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Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-17 03:54:26 EDT

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“Words started to form the closer I got. Attack, pain, hurt, blood- my legs moved faster, propelling me to the entrance of the castle.”

"How familiar are you with the Nereus incident?" she asked.

"A little?" Nereus was an out-of-the-way ocean planet that had been colonized by corporate interests hundreds of years ago. It entered the spotlight recently after the discovery of nerephite—an incredibly useful mineral in energy production—and, of course, the inevitable fighting over it that followed. "Civil unrest on a formerly immaterial planet, at least in the galactic-political sense, over starship fuel?" Jorryn offered.

Shows vover of Rivals' Folly and the words: Not to boast, but my mom really liked my new novel. Rivals to lovers. MOrally gray. Space mercenaries. Disabled MMC. Sparring as foreplay.

Every time Hannah thought that she’d reached a stage of numb acceptance, of resolve to just survive through whatever was coming—and make the bastard pay in blood—a noise would sound in the distance and she’d panic again.
She was freezing, shaky, and unlike the day before when she’d had the room to search for tools or escape, today she had nothing. At least the panic meant that hunger was a distant and intermittent sensation.
The only time she’d ever felt this helpless was when raiders had attacked her family’s homestead, burning it to the ground. She’d hidden in the cellar at her father’s command, been trapped for three days until the fire had burnt itself out and neighbors could dig her out.
Of course, then, she’d had access to food and water stores. Even though the bathroom was improvised. And sounds of people coming were a positive sign.
She’d cried her eyes out then.
Grief stricken and terrified.
She was terrified now too, but she refused to cry. She’d never give the bastard the satisfaction.
It gave her something to focus on.
Her heart kicked up to high gear before her brain caught up with the sound of a jumpbike in the distance. Havoc? Or someone else?
And would it really matter anyway?
Half the opportunists on this fucking moon would take a bound woman—or man for that matter—as a fucking invitation.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Breathing too shallow. Pushing back tears.
The Ravens wouldn’t be using bikes. They’d be sweeping likely locations for her, silently. If they caught Havoc, if they knew where she was, the whole flock would swoop down. It wouldn’t be just a single bike.

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“I’m being absurd? She just told me she plans to raid this camp alone. That is absurd. Two dozen bandits, maybe more. Hostages. What is she thinking?”
“We’ve seen her handle groups of people before.”
“Nowhere near this many. And most of those times she barely made it out herself. If those hostages die because she is trying to show off…”
“A smaller group will be better for stealth,” T’orrin tried again.
“And if anything goes wrong?” K’allon argued. “This is a terrible plan.”
Just then, T’orrin saw the first curls of smoke rising from the camp.
“You probably should have brought this up before now,” he observed. “We’re here.”
“I didn’t know the plan before now. You need to call this off. Send for reinforcements.”
T’orrin hesitated, but only for a moment. “I trust her to handle this.”
“Well, I’m going to go talk to her. Tell her to reconsider.”
“K’al,” T’orrin called him back. “I’m asking you to stand down on this.”
K’allon raised an eyebrow. “And if I refuse?”

It opens its fanged mouth and makes a noise somewhere between the wail of a grieving child and the sound the demon ghost lady made in Raiders of the Lost Ark when the Nazis opened the Ark of the Covenant.
I indulge in the thrill of victory for about a second and a half before the Moth King wraps his shadowy arms around me.
I hate porting, but I've never been this glad to be whisked into a cold tempest of darkness and nausea.

WIPSnips a bluesky writing community tag
October 9 - raid
Share a line from your WIP with the daily word for inspiration
Use #WIPSnips. Don't forget Alt Text for graphics
Synonyms, variation and vibes are fine.
Support others on the #WIPSnips tag!
Hosted by rosie-j-potter.bsky.social

The image behind the text is a border that is dark blue with gold stars with a black background with neon blue border. An illustrated caticorn holding a pencil and writing in a book with a rose behind one ear is in the lower right corner. A different version of the same illustrated caticorn is curled up writing in the lower left corner

Starter pack for Mammoth, containing:
Relics of his past (a stone figurine)
Distilled charisma
The occasional faint smell of sun-ripened wheat
Backup clothes and emergency hygiene kit (body wash, toothbrush, extra set of suit jackets)

Aerina turned the pedals backwards, then forwards, stopping the wheel with the brake. She smiled, took the bike off the repair rack and handed it back to the boy. “There we go, as smooth as the day of its first chaining.”
“Wow, seriously?”
The boy was now full of giddy, pushing his repaired bike out of the garage without looking back.
“Hey!” The burly mechanic raised his head from the hood of the car and pointed a wrench at the boy. “Stay good. The next time you have a problem with it, ask before trying to steal stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the boy said, swinging himself on his bike.
“And say thanks.”
“Thank you, strange lady,” the boy shouted while racing away.
Aerina stepped closer to the mechanic while watching the boy leave.
“Even though he tried to steal from you, you helped him,” she said. “You're in honorificabilitudinitatibus.”
The mechanic paused for a moment, then said, “I don't know this word.” He turned to Aerina. “And I also don't know you. You're running from the cops, aren't you?”
“Is this another term for guards?”
“What, ‘cops’? I mean the police.”
“Ah, so many different words,” Aerina said. “Why, yes, I am running. How did you know?”
“The clothes you're wearing are given to police officers to train in, and perps who somehow lost their own clothes. Your bare feet make me think the latter.” He chuckled. “Pretty uncomfortable, aren't they?”

The worst prompt game ever, Every Friday (or so). Questions about pour writing or your art that you neither want nor have to answer.
Disclaimer: all questions are meant in the spirit of fun. Some of them can be interpreted as too mean or inappropriate, I request some leeway. If you think something is going too far anyway, it will be removed timely. Hosted by @symon-pude.bsky.social

Background image: A purple background with paper bats, plastic spiders, small orange pumpkins and skeletal hands.

#Char_Roleplay - October 9, 2026

(Moon in Cancer + Balance)
Side Characters - What is hte stupidest decision you have made lately? What happened?

#WritingCommunity #WriteSky #Worldbuilding #CharacterDevelopment #AmWriting

“So, what do you farm?”

Ruby turned to look at Blake with a confused look on her face. “Huh?”

“Raven called one of your mom’s spouses a ‘farmer’.” She shrugged and glanced back down the path toward the cabin they’d just left. “I figured that was your dad.”

“Ohh.” Ruby nodded and gestured around. “Oh, we kinda cultivate a lot of the forest around here. Berry bushes,” she gestured one direction, “fruit trees,” she gestured another. “Manage the local wildlife and game. Make sure there’s food plants for the deer and rabbits, stuff like that. But everyone does that a little bit here.”

“Huh. I thought Vale was more about crop farming.”

“That’s more on the mainland, where they have a lot more space and room to build walls and stuff.” Ruby shrugged. “If we built a farm here it would get torn up in weeks.”

“So kind of like Menagerie then.”

“Oh no, no, no, no.” Ruby turned and waved her hand back and forth. “Nope. You guys have full-on orchards, kelp farms, and stuff.”

“I mean that you’re making best use of a dangerous space.” Blake smiled at her. “So what does your father do then?”

“He teaches at Signal.” Ruby looked in that general direction. “Qrow used to but then he went back to wandering around Remnant and doing stuff for Ozpin.”

The cabin fell away out of sight behind them, cut off by the curve of the path through the forest, leaving them surrounded by the tall trees mixing brown leaves with scattered evergreens and pines. A faint breeze rustled through the trees with faint birdsong and what sounded like bells or chimes.

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