Writeblr Re-Introduction

Always been active off and on, but I want to get to more people since the vast majority of my followers have been inactive

Name’s Nick, and whatever nickname you can come up, and I deal in flash fiction, short stories, poetry, writing prompts, and discussion prompts!

You’ll enjoy my blog if you like sci-fi, fantasy, sci-fantasy themes, a good chunk of romance (M/F mostly, but I’ve done others), action/adventure, horror, and some satire and realistic fiction

Current WIPs:

I post lots of stories with their own universes, particularly Haven and Reina (a sci-fantasy pair going on adventures) and the Band (a comical rock band full of dysfunctional but talented folks)

You can look through anything of my own through #my writing or (more reliably) #njm

I’m not very talkative, but I’m always open for friendly and professional talks, and I’m down for asks, messages, and tag games if we have enough rapport

Enjoy your stay and prepare for weirdness!

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And if you’re generous and want to support me and future writings, here’s my kofi!

End of the Lineage

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Born from peasant stock, Rudolph grew to be a brave warrior, trading a spear for a sword as he vanquished conquerors that terrorized his people. Wheat grew like his golden mane, his people healthy and able to comfortably use surplus for scientific innovations, which then continued a cycle of wealth and lasting life.

When he should've been resting at his peak, he was poisoned by scheming nobles, dying before his beard could gray. Without a father, his children Boris and George squabbled and fought over control, growing into bitter and violent young men. Their kingdom splintered into chaotic masses that changed with each skirmish taking a piece from the other.

Boris had a son named Thomas and a daughter named Gwendolyn. He put everything into the success of his only son despite Thomas caring little for ruling and more about arts and the needs of peasants. The bolder Gwendolyn was passed over and was better seen as being wed to another prince.

George could not conceive a biological child, and he instead adopted an heir who was orphaned by a family that could not afford to care for him. Christened Louis, he was given little affection at first, but soon his tenacity won George's respect as a promising prince.

Gwendolyn and Thomas were strained by the constraints of lives neither chose. Gwendolyn made her mark going hunting for boars and later fighting marauders. No change. Thomas practiced his painting, music, and charity to make life better for others. No change.

Enough was enough, and Gwendolyn took Thomas to form a miniature kingdom where they could perform at their best, while Boris was weaker without heirs and part of the population. He roared at them to return but they couldn't bear the punishment. They let go of the past and let their father handle his brotherly conflict alone.

It was risky to let go of their family and connections, but the siblings had each other, supporting through thick and thin. They heard less of their father, and the last they heard, he ran to a remote part of the land that their grandfather was born in.

Planet of the Birds

@flashfictionfridayofficial

"And that, class, ends our discussion on the Emu War of Australia. A conflict that radically changed the course of the world. Any questions?"

A little gray wing raised up.

"Is it true that these weird ape things... Humans... Used to be in charge of everything?"

"Indeed. But they needed their guns instead of using their brains. Some even tried to rewrite history and turn it into a minor footnote. Fortunately, those dark ages are gone. Now remember class, tomorrow we will be talking about the chimpanzee war, so study!"

The flock of juvenile emus scattered outside the school with their calls and chirps. Miles away, a normally quiet shoreline held a strange visitor. A featherless biped walking on the sand until spotting something dispiriting. The remains of a giant green statue holding a torch.

"You maniacs! You blew it up! Goddamn you all to hell!"

He then turned and looked at a similar green statue looking like a hairy Roddy McDowell.

"I don't know who that is, but damn you for that, too!"

I gotta say, self indulgent personal writing is good for the soul. Probably won't make it public (unless unlikely romance choices and lighthearted adventures are in) but it's nice making it real

Center Field

We played baseball at night thwacking every ball with enough force to break the silence. No crowd, other than the ribbits of frogs and chirps of grasshoppers, and it was perfect to get away from the loudness of the civilized world for a while.

I was the best hitter but a slow runner. Leslie was the sprinter but had a predictable batting. Peter picked pitching and Cathy chose catching but they both liked to get around. Doug was always dug in or at the dugout and Sue just wanted to tag along to where the fun was.

I think we liked how equal the sport was. You didn't have to be the biggest, the tallest, the fastest, the best thrower, or have a gifted build. It was something we could plan and catch a break or go nuts and get it out our system.

We were restless for once in our tired lives, with small dreams carrying us out of the shuffle and into the game. Didn't feel like we were kids again but neither were we too adult for it.

Sunrise came up, with an orange sliver slicing the navy horizon, and it was time for one last round. All going well until I was at second base, no more help after this shot, and the ball landed right towards me. I bolted as fast as I could, huffing and puffing, wheezing and breezing, to third. But I got cocky and went to home, right as Leslie dogged me, and my adrenaline kicked in. My heart working like a train, seeing the sun come up, and instead of blinding me, it gave me the light I needed to keep going forward.

I don't know how I made it, maybe I swerved and caught her off guard, but I was a sweating dirty mess and coughing a storm. But hell, it was fun.

We had our circle shake hands and hug, still glad we got a moment to be ourselves without judgement. Everyone went their own way, the circle breaking up into different directions. Hopefully not for the last time but life is never predictable. The sun peaked out with glorious yellow radiance as the night chill ebbed and I was alone on my way home. But I wasn't lonely.