#teq:excerpt

[loopyhoopywrites]

Snippet Sunday (27th Oct)

In which flirtation is just another tool in Trickster's con-artist toolbox.

You know,” Trickster said, slow and sultry and expertly suave, “To’mass–”

“It’s, um, To’maz, actually. They always print the nametags wrong.”

“To’maz,” Trickster smoothly corrected, “forgive me my forwardness, but I just have to say. You have the most beautiful eyes.”

As he spoke, Trickster gently placed his hand on To’maz’s cheek. Gently, he lifted To’maz’s head until he was looking deep into Trickster’s eyes - and not at the appointment book he’d been about to examine.

“Just stunning.” Trickster, gazing into To’maz’s eyes with a smile so saccharine it made Llanedd want to roll theirs, raised his hand from To’maz’s cheek to instead hover by the arm of his glasses.

“May I?”

To’maz –flushed, flustered, faintly pink– nodded.

Slowly, Trickster removed To’maz’s glasses. And, Llanedd realised from the resulting, all-too-familiar squint, his ability to see.

“I think I might have a new favourite colour.”

At Trickster’s words, To’maz ducked his head in… shyness? Modesty? Reciprocated flirtation? Llanedd had neither the feelings, knowledge, nor inclination to decipher. Still, whatever it was had him reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind his ear as he peeked up at Trickster from beneath eyelashes that, to Llanedd’s utter bafflement, they would have sworn were fluttering.

The moment he lifted his hand, Trickster, in one smooth movement, spun the now untouched appointment book, dropped his gaze to scan its page, and returned it to its original position, all in the scant few seconds it took for To’maz’s hand to drop back atop the desk.

Annoyingly, Llanedd couldn’t help but be impressed.

[loopyhoopywrites]

Snippet Sunday!

Been thinking about Teek recently, so here's a little snippet of the Disaster Trio hearing about Teek's dating history.

“Do you have to lie about everything?” Llanedd asked.

“Have to?” Trickster said, taking a swig from their flagon as Llanedd pushed their own away. “No. Want to? Absolutely.”

A loud sigh came from beside Mar’Gret.

“You sincerely believe these people capable of assisting me?” Teek asked, eyebrow arched. He may have had a bit of an attitude problem, but as much as Mar'Gret loved Trickster and Llanedd, she could understand why he might be having doubts.

“They’re much more competent than they look,” she lied, sending the whispered bickering on the other side of the table a Stern Look before turning kindly back to Teek. “Now, I think you were about to tell us all about this young man of yours, and what we can do to help.”

“Help?” Teek drawled, but nevertheless Mar’Gret felt him straighten in his seat, heard him inhale in the way people do whilst preparing to speak. She watched his eye skirt the table, taking in his audience, and gave him her best encouraging smile. She also kicked firmly in Trickster and Llanedd's direction. Her legs were too short to actually connect, but the wobbling of the table as her metal-toed shoes hit the underside seemed to sufficiently garner their attention.

"Very well." For a moment Mar'Gret thought that was all Teek was going to say, and was about to dispatch a more forceful approach when they suddenly took a deep breath, and continued.

“His royal highness and I met in our late teens,” he began, addressing his story to a point just above Trickster’s head, where a series of posters and notices plastered the wall. “I was fortunate enough to obtain an internship position with the castle’s resident High Wizard, and the prince would oft spend his days in the library adjacent to the arcane laboratory. He had a great thirst for knowledge, and we,” —a flicker of something Mar’Gret couldn’t identify passed across Teek’s face— “we became friends."

They paused.

“We began courting six months into our acquaintance.”

“Wait,” said Trickster, “What?”

“Believe me, the surprise was mine.” Teek lowered his gaze and, with a smile so slight Mar’Gret doubted anyone but her noticed, continued, “I had supposed, with my— well. That hardly matters. But as unexpected as it may have been, the progression of our relationship faced remarkably few barriers. His parents approved of our partnership, despite the difference in our stations, and we were… happy. Together.”

“Clearly not for long,” Trickster pointed out. Mar’Gret smacked him round the back of the head.

[loopyhoopywrites]

Snippet Sunday (Oct 20th)

Currently re-writing the chapter seven to make it fit with the worldbuilding I came up with after I'd written it the first time, so here's Mar'Gret talking to a government official.

(Also, anyone else doing snippet sunday feel free to tag me in your snippets!)

Seven hallways, three staircases, and twenty-three doors incorrectly labelled pull later, Mar'Gret, Trickster, and Llanedd found themselves seated around a slightly too small dining table, being poured tea by the Minister for Papercuts and Minor Inconveniences.

“So,” said the Minister for Papercuts and Minor Inconveniences, “what's so important that the Minister for Violence and Bloodlust couldn't just send a memo?"

He held out a teacup. Never one too be rude, Mar'Gret accepted. Never one to fall for government tricks, she didn't even chance a sip.

"Oh, just a bit of interdepartmental shuffling," she said instead, giving a befuddled sort of smile and allowing her hands to tremble a little. "You know how it is, one to many incidents in your department and the poor dears end up in his."

That part wasn't a lie. It really was a wonder what one good papercut could do for the temper.

[loopyhoopywrites]

Snippet Sunday

I'm currently tidying up Chapter Seven: A Delivery Driver, a Con-Artist, and a Murderous Grandma Walk Into a Government Building, so here's some Mar'Gret meeting my favourite side character.

“Commander! We found another one.”

A small yet solid form cannonballed into Llanedd, Trickster’s quick reflexes the only thing saving them from ending up back on their knees. The cannonball –more commonly known as Mar’Gret– dusted off her dress and stood up. Blood dripped from her nose, and even in the confused light Llanedd noted with horror the bruising spreading around her left eye. An unfamiliar anger rose in Llanedd, and they spun to face those responsible, only to find any accusation or chastisement wholly unnecessary.

Mar’Gret might have a black eye and bloody nose, but each of the six officers it had taken to drag her in were dealing with far worse, no doubt courtesy of Mar’Gret’s well-loved bat. Or, more accurately, the toolbox of nails embedded in it. Llanedd couldn’t tell if her victims were terrified, or impressed.

Beside them, Anarchy sighed.

“Another one of yours?”

“He’s one of mine is more like it,” said Mar’Gret before Trickster could get a word in, “and if you don’t mind me saying, dear, you really could do with getting some better minions. If you'll excuse my language, I fear these ones wouldn’t recognise a threat if it pole danced naked in front of them with the word threat tattooed across their unmentionables.”

A pause, then Anarchy burst into laughter. Unlike Trickster, whose laugh was a sniggering thing that always made Llanedd feel like they were missing the joke, Anarchy’s laughter was full-bodied and loud, inviting all who heard it to join in.

They didn’t, but it was nice to feel included.

“I like this one,” she announced, the roll of her eyes indicating she wasn’t as oblivious to the flinching and weapon-grabbing of her officers as she pretended as she reached out her only arm to offer Mar’Gret a handshake.

“Anarchy,” she introduced herself, “otherwise known as the nicer Devilish sibling.”

“Mar’Gret Merryweather,” Mar’Gret replied in kind, giving a firm shake before letting go.

“Mar’Gret. Any chance I could interest you in a job?”

“Stop trying to steal my friends!”

“Oh, so you’re admitting they’re your friends now?”

[loopyhoopywrites]

Last Line Tag

Thanks @emabatis for the tag :D Here's my most recent line from TEQ.

"Not true," Llanedd thought about standing up, then took note of their heartbeat and made the executive decision to remain on the nice cool floor, "I think I accidentally called you handsome once."

Tagging @k-v-briarwood @kaylinalexanderbooks @ahordeofwasps if you want to!

[loopyhoopywrites]

Find the Word

Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag :D

Opinion

In Trickster’s opinion, huge, round, magically-sealed vault doors should be required by law to only guard things worth the trouble of breaking them open in the first place.

Delicate

“Oh, would you look at that,” Mar’Gret finally interrupted, “it seems we’ve arrived.” Indeed, arrived they had. In front of them lay a delicate stone structure, too big to technically be considered a tower, but a little on the small side for a castle. The walls were a faded but pleasant pink, dotted with white-rimmed windows and meandering greenery. Three light grey turrets could just be seen rising above the rooftop. There was only one door.

Detail

“I don’t need to know the details,” Anarchy offered. “I don’t want to know the details. In fact, I get the impression it’s better for all of us if I know as few details as possible. Just–” Anarchy sighed, and when she looked at Llanedd they found themself, for the first time since their admittedly recent meeting, looking back at a face that was wholly unfamiliar. There was an openness there, an honesty. No, an insecurity. Something they’d never seen on Trickster. “Tell me I’m not going to regret this.”

Smile

"Have I ever told you about the time I conned a baroness of out of her collection of limited edition codpieces by successful posing as her wife of twenty-three years?" Llanedd sighed, but when they turned away from the ritual and the magic and the flashbacks, it was with what could almost be considered a smile. "I suspect you're about to."

Tagging @albatris @tracle0 @cwritesfiction if you'd like, to find Some, Many, and All.

[loopyhoopywrites]

Find the Word

Thanks @ahordeofwasps for the tag! Have some TEQ :)

Defenseive

“No con,” they said, rushing to continue as Malarkey raised a finger to jab them again. “I just wanted to talk to you. Alone.” Any hope Llanedd had that this would prove reassuring wasn’t so much dashed as it was chained to a block of concrete and set sinking as Malarkey immediately went on the defensive. “Oh yeah? You here to give me the third ‘til I spill the dope? Gonna put the screws on me hopin’ I’ll squeal? Well I ain’t jawin’, bozo. I ain’t afraid o’ no night in the can.”

Death

“I’m not signing up for potential injury,” said Trickster. “Injury?” said Llanedd, “I’m not signing up for potential death!” “The chances of death really are very low,” Baetryth reassured them. “We’ve only had, what, six since we started?” “Five,” Kieth corrected. “That last one wasn’t technically dead.”

Deed

In Trickster’s opinion, huge, round, magically-sealed vault doors should be required by law to only guard things worth the trouble of breaking them open in the first place. Gold and precious gems took first position, of course, with spices coming a close second and silk and other expensive cloths achieving third place, if only because they gained rather a lot of points in the ‘aesthetic’ category. Other acceptable answers included other precious metals, jewellery, well-forged swords, deeds to large estates, horses, love letters between a noble and their illicit lover that could be used for blackmail, and actual noblemen who were well liked enough to be held for ransom (although Trickster much preferred his stolen goods to be incapable of speech, as they were less likely to draw attention to themselves). This particular vault door, however, didn’t seem to have gotten the memo.

Dent

They were almost at the end of the corridor by the time Mar’Gret finally reached her apparent destination; a brown door that would have looked completely normal were it not for the unnerving amount of scorch marks, dents, and dark brownish-red stains whose origin Trickster absolutely refused to wonder about. It went without saying that he was more than happy to let Mar’Gret take the lead, but before she could so much as raise a hand to knock, the door to YOLT: Necromancers for Hire flew open and Mar’Gret was engulfed by a pile of screaming bodies.

Tagging @albatris @space-writes and @oh-no-another-idea if you want, to find Fire, Earth, Air, and Water :)

[loopyhoopywrites]

Snippet Sunday

Tiny snippet today, have some Trickster and Mar'Gret.

On reflection, saying ‘pinch me’ to a woman whose favourite pastime was acquainting goblyn heads with a nail-bedazzled baseball bat wasn’t Trickster’s wisest idea.

“Congratulations,” he said as he rubbed at an arm he hoped might regain feeling in the next day or so, “you’ve successfully convinced me I’m not dreaming.”

Rather than the expected reply (indulgent, yet slightly patronising in a way Trickster never knew was purposeful or just an side effect of being old), Mar’Gret gave a slight furrow of her wrinkly brow and waved a hand near her ear. Intimately aware of the universally accepted gesture for ‘I can’t hear you’, Trickster mouthed the words again, supplementing them with hand signs so Mar’Gret could understand him over the sound of Llanedd absolutely shredding it on stage.