Motivated by tags from : @willtheweaver HERE and HERE , @aintgonnatakethis HERE , @wintersenwritings HERE
Mixed lines/snippets from The scarred angel, book 1 of the Ashley Knox Trilogy with some art in progress too
*****
Quick context because I'm nice 😇 : Ashley and Amy barely know each other at this point, and they're on the run.
........
"How can you possibly be ok?" Phil had questioned, anything Amy could possibly argue unacceptable to start with.
"I'm not alone..." she had tried to sound reassuring, uncertain about how to introduce Ashley's existence.
The attempt miserably nip in the bud when Phil had lashed out : "They've told us you've been kidnapped!"
His voice wavered with piled worries and stress.
Now Amy treads along the sidewalk that rounds the store and turns at the corner between the low building and the gas station close nearby where her 'kidnapper' is waiting for her, arms crossed, leaning against the red mercedes whose engine keeps sputtering.
Amy thinks it's actually a miracle the rundown vehicle is still serving after the last [.....] with no worst threats than rust and suspicious motor clanging.
"Sorry, I've made it as quick as possible... " mechanically Amy hands her a cup and the newspaper , Ashley nods and mutters back a "Thank you".
"Main page mentions two casualties but not among the law enforcement, though." Amy reports, brow still furrowed, a trace of nervousness lingering in her voice.
She doesn't notice the curious look in Ashley's eyes so she's taken aback when asked : "How did it go?"
Sipping at her coffee Amy thinks at the best way to resume on the conversation.
Brain rightfully lists that Phil is family, Amy owns him and she's truly sorry for making him upset , yet she can't ignore the part that she recognizes as her will and this one bounds for her to stay no doubt.
"The police and my office [.....] called him yesterday, he had no much of an update since but plenty of time to imagine the worst.
Reluctantly Amy adds "He got a bit bent out of shape because I told him I wasn't coming back yet."
Ashley nods and cracks a lopsided grin : "Understandable, he cares about his girlfriend."
Silence lingers before Amy's eyes wide at the sudden realization .....
.................
ART IN PROGRESS 😜
Tag (NP) lots of mutuals because it's mixed fried tradition :
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****
Wip The scarred angel / DRAFT Zero - actual chp 9 "The den"
ART (IbisPaint, yes, I'm playing with it) + Text under the cut / CW body fluids (?)
.......
What they see are metal bars running from the ground to the ceiling same as a prison cell, bare and completely empty but for the deadly stink of urine mingled with the stale of other non specified substances.
Ashley clenches her teeth while she swipes the rye of the torch's light over the rock walls, the unwilling tension clasping at her nape and the pit of her stomach obviously going unnoticed by the two women with her.
Which is exactly how it has to be.
The lingering stink reminding ammonia's does speak loud enough about people that have been held captive inside.
Now the cell's door has been left locked, the key nowhere to be seen.
Since there is nothing more to check they resume the inspection and walk deeper into the gallery.
.........
..................
Eyes open wide in shock when they push open the second door.
"Is this a lab ?" Amy speaks first, almost in aw, while she takes in the surroundings.
A fair work has been achieved to get this part of the gallery almost matching a typical white collar working space, including a ventilation system and rather some equipment, considering what's been left, to re-create a functional setting.
"They lack on the decoration side..."Amy mutters in bitter irony to balance the surprise.
These walls are bare indeed but for a few office magnetic boards that have been swiped clean, and a regular paper print of the Holy Mary stuck crookedly on the wall near the entrance.
Amy follows Ashley's gaze lingering over that one.
"Do they pray?" she asks not holding back the disbelief in her pitch at the sight of the sacred image.
Pretty much out of place, to say the least, borderline surrealistic.
Ashley's eyes narrow for a moment, brow furrowed, then she shrugs as a response and sweeps her attention across the rest of the space.
In the spirit of "fuck it we ball" AND breaking that unhealty habit of overthinking and procrastinate posting here a few snippets of a scene that gave me quite the headache....and still does 😒
Not the whole scene because....reasons (spoilers?)
Special THANK for the tag to :
@aintgonnatakethis for WIP Weekend
@theeccentricraven for Nine lines Nine people
@willtheweaver for Seven Sentence Sunday Someday and another one on Sunday (not me though 😂)
and @wintersennwritings for WIP Weekend Weekday
Snippets DRAFT ZERO - The scarred angel (Ashley Knox trilogy) AND some art under the cut
The screen showed what looked like a fingerprint magnified multiple times over.
The red cursor blinked and bit down pixels, the trajectory defined by the code scrolling across the screen generating the necessary electrical impulses, worked like any eraser tool in a graphic software leaving behind large patches of black.
"It's empty now....." the man wearing a white lab coat muttered, basically to no one but himself, squinting through his spectacles at the output on the screen.
His quite imposing stature forced him to sit slightly slouched forward.
Bony pale fingers switched continuously from mouse to keyboard without him taking his eyes off to what on-display.
Except... it wasn't empty.
.......
.............
One of the two men standing behind White-coat snorted through the handkerchief fabric concealing his nose and mouth :
"What the fuck? He'll trash all those fucking wires you stuck on his head, why you don't sedate the bastard?"
...........
..............
White-coat chin pointed towards the glass wall that separated them from the gruesome scene : "Shut him down." he instructed the two men, voice neutral and fingers keeping up the typing on the keyboard.
It was the second man's turn to snort as he walked briskly towards the glass door, pulling out a gun from behind the waist band.
The door had barely swung open when the silent blow brought the subject's ordeal to an end, sending splotches of red blood and gray matter all over the wall next to him.
...........
..................
The two men pulled the plastic coat that covered part of the walls up to the floor underneath the chair, opened the shackles and shoved down the corpse that hit the floor with a heavy thud, rolled it inside the tarp folding the exceeding haphazardly and started to drag the whole thing, one to each side.
"Next time fix that better, would you?" the first one complained loud enough through the fabric.
The other grumbled back something unintelligible, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips.
Just few minutes before his hand had found the lighter in his pocket to lit it up.
It would had help to bare with the fetor coming from God knows where, since the bastard on the chair was still alive at that point.
But White-coat's stern look, the only moment where the fucker had dignified them with a glance, had stopped him midway.
Clearly this fucker had to be immune to the miasma.
So now, as his comrade was pissing him off, he came back to him that it really did suck they couldn't get rid of this White-coat ass too.
Because the orders, of course.
.............
............
When they passed next to the desk where he was abusing his keyboard White-coat instructed : "Bring the next in." still not taking his eyes off from the screen, tone flat.
Both men barked out a groan.
"Fuck man, are you telling me we have to cover it all up again?" blurted out Thug-number-one through the hankie.
At that White-coat finally snapped out from his work.
He tilted his head and in a nervous reflex adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose, like he hadn't fully acknowledge the presence of the two thugs in the lab with him until that very moment.
.....
.......
The two men finally reached the corridor that leaded to the outside.
.........
"I'm telling you, this whole thing is rubbing me all wrong." Thug-number-two grumbled again.
Thug-number-one nodded, fucking finally getting rid of the hanky and using it to drab dry the sweat from his brow.
"This son of a bitch is fucking heavy" he chin pointed to the roll tarp "Pick up the next one skinny, shall we?"
Out in the open on the truck's cargo bed were piled up several other corpses already, summarily wrapped in a mess of blood-stained tarp, the layers not to discourage swarms of buzzing flies that lift in the air as the men made an ultimate effort to lift and dump the last dead man's body with the others.
...........
For a while the only noise came from the flies buzz feasting and the sandy dust scrunching under the soles as the two enjoyed - fucking finally - a well deserved smoke, back leaned against one side of the truck in the only very thin sleeve of shadow.
Then Thug-number-two broke the silence : "The asshole said 'another one'." he tsked.
............
Another bunch of seconds trailed while both drag on their cigarette and exhaled smoke then Thug-number-two prompted again : "You know what this shit's about at least?"
At that Thug-number-one made a face, his resolution to keep quiet instantly out : "What? You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"New business man!"
Thug-number-two arched a brow, skeptic.
Thug-number-one insisted eagerly, enjoying the sudden authority that came from being the only one aware of what's going on : "Fuck, man, I'm telling you! All this shit? Progress, man!"
Thug-number-two gave him an unimpressed look : "Fuck progress, has Moreno said that?" he almost pouted.
"Man, are you against progress?" Thug-number-two mocked him.
The other shrugged : "Fuck off!" he muttered averting his gaze, then spat on the ground and sucked on the cigarette keeping silence, all to underline his contempt.
Thug-number-one toke his time and let his comrade sunk in his bad mood for a bit, then chucked the butt in the dust, snuffed it with the heel and conceded : "Moreno didn't say shit".
He straightened up and adjusted the belt under his prominent stomach : "I've picked things up by myself. See all that crap now, computers and stuff?"
The other gave him the eye, but clearly enough he wanted to know.
...
............
Also working some art for one of my OCs, Frank Morales....not there yet in the way I imagine him but wip
(The girl is not happy about it....😅)
Aight, let's tag some people (np) + OPEN TAG and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻
Fuck it! This is what I got for keeping up to procrastinate 😂😂
All wip, the text and the art!
(Potentially this would be one of the last scene in book one....before.....)
The scarred angel / DRAFT ZERO
....
Ashley doesn't say a word but swerves the wheel on the right and pulls the Lincoln on the side of the road.
Break pedal all the way down and handbrake up almost at the same time, the car jolts at the improvised stop.
Her eyes lock with Amy's .
For a moment the only sound filling the air is the engine's humming in the background, then the sharp crack of seat belts unfastening and the driver seat pushed all the way back echoes in the cabin.
Amy's already on Ashley's lap straddling her, urgency consuming.
Hearts ignite and mouths collide.
At first Amy's hands grip Ashley's shoulders to stabilize herself, fingertips digging into the fabric eager of the feeling of the skin underneath, then her left hand stroke up cradling Ashley's face, the pad of her thumb brushing gently the scarred skin while her right slides up into that mass of hair, fingers curling in.
It's almost an intoxicating relief to finally sink her fingers in, to give in into the softness and the tickling of golden frizzy curls to the point that Amy has to hold back from squeezing too hard.
......
Stay hydrated !!!! 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 Tag (np), I wanna see your OCKISS 2025 :
AKA Writing share and so on and It HAS been a while since the last one!
********
Thank you so much for tagging me 🙏🙏🙏 :
@orphanheirs for writing share tag,
@aalinaaaaaa for Seven Sentence Sunday Someday and Writing Share Tag ,
@willtheweaver for Last line/ Writing share/Seven Sentence Sunday Someday super combo
@leahnardo-da-veggie for Last Line tag
******
Rough share of draft zero from.....well, fuck it! 😁, book 2 of my Ashley Knox trilogy
CONTEXT : Ashley meets someone that, without knowing it, gives her interesting information
CW mentions of killing and torture
*****
........
Ashley's eyes went wide : "Jesus Christ…."
While expressing solidarity on the outside about how heart wrenching that must had been, on the inside she was entirely focused to her goal and countered : "What the hell did he do to get that?"
The girl cocked her head, her expression stating she was still committed to tame her sorrow and silence lingered for a moment until : "He messed out the count…"
Ashley was truthfully taken aback for an instant : "That's it? "
"Yes, it was stupid" the girl rushed to say : "They could have simply given him a memorable beating as a lesson but…."
She paused again and swallowed hard, averting glossy eyes, then looked back at Ashley : "Moreno got word about it and…."
At the mention of that name Ashley deadpanned but all hairs stud on end, her whole body tensed to the point to barely register that the other girl kept saying something.
"Moreno…." she stupidly repeated, and the name, coming directly from her personal hell pit left her lips by its own volition.
The girl nodded : "Do you know him?"
You bet I do.
The voice in the back of her head had been right once again.
But Ashley fought back to not let her mind to drift there.
She couldn't afford it right now : "I heard stories…." she half lied.
Didn't want take the risk to give too much information either, all in all she'd just met this girl.
The latter explained : "Miguelito wasn't the only one….so Moreno came down personally to put a stop to 'the mess', he said. Said 'they needed an exemplary lesson', all of them."
Ashley forced herself to snap out completely from her own stupor and asked : "So he tortured them all and kill them?"
Knowing the answer already.
"Yes….Miguelito acted like an idiot but….didn't deserve that." the girl repeated again, shifting the load she was holding on her left side so to free her right hand and brush the beginning of tears at the corner of her eye, in a briskly gesture.
Ashley scanned her memory, drew air in : "When did it happen ? We saw Miguelito not later than one month ago ….."
She needed to bring the girl to talk and barely had a minute to do so.
"Last week " the girl swallowed again : "Moreno came down to [……]"
An icy shiver ran again along Ashley's spine.
"Amaryllis se mueve, hemos terminado" chimed in one of the guys already inside the vehicle.
The girl that now had a name, a pretty one too, flinched : "I have to go"
Back to her usual hermetic coldness but mind already working at high speed Ashley pulled up once again the bandana to cover her face and locked eyes with her : "I have to come to [......] soon for a work" she lied : "Maybe I'll see you around then."
A slightly surprised expression crossed Amaryllis's face but her companion's voice broke in again, harsh tone : "¡mover!".
She gave back a micro nod and rushed back to join her group.
Looking at them leaving, wheels spreading a wave of dust and sand, Ashley's mind was already on planning the next move.
She barely noticed Jamie's walking closer.
"Someone you like ? " he inquired in a mocking tone.
Ashley snapped out and frown at him : "What? No….Shut up!"
She gave him a cold look and turned her back to him, directed to their truck.
What she had in mind was definitely not something she's gonna share with him, now or never.
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Due to many reasons tumblr has been "quiet" recently.....But I decided to share some writing and art anyway and call others to do the same. Let's take this space back 😉
🦐 (The shrimps are especially dedicated to @lychhiker btw 😁- you're also tagged/NP) 🦐
First some art.....drawing Ashley Knox will be the death of me though.
Writing and video under the cut
For book two (yes, two!) of Ashley Knox's trilogy , draft very zero
******
At first Herrera had thought of the classic ghost.
"That's it, I'm loosing it…" he had said to himself spotting a bright blond curly head and piercing blue eyes staring at his soul directly from the past.
He had never forget that girl.
Every now and then he had speculated about where she could have ended up and and every time, he couldn't help it, he had shaken his head because, let's face it, it was unlikely it would had been a good place.
By Herrera's experience it couldn't possibly be.
And yet…..there she was.
She had got taller, her face had lost all childish features, blond hair longer down to the shoulders, stance more athletic and firm.
The scars on her face, well visible, had healed since.
The present vision overlapped the one from the past but for the icy quality of her eyes that had hunted Herrera since they first met.
Those stayed the same.
Herrera couldn't help it but blink, smitten by stark contrast between her striking aesthetic and what's left of her wounds.
But most of all he felt a strange kind of relief flooding through his veins.
Like some of the hopes he didn't know he had up until that very moment had been fulfilled.
He didn't realize he had spoken out loud until Ashley scoffed, flashing a half grin : "Hi Chief….Do you remember me?"
They both knew it was a rhetoric question.
......
*****
Digital art version that I'm not entirely happy about how it did work out in the end but....oh well.
Working on the first pencil version in a old fashion way
@alinacapellabooks HERE , @tragedycoded HERE , and
@wyked-original-writing HERE
You're also tagged !! 💋💋
*****
This is more a general update as I reached a point in The Scarred Angel where I HAVE to tied up a few things before going further.... Truth of the last couple of months 🙄
The time for scenes and notes hapardazly written everywhere is OVER ! (Half joke and also LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL)
More seriously : I want to make sure I don't drop everything which will be a huge disappointment for several reasons.
ramble/snippet/art under the cut
Ashley would kick my ass / won't leave me alone if I do so (I know this for a fact)
I spent enough time already on TSA (summer 2023 since the first idea came up + about summer 2024 since actively working on it
The initial idea and characters still have reason to exist
Thing is :
It's the first time I work something this "complex" (?).... aka : I've done, I'm doing and I'll do again many "ERRORS" along the way. (Oh wait! Such goes life.....)
I really need an OUTLINE at this point, even a gross one!
I have an entire first arc of 6 zero draft chapters plus several others (the current wc is between 60000 and 70000 words)
BUT most importantly : I feel the need of keep specific and steady angles to write MY story NOT someone's else.
Those same angles that made me start in the first place.
And apparently, rn, I have to dig and put them on my board to better keep an eye on it among the mass of infos, researches, things that need to happen, characters development, various other ideas .....+ all the interesting imputs I see around and along the way every day!
Additional note : my mother, that knows nothing about what I'm writing , just sent me a letter from Claudia Sheinbaum, actual mexican president, especially dedicated to "Mr DT" and "Mr EM" from "the rest of the world".
You can find the note on the internet and since a lot of TSA PLOT is about INFORMATION.....guess what? The letter slaps but we're not entirely sure she said so for real 😉
STILL .... it would be awesome if she did and since one of the main inspiration quotes for TSA is "everything happens for a reason", fuck yes, I'll take this as a sign too!
....To be continued.....
****
SNIPPET....
Back to the actual chp 1, draft zero, "Amy on the border"
....
My heart skips another beat.
Phil feared it was too soon yet, that I might not be ready to handle the new environment.
Probably me stopping the meds didn't help him accepting my initiative but it hasn't be a problem for my chief editor who doesn't know anything about me.
Rather the opposite way around, no way I could have missed how much they were happy about someone volunteering for the assignment.
I'm a newbie in this line of work, just two months since I toke the job, and they accepted nonetheless to send me to cover about the challenging task the local police department must face every day in this powder keg that is THE border.
No kidding.
There is always something going on here, endless supply material for many and many articles.
'Same old, same old' is what I heard at the office among other casual comments and still, keeping an 'attentive eye' upon the border situation it's considered a must, so that when something significant seems to come up they do actually send a 'soldier on the battlefield' in order to get first hand information.
I'm nowhere near close to have my own opinion on the matter but I basically threw myself on the opportunity.
.........
ART
Amy doesn't know yet but Ashley's already out there ....
Tag NP and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 let me see what you got
