WIP Wednesday, Snippet Sunday, and Snippet-start-of-the-week day!
I was tagged by the lovely @carriehobbs, @serenpedac, and @fauville to share smt, and even though I haven't written much these past weeks, I cannot deny my lovelies (and omg all the amazing things that have been shared!!!!! Thank you!)
I am tagging (I apologize if you have been tagged before!) : @l-llavellans @agentnatesewell @thee-morrigan @wayhavenots and anyone else who sees this (yes, you. you will join 😈)
Here is an unedited and grammatically incorrect snippet from the historical romance LT au, with a special focus on our darling Farah:
No, what made this world a contender for Farah’s excitement and curiosity, what made it perplexing and fascinating, were the humans. They possessed immense spirits that were only hindered by their physical limitations and needs. They were not as strong nor as energetic; they grew weary often, needed to rest a rather frightful amount to accomplish their day, only to go back to sleep soon after. They were always in a rush, always running about, frantic and yelling, and that delighted Farah. These beings, unlike the ones back home, seemed to always be short on time and so lived life with a sense of urgency, and seemed always to have a place to be. When she had landed off the far side of this town, two of their kind had come to aid her, ready and practiced as if it were an almost common occurrence, making sure no one save them saw her.
The older woman of the two seemed to carry an air of importance, a stern expression on her face that melted, for the smallest moment, in sympathy before schooling back to one of neutrality. The younger, who looked an awful lot like the older, stoic one but possessed kinder, curious eyes, had offered Farah her hand and an understanding smile, a smile that had lightened Farah’s sorrowful heart, despite the heavy burden it carried. Farah remembers how her own lips, left quivering from moments before, had lifted into one of their own.
The older woman had tutted and made to halt the younger one’s hand, but Farah had taken it quicker than she herself could notice. The girl’s hand was warm, and she smelled of something she would later come to know as jasmine and honeysuckle. Her eyes roamed over Farah with as much curiosity as she imagines her own gaze would have been, both of them finding each other a welcome oddity worth unraveling the mystery of. The girl had opened her mouth to say something before closing it, remembering the barrier of language that impeded their understanding of each other. After a moment’s contemplation, she instead settled on squeezing Farah's hand tenderly, before taking her shawl off and carefully draping it around her shoulders. The warm, rich burgundy cloth had settled around Farah like an embrace, offering her a comfort that she had always yearned for. That had been the first thing she had been given, and she had been the first one to give her something in this unfamiliar place.
Elizabeth walks in with her mean vampire pain-in-the-ass bodyguard on commission, and on his back is a man of incredible height and build, passed out, gray, and miserable-looking.
Lizzie looks haggard, hair flying in all directions, shirt askew and unkempt, dirt soiling her fetching black rider’s pants and boots.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“A tall one,” Farah says with a grin. Mason sneers, hissing out hers, not mine and rolls his eyes, which is the usual response he has for almost every situation —she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him exhibit any other emotion save for anger or frustration—but she catches Lilibet’s awful attempt at hiding a small smile, the small indent of her cheek still prominent despite her best efforts to school her face into an expression of seriousness. “We cannot, and I really cannot stress this enough, Farah dearest, let her know of this,” Lilibet whispers tensely, hunched over the oak wood countertop in an attempt to look casual as they exchange sensitive information. Lilibet’s eyes scan the hotel lounge still, and Mason grunts before his gruff voice sounds, “She’s not here.” Lilibet’s posture settles slightly before she looks at Farah helplessly.
(This happens before the last snippet I shared, where poor Nate has his head bashed against an ornament)
Thank you so much for reading!!!
