az6fs r8eh6 7yez8 2bbyz e34at re4st htdd4 zy245 szkzh hikk7 8sy3t de362 fdekf 784y2 tbi62 yd98r 778ry st4en nnsy3 2s2ra i8bz5 ‘A place almost perfectly made for mystery’ |

‘A place almost perfectly made for mystery’

2021.12.02 13:15 2_Blue ‘A place almost perfectly made for mystery’

‘A place almost perfectly made for mystery’ submitted by 2_Blue to Zampano [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 incoherentshrieking First chapter: feedback appreciated :))

I’ve been toying with writing a novel I’ve thought about for awhile and decided to take the plunge.
It’s a literary fiction centered around a young prince and his brother (based on my own sister, shout-out to her), with themes about anxiety, maturity, and the MCs quest for approval, as well as his brother’s “savior complex,” and trying to get over the feeling that you need to help everyone or no one else will.
This is a very very rough draft around 2,000 words- the book is a frame narrative starting at the end with a separate set of characters, so if the first moments are slightly confusing, that’s why.
Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Specifically, I’d love if you have comments about my prose style, my metaphors, or if you think it’s too heavy-handed. If you can pick out any of my symbolism early on, please tell me what you notice so I can make it more or less obvious as the situation requires.
No need to sugar coat- I’d love to hear your ideas.
——
There’s a storm outside, and the thunder rumbles darkly into the thick glass window panes. Alone by the fireplace sits a young boy with tattered clothes, beige and gray, stained and mismatched, with holes on every seam. He stares into the fire so as to avoid looking at the rain, as lightning bolts pierce his periphery and his mind begs him to go outside and relish in the chaos. He won’t, because there’s his mother, standing by the door. “Is it warm?” she asks, with her arms crossed and an easy smile on her face. Her boy nods, but he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t turn to look at her. “You know what your father said about playing in the rain,” she says softly. The boy nods again, but the pattering on the glass sinks into his mind and grips his thoughts with talons, sharp and grating. The mother settles down on her knees next to him at the fire, and she hums softly. He hums along. It’s his old lullaby from childhood- a faraway song, dissonant in his mind but melodic in the air- a tune he could sing but never play nor write, for each of them will forget it in a dark corner of their perceptions, dusted and dry, once the final notes echo off into silence. “Where did the song come from, mother?” The boy’s mother stops humming and tilts her head curiously. “Your father used to sing it. Very long ago.” “And where did he get it?” The woman shakes her head. “He never did say.” The boy nods and resigns to silence- to gaze into the flame with his mother at his side, something resembling music filling his ears, but the very corners of his awareness tortured by the flashes of white light from the darkness outside. “Do you want to hear a story?” The mother says. The boy averts his eyes from the logs for the first time since the storm began, and he asks: “What kind of story?” “You never heard how father’s story ended, did you?” she asks. The boy shakes his head. No, he’d heard his father’s legends many a time; listened to him speak in rhymes and sing praises of lands the boy wasn’t quite sure he really did see, but such intricate crafting of the tall tales of magic and mystery- no such stories could be made from the depths of a human’s mind alone. He had one tale he tended to tell whose final words were lost. The boy never heard what happened to the Angel after the death of his sons. His father always seemed to stop himself from finishing right before catharsis. And so the boy turns to look at his mother, and focuses on her lips. She speaks beginning words of an epic poem he’d heard before in paraphrasal forms, act one and two he knew by heart, and he opens his ears and tunes out the sound of thunder as a portrait of a community is painted before his eyes once more. “There once was a kingdom on the edge of the wood which war never plagued.”
And in this kingdom there was peace and contentment rivaled by no other. Ruled by a King with a wide smile and cheerful eyes, his two sons, the warrior and poet standing always by his side. In the Angel’s kingdom there was music in the square each night, funerals never made for mourning, but celebration of life. The people ate pastries and confectioners’ sugars and sang songs of days gone by; and farms were tended, weeds always pulled, the kingdom drowning in corn, potatoes, and rye. Lefse and bread and vegetables and fish sat on the tables of each family each night- and those who couldn’t afford their own would always have the generosity of neighbors in sight. There was no strife, and no thieves lurking around the corners. No families afraid to walk the streets at night, and no doors locked tight and blinds pulled shut, with always candles to illuminate the dark. Such was life as it had always been, and inside the palace, there was nothing short of prosperity, if not so explicit to its inhabitants, as an airy voice rang out through the halls. “Will! Give it back, I swear to god!” There came a laugh from another child that couldn’t be much older than the first, if at all. His steps pattered down the halls in a rhythmless motion, tripping over his own feet in his haste, but no indignance leaving his bubble of joy at the uncoordinated actions. “You’ll never catch me alive!” And his brother may not have caught him alive, had it not been for the King, standing in their way with an amused smile cutting across his face and arms crossed over his chest. “And just what have we stolen today?” The boy sheepishly shifted to hold the book behind his back as his brother caught up to him with exasperation in his eyes. “Dad! He took my journal!” he practically yelled. Had the King not been accustomed by now to his children’s antics, maybe he’d recoil at the young prince’s volume. “William,” he addressed his thieving son, “please give Nicholas his journal.” The child scowled and handed it behind him to his brother, who smiled at his father- a savior in his eyes. “I just wanted to see,” Will spoke. His brother raised a hand to swat at his head, earning a pointedly warning look from his father. “It’s not yours to see,” Nicholas let out. “Will, Nicholas is right. Nicky, don’t hit people.” Chagrined, the child looked away, and smiled in an attempt at confident innocence. “Sorry dad.” And their father smiled and nodded at them. He reached down to ruffle his youngest’s hair. The child would assume this meant his facade was effective, but his naivety was a virtue he’d yet to lose. “I’m meant to find you for dinner. Five minutes, boys.” With that, the King walked back from whence he came, with his children in his wake, the scent of cinnamon lingering in the hall behind him. “What do you write in that thing all day anyway?” The elder the first to speak up. Ever the diplomat, his brother stuck out his tongue and scrunched up his nose- his victory would go straight to his head. “Stuff you wouldn’t understand. Real smart things.” At this William could only roll his eyes. At dinner that night the two would squabble as per usual, with their father looking on in veiled amusement. They’d visit their mother after dinner to weave her tales of their adventures around the palace in vivid detail she didn’t ask for, but detail that would become important to her nonetheless in the tangled textile of her sons’ lives that she could only view from afar, and she’d smile. Soon when she could rouse herself from bed without the phantom pain overtaking her, she would write for her sons the symphony she thought of as she slept, knotting together their stories of the mundanity of their lives that appeared so very foreign and unparalleled to their starry eyes. And the boys would fall asleep in their rooms across the hall, the older in darkness with windows closed, and the younger, door cracked open with his eyes until the witching hours of the night. If there be unrest, let its consequences be felt tomorrow, for in the palace, consciousness in the twilight thrives. When the boy woke the sun was low in the sky cusping the edges of the horizon with trees blocking off the most powerful rays. A bright cloudless day looked to be in store, and Nicholas smiled, pulling away his comforter and leaving his room in unexplained haste. He fell asleep late and woke early nearly every day, and though his father would laugh and tell his wife about their true night owl of a son, it would be far more accurate to describe him as simply an awake person, made for both early mornings and long nights spent reading and writing and looking at the stars, for he slept as if rest was death being shy, and he intended to make the most of life. And so he awoke each day before dawn. He found himself most joyful in the dying summer days of late August. He left the palace without so much as a sweater into the chill air of the autumn morning and breathed in the smell of perfumed flowers releasing dying breaths until their birth next spring, and the serenity of warm-toned leaves falling to the ground filling his lungs. His father would never understand the son’s interest in the first flakes of precipitation gracing the palace grounds each time the air dropped below freezing- which was far too often for anyone else’s liking. If anything, Nicholas was somehow outside more often in the coldest days of the year than he ever would be when sunrays shone high in the sky, and dolphins frolicked along the coasts. It had always been this way since the earliest days of his childhood, when he caught snowflakes on his tongue and something in his warm chocolate eyes lit up with a newfound passion for living that couldn’t be explained in any English words he ever could muster. And so he wrote. With pen in hand each night in his room, ink would grace the weathered pages of books he’d steal from the library. For at 10 years old, Nicholas Barlowe knew everything there ever was to know. Pressed between those yellowed pages lay memories unscattered, collected together as pieces of a puzzle, broken and dilapidated, and ill-phrased from the hand of a child not so true to his studies. So here he was, as flora bid their final goodbyes and gave way into the chilling months of the winter, sitting on the grass and speaking to a small foxglove, no doubt primed to be removed by the groundskeepers the very second its purple began to wilt into grayed pastels. The boy prince would give his time to doomed petals whenever there was enough to give. “The autumn is coming soon,” he would say, and the weeds would afford no response. “You’re all very brave. You’ll come back again next spring, right?” Nicholas never did expect them to reply, and often took the smallest change in the speed of the wind as confirmation, and he smiled. “That’s what I thought.” He sat back against the stump of a tree and pulled out his notebook as a crow landed in the grass beside him, and let out a shrill chirp. He reached out with a finger to try to pet its head, and it squawked and darted away as fast as it arrived. Nicholas frowned and followed the bird’s path with his eyes as it disappeared into the sky above him. Soon enough he’d have to retreat back into the palace for breakfast; maybe his mother would be well-rested enough to join the family this morning, but Nicholas forced himself to have little faith in the possibility. With a tremor in his hand, and and never-receding smile on his face, he wrote about the past day in great, unnecessary detail. He sat quietly and watched the zephyr around him ruffle the trees and bushes, before a paper-thin presence landed on his head, and he smiled as the leaves fell down.
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2021.12.02 13:15 TheAlte111 Bosideng Weibo Update: Follow the heart's direction and explore the glaciers and snow. Xiao Zhan's winter outdoor equipment, Bosideng extreme cold series down jackets, effective windproof fabric, unbothered by wind and rain, challenge the limit.

Bosideng Weibo Update: Follow the heart's direction and explore the glaciers and snow. Xiao Zhan's winter outdoor equipment, Bosideng extreme cold series down jackets, effective windproof fabric, unbothered by wind and rain, challenge the limit. submitted by TheAlte111 to XiaoZhanWorld [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Alexk208 This Dave and Busters paper jam receipt [OC]

This Dave and Busters paper jam receipt [OC] submitted by Alexk208 to mildlyinteresting [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 blondebiologist18 Depotting-

I recently purchased a Z potter. However, it enlightened me that some people can’t afford to invest like that. And also, once you’ve depotted your makeup, you now have a useless $80 machine. So- if I created a website where people could send makeup to be depotted, and returned to them labeled so that they can then organize it it however they like, would anyone be interested? Thoughts?
submitted by blondebiologist18 to makeuporganization [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 MyTimeInTheSky Cave Diving

Cave Diving submitted by MyTimeInTheSky to NoMansSkyTheGame [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Kazuliski Baldur's Gate 3 - Hotfix #19 Now Live!

Baldur's Gate 3 - Hotfix #19 Now Live! submitted by Kazuliski to BaldursGate3 [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 haggardinnovations #090 Shellder

#090 Shellder submitted by haggardinnovations to HIMedia [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 ToddJustWorks Praise Todd Howard

Praise The Legendary Game Developer Todd Howard
submitted by ToddJustWorks to PraiseToddHoward [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 mamagrege yes

yes submitted by mamagrege to DannyGonzalez [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 burriedinCORN For those who believe the sky is falling

For those who believe the sky is falling submitted by burriedinCORN to whitesox [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Robo_Rameses Penalty for quitting a ranked match (brainstorming)

I have been thinking about the best way to keep people from quitting a ranked match. I take my lumps most of the time and stick it out when I'm losing, but get quit on often if I score in the first couple of innings. I am not good, so it stinks to never get to play from being ahead.
Anyway...here is my idea. If you quit, all of your relief pitchers lose 25% of their stamina. It will hurt you, but not be so harsh as to really mess your team up.

What do ya'll think? Any othebetter ideas.
submitted by Robo_Rameses to MLBTheShow [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Reasonable_Row5715 $NGR 🍣 (Nigiri) - [BSC] 💎 - Launching Now 🚀. BuyBack System 🐋. Holders Rewards in BUSD ⚡️. TechRate Audit 🔐

🍣 Nigiri is a project that seeks to implement the buy back system and a reward in BUSD to holders to benefit its investors, creating a safe, reliable and profitable token.
🍱 Nigiri is the most traditional piece of Japanese gastronomy. These are small portions of rice compacted and modeled with oval shape. On these pieces of rice, fish or seafood are placed. We find out that it was possible to unite this idea with a project that generates profits for all, with its innovative systems of buyback and rewards.
📱We are trying hard and we want to run a huge marketing campaign with many great influencers, stay tuned! We will also use the marketing wallet to create a non-stop campaign, in all social networks (Twitter, Tik Tok, BTok, Youtube, Reddit, Telegram)
🔒 The Nigiri contract is being audited by TechRate, and liquidity will also be locked for 24 months
🚀 CMC and CG will list right after launch
⏳ You can look for our road map on our website that is full of news and announcements for you!
📊 Tokenomics
Total supply 1.000.000.000 $NGR
💰 Taxes
2% Buy-Back (to never fall)
6% BUSD Claim Function (To reward holders)
2% Marketing (for non-stop campaigns)
🔥 LINKS:
📋Contract: 0x1011a35a232016621187702542e9fe35cf62f51b
Buy Here: https://pancakeswap.finance/swap?outputCurrency=0x1011a35a232016621187702542e9fe35cf62f51b
Renounced Ownership: https://bscscan.com/token/0x1011a35a232016621187702542e9fe35cf62f51b#readContract
🔐Liquidity locked: https://deeplock.io/lock/0x3Eb7f93D5424a2de39C09B79D493C30Dd3A14b17
submitted by Reasonable_Row5715 to CryptoMarsShots [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 DeMappaussant How we doing fam?

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2021.12.02 13:15 haggardinnovations #089 Muk

#089 Muk submitted by haggardinnovations to HIMedia [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 viv3hunna Gulag gulag gulag

submitted by viv3hunna to BrandNewSentence [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 beandipboi This is showing up on my friends account does anyone know how to fix it besides contacting Ubisoft

This is showing up on my friends account does anyone know how to fix it besides contacting Ubisoft submitted by beandipboi to growtopia [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 treituiy 💰Seamlessswap💰 Just Launched 💥 Dont Miss Out 💥CEX listing soon 🔥 Market Cap At $400k 💥

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Seamlessswap is an up and coming project in the crypto defi space with the purpose of making crypto easy by creating a safe, reliable and affordable place to buy sell and stake crypto at high apy’s. With the future intentions to make a ease of use wallet that has all of the defi aspects integrated into the iOS and Android app being its first major goal in the defi space, additionally after the full release of the wallet our next objective is too start the development of seamless exchange this will be all explained in the white paper which is on our telegram


🔥SEAMLESS STATS🔥
Total Minted 400,000,000

Total Burned 0

Circulating Supply 400,000,000

New SEAMLESS/block 30


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Links to our socials and charts are down below if you want to do any self promotion to further on our endeavours to make crypto easy

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Having the interest for crypto industry and blockchain technology
submitted by treituiy to ico [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 EffYouM0m Woohoo!

Woohoo!
https://preview.redd.it/wk3au0zcm5381.png?width=394&format=png&auto=webp&s=13c78ecf612b46a0ddb27a418d703d609c96a670
submitted by EffYouM0m to Starlink [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Robdorium Skyrim Cinematic Walkthrough: Blood in the Water and clearing Lost Knife Hideout (Part 1 of 3)

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2021.12.02 13:15 Dmtotalkaboutppl Anyone wanna chat about her dm me

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2021.12.02 13:15 ToddJustWorks Praise Todd Howard

Praise The Legendary Game Developer Todd Howard
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2021.12.02 13:15 Artistic-Mistake Where you live matters

More an anecdotal FYI, but here goes; I've noticed that in areas with higher rates of post secondary educated people (ie college and higher), heightism is less of an issue socially speaking. Areas with less educated people tend to be more heightist.
Cities, especially tech oriented/ white collar cities with strong ties to academia are a much more height neutral environment. As an adult, I only care to live in areas with other educated people. My social life has been much easier compared to my childhood in a small rural city. Smart people just dont put as much value on height.
submitted by Artistic-Mistake to short [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Ok_Ordinary_5591 When I was at the psych ward I was literally afraid when I forgot my meds there over the weekend.

Nobody should be afraid to make a mistake.
submitted by Ok_Ordinary_5591 to therapyabuse [link] [comments]


2021.12.02 13:15 Kyoto_Black Huge RPG collection for sale (Bristol, UK)

I have a rather large collection of RPG books for sale including a lot of rather rare titles. I’d like to sell these as a whole ideally and would be open to offers. Collection would be required as these weigh more than the sun.
https://postimg.cc/gallery/9ZZYLkj
submitted by Kyoto_Black to rpgtrade [link] [comments]


http://kazanowski.ru