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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

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Resources For Describing Emotion

Emotions

Without Making Your Character Feel Too Self Aware

Showing Emotion Without Telling About It

Emotions Associated With Body Language

Telling Readers What The Character Doesn’t Want To Show

Hiding Emotions

Expressing Cardinal Emotions: Masculine vs. Feminine

Writing Extreme Emotion Without Melodrama

Specific Emotions

Conveying Shock

Conveying Embarrassment

Conveying Disappointment

Conveying Love/Attraction

Conveying Annoyance

Conveying Relief

Conveying Uncertainty

Conveying Impatience

Conveying Shame

Conveying Resentment

Conveying Panic

Conveying Guilt

Conveying Desperation

Conveying Sarcasm & Verbal Disrespect

Conveying Confusion

Conveying Stubbornness

Conveying Frustration

Conveying Indifference

Conveying Indignation

Conveying Confidence & Pride

Conveying Smugness

Conveying Enthusiasm

Conveying Curiosity

Conveying Hopefulness

Conveying Unease

Conveying Reluctance

Conveying Worry

Conveying Humility & Meekness

Conveying Happiness & Joy

Conveying Amusement

Conveying Disgust

Conveying Resignation

Conveying Jealousy

Conveying Anticipation

Conveying Contentment

Conveying Defeat

Conveying Excitement

Conveying Fear

Conveying Hatred

Conveying Hurt

Conveying Being Overwhelmed

Conveying Sadness & Grief

Conveying Satisfaction

Conveying Somberness

Conveying Sympathy & Empathy

Conveying Wariness

Conveying Defensiveness

Conveying Desire

Conveying Doubt

Conveying Energy

Conveying Exhaustion

Conveying Hunger

Conveying Loneliness

Conveying Physical Pain

Emotional Wounds

A Role Model Who Disappoints

A Sibling’s Betrayal

A Speech Impediment

Becoming a Caregiver at an Early Age

Being Bullied

Being Fired or Laid Off

Being Held Captive

Being Mugged

Being Publicly Humiliated

Being Raised by Neglectful Parents

Being Raised by Overprotective Parents

Being So Beautiful It’s All People See

Being the Victim of a Vicious Rumor

Being Stalked

Being Trapped in a Collapsed Building

Being Unfairly Blamed For The Death of Another

Childhood Sexual Abuse (by a family member or known person)

Discovering One’s Parent is a Monster

Discovering One’s Sibling was Abused

Experiencing a Miscarriage or Stillbirth

Failing At School

Failing To Do The Right Thing

Financial Ruin Due To A Spouse’s Irresponsibility

Finding Out One’s Child Was Abused

Finding Out One Was Adopted

Getting Lost In a Natural Environment

Growing Up In A Cult

Growing Up in a Dangerous Neighborhood

Growing Up In Foster Care

Growing Up In The Public Eye

Growing Up In The Shadow of a Successful Sibling

Growing Up with a Sibling Who Has a Chronic Disability or Illness

Having Parents Who Favored One Child Over Another

Having To Kill Another Person To Survive

Infertility

Infidelity (emotional or physical)

Losing a Limb

Losing a Loved One To A Random Act of Violence

Making a Very Public Mistake

Overly Critical or Strict Parents

Physical Disfigurement

Rejection By One’s Peers

Telling The Truth But Not Being Believed

The Death of a Child On One’s Watch

Victimization via Identity Theft

Watching A Loved One Die

Wrongful Imprisonment

Spending Time In Jail

Suffering From a Learning Disability

Motivation

Achieving Spiritual Enlightenment

Avoiding Certain Death

Avoiding Financial Ruin

Beating a Diagnosis or Condition

Being Acknowledged and Appreciated by Family

Being a Leader of Others

Being the Best At Something

Caring for an Aging Parent

Carrying on a Legacy

Catching The Bad Guy or Girl

Coming To Grips With Mental Illness

Discovering One’s True Self

Escaping a Dangerous Life one Doesn’t Want

Escaping a Killer

Escaping a Widespread Disaster

Escaping Confinement

Escaping Homelessness

Escaping Invaders

Finding Friendship or Companionship

Finding a Lifelong Partner

Having a Child

Helping a Loved One See They Are Hurting Themselves and Others

Obtaining Shelter From The Elements

Overcoming Abuse and Learning To Trust

Overcoming Addiction

Protecting One’s Home or Property

Pursuing Justice For Oneself or Others

Realizing a Dream

Reconciling with an Estranged Family Member

Rescuing a Loved One From a Captor

Restoring A Name or Reputation

Righting a Deep Wrong

Seeking Out One’s Biological Roots

Stopping an Event From Happening

Trying Again When One Has Previously Failed

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

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cambion [4]

She let me read her.

When she dismissed me, my Mother let her mental wall crumble, allowing her emotions to crash through. It hit me like a tidal wave, nearly making me fall backward. She did it on purpose, to smash the nail in the coffin. Her word is law, and I don’t have a choice. I never have a choice.

I sob quietly on my bed, musing reluctantly over what I should take. The soldier told me to only bring what’s essential, then handed me a worn-down, blue backpack. Glancing around, I realize there’s not much here I can take. My room’s plain and empty, apart from my bed and the desk next to it. Mother believes that decoration and color serve no purpose other then filling you with petty satisfaction.

I remember when I was ten I once found a poster from Era 1, with pretty, cartoon girls striking different, exaggerated poses. The poster was covered in dirt and grime and ripped at the edges, but the girls looked so bright and happy that I felt so too. I showed it to Mother, wanting to sharw it with her. She gave the poster a bored glance smiling her ‘oh, simple-minded Aurore’ smile. She then took it from my hands, lectured me in her calm, condesending tone, and tore it up without a second thought. I never asked anything of her again.

I wipe my face in my sleeve as the guard bangs gingerly on my door, asking if I’m okay. I ignore him and walk over to the tiny closet next to my bed. I snatch random clothes off their hangers, too angry to care what I choose. I stuff them inside my bag, my mind a swirling storm of emotions I can’t and don’t want to understand. The guard knocks once more, each bang making my heart prick with annoyance.

“Give me a minute! God!” I snarl, my voice strangled inside a sob. I jerk the backpack closed, nearly stripping the zipper in the process, and kick it aside. Falling back onto my bed, fresh tears begin to roll down my cheeks. I don’t bother to wipe them away.

The soldier’s calling for me, but I push his voice out my mind. I hug my knees to my chest and retreat into my head, thoughts wandering to the terrifying Cambion I’m expected to trust. On the surface she’s a pretty girl with bronze skin and dark hair that’s wavier then mine, but everyone and their mother knows what that angled cross means. You’d have to commit a horrible sin in order to be branded, so people know to steer away from you. I can’t imagine the awful things she’s done. Or still does.

Unwelcome shivers go down my arms and back. The saying that with a Cambion comes the aura of death is true. I feel like I’m heading to a funeral where I’ll be the one shoved and stuffed into a casket.

“Miss Aurore.”

I yelp, finally noticing that the soldier had entered my room with his arms crossed. I regain my composure and glower at him.

“How long have you been standing there like a creep?” I quip. I can’t see his eyes behind his visor helmet, but if I did, I bet they’d be narrowed.

“Your escort is awaiting your presence.”

“Oh is she?” I say through gritted teeth, brows shooting past my hairline. “Wow, thanks, I wasn’t aware! What would I ever do without you, dear guard?”

I know I’m being terrible. I know it’s wrong to take my anger out on him when he’s just doing his job. But Jesus, I just can’t bring myself to care. It’s like my morality is a dull, numb void and I lash out in a desperate attempt to fill it in with something. Anything.

The guard takes a deep breath, most likely to keep his head, then gestures to my bedroom door.

“Please Miss Aurore, just come with me.” He says. The sheer exhaustion that emits from him is what dries up the insult bubbling on my tongue. A flash of guilt and sympathy strikes through me as I reflect on the things I said. I look down at my shoes, cheeks reddening with shame. I’m acting like a spoiled brat. The very stereotype I fight so hard for the everyone to drop.

“Okay.” I mumble. Slinging my backpack over a shoulder, I tail the guard as he strides out the room. But before I leave, I drink in my room for the last time. A rush of longing fills me. I’m not even gone yet, but I already miss the plain walls, the plain sheets, and the tiny desk. They weren’t the best but they were still mine. The only thing that’s ever been truly mine.

I ignore the protests of my heart and finally walk out, closing the door gently behind me.

♢♢♢

The rising sun smiles serenely over Haven, basking my city in a saturated tangerine glow. I amble down the front steps of home into the courtyard, blinking hard to keep from crying again. The Cambion and Mother trot a few steps ahead of me, conversing quietly. I note that the Cambion’s power-binding collar is gone, as well as her chains. I shiver. Nothing’s stopping her from attacking us.

We walk towards the front gate, where Icarus waits upon a sleek, black horse, along with another guard who’s on a chestnut one. In any other situation, I would have been ecstatic to see the beautiful animals, but no joy beats in me as I gaze at them.

Noticing us, Icarus perks to attention, expression hardening.

“Icarus will escort you to the border,” Mother says to the Cambion. She seems adamant on pretending I’m not here. “After that, you are on your own. Understood?”

“Got it.” She drawls, sauntering over to the chestnut horse. With a quick jerk of Icarus’ head, the guard slides off and she hops on. My heart stutters. Is this how we’re gonna travel? I imagine clinging to the Cambion and gulp. That’s almost…no is too close for comfort.

“Time’s finite, Princess.” She deadpans, looking over her shoulder at me. I send her a glare, but that only causes an amused smirk to stretch at her lips. Ugh.

I walk slowly and deliberately to the horse, ignoring the Cambion’s outreached hand as I climb on. I keep my hands stiff on the back of the saddle to avoid contact as much as possible. I turn to look at Mother, one final, desperate attempt to get her to change her mind. She sighs, crossing her arms.

“May God light your path.” She says in farewell.

“Because God is the path to light.” Icarus replies automatically, setting his horse off at a walk. I remain silent, watching my mother as the Cambion tells our horse to go. Mother turns without a second thought, heading back to the safety of our… her home now.

I can’t help the tears that spill over my cheeks as we walk through the gates, watching my mother walk away from me even after they close with a clang of finality. My fingernails dig into my palms, enough to draw blood.

There’s no turning back.

TAGS:

@everythingisnotblue @arrowtypes @teacup-universes @spacedylann

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#my story #my words #my work #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #cambion

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

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Ambient sounds for writers

Find the right place to write your novel…

Nature

Arctic ocean

Blizzard in village

Blizzard in pine forest

Blizzard from cave

Blizzard in road

Beach

Cave

Ocean storm

Ocean rocks with rain

River campfire

Forest in the morning

Forest at night

Forest creek

Rainforest creek

Rain on roof window

Rain on tarp tent

Rain on metal roof

Rain on window

Rain on pool

Rain on car at night

Seaside storm

Swamp at night

Sandstorm

Thunderstorm

Underwater

Wasteland

Winter creek

Winter wind

Winter wind in forest

Howling wind

Places

Barn with rain

Coffee shop

Restaurant with customers

Restaurant with few customers

Factory

Highway

Garden

Garden with pond and waterfall

Fireplace in log living room

Office

Call center

Street market

Study room from victorian house with rain

Trailer with rain

Tent with rain

Jacuzzi with rain

Temple

Server room

Windmill

War

Fictional places

Chloe’s room (Life is Strange)

Blackwell dorm (Life is Strange)

Two Whales Diner (Life is Strange)

Star Wars apartment (Star Wars)

Star Wars penthouse (Star Wars)

Tatooine (Star Wars)

Coruscant with rain (Star Wars)

Yoda’s hut with rain ( Star Wars)

Luke’s home (Star Wars)

Death Star hangar (Star wars)

Azkaban prison (Harry Potter)

Hogwarts library with rain (Harry Potter)

Ravenclaw common room (Harry Potter)

Hufflepuff common room (Harry Potter)

Slytherin common room (Harry Potter)

Gryffindor common room (Harry Potter)

Hagrid’s hut (Harry Potter)

Hobbit-hole house (The Hobbit)

Diamond City (Fallout 4)

Things

Dishwasher

Washing machine

Fireplace

Transportation

Boat engine room

Cruising boat

Train ride

Train ride in the rain

Train station

Plane trip

Private jet cabin

Airplane cabin

Airport lobby

First class jet

Sailboat

Submarine

Historical

Fireplace in medieval tavern

Medieval town

Medieval docks

Medieval city

Pirate ship in tropical port

Ship on rough sea

Ship cabin

Ship sleeping quarter

Titanic first class dining room

Old west saloon

Sci-fi

Spaceship bedroom

Space station

Cyberpunk tearoom

Cyberpunk street with rain

Futuristic server room

Futuristic apartment with typing

Futuristic rooftop garden

Steampunk balcony rain

Post-apocalyptic

Harbor with rain

City with rain

City ruins turned swamp

Rusty sewers

Train station

Lighthouse

Horror

Haunted mansion

Haunted road to tavern

Halloween

Stormy night

Asylum

Creepy forest

Cornfield

World

New York

Paris

Paris bistro

Tokyo street

Chinese hotel lobby

Asian street at nightfall

Asian night market

Cantonese restaurant

Coffee shop in Japan

Coffee shop in Paris

Coffee shop in Korea

British library

Trips, rides and walkings

Trondheim - Bodø

Amsterdam - Brussels

Glasgow - Edinburgh

Oxford - Marylebone

Seoul - Busan

Gangneung - Yeongju

Hiroshima

Tokyo metro

Osaka - Kyoto

Osaka - Kobe

London

São Paulo

Seoul

Tokyo

Bangkok

Ho Chi Minh (Saigon)

Alps

New York

Hong Kong

Taipei

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

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IM CRYINGFD

cambion [3]

My head feels like it’s a nanosecond away from popping off my neck and telling the rest of my body to go fuck itself. A piercing ache racks my brain as I come to, almost making me wish that Icarus used an actual bullet instead of a tranq dart. When he shot me he angled his ‘gun’ at my shoulder at the last second, and in the moments before I blacked out, one word kept repeating in my brain.

Dick.

I crack open one eye, wincing at how bright wherever I am is. I’m definitely not in my cell anymore. Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. Blinking and adjusting to the light, I slowly lift up my head and glance around.

I’m in some kind of office, a red, circular room with a huge window that shows off the disgustingly beautiful Haven below. I can’t help the small roll of my eyes.

A tiny gasp draws my attention to the left, to find a kid sitting next to me, her face white with terror as she stares at me. When I cock my head, she jumps, a squeak escaping her. Okaaay? I part my lips to ask where I am and what the hell a squirt like her is doing in whatever kind of torture chamber this is, but a clearing throat interjects softly.

“Renee Johnson.”

A chill goes down my spine at the hauntingly familiar voice. The same voice that gave the word for that bomb to kill hundreds. The same voice that ordered for an innocent girl to be killed because of the brand on her palm. The same voice that preaches fluffy bullshit so people will smile at the fact she’s a murderer.

I turn slowly, my heart twittering like a caged hummingbird. There, in a her sadistic radiance, sits the High Priestess. The mere sight of her sends a shock of fear through me.

“Yvette.” I say, sitting up in an feeble attempt to seem larger. Yvette flinches at her name, and I relish in it before she recovers. She picks up a sheet of paper on her desk, and I see a glimpse of my mugshot on there. Is that my file? I swallow, my hands pulling absently at my chains. Exactly how much information do they have on there?

“You’re Twenty-three. An ex-rebel. Had your wings clipped at eighteen. You have the gift of smoke; you can disappear and reappear and run through walls.” She pauses and looks up at me, a wry smile on her face. “But I bet that’s not even the half of it, hm?”

That question is rhetorical, because she’s already seen first hand what I can do. Now she’s just fucking with me. I inhale sharply and set my jaw, refusing to give her a reaction. Yvette leans forward in her chair, eyeing my paper with faux disdain.

“Such a shame. All that power wasted on…'illegal substance distributing.’” She quotes, before tossing my file away. My brows crease.

“Why am I here? What do you want?” I jerk forward, and heavy guns instantly click behind me. Guards. Yvette waves her hand at them, before regarding me with a censuring look. Like I’m some misbehaving child.

“I’m simply offering an opportunity for you to put your powers to good use.” She grins coyly, angling her head to the side. My eyes narrow.

“And what ‘good use’ is that, Your Excellency?” I make sure to spit the last words. Yvette doesn’t falter as she says:

“That–” Yvette jerks her head to the shaking little girl. “–Is my daughter. I want you to escort her through the Badlands to a safehouse located out west.”

The little girl and I gasp simultaneously.

“What?! No way, I don’t wanna go with her!” The girl points at me.

“It’s not about what you want, Aurore.” Yvette says simply, turning her gaze to her daughter. Aurore drops her jaw.

“But she’s a Cambion!”

“Nice observation, kid.” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“I’m well aware of what she is, sweetie.” Yvette continues on, ignoring me.

“But-!”

“That’s enough!” The High Priestess slams her hand on the desk, and Aurore’s retort is caught in her throat. “You are not to argue with me. You have no choice in the matter! Do you understand me?!”

The little girl looks as if she’s thinking about saying something else, but decides against it as she nods begrudgingly. Yvette sighs, rubbing her temples. She turns to me once more, an almost apologetic shine in her eyes.

“Anyway, you will guide my daughter safely to this safe house, and in exchange, you will be given freedom and your execution will be cancelled. Deal?”

So basically, do my bidding or die. I glare daggers at Yvette, my power-binding collar beeping a warning when smoke seeps from my fingers. I squash it in my palm. The Priestess quirks her brow in a silent question. Well?

I sigh. As if I have an choice.

“Deal.” I hold out my bound hands, and Yvette shakes one of them without a second thought. Aurore lets out breathless cry, watching her mother with disbelief swimming in her big, green eyes.

“Wise choice, Renee.” Yvette beams. She looks past me to what I assume is one of the guards.

“Take Aurore to her room to pack her things.”

“Mother, you can’t-!”

“You’re dismissed, Aurore.”

Aurore blinks, then jerks back as if she was struck. Eyes shiny with tears, she rises so fast that her chair flies backward and clatters loudly on the ground. Her dress flutters angrily around her as she storms out, the guard ordered to take her scrambling to keep up.

As soon as the double doors slam shut, Yvette collapses back in her chair with a heavy sigh. She looks about twenty years older since when I last came face to face with her. Age lines her face, and gray higlights her red hair. Leading Haven must finally be taking its toll on her. Good.

“Yo, uh, Your Lovelyness. It’s gonna be kind of a challenge to protect your daughter with these chains and collar on.” I pipe up, waving my bound hands in front of her. Yvette cracks an eye open, then utters a small 'oh.’ She sits up straight once more.

“Icarus, have her restrictions removed. And give her the required supplies and coordinates for her mission.” Yvette orders.

“Of course, Your Excellency.” Icarus appears behind me, and I allow him to take my arm and drag me to my feet. He pulls me along to the exit of Yvette’s office, when she speaks up again.

“And Renee?”

We pause and I glance over my shoulder at her. The sun rise outlines her powerful figure, blanketing her in a halo-ish light.

“You do know that if anything happened to my daughter on your watch, I would personally to see to it that you endure the slowest form of death imaginable, don’t you.”

Jesus fuck what have I gotten myself into? I gulp and nod, not even wanting to think about what she would do to me. Yvette smiles an awful, wicked smile, a tiny laugh emitting from her.

“Glad we’re on the same page, cherie.”

And with that, Icarus takes me through the doors, and the last thing I see is Yvette’s smile become a murderous glare before they close.

i posted this earlier on the wrong blog rip;;

TAGS:

@everythingisnotblue @skairiping @spacedylann

Comment of you’d like to be tagged!

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

Text

cambion [3]

My head feels like it's a nanosecond away from popping off my neck and telling the rest of my body to go fuck itself. A piercing ache racks my brain as I come to, almost making me wish that Icarus used an actual bullet instead of a tranq dart. When he shot me he angled his 'gun' at my shoulder at the last second, and in the moments before I blacked out, one word kept repeating in my brain.

Dick.

I crack open one eye, wincing at how bright wherever I am is. I'm definitely not in my cell anymore. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing. Blinking and adjusting to the light, I slowly lift up my head and glance around.

I'm in some kind of office, a red, circular room with a huge window that shows off the disgustingly beautiful Haven below. I can't help the small roll of my eyes.

"Renee Johnson."

I turn slowly, my heart twittering like a caged hummingbird. There, in a her sadistic radiance, sits the High Priestess. The mere sight of her sends a shock of fear through me.

"Yvette." I say, sitting up in an feeble attempt to seem larger. Yvette flinches at her name, and I relish in it before she recovers. She picks up a sheet of paper on her desk, and I see a glimpse of my mugshot on there. Is that my file? I swallow, my hands pulling absently at my chains. Exactly how much information do they have on there?

"You're Twenty-three. An ex-rebel. Had your wings clipped at eighteen. You have the gift of smoke; you can disappear and reappear and run through walls." She pauses and looks up at me, a wry smile on her face. "But I bet that's not even the half of it, hm?"

That question is rhetorical, because she's already seen first hand what I can do. Now she's just fucking with me. I inhale sharply and set my jaw, refusing to give her a reaction. Yvette leans forward in her chair, eyeing my paper with faux disdain.

"Such a shame. All that power wasted on...'illegal substance distributing.'" She quotes, before tossing my file away. My brows crease.

"Why am I here? What do you want?" I jerk forward, and heavy guns instantly click behind me. Guards. Yvette waves her hand at them, before regarding me with a censuring look. Like I'm some misbehaving child.

"I'm simply offering an opportunity for you to put your powers to good use." She grins coyly, angling her head to the side. My eyes narrow.

"And what 'good use' is that, Your Excellency?" I make sure to spit the last words. Yvette doesn't falter as she says:

"That--" Yvette jerks her head to the shaking little girl. "--Is my daughter. I want you to escort her through the Badlands to a safehouse located out west."

The little girl and I gasp simultaneously.

"What?! No way, I don't wanna go with her!" The girl points at me.

"It's not about what you want, Aurore." Yvette says simply, turning her gaze to her daughter. Aurore drops her jaw.

"But she's a Cambion!"

"Nice observation, kid." I mutter, rolling my eyes.

"I'm well aware of what she is, sweetie." Yvette continues on, ignoring me.

"But-!"

"That's enough!" The High Priestess slams her hand on the desk, and Aurore's retort is caught in her throat. "You are not to argue with me. You have no choice in the matter! Do you understand me?!"

The little girl looks as if she's thinking about saying something else, but decides against it as she nods begrudgingly. Yvette sighs, rubbing her temples. She turns to me once more, an almost apologetic shine in her eyes.

"Anyway, you will guide my daughter safely to this safe house, and in exchange, you will be given freedom and your execution will be cancelled. Deal?"

I sigh. As if I have an choice.

"Deal." I hold out my bound hands, and Yvette shakes one of them without a second thought. Aurore lets out breathless cry, watching her mother with disbelief swimming in her big, green eyes.

"Wise choice, Renee." Yvette beams. She looks past me to what I assume is one of the guards.

"Take Aurore to her room to pack her things."

"Mother, you can't-!"

"You're dismissed, Aurore."

"Yo, uh, Your Lovelyness. It's gonna be kind of a challenge to protect your daughter with these chains and collar on." I pipe up, waving my bound hands in front of her. Yvette cracks an eye open, then utters a small 'oh.' She sits up straight once more.

"Icarus, have her restrictions removed. And give her the required supplies and coordinates for her mission." Yvette orders.

"Of course, Your Excellency." Icarus appears behind me, and I allow him to take my arm and drag me to my feet. He pulls me along to the exit of Yvette's office, when she speaks up again.

"And Renee?"

We pause and I glance over my shoulder at her. The sun rise outlines her powerful figure, blanketing her in a halo-ish light.

"You do know that if anything happened to my daughter on your watch, I would personally to see to it that you endure the slowest form of death imaginable, don't you."

Jesus fuck what have I gotten myself into? I gulp and nod, not even wanting to think about what she would do to me. Yvette smiles an awful, wicked smile, a tiny laugh emitting from her.

"Glad we're on the same page, cherie."

And with that, Icarus takes me through the doors, and the last thing I see is Yvette's smile become a murderous glare before they close.

i posted this earlier on the wrong blog rip;;

TAGS:

@everythingisnotblue @skairiping @spacedylann

Comment of you'd like to be tagged!

#my story #my words #my work #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #cambion

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

Text

cambion [2]

Prologue, Chapter 1

I shoot up with a gasp, my lungs aching as if they haven't been used in years. Coughing, I frantically glance around wherever I am, my vision blurred. After a few scary seconds, it clears, and I recognize the sterile walls of the hospital ward. A huge sigh of relief leaves my lips as I lay back against my pillow. I’m okay. I keep telling myself in order to try and calm my racing mind. You’re okay.

Then the memory of what happened comes crashing down on me like a bunch a bricks.

The screaming, the blood- oh God there was so much blood. I swallow down the urge to vomit, holding my hands over my face. It was supposed to be perfect, my first time outside was supposed to be perfect. But instead all those people died. They died...because of me.

I gag, barely able to stifle the bile rising in my throat. I blink back tears knowing that if one nurse or servant catches me crying, I’ll never hear the end of it. They’ll be all over me, pestering me with unwanted comfort and affection. Cause I’m the Priestess’ precious daughter.

“Miss Aurore!” A high-pitched squeak resembling a mouse comes from the entrance to the hospital ward. Speak of the devil. I turn slowly in the direction of the voice, to find my excitable hand-maid, Ruth rushing towards me. She’s a pudgy lady with auburn dyed hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her dark eyes are laced with worry and panic, much to my dismay.

“Hel-” I clear my throat when it cracks. “Hello, Ruth.” My handmaid forces a bright smile, but I can sense the waves of nervousness coming off of her. I quirk my brow, but don’t act upon it as she checks the heart monitor I didn’t notice before.

“How are you feeling, ma’am? You’ve been out a couple of days.” Says Ruth, moving to check the bandage on my shoulder. As soon as I see it, it starts aching dully. It must have bruised from when my guards tackled me. Or when one of them collapsed on top of me after he was shot. I squeeze my eyes shut in a feeble attempt to push the image away. A spike of concern rolls off Ruth, my silence bothering her.

“F-fine!” I blurt out, inwardly cringing at how loud and slurred I sound. “I feel fine.” I add weakly, crossing my arms when Ruth reaches for my hand. Doubt wafts in the air, flooding my senses so much that negating my Empathy doesn’t stop it from attacking me from all sides. It’s moments like these where I regret keeping my power to sense emotions from Ruth and the other servants. Then, they’d at least try to keep from invading my head with pity, envy, and doubt all the time. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had servants fawn over me while their loathing and malice musks the room like they’ve never heard of soap and water. Or at least honesty.

Ruth sighs obnoxiously loud, bringing my thoughts back to my head.

“Honestly, Miss Aurore, you shouldn’t try so hard to mask your emotions!” She tuts. Yeah. You and your friends know all about that. I retort mentally. “It makes you look pale, dear. And you know you can tell me anything, don’t you?”

I hum, politely enough. Ruth isn’t a bad person, she never talks about people on purpose, she’s just a notorious chatterbox. Ask her a question about someone and she’ll answer it, then proceed to blabber about the craziest thing that person told them yesterday. I don’t have the heart to tell her that though; despite her flaws she’s still the closest thing I have to a friend (unfortunately).

Ruth seems sated with my small response-- she isn’t that hard to please-- and goes to check my heart monitor. For the second time? I frown, glancing over my hand-maid as the nervousness from before piques up again. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong.

“Ruth?”

“Yes, Miss Aurore?” She answers lightly, glancing over my monitor again.

“What’s going on?”

Ruth freezes, her hands hovering awkwardly over the machine. As I expected, she starts stuttering and fidgeting, so I wait patiently for her to regain what composure she can.

“Wh-what...um...what do you mean, Miss Aur-”

“Ever since you came in here, there’s been something off about you.” I say, trying to sound as innocent as possible, even letting a bit of my French accent slip in to boost. For some reason my servants seem to melt at the sound of it. “If there's something eating away at you please don’t hold back.”

“N-no, Miss Aurore,” whispers Ruth, feebly shaking her head. “I promised Her Clarity I wouldn't say a word and-”

“Ruth.”

“You’re being sent away!” She blurts out, startling both of us. I blink owlishly. Once. Twice. Her words still haven't processed yet.

“Oh, Ruth! You’ve done it again!” Ruth scolds herself, facepalming. “You’re such a blabbermouth!”

“Sent away?” I echo, staring down at my hands. I say it again, the two words sounding almost foreign. Shaking my head I fix my gaze on Ruth, who’s fretting about. I sigh, negating my shock in order to focus. The last thing I need is for her to break down and make the situation worse for both of us.

“Ruth. Ruth.” I repeat her name until she looks at me, tears shining in her eyes. “It’s okay. You’re not in any trouble.” I would die before letting you get punished because of me. “Is there anything else you know?”

Ruth shakes her head, rubbing her face in her sleeve. “That's all Her Clarity told me.”

“Okay.” I nod, smiling weakly at her. Though Ruth isn't exactly ideal, she does have her moments. And I can't help but to care for her in all her annoying, talkative glory. “Thank you for telling me.”

The doors to the ward burst open before she can respond, making us jump. We turn to see Icarus walking in with two guards trailing a few steps behind.

“Aurore,” he says, giving me a small nod. “Glad to see you’re awake.” Ruth and I exchange a wary look.

“Thank you, Captain.” I nod curtly return, rubbing my arm. Icarus stops at the foot of my bed, Ruth has to scramble out the way to avoid touching him. He casts her a bored glance.

“You’re dismissed, hand-maid.” He says. Ruth jumps at being talked to directly by him, then hastily bows. She shuffles out the room, determined to keep her eyes trained on her shoes. Icarus waits until the door closes behind her before speaking.

“Aurore, I know you only woke up recently, and you probably want to rest, but there's no time for that I’m afraid.” His face is annoyingly blank; as well as his mind, I can't sense anything from him. “Your mother needs to speak with you, and it's urgent.”

“I’m sure it is.” I say tiredly, trying to look as clueless as possible. “Can we make this quick? I just wanna get back to my bed and out of these rags.”

A cold, slimy feeling bubbles in my stomach. I may never see my bed or my room ever again.

♢♢♢

Icarus and his two guards escort me to Mother’s office in silence, the guards flanking me while Icarus leads. Looking around, the winding corridors I’ve known all my life now seem foreign to me. I’ve only been out a few days, but it feels like forever since I’ve been here. And that’s a terrible shame? An intruding voice in my head says. Maybe instead of worrying about that you can worry about where the heck you’re being sent to? I huff, and Icarus glances over his shoulder at me. I wave him off and we continue on in the nearly unbearable quiet.

It feels like an eternity before we reach the entrance to Mom’s office, mahogany double-doors guarded by two soldiers. At the sight of us, they hastily open the doors, surprise and wonder emitting from both of them as they stare at me. They must be newer. I muse, doing my best to ignore their shameless scrutiny. And I must not look like what they thought I did.

Aurore Lemercier has many different faces. She’s a petite girl with shiny black hair, she's lanky with short pink hair and she's chubby with no hair at all. But I’m just me. Pale skin with a plethora of freckles covering my entire body, and wild, red hair that Mother disapproves of. That was the Aurore people were supposed to see that day. But instead all they saw was carnage and gunfire. I suppress a shudder. God, this is all so messed up.

I’m brought out of my mind by the doors slamming shut. I don’t even remember walking into the room. I glance around the circular office, and find Mother standing in front of the large window in the back, studying the world outside. I’m certain she heard us walk in, but she doesn’t even glance at us. A drawn out moment of silence passes before Icarus breaks it.

“Uh, Your Excellency?”

Mother sighs, as if she’s been dreading this moment. She slowly turns, focusing her gaze on Icarus, then on me. Her features soften the tiniest bit. I’ve never been able to read Mother clearly, since she’s aware of my powers. She always puts in the extra effort to mask her emotions from me, but her face usually slips and gives me the smallest margin of her true feelings.

“Aurore,” she breathes, a faint smile playing on her lips. I beam in return, though my insides painfully contrast to the gesture. Mother folds her hands together and sits at her desk, eyes averting from mine. “It’s...great to see that you’re awake-”

“Why does everyone feel off, Mother?” I cut her off gently, wanting her to get to the point without revealing how I already know. “Ever since I woke up everyone’s aura has been…” I trail off, not knowing exactly how to finish my sentence. Luckily I don’t have to. Mother nods knowingly, a few strands of her russet hair falling in her face. She doesn’t brush them away, which is odd. She must be really stressed. She’s hiding it quite well.

“I was sure Ruth would have told you.” I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or thinking out loud. Knowing Mother it’s probably a little bit of both. “Maybe she has and you’re just hiding it. Either way…” Mother rises gracefully from her seat, her work robe fluttering around her. “I’d think it’d be best to explain while you’re both in the room.” With that, she nods to Icarus, and he nods to his two guards who in turn exit.

‘While we’re both in the room?’ What on earth is she-?

The double-doors open again, and the guards lumber back in but when I see what they’re holding, it takes every fibre in my being not to scream.

A body. A girl. Is she-? No, no, I can see her breathing. But the dried blood on her face could have fooled me. They have her wrists bound in front of her and a collar around her throat like she’s some kind of animal! Why…?

Then I see it. The tattoo of an upside down cross etched into her left hand. The mark of a sinner. My blood runs cold.

I'm face to face with a Cambion.

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

Text

cambion [1]

this means what pov its in btw anyway on with the chapter

Light from outside spills into my cell, causing me to flinch. I sit up- as much as a person strapped to a chair can sit up- as a soldier (Icarus, or Dickarus, either works) lumbers in, his heavy boots clunking on the damp floor. He plops into the chair across from me and crosses his arms, blue eyes shining with unmasked hatred. I grin at him, blood trickling down the side of my mouth from our last "conversation".

“You ready to talk now?” He asks, cocking his head. I force a laugh that admittedly sounds more breathless than sarcastic.

“What you wanna talk about, Captain Dickhead?” I say coyly, kicking my legs back n’ forth the the chair, causing dust to billow between us. “I’d talk about the weather but I can't really tell how it is from down here so-”

“Renee-”

“-maybe the latest news in Haven? Have any witch trials yet? What about a plague? I mean I wouldn't know, you lock Cambions in the shitty wasteland to fend for ourselves. And you call us the monsters!”

The all-too-familiar click of a gun cuts me off. I stare down the barrel as Icarus watches me from the other side. I know that through the sight he doesn't see a person, he sees a target. He could put one straight through my eyes right now and no one would cry. Not a single tear. The thought causes the smallest amount of fear to build up in my throat. I swallow it.

“You test my patience, Cambion,” Icarus spits the word like it physically hurt to say it. “No more games, no more beating around the bush! Tell me everything you know about the attempted assassination last week. Or I’ll end you right here and leave you for the rats.”

A heavy silence falls between us. Icarus’ adam's apple bobs as he awaits my response. The emotional side of me (also the human side) screams at me to tell them what I know. Which, in reality, is jackshit. I quit the rebellion years ago, and any info I have is dated and now most definitely inaccurate. But what's stopping me from making something up?

But on the other hand my logical side- my demon side tells me that there’s no point. No matter what I say he's gonna end up killing me as soon as I’m useless. And what’s the point of giving him the satisfaction of an answer? Let him saturate in hopelessness, and maybe he’ll get a taste of how Cambions feel. I angle my head to look around the gun and see Icarus’ face. He looks God awful, dark circles lining his blue eyes and his brown hair sticking to his face. He looks desolate. Desperate. The demon part of my brain squirms in excitement, attracted to the negativity like a lamb to a slaughter.

“Well?” Icarus prompts, unable to mask the anxiousness in his voice. In that moment, I see the glint of hope in his eyes. My demonic nature squirms in its ribbon cage, longing to caress that hope in its clawed hand, then squish it with a single flick of an clawed finger. It opens its tiny mouth, wanting to feast, wanting to be freed.

I just untie the knot.

Snickering, I lean my head forward, the cold tip of the gun grazing against my forehead. Icarus’ raises his brow as I laugh, almost maniacally, my demon side thrilled for what's to come.

“Even if I did know anything about that little gun show last week- which I sure as hell don't- what makes you think I’d just tell you!?” I say between giggles. My insides twist in delight as the boy’s frown becomes more prominent. The tiny flame in his eyes snuffed out. “I ain't no snitch, especially for some uppity, self-righteous asshat that- kkhk!”

Icarus snatches me by the throat. My chair leans back precariously on its hind legs as he draws close, nose brushing against mine. He uses his free hand to press the gun on the underside of my chin. My heart hammers in my chest, but my grin only grows as a strangled laugh leaves my lips. Icarus looks five seconds away from a mental breakdown, he’s literally shaking with rage. Then, as if he isn't digging his nails into my throat, he takes a deep breath and exhales, features softening.

“You have been absolutely useless.” Icarus says, nearly whispering. He releases me in one swift motion and my chair bangs unceremoniously on the ground, causing my head to jerk forward. I look up to find Icarus with his hand on the trigger. I frown.

“‘Bout that time, huh?” I quirk my brow at him. Icarus merely tightens his jaw, silent. I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“Just get it over with, you deadpan fuck.”

The gun sounds with a deafening bang.

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thewallsofhaven · 7 years ago

Text

cambion [0]

PROLOGUE

It was noon when the girl got caught in the silver storm. She remembers the petrifying feeling of not knowing what’s happening around her. How she could see everything but still be blind all the same. Her ears were ringing from the loud crack of bullets the rebels were sounding off.

In a heartbeat the girl was tackled by her bodyguards, slamming into ground with a painful thud. She yelped, her mouth muffled as her guards shielded her with their own bodies. She wanted to scream when one of them rolled away with a blood spilling out of his eyes and mouth, but she was dragged to her feet and whisked away before anything could escape her lips.

The girl felt bile rising in her throat. Blood was everywhere. It was all she the see, it was all she could smell. It was splattered against the front of her dress, dripping and staining. Her legs buckled underneath her and-

“Miss Aurore!” The guard holding her exclaimed. “I need you to stay with me okay!? Stay…”

But it was too late, the girl slipped away, head lolling back into the guard’s chest. Everything had turned dark, with the distant laughter of demons and screams of innocents as background noise.

¤¤¤¤

“The rebels made it into Haven!"

“I know.”

“They killed around seventy people, Miss Aurore barely made it out, and the city’s in utter chaos!”

“I know, Icarus.”

“This is bad, Your Excellency.”

“I know that!” The Priestess snapped, startling the Captain. After a moment she sighed with exhaustion, slumping back into her seat. Icarus grew silent, afraid to speak. The Priestess glanced out the window, where the smoky remains of her daughter’s stage stood, a twisted, poignant statement made by rebels. By Cambions. She scowled, and turned back to the Captain, rubbing her temples. She took note of his white expression and waved one hand lazily.

“You’re welcome to speak.”

“I-it’s no longer safe for your daughter to be here, Your Excellency!” Icarus exclaimed, hands wringing together. “We need to relocate-!”

“You’re not to speak if you’re just gonna babble things I already know!” The Priestess shouted, slamming her fists down on her desk. Icarus clamped his mouth shut, watching as the woman abruptly stood and began pacing.

“Where can she go, Your Excellency?” He spoke after a couple of heartbeats. “Say the word and I’ll send the swiftest Nephilim-”

“No.” The Priestess cut in again, softly this time. She turned to the window again, placing a hand on its pane. The woman grew silent, and Icarus so desperately wanted to ask her to elaborate, but held his tongue. The Priestess groaned, as if she was dreading to talk. “There’s...there’s a safe house I once used long ago out west, but to get there is to go through the Badlands.” Icarus couldn’t suppress a shudder at the name of the world outside of the walls of Eden. The soulless-ridden, wasteland where the Cambions resided. “To send a Nephi to take her would paint a large target on Aurore’s back.”

“Your Excellency…?” The Captain inquired, his brows hiking up. “What are you suggesting?”

The High Priestess let out a long sigh, her deep scowl adding a few extra years to her face. She turned, looking through him, green eyes blazing with dull fury.

“I’m suggesting that I need someone that blends in.”

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