#amexcps

Lethal Bloods (aka Aswang WIP):

Maharlika (aka PH Mythology WIP #1):

Khrysanthe took a deep, audible breath, startling her across the table. He buried his head in his palms, trying to dissipate the anguish of the situation. Then he pushed his head back, returning his attention to her saying, “Seriously? I’m trying to help you, Cam. The old man is on the move, and I need you to trust me—” “Khrys,” she huffed, seemingly running out of breath. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Fuck, he thought, scratching the back of his head; the lack of tact urging him to throw himself a punch or splash cold water to the head—how dare he forget? He found himself unable to look her in the eyes, though she seemed unbothered by his insensitivity to her psychological construct. Khrysanthe carefully thought for a moment, crafting the right question to confirm his suspicions so he could find a way to help her. And for once in his life, he silently prayed to whatever higher, divine being granted invocations from someone like him. To prove him wrong this one time, to unburden Camellia. “Then let me ask you,” he started. “How do you feel right now?” Camellia’s eyes widened, unsure where the conversation was taking them both, but hesitantly indulged. “Tired...and weak.” She turned her hand over. Curling her fingers, flexing the muscles. She couldn’t hold it up for long when she did. Her cousin looked at her strangely; worried and examining, brows furrowed, trying to see through her. But also terrified, it seemed. She could feel it by the light stomps of his feet beneath the table, the haste of his heartbeat. “…and hungry.”

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I wanted to at least reach the 25k mark, but I was too drained.

“Do you hate being crowned King of the South?”

“I’m no king yet, mahal. I am a lowly soldier and a student still.”

“Modesty doesn’t look good on you.” Hiraia raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed. “Answer me.”

“No.” His voice was firm. Resolved. [—] was groomed to become king of his country and didn’t waver. Hiraia loved that about him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he could understand what it meant for her. “It’s an honor to be chosen.”

“I see.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Is something wrong, Hiraia?”

“Cam, be honest.” Camellia locked their gazes, reflecting an inverted image of him. [He didn’t notice.] “Are you okay? You seem—” “Weird?”

“Is there anything else? I’d like to get some rest.” “Of course, of course.” Rosen stood next, approaching her with his hand gesturing towards the door. “I’m sure you’re still hungover. I have nothing more to discuss with you.” He took a pause, seeing his reflection in her eyes. “For now.”

Commentary: Reflections, reflections. Inverted reflections.👀

Salva Arcilla went back to his apartment, sick to the stomach. Heart and mind heavy with the images he’d witnessed last night. He couldn’t shake the thought off his head, finding it difficult to bring himself to sleep with the conclusion hanging at the tip of his tongue. But he found it greatly inconceivable. Nothing he knew or heard could support the claim.

Across him was a silhouette of a human-like figure perched at the edge of a roof. Long hair tousled by the wind, head following the movements of their subjects below. Unequipped for this espionage, he couldn’t tell if it was human or otherwise. However, no human in their right mind would sit on someone else’s roof like that, especially with the ongoing threat to their safety at night. They both watched someone carry the girl out of the neighborhood to the outskirt of the city. When the figure caught Salva between the trees, they surged back into the shadows and disappeared. Whatever it was, they’d also realized a Catian lived among the Arestas.

Commentary: Salva is referring to Camellia being a Catian, a family with a cursed blood but not really. 👀 Also, I love family feuds sprinkled with bits of the otherworldly.  👀 

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

“Leave, I sai—” she paused, seeing two figures she hadn’t seen on the island before. Their bloods familiar to her nose, enticing her hunger, magic prickling at her fingers. “Well, what a surprise. You’ve brought gifts.” She glided closer, her feet centimeters off the ground, white dress flowing with the wind, dragging bits of leaves and debris in her wake. “What are your names, blue bloods.” Camellia and Khrysanthe looked at each other. Wariness painted on their faces, minds highly alerted and confused all at once. “Khrysanthe and Camellia Aresta, witch. I’m sure you can tell which one is which,” Khrysanthe replied with a little bite to his voice, hands tight on the handle of his cursed, thorned whip. “An Aresta?” The witch smiled, seemingly amused. “The two of you? I only smell one Aresta blood. The other…”—she focused on Camellia, Khrysanthe blocking her view out of reflex—“never in my life I’d expect to meet one. How do you do, binibini?” “Want to do you want with us?” The witch turned to Khrysanthe, her eyes piercing and pitch black, disrespected by him. “Your flesh and blood, of course.” Khrysanthe grinned, thrilled at the challenge. “You can try.”

Commentary: Sometimes, I think Khrysanthe is cool. Other times I think he needs to be put down. I mean, someone needs to tell/show him that he’s a mortal. One look could kill him. *eye emojis* Also, witches good.❤️ 

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Her parents traveled to the southern regions of the country. It’s been about three months since she’d last seen them and heard their voices. Perhaps it was parental yearning that made her feel somehow incomplete, lonely. Whenever she was in their presence or even at the knowledge that they were somewhere inside the house, she always felt at ease. “Old Man Roro better have a good reason for this shit.” Khrysanthe said, creeping behind Camellia, making her flinch. He seemed to have had a quick shower, but the smell of liquor still lingered on his breath and skin. “Grandfather wouldn’t call us if the reason is anything but urgent,” she replied, keeping her eyes gazing at the moon. “Nothing, nothing is more important than sleep. Especially mine, cousin.”

Commentary: Part of Lethal Blood’s opening scene. It’s cliché to open a chapter with characters waking up, but I stand by it for now.

Soon, towering skyscrapers and commercial buildings turned into smaller establishments. To residential properties, until piled neon-lighted concretes turned sparse; both sides of the road blanketed with darkened greens, scattered dews glittering under Luna’s alluring light, over-viewing the sparkling sea and the distant lights of another city. No doubt creatures loomed in the shadows. Camellia wouldn’t be surprised to get a glimpse of beady red eyes between tree branches, a consecutive rush of movements in the bushes, or even a whiff of fresh blood. No doubt the Arestas and its associates moved along with them somewhere. As hunters, naturally.

Commentary: I love this scene. It’s telling and cool. You will never catch me not mentioning the moon in any of my WIPs. NEVER.

Rosen turned his head towards her, so did the everyone else. “Our condolences, Camellia.” Something intangibly awful and peculiar weighed on her chest. It’s clawing at her throat, clutching her heart and lungs, crushing and suffocating her being. What was it? Everyone looked at her waiting for some form of response. She attempted to open her mouth, but what could she say? Their faces were painted with sorrow, salted with tears from their eyes. Why? Was she supposed to act similarly? “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cynthia shouted, leaving the comfort of her seat. Tears smudged her brown eyeliner at the base of her eyes. She wiped them aggressively, making it worse for her appearance. No one cared about appearances this time. “Back off, Cyn—” “Shut up, Khrys!” She stomped towards Camellia, hands curled into fists at her sides. “What? Can't you even shed a tear for your parents? For Aunt Azalea? Did you even love them, you ungrateful bitch? You could’ve at least pretended to feel sad—” “I said fuck off, Cynthia,” Khrysanthe shouted this time, moving in front of Camellia to shield her from whatever his sister intended to do, and stop her.

Commentary: Big Sister Cynthia is pressed. Khrysanthe to the rescue! Soak in the drama, feel it. Honestly, this was a tiring session. I hated myself for making this family so dysfunctional. heLP!

The two could’ve stayed on the property with the rest of the family. But at some point, it began to feel like a family-business conference. Rosen himself was heard talking about another nature project with another associate, and Khrysanthe, most especially, didn’t love it. Now they felt like being punished for wanting to focus on mourning. “Can we just run over them?” He heard Camellia snicker. “It could be fun, Cam. What do you think? I brought some pretty neat things.” “We kill monsters, Khrys, not humans.” “That’s not entirely true,” he pointed out, shifting closer towards her, grinning. “The monsters were once humans, no?”

Commentary: This is from Chapter 2. (The ones above are excerpts from C1.) Yes. I love how they’re just casually talking about running people over and killing in general. :)

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Hi, hello! I got through my first week. Thank you so much for reading! I didn’t introduce Lethal Bloods (formerly Dead Inside) before starting Camp Nano, so if you have questions you’re very welcome to invade my inbox. (Please.) Have a great day/night!

(More rambling beyond this point…)

This. This is my comeback to writing vampire fiction. Years ago, I swore to myself I will never write about blood-sucking people ever again, with their romances and powerful, peculiar afflictions. And I want to make it clear, it wasn’t because of similar writings/adaptations/anime. *coughs hysterically* It was my undoing, truly. The plot, the writing, the characters—it hurts me physically. Thirteen-year-old me, I’m redeeming you. It’s okay now. Hahaha—

It’s more accurate to describe this as a Vampire-Aswang WIP with semi-literate witches, curses, hunters, and thirst for world domination—ultimately featuring the creatures of Philippine Mythology (some of them.) Interesting right? We’ll see how far I could go this month.

Lastly—

Thank you to my forever partners in writing: thesaurus dot com, imissmycafe dot com, spotify (and their cafe mix playlist), classical and pop music, instant coffee, water, fried rice, egg sandwiches, and vicks inhaler.