#nanocrymo24

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It's time for: NaNoCryMo 2024!

It has been five years since I attempted to do NaNo, and this year I am BACK, ready to get some work done on an original project. For those who have not been her for previous NaNoCryMo, I love to bring my friends with me (and I'm always happy to bring more), and for the month of October, we prep for the long haul by doing a few exercises to help us out.

We’re mostly all working on original works, so if you send in asks about AnS fics-- or other fandom's fics!-- I won’t be able to prioritize answering them. But if you’d still like to help us out, I'll be posting ask memes each week to help us with character and world building, and we’d love for you to send us some asks. Most posts will be accompanied by a list of characters (different for each of us, of course) to make it easier to pick who you want to hear about.

Otherwise, I'll still be posting a few fics this month-- maybe into November, if I get a good queue going!-- and I'll be back for winter challenge at the end of December!

Other NaNoCryMo participants:

@infinitelystrangemachinex @claudeng80 @kirayaykimura @officiallallorona @balfrey

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

My Current NaNoCryMo Project

Title: Beasts of Elenghul Genre: High fantasy Setting: Snowy active volcano, fantasy Second Great Awakening -> fantasy Victorian era Synopsis: It's been an age since the last long sleep, when the Wanwathin race last passed their usual winter in the presence of their forefather. It's been many more ages than that since they lost sight of their guiding star. The newest generations have been born short-lived and unsightly, and for some of them, a growing movement in the bowels of their fair settlement will take them to a city rife with offerings too tempting to refuse.

[sabraeal]

One of my favorite worldbuilding prompts from back in 2019 came from World Anvil's Summer Camp prompts, but it doesn't seem that they post these graphics on tumblr anymore! Taken from the World Anvil twitter: Send an ask with up to three of these numbers, and I'll give you an example from the project I'm currently working on!

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NaNoCryMo Day 9

Excerpt:

Behind him, a veiled matron stepped forward, taking in Elena with a pinched expression. He had seen those looks before— back in her village, from people who had known her for her entire life, who had helped raise her from a small child, and still muttered ved’ma beneath their breath as she passed. Beneath his gloved hand, the muscles of her spine tensed.

He pitched his voice low. “Elena…”

“Of course, Pater,” she said, mouth spreading open in something like a smile. “I would only be too glad.”

“Good,” the man said as she passed, following the older woman into a more private room. “That will give us plenty of time to chat, Brother.”

Never had he felt luckier than in that moment that Elan’ti faces did not express in the same way as a human. Where a man would have grimaced, his eyebrows only rose, head tilting.

“As you say, Lazar Paterec.” He bowed his head. “It would be an honor.”

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NaNoCryMo Day 4

Excerpt:

“Why are you leaking this time?” he asked after a long moment, finding any other place to look but her.

Elena had cried for any number of reasons along this trip; this thing had her dripping water over the most inane of things: a missed meal, a mean look, and once, memorably, a sunset. It had been hard to take those first few weeks, and though he’d gotten used to it, Sen couldn’t say it was better.

She sniffed, and Sen stiffed, brace for another outpouring. But she spared him that, at least, by giving him an answer instead. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

He blinked, muscles easing until he could run a hand along her back. She seems to like that, arching into the movement. A small price to pay to make the crying stop.

[sabraeal]

NaNoCryMo Day 18

Excerpt:

“Ye gods,” Galina muttered, breathless. “Is this an Olmü?”

“I am Mondo,” the great beast said, its fur ruffling with joy. “And you— you are a woman!”

“I am,” Galina informed him, faint.

“I can tell,” he told her with great pride. “You have no hair on your face. And you are shaped like”— he cupped his two hands, flexing them until the made a vague hourglass shape— “and not”— his fingers nimbly twist to a triangle with its point down.

“My, my,” the old man said with notable interest. “How very clever.”

Galina did not seem to share the same opinion, but seemed too shocked by the situation to do much more than mutter a strained, “Ye gods.”

[sabraeal]

NaNoCryMo Day 25

Excerpt:

Thick mittens of fur shed away, exposing tough leather beneath. They were not so finely made as Caiyur’s own; he had spent and exorbitant sum at the clothier to make certain that every seam would align, and the skin would lay snug along his own. No blister would blemish him when he took his lady to hand, he had made sure of that. But still, the beast’s fingers gave a dexterous flex above the fire, the movement far finer than any he could make with flesh bared. His stomach roiled, simply watching. He should look away— the unnatural never became natural simply by holding it in sight— but he could not. Not when leather sloughed away to skin, exposing two long-fingered hands. Joints worked, opening and closing, sinews dancing starkly beneath skin. Had they belonged to a man, their graven cast would be a cause for concern, but these— these did not, by any means.

“I see you’ve decided to join us.” The cultured tones dropped from Maksim’s voice, the weariness wearing through. “Though you took your time.”

“I was summoned.” Slender fingers slid beneath the edge of its hood, fur and leather slumping down the the heavy mantle at its shoulders. Thick black hair curled against its head, matted and damp from sweat. “It is easy to arrive, when one has been informed they must.”

“Ah.” Annoyance clouded over Maksim’s good humor. “So it’s Galya’s pocket you’ve decided to take your feed from, is it?”

One hand yanked down its cowl, baring its grin. Not a human one made from humor, but an animal’s grimace; a wolf gritting its teeth, ready to bite. “I am not on any side.”

[sabraeal]

NaNoCryMo Day 24

Excerpt:

A frigid wind cut through the tent, rushing through the open flap. Caiyur pulled the fur of his collar up to ward off this witch’s kiss, but it was too little, too late. The slim fingers of her breath slipped under his coat, caressing down the length of his spine. Teeth clamped, he turned, voice so waspish it could sting. “Do you mean to let the whole of winter—?”

The words withered on his lips.

“Maksim Makarovitch speaks true,” the beast said, its great, furred shoulders working beneath its pelt. “And you will most likely die, as you believe advice to be a challenge rather than wisdom.”

“Ah, oblakchik.” Maksim sighed, heaving himself onto the poor excuse the tent possessed for chairs. “It is too early to be taking out our knives.”

Eyes were not visible beneath the thick mad of black fur and white snow, but Caiyur knew they were upon, him, sharp and searching. At least, until the beast turned away. “I do not know what you mean,” it said carefully, as it always did. It had to, to speak around those fangs. “I only speak the truth.”

Maksim leaned a cheek against his fingers, mouth cants with amusement. “Have you considered, that the truth is not always as you see it?”

“The truth cannot be anything by what it is.” Even under all that fur and leather, the beast moved toward the brazier with predatory purpose, sleek and sinuous as a panther with all the menace of a wolf. “But it is only the be expected that a boyar might find argument, even in that.”