WRITING CHALLENGE #1

As we said last month, we are starting something new! Every month, we will rotate between having a development challenge and a writing challenge. They help us get to know how characters better and I'd say that's definitely a good thing! Thank you to everyone who participated in last month's development challenge.

For this month's writing challenge, post a one-shot below, for any character, using this quote as inspiration:

The human mind is truly the scariest thing of all.

You have all month to post in this challenge! Post with as many or a few characters you want! Try to get creative!

To answer a question asked in Discord: writing challenges do not count toward AR!

Writing Challenge #1

The Reason

June 1st, 2018
Early Morning
Lestrange Castle
Dorset

Everything was fine. That was what didn't make sense. Everything was completely fine, and that was how it was supposed to go. That was the best thing that could've happened. That Desirae, and Jack we're both oaky. But nothing was going to hurt either one of them. But she hadn't lost them. That… Honesty, Andromeda didn't know if she had it in her to lose them. She quit practicing for a reason. She and walked away from something that she spent her entire life up until that point, working for. She walked away from all of that, and she knew that she didn't really know how to explain that, she just knew that she couldn't do it anymore and yet, she had. She broken her rules for them, for Desirae and for Jack. And she knew that she shouldn't have. She that she should've just found her someone else. That she should've called in a favor gotten her someone that she trusted, but she hadn't. She thought that she could do it. That she can handle it. And there's been a moment in there when where she honestly hadn't known if she could. If she was going to be able to keep it together. And that it been a terrifying thought. That she wasn't going to be able to do it. Her own mind was working against her. Replaying a scene in so strikingly similar, only it hadn't ended the same. It had ended in death. It had ended in tragedy, and that was something that Andromeda carried with her every single day. That was something that she couldn't just take away. But she could not think about and just pretend didn't happen. If she thought that was going to work, she would've done it already. She would've let her self forget. That wasn't an option. Forgetting would never be an option.

Andromeda thought that it would have been easier. That it would have been so much easier… But that wasn't something that she was going to do. Her sister had done that. Her sister still did that, and Andromeda knew how dangerous that was. She knew how easy it was for Narcissa to just, turn it off. It was like flipping a switch for her. To go from caring, and warm, and genuine, to the ice queen that people often got to see. Andromeda knew that she had frozen over. That since last summer she had frosted over, that she wasn't warm anymore. Her entire being had changed. Where there had once been warmth and sunshine, words that had sounded like honey, and eyes that were like a melted chocolate on a summer day. Now they were cooler, the green that used to fleck through them, shone a little brighter now. Cooler. Harsher. There was little warmth to her smile, and while her words were still soft, they were colder. Like a fresh fallen blanket of snow. Andromeda knew that she had changed, that all of her being had changed, and that was why she didn't do this anymore. She wasn't the same person. Not entirely. There was something about dying that changed you. Something about being responsible… Because Andromeda had killed people before. People that she had never lost sleep over… People that hadn't mattered so much to her… But Blair… Blair had mattered, and she had killed her. She was the reason that she was dead. Killing someone that you loved… That changed a person.

It would have been easier, if she could have forgotten. But she could never forget. She didn't want to. That was the hardest part of all of this. That she didn't want to forget. That she wanted to feel it. That she wanted to feel the hurt, the pain. That she wanted to feel the way that she felt, because it was a constant reminder. That she had to live for both of them. That there were two little boys that were going to start calling her Mama any day now, that needed her. Andromeda could make herself set it aside. She could make herself live with it. Carry it. It was a weight that she had come to be accustomed to on her shoulders. And then she had done the unthinkable, and she had taken on the weight of the world on top of it. People hadn't understood that, she was sure that even Rodolphus, who probably knew the real her better than anyone else did, didn't understand why… Why she had given up everything. Why she had walked away. But she understood. She knew. And delivering that baby… She had known. She knew why she had walked away. And she knew that it wasn't fair. That tonight shouldn't have been about her. But she couldn't shake it. Any of it. She couldn't get it through her head that things were going to actually be okay. Not when all that she kept seeing, was a light, and Blair's face, and knowing that everything was different now. That everything had changed.

Nothing was black and white… Not anymore. There was a fine line between Death, and Life, and she had known before, but she thought that she understood even better now, just how difficult this was to handle. Just how much Death could change a person. Making her way up to the nursery she wiped her hand over her face again, and she could feel the blood. She knew that she was covered in it. From the baby, from Desirae… It was all over her dress, Narcissa's dress. It was all over her face. It was in her hair. She had blood all over her, and it was okay. Rationally she knew that it was okay. That it was blood that had given life. Not taken it away. But it was still… It was there. It was in her head. The fact that she had died. That she had done this exact thing. Almost a year ago now. And she had died. It had killed her. And Desirae was okay. Desirae was fine. And Jack… Jack would be okay too. She would make sure of that. That he was okay. But it wasn't that easy. She couldn't just tell her mind that it was going to be that easy. It was searching. Looking for anything that said that something was going to happen. That something terrible was going to come next. And she couldn't stay there. She couldn't let it creep in on her thoughts. Not when she knew that she needed to be here right now. That she needed to see her babies. Both of them. She needed to hold them. To know that they were okay. That she was here…

And she knew where she had gone yesterday. She knew that she had gone to see Blair. That she had spent quite a long time sitting there, leaning against a headstone. Looking for some sort of strength… Something that she could hold on to, to get her through this. And she would swear, until her dying day, that she had found it. That sitting out there, she knew that she hadn't had a choice but to go back. That she had made a promise. And that it was time to start trying to fulfill it. Taking care of everyone, meant that she had to take care of all of them. Everyone that she cared about. And she knew better than to think that she was going to get to renege on that promise. She had made it, she would stick to it. Take care of everyone. She had spent some time talking to that headstone, and now she was going upstairs. She was going to hold her babies…

Pushing the door open she moved to stand between the two cribs and she looked down at both of them. Knowing that they were more precious to her than nearly anything else in the entire world. They were her babies, and they hadn't asked for the way that they had come into the world. They hadn't asked for things to be the way that they were, but that was how it was. There was no other option. Instead of picking them up, she ran a hand over both of them, and pressed a kiss to her fingertips, and then to each of their hearts. She wouldn't wake them. That wasn't fair. But she had missed bedtime. Andromeda didn't like that. She didn't like missing parts of the routine, of messing with their routine. She might have been the Minister for Magic, but she was still their mother, and she was still going to do everything that she could herself. She was still going to take care of them. Tonight though, tonight she needed to finish taking care of herself.

Heading down the hall to their bedroom Andromeda started pulling her hair out of the knot that she had tied it in and looked over at the bed when she made it in the door. It was the middle of the night after all… But she headed for their bathroom, and the shower. She wouldn't go to bed covered in blood. Not tonight. Not after this. And she needed to take a shower. She needed to cry. Fighting a war with yourself took a lot out of a person. It made it harder to focus than really necessary. It had made the entire process a challenge, and she knew that it wasn't fair. She knew that she needed to do better. She knew that she had to do something that was going to make it easier. She needed to apologize. She would. Tomorrow. Later today… She would apologize for everything, for the way that she had been. But she had to win this war with her own mind first. She had to get through this, so that she could move on.

As she stepped into the shower, she knew that there was only one solution. Never again. She wouldn't deliver any more children. She wouldn't put herself through that again. She wouldn't hold herself to that and worry about letting someone else down. That wasn't okay. She couldn't do that. She couldn't put someone else in danger. Because she knew that she had. She knew that she wasn't okay, and she had done it anyway… Stepping into the stream of scalding hot water, still wearing her dress, Andromeda let it beat down on her, cleansing her of everything that had happened today. The bloody water washing down the drain was all that she could have asked for when it came to getting rid of whatever it was that she was feeling. If she could wash it all away, maybe she could forget… At least for a little while. She could find him… She could go to sleep… And maybe, just maybe, she could be okay in the morning. Or maybe she wouldn't sleep at all… Maybe she'd just end up wandering the maze for a while, getting lost in something that wasn't her head… 

What was it like to be human, she wished that she knew. She had not been in so long that the feeling was not something that she remembered, it was hard to try and remember past the pain, past those first few moons. She had been young, too damned young and yet it was where she learned the most important things of her life. She learned what family was what it meant to be a part of the pack and she learned her place. She didn’t belong to them, with them, but they watched over her, helped her, took care of her. They were her guardians, but she was never one of them. It was one night, about a year before she had been found that everything changed. She was approaching what she was sure was her fourteenth year, and had flowered, had gone into her heat, like the other of the pack, but hers was different, there was no Alpha for her to mate with.

Instead she had gone off on her own like the others had done before her, to die, to wait, to live. She knew where to go, where to hide and how to hunt. She would fish and fight, she struggled to find peace when she was alone. Words and thoughts, flashes of memories that were not hers and yet somehow belonged to the mind within. A battle of two within one body. The wolf that wanted the pack, and the girl that wanted home. She had no idea which would win in the end, but as she watched her reflection in the river she couldn’t help but run her hands over her face. She was not wolf, not a girl, and not yet a woman; but yet there she was.

It had rained that morning, and the ground was still fresh, her small feet leaving footprints in the wet earth as she moved towards the cave where she had slept the night before. It smelled of wolf, of death. A lone wolf had been there, but based on the prints they had not been there in at least a week, so she made herself at home. There was no scent on the wind, so she built a small fire and washed the cloth that she wore in the water before drying it.

She had been sleeping when she heard it, the low growl was not of one of the pack. Black eyes loomed over her, no doubt smelling of the wolves on her and she moved slowly, against the wall. She knew how to handle the aggressive pack members. Things to avoid doing, but this was a mystery and someone she didn’t know. So she was cautious, but when the wolf snapped at her, she did what her body told to do, she ran. Her feet and lungs screamed at her as she scrambled running, trying her best to get away from it, knowing what would await her if she was caught.

Climbing over a rock she got through a rock face and sat on the lip, thinking that she was safe and took a moment to compose herself. She felt it’s breath behind her a moment later and they were off again, rushing through the river, over a hill and through the trees. She ran, her muscles growing tired she fell as she heard the snarl behind her. Grabbing a stick nearby she grabbed it and pushed, gasping as it made contact and she looked into the eyes as they softened just before the light faded. The rain began to softly fall as another wolf appeared, the Alpha. She pushed it off of her and shook, her hands, before running them through the wet grasses, and them moving into the water near by to clean herself. As she emerged from the water, she watched the pack and smiled with glee as the Alpha had joined them and was now licking her face. The rain began to go harder and she left with the pack, leaving the mess behind.

As she faded back to reality, Bex looked to a wolf felt that was near by, handing on the wall. Not as a trophy but a reminder of the life that she left behind. Of the humanity that she almost lost. She had been found, and saved, and it had brought her to Tess, and to Vic. reaching her hand out to the pelt she remembered the day that she had done this, a wolf caught in her trap that would have died either way, but it still hurt to think of it. She put her full hand on the pelt and sighed as the rain began to pour onto her little cabling. ”Forgive me, my brother. May your spirit run with the great mother.”

Holocene

And at once I knew I was not magnificent
Hulled far from the highway aisle
(Jagged vacance, thick with ice)
I could see for miles, miles, miles

Breathing was easier these days. That was one thing he constantly noticed. It was like the first day after recovering from a cold, it was constantly on the forefront of his mind. Living had been hard for a long time, that was no secret, and the longer that went on the harder it was to remember times in which he'd been fine. It tainted his memories. Whenever he thought of the happy moments with his mother, he couldn't help but remember her death and how much it had hurt. Whenever he thought of the few good relationships he'd had, he always recalled their terrible endings. Friendships made him think of absence, family made him think of loss. Life was hard and there was no respite in the past, and the future didn't exist. Not for him, at least. So when he recovered? He never stopped noticing it, he never forgot hot truly bad things could be. Somehow, he thought it made him feel more grateful for his wellbeing at the moment. It made him appreciate the little things. Every second in which he was lucid and warm and his mind was clear. How truly wonderful it was to be fine for once. 

That was not to say that he didn't have bad days, but they were lesser now. They'd gone from five days a week to three, to one. Now he had a bad day once every few weeks, two weeks generally. Other days he was fine. He was fine with Kirk, he was fine on the ship, he was fine on the island, he was fine in the sun and the fresh air. The days passed, one after the other, but it didn't feel like time passed at all. This was another world that didn't obey such common laws as the passing of seconds. He could read, he could sleep, he could paint or do small experiments or talk or make love. He could eat. For the first time in so many months, maybe a year, he could eat properly without a single complaint. Not physically and not mentally. He had flesh on his bones and his eyes weren't as glazed over as they had once been. He could talk. He had long conversations with Kirk, laying on the sand, sitting in the sun, late at night and warm in bed. He could go on his old rants, pacing and laughing and complaining. It had been so long since he'd felt so human. So utterly and completely himself.

His days were rather normal, eventful compared to his previous life but here it was always like that. He lived on a pirate ship. Nowadays he left the cabin every day, went outside, spent time with Kirk and with the crew. He was far from the catatonic thing Kirk had brought on board. They either went to the island or stayed on the ship and sometimes they made port. Kirk delighted in showing him new places. Warm, sunny, beautiful places that would get him out of his own head and into the world. O loved it. He loved seeing all the new colours and people and the customs. The wonder he felt, the warm joy. It was nothing like bursting with happiness, it was more like being submerged in a calm safety. They explored, or rather, Oriel explored. Kirk had seen everything there was to see. He told O everything he knew and helped him find out about what he could not explain. Being a pirate never deterred that, he usually only smuggled things. When he left on jobs... well, it would be safer if O went to the island until Kirk fetched him, but he refused to. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he would not survive Kirk's death. By now, he knew how to predict his own spiral. His own end.

But life was good. He could honestly, calmly say that. Life was good here, with a man that could not love him and who he could not love back. Life was good away from home, hiding from the past and the horror. Life was good here, sitting wrapped in a shawl on the silky sands of the beach, watching the sunrise in India. They had spent the night here. They didn't usually. Kirk's business was dangerous, they never stuck around for long. This was just refilling provisions, however. The inn was right behind him and Kirk was handling something with Number One. Oriel was fine here, by himself, by the sea. Wasn't that something he never thought he'd say? Oriel was fine. Oriel was fine alone. Oriel was fine alone and looking at the sea, as if he hadn't tried to drown himself less than half a year ago. Been about to. Kirk saved him. It didn't matter anymore. O was free. After so long, he was free from his own mind, which, knowing the hell that could await him in England, he still thought was the most terrifying prison of all.

Writing Challenge #1

@contessa

a lone wolf shall perish but the pack survives

Western Sky Stables June 14, 2018 It was a peaceful sort of existence. The kind that she had here. There wasn't all that much that Tess had to worry about. But she knew that their own lives hung in this fragile sort of existence. One where there wasn't anything that they could do about it. But one that they were going to have to try and find the answers for nonetheless. She didn't think that anyone else was all that worried about it. They weren't concerned about the same things that she was. And she thought that that was okay. It was her job to worry. It was her job to make sure that everything was going smoothly. It was her job to make sure that no one got hurt. And getting hurt was something that was all too easy to do. They were vulnerable in ways that ordinary people were not. Because they simply were not ordinary. They were extraordinary. They were something other than human, and while Tess knew that there were plenty of people that looked down on that, she was not going to be one of them. And she wouldn't tolerate being around people that were.  None of them had asked for this life. They were not the people that had inflicted this upon themselves. But it was not a cure. She would not think of it in such a way. They were going to have to deal with whatever it was that came next, with grace, and poise, and Tess thought that so long as they carried their shoulders back, and their heads high, there was nothing that they were going to be able to do to stop them. She wasn't ruthless, she didn't want power of any kind, she just wanted humans to stop looking at them like they were something else. Because they were still human. They were just extraordinarily human, instead of being normal. There was nothing normal about them, and Tess thought that that made them both unique and intriguing, and quite dangerous. They were human, and they would always be human. But there were times when they were less than that. Times when there was a monster that lurked, waiting for the opportunity to do something. To make a move.  Her grandfather had told her long ago that there was both good, and bad in everyone. That everyone had the potential to be either, and that it was their choices, far more than their natural born instincts, that made them what they were. Tess was a wolf. She had always been a wolf. Even before she was marked as one. Before that first moon that had changed her, and she had lost that sense of self... Never again. Never again would she lose that sense of self, and she was determined to make it so that they were all going to keep their minds. Human minds, in the form of a werewolf, was not an easy thing. It was not something that you could actively control. Just a sense of awareness. Enough so that they didn't attack anyone else. But knowing that you were the monster that parents used to keep little children in their beds at night... That wasn't something that you wanted to be aware of when you had claws, and fur. There was a reason that werewolves often bore so many scars. Years of hurting oneself, years of inner turmoil taken out on the only thing that they could get ahold of on a full moon.  There was a reason that a lone wolf would never make it in the end. There had to be someone there to share the burdens with. Someone there to lean on. Or else a lone wolf would die young. A pack would survive. It took a pack to survive something like this, and Contessa wanted them to know that they always had somewhere to turn. Somewhere to come home to. This place was just as much for wolves as it was for horses. Especially on a full moon. There were enough forests here that they didn't have to be on top of one another, they weren't going to risk hurting one another. But they could choose to run as a pack if they wished. Sometimes it was easier, to try and keep ahold of yourself. To not fight that human mind that the potion allowed them to retain, if there were others around. Others that were going through the same thing. Even with years of practice, it wasn't something that you were just okay about. It got easier, she had gotten better at hiding it, fighting off some of the symptoms with other potions and remedies. But it would always come to be. And a wolf, human though they might be, at the end of the day still needed a pack to survive.