeaky high-pitched Decneleb accent. He grinned even wider. “O-kay.” Esse stammered. Kennen was too freaked out to say anything at all. A man came around from behind Sir Anerapell. “This is Sir Neeeeeek the sixtthhhhhhh.” Sir Anerapell hissed at them. (Directly translated, Nek means Great Life, but Lacking Creativity of Death) Sir Nek VI was an old, old, old, old, old, old man, having never died before. Sir Anerapell grinned again. “We shall now begin our tourrrr, shall weeee?” he prompted.

The tour was no fun for Kennen. He had to perch on Sir Anerapell’s finger, while he flounced and gestured wildly around the room. Kennen knew Esse wasn’t having fun either. She had a look of disgust and terror on her face, having been made to let Sir Nek VI escort her down the halls. Finally, they reached the room marked WEASEL WATER LOU, SECRETARY TO MASTER CAMERON AND MISTRESS AMELIA. Flouncing into the room, Sir Anerapell showed Esse the writing on door to the left of the room. On the door it read ESSE IFLANDOONIA, ASSISTANT SECRETARY TO MASTER CAMERON AND MISTRESS AMELIA. Esse’s office was quite nice. The walls were ice-like glass, as well as the floor and ceiling. Non-melting icicles hung from the ceiling. A snow-like rung lay across the floor. That was when something very strange happened. Sir Nek VI lifted Esse off her feet and dropped her on the snow-like rug. This was too much for Esse, who shuddered, rolled her eyes back in her head, and fainted. Kennen shuddered. Sir Anerapell grinned, flouncing toward the door marked KENNEN DAMANEL PASTAMAKER, ASSISTANT TO THE ASSISTANT SECRETARY TO MASTER CAMERON AND MISTRESS AMELIA. Opening the door, Kennen took in his new office. The white walls looked like a small child had scribbled on them, using lots of different colors. The ceiling was green, and had two eyes that were blinking down at Kennen. On the bright yellow floor was a red rug shaped like the letter R, on which Kennen was dropped. And then the tour guides were gone. This was the end of the tour.

Kennen rushed into Esse’s office. She was lying on the snow-rug, still unconscious. “Esse,” Kennen whispered, nudging Esse’s arm. “Wake up! They’re gone!” Esse moaned and rolled over. “Where am I?” Esse asked, sitting up.

“In your new office.” Kennen told her. Esse nodded. “Yeah, I was kind of, um, paralyzed with terror when Sir Nec-m VI brought me in here.” she explained. Kennen nodded. “I noticed.” he said.

“But, I guess we should be going now, so, let’s go.” Esse got up and strolled over to her desk. “Look at this.” she said, picking up a sheet of paper. Kennen flew over. “It’s a map.” he observed. “The tour guides must have dropped it.”

“Look!” Esse said, pointing at the map. “There’s Orderder Gemma’s room!” Kennen looked. In small letters, a sighed read ORDERER GEMMA ELIZABETH, 5TH DAUGHTER TO MASTER CAMERON AND MISTRESS AMELIA. “Let’s go say hello!” Esse said, dashing out of the room. “Wait!” Kennen called, flying after her. They went down many halls until they reached a door marked ROYAL RESIDENCE: IMPORTANT PERSONAL ONLY. “We’re important.” Esse said, pushing open the door and rushing in. “Not until Wednesday.” Kennen muttered, before following Esse.

Breton Wager - 3

After Rose returned with the pens, Breton got to work on the posters. He sat on the stage across from Rose, who, despite his previous claim, was not being of much help at all. Nashaadh bustled around backstage, moving boxes and hanging the posters that Breton completed.

“Breton, are you going to the Masquerade Ball on Friday night?” Nashaadh asked after a little while.

“I’m going!” Rose interjected before Breton could even conceive an answer. “I’m going with Nashaadh,” he added.

“You really should come with us, Breton,” Nashaadh invited.

“Aw, Nashaadh, do you have to go and invite your cousin?” Rose pouted.

“Rose, he’s your friend too!” Nashaadh scolded. “It’s a school hosted event, he should go anyway!”

“I know, I was just kidding,” Rose said calmly. “You should definitely come, Breton.”

“How?” Breton asked, not pausing his decoration of Nashaadh’s posters.

“Well, I’m going as a phoenix,” Nashaadh reminisced, setting down a box and plopping down beside Breton and Rose. “All red and yellow and fire . . .”

“And I’m going as a parrot,” Rose shared, scooting closer to Nashaadh. “All color and sleek good looks.”

Rose tossed his wavy, dark red head of hair. Nashaadh laughed.

“You really should go, Breton,” Nashaadh repeated.

“What would I go as?” Breton argued politely. “You guys already took phoenix and parrot.”

“You could be a woodnymph bird,” Nashaadh offered.

“Oo! Yes! You’d look good in purple, Breton!” Rose agreed, clearly enthused.

“You really would, Breton!” Nashaadh exhibited excitement. “There must be a beautiful indigo pattern jacket somewhere we can buy for you!”

“Yes! And I have these wonderful pants that will match gorgeously!” Rose continued.

“Ohmygosh, Breton, we are totally building your costume for you!” Nashaadh squealed. “You are coming on Friday!”

Breton remained silent as Nashaadh and Rose used the previously discarded markers to plan his costume. Silently, he was pleased. Nashaadh and Rose were his two closest friends. And although a Masquerade Ball sounded scary, if he went to one, he would want to go with Nashaadh and Rose.

Besides, with the Christian hanging around, it might be a good idea to live in the moment.

Breton Bauerbecken

Illustration courtesy of Teepi Guest

Heyy, new writeblr! ^̮^ Pls REBLOG so I can follow you!

(and poetblr.)

—my writeblr and poetblr introduction—

To start off, my name is Ashiya. I am an infp and I am sixteen (and probably bisexual and genderfluid🌈). I like writing as a means to relax…and when I say writing it’s mosty WIP’s. I start but I never finish. Like the water cycle. It never ends. Unless you wield magic powers to control elements(waterbending)- which is kind of how I am hoping this blog will be to me. Break this vicious cylce that is bringing me closer and closer to self destruction…ok so maybe it’s not that dramatic but I hope I’ve gotten my point across?

As I’ve mentioned: I am new here and I’m (obviously) looking for some blogs to follow so I am just going to shamelessly ask if you guys could reblog this so I can know who you are!

Also, just a heads up. My actual writing is definitely not like this ^^^

I’m just super tired at the moment so my grammar is all over the place. And I sometimes use lower case in my poems for aesthetic purposes  😅 😋

Sooo, see ya!

Esse Iflandoonia

Illustration courtesy of Teepi Guest