Not sure why I got tagged recently, but @ellierenae knocked on my coffin lid, so here I am. The words I’m meant to find I’ll be pulling from my original WIP, Book 1 of the Zodiac Chronicles, Mystery in Tauri (title subject to change). (I’ve been overworking my chapter 1 because people were paying attention to it. I’m not used to that.)

Thank you for the tag! Let’s get started.

consume

He lingered, letting the Taurus meander slowly. Something about that familiar stranger demanded his attention. He crouched by the porch, anticipating a much longer wait, but before the large Taurus could be completely consumed by the darkness, a lantern emerged from the house. He watched the lantern moved with cold confidence down the steps and several feet away from the structure. The familiar stranger paused and dug into his bag. He removed an item, allowed it to unroll, and muttered a single command word. Hunks of serrated metal along a chain came together and stiffened into a something resembling a cane. The figure adjusted his bag and lantern and continued into the darkness, compensating for a limp with the magical item. Confusion filled the Scorpio at the item, not as familiar to him as the stranger.

(This is in one of the chapters I was banging out near the end of NaNo, so uh… quality bad.)

love

Eli smiled. “Well. Do you mind staying for dinner, Isolde? Did you tell your father you’d be late?”

Silence filled the kitchen, only broken by the sound of gently sizzling meats and boiling potatoes. Tristan furrowed his brow, startled at the sudden tension.

“I’d love to stay for dinner.” Her voice had lost a bit of her excitement, though she had plenty to spare.

The old bull hummed. Something lay beneath the surface of her statement, one that both men recognized. A silent agreement formed between them; they would not ask and she would not tell. Tristan’s curiosity piqued with tales of mundanity from the other children, but he understood the precious need for secrecy from time to time.

(I have the word ‘love’ in my WIP often because Tristan and his father say “I love you” a lot. So I chose an instance that wasn’t… that.)

together

Eli lifted his head. “I thought we had a hunter in the village.”

Isolde nodded. “Oh, uh. Yeah. But Mister Eamon said he hasn’t been able to track the creatures movements for a while now and I… I don’t know if we’d even be able to afford it.”

Tristan sighed and returned to his meal. His father’s brow furrowed. “Isolde, you should let your father worry about these sorts of things.”

Her eyes fell, her spoon tapping against the plate. “He’s… He can’t.”

Eli’s voice softened. “He can’t?”

“He’s… been ill for a while now.” The rest of the table fell quiet, the gentle scrape of metal against treated clay silenced. She continued, nervous. “The… the Doctor has been treating him almost since he arrived and… some days are better than others, naturally, but most days are bad.”

A collection of isolated events came together in Tristan’s mind. Isolde’s melancholy about his father’s blindness, her sudden desire to become leader of the community and prepare herself for being mayor, her puffy eyes that one day at school, her excitement at the prospect of opening the village’s borders. He regarded her, her hands quivering, her nose red, eyes glassy. An epiphany began to crystallize in his heart: every person led a life that he could barely imagine, haunted by just as many issues as he.

And, unfortunately, I don’t have the word obsess in my WIP, though confronted with this knowledge, I may want to use it now. There are plenty of characters that might have an obsession, or appear to be obsessed with something or someone.

I don’t know that many people to tag, but uh… lessee…

@dragon-swords-prophecies@the-finch-address@enchanted-lightning-aes@athenixrose@master-duncan@n1ghtcrwler

Your words will be linger, curve, spite, lace which I chose completely randomly from a random word generator.

You are, of course, not obligated to participate. I hope that the notification at least brings you some happiness. :3

Find the Word Tag II

Thanks for tagging me @emelkae

All of these are from somewhere in Our Forgotten Devils

1. Right

A candle holder that had caught my attention before. Upon closer inspection, I find that my initial assessment was right: it is indeed, a severed hand. Shrivelled and blackened, nailed to the wooden stand by its wrist, holding the pale candle tightly between brittle fingers. An embossed label stuck to the base identifies it as a “hand of glory”.

2. Answer

“Alex,” I say, my voice shakier than I would like, “What the fuck is going on?” I feel like it’s all I’ve asked for the last forty-eight hours, and I’m beginning to think I haven’t gotten an honest answer even once.

3. Quiet

“If you want my help, then you need to start telling me the truth. All of it.”

For a moment, Alex is silent. He swallows hard and takes a shaky breath. “Okay,” he finally says, in a voice so quiet I doubt for a second if I really hear it at all, “Okay.”

4. Alive

I felt alive when I was with him, more so than I ever had before (or, for that matter, since).

5 was supposed to be cute, but apparently, I’ve never used the word cute in my life! (Seriously, went through several wips and it is nowhere to be found, curiously enough)

Open tag! For anyone who wants to, your words are Fate, Fear, Never, Loss, and Magic

Find the Word Tag

Thank you for the tag @fiercely-raging-writer

Crash(fromOur Forgotten Devils)

I take another worried glance over my shoulder. “Can’t you go any faster?” I ask.

“Not unless you want me to crash!” Alex says sharply.

The car pulls out and speeds up until it’s driving alongside us. I try to get a look at the driver, but the windows are tinted so dark I can’t see a thing. Whoever’s driving, they turn inwards, pushing hard into the side of us.

Burn(ed)(from Our Forgotten Devils)

“You look so much like your father.”

Abruptly, Alex drops her hands as if they’ve burned him. His flinch is slight but clearly visible nonetheless.

Scent(from Our Forgotten Devils)

Beneath the pervading scents of sandalwood and frankincense lies something else, something that I can’t quite place, but it makes me wrinkle my nose in disgust all the same. I feel like I should recognise it, but it’s too faint for me to determine what it is.

FuriousFury(from a micro-wip titled Clytemnestra’s Confession)

I needed to be over there, needed to see her, hold her, needed to snatch the dagger from Agamemnon’s hands and plunge it into his chest. But Achilles held fast, stubbornly refusing to let me go. I struggled and fought in vain until all my fury drained away and I slumped forwards, sobbing. When he finally let me go, I collapsed.

Open tag!

find the word tag CCCXVIII

I want to write a new scene of dirt in the doing, and it’s playing out in my head, but then it gets all muddled and repetitive because I can’t seem to focus on sentences, so maybe I just have to recover from this week and then I can have some of my writing self back. I barely wrote when I did overnights last time either. it might just have to be this way. I’ll just have to see. @ashen-crest

draw(summon story supplemental)

“You have to do the rest of the saving,” Ghand says suddenly. He halts and turns back to face Dair, and his face is almost caring.

Dair is truly shaking now. “I don’t know how. I don’t, I don’t know what I want. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m just a thief, no-, I’m a killer! What even is there to save?”

Ghand puts a hand on his shoulder and it’s unexpected but grounding, the weight of it allowing Dair to drawbreath into his body. “I know you were forced,” he says next, another surprise.

“You know?” Dair asks, too tired to be hopeful but the sensation brimming up from his stomach anyway. “Then why-”

“Prove you want to be saved.” Ghand says it so firmly, like an order, but his eyes are not eating at Dair anymore. “This is what you can do. You are not lost. You are with us.”

Dair meets Ghand’s eyes again, and nods. “Alright.”

They walk the rest of the way in silence.

breathe(a farewell for a friend, 2020)

there are cracks along your porcelain skin, or is it mine?
sometimes I disbelieve the mirror, are you crying?
I can feel your fingertips without them touching me
I weep but for the stillness at my side: I can’t feel a heartbeat
but perhaps this exchange has made death’s fools of us both
but for a kiss, I breathe, and you with me
but for a knife, you breathe, and I love thee
I think the mirror tells us our fate
leave your regrets at the gate
anon, I hear angels

hurt(dirt in the doing)

Rune chews on the inside of her cheek, then holds out her hands. “Let’s sit you up, then.”

He accepts her help because he’s honestly not sure if his arms are in full obedience to his brain yet. She pulls him up slowly, and his vision doesn’t blur as he goes. Jet slides his legs across the street, making sure they’re working too. His fingers bend, his neck isn’t trying to anchor his head to the pavement anymore. He’s fine.

Rune is still holding onto his arms. “Good? Let’s try standing.”Jet rolls his eyes, which doesn’t feel very good. He allows Rune to bear some of his weight as they both stand up. Well. His legs do hurt. And his hip, from where it had been battling with the tarmac, and his head, from where it hit something hard at some point, probably that car. Jet can feel his muscles still trembling but they’re holding. He can stand.

“You don’t look like you can walk.”

“I could if I had to,” Jet shoots back, feelings his defenses come up. And he knows he could. He takes a few steps to test it out. The pain is muscle-deep, but familiar. He’s not injured.

“I believe you,” Rune says, sounding almost amused except that she still looks like she’s staring at his unconscious body. “But I’m here. You can lean on me.”

soft(dirt in the doing)

Yarrow moves around again, and there’s a softthump which is probably him sliding off of the couch. A heavier thump follows, accompanied by an annoyed “hey!”

Jet finally looks over his shoulder to see Yarrow smothering Shadow with either a hug or attempted murder on the floor. He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.

“No death in the garage,” Moss calls out. “Or loss of limbs or unsupervised fights.”

“You’re right there,” Yarrow protests, grunting. “Stop moving!”

“Get off of me!”

Jet looks back again to see Shadow scrabbling across the floor with little success, as Yarrow just flops onto his back, flattening them both.

“I’m not a bed,” Shadow grumbles, ceasing to fight his position.

“You’re pretty comfy,” Yarrow remarks before rolling them over so Shadow is resting on Yarrow’s chest instead.

“You’re not.” But Shadow doesn’t move away. In fact, he closes his eyes, making himself more comfortable on the pillow he was given.

escape, beyond, trap, allow. BONUS: transition,spectacle.@toboldlywrite@oh-no-another-idea@emelkae@avrablake@darlingsmoon@livvywrites@zoya-writes OR ANYBODY

—find the word [tag game]

I’ve been forcibly awakened from my Tumblr Slumber by @writing-bels they’re too amazing for me to pretend I forgot Tumblr exists any longer…

words- - - vicious, tattle, terror, chew

Vicious —- > Web of Lies

“Get in the van.” the girl said, staring at the creature with something Jim could only describe as the most vicious hatred he had ever seen. She tossed something metallic at Jim that he barely managed to catch before realizing they were car keys.

“What?” he spluttered.

“Get in the van,” she repeated this time glaring at him with such intensity, Jim nearly took a step back.

“What about you? We’re not just leaving you here!”

“I can handle myself.” The girl dropped a duffle bag he hadn’t noticed before, and held up something that looked like an odd mix between a gun and a syringe. “Now take your friend and go!”

Tattle —- > N/A

Terror (I cheated and used Terrified, sue me) —- > Sunflower Club

The scene was so surreal it was like watching life through a filter.

One of the boys winced as he saw his distorted reflection in a window; his jaw was swollen and the cut under his eye was smeared with dried blood.

The maelstrom of blue made them look more ill and terrified than they already were.

It was like a nightmare with the gleam of a dream.

No matter where they looked, the sickening glow flooded the scene, absorbing every object.

There was no escape.

Everything was silent, or so it felt.

Chew —- > The Not Quite Ordinary Tale of Dani Swann

Quite the checklist, she thought, sitting in her new kitchen, at her new table, chewing absentmindedly on a slice of the homemade piece of bread Mrs Romero had given her as she left the motel. Oh ! And buy groceries. She’d almost forgotten.

That was for sure quite a bit to do, mostly running around, but at least it would allow her to get to know the town. Finding your own grocery store, one you could become a regular at, was after all an important part of settling in a new town. At least Dani liked to think so. Life is made of a string of little habits and to create these habits she must get to know what surrounds her and seep into a cold sort of regularity. She’d meet new people, let her name and face be known and recognised by those who already had their nice little string of habits and maybe she would finally belong somewhere.

Tagging : @the-child-of-darkness;@mortallynuttyqueen;@cielnocturnes;

Words —- Smile; numb; dark; comfort

Find the Word Tag

Most of a month ago, @etjwrites tagged me–thank you, and sorry for the delay! My words to find in my WIP and share are confident, dusk, rabbit, violet! I’ll look in the WIP I’m supposed to be working on, The Cavaliers.

Confident

“Let me explain what’s really happening here,” Billy said, still with that perfect calm, and jerked his shoulder. There were a few gasps behind him as he pulled his freed arms forward, flexing his fingers. “Everyone’s being extra as hell. No one intends to shoot anyone because we all know if we get into a firefight of ten mid- and pro-classers vs. four champs and a wildcard with a fucking broadsword—top of the evening to you, Dep—then there will be significant casualties on both sides, and everyone’s thinking to themselves that the odds aren’t quite stacked enough to feel confidentin surviving such an event, and on the very first night of the very first race of the Adesso Bowl, no less.”

Dusk

“Well, it started out Thursday night and was supposed to disperse yesterday morning, but the weather was godawful and nobody really felt like going home until duskwhen it cleared up, and at that point, you might as well have dinner,” Billy admitted.

Rabbit(close enough)

Ahead, the Snowshoe HareLodge loomed. Most of the exterior was a boxy mix of dark wood and gray paneling with accents of stone here and there. Glass rimmed the symmetrical balconies on multiple levels with decorative canopies that faintly gave the view the impression of an up-close snowflake. There was no evident way in or out, but hey, it looked nice.

Violet(close enough)

The track for the first race of the Adesso Bowl was called the Rail. It started out in the gridded, empty streets of an urban facsimile, blank skyscrapers in identical shapes but different glossy shades like they were coated in oil. Purple, green, yellow against the dark grays. Here at daybreak, artificial sunlight slid down across everything.

It ended up being mostly about Billy for some reason!

Tagging, if you’d like: @incandescent-creativity,@knmartinshouldbewriting, and anyone else who’d like to search their stories for these words in any form!

Words to find: free, real, dark, empty