#Wirteblr
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harrison-abbott · 2 years ago
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Granny took the bairns to the beach.
Right next to the brittle North Sea … but it was 20 degrees outside, on this sunny day, and that was something for this country.
The bairns were all explosive with childish zeal and she hated them for it.
Granny despised her varicose veins less than she did her grandchildren.
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phynewrites · 1 year ago
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Hmmmm...
kooperation1101 has said it's not him and I am compelled to believe him lol
I'mnot sure about enne-uni and ashwithapen I don't think its them.
Writeblr-on-my-own and anonymousfoz is a probable guess, solely because I think they were both interactive with each other (tagging, pinging the other wirteblrs involved) during the course of the countdown..
No one guessing?
None?
How dull.
The writing is going,
writers block creeping in and out; Never going away and causing things stall
Progress is slow, little gets done
But you could had already figured that out
Am I wrong for wanting a little fun?
— Cheshire Cat
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amzngdevil · 2 years ago
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● The Amazing Devil lyrics + fantasy writing ●
[1/∞]
"She pulls right up to my ear and says: whatever you do, don't turn around"
The ghosty voice came along with the icy shiver of the wind behind him. The street was filled with shadows, as if even the moon was scared and used the clouds as a shield. With a deep sigh, he took the advice that was given to him and walk without looking over his shoulder.
He never came back home.
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karkkidoeswriting · 4 years ago
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First one of the give away gifts is ready! She’s Goo Mihee from @contes-de-rheio‘s The Dragons of Jamaedo and I loved drawing all the details! She’s so cool and fierce!
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artisticmind · 4 years ago
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I’m too busy dreaming about you
too busy thinking about you
it doesn’t matter if I’m asleep or awake
you always find a way to get right in there
and you’re not even trying to
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dramaqueeenamby · 5 years ago
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“when are you updating _______?”
“are you ever going to finish ______?”
“what happened to ______?
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pencil-free · 5 years ago
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Red Velvet Cupcakes - Chapter 4
Genre: Romance
Subgrene: Comedy, Warnings: Substance abuse, alcoholism, familial abuse, sexual themes  Intended Audience: (Young) Adult Fiction
“Are you finished making fun of my car?” Leverette asked, and Savill could only shake his head. He was no finished, not at all. In fact, he was just getting stared. There was a lot to make fun of - and Savill had only just begun to point out the things he’d made of fun the last time Levy had driven him around. Such as the headlights he’d so kindly reminded Leverette were still cracked from an unfortunate incident with a rock and an upperclassmen from the year prior. Savill thought it even kinder to not mention the upperclassman this time out of some semblance of politeness nor the night Savill spent with his girlfriend as revenge, either. He did, however, mention the shattered glass was unbearable to look at. As was the faded paint across the hood of the car, the rust speckled on the rims, and the stains that colored the fake leather seats as if even they were attempting to cover up the ugly brown shade.
Read More Here!
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lianabrooks · 5 years ago
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Happy Release Day to CHANGE OF MOMENTUM!!!
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CHANGE OF MOMENTUM is finally here! Oh. My. Gosh.
There were times I thought this book would never actually see the light of day. Not because it was particularly hard to write, but because it’s a beast of a story and editing took FOREVER.
And then I had to wait while pre-orders went up, ARCs went out, reviewers chimed in.
But, today’s the day!
CHANGE OF MOMENTUM is here! It’s here on Amazon! It’s here on Kobo! It’s here at Barnes and Noble! It’s here anywhere you buy books! And it’s there at your local indie bookstore so be sure to support them. And it can be at your local library is you ask.
I don’t know if I can put into words how much I love this book and this couple.
Normally I get a little burnt out on a book before release day. By the time you read the first page I’ve read the book cover-to-cover over fifty times. I’ve spent days pondering the wording of something on page 221. I’ve rewritten certain scenes dozens of times.
CHANGE OF MOMENTUM is a bit different.
It’s not the story I originally planned on writing. The very first draft had Rowena winding up with the grounder, [SPOILER REDACTED], and left Hollis as a side character in the series. I’d written three or four chapters of that, including a fight with Hollis, before I wrote the scene at the end of BODIES IN MOTION where Hollis gives Rowena a knife.
That scene set up potential for so much more conflict, and a much needed redemption arc for both of them.
It also set up a lot of fun scenes for me to write. Rowena and Hollis are delightful to write together. They understand each other. They’ve known each other most their lives. They’ve studied each other, fought each other, tried to kill each other… and there’s a point where even hate becomes a respect, of sorts, for your opponents skills. In the absence of provocation, as hate fades into memory, that respect becomes something else. Not quite friendship. Not yet love. But… something.
I hope you are as utterly delighted by these two troublemakers as I am and that CHANGE OF MOMENTUM gives you a much needed vacation from the troubles of reality
Buy it today in PRINT and EBOOK
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Originally published on www.LianaBrooks.com - second image by @bookbookowl​  
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boardingtheargo · 5 years ago
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I am, I am, I am (after Sylvia Plath)
(For Ari)
I am, I am, I am
tired. The nights are getting
longer but I’m sleeping
less and less.
I am, I am, I am
afraid. There’s a darkness that
feels familiar and eternal, and I can
see it when I look over my shoulder.
I am, I am, I am
silent. I can’t find the
words to express something with
this much weight, pushing
down on me somewhere beyond
my body.
I am, I am, I am
still here. because of
myself as much as
I am, I am, I am
here in spite of
myself.
I am, I am, I am
is the sound of the
human heart. The
pounding pulse of
iambic pentameter. Shakespeare was
written to be spoken because his
language flows from our mouths like
blood through our veins.
I am, I am, I am
trying to hear this sound
anew. Playing it
over and over again to
get through these
long nights, or
shrug off the heavy weight.
I am, I am, I am
listening. To my
body. To my heart, repeating the
refrain:
I am, I am, I am.
I am here. I am still
here and I am trying to
stay here.
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writer-candy · 6 years ago
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My characters and plot making a fool of me
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rokokokokolores · 5 years ago
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s
it’s like the world is
poking with a stick at me
fracturing my thin debris
demanding me to see
/
and feel
and touch
and gasp
/
“go” they whisper
take the pleasure
you’ll value the treasure
ignoring my whimper
/
and yet I seal away
and yet I stay at home
and yet they can’t grasp
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harrison-abbott · 2 years ago
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The crows stalled on the tips of the trees in hard velvet dots and they had a magic menace which he couldn’t help but admire.
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andyfire122 · 5 years ago
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Writetober day 19: Death
Ro was in complete control of herself today. Her mind was clear as it could be so today she decided to go with the business suit. It was also fortunate that today was when she was gonna make the deal with a few of the locals for some better shielding.
Though, the only difference this meeting would have any other day was that she was sure things would go right. Also to redirect any supprises back.
Either way, this will be fun.
"Miss Sanchez, I was under the impression the ruler would be speaking."
She sighed. It was one of the few Ricks that decided to show up. "I am the ruler of this empire, now back to the topic. The generator could mimic a signal to block any citadel tracing."
Never doubt walking into someone's house you stupid piece of shit.
The man smiled. “Yup, those shit like to think they control everything but hey when is that true.”
As he was unveiling his device, her attendant showed up with drinks. She was an older woman, but Ro trusted Cecil in any state of mind.
She smiled. “We took some time to prepare beverages special.”
The rest of the sellers took their drinks readily. Most of them dealt with the empire before so they knew their standing. The Rick was new and was grinning the entire time.
The citadel has outdone itself in this attempt.
"Now, if I'm looking at these specs right. This is a jammer."
His eyes widened in fear for a moment. “Now, I see how it can look that to anyone else but Ricks are geniuses. I know my work.”
Smash him in. Turn him into a paste. Tear him to pieces.
She grinned. Oh, she could let herself slip into the old madness. It would be so easy. Though this method would have a much bigger impact.
“Then you should know my old file. It takes a genius to recognize this work and I see it as a jammer. Just like I saw your other trick.”
He quickly grabbed his neck like he was in pain. Most of the other guests shook their heads as they knew better.
She got up. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? I knew of your little plot and took the measures to direct it back to its owner. Your mistake was trying this on a day like this. Even then, it's almost hilarious to think you could even bribe one of my people?"
Oh, the look on his face. I love it.
As he collapsed the last thing he saw was Ro grinning down on him. He calm was still there but it was slipping a bit. “No need to worry, I'll send you back home and since I'm so generous, it won't be in the box you put that stupid piece of junk.”
Now contemplate that for the rest of your miserable existence.
She kicked him once after she was sure the man died and buzzed in to have the body cleaned up. After this, she was ready to kick off the real meeting.
“Now, let's get to the actual business shall we."
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theflowofink · 5 years ago
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Project Idea? *because I totaly don’t have enough WIPs*
 Steampunk/Magepunk superhero story? Like the son of the biggest supervillain in the world, a half-demon with magic powers teams up with a team of other teen supers, think  a young Constantine or Dresden joins the Teen Titans?
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artisticmind · 4 years ago
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You don’t care about me
don’t even try to fake it
sometimes I think that you
don’t care about nobody but yourself
and I’m sure that must be such a shame
because you don’t get to see
how much you meant to others
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xaz-fr · 6 years ago
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I’ll edit links for previous chapters later but you know how Tumblr feelse about links but they're all in the zs tag
Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.
I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work
@deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @unburdened-billy @anonymouseyesamongwalls @knifox @massdestructionn @leprechaunsean @a-gay-lotus
The alternate name for this chapter is “spayar gets roasted by his entire family". Also gods Tassa is so good. I love herrrrrrr
Despite the cold sky outside Spayar could smell the warm spices of his mother’s cooking from downstairs. He kept glancing out his window at the Taldradin, the big clock tower, to keep an eye on the time. He had a meeting after dinner but before fifths and the time was approaching. He didn't want to miss it. While waiting for the right time to leave Spayar was writing in a notebook what his birds had told him in short hand, just for reference.
From downstairs he heard his mother give an exclamation and the excited sound of her voice but not what was being said. Maybe one of her friends was visiting. Spayar only had a dozen or so Dirinian aunties who were immigrants like his parents. But the sound didn't escalate like he expected from a group of Dirinians showing up to talk. So maybe a friend of his siblings.
His door opened without knocking. “Knock before you just open my door Duren- Von,” he petered out when he saw it wasn't his brother come to bother him for riding lessons again.
“Well then don't leave your door unlocked,” Von said with a grin.
“You’re back.” He was wearing his rain coat but it was dry meaning it wasn't raining or he was showing off.
“Yes, for the time being,” he closed the door and stood against it.
“Good news from Maker’s End?” Spayar closed his notebook and quickly wiped off his quill.
“A bit.”
“Tassa said you had success in Alderin,” he said.
“I did,” he beamed at Spayar. Gods he hated Von sometimes when his smile was like a beam of sunlight in fall.
Von made a hand motion by his head indicating Spayar should close the weave on his door. Von couldn't do it himself. He wasn't a weaver like Spayar and Tassa. His magic was faster and more immediate, his weaves being created and dissipating in seconds as a spell rather than a proper weave that lingered. “Oh, so good news,” and he got up to properly close the weave. The room and light grew muted, the view of the Taldradin seemed almost fogged through the glass.
“I have X’vazior’s full support,” Von bursted as soon as the weave coalesced.
“That’s good. But I don't know what fool man would pass up such a promotion.” Spayar sat back down at his desk. “Tell me you made friends in Maker’s End as well.”
“Nothing concrete,” Von grimaced. “It’s difficult to get makers to pick sides.”
“Unfortunate but true,” Spayar frowned even as he nodded. Historically most makers in the south fled to Gorum specifically to avoid being prodded into making instruments of war during a Conflict. One could always count on Gorum to remain neutral and thus untouchable in a Conflict. “But something?”
“Just talk mostly. Most everyone is too busy to talk to the fifth royal child,” he complained.
“But you got X'vazior,” Spayar said helpfully.
“Yes. I sent Tassa along after the first day so we could talk more. I think Tassa gave him the impression I'd kill him if he didn't join me.”
“You would have,” was all Spayar said.
“Yeah but-
“A praetor who knows you're weak is a card you don't want in your hand, Von,” he said.
“I know but…” he rubbed his mouth and it was distracting. “I don't want to be like my great grandfather. He threatened anyone who didn't side with him both before and after his Conflict and basically killed a child of every noble house of everyone who purposefully sided with his brothers. He didn't last, Spayar.”
“And princes who are afraid to make threats to get what they need don't either,” Spayar said. He hadn't forgotten the conversation he and Tassa had had a week ago about Von being too soft, too nice.
Von sighed. “Do you have any information for me?”
“Teldin is living in the Palace now.”
“Sakoth,” Von cursed.
“That’s about how I felt when I found out too,” Spayar said. “Fresh bread is also nearly half a bronze, it's almost impossible to get strawberry bushels and unless you know a guy it's impossible to get flour. It's getting scooped up by all the bakeries around the city.”
“Meat? X'vazior told me it's being taxed higher than salt in Alderin,” Von said.
“Birds maybe. I haven't heard of or seen anyone selling large livestock since I've come back from serving my time.”
“What’s your mother making for fifths?” Von asked.
“Goose? I think?”
“Hmmm…”
“You aren't even thinking about the food shortage now,” Spayar accused him but was smiling.
“What can I say? I like goose,” Von whined. “And it smelled so good. I might have to stay.”
Still smiling Spayar rolled his eyes. “To say it's getting worse as Asurala goes on would not be an understatement,” Spayar said. “Especially since no one likes going out in the rain and people don't want to travel the Lances.”
“Yes. I saw the state of them. I don't blame them.” The Westerlance had been easily traveled by them because they were on horseback but the potholes and ill repaired stone roads would make getting a cart anywhere difficult.
“I think most ranchers are waiting either for prices to go up for their livestock to sell or to hopefully wait out the bad winter with the stock they have now.”
“Neither of which is good,” Von nodded in agreement. “Is my mother in the city?”
“Yes.”
“Oh she's a sakoth,” Von folded his arms. “Last thing we need is everyone here. Tallasala is throwing her naming day party here too!”
“Yes. I'm aware.”
“Teldin, Tallasala, our mother, and I are all going to be in and around Assarus this month. This is-
“A terrible idea?”
“To say the least!”
“What did you and X'vazior talk about?”
“Mostly pleasantries. He told me he'd be able to rally the Second to me without much of a fuss. I gave him that letter Helida gave to me for him. While I was there he drafted one and had a courier rush it up to the Garden. I promised him food.”
“Easier said than done.”
“The treasury is not empty,” Von said. “If Tallasala can get mother to give her money for her stupid naming day party than I can come up with a reason I need money. I did tell him it may take time.”
“Yes… about that,” Spayar said slowly. Von cocked his head at him and Spayar told him about DiSol and the deal he'd made with the Adoshade and about Mali.
Von didn't even remark on it. “Have you gotten word back from Sinco at all yet?”
“No but I told him that he had anything to share he was to message me immediately and I'd pay for the postage to have it brought by wyrm.”
Von rubbed his face with both hands. “Spayar,” he sighed. Spayar hummed at him curiously. “Can your parents just adopt me instead?”
Spayar laughed. “While I'm sure my mother would be thrilled to have another son that doesn't detract from you being a Le’Acard. There's no getting out of that.”
“Yes,” Von said softly.
Outside the Taldradin gave a muffled tolling of the time. “I need to go,” Spayar got up.
“Where are you going?” Von asked but was specifically blocking the door.
“I have a meeting with the new thief lord, the Pale Cross.”
“We weren't done talking.”
“I'll be back.”
“I'm leaving after fifths. I shouldn't stay in the city.”
“Where are you going now?”
“Remember I said back in the west I said I wanted the Drake too?”
“And I told you you were insane but go on,” Spayar said.
“I’m going to the Wyrd.”
“Are you really going to court the Wyrm Lord?” Spayar asked, still trying to get out the door but Von wasnt letting him.
“A little,” Von said. “Mostly I want a personal flighter.”
Spayar’s brows furrowed a little then clarity came to him. “I don't like that guy,” Spayar said.
“You just don't because he and Tassa and insufferable,” Von reminded him quickly. “You know he's nice.”
“Yeah but he's so annoying,” Spayar complained.
“I want you to come with me to the Wyrd,” Von finally got to the point.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Would you feel better about saying yes if I said you did?”
“Fine,” Spayar sighed. “After Asümcest. I promised my siblings I'd take them,” he said before Von could argue.
“Fine. I'll have to change the day of our flight but fine.”
“Which port are we leaving from?”
“The one in Sinoulin.”
“Down there? Why?”
“Because my family doesn't go there and the less people who know I'm taking a wyrm out with my d'aelar the better.”
“I guess. Fine. Tell me the time before you leave after fifths but I really do have to go. Paper lord he might be but you don't keep men who kill for their position waiting.”
“What about me?” Von complained.
Spayar disconnected the weave. Light, sound, and smell rushed back into the space. He opened the door and gently pushed Von out with just two fingers on his chest. “When you finish the Conflict I'll give you more priority too,” he said nicely.
“I’m your domalim, I should always get priory,” Von whined.
Spayar just grinned a little. “I’ll see you for fifths. Don't mess up my bed,” and left Von in the doorway. He didn't need to turn to know Von was grumpily standing there with his arms folded. He mostly didn't look because he knew it would be cute and he didn't need that sort of distraction.
It had started to rain while Tassa stood outside King’s Casket in Cat’s Cradle waiting for Spayar. King was spelled the Fed way so everyone knew it was a turn of phrase. There were no kings in the Alliance, not in their tongue at least. To fight against the boredom of waiting under the awning outside the bar she was casually smoking a cigarello of posh, a native central Alliance plant smoked when you wanted to freshen the breath after a long day or you wanted the mouth stimulation of a joint without getting high. It was mostly smoked by children attempting to imitate their parents but couldn't buy actual drugs, people who needed to be the sober member of a party, and people who wanted to quickly freshen their breath. Tassa thought it tasted sort of orangy and with the orange season still some months away it was about as close as she could get to one this time of year. She was blowing smoke through a weave that turned the smoke into the shape of little butterflies to entertain herself while she waited.
Her cigarello was running out just as a buggy pulled up to the bar. The door of the buggy popped open and Spayar stepped out. Tassa took the cigarello out of her mouth and ground the end in her fingers. Spayar paid the driver and quickly got out of the rain to join Tassa under the awning.
“You’re early,” she said.
“I try to be,” he said, self-consciously touching his hair. He'd styled his hair nicely.
“You look like you're going to court,” she said and reached up, messing his hair up a bit with his fingers. It was too perfect, too sleek. “The Pale Cross is from the East, he doesn't trust fancy boys.”
“I see,” Spayar said, patiently allowing her to restyle his hair. She couldn't help but think he needed a hair cut. It was out of style for men to have hair long enough to tie back. It didn't help that Spayar’s wavy curls were thick and difficult to manage. “You done?” he asked as she got distracted thinking about giving Spayar the name of her hair dresser.
“Oh, yes,” she said and pulled her hands from his locks. 
“He have a real name by the way?” Spayar asked.
“Not that I know,” she said. “He showed up calling himself the Pale Cross and we’ve been calling him that since he killed Jakkerty. Sort of rumor is he's from across the Spine, came here to escape a punishment of some sort.”
“You believe it?”
“I think Pale Cross is only as dangerous as he wants us to believe he is. No one questions him.”
“Fear of a knife to the throat?”
“He’s not above violence, no,” she said, pursing her lips. She had seen him threaten enough people to not want Spayar to get too close to him. She certainly didn't want them to become anything. “Also, don't touch him.”
“No? He's not as hands on as you?” and he winked at her. Her heart fluttered a little.
She refocused. She knew better than to get distracted by how cute Spayar was. It had been her undoing more than once. Like getting this meeting in the first place! “No,” she said seriously. “He doesn't like being touched.”
“I don't need to touch him, relax,” Spayar rolled his eyes at her.
“Good.”
“Now we going to keep standing out in the rain, Tassa?” he asked patiently, knowing she'd been stalking.
“I guess,” she swallowed and pushed the door open. 
The bar was warm and dry with a small band playing in a corner. People were singing along. While the purchase of drugs outside of Smoker’s Den was was punishable by such a steep fine most people didn't bother that didn't stop you from bringing your own or from some places just offering it for free with the purchase of a meal. King’s Casket was the former and despite not selling it the place smelled of about six types of drugs. So the singing along with the band was sloppy at best. The bar itself didn't sell drugs or alcohol but rather a specialty to Assarus, a type of fish that was if prepared incorrectly would kill you and if prepared correctly got you high. 
The bar claimed to serve it properly but Tassa had never seen anyone order it since she'd started coming here and she'd spent a lot of time here with Jackertty before he'd been murdered. He'd been as close to a lover as she'd actually allow and that was mostly because it made her job easier. And it got the actual man she loved an in with the thief lord. She'd had worse sex for better reasons and she had no reason to complain. Jackertty hadn't been the best cutpurse in the city for no reason. He had very talented hands. She missed him only because Pale Cross was more dangerous for Spayar’s health. Hopefully that wouldn't be the case much longer.
In a back room was where the thief lord held court. Had been for over a century. Mostly it was a place the thief lord collected their dues from the other thieves, cutpurses and cat burglars in the city. They kept the Guard Commander’s hand well greased with atrins and unless caught in the direct act most thieves were just forced to return the stolen goods and not worse. In return for turning a blind eye most of the time the thief lord was to keep his small underworld in check and not reach their hands too far. It was two large booth tables and a bench along one wall. On the bench was a musician offering good music away from the more rowdy band playing in the main room. On one booth several people were playing a heated dice and card game. 
The other table had Pale Cross and those he decided he liked. The “court”, as it were, hadn't changed as much as they thought when Jakertty died. Pale Cross sat with a slight distance between them and he lived up to his name. He had platinum blonde hair and icy cold white skin with pale blue eyes like ice. Tassa didn't like looking directly into them. He was a surprisingly small man of slight stature and feminine features with full lips, elegant cheek bones, and a soft jaw. If Tassa didn't know better she'd have taken Pale Cross for a woman but he insisted he was a man so who was she to argue?
She looked over at Spayar and saw him take in Pale Cross too. She saw the initial confusion in his brow a moment before he decided that his opinions on the subject were irrelevant.
Tassa motioned Spayar to follow her over to the table Pale Cross was sitting at and leaned on the table a bit, drawing their attention. “Boss, your meeting is here,” she said sweetly.
Pale Cross looked from Tassa to Spayar. He leaned over to the warlock next to him and said something into their ear. They got up and patted Spayar down. “Oh, careful there friend,” Spayar said in his charming way when they patted down his crotch and groin to make sure he had no weapons. They gave him a hard look. “I know better than to bring a weapon to King’s Casket, don't worry,” it should have been patronizing but coming from Spayar it was pleasant, delightful even. She'd known him nearly two decades and she still didn't know how he made a threat sound like a compliment. 
“He’s clean,” the warlock announced and sat back down.
Tassa slid into the booth but Spayar stood, standing opposite Pale Cross where he was cloistered in the middle and back of the booth. “Hello, I don't think we've been properly introduced,” he gave a slight hand bow. “I’m Spayar Hillsman Junior.”
“I know who you are,” Pale Cross said, his voice was high for a man and Tassa wasn't sure if he intentionally pitched it up or down. “I am the Pale Cross, what do you want?”
Spayar smiled in a good mood. “I guess this is just a formality of sorts. I use some of your men for my own services.”
“I am aware of that.”
“And I just wanted to make sure you won't cause me trouble than,” Spayar didn't say it like a threat but Tassa knew it was a threat. Casually she coated her fingers in magic and twirled them under the table. The basic structure of a weave formed between her fingers in case she needed to finish it quickly and cast. 
Pale Cross stood up. They were at least a hand shorter than Spayar and didn't even have half the air to compete with Spayar’s presence. Privately Tassa thought it was rather comical that Pale Cross decided that they were tougher than Spayar. She'd only heard some of the things Spayar had done while serving his time but she knew rooting out Feds had been on the list. “Don’t think to intimidate me,” he said.
“I would never,” Spayar said graciously. “I appreciate your cooperation but I don't require it. Don't misunderstand my intentions thief lord, you work with me: not the other way around,” he casually put his hands in the pocket of his rain coat. “This is Assarus and I don't know what you're people have told you or what you think you are but I assure you it isn't my boss,” he chuckled.
Tassa frowned but also knew everyone in this room. They all, at one point or another, worked for Spayar. And the thing that differed between Spayar and Pale Cross was that Spayar paid and Pale Cross expected to get paid. She knew none of them were more loyal to Pale Cross than money but she was more worried that Pale Cross would get angry. That was how she heard Jakertty had died. He'd said the wrong thing or done something and Pale Cross had stabbed him nine times in the chest with his own belt knife.
“This is my domain, Hillsman. You don't get to talk to me like that here. You're a child and if you aren't more respectful I'll do to you what I did to Jakertty.”
The musician had stopped playing and people from the gaming table were half paying attention. Spayar was still just smiling in casual pleasantry. He sucked his teeth in amusement and stepped up to the table, putting his hands down on the table. “I’m not here to threaten you. I just want us to be friends,” he said nicely. “I like using the thieves in the city as my sources of information. I prefer if we cooperate. It makes everyone happier and everyone makes money. Now don't do something stupid like make me your enemy, Pale Cross.”
“Or what?” he challenged. “You’re just a commoner boy. What could you do to me?”
Spayar stood up and casually held his hand out. To everyone's surprise but Tassa’s Pale Cross’s knife jumped out of his belt sheath and landed tang first into his palm. Elemental warlocks weren't common and people weren't expecting or ready for one when they appeared, much less a mettalurgist like Spayar. Spayar put the point against his palm and casually spun it, it didn't break the skin. “All sorts of things,” he said casually. “I’d like some privacy,” he glanced around the room. The musician was the first to get up and the game was quickly packed up.
“Where are you going?” Pale Cross asked as members of his booth got up.
“There’s something you need to learn, Cross,” Spayar said, still casually playing with their knife. “I’ve been gone for two years but everyone still likes me more than you. Do you know why?”
Tassa got up but didn't want to. She gave Spayar a nervous look but he was just so sure of himself. So confident and pleasant. If she was any less worried she'd have found it really hot. The game table was empty and the other booth was quickly emptying. Tassa reluctantly left the room with the others. “Because I pay,” Spayar was saying as the door was closed, “Just like I will make you if you cross me.”
Tassa immediately put her ear against the door but was rewarded with nothing. “Come now Tassa, you know nothing gets through the door,” Philiphe said.
“I’m worried,” she said.
“About what? I'm glad that kid is back. Uhg that Pale Cross is so pretentious,” Bruna said. “And maybe now we can make some money again.”
She looked at them, “You forget how Jakertty got got?” she demanded.
“Yeah but Jakertty was an idiot,” Bruna said.
“Pretty was like his only selling point,” Lassie said. “That’s why you liked him.”
“Marginally,” Tassa said.
“The kid will be fine,” Philiphe said.
When the others dispersed but Tassa stayed by the door until it opened again. Spayar came out, his bottom lip split but in good spirits. “Spayar!”
“Oh, hey,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him.
“Your face,” she touched his face gently with her fingertips. “You should go see Mali. What happened?”
“We came to an understanding,” Spayar said. He let her fret over his face for a few more seconds before pulling away. “It’s fine Tassa. Just a lip.” Not just s lip. Spayar’s beautiful lip on his beautiful face.
“And Pale Cross?”
“He sees things my way now,” he said. “That's all that needs to be done here. Thank you for getting me the meeting. I wish it hadn’t ended quite like that but there's no helping stubborn people.”
“And what about you?”
“I told my mom I'd be home for fifths and Vondugard needed to talk to me.”
She sighed. “So leaving me with the mess?”
“Oh, he's not a mess,” Spayar said. “I let him get one punch in because it seemed like he needed it. He's right now.”
“Alright,” she still frowned that his pretty face was ruined. “You’re sure you're okay?”
“Right as sunshine, my lady,” he said in that cute teasing way he did that always made her heart skip a little. “I haven't felt this upbeat since I came back from serving my time.” It didn't take a genius to read between the lines on that one. “You want to come to fifths?”
“You’re inviting me?” Normally Spayar didn't like her around his sisters. Not because he minded but apparently his father had nearly had a heart attack when his little sister Anora had asked him what a whore was after the last time she'd visited.
“Why not? Not like there's anything else for you to do here. Cross is going to be a bit private for a while I think,” he grinned a tad recklessly that with his missed hair she'd given him made him even more handsome. “Besides, you know my addim, she loves when I bring friends over to eat.”
“Can I ask what you did to him?” she asked even as she followed him out of the bar, past the singing stoners.
“Nothing too bad,” was all Spayar said and they stepped out under the awning. By law all buildings had to have at least a five foot across awning that spanned the entire length of the building without breaks. It was to be water proof and do it's best to keep the sidewalk dry during the rainy season. It allowed for fairly easy foot travel which was all you could do in Cat’s Cradle as hireable buggies didn't transverse the little neighborhood, the streets were usually too narrow and winding. That and you were likely to get mugged.
The rain had picked up substantially since the state of the meeting. “But not dead?”
“Gods no. That would make my job far too difficult,” he said and walked on the outside of the sidewalk so any rain would hit him first. She grabbed his arm as they walked and he comfortably looped it through hers. “But he should be much less annoying for all our parties and more so for anyone not me,” he smiled pleasantly at her.
“I think I like post time Spayar even more than pre time,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. He scoffed but was grinning. “I missed you.”
“Yes, I know.”
“I wrote.”
“I know. I literally didn't write back to anyone. I was far too busy being the errand boy of a war alchemist and trying not to puke at all hours.”
Tassa giggled, “That sounds like some of ours the first time they got on a ship.” They crossed a water logged street, rushing through the heavy rain back into the safety of the sidewalk awnings. When Tassa had first arrived at King’s Casket it hadn't been raining so she hadn't brought an umbrella and Spayar was without his wide hat. She was sure it had been a conscious choice to not carry anything in his person. 
“Yes but this alchemist was trying to induce vomiting. It was quite bothersome after a while.”
“That sounds awful,” she frowned.
“You got used to it.”
“That wasn't all you did I'm sure.”
They stopped at the end of a block and Spayar turned to her, his pretty brown eyes serious. “I did kill some people if that's what you're getting at.”
“In not so many words,” she said. “All Feds?”
“Mostly,” was all he said and pulled her across another intersection. She didn't push anymore. Actual Feylon bandits weren't common but it was never fun to deal with them, same for Feylon pirates who decided to rob from their own countrymen. She'd made enough searing weaves into the skin of her fellow Feylon to not want to talk about it either. 
“Have you heard from Vondugard?” she asked instead.
“Yes. He's joining us for fifths as well.”
“Good news?”
Spayar didn't answer for a block. There was one left and they could see rentable cabbies at the wide intersection where Cat’s Cradle met Swan Box. “I’m very worried,” was all he said.
“Spay…” she frowned but stopped when he gave her a look. “You know.”
“I do.” She hugged his arm.
“What’s your mother making for fifths?” she changed the subject. She hated seeing upset like this. Hated seeing him worried about dying. She wished she’d known him sooner when they were young and she could have pointed right at that blonde brat and gone ‘Spayar doesn't want to be friends with you’. She did not and never would forgive Vondugard for being such an unappreciative jerk about how wonderful Spayar was and how devoted he was. Vondugard didn't deserve him. She did.
She immediately squashed the thought. She wasn't doing this to herself. She knew Spayar’s preferances. It didn't matter what Tassa did or said or how she acted. She could love him to the Shadow Lands and back but he'd never feel the same way. She knew he loved her as his friend but that was all she'd ever be. 
“Goose,” he said.
She wrinkled her nose a little. She wasn't fond of goose. She preferred squab or duck. But she wasn't going to look free food in the mouth. “Sounds good.”
They stopped at the sidewalk by one of the buggies. “Can I give you a ride?” the driver asked.
“Yes, going to Bellringer, Synerstock Street,” Spayar said and opened the door for Tassa. She got into the clam shell shaped cab and Spayar got in next to her.
“What end?” the driver asked, looking back at them.
“Underhill Smithing,” Spayar said. “You know the place?” They nodded. “There.”
“Right away,” and the driver turned back around and clicked to his poor sodden horse. But better the horse than them.
“Cut through Swan Island too,” Spayar said as they started down the road. The cabbie looked back questioning, Spayar just flashed his medalian from inside the breast of his jacket.
“Right away,” the driver turned his horse north immediately instead of continuing easy to go the long way around the lake.
“So that's how you got here so fast,” Tassa said, moving closer to Spayar, partly to get out of the rain and partly because she wanted to. He just put an arm over her shoulders.
“Pays to be me sometimes,” he squeezed her shoulder.
Tassa asked him more about his served time while on the way to the Hillsman home. They ended up sharing a few stories and the driver even added one of his own. Most of Spayar's stories involved getting purposefully poisoned at some point or throwing up. She would have hated being part of his squad.
Finally they arrived at the building and Spayar directed the driver around the side alley to the front door that led to the side yard. He paid the cabbie and Spayar grabbed the umbrella he'd left in his horse’s shed to get them to the door where warm smells were pouring out of. “I miss fifths?” Spayar asked loudly as he closed the umbrella.
“Nope. Just in time!” Anora was sitting at the table already. “Miss Tassy! You came back!” she waved excitedly from the table. Tassa smiled.
“Tassy?” Relora poked her head out of the kitchen. “Tassa, welcome back,” she smiled warmly and Tassa smiled wider. She'd been slightly worried Spayar's parents wouldn't want her to come back after the whole whore situation. “I hope you're hungry, I made goose!”
“Can’t wait,” Tassa said.
“Calli! Vondugard! Come down for fifths,” Relora called in a volume only mother's calling their children could muster. Or Tassa thought so. She'd never met hers. “Spayar go get your father.”
“I’m getting Tassa a chair though-”
“Go get your father first,” Relora said and went back into the kitchen.
Spayar sighed, “Just sit, I'll pull up another chair.”
“Alright,” Tassa said and sat next to Anora who was vibrating in excitement, her big loose curls quivering in their three high tails Relora had put them in. “Hi,” Tassa said with a wide smile she reserved for small children and house cats.
“Tassy, do you want to know a secret?” she asked softly, dropping her voice.
Tassa leaned down a little, “I love secrets,” she said softly.
“It’s about my big brother,” she said as Calli and Vondugard came down the stairs. 
“Oh? Well you have to tell me then.”
“Spayar’s horse doesn't have a name and me, Duren, and Calli get to come up with one,” she said excitedly.
“What?” Tassa was so taken aback she sat up. “Spayar didn't name his horse?” she asked loud enough to be heard. Had she heard that right? What?
“He didn't what?” Vondugard asked, sitting down next to Calli.
“Duren said Spayar didn't name his horse,” Anora said.
“He didn’t— Spayar,” Vondugard barked when Spayar came back in with the other Hillman men,
“What now?” Spayar sighed as he went to go locate a chair of some sort.
“I gave you that mare three years ago what do you mean you didn't name it?”
Spayar looked at his little sisters with narrowed eyes, “I told you not to tell anyone,” he said, only slightly less threatening than when he'd been talking to Pale Cross.
It was completely lost on his sisters. “Anora did it,” Calli said mildly.
“Dooim, Calli is being mean to me,” Anora whined.
Spayar Senior looked at all the young people at his table took a deep breath and just went into the kitchen, talking to his wife in Dirnine. Tassa didn't blame him. “What do you mean you didn't name your horse?” Vondugard demanded.
“I’ve been busy,” Spayar dragged a stool over to sit at the table.
“You’ve had her three years.”
Spayar rubbed his face and looked at Anora, “I am never telling any of you a secret ever again.”
“I was just telling Tassy,” she said defensively.
“The point of a secret is you don't tell anyone. We’re not doing alchemy after fifths,” he said sternly.
“Alright everyone, that's enough,” Relora came out with two dishes of sides while Spayar senior followed behind with the carved goose.
“Addim Spayar and Calli are being mean to me,” Anora whined.
“Honey you did a bad thing telling Spayar's secret,” her heavily accented voice not quite scolding.
“But I was just-
Relora put the food down and went over to her daughter. “How would you feel if Spayar told all your friends about what you did the night he came home? Hmm?”
“I wouldn't like it,” Anora said, puffing up her lips and cheeks a bit in what Tassa thought was a very Spayar-like behavior. 
“Exactly. That's how your brother feels you told Tassa.”
Anora just looked down at her lap, swinging her short legs in annoyance. Relorq got up and sat next to her husband who was half out of his seat putting goose on everyone’s plate. “I still can't believe you,” Vondugard was saying.
“I’m ignoring you,” Spayar said while he did just that and was busying himself with fifths, cutting up the goose and stuffing it and the baked yam into his mouth at the same time.
“Three years, Spayar. Three years,” Vondugard stressed.
“Don’t worry Von, we'll come up with a good one,” Calli said, putting her hand on the irate prince’s arm. 
Vondugard frowned at Spayar before looking at Calli. “I fear what he would eventually name or not name it without you,” he told her.
“We’ll make sure it's good,” she patted his hand and as she did glanced across the table at Tassa. Tassa just rose her brows at Calli. Really? She was doing this? That was all she needed to do and Calli immediately snatched her hand away and Tassa could see the embarrassed flush on her nubby round ears. Tassa knew Vondugard didn't deserve Spayar but over her dead body was anyone ruining that for Spayar. At least Calli seemed aware there was a boundary. Good girl. Neither of the boys seemed to notice.
“Tassy do you not like your food?” Anora asked her, tugging on her sleeve a little.
She looked away from the royal drama baby to sweet Anora. “I was waiting for it to cool down a bit,” she said with a sweet voice and smile.
“De-de,” Anora said making Spayar look at her, his mouth full. “I’m sorry I told Tassa about your horse.”
Spayar side eyed Tassa and then Vondugard, “He would have figured it out eventually. It isn't a big deal.”
“So can you still show me some alchemy after fifths?” she asked hopefully.
“I don't want to,” he said and Tassa put some food in her mouth to not laugh at the faces the siblings were giving each other across the table. Their parents were willfully oblivious (or perhaps very good at faking it) to what was happening and were carrying on their conversation from the kitchen. Tassa couldn't follow because it was in Dirnine. Tassa liked this. She wished it would stay just like this.
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