Avatar

Lyra Scott

@writinglyra / writinglyra.tumblr.com

she/her | 21 | writer the future looks just like gravity

Writeblr (Re)Introduction

About Me

Hi, there! I'm Lyra. Thanks for stopping by. I'm a twenty-one-year-old aspiring writer currently in college studying for a Mechanical Engineering degree. I'm moderately queer and severely nerdy and am generally a scatter-brained mess, so brace yourself for my blog being similar. I've been writing and telling stories to myself for basically my whole life, but I've only been a serious "writer" for a couple years now, so I'm definitely still learning the ropes. If you have any questions or want to get to know me, my asks are always open!

My Writing

A full, up-to-date guide to my WIPs can be found in my blog directory. Generally, I write a bit of everything. The only throughline in my work is my love of worldbuilding, thematic storytelling, and complex characters with big, emotional journeys. You can usually tell which project is my main focus based on my recent posts, but you can always send in an ask about anything I'm working on if you're curious. If you're interested in supporting me, I have a ko-fi page you're welcome to check out. I also have an AO3 account where I occasionally post fanfiction and a HelloPoetry page where I post random musing every once in an eon. As a note, some of my writing does cover serious topics that could be triggering for some people, including death, violence, and mental illness. I try my best to tag appropriately with the format "[topic] tw", but if I ever miss something, please don't hesitate to let me know. Otherwise, I hope you stick around. Love and Starlight, Lyra Scott
Avatar
Reblogged

WTW PRESENTS OUR 47TH EVENT!

For the month of February, we will be opening up our inbox to let writeblrs anonymously (or not!) send in appreciation letters to their favorite writeblrs through the blog and encouraging everyone to send in asks directly to your favorites.

HOW TO PARTICIPATE

Throughout the ENTIRETY OF FEBRUARY we hope you all will make use of WelcomeToWriteblr’s reach to shoutout your favorite blogs that you think deserve some spotlight and appreciation. These blogs can be your friends, your favorite writer, or even your favorite meme provider. As long as they are a writeblr—feel free to shout them out in our ask box! You're also free to submit multiple letters throughout the month, but remember that you can fit multiple blogs into one message. And don’t hold back your gushing! The whole point of this event is to share your appreciation, whether you do it anonymously or not. We hope you all take advantage of this event and we look forward to sharing your favorite blogs with everyone! 💘

GUIDELINES

  • Please don’t spam our ask box with the same exact message.
  • Be kind to every creator in your submission.
  • Hateful messages will be deleted.
  • NSFW content will not be posted to the blog.
  • Please be patient! We cannot predict how many submissions we will get, but it will take us time to answer them all regardless.
  • Appreciation letters will not be accepted after the END OF FEBRUARY, so get them in while you can.
  • But most importantly: don’t shoutout yourself! Spread the love!

XOXO, JOIN OUR SERVER HERE! (discord.gg/earlgrey)

Avatar
Reblogged
Anonymous asked:

🙏 and 🤕 for Misha (from @writinglyra)

Thanks @writinglyra 💜💜💜 (how are you??)

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

Religion isn't an element in this WIP, but Misha holds the concept and practise of monarchy very dearly, it's his entire life. He believes in monarchy as the only system of order and goodness (some of his lines are like needles to the eyes to write, the ancestors are mad at me)

🤕 What is the worst injury your OC has ever suffered? Do they have any scars or lasting physical reminders of it? Do they get sick often or have any lasting medical conditions?

Misha once cut his leg falling from a very big tree and he lost a lot of blood (and had a very wicked scar on his leg). Misha doesn't get sick very often and never badly.

Avatar

I'm doing well!

💍, 🎨 , 👽 for the ask game ❤️

Avatar

Thank you, Renee! I'll answer these about Leyla from TPIWP.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

Leyla is probably the most sentimental of everyone in ASTER. She holds onto things that she associates with her mother, who died when she was a kid, more than anything. Her mother was an art curator, and one of Leyla's most treasured memories with her is from when she was maybe four or five years old. She took a crayon and scribbled a drawing on the wall of their house, but instead of berating her and cleaning it up, her mom printed out a little plaque, like she would do for the collections she curated, and pinned it up beside the doodle as though it were a piece of art on display. Eventually, it got cleaned up, but Leyla kept the plaque, and she has it in her HQ room right now.

🎨 Is your OC artistic? Can they draw or paint or do they prefer another medium? Are they a writer or musician or do they do something else? Give us a quick run down of what they can get creative with!

The previous answer probably gave this away, lol. Leyla comes from a family of artists (her dad is a conservator and her mom a curator), so she inherited a love of it. Not only does she draw and paint (she especially loves oils), but she also studied piano from a very young age. But more than that, she was/is a very talented ballet dancer. Before she joined ASTER, she competed in ballet at an international level, and even now she tries to dance as often as she can.

👽 Describe your OC as if they were an urban legend or myth!

Nobody is quite sure what happened at the Nine Points Mall that day. The official story--what they want you to think--is that there was a power surge, and a mass panic, and a tragic accident. But everyone who was there will tell you something different. They saw something that day. Something terrifying. Something they can never forget. A horrible apparition, dominating the sky. It came from nowhere, like a blinding murmuration of light, swallowing up the crowd and spitting them out just as carelessly. Just being near it, they say, would make your skin go cold and your heart rate quicken. And the damned few who touched it... they say it felt like pure terror, burrowing down into their bones. Like hovering on the edge of a nightmarish sleep, but unable to move. And when it swallowed those two men, they were never the same again. And most terrifying at all, a rare few will swear that it didn't come from nowhere after all. No. Much worse. It came from a girl. A terrified little girl. But not quite right. Maybe, something that looked like a girl... on the surface.

20 OC Questions

💀 Has your OC ever lost anyone to death? Multiple people? People close to them? How does the loss make them feel?

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

☄️ Does your OC believe in fate and destiny or do they think it’s a load of garbage? Would they ever get this fortune told? What would a fortune-teller tell them about their future?

📓 Write a typical diary/journal page by your OC! (or if you’d rather not, describe their journal. Do they keep one, why?)

⚖️ What is the biggest crime your OC has committed? Are they a theif, a cheat, a liar? What is the smallest, most petty crime they’ve committed? Or do they not do crime at all?

💰 If your OC had all the money they could ask for what would they do with it? Where would they go and what would they buy? Are they the only one who benefits from this wealth?

🤕 What is the worst injury your OC has ever suffered? Do they have any scars or lasting physical reminders of it? Do they get sick often or have any lasting medical conditions?

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

🎨 Is your OC artistic? Can they draw or paint or do they prefer another medium? Are they a writer or musician or do they do something else? Give us a quick run down of what they can get creative with!

💧 What makes your OC lose hope, what makes them give up and feel helpless? Have they ever given up on something really important or let go of a dream? What are some of their biggest regrets? Would they ever try again (if they’re able to)?

🧠 Talk about your OCs mental health! Do they have any specific triggers or ways to practice self care? What are some things that are more difficult for them to do because of their mental health?

✨ If your OC were a deity of some kind, what would they represent? What do they look like? How are they worshipped and what offerings would they expect? What are their places of worship like? Their followers? Their teachings?

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indescisive? How do they wrap their presents?

💗 Relationships? Who are their friends, their family relations, lover(s), foes? What sort of personalities really tick them off and what others do they like? Is there anything that’d ruin a friendship for them?

🕰️ Has there been an event that happened in your OCs past that affects their future or one that they think about still? Is this a bad event or a good one? What are a few of their childhood memories they can recall?

🗣️ What are the most painful words that can be said to your OC to utterly break them? What are the words that you could tell them to cheer them up? Maybe some advice to give them the boost they need!

👽 Describe your OC as if they were an urban legend or myth!

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

⚡ What are your OC’s phobias? Is there any reasoning behind these? How do they calm themselves down after getting scared? What are they like when they’re afraid? Is there any chance of them overcoming their fears?

WTW Secret Santa 2024

Happy Holidays, Megan (@thousand-page-dreams). Surprise, you're my target!

For my present, I wrote a short scene based on this excerpt you posted from your project, Glass Butterflies. I saw the potential for angst and decided to run with it. I hope you enjoy it and it's not too much of a downer.

The letterman smells like sweat, grass stains, and shampoo. And despite himself, Aaron pulls it into his frail, dark fist. It isn’t soft, anymore. Not really. But he fumbles for the initials embroidered on the breast: KC. He’s not far away. But it feels so impossible to be near him. Yesterday he saw a girl—blonde and loud and perfect—wearing her boyfriend’s jacket at the game, his steel-corded arms wrapped around her slender shoulders, and Aaron wanted to scream. The jacket was too big for her, dipping below her hips and hitting her thighs. But, in the autumn air, it looked like she was draped in his wings. Sometimes Aarons wants to carve KC’s name into the walls of his chest. Sometimes Aaron wants a world where he doesn’t have to. He leans back and tries to catch his failing breath. If KC could see him now… He’s not far away. There are stars stuck to KC’s ceiling. Constellations of plastic—spilling out in unsatisfying clumps and trails. So naive. A childish facsimile of the tapestry buried under those field lights. Aaron reaches up with the hand not creasing KC’s name as if to touch them, but he doesn’t come close. So he lets his wrist splatter onto his chest and rolls to bury his nose in KC’s scent. The girl in the jacket didn’t know what she had. Didn’t know how beautiful it was to be so effortlessly someone’s. It's unfair. Aaron doesn’t feel himself sitting up. He only feels his arms snaking their way into the sleeves. And then he’s a chrysalis, curled up on KC’s bed, staring up at a star he can imagine is a witness. He wants to stay like this forever. But KC isn’t far away. There’s something desperate in him, he thinks. He shouldn’t want this much.

This was really fun, and it was surprisingly refreshing to write something that wasn't for one of my WIPs. I can't wait to do it again next year.

Find The Word Tag

Thank you @charlesjosephwrites for tagging me. I need to find the words jealous, able, nerves, and who.

Jealous

"Jack is an ass," she confessed. "But he only said that cuz he's jealous." Isaac had to laugh at that. As if Jack would ever want anything that Isaac had.

Able

“Got a plan yet?” Diode asked. Vestige turned back to see the group huddled behind him, waiting. “I should be able to get in through roof access,” he said. “If we’re lucky I can shut down any equipment inside before they notice it’s happened. “And if we’re unlucky?” Harpy probed. “Then you’re back up. As usual.”

Nerves

Jack just grunted. He hardly felt a thing. Years of his powers had scorched his nerves into chicken wire. Now you could slash him with a knife and he’d only think to complain about the bloodstain.

Who

“Oh, greater good my ass!” Indigo screamed. It felt good to scream. “Whose greater good? It’s not mine. It’s certainly not those ‘street urchins’ out there.” She gestured to the alley blindly. “What gives you the right to claim the greater good? Who made you the moral authority here?”

I will tag @wingedcatastrophe @asablehart and @lexiklecksi to find the words page, wild, desperate, and sun.

Avatar
Reblogged

Spotify Wrapped Prompts!

I saw this floating around tumblr, and wanted to steal it myself lol

Send me a number 1-100, and I’ll write a lil snippet based on the corresponding song!

Might not get around to this for a bit but it sounds fun.

Bringing this back.

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games. to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push my heel into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

Avatar
Reblogged

nine lines nine people tag

thank you @talesofsorrowandofruin for tagging me!

rules: post nine lines of writing, then tag nine people!

here's something from my last writing session for when comes the dawn:

Thetis rose from her seat like some great beast on the prowl, slinking across the floor with her eyes trained to the back of Leda’s head. “It would be my pleasure.” Her teeth snapped shut before unfurling into a grin, eyes darkening as she left the office.
Fenice motioned for the door to be shut and a curt order that she not be disturbed for a while before turning her attention back to Leda. “Will this be a problem?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“This—” Fenice gestured vaguely at the corner where Thetis sat. “Whatever this is, it will not be a distraction, will it?”
Leda drew a cross above her heart. “On my honor, it will not be.”
“Good.”

tagging:

WTW DELIVERS OUR 45TH EVENT!

For this year’s holiday season, we’ll be hosting a Secret Santa gift exchange event! Like last year’s event, participants will be randomly assigned to creat a gift for a fellow participant. These creations can be anything: from playlists to graphics to art to fics. The event will run from DECEMBER 1 to JANUARY 1 with the following schedule:
  • SIGN-UPS : 12/1 - 12/8
  • TARGETS ANNOUNCED : 12/9
  • PROGRESS CHECK-IN : 12/20
  • GIFT EXCHANGE : 12/25 - 1/1
NOTE : the GIFT EXCHANGE period will run in the RECIPIENT’S timezone.

HOW TO PARTICIPATE

  • be a part of the wtw discord server and reach CROOK aka LVL 5
  • fill out the sign-up form, which will be linked in the server
  • wait until you receive your assignment from a mod, then start creating!
  • send your gift to your target within the GIFT EXCHANGE period
  • if you choose to post your gift to tumblr, tag your posts as #WTWEVENT and #WTWCOMMUNITY
  • wait for your post to be added to the queue
  • NSFW content will not be posted to the blog

Please do not hesitate to speak or join the server. We are extremely welcoming and active. But if you cannot follow these simple rules then you cannot participate in our events.

THERE'S SNOW PLACE LIKE WTW, JOIN OUR SERVER HERE! (discord.gg/earlgrey)

Avatar
Reblogged

Find the Words Tag

Thanks for the tag @oh-no-another-idea!

My words were sound, beyond, drew, and skin. Here are some snippets from my wip The Magician and Ms. Psychic!!

sound

“It sounds like you could use a break.” “Yeah.” Mayor Redwood sighed. “I could.” “Oh!” I clapped my hands together excitedly. “I know!” I yoinked a pad of sticky notes and a pen from the supplies on the mayor’s desk. I tossed the pen cap back on the desk in front of him, and I stuck my tongue out in concentration as I did my best to make my handwriting readable. “What are you doing?” Mayor Redwood asked. “Gotta let Ms. Psychic know there’s gonna be a change of venue.” “What are you talking about?” I couldn’t help but grin as I patted him on the shoulder. “We’re gonna get you some ice cream!”

beyond

Bright studio lights smacked me right in the face as I threw open the studio doors, but I squinted through the pain and kept moving forwards, beyond the startled camera crew and up to the desk where the morning news anchors was so focused in on giving his afternoon news report he hadn’t noticed me yet. He leaned forwards on the table on both forearms, reading from the teleprompter with the calm tone of someone who hadn’t yet realized he was standing in between me and my grand plan to take over the city. “Hey, fuckhead.” I kicked the side of the desk. “This is my show now.” He turned to me slowly, his mouth still gaping open like he was about to continue with his news-read. His eyes widened as he started up at me, but he didn’t budge from his seat. “Get out of my way.“ I crossed my arms, and I tapped my foot impatiently. “Or else someone’s going to be walking out of here with a few less bones.”

drew

“Why are you doing this?” she asked. I pursed my lips. “If you would’ve actually let me read my monologue, I would’ve gotten to that part by now.” I waved my hands through the air, exasperated. Ms. Psychic stared at me blankly. I drew in a shaky breath. “I’m obviously doing this because you’re a bitch who needs to be taught a lesson. Why else would I—” “No, I meant all this.” Ms. Psychic gestured vaguely at our surroundings, like that clarified anything. “Do you think things are going to suddenly be different one of these times if we keep going through this same routine?”

skin

“I’m not gonna hurt any kids. That’s fucked up. I just need to scare one particular brat.” I slipped a knife into my hand with the flick of my wrist, and I tapped the tip of the blade on the counter for emphasis. “I might peel the skin off your fingers if you make me wait too much longer for my answers, though.” The guy behind the counter gulped and snapped his attention towards his computer. “I’ll see if it’s still in the system.”

I'll (softly) tag @kitty-is-writing, @writinglyra, @winglesswriter, @dontjudgemeimawriter, and anyone else who sees this and wants to play!

Your words are jealous, able, nerves, and who.

Avatar
Reblogged

The Problem is We're People - WIP (Re)Introduction

That's right, guys. The project you all know and love as Project Ichor has a real, actual name! And I think it's time that you learned it. So, I've made a handy dandy presentation.

Thank you to anyone who's been following this project. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist.

The Problem is We're People - WIP (Re)Introduction

That's right, guys. The project you all know and love as Project Ichor has a real, actual name! And I think it's time that you learned it. So, I've made a handy dandy presentation.

Thank you to anyone who's been following this project. Please let me know if you'd like to be added to a taglist.

Avatar
Reblogged

Today is a bad executive dysfunction day, so I'm turning writing into a game:

For every note (like, reblog, reply) this gets, I'll sprint for a minute!

ROYGBIV Tag Game

Thanks so much to @cataclysmic-writer for tagging me in this. Sorry that it took me so long to get around to it. All these lines are from Project Ichor.

Rules: Find a sentence in your WIPs with each color.

Red

“Cheapshot!” Jack yelled, hunching over with a start. But his right hand was raised. “I’m fucking bleeding, dude.” Isaac saw the stain of red spreading over Jack’s tape and felt his chest sink.

Orange Copper

He heard a noise beside him. Turning, he saw Soul Sister land in a squat beside him, throwing a copper braid over her shoulder with a twist of her neck.

Yellow

Jack's chest was stained with yellow-brown bruises, and the scars that branched across his nerves were raised and pink. But if he knew that, he didn't care.

Green

She slid through the unlocked window and landed with a light patter on the kitchen floor. It was dark except for the green glow of the stove light.

Blue

Most of them were worthless—scraps of receipts and budgets and printed-out emails from suppliers for the front-of-house operation—but among the wreckage Vestige found a crumpled note written in blue ballpoint pen.

Indigo

Indigo sighed. Another test, then. She squinted through the dark. “The cameras,” she noted. “The lights changed.”

Violet

The lights were off except for the neon, shining through the front door and refracting back, casting everything in a faint violet haze.
You are using an unsupported browser and things might not work as intended. Please make sure you're using the latest version of Chrome, Firefox, Safari, or Edge.