Friday Five

Nov. 6th, 2015 11:00 am
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
It's a bit more than five sentences but who cares? I FINALLY FINISHED THIS THING.

Nadir almost felt drunk. He was lightheaded and almost giddy from the sudden realization that perhaps he hadn't been imagining, hoping against hope at all. That there was something here and that Bastian felt it as much as he did.

Then Bastian's hand moved to slide along Nadir's jaw and creep into his hair and this time Nadir was the one fighting shivers and sounds as his eyes drifted shut. "Nadir," Bastian breathed and it felt like a benediction. He felt Bastian move, felt him shift nearer and opened his eyes in time to see Bastian's face so close it was distorted and wasn't that strange?

And that was the last thought Nadir had before Bastian exhaled against his lips and then kissed him.
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
I went back to this story today and figured why not post some more. This part isn't from what I wrote today but still, enjoy. It's more than six sentences. I don't think people will mind that.

It was true; the woods made Nadir nervous. He was happy and comfortable inside the castle walls, with his books and his sword, his education and his training. His routine. The woods were not part of what made him feel safe or comfortable. They were dark, even during the day, with their giant twisting trees, their windy branches, their silence.

That was what bothered Nadir the most about the woods. They were too quiet. He couldn't hear birds or anything else for that matter. It felt like slipping into pure absence of sound. He didn't mention it to Baz; that would mean actually admitting that fear aloud - never mind that Baz seemed to know Nadir was more than just unnerved. But he still refused. At age twenty he was nearly a knight of the realm, ready to leave squiredom - and the remains of childhood - behind. He couldn't be afraid of a mere forest.
actionreaction: image of three white flowers, the letters L and T, and the number 3 ([less than three] LT3 <3)
I have no idea if this will make the final cut or not but here's a thing!

The woods to the north of the castle grounds were an immensity. In all the years Baz and Nadir had trained as squires on the grounds, they had never managed to fully explore it. That wasn't to say they didn't try. Not long after becoming a squire, Baz had developed a habit of sneaking out and after the first few times, Nadir joined him if only to keep him out of trouble. Later, despite his protests, Nadir began to enjoy those excursions into the forest. The trees were evergreens, so thick and tall they seemed to touch the sky and blot out the sun even on the brightest day.

Nadir had to admit, the first time he'd accompanied Baz, he'd been more than a little afraid. He'd covered his fear with stern reprimands and cautionary tales about how much trouble they could get in, and how Baz was lucky Nadir was with him to keep him out of trouble. Baz had simply looked at Nadir with his green-hazel eyes and replied, "I know. I was scared too. I'm glad you're with me," then plunged headlong into the trees.

Looking back, Nadir knew he'd started falling for Baz then.

I got this all outlined today so hopefuly I can get it written soon!
actionreaction: photo of arthur and eames from inception. text: keep calm and dream bigger darling ([inception] keep calm and dream bigger)
I finally got started on what I hope will be a submission to Less Than Three's Lovely, Dark, and Deep anthology. This starts two side characters from my story that was in the Won't Back Down antho. Anyway, enjoy!

The third time Baz let out his perfectly calculated huff, Nadir sighed and put down his book. He knew that sigh, the weight of it, the balance, the careful planning that went into Baz sounding just the right amounts of forlorn and discontent. Baz had had years to get it right, after all.

Nadir resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, a habit he'd developed after years of spending time with Baz and instead swung round in his chair to look at him. Baz didn't even have the decency to look sheepish at interrupting Nadir. In fact, the corner of his mouth was twitching slightly, like he was fighting back a smile.

Calmly Nadir took in Baz's appearance. He was dressed in his walking clothes, casual clothing the squires wore when not in training. With their impending knighthood only a few months away, they didn't have much time to themselves anymore. So it was rare they found the time to - in Nadir's case - catch up on reading, though it appeared he was not about to have that time now either. "What is it now, Bastian?" Nadir used Baz's full first name, making it clear that he was displeased, albeit only slightly.

Baz smiled then, that charming, almost too-white smile that always crumbled at Nadir's resolve. "I'm bored."

It was Nadir's turn to sigh. "Of course you are. And you need me to do something about it?"

Baz only smiled wider, sensing an advantage Nadir hadn't intended to give him. "I need you to come with me."

Nadir narrowed his eyes, his dark heavy eyebrows knitting above them. "And go where?"

"Into the woods."
actionreaction: text: not so much writing as making a mess with a pen ([writing] making a mess)
I haven't posted writing in so long but I'm happy to post this, a snippet from Feint of Heart that will be PUBLISHED in Less Than three's upcoming Won't Back Down anthology! Wooo I'm getting published!

"Again."

Cal's eyes stung as sweat poured into them, but he didn't so much as raise a hand to wipe his brow. He could feel Sir Taren Veretti's eyes on him and he refused to look weak. So he blinked the sweat away as rapidly as he could, took his stance, and lunged again.

Once again his thrust was easily parried, but this time Taren slapped the blade further to the right, slid into close range, and smacked the flat of the blade against his stomach. "Hit. Were I an enemy, Cal Caison, you would be dead."

Cal gave in and shoved both his hair and a river of sweat from his eyes, but he didn't dare use stinging eyes and perspiration as an excuse. He'd seen Sir Taren fight with injuries that would have crippled a squire, and probably even a handful of Queen Selvia's other veteran knights. If he wanted to be half as good at Sir Taren, he had to be able to fight through discomfort.


This is a variation of something posted earlier, with a few lines more. I may post another snippet or two later, but as it's only ~15,200 words and it's being published for actual monies, I'd rather have as much of the whole story in tact in the anthology as possible.

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