Sunday Writing Prompt #228 “It’s All In The Title”

I am not a man who visits desire.

A shriveled fruit, a pillar of salt

my emptiness splits me like a moat.

I am the alter ego who got away.

a crippled fetus, a dissident fugue

the light shrugs me off like a ghost.

I sleep with the corners tucked in

that I can keep the darkness close

for in that darkness I have no distinction.

I haven’t written very much poetry lately nothing that you haven’t seen so I am very rusty



Writing Prompt #205 “Stories By 5” and Wordle #153

Week 153

When measured against his dreams Qensai’s successes were minimal. He’d lived the whole of his short life with his chin to his chest, insubstantial and echolalic. She was an exclamation, singing in bedlam, her malachite eyes stripped him entirely of pretense. Her hair was quarrelsome, caught in a self-perpetuating wind. The way it spilled over her face, half-heartedly, reminded Qensai of the masks worn at masquerades. She was everything he was not. She was an epiphany worth the price of all his former comforts. She swallowed him up, even the bits rotten from disuse. She remade him at his soul’s bequest and through her devotion even his demons made their way into the light. He became such a different sort of man that even his family scrambled to recognize him. Happiness suited him. His narrow margins expanded into possibility and success came in the wake of a newly found ardor. His skin took on the sheen of a perpetual solstice. He loved as he had never loved before and the whitewashed walls of his heart grew moist and red. She was the mirror in which all his good intentions were reflected. Their love was palpable, visible to all and they, in their absorption, were immune to the machinations of those who sought to divide them. Their love endured all the challenges that fell upon it though not without the acquisition of a few scars. They grew old together and when the time came they died together, not a second between them.

A 250 word story. I would like to learn how to write stories but I haven’t got very much patience so I decided to start with very short ones! I even decided to write something squishy and happy for once.

Wordle #152 and Writing Prompt, April 23rd – Dialogue pairing

Week 152.png

Full of attitude and unwarranted inflections Officer Grear enters the room, weapon drawn. His heart is a gasp, a bloodied, ill-fated moon. He takes aim and fires at the wardrobe just missing his target but arriving succinctly at his point. The weapon is silent but the emission of light and the smoking hole is sobering.

“You are taking the situation too lightly. Liberosis is reserved for times of peace.” Officer Grear regards Officer Noon, who is composed given his predicament.

“This has nothing to do with peace. This is prejudice. This is petulance. There is no excuse for what our government intends. This is genocide and I want no part of it.” Officer Noon looks truly pained. This is the first time he’s ever gone against his superiors more vexing still he is hoping to win Grear to his side. If he succeeds he’ll be condemning them both to death.

“Why risk our lives over a bunch of abnormals? They are disposable. We’re all disposable. Their deaths are going to bring peace to our people.” Grear lowers his weapon. His eyes remain fixed.

“The world we’re creating isn’t one I want to live in. It won’t stop with the mutants. The emperor is a paranoid man, he’ll find a new enemy, a new obsession.” Noon steadies himself without any obvious movement.

The tall soldier takes aim again. “I won’t miss the next time. You are very close to committing treason Officer Noon.”

“No I don’t imagine you will but killing me won’t banish your guilt given how long we’ve been friends.” Can words really undue years of brainwashing?

“Can you still call us friends after this?!” Grear asks his voice rising slightly.

“I don’t agree with your methods. I don’t even like you that much at the moment but we’re still friends. If I really meant nothing to you, your hand wouldn’t be shaking.” It’s a gamble provoking Grear, the man takes himself entirely too seriously.

Grear drops his gun cursing under his breath. “You’re not leaving me a lot of options here Mark. We have orders. This afternoon Anwar ceases to exist…every house…every mutant…every f-fucking jar of marmalade.” Grear’s voice breaks and for a moment he seems confused.

“You know as well as I that mutants are people. Their condition is not contagious, it’s a product of evolution and environment. They’re not a threat of any kind. If we only treated them with some goddamn respect we wouldn’t be in this predicament.” Noon plows forward eager to say his peace and emboldened by the other’s use of his first name.

“But the uprising…we need to set an example.” Grear’s voice has a pleading quality. Why won’t Noon see reason?

“An example? You want to use violence to discourage the use of violence? They’re just defending themselves.” Noon’s tone is cautiously sarcastic.

“When you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous but we’re well past negotiating with them.” Grear says settling into the conversation. Maybe there is still hope of winning Mark back to his side.

“They don’t stand a chance against the empire…it’s suicide…they are desperate for an alternative…as long as that alternative doesn’t require them to give up their freedom…they’ll negotiate it’s their best chance to survive.” It seems almost cruel to introduce doubt given the blood already on their hands.

“Even if you are right the others are out for blood. Not just the soldiers but the citizens. These mutants you care so much about are no better than vermin.” Grear is merely restating the propaganda but propaganda turned an entire populations on itself so it should suffice for one man.

“There is a photo in my left breast pocket take it out and look at it carefully.” Grear removes the photo almost tentatively and flips it over. “I found it in the last raid…their dead now…” The photo is ruined but the subjects are clear enough. It is a mother with her infant son. They are both mutants. Both deformed. Grear finds it uncomfortable viewing the image.

“What is she thinking?” Noon asks his voice is gentle but coaxing.

“How the hell should I know?! Her face is all fucked up I don’t even know where to look.” Grear snaps, his chest gripping.

“Look at her eyes…what is she feeling?” Noon rephrases but Grear doesn’t respond.

“What kind of life can someone like that have…killing them is merciful.” Grear says after a while. He’s seen something in the woman’s eyes, something that can’t be unseen.

“I suspect they would have had a very ordinary life…the reason their lives are such a struggle isn’t because their different…it’s because of intolerance…this whole fucking war is based on presumptions and superficiality.”

Although this is fictional I think it is relevant

Writing Prompt #203 “Letters to Death”


Dear Death,

Let’s start with the basics. Just how many reapers are out there and from whence do they come? Are you capable of maintaining multiple manifestations at once? Do you operate outside of time and space? Do you have a residence or do you reside in the living, a faithful and sometimes unwelcome companion? What of the afterlife have you seen it? Can you speak of it with impunity? Does the uncertainty of it eat you up inside? Are we already dead, caught in the residuum of a once formidable existence? Do we repeat the same life or do we live out countless lives? Is it true that I am everyone who has ever lived and ever will live? I read that somewhere once and it sounded plausible.

If all things contain their opposites are you responsible for births as well? Do you speak with the deceased, assuage their fears, offer council for the journey ahead? Does each person realize their own vision of the afterlife or do we simply end?

Sometimes I have dreams that I am death. In these dreams I know the other side and I guide souls across eased by my own understanding. If this is the true reality of death then it is not to be feared. It simply denotes a passage. If this is death than it is extricable from birth. Do these dreams mean anything? Are dreams the boundary between all realities, the interstices that bind ribs and consolidate hearts? Are we all psychopomps bound in an intangible labyrinth between what we blindly consider life and death?

Johnny Homogeneous

The Washbasin

Building 2
The sky splits into stitches of color
and in their wake my life dissolves.
I am only an impression,
spurious and effervescent.
I hold my breath, dipping my face
and all its particulars into the washbasin.

They say I have ruined myself with good intentions,
the need to be and not be simultaneously.
They say I am ugly, unworthy, distant.
How can one object to an opinion shared?

Death cannot be thwarted, held down, determined.
When I was still alive I could not imagine it
anything other than different but death
is the same except for the reversal of left and right.
Is it her face or mine and does it matter
who beget who now that we are both fully grown?

Wordle #148 and The Other Me

Week 148.png

Your cheeks heavy with lutalica
and the acerbic sting of mediocrity
leave me feeling helpless.
I have nothing to offer
the you who wants for everything.
(God how I hate when our faces
align and eclipse.)

I who am, by all accounts, insectile-meander
struck by the voracity of human greed
and more so by my own capacity for indulgence.
I wallow alongside you,
sober but not altogether sane.

You always knew how to skin a razor
and I am only a decoy anyhow.
Deep down I think you know
that we are just fractures of the same person
and that I allow your dominance
only because it shores up the cracks in my own ego.

You who are unassailable and instantaneous
could survive out in the open
with or without my consent
but I will always defy you
if only to quiet my fear of nonexistence.

Writing Prompt #197 “Special Collage and A World Apart 5″


I tried creating my character with the Sims. I am no artist and not very visual but I tried lol This character is creepy so you have been warned.

Character Name: Rhazien Sphynx
Nickname/Alias: Marrow-Fiend
Gender: male
Occupation: Collector
Location: Ragpicker’s Square Sigil
Alignment: chaotic neutral/evil
Birthday/Age: April 24th/28
Height: 6’3
Weight: 171 lbs
Body Type: athletic/lean
Hair (length, color, texture): about chin length, silver, thick, shaggy, silky
Eye Color: silver no pupil which gives him the appearance of blindness
Skin Color: white almost silver with no discernible pigmentation
Clothing: collectors wear a grey cassock like a monk, his favorite color palate is blue and silver though
Race: demon/human hybrid
Distinguishing Features: his eyes, his skin is so pale it is almost silver, he has the ability to morph and thus can take on a variety of unusual characteristics
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Relationship Status: single
Children: none
Personality: Rhazien’s unusual situation has led to psychic fractures much like what you’d see in persons suffering with PTSD. He is unstable and chaotic. He is at war with himself, struggling to cage the demonic impulses within him. Sometimes the impulses win. Traits: impulsive, loner, intelligent (though not always articulate), intense, self-confident/assured, forceful, unfriendly, cold, rough even violent, he lives a pretty spartan lifestyle and when he does earn money he tends to spend it quickly on stuff for his workshop, dexterous, mechanically-inclined, curious about religion and religious people
Likes: marrow, bones, gadgets, firewine, Arborean pears, Absinthe, old books, libraries, cathedrals, graveyards (he only eats of the freshly killed it is just the peaceful aspect), rain, tools
Dislikes: pity of any sort, committed relationships (he’s a loner), stupid people, children
Motivation: There are times when they still wish to be autonomous/times when they fight with each other. To visit different lands. To be an inventor. His attraction to religion and religious figures may be a desire of his human half to be redeemed.
Strengths: Now that the fusion is complete he has an elongated lifespan and ages very slowly, regenerative capabilities, increased stamina, speed, and strength. He can use hallucinatory magics (just looking too long into his eyes can induce hallucinations). He has the ability to change his physical characteristics.
Weaknesses: His psyche is dangerously unstable. He is sensitive to sunlight and heat.
History: Rhazien’s parents are deep into black magics and they worship a demonic entity named Marrow-Fiend. Marrow-Fiend’s essence is trapped within a sealed amulet, his physical body long gone. When Rhazien is twelve his parents succeed in breaking the seals on the amulet and transfer the demonic essence into their son’s body. The powerful force nearly tears the teen’s body apart and fractures his soul. For a year Rhazien is unconscious, barely hanging on to life. His physical form transforms, taking on some of the demons original characteristics, a process which would be excruciating if not for the fact that the youth is comatose. A year later Marrow-Fiend awakens in complete possession of the youth’s body, Rhazien’s soul is but the faintest flicker. Marrow-Fiend kills Rhazien’s parents sucking the marrow from their bones. He continues to rampage for weeks in an attempt to regain his powers and strengthen his weak human form.

One day Marrow-Fiend comes across one of Rhazien’s soul fragments he doesn’t know what the object is and picks it up thinking he can pawn the pretty bauble for a bit of jink in the morning. When he wakes up the jewel is gone, unbeknownst to him it has been reabsorbed by his host. Having regained a piece of his soul Rhazien is stronger and regains consciousness. The youth is too weak to fight or communicate with the demon but he is aware (partially) of what is happening. More time passes and Rhazien grows stronger, strong enough to maneuver his body when the demon is in an unconscious state. He begins searching for his soul fragments while the demon sleeps and with each assimilation he grows stronger. While the demon is awake he can do little more than observe the demon’s behaviors. With time he gains an awareness of the demon’s thoughts and feelings. When Rhazien is around 24 he collects the last of his soul-fragments but the damage is done, he has witnessed too much horror and trauma and has been exposed too long to the demon’s poisonous ideology. Unable to defeat the demon, they become one. He takes a job as a collector, gathering up the city’s dead and delivering the bodies to the Mortuary for a bit of jink. He drains all the fresh bodies of their marrow but otherwise he mostly subsists on animal marrow.

Writing Prompt #195 “A World Apart Part 3”

This is going to get long because I went all out creating factions, no joke even had hubby design the symbols. Let me know if you want to join!



All residents of the Mourning Cell belong to a faction called “Moirai”.

The Moirai deal with death and the afterlife. Whenever a sentient dies they appear to recover the body. On the first day they clean and restore the body to its prime state. On the second day they collect the memories of the deceased into a single crystal shard. On the third day they separate the soul from the body. Once the separation is complete an individual psychopomp guides the soul through a large, ancient, and unremarkable mirror at the center of their temple. On arrival to the other side they give the deceased three options.

The first option is to be reborn into a new life with no memory of their previous existence.

The second option is the chance to rewrite some element of their past. Occasionally the rewriting takes many years and once rewritten it can change history including the memories of those presently alive. Once the rewrite is finished (for better or worse) the deceased is again faced with death. If their goal was outstanding enough (and what constitutes outstanding has nothing to do with good or evil and is up the individual psychopomp) they are given two options. One they can receive a favorable rebirth. Two they can choose an individual from their previous life with whom they wish to be reunited in the next. If their rewrite is not considered outstanding their next life will be filled with challenges (or as the Moirai say opportunities to evolve).

The third option is to agree to a test. During the test the soul must recognize and reintegrate all projections of itself. If the soul succeeds they have the option of Nirvana (which is to say returning to the Universe) or becoming a God. If the soul fails they are simply reborn.

If the living should wish to have a funeral the bodies can be returned but only after the Afterlife Ceremony is complete. Most often the Moirai conduct the funeral services but occasionally loved ones wish to have a private ceremony. The necklace allows loved ones to view precious memories.

The Moirai have very few codes of conduct. The main one is respect for the dead. It is considered an offense worthy of banishment to desecrate, in any way, a corpse. Some believe the Moirai are necrophiliacs but this is not true and any such behavior is forbidden. In fact, Moirai who engage in such acts often take ill and die shortly afterwards. They call this illness “The Defiling”.

The Moirai wear black robes. Females wear black veils and males wear a black mask over their eyes. They spend many hours a day in secret training to ensure that their soul and consciousness will remain intact when entering the Great Beyond. As crossing the dead over is extremely taxing the psychopomp is always given three days of rest afterwards. On the first day they bathe in Marrow Brine which is near their settlement and drink a nutritious broth (they do not eat solid food on the first day). On the second day they sleep a full 29 hours. They are allowed to spend the third day, however, they wish.

Many assume that the Moirai are a morbid death-obsessed lot but actually they are a content and happy faction by and large. Knowing what happens after death takes a lot of the fear and worry out of life. Despite their dress, which they wear as a matter of respect, they are quite a lively bunch. They produce a good deal of art and literature. Individuals will often take long vacations to explore the other universes. They are not expected to be celibate and they are not ascetic in nature. They are not allowed to consume drugs during the Afterlife Ceremony or during funeral services but are otherwise free to partake if they so choose. They are also free to leave the faction at any time.

The Moirai do not proselytize as such but if they recognize the potential to become a psychopomp in another being they will mention it, usually in the form of a dream. Whether the individual joins or not is entirely up to them and they will only be informed once. Generally Void are the only ones who join the Moirai as the Void are born with the ability to open portals. That said they do accept other races into their faction. If an individual is unable to conduct the Afterlife Ceremony they help out with the funeral services.


The services of the Moirai are generally appreciated as their rapid corpse collection keeps disease from spreading and takes away all the confusion and hassle of handling dead bodies.


The Dread-Bringers resent the beautification of their deceased as it goes against their philosophical beliefs.

Faction Leader: Kasedan

Gender: Male

Race: Void


The Dread-bringers are a disparate group in Dire Cell that worship/protect the Demented Eremite. They perform sky burials. They hold festivals in the creature’s honor. They spend countless hours listening to the bird’s haunting melody (it is said that if one listens to the song long enough that the soul will temporarily leave the body). They wear the vulture’s bones in their jewelry.

To the Dread-bringers decay is the highest form of beauty, because decay represents the one irrevocable truth that we are all in transit. They believe this world is an illusion, an illusion that they mean shatter by whatever means necessary. Some believe violence is the only way to break free of the illusion. Some believe its psychosis (a psychosis they achieve by ingesting poisons/mind-altering substances). Some believe you must surrender yourself completely to the chaos and avoid habitual behaviors. Some believe that solving puzzles and complex problems allows one to see beyond the mundane into the abyss. Some believe in taking the body to the brink of death again and again (the out of body experience is thought to offer a glimpse into the abyss). Some believe in an Uncarved Block, return to innocence philosophy. Whatever the method they are typically a self-destructive lot. There is a sect within the group that is more outwardly violent but for the most part they seek only to shatter their own psyches by whatever means necessary.

Dread-bringers are fond of games and toys and are a notoriously curious bunch. They make the most fantastic and intricate puzzle boxes, taking threads from the various universes they have visited and weaving them into complex new realities.

While they have no specific dress code they tend to have a lot tattoos and piercings and also practice scarification. Unlike others of their race they do not wear blindfolds. It is rumored that the Dread-Bringers may be of mixed heritage (many of them are, others are of uncertain heritage) and therefore susceptible to the madness of looking into the void.

They don’t really have any allies per se, they are tolerated and there are some who are attracted to their self-destructive tendencies.

They claim many enemies but they rarely actually do anything to their so-called enemies. In fact, they spend quite a lot of time hanging out with their enemies at Empty Cell.

Faction Leader: Savant (but the leader changes quite regularly as they tend to be a disorganized group)

Gender: Female

Race: Void


13th Dimension

The 13th Dimension make their home in Whisper Cell. Little is known about the faction as they tend to be standoffish around outsiders and rarely travel beyond the boundaries of their settlement. The faction spends a substantial amount of time inside the cave that bares their name. They believe that the cave is home to a collective consciousness. According to their beliefs this consciousness existed even before the necessity of a god concept. They call this collective consciousness OM.

Others outside of the faction occasionally venture into the cave and while they all claim an experience of mind-expanding euphoria none have ever sensed a sentient presence. Members of the 13th Dimension drink a special concoction made of diluted razor-tongue venom which they call “Animus” and enter a meditative trance and it is this specific practice that allows them to convene with the OM. They refer to the experience as “esoteric orgasma”. The pleasure of the experience is said to exceed all pleasures of the soma. That said members of the faction are not prohibited orgasms of the traditional variety.

When they are not expanding their consciousness in the 13th Dimension they work in Fallow Farce’s largest (and only) library “Athenaeum”. The library is strait out of an Escher drawing with no regard for gravity or utility and yet visitors always leave with the book they came for whether they know it or not.

Spoken word is expressly forbidden in the library but members of the 13th Dimension are telepathic (a gift allegedly bestowed by the OM) so this does little to deter them from conversation. It is said that they can kill just by whispering the word “die”inside someone’s head. Luckily the 13th Dimension are not a particularly murderous lot. They are known occasionally to exercise their abilities of persuasion, the current factol however, disapproves of manipulation and members caught in the act of persuasion are subject to a psychic flogging.

The library is a public service and is very popular amongst scholars. Moirai donates many of the books housed in the library.

Their telepathic abilities have created a general feeling of mistrust for the faction.

Factol Leader: Vex
Gender: Female
Race: Void



The Bodhi make their home in Ghost Cell, the largest of the Void’s settlements.

The Bodhi believe that we are all asleep and that our dreams are a window into the true reality, the reality that is our awakened selves. Our awakened or dreaming selves possess vast reserves of imagination and power, they are the essence of possibility. Within our dreams we are gods. Our bodies are anchors tying us to an artificial reality. Our senses deceive us and prevent us from “true sight”.

Our bodies are fragile, our souls on the other hand are the very essence of the divine. If we had true sight we’d know that the greatest deception is that of our separate identities. According to the Bodhi we are one, we are everyone. The second greatest deception is the concept of time. We exist everywhere simultaneously. The body is a border, a divider, a veil but it is not veil that we can shed at will. The deceptions are themselves essential to our individuality. In order to be “I” we must assume an ego.

Unlike the Dread-Bringers who wish to shatter this illusion by whatever means necessary the Bodhi believe that we, as the universe, chose to divide. Finding the reason for division is the meaning of life. Some members of the faction theorize that ego-development is the universes’ version of an imaginary friend. Some believe we must learn all we can and evolve for its only through evolution that we may find our way back to our original state of one. Still others posit that just as animals know by instinct what they must do so too must we discover our specialty and pursue it until the very end of this life-cycle.

The Bodhi believe that once you understand the concept of connectedness you will lose your desire to harm.

The Bodhi wear masks and light grey linen robes.

The Bodhi are generally well-liked and are one of the largest factions.

Though their philosophy is in some ways similar to the Dread-Bringers they do not seek to shatter the illusion but rather to make the illusion as meaningful as possible.

Factol Leader: Artisan
Gender: Male
Race: Void



Cadence make their home in Blood Cull. Cadence is the only faction in which the number of Void and Chaos are even.

There is no absolute truth. There is no anthropomorphic father figure. No one can save us from ourselves. We don’t need to be rescued. Forgiven. Resolved. We assign meaning to life. We have a purpose. Destiny is not preordained, life is governed by choices, coincidences, and causation. Life is miraculous and absurd.

Morality is a social construct and no society has created a system of ethics that is more humane than nature. Only nature is capable of impartiality. Nature seeks balance. We judge because we possess ego and it is in the preservation of this identity that we lose our sense of connection. Our mistake is believing that identity is fixed. We are fluid. We are intermittent. We evolve. Because we can. Because we must. Because we are alive. Perfection is an illusion. Perfection is stagnation. We don’t choose our emotions. We can, however, choose to be constructive force as opposed to a destructive force. We are not born flawed. We do not sour with age. Innocence cannot be lost.

Self-improvement is a form of self-abuse. We are as intended. Our flaws are the source of our strengths/talents. Belligerence becomes determination. Anger becomes passion. Sorrow becomes compassion. Self-improvement results in repression, repression results in explosive hostility. We are not inherently evil, we simply lack awareness. The soul cannot be lost. The soul does not blacken or decay. The soul is pure. The soul is light. The soul is eternal. We are the soul. We exceed the boundaries of ego. We are the universe.

Social codes of conduct work through a system of guilt and intimidation. This only instills fear and it is fear that leads to violence and intolerance. These systems create the illusion of freedom, security, and balance. Underlying all these affectations is true wisdom, the wisdom of nature, the cadence.

Allies and Enemies
While the Cadence embrace the other factions their interest in balance is off-putting to the more extreme factions. Cadence is a branch of Bodhi but unlike the Bodhi the Cadence are more concerned with life than dreams.

Factol Leader: Rhazien
Gender: Male
Race: Chaos



Kalunrest make their home in Harlequin’s Mirror.

“God has many faces and many names but by any definition God is a contradiction. To become God I must become that contradiction.” -Draex of Kalunrest

Resistance is essential to growth, comfort is the enemy. Comfort stagnates. Comfort leads to habituation. Habit leads to tradition, to stagnation, to rigidity, to small-mindedness. Through opposition we advance. Sacrifices must be made for the sake of progress. “If faced with a challenge see it as a gift, an opportunity to expand the boundaries of reality itself.” -Draex of the Kalunrest

“At our very essence we are instinct. Society is a leash. I am no one’s slave. I live and die by chance. The only rule I recognize is the fourth rule, there is always an exception, a deviation that turns everything on its head. Expectations suffocate. Whatever you do don’t try and make sense of things, just take it as it comes. Confrontation without circumvention. The only thing thats certain is change. You can’t predict when or how things are going to change but they will or maybe they won’t you can just never tell.” – Kokiri of the Kalunrest

“Forget everything you think you know for a minute. Follow the chaos. Be the beast in the belly.“ – Aesoanahr of the Kalunrest

The Kalunrest feel that complacency dulls the senses and extinguishes one’s passion for life. Why would one knowingly strive for mediocrity? For the status quo? For normalcy? Convenience is a foreign concept to the Kalunrest. In embracing the aberrations they are able to connect with the universe.

As a people the Kalunrest are mostly friendly, even if outsiders find their behavior incomprehensible and frightening. Instability increases with age. Caution is advised. Crimes according to their own laws are rare. The ultimate goal is to evolve their species as a whole. It’s not about some petty competition between individuals or theologies. It’s about the greater good. Pure anarchy is nonsense as there is no way to really evolve without a larger context. The laws of the Kalunrest are difficult to relate, but are largely based on the personal growth.

The name “Kalunrest” translates into beautiful unrest. The symbol is that of a broken circle. The broken circle represents the breaking of cycles and is never depicted the same way.

I have one more faction over here as well as the prompt that this post relates to



Writing Prompt #191 “A World Apart Part 1”

I decided to elaborate on my planet some more. Namely put in a few places of interest in each town. I am sort of thinking of it like a video game.

Empty Cell

1. Faction Headquarters– Offers classes on magic, martial arts, history, philosophy, music etc. Daily lectures. Rooms for rent. A fully outfitted gym.

2. The Queer and the Plastered– A popular local tavern.

3. The House of Empty Doors– Caters to pleasures of the mind, body, and spirit.

4. The Orpheum of Unapparent Woe– Offers live theater.

5. The Hall of Curiosities– An interactive art museum. You can walk right into the paintings.

6. The Demented Cipher– A magic shop that caters heavily to the dark arts.

7. The Willful Marionette– Sells lifelike dolls everything from puppets to androids.

8. Chimera– A neighboring Void settlement that specializes in dream magic. They have a hotel called Dream Cage (empaths shape your dreams to your specifications!). They also have a bar with live music called Cosmogonic Waltz.

9. Constellation Obscura– A marketplace

10. The Amaranthine Pursuit– A host club

11. The Temple of Ocanthus– No one knows who built it. Most believe its haunted.

12. The Weeping Mandolin– A restaurant with live entertainment.

13. Circus Surreal– A circus where the performers employ Chaos magic.


1. Faction Headquarters– Classes with a focus on technology, Chaos magic, and Zui Quan. Lectures tend toward psychotic ramblings.

2. The Sinkhole– The most popular bar.

3. The Bloody Fist– A cage-fighting arena and training ground. No magic allowed.

4. Dirigibles– Rent or purchase a dirigible.

5. The Possibility Machine– Allows you to test out “what if” scenarios.

6. The Cerulean Roost– An inn.

7. The Unending Bazaar– The largest market in Fallow Farce. Specializes in gadgetry of all kinds.

8. The Vacuum– Rent your own sensory deprivation pod for deep relaxation!

9. The Laughing Coffin– A haunted house with real monsters/ghosts!

10. The Puzzle Box– A store that sells puzzle boxes. Once unlocked the box opens a 2-way portal to a random dimension.

11. The Smoldering Lotus– A brothel.

12. Temple of the Demented Eremite

Mourning Cell

1. Faction Headquarters– Offers a selection of classes (art, music, martial arts, sex, past life regression, meditation, communication etc.). They also offer frequent lectures on life after death and reincarnation.

2. The Temple of Broken Silences– The place where the dead are prepared and funerals are held.

3. Valkyrie– A popular tavern.

4. The Eidolon- An art museum of haunted and possessed art.

5. Mercurial– An art museum where the art itself is in a continuous state of flux.

6. Twisted Mistress– A S&M Club.

7. House of Tricks– A theater that features dreams.

8. The Black Iris– A tattoo parlor where you can get magical tattoos.

9. The Tertiary Pen– Is an art supply and stationary store.

10. The Bloody Carousel– An amusement park with a Gothic vibe.

11. Echo Wire– A concern hall.

12. Bazaar of Indiscriminate Paraphernalia– A marketplace with a variety of goods.

13. The Valley of Shadows– A public garden that offers a wide selection of edible fruits.

14. The Clockwork Automaton– A museum of extremely realistic automatons.

15. The Disgruntled Pheasant– A bar that serves earth-like food.

13th Dimension

1. Faction Headquarters– Offers classes on potion making, astral projection, mysticism, Chaos magic.

2. Three Sheets to the Wind– A popular pub

3. Athenaeum– A huge Escherisk library

4. Animus– A potion shop that sells aphrodisiacs from all over the multiverse.

5. The Antechamber– An inn where you can rent your own pocket portal.

6. Halcyon– A garden designed to look like the planet does during halcyon.

7. Bete Noire– A huge maze. The monster represents what you most fear and desire. Once you enter the maze the monster will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life.

8. The Opalescent Heart– A brothel.

9. The Bazaar of Material Entanglement– A marketplace.

10. The Unbinding Covenant– A school for all ages.


1. Faction Headquarters– Members have their own personalized sleeping pods that record their dreams. Members can set their dreams to public or private. Public dreams can be viewed by renting a pod (membership not required).

2. The Chirping Violet– A popular local tavern.

3. The Oubliette– A dungeon-style night club.

4. The Retro Sphere– Takes earth rpg games such as Baldur’s Gate, Planescape Torment, Diablo etc. and turns them into reality. As an adventurer you set the difficulty level (noob, novice, intermediate, expert). At the expert level serious injury and death can occur. Anything collected inside the game can be removed from the game on exiting. The higher the level of difficulty, the better the prizes. Note: Beverages and food eaten within the game provide real sustenance.

5. The Glade of Infinite Nothings A large underground forest (synthesized by Chaos magic). The forest has two settings fantasy and nightmare. The fantasy setting is a great place to relax, hang out, and/or meditate. The nightmare setting serves as a training ground.

6. A Stitch in Time– A single-occupancy bar. The bartenders specialty is memory retrieval/disposal. The bartender serves only two beverages “Anamnesis” which allows the client to perfectly recall a desired memory (the client doesn’t even have to know which memory they want, the memory they most need is what will be recalled). The 2nd drink “Amnesia” allows the client to forget a memory.

7. The Flophouse– A communal sleeping center. Free of charge.

8. Chrysalis– A body modification shop. Add or subtract appendages! Technological Implants! Lobotomies! Become a completely new species!

9. The Wistful Coquette– A host club.

10. The Antiquary– A large shopping center that sells everything from clothing to ancient artifacts. From specimens in jars to art supplies. From sex toys to produce.

Scabrous is located under lake Lachryma. There is no associated faction. A special breathing apparatus that plugs directly into the nostrils is provided for those who cannot breathe underwater.

1. The Roving Tentacle– Explore the depths of lake Lachryma!

2. The Brawling Octopus– The local tavern

3. Warehouse of the Unspeakable– A large research facility.

4. The Skein– Is an elaborate maze that continuously rewrites itself. It is located around Cthulhu’s Fortress.

5. Anathema– Is a bar completely impenetrable by magic (both esoteric and technological). Those with strong psychic powers go here to relax and tune out.

6. The Forbidden Mirror– Mirrors have long been thought to be portals to other dimensions but there are just some places we are not meant to go. Step inside if you dare! Not everyone comes back and those who do never speak of it.

7. The Cock and the Corkscrew– Don’t let the quirky name fool you this a restaurant and one of the best to be found in Fallow Farce.

8. Caravansary– A hotel and bar

9.The Dynamic Effigy– A museum of living sculpture.


1. Faction Headquarters- Offers a selection of courses (art, music, meditation, yoga, Tai Chi etc.). They have frequent lectures on a wide variety of topics. Rooms to rent.

2. Frimbia Terrenus– A popular local tavern

3. Desiderata– A marketplace for day to day essentials such as food, clothing, and basic tools.

4. The Inconceivable Muse– An art gallery that features objects taken from dreams.

5. Dreaming in Ether– An observatory

6. Bloodflower– A popular night club

7. Faire Caresse– A spa and massage parlor

8. Virtuoso de Pneuma– A small bar featuring live poetry and music.

9. Coppermouth– A fetish shop.

10. Asylum of the Obscure– Some speculate this is a research facility, others an asylum.

Bedlam’s Razor

1. The Ruins of Naesihr and The Torn Clock– Adjusting the time on the clock causes Fallow Farce to move either forwards or backwards in time.

2. Scrap Heap Sculptures- Strange mechanical devices occasionally appear in the desert, The Chaos of Bedlam\s Razor collect them and put them into sculptures.

3. Insurrection– The local tavern.

4. The Devil’s Advocate– A brothel.

5. The Den of Incomprehensible Relics– A trading post set up by the Void to facilitate trade with their neighbors. So far it hasn’t been very successful.

Harlequin’s Mirror

1. Faction Headquarters– Abandoned. A shelter for travelers who need a free room in the desert.

2. Harlequin’s Mirror– Appears as an ornate mirror but it is actually a portal. The portal leads to a completely mad world inhabited by pantomimes. The mirror was designed by the residents of Harlequin’s Mirror to derange the senses.

3. The Reaper of Souls– An institution that offers anti-therapy which is to say a specially trained “therapist” exacerbates all your problems!

4. Derelict’s Cabal– A bar.

Delirium’s Door

1. Delirium’s Door– The local tavern.

2. Ocanthus’ Bramble– A dense briar patch labyrinth that is the suspected home of the God Ocanthus.

3. Velvet Mystique– A brothel.

Cerebral Chasm

1. Conduit of Dismemberment– Is a tavern with long twisting corridors, many of the corridors lead to dead ends or to strange rooms. A lot of the decor is made of bone and animal skins.

2. Fortress of Sorrow– A black fortress with no apparent entrance.

Maelstrom’s Cabal

1. Xazxuhr’s Tavern

2. Lusus Naturae– A portal that summons powerful demons for combat training.

3. Maelstrom’s Looking Glass– A portal that leads to a random body of water. Maelstrom’s Cabal is located in the most inhospitable area of the desert.

Writing Prompt #189 “Bonus”

Phylors Collage .jpg

Art: Livestock Steve Bartlett. Far Right Image Michael Cheval

Where do dreams go once performed?

I fold marbles into scraps of sunlight,

thunderstruck and intermittent they collide.

The doors of the mind

slide from side to side

according to their conceit.

I take an empty book

and weep islands into the spine.

There is a beast in me,

that is both profound and docile

it neither sleeps nor rouses

but waits patiently

for the universe to undress.

I have too many answers.

Direction-less and without construct

I would never knowingly ask.

I follow each parachute

as it plummets to the ocean

sick with air, sick with inertia.

She practices voodoo by the seashore.

I strip down to the allegro, to the interstices,

to the hollows greedy with vibration.

I am reality, the application, the seer

pregnant and heavily veiled.

Where do words go when

they’ve outlived their sentiment?

I slip surreptitiously from

one constellation to the next

nirvana split and voluptuous like a peach.