MORE ASCENDANCY.... SINCE YOU LIKED THE LAST SCENE >:)
As she knelt over the kicking animal, Mary asked, “Do you know why I invited you to join us this evening?”
Lightly, “Does it have something to do with the dress I’ve squeezed into?”
“No,” Mary returned, toneless. In her hand was a curved knife, the larger cousin of the kind Sorina had seen used for gutting fish. It ripped through the soft belly of the unicorn, and its guts spilled out in a single heave. Without meaning to, Sorina touched her own stomach. “Try again.”
The forest seemed, at once, infinitely empty, the hunting party far and away. The air was suddenly cold with comprehension: clever wouldn’t help her here. Right was all she could cling to.
Sorina thought: If I run, she’ll chase me. If I show her my throat, she’ll rip it out.
So she answered, “You want me to be afraid.”
“You are afraid. This is my court. My woods. My kill… And you’re only mortal.” From beneath the tidy sweep of auburn hair, Mary’s green fox-eyes pierced her through. “Try again.”
Last chance, her tone goaded. If she hadn’t dismounted, if she hadn’t--stop. Think.
“You’re considering whether to kill me,” Sorina said.
Balanced on her toes, Mary leaned over the unicorn, brushing a hand across its white flank. It no longer had the strength to fight. Pink froth collected at the corners of its mouth. Its eyes had gone obsidian blank. Smiling, Mary said, “I’m leaving the decision up to you, really.”
“In that case--”
“Stop talking.” Sorina did, biting her tongue in her haste. Blood soaked her mouth. Mary flipped the grip on her knife and dug her arms into the split torso. More offal tumbled out. “Good. I’ll tell you when to answer.”
“I know who you serve. I’m not surprised you’re here. Understand that your arrival and your continued existence in my court is a mercy. Understand that I will revoke it if you don’t play your part.” A breath of anticipation released. “In two days, I unveil my project. Witness it and return to your master. Spare no details. Attend my hunting parties until then, and once you’ve seen it, leave.”
Rooting through the belly of the unicorn, Mary made a face like discovery and made a concealed motion with her hands. The intestines came free, snipped at the stomach. Then came that, and then the liver, kidneys, lungs, and the massive, bloody heart. When it was empty and steaming, Mary withdrew her hands and wiped them on a towel tucked into her belt. It was a hopeless endeavor.
Then Mary turned the knife upon her palm. Ascendant blood beaded and mixed with the unicorn’s. Magic hummed in the air, vibrating all of Sorina’s teeth in her jaw.
Threads of mingled blood rose from her palm as if drawn by invisible needles. A wrinkle of concentration worked between Mary’s brows, and those threads shot through the flesh of the unicorn, stitching furiously. Its body closed like fabric pulled taut, flesh desiccating before her eyes, and all of it darkened with graverot until it was black and stiller than death. Sorina would have looked away if not for Mary’s gaze, pinning hers.
When the transformation was complete, the unicorn shuddered suddenly, rocking onto its side and gaining its footing once more. It rose, and Mary rose with it. She laid a hand on its sunken ribs, each bone prominent beneath withered flesh.
At its hooves, the steaming pile of its organs laid inert. Its horn was a jagged knife pointed at the sky. The unicorn’s eyes, once black, now reflected green embers, like a remembrance of a fox.
Mary said, “You will do these things for me.” It would make a fine servant, perfect in every way for its master. “It’s your decision how. Do you understand?”
Heart in her throat, sweat cold between her shoulders, Sorina bowed low. “Yes.”
logosminuspity replied to your post “eramia replied to your post “writing thoughts remove ‘I love you’...”
Have you heard of the 5 languages of love: Gift Giving; Quality Time; Physical Touch; Acts of Service, (Devotion); and Words of Affirmation. You can find a lot about these online, but it's pretty much the way different people prefer to communicate "I love you"
Note: This is the opening part of the chapter, unfortunately it’s not finished yet. It’s the last section I’m sharing from Chapter 8 until posting. If it’s boring/stupid/needs yeeting just say so. Also please show some love to @hanghr, she made an amazing piece based on the previous preview that needs to be shared more!
Okay. For those who sticked around, here it is:
Drip. Drip.
They were finally outside of that blasted cell. Fareeha was beyond joy to see a familiar face in the dank, underground base. It may not be the junkyard she last visited, but damn. Drip. All of Junkrat's bases looked exactly the same. Everywhere was full of concrete. Drip. Old, creaky ventilator shafts hummed in sync like a mechanical battle drum. Light generators illuminated the closest tunnels, but did not allow proper scouting of the area without the risk of getting caught. Drip. Creaks coming from above made a few heads turn upwards, making observers note a combination of water and hot steam pour out of the ventilation shafts. Drip. Cold wind blew against the damp walls surrounding the escapees, making them hyper aware of everything around them.
Slow, rotating ventilation fans crept against ill kept ducts, white noise filling in air with thick anticipation. Danger was near.
Drip.
Especially.
Drip. Those constant. Drip. Never stopping.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip. Goddamned water droplets which never seemed to end falling.
One even ended up on Fareeha's nose, making her instinctively back away and immediately shake it off. She got lucky.
It was clean. And wasn't sludge.
The musty smell that followed after breathing in their first intake of air did not cover the painful groan coming out of the Russian donna, who was being supported by Fareeha and the cowboy themed bounty hunter. She had fallen to the ground after being released from the electroshock chair, barely able to stand. Fareeha was disgusted at the fact that Zarya's inflicted shock waves had been triple the amount she received.
The first thing Fareeha did after freeing herself and Zarya was to frisk the Roadhog torturer in case he had some valuable information. A map or something. He had an old fashioned walkie talkie on his possession, but nothing more. Cursing loudly in Arabic, Fareeha spent precious minutes searching all over the prison cell, lamenting about her lost phone, but not loudly enough to draw attention.
After giving up search, the Egyptian helped Jesse support Zarya towards the rusted, noisy steel door. Noticing it was too hard for Zarya to talk, Fareeha wordlessly asked Jesse what to do next. Shaking his head from side to side, Jeese re-examined the surroundings.
"While I admire the fact that you're still alive missy," Zarya gasped in pain, but did not retort, "I'll have to let you go now. We can't carry you at the same time, I'm afraid. Makes us all vunerable." Getting Zarya's weight off his hands, Jesse opened the Black Jack's gun barrel with a strong twist, adding three more bullets into the empty chambers. "Last three," spinning it and jamming the firing ammo back in place, Jesse fixed his retrieved poncho upwards, perhaps a reaction out of the cold. "We need to conserve our bullets."
"Easy for you to say." Fareeha's voice croaked, feeling like she hadn't spoken for months. "At least you found your weapons."
"I was lucky the guy who tortured me had them on him. But I know where your firearms are. And missy's too. Not that you need to rely on them completely to kill someone, unless you've lost your touch." Hissing out between cletched teeth, a wounded bear told Jesse to stop calling her 'missy'. "Anyhow. 'Reeha. Miss," Zarya groaned at the ignored advice, "We need to find Junkrat's main gun cabinet. It's our best shot to stock up and retrieve our weapons. I'm sure I saw first aid kits lying about there. If not, that is our best location to find them." An eye twitched with annoyance at the sight of Fareeha's face, lowering one side of a hat that had seen better days.
"Not to mention getting rid of that thing off you. How the hell did you get that? Did Junkrat feel lucky? Or is there by mistake?"
Pharah let out a much needed laugh. "Both-" Laughing was a mistake.
The muscles under the burn mark were still reeling from the sudden burning iron mashed into her skin, shocked nerves keeping Pharah from using all of her facial structure temporarily. Turning her head towards the left side of her cheek, Fareeha's neck felt slightly exposed against chilly winds, having grown tired of the rumbling pipes. Painfully low artificial light sparked through ill kept electric lighting, some of them humming irritating buzzing noises above them.
"The sooner we get home the better."
"Da, da," Zarya agreed wholeheartedly, "I can't vait to see, see m-my little sun again."
Memories of pain and unabashed fury resurfaced in both escapee's minds. "And get our revenge." Pharah had managed to restrain any sign of pain with all her might. But the memory of that brand burning down, smashed fiercely against cheek and bone...
Like she was some sort of CATTLE.
"Da, nesomnenno. But first, home and rest. Maybe some broth too."
Fareeha looked upwards towards her taller, buffer associate. The reddened rope and stuffing marks were still lingering on Zarya's battered state too. "He really wanted to kill you. That bastard."
Drip. Lowering her head, Zarya started shaking, her body remembering its limits. "Da."
"We're gonna steam roll him, making him writhe in pain and regret messing with us."
Noting that this calmed Zarya down a little, Pharah clenched her teeth, feeling powerless at their situation.
"Look at us. Cowering and fleeing in the dark. Like we're a bunch of mook-"
Clearing his throat a little after observing in slience, Jesse raised his hand, urging the two freed mobsters to remain silent. Crouching in the shadows, all three heard quickening heartbeats pound into their ears, as clear footsteps started walking towards their closed cell. Fareeha looked upwards. No wonder it was so dark from the outside.
'We need to reach the storage area. That is where the gun cabinet is. Follow me, and you'll both be fine.'
Perhaps it was the wrong time to go back. Maybe she missed the phone and it was still there. Junkrat's henchmen were careless.
Just like--
Holding their breath, all three released it simultaneously after echoing footsteps went back towards the opposite direction. No time turning back. Letting a little sigh of relief escape, Pharah couldn't help but miss a certain partner in crime, whom she had promised to return to her side no matter what happened.
'I know you've been at one of Junkrat's hideouts once, but this place is different 'Reeha. Let's just say he learnt from the last time he had unexpected guests.'
Fareeha had to fight herself to keep a snort climbing from her throat, whispering back. 'It doesn't look that different.'
Waiting until the patrolling shadow faded from sight, the escapees waited the signal.
"Okay. Now. This way."
"Jou'd b-better knov vhere jou're going, covboy."
"Don't worry, if we get lost, I'll tell you first missy."
"Za-Zarya hold still or Mei will mark my other cheek with a cold iron stick and worse."
Facing a fuming ovtcharka in his line of sight, Jesse smiled, still wary of their surroundings. "No wonder you're still alive. Follow me."
-
Reaching a hidden hatch undetected, Fareeha stayed on guard as Jesse removed the sachets of grain hiding the iron lid. "This is where I came from. We'll go first left, get your weapons, then we're out of here. We'll find some plasters if we're lucky."
Feeling Zarya stumble, Fareeha kept her stance steady. This kept the Russian woman from commenting.
After removing a heavy box, the last barrier between their cell and freedom, a consistent noise of falling water started to sound audible.
When Jesse lifted it, there were no more doubts. A ladder became visible. Zarya lurched back out of instinct, dragging Fareeha with her.
"No vay. Ve are not going through severs, suka bljad. Either ve lover the vater levels or ve find another vay."
Irritation showed on Jesse's scowl. "Let me ask you a question. Were you tied up?"
"Da-"
"Were you tied up and half naked?" Jesse continued, not giving Zarya a chance to respond. "Were you cuffed up from your wrists, punched into your liver, shocked with a cable attached to a car battery for days, with nothing but water and rats for company?" Pointing towards the ladder with his eyes, Jesse started climbing down. "If I can go through this, you can too. Come on. Before the alarm's set off by one of those idiots."
Going down last, Fareeha helped Zarya climb the ladder very slowly, before reaching the lower ground herself.
"Close the hatch. That will stall them." The water was probably freezing cold.
And it was.
Shaking off the memory of Junkrat's bellowing face, Pharah resumed giving Zarya support, all three walking forward in the tunnel ahead, following the leader. "Stay close. From now on, we're in hostile territory." Glancing towards the never ending corridors and pipes, careful about the camera's locations situated on corners and ice cold water beneath them, they marched on.
Kicking a loose pipe out of the way ("No one's here during this hour.") Jesse raised a heavy gate by rotating a tough valve, giving up after it got stuck.
"Fareeha, I need your help. Can you stand on your own for a second missy?"
"I ca- can lead a country on my ovn."
"Good. 'Reeha, come replace me for a second. Maybe you can make this valve move faster than me."
Making sure Zarya leaned on the nearest wall securely (“Mei?” "Mei.") she turned the stuck value around until it stopped. "Nice and easy..."
To everyone's dismay, Jesse kept shaking the knob when the exit didn't budge.
"Shit. It's jammed."
"Pro- probably locked."
"Marmaladed."
Two people turned their heads instantly. "Seriously Amari? N-"
Unmistakable splashes of footsteps smothered through the water, steadily heading towards their location.
Heart pounding through every second, Jesse started pushing the door outwards, a lock preventing all of them from hoisting towards safety.
"SHIT-!! Not now--!! This wasn't locked before-!"
"Zarya come-! There's no tim-!!"
"GO--!!"
"What?!"
Jesse aimed his gun towards the chipped metal lock, the close range being an advantage. The pistol ejected one single bullet shell.
"Two more."
Grabbing the nearest loose pipe and using it as a shield, Zarya yelled back. "I'll reach jou. Let go of the valve and RUN!"
"We can't leave you! No fucking-!"
Fareeha yelled when Jesse pulled her towards the exit, the iron gate slowly falling back in place, barricading between them and Zarya.
"JESSE! Zarya's still-!"
Many sparks started to hit Zarya's makeshift weapon and the gate, sharp projectiles breaching through the gate's defensive walls.
"Hold still."
With nerves of steel, a stone-cold killer was convinced to not move a muscle, never passing a second glance. Using Fareeha's shoulder to steady his arm, Jesse made short work of two mooks running towards Zarya, two clean shots landing on their temples making them stop.
"I owe you that much missy! Make sure to don't die now!"
"GO-! Vat the hell are jou-!"
Pistol smoke echoed dangerously close to Fareeha's blind spot. She felt herself being dragged from the edge of her tattered shirt's collar. An empty cartridge fell beside her, but did not let it be a distraction. "Let me go-!! We have to stay behind!" Fareeha could only see Zarya knock out visible mooks with the force of sheer grit. Out of sixth sense, Fareeha could tell Zarya was distracted.
"TO YOUR RIGHT-!!"
Zarya flung the blood-stained pipe towards her right, stopping a surprise attack just in time.
"Hah! Spasibo shakal!! Just like in Moscov-!!"
The falling gate shut down like a guillotine, but not before Fareeha tossed the discarded cartridge sharply for a headshot, aiding her friend once more. "Don't let this fuckhole be your goddamned grave, or it’s my head Mei will roll!! Rip their fucking hearts out!! You hear me Zarya--!! Rip their fucking hearts out--!!!" Swinging with all her might, Zarya knocked down three charging henchmen with her makeshift shield, knocking another's teeth out with no remorse.
"This way! QUICK!"
Finally listening, Fareeha ran towards the door, furious when Jesse started barricading it from their side after slamming it shut.
"What the fuck are you doing-??"
"The intelligent thing. If Zarya makes it she'll knock it down," sealing the door, Jesse rushed towards the ladder. "We can make it, but we're completely weaponless now." Gunshots hit the only barrier they had, the hinges moving with every impact.
"This was supposed to be a shortcut. She can find another way to catch up from here. For now, stick with me."
Jesse reached out a gloved hand to an old associate's direction.
"For old time's sake."
Regretfully, Fareeha followed Jesse, the temperature around them feeling colder and colder.
Feeling time slow down around her, Zarya looked back, enemy blows and adrenaline the only energy pounding through her veins.
Pharah was safe. She owed nothing to that gunslinger. Zarya had sharper focus now that she saw clear.
"STAY ALIVE AMARI-! I'LL REACH JOU SOON-!!" Another mook biting dust, Zarya now tossed the pipe forcefully to stop three at once, picking dropped machine guns from the dead and firing until she stopped spinning.
Pulling her trigger-fingers away after looking down at the empty gun barrels, Zarya took breath. Falling to her knees, she looked around a pile of corpses, blood, and emptied bullet shells.
Only psychopaths count.
Drip.
She couldn't tell the difference between the cold water and her own blood anymore.
Drip. More came. Of course they did. Threw a tear gas too. An act of cowards.
Zarya could barely breathe.
Pain shot up from her knees, having no realised her body met the ground. Feeling them swell, Zarya could only hiss in agony, rising up to run. Feeling a rough hand pull back from the opposite direction, Zarya could only gasp as the one person she wanted to crush smiled back at her. "Good thing I found you again. Mei would've been so disappointed in me." A surge of bellowing laughter echoed through the tunnels, as Zarya finally let the adrenaline rush subside, fatigue taking over the unforgiving punch landing into her ribs.
"Take her back to the cell. I've been too soft."
Kneeing her to the face, Zarya spit fresh blood, as she fed off the urge to scream just to give Junkrat a false sense of security. Letting his mooks drag her horizontally back towards the cell, she kept her injured head low, pretending to be the pelt of a bear not yet killed.
Sorry... solnyshko...
Despite her inner strength, Zarya was still human.
I... cannot make it tonight...
Fareeha and Jesse retreated back to the shadows once the alarm bells started ringing, alerting everyone of their escape.
‘Shit. Stay behind. I'll scout ahead.’
Knocking the wind out of a running henchman with three swift punched slammed into his gut, Pharah dragged the heavy unconscious man's body where she was, to not be seen by anyone else, arming herself in a wink of an eye.
Quietly moving up to the side, Fareeha waited for Jesse's signal, charging forward, hitting another unsuspecting guard in the neck.
King of Wands and King of Swords by @noa89 TYSM for the grad gifts @logosminuspity And for being such a supportive friend these past few years while I was struggling to get through university You and everyone who never let me stop believing I could do it I really did it ❤️
ummm i want answers to ALL OF THEM but for now I'll ask for 2, 4, 10, and 11? ;w;
2. tell us what you’re most looking forward to writing--in a current or future project?
my favorite thing to do in any story is to set up a character who seems to have the answers and the abilities to Solve The Plot and then remove that character when they’re needed most. in both of my main stories, ive got a moment like that and i REALLY like to daydream about it
4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of
i went overboard and shared a small scene!! this is the main character of my project--ascendancy--very early on in the story! it feels very Establishing and i like how quick and snappy it was :)
“And why--” The man--Herviel, according to the thrall in the antechamber--behind the desk was sharply dressed, with little gold accents on his suit and spectacles. He had a darker brown skin then Sorina and the keen, black eyes of a marten. “--Should you be admitted in the Court of Her Ascendancy, the Countess Ducal?”
The room was well lit with tallow candles and richly furnished--save that Sorina had entered and found no chair waiting for her. She stood.
Clearing her throat, she began, “Well--”
“Well?”
Herviel made a note. What? About what?
“Well--” Sorina tried again. “--Her Ascendancy, the Marquis Casimir requests entrance to the venerable court of the Countess Ducal to partake in the fruits of her--”
“Understood. I was briefed of the nature of your patronage before you arrived. It’s why you made it to my office.” Tapping the nib of his quill against the paper; agitated. Why? “My question is: why did Marquis Casimir send you?”
“I--I’m her piece--”
“You’re nobody.” Herviel’s mouth screwed up, and he glared up at Sorina from over his glasses like she was a problem which had been cruelly inflicted upon him personally. “I can’t find a damn thing about you that’s older than a month. This isn’t a cover-up. Obfuscation leaves subtle clues. You simply didn’t exist in the Courts until just recently. Why in the world would Eirisse Casimir of all people accept you as a piece?”
Sorina watched him hunch over his array of nibs and inkwells and neatly cut paper, massaging his temples and muttering to himself.
Softly, she said, “I hope you don’t honestly expect me to tell you.”
He made a face. “You don’t even recognize a rhetorical question. For fuck’s sake.” (“I knew--”) “Marquis Casimir or no, there’s no way I’m letting you run rampant in my court. You’ll do something foolish on the first night.”
Sorina’s mind said: Obstacle. She needed leverage.
Drafting what looked like a decree, Herviel was saying, “...Castle Bran will only permit your presence for a duration of two hours each night. The guard will take note of any coming and going, and if I discover that you’re overstaying your welcome, you’ll be barred entirely. If you prove that you know how to behave yourself, I’ll consider extending your time each night. Do you understand?”
“This office is fairly small, and it’s been tucked away where no one notices it,” Sorina replied instead. “You seem competent. Is there a reason you’ve been shunted away out of sight for this administrative position? A recent debacle? A tiny scandal for your Countess?”
Sorina paused for effect. Herviel’s expression sank into what looked like a practiced neutrality.
“Do you think,” Sorina asked, lowly. “That a person like that would face no repercussions for turning away the newly anointed piece to Eirisse Casimir?”
The air in the office cooled. Sorina held the gaze boring straight through her. Deliberately, Herviel leaned forward in his chair. “Let this be your first lesson, you little guttersnipe. Figure out what power really is before you try swinging it around blindly. It’s embarrassing.”
Sorina’s mind said: Fuck.
“Now--” Crossing a line from his decree and writing something over it, Herviel stood. “--You have one hour each night, and if you spend even a minute more within, I’ll show you exactly how much your patron’s name is worth in someone else’s court. Now, get out of my office before I strike you from the guest list entirely.”
this!!! this is tasty!!!!!!!!!!
10. just. messy. i dont think i have much of a process. i find one or two core ideas that i want to build around and then i just keep flailing until ive got something good. orz
11. what do you envy in other writers?
i really love authors who make their whole cast pop! i usually nail down fun characters for the main set, but beyond that, its harder for me to fill in the surrounding world with characters that don’t feel like their purpose is the plot lol
