Hello again, everybody!  I hope that everyone has been having a good week.  As usual, this week has had it’s interesting moments, and, of course, continued work in all areas.  It’s all good, though.

Today’s prompt is #22: “Growth.”

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There were some who proclaimed her a goddess.  A beacon of life, growth, beauty, and grace.  They said that she was everything that existence had to offer: everything good, everything pure, everything right.

There were so many ways she wanted to show them their mistakes.  They said that life and growth were a cycle, but they had the arrogance and sheer, blinded stupidity of the sure to think that they had a handle on it, that they could control which way it would flow.  They’d see, soon enough, the reality of the situation.  They see what became of the world when life and death were seen as they truly were, in the eternal battle between fate and free will.

Hello, everyone!  In case you didn’t see, my wife’s new book, Pandora’s Ring released last well.  I happen to think that it’s pretty darn swell, so take a gander, if you will.

The prompt for this week is  #72 : “Numbers.” Enjoy!

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Magic, to him, was a matter of numbers.

Six: points of magic, scars on his right arm, nights spent without peaceful sleep in any given week.

Five: claw marks etched over his heart, nightmares whenever he fell asleep, years training till his back broke with the effort.

Four: journals filled with the names of those close and dead, tiny holes in his left calf, fingers broken in the last week alone.

Three: methods to channel magic, gods that dictated will, masters fallen before their time.

Two: parents deceased, eyes bleeding from the strain of more eldritch power than a human should muster, obvious paths to follow.

One: hope to salve his wounds, anger that scorched him worse than regret, face which asked him quietly in dreams to remember that which was lost under the weight of eternity itself.

Hello, everyone. I’d like to start things off by expressing Kaitlin and I’s thoughts of condolence to those affected by the Boston attacks.  To the dead, may you find peace.  To the wounded, may you find succor.  To the guilty, may you find justice.  To the innocent, may you find solace.

The prompt for this week is #47: “Vision.”

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It was a desperate cause, but there was little enough anyone could do, as how does even a Demigod reignite the fire of an entire plane without also remaking it?

His ascension to the vacated post answered the question and saved the world, with all of its residents.  The people of Kovin had collectively lost their hope and he returned it.  Kovin subsequently experienced what is still referred to, many years later, as ‘The Age of Peace.’  Its denizens turned their eyes to the future, and having lost sight of it before, pursued it all the more joyfully.  Cities were built, treaties forged, and villages thrived.  All of this was because that one needful thing, hope,  returned.

- The Red Book, Chapter 15, Page 283, Anonymous

Hello again, people.  We had a narrow scare with my mother in-law yesterday, but everything seems to be fine now.  She’s in the hospital, but recovering well.  I figured that I might as well try and get this out while I have a moment to write it down.

The prompt for this week is #40: “Dusk.”

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There were many legends about the mountains, the travelers knew.  A place of mystery and danger, to be sure, but also home to a trove of magical knowledge and power the likes of which might have even challenged the wealth of Waesin Gyn.

The leader of the expedition, a man whose red hair was beginning to go grey, peered up at the dusk-lit peaks.  ”You know, that mountain sort of looks like your head.  Even has the colors right, you know, with the pretty red from the sky, the gray of the stone, and the snow.” His sister observed.

He raised an eyebrow over his good eye.  ”That right?  By the way, what do you get when you cross a rock with a monster?”

She stared at him.  ”…a rock monster?”

“Yup.  Now would be a good time to start running.”

Hello, everybody!  Apologies for missing last week, but I haven’t been feeling terribly great.  Over the past week, I’ve actually missed four days of work.  Hopefully, me feeling a bit better today is more than just a fluke.

The prompt for this week is #32: “Hammer.”

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She had three tools: a flame, a sword, and a hammer.  Everything else in her shop was either a decoration, a trophy, a gift, or the raw materials she used to work her craft.

She breathed in and fire burned through the air along the path where her left hand guided it, dancing along the length of the rune-infused iron.  Then, like a delicate sledge, the hammer came down.  Steam rose as she quenched the blade once this session was done, nearly an hour later.

She examined the length of the blade with skilled intent.  She’d worked on the blade for three weeks already, and she’d barely scratched the foundations of what she could do with the blade.  Still, it was curious: what had prompted her son to ask, in honor of his sister’s wedding, a blade that knew fire better than the fangs of the Devil God?

Hello, all!  As I told you in my last tidbit, the movie night last night featured “The Man with the Iron Fists.”   While really offering nothing too new, it’s a solid martial arts flick, and of course, the fight scenes are pretty good.  Heavy on blood and violence, it does tend to be a bit short on the type of svelte plot that movies tend to need, so if you’re a fan of the genre, give this a look.  Otherwise, it’s probably a pass.

That being said, here is Prompt #30 : “Angelic”.  Enjoy!
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The girl couldn’t have been more than fourteen, the seer guessed.   Walking through the angelic ranks, she looked it, expression frightened, uneasy despite the firm stance and straight back she presented.  On second thought, perhaps it was the cant of the girl’s wings that most gave away her apprehension.

The seer frowned, looking closer.  Angels did not have so soft a presence: their faces seemed to have a perpetual glare of influence, as if daring the viewer to ignore them.  But this girl… the seer blinked, now more than curious.

This world was dying and thousands of angels were pinning their hopes on a half-breed?

Hello, everybody!  I was a bit sick over the weekend, and that continues on even until this day, although I feel a bit better now.  I lined up another movie night, so expect that on Tuesday, I’ll tell you how The Man with the Iron Fists was!

The prompt for today is #83 “Torment.”  Enjoy!

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His eyes had that sort of  dementedly supreme insanity to them that could not have been achieved by any amount of effort: only inborn talent sufficed.  He pointed towards their captor with a black claw, murmuring. “Bones of the earth to soak your weeping eyes…”

The seer shuddered, her soul cringing away from the sight to come.

“Never again to know a comforting breast or mother’s keep.”

Her mother screamed.  ”No!”

He grinned. “Torment Slave.”