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Quote of the Week
Night in Neovia did not fall so much as roll over and settle more deeply into the dense, foggy gloom that veiled the formerly cursed town even by daytime. The muted chime of the bell tower insisted that the hour was late, the last lanterns were put out and the last workers and patrons were spilled onto the street, their parting words quickly swallowed by the mist.
Writing a Gothic Story: Just Add Monocles!
It was a dark and stormy night…
Two authors, one, a fashionista with a flair for the dark side, the other an enthusiastic Zafara with a flair for the silly side. Together they have a flair for the flair-y side. This daring duo will teach you all the ways to write the best gothic story. |
Neovian Gothic Special: Tour de Neovia
Greetings, readers! I am Alabaster Chesterdrawers, proud proprietor of the antique shop in the town of Neovia. We may have met before, if you’re the sort to procure ornate chandeliers, fancy mirrors and other home decor that fit the gothic aesthetic. |
| Neopian Nibbles: The Best of Neovia's Crumpetmonger
Ah, Neovia, an eerily quiet town home to a peculiar yet charming folk. Strolling through the cobblestone streets it is readily apparent that there is a rich history here. Of particular note is the renowned Crumpetmonger; the scents of fresh baked goods cling to the fog-filled air and provide a sense of warmth to an otherwise cold and dreary atmosphere. Walking inside the quaint shop you are greeted by a boisterous and friendly Meerca. |
Other Stories |
"Moquotamorphosis" by graevyard Night paired eternally over Neovia. The fog hid the trees from far away. It was a strange winter. Most Nenovians stayed inside their homes, waiting for the season to be over. In a single house at the edge of the cobblestone road was a small balcony, with a single being on it.
Fansa Green looked through his telescope, observing Kreludor and the stars. Barely any poked through the thick veil of the late season. The Sleeper could barely be seen, her faint glimmer being accompanied by other smaller, nameless stars. Fansa scribbled the astronomical data on his notepad in snippets only he really understood. |
"Old Friends" by herdygerdy The figure did not linger in the streets of Neovia, as the thick night fog curled around her dark robe. She was bundled up tight against the night air, a hood hiding much of her face. Her movements were deliberate, but rushed. She did not wish to be caught here, of all places. Too many people. Too many chances for everything to go wrong.
She crossed the bridge and made her way up the hill to the graveyard. Away from the water, the fog began to clear slightly, and the fear of the night drew back slightly.
Not so far from here, and not so long ago, she had plotted terrible things. The touch of the headstones brought back delightful memories. |
"Those Who Live In Neovia" by dinduidindo Kenny knew there were stories about that place.
These stories were vague, but they existed nonetheless.
Stories of people who had bought the house, only to have something happen to them. What that something was varied from story to story, but in all of them, the house was always put on sale again soon after.
At some point, people just stopped buying it, instead deciding to go to any other place.
Kenny didn’t really believe in those stories.
After all, it was just a house, right? And while ghosts and monsters existed, none of them would bother with a single house for over twenty years. |
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Great stories!
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Moquotamorphosis Night paired eternally over Neovia. The fog hid the trees from far away. It was a strange winter. Most Nenovians stayed inside their homes, waiting for the season to be over.
by graevyard |
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Harker's Story So that’s how we ended up here, Defender.” Harker leaned back in his chair and stretched his sore neck. It popped audibly, and the Wocky across the table made a face at the sound.
by tanikagillam |
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