#WordWeavers 13. If your MC was a music genre, what genre would they be?
A bit niche. Songs sung in Spanish but to Arabic music. The music of al-Ándalus.
en.m.wikipedia.orgAl-Andalus - Wikipedia
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#WordWeavers 2503.13 — If your MC was a music genre, what genre would they be?
If I can choose my DJ MC, I'd say electronica, house, and progressive. In hero mode, orchestral on the order of Flight of the Valkyries.
[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]
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#WordWeavers 12: Does your MC love the spotlight or try to pass unnoticed?
Luca, both of them, are desperate to be unnoticed.
In the Bright Luca is in a world with chaos on the rise, totalitarian laws popping up and a very familiar deportation-obsessed federal government. And he's caring for his new born daughter, who's mother was a non-citizen student who was gunned down by cops only half a year ago.
How much shit has to happen before you ~know~ you can't attract more attention?
#WordWeavers 12: Does your MC love the spotlight or try to pass unnoticed?
She would prefer to be left alone but she's picked a fight with people a lot more powerful than her.
#wordweavers 25-03-11 What's your most useful skill that could help you in your story's world?
Paranoia.
#Wordweavers Day 12 - Does your MC love the spotlight or try to pass unnoticed?
I think Shane, being a United Planets Marine, would love the spotlight (and do that too) given his mentality. The others more or less reflect how I feel, just want to do their jobs with as little drama as possible.
#WordWeavers 12. Does your MC love the spotlight or try to pass unnoticed?
Ashrah loves to be recognised for her fighting skills. She will challenge the most bizarre and dangerous of creatures to fight just to prove herself. She'll sometimes wear spoils taken from defeated enemies, too. Her selendang, for example, is proof of having defeated a yemil, a powerful and intelligent orangutan-like demon whose hide magically shields her against the elements.
Other than that, she keeps to herself.
A répondu dans un fil de discussion
Do you play games? If so, do they influence your creativity?
My family requires me to participate some Mario Kart or Party regularly and every morning I play Countryle, Wordle and Geoguessr… and those prompts 
(also #writerscoffeeclub and #wordweavers )
The latest have a positive influence on my creativity: Finding answers often leads me to dig concepts or introduce new ones!
#ScribesAndMakers 2025-03-12
I enjoy posting my answers to the #WordWeavers and #WritersCoffeeClub prompts, but I feel like there's never any discussion that comes from them which is a shame. I almost worry I would be intruding to respond to anybody else's because it seems to be so rare. I wonder if anybody else feels the same?
#WordWeavers Day 11 - What’s your most useful skill that could help you in your story’s world?
I think my experiences getting shot at in Iraq and Afghanistan, and working in various positions and military experience helps with my writing, since I can put the reader in the shoes of somebody that did see combat, and did go to foreign nations to do things that involve combat and the like. I think that helps with my stories a lot.
#WordWeavers 2503.11 — What’s your most useful skill that could help you in your story’s world?
Answering in the sense it would be useful to the furtherance of the plot as at least a noted background character: In Reluctant Moon, my skill would be photographer. Mind you, for them it's analog photography with darkrooms, silver salts, and chemistry. They don't use electricity, so no digital anything. Something different, arguably better, powers their modern civilization. It will take them to the moon. I'm not sure if the photos are even in color. It hasn't come up though the characters discuss some photos. How often do you look at a portrait and discuss how red his hair is or how blue her shoes are?
An #excerpt is called for! The male MC and the main series antagonist are together on the "palace" rooftop after, having been guarded discretely by praetorian guards...
Cyanic ... pointed downhill into the city with compact binoculars. "A day angel in the air. He has a long lens."
"I want to see them and any articles before they're published," she said.
Em, who also guarded us, launched herself toward someone who might regret flying this afternoon.
No. I don't have wings.
[Author retains copyright (c)2025 R.S.]
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#WordWeavers 3.11 — What’s your most useful skill that could help you in your story’s world?
Minding my own business! I'd be able to survive just by doing that. To be fair, it's a dog eat dog galaxy. You have to do what you can to remain amongst the living. I'd probably be a tarot reader on the street, catching coin / credits whenever I can. I'm a medium, so it fits. You need to get in contact with your lost loved ones? Come talk to me, for a price.
Me: *sees something shady happening*
Me: *minds my own business and leaves*
Me: I didn't see a thing, officer. Sorry.
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#WordWeavers 3.10 — What is the most useful skill your SC has?
I have so many SCs to choose from here. Let's go with Director Orson Krennic. His greatest skill is that sharp tongue of his. He can talk himself out of a lot of situations. It makes him dangerous. (Of course, we know how things end for him.)
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#WordWeavers 3.9 — Could you survive a day in your MC’s shoes?
No. Not a single moment, nor a day. I wouldn't make it. In any case, I wouldn't be on the opposing side in this story. I'd have to be one of the rebels, and I wouldn't be able to survive as one of them, either. I'm a gentle panda.
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#WordWeavers 3.8 — Which one of your characters is in the least safe situation?
Lady Disa is often on the ground during any wars or assignments, therefore it's always dangerous for her. It's a good thing she's as skilled as she is.
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#WordWeavers 3.7 — Which one of your characters is in the safest situation?
If I had to choose, it would be Governor Tarkin. It's a hard choice to make, though. Wilhuff is in the safest "situation" right now, only because he's always aboard the Sovereign (his ship). Besides, he's a dangerous enough man on his own. he can take care of himself.
A répondu dans un fil de discussion
#WordWeavers Day 11: What’s your most useful skill that could help you in your story’s world?
My deep and intimate knowledge of San Francisco itself? As a friend once observed when I was navigating us from Point A to Point B by the most economical route, "Kai, you know this city like a Dashiell Hammett character."
(That's still one of my favorite all-time compliments that I've ever received. 
)
#WordWeavers 11. What’s your most useful skill that could help you in your story’s world?
Do you know Gwenpool? That Marvel character who was brought from the "real world" into "comic-book world" and her superpower is to know everyone's secrets?
Yeah, that would be my most useful skill—I'd know everything about everyone, or at least about the important characters of that world :)
(Unlike in comic book world, of course, me turning myself into an MC doesn't mean I can't die... 
)
#WritersCoffeeClub 11/3: Do writing challenges spur on your progress?
Challenges as such, no. Never had any interest in NaNoWriMo (even before it descended into scandal) or any such thing. I’ve never felt the need.
But #WritersCoffeeClub and #WordWeavers are great for making me reflect for a few minutes on the practice of writing.
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#WordWeavers 2503.10 — What is the most useful skill your SC has?
This is highly esoteric even for her world. She was able to fight the main series antagonist (who was mind controlled at that time) and survive to tell the tale. This good-feels short tootfic, Reframing the Experience, helps put Bolt's dilemma in perspective for her.
https://eldritch.cafe/@sfwrtr/112497915608418589
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Eldritch CaféRS, Author, Novelist, Prosaist (@sfwrtr@eldritch.cafe)> #PennedPossibilities 324 — SC POV: If you could relive one day of your life without changing anything that happened, which day would you choose? Tootfic: **Reframing the Experience**
[*When my SC says armor, it's really a weightless magical exoskeleton that melds with her body. It looks like blackened bones, because it is. —R.S.*]
Oh, there's plenty of days I'd relive unchanged. Like the day I fledged, when I first flew on my own. Or the day learned the thrill of hauling things through the sky. Both good events in a rather dull and awful childhood that turned to cinders when my parents disapproved of the way I wanted to live my life. Said I aimed for the dirt not the sky. Maybe they weren't so dumb—I ended up badly, flying messages for a crime boss over a dozen years. But, then, there was that day last week...
I've told you a few times how I ended up with the armor and a new job training as a pretorian, you know, having faced down the greatest thaumaturge who ever lived, having nearly killed her. Impressed her.
I thought.
Well, my drill instructor was training me that dawn. I wore the armor. The thaumaturge dove at me, full speed. She's a monster flier, taller, more massive, immortal. I jumped into the sky. Fled.
She followed.
Though the armor let me fly like a sparrow, change direction in a heartbeat, and take a thumping only slightly changing my course, it had been *her* armor once. She kept appearing before me, striking at my face or heart, sending me into spins toward the ground, stalling me out, almost panicking me into flying into trees or buildings. For all her mass and the inertia that implies, I barely avoided her, half the time with her cackling at my barrel rolls or dives that sent down feathers flying. She had muscle; I tired despite the armor until I thought my heart would burst from my chest, at which point a flyby pitched me into the ground.
I skid across the running track on my belly right up to my instructor. I don't know how I didn't break a wing or my neck. Ok, I do: The Armor.
She landed beside me with a loud thump. She wasn't even winded! She told him, "She lacks stamina. Train her harder."
She leaned down until her face was in my face. I smelled maple syrup on her breath. She said, "You need to use the magic in the armor. There's a class at first bell in the Ivory building, room B7. Shower and be there ON TIME."
I have wings.
I don't do magic.
I showered though, once my legs stopped shaking. I slunk into the class still half-frightened out of my wits. My new friend was there, the curse breaker, a former prizefighter, the one I'd fought beside against *Her,* that ended up with me getting the armor. It was some sort of advanced special Ed class for mages. I suddenly felt totally inadequate and I cried. Me. At the age of 27, I cried telling her my story, pointing to my purpling bruises, complaining that had *She* gotten in a good strike *She* would have caved in my rib cage.
My friend was having none of it. She said, "You're a day angel who just went ten minutes fighting *Her.* Somehow, you're still alive."
I hadn't thought about it that way. I later learned the word, "Reframing."
The instructor came in with a truckload of tomes and grimoires. *She* had prepared him for me. He gave me a magic primer. I knew it was a primer because it had PICTURES of youngsters playing. Despite the stares of the other students, I read the book.
Half hour later, I got the armor to glow dull red, like iron out of a forge. Truly. Awesome. Didn't know what it did except look intimidating, but still...
Awesome.
I felt my heart grow large in my chest, and it struck me. Someone (okay, the ruler of the nation) wanted me for who I was and who I could become, and because I was capable. *She* wanted me to aim for the sky. My new friend supported me and pushed me forward. I *liked* this, who I was, what I was finding I could be, could become.
And.
Oddly.
I realized, for what it was worth, my parents would approve. (And flap them if they didn't!)
Best. Day. *Ever.*
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