#wardsoftheseas
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NANO 2021 ;
« the garden of earthly delights »
genre → adult dark fantasy thriller
pov → first person present tense
themes → vengeance as justice, the evolving definition of the self, becoming the monster, the relative viscosity of blood and water
extras → arospec and acespec protagonists, villain protagonists, soft... romance? infatuation?, morality is for losers, deadpan humor, revenge is hollow but so is everything else
warnings → death ; graphic depictions of violence ; graphic depictions of substance abuse ; some sexual content ; mentions of: csa, parental neglect, emotional abuse, abandonment ; to be updated
Renard de Constans wants many people dead.
There are guilds for everything in the city of Grisencourt. If one needs furniture, they go to the Carpenters – horseshoes, the Farriers – light, the Chandlers.
If one needs to fill a grave, they go to the Spicers.
Ophélie was born into the Spicers Guild. She sees the sideways looks she's given when she peddles her cheap cures, her potions, her sugar-water placebos for those discontent with their place in life. She hides her discomfort with a smile and cuts her sugar with sweet lead.
The Spicers' mysterious Company of Decadents has an ear pressed to every wall and a claw sunk deep into every jugular in the city. With entry into the Company restricted half by inheritance and half by recommendation, no one who wants to know about it will ever see past its darkened doors.
While some have made their fortunes from filthy work, many Spicers Decadent in the city walls lead ascetic or impoverished lives. Death is not a grand sport nor a thing of great beauty.
But – when a stranger shows up at Ophie's door asking after her long-dead father, on guild business – it can be.
Everett chokes back fury. “She refuses to name a successor,” he says instead, calmer. More level.
Sevestre laughs. “Which of us shall it be, Ève?”
“I wouldn’t duel you for the honor.”
In the midst of a royal succession crisis, a nameless patron funds deaths and disappearances in the court. Lords go missing only to show up weeks later as gold signet rings in the corner of a pigsty. Prevosts drown in the lakes in the black of night.
The Spicer Decadent is caught – only once, but it only takes once – by the man who should be crown prince.
He helps her wash the blood from her hands.
Ophie finds herself in an uncomfortable spot: Her innocence is irrevocably tangled up with Everett's goodwill. And so she draws him in, making him a willing accomplice to her work.
The two of them make a temptation of death while playing at innocence. And, between the useless deviant persona Everett plays to the court and the timidity Ophie wears even as she tips mild poison into a cup, they can be nothing but innocent. Suspicions for the deaths turn to the grandmotherly Princess of Clarin, to the queen's brother Duke Sevestre, to Prince Consort Andrie of Corant – they have always been poisoners, those Coranti –
“Who died and made you lord of anything?”
“I think one of the last few was a distant uncle.”
And then the final letter comes.
{{ GENERAL TAGLIST
@metanoiamorii @glitterandstarshine @crookedwritings @seasteading @avi-why @hekat-ie @localdeadlylaser @jadeywrites @aubergineanathema @quadraphonictypewriter @kudzupocalypse @lascalaveras @cheshawrites @eloquenceandemphasis @asablehart @arctic-stars @worldbuildng @dovebeast
THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS TAGLIST
@hottubraccoon @florraisons @muddshadow }}
#wip intro#my writing#wip introduction#my wips#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas#wip: the garden of earthly delights#nano wip#hey what up it's ya boi#murder#death cw#violence cw#the warnings at the top apply to the work itself btw not just this post#it's gonna be fucked#i can't wait
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gang wip introduction - april camp nano 2021;
“What if we married?” she asked, a sharp, cunning smile upon her otherwise soft features. “Unite our gangs, strengthen our forces. We could even use such an alliance to take down the Bonellis once and for all.”
genre; alternative historical fiction
audience; young/new adult
tropes; enemies/rivals to lovers, gang rivalries, trio of best friends and their shenanigans, victorian era/slight steampunk world building, fighting the patriarchy, secret identities, marriage of convenience
warnings; violence, kidnapping, dark themes
status; first draft
links; accountability thread (x) | main tag (x) | excerpts (x)
psd credit; @cavalierfou
synopsis;
Juliette Edevane never expected to enter a marriage with one of her most formidable rivals. Armed with such an alliance, she must navigate the dangerous waters to take down her greatest foe, while keeping her true identity- and her true feelings- hidden.
characters;
juliette edevane. she/her. the jinx.
misty lygon. she/her. the jinx.
lun qi. he/him, they/them. the jinx.
isaac farley. he/him. the bronze vipers.
ruth granville. she/her. the bonellis.
tagging a few mutuals; @sprigofbasil @charles-joseph-writes @sourrcandy @serpentarii @tarttisms @ikilledmyocs @atelierwriting @moariin @heartwarning @wordsbynathan @endymions @cheshawrites
any boosting is well appreciated! <3
#IM SO EXCITED TO FINALLY BE RELEASING THIS TO TUMBLR WAH#wtwcommunity#sunsetdistrict&starfallisland#soleirnaviary#unsuperhumans#wardsoftheseas#writing community#writeblr#wip intro#wip introduction#wip#introduction#psd#gang wip
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SAINTLESS –– a wip introduction
❝ there were sinners, and then there were the de la Cruz. ❞
GENRES ; high fantasy, lgbtq+
DEMOGRAPHIC ; adult (na)
THEMES & TROPES ; familial curses, cities in the sky, vaguely steampunk, found family, magical realism, finding forgiveness, forgiving yourself, redemption, eldritch angels, gothic & catholic aesthetics
NARRATION/POV ; 3rd, multi pov
STATUS ; drafting
SYNOPSIS ;
Adelina Castillo de la Cruz is one of the infamous de la Cruz’s who live within the floating sky-city of Ascension. The family is cursed with mysterious afflictions the likes of which no doctor or priest can cure nor banish, and it’s said even one encounter with them can pass it to the unlucky bystander. To avoid trouble, Adelina hides behind her father’s surname and hides her affliction in layers of clothes.
But then her uncle goes missing the same night the Rot –– a mysterious entity that’s been slowly consuming other sky-cities –– first makes its presence known in Ascension. With her city and family in a panic, Adelina goes on a quest to discover the reason behind his disappearance and how it relates to the Rot. Joining her are her cousin, Emilio; Carlos, an orphan boy with mysterious ties to her family; and Salvador, an angel questioning his own faith. Plagued by their own curses and with time running out, what they will discover about themselves and their world may just be Ascension’s undoing.
CHARACTERS ;
☞ Adelina Castillo de la Cruz ; 25, with no life plan or goal. likes learning for the sake of learning and hates being asked what she’s doing with her life. hides from her responsibilities by going on adventures around the city. her curse makes her appearance difficult to remember and fuzzy, like looking at something from the corner of your eye.
☞ Emilio de la Cruz Sanchez ; 18, Adelina’s cousin and an avid scholar. avoids all forms of confrontation and decision-making. suffers from a curse which causes him to have a limited amount of words he can speak per day.
☞ Carlos Aguilar ; 18, orphaned at a young age with no clue who his parents are except for his name. currently lives at one of the smaller parishes in Ascension as ward and trainee to Padre. suffers from a curse which causes him to get lost often or to lose things. do not trust with a map.
☞ Salvador ; 1000s, one of the angels designated as a watcher to oversee the humans in Ascension. has a fondness for books, coffeeshops, and is allergic to sleep. if given the choice, he’d rather stay home. suffers from an unknown affliction.
#wtwcommunity#wip intro#wearywnet#beyondstars#endysgarden#wardsoftheseas#unsuperhumans#sautrnsfam#emsfam#*mine#sasha writes#n: saintless#for nano!!!
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THE ROUNDABOUT “CINEMATIC” UNIVERSE
a powerpoint intro
genres: ya contemporary
status: outlining
if i’m @atelierwriting‘s enabler, she’s the one who bullies me into getting things done. also stream bloom bloom 💖
send me an ask to be added to the tag list, dm me to be removed.
general taglist + some mutuals: @mahalii @acrimoneous @breadcrumbs @ikilledmyocs @sourrcandy @sondials @moariin @sprigofbasil @endymions @godswar @nikolae @priyaele @adaparkwrites
#wip intro#writeblr community#writers on tumblr#wtwcommunity#thewriteblrhive#crabappletracking#sunsetdistrict&starfallisland#thesun&themoon#unsuperhumans#projectsquareup#beyondstars#ashenfens#wardsoftheseas#lia.writes#wip.rcu
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WTW PLANET PROMPTS - DAY 1 // MECURY: LOCATIONS
welcome to the kingdom of elysia , the larger kingdom on the planet of kielya.
The Kingdom of Elysia was formed as a result of many towns and farms uniting under a single banner — the Orleauxes’ — and was named after the root word “elysian”, which means “relating to or characteristic of heaven or paradise”. The Kingdom aimed to provide a safe haven for all who were loyal, and has held to this promise — or, well, and idea of it, at least — for the past few centuries. Along with the technological advances of the Kingdom as well as that of other dimensions, it has evolved into a place of worship and science, old and new, all melded together into one piece of intricate clockwork.
elysia, as described by the current princess and crown prince.
Interviewer: So, Your Highnesses, what is your opinion on this Kingdom?
Andre: Well, I definitely love the Delphinus Range. Beautiful mountains, excellent for skiing. I don’t suppose you’ve tried it? One must go during the Salidon Moon, the snow is perfect. Oh, and Mirsage Harbour is absolutely breathtaking, the sea view is just nice, and the ships! So many of them, I must say—
Verena: —yes, Andre, lovely ships. Now, for me, I just enjoy the thought of the Forests. They’re just so calming in a way? Not to mention the draw I have towards forests in general, all those trees... Oh, and the Talin Islands. Beautiful and untouched, literal paradise! We’re going to see if we can open one up to the public.
— retrieved from recording of an interview with the Orleauxes.
elysia, as described in the official texts
The Kingdom of Elysia ( also referred to as Elysia ) is the oldest in the dimension. It is split across two landmasses, Solias and Helisan. The Delphinus Range in Helisan is a popular tourist destination for those seeking colder weather, and the three of the four Forests of the Fae can be found in Elysia. Helisan is mostly unpopulated, save for Mirsage Harbour and the tip of the continent where a bridge connects it to the rest of Elysia. Average travel time by car in the capital is relatively quick, with smooth traffic operations.
&. behold elysia, kingdom of paradise, where anything and everything is possible.
↫↬
taglist under cut, message to be added/removed
@wildswrites @writing-in-rain @detectivesprince @akindofmagictoo
#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#wtwevent#wtwcommunity#ofcolourtracking#sleepyfam#crabappletracking#elysian falls#the kingdom of elysia#verena orleaux#andre orleaux#awritingcat#rcvolutionary#wardsoftheseas
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for @yourocsbackstory’s august event!
Week 4: Protagonist
-
Victoriette.
A name without a face. A name scrawled in the corner of an old notebook. An arrow pointed to it, labeling it “daughter”.
Victoriette.
He stumbled upon it when he was supposed to be sleeping, not sneaking into his father’s office. Some light curiosity and he discovered his half-sister, born just days after him, was under the care of Eris Lovett. The Vampire Queen.
How dare they taint his sister so! She was, by right, an Allegiance child. A child born with fire in their bloods, and a blade at the fingertips. The lies they could’ve filled her head with.
Just beasts with no morality.
Who was she, though? She could have ran away. She could be fighting against the thrall of the evil in her captors. Yes, that’s the way of an Allegiance child.
She may be some insignificant girl born from his father’s infidelity, but she was trapped.
And Charles doesn’t like it when his family is trapped.
-
tag list (ask to be +/-): @linariouswrites @maleficmalachai @par-oo @cream-and-tea @ravens-and-rivers @chroniczombiegf @antique-symbolism-main
#wip: blood is thicker#ch: charles beaumont#yourocsbackstory#sorry this is so late in the week ive been dealing with stuuuuf#wardsoftheseas
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BEARSKIN → excerpts from draft 2, chapter 1
ᴡɪɴᴛᴇʀ
Dusk was the best time to hunt. As the night opened its gaping maw and began to devour the sun, Irina helped her village prepare for winter.
ʜᴜɴᴛ
Liev drew a boiled leather flask from inside his jacket. He took a deep draught before leveling a serious gaze at his son. “Your sister is going to teach you how to hunt.”
Irina jolted back towards the edge of the platform. “I am not—I can’t!”
ᴏʙᴇʏ
“Obey your sister,” Liev ordered Fedya, “as you would obey me.”
“Yes, Father.” Fedya sighed, but said nothing more.
ᴡɪʟᴅ
Her brother stared out at the forest below. His jaw was starting to harden where he ground his teeth in his stubbornness. He looked more like Liev every year as he grew broad and thick as the rest of the village boys. At only sixteen, he was nearly as tall as the door to their family’s little home. There was something different between them, though. Something to his face that was so southern, so wild and green like his mother with her tinctures and her plant-spells, her stained black lips and her one far-seeing crystal eye.
“There’s another predator,” he said softly.
taglist → general
@metanoiamorii @glitterandstarshine @crookedwritings @basilelestrange @avi-why @hekat-ie @localdeadlylaser @jadeywrites @piyawrites @aubergineanathema @quadraphonictypewriter @kudzupocalypse @lasbrumas @cheshawrites @eloquenceandemphasis @asablehart @arctic-stars @worldbuildng
taglist → bearskin
@veneritia @alternativeforensicscientist @starsfallings @quilloftheclouds @youareshauni @writingbyjillian @soul-write @josephinegerardywriter @write-the-stars-and-shadows @ladywithalamp @endymions @romantic-antics @yuriykovtun @llesbianwrites @limpid-liar @magic-is-something-we-create @peepos-prose @maskedlady @berinswriting @jaimistoryteller @pen-of-roses
#my writing#wip: bearskin#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas#insert more fam tags here#uhhhhh i don't have words#for how excited i am#to share draft 2 content#mainly because before bearskin#writing felt kind of out of reach#and now this wip has really made me fall in love w my craft#in a different kind of way than before
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JACKDAW — an introduction
→ surreal adult fantasy
→ second person present tense
→ read it on Wattpad
—you wake up in a muddy riverbank.
Jackdaw has fallen from grace. That is the first thing they discover when they open borrowed eyes in the discarded land of Lorne. They cannot call on the infinite power that once rested at their fingertips. They cannot shape the world around them to their will.
But everyone else can. The townsfolk of Lorne are magic made flesh, with the power to rot and heal, to cure and kill. Jackdaw should be hailed as a god among them. Instead they're an outsider, learning the rules of a new world like a child first learning to walk.
They have to find a way back home—into their own skin—before they die in this strange place.
her smile is calm, the beat of a heart in an open chest. “i’m beth.”
Everyone dies. That is the first and only truth of the world, as far as Beth Hedley is concerned. She walks through the forest and leaves a trail of rot behind. The basket she carries is full of the crows and ravens that watch from the treetops.
She is the only one in Lorne who walks through the forest. The hounds come from the trees on the full moon to hunt; Beth visits the deepest parts of the wood then, when they are empty, and feeds the many mouths within. She comes back in an echo of violence—but she always comes back.
Until she doesn't, any more. Until the only remnant of her is a hood red with blood.
Beth Hedley is not the wolf in the forest, but she might be its victim if Jackdaw can't save her.
a crow hops to her shoulder, and she need only turn her face for it to whisper in that soft croaking voice, “they’re home.”
There were not always blackbirds in Lorne. But when Unkindness came crashing to the earth in a starfall three centuries ago, she brought with her the ravens that act as her eyes, and she sent them out into the world to search for the other two.
A century ago, she found the Crow Man, lingering in the darkness under a bridge and whispering riddles to himself. He brought with him the beady-eyed crows that perch in the tens and hundreds and sing taunts as townsfolk pass.
New birds are flying forth from the steeple of a church—so long abandoned that no one knows its god. Unkindness, in her tower of mirrors, turns blind eyes to the heavens and dares to smile at the sun that cast her down so long ago.
Jackdaw is home.
general taglist
@metanoiamorii @glitterandstarshine @crookedwritings @basilelestrange @avi-why @hekat-ie @localdeadlylaser @jadeywrites @aubergineanathema @quadraphonictypewriter @kudzupocalypse @lascalaveras @cheshawrites @eloquenceandemphasis @asablehart @arctic-stars @worldbuildng
jackdaw taglist
@hottubraccoon @thelittlestspider
#wip intro#my writing#death cw#violence cw#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas#wip: jackdaw#i love them all so much#if u have questions about any of jackdaw let me know#esp unkindness and the crow man#i love them#an inordinate amount#wip introduction#writeblr#my wips
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BEARSKIN DRAFT COMPARISONS
chapter one, ‘dusk’
it's been a while since I posted anything of substance, so I thought I'd give y'all this! a quick look at the opening paragraphs of Bearskin, and how they've changed between draft 1 and draft 2:
→ draft 1
Dusk was the best time to hunt. As the night opened its gaping maw and began to devour the sun, Irina prepared for winter.
She learned survival from the animals. That was her father’s first lesson, raising her in the village on the edge of the snow. Squirrels buried their food in soil warm enough to turn over. Birds found hot, dry lands to the north where they could rest their heads. Sharp-toothed cats padded along on silent feet, stalking unwary prey over open snow. And bears—the great brown and black bears with claws longer than her hands, shuffling broad-shouldered through the shadows between ancient evergreens, pine sap sticky on their fur—hunted heavy through the moons leading up to the cold and ate themselves into a deep slumber.
→ draft 2
Dusk was the best time to hunt. As the night opened its gaping maw and began to devour the sun, Irina helped her village prepare for winter. She crouched in an old hunting platform, high up in the trees of the deep wood, and etched another tally-mark into the grain with her knife.
Far below her, animals followed suit. Squirrels buried their food in soil that was still warm enough to turn over. Birds took flight from the boughs of the deep wood and flew north in pursuit of hot, dry lands where they could rest for the long winter. Sharp-toothed cats padded along on silent feet, stalking unwary prey through the twisted, knotted roots of the forest.
Somewhere in the wood, bears—the great brown and black bears with claws longer than her hands, shuffling broad-shouldered through the shadows between ancient evergreens, pine sap sticky on their fur—hunted heavy. There was a moon left still until the sun sank below the horizon for the last time. They would eat themselves into a deep slumber.
general taglist:
@metanoiamorii @glitterandstarshine @crookedwritings @seasteading @avi-why @hekat-ie @localdeadlylaser @jadeywrites @aubergineanathema @quadraphonictypewriter @kudzupocalypse @lasbrumas @cheshawrites @eloquenceandemphasis @asablehart @arctic-stars @worldbuildng @dovebeast @uppoffringar
bearskin taglist:
@veneritia @alternativeforensicscientist @starsfallings @quilloftheclouds @youareshauni @writingbyjillian @soul-write @josephinegerardywriter @write-the-stars-and-shadows @ladywithalamp @wavemakermommy @romantic-antics @serpentarii @llesbianwrites @limpid-liar @magic-is-something-we-create @peepos-prose @maskedlady @berinswriting @jaimistoryteller @pen-of-roses @snowinks @yuriperhaps
ask to be added or removed // or remind me if I missed you or if you've changed your url!! sometimes I don't update my taglists for months and then I forget who wants to be added. oops.
#my writing#wip: bearskin#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas#insert all other fam tags here#i am slowly recovering from being sick still#but anyway !#bearskin content !
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WTW PREPTOBER ; protagonist or antagonist
« the garden of earthly delights »
“You,” the man says, “must be Ophie.”
→ ophélie lourens de constans
→ twenty-three ; she/her ; born in the now-dissolved land of corant
→ currently living in argent's queen-city
→ only child of coranti poisoner bartolom lourens, dead fifteen years for his crimes
There are only so many lies I can tell. Most of them are wasted on small things: I am not lonely. I am not alone. I am not scared of death, that great gray specter looming ahead of my every step.
→ selectively mute after witnessing her father's brutal murder
→ rarely smiles, seeking to appear as neutral as possible
→ flinches away from magic, the thing that killed her father in the end
“Why is it,” I ask, “that they only ever seem to see you and not me?”
“Because,” he answers easily, “you don’t want to be seen.”
→ frugal with her small income, preparing for an uncertain future
→ perhaps she truly wants nothing more than what she has
If Father could see me now, I would tell him: I am grown older, and I am grown deadly. I am no longer the little girl you raised; I cannot even speak her language.
→ or perhaps, like any wronged soul, she grips the blade tight behind her back and waits her turn for vengeance
“Ophélie,” I respond with a sardonic low curtsy. “My lord.”
general taglist —
@metanoiamorii @glitterandstarshine @crookedwritings @basilelestrange @avi-why @hekat-ie @localdeadlylaser @jadeywrites @aubergineanathema @quadraphonictypewriter @kudzupocalypse @lascalaveras @cheshawrites @eloquenceandemphasis @asablehart @arctic-stars @worldbuildng
the garden of earthly delights taglist —
@florraisons
ask to be added or removed!
#wtwevent#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas#wip: the garden of earthly delights#oc: ophie#i have another one for everett that i'm going to queue for tomorrow#so keep an eye out for best boy softest boy most alcoholic boy#murder cw#violence cw#my writing#my wips#my ocs
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BENEATH THE SHALLOW WATER ; first look
“Rissho,” the goddess asked of her guard, “why do we never walk in the lower city?”
IERANAI is the earthly incarnation of the goddess Ieraa. Cared for in the temple her entire life, what can she do when her world falls apart?
RISSHO is a temple guardswoman with a cool temper. The closest thing Ieranai has to a friend, she’s the one to reach out to help when the city starts to burn.
THE BOATMAN is outside help. He’s relaxing in the lower docks of the stilt city of Duerne when Rissho’s call reaches him; and what can he do, he wonders, for a goddess he doesn’t believe in?
TAIRA is the oldest priestess of the boatman’s gods – a thousand-year-old black caiman, she guides her many-times-great-grandson as he attempts to help this new goddess find herself in the swamp.
“What kind of god,” she asked hesitantly, “does a boatman revere?”
Beneath the Shallow Water is going to be (rather casually) my project for Camp NaNo this year. It’s a high fantasy set in the depths of a subtropical swamp full of stilt cities and false islands, where the dangers the heroes face start as small as mosquitoes and sawgrass and scale up to an enemy invasion and waking ancient, sleeping gods.
I’ve been looking forward to writing something in this setting for years – so this year I’d like to invite you all to explore the Shifting River and its ever-changing islands with me, as we delve into a story of identity and finding your true self underneath everything you were told you should be.
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BEARSKIN – excerpt 10-1 ; ‘something i can give’
Transcript & more below the cut //
“Are you not deserving of my pride?” His hand curled around her cheek, cold as sea ice, and he turned her face until she had no choice but to meet his eyes. He didn’t blink enough; it felt like he was sifting through her every thought, and she was drowning in a pool of blood. “My admiration, too?” he asked, his grin tipped down into a playful smile. His thumb brushed over her lips and pressed her snarl smooth.
Irina swallowed the discomfort that rose in her throat. “I don’t want that, either.” Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? She couldn’t do anything without him appearing at her shoulder, watching, making some comment or other on her thoughts and plans. She was trapped, with no way out, and he was taking full advantage of that fact.
He wouldn’t tell her what the tasks would be. She’d tried asking him, once or twice, but he had flickered into shadow and disappeared without an answer.
“No?” He took another step closer to her, and she dropped her hand from Kseniya’s shoulder to take a step back, to match. Too late she realized that was his intention entirely. One more step and then her shoulders were pressed up against the wall, her linen shirt snagging on the stone, and she prayed no more damage would be done to it. The prince fit his forearm under her chin, holding her against the wall by the throat, his smile gone entirely now.
“What, then?” he asked. He tilted her face up with his other hand and turned it side to side as if to examine her. “Would you rather have my scorn? My derision?”
It was a fight to draw breath. Irina held onto the inhale for as long as she could. She shut her eyes and focused on the face of the hour-dial in her mind. It was something familiar. Something she had seen every day since she was small. She could name all the numbers, measure the distance between them, hear the chime of the bell as well as she remembered her father’s voice.
“No,” he said again, this time softer, lowering his arm. She sighed out the breath she was holding and raised a hand to touch her throat, cold as death under her fingers. “Not that, either. What, then?”
“My freedom,” Irina said. Her voice shook too much. Her stomach twisted, and she stayed against the wall. She’d rather have safety at her back than the chance that he could move somewhere she couldn’t see him. “My brother.”
A soft frown curled over his face. He shook his head and took half a step back, leaving enough room for Irina to breathe but not enough for her to escape his grasp. “Ask me for something I can give.”
#my writing#original fiction#wip: bearskin#original content#wtwcommunity#soleirnaviary#wardsoftheseas
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A DARKER DAWN – A WIP Intro
genre → low small-town fantasy, portal fantasy
market → new adult (18-25)
pov → third / past / multiple
status → rewrite (1st draft completed december 2018)
extra → not-so-friendly rivalries / curses, oaths, and an inheritance of spilled blood / contentious family relationships / faery americana / puns on the part of the author / extremely queer cast
content warnings → kidnapping / manipulation / body horror / violence / to be updated
synopsis →
The sun has stopped rising in Gramarye. The thick fog that has rolled over the town swallows the sky, the buildings – and now the people. Five residents have gone missing in the last week alone, spirited off to who-knows-where.
No one dares say the word Faeryland.
Zelda’s best friend is the sixth to disappear. With nowhere else to turn to, she enlists the help of a local witch, a Seer, and a newcomer in town to hunt him back down in a journey that sends them barreling through a Door – into the treacherous land of the faer folk, where nothing is innocent and anything could be deadly.
Including her friends.
Including herself.
She has to save Scott before it’s too late, or else none of them may return.
characters →
Zelda Fairchild → 19 / half-faer / disaster bi / she/they
Raised by a faery and a lawyer, she’s always known that she existed in a strange middle ground between human and despised. She’s a little too angry to finesse any of the social intricacies of Faeryland or the Wethers family, her old money grandparents who want nothing more than to see her turn out normal. Her only real friend is Scott – and when he goes missing, she has to call on an old rivalry to help her bring him back.
Caidred Shiach → unknown / Seelie faer / unknown / he/they
A newcomer in Gramarye, he’s not entirely familiar with the way that its residents view faer folk – or Others, as they’re called in the sleepy little town. He does his best to avoid the human residents, seeking out only those he needs in order to fulfill his quest: Find the girl that the Vulture Queen is looking for, and bring her back to the Seelie Ball before she can be spirited away to further the plans of the Unseelie Wake.
Scott Ayers → 19 / human / gay ace / he/him
He’s never believed in the Others. They’re nothing but scary stories to make kids behave, and to make sure that no one stays out partying too late when they’re in high school. Maybe that’s why Scott is the first person to trust a newcomer – and maybe that’s why he’s the sixth person to disappear into the fog, leaving nothing behind but a puddle of liquid shadow in his bedsheets. He’s been blissfully ignorant for years, but this will be his rude awakening.
Jupiter Grey → 21 / human witch / questioning / she/her
Maybe she doesn’t have anything better to do while she’s pursuing her magical education with her mother as a teacher. Maybe she’s bored. So when Zelda Fairchild – that Zelda Fairchild, the one she beat in every track and field competition in high school, who still holds that old grudge – comes to the Grey House with a question about Faeryland, Jupiter is more than happy to indulge her. Besides, she could stand to get out of the house more.
Devon Ramsay → 24 / human Seer / agender bi / ve/vis/ver
When Jupiter comes calling, Ramsay is the first one to turn off vis phone. When she shows up on vis doorstep, ve groans and agrees to whatever messed-up scheme she’s dragging ver into this time: Ve’s never been able to say ‘no’ to her. Still, with every step into Faeryland, ve’s reminded of a dark memory that has yet to become a reality – a vision of vis own death that’s scarily near to becoming true.
Tristan Fairchild → The Kite Prince, turned small-town florist.
Nereise → The Vulture Queen of the Unseelie Wake.
Ceryn → The Grave Queen of the Seelie Ball.
Jovian Grey → Jupiter’s brother – or is he?
Rivence → Blessed Child; a pet in the Seelie Ball.
Karma Wethers → A purely human lawyer and old-money heiress.
Elena Grey → A Grisetti witch who keeps watch over Gramarye.
Aurel Grey → A self-taught witch who develops new spells.
Lyoth the Reveler → A faer friend in troubled times.
Mother Superior → A guardian of the Door in Gramarye.
links → [all under construction]
WIP Page / Spotify Playlist / WIP Tag
#wip intro#my writing#wip: a darker dawn#wtwcommunity#wardsoftheseas#i forgot to tag this when i posted it#i blame the fact that i am very tired#but also#i love this wip
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WIP Reintroduction: Unchosen
free yourself from desires
hear the call to mystery
if you want to be the hero
temptations come in threes
the call ••• damion suomi & the minor prophets
The Chosen is dead.
No one can know.
GENRE → high fantasy / sword and sorcery
MARKET → adult / standalone
POV → third / past / multiple
DRAFT → 1st draft completed
EXTRA → identical twin trickery / not the chosen one / forming an identity / moral crises all the time / chronic pain both physical and emotional / dissociative anxious protagonist / aspec protagonists / bisexual protagonist
CONTENT WARNINGS → death / dissociation / gore / violence / to be updated
SYNOPSIS →
When Estel Whitebone was born, she was hailed as the Chosen, the one destined to deliver Journsea from its dark fate. When her sister Maris was born just minutes later, she was the younger twin.
Now, at twenty-three, Estel is dead.
But there’s no time to mourn her when the magical border is starting to fail: Evil fey are slipping once more through the mountains, bringing with them new and greater horrors than Journsea has ever faced. Wholly unprepared to be a hero, Maris must trade her lockpicks and weighted dice for her sister’s cape and armor and play at being a knight for the sake of her home. She doesn’t think she can take Estel’s place, but with a fey prince and a royal alchemist at her back, Journsea just might have a chance.
She has to try.
And no one can know the truth.
CHARACTERS →
Maris Whitebone → 23 / asexual / anxious / fey-touched
The younger daughter of the Seer, Lord Merion Whitebone, she inherited some of her father’s gift of Sight and uses it for nothing good. While Estel studied the blade, Maris was raised by thieves and rats in the streets of Imarven; as long as she was home before sunrise, no one raised a fuss about it. That is, until Estel dies and she has to wear the Chosen’s face like a mask. How long can she maintain this disguise without losing herself in it?
Cadeyrn Glynnon → 25 / demisexual / disgraced / fey
The second son of the disappeared queen of Glen Henfil, he fell head-over-heels four years ago for a woman who nearly killed him, and he left his sisters to travel at Estel’s side. Now a knight proper of Journsea, he guards the Chosen and assists her in bringing criminals to justice and evil fey to heel. Or he used to—now he’s in shock and alone, left staring up at the stars that were supposed to guarantee Estel’s life.
Rhys Apllyn → 28 / bisexual / polymath / human
Sixteen years ago, he watched in stunned silence as the Green Death killed one in three people in the port of Treffion. Now, he’s determined not to let anything like that happen again. Having studied half his life in Mallea, in Oum, in the Hundred Sovereigns, Rhys has picked up more than his fair share of skills and knowledge, in addition to a useful network of contacts. But can anything he knows be enough to circumvent certain doom?
Estel Whitebone → 23 / Chosen / deceased / fey-touched
The Whitebone family’s favorite daughter, she learned from an early age that so long as she trained, she would have anything she could possibly ask for. When she was called to serve in Castle Brenwaith six years ago, she found that the same held true there. As long as she serves her purpose, she’ll want for nothing. Except maybe a long life and a death of old age.
Venathe Hestarian → unknown / fey
Four hundred years ago, when the Gard first rose around Journsea, it was the fey lord Hestarian who sacrificed his life that his people may live beyond it in the cruel wastes of the north. Since then, each ruler of Hestarian’s Fall has taken his name and his position as general—but Venathe is the first who plans to take full advantage of the Fall’s capabilities. With informants close to the queen and a small army at her back, she knows one thing: If she can get into the castle, Journsea is hers.
Rhonwen fr. Dein → The High Queen Brenwaith of Journsea.
Branach mab Dein → The Crown Prince Brenwaith.
Merion Whitebone → The Seer, Lord of Fel Imarven.
Acanthe d’Ilorie → Botanist and authoress, Lady of Fel Imarven.
Gennan Banes → A gardener and a very bad influence.
Taniseh Mardayet → A librarian and a ‘former’ Oumite spy.
Gruffudd Half-hand → A wyrmslayer of recent legend.
Tarian fr. Emor → The vanished fey queen of Glen Henfil.
Cadfanwy fr. Tarian → The ruling princess of Glen Henfil.
Cadwen fr. Tarian → The Master of the Hunt.
Koryn the Spider → A fey lord, patron of thieves.
EXCERPT →
Maris Whitebone was supposed to be dead.
She hadn’t said her own name in so long. She stared at her reflection in the dull blade of her knife, turning it this way and that until the light caught her eyes.
She looked so much like Estel now. She had the same red bruising around her eyes from lack of sleep. The same scars pulling at her cheek and lip where sharp nails had sliced at her. Her scalp was still scorched on the left, her hair cut short, her right cheek broken where she had fallen against the rocks. She rubbed the back of her hand into her jaw and felt the swelling underneath it, her flesh soft and tender while the poison slowly wore off.
Her sister’s face had become so much easier to wear. Her sister’s voice, low and emotional, felt more natural than her own, soft and careful and even. When she pulled her shoulders back to bump against the tree she leaned against, when she dug her fingers into the earth and came away with black soil under ragged fingernails, when she glanced to the side and caught a glimpse of burst red veins in her eyes—that was Estel. Not her.
It all belonged to Estel.
LINKS → [some pages under construction]
WIP Page / Spotify Playlist / Pinterest Board / WIP Tag
OC Tags: Maris / Rhys / Cadeyrn / Estel / Venathe
#my writing#wip masterpost#wip intro#wip: unchosen#death cw#death tw#death mention#in honor of#actually finishing the first draft!#and being eager to move onto the second#i'll probably continue to post some content about it but it'll be more#moodboards and stuff moving forward#less excerpts#bonus memes i reblog to my oc tags#wtwcommunity#wardsoftheseas
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BEARSKIN – excerpt 9 ; ‘so many stories’
Transcript & more below the cut //
The prince pulled a trio of hollow gemstones from the bowl in front of him, each one of them clear but reflecting red, and slid one over his needle. When he returned his attention to his sleeve, the stone fit into place as if it had always been there; Irina couldn’t make out the stitch he used to keep it flush to the dark fabric. It was as if his thread changed color to suit his needs, even as it ran plain and white to a spool on the tabletop.
Finally, she couldn’t hold her curiosity back. “Is it not nice enough already?”
“It’s only half done,” he answered. “I always finish the left side first.” He shrugged his arm back into the sleeve and lifted it from the table, turning it so that Irina could see the lines he had been working on before. They were so thin as to be visible only when they caught the light, each one running in a careful straight line between two stones and never intersecting. Nearer to the hem of the sleeve the design was more complete; he must have started working from the outside inward. A handful of complete shapes were already evident, a few slanted rectangles and one made up of six connected stones that was near-round.
Irina’s eyebrows drew together in a frown. She couldn’t place where she knew those shapes from. “Always?”
He nodded, his smile thin and bleak. “Every year. I’m afraid my mother, ah…dislikes my handiwork,” he said with a laugh sharp as his needle. He laid the sleeve flat across the table again and went back to work stitching his straight lines. “She casts the stars from the sky, and I am the one who must sew them back in place. Every year,” the prince muttered.
Irina paused, fish falling off her fork. “The stars?”
“Yes. The constellations. I don’t know what their new names are,” he sighed, “but I’ve done this for—six hundred years? Or is it seven, now?” The prince looked up from his coat. Deep bruises pooled under his eyes. “You do know the stars make constellations, don’t you?”
“Of course I know.” Irina bristled at the accusation that she wouldn’t. She was a hunter; she had been raised watching the sky. She shook her head. “I just thought…”
How had she not recognized the six bright stars of the Beacon? It was one of the first constellations her father had taught her, pointing it out where it sat on the horizon in the summer months. So long as she knew where it was, he said, she would always be able to find her way home.
“You didn’t think it would be so menial a task?”
She didn’t want to say that. She had made her mother angry enough in the past when she called carding and spinning useless. Irina set her fork down and glanced at Kseniya, still as statuary in the chair next to her. She begged any kind god to bring the other woman back to this conversation and give her the right thing to say.
When no such thing happened, Irina asked carefully, “Do you make it the same every year?”
“To the stitch.” The prince bowed his head in a nod. He sewed another stone in place, again too quick for Irina’s eyes to follow.
“You’ve never done it differently.”
He arched an eyebrow and asked, “Why should I?”
“Isn’t it…” Irina weighed her words and decided on one that he had used earlier. “Boring?”
The prince mumbled something she couldn’t catch from the far end of the table. His hands shook this time when he pulled his needle through the fabric, and he hissed curses under his breath.
He stuck the blunt end of his needle in his mouth and picked apart his last few stitches with sharp fingernails. “Of course it’s boring. Everything is,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why do you think there are so many stories about me?”
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BEARSKIN: A WIP Intro
genre || YA high fantasy
pov || third / past
status || drafting
themes, etc. || a fairytale for the angry ; slowburn with a dash of yearning ; mayfly-december romance ; sibling rivalry ; family bonding through crisis
“I demand,” she choked out through gritted teeth, “that you return my brother to me in his proper form.”
Irina would give her heart and soul to hunt a snow bear. The massive, ancient beings live only on the farthest reaches of the endless snows, near to the end of the world—so when she finds one in her father’s favorite valley, hunting for game before winter sets in, she drags her brother up a tree to wait it out. Except the bear isn’t alone; she has cubs, and when Irina kills one of them, she has trespassed against one of the oldest laws of nature.
She’s punished for her crime when the Prince of Always Night, ruler of the endless snows, snatches her brother from her side and into the dark. But he doesn’t expect Irina to leash up her dogs and follow after him. When she comes knocking at his door, there’s little he can do but hope this heartless hunter is willing to change—or else she and her brother will be stuck on the snow until the end of time.
“Ask me for something I can give.”
IRINA LIEVNA || The eldest child of Liev Sun-wolf, champion of the northern queen. Irina was raised a hunter on the edge of the endless snows. Like everyone else in the village, she grew up listening to Great-Grandmother talk about ghosts and curses and princes, but she doesn’t put any stock in things like that. She has a tense relationship with her father’s wife; the only thing they agree on is that Fedya’s safety comes first. So when Fedya is stolen away by a stranger who knows her name, Irina has to follow, even when it starts to look like she’s fallen head-first into one of Great-Grandmother’s tales.
THE PRINCE OF ALWAYS NIGHT || The only child of the Queen of Always Sun and her long-imprisoned husband, the King in the Mountain. He was born to guard the end of the world where it drops off into the nothingness beyond. That he does, and for the six months of the year that only the moon shines on the snow, he hosts a court of souls in his palace, allowing them a place to rest and live once more. He hasn’t had a living guest in nearly a century—so when Irina stumbles into his court, demanding her brother’s safe return, he’d rather like to keep her for a bit. Not least because it would annoy his mother to no end.
FEDYA LIEVSYN || Irina’s younger half-brother, the only child of Liev Sun-wolf and his wife, the green-witch Sonya. Fedya inherited his mother’s gift of magic, his life intrinsically interwoven with every other life around him; he has the sort of magic that changes the world, slowly, but surely. His sister brings him on hunts because he can tell where living things are, and as much as he despises using his gift for that, it helps them live through the winter. But when Irina gets him cursed, he is done. He’s going to give her a piece of his mind—just as soon as she gets him back in human skin. It’s kind of hard to argue as a bear.
wip tag || wip page || spotify playlist (everything under construction)
[[ tag list: @sprigofbasil @anomaly00 // ask to be added! ]]
#my writing#wip: bearskin#writeblr#wtwcommunity#wardsoftheseas#wip intro#insert endless network tags here#this was a backburner wip that got kicked up to the top of the list#so i'm currently working on outlining and drafting it#it's super fun because it's just#a bunch of self-indulgent conversations#and yearning#with a dash of plot#next on my to-do list: actually put together my wip page#and my playlist
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