#sloth does tags

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the wonderful @sorcerousadventurer, @epiphany-jones, @gatesofminrathous, @sorrygoldfish, and @blightwashed. Thank you for thinking of me!

I'm going to take a page out of @qaanngi's book and post an art and a writing WIP this week.

First up, writing. Just posted the prologue for I Will Show You Fear in a Handful of Dust today(Let's just refer to it as Handful going forward because that's a mouthful ha!). So here's a bit of the first chapter. It's a real tragedy that it's taken me this long to write a Neve POV. As always, Eliot references abound here.

Neve tucks her handkerchief away as she steps back out into the cold, persistent drizzle. These days, Minrathous feels empty, hollow. Those who could afford to leave have fled, and those who couldn't eke out some version of survival. It is hard, she thinks, to explain the changes in her unreal city, to its rhythms, its patterns. It is something she feels that only someone else from here can truly understand. The way the city breathes is different - something changed in it while she was away, something deeper than the obvious blight and suffering. Every day, she feels that she is trying, grasping, attempting to find the thread of this place again, that maybe if she does, she will find absolution for not being enough to save it completely. But she knows she's not the only one who seems to be searching, seeking. Those acknowledgments live in glances, in nods on familiar corners where she is seen and therefore known. It is impossible for her to travel in obscurity these days.

And on that very optimistic note, here's a peek at a piece I'm working on for Lucanis week. I am especially proud of the armor rendering here.

Tagging @qaanngi, @thewyvernrising, and @grad-writes (though I suppose it's not Wednesday for you, is it?).

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @epiphany-jones, @sorcerousadventurer, and @thegeminisage!

I've been picking a bit more at my Illario side story...working title: Fractures. Might have it up and ready to go in the next week or so, but here's a little bit from that.

When Caterina dies, it is not a surprise. Illario is there, at the house he typically avoids because Lucanis had called and told him he thought she didn't have much time left. He was right. Mere hours later, she took her last breaths in the hospital bed that had been moved to the main living room. Lucanis had been holding her hand, and Illario had been standing at the foot of her bed, feeling much like he had on the day they'd found out about her diagnosis. It had felt like some strange practical joke then, too. There was no way his grandmother, whose intellect had always been dagger sharp, could forget so much. Every time she looked at him and couldn't remember his name, he waited for the follow-up of laughter, the admission of the joke. But it never came. It didn't feel real that she could just…forget him. And what did it say about her that she remembered Lucanis more clearly than him? What subconscious message did that send about her? So even now, as the hospice nurse confirms she's gone, he's waiting for the punchline. For Lucanis, who doesn't cry or seem sad at all to laugh, for Caterina to sit up, and for them all to be in on it at last.

Oh Illario.

Tagging @gatesofminrathous, @thewyvernrising, and @sorrygoldfish. What are you guys working on? <3

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @gatesofminrathous and @epiphany-jones, thank you for the tags!!! I just updated Handful, and I'm hearing rumblings from more than one person that the angst scares them, so what if I gave you a little taste of the Illario visit fic? It's already 3k and nowhere near done. I think it's shaping up to be a multi-parter.

"You doing okay back there?" Camina asks, pausing at a bend in endless fucking switchbacks. Illario wants to scream at her, but he cannot get fucking air into his lungs. "I'm fine." It is less convincing than he would like around panting breaths. "You sure? We can take a break any time." "I work out at the gym every fucking day. I'm fine." Camina nods. "It's the altitude, my guy. We're way higher here than in Treviso." He glares at her, but he does stop in the shade of a spindly little tree to catch his breath. It's not fair that she's barely broken a sweat. Camina is not only short, but possesses none of the obvious markers Illario would expect from someone who spends her weekends climbing mountains. She looks like someone who enjoys bookstores rather than switchbacks. That illusion had been quickly shattered about a mile into the hike. And that's to say nothing of the demonic dog whose tail wags happily while Camina uses the break to give her a drink from a collapsible water bowl attached to her pack via a carabiner. Why did he agree to go on this hike again?

It might be the altitude. It might also be the fact that he mostly goes to the gym for the selfies and to pick up people, but what do I know?

Tagging @thewyvernrising, @qaanngi, @sorrygoldfish, and @blightwashed if you're feeling so inclined!

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tags @blightwashed, @epiphany-jones, @gatesofminrathous, and @sorrygoldfish.

Clipping right along working on Handful. I'm currently drafting chapter seven, but I'm coming back around to work on chapter five, where we get to hang out with Neve again.

Sunset casts Minrathous in swaths of hazy orange light that feels so reminiscent of Elgar'nan's moving of the moon that Neve casts her eyes skyward just to be sure that the sun still hangs there in the dust. A handkerchief tied around her face keeps her from breathing the worst of it, but the dust gathers, coating everything in sight, leaving behind a fine layer that accumulates day after day no matter how carefully it is brushed away. She makes her way to the docks, to the ship that is waiting. Ships used to arrive to the Minrathous ports every hour of every day. Big ships that had traveled from Kirkwall and Orlais, Antiva and Rivain. Little ships that flitted up the coast from Marnus Pell and Vyrantium. The smaller vessels still come and go along the coast, where it is safer, the sharpness of their triangular sails cutting through the gray water of the port. It is far rarer to see the white billowing sails of a true ship. And for all Neve hears about the dangers of the seas, the unpredictable tides, the currents that have changed, still it is here.

I am SO excited for this next chapter. It's fun to be back with Neve. Will she be having a better time than when we last saw her? Probably not!

Also! Working on a little art. I have started and abandoned several pieces, but I do think I finally have an idea for an illustration for Handful. Still in the very rough sketch phase; please ignore whatever Cam's fingers are doing on her right hand. Though the final idea might involve gif-making...which I've never done, but what is summer for except learning new skills?

Tagging @thewyvernrising, @qaanngi, and @dags-over-caravans if you're feeling so inclined.

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @epiphany-jones, @gatesofminrathous, and @sorrygoldfish. Thanks for the tags, friends! Still chipping away at Handful. We've seen Neve having a bad time, and Lucanis as well. And so now it's Davrin's turn!

A ribbon of smoke rises in the distance, pale against the bruised evening sky. Home, someone might have called it once. Now it simply means walls. A fire. Maybe a bed if they're lucky. Maybe even water for a bath. Maybe, for one night, he won't wake with dew soaking through his blankets and mud drying stiff against his clothes. But even a bath won't banish the smell of burning blight from him; that shit clings, never seems to fade. It's the only way to clear it though. The blight here is different than it had been in Minrathous. There it had died dry, brittle enough to splinter beneath an axe. Ferelden refuses even that mercy. Here it's green wood. Wet. Fibrous. It smolders instead of burns, vomiting thick, bitter smoke that hangs low over the fields and hills, choking out the watery sunlight. Every pyre feels like trying to cremate the earth itself. He can't remember the last time he didn't have the astringent, acrid smell of burning blight hovering in the back of his throat. Sometimes Davrin catches sight of the little crew of Wardens marching with him through the haze, and they look more like ghosts than people, trudging toward another town, canvassing another road. Dusk gathers around them, and no one has to say a word before the pace quickens. Hope is a dangerous thing. It doesn't have to be large. Sometimes it is nothing more than a little smoke on the horizon.

*sighs wistfully* If only he knew what that little ribbon of smoke really was. It's going to be terrible.

Tagging @thewyvernrising, @qaanngi, and @blightwashed if you're feeling so inclined.

[slothquisitor]

Tag Game: Ten People You'd Like to Get to Know

Tagged by @thefrostyshepard, @dags-over-caravans, and @thewyvernrising, thank you for thinking of me. It's been a minute since I did this, so let's update this.

Last Song: I've kind of been cycling Clair Obscur as the writing music lately, so definitely some of that. Also, Noah Kahan's new album is on perpetual repeat. Sprinkling in some Phoebe Bridgers, too, because I snagged concert tickets, and I know that's more than one song, but I can never pick one thing. I contain multitudes, okay?

Currently Watching: The Legend of Vox Machina. Though I did rewatch the entirety of The Pitt on Sunday and Monday when I was too sick to move. Usually, I am terrible at watching things, though. I blame the dog; she thinks everything on the t.v. is real.

Current Obsession: The Waste Land by T.S. Eliot. I have been poring over my annoted book of it, and all my notes from Oxford. How many references to this poem are too many in the new WIP? Also, the new clickety clackety rainbow keyboard I bought is bringing me lots and lots of joy.

Currently Reading: I finished Land by Maggie O'Farrell last night. I don't want to say too much about it because I think that this is one on a lot of folks' TBR, and it did *just* come out. It was more of a family saga than I expected, but it was really beautiful, and I'm still sort of processing the ending and my feelings about it. It's complicated. A lot of near misses. I think that's the point? Closure doesn't exist? I don't know! I am starting The Memory Hunters next, though. Being down and out this entire week with this cold has really thrown me off everything I wanted to be doing.

Currently Working On: The new WIP, I Will Show You Fear in a Handful of Dust. Prologue is done. I'm still drafting out chapter one. This is the first day this week I've felt good enough to really work on it. I've got some lofty prose-level craft goals on this one, so I don't think it's going to update nearly as frequently as I usually do, but I've also been updating once a week for the better part of a year and a half now, so I think maybe a break is warranted.

Currently Wearing: Sweats, baby. I'm still kind of sick and certainly not leaving the house for anything right now. My tank top does have a mountain on it, which tracks.

Last Internet Search: Dock Town Dragon Age - I was checking if it was one word or two because I can never fucking remember. Which maybe gives you a hint as to where chapter one of the new fic takes place.

Favorite Flower: It's summer, and I love my snapdragons. I have really fond memories of my grandma's planters on the side of her deck filled with snapdragons and her showing me how to gently pinch the blooms to make it look like a little mouth opening and closing. I don't have any pics of them currently and I'm not venturing out, but I have really pretty, very dark purple ones in my yard this year. It makes me happy every time I see them.

Tagging @gatesofminrathous, @sorrygoldfish, @thegeminisage, @epiphany-jones, and @qaanngi if you're feeling so inclined! <3

[slothquisitor]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @thewyvernrising, @sorrygoldfish, @epiphany-jones, @gatesofminrathous, and @blightwashed. It's so fun to read everyone's stuff and also be reminded of what great fic I'm woefully behind on reading. I've been busy running the ACT today, and I'm at a conference for the next two, but then...I *think* I'll have fic reading time again (at work even? lmao). Anyway, it's been a minute since we had feelings about the Dellamorte brocos, yeah?

“So,” Lucanis says, hating how tentative it sounds. “How are you?” He had worried, in the beginning. When Illario hadn’t returned his voicemail, he’d scrolled through his social feeds like someone checking a pulse. The entire feed was mostly pictures of his sports car or shirtless gym selfies with asshole self-help quotes about positivity and hard work and not having regrets. But he had posted at least one beachfront pic of his holiday vacation, so Lucanis knew he was purposefully ignoring him and not dead or something. Another thing he can't exactly blame him for. “The company is fine,” Illario says. “If that’s what you’re really asking.” “That’s not what I’m asking.” The words come out sharper than he intends. “I don’t care about the company.” “Busy,” Illario replies. “As I’m sure you are.” “Yes,” Lucanis says. “I am.” Another silence. It feels less like a gap and more like a wound neither of them will probe. “Are you doing alright?” Illario asks at last. The question sounds forced, as if pulled through gritted teeth. Obligation wearing the mask of concern. Lucanis could tell him. About Camina. About the way his days feel structured now, purposeful. About the friends who do not know him as caretaker or disappointment. About the fact that he is, impossibly, happy. But some instinct keeps it guarded. Illario has always had this way of turning the best and brightest things in Lucanis's life into something small. “Yeah,” he says instead. “Much better now.”

Have we considered talking, but not saying much to each other at all? Always a good time, these two. Tagging @qaanngi, @sorcerousadventurer, and @thegeminisage if you are so inclined, no pressure!

[slothquisitor]

Last Line Written

Thank you for the tags @epiphany-jones, @sorrygoldfish, @thewyvernrising, @blightwashed, and @gatesofminrathous!

I am an entire 478 words into the next chapter. I am sure it'll emerge fully formed this weekend. But for now...

Oil sizzles in the pan as Lucanis stirs the sauce with one hand and braces the other against the counter, grounding himself in the ordinary rhythm of cooking because he still does not know quite how to stand inside conversations like this, where nothing is being sharpened into a weapon.

No context because where's the fun in that?

Tagging @qaanngi, @chaosherald, and @thegeminisage if you're feeling so inclined.