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Are you an artist? Writer? Musician? Or maybe just a creativity appreciator who likes to support others. Do you want to take the web back from the hands of CEOs and social media and algorithms? Join us. Let's revive the web.
I guess I'll kick this part of the forums off! Behold, I am making a thread to post whatever snippets of writing I feel like sharing, whenever I feel like sharing them. Perhaps whole fic updates as well. Can't say exactly how often that will be, and I'm sure it won't be anything resembling regular, but I may as well make an effort.
If this thread sees significant use, I may eventually update this opening post with something resembling a Table of Contents. For now, just take this link to my AO3 account.
8bitdyke likes this post
Brush
Posts : 10 Reputation : 0 Join date : 2023-07-05 Age : 23
And now, as an inaugural reply, here's a choice snippet from this Hollow Knight fic I'm working on. Fair warning, this takes place after one of the most spoilery endings in the game, so if you're trying to avoid that, y'know. Don't read this. I'll put the juicy details beneath spoiler tags to make that easier.
Top secret Hollow Knight spoilers:
If you clicked on this spoiler tag, I'm going to assume you're already inoculated to spoilers and familiar with the jargon! If you don't know anything about Hollow Knight and just don't care about spoilers, that's your problem. So this is a post-Embrace the Void fic, wherein the Knight (or Ghost, as they are popularly known, and as I choose to call them) has inherited the title of God of Dreams and has NO idea what to do with it. Meanwhile various non-gods are trying to piece things back together in a post-post-apocalypse, but that's a little less relevant to this particular part.
With that context added, have this itty bitty bit of my writing! 100% exclusive, you won't find these words anywhere else (until and unless I finish this story. Someday.)
Snippet:
Ghost's occupied mind makes them sloppy. They suffer quite a few blows on the way to Unn's room, and even the hotspring doesn't completely cure their lingering headache from Grimm slamming them into the floor. And speaking of headaches, Godseeker is here too. They'd hardly noticed her absence the last time, but now her muttering is near-impossible to ignore as she hovers at the edge of the platform and looks out at Unn.
"She stirs," Godseeker says, trembling reverence filling her voice. "O fading god of leaf, We thought thy slumber endless, but now thou stir! Is this a sign? Was thy fading presence not a protracted end, but merely a rest?"
Ghost steps up to Godseeker's side, head tilted back to look at her. She looks down after a moment, showing not an ounce of surprise to see them. "Holiest God of Gods, We were wrong to question thy judgment. Thou hast rekindled the spark of even lowlier Gods. Thy generosity knows know bounds."
Really? They're only here for the novelty of a dream that isn't Godhome. Whether pestering Unn has some benefit to her or not, it isn't any concern to them.
On the subject of Unn, they turn their attention to look across the lake as well. Unn is there once more, no longer a slumbering island in the middle of the acid but a full shape rising from the surface, eyestalks swaying in their direction. Ghost tilts their head, then carefully lines themself up, calls on the power of the Crystal Heart thrumming in their chest, and leaves Godseeker in the dust.
Halfway across the lake, they feel the dream shift. It's a subtle thing, a gradient they hadn't noticed when they crossed it at a slower pace. This time, though, they feel the moment they cross over from the Godseeker's dream to Unn's, and they make a note of it.
A moment later, Unn's tail snatches them from the air, far longer and more flexible than they'd thought. They squirm and struggle to escape, but the smooth skin offers no purchase and the firm muscles refuse to yield. Ghost is given no choice but to pout and wait until she releases them. When she does, it's onto a ledge sticking out of the wall, formed of tangled roots and barely large enough for them to sprawl.
"You return," Unn says, as Ghost climbs back to their feet and straightens their cloak. "Why? I hold no more interest in battle than when last we met."
Ghost gestures towards the direction they came from. There's a faint glimmer of gold, a tiny window of light through which the Godseeker watches from her dream.
Unn peers in that direction, eyestalks swaying once more. "An ardent worshipper of yours," she says, looking back at Ghost. "Do you come at her behest? I hear her call, and I have told you my answer already."
Ghost shakes their head furiously. If she had asked them to speak with her, perhaps, but that Godseeker is so blinded by their 'majesty' that they're shocked she even noticed Unn at all.
"Avoiding her, then?" Amusement ripples through Unn's voice. "Such fervent adoration grants strength, Lord of Shades. But I do not fault you for being overwhelmed."
Ghost huffs. If only their problems were always so easy to read. Again, though, they shake their head. They take a seat on a relatively level spot on the ledge, crossing their legs and tucking their cloak beneath them. A mote of essence drifts past and they clap their hands around it, then carefully lift their hands and watch as its intricate emerald green pattern gradually fades into the black of their palm.
"You are strange," Unn says. Ghost lifts their head to find her eyestalks have drifted close, the rest of her body coiled and resting beneath the surface. "In devouring the Old Light, you would be given her domain and all of her abilities. Yet you slink about in the dreams of others, rather than your own."
They've never had a dream of their own. Is that strange? They've slept, certainly— sometimes it feels like their body holds exactly enough energy to last them from one bench to the next, easily carrying them through every fight only to doze off the moment they sit down. But that sleep is empty, noticed only for how time seems to jump forward between one moment and the next.
"Is it fear?" Unn asks. "Your worshippers are loyal, but they will not live forever. To cling so close to one dream is no way for a young god to live."
Ghost shakes their head, then tilts it and points at her.
"I sleep to preserve myself through drought," Unn says "The Old Light's passing eases the burden, but my people remain distant to me. You have no such problem."
Again, Ghost looks to the window into Godseeker's dream. Yet more figures have gathered, they realize, a small crowd of bronze masks staring at the two of them across the lake. They firmly look away.
"If you are so displeased by their attention, why do you not leave?" Unn asks. "Your mortal shell yet lives. You may wake at any time."
Does she think they haven't tried that? They retrieve the Dream Nail from their cloak, holding it where she can see. A great crack mars its head, seeping a constant trickle of void. It still works to gather soul and thoughts, but not much else.
Unn considers this only briefly. "A mortal trinket," she says. "Useful for the unascended, but surely you have outgrown such things."
Had they a face, they would glare. It's a touchy subject— successive molts have served to harden their shell, but without close inspection they are near identical to how they climbed out of the egg. Such stunted growth is both a blessing and a curse; good for wriggling through small spaces, and not needing to relearn all their hard-learned nail arts, but with all the problems that come with looking like a small child.
That is not what Unn is referring to, of course. But the association is enough to make them throw the Dream Nail down with a huff and turn away with crossed arms.
"Surely," Unn repeats, more slowly. "The newfound God of Dreams must know how to Dream."
Ghost looks back up and stares, letting their utter blankness speak for itself.
Subject: Brush's General-Purpose Writing Thread 
Wed Jul 05, 2023 10:07 pm
