#far from the tree
So yeah, I have to study for very important exams and thats bc I used my precious time to draw, seems fair.
Good news I finally was able to do a piece I had in mind for a while, inspired by the beautiful fic “Far From The Tree” by aideomai, which I fell in love right away. Especially for a certain scene. I mean. Long haired. Draco. And. Swords.????
I’m not that fine thank u
As always if the author it’s not fine with this I’ll take it down immediately
For the general chaos of the scene it’s cause rn I don’t have a mind but just a puddle for a brain thankyouuuuu
The forever delightful Jessi Kirby sent me these pics yesterday while I was standing in Starbucks (iced venti decaf Americano, as you do). I let out a muffled scream and then pretended to casually browse the pastry display while trying not to melt down. I’m never quite ready to see my words beyond just a Word document on my computer.
(I also just want to clarify that Maya, Joaquin, and Grace are half-siblings, not triplets. Please don’t send me angry mail wanting to know where the heck the triplets are!)
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Coming October 3, 2017 from Harper Teen
FAR FROM THE TREE by Robin Benway
“What Does It Mean To Be a Family?”
Being the middle child has its ups and downs.
But for Grace, an only child who was adopted at birth, discovering that she is a middle child is a different ride altogether. After putting her own baby up for adoption, she goes looking for her biological family, including—
Maya, her loudmouthed younger bio sister, who has a lot to say about their newfound family ties. Having grown up the snarky brunette in a house full of chipper redheads, she’s quick to search for traces of herself among these not-quite-strangers. And when her adopted family’s long-buried problems begin to explode to the surface, Maya can’t help but wonder where exactly it is that she belongs.
And Joaquin, their stoic older bio brother, who has no interest in bonding over their shared biological mother. After seventeen years in the foster care system, he’s learned that there are no heroes, and secrets and fears are best kept close to the vest, where they can’t hurt anyone but him.
Robin Benway’s beautiful interweaving story of three very different teenagers connected by blood explores the meaning of family in all its forms—how to find it, how to keep it, and how to love it.
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CORRUPTION // FAR FROM THE TREE
Corruption might seem like the goal of hell, but it’s never been so cut and dry. Hell might be a place to torture sinners, but these days even that comes secondary to keeping the hordes of demons trapped down here fed and alive.
Which makes the corruption of the acquisitions field all the more worrying.
Cynthia steps up, calming her spirit. She needs all her strength for this. The field reaches out as soon as she gets close enough, the heat coming off of it scorching even for hell. Cynthia’s never been a spirit specialist, but she’s old and powerful and she’s one of the few demons in hell that can fix this.
The field calls to her and she lets it in, entwining her spirit with it. The corruption doesn’t burn, not her, she was born from corruption and disgrace.
It is uncomfortable though, a definite wrongness about it. Cynthia works her magic into the field’s, taking its corruption into herself. She’ll heal, eventually. As she takes more and more of the corruption her form slips, becoming more demonic by the second. She raises taller, her eyes blaze, her hair slowly turns to a mane of shaggy black.
When it’s done she doesn’t turn around. The demons will be looking at her, and they don’t need to see her true form. Nobody does. Dagon yells, orders them back to work, but their stares linger.
Let them stare, part of her whispers. The part that she buries every single day, the part that fights to return to circle nine. The part that wants to watch everyone and everything burn.
\
An excerpt from chapter one of Far From the Tree, the first book in the Hellfire Chronicles. Trying to motivate myself back into regular writing by publishing little tidbits again
I just realised I’ve forgotten the word tunnel for 20k words of my novel. Hell is underground and MADE OF TUNNELS, yet I keep calling them corridors and hallways. That’s a problem for future me when I edit though.
CHARACTER INTRO: ARCADIA
WIP: Far From the Tree
“You’ve trapped me here,” the angel says, lifting a hand. Magic comes, but not enough. Cynthia slaps it away, and the angel hisses as if the touch burned. Cynthia rolls her eyes.
“I’m guessing you’ve never used one of those before,” Cynthia says. “Which means you didn’t fight in the war. You must be new to the ranks of the seraphim.”
“Explain yourself,” the angel demands.
“Those orbs take one person a pop,” Cynthia says. “They sent you down here with one, probably figured you weren’t worth wasting another one on. From what I hear, they aren’t easy to make.”
“What are you saying?” the angel demands, her voice rising in pitch.
“They sent you down here to get stranded,” Cynthia says. “Guess they didn’t want you in the seraphim club.”
“You’re lying,” the angel says. Cynthia rolls her eyes.
“I’m Cynthia,” she says, not bothering to extend a hand. The angel wouldn’t take it.
“Arcadia,” the angel says. “They’ll come for me.”
“Believe what you will, seraphim.” Cynthia shrugs. “Thing is, you don’t belong down here. You’re not a demon. And if you’re not a demon, you get tortured.”
Arcadia is the angel sent to retrieve Lynda from hell, believing she has a way out for both her and the fallen angel. Instead she finds herself trapped, and has to either adapt or find a way out, and fast. A member of the highest order of angels, the Seraphim, there’s no way they truly sent her down here without an exit strategy.
Right?
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Well I thought I’d finished the first draft of Far From the Tree and could finally move onto the unnamed sequel, but then I went through it and apparently just didn’t write like three chapters in the middle there??
Words Today: 2,153
Total Words: 12,456
“Tell me about Calixta,” she says, surprised by her own voice, and Cynthia laughs, a broken sound that cracks the night open.
“Oh angel, she was nothing like you.” Cynthia pulls back, looks Lynda in the eyes, holds calloused hands in broad, strong ones. “I never meant you to be her replacement. At least, not like that. Not to me.”
“I know,” Lynda says, hanging her head, ashamed. “I’ve never had… I didn’t even have friends in heaven. I’m a bastard child.”
“We’re all bastards in hell,” Cynthia says. “You really want to know about Calixta?”
“She was your librarian,” Lynda says. Yours, in every way.
“She dyed her hair pink,” Cynthia says. It’s the first thing that comes out when she opens her mouth, the first memory of her bold, gorgeous Lixta. “It was either a dare or an accident, depending on who you ask. This was before all the humans made it popular. She kept it that colour until she died.”
Cynthia swallows past the lump in her throat, ignores the tears welling in her eyes. Lynda doesn’t—she lifts a hand, gently brushes them away, runs a hand over the place where Cynthia’s horn should be.
“Tell me more,” Lynda says, and there’s no lie in her voice, no hurt.
Forgot to do an update yesterday, whoops. So funny story, the character of Calixta didn’t exist until a couple days ago. I was reading through the stuff I alreaday had down before NaNo, found a throwaway line about Cynthia having a dead lover, and Calixta just kind of… happened.
Why do my OCs keep fighting I just want them to get along and be happy
NaNoWriMo 2019 // Far From the Tree //
Since NaNo is only 10 days away, I figured it was time to actually give some information on this new WIP. And what better format than in a comic sans presentation?
(taglist:@cats-crows-and-cryptids,@inspired-insomniac,@alternativeforensicscientist,@summerwoods2)
Just ask to be added/removed from the tag list!
Hey remember last year when my laptop broke three days into NaNo so I couldn’t complete it? Yeah, so now I’m doing this for NaNo 2020 instead :/
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My demon MC is now demanding a tragic backstory so that’s happening I guess
Well I planned to write a gory, horror-esque story about angels and demons but now the demons are cuddling so guess that’s out the window.
Words Today: 2,712
Current Words: 5,903
“Why are you acting as if I’m the first angel you’ve met?” she asks.
“Most angels fall because they’re already becoming like us,” Dagon says.
“They already know about the things we do here,” Cynthia says. “They know about sin, about all the debauchery humans get up to. All of it.”
“What’s weird is that you don’t,” Dagon says, scrutinising her. He looks to Cynthia, and they seem to have a conversation between themselves that uses no words. Then he holds his hands up, and steps back. “Got it, none of my business.”
Day two is over! I’m happy with my progress, even if I didn’t get as much written today as I had initially hoped. That’s life for you
Words Today: 3,191
Current Words: 3,191
Lynda looks up, eyes red, face tear-stained, and says nothing. Of course. She’s spent a lifetime being silenced, after all.
“You don’t have to be quiet,” Cynthia says. “Let it out. Scream if you need to.”
And as if a damn burst, a switch flipped, a lightbulb turned on, Lynda opens her mouth and cries. The sounds that leave her are desperate, broken, terrified. Cynthia stays for it, in case the angel’s sorrow turns self-destructive.
She’s seen it before. Hell, she’s been there.
Lynda screams like a woman who’s been holding herself back for centuries. No, not like. She is. Cynthia’s heard this before, watched and sat and comforted before, but it’s worse when she can feel Lynda’s emotions overflowing through their bond.
Day one is over! I haven’t actually annouced what I’m writing yet, but I’m working on what I would’ve written last year if my laptop hadn’t written: Far From the Tree. I’ll do a WIP re-intro post tomorrow, but basically there’s demons, an angel, and an elemental magic system that I’m making up as I go.
