writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia

So I haven't posted here (publicly anyway) in a while. I've mostly been sing this as a private idea diary and have shifted a lot of my writing over to my author blog. But I figured since i'm trying to do nano this year, I'd post some stuff here and keep myself accountable.

As you can see, I'm already behind.


But it's partly because 3 days in I switched projects, and haven't had a great 10K day yet, but I'm hoping for one later this week. I just realized I wasn't happy writing the story I started and that there was one I wanted to tell more, so I switched to that.

So, more to come here, but for now...I guess I'm back?

I'm being crazy generous today and giving you five paragraphs!

"Oh you have to have heard about how haunted our little town is," Oscar replied, a grin back on his face. "It's the main thing that brings in the tourists. All year long people trickle in to see the town that was to source of the documentary Perfect Harmony. Ever heard of it?"

Kunal shook his head. He wasn't exactly a skeptic, but he didn't actively believe in the paranormal either. "So how is this place haunted?"

Oscar stopped at an intersection. "That, Kunal, is a long story I'll have to tell you about later. I'm heading off this way, unless you'd like company a little way further?"

Oscar was giving him an out. Kunal could take it, or he could find some courage and let Oscar walk him back home. After a brief hesitation, he took the coward's route, but amended, "Yeah you can tell me later. But if there are spirits hanging around, I need to know so I can blame them if I bowl a rotten game."

Oscar blinked and then grinned. "Why, Kunal Sadaram, was that a joke? I knew you couldn't be so serious all the time. I'm really looking forward to Friday even more now. Good night." Before Kunal could react, Oscar turned and headed down the street toward his house, leaving Kunal to wonder why that comment had made this sound like a date.

Story finished at about 32K!

I haven't done this in a little while, but as I've been on a roll this whole week, here's five lines from my current WIP!

Kunal Sadaram untied his apron, smoothing it as he hung it up behind the door of the kitchens. The wall next to the door had neat rows, a hook and cubby system. It had been devised by Divya, the elder of his two younger sisters, to keep everyone's belongings neat, tidy, and perfectly in line. It was a reflection of her life. As Kunal looked at his sparse cubby, he briefly thought it was also a reflection of his own: organized, but empty.

How are you all doing on your projects?

I haven't done one of these in a while so I figured why not, since I wrote a good 1500 words of AU kpop fic omg what even is my life. Anyway...here you go. Squishy Satan & his soon-to-be demon consort.

And then a new opponent stepped into the ring. Unlike the previous fighters, this one was not built for brute strength. This one was lean, tall but not broad, with glowing red eyes Kyungsoo could see from his throne. His hair was the kind of careless that took effort to achieve, mimicking horn where there were not, which piqued Kyungsoo's curiosity. Red-eyed, slender demon, no horns, no visible tail- no, he corrected himself, noting the unusual belt wrapped around the demon's waist: not a belt at all. Intrigued at what looked like like a terrible mismatch, Kyungsoo finally sat up, his own eyes, usually quite normal in appearance, flickering bruise-black in the firelight.

Here's a sample of what I'm currently working on, hopefully for Less Than Three's Villains Inc. anthology.

Above the surface, the sun rose and, beneath the waves, the prince of Sujung rose with it. His Royal Highness Prince Ilseong slid from his bed of soft sea sponge, his grey tail uncoiling lazily. He rubbed sleep from his eyes, stifling a yawn. It was his day off and yet still he could not sleep late. Too many years of training with his father's warriors meant he rose at dawn even when he was so far beneath the ocean's surface he could barely see its light. That did not hold true for today. Today the sun shone so brightly it reached the spires of the palace, which caught and bent it so it spread across the kingdom. It had been built just for that purpose - to bring the kingdom's citizens light no matter how deep.

It was a beautiful day which made it so surprising when everything went terribly wrong.

Prince Ilseong was not a spoiled indolent royal. He was a warrior, like his father, built strong a lithe, his powerful tail as much a weapon as his knives and his teeth. When he smiled it was a baring of sharp fangs, and it was a reminder that the prince of the merkingdom was a shark. He was not genteel mermaid nor was he a siren of legend, with their beautiful voices and sometimes beautiful faces that lured men to the deaths.

Those were his sisters, some the former, some the latter. He was the hunter, the killer, the future king. He was his father's son.

So this Maleficient/Diaval post showed up on Tumblr and yabamena reblogged it and tagged it requesting fic. Just like that, I suddenly got bitten by a writing bug and this fell out of me, so I posted it for her. Maleficient/Diaval, G, etc. etc.

--

"Whatever you need, Mistress."

And so Diaval became Maleficient’s wings. He became them small and feathered. He became them large and leathery. He became her eyes, her breath, her iron will. When she darkened more, he became her compassion, her gentility, the part of her that still remained, however hidden. He became whatever she needed, not just because she needed it, but because he was willing to give.

And when she remembered how to open her heart again, she found he’d been there all along, for that too was what she needed.

And by that I mean "Five Paragraphs" to make up for all the Friday Fives I've been missing. This narrative was written for a application for an rpg two years ago. Sicne I just joined a new game with said character, I figured I should post this here...since I never did? Oops?

Anyway, this is Aksel. He can control you. When he says dance, you dance. He's the Puppetmaster, bitches.

( And he's not a nice guy. )

As part of a yearly tradition with yabamena, we write each other drabbles for the 12(+1) days of Christmas. Day 12: More surprise fanfic! Blaise/Draco is probably my #2 Harry Potter OTP and so they're the other one I've written more than a few fics on. So here's another, set in one of our RP-verses.

Blaise was a very private person and always had been. If fact, one of the things that drove Draco mad about him was how much he didn't know about him; the tall, dark, often cruel Zabini kept very much tightly under wraps. Over the years Draco had learned a few things about Blaise: his taste for wine, his disdain for anything he deemed beneath him, his quick mind, and his incredible patience.

( I believe in a cruel God )

If you're just tuning in, as part of a yearly tradition with yabamena, we write each other drabbles for the 12(+1) days of Christmas. Day 10: Finally caught up. Sorry for the f-list spam. I just have not been posting these daily as I should have. I only have two left after this and they'll be posted tomorrow and Monday.

JD had stopped celebrating Christmas years ago. When the holiday season meant either wheeling and dealing with administration at Salem Academy to stay there during the holidays rather than go back to the boys' home in Jersey, after a while, the holiday started losing meaning. When you had no family, no loved ones, what was the point of it? Certainly not the religious aspect -- he'd given up on that even longer ago. So now though he'd been an adult out of the system and out of Salem for a few years, Christmas was just another highly irritating day to him.

( All I want )

As part of a yearly tradition with yabamena, we write each other drabbles for the 12(+1) days of Christmas. Day 8: This is pretty schmoopy. Again, these folks have superpowers, but don't use them within this drabble.

New Year's Eve in New York City wasn't about fancy restaurants, champagne on rooftops, or cramming into Times Square to freeze among a million other people to watch the glitzy ball drop. At least, it wasn't like that for Chien. To him it was rum and cokes until midnight, affordable champagne at midnight, and dancing with Mo until they collapsed, but only after that sweet kiss that made him tingle even more than the bubbles did.

( New Year's in New York City )