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CharLoft
24 members • Free
33 contributions to CharLoft
Jun 20 •
Saturday Quote
"I have found adventure in flying, in world travel, in business, and even close at hand... Adventure is a state of mind - and spirit." Respond in whatever way suits your character
1 like • 16d
“Adventure is a state of mind — and spirit. Master always says so.” Cai Hong raised her eyebrows hopefully at Xuxi. Granny Fan and Uncle Huang were feeding Ling, who was tired and being stubborn about eating the eggs on his rice. “I don’t need to eat eggs to have big muscles like Xi-ge! I can meditate and be strong like Hong-jie!” Ling folded his arms across his chest and literally turned his nose up in the air. Xuxi wasn’t afraid of heights. He’d loved cliff-jumping at the lake near his village as a boy. That wasn’t the same as standing on the narrow blade of Cai Hong’s sword, which she called Chengying. Just because it could take her weight and Granny Fan’s combined didn’t mean it could take his weight. “I know you have traveled many places and seen much, but seeing it from a new perspective will be an adventure.” Cai Hong raised her hand, and Chengying unsheathed itself halfway, as if it were also hopeful. The way Cai Hong talked about and to her sword like it was a person was rubbing off on Xuxi. She said her sword had a spirit, but a spirit didn’t necessarily mean a personality like an eager puppy, did it? “We won’t go far. No swooping or speeding. Just — up. Not so far up it’s hard to breathe, obviously. Not that going too far up bothers me, what with having been raised atop a mountain at all.” Cai Hong looked like an eager puppy too. Xuxi caved. Because — because he wanted to fly, too. To see what the world looked like from above. But once Cai Hong left, he would never get to fly again, and he wasn’t sure he could do that to himself. Only Chengying unsheathed fully, and Cai Hong stepped onto it, and then she offered Xuxi a hand. He accepted it after only the briefest hesitation, and then — then they were slowly rising upward, and suddenly he could understand why people painted immortals riding clouds. If people could really ride clouds, this was how it would feel, wouldn’t it. Perhaps Xuxi should have been afraid as the ground — and the trees and wagon and Donkey and Granny Fan and Uncle Huang and Ling — grew smaller and smaller till they were invisible, just specks of color on the streak of dusty yellow that was the road. But then he could see forests like rolling meadows of grass, and the glittering ribbon of rivers, and the mirror-sheen of a lake.
0 likes • 16d
@Gs S thank you! Slowly still figuring everyone out…
19d •
Brainstorm: For A Restaurant Opening
The night didn’t simply fall. It collapsed — a great trembling shudder rolling through the sky as if the heavens themselves were cracking under the weight of something long‑foretold. Streetlamps flickered like dying constellations. The air thickened with the metallic scent of rain and prophecy. The city held its breath, waiting for the moment it knew was coming. And then she stepped into the world. A blonde woman emerged from the collapsing night as though she had been carved from the last surviving shard of daylight. Neon caught in her hair, turning it into a crown of molten gold. The storm wind curled around her like a guardian reluctant to let her go. She moved with the gravity of a myth returning to flesh — a presence so luminous the darkness seemed to recoil. But it was her eyes that changed everything. She looked at you not with curiosity, not with recognition — but with inevitability. As though she had crossed the entire night to reach you. As though every step she had ever taken had been leading her to our doorway. As though the city itself had conspired to deliver her into your orbit. Behind her, our restaurant opened its doors. Not like a business. Like a rupture in the fabric of fate. A breach carved into the bones of the city, waiting for those who understand that ritual can be intimate, that gathering can be perilous, that a single night can alter the trajectory of a life. A room where the mundane dissolves and something older, hungrier, and more honest steps forward. She didn’t hesitate. She walked toward the doorway as if she belonged to it — and to you. Our members aren’t invited. They’re summoned. This place wasn’t designed. It was called forth. Chefs move like priests of forgotten fire. Designers bend neon into sigils. Artists sculpt the room like a legend clawing its way back into the world. The space shifts its mood like a deity deciding who it will spare — and who it will mark. But she doesn’t seem afraid. She seems drawn — to the danger, to the ritual, to the possibility of you.
0 likes • 18d
I love how poetic and vivid this is!
19d •
Munday- Diversity
Let's talk about diversity in characters. Writing characters of different races, backgrounds, sexualities, and beliefs without resorting to stereotypes is one of our most important tasks as writers. Humanity has a lot of facets - and then there's aliens, vampires, and anthromorphs to consider! Share some of your favorite resources, links or advice for writing on the diverse spectrum of humanity.
2 likes • 18d
A resource I recommend a lot: https://writingwithcolor.tumblr.com/archive
22d •
response to: a comment in "Thursday- It's the Little Things"
@Gs S : I pivoted from your Comment: "This is only for @Laura Cushing 's entertainment, and not canon." and the picture you pasted . The thing about alleyways — especially the narrow, comic‑panel kind — is that they’re where men make their worst decisions with the most confidence. They’re built for it. The brick walls lean inward like they’re eavesdropping. The pavement carries the scuff marks of past mistakes. The air hangs heavy with that charged, pre‑chaos hum — the kind that says: someone’s about to do something stupid with conviction. This alley had that hum in spades. It buzzed like a neon sign about to flicker out. It smelled faintly of rain that hadn’t fallen yet. Even the shadows looked braced for impact. That’s when the guy in the DFX shirt stepped in — arms crossed like a human stop‑sign, planted in the middle of the alley with the immovable confidence of someone who’s prevented this exact disaster before. His stance wasn’t aggressive; it was resigned. The tired, affectionate authority men use when they’ve seen this brand of trouble enough times to predict the ending. “Dude. Don’t you dare.” Not angry. Not panicked. Just a line delivered with the weight of experience — the kind that turns into folklore if you say it at the right moment. The other guy — glasses, orange shirt, too much momentum for his own good — froze mid‑stride. His foot hovered above the pavement like even gravity was waiting to see what he’d do. He had the look of someone about to commit a narrative mistake he’d later call “character development,” the kind you only survive because someone intervenes. Behind them, the alley stretched out like a stage waiting for the wrong choice. A long corridor of brick and shadow. A runway for regret. A place where even the graffiti seemed to whisper, Don’t. And for a moment, the whole scene held its breath. The air stilled.
2 likes • 22d
I loved the story you told for this picture. Your prose is beautiful!
26d •
Munday- Setting
Setting survey! Answer as many or as few questions as you like. 1. How important a role does setting play in your stories? 2. How specific is your setting? Do you prefer to leave more to the imagination, or describe everything in detail? 3. Which of the five senses is it easiest for you to evoke with place settings? Which is the hardest? 4. How does your character interact with his/her setting? 5. What would change about your character if you changed the setting? 6. How would you classify your setting (Alternate history, Dystopia, Fictional Country, Real Country, Fantasy World, post-apocalyptic world, etc.)? What are some other works of fiction that you admire that use this type of setting? 7. What is the role of time in your setting? Weather? Environmental conditions? 8. What other characters share this setting?
0 likes • 25d
1. How important a role does setting play in your stories? Depends on the game system. For the D&D game Cai Hong is running in now, we're early in the game, so the setting is vague, but so far it seems generic high fantasy medieval Europe pastiche. 2. How specific is your setting? Do you prefer to leave more to the imagination, or describe everything in detail? When I DM I tend to leave the wider setting pretty vague but the immediate setting I describe more to give the same some ambiance, but also one of our players is blind, so I try not to overload him. 3. Which of the five senses is it easiest for you to evoke with place settings? Which is the hardest? For me it's sight, which is kind of obvious. The hardest for me is smell since I have a very poor sense of smell. 4. How does your character interact with his/her setting? Cai Hong is very curious, and she also likes to stop and enjoy the scenery, and as an expert in meditation she is very good at being present and aware. 5. What would change about your character if you changed the setting? So much! If she weren't in a fantasy setting, she'd lose a vital part of herself in the way of her cultivation powers, but she'd probably still be a martial artist. If she were in a modern urban fantasy setting, she'd probably be more self-conscious about her looks, what with social media and all. 6. How would you classify your setting (Alternate history, Dystopia, Fictional Country, Real Country, Fantasy World, post-apocalyptic world, etc.)? What are some other works of fiction that you admire that use this type of setting? Setting is classic high fantasy medieval Europe pastiche. One of my favorite fictional universes with a similar setting is Tamora Pierce's Tortall series. 7. What is the role of time in your setting? Weather? Environmental conditions? Time is important as Cai Hong is quite disciplined and tends to rise and sleep at the same time every day, and also knowing what time it is affects who's on watch when the little caravan is between settlements.
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