#sirdavinos.

[frcmscratch]

@sirdavinos PENNED A MISSIVE ... what’s a line or scene you’re secretly very proud of? (📚 writer craft questions meme ✍️)

There are many great writers here who keep me on my toes, so I get the chance to experiment with my prose in a fun and supportive environment. This is a long way of saying that I'm proud of bits and pieces of everything I post. I'm also pretty proud of the ask I answered yesterday. It's absolutely self-indulgent, and there's one part that felt a little cheesy, but I like the flow and the descriptions of relationships.

On a general prose writing level, I tend to be proud of my "opening images," for lack of a better word. It comes less naturally in rp, but I do love my imagery, especially scenic imagery.

Here's a little line I'm proud of from a flash fiction piece I wrote recently, too: "Marisol’s windbreaker gives her volume he knows she doesn’t have; it makes her look like a teal, purple, and pink puffer fish."

[troublemqkers]

@sirdavinos | halandil and julien | requested a starter!

it's everything he can do to keep his expression flat, blank. frankly, he's stunned the other man has enough audacity to show his face in a place like this, especially now. on the other hand, it is just like him. aranessa steps to the side to have a moment with thjazi's body, and hal simply keeps an eye on the figure in the doorway, the neck of a bottle of yahrgraz still clenched tightly between his fingers. they make eye contact for a moment, and hal forces himself to nod – you're hosting. be courteous. – but he does not speak. he isn't sure he has the capacity.

[hcllowone]

@sirdavinos | occtis and julien | requested a starter!

he's in the corner, just trying not to take up space. the funeral has filled up quickly; hal's house is large, yes, but there are a lot of people here. even so, the whole mood has seemed to shift since the arrival of the most recent guests – thjazi's widow, lady aranessa royce, and her escort, sir julien davinos. before he can consider any further, the latter moves towards him – what could he possibly want? – and he shifts further down the wall, trying to give him some space. "...p-pardon."