Manuscript Search Tag uhhhh idk the number i cant seem to find any even though i know damn well i tagged them. thanks tumblr
Thank you to @writingrosesonneptune for the tag! I've been challenged to find the words Vein, Run, Please, and Give!
In return, I shall tag @nacricissa, @vacantgodling, @cobra-creampuff, @writeblrfantasy, @oh-no-another-idea, @akindofmagictoo, and @cheshirewrites, as well as making this an open tag for anyone who sees this and wants to play!
Your words are: Dance, Dust, Dash, and Doom.
Vein (Goddess-Touched, Ember POV):
After basking for a while in the warmth and finally finishing up the cleaning I’d started, I reluctantly drain the tub. Stand, for a moment, staring out the window, too scared to look in the mirror.
When I finally force myself to do it anyway, my breath leaves me in a single punch.
The threads that bind me to the things and people I love stick to every corner of the room like cobwebs, frayed and weak from disuse. Their coils build up like dust on every surface, their ends drifting lazily in the air as their origins drip from between each of my ribs. My eyes glow the bright, broiling orange of molten metal, the veins nearest to the surface of my skin lit like a hearth behind paper walls, marred and discolored in places by the injuries that litter my body.
Run (Fate Weavers, Ember POV):
“You’ve been talking to the—?”
He holds up a hand, suddenly, and I stop out of a mix of offense that he’d pull that now, of all times, and only a moment later recognize the instinctive dread that’s frozen me to the spot because of the sound of swishing water getting closer and closer to us.
“Don’t freak out out loud,” Dusk says just above a whisper.
And then the spindle-like fingers of grey hands that could use my spine as a pencil curl over the edge of the wall separating us from the water over a dozen feet below, followed by jelly-like hair and a face that screams run when I look at it.
Please (Fate Weavers, Andy POV):
“Is that why there’s incense below her statue in Unity Park, sometimes?”
“Aye. Most of the Nimian-owned smithies in town have shrines by their forges, too. You might have seen them. They look like—”
“—crossed hammer and tongs?” When Cassie nods, so does Leila. “I always wondered why my old mentor wouldn’t let me use those. They looked like the best ones in the whole shop.”
“Oh, anything less, and she’d be upset. She worked with second-rate tools, so you better, too.”
Leila hums. “Or I get two sets of very very good ones.”
Cassie chuckles. “Aye. If you want to be cursed harder.”
“Hey Leila?”
“Oh, please don’t start scolding me about my tools, too.”
“I won’t, but tongs and hammers have very little difference in quality at higher prices,” I say. “Can you walk me through the motor construction decisions here? I’m trying to figure out a good midpoint between this and the one I just tested.”
Give (Fate Weavers, Ember POV):
The Priestess purses her lips. “She did. About seventy five years ago. Training alone cannot halt Erra’s touch on the aging mind. Nor should it.”
The last three words come out like an afterthought, and I can’t help but feel a bit offended on Erra’s part, despite how little time I spend on Her teachings.
Tieling purses his own lips, a certain look in his eye not dissimilar from that of teachers and sergeants who have just seen you fail a very basic task and are ready to give you a tongue-lashing like no other.
