L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Editing Cavern Clipper✨
LightNews LightNews
banner
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Editing Cavern Clipper✨
@smoking-gnu.bsky.social
3.9K followers 6.6K following 5.1K posts
Writer. Dog and birdy lover. Inept gamer. Social barren wasteland. Suspected Grey-Ace.
Current projects: Cavern Clipper (editing), All you need is TLC (drafting)
🚫AI🚫

https://www.wattpad.com/1529561072-moving-day
Posts Replies Media Videos
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Mornin' #WIPSnips.
Activity is... not recommended this morning. I'm guessing caffeine withdrawal from yesterday's day off.
No such luck for Jennifer, though.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
I’m staring out of the view window at the endless high-density urban expanse, trying my best to will my body not to start sweating while I wear my now familiar business formal wear when the comm bracelet activates, nearly making me jump out of my skin. I activate it after taking a few seconds to calm down. “Yes? Who is it?” “Friend Jennifer! How is the day treating you?” comes a now entirely familiar voice. “Wul Pra? Oh, it’s going fine, a bit busy at the moment,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. The Kowellians have been nothing but amazing as our logistics backbone so far, even with the no-weapons restrictions on their ships. Wul Pra had once offered to forego said restriction, but I shot that down instantly. No need to risk it. “We’re seeing some activity, friend Jennifer. Is everything alright? Are you in need of assistance from us?” Wul Pra asks, and I cannot bring myself to lie to him, not after everything so far. “Uhm, yeah, we’re having a bit of a situation here in Sennetu-Tra, I’m heading to a meeting now to see where it goes.” “Oh? Will we be required to stay on standby for this? We can depart for Nuyanna now, if you like!” Wul Pra says, using the name of the planet instead of the continent-spanning city like everyone else usually does.
January 21, 2026 at 8:44 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
#WritingPrompt (2/3)
2) Journey to the Center of the Earth : for the Subterranean Fiction aspect of the world setting of Cavern Clipper.
Drawn picture of an underground space with huge mushrooms and three people, tiny in the distance.
January 20, 2026 at 3:32 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
No new pictures, eh?

I'll show you where I'm at mentally after that 4 hour nap.
The life-cycle stages of Thomas the tank engine. You don't want me to describe the horrors on this page, but it involves a bigass white larva climbing out as Thomas' face to start with.
January 20, 2026 at 2:40 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. For context, this scene closely follows one where the offending Wul Pra physically put his saucer ship inbetween Driona's ship and an enemy vessel.
Their contract states that Kowellians (like Wul Pra) be kept out of all conflict.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
I let go of his shoulders and stand upright, dusting off my knee as I do so. “You’re grounded. Or better yet, you’re grounded back at your home planet. I don’t want to see you here again. No more cargo or passenger routes, period!” Colour draining from a grey face should not be possible, but Wul Pra manages it somehow as his face almost turns white. “What? Why? I helped you!” he demands, sounding outraged. “You put yourself in danger, you disobeyed my orders, you violated our contract and you almost turned me into a lying murderer!” I say harshly. “Wha… what?” he stammers back at me, and just then the other Kowellians move into conversation range. I instantly recognise two of them. “Kal Ona! Ura Vey! I’m glad to see you!” I say as a pit opens up in my stomach. “Wul Pra is safe and sound. I’ll have Rondu fix what damage is on his ship as soon as possible. I apologise profusely for what just happened, and I assure you we can discuss this regrettable situation immediately, if you so wish.” The two alien parents look at me strangely, then turn to look at Wul Pra’s saucer, taking special note of all the scorch marks and one particularly alarming half-melted dent. They turn back towards me, and I brace myself for the inevitable. For what I assume is inevitable. “Friend Jennifer, we thank you for your concern on this matter. We will deal with our son in our own way. We apologise for the distress this situation has caused. Be assured, the scheduled raw materials shipments will be on time tomorrow.”
January 19, 2026 at 8:38 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Share a screenshot that will stress gamers out
Malenia blade of Miquella, about to engage in the utterly bullshit Waterfowl Dance.
January 18, 2026 at 6:59 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Not much remains of this month, and I think that maybe i'll be switching back to Cavern Clipper (and away from TLC) when the current editing run is over. Thoughts?

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“I see. In any case, may I request that you at least make contact with this Joey? Pitch the idea at least? I will honour whatever outcome such a meeting has,” Rondu says to me. One point sticks with me, though. “How exactly would I do that? I’m still in orbit here, and a ship coming down on my town would get noticed. Also if you dropped me off away from prying eyes it’d take hours for me to get back to town.” “Indeed, I thought of that beforehand. Driona, I took the liberty of installing a stealth system in your ship as well.” “You did what?” Driona erupts. “Your ship will now be able to remain unseen and unheard, even during the day. I trust the two of you can organise the details on this encounter yourselves while I continue to analyse the scan data. Good luck!” And with that, Rondu terminates his hologram while the console continues to tick on. Driona stands speechless, mouth opening and closing but producing nothing. “Driona?” I ask hesitantly, not sure how she’ll react. “Fine!” she says suddenly. “What?” “I said fine! We’ll do this thing, you’ll make your pitch. Do you think it’ll have any chance go anywhere at all?”
January 18, 2026 at 8:40 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
#JanuaryWorldbuilders D18
The various Fleets have a habit of equipping their... Cavers (new term i'm testing out) with armour, but it's effectiveness is suspect.
The best protection against such weapons are shields that look similar to this:
#Writingcommunity
#Writesky
A star wars battledroid holding an energy shield and pointing its blaster through it.
January 18, 2026 at 7:17 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSNips! All that glitters isn't gold, but it sure is this time! Is the only mention of gold in the WIP too.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
“It will help with my enquiries. I will let you know in due time when I find any useful information. For now, though, I believe Jennifer has something else to talk about,” Rondu says and walks backward a few tentacly steps. “What?” she says and turns to face me. I feel the urge to turn and run for the hills for a brief second, but then I shake that feeling away and hold up the box in front of me. “Look, Driona, after what happened here we’re probably going to have to cancel the whole vacation thing, right?” I say. “Yes? Obviously?” she says, looking confused again. “Well, there was something I wanted to do while we were on vacation, but since that’s not going to happen… well I don’t want to wait any longer!” “Wait? Wait for what? It was just a vacation?” Driona says, still looking confused. I open the box and take out the item inside, dropping the now empty container to the concrete. The unconnected ring in my hand sparkles beautifully in my hand. “This is a purple gold bracelet, one turn of a spiral that doesn’t connect. The ends each have a diamond and a purple tanzanite set in them. They’re me and you, together. I wanted to give you this on a beach under a bright sun with the sound of waves around us. And I wanted to ask you something.” Driona’s eyes are locked on the bracelet and her mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Driona…. Will you marry me?” I say as I sink to one knee. “You… I … this… WHAT?” “It’s a simple question,” Rondu comments from where he’s standing.
January 17, 2026 at 8:40 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! How's the old noggin' doing today.
Not so good for Jennifer here, I gotta admit.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The pod lid fits so closely I can’t even lift my hands up to my face. I weakly beat on the glass-like material that makes up most of the pod lid. The grey alien looks at me with those huge black eyes as the pod comes alive around me. I start smelling something vile and my mind begins to slow. I still catch a glimpse of a dozen other figures, figures that could only be other aliens from the very numerous and very variable array of shapes on display, from a centaur like being to a vine plant form and what looks like a giant ant. They rush into the room and tackle the grey alien to the floor, proceeding to bind its short arms behind its back, and only then do I realise that they’re all wearing variations of the same clothes. Black and green. The term ‘space cops’ drifts over my mind, slowing down as it does with the rest of my brain. I beat weakly at the glass and try to yell for help, but my words slow down. “Help me! He…lp…m…e…” I see one of the officers, the centaur being, walk towards my pod, but he’s going so slowly. His three eyes stare at me with a deeply furrowed brow. All the colour drains from my vision, then all the light and then eventually everything.
January 16, 2026 at 8:38 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! I've managed to find yet another pertinent snip from TLC for you all today!
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
I force the smile off of my face. “Right, anything other questions?” I ask politely. Abendroth raises his hand as if he’s in a school room. “How… how are you financed?” he asks in a stuttery tone of voice. “Oh, for starters Rondu footed most of the bills. That couldn’t continue, of course, but our first job took care of that deficit. It also brought in funding and a few subsidies from the Guardian Union as well. We’re not exactly rolling in cash, but we get buy, and Rondu has even restarted his World Computer thing too.” “Funding?” Smith asks. “Our first client, Vander Ontooloo, was so happy that we managed to extract his entire family from a hostage situation without any of them being harmed that he decided to invest almost everything he had into TLC. Hell, half his family works for us now as HR managers and similar paperwork pushing people. We even have a daycare, except it’s full of down feathers,” I say with half a smirk. “Down feathers?” “Yes, they’re an avian species. Mostly birds, with feathers and beaks and everything.” Their stares are becoming comical, and I’m struggling not to laugh.
January 15, 2026 at 8:50 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Is it something like the opposite of this?
Webcominc of a dunce gifting a writer friend a "Writer's Block", a big white block with 'writers block' written on the side. Writer friend is unsure of how to take this. Credit to Tragic Glee
January 15, 2026 at 8:14 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Who else feels kinda spent after the current that was yesterday's Bluepit?
Well anyway, this comes from TLC, the still current snip reservoir.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
“Secondly, I’ve set about repairing your ship, but only in the interest of fact-finding. I’m also installing a unique scanning suite on board. Once the matter with the Trinaru authorities have been smoothed over, head on over to the approximate position of Earth and deploy the scanner.” “Approximate location?” I ask. “Don’t they know where our Sol system is?” “Surprisingly not. According to the investigation, the Kowellian guidance computers indicated last position coordinates do not match a known system on any galactic chart that I possess.” Rondu sounds irritated as he says this. “That is very strange,” Driona comments and furrows her brow. “Even the old Empire records?” “The current records draw from those, and they’re the ones that indicate nothing. I’m thinking there might have been an error there, hard as that is to comprehend. In any case, you’ll discover the truth when you get there,” Rondu says with finality.
January 14, 2026 at 8:48 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips!
Just sitting there and waiting is always stressful, don't you agree? At least Jennifer has some refreshment while she waits for the events of TLC's Part Two to unfold.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
The ice water feels like heaven as it pours down my throat, the two ice cubes in it bumping against my front teeth. I take another sip and sit the glass down on the table, then glance around. “How long still?’ I ask Driona. “A few minutes more, I believe. He’s made it a character trait to be prompt in his meetings, barring natural disasters,” she answers while also glancing around at the people. I put my finger to my right ear, on the bud inside. “Anything yet?” I ask. “No, and get your finger out of your ear!” Cynthia says harshly, and I yank my arm down on reflex. She may be a tad abrasive at times, but I’ve learned not to question her on these details. “What did you say he looks like, Driona?” Joey asks suddenly. “Well, he’s a Weronian. They’re about a head shorter than Jennifer, a mixture of fur and feathers, mostly brownish plumage with two small feather crests on the head above the eyes and feathered arms, although they’re flightless.”
January 13, 2026 at 8:50 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #Bluepit!

For your consideration, I present to you an #Agentsguide to

CAVERN CLIPPER
(TREASURE PLANET x JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH x THE LAST EXILE)

#Bluepit 📖 #A #SF #F #W
Background, Flying sail ships amids obscuring clouds. presenting an Agents Guide to: Cavern Clipper. Status: first draft being edited Image Credit: “The Stormriders: Steampunk Pirates” by neko1206 on Deviantart. Background, cavern lit up by bright orange-yellow light. The Pitch: A RECENTLY DECEASED HUMAN (SAM) AND A FORMERLY CAPTIVE CERUNAN (NYXEL) NEED TO DELIVER A MESSAGE CRITICAL TO HUMANITY’S SURVIVAL, ARE THROWN TOGETHER ON A PIRATE HUNTER SHIP AND ARE BEING PURSUED BY A RELENTLESS PIRATE FLEET - BUT THE LIVING MAZE OF CAVERNS THEY MUST TRAVERSE TO GET THERE MAY BE MORE DANGEROUS THAN THE PIRATES. Background, massive square cavern in background with small forest and deer in foreground. Comps: TREASURE PLANET X A JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH X THE LAST EXILE Tropes and themes: • TRANSMIGRATION (ISEKAI) • AIRSHIPS • PIRATES • CAT AND MOUSE BATTLES • A MESSAGE THAT MUST BE DELIVERED! Background, Cavern with a skull face being watched by a woman. Excerpt: “CAPTAIN!” SAM SHOUTED AND POINTED TO THE SIGHT. HE SAW HER REACT, BUT DIDN’T WAIT TO SEE WHAT HER RESPONSE WOULD BE. INSTEAD HE SPUN AROUND TO TRY AND FIND NYXEL. HE SPOTTED HER ON THE MAINMAST, SCANNING THE DECK AND LOOKING FOR TARGETS OF OPPORTUNITY. “NYXEL! THE CABLE!” SAM SHOUTED. HE SAW HER HEAD SNAP TOWARDS HIM AND HE POINTED TOWARDS WHERE THE LAST CABLE WAS EMBEDDED INTO THE DECK, THEN SWUNG HIS HAND AROUND TO THE SLOOP. SHE FOLLOWED HIS HAND, THEN NODDED AT HIM AND LAUNCHED BACK INTO THE AIR, GRACEFULLY CURVING TOWARDS THE SLOOP ONE FINAL TIME.
January 13, 2026 at 6:58 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Then you might like the next day aftermath.
Sam jerked awake and sat bolt upright on the bed, eyes darting around to spot when the next attack was coming from, ready to let out a defiant cry before it fell. There was no one else in the room except the doctor, standing at a bench working on something out of his view. She turned around. “Hey you, you’re finally awake!” she said, sounding relieved. “You were trying to cross the border into Skyrim?” Sam asked, almost on instinct as his absolutely pounding head wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet. Yvonne froze, confusion clearly plastered on her face. “Excuse me?” He opened and closed his mouth several times without uttering a word, cursing it silently as he tried to think of something to explain what he’d just uttered. “Never mind, it’s nothing important. Where am I, and why does my head feel like this? And my arm, why does it feel like I was stabbed?” “Well that’s because you were stabbed. Remember?” He stared at her blankly for a second, and then the memories flooded back to him. The hall, the attack, him picking up that weapon and just… What the actual fuck was I doing?
January 12, 2026 at 8:01 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Monday #WritingQ! #SnippetShare day!

Part of a larger kerfuffle. Sam's never fought with any hand-to-hand weapons before, and makes up for lack of skill with terrified desperate flailing and a bit of luck.
#WritingCommunity #WritingPrompt
The man with the spear, an older grizzled man with a rough, unkempt black and white beard, a mad wide smile and staring green eyes, advanced at Sam and leading with the glowing spearhead this time. He was coming in for the kill. Sam couldn’t stop it. The man’s face filled his vision. Maybe being a Glumwyrm harvester wouldn’t have been such a bad choice after all. A bolt of purple light raced over Sam from behind and hit the man in the face, carving a neat burned tunnel through his head. He toppled down to the floor, instantly letting go of the spear as he did so, and Sam sprung up in desperation to catch it. A few more purple bolts flew past him to kill a few more enemies, then ceased. Sam clutched the spear, the lethal part of it behind him, and again flailed wildly about him, knocking weapons aside and aiming occasional hits at faces or legs. Several enemies were crawling back down the hallway, either hit by fire or nursing a broken jaw, but five remained. The man with the shattered nose stood up, pulled a knife from a back holster and advanced on Sam, who again flailed about with his spear. The man deftly dodged the ineffective strikes and lunged behind it with the blade pointed at Sam’s face. Sam managed to bring the spear up to catch the knife on its wide guard, stopping it only a few centimeters from his face.
January 12, 2026 at 7:47 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! This is actually a continuation of yesterday's snip, too! quite the fortunate prompt choice for TLC!
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
I mean, I have nowhere to run here, so what’d be the point? The shape remains dark, contrasted from the red light behind it, until it moves into the light of the corridor we’re in. It… it’s difficult to describe. Mostly it’s a large mechanical sphere, about three meters in diameter, hanging from the ceiling on dozens of cables, or mechanical tentacles or something else, I don’t know. It has three eyes in a triangular formation, and they glow blue-green. I was really expecting them to glow red for some reason. Most of the sphere was covered in curving plate with telltale signs that suggested removable panels. I can only guess what would come out of those. “Driona! Greetings!” Rondu says, and the voice is very different to what I imagined it to be. It was deep and gravelly without any hint of mechanicalness to it. “I must say I was surprised to see you approach and request landing, and I was even more surprised to see the state of your ship. You took a great risk, attempting to fly in that thing.” I look sideways at Driona. “Excuse me?” “It’s good to see you too, Rondu!” she says, pointedly ignoring my question. “I wasn’t expecting to make the trip today at all, really. It was a spur of the moment situation.”
January 12, 2026 at 9:00 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! First meetings are always tricky, especially in TLC where the person you might be first meeting resembles something out of a sci-fi horror movie.
Never judge a book by its cover, though.
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
“If we do manage to make something, Jennifer, I won’t make you regret a thing, I promise! Okay, let me take the lead here for a minute, we’re coming up on Rondu now.” She’s right, because another set of gigantic doors loom ahead of us. They open with another loud clang as we approach, and we’re both flooded by a cacophony of what I can only describe as a thousand mechanic shops worth of noise. Reddish light spills out, and we see vast counters and workbenches strewn with tools and components everywhere in this large room. One wall housed the opening of what looks like an actual forge filled with liquid bubbling metal. Just looking at it makes me cringe from the heat. Then something moves, something large and hanging from the ceiling, with several snake-like arms darting here and there, picking up tools and components and setting them down again. “Hey Rondu, mind if we come in?” Driona suddenly calls out next to me, and I see the hanging shape turn towards us, then moves in our direction. Instincts I didn’t know I had start screaming at me that I need to run and hide, find a hole to climb into to get away from… whatever this is. I swallow and attempt to suppress it. I mean, I have nowhere to run here, so what’d be the point?
January 11, 2026 at 8:41 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Another snip from TLC, with part of it being from a previous snip, but adding in some more context since then that I felt was needed.
Isn't that right, Jennifer?
#WriteSky #WritingPrompts #WritingCommunity
In the blink of an eye, her two balled fists surge forward, squarely punching the wall. A crunch can be heard, and I’m unsure if it’s the wall or her hands making the noise, but where she punched, two brand new dents have sprouted. She winds back her arms and repeats the movement, deepening the dents. “Fuck that’s loud,” Roberts says under his breath, and I can’t help but agree. The noise echoes back through the sewer the way we came, and the fourth punch is greeted by the sounds of someone hearing the noise and sounding an alarm. The fifth punch opens a hole in the wall. A six widens it, then some more with the seventh. The eighth and ninth punches widens it enough to let Driona through, with a pile of stones and masonry on the ground, but she gives it one final hit to widen it just a bit more. I watch as all of this happens and… well, to tell the truth, I really like what I see. I have to fight to keep myself from staring. The butterflies are having a field day in my stomach, and my knees are being very stereotypical. Am I drooling? I wouldn’t be surprised, tot ell the truth. Dammit, Jennifer, keep it together! Professionalism! This is not the time for that! I scold myself. It’s not very effective.
January 10, 2026 at 8:56 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
Gonna take one from Cavern clipper again, since it's now my main WIP and it'll feature in Bluepit.
#WritingPrompt
The question made Sam reflexively look past Milly towards the line of gigantic natural columns running down the middle length of this cavern like it had its own spine, each one several kilometers high. If Sam had previously thought that the cavern housing Eriestria had been huge, this one was on another scale entirely. Each pillar had two Veins spiralling down its length on either side like a double helix, making the atmosphere in the cavern hotter than any other they’d been in so far. The Veins even reached down into the small sea below that filled most of the lower cavern. The glow of the submerged veins on those pillars breaking through the boiling surface could be seen even this far up. The air was hot and humid, with actual storm-clouds forming constantly all over the cavern to rain out and throw lightning towards the boiling sea. Right now, though, the veins were waning and it would soon be nightfall, or at least this world’s version of night. Sam missed the stars.
January 9, 2026 at 3:15 PM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. Sitting at a table, E-A-T-I-N-G. Such riveting action from TLC, like you've probably come to expect.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
What’s the worst that could happen? I take a bite and start chewing. It’s a little dry, but it’s a weird texture combination of ham and… calamari? It also mostly tastes like ham, but with earthy undertones that remind me of bourbon. “Not bad, actually,” I say after swallowing and take another bite, this time with some crackling with it. I enjoy the crunch. Driona is sitting across from me at this small table filled with an assortment of strange foods. She’s already piled a triangular plate with a choice selection, which looks to be mostly fruit and vegetables. “Are you not taking any of this?” I ask her after swallowing again. “No. I… do not partake in consuming animals.” “Oh, well alright then. What veggies are good for you?” I ask, putting the portion down on my own plate. “I did not mean to suggest that you shouldn’t partake yourself on my account!” Driona exclaims hurredly. “Nah, it’s fine, need to eat something of everything, really. Can’t just live off of meat, you know.”
January 9, 2026 at 8:41 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. Did not expect to find this word in TLC at all, to be honest.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“You lot, follow me! Step lively! On the double!” Cynthia yells and starts jogging towards Rondu’s ever increasing complex with her one green canvas bag over her shoulder, and the twenty or so new recruits start jogging behind her while looking around in total wonder at their surroundings. “It feels like boot camp all over again!” Joey says, slinging his own bag over his shoulder but waiting for me to get moving. “It’s like I’m watching a movie with a troop training scene,” I comment, helping to lift the last box onto one of Rondu’s drones. “To the recreation room, please,” I say to it. It nods, or at least I think it does, and sets off following the new recruits to the complex. “Right, that’s everything. Thanks, Wul Pra! We’ll call if we need anything else!” I call up and wave at the Kowellian, clearly visible inside the glass bubble that is the saucer control room up near the top. He waves back at me, and the saucer goes through its usual takeoff process. Dust kicks up from underneath it, forcing Joey and I to turn around and face away from it.
January 8, 2026 at 8:41 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! We have a lock on a specific snip for TLC again, with Jennifer really pissing off her appointed council *that she's never met before this court case*.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
The courtroom falls utterly silent. I can distinctly hear other rooms on either side in full legal swing, even through the walls. Every single eye is focused on me, and I can feel one pair of compound eyes staring daggers. I also feel the widening grin behind me. Driona is enjoying the show immensely. “Interesting…” the Arbiter comments, and his four-fingered hand darts across the surface of the tablet as if searching for something. “What do you think you are doing??” Voliannas hisses in my ear, suddenly close enough to my head for me to feel her body heat. A warm caterpillar. Ergh. “I am doing as I am rightfully entitled to,” I reply, turning my head to face her eye to eye. My voice is as firm as steel, and I lock into a staring contest with her. “Maybe if you had tried listening out there, we’d have other options than this.” Her face drastically contorts, and she seems to be speechless for the first time since we met. Before either of us can say anything more, the Arbiter speaks up from his podium. “Very interesting! The terminology you used, Miss Jennifer, is absolutely spot on! I feel like I have no choice but to acquiesce to your request, if only for a brief interlude. Court proceedings will remain in current stasis until I say otherwise! Miss Jennifer, do you require your representative council by your side in this?” he asks. I glance to my side, to the fuming Voliannas, and shake my head.
January 7, 2026 at 8:40 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips! Here we see the beginning of a beautiful partnership in the first part of TLC, featuring Jennifer talking with some very recognizable individuals. Tall, grey, large black eyes... you know the type.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“Yes, we are familiar with human’s… difficulty with our cultural naming conventions and therefore you may call us by our first segments for ease of remembering. Therefore I am Kal, this is my Ura, and these are our Wul and Ekl.” “Yeah, that would make things easier. Wait, you know humans?” “Indeed. We ourselves have… are guilty of what our children are guilty of, many of your years ago. It is a traditional youthful indiscretion once one of our family members attains the age of Bonding with their personal vessels. We have been trying to dissuade our young these past few cycles because of the ill-will we have garnered in that time. The Guardian Union especially, but we did not anticipate the… lengths they would go to with this past lawsuit. We are eternally grateful for your actions in this regard, and have been negotiation with Rondu and Driona as a result.” The voices are… strange. They are the same as the… I guess teenagers in front of me, but they have certain qualities to them, like a low down echoey vibration, like an elephant might have. It gives their voices an almost spooky gravitas. “That sounds good. I mostly did what I did for selfish reasons, though, cause I didn’t want to be stuck in an alien court for months or years even, especially not sitting besides that bossy bitch the whole time,” I say honestly. Kal and Ura share a look with each other.
January 6, 2026 at 10:04 AM
smoking-gnu.bsky.social
G'morning #WIPSnips. Here we see MS Jennifer in the middle of negotiations with a rather unconventional entity in an attempt to avoid a very sticky situation.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts
“No? Why would I? Oh, by the way, is there a name I can call you by?” Silence. “A name…” “Yes?” I press, gently but firmly. “We have many names, some of which we have forgotten. You… you can call us…” Silence. “Yes?” I ask again. “… Va-Le,” the voice finally answers.” “Cool. I don’t see a reason to protest you having bodies at some point, Va-Le. If it’s put on a contract, it should be carried out. So, do you have any other requests?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation forward. “… to be treated as more than just equipment. You have already done this by asking for a name, but more would be required,” Va-Le continues. “Like proper pay, employment contracts with benefits and protections and stuff like that?” “Yes, but… more.” “Sounds good to me, and something to be expanded on with further discussion. Now, anything else?” I ask pointedly.
January 5, 2026 at 8:23 AM