Category: WIPpets


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HI!!!

How is everyone?

Life got crazy there for a bit. I’m back, though, hopefully consistently.

I’m jumping right in where I left off.

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: last two digits of the year – first digit of the year = 16 – 2 = 14 paragraphs (under 400 words)

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build.

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest.

Tikaleam 5’4ish”, ankle-length, red hair that’s a couple shades lighter than Tai’s and worn in two long braids, rosy cheeks but no freckles, bluish-gray eyes.

Zedeleam 5’5ish”, ankle-length, rich brown hair, also in two long braids, blue eyes, voluptuous hourglass figure, perpetually has the come hither in her eye.

Chishemuk 5’11ish”, long light brown hair, light brown eyes, clearly strong but with a touch of padding.

Necessary Context

  • Tai has just brought Arvid home to meet the family.
  • The women on Tai’s arms are Tikaleam (his sister) and Zedeleam (his ex).
  • Very rough drafty.
  • Chishemuk is currently escorting Arvid. He took advantage of her flimsy command of his language to sneak a double entendre into the conversation.
  • Tai POV.

He looked over his shoulder. As he expected, Chishemuk put his mouth close to Arvid’s ear, almost touching, to whisper something. Arvid’s features remained immobile, betraying none of the disgust she must feel. Right? She disliked Chishemuk’s attention. Didn’t she?

He searched his old list of polite excuses, something to free him from Tikaleam and especially Zedeleam. Nothing brilliant or suave came to mind, not a single bit of pretty nonsense. One practical reason, however, marched to the forefront of his mind like an overzealous patrolman.

“Father?”

Father smiled at him. “Yes, Son?”

“My Lady Arvid and I left the Petsuchos only four days ago, and we traveled on foot.”

Mother gasped. “Taiamuk! You don’t mean you forced that poor girl to keep up that grueling pace.”

Tikaleam slapped his arm, not hard. “Cad.”

“Hmm.” Father’s brows drew together as he studied Arvid. “She doesn’t look tired.”

Taiamuk caught his step-mother’s eye and flicked his gaze toward Father. She caught the hint. “Nonsense. She’s merely being polite. Hold the feast for a day or two, my king. Allow Taiamuk and his guest to recover. I’ll call a servant to see her to a room.”

Chishemuk ran his fingertips up the inside of Arvid’s forearm. Casual smile in place, Taiamuk eased away from Tikaleam and Zedeleam. “Allow me to see to it, as I brought her here.”

He gave them no time to answer. Three long strides put him on Arvid’s right. “Ayrvid, you are tired?”

Three heartbeats passed before she answered. “Yes.”

He understood. The long walk amounted to nothing compared to the crowd of people and the disappointment she felt in failing to greet his father. “Come.” Careful to avoid hurting her, he lifted the hand of her lamed arm and slipped it into the crook of his elbow. He held his smile, but he looked a warning at Chishemuk. “Good night, Chishemuk.”

Chishemuk quirked his brows, then, with a knowing smile, stepped away from Arvid. “Good night, Taiamuk.” He inclined his head toward Arvid. “Ambassador.” His eyes dipped to her weapon belt. When they met Tai’s, they glistened with mischief. “Sleep well, Your Highness.”

I don’t have a picture for this week, but if you have the time, here’s a funny video.

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing
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Happy Wednesday!

How are you? We have craziness going on here, and it shall continue for a time. Yesterday, my elder daughters took off to Boston with their grandparents. 😦 Tomorrow, Beloved takes off for a wedding in another state. 😦 He’ll be back Monday :-D, but the girls will still be away. 😦 When they get back, the grandparents will hang out for a week. Two hours after they depart, my Cali bestie arrives for another week of visiting. Four days after she departs, Beloved’s grandmother and cousin come up for a visit. YIPES!!! Hopefully I’ll make it ’round to visit everyone this week. I’ll try to schedule another WIPpet in there somewhere, otherwise, I won’t show up again until late September.

I’m giving you 2 POV’s in one WIPpet today. Let me know if you think it works.

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: last two digits of the year = 16 paragraphs (under 500 words)

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build.

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest.

Tikaleam 5’4ish”, ankle-length, red hair that’s a couple shades lighter than Tai’s and worn in two long braids, rosy cheeks but no freckles, bluish-gray eyes.

Zedeleam 5’5ish”, ankle-length, rich brown hair, also in two long braids, blue eyes, voluptuous hourglass figure, perpetually has the come hither in her eye.

Chishemuk 5’11ish”, long light brown hair, light brown eyes, clearly strong but with a touch of padding.

Necessary Context

  • I skipped a few paragraphs ahead form the last WIPpet. Arvid tried to find the right salute and failed every time. It was awkward. Someone broke the awkward moment. They’re all going inside now.
  • The women on Tai’s arms are Tikaleam (his sister) and Zedeleam (his ex).
  • Very rough drafty.
  • Mangled for word count and spoilers.

A man with light brown hair fell into step beside her and offered his arm. Arvid glanced ahead at the women attached to Tai and wondered if the man’s offer obliged her to accept. Hoping to avoid another social blunder, she laced her arm through his.

“Thank you,” she murmured, not sure of the etiquette.

“You speak our language?”

“Little.” She pressed her lips into a wry smile for him. “And slow.”

The man smiled in return. “I am Chishemuk Noof,” he spoke loudly and slowly, close to her ear.

His volume made the headache brought on by the stench of the crowd and amplified by the perfume in the gourd-cart hammer against her temples with renewed vigor. She dipped her chin in a miniature salute. “Arvid.”

“Ayrvid.” He rolled the r of her name over his tongue like he wanted to taste it. His eyes trailed down her, pausing at her breasts then fixing on her weapon belt. “Do you know how to use this?” He reached across himself to touch the hilt of her dagger.

Arvid twitched her hip, using the movement to thwack his fingers with the pommel. “Yes.”

Chishemuk yelped and snatched his hand away. He laughed, shook his hand, and leaned closer. “You have skill with your body.”

Like every warrior. She assumed he meant it as a compliment. He meant it as something, though she doubted she wanted to examine his motives. However he intended the comment, it seemed a poor accolade, given how many people it applied to. She looked him over, trying to find something to compliment in return, in case his culture required that. The bejeweled, gold hilt of his sword caught her eye.

“Your sword looks good.”

Chishemuk grinned. He pressed her arm into his side and leaned close to whisper, “It is.”

***

Taiamuk hated leaving Arvid to be escorted by another man. He knew she worried about decorum and his father’s response to her various attempts at greeting him likely undermined her poor confidence. She handled it like a perfect lady, of course, hooking onto Chishemuk’s arm without hesitation.

Tikaleam prattled about everything that happened since he left. He tried to follow, but he kept catching himself listening to Arvid’s conversation with Chishemuk. It took all his self-control not to turn to see what made Chishemuk squawk. He trusted Arvid. She’d make mistakes, yes, but she wouldn’t intentionally give offense. He hoped. Memories of their first days together surfaced to remind him how rude she could be when angry.

He caught her comment about Chishemuk’s sword. True. Chishemuk carried one of the finest swords in the kingdom. He offered it to men and women alike without prejudice. The literal one was well-made, too.

He looked over his shoulder. Chishemuk put his mouth close to Arvid’s ear, almost touching, to whisper something. Arvid’s features remained immobile, betraying none of the disgust she must feel. Right? She disliked Chishemuk’s attention. Didn’t she?

Epée dite de Charlemagne.

Epée dite de Charlemagne.

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing

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I’m back for a second time this month. How have you been this week?

Perhaps by the time this post goes live, I’ll have thought of something more creative to put right here. Whether I have or not, I’m glad to see you and hope you’re doing well. 🙂

Much love to our gracious hostess, Emily Witt.

Math: double the month = 2 x 7 = 14 paragraphs (under 550 words)

Character descriptions:

Arvid 5’6″, dark copper skin, long brown hair, brown eyes, gymnast’s build

Taiamuk 6’3″, long red hair, gray eyes, a multitude of freckles, numerous scars, muscles a la young Jackie Chan. Notable scars include three stab wounds on his right side and a long, horizontal gash across his chest. Owns one piece of clothing: trousers.

Necessary Context

  • Tai’s POV
  • Very rough drafty, oodles of adverbs.
  • Also mangled a bit to avoid spoilers.

“Let us go inside.” Father’s voice cut through the tense moment. “I am preparing a feast because I have my son back.” He enveloped Taiamuk in one of his big hugs then held him at arm’s length. “But how?”

Taiamuk knew his answering smile made him look like a lovestruck teenager, but he made no attempt to cover it. “I’ll show you.”

More questions flew at him. He waved them aside. Nervousness he wasn’t accustomed to mingled with his excitement as he bounded down the stairs without a thought toward dignity. The footman moved to open the carriage door. “Allow me.” He yanked the door open a little too eagerly.

Arvid sat in the dead center of the carriage seat, looking straight ahead with her jaw set. He recognized the expression as the one she wore when she felt compelled to suppress tears. Taming his excitement, he reached in a hand.

Her features snapped into a neutral expression. She handed him his travel pack rather than her hand. He laughed and slung it over his shoulder while she adjusted hers.

Zedeleam laughed, mocking. “Is your traveling companion too frightened to join us, Taiamuk?”

“My travelling companion,” he called back, “fears nothing.” He glanced at Zedeleam’s dress, the latest fashion, no doubt, and entirely unpractical. “But she hasn’t seen your gown, yet.”

Mother and the men burst out laughing. Zedeleam’s smile stayed in place, but her head titled to the right, a sure sign his remark irritated her. She likely forced an army of servants to help her get into that monstrosity when she heard he entered the city.

Tikaleam rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. “You’re home five minutes and already you’re teasing poor Zedeleam. Just like old t—” Her mouth froze open and the laughing stopped.

Arvid had stepped out of the carriage. The crowd took in her silken black hair and dark skin, and then every set of eyes landed on her weapons and widened in shock. Not a single person on the terrace maintained poise. Arvid looked back at them, her face a perfect mask of neutrality and her posture dignified. She saw every detail, he knew, and probably looked for battle strengths and weaknesses out of habit.

He made no effort at hiding his pride when he looked at her. Rather than lifting her hand or offering his arm, as to escort a noblewoman, he wove his fingers with hers, a clear signal to everyone watching. She glanced at him, expression unreadable except for the slight darkening of her cheeks. He doubted anyone else noticed her endearing blush, but he saw it and it gratified him.

“Come, Ayrvid.”

She faced the awaiting crowd and let him guide her up the stairs to his father.  “Your Majesty, may I present the Nairi ambassador, the beautiful warrior who broke my enchantment, who comes to seek our aid in releasing her people from a terrible fate, Ayrvid.” Slower, he said, “Ayrvid, this is my father, leader of our people.”

She wiggled her fingers free of his, crossed her wrists on her chest, knelt on both knees, and bowed with her forehead to the ground. Zedeleam and Tikaleam burst into laughter.

 

To join WIPpet Wednesday…

Holding Hands by KgTheOctopus. Click on the picture to go to the original.

Holding Hands by KgTheOctopus. Click on the picture to go to the original.

  1. Post a snippet of your WIP that relates to the date
  2. Thank Emily Witt
  3. Link up here
  4. Enjoy good writing
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