💾 Archived View for nightfall.city › writers-lane captured on 2023-07-22 at 16:23:25. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2023-01-29)
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A Coffee In a hand and a pen in the other, that's how writers write in Writer's Lane. Cafés and Bookstores form the heart of this Victorian-style neighborhood. In this district, you never know what story you'll find.
Patrons outside nearly cover the neon lights that emit from the bay windows of Alexandra's Café, illuminating the cigarette smoke that periodically wafts into the café. Inside, patrons enjoy coffee; books line the walls in bookcases as a woman on a rolling shelf ladder replaces empty holes in the shelves with books from a pile in her arms.
Delicious cookies for Writer's Lane inhabitants. These cookies don't track you, but you might come for more. Enter at your own risk.
Sit back, relax, and drink sip your favorite warm beverage. Here on Gray's Tea, we explore the wild wonders of the web. You will find curious sites, useful tools, and Web-Dev educational resources. Let yourself become lost in the wisdom of the world, find something unexpected, and maybe find yourself along the way.
Has a number of different things including retro tech, linux terminal stuff, videogames, a gemlog and is home to smolZINE.
Welcome to the 90's! here are my blog posts, my gifs, and funny flash animations,take a seat, i am going to make some tea, in this time go post something on guestbook, now excuse me, i am going to click le link to le cool website
Nightfall City's official newspaper main office. Read the latest happenings from every districts. We write about arts, moods, weather and people. 30c per issue.
You found a notebook. Are you going to pick it up? There's "Smol Pub" written on the cover. The format seems practical. Perhaps you can write in it?
Essays, fiction and poetry.
I do not know if I am falling up or down perhaps forwards or backwards if not a combination ― and am still wandering back in forth in the heavens for I have yet to find my place in the stars.
meeg is sitting outside a cafe, with an espresso and various scribbled papers scattered accross the table. They may look kind of bummed out, but if you join them for coffee they'll be happy to chat.
In a dark corner that is only sometimes there, a group of people reunite to talk about experiences in distant lands where reality itself doesn't work right. They are friendly people, and they are really inspired artists as well, but anyone who sees them must admit they are... quite strange...
Amongst the Victorian houses, you spot an odd building, one that stands out from the rest: a ranch house, one that seems to have aged like fine wine. Inside, cats roam about in the main room, one that is lined with books about eras long gone, and the walls lined with vintage-styled furry art.
There's a cabin hidden under the satellite dish on the other end of the block. This place doesn't have the quiet excitement of the rest of the lane. Paint splatters on the walls resemble...punctuation? Someone's carved words into the the floorboards: the manifestos, code snippets, and arguments of a tenant long forgotten. All are welcome to enter and read the essays littered about. The house should be empty, but something is here.
Writer's Lane's resident scatterbrain. Tends to ramble but always has good intentions. Sweet as peanut butter and just as nutty.
xenosynthesis of philosophy and code
a patchwork site of ramblings, poetry, kickass music, and the occasional ancient curse. home to your local online hermit and/or internet ghost :)
You see a small house engulfed by ivy on the far end of the street. You can't tell if it's abandoned; either way, you're pretty sure it's haunted. Insects buzz past your head as they enter and leave the overgrown vegetation in the yard, and you notice a concerning number of potted plants crowded against the windows.
A nondescript apartment with the shades drawn over the windows. A splinter of light is visible through the shades. Someone is inside, sitting cross-legged on the hardwood floor, typing furiously. The doorbell is hidden under an overgrown vine, but you can go ahead and press it.
Beside a place selling trinkets and sweets lies a shop with a seemingly occult persuasion. On closer look, the location is a mom-and-pop store with a focus on the conventionally supernatural. Writings on vintage computers, video games, and suspiciously large quantities of fiction involving witches, detectives and angels.