Recent Posts

options
quote
Post a Random Thought written Jun 13, 2024 1:38:09 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
supervisor asked me to apply our team into an international big awards competition two months ago and write our entry/be our person in charge when the team has NO experience in this kind of stuff, was in the firm belief that our team was nowhere near qualified and stressed for weeks re: how to write the entry, and now two months later you're telling me WE'RE A FINALIST?

ngl, i just might cry
last edit on Jun 13, 2024 1:38:56 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
Favorite Line from your Last Post written Jun 12, 2024 9:31:13 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
Kingmaker.

There's a certain gravitas to the word, and the weight in which the Mother speaks of the matter. His lifetime molded into a story, retold beyond the seas, passed among hundreds he would never know. A title, instead of a person. His name, redrawn into another piece of the myth of someone close to Andraste's holy image.

Is this what it means — to stand at the very top?
last edit on Jun 12, 2024 9:32:22 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
Quick Interest Checks written Jun 11, 2024 6:41:59 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
diesel-steampunk, mechs, fantasy loosely based on wwi era. main setting is loosely inspired by spain, religion taken from the greek pantheon, a rlly weird and different magic system using sound and ideals. live in a shitty corrupt island city trying to survive in the midst of a universal war they aren't a participant in. character-driven, low commitment, no major site plot (small-scale site essentially) but the setting itself lends to a lot of unhinged possibilities if players actively start them. pilot airships and automaton mechs baybeeeee.

main pegs include: dishonored, bioshock, mistborn wax and wayne era, wuthering waves, six of crows, pathologic, disco elysium, masquerada: songs and shadows, steelrising, amberlough, leviathan by scott westerfield
last edit on Jun 11, 2024 12:45:57 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
— your altered sign — written Jun 3, 2024 8:38:59 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
[attr="class","prismatic"]
[attr="class","prismatic-border prism-vertimg1"]
[attr="class","prismatic-inner"]
[attr="class","prismcol-img1 prism-imgbg1"]
[attr="class","prism-imgbox1"]
[attr="class","prismcol-body"]
[attr="class","prism-textbox"]“You ever wonder,” the gold coin flicks through the air at the snap of the masked man’s fingers, “what the world would look like — ten, twenty years from now?”

The coin lands on the nail of his thumb with an artificial clink.

Tails.

He hums, turns it over, and garrote strings cling to the material until it dangles mid-air like a pendulum. Astrid rolls her eyes at the sight, indifference in her gaze. He continues to sway the coin, seemingly enamored by how it hangs below his hands and above the cliff’s edge of a crumbling rooftop.

“I didn’t take you for the philosophical type,” the girl responds, half-earnest and half-guarded. “We both know I’m not beating your deadline.”

Where does one even begin to find the name of a man who hides under so many layers of anonymity, he may as well be an eternal mystery?

Dearly, she misses Ryota. Momo. Marcie. Hisao.

“Do you want a fight or what, Fractal?”

He snaps his wrist forward, and the coin lurches ahead, almost violent. The string keeps it tethered to the tip of his fingers. For once, in this virtual existence, everything is silent.

“Do you really think all I want is a fight, Ayame?”

“Stop calling me that. I go by Astrid here.”

God help her, even with the blank surface of his mask, she can swear he’s smirking.

“I could push you off the roof, you know.”

“I’d just respawn a few miles away.”

“Technically, it’d mean I win the deal. I take you down to 0HP, so now you go off to Grimoire Dawn for your crimes.”

“Is it criminal of me to just be a damn good player?”

“You TPK everyone who tries to even cross this part of the map, Fractal. My guild’s collecting your bounty. All’s fair in love and war.”

“Does that make what we have love and war?”

She doesn’t understand him, Astrid finds. In every image she could build of Fractal — notorious party killer, infamous solo player, the masked mad man who’d learned to main wires and smoke bombs until they became one of the most banned items in the server marketplace — nothing about him makes sense. A picture of casual confidence in blacks, purples, greys, and golds; stupid hoods and stupider masks; someone who could spend the rest of his time in this game at the top of every leaderboard, wanted by all, and yet is sitting here now, at the edge of a rooftop, knowing her real name all because he wants… what?

Her company?

“You’re the one who’s lording my real name over me until I figure out who you are.” And despite the accusation, she can’t help the way she bumps her shoulder against his — playful, comfortable, like she can do this all her life.

As if her friends aren’t fracturing at the seams as a fear toxin threatens to swallow both the virtual and the real; as if she doesn’t miss Momo, despite everything she’s told her; as if Ayame Ishihara, sunshine in a bottle and girl next-door in every slice-of-life dream, wouldn’t sooner spite her own face than see her again; as if every interaction she’s ever had with Fractal prior to this point hadn’t been a fight, a battle that leaves her dead until she respawns again, with the memory of his victory as vivid as the image of his switchblade in her throat; as if they don’t always do this because she wants to win something for once in her life, and he seems to believe that she will.

“Like I said, Astrid,” his shoulders shrug, a laugh buried in his throat, boyish and lovely, “I consider you a worthy opponent.”

“Sounds to me like you’re just way too into the thought of me finally killing you.”

“I can’t say I don’t think it’d be pretty hot to have my ass kicked by someone like you.”

“And yet, you won’t give a single inch to tilt the odds in my favor.”

For a moment, she thinks he won’t respond, and she wonders if she’d at least beaten him here.

"Heads or tails?"

The girl tilts her head when she looks at him. He remains staring at the expanse of code, data, and pixels beyond them.

"Heads. Why?"

He turns the coin over his fingers, slender and skilled as ever. In the gesture, Astrid is fully reminded of how he takes to a battle. Thin string wires and deft hands, of all things.

"I flip the coin. If it lands on heads, I give you a hint to who I am. If it lands on tails, we do another fight."

And somehow, she can't say she's surprised by the options.

She also can't say she curious by what'll happen, when they're both subject to the whims of fate.

"Do it."

Fractal tosses the coin in the air, and her heart leaps into her throat.

The gold coin falls over the edge, caught halfway by the string. He pulls it back, and it lands onto the palm of his hand.

Heads.

He releases a breath. Astrid blinks.

"I'm seventeen."

She had a feeling. The hint does not narrow her list of suspects any more than she wished it did.

"I go to the same fencing class as you."

She pauses. Two hints?

"I am terribly, horribly, pathetically interested in girls."

She blinks.

"Why would I think you aren't when you flirt —"

"Just trust me on that, yeah?"

She doesn't even have the time to argue with him, because he flicks his wrist and pulls up the menu. In the same moment, Astrid realizes how his finger moves to hover over the log off button.

"Hey, wait —"

The gold coin is tossed her way and, on instinct, she takes it. Clasps it in both hands like a prayer, and he watches her like it could be the last time.

"And I sure as hell hope you and your friends can beat the Architects and stop that toxin from getting out."

Does that mean —

"If there's anyone I'd put my bets on to pull it off, it's you."

He's gone before she can speak. Astrid blinks again, replaying each word in her head until it's a song.

I'm seventeen. I go to the same fencing class as you. I am terribly, horribly, pathetically interested in girls. And I sure as hell hope you and your friends can beat the Architects and stop that toxin from getting out.


The gold coin stays in the palm of her hand.

And the only thing she can find herself focusing on is that her parents enrolled her in women's fencing.


[attr="class","prism-meta"]
[attr="class","prism-notes"]prompt - 22, gold | pov ur weird cocky rival in a vrmmo game runs away bc they confessed they're an awkward lesbian who rlly likes you
[attr="class","prism-tags"]
[attr="class","credits"]made by gimmick


art by cel


[googlefont="Assistant:300,400,700"][googlefont="PT Serif:400,700"]
[newclass=".d-theme.prismatic"]margin:15px auto;width:max-content;max-width:594px;text-align:right;position:relative;--seriftype:'PT Serif',serif;--outerborder:#111;--bgcolor:#222;--accent1:rgb(124 84 208);--accent1rgb:124,84,208;--tallimg1: url(https://b.l3n.co/i/zSlTXH.png);--bannerimg:url(https://i.imgur.com/tQKyepo.png);[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic a.credits"]font:700 7px/10px'Roboto',sans-serif;letter-spacing:.8px;text-decoration:none;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme .prismatic-border"]padding:8px;background:var(--outerborder);box-shadow:0px 0px 40px rgb(0,0,0,0.1); text-align:left;font:300 14px/1.5em'Assistant',sans-serif; color:#999;letter-spacing:.7px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic-inner"]display:grid;grid-template-columns:190px 390px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismcol-img1"]background:var(--bgcolor);display:flex;align-items:center;justify-content:center;position:relative;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme .prism-imgbg1:after"]content:'';position:absolute;width:100%;height:100%;top:0;left:0;background:var(--tallimg1) center center / cover; z-index:0; filter:saturate(1.5) blur(2px);opacity:.08;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme .prism-imgbg1:before"]content:'';position:absolute;width:100%;height:100%;top:0;left:0;background:linear-gradient(120deg,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.75),rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) 60%,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) 80%,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.75));mix-blend-mode:color-burn;z-index:10;opacity:.1;mix-blend-mode:saturation;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme .prism-imgbox1"]width:100px;height:250px;background:var(--tallimg1) center center / cover; z-index:20; filter:saturate(1.5) contrast(1.25) brightness(.75) grayscale(.3);opacity:.9;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismcol-body"]background:var(--bgcolor);padding:40px 45px 20px;padding-right:25px;display:flex;flex-direction:column;justify-content:space-between;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-textbox"]padding-right:20px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-vertimg1 .prism-textbox"]max-height:500px;overflow:auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic br"]content:'';display:block;height:.425em;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme.prismatic i"]opacity:1;color:rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.75);text-shadow:0 0 0 rgba(255,255,255,.6);[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme.prismatic b"]color:var(--accent1);font-family:var(--seriftype);opacity:.9;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-meta"]display:flex;align-items:center;margin-top: 1em;justify-content: space-between;flex-wrap: wrap;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme .prism-notes"]margin-right:9px;font:12px/1.4em'Assistant';letter-spacing:1.2px; flex-basis: 50%; flex-grow: 1;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-notes::before"]content:'notes | ';text-transform:uppercase;font:bold 10px var(--seriftype);letter-spacing:1px;color:var(--accent1);[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-tags"]display: inline-flex;flex-wrap: nowrap;max-width: calc(100% - 20px);padding: 8px 0;overflow-x: auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.d-theme .prism-tags > span]display: flex;align-items: center;margin-right: 8px; padding: 0 16px;height: 40px;background: var(--outerborder);text-transform: uppercase;font: bold 10px var(--seriftype);color: inherit;text-decoration: none; letter-spacing: 1.4px;[/newclass]
[newclass=.d-theme .prism-tags a]text-transform: inherit;font: inherit;color: inherit;text-decoration: inherit; letter-spacing: inherit;[/newclass]
[newclass=.prism-tags > span:last-child]margin-right: 0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:3px !important; height: 1px; background:rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) !important;border:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".d-theme.prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background:var(--outerborder) !important;border:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar-track"]background:var(--bgcolor);border:0;[/newclass]

[googlefont="Assistant:400,700"][googlefont="PT Serif:400,700"]
[newclass=".prismatic"]margin:15px auto;width:max-content;max-width:594px;text-align:right;position:relative;--seriftype:'PT Serif',serif;--bgcolor:#f8f8f8;--outerborder:white; --accent1:rgb(52 95 189); --accent1rgb:52,95,189; --tallimg1: url(https://b.l3n.co/i/zSlTXH.png);--bannerimg:url(https://i.imgur.com/tQKyepo.png);[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic a.credits"]font:700 7px/10px'Roboto',sans-serif;letter-spacing:.8px;text-decoration:none;text-transform:uppercase;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic-border"]padding:8px;background:var(--outerborder);box-shadow:0px 0px 40px rgb(0,0,0,0.1);color:#333;text-align:left;font:400 13px/1.4em'Assistant',sans-serif;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic-inner"]display:grid;grid-template-columns:190px 390px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismcol-img1"]background:var(--bgcolor);display:flex;align-items:center;justify-content:center;position:relative;overflow:hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-imgbg1:after"]content:'';position:absolute;width:100%;height:100%;top:0;left:0;background:var(--tallimg1) center center / cover;filter:saturate(1.5) blur(2px) brightness(1.5);opacity:.05;z-index:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-imgbg1:before"]content:'';position:absolute;width:100%;height:100%;top:0;left:0;background:linear-gradient(120deg,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.75),rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) 60%,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) 80%,rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.75));mix-blend-mode:color-burn;opacity:.5;z-index:10;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-imgbox1"]width:100px;height:250px;background:var(--tallimg1) center center / cover;filter:saturate(1.75) contrast(.8) brightness(1.05);opacity:.9;z-index:20;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismcol-body"]background:var(--bgcolor);padding:40px 45px 20px;padding-right:25px;display:flex;flex-direction:column;justify-content:space-between;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-textbox"]padding-right:20px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-vertimg1 .prism-textbox"]max-height:500px;overflow:auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic br"]content:'';display:block;height:.425em;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic i"]opacity:.75;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic b"]color:var(--accent1);font-family:var(--seriftype);opacity:1;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-meta"]display:flex;align-items:center;margin-top: 1.25em;justify-content: space-between;flex-wrap: wrap;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-notes"]margin-right:9px;font:12px/1.4em'Assistant';letter-spacing:.3px; flex-basis: 50%; flex-grow: 1;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-notes::before"]content:'notes | ';text-transform:uppercase;font:bold 10px var(--seriftype);letter-spacing:1px;color:var(--accent1);[/newclass]
[newclass=".prism-tags"]display: inline-flex;flex-wrap: nowrap;max-width: calc(100% - 20px);padding: 8px 0;overflow-x: auto;[/newclass]
[newclass=.prism-tags > span]display: flex;align-items: center;margin-right: 8px;background: rgb(var(--accent1rgb), .05);padding: 0 16px;height: 40px;text-transform: uppercase;font: bold 10px var(--seriftype);letter-spacing: 1px;color: inherit;text-decoration: none;[/newclass]
[newclass=.prism-tags a]text-transform: inherit;font: inherit;letter-spacing: inherit;color: inherit;text-decoration: inherit;[/newclass]
[newclass=.prism-tags > span:last-child]margin-right: 0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar"]width:3px !important; height: 1px !important; background:rgb(var(--accent1rgb),0) !important;border:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb"]background:rgb(var(--accent1rgb),.1) !important;border:0;[/newclass]
[newclass=".prismatic ::-webkit-scrollbar-track"]background:var(--bgcolor) !important;border:0;[/newclass]


last edit on Jun 26, 2024 16:29:07 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
Favorite Line from your Last Post written Jun 1, 2024 20:22:19 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
if anyone told me a year ago this character would end up a cult rockstar propaganda machine struggling with the concept of the death of the author and being a propellent for what is essentially a modern day apocalypse i wouldnt believe you but, man, it is so tasty

He’s staring, he realizes. He’s staring at a bleeding wound, and there’s a song that needs to be written, and tomorrow is another concert, another crowd, another symphony, another moment in time to be, and notice, adoration, existence is the currency in which he knows he was once a beggar for, so he should stop fucking staring at the blood.

Asmodeus has been quiet a lot these days.




coming soon.
options
what's on your mind: RP Edition written May 31, 2024 19:11:58 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
The Law Avatar
May 31, 2024 1:27:55 GMT said:
How does one go about silencing their inner critic? That's a secret technique I wanna know. Because I think more so than time constraints, this is what's keeping me from writing (including for RPs) as much as I would like to.


honestly? i take it. i think writing is always a learning process, and while i'm in the camp of "our worst critic is ourselves", i've found that the spite response of going "oh my god shut up" @ the inner critic doesn't help me as much as it does others (which, more power to those of whom that response works!), but for me — i think there's merit to detaching myself from the work emotionally / personally and going "okay, why do i think this sucks?" and, more than that, "okay, what would i wanna do instead with this?" / "what do i feel like would make this better to me?". doesnt matter how seemingly impossible, stupid, outlandish, ooc, etc. the idea is — if you like it, make it, and sweat the small stuff later. (personal experience example: hitting a roadblock on one oc of mine to the point i actively hated him and what i did to his narrative, then decided "screw it" and returned to an old plot point i scrapped in the character's original conception, changed his fc, dealt with the punches that all gave me. now he's a cult rockstar with an arc i cannot express how happy i am with on an authorial level.)

mindset shifting is pretty damn difficult, but imo there's a lot of payoff in moving from "this is terrible SCRAP IT I HATE IT" to "fuck it imma do what i wanna do" does so much in the long run. treating the inner critic as less an enemy and more someone who should be heard but have their opinions questioned and rerouted to something more productive for You(TM) is smth i feel like isn't considered a lot, but also maybe worth meriting a mention.
last edit on May 31, 2024 19:12:16 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
Favorite Line from your Last Post written May 29, 2024 14:31:19 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
okay NOW these are actually from my last two posts:

Truthfully, he could have never faulted his sister for escaping it. To be the one who succeeds in rewriting this eternal narrative; the version of Orpheus that doesn't look back, a retelling in which Christ looks at what his Father demands of him and flees from the cross, hand-in-hand with Mary Magdalene or Peter or Judas until their names are but a distant memory, and never once a Bible verse.


What does it mean: to become a myth?

"Dare I ask what future you'd envisioned?" he asks, and there's a light-hearted attempt to give the query.

Love, he decides, must be the answer. Not for a single person — but a whole body; a whole people; a whole world; a whole possibility. To pay the price of freedom, absolute and true, without resentment for what would be lost. To choose love in every trial, in all its painful, imperfect, impossibly great, existence. He certainly hopes this is how it works. The world would be a terribly sad thing if it isn't. This story would be an awful one if it isn't.

Simon takes a breath and leans onto his cane, with a stumble he quickly recovers from, still unused to it all.


What would have happened in the myth, had Eurydice felt the sun on her skin again, but never Orpheus's touch?

Is she always doomed to lose in the storyline of her life?

Laura Prince decides she hates this story. It doesn't happen to be enough to quell the ache in her heart.
last edit on May 29, 2024 14:33:14 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
Favorite Line from your Last Post written May 23, 2024 5:10:50 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
not any of my last ones, but definitely some personal favorites as i start to close out these characters, spoilering them for length. my god, they grew up.

SPOILER: Click to show
"I don't know how to fix any of this," Thian Lê remembers confessing, in the dead of night, while Meili was already asleep, and M̷a̷g̶d̷a̵l̸e̸n̴a̶ ̵N̸a̵v̴a̸r̶r̶o̴ The Serpent was the only soul listening to his prayer.

-

Each of these memories bring their own string of hurt: the price of failure, the price of success, the price of making a decision and seeing its cost. And he’d regretted some, wished to take back many, spent sleepless nights facing his own demons that twisted all his traumas and horrors into a new kind of pain, a new kind of mockery, and a new kind of reason for him to claim he’s trying to do the right thing.


But standing here now, hearing all Cheryl has to say — those beliefs turnover each other all over again, reshaping into the view of someone beyond these narratives of saints and sinners and heroes and martyrs, and there is so much of it to realize. So much regret that floods his person, a torrential wave of pressure and guilt. To mourn, to apologize, to regret — careless actions, constant deaths, always hiding, so much damage left behind in the name of being a hero and a martyr who does the saving.

-

Wren wouldn’t consider that the takeaway from her confession. Duty suggests she believes in the law; that her oath comes with loyalty to the very same system that ensured a father would stay behind bars as long as no one else could point the finger somewhere else. Moral responsibility assumes that she has superiority—that Wren Ji-Woo Quon, in all her failings and choices and attempts to never challenge those above—has the singular right to decide what is good and what is evil. It’s a black-and-white contrast, borders religious, when all she believed came in stars and comets.

”I’d consider it seeing promises through,” she says instead, and the correction feels satisfactory in her tongue.

-

Is this the price of revolution?

Penelope always thought she would be the one dying in its color.

-

Is this freedom: to face the product of all your decisions, in all its brutal facts and realities, and no longer turn away?

Is this freedom: to give it all up, in the name of something more personal — more important — to the person you are than the abstract beliefs of what it means to be a hero?



coming soon.
options
quote
Post a Random Thought written May 23, 2024 0:45:19 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
went from having 8 sick leaves saved up from work to having 5 left... can this flu please set me free already im on my knees

update: went to the clinic for a checkup and the doctor said to take ANOTHER sick leave for tomorrow this is the worst karma for taking one last friday bc i didnt feel like going to work.
last edit on May 23, 2024 4:45:45 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
what's on your mind: RP Edition written May 19, 2024 6:33:00 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
Asu Avatar
May 19, 2024 6:04:33 GMT said:
What are things that you do to stay motivated to write?

I know for a fact that part of my energy slump is coming from work burnout, but I'm also wondering if I'm feeling writer burnout from things like feeling too slow to keep up and wondering if I'm enjoying what I'm writing or if I'm just trying to roll the boulder up the hill because I know I'll never be able to be caught up. I've been a little more self-critical lately, looking at stuff and thinking ah man I just produced more garbage

Anyone read anything lately or get sucked into any games or pick up any new hobbies that have reinspired you and help bolster motivation???


ngl hard same tho on "is this work burnout or writer burnout" bc i oscillate between that like every two weeks haHA-

but generally what i do when i want to get reinspired / motivated to write is to consume some media i know has similar themes / plot beats / character arcs / concepts to what i'm personally struggling with. I.E. having to flesh out a plot that deals with oppression and what might lead people to furious extremism and bitterness = picking up x-men 97 a few weeks ago. last year, when i was writing a character's foray into trying to figure out their identity and struggle to become a better person amidst all their heartache and tragedy, i picked up disco elysium.

seeing how a piece of media i enjoy / will likely enjoy does smth i wanna do helps a lot in figuring out what i want to do / how i want to do it. on the flipside, if i feel like i can't commit to picking up new media, i tend to think about characters from media i already enjoyed and go over to ao3 LOL. just toss in a "character study" tag, read a quick fic that delves into the character (and ideally, one that has bomb writing), and find inspiration in that to move forward.



coming soon.
options
quote
Post a Random Thought written May 14, 2024 3:03:39 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.
the sexual tension between me going insane trying to finish campaign decks for presentations and said presentations being cancelled a minute past the scheduled time and date

edit: the way my company's mental health supporter bot just sent me a message like two minutes later saying "count your blessings" feels like i'm being mocked by fate
last edit on May 14, 2024 3:06:18 GMT by CEL



coming soon.
options
quote
what is a "must" you have to do when you're in a site written May 13, 2024 21:53:20 GMT
the narrative
aliasCel, Nightlock
pronounsShe/They
820written posts
CELearned bits
offlinecurrently
CEL
Part of the Furniture
CEL Avatar
i don't get angry when i'm pissed; i'm the eternal optimist.




if my roster doesn't have at least One(TM) hot mess twink i can put in the washing machine and set it on high, it's not my roster.

my roster is half doomed twink and half byronic women. i blame pathologic.

usually theyre all war criminals.
last edit on May 13, 2024 21:55:05 GMT by CEL



coming soon.