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Circulation: 194,163,747 |
Issue: 743 | 5th day of Hiding, Y18 |
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Short Stories
 | There Is Something In My Closet And It Is Roaring! It was an early evening in Shenkuu. My friends, Jeulienna the Yellow Lenny and Manigolaia the Cloud Ruki and I, Zannidda, a Starry Xweetok, had just enjoyed a mouth-watering dinner together of Pirate Lupe pasta with Cheesy Onion sticks. The discussion on the table was about our favorite games from the Daily Dare Also by alienigenosidad
by applefaerie99 |  | The Song of the SkeithThe beast stalking the herds of Tyrannia is not all that it seems...
by fleurdust |
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"The Spirit of Black Keep" by cosmicfire918
The reason he’d gotten himself into this, ArPharazonTheGolden decided, was because he could never say “no” to anything.
The Faerie Draik perched on the edge of the bed in his cabin in a Shenkuuvian sky-ship, staring at the letter in his claws, not really seeing the words so much as coming to the realisation that he was hopelessly wishy-washy.
He’d go along with anyone just to avoid a quarrel—and even then he’d end up petering out somewhere along the way, retreating to the safety of merely existing. Really, he just wanted to sit and read all day. No adventures for him. The world was so much safer from the library of his family’s Neohome.
With a sigh, Pharazon glanced out the porthole. It was late afternoon and the sinking sun was turning the clouds golden. A beautiful time of day, by anyone’s standards, but it also meant soon he would have to venture to the dining room on the upper decks for dinner.
He scowled and tucked his knees to his chin. He hated travelling, and he hated travelling alone even more. But Celice had been too busy to come and pick him up from Altador—
Pharazon looked back at the letter in his hand and wished the Weewoo that delivered it had been waylaid. But no, here it was and here he was because, in true wishy-washy fashion, he had heeded its demands.
Laying back on the mattress, he read the paper for the umpteenth time.
Other Stories
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 3 Recent Weapons that Jumpstarted my Faith in TNT
It had been a while since the BD Chat had something to buzz about. The excitement of the New BD had long worn off. The Smuggler’s Cove had remained empty for years. Fyora hadn’t added anything to her tower in a while. After 15 years of barely venturing outside the BD Chat, it was time to for me to see what else this site had to offer. Then along came a volleyball.
by dfgh5067 |
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 The Spirit of Black Keep: Part One
The reason he’d gotten himself into this, ArPharazonTheGolden decided, was because he could never say “no” to anything. The Faerie Draik perched on the edge of the bed in his cabin in a Shenkuuvian sky-ship, staring at the letter in his claws, not really seeing the words so much as coming to the realisation that he was hopelessly wishy-washy.
by cosmicfire918 |
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 Clouds Over Cogham: Part Eleven
If the heartache of loss could be summarised in sound, it would be the din that fills Cogham as the villagers are dragged to the site of their inevitable demise. The fires burn bright, and the hatred burns brighter, and the world is aglow in a sickly gold, blanketed by a warmth that feels strangely like frostbite.
by theschizophrenicpunk |
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