#writeblr exceprts

[goldfinchwrites]

more looning, I might be easier on the excerpts from here on out? but ANYWAY. Loon really just is a story about a girl finding out other girls exist only at the age of 19, what a travesty

Taglist: @dearunreliablenarrator @transthadymacdermot @words-after-midnight @tragedycoded @llesbianwrites

@sunmerry-writes (ask to +/-!)

[danielleelizabethhh]

“Have you ever just sat amongst nature and tuned into all the signs and sounds around you?”

-d.n

[strangerays]

THIS JUNE

[wip introduction]

(originally known as the project Nothing in Particular and Everything)

start date: february 2021

stage: 4th draft

pov: first person, past tense

tags: #nip: inspo, #nothing in particular and everything, #this june, #this june inspo

Ask to be +/- from the tag list if that is something you would like!

Story

Ray's friends are finally back home from college. But in the seaside town where they grew up, everything has changed. Madison is always distracted by work and her controlling parents. She's dating Oliver. Oliver doesn't know what he wants to do with his life anymore, but he knows he can't stay in Point Blink. Lonan has made a new home for himself in the city with his boyfriend, so nobody is quite sure what he plans to do next.

June in Point Blink isn't turning out as perfect as Ray planned.

Judith just moved to Point Blink.

A somewhat disastrous pair, Ray and Judith fall victim to an act of arson on a mysterious landmark in the woods. Whilst the girls uncover the identity of the arsonist on a dusty old camera, they develop a strong bond with one another and a connection to their mental health neither of them had before. However, as Ray gets closer to saving herself, she digs up damaging truths about her closest friends that threaten to tear the five of them - and Point Blink - apart.

Characters

Ray – 20, a somewhat optimistic college student who misses her friends but will do anything to keep them together. spends most of her time in alone her bedroom or in the woods with a camera.

Judith – 19, the energetic new girl in town with an enigmatic background and a savior complex. used to live with her brother but decidedly does not anymore.

Lonan – 20, Ray’s best friend who loves his friends dearly but struggles to put himself and his art first. struggling to live with past decisions while navigating a new relationship.

Madison – 20, hates the idea of college and is very set in her ways, which can be detrimental to her friendships. works at a local coffeehouse.

Oliver – 19, the last person to join the friend group; the first person to leave. known for his boastful grades and sour humor.

[new-royston-cursebreakers]

Find the Word

Thank you @gummybugg for the tag! Find their post here.

I'll be tagging (with no pressure) @lyra-brie, @karangarin, @jay-avian, @wrenofthewords, and from the strangers list, @chainsaw-raven, @lexiklecksi, and @skyfireflight-writes for the words eat, water, fun, pop, create, and thank.

My words are mean, close, lead, minute, lie, and object.

From The Curse of New Royston:

mean

“Do you think there’d be a way to convince them to let me stay?” Cricket asks, peering down at Monty. “Gosh, I dunno,” Monty murmurs. “I don’t think there is. I mean, maybe…you could just ask them to stay at the same high school you started at? Going to a new school can be scary. Especially if it looks like what it does in the movies, with all those bullies and mean teachers and stuff.” “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t look like that,” Cricket sighs. “But it’d still be…I mean…it would be scary. It is scary. But they went through so much worse, moving here before I was born, then having to leave…”

close

Though Cricket wants nothing more than to turn around, go home, and cry, he follows Auster as they move out into the hallway. Each student passes with a small breeze and their thrumming footsteps shake the ground—none as violent as the shoe crashing down right in front of him, but it still sets Cricket’s heart pounding. Auster holds an arm out to stop Cricket just as someone much bigger passes by, their leg swinging in front of the two. What with how visible Auster is—crimson hair against olive skin and bright blue denim—they should’ve easily been able to see him! Cricket takes a shaky breath, a tear slipping down his cheek. With no comment, Auster continues, Cricket close behind.

lead

Heart pounding, Gio shakes his head, stepping back and taking Fletcher’s arm to lead out of the room. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize him. I saw him once before, at the school, so I don’t know what he’s doing here!” “Do you think he broke in?” “I don’t know.” Gio takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t even know if he’s real.” “Do you think it’s a symptom from the oxygen deprivation?” “I don’t—I don’t—” A wave of dizziness washes over Gio, the world in front of him swaying. He clutches Fletcher’s arm tightly, stumbling toward his friend in an attempt to lean on him “Woah!” Fletcher mutters, turning to help support Gio’s weight. He gathers Gio in his arms to keep him standing.

minute

How is it even possible to tell what’s good? How is it even possible to be a good person? As the sermon wraps up, as they stand and line up to get their wafers, Gio finds himself glancing up at that cross that Cameron had been fixating on before. How massive it is—bigger than anyone here. Certainly much larger than the one Jesus was crucified on, if that story’s even true. Jesus was a traveler, right? Assuming the Mormons are right, and Jesus did visit America, and on the minute chance that he ever visited this one tiny little region of Connecticut, he would’ve been small, wouldn’t he? Much smaller than even the smallest of Port Forver, who can at least count homeownership toward their worth—Gio assumes. Jesus would’ve been so small, no one would’ve been able to hear his words. Heck, they might not have been able to even see him. If Jesus hadn’t owned anything, then Gio doesn’t even know what would’ve happened to him.

lie

Gio’s mother clasps her arm over Gio’s shoulder, nails digging in, and pulls him close. She pauses for a moment, glances down at his tie, and quickly seizes it to pull the knot tighter, collaring Gio again. “Why don’t you two invite Unity?” she asks, gesturing toward the Abbotts. “It’s been so long since the three of you had a playdate! I’m sure she’s dying to catch up with you!” Like lightning, Gio’s options flash through his mind. Inviting Unity is out of the question; if she actually said yes, well, that’d be his own personal Hell. And there’s always the chance she could say yes! But if he refused to invite her, his mother would probably interrogate him why over dinner, and may ultimately bar him from seeing Fletcher afterwards. And how would he answer the questions she would have? If he brought up their falling out again, he’d be setting a horrible example by not forgiving as God has forgiven humanity, and by not doing enough to prove himself a good friend to Unity. He’s a Violett—he has to be the best moral example of any teen in the Grove. But he couldn’t just lie to his mom—what other reason could be possibly give for— “Unity!” Fletcher calls. “You wanna hang out with us after dinner?!”

object

When they’ve almost reached the front doors, Fletcher grabs Gio by the arm. “Dude, watch out!” he shouts, pulling him, but it’s too late a warning. Something slams into Gio’s foot and he watches, horrified, as a small body no larger than his index finger vaults in front of him and skids a couple feet. Tapping the object on his foot—a bike, it seems—aside, Gio kneels down, the shadows of his friends melding together as they lean over him to see. It’s Cricket, wearing the same brown coat he had been wearing a couple days ago. The tiny figure sits up slowly, lifting one hand to steady his head. He looks up at Gio, blinking and shaking his head to find his bearings.

[thegreatobsesso]

Word find tag

Words from @winterandwords: move, walk, run and fall :D :D :D

move

Callie POV

This was what she’d been waiting for. A two-for-one deal if she’d ever seen one: both of them bursting at the seams with completely opposite, sizzling, gorgeous abilities.

There was Bennett - the Perception one, a telepath. The one who could read and control minds, except - deliciously - not hers. All charged up with power and too scared to use it, that one. She was gonna have to break him of that.

The prospect thrilled her. She’d do it slowly, take her time.

But then there was Peter, the Matter one. The boy who could move mountains.

She didn’t have an urge to call that one by his surname. She wasn’t sure why. He was, quite distinctly, just Peter.

walk

Simon POV (showing up to Downing Bay after Callie’s destroyed it lol)

The cluster of metal buildings hovered threateningly on the horizon, and as they got closer, minds inside got louder, almost drowning Callie out. He wanted to tell them to turn around and take him back; the claustrophobia was overwhelming, the collective sense of being trapped.

The boat brought them underneath the smallest building; a scorched sign read Diagnostics in block letters with an arrow pointing up. What might’ve once been a loading dock was sectioned off with caution tape and hanging sadly down into the water, barely still attached to the rest of the infrastructure. They laid a make-shift bridge between the boat and platform to walk across.

run

Simon POV

“How could someone get in here?” Ken said, through clenched teeth, as Miller issued orders in proper military staccato. “Through all our wards? It’s… like they popped into existence underground, it doesn’t make sense.”

Indeed, a map of every ward in the school was running through her head while she spoke, every sweep of detection magic, every measure against this; it should be air-tight.

That was only half the problem, though. “The missing kid,” he said, “what’s their name?”

fall

Simon POV (another from the scene he and Callie first meet, because, gah - I always liked this scene but editing it for placement into the second draft was just a high point for me :D)

“You think you’re really something, don’t you?”

Her eyes lit up. “I know I am.”

He found himself smiling back at her. “Does this usually work for you?” he asked. “You fire off personal questions like an interrogation, act like you’re god’s gift, and people fall into your bed?”

“You’d be surprised,” she smirked.

“So would you,” he countered, “if you actually listened to somebody else for a minute or two.”

What had gotten into him? If anybody talked to him like that he’d get up and leave. Callie only cocked her head and watched him closer.

“I’m listening to you now, hot shot,” she said, a seemingly genuine smile spreading across her face. “Surprise me.”

He named the sensation with a tiny shock of recognition: fun. The thing he was worried about with everybody else didn’t apply here. Callie Ray was obnoxious but she was also a free zone, and he was having fun.

Tagging @authorlaurawinter, @the-orangeauthor, @dontjudgemeimawriter, @drippingmoon, and @sleepy-night-child with the words same, different, still, and always :)

[memento-morri-writes]

ATQH Snippet Excerpt #1 - “Mistakes Are Made”

This one is long, so it’s going under the cut...

[tw for implied neglect/emotional abuse, I guess??, and alcohol/drinking.  Big one for that.]

"What the hell is this?" She asked, unable to hide the tremble in her voice.

"It's a bottle of wine." Kris said, grinning.

"Don't be a smart-alec," she said, angry now. "I don't mean the bottle, I mean this. You." Kris ignored her, idly tapping the glass in his hand. "I haven't seen you drink more than a glass since you got here, and now you go and down half a bottle? What in the Morrigan's name is going on?"

Kris looked up and smiled. "Nothing's going on, besides the usual. I'm being kept at a reasonable distance until I stop being useful. But the joke's on you. I'm useless. So do yourself a favor and just send me home already."

Fallon's eyes burned with tears. "I don't believe you really think that. Whatever, whoever is going on here, this isn't you." Her voice shook, tears forming in her eyes.

Kris laughed, loud and sharp. "Oh, so you think you know me better than all of Oryn? Than me family? This is me. The drunk, the extra, the useless waste of space. I guess you don't know me at all."

The bottle slipped out of Fallon's hand and it crashed to the ground, wine spilling from the open neck. The tears she had been holding back came now, spilling from her eyes as she stared at him, speechless. Oblivious, Kris tipped his head back and took a long drink.

Fallon felt a bolt of rage shoot through her, and she crossed the space between them in two quick steps. Before she even knew what she was doing, her hand reached out and snatched the glass from his hand, and threw it. Hard. "What the f-?" The rest of his word was covered by the sound of shattering glass as the cup hit the wall and shattered.

"What the hell was that?" Kris asked, eyes sharp with anger.

Fallon grabbed his wrist, and looked him in the eyes. Her own burned with tears and anger, but her voice was steady as she spoke. "Don't you dare say you aren't worthy of love. Don't you dare go wasting yourself like this. You are a good man, Kristopher Pelle, and you'd better damn well act like, or I swear to you, you will be going home." She dropped his wrist and walked away, leaving the Prince standing, speechless behind her.

[karkkidoeswriting]

Your Antagonist’s Backstory: Week One

Verginia - Introduction

Prompt: This is pretty much like the classic intro - a small scene on who they are and how they see themselves, potentially with a moodboard or some further description. - provided by @yourocsbackstory​

Age: 58 | Personality type: INFJ | Gender: Cis Woman | Sexuality: Heterosexual | Nationality: Half-Angusian, Half-Algonian | Current home city: Civitas, Angusian, Angusian Empire | Title: Empress Mother, Duchess | Appearance: Gray curly hair, olive skin, petite features, sunken brown eyes, bony skinny body, short

The following scene is 13 years prior the start of the story, when Verginia was 45. There’s some minor spoilery things.

CW: domestic abuse Word count: 398

Verginia’s delicate hand rose and smacked loudly against skin. The emperor’s cheek glowed red. He touched his lips. They stained his fingers with bright red blood. His eyes shot at her and flared with rage.

“Who the damned you think you are, woman?” Drops of blood splattered through Maximus’ teeth on her dress.

Sharp pain throbbed on Verginia’s palm and wrist. She hadn’t ever thought she could find so much strength in her hand to cause another human to bleed. Her eyes rose from it to face Maximus’ raging glare. The purifying flames of her anger burned her from the inside. It was exhilarating. A cool and composed smile turned the corners of her lips upwards.

“Who do I think I am?” she asked. “I know I am Verginia the Third of house Emerentius. I know I am the rightful ruler of Angusian Empire. I -”

Maximus grabbed her wrist and shook her. “You’re nothing!”

She made sure her pain wouldn’t show in her face. Instead she stared deep into his eyes. “- know I am the daughter of the rightful heir. I am light. I am the Sun. And if you won’t take your hands off me, I will call upon the might of Ylía and he will burn your hand off, cousin.”

Apparently her unwavering gaze had convinced him, since a flash of fear widened his eyes and he let go of her. “You witch! I always knew there was something wrong with you!”

“I am not a witch.” Verginia raised her chin. She wasn’t going to hide in the shadows anymore. It was her time to take her place in the sun. “I’m the Avatar, Ylía’s hand placed on earth.” She opened the neckline of her gown to reveal her birthmark on the middle of her breastbone, shaped like a sun rune.

Maximus took a step back and shook his head slightly. His expression was confused between terror and rage, the truest expression of him. “How..?” He shook his head again. It was fitting her so called husband hadn’t noticed her Mark. “You did that with your dark arts!”

“My arts are only made of light”, she said, softly.

It was sealed. She would have to get rid of him. She had known that before revealing her true self. No. She had know that for a long time. Maybe from the day of his coronation. Maybe earlier. After all, it was her destiny.

[poemsnshiii]

I feel everything at once then nothing at all. I feel nothing and everything, all at once. I am in a daze, always appalled from reality and how sickening it is. I look around but I can’t feel a thing. My soul is numb from the continuous flow of time and tragedies of life; of mine and of others. There’s no escape from it, no running away, no hiding, no matter how hard you try it’ll come back at you.

I feel lost. I feel hopeless. What is to happen to me. What is happening to me. What happened to me. The more important question is, how did I end up this way.

I can escape from the truth, from reality just for a little while but what do I do with myself? Where do I take this soul which longs for something kind for something real for something to replace the pain it bears. What do I do until I find solace. How do I find solace when I am claustrophobic from the inside. My inside, it too aches for an unknown longing; it aches for freedom; freedom from myself.

[writinglyra]

Camp NaNoWriMo 2021 Excerpt - Day Nine

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly, pulling himself out from under her.

“Ye—yeah,” she answered, shaking the impact from her frame. “One of those flying bastards managed to peg me right in the stomach.” She pointed skyward, to the four or five sparrow sized drones flitting through the air lightning quick. One landed briefly on a power line, it’s artificial talons tearing the rubber before being knocked aside by a mass of glowing white swimming like a jellyfish through the air.

Taglist:  @danger-writes @aphteavanawrites @mayawritesbooks @reignnyx @valiant-wielder (msg me to be added)

[uraniawrites]

last line tag

tagged by @thepeninthestone and @tqrmentedkisses, thanks!

She looked at the body in front of her, while she hold her sword with determination and anger. This was the person who stole her a different life from this one. Amara was angry, full of hate and sadness.

“Stand up and fight me” ordered to Imryll, firmly.

“Why should I do that?” asked Imryll, pulling her head up, with blood in her mouth and wild eyes.

“If you could take me away from my family, I assume that you can fight me” Amara replied, heavy breathing and in pain. She was hurt too, but it didn’t matter to her in this moment. Ashes were falling from the night sky, like the snow... But these ashes were from the burning houses, trees and places that the dragons set on fire.

“Why you just don’t kill me now?!” yelled Imryll, crawling on the floor, moving in such a miserable way that Amara felt disgust, even more, when she saw the Queen bleed as she was moving. “You have all the power to bring the world down, and you’re wasting your energy on me? It’s such a shame. I didn’t trained you for this.”

“You’re right. You trained me to kill, but Sage taught me to love, to be empathetic.”

“Sage was so useful.”

Amara raised a hand and the Queen Imryll yelled and stirred on the floor, panting in pain.

“I will kill you” swore Amara. “And you will never hurt anyone. No more.”

tagging (you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to) @jugularss, @herondalelucies, @zielenheil, @halohidings, @percvalx

[betterloved]

NANO UPDATE | DAY 01

TOTAL FOR THE DAY: 2,822 OVERALL WORD COUNT: 1, 701 (I didn’t keep all my words, but I’m still counting them as words written)

EXCERPT / FAVORITE LINE WRITTEN  ↴

Kit ran through a series of emotions, starting with confusion and ending up with anger. How the hell could Trixie feel so comfortable giving out her address to a complete fucking stranger, she thought as she stood from her stool and padded over to the phone. 

She dialed Trixie’s number, thankful that she committed it to memory; she wanted to keep the rage fresh and raw. Kit took a long drag from her cigarette and allowed her fingers to tap against the handset.

[livvywrites]

tmq update [6/16/19]

today’s word count: 1,998 total word count: 60,054

been a while since i posted one of these!! been very busy with worldbuilding june, lol, but today, i woke up and was just consumed with the need to do some writing.

so have the most recent section i wrote today! 

“But I didn’t come here today to discuss your weakness.” Her gaze left Aishlynn—to settle on Alinora.

“I came to retrieve the key to my father’s dream.” She smiled, then, and it was a horrible, monstrous thing. “Hello, Lady Mynerva.”

Alinora straightened her spine. She wanted her armor. She wished she had worn it instead of these foolish things. Presentability be damned. They should have predicted something like this. Kai’os had let them go too far without retaliation. Of course he was simply waiting for the logical end.

“Kaltain,” she said, voice flat.

Kaltain’s smile stretched into a grin. “After ten years… you finally return home. But it’s not quite home, is it?” She leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. Her voice lowered conspiratorially, though it was still clearly audible. “I can take you home, Lady Mynerva. To your castle. You could have one last look around, before this world ends. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Kaltain hummed. “See, you say that… but I think you will.” She waved a hand. Black shadows burst into existence, all around Nevaria. Even from this distance, Alinora could see their skeletal faces, the poison-green glow of their eyes.

Wraiths.

Among the weakest of beings from the Forgotten Realms—but that didn’t say much. They were still perilously strong and very, very difficult to stop. Unless those arrows were tipped with moonsilver, their archers didn’t stand a chance.

“Fuck,” Talitha muttered.

“How the hell is she summoning so many?” Lyr hissed.

“Kaltain practices the forbidden,” Aishlynn murmured. “They all do. Stealing mana for their own. This is a paltry demonstration of her power. She can do far, far worse.”

Kaltain’s grin remained unchanged. “What do you think now, Lady Mynerva?”

Alinora pursed her lips. If she jumped up there, she could cut Kaltain’s connection to the Forgotten Realms—then use the sword to stop her. For good. But that jump… could she make it? And could she actually withstand the amount of power that Kaltain was using to tap into the Forgotten Realms?

She couldn’t waste her chance to stop Kai’os.

It wasn’t worth the risk. Not yet.

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

“Alinora, you can’t!” Rivana said. “We just got you back!”

“And if I don’t, we lose Nevaria, and everyone inside.”

“You don’t know that. We could fight back.”

Alinora shook her head. “It isn’t worth the risk.”

“Leave your weapons behind,” Kaltain said. “The bird, too. Then climb on the balustrade.”

Alinora began unstrapping her weapons, and as she did, she began to speak in a low voice. “Elaena. I need to keep Weaver’s Bane. Can you cast… I don’t know. A combination shrinking and illusion spell?”

Yes.

Elaena’s voice slid through her mind in a way that almost made her shudder—but she held the motion back.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t care what you do, but I need you to do it.”

Weaver’s Bane will join Liera’s ring on your necklace. When you have need of it, double tap it. It will resume it’s original form. While it’s in charm form, it will stay with you. But once you undo the spell, that’s it. The sword will return to Talitha in 12 hours—and it will not go back.

Alinora nodded. “That will do.” She removed Weaver’s Bane, holding it alongside a dagger. She felt the illusion spring to life around it, as Bane disappeared from her hand.

Talitha took the dagger from her fingers. Good luck, she mouthed.

Alinora quirked her lips.

Weaponless, she turned to the balustrade, and climbed up.

Kaltain took her hand, and hoisted her onto the ship. Kaltain glanced at Aishlynn. A small, smug smile had replaced her grin. “How does it feel to always be on the losing side, Aishlynn?”

Aishlynn’s fists clenched—but she said nothing.

Kaltain pushed her hand into Alinora’s shoulder blades, shoving her through the door, into the captain’s quarters. Alinora threw one last glance back, before once again abandoning everything, everyone she had ever known.

This time, though. This time wasn’t going to be an act of cowardice. This time she was going to save all of them. No matter what it took from her.

taglist: @quartzses; @idreamonpaper; @runningonrain; @witchywrite; @queenofsquirrelsstuff; @margaretcroftwrites; @purpleshadows1989; @klywrites; @she-writes-love; @sixstepsaway; @neptune-nereid; @firesidefantasy; @joshuaorrizonte; @waterfallwritings; @languageisbae; @lady-redshield-writes; @luciellesgarden; @dogwrites; @quilloftheclouds; @natalierosewrites

[typewriterwitch]

lunar alchemy ☾ excerpt #1

Rival alchemical scholars are plunged into a shadow world of arcane magic when their mutual obsession with a lunar ritual threatens the natural order.

draft: discovery

genres: contemporary dark fantasy + paranormal romantic suspense

pov: alternating third person limited

word count: ~600

Big thanks to anyone who’s interacted with this little project of mine! I am delighted and motivated by every note. Writeblr is such a generous space! <3

Excerpt:

The Prague skyline lit up in daybreak blues and oranges, the sliver of moon hung over bridges a thousand years standing, the maypole dance of wind-whipped hair—there is magic in a view like this. Remnants of it. Like the swirl of sulfur ash after an alchemical reaction. 

Foolish to stop and breathe it in.

Colin approaches Sylvie from behind and to the side. His hands are in his pockets. He leaves space enough for silence to ease between them as they look out over the glowing city. No accusations, no apologies. They were on the cusp of something this companionable not so long ago.

With the turn of her body, Sylvie shifts the air. Her scent catches in Colin’s throat. Metal sharp, her gaze cuts to the alkahest pendant rising and falling with his chest. “I can feel it from here.” Beneath the chip on Sylvie’s shoulder, Colin hears awe.

His fingers twitch in his pockets. He is too fed up to tuck the pendant out of sight, resist Sylvie’s curiosity. Alkahest doesn’t belong to her world. Neither does Colin. The novelty will wear off when fear sinks in.

Sylvie steps closer, back sliding against the rail.

Colin doesn’t let his pretense of taking in the view slip even when Sylvie is close enough to reach out. Her palm hovers over his pendant. Colin has lived with the thrum against his sternum for a decade; that is not what unsettles him.

“Can I—”

“What are you after?” Colin has the words out, his hand locked around Sylvie’s cool fingers before his pulse can stutter back into rhythm.

Startled, colorless eyes meet his own. Whatever she sees there, her anger fails to kindle. “I know it’ll hurt,” Sylvie assures him. “Believe me.”

Colin is sick enough of all she thinks she knows to let her find out for herself. Sylvie’s fist closes around the uneven lump of alkahest. Contraband in her world, desecration in his. Colin had excavated it back when the cost differential between magic found and magic sought didn’t seem so high. Eyes closed, blood thumping, Sylvie holds tight to her proof of the arcane world. His proof she is more dangerous than she should be. She has to let go, sagging on the rail.

Colin shoves the pendant under his collar, where it can thrum at him all it likes. An object lesson on warnings and how to heed them. From a place of bitter experience, he asks, “Feeling everything you hoped and more?”

Sylvie struggles to fill her abdomen with air, as if Colin had held her under the Vltava River. When she raises her head, it is to meet his shame. He knows the hollow too well not to recognize it this close up. 

“I’m not Arcana, but I grew up in an arcane,” Sylvie refrains, voice edged with a grief Colin was quick to mistake for ambition. “I miss it, too.”

He searches Sylvie’s pale face so long he loses his turn to speak.

She puts in her earbuds, jostling him with her shoulder as she starts off. Colin catches Sylvie at the elbow. Even her indignance rings hollow now. Looking at her has unsettled him from the start. He doesn’t know what seeing her will do to him.

“I believe you.” Those three words are all Sylvie has asked of him and still Colin can barely part with them. He shoves his hands back into the safety of his pockets. “For what it’s worth.”

The compressed bow of Sylvie’s mouth hints at a wane smile before she jogs away.

So not worth much, then. Colin might have preferred it mean nothing to her. A backward glance confirms the evening sky has faded into mundane hues. His pendant thrums on, an empty reverberation in place of a beating heart.

taglist:

@mvcreates​, @fiama-l-hernandez​, @shaping-infinity​, @the-real-rg​, @wasting-ink-not-youth​, @lilquill​, @typewriter-jade​, @quilloftheclouds​, @crypticsx​

[theashofwkm]

“Every mer knows to avoid the krakens... they used to be gods and all they knew to do was take.”

— My Writing

[writingonesdreams]

March prompts 2019 - Nonsense

For @writeblrs from the March Seuss prompts 2019

(For context these are Anise's thoughts and how she grew up to be who she is)

It's all nonsense, they told me.

Please stop concerning yourself with that nonsense. I have been told that in so many ways. Some were raw and cruel, childishly jealous. Some were gentle and kind, coming from loving people.

I think those hurt more.

It was nonsense for them but it was my nonsense. It was part of me, my imagination, my soul, my feelings. It was what made me me, and I wasn't going to give it up. Often I was proud I stayed true to myself. Sometimes I hated myself, because I knew I couldn't have changed even if I tried. I couldn't live without it anymore.

I know my parents were just worried for my future. My classmates were just wary of something they didn't understand.

I grew up with magic inside me the world had no place for. There was no point in it, they told me. It was all nonsense.

I thought it didn't affect me. That I was strong enough to build my own way to a world where magic was the norm, where I could study and develop, where my dreams suddenly got a tangible shape.

I thought I didn't believe what they said.

Yet I spend my life trying to prove them wrong.

[firesong-writes69]

🖊+August and Terra :)

Terra’s such a powerful character to write, and I hope I portray her as eloquently in writing as I see her in my head. She’s been with me for the last several years, went under several revisions and plot changes, and yet she’s still here, more than ready to save the world. She’s quite strong and more warrior-driven than my other characters, which makes her harder to write, but all the more fun. 

Terra’s Head-canon: Terra was born on March 14th, 2490, in Colony Omega of the 24 Colonies in “The Green Zone” on New Earth. The story takes place in the year 2510, so she is 20 years old at the start of her journey. Her father was of African heritage and her mother was of Korean heritage, so she’s mixed race. She also has Vitiligo, a condition where over time patches of white skin grew on top of her brown skin. She’s an outsider in Colony Zeta and struggles in grasping the concept of “friends”. Most of the girls her age are scared of her. (To their credit, she does threaten to murder anyone who crosses her quite often). 

Fun Facts: 

She was originally born in Colony Omega but their village was ransacked by felines (four legged rabid mammals) and Scavengers (human’s who became infected because of the harsh climate and went insane). 

She was rescued by Dr. Harlem, the scientist of Colony Zeta, who was investigating the ruins of Colony Omega. He took Terra under his wing as her Guardian. 

Terra is what’s called a “Colony Hunter”, someone who protects the village and goes through extensive training/preparation. She tends to thrive in stressful situations where most people do not. 

Has trouble communicating her negative emotions. She does so through threats and the occasional stabbing. 

Is relatively quiet, but comforted by her sparring partner, Wyatt Ortley’s, presence. She confides in him about her worries about Colony Alpha, where the president is located. 

She’s not a mother figure by any stretch, but ironically adopts Lincoln Phoenix, a young boy who nearly drowned in a frozen lake. He is the first human being she develops an emotional attachment to. 

Has never attended a “social gathering” and feels uncomfortable when Wyatt tries to drag her to one. 

Terra’s birth name is “Theresa Annalise Bam”, but she now calls herself “Terrain Bam”. 

Has never known what it’s like to feel “heat” or “warmth” because she lives in such a cold climate. 

The inspiration for her name comes from the Latin root word of “Terra”, which means “land”, and Korean word for “Bam”, which means “night” or “chestnut”. 

Excerpt from “On the Far Side of Infinity”: 

“Is Wyatt your lover?” The boy asked, and Terra gagged.       

“No. Absolutely not. We’re partners.”        

The boy frowned, “You don’t consider him a friend?”      

 “I don’t have any friends.”       

“No friends, no lover, what is it that you do for self-fulfillment?”         

Terra glowered, “Survive.”        

“Well, you’re boring.”       

“I’m here, aren’t I? And so are you. What does that make you?” Terra snapped.        The boy opened his mouth to rebuke her, but thought better of it. He sighed deeply, and fell backwards onto his cot, no longer looking at her.