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Rainbow Traveler

@theronshan3666.bsky.social

130 followers 140 following 670 posts

Tracer (Transgender/Asexual) no labels, no pronouns. I am HUMAN Streaming junkie, Gaymer nerd. Fanfic aficionado *Art by Dona Vajgand https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wownomore/works #LGBT #Tracer #Autistic #SciFi #Fantasy #Writing #Swtor #Palia

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HMH Murray @nillcord.bsky.social · 15d

Grammar rule? More than one, but I've gotten better at some of them. Who/whom still confuses me, and the proper use of semi colons.

Like if I took out that "and," I would replace it with a ";" --right?

JG Duke @duke-of-earth.bsky.social · Sep 1

My name is Duke, and I am writing a decalogy with entirely original mythology, histories, and languages. The series is called #AStoryOfDainu, and I am currently querying book 1: Long Live the Queen.

A list of prompts for fantasy indie authors for the month of September.

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Jan Karlsson @jangoeswriting.bsky.social · 15d

“Revels End” - Chapter 10 is posted!

In which Linus apologises, record crowds appear and an actor is struck by a stage … not literally …

Continuing the Discworld inspired story.

www.wattpad.com/story/394952...

Revels End - Jan Karlsson - Wattpad

Wilmuh Tremblerod knew from a young age that she would become the world's greatest playwright. Unfortunately, the world, and her talent (or lack of it) disagre...

www.wattpad.com

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L.M. du Plessis 🇳🇦 🇺🇦📚💙 ‪✨Drafting New Project✨ @smoking-gnu.bsky.social · 15d

G'morning #WIPSnips. Cavern Clipper has a lot of 'leaving' to it, to say the least, so I chose a snip about specifically not being able to leave a place for contrast.
#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

The blue figure hit the far wall, not quite hard enough to cause injury but hard enough to probably leave bruises on the thick skin. They let out a whuff of expelled air and turned to see the cell door slam shut and the lock click loudly.
Apart from the door the cell only had a small round window, out of reach above the figure. It was barred as well as closed with glass with no way to open.
The floor, walls and ceiling were metal, meaning the figure could not find any type of purchase on it for climbing, a fact that sent small tremors of panic through their body.
“You can stay here to cool off for a while, but don’t you worry! We’ll get around to making you more fun for the rest of the crew!” the bald, red-bearded human said from the other side of the cell door. He’d been the one to throw them in here. His laughs echoed down the corridor and into the cell as he walked away.
The figure looked around with its four eyes, trying desperately to find some way, any way they could escape. The message still needed to be delivered. The humans hadn’t found it, at the very least. All was not lost.
It was a small hope to hold onto in this cold, dead box.

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Jim the Vampire @jimthevampire.bsky.social · 15d

Welcome to Colony life, the day after things go wrong:

#WIPSnips
#WritingPrompts
#WritingCommunity
#sff
#SciFiWriters
#AmWriting
#WriteSky

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C A Malin @camalin.net · 15d

A slight stretch for today's #WIPSnips - "leaves" in place of "leave" - from #Ellamir. I've used it before, but I particularly like this passage so here it is

Brother Nicholls, having consumed too much of Lady Lamont's gin, makes a fatal error by stopping for the high fantasy equivalent of a kebab

An extract from Ellamir by C A Malin
Climbing down - "perfectly steady upon my feet, I assure you - anyone might take a slight tumble from as high and noble a carriage as the Barouche, and I suffered no hurt from it" - he had ordered the largest available of all the halfling's meat-and-bread offerings, and urged him to add to it every type of good thing he had upon the stall in abundance: fried onions, leaves of lettuce, wedges of tomato, a generous helping of Mingo's 'famous' garlic sauce, and to top it all, a long, lurid-coloured pepper. Thus furnished with much-needed sustenance, and a large paper flagon of pale ale to help it go down, he had returned to the Barouche extremely pleased.
It was henceforth that good fortune began to fail him. The halfling, it transpired, had been exceedingly remiss in the arrangement of the filling of his parcel, and Lady Lamont's coachmen made a very poor job of finding the smoothest stretches of road along which to drive, so that before long, a good portion of his meal had been shaken onto the carriage floor. Worse still, the coach was being allowed to sway to such an extent that the motion began to affect poor Brother Nicholls quite adversely, and to add to his sorrows, the large pepper which had seemed such an innocent and wholesome vegetable had, upon his consuming it expeditiously and entirely, proved to be hellsfire hot. The whole mug of ale, rapidly drained, did almost nothing to assauge the fire in his throat, but worked very ill upon what was already within, so that before long, his cheerful demeanour began to give way to melancholy and self-pity as the contentment of his full belly turned suddenly to misery, in consequence of a most persistent griping of the guts.

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KJ @redhawkkj.bsky.social · 15d

So many options! Today's choices -- just the paragraphs w/o extra context. Hopefully each 'leave' shows the intended: reassurance, surprise, trust, & authority.
Top 2 from 1 series. 3rd from another. 4th a standalone.

Thank you to all who like/repost! 💜🫂
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

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Paul Dixon @pauldixon.bsky.social · 15d

From Carpathans 2. Out of curiosity, if you happen to see this and have read the first one, let me know... just wondering if any of this makes any sense to anyone!

#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

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Cieran @cieran.co.uk · 15d

Fun one at the opening of 'Worm', where our "diver" explains how they disguise illicit Metanet activity; laundering income through tips on a tech-troubleshooting forum.
Character tone set on the second page here: Creative, tongue-in-cheek and morally ambiguous.
#WIPSnips #WriteSky #WritingCommunity

Screenshot shows excerpt of 'Worm', WIP by Cieran Ryan:
"To keep it sweet I code a holo-livestream answering tech requests. The questions are
generated by a keyword-tracer I leave in the .mpk of any client that under-pays me, or I don’t like the look of. It’s mostly non-malicious, the user’s data just feeds a zeitgeist suggesting quick-fix solutions to rookie queries: “why doesn’t my beautyFix holo work on radiation scarring?”, “How to stop concealed_arms.mpk being blocked by Federal Cybernetics?”. The advice I’ve
programmed replies from a list of basic troubleshooting methods then auto-resolves and closes the query, depositing a tip into my FC. Clean, traceable and funded by the ignorance of the metanet."

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K.A. Hela ✨ Prepping for edits...again✨ @jundlife.bsky.social · 15d

A sandwich maker muses on shadows...again.
From "HatWIP"

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts #WIPSnips

It is now five, and I can finally leave my prison. I still have a few hours of daylight, but the shadows are already growing longer. I hate how every day they get longer as the Earth’s axis tilts back to equilibrium. They say in Hawaii, there is a phenomenon called Lahaina noon where the tilt of the Earth angles just right so that twice a year, objects cast no shadows at all. I can think of nothing more beautiful in nature. Not that I could ever afford to see it on my sandwich salary.

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

-Leave-
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Dieselpunk #HistoricalFiction #SFF
from the Dieselpunk drama “Airship Dreams”

Long Island Estate - 30 May 1937, Evening
The gardens glowed with lanterns strung from the oaks, violins singing over the chatter of New York's elite. Ladies in silk gowns and gentlemen in crisp tuxedos spilled champagne onto marble floors, their laughter floating through the open French doors.
Amelia stood at the center of it all, violet eyes sharp as she commanded the room a glass in one hand, her cigarette holder in the other. She basked in the attention, certain her soirée would be the talk of the summer season.
No one noticed the quiet absence of two young Hemsmores.
At the far side of the drive, Taylor loaded a modest trunk into the motorcar. Braxton followed with his cane, Ellen at his side clutching her hat against the breeze. The butler shut the door firmly behind them, then tipped his cap.
"Safe travels, my Lord. Miss Ellen."
Braxton's hand lingered on the window frame. From where he sat, he could still hear the music drifting from the estate, faint as a ghost. He exhaled once, hard, and nodded. "Drive."
The motorcar rumbled to life. As the estate slipped away behind them, Ellen leaned against her brother's shoulder, her eyes bright with a mix of fear and excitement.
"By the time she notices," she whispered, "we'll already be halfway across the Atlantic."
Braxton's sapphire eyes gleamed in the dim light, fixed firmly on the road ahead. "Let her rage. We're free now."
The motorcar sped toward Manhattan, the glittering soirée vanishing behind them like the memory of another life.

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

whoot. 👍

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Finn McLellan @saranadosfiction.com · 15d

#WIPSnips | leave

Towards the end of Silver in the Ashes, and Archer coming to a realisation

( saranadosfiction.com/2024/10/12/s... )

Something about the idea nagged at him, though, like a splinter caught in a sleeve or a fragment of broken glass in a wound (say, the kind a lantern might leave, swung into the side of some pirate’s face by a panicking navy sailor caught unawares). Not the possibility of the addiction – a problem, but one that they could deal with once the worst of this was over, if they had to – but something about Sabbat’s reaction to the blood.

*‘hardly going to be good for him in the long run’. No, it wouldn’t be, would it? Because humans can’t digest blood, vampire or otherwise.*

And they certainly didn’t need it to heal, the same way that vampires did.

*…It shouldn’t be working. Should it?*

Again, it could be a coincidence. All he’d proven so far was that Sabbat had quieted at his touch – which wasn’t exactly surprising given how long they’d known each other – and thathe’d thought the blood tasted good, and that it might have been helping with the pain. Hardly enough evidence to hang a theory on.

*Or to hang us. Though vampires merit decapitation rather than the noose, for a final death.*

But, on the other side, Archer’s blood had worked to ease the seizures when nothing else had. And, when Sabbat had talked about the way the blood tasted, he’d compared it to Smoke. And he’d asked for more.

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C R Brown @carlokb.bsky.social · 15d

Snippet from Sugar On Wounds

Sugar on Wounds is part diary, part memoir, and a survival story. It's a window into the final years of therapy training, where old wounds resurface and self love becomes a radical act.

#WIPSnips
#WriteSky
#WritingCommunity
#WritingPrompts
#Leave

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

don’t mind the mess. It’s a work in progress. Full story can be found here: archiveofourown.org/works/709201...

Airship Dreams - Chapter 1 - Wownomore - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

archiveofourown.org

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

Uncle Alexander helps Brax to leave the toxic relationship between he and Lady Amelia
#WIPSnips #WritingCommunity #AmWriting #Dieselpunk #HistoricalFiction #SFF
from the Dieselpunk drama “Airship Dreams”

Hemsmore Estate - 23 May 1937, Midnight
The grandfather clock in the hall tolled twelve, its chime muffled by heavy drapes. Braxton sat in his uncle's study, cane resting against the arm of his chair. Across from him, Alexander Hemsmore leaned back, his round spectacles catching the glow of the desk lamp, a glass of brandy cradled in his large hand.
"Your aunt is asleep," Alexander murmured, voice low and gravelly.
"Which means we can finally speak like men."
Braxton shifted, unease tightening his jaw. "If she knew I was here...
"She doesn't," Alexander interrupted. He reached into the desk drawer, pulled out a slim envelope, and slid it across the polished wood. The faint clink of coins inside made Braxton's chest tighten.
"What's this?"
"Enough to see you across the ocean. Passage. Meals. A roof over your head till you find your footing." He met Braxton's bright blue eyes steadily. "I know what you've been plotting, boy. Don't look so shocked."
Braxton's breath caught. "Uncle, if she ever discovered -"
"She won't," Alexander cut in again, this time with a faint, weary smile.
"I've lived with Amelia long enough to know when to keep my mouth

shut. She means well, but she's strangling you, Brax. You're twenty-one, not a child. You deserve the chance to stand on your own legs."
Braxton lowered his gaze to the envelope, fingers brushing the rough paper. His throat felt tight, but he swallowed hard. "I don't know how to thank you."
"Don't." Alexander took a slow sip of his brandy. "Just live. Live well, and prove her wrong. That'll be thanks enough."
The two sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the faint hiss of the fire. Finally, Braxton tucked the envelope into his coat, his heart pounding with equal parts fear and exhilaration.
When he stood, cane tapping softly on the rug, Alexander gave him a quiet nod. "Take Ellen with you. She's the only anchor you've got. And whatever you do... don't look back."
Braxton nodded, his face glowing in the lamplight - and from the thrill bubbling inside him. "Uncle... how shall I get to the city? It must be discreet, and you know I cannot drive myself because of my condition."
Alexander's round spectacles caught the firelight as his mouth curved into a faint smile. He leaned back in his chair, brandy glass swirling lazily. "Don't you worry about that, dear boy. I have it under control."
Braxton's brow furrowed. "How?"
"Taylor," Alexander said simply. "You know as well as I do, the man is loyal to you - not to your aunt. A quiet word, a little incentive... and he'll see you to Manhattan without a fuss."
For the first time, Braxton allowed himself a real smile. "Then it's settled."

Lord Braxton Hemsmore from the Dieselpunk drama Airship Dreams

Lord Alexander Hemsmore from the Diesel punk drama “Airship Dreams “

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Prof Emily but Spoopier Now @professoremily.bsky.social · 15d

Share your favorite black & white movie:

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

anything with Cary Grant in it. he was one of my favorites from the old classics

Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

the lesser known son of Pollyester from the house of the synthetic gods.

Reposted by Rainbow Traveler

Isaac X Isaac @isaacxisaac.bsky.social · 15d

literally the book

Isaac X Isaac @isaacxisaac.bsky.social · 16d

#UnhingedPit? #UnhingedPit??? Joke's on you, #UnhingedPit. All my pitches are unhinged.

This IS what the story is about.

Follow for more foaming at the mouth re: THE DUEL IN 1660, my #YA(?) #LGBT #historical #swashbuckler #W about being jjust a little hater.

Crude drawover of "POV: You're Just a Little Hater" meme.

Image 1: Low angle of a very tall, ostentatiously dressed 1660s fop with a huge hat with ostrich feathers, long flowing hair, a lacy falling band, sweeping cloak, short mostly-open doublet, voluminous sleeves, masses of ribbons at the waist, and petticoat breeches. He's got a long face, long nose, droopy eyes with long eyelashes, a curly moustache and goatee, and smallpox scars on his face. He smirks in a smug fashion.
Text: POV you're just a little hater.

Image 2: High angle of a similarly dressed but very short 1660s fop. His hat features pheasant feathers in addition to ostrich. This figure is baby-faced, beardless, and angry.
Text: And?

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Isaac X Isaac @isaacxisaac.bsky.social · Feb 26

Gay crimes!
Trans wrongs!
Enemies to enemies!

Here's my #Own #LGBT #Hu #YA(?) again for #WSPit! A romp through a colorful, heightened #Hi storical playground.

Can one defeat the patriarchs with the very weapons of masculinity? Well, one angry trans boy can sure try stabbing them a lot. #WSPitW

"L'entrée du prince de Ligne à Londres 1660", painted by François Duchatel in 1660, depicting the arrival of a great procession of ambassadors walking in fine clothes and riding in coaches, watched by a huge crowd of Londoners.
Text over it reads:
THE DUEL IN 1660: a queer swashbuckling farce.

"The arrival of King Charles II of England in Rotterdam, may 24 1660" by Lieve Verschuier, showing many ships with the Flag of Holland/States Flag. The grand ship bearing Charles II has his royal arms carven on the stern.
Text over it reads:
England, 1660: the restoration of the monarchy. In Charles II's triumphant wake, a Royalist family quietly returns, but not with their single daughter—instead, with their single son.
15-year-old Alexander—vain, hot-tempered, and warm of heart—expects to strut in as an aristocratic peacock. But when his ambitions are frustrated, he's sucked instead into intrigues of questionable honour and forced to reckon with what it really means to be a man.

"Man Writing a Letter" by Gabriël Metsu, painted around 1665. A Dutch young man, beautiful and androgynous with long blond hair, wears black doublet, breeches, and stockings and a luxurious white shirt and falling band. His expression is tranquil and far-off as he writes a letter on a table draped with an imported carpet.
Text over it reads:
Pray enjoy this tempest in a teapot, crafted of the purest tropes and set in the Age of the Rakehells, featuring:
glamour and grime of 17th century Westminster.
goofy action punctuated by primal screams of rage.
problematic characters for miles.
petticoat breeches parkour.
queer mentorship.
romantic friendship (or maybe 'tis just gay, oops).
boys who cry. a lot.
and somehow, everything turning out all right in the end.

Detail of "View from the Mussel Pier in Amsterdam", painted by Ludolf Bakhuizen in 1673, showing a peaceful sky over a ship with two gulls.
Text over it reads:
Alexander stood at the edge of the deck, one hand clutching the railing, the other fastened tight on the brim of his hat as he leaned out over the waves. He was not much afraid of falling in, though he had never swum anything choppier than a pond. Rather, he was afraid that his Acadian fur hat, the most expensive for sale in the shop on the Kalverstraat, might fly off his small crown and flap with its feathers all the way to water—which, like the sky, could not quite decide between blue and grey.
There was no one to see him aside from the sailors and now Klein, climbing up from below. Still, he had meticulously dressed that morning, down to every last ribbon. He’d had a very specific vision of himself when the suit was being ordered: the azure he’d picked was not just brighter than everything around him on the fluyt but even the true sky itself, and he sparkled with silver, when the wind tugged his doublet and loose breeches, and gold, when the little light managed to catch on his sword’s hilt.
It was imperative, one must understand, that he look extremely stylish doing battle, should pirates suddenly appear to satisfy his fantasies. And indeed, at fifteen, he thought himself quite the dashing young man—not the boy he was.

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

not really. he’s highly intelligent and is insightful. most people would assume he was much older

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Rainbow Traveler @theronshan3666.bsky.social · 15d

Braxton just turned 21 and a big part of who he is. he knows he’s an adult now yet because of his trauma, he is mature beyond his years. It’s one of the reasons why Theroz accepts him so easily. (he’s almost 30)
Brax is cultured, intelligent and resourceful. His charm and beauty always wins people

Charlie Delta (has been a ghost this whole time! 👻) @charliedeltawrites.bsky.social · 15d

Tell me more about your #AwesomeCharacters

Let's dig into one of the basics today! How old is your character, and is that important to the story?

Why did you pick that particular age group for them?

#WriteSky #WritingCommunity #WritingPrompts

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Weeknight Writers @weeknightwriters.bsky.social · 15d

WE'VE GOT STICKERS!!

Find @diannalgunn.bsky.social in the vendor's room at Can*Con (October 17-19) or at the Parkdale Halloween Market in Toronto on October 26th to grab a pair!

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