Worldsmith

However, one question has always burned in the core of my being since my earliest days, and it is for this reason that I have come to this far-off world. The question? That in and of itself is a small tale. I believe I was 15 cycles old at the time. Hah. How young. My psionic crystals had just grown in and my toxin sacs were constantly full. Such a time of adventure where every stray thought caught in my receptor was prized upon as a shining treasure. Alas.

We were on a science vessel for an educational trip, headed to a small biological preserve, and it was there that an interesting…quirk of the universe was revealed to us. A bored-looking Shalui grasped a small, mammalian animal in it’s numerous manipulator tendrils, stroking it’s short black fur with one while gently supporting it with the other six. 

“This life-form is a warm blooded, fur-possessing, carbon based quadruped belonging to the genus Helyne. Though many species exist under the genus of Helyne, all species are capable of successful mating with one another, producing viable offspring. Furthermore…” the Shalui instructor droned on, but we had long ago stopped paying attentions. Kaits, as they were called in our language, were admittedly adorable, but they were also everywhere. Our family took care of three. Why were we being told about something as basic as this?

My question was soon answered, though I had not voiced it with vocal or psionic activity.

“Though a generally agreeable type of life, no one would call the Heylne line particularly noteworthy. Steadfast companions, to be sure, but utterly common in ability and makeup. However,” our instructor mused for a moment as one manipulator tendril splayed open to gently caress the fuzzy cheeks of the animal. Seemingly caught up in the affectionate motion, he hastily continued. “there’s one exceptional thing about the Heylne.”

Silence, other than the contented vocalizations from the kait in his hands. 

“Across every star system we have reached, every world we have annexed, every regrettable war we have fought, one constant remains true. The genus Helyne. If you’re unaware of the significance of that…Vespir. Come here, if you would, young lord.” My features must have betrayed my rapt attention. I rose, not breaking sitting posture, enveloped in a blue shroud of psionic energy. Regarding me for a moment, the instructor whispered something into my mind and I nodded.

At the Shalui’s request, I unfurled my six slender legs, letting their scything tips gently click against the metal floor. It was considered rude for an Espiri to walk using their legs in spaces that were not their own and instead we moved with our psionic power once we were capable. Our legs were strong and slender, beautiful in a way, but had evolved as tools of fierce locomotion and terrifying weapons of predation. Not suitable for a civilized society. 

I now stood directly next to the Shalui instructor. Our races had come into their own on the same planet, in the same biomes. We fought and killed for thousands of cycles, until we abandoned the hatreds of our past and formed the Empire some seventeen thousand cycles ago. I understood the point my instructor was trying to make then and there. 

For living on the same planet, eating the same food, and adapting to the same circumstances, our races couldn’t be more physically different. Shalui were, to put it basically, a walking bundle of tentacles that had adapted to different tasks. That was a gross oversimplification, but enough to illustrate the point. Their faces were a gently pulsating mass of thin, gorgeous lines that fluctuated and reformed to make expressions. Espiri found them especially attractive when they were angry. On the other hand, an Espiri was a basic head-torso-limbs situation. Six legs, two arms, a slender build throughout. We possessed chiseled skulls, angular and almost geometric. As we aged, psionic nodes grew through our bodies, allowing us to manipulate our surroundings and communicate without talking. 

So how had the kait, or rather, the Helyne spread all the way across our galaxy and remained so ubiquitous? Simply living in a different hemisphere provided interesting variations of life, not to mention the extreme changes regarding the long timelines and unique challenges facing evolutionary growth on entirely new planets. 

From that day I knew. It was no accident, no random occurrence. Someone, or something, had seeded all worlds with this spark of life. Perhaps a great progenitor race, brilliant and wise in their infinite ages. For the next 250 cycles, I rose through the ranks of society, becoming Radiant Prime to Her Burning Will. Our light shone across the galaxy, illuminating the darkest corners, seeking answers lost to the scourges of war and time. 

I found it. At the edges of the Empire, on the fringes of civilized society, I found it. That progenitor-world I dreamed of as a youth, and chased voraciously. I devoured every scrap of knowledge from every single sentient race we came across until I had the pieces in my hands, and could only follow them to their conclusion. We had no designated name for the planet, but radio wave blasts recorded millennia gave me a moniker. Earth. A curious planet. Holding orbit, I gathered data with my war-frame, perusing imagery of the surface. I glowered at the feeds. There was nothing here. Perhaps once, long ago, some 150,000 cycles ago, there was a spacefaring civilization. But it had gone, and all that remained was the peaceful husk of massive tower, gleaming near the equator. Faint traces of technology were visible in the scans, including what looked to be a data repository based on the banks of crystal lattices buried in the earth. The tip of the tower looked like it once contained a massive payload, presumably ejected long ago into starspace.

Activating the anti-grav psions in the flux core, I descended on the “Earth.” I had built a communications cipher using their ancient radio blasts, capable of translating their Eyglishe and Khainese to our native tongue. The spire was wholly consumed with vegetation, but the structure was built to last. Perhaps a final monument to a species that encountered too many genetic flaws to continue. Perhaps a world grave, built by conquerors. Perhaps…simply an entertainment center. I had no way of knowing. 

Granting the space due reverence, I left the metallic shell of my war-frame and glided across the verdant flora that covered every inch. Holding one arm out in front of me, a holographic display popped to life, and augmented my vision. The data told me “down”, and so I descended from daylight into darkness. 

Time was nigh-meaningless on this star, but I felt the moments slip away from me. The holographic display indicated a passing of a thirty-sixth of a rotation before I reached the presumed data repository. It went without saying that there was no power, but our civilization was great in it’s foresight and technology, especially in regards to discovering secrets of the past. From a canister I produced an adaptive nanopolymer and a universal hardline connector to the solar power bays of my war-frame. After clearing off the console that was connected to the crystal lattices, I carefully poured the polymer over the console and watched it think for a fraction of a moment before shaping into a plug for the connector. 

I was finally here. Ready to learn the secrets of the past. 250 cycles in the making for me, but how much longer for the brave spirits that undertook this before me? I, Vespir, Radiant Prime, stood on the precipice of fate and prepared to be illuminated. 

The console flicked to life. A holographic display of an Earth native seemed to spin in place, surprised, before looking up at me. It appeared female, with a thick mane of black keratin descending from it’s round skull. It wore garments of black over it’s leggings and torso, accentuated with a coat of white. It’s skin was an attractive dark olive colouration - most likely a defense against the somewhat strong ultraviolet radiation. It’s two eyes - front facing, predatory and keen, decorated in lavish black frames - centered on me for a long moment.

It laughed, loudly. Audio boomed through the undisturbed halls. This was a vocalization of joy? Despair? Displeasure? 

“Holy shit, you’re kinda fuckin’ ugly man.” The hologram said, adjusting the frames on it’s skull, as if to see me better. It was a hologram. It did not need to perform this action to see me better. The translation was instant, and I understood the words, but I could not help my disbelief. The Earth-form continued. 

“Well, I say ugly, but that’s from my viewpoint. Biologically, god damn you’re fucking beautiful. Look at those legs! And you’re not even using ‘em! Wow. Those crystals? Is that some sort of psychic waveform generation? Jesus. Wish the actual me was around to meet you.” The hologram mused on as I regained my composure.

“I am Vespir, Earth-form. Radiant Prime of Her Burning Will. Who are you?” The earth-form tapped a digit to it’s lips before speaking.

“I’m Emma, uh, a human being. I’m the…brilliant…researcher of a super long dead civilization! Like, 180,000 years dead according to the data I’m getting just now and oh god that’s pretty depressing. I’m also a mind scan, so I’m really not even Emma. But hey, close enough, right big guy?” Sadness touched upon my mind, and I identified this feeling as my own. Waking up from an eternal slumber to find your existence to be unreal and your species gone. 

“I apologize for this intrusion, and for disturbing your much deserved rest. However…” I trailed off “Emma-Uh, I must kno-” In my excitement, I realized I had descended and splayed my legs out on the ground, so that I was supporting my own weight. My psionic nodes pulsed an embarrassed blue, and I retracted my legs, floating once more.

“Cute.”

“I….?”

“You were so excited you had to actually stand.” She was uncanny in her intelligence, noting my apprehension at using my legs in this space. I admired it.

“It was…not a deliberate action, this much is true. Regardless. I’m afraid I really must ask a question of you, before I return you to your vigil.” Emma-Uh seemed to regard me for a moment before she shrugged.

“Shoot, but I’m gonna give you a condition if you want my answer to whatever it is you hauled your alien ass out here for.” Her stance seemed aggressive. A power play, for sure, but it could not be contested. She held the correct cards, and I was surely performing a disservice to her by practically waking the dead.

“Agreed. What do you wish?”

“Take me with you.” She didn’t miss a beat. Bending down at the waist, she touched the non-existent ground and stood back up. “You’ve got some pretty amazing technology to interface with some old human junk this easily. You’ve obviously got a ship with some mode of faster-than-light travel if you’re here by yourself. You also have freakin’ psychic powers. I’m sure you can build me some kind of hot robot body in exchange for whatever priceless knowledge you want from little old me. Old, old, old me.” 

To say I was floored would be an understatement. But I could not refuse. Brash and vulgar, but possessed of a keen intellect, Emma-Uh could be a fantastic asset to our Empire. There was also something else.

Empathy. Guilt. I woke her into a quiet and unmoving world where she was the last of her kind. In that moment, she was thrust into the future and found out she was the digital ghost of a long dead woman. To say I felt reprehensible would to understate the matter. 

“Glowing spider dude, just let me see the stars, come on. I’ll tell you anything.” Her voice pierced my mired thoughts.

“…Agreed.”

“So what did you wanna know?”

I considered heavily for a moment, before I asked the question.

“What…are kaits? Helyne? Why are they on every habitable planet? Why are they such a constant?” The translator that met our words halfway formed these into the words she knew. Her eyes went wide and she laughed, laughed so hard she cried, falling down onto an invisible ground and rolling around.

“Cats? Oh dude, it worked? It fucking worked! Dude!” She yelled loudly, staring up at the forested ceiling. It was a long moment before she spoke, holographic eyes glazed over in remembrance. 

“Well, our civilization was dying out, we never mastered faster than light travel on a scale big enough to move colony ships. Just tight-beam information blasts. Everyone else was gone, and I was here, alone. The real me, not this spooky Microsoft ghost. It was just me and Ike, my pet. And I was like, ‘gee, Emma, aren’t cats great?’ So I…well. I kinda took a sample of Ike and ran it through a profiler, and I made a million, million variations of that double helix, and…I blasted that information into the great void. I really just thought, ‘wouldn’t it be neat if everyone could have a cat, even when all the humans are gone?’ It’d be a shame if the best thing about Earth couldn’t be shared with the stars.”

Confusion and a strange joy welled in my core. It was a longer moment before I spoke, deploying a data-probe into the console as I did. It activated a prompt for Emma-Uh to respond to as I did. The prompt read, “Accept transfer?”

“So…you, blasted a genetic information wave to the entire galaxy, seeding countless stars with Helyne data, because you thought ‘cats’ were great?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” Emma-Uh nodded as she tapped the prompt, slowly transferring into the war-frame’s vast databanks. I spoke to the warm darkness ahead of me, unsure if Emma-Uh would hear my words. They needed to be said anyway.

okay so look

this is painfully long

because i am an idiot

who thought “let’s do one thing for each prompt” because i couldn’t figure out how to put the two of them together

so uh

i apologize. i’m so sorry this took so long, and is so long.

Apollohas many sons.

He onlyever has nine daughters.

~

He hashis first when he’s young, too young to know better.

Daphneis beautiful and coy, and leads him on a merry chase. He catches her, and finallysilences her laughing mouth with his own. They sleep together, and she leavesbite marks up his neck.

Herfather, the river god Peneus, finds out about them. Apollo had not known it wassecret. Peneus is a hard, selfish god, and he slits Daphne’s throat for herimpurity. Better a dead daughter then one who does not listen.

Apollofinds out too late. He arrives to Daphne dead on the side of her father’sriverbank, stomach swollen in a way Apollo doesn’t remember it being the lasttime he saw her, which was – which was – it couldn’t have been that long, couldit?

He cutsopen her stomach, throat too tight to call for his sister’s help, heart tootight to bear anyone else looking at Daphne’s slack, bloody face.

Thechild is still warm.

Thechild is still alive.

Hecannot bring himself to bury Daphne, to sentence her to an afterlife beneaththe earth. Instead, he transforms her into a large laurel tree, so her beautywill remain eternal. He presses a hand against her trunk and says, “My hairwill have you, my lyre will have you, my quiver will have you.” Apollo looksdown at the baby, too small, tucking into the crook of his arm. “Our daughterwill have you.”

Hecalls her Calliope. Their daughter weaves laurel leaves into her hair every dayof her life.

~

When heis older, but not wiser, he gets drunk on the top of Olympus. It is not thefirst time, nor the last, but this time it is different.

Thistime Hestia, goddess of the hearth, of warmth, of family, places her delicatehand around the back of his neck and leads him to her rooms.

Monthslater, he lands his chariot, the sun finally set. His arms are shaking, and hislegs are covered from burns when the sun grew tired and tried to consume him,but could not. Hestia stands before him, something held in her arms. “What’swrong?” he asks roughly, throat dry and the skin of his lips cracking. Hestiararely leaves Olympus.

“I amno mother,” she tells him, and he doesn’t understand until she places a warm,squirming bundle in his arms. He holds it to his chest automatically. “Her nameis Terpsichore.”

Sheleaves before he has the chance to question her. He looks down, and the babyhas his golden eyes and her dark hair. “Hello, little one.”

Calliopeis fully grown now. Apollo leaves Terpsichore in her care, and promises to comewhen called.

“Yes,Father,” Calliope says, rolling her eyes as her little sister grabbing fistfulsof her curly hair. There’s an ink smudge across her face, and her home isbursting with books. He should really talk to Athena about letting Calliope useone of her libraries.

Hekisses both their foreheads before leaving.

~

Apollofalls in love with a Spartan prince, graceful and strong and with a wide,pretty mouth. He falls in love with a mind that can match him, with a smilethat leaves him breathless. Hyacinth captures his affections and attentionsutterly, and for a few short years Apollo is enchanted, for a few short yearsApollo feels a love deep in his chest that is only surpassed by the love he hasfor his sister.

ThenHyacinth is killed.

Heshows up at his daughters’ door, and Calliope and Terpsichore take one look athim and usher him inside. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he’s covered inblood that isn’t his own, is pale and shaken and mourning.

Theyclean him and care for him and settle him to bed, although he cannot bringhimself to sleep.

Lessthan a week later, there is a mortal woman there looking for him. Her eyes arered, but she stands tall and her lips are pressed into a straight line. Atoddler who shares her dark coloring clutches her skirt. “I am the Princess ofSparta, and wife of Hyacinth.”

Apollohadn’t known Hyacinth had a wife. He hadn’t asked. Surely he would have noticed– but then again, perhaps not. Love makes people stupid. “I am sorry for yourloss.”

“As Iam sorry for yours,” she says in return, which surprises him. “Sparta must havea prince. I am to be remarried.” She brings the little girl forward, and shecan’t be more than a couple years old. “This is Urania, the child of myself andmy husband. I have been ordered to kill her.”

Apolloflinches. He knows such things are done, but – she is Hyacinth’s daughter. “Iwill take her.”

Shesmiles. “I thought you might.” She kisses the girl on both cheeks, hands her toApollo, then leaves as quickly as she’d came.

Uraniawatches them with big liquid eyes that she got from her mother. He stays withhis daughters for a year after that, playing with Urania and watchingTerpsichore dance and listening to Calliope’s beautiful poetry. Urania lovesthe stars. She stares up at them each night, and Apollo patiently explains thename of each one.

Whenshe is fully grown, he begs a piece of ambrosia off Hestia and feeds it to her.

Uraniais his daughter as surely as if his blood ran through her veins. He cannot bearto watch her age and die.

~

Marpessachooses Ida over him, but it is too late. She already swells with his child,and he could use that to keep her. He could force her to stay at his side, sheloves him, she said so, it would not be such a cruel thing.

But sheis not wrong in her assessment. Apollo is immortal, and will not grow old withher, will not change with her, will not die with her. Ida will.

There’sfear on her face, and he thinks she deserves it, for proclaiming to love himand choosing another. But he is not interested in keeping her captive for alifetime.

“Havethe child, and give it to me,” he commands, “and I will leave you to yourlife.”

Ida isfurious in his jealousy that Marpessa will bear a child for Apollo before shebears a child for him, so there is that comfort, at least.

Artemisdelivers the child to ensure it goes smoothly. She’s beaming as she holds herniece. “What will you call her?”

“Youchoose,” he says, running the back of his finger over the babe’s soft cheek.

Hissister considers the squalling child for a long moment before she says, “Ithink you should name her Thalia.”

“Thaliait is,” he says.

She’smischievous, and reminds him of himself on his worst days. She grows, and pullspranks on nymphs and deities. Her older sisters are constantly straining tokeep her out of worse trouble.

He getsa frantic message from Calliope that Thalia has gone missing, and he eventuallyfinds her at the edge of a scorched battlefield, the soldiers long gone but thebodies and stench remaining. He’s furious at her for going to a place sodangerous, but when he marches up to her he sees something that he hadn’texpected.

She’s hallwaythrough a story about pranking a wood nymph that he knows is at least half liesand a quarter exaggeration. Curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach ashe laughs so hard he can’t breathe, is Ares.

Apollohasn’t seen the tormented god of war this carefree since he was a child.

Thaliafinally notices him, and cuts herself off, paling. “Oh, uh. Hi Dad.”

Ares isdownright giggling. “Hello Thalia,” Apollo crosses his arms and glares,“You shouldn’t go wandering away from your sisters.” She winces and nods,ducking her head to look up at him through her eyelashes, doing her best tolook contrite and innocent.

Itmight have worked, if Apollo hadn’t taught her that look himself.

He sitsdown on the ground next to Ares, who doesn’t acknowledge his presence beyondshifting enough to use Apollo’s thigh as his pillow. “Well,” Apollo says, “keepgoing.”

Thalialights up and launches back into the story, and when she finishes she continuesinto another which is mostly true and somehow even more ridiculous.

~

Becausehe’s an idiot with a death wish, Apollo ends up spending a monthwith Hecate in the underworld. He stumbles out one night when she falls asleep,because he feels if he doesn’t leave now there’s a possibility that he neverwill.

One ofthe most horrifying moments of his life is looking for the way out, and findingHades instead. The god of death looks to him, walking around naked in hisrealm, to the direction he came from, and says, “That was you? Are youcrazy?”

“It …it was a good time,” he says faintly.

“Obviously,”Hades shakes his head, and slices his hand down in the air in front of them,creating a doorway for Apollo out of his realm.

Apollogives him a clumsy salute and steps through.

Roughlya year later, he’s playing his lyre when a little girl with black skin and greyhair and eyes appears in front of him. It’s terrifying enough that heaccidentally snaps one of his strings.

“LadyStyx,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal. “Is there something I canhelp you with?”

Thechild snorts and reaches her hands into absolutely nothing and pulls outa baby. She holds it out to him. “Hecate says this is your problem now.”

Improbably,the babe already has a mouth full of too-sharp teeth. Her eyes shift betweenevery color, unable to decide, and there is something a little too knowingabout her face for one so young. Artemis says he too was born knowing too much.

A childof Apollo and Hecate can only be a mistake, something that will never fit quitewell among others of her own kind.

Hesighs and take the baby. “Very well.”

“I likethe name Clio,” the child goddess says before leaving him.

Thaliatells him it’s too small and to give it back. Urania is fascinated, and takesover most of the child’s care, which is likely for the best since Calliope isneck deep into a new epic, and would be cross if she needed to pull herattention from it to rear a child.

As Clioages, she stays just as unsettling and strange. Hephaestus shows up around thetime she starts breaking into Athena’s libraries, even though stunts like thatget people worse than killed. “I don’t know why she gave her to me,” Apollosays as they watch the teenager devouring a stolen tome on the history of thePersian Empire. “Hecate raised you, I don’t understand why she didn’t want toraise her actual daughter.”

“You’rea better parent than she is,” he says thoughtfully. Apollo gives him anunimpressed look, but he says, “I’m serious. Your girls are turning out to bequite lovely – all of them.”

“Ofcourse they are,” he says, nose in the air, but grins when Hephaestus elbowshim the side.

By thetime she’s an adult, Clio is easily one of the most accomplished scholars toever exist. She and Athena regularly get into academic debates that last weeks,and scare off anyone from daring to come closer.

Shestays strange, and too smart, and Apollo loves her utterly.

~

Apollois lying on the beach when a large wave overtakes him and drags him into thesea. He struggles for the surface, but can’t seem to shake the waves, and isdragged to the sea floor. He’s a god, so he won’t suffocate, but he’s terrifiedwhen the water drags him down to Poseidon’s palace and deposits him in front ofhis wife. “Apollo,” she says, “I can see what your daughters will become.”

He hasno idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

Amphitritegrabs his jaw and pulls him closer. He doesn’t dare resist. She looks into hiseyes, then smirks. “The god of prophecy doesn’t know that which he has wrought.How … ironic.”

“Isit?” he wonders. He really hopes she doesn’t kill him.

“Quite,”she smirks, and with a flick of her wrist she’s naked before him. “I wish forone of your daughters to be mine as well. Lay with me.”

“Uh,”he says eloquently, because Amphitrite has never given her husband anychildren, he hadn’t even known she could. If he sleeps with her, Poseidon mightkill him, regardless of how many people the god of the sea sleeps with thataren’t his wife. But if he refuses her, shemight kill him, and it’s not like having sex with Amphitrite is any sort ofhardship. She’s as gorgeous as she is terrifying. “Okay.”

He’sdeposited back on the shore the next day, feeling oddly used.

IfPoseidon has any opinions on Apollo knocking up his wife, he doesn’t voicethem.

Amphitritedoesn’t foist the baby upon him as soon as she’s born. Instead years pass, andone day a dark skinned, amber eyed sea god shows up at his door. There’s ateenager at his side, who has Apollo’s coloring and Amphitrite’s bonestructure, and hair that shimmers golden-green in sunlight. “Glaucus,” Apollogreets warily, “and who might this be?”

“I callher Erato,” Glaucus says, “I’ve raised her since birth. It’s time for her tojoin her sisters.”

Eratois not as terrifying as her mother. Instead there’s a sweetness about her thatshe must have gotten from Glaucus. She’s shy at first, and spends many dayslooking out into the sea. But his daughters are persistent, and soon she’slaughing and joining them. There’s something dreamy about her, and she loveslove, writes romantic ballads and beautiful poems, so much so that Aphroditecommends her talent.

Eratois also the most like him in the area of her love life, meaning she leavesbehind a constant trail of heartbroken men and women.

Calliopecomplains about the constant wailing around their home, and Clio proves she hassome of her mother’s talent with magic when she casts an unplotable spellaround their home so former lovers stop following Erato home. Of course, sheforgets to tell both Apollo and her sisters about this, and it’s very confusingfor everyone until Clio remembers to tell them where the house is.

Hisdaughters’ home is a place of constant music, poetry, and literature. He thinkshe’s starting to suspect what Amphitrite was talking about.

~

Not allhunts are easy things.

Apollofeels the moment his sister is wounded, the arrow through her abdomen aspainful for him as it is for her. He’s in his chariot, and he can’t leave it,if he leaves his chariot unattended the sun will consume it, and then consumethe earth. “Calliope!” he snaps, and his eldest daughter appears by his side.

“Father?”she asks, huddling into him and away from the sun. “What’s going on?”

“Artemisis hurt, I have to help,” he says urgently, and places the reins into herhands. “You can do this.”

Shepales, but steps forward, keeping a white knuckled grip on the chariot. “Go.”

Hekisses his forehead, and goes to his sister. Her huntresses have set up anhonor guard around her, defending and dying as cruel faced giants draws closer.“ARES!” he screams, and he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for, what thiswar is about, but it doesn’t matter. “WE NEED YOU!”

The godof war appears, and he’s clearly come from some other battle, covered in mudand other worse things. He throws himself into the battle, but it’s not untilthey gain more aid that the tides turn in their favor.

Hefirst sees Erato on the field, water swirling around her as she slices throughthem all, the power of her mother making her golden eyes glow. Clio is at herback, the glittering magic Hecate passed on to her filling her hands.

Thaliahas long curved knives flying from her fingers, and all who face her don’tfigure out they’re dead until she’s already left them behind. Urania is lettingloose arrows against the giants and though she’s not his by blood, not agoddess by birth, none would know it watching each of her arrows hit true andtake down another enemy.

Terpsichoreuses her honed abilities of dance differently here on the battlefield, twirlingand ducking around enemies with her sword flashing as it slices through all whogo against her. Celestial fire licks up the sword, and the daughter of Hestiaand Apollo is laughing as she dances through the battlefield.

Hewants to yell at them, to tell them to get off the battlefield, to get tosafety. But it is thanks to them that the fight is being won, so he saysnothing.

Areslooks around, grimaces, and catches Apollo’s eye before he disappears from thebattle. They must be invoking his name. Apollo is only grateful he managed tostay as long as he did.

Thegiants are all dead by the time Apollo manages to make it to his sister’s side.She’s pale and covered in blood, her huntresses seated around her and trying tostop the bleeding. “What were you thinking?” Apollo demands, grabbing her handand pushing her hair from her forehead. Terpsichore comes forward and lays herburning sword against the wound, sealing and cauterizing it at once. BothApollo and Artemis scream

“They –took – a – child,” she pants, leaning in for his touch, for his comfort, and hehas never been able to deny her anything. He pulls her up, biting back a screamat the pain that rips through them both, and props her up against his chest. “A– nymph’s child. Zeus’s child. They killed – it’s mother. That – that sort ofinjustice will – will not be – tolerated.” She lays her head back against hisshoulder, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Apollo almost wishesthe battle were not over, because he wants to murder something.

“I’llget it,” Erato says, and a moment later she returns with a toddler in her arms.She has the copper skin of Zeus, and pale blonde hair. “What do we do now? Zeusdoes not care for his children.”

“Ithink it’s time you became a big sister,” Thalia says, and Erato looksstricken. “Right Dad?”

Helooks to his sister, who nods. “I can think of no better place for her. Shecannot stay with me – a hunting party is not place for children.”

“Verywell,” he sighs. “Does she have a name?”

Thegirl attempts to hide behind Erato’s hair, then says, “I am Euterpe.”

“Welcome,Euterpe,” he says.

It’sthen that the sun finally sets, and Calliope stumbles into existence next tothem. She’s covered in deep, bleeding burns, but it’s not as bad he feared it wouldbe. She’s certainly faired better at her first time driving the chariot than hehad. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“Wehave a new sister,” Thalia says brightly, even as Clio rushes forward to tendto her burns.

Euterpe,thankfully, seems to inherit none of Zeus’s madness. She has a singing voicelike a clear bell, and soon surpasses even Calliope’s talent with the lyre.

Heknows, technically, that Euterpe is his half-sister. But it takes him no timeat all to regard her as his daughter, to love her with same simple ferocity as heloves her sisters.

~

For awhile, all is well, is quiet. His daughters are all fully grown, accomplishedand beautiful.

ThenDemeter corners him when he’s walking through quiet city and pins him againstan alley wall. “If Amphitrite thinks she can one up me over this,” the goddesshisses, “she’s sorely mistaken.”

Atleast this time he knows what’s going on when Demeter starts pulling her dressoff. “You can’t raise the child,” he says. He’s not adverse to laying withDemeter, although at this rate it looks like there will be less laying and morestanding against a rough alley wall. But Demeter only knows how to love in away that crushes all it touches. He won’t let her do that to his child.

“Fine,”she snaps, “Now get moving.”

He’svaguely terrified the whole time, and it mostly reminds him of his month withHecate. He’s left alone and naked in the alleyway an hour later.

Ninemonths later, a baby is delivered to his door by a nervous wood nymph. Hisdaughter still has the squashed appearance of a freshly born baby. “She didn’twaste any time,” he comments, settling her into the crook of his arms. “Doesshe have a name?”

“Polyhymnia,my lord,” the wood nymph says, then bows before fleeing.

Hebrings her to the home where all his daughters live.

Shegrows, and she’s the spitting image of Demeter, of Persephone back when sheanswered to the name Kore. Her voice is lower than Euterpe’s, but just as prettyand when they sing together it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.She’s quiet, and thoughtful, her big brown eyes watching all around her with ameasured stare.

Polyhymniaasks after her mother, something none of the others had done, and Apollodoesn’t know what to say. The truth is too callous, but he can’t bear to lie toher. Instead he begs an audience with Persephone, and says, “Your sister asksafter the mother you share. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Persephonehas no advice to offer, but she starts spending some of her time outside of theunderworld with Polyhymnia. It is enough, and her questions stop, and Apollotries not to feel guilty that he never really answered them.

~

Cassandrais unlike any woman he’s ever met, unlike any person he’s ever met, and theflames of love and passion burn inside him in a way they haven’t since hisHyacinth died.

She’sbull headed and irritating, and whenever he tries to complain about it Artemisrolls her eyes and his daughters laugh at him. He supposes he’s not doing avery good job hiding that he’s in love with her. Not even from her, because atone point she crossly asks if he’s ever planning to do anything with her, or ifshe should accept the offer from the butcher’s son.

Theydon’t leave her house for five days.

She iscurious, hungry for knowledge, hungrier for it then she is of him. She wants toknow impossible things, wants to be an impossible thing, and so Apollo laughsand takes her hand and says, “I will make you a bargain. I will give you thegift of prophecy, if you will grant me the gift of your hand.”

He’snever take a bride before. He hasn’t wanted to.

Cassandrais screaming and laughing, and she throws her arms around his neck and kisseshim until she’s breathless. He takes it as a yes.

That’swhen everything goes horribly, incredibly wrong.

It’stoo much, all the horror she sees is too much, and Apollo tries to tell her tofocus on the good, to see the happiness of the future. But she can’t, gets toocaught up in too many wars, and she wastes away in front of his eyes even asher stomach swells.

Hetries to take back the gift, tries to save her, but he can’t. It cannot beungiven, and his headstrong, vivacious lover fades before his eyes. He onlymanages to alter it, to change it so no one believes the horrible things she criesto prevent the horror people feel when she looks at them and screams the waythat they’ll die.

Artemishelps deliver their child, but halfway through her face goes pinched andworried, and Apollo knows that Cassandra won’t make it.

“I’msorry,” he weeps, kissing her gaunt face, feeling the sharpness of hercheekbones under his lips, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’twant this to happen.”

Shelooks at him with glassy eyes, barely reacts when Artemis places their child onher chest. There’s a growing pool of blood under her, but she can’t be saved,she will die, here, now.

Apollowonders if she saw this coming.

Sheblinks, and meets his gaze with a sharpness and awareness he hasn’t seen for along time. “She is your last daughter,” Cassandra says, “Melpomene is the lastdaughter you will have.”

Hekisses her, his last chance to do so.

She’sdead before his lips leaves hers.

Apollotries to flee, to run from the claws tearing apart his heart, but Artemisdoesn’t let him. She yanks him back and pushes Melpomene into his arms. “Youcan’t leave,” she says harshly, “She needs you. Your daughter needs you. You’renot allowed to run.”

Hecrumples, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sobs, and hercalloused hand grasps the back of his neck. Melpomene is stuck between them,soft and warm and alive.

Timepasses.

Melpomeneis Thalia’s other half, her best friend, and they do everything together. Herdark hair is a mass of unruly curls just like her mother, her laughter is just likeher mother’s.

She,like her sisters, is his pride and his joy.

~

Apollohas nine daughters

Calliope,who reigns over written epics.

Terpsichore,who reigns over dance.

Urania,who reigns over astronomy.

Thalia,who reigns over comedy.

Clio,who reigns over history.

Erato,who reigns over love poetry.

Euterpe,who reigns over song.

Polyhymnia,who reigns over hymns.

Melpomene,who reigns over tragedy.

Theyare known as the Muses.

gods and monster series, part xxi

(Or, How I Wrote 30,000 Words in 4 Days to Finish a Novel)

Hey there Scriptaccinos! Welcome back to Aunt Scripty’s House of Mayhem, where we’re getting ready for pumpkin lattes, candy corn, and NaNoWriMo! 

People have asked me more than twice about how I manage to be so productive. I work a full-time healthcare job, and yet, in the last year, I’ve created (85+%) or curated (~15%) over 2,000 blog posts, published 3 books, and written at least 200,000 words of personal writing.

I’m not a superhuman. Actually I’m pretty average. And I’ve set myself an enormous personal challenge — write a trilogy of fiction before the end of 2017. While blogging. And helping you all with NaNo.

On the most recent note, I came into October with 18,000 words of a novel written. I wrote the last 30,000 words and finished the project in four days, while answering bucketloads of blog questions (the last 10 days worth of content was also written in that timeframe), contending with a mild fever, and Life Stuff.  Oh–and I’m about 14,000 words into Book 2 already.

I have been accused of being a machine. I assure you that beep boop boo–

….uh oh. Who found my secret pictures?!

And yet the number 1 request from my readers is the desire that I clone myself. If only I were Tatiana Maslany…

You don’t have to do all the things I’ve been doing to hit those levels of productivity. But a lot of you are doing NaNoWriMo, and I want to give you some advice for how to Get It The F*** Done, Mate.

I’m also going to give you the techniques I use and some of the books that I’ve read that are helping me along the way. I’m constantly striving to improve how much work I get done with the same measly 24 hours as anyone else.

Defend Your Time

Everything demands your attention. Work does. Your cuddlemate(s) do(es). Your TV calls to you. YouTube beckons with lures of dancing cats. Tumblr will eat your soul if you allow it to. 

So you need to… [Tumblr Mobile: Read More] 

Repost this. Followers/Readers send numbers to your Ask. You write a fic/drabble using that line in your piece. Have fun! Expect a ton of requests!! 

“That’s starting to get annoying”

“Hey, hey, calm down. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

“You can’t just sit there all day.”

“I’m too sober for this.”

“I’m not here to make friends.”

“I need a place to stay.”

“Well, that’s tragic.”

“You’re seriously like a man-child.”

“You can’t banish me! This is my bed too!”

“The ladies love a guy who’s good with kids.”

“Dear Diary, …”

“She’s hiding behind the sofa.”

“I lost our baby.”

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep.”

“I’d kill for a coffee…literally.”

“You’re getting crumbs all over my bed.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

“What’s the matter, sweetie?”

“You’re Satan.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuse. You can’t just give me wet-willies.”

“I’m bulletproof…but please, don’t shoot me.”

“Did you just hiss at me?”

“Do you really need all that candy?”

“It’s six o’clock in the morning, you’re not having vodka.”

“I swear, I’m not crazy!!!”

“The diamond in your engagement ring is fake.”

“No. Regrets.”

“How drunk was I?”

“How is my wife more badass than me?”

“Be you. No one else can.”

“I haven’t slept in ages.”

“I locked the keys in the car.”

“Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

“You work for me. You are my slave.”

“Take your medicine.”

“They’re monsters.”

“Welcome to fatherhood.”

“Why can’t you appreciate my sense of humor?”

“It’s your turn to make dinner.”

“The kids, they ambushed me.”

“Sorry isn’t going to help when I kick your ass!!!”

“Stop being so cute.”

“I feel like I can’t breathe.”

“You need to see a doctor.”

“You’re getting a vasectomy. That’s final.”

“I was a joke, baby. I swear.”

“Dogs don’t wear clothes!”

“I didn’t think you could get any less romantic…”

“Safety first. What are you? FIVE?”

“This is girl talk, so leave.”

“Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?”

“There’s a herd of them!”

“Do you think I’m scared of a woman?”

“They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

“You’re a nerd.”

“I’m late.”

“Just get home as soon as possible, okay?!”

“You smell like a wet dog.”

“I could punch you right now.”

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“Welcome back. Now fucking help me.”

“If you can’t sleep…we could have sex?”

“Flea markets don’t carry fleas, you know?”

“Here, take my blanket.”

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“How could I ever forget about you?”

“You’re bleeding all over my carpet.”

“Run for it!”

“We need to talk.”

“Not everyone is out to get you. Stop thinking that. It’s annoying.”

“I want a pet.”

“Just smile, I really need to see you smile right now.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Quit beating me up!”

“Please put your penis away.”

“It’s a Texas thing.”

“Don’t argue. Just do it.”

“I hope I’m never stuck with you on a deserted island.”

“Does he know about the baby?”

“Hold still.”

“I just ironed these pants!”

“Enough with the sass!”

“Show me what’s behind your back.”

“I’m not going to be sympathetic until you go to a doctor.”

“Fine, don’t say anything and make me worry.”

“Stay awake.”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME!”

“You’re not interested, are you?”

“I’m not buying ikea furniture again.”

“Tell me you need me.”

“Oh honey, I’d never be jealous of you.”

“I’m telling you. I’m haunted.”

“I had a bad dream again.”

“Have I mentioned, I fucking hate Halloween.”

“It’s Christmas, don’t be mad at me.”

“You’re not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving.”

“The store ran out of Easter eggs.”

“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”

“You can only suffer through my whining for so long until you get up and make me a sandwich.”

i was growing concerned

1.  “That’s starting to get annoying.”

33.  “Are you sure that’s the decision you want to make?”

(tw for threatening someone’s pets?)

“That’s starting to get annoying.”

“Oh, really?” Winn gave the back of Rembrandt’s seat another hard kick. “Wouldn’t’ve -” kick “- guessed -” kick “- it.”

a really neurotic vegetarian vampire 

alice cooper, for no apparent reason

an evil supermodel called miranda goth 

three nine-year-olds climbing mount everest in diving helmets 

the entire population of scotland appearing out of literally nowhere to help defeat the antagonists 

a few people have been asking me to post extracts from this so uh

Table of Contents:

Part One: What’s on the Horizon (a disclaimer) Part Two: Genre Goals and the Science of It All Part Three: The Birth of Stars Part Four: The Birth of Planets Part Five: Multiple-Star Systems Part Six: Types of Planets Part Seven: Determining Orbits Part Eight: Asteroids and Other Debris Part Nine: Moons, Moons, and More Moons Part Ten: How a Planet Gains Seasons & Plotting Environmental Zones Part Eleven: Day/Night Cycles Part Twelve: Surface Features Part Thirteen: Look to the Skies! Part Fourteen: Putting It All Together A Diversion: Contemporary Life in Space Part Fifteen: Further Research and Resources

A list of body language phrases.

I’ve included a very comprehensive list, organized by the type of body movement, hand and arm movements, facial expressions etc. In some cases, a phrase fits more than one heading, so it may appear twice. Possible emotions are given after each BL phrase unless the emotion is indicated within the phrase. (They are underlined for emphasis, not due to a hyperlink.)

Note: I’ve included a few body postures and body conditions as they are non-verbal testimony to the character’s physical condition.

Have fun and generate your own ideas.:-)

Eyes, Brows and Forehead

arched a sly brow:  sly, haughty

blinked owlishly:  just waking, focusing, needs glasses

brows bumped together in a scowl:  worried, disapproving, irritated

brows knitted in a frown: worried, disapproval, thoughtful

bug-eyed:  surprised, fear, horror

cocky wink and confident smile:  over confidence, arrogant, good humor, sexy humor

eyes burned with hatred: besides hatred this might suggest maniacal feelings

eyes flashed: fury, defiance, lust, promise, seduction

eyes rolled skyward: disbelief, distrust, humor

forehead puckered:  thoughtful, worried, irritation

frustration crinkled her eyes

gaze dipped to her décolletage: sexual interest, attraction, lust

gimlet-eyed/narrowed eyes: irritation, thoughtful, mean, angry

gleam of deviltry:  humor, conniving, cunning

kept eye contact but her gaze became glazed: pretending interest where there is none/bordom

narrowed to crinkled slits:  angry, distrust

nystagmic eyes missed nothing (constantly shifting eyes):  Shifty

pupils dilated:  interested, attraction to opposite sex, fear

raked her with freezing contempt

slammed his eyes shut:  stunned, furious, pain

squinted in a furtive manner:  fearful, sneaky

stared with cow eyes:  surprised, disbelief, hopeful, lovestruck

subtle wink:  sexy, humor/sharing a joke, sarcasm

unrelenting stare: distrust, demanding, high interest, unyielding

Place To Place, Stationary Or Posture

ambled away:  relaxed, lazy

barged ahead:  rude, hurried

battled his way through the melee:  desperate, anger, alarm

cruised into the diner:  easy-going, feeling dapper, confident

dawdled alongside the road:  lazy, deliberate delay for motives, unhurried, relaxed

dragged his blanket in the dirt:   sadness/depressed, weary

edged closer to him:  sneaky, seeking comfort, seeking protection, seeking an audience

he stood straighter and straightened his tie:  sudden interest, sexual attraction

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig: demonstrates physical condition – he has to pee

hips rolled and undulated:  sexy walk, exaggerating for sex appeal

hovered over them with malice/like a threatening storm: here it’s malice, but one may hover for many reasons.

hunched over to look shorter:  appear inconspicuous, ashamed of actions, ashamed of height

leaped into action feet hammering the marbled floor:  eager, fear, joyous

long-legged strides:  hurried, impatient

lumbered across:  heavy steps of a big man in a hurry

minced her way up to him: timid, sneaky, insecure, dainty or pretense at dainty

paced/prowled the halls:  worried, worried impatience, impatient, diligently seeking pivoted on his heel and took off:  mistaken and changes direction, following orders, hurried, abrupt change of mind, angry retreat

plodded down the road:  unhurried, burdened, reluctant

practiced sensual stroll:  sexy, showing off

rammed her bare foot into her jeans: angry, rushed

rocked back and forth on his heels: thoughtful, impatiently waiting

sagged against the wall:  exhausted, disappointment

sallied forth:  confident, determined

sashayed her cute little fanny:  confident, determined, angered and determined

shrank into the angry crowd:  fear, insecure, seeking to elude

sketched a brief bow and assumed a regal pose: confident, mocking, snooty, arrogant skidded to an abrupt halt: change of heart, fear, surprise, shock

skulked on the edges of the crowd: sneaky, ashamed, timid

slithered through the door:  sneaky, evil, bad intentions

stormed toward her, pulling up short when: anger with a sudden surprise

swaggered into the class room:  over confident, proud, arrogant, conceited

tall erect posture:  confidence, military bearing

toe tapped a staccato rhythm:  impatience, irritation

tottered/staggered unsteadily then keeled over:  drunk, drugged, aged, ill

waltzed across the floor:  happy, blissful, exuberant, conceited, arrogant

Head Movement

cocked his head:  curiosity, smart-alecky, wondering, thoughtful

cocked his head left and rolled his eyes to right corner of the ceiling:  introspection

droop of his head: depressed, downcast, hiding true feelings

nodded vigorously: eager

tilted her head to one side while listening:  extreme interest, possibly sexual interest

Mouth And Jaw

a lackluster smile:  feigning cheerfulness

cigarette hung immobile in mouth: shock, lazy, uncaring, relaxed casualness

clinched his jaw at the sight:  angered, worried, surprised

curled her lips with icy contempt

expelled her breath in a whose:  relief, disappointment

gagged at the smell: disgust, distaste

gapped mouth stare:  surprised, shock, disbelief

gritted his teeth:  anger, irritation, holding back opinion

inhaled a sharp breath:  surprise, shock, fear, horror

licked her lips:  nervous, sexual attraction

lips primed: affronted, upset, insulted

lips pursed for a juicy kiss

lips pursed like she’d been chewing a lemon rind: dislike, angry, irritated, sarcasm

lips screwed into: irritation, anger, grimace, scorn

lips set in a grim line: sorrow, worried, fear of the worst

pursed her lips:  perturbed, waiting for a kiss

scarfed down the last biscuit:  physical hunger, greed

slack-mouthed:  total shock, disbelief

slow and sexy smile:  attraction, seductive, coy

smacked his lips: anticipation

smile congealed then melted into horror

smile dangled on the corner of his lips: cocky, sexy

smirked and tossed her hair over her shoulder:  conceit, sarcasm, over confident

sneered and flicked lint off his suit: sarcasm, conceit

spewed water and spit: shock

stuck out her tongue: humor, sarcasm, teasing, childish

toothy smile:  eagerness, hopeful

wary smile surfaced on her lips

Nose

nose wrinkled in distaste/at the aroma

nostrils flared:  anger, sexual attraction

nose in the air:  snooty, haughty

Face in General

crimson with fury

handed it over shame-faced

jutted his chin: confident, anger, forceful

managed a deadpan expression:  expressionless

muscles in her face tightened:  unsmiling, concealing emotions, anger, worried

rested his chin in his palm and looked thoughtful

rubbed a hand over his dark stubble:  thoughtful, ashamed of his appearance

screwed up her face:  anger, smiling, ready to cry, could almost be any emotion

sneered and flicked lint off his suit: conceit, derision, scorn

Arm and Hand

a vicious yank

arm curled around her waist, tugging her next to him:  possessive, pride, protective

bit her lip and glanced away:  shy, ashamed, insecure

brandished his fist:  anger, threatening, ready to fight, confident, show of pride

clamped his fingers into tender flesh:  anger, protective, wants to inflict pain

clenched his dirty little fists: stubborn, angry

clapped her hands on her hips, arms crooked like sugar bowel handles:  anger, demanding, disbelief

constantly twirled her hair and tucked it behind her ear:  attracted to the opposite sex, shy crossed his arms over his chest: waiting, impatient, putting a barrier

crushed the paper in his fist:  anger, surrender, discard

dived into the food: hunger, eager, greedy

doffed his hat:  polite gesture, mocking, teasing

doodled on the phone pad and tapped the air with her foot:  bored, inattention, introspection

drummed her fingers on the desk:  impatient, frustrated, bored

fanned her heated face with her hands: physically hot, embarrassed, indicating attraction

fiddled with his keys: nervous, bored

firm, palm to palm hand shake:  confident, honest

flipped him the bird: sarcastic discard

forked his fingers through his hair for the third time:  disquiet/consternation, worry, thoughtful

handed it over shame-faced:  guilt, shame

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig:  physical need to relieve himself

limp hand shake:  lack of confidence, lack of enthusiasm

propped his elbow on his knee: relaxed, thoughtful

punched her pillow:  restless, can’t sleep, angry

rested his chin in his palm:  thoughful, worried

scratched his hairy belly and yawned:  indolent, bored, lazy, relaxed, just waking

shoulders lifted in a shrug:  doubtful, careless discard

slapped his face in front of God and country:  enraged, affronted/insulted

snapped a sharp salute:  respect, sarcastic gesture meaning the opposite of respect

snapped his fingers, expecting service:  arrogant, lack of respect, self-centered

sneered and flicked lint off his suit

spread her arms wide: welcoming,  joy, love

stabbed at the food: anger, hunger, determined

stood straighter and smoothed his tie:  sudden interest, possible sexual interest

stuffed his hands in his pockets: self-conscious, throwing up a barrier

sweaty handshake:  nervous, fearful

touched his arm several times while explaining:  sign of attraction, flattery, possessive

wide sweep of his arms:  welcoming, all inclusive gesture, horror

Sitting or Rising

collapsed in a stupor:  exhausted, drunk, drugged, disbelief

enthroned himself at the desk:  conceit, pronouncing or taking ownership

exploded out of the chair:  shock, eager, anger, supreme joy

roosted on the porch rail like a cock on a hen house roof:  claiming ownership, conceit, content

sat, squaring an ankle over one knee:  relaxed and open

slouched/wilted in a chair and paid languid attention to:  drowsy, lazy, depressed, disinterest, sad, totally relaxed, disrespectful

squirmed in his chair: ill at ease, nervous, needs the bathroom

Recline

flung himself into the bed: sad, depressed, exhausted, happy

prostrated himself: surrender, desperate, miserable, powerless, obsequious, fawning, flattering

punched her pillow:  can’t sleep, anger, frustrated

threw himself on the floor kicking and screaming: tantrum

Entire body and General

body stiffened at the remark:  offended, anger, alerted

body swayed to music:  dreamy, fond memories, enjoys the music

bounced in the car seat, pointing:  excitement, fear, eager

cowered behind his brother:  fear, shyness, coward, desperate

curled into a ball:  sorrow, fear, sleepy, defensive

heart galloping:  anxiety, joy, eager

held his crotch and danced a frantic jig

humped over his cane, each step shaking and careful: pain, aged

inhaled a deep breath and blew out slowly: buying time to find words/thoughtful, reconciled

quick and jerky like rusty cogs on a wheel:  unsure of actions, self-conscious, tense, edgy

rocked back and forth on his heels:  impatient, cocky, gleeful

manhandled the woman into a corner:  bully, anger

slumped shoulders: defeat, depressed, sad, surrender

stiff-backed:  priggish, haughty, affronted

stood straighter and straightened his tie:  sexual interest, wants to make an impression

stooped and bent: aged, arthritic, in pain

stretched extravagantly and yawned:  tired, bored, unconcerned

sweating uncontrollably: nervous, fear, guilt

tall erect posture:  confidence, military bearing

was panting now at:  afraid, exhausted, out of breath, sexual excitement

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4

i was re-reading through this and dang i really need to edit, there are some pretty awful typos and continuity issues.

more babysitting for u nerds

Reblog this so your followers can spam your ask box. Have fun! ♥

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded? 02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness? 03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves? 04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical) 05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type? 06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying? 07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)? 08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it? 09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday? 10. Is your character more feminine or masculine? 11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage? 12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up? 13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker? 14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates? 15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear. 16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like? 17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children? 18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode? 19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily? 20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures? 21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear? 22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have? 23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved? 24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like? 25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day? 26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc? 27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it? 28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for? 29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one? 30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like? 31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what? 32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do? 33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go? 34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc) 35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go? 36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life? 37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them? 38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc? 39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct? 40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others? 41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way? 42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change? 43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self? 44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character? 45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

by Catherynne M. Valente