sabelowl

[sabelowl]

potential experimental thingy - 2/2

Warning for somewhat explicit violence!!!!

~

Obviously this is a clever tactic to make herself seem less of an enemy than she really is. That's the type of person Ms. J is; someone who manipulates you into trusting her for her own gain.

But what, exactly, does Ms. J get out of his trust?

Shin ponders this as he watches her escapade from the roofs surrounding the temple. Just like earlier, she quickly loses the guards, though his Pula eyes see through her Mental-powered illusions this time.

He suspects she did that on purpose, so he could track her.

So, so interesting. And so annoying.

Ms. J is known to sometimes hire underlings to gather information for her. Maybe that's what she wants him to do.

Regardless, she wants him to ask her. He grins to himself. She's really intent on getting his attention; if he's being honest, this encounter was inevitable, since he got her attention first, probably.

He hops to another roof as Ms. J races away—and pauses, confused.

Her illusion falls away, revealing herself to guards up and down the streets she races past. Green-clad guards are everywhere, converging on her location. Pinning her. Some of them even swarm over the rooftops around her.

Shin almost laughs.

He sighs, smiling, and leaps, using one Physical-powered move to sail over the rooftops toward Ms. J's position. If she wants him to approach so badly, who is he to deny her?

If this is a trick, well, it's not like he wasn't planning on killing her anyway.

Several guards are struck down at once, and the rest are too stunned to react right away. Shin flashes around, trailing orange Physical magic behind him, as he Summons glimmering green pieces of walls and rooftops from the surrounding buildings to impale his victims. Since he has Pula, he defends himself at the same time as attacking, perceiving the guards' attacks almost before they go through with it, dodging and blocking with more Summoned objects that he then uses to pierce or cut their chests and necks and eyes. The air is full of the scent of blood.

Yet, there's still so many of them.

Shin catches a glimpse of Ms. J, under a new guise of Mental magic, standing on a nearby roof, watching him intently. He flashes up to her and crouches down, narrowing his eyes at the guards. He makes a face at them before grinning at her.

"Is this an apology for stealing my kill?" he asks smoothly, a bit breathless.

"That wasn't yours, any more than it was mine," she replies, her impassive gaze on the approaching guards, "but you may take this as my acknowledgement of you."

"Whatever you say, Mistress Deadpan," Shin says, beginning to Summon sharpened pieces of roof tile that hover around him, ready. He grins at her. "Are you going to run again, or were you pretending to have your mana drained so I could take care of the guards for you?"

"Both. You're fond of asking obvious questions," she remarks as she prepares to fight too, orange Physical magic rising from her skin and green Summoning magic around several more roof tiles that lift themselves from the roof underneath them, adding to the ones Shin already Summoned.

As soon as the guards attempt to spring onto the roof, the Summoned shrapnel shoots through their vibrant green uniforms, sometimes piercing into the guard behind them. Survivors trip on bodies or get rammed into by them, hindering them and others. They keep coming, but Shin and Ms. J sidle backward, slowly getting away, continuing to Summon roof tiles to attack and defend.

The roof, of course, gives in before their mana supply does.

Shin takes one wrong step backward, and falls, the roof collapsing beneath him. He crashes into a cloud of dust and debris.

Ms. J appears above him, crouching upon the floor next to where he fell. She's breathing hard like he is. But he bites back a cough when guards swarm over the hole in the roof. He braces himself, ready to continue defending—

The guards don't see him. He can tell they're frantically searching the dusty room beneath the hole in the roof, cautious of going into a trap, but their gazes completely glance over him and Ms. J. Despite their placement directly under the hole.

Shin gathers a bit of his own Mental magic and puts another layer of cloaking on top of them, even muting his voice to everyone outside the illusion. "Let me do it before you spend all your mana," he whispers, and Ms. J gives him a simple nod before dispelling her own magic.

They wait. The guards do eventually go into the hole, glowing with orange and blue magic. But Shin's magic is stronger.

When the guards finally leave, storming out of the apparently abandoned building, Shin lifts the illusion. A weight leaves him as well; now his mana can replenish.

He pushes himself to a sitting position. Ms. J kneels down next to him. "That was…exhilarating," she says sincerely, though her face remains as cold as ever.

"Hm." Shin smiles at her, resting his arms in his lap. "You kept me just curious enough to watch you walk into this disaster and be forced to fight next to you. Now your mana is actually drained." He tilts his head, still smiling eerily. "I hope this doesn't mean you trust me."

"I am sure you've realized our meeting was inevitable," Ms. J replies, her voice cold and smooth like a stone wall. "Dangerous people like you are usually eliminated, or coerced into working for me. Instead of being an active threat or rival." She idly flicks a strand of her white hair, full of dust like his, over her shoulder. "But you're hard to kill. And even harder to control."

He grins. "I'll take that as a compliment," he purrs.

Ms. J nods, as if that makes sense to her, and stands up. "I did fail in one respect," she says in a low tone.

"Besides not getting me to trust you?" She doesn't seem surprised that he knows her entire plan.

The infamous crime-lord turns away, studying the hole in the roof where a shaft of sunlight reveals bits of dust still permeating the air. "I should have hurt you on purpose, like I planned. Against all expectations, we accidentally fell into the roof, and you saved both of us from being arrested, instead of just yourself like a sensible person would. How funny." She looks over her shoulder at him, almost seeming to smile.

Shin knows she's probably baiting him again. He sighs mockingly. "How am I ever going to trust you when you say things like that?" he complains, tilting his head and grinning. Basically admitting he wants to trust her. Like she does toward him.

Strange, how this mutual feeling strengthens him more than his mana refilling.

"I was repaying a debt," he adds. "You wanted to lead the guards away from me back at the temple."

"It was still quite amusing. I thank you for your service."

He laughs without any humor. "Service?" he hisses, beginning to twitch again.

She turns away again. "You may call it what you wish. I hope we meet again…Shin."

He mockingly bows even though she can't see. "I hope you mean that…Mistress."

~

to elaborate on the title: still not quite sure how these two first met, but it might've been smth like this!! anyway this was fun to write!! :P ty for reading!!

[sabelowl]

potential experimental thingy - 1/2

Warning for violence and extreme gore!!!!

~

Temples in Puso are common. Most are for Kalu, the Great Magic Spirit according to Hinanapla beliefs. Some are for the Olimaw, which attract Puso and many others. One or two temples even depict an ancient bird, or the moon, over the entrance; the First Owl, and the moon Oros so devoutly worship.

These temples are bigger and grander in Puso City, the capital of Puso Island. Visitors are from all walks of life; old beggars shuffle forward to burn a sacrifice to Kalu over a flame burning bright, magic red, and right next to them, an extended family member of a Puso royal advisor, wearing rich green-teal robes, praying to Kalu while their sacrifice burns.

And yet, almost none of them have white hair, nor red eyes. Not like Shin.

He stands by the wall next to the temple entrance, outside the range of firelight so it doesn't reflect in his unique Pula eyes. Having his hood up makes him blend in with other anonymous visitors.

Shin spent a day or so scouting this temple, so he knows the layout well. Even the patterns of the visitors. It's cumbersome, but worth it. Probably.

He perks up slightly when he spots someone wearing long, billowing maroon robes with dark orange horns curling from their head, but then relaxes when he recognizes them as just a humble temple worker. Eh, still a potential target.

His primary target is a devout Hinanapla who frequents this temple. From what Shin has sniffed out, many people want this person dead, for one reason or another. He decided to beat them to it. Not for money, or infamy. Just because he feels like it. Also, he's never killed someone in a temple before.

Shin watches as a figure wearing white enters the temple.

When the other visitors notice her, they shy away. The ones at the sacrificial firepits leave quickly, fleeing before the person, whose white clothing is strangely out of place in a room full of diverse visitors.

Shin only has a hunch of who this is. He fights the urge to tail her as she walks past the sacrificial firepits, toward the back of the temple, where special scrolls and objects can be bought as sacrifices.

Before she can reach the long tables against the opposite wall, guards wearing deep green uniforms march into the temple, some glowing with the orange aura of Physical magic.

The figure in white does not halt, even after they shout at her to do so.

Shin waits a couple heartbeats before following the guards deeper into the temple as they advance after the visitor, who apparently vanished under a cloak of blue Mental magic.

He suddenly realizes where she might be going and speeds up, using both Physical and Mental magic to outpace the guards without alerting them of his presence. They seem to be uncertain of where to go; the temple is vast, with many hallways, lined with private prayer rooms containing personal sacrificial pyres. The temple owner, a Hinanapla with dark blue antlers sprouting from his brow, confronts the guards anxiously, slowing them down even more.

Shin spots his quarry—well, his second one—disappearing into a large prayer room at the end of an extravagant red and gold hall, her pure white cloak streaming behind her.

A sign by the door of the prayer room indicates it's occupied.

Shin skips down the hall, a twitching spasm going through his body. He might get to kill two people in a temple today.

The door is ajar, and through the small opening, he hears a shout for help before an oddly muffled splattering sound. That does not bode well.

He slips through the small opening with Mental magic hiding him, before dismissing the illusion impatiently—hiding would mean giving in to the apparent strength of this white-clad woman. Fears like that would oppress Shin, and Shin does not want to be oppressed in any way.

The prayer room has circular walls of a plain red-brown color. Four small sacrificial firepits are in each corner, while a fifth, massive one takes up the center.

The deep red color of the flames reflect off an even deeper red stain upon the otherwise polished floor.

"Huh," Shin says aloud, looking up at the woman in white. "Did you make him explode?"

Outside, he can hear the guards shouting. Their hurried footsteps are getting closer. He twitches less than before.

The woman blinks coolly at him. Her response is to start Summmoning, creating a deep green glow that seems to envelop the room around her.

Shin readies Physical magic, but the woman isn't attacking; instead, she Summons the firepits, snuffing out their flames, and sends them to the massive doors behind Shin, piling them to create a barrier with a fierce crashing sound. Now, the room is lit only by a small chandelier high above.

Shin looks back.

The woman stands right in front of him. "Since you asked an obvious question," she says, voice cold as he's heard it described, "I will as well: do you know who I am?"

She's shorter than the tales say. Much shorter. He finds himself looking down at her. And yet, the way she holds herself makes her seem like the moon, mysterious and bigger than anything in the Isle. Anything in the sky. Her black eyes have a depth to them, like staring out at the night.

Shin grins. "Everyone knows you, Ms. J," he says smoothly. He points to himself, grin widening. "Do you know who I am?"

"Shallowly, yes." She pivots, starting to glide over to the dead body of his former quarry. Ignoring the muffled shouts of the guards trying to force their way into the room. "The underworld has many names for you. The Untouchable One. The Wraith. Sigbin, a creature that preys upon the blood of innocents. Do you even know who this was?" she asks, gesturing to the dead body lying facedown; a Hinanapla with silver-teal antlers poking out from beneath their head. The rest of their body is gone, replaced by a huge pool of blood, splattered across the floor like paint. The hem of Ms. J's cloak dips into it, the scarlet a stark contrast against the white.

Shin waves his hand, shaking his head slightly. "Doesn't matter. I take back what I said; no one knows you. You're Ms. J, but also Queen Death. Lady Chaos. Duchess of cold doings and even colder faces." He grins at her again.

She's interesting, in that she seems to listen to everything he says. Absorbing it, like a deep void behind her fathomless eyes.

It's...a little refreshing, to talk to someone like this. Everyone else usually runs away upon seeing him, whether or not his hands are covered in blood and the spasm twitches his body like it is right now.

A thump comes from behind him; the pile of broken firepits being pushed back a bit. The guards almost have the doors open.

Ms. J strides over to him, her eyes on the doors. "It would have been better to meet under different circumstances," she remarks.

"Really? I think this is more...fun." He watches her, noting how she shifts her weight slightly. "Are you planning to run, Mistress Voideyes?"

"Yes," she answers faster than anticipated. "I will lead the guards away. You will flee."

Shin tilts his head. Ms. J, a criminal with more infamy than him in the few years she's been active, is helping him?

Interesting.

There's no time to question more. He makes himself vanish with Mental magic just as the doors slam open and the guards pour in.

[sabelowl]

Risila kneels at the crude table, bent over her work. The final touches are all that's needed. The entire place is tidy; Mesa cleaned the area for her to work.

She doesn't prick her finger on the needle. She doesn't rush.

At last, she stitches up the final bit and pulls out the loose thread and needle.

She grins, brushing her fingers over the newly sewn cloth. It's a blanket. One with a pattern of silver stars and swords and little swirls etched across its dark plum-purple surface.

Risila folds up the blanket, then stands up carefully and goes to write a letter.

This is much harder than sewing for her. It's little more than a note when she's done, but she shrugs to herself and puts it inside the folds of the blanket.

Then she goes to the postal office, requests Sage's little brother to deliver it, and walks back home feeling lighter than air.

Her grandmother doesn't know how to write, but a few days after Risila sent the blanket to Baliong, a little sharpened piece of wood is sent back to her. On its surface are green, gold, and purple patterns painted by her mother. She's sure her father gathered the materials used for the paint.

Risila shows it to Orren, who marvels at it. "This is a good arrowhead!" he exclaims, then tosses it back to her. "But I'm assuming you're not gonna use it like an arrowhead, huh, Ris?"

"Nope." She stores the little point of wood with her sewing fabrics and threads, where her most treasured possessions, however few, stay in a safe place. She examines each piece briefly: a sturdy plate and bowl set from Sage as well as a spool for extra thread, a scrap of paper with an intricate drawing from Scruffy, beautiful threads and strong needles from Orren and Mesa and Saf and Iris and Euka and Kyvel, who also gave her a pair of gloves.

Risila's not the most sentimental person on the island, but she still appreciates each little item. She smiles, shakes herself out of the silliness (though not completely, since she has yet to use any of the special thread), and closes the cabinet door.

~

this was for risila's bday, which was on May 7!! ;w;

[sabelowl]

Cause of my insomnia number one:

[sabelowl]

Warning for slightly graphic content!!

parallels about ms. j - 3/3

A stale breeze blows through the alley, carrying more rank scents to Shin, but he focuses only on a specific odor. It leads him to a side path in the alley, even darker than the main one.

He follows it to the first corpse.

The odor continues. A second corpse. A third. He studies each one. They were killed in very specific ways. This one is missing its head. This one has both its stomach and throat slashed.

If he didn't follow this obvious trail, what would she do?

He grins and turns away from the next body, hopping over the nearby fence instead.

As soon as he lands, he hears guards clanking into the alley. They go to where he left off, then pause.

Shin peeks over the fence.

The guards look disturbed as they examine the trail of corpses leading up and down the alley. Most of their faces are as green as their uniforms. He grins wider.

"This is Ms. J's work," Shin says as he smoothly creeps over the fence, taking out a dagger in each hand when he lands on the other side. "You should applaud!"

Their bodies pile up here, near the beginning of the trail. They add to the odor that led him to it. Shin wipes the blood off his daggers onto the green uniforms, smirking. He leaves the fresh new corpses for Ms. J to find, knowing she'd appreciate his unexpected contribution to her art.

[sabelowl]

Warning for somewhat graphic content

parallels about ms. j - 2/3

The dilapidated building seems to sag. A heartbeat later, its burden drops from its upper-floor window, landing with a sickeningly squishy thud on the city street below. Several burdens, all drooping out the windows before falling out.

Slap.

Splat.

Corpses. Dozens of them. The air is beginning to reek with their stench.

Risila forces herself to step forward when the corpses stop falling. She studies each of the ones on the street while her fellow guards usher the horrified crowd away. Her arms are folded tight to her chest, her mouth forming a tight line.

She knows who did this.

Risila shakes her head at herself. Anger is valid, but a stable line of thinking is what's needed. This crime was deliberate, the bodies placed precariously on the windowsills of the upper floor to begin falling out onto the street outside when given a gentle push. The bodies are connected by nearly invisible string, loose, so the first corpse would pull the other bodies along with it slowly. Sickeningly.

Risila relays this information to one of the guards so he can make a report, then instructs the others to help her clean up the scene.

A younger, newer guard takes a breath before hesitantly asking, "Is this…you know…" Her hands, her entire body, is shaking.

"The work of Ms. J?" Risila huffs, clearing her throat. "Yeah. S'okay to be sick."

The younger recruit promptly throws up.

[sabelowl]

Warning for slightly graphic violence

parallels about ms. j - 1/3

"Oros aren't supposed to get in trouble," says the ferrier. He's remarkably calm, considering the amount of blood pouring from the open wound in his stomach. Perhaps it's the shock.

Ms. J nods. "We aren't supposed to, but I do, anyway."

She uses Summoning magic to gag him with a piece of cloth before twisting the knife further, gushing more blood from the wound. The man's eyes are glazed from pain, but soon enough, he dies.

Ms. J leaves the knife in the corpse, standing up and Summoning ocean water to wash away the blood from her hands. Then she delicately steps off the ferry and onto Puso Island.

An ancient tradition of the Oros people is to avoid trouble, especially if you find yourself in other lands, where your white hair makes you stand out even more.

But, Ms. J has been to every island except this one, causing as much trouble and having as much fun as possible no matter what she had to do, and, well, that tradition never did stick with her family, let alone her.

Her family. Ms. J cloaks herself with Mental magic as she briskly makes her way to the city, the heart of Puso. The only sign of her magic is an extremely faint blue aura along her body. Years of self-teaching have taught her more than anything her foolish family could offer.

They would have scorned her like other Oros, for being here, in this lush place with fruit growing abundantly on trees and butterflies among the plants. All around, there is more color than anything she's seen in Oros. But the most colorful is Puso City.

Ms. J checks her illusion, which would make her seem pristine. The guards standing on either side of the city gate haven't seen her yet. Her parents would have scorned that as well; they would proudly announce their presence with haughty looks and rigid posture.

Disgusting. But not as disgusting as anything Ms. J would do for a bit of fun.

Now, what sort of trouble could she start here?

The guards look rather bored. She imagines they would have jumped at the opportunity to arrest her back on the docks.

Killing any of them would waste her time. She should get into the city already.

She simply makes herself invisible with more blue Mental magic and strolls in. The guards had no idea she was there.

They'll know of her name soon enough.

[sabelowl]

Becoming a writer is great because now you have a hobby that haunts you whenever you don’t have time to do it

[sabelowl]

if anyone needs me. i will be in the corner. contemplating the characters

[sabelowl]

It's such an amazing feeling when someone picks up on something in your writing that you 100% intended but didn't think people would notice. Like, YES!! My writing properly conveyed the thing it was supposed to!!! You are so awesome for noticing that!!! I am so awesome for writing that!!! I feel so good about my story now!!!!

[sabelowl]

You're a choosy magical artifact with a very specific criteria - in order to be deemed worthy, a potential wielder must have once committed great evils, but genuinely desire to change and atone for their wrongs.

[sabelowl]

[sabelowl]

Writers should NOT feel guilty about:

Skipping a day of writing.

Not having a perfect first draft.

Partaking in sinister, arcane rituals for inspiration.

Working at their own pace.

Enlisting demons and/or helpful spirits to aid them with editing.

[sabelowl]

What are some of your favorite tropes that you have to hold yourself back from for fear of overusing it?

it would've been slightly less personal to ask me what my organs looked like

[sabelowl]

“You humans confuse me. You try so very hard to be as boring as everybody else, and, when some gifted soul is born that has some small degree of uniqueness to it, you beat and break it until it fits into a dull little box that you can understand. Explain this to me, if you please.”

[sabelowl]

you can pry starting sentences with 'and' or 'but' out of my cold, dead hands

[sabelowl]

Lesser-known steps of the writing process:

Finding all the paragraphs where you used some hyper-specific word more than once

Rearranging paragraphs that you swear you wrote in the right order but turned out to be totally backwards

Going for a walk, coming up with the perfect line, and forgetting it as soon as you get home and open your laptop

Creating a separate document where you can dump all of those nice sentences that no longer fit in anywhere

Waking up in a cold sweat because so-and-so was supposed to be barefoot but never actually took his shoes off