#nanocrymo2019

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Main character, 7 and 21

Mannerisms ask

Around someone they’re attracted to

The screen crashed to the stone floor under a single mighty blow. Then the dust rose, and a tall powerful shape stepped right through it, a hand reaching over a shoulder.

Ta’ab covered her mouth, holding in a sob. Dust and debris and tears mingled hotly in her lashes, spilling over.

For a moment, it was like they’d never fought. It was like they’d always been laughing together in corners and goading each other out in the open, and it was like they’d never stopped. In the instant their eyes met through the chaos and the gloom, it was like the house and the walls fell silent, and the pounding footsteps quieted, and the flames out the windows ceased to burn.

Then it all came rushing back, an arrow of horror to the heart, and Ta’ab broke into a run and flung herself at Chak Ti and he caught her, he held her, he crushed her to him so hard she thought her ribs would crack, but she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him with all her might, choking into his shoulder on her tears. “I thought you were gone, I thought you’d already run…”

Chak Ti’s hands turned to claws on her back, a desperate, painful grip. “No, don’t you ever think - I’ll never leave you,” he said savagely, and his voice caught and broke on the last word, bringing on another hot rush of Ta’ab’s tears. “I’ll never leave you by yourself, Ixi.”

“I won’t leave you either,” she swore, smoke in her lungs and in her hair, clawing and acrid. “I don’t want to run without you, I don’t - I don’t want -”

“Then don’t, please don’t -”

“Okay, okay -”

Every word out of his mouth was raw fire on the ice of her fear, and she gripped the back of his neck before she wiped her face furiously on her bicep. She didn’t want to let him go, if she did surely she or he or both of them would scatter into pieces on the floor of her father’s house, but Chak Ti loosened his grip and she slid down through the circle of his arms and she gasped, suddenly, “My husband - the children - the children - they were already, they ran out ahead of me, and I couldn’t see -”

“I took them already.” One of his palms cupped her cheek, his hand spanning the whole side of her face, and she seized his wrist in sudden panic, sudden elation. “I did it myself, I swear they’re safe, I saw them into the forest and down into the caves. I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to go farther than that now.”

She didn’t have words for her gratitude. But maybe - as his thumb raced over her jawline - he understood already. She gripped his wrist tighter, and swallowed the rest of her tears down hard. “So we run?”

Even in the rising dust and gloom, she could still see the half-manic flash of his grin. “Try and keep up, Ixi.”

Suddenly her hand on his wrist was in his hand instead.

And they ran.

When they’re sick

The girl servant knelt at her side, the deep bronze tones of her face leeched gray with worry. “Does the lady feel any stronger today?”

Ta’ab considered her through slitted eyelids. She knew that kind of worry - the kind Father inspired in people, not the kind that belonged by an actual sickbed. She wondered what Father would say to the girl if she brought him back bad news.

Ta’ab heaved a sigh and threw her arms up over her head, nearly knocking over the hot cup of honey and water beside her head. “No. I’m afraid I’m wasting away entirely.”

The servant girl gave a squeak of fear. “Do you need - is there anything I can -”

“I’m so weak, you’ll have to wrap my hand around my cups for me. Tell Chak Ti to start digging my grave.”

“B-b-b-but, princess -”

“If I swallow, I’ll die on the spot.” She flung a hand out toward the girl. She was eight, maybe nine years old, and she startled back from Ta’ab with wide eyes. “Come on, I’ll feel better if I hold your hand.”

The girl hesitated. But when Ta’ab let her lower lip tremble a bit, the girl giggled uncertaintly, and took her hand.

Ta’ab grinned crookedly up at her, and gave the little hand a squeeze. “I feel absolutely fine. Go tell my father I’ll join him for supper.”

She waited for the little bare feet to vanish around the screen before Ta’ab curled onto her side and groaned. “Chak Ti, are you still there?”

Chak Ti shifted on his mat, reclining onto one elbow. “Don’t stop now. I was enjoying the show.”

“Uuugghh.”

“You sound exactly like a deer-cat trying to give birth.”

Ta’ab snorted and pain shot through her entire skull. It felt like it weighed ten-score. “Don’t tell Father that. He’ll never let you and me be in the same room alone again.”

While Chak Ti choked over how to respond, Ta’ab tried to sit up, and moaned. “Chak Ti. Feed me stew.”

“I thought you said you’d die if you so much as swallowed.”

“I hate you.” She paused. “Though do you think, if I let myself go hungry, this suitor would think I’m too skinny and refuse my father?”

Chak Ti’s pause was longer, and heavier. Then there was the scrape of a bowl as he picked it up off the floor, the shifting of the fabric of his skirt as he stood up and padded over to her. “We certainly can’t have that, Ixi.” 

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

NaNoCryMo (revised)

So... my plans have changed. I’ve tried that other story the last couple of years and have come to the conclusion that I just don’t have all the ingredients for it yet. HOWEVER, a random interaction with a random writer twitter account resulted in this 

and I’m just going to roll with another story that is probably a lot more in my wheelhouse. THEREFORE, let’s try this set up again!

Working title: Burning Bridges

Genre: Urban fantasy/mystery

Setting: Southern US (I think)

Synopsis: ...And she thought life at the hell mouth was hard. At least it was a dry heat.

Toni Cole swore she would never come back to this place, but after a series of bad years being traded in for worse years and the family homestead naming her it’s next caretaker, she finds herself limping back cross country from Phoenix, Arizona to Middle-of-Nowhere, Carolinas.

Stuck with a belligerent house with a host of issues it never stops complaining  about, Toni wipes off the first layer of dust from her families heritage to find no one has been taking care of things as they should.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

13. Ghost sidekick

Proud of an achievement

There came a loud fwump, flesh and skirt slapping hard against the dirt. Then a deafening roar went up and Ta’ab looked up quickly from her lap, folding the bark manuscript back in on itself in two deft movements. “What did I miss?” she blurted.

Beside her, Tunku Bah turned his snort into a more polite cough. “Chak Ti just threw the captain of the wall guard, princess. I see you’re paying close attention to the rippling chests and the dislocated shoulders as usual.”

She frowned and ducked her head. “It’s hard to see these things with a cloth in front of your face, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I’m king in my next life and I make all the rules.”

Under the edge of the fluttering dyed cloth Tunku Bah was dutifully shielding her face with, she could just see Chak Ti turning on the spot in the middle of the patch of bare earth, his arms held aloft. “Does this mean he won?”

Tunku Bah did snort this time. “It doesn’t seem to mean he lost.” He paused. “Oh, he’s looking at us.”

And so he was, hunching strangely to try and glimpse her face from behind the cloth. Some men in the crowd were already starting to laugh at that, but of course Chak Ti didn’t care. He never did. “He’s so embarrassing. Ahi, make him stop.”

“You’re sure you want me to? People will stare.”

“They can stare at this cloth all they want.”

Tunku Bah lifted his hand, open toward Chak Ti, and the hero grinned while a wave of goodnatured laughter rippled through all of the spectators. Their odd friendship was infamous even to the country folk, apparently. “Look at that face, Ixi, come on. He looks like a puppy begging for a scratch.”

“I didn’t even see what he did.” But she hesitated only a moment. “Father will choke on his chocolate, so fine.” She lifted her hand as well, and a soft gasp rose from the crowd.

Ta’ab peeked under the cloth, and Chak Ti’s grin was wide enough to split his whole face, his dark earthy skin shining with sweat, so his entire face seemed to glow and burn like the sun itself. Ta’ab didn’t know if the tugging in her chest was fond or exasperated, and she lowered her hand as Chak Ti left the wrestling ring, an obvious bounce to his step. “He wasn’t this bad when we were kids.”

“Maybe you just appreciated it more back then.”

“Once, all of the sons in the inner circle went charging into the forest because they wanted to see who could bring me back the best trophy.” Ta’ab sat back in her palanquin, suddenly unsettled, and Tunku Bah moved in closer under the pretense of keeping the cloth held squarely in front of her nose. “One by one, they all came back with something different. Feathers. Boar fangs. Someone had even chopped off the head of some small shadow beast, and it was the middle of the day!” She shuddered, remembering. “But Chak Ti came back last of all of them -”

“He always did have a flair for the dramatic, I’m so proud.”

“-with nothing but a bunch of flowers in his hands.”

Tunku Bah was silent. Then he ducked down so he and his lovely long-lashed eyes could stare in at her properly, and Ta’ab smirked at him. “And me being about eight years old, I nearly pounced on those flowers! It meant I didn’t have to touch the shadow beast head, because that was the most impressive kill, obviously. So of course he won and taught every boy there an awful lesson in heroism. The end.”

“I think he told me about that,” said Tunku Bah slowly. Delicately. “I didn’t show up until you were thirteen, so five years later, he was still talking about that.”

“Oh really?” Ta’ab reopened her bark manuscript, disinterested. “I’ll bet he didn’t tell you that he was so quietly smug for the weeks after that, he didn’t have any friends except for me. It was a strange time to decide to be competitive.”

“What kind of flowers were they?”

Ta’ab looked up, frowning. “What were what?”

“The flowers,” Tunku Bah insisted. “What kind?”

“I have no idea? I think I put them on Mother’s blanket and they rotted there, and so the servants had to get her a new one that night.”

“They were flame of the forest.”

Ta’ab stared. “How do you know that?”

“He told me.”

“And why is that so important all of a sudden?” she demanded, exasperated.

He watched her for a moment longer, then lowered his eyes respectfully, sighed, and stood up straight, giving her room. “I never said it was, princess. Forgive me.”

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

The chief judge!

01. Full name: Ah Toq’ob Juyubal-aq (”Ah Toq’ob”)

02. Best friend: Ah Balaam Imul Yak (”Ah Balaam”): The high priest of the temple of Kukulkan

03. Sexuality: Hetero

04. Favorite color: Yellow; it’s a human sort of color

05. Relationship status: Married with kids06. Ideal mate: Someone realistic, since he tends to be idealistic. Someone who’s really good at ignoring him as needed

07. Turn-ons: Having a day off guilt-free, undivided attention08. Favorite food: Quail eggs with chile09. Crushes: Has he ever really had time for that sort of thing?10. Favorite music: He doesn’t mind singing at celebrations11. Biggest fear: That Ah Balaam isn’t what he says he is12. Biggest fantasy: Being a king, and everyone just doing what he says13. Bad habits: Wishing he was a king, holding opinions that don’t suit his worldview in low regard14. Biggest regret: Not retiring to a quiet but hardworking life in the countryside before our MC Ta’ab came knocking and dressed all weird15. Best kept secrets: He doesn’t have much faith in the council of judges, even though he would still lay down his life for his fabricated belief in it16. Last thought: “One day, someone will fix this, and I’m glad it won’t be me.”17. Worst romantic experience: He tried to give a girl feathers when he was a little kid and she told him he had a tiny nose and walked away18. Biggest insecurity: Sometimes he feels like the people around him can read his mind, and he doesn’t trust his own thoughts19. Weapon of choice: Justice20. Role Model: He’s always wished he could lead his council the way his wife leads the children, and he wishes he had her patience

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Ta'ab interiors

OC ask

interiors: describe your OC(s) bedroom/home/or a place they consider "theirs". what's in it? do certain items have a special significance to your OC?

Pre timeskip (400-year-long nap), one of Ta’ab’s issues is that she DOESN’T feel like anything (or anyone) is really hers. That starts to change once she has her kids and they start to grow up a little, and I think she has presents/items of theirs on her when she goes to sleep. Otherwise, she liked her old home plenty, but it wasn’t hers. There are some old haunts of hers and Chak Ti’s that feel like they’re hers, though.

Post timeskip, she makes a home for herself with her unsuspecting descendants, and she starts keeping her sword, some ornaments, trophies, and clothes of hers in the house they all share with some of the orphan kids, and all of those things that home and those people are all hers in her eyes.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Nature #2, Religion #6, Culture #2

When was the last time your world faced a giant natural disaster?All the people have are stories (or so they think), so no one really knows if they happened, when they happened, or to whom exactly. But the major historical disaster is linked to their religion’s creation story, where the creator gods kept scrapping inferior versions of humans while they were trying to make something that could worship and sustain them. The story is that a catastrophic flood destroyed the people made from wood, and made the world anew.

How did your world’s primary religion form?It formed from the pact made between humans and the three other kingdoms, wherein the humans promised to prove to the creators that they were the ideal and final creation, while also finding a way to lift the blight of the creators’ disappointment in the three other creations. So the humans were taught who to worship and how to worship them, and some of the first among them were even said to rise to the level of divinity, before the gods shut away their powers to keep mankind living in peaceful ignorance and simplicity. 

Whether there’s any truth to this story, or if there’s even more to it, is unknown, because most of it has been lost to time. But the people still worship a version of the pantheon that their ancestors’ ancestors worshipped, and the city-state where our story takes place still raises up one hero and one ruler every generation tasked with proving to the gods mankind’s worthiness, and meant to represent the original hero gods that rose to divinity in mankind’s beginning.

What is the transfer of power like from one ruler to the next? How often does it happen? How involved are the people?The system for now is basically a monarchy, where a god-king rules by divine right and one of his sons succeeds him, to mirror how the pantheon itself was formed. So there’s on average a handful of kings per generation. However, this all comes crashing down when our favorite city-state is destroyed by its rival and a council of judges rises to replace the monarchy, whose members are voted on by the nobility and sit the council until either they step down or they die.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

The chief judge, Rules

R: Rules1. do they follow rules?He follows the rules outwardly, but not necessarily in his head or in his heart. He at least gets that he needs to strive to let go of his own inhibitions to let a consensus be reached within the council, but there are some council members who aren’t as willing.

2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent?He’s characteristically strict, but he leaves most of the childrearing stuff to his wife.3. have they ever been consequenced for breaking a rule?Oh, yes - both within the bounds of the society he helps to maintain and outside of it, since the monarchy fell. Though the consequences of transgressing the latter are much worse than the former, though he doesn’t think so at first.4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking?He regrets following the rules quite a lot actually, once he starts really regretting breaking the pact between (what he and the people think are) the gods and his precious city.5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous?He doesn’t have much faith in the system of judges, so he thinks the rules and formalities surrounding the council to be pretty ridiculous most of the time. He honestly thinks being a king would be easier and get things done faster than being a judge.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Are there certain taboo subjects or opinions that artist/authors/musicians are not allowed to depict (i.e. portraying the official religion in a negative light, explicit sexual material, etc.)? What does this say about your society?

No one outside the inner circle of elite nobles in the city is even allowed to view the nobles’ faces in public, let alone depict them visually in any sort of way. This is because all nobles are viewed as intermediaries between the common people and the gods - too holy and powerful for the common people to treat lightly. There are steep penalties for any unsactioned portrayals, whether that be for visual art, or for slander in music or writing. Noble craftsmen, however, are encouraged - and paid generously - to depict the elite in powerful and appealing ways.

This system starts to break down after the monarchy falls and the council of judges rises, and once the nobility is shown to not be as invulnerable as people once thought.