Cavemonkynick

Help Hone My Writing Skills

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Cavemonkynick

I've recently been looking for new ways to help me in the endless war against boredom. I've noticed that a lot of people on this site draw and do commissions, and i like the idea. Problem is, im not very good at drawing so i thought I'd take a diffrent approach. What i am good is writing. When I was in high school, in english we would get these random writing topics and i would have a field day with them. So hears my idea, you give me some scenario and I'll give you a short story in return. You can be as vauge or specific as long as i have enough to work with. You can even give me a word max on minimum So post below and I'll respond with a story prolly within an hour or 2. Lets do it!

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OneUnder

Alright, sounds like fun :D

Here's a scenario; the government of [insert country here] has turned the place into a totalitarian military state. There are several operatives of a resistance movement attempting to overthrow the regime. They've made it far, and they will enact their final plans tonight.

Good luck! :)

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ballisticwaffles

You are writing you biography of your entire life.

Write me the entirety of Page 247

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Cavemonkynick

Here's a scenario; the government of [insert country here] has turned the place into a totalitarian military state. There are several operatives of a resistance movement attempting to overthrow the regime. They've made it far, and they will enact their final plans tonight.

Here it is.

“Tonight will be the last time we meet in secret my friends.” Sigmund said as he looked around the small musty room they were gathered in. He was the leader of a small resistance in the country of Saludia.

Once an ally of the Soviet Union, the Saludian economy was entirely based around its military, but after World War II the leaders saw it in their best interests to become independent. However without the demand that war created the economy slowly crumbled. In retaliation the Military government extended its control. All food and clothing was rationed, and no passage was allowed across the borders unless it was supplies.

“For six long months we have planned this assault.” Sig continued. There were four other people in the room with him. To Sig’s left was Dolin, the team’s close combat expert. He was lighting fast and if ever got within five feet of you, it was over. Next to him was Sylvain, the sole female of the team and their sniper. She could hit a blade of grass swaying in the wind at nearly 400 yards. Then there was Doug, the human tank as they called him. Doug was 450 pounds of pure muscle and handled explosives and stubborn barricades. And last there was Ranford, the strategist. He may not have been the best shot but his battle plans and quick thinking in the field kept the Team alive. As for Sig, he was a jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none, but he had an air about him that made you want to follow him. He wasn’t prideful or a bigot but he got things done.

“Tonight, one way or another, everything will end. Ranford has everything planned out to a tee and you all know your roles. Tonight we kill the dictator Solaris and his right hand Tyus and then we sit back and watch it all fall apart.”

“Well why are we still sitting around here?” Doug asked cracking his knuckles.

“Easy there tiny,” Dolin laughed, “Remember your blood pressure.” The room shared a laugh.

“Doug’s right though,” Ranford said, standing. “We need to move.”

“Right,” Sig said, also getting to his feet.

An hour later they were scaling the back wall of Solaris’ compound in the cover of night. As they landed on the other side they each drew their weapons, each silenced and optimized for accuracy. The plan was to move quickly and try to remain undetected until Solaris was dead. Sig held up two fingers and waved his team forward. Dolin took point and Sylvain covered the rear. According to Ranford’s Intel they had a five minute window left before the guard shift change was complete. During these five minutes the compound was practically deserted.

As they reached the back door Sig produced a key that they had acquired from a guard and unlocked it. The five slipped inside to a long empty hallway. There were four doors, so everyone but Ranford, who instead watched the front entrance, took a door. On Sig’s signal they each burst in. The room Sig entered was empty and appeared to be a study. He herd two muffled shots ring out. He moved quickly back to the hallway and saw that Doug had done the same.

“We got a problem,” Ranford said from the door. “Looks like the shift change is ahead of schedule, three guards are closing in.” Sylvain stepped back into the hallway.

“Solaris is dead.” She said.

“Good we gotta move,” Sig said, “Everyone out.” As they dashed for the door Dolin finally emerged.

“Come on!” Sig yelled from the back doorway. Dolin turned to him as a shot rang out. Sig watched as Dolin fell to the ground. The front door slammed open and Sig ducked around the corner. Two more muffled shots rang out. Sig looked and saw Sylvain perched atop the fence. He readied his pistol and popped his head around the corner. Two of the guards were dead and the third was hidden. He waited a beat and the guard stepped out of cover. Sig dropped him with a single shot. He dashed to Dolin, who was face down in a pool of his own blood, a single hole in the back of his head the source. Sid lifter Dolin and threw him over his shoulder.

“No one gets left behind” He said quietly. And, with Doug’s help, scaled the fence and went do dig a grave for the man who died saving his country.

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OneUnder

Excellent doesn't even begin to describe that tale, CM-Nick! :D. The small details, character interaction, and those last moments of suspense are what really made that excerpt incredible. Keep up the great work! ^_^

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chaos_Leader

O_o . . .

I gotta stop procrastinating my own writing, like, now.

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Cavemonkynick

Excellent doesn't even begin to describe that tale, CM-Nick! :D. The small details, character interaction, and those last moments of suspense are what really made that excerpt incredible. Keep up the great work! ^_^

Thanks man that means a lot! :D I'm glad you enjoyed it.

O_o . . .

I gotta stop procrastinating my own writing, like, now.

I know how that is, trust me.

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Salem

ok lets see...there has been viral outbreak and it is starting to effect the world some think its bio war fare.

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Cavemonkynick

You are writing you biography of your entire life.

Write me the entirety of Page 247

Alright, here is one standered page (as set by microsoft word) as if it were just pulled out of the book.

… was like the shortest summer vacation ever, but in a way I was glad to be going back to school. It was to be my senior year after all and even people who hate school, like me, secretly look forward to senior year.

My expectations were met almost immediately with the best teacher I’ve ever had, Ms. Marsha Madray. She taught senior anatomy but I have a feeling she could have taught Boredom 101 and found a way to make it interesting. She had a war story for everything, and while most of them were made up, they were all true about someone she just changed them to make them about her.

But the year came with plenty of hardships. Bailey and I had been dating four just over 2 years, and while we were both past the whole awkward phase of our relationship we were far from understanding everything about each other. She had this problem of thinking I could read her mind so a lot of times I wouldn’t notice when something was bothering her, and if I did notice she’d tell me nothing was wrong and when I took her word on it she’d get mad. Not that I was perfect either. I tended to take things too personal all the time, and not just with her.

So yea, the first half of senior year I was pretty strung out, but times like this have always been where Bailey proved to be the best girlfriend ever. She could tell when I had a tough day and she never once made things worse by playing the “if you love me card” even though it works every time. Most of our dates were spending all day Saturday at my house watching TV or playing games. She was my escape from reality, she still is. Whenever things were rough she’d curl up in my arms and the rest of the world didn’t matter anymore. It was just me and her and that was perfect.

One of the biggest stress factors was the drama club I was part of. We competed in One-Act-Play. We were doing a play called “The Devil and Daniel Webster”. At was about a poor man named Jabez Stone (me) who had sold his soul to the devil so that he could become successful and marry the girl of his dreams Mary (NOT Bailey, lol) but on his wedding day the devil comes to collect. Then Webster convinces the devil to hold a trial and Webster serves as Jabez’s lawyer and wins the trial and they all live happily ever after and all that jazz.

I know what you’re thinking; it’s not fair for me to complain about something I signed up for, but it wasn’t the play itself that was getting to me. I love acting, and I always will. It was our Webster. His name was Mark Holly and we only put up with him because we had to. His was the type that thought his crap didn’t stink, even though he always smelled like he had never even heard the word soap. He also thought he was the best actor in the world, which he was not. He had this extremely frustrating habit of ending all of his sentences with the inflection of a question and was somehow oblivious to it. It made everyone want to strangle him, but at the same time nobody wanted to stay that close to him long enough to finish the job.

We somehow managed to not kill him before the region competition, and we actually won advancing to state for the second year in a row. Now unfortunately we bombed state but we competed toe to toe with these huge art schools that actually had a budget and managed to hold our own so we were pretty happy. While I enjoyed the experience for the most part, I personally was just happy that I no longer had to associate myself with Mark anymore, a feeling I discovered was mutual among the cant and even out director.

After the play was over I finally started getting more time to myself and more time with Bailey, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I got to finally take her out on genuine dinner and a movie dates again, and once or twice we went bowling. I have a tendency to get worst the longer we play and she just get better and better…

There it is, lemmie know what you think

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ballisticwaffles

It was good, i liked the format and you answered the prompt very well.

Now

THree things. A rubber hammer, a tube of wasabi, and President Nixon. Why are these three in the same jail cell together?

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Furygun81

Continue:

'I looked up, and I could only tremble in fear as the custard was poured over my shoes...'

Too random or is it okay? It's meant to be challenging.

BTW you don't need to make it too long. Or too short. But just right (LOL Goldilocks reference)

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Cavemonkynick

It was good, i liked the format and you answered the prompt very well.

Now

THree things. A rubber hammer, a tube of wasabi, and President Nixon. Why are these three in the same jail cell together?

Glad you liked it. as for the new one, that should be intresting.

Continue:

'I looked up, and I could only tremble in fear as the custard was poured over my shoes...'

Too random or is it okay? It's meant to be challenging.

BTW you don't need to make it too long. Or too short. But just right (LOL Goldilocks reference)

Naw its good, i rather like random. I may need my friend jacob to bounce ideas off of tho. He's as random as they come.

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Cavemonkynick

ok lets see...there has been viral outbreak and it is starting to effect the world some think its bio war fare.

Kim rubbed her temples in a fruitless attempt to rid herself of her headache. What she needed was sleep but she couldn’t afford to waste any time. The virus had already swept the west coast and showed no signs of slowing.

Just 6 days ago, the virus claimed its first victim. The early symptoms were cold-like and overlooked because it was flu season after all, but what they thought was flu was something much worse. The virus basically tore your respiratory system to shreds by deteriorating the alveoli, small sacks that absorb oxygen into the blood. Eventually the body would simply suffocate.

Kim had made a small amount of progress but she wasn’t anywhere near to a cure. She and her partner Mitchell had been working for almost 79 hours straight to pick this disease apart and try to find a cure. The more she stared at her computer screen the more perfect the disease seemed, it had to be man-made. As a Biomedical Researcher she couldn’t help but be in awe of how perfect the disease was. Whoever built it was a genius, but so was she. While she preferred to avoid the limelight, she had been involved in almost every major medical breakthrough in the past 10 years and she wasn’t about to let this beat her.

“Kim?” Mitchell called, entering the room, “Coffee’s done.” He handed her a large steaming mug then sat down at his computer next to hers.

“Thanks Mitch.” She said.

“Make any more progress?”

“None… were running out of time.”

“Don’t remind me…” they were silent for a moment. Kim sipped her coffee. She jumped slightly as her phone began to vibrate in her coat pocket. She pulled it out, restricted. She answered.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Kim, this is Agent Moors. Is Dr. Mitchell with you?”

“Yes, he’s right here.” Mitch looked up.

“Good, put me on speaker.” Agent Moors said. She did so and set the phone down on the table. “There’s been a new development in the case. It seems your suspicions of this disease being biological warfare were correct. Today the CIA received an ultimatum from a yet unnamed terrorist cell.”

“What are their demands?” Mitch asked.

“Money of course and enough weapons to outfit an army,” Moors responded.

“How much time have they given us?”

“Doesn’t matter Mitch,” Kim said. “Another two days and the virus will have killed everyone west of Missouri, another 4 and we’ll all be gone… We’re out of options.”

“Dr. Kim, are you suggesting we give into their demands?”

“If I had another month I MIGHT could crack this, but there’s no way I can do it in a week. We need to cut our losses here.”

“And if they mobilize against us?”

“Then we may all die, if we refuse then we WILL all die.” Kim stood and stretched.

“Very well… I’ll get in touch with the commander in chief. It will ultimately be his decision.” And he hung up. Kim collected her phone from the desk and drained her coffee.

“Well I'm done with all this. I'm going home. Take care of yourself Mitch.”

“You too Kim, you too.”

Lemmie know what you think

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Salem

me gusta

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Cavemonkynick

me gusta

^_^

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Salem

alright the setting is medieval two countries are at war and the prince and princess of each side are in love (Romeo and Juliet scenario)

aaaannnndd.......not yet......... :spam: ...........GO!!!!

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Jon3Mac

A man who is constantly on fire has to get through life with his penguin wife on the ice planet of Otulp. How does a normal day in his life go?

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Cavemonkynick

Ok, first of all, sorry that I've let this topic fall to the wayside. You know how it is, stuff and all that jazz, anyways. Ive got a new little short piece I' want some feedback on but I don't feel it's long enough to start a new topic anywhere so I figured I'd put it here. Lemmie know what you guys think and I hope you enjoy!

Tomas ran desperately through the ruined streets of what used to be downtown London. He dove over a low wall and quickly pressed his back against it. He groaned at the hopelessness of his situation. He had lost his squad, he was down to his last thermal clip, and for some reason he couldn’t get his bloody shields to recharge. He felt naked despite the heavy armor he was wearing. But he couldn’t give up now.

“Give it your all… Anything less and you’re already dead,†he whispered to himself, barely audible amidst the gunfire and explosions. He drew his Black Widow sniper rifle from his back. An upgrade of the M-98 Widow Anti-Material rifle, the Black Widow wasn’t quite as powerful but it retained the originals ability to pierce up to half an inch of nearly any known material while maintaining lethal velocity and boasted a three round clip to boot.

“Cloak,†Tomas said aloud. Immediately the air shimmered around him and he watched his arms and weapon disappear. “At least that still works.†He thought aloud. He spun around, bringing the Widow up to his shoulder and bracing himself on the wall. He took in the scene in a split second.

The Reaper forces had been hot on his heels. Three Marauders and two Husks were closing in on his position. Tomas took a deep breath and brought the scope to his eye. As he did micro-processors in his hard-suit began pumping Adrenaline through his system honing his senses causing the world around him to slow. He lined up his first shot and squeezed the trigger. The rifle slammed into Tomas’ shoulder but he didn’t falter. He had trained for hours with the Black Widow and was accustomed to its recoil. Through the scope Tomas could see that he had been on target and lined up his second victim. Another deafening blast, another dead Marauder. Tomas lied up the last and fired. The last of the Marauders fell, dead, to the ground.

Now there were only the Husks to deal with. One was charging straight at him. Tomas had just enough time to replace the Black Widow on his back before the Husk was just on the other side of the wall, right where he wanted it. He grabbed the cyberneticly twisted abomination by the throat, yanked it over the wall, and slammed it on the ground. With his other hand he drew up his Omni-Blade and brought it down on the husk with full force. The Husk went limp, one down. In the chaos he had lost track of the other. He began to scan his surroundings when it jumped him from behind. Tomas resisted the urge to panic, instead falling backwards to the ground stunning the Husk. He then flipped over and plunged his blade into it.

Tomas took the momentary calm to gather his thoughts, but the calm didn’t last. A horrible shriek split the air. “Oh god please no…†Tomas frantically tried to find the source. His stomach dropped. “Banshee…†Tomas’ brain was screaming at him to run but his feet stayed rooted to the ground. There was no escape. The air around the Banshee glowed blue and in an instant it had materialized two feet away from him.

Purely on instinct Tomas finally turned away and attempted to run but as he did he felt the Banshee’s elongated fingers close around his head. Despite himself he couldn’t help but wonder how the spindly fingers were strong enough to hold him. He felt himself being lifted off the ground. The Banshee turned him until they were face to face. It’s cold, dead eyes sent waves of pure terror throughout his entire body. The Banshee drew its other arm back. Tomas knew what was coming. He closed his eyes.

His last conscious thought was regret that he had let the Reapers beat him. Then came the terrible pain of the Banshee’s arm, warped into a blade by its biotic power, piercing Tomas’ stomach, He felt the arm being pulled out, felt himself fall to the ground, and then there was nothing.

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ballisticwaffles

ASide form a few grammatical glitches its a good start. Although i recommend looking at the fight scenes again because they are a little too unfluid to sound like a fight. I would recommend attempting to see if it flows better by removing or adding a few words.

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Ratchet

Wow.. I'm not a very good writer..

How long does it usually take you to write everything? I'm just a sophomore, so my writing is average. From what I see on this site, it's mostly college students or who are 18-20+ years old. Whenever I try to write, I can never get into the details very much but I am good with dialogue, I think. What's making me struggle is that I haven't seen any character personalities that I could off from very much.

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Cavemonkynick

Thanks:) Yea, I'm 20, been out of high school just short of 2 years. As for how long it takes, it just depends on what I'm writing, and what I'm doing when I'm writing. If I really wanna get focused, I'll jack up some music in my headphones to sort of isolate myself and I'll get a lot done pretty fast. That's what I did for that last one and I got it done in about 30-40 minutes. On the other side of that I've had days where I would spend 5 or 6 hours trying to write and maybe get like a paragraph done. As far as inspiration, I've always been a big reader. It comes with having a super active imagination. My mind is so good creating images that the words come alive. A lot of my style comes from John Greens book, mainly Paper Towns.

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chaos_Leader

Wow.. I'm not a very good writer..

How long does it usually take you to write everything? I'm just a sophomore, so my writing is average. From what I see on this site, it's mostly college students or who are 18-20+ years old. Whenever I try to write, I can never get into the details very much but I am good with dialogue, I think. What's making me struggle is that I haven't seen any character personalities that I could off from very much.

It depends.

My sporadic writing habit's are pretty similar to cavemonkynick's, so I won't repeat them here. Reading is a good place for inspiration, I highly recommend it. In fact, don't just read; watch good movies/TV shows, play good video games, go see a play if you have a halfway decent theater company nearby. Above all, be sure you're taking mental notes of what you liked, and what you might've done differently.

Oh, and practice too. Keep right on writing things. You'll get there.

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Cavemonkynick

Totally agree with everything Chaos said. Also, if you have a chance and your ok with that sort of thing, be part of a play. Sliding yourself into someone else's shoes through acting is a great way to broaden your views of storytelling. When you've experienced certain actions it's easier to explain them,

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Cavemonkynick

So here's another short piece a cranked out in about an hour because it wouldn't leave me alone.

"So… This is it?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"I don't know… For now… Yes" Her voice came through the phone.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

"Well what am I supposed to say? It's not like I'm gonna change your mind now is it?"

"Please don't make this harder than it is."

"That's not fair."

"What?"

"You don't get to play that card. You're the one who's leaving me, and over the phone no less."

"I'm half way around the world!"

"Oh well that just fixes everything now doesn't it!?" A silence fell between us. I sighed and gathered my composure. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled ok? I still think this whole thing is stupid but frankly I'm sick of the fighting. Go have your fun or whatever it is you're hoping to accomplish. Just don't forget I was the one who stood beside you when you didn't have the option to just run away from your problems."

"You think I don't know that?" She snapped.

"Lately yes, it feels like now that I'm not convenient you don't come to me like you used to. And don't blame your job because: one you know whenever you call I'm here for you, and two you signed up for this. You knew full well you weren't going to be happy with the job you were stuck with but instead of waiting you joined up anyways."

"Why do you always bring that up?"

"Because it's a truth I have to live with every day while you're content to ignore it. I don't have that luxury. Your shipmates don't know me and they don't care to so you can just slip off into your own little world. Meanwhile every time I turn around someone is asking about you. Everywhere I go I find a memory of us. Four years' worth of memories haunting me."

"…I gotta go… My shift is starting.

"Of course it is."

"I'll try to call before we leave port tomorrow."

"Don't. There's nothing left to say. Just let me know you're safe when you make port."

"I will."

"Thanks… Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"… I love you too." And then she hung up.

I sat the phone down beside me and heaved a sigh. I was officially alone but for the life of me couldn't be bothered to care. Looking back I should have seen this coming, and in a way I suppose I did. Our arguments had been getting worse by the day. They had evolved from petty differences over stupid things to full scale battles of attrition complete with swearing, low blows, and empty threats. Well, empty until today.

And yet, here I sat, completely fine. Of course I wasn't happy she left me, but I wasn't not broken up about it either. I'm just… Numb.

I sighed again as the word danced across my mind.

"I need caffeine," I muttered to the empty room. I stood and emerged from my room and strode across the kitchen which opened into the den. Mom was in her recliner. The TV was muted. She had been listening to our arguments again. Normally I would have racked my brain to try and remember exactly what swear words she might have overheard but not today.

"Is everything ok?" Mom asked. My answer came from somewhere in the mini-fridge.

"Nope," I deadpanned and grabbed a coke.

"Are you ok?"

"Yep," I popped the tab and drained half of the can in one go.

"Are you sure?"

"I'll let you know for sure once it's sunk in, but I think I'll be fine." And with that I returned to my cave. I settled back into my own little groove, donning my headphones, selecting a playlist of my favorite songs from classical to dubstep, and jacked up the volume blocking out the world around me. I closed my eyes and let the beats and melodies paint pulsing images in my mind, nothing with definite form. Swirls of color and waves of sound enveloped my senses for nearly an hour before my eyes opened again. Out of habit I checked my phone and was surprised to find a message.

"Wanna MP?" It was one of my best friends and he wanted to play Mass Effect.

"Hell yes." I sent back. Once we were in our match we fell into our usual banter about nothing while going about our killing with a practiced surgical precision, our vastly different styles complementing each other while our egos clashed; bashing each other and occasionally joining forces to hate on the guy who kept dying. All in good fun of course.

"Boom! Headshot!" I yelled enjoying the sight of the enemy sniper's head ceasing to exist.

"So? You're a sniper." He responded.

"Yea, but it was in cover."

"And?"

"Screw you."

"Crap, Phantom."

"Where?"

"Over here."

"Coming."

"It just snap killed the vanguard."

"The one with like twelve numbers in his name?"

"Yea."

"Good riddance." We shared a laugh. The gameplay was instinct and the banter came naturally allowing my mind to wander a bit. I was still surprised at how little the whole thing was bothering me. I turned the last few minutes of our conversation over in my head for a bit then pushed it out entirely, my attention required to deal with the problem of running out of ammo with two Combat Engineers and a Centurion bearing down on my position, a problem that was solved by hacking a turret and using the distraction to break cover towards an ammo crate while my buddy charged in, shotgun blazing. Cleaning up he called it. Kill stealing I called it, as my hacked turret would have done fine without him.

We blew the next four or five hours like this, and never once did she cross my mind.

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Cavemonkynick

So it's been another few months but I've got something else I'd like to share that's not really worth its own topic so I figured I'd put it here.

This one is a pony fic and it's something that hit me completely out of nowhere as I was about to go to sleep that I HAD to get down. As it developed it transformed from a oneshot to sort of a interlude between two of my other pony stories "Her Sword, Shield, and Friend" (which will be featured on Reading Rainboom next Tuesday, Squee!) and the sequel which hasn't been named yet. While it is an interlude you don't have to read "Her Sword, Shield, and Friend" to understand this story. It can stand on its own.

Strangely enough, this was inspired by the credits song to the Discovery Channel's special "Mermaids: The Body Found" which was an excerpt from Flugufrelsarinn by the Kronos Quartet. I believe it was mixed with some of the calls from the acoustic anomaly known as the bloop.

Anyways, enough description. Be sure to let me know what you think.

"The Guide to the Stars"

Alone…

Such a simple word, alone… Yet it can carry the weight of the world, multiple worlds sometimes.

Alone…

It is easy to feel that way when you are drifting among literally nothing. Thousands, no, hundreds of thousands of miles away from my nearest kin as reality marches on.

Alone…

It has been this way for as long as I can remember although I am uncertain about how long that is… When time holds no meaning, how do you quantify eternity?

Alone…

I can see them, specks of existence just beyond my reach. I imagine they can see me too… I wonder if they feel the same, if they look out at their brethren and wonder why we were cast so far apart…

Alone… Almost…

She is calling again. Her mind reaches out to me from the darkness. I feel myself move to her pleasing. We are a medium upon her canvas. We are puppets, and she our master. We answer her willingly for she is a beacon to the scattered… The lonely. She knows of our pain. She knows solitude. Yet her suffering is far worse than ours.

My life alone is all I know, all I have ever known. For me it is routine. It is not circumstance, it is fact… But for her…

Anger, jealousy, betrayal, sorrow, contempt… Pain beyond what mere flesh can know. When she first called out to us she was ignorant to these things. She was full of joy and energy. She was our light. Her joy became passion and she was our pride.

Then she changed… It did not last long, but for a moment she was something else entirely. For the first time, we knew fear… Fear that our beacon of hope was forever corrupted. And as quickly as it came, it was gone.

When next she called us, she was broken. She no longer guided our dance among the nothing yet she still called to us. Our strings were pulled by another, but still we were her refuge, and she was still ours.

It continued like this for a while… Long enough to remember… She never left us. It was as if she was hiding herself among us, trapped not only away from her kind, but also trapped within herself. We felt her pain. The pain of a heart broken as a mind watches a body act without consent. The rage had consumed her and she had lost herself… She had lost everything…

Alone…

We offered what comfort we could. Her heart flowed among us as her mind and body brooded. Things could not remain as they were. She had been our hope, and now she was torn. As long as her body was imprisoned she could never be whole again. We gave her all our strength and we set her free…

Silence… And then… Joy greater than we ever remembered flooded our being. Our beacon had returned. Yet there was more. We knew each other better now. She remembered our comfort. She loved us, and we loved her. Soon our dance was returned to her and we knew bliss. My kin and I are closer now thanks to her…

She’s calling again… Our dance resumes anew as she embraces us… The moon is calling… Luna… As long as we burn, you will never be alone…

“Sister?†Celestia called. Luna was crying. At first Celestia was concerned but Luna turned to her and smiled.

“I am fine, sister.†Luna replied. “Tell me… While I was gone, did you feel anything among the stars?†Celestia thought back.

“I did.†She said. “I felt they were alive just as the Sun is.â€

“Anything else?†Luna pressed.

“Not that I recall… Why?â€

“They kept me safe.†Luna said. She closed her eyes, fresh tears rolling down her face. “When Nightmare moon consumed me, I reached out to them and escaped her. My soul danced among the stars. They comforted me in my time of need.â€

“Oh Luna,†Celestia said, fighting back tears of her own. “I never knew.â€

“I know them all by name,†Luna continued, “Each and every one of them. They all shared my pain… They were so alone…†Celestia pulled Luna into an embrace. For a moment Luna could only sob into her sister’s shoulder. Celestia wondered how she could have missed this. But of course the answer was simple. Even when Luna was lost to her jealousy the stars were still hers. Celestia could move the moon, and she could move the stars, but she couldn’t truly feel them, not the way she could her Sun. Luna’s sobs subsided a bit but she remained in her sister’s embrace.

“I am so grateful they were there for you when I could not be.†Celestia said.

“Sister, please,†Luna pleaded.

“You’re right,†Celestia sighed, “It’s behind us, and there it shall stay.â€

“Thank you.†Silence hung between them again. After a while, Luna broke their embrace. “They helped me, you know.â€

“Indeed I do,†Celestia nodded. “The stars will aid in her escape.†Luna cocked her head in silent question. “It’s a quote from a book of prophecy. Twilight Sparkle brought it to my attention just before you were freed.â€

“Of course she did,†Luna smiled. There was a knock at the door.

“Princess Luna?â€

“You may enter.†The door opened to reveal a Pegasus clad in the armor of the Lunar Guard. His coat was a deep but dull red, and his pale eyes were almost as white as his mane.

“Captain Night Wing.†Celestia said.

“Your highness,†Night Wing bowed, “I was just checking on Luna. She sorta disappeared on me.â€

“Thank you Night Wing,†Luna smiled. “I’m fine.â€

“Good,†Night Wing returned the smile.

“Well,†Celestia said, “I believe I shall retire for the night.â€

“Rest well sister,†Luna called as Celestia left the room, closing the door behind her. Luna turned her attention to the stars once more.

“Are you sure you’re ok Luna?†Night Wing asked joining her at her window.

“Yes,†she replied. “I just needed some time among old friends.â€

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