#sloth does tags

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.

Thanks for the tags @thewyvernrising, @gatesofminrathous, and @epiphany-jones. It's always so fun to see what everyone is working on!!!!

It is my last official day of summer vacation! I have to like...be an adult tomorrow and run meetings and shit. I'm a little sad to be losing all of the wonderful daily writing time where I just get to sit and stew in ideas.

I did *just* update Handful, but luckily, I've got a little preview of the next chapter.

The ease with which they all sink into a familiar rhythm in the Lighthouse should be comforting, but instead, it sets Neve's teeth on edge. She finds herself half expecting Harding to walk in the door, or Rook to appear asking if she's ready to head out to Arlathan. Time collapses in strange ways around her. It is so much easier to ignore her unreal city in this place, to let time and distance swirl into a miasma of forgetting. Perhaps Rook is not the only one whose memories are affected; only for Neve it is a choice. Rook makes her way through the Lighthouse carefully. She seems altogether too aware that her presence is a double-edged sword. She spends the most time with Emmrich and Willow, reading books in his study. She likes to be in Bellara's workshop too, seems put at ease by Bellara's meandering chatting while she tinkers and works. Neve has caught her sneaking treats to Assan, seemingly bemused at his uncomplicated excitement to see her. She spends less time with Taash, but she's seen them walking together, seen them talking outside Harding's greenhouse.

That's about all I can share without massive spoilers. Also! Have a little art wip too!

Still working on this piece, but getting closer to finishing it!

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.

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?

(week of 8/10---WTF how is already the 10th?)

...what I'm reading (books): Smoke Gets In Your Eyes by Caitlin Doughty. I know, I know, this is not this month's book club book, but I've had this one since BEFORE we picked books, and so I thought I'd just make my own little series read out of it because why not. Also grabbed Sea of Tranquility for a reread while I was in my classroom. I finished The Glass Hotel last week, and I just wanted to go back to this one so badly the whole time now I've got more Vincent context.

...what I'm reading (fic): I read Last Call by @gatesofminrathous and it was so fun and delightful, and I really can't recommend it enough if you want a genuinely funny rom-com rife with dirty jokes. It was perfect. Also! @thewyvernrising's Shadows of Divinity is SO good, and it's like...two chapters away from ending and I'm not ready. It's a good ol' spooky time in the forest with a side of lesbians. What more could you ask for?

...what I'm listening to: This is silly and ridiculous, but I did make a playlist for the brocos, and it's a solid playlist. I've had it on repeat. Lots of Noah Kahan, Mumford and Sons, and bummer sibling vibes. Obvs.

...what I'm watching: Actually rewatching The Expanse because @epiphany-jones was yelling about finishing the books, and I was like...you know what. I don't have time to reread a nine book series right this second, but you know what I can do? Watch the show. I maintain that as far as adaptations of a book go, they did a pretty damn good job. I think everything they cut makes sense, and obviously, they collapse some storylines and characters into each other, but I think they did it really well. Great show, great book series.

...what I'm eating: I popped a crispy Diet Coke after the Monday at the school from hell, so does that count?

...what I'm working on: Handful. Perpetually. I was thrilled to get my 15k Dellamorte family drama tangent out of my system so I can fully recommit to Handful without any distractions. I had a great epiphany about future chapters, and I've written the last scene of this act already, so it's really nice to like...see an endpoint for at least this arc and know what I'm writing towards.

In non-writing news, I spent my entire day at the school making student information sheets, printing them, and sorting them by teacher. This sounds like it would not be a process that takes six hours, but finding all of the student information involved hunting through birth certificates and PHLOTE forms and basically dealing with the most tech-incompetent people I know. Good news is that they're done, and now I can focus on putting together my breakout session for Thursday. Also, I spent the entire day with my admin and didn't murder her. Please clap.

I also spent 2k on books today, which feels frankly insane, but it wasn't my money, so it's fine.

...what I'm doing to touch grass: I'd had grand plans to do a ten-mile hike on Sunday to continue prepping for the great mountain summit here in a few weeks, but my state is once again on fire and air quality is terrible, and we're all suffering. It's supposed to get a bit better later this week, so fingers crossed?

...what's making me laugh: I watched the Critical Role from Edinburgh Castle one-shot, and it is so funny. No spoilers, but Matt really rolls like shit the entire time. Also cannons.

...what's giving me hope: I walked into the school building today and was met by a gaggle of students who all rushed me to tell me about their summers and ask me about my dog. They're lovely and very sweet, and they make me desperately want to survive the next week and a half of boring admin bullshit so I can just hang out with them and do fun things in my classroom.

Thank you for the tags @epiphany-jones, @thegeminisage (a few days ago, oops) and @gatesofminrathous!

I have finally found my pysche released from BroCo purgatory, so I'm back on my Handful bullshit. The next chapter is actually drafted, but I'm going to hold onto it until I get the next one finished to give me some lead time heading into the new school year (and also because I already dropped 15k this week lmao). Here's a little peek at the next chapter:

Though there is nothing to mark the late hour, Lucanis knows it is the middle of whatever passes for night here in the Lighthouse. It is, at least, familiar to keep odd hours in this place, but if there are other occupants of the Lighthouse awake at this hour, he has not seen nor heard them. In Villa Dellamorte there are always watchful eyes — servants and guards and Caterina, of course. The middle of the night is when the servants are at their busiest, cleaning the rooms used during the day, doing that invisible work that allows for the pretending that the Villa is always pristine. In his pocket, Caterina's latest note sits heavy with her displeasure and that all too familiar disappointment. She has not recalled him to Treviso, not yet, but he knows his time is limited. Caterina has made that much clear. The Lighthouse has always been a liminal space. A place of unreality. For so much of his time here, even after Caterina had named him First Talon, that title had felt a world away. It never felt as though it could touch him here, in this place. Caterina's note — to call it a letter would assume it was more than three lines — reminds him that there is no escape from the jaws of destiny. And why does he remain here anyway?

Everyone is having a great time in the Lighthouse, obviously.

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?

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.