[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Six Pack Perils by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Six Pack Perils
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 610] “Log Number [REDACTED]. Or something. Day: Don’t know! Time: Don’t care!! Look, forget about the log! I know what I saw. I mean- I don’t know- but it was there and I saw it, alright?! That THING. Something in the woods. It was just… there… staring at me. Watching me. Waiting for… me??? What monstrosities lurk beyond the veil in this accursed city? What abominations could strike fear into even I, the Harbinger of the Apocalypse?!??! I shudder to think of some malicious entity more fearsome than me! Huff… puff… should stop narrating now… outta breath…” Hazard had not wandered into deep, dark woods where he soon grew hopelessly lost. (He didn’t even remember how he got here anyway!!) His aether had definitely not turned to ice when he felt a chilling presence boring into the back of his skull. And he most certainly hadn’t screamed at the top of his lungs like a little baby and ran away!! No siree!!! No idea what you’re talking about. But here
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Candyfloss King by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Candyfloss King
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 1839] “Log Number [REDACTED]. Date: Unknown. Time of day: Unknown, only that it is still somehow day. The Sun never sets here. I say Sun with a capital S because it is everywhere I go and everywhere I look in this blasted kingdom. What a menace. No wonder Treatropolis fell; setting up shop with that THING hovering over your heads all the time was doomed to fail. Perhaps it is a Harbinger of the Apocalypse, as am I. If so I feel no sense of kinship towards it. I scorn its very existence, I need none of its aid. We are not the same. I will bring about my own day of reckoning, and when I do, it will be glorious…” And so on, and so forth. These are not words hastily scribbled upon the last torn page of a faded journal before the writer succumbs to crystalline rigour mortis. Neither does this broadcast play from a long-forgotten VHS recorder over and over on repeat. Nay, they are the mumblings of a fiendish creature stalking through the abandoned halls
[Stygians] Spelt In Straws: Moonburn - Page #??? by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Spelt In Straws: Moonburn - Page #???
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 2017] Foul trespasser. Send word far and wide. Of the last Queen of Treatropolis, Queen [REDACTED] [REDACTED] the Xiith. True heir to the [REDACTED] bloodline. Consort of the Treatropolis Sun. And the majesty of the darkest day of her dynasty. Bits and pieces flake off the crumbling city walls. An unnatural sheen radiates from the candy houses, coated in a sickly sweet glaze. Stare long and hard into the murky gloop and you just might see it: A lone figure shambling mindlessly through the twilit gloom of once-great Treatropolis. There is still life in this urban wasteland of candy canes and lollipops. Or some semblance of it at least. A crow circles impatiently overhead. After all, scavengers seek out the dead to feast. On occasion the crow swoops down and dive-bombs the nightmare invader, causing his shuffle-step, shuffle-step gait to stagger to a halt. “Caw! Caw!! Cacaw caaaaaw!!!” Though it furiously bombards the Stygian with noise and
[Stygians] Pages from a Pied Stranger - #1 by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Pages from a Pied Stranger - #1
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 720] “It is better to light a single candle than curse the darkness.” Where were you when the Sun set for the last time over Treatropolis? Beyond the gates of the great Treatling city, shut for all eternity, the twilit streets glisten in an array of tantalizing hues. A pied stranger wanders down a pristine road of sheer, glossy sugar. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. With every step, the city crackles and shatters underfoot. Konpeito balls begin to gather beneath the soles of her hooves; every so often the stranger stops to stamp them out lest her journey be laced with candy-coated agony. What a tragedy, she mourns as she looks over the colorful shards. How the mighty have fallen. We will never have another Hundred Year War again. I know of the pain and suffering it wrought. It is a mercy and a kindness that none can relive them. But this… Is this peace? I do not know. The stranger moves on. A swathe of stardust is all that remains. Where is
{YVVO} Love Is Letting Go by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Love Is Letting Go
“Zem luna, teim luna.” “Zem Luna, ve teim a.” The last passenger has disembarked. Though the ferryman waves farewell, they are already gone. As he glides down the river the only thing rising to greet him is his shimmering reflection. Skimming past perilous reefs, snatched from the gnashing jaws of death with just a touch - is he alone? He can count the Yevatem who hailed him down today on one hand. He does not blame them. Few teskavtlejem dare travel the selerved this way. On a craft so light, down a route so precarious, and with naught but a single guide? Who would go on such a ratetvoitlej voyage? Who, indeed? But there are always those who will need the ferryman. They must go on, they must. The hasty, the desperate, and the dubious who it is best not to question. And a smiling ferryman is better than going alone. For only the ferryman knows the way of the selerved, and there are plenty of ways an unsuspecting traveller might sink into the embrace of Ai Matia, as the
{YVVO} The Sweetest Treasure by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} The Sweetest Treasure
Hark! Gather round, deyevatem, gather round. Those are the melysteryevatem you hear. They are calling the children home to hear tales of cycles past. But there is one story that is told time and again even if you are not from the Heart. It is an old, old story; how old exactly, we do not know. Who was the first to speak of it? Not even the melysteryevatem can tell us. Although they have heard it since they were but deyevatem themselves, none know the face nor the name of that wondrous storyteller who weaved these words so long ago. Nevertheless, it makes for a good story. Come while away the hours, deyevatem, stay a little longer past your bedtime and listen to the tale of Botheamitsaal… Why Botheamitsaal? Why the heart of the Heart, the very soul of the Mother herself? None can deny her presence, for her laughter ripples throughout the caverns; all Yevatem can hear her heartbeat in their ears and feel her coursing through their blood. If you care to listen, her voice can be found
{YVVO} To Tame The Heart by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} To Tame The Heart
How precious is water to the desert-dweller! We never really think about such things until they are gone, you know; nobody in the astriaveltu’rem goes thirsty. Why would they? Not when Yevatem can quench that thirst from every lake, river and spring they please. Kesyajdesi luna mepeus anier ierim ujeltur’em. As long as you search where the light does not reach, you will find water. But teskavtlejem from above, with their callused hands and parched lips - they know how to appreciate the miracle of water. Lune is so scarce on the surface; the teren is too hot, too hot! And it is hottest in the no-water lands where the very sand threatens to scald your feet. To varsamakteskavtlejem a mere puddle is a gift from our Mother, two cupped palms’ worth cause to celebrate. If only we could learn to love the simple things as they do… A powdery-blue blur bounds across the landscape. It gives pause for a moment - just a moment. Staring up at a laughing waterfall, a Siune puppy giggles before
{YVVO} Just A Dream by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Just A Dream
There is static in my throat Fizzling and crackling Rotting my fingertips And shattering my teeth While I lay dying You were lighting fireworks Burning me up from inside Because I wasn’t bright enough To go out in a blaze of glory Promise me I can finally sleep in peace Promise me It’s the last she’ll haunt my dreams It’s time to wake up, Irei. “No… nnnnnno… stop… please stop… Please… Stop…I SAID STOP!!!!” Irei barely registered the nightmare was over until the darkness faded and left him lying there, shaking like a leaf. “No. Nonononono. It’s just a dream. Just a bad dream.” He could barely move. His whole body had seized up, rigid with fear, chilled by the night yet sweat clinging to clammy skin. “Just… a dream. Just a dream. It’s not real. It’s not real. She’s not here. It’s not real.” He blinked and hot tears spilled. Already he could feel the marks drying on his cheeks. “It’s… not… real. Is it???” All this and he couldn’t even remember any more.
{YVVO} Death and the Town by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Death and the Town
You know, teskavtlejem from the no-water lands have a curious saying. Koga Al Varrok tekrastaik varsamak, varsamakgaruem zemdesi theilej. When Al Varrok strikes the desert with his lightning bolts, the sands will turn to glass. It is a good saying, a wise saying. It reminds us that hope shines brighter than any tragedy ever could. Yoa will always bloom on the battlefield. Once, there was a town here. There still is. It has no name, but Yevatem who have lived here all their lives call it Lunaituhei: A home upon the wildest of waters. It used to be quite a sleepy town, content to ebb and flow with the tides - little more than a calm finger on the pulse of the astriavhesfiem, though the rivers were what gave Lunaituhei sorkabai. Merchants found their way here, one way or another, and soon a floating market sprang up on the banks of the town for tsarta. Yet some things never change. The Yevatem of Lunaituhei are strong and steady, slow but determined as the currents that always
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Six Pack Perils by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Six Pack Perils
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 610] “Log Number [REDACTED]. Or something. Day: Don’t know! Time: Don’t care!! Look, forget about the log! I know what I saw. I mean- I don’t know- but it was there and I saw it, alright?! That THING. Something in the woods. It was just… there… staring at me. Watching me. Waiting for… me??? What monstrosities lurk beyond the veil in this accursed city? What abominations could strike fear into even I, the Harbinger of the Apocalypse?!??! I shudder to think of some malicious entity more fearsome than me! Huff… puff… should stop narrating now… outta breath…” Hazard had not wandered into deep, dark woods where he soon grew hopelessly lost. (He didn’t even remember how he got here anyway!!) His aether had definitely not turned to ice when he felt a chilling presence boring into the back of his skull. And he most certainly hadn’t screamed at the top of his lungs like a little baby and ran away!! No siree!!! No idea what you’re talking about. But here
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Candyfloss King by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Apocalypse Journal: Candyfloss King
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 1839] “Log Number [REDACTED]. Date: Unknown. Time of day: Unknown, only that it is still somehow day. The Sun never sets here. I say Sun with a capital S because it is everywhere I go and everywhere I look in this blasted kingdom. What a menace. No wonder Treatropolis fell; setting up shop with that THING hovering over your heads all the time was doomed to fail. Perhaps it is a Harbinger of the Apocalypse, as am I. If so I feel no sense of kinship towards it. I scorn its very existence, I need none of its aid. We are not the same. I will bring about my own day of reckoning, and when I do, it will be glorious…” And so on, and so forth. These are not words hastily scribbled upon the last torn page of a faded journal before the writer succumbs to crystalline rigour mortis. Neither does this broadcast play from a long-forgotten VHS recorder over and over on repeat. Nay, they are the mumblings of a fiendish creature stalking through the abandoned halls
[Stygians] Spelt In Straws: Moonburn - Page #??? by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Spelt In Straws: Moonburn - Page #???
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 2017] Foul trespasser. Send word far and wide. Of the last Queen of Treatropolis, Queen [REDACTED] [REDACTED] the Xiith. True heir to the [REDACTED] bloodline. Consort of the Treatropolis Sun. And the majesty of the darkest day of her dynasty. Bits and pieces flake off the crumbling city walls. An unnatural sheen radiates from the candy houses, coated in a sickly sweet glaze. Stare long and hard into the murky gloop and you just might see it: A lone figure shambling mindlessly through the twilit gloom of once-great Treatropolis. There is still life in this urban wasteland of candy canes and lollipops. Or some semblance of it at least. A crow circles impatiently overhead. After all, scavengers seek out the dead to feast. On occasion the crow swoops down and dive-bombs the nightmare invader, causing his shuffle-step, shuffle-step gait to stagger to a halt. “Caw! Caw!! Cacaw caaaaaw!!!” Though it furiously bombards the Stygian with noise and
[Stygians] Pages from a Pied Stranger - #1 by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
[Stygians] Pages from a Pied Stranger - #1
[QUEST: E-047 (RETURN-001), WORDS: 720] “It is better to light a single candle than curse the darkness.” Where were you when the Sun set for the last time over Treatropolis? Beyond the gates of the great Treatling city, shut for all eternity, the twilit streets glisten in an array of tantalizing hues. A pied stranger wanders down a pristine road of sheer, glossy sugar. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. With every step, the city crackles and shatters underfoot. Konpeito balls begin to gather beneath the soles of her hooves; every so often the stranger stops to stamp them out lest her journey be laced with candy-coated agony. What a tragedy, she mourns as she looks over the colorful shards. How the mighty have fallen. We will never have another Hundred Year War again. I know of the pain and suffering it wrought. It is a mercy and a kindness that none can relive them. But this… Is this peace? I do not know. The stranger moves on. A swathe of stardust is all that remains. Where is
{YVVO} Love Is Letting Go by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Love Is Letting Go
“Zem luna, teim luna.” “Zem Luna, ve teim a.” The last passenger has disembarked. Though the ferryman waves farewell, they are already gone. As he glides down the river the only thing rising to greet him is his shimmering reflection. Skimming past perilous reefs, snatched from the gnashing jaws of death with just a touch - is he alone? He can count the Yevatem who hailed him down today on one hand. He does not blame them. Few teskavtlejem dare travel the selerved this way. On a craft so light, down a route so precarious, and with naught but a single guide? Who would go on such a ratetvoitlej voyage? Who, indeed? But there are always those who will need the ferryman. They must go on, they must. The hasty, the desperate, and the dubious who it is best not to question. And a smiling ferryman is better than going alone. For only the ferryman knows the way of the selerved, and there are plenty of ways an unsuspecting traveller might sink into the embrace of Ai Matia, as the
{YVVO} The Sweetest Treasure by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} The Sweetest Treasure
Hark! Gather round, deyevatem, gather round. Those are the melysteryevatem you hear. They are calling the children home to hear tales of cycles past. But there is one story that is told time and again even if you are not from the Heart. It is an old, old story; how old exactly, we do not know. Who was the first to speak of it? Not even the melysteryevatem can tell us. Although they have heard it since they were but deyevatem themselves, none know the face nor the name of that wondrous storyteller who weaved these words so long ago. Nevertheless, it makes for a good story. Come while away the hours, deyevatem, stay a little longer past your bedtime and listen to the tale of Botheamitsaal… Why Botheamitsaal? Why the heart of the Heart, the very soul of the Mother herself? None can deny her presence, for her laughter ripples throughout the caverns; all Yevatem can hear her heartbeat in their ears and feel her coursing through their blood. If you care to listen, her voice can be found
{YVVO} To Tame The Heart by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} To Tame The Heart
How precious is water to the desert-dweller! We never really think about such things until they are gone, you know; nobody in the astriaveltu’rem goes thirsty. Why would they? Not when Yevatem can quench that thirst from every lake, river and spring they please. Kesyajdesi luna mepeus anier ierim ujeltur’em. As long as you search where the light does not reach, you will find water. But teskavtlejem from above, with their callused hands and parched lips - they know how to appreciate the miracle of water. Lune is so scarce on the surface; the teren is too hot, too hot! And it is hottest in the no-water lands where the very sand threatens to scald your feet. To varsamakteskavtlejem a mere puddle is a gift from our Mother, two cupped palms’ worth cause to celebrate. If only we could learn to love the simple things as they do… A powdery-blue blur bounds across the landscape. It gives pause for a moment - just a moment. Staring up at a laughing waterfall, a Siune puppy giggles before
{YVVO} Just A Dream by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Just A Dream
There is static in my throat Fizzling and crackling Rotting my fingertips And shattering my teeth While I lay dying You were lighting fireworks Burning me up from inside Because I wasn’t bright enough To go out in a blaze of glory Promise me I can finally sleep in peace Promise me It’s the last she’ll haunt my dreams It’s time to wake up, Irei. “No… nnnnnno… stop… please stop… Please… Stop…I SAID STOP!!!!” Irei barely registered the nightmare was over until the darkness faded and left him lying there, shaking like a leaf. “No. Nonononono. It’s just a dream. Just a bad dream.” He could barely move. His whole body had seized up, rigid with fear, chilled by the night yet sweat clinging to clammy skin. “Just… a dream. Just a dream. It’s not real. It’s not real. She’s not here. It’s not real.” He blinked and hot tears spilled. Already he could feel the marks drying on his cheeks. “It’s… not… real. Is it???” All this and he couldn’t even remember any more.
{YVVO} Death and the Town by matcha-royaltea, literature
Literature
{YVVO} Death and the Town
You know, teskavtlejem from the no-water lands have a curious saying. Koga Al Varrok tekrastaik varsamak, varsamakgaruem zemdesi theilej. When Al Varrok strikes the desert with his lightning bolts, the sands will turn to glass. It is a good saying, a wise saying. It reminds us that hope shines brighter than any tragedy ever could. Yoa will always bloom on the battlefield. Once, there was a town here. There still is. It has no name, but Yevatem who have lived here all their lives call it Lunaituhei: A home upon the wildest of waters. It used to be quite a sleepy town, content to ebb and flow with the tides - little more than a calm finger on the pulse of the astriavhesfiem, though the rivers were what gave Lunaituhei sorkabai. Merchants found their way here, one way or another, and soon a floating market sprang up on the banks of the town for tsarta. Yet some things never change. The Yevatem of Lunaituhei are strong and steady, slow but determined as the currents that always
Explanation for my silence by YokaMycelium, journal
Explanation for my silence
Hey! Damn we're getting closer to the 4K watchers here, even if I don't post much. Thanks everybody!!! qAq This journal is kind of a vent/explanation of my recent lack of activity, if anyone's curious about why I kinda disappeared. Some of you might have noticed a recent and progressive silence from me since the last months. I've been less active, drew less, and even me who was very active on discord started to be distant over there. There are many reasons for that. First of all, my life hasn't been the simplest. It started a year ago with my sister who had heavy health problems, so much that we were sincerely concerned for her life. She finally beat up the disease that crushed her, even if she still suffers from the consequences of it. Then my grandpa's health started to decline as well. Physically and neurologically. Then it was my boyfriend's grandma who started to decline. The grandparents needed us freeing some time for them, to take care of them and do paperwork for them
[YVVO] June 2022 Prompt: Kopoem by sky-limits, literature
Literature
[YVVO] June 2022 Prompt: Kopoem
The canyon walls called down to Skara as she stared up at them in awe. She was still considered too young, and not allowed to climb the cliffs as others had done. They were up there now, harvesting kiem from nests perched on twigs and in niches of the rock. Skara did not mind this; she knew the veltayem would later, but everything in this world must eat. This was a law she learned early on in these deserts of Bothea, that lives are built upon the bones of others. Her father was nearly touching the sky with his long tail, scrabbling, matrah to reach a nearby root hanging from the sandy rock. Skara reached down to the head of her siune for support, clutching his fur tightly - not painfully - for comfort. Kanyo sat there, tongue lolled out with a happy grin. The siune pushed his head into Skara’s hand, panting softly. Skara was nervous for her father, yes, and Kanyo seemed to know this. But the older yevat had done this a million times. He would be alright. His hand grasped the root
A rumble rattled her body. Instinctively, Kore turned her head to check the clock mounted on the wall. Eleven thirty-five, it read. As it always reads. Time was still in the university. Yet despite that the natural 'body clock' still ticked, demanding sustenance and rest. Loathe as she did to turn away from her research, Kore knew no good came from denying herself the basic needs of a corporal form. It was fortunate then, that the university's cafeteria was always fully stocked with fresh, hot meals. Salads, sandwiches, pizza, chips, and even fresh fruit were always available for her consumption - despite the lack of staff or any other living creature for that matter. It was a mystery she had once tried to solve. She had pulled her own feathers out trying to figure out the riddle before coming to the conclusion that the meals were simply part of the Kingdom, as natural to it as the frozen hands of every clock. The halls were, as always, devoid of life. The perpetual drizzle pattering
Developed Event Prompt - Recycle by Its-Sathem, literature
Literature
Developed Event Prompt - Recycle
Grey covered the sky like a decisive stroke of the painter's brush. The air shivered in anticipation. The clouds burst. It was time for a proper april shower. The rain beat down on the sidewalk, slowly darkening the light concrete with little circles of water. Thunder rumbled in the north, still distant for now. The sun became more and more muted behind a rolling bank of clouds, the thin light that makes it through shines weakly on the city. Rivulates of gathering rainwater run down the street to the grate set into the pavement, not yet enough run over the rim around it and so it pools in a swirling little eddy until it can make it over the lip and drip into the storm drain and onto the snout of an unsuspecting esk. Sabine had his neck scrunched in short and his tail connected in an unusual show of condensation (unintentionally ironic given the current weather patterns above) though his size was comparable to a medium sized dog. This was unusual because his non-elongated form was
It's that glorious time of year, folks! No, not Christmas in July, but pretty close! YVVO, a tiny CS with a HUGE heart, is having a FREE MYO event for this month!! Come join us! We'll be so glad to have you here~
L U I S A Player Profile: Masterlist Entry: Lifetime: 197 GP Current: 37 GP origin traveler nature quiet gender female size majestic boundary tributary biome species esk collection MYO designer @tayleaf uncommon traits eyespots, spots, sleek, foot tufts, dark mask rare traits iridescence, pale eye nature features green algae, curly pondweed, american white water lily (Nymphea odorata) Personality & Backstory TBA GP Log Luisa's GP log can be found here: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1JiNU5EP62tQ74cb9nTMdfgKdcczILeD71RkzIXJJVF0/edit#gid=136020632 GP Purchases Treasures & Achievements Badges Esk are a closed species created and owned by witherlings