#amexcps

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I opened my files (after some months.) Here are some of the last lines I wrote for the following WIPs (without context):

Red Complex (aka Red Strings of Fate WIP):

Don’t Fall Asleep (aka Sleep Paralysis WIP):

Mariang Makiling (aka Mariang Makiling Retelling WIP):

Lethal Bloods (aka Aswang WIP):

Maharlika (aka PH Mythology WIP #1):

Thanks for reading friends. :D

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LETHAL BLOODS | Camp NaNoWriMo ‘22 Wrap Up

Project Blurb: The Arestas took Camellia in when she was a few months old and abandoned. The family was known for their cut-throat ways and were notorious creature hunters to some. When her parents were reported dead, talks of disowning her began to circulate.

One night, on her way from the cemetery, she was attacked by a rabid figure—baring her throat to their mouth, nails digging into her neck and shoulders. Camellia survived. It made her a curious, potentially valuable asset to the family’s trade as hunters and others lurking in the dark.

Soon, she realizes her family functions more than it seemed, and the only way to keep safe is to ally with the enemies.

Genre: Paranormal-Supernatural Fantasy, Horror, Romance Total Word Count: 23, 500+

Excerpt: 200↑ Content Warning/s: None

Khrysanthe took a deep, audible breath, startling her across the table. He buried his head in his palms, trying to dissipate the anguish of the situation. Then he pushed his head back, returning his attention to her saying, “Seriously? I’m trying to help you, Cam. The old man is on the move, and I need you to trust me—” “Khrys,” she huffed, seemingly running out of breath. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.” Fuck, he thought, scratching the back of his head; the lack of tact urging him to throw himself a punch or splash cold water to the head—how dare he forget? He found himself unable to look her in the eyes, though she seemed unbothered by his insensitivity to her psychological construct. Khrysanthe carefully thought for a moment, crafting the right question to confirm his suspicions so he could find a way to help her. And for once in his life, he silently prayed to whatever higher, divine being granted invocations from someone like him. To prove him wrong this one time, to unburden Camellia. “Then let me ask you,” he started. “How do you feel right now?” Camellia’s eyes widened, unsure where the conversation was taking them both, but hesitantly indulged. “Tired...and weak.” She turned her hand over. Curling her fingers, flexing the muscles. She couldn’t hold it up for long when she did. Her cousin looked at her strangely; worried and examining, brows furrowed, trying to see through her. But also terrified, it seemed. She could feel it by the light stomps of his feet beneath the table, the haste of his heartbeat. “…and hungry.”

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I wanted to at least reach the 25k mark, but I was too drained.

If I ever decide to participate again next year, I hope for better results!

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Hiraia watched her family die at seven. Cloaked, faceless figures invaded their humble home at Sun Meadow, decapitated her mother and brother, and burned the house when they left. For many nights she would wake up drenched in sweat and tears, in anger and self-loathing. Then she would leave her room to break fast with a promise to her parents and Kahel.

I woke up Saturday morning with an idea to begin Hara. I had different versions of the first chapter, but I think this one is better. Grim, but better.😂 Thanks for reading! :)

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Hiraia and Unnamed MC. (Not really unnamed. His name was Kai, but since there was a revision in the story and worldbuilding, it doesn’t fit him anymore.) This scene takes place inside Timawaan (a military academy of some kind.) They are both Hinirang (chosen), but Kai doesn’t know it. (Mahal, in this context, means Love. A lot of people use it as a term of endearment here. I’m just trying it out for now. Haha)

I’ve had this stuck in the drafts long enough. Thanks for reading! <3 (Transcript below.)

“Do you hate being crowned King of the South?”

“I’m no king yet, mahal. I am a lowly soldier and a student still.”

“Modesty doesn’t look good on you.” Hiraia raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed. “Answer me.”

“No.” His voice was firm. Resolved. [—] was groomed to become king of his country and didn’t waver. Hiraia loved that about him, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he could understand what it meant for her. “It’s an honor to be chosen.”

“I see.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Is something wrong, Hiraia?”

“Several things are wrong, mahal. I fear it might spoil our night if we dive into it.” She turned to him and smiled. “Come on, aren’t we about to cause some trouble?”

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LETHAL BLOODS | Camp NaNoWriMo ‘22 Update #3

Project Blurb: The Arestas took Camellia in when she was a few months old and abandoned. The family was known for their cut-throat ways and were notorious creature hunters to some. When her parents were reported dead, talks of disowning her began to circulate.

One night, on her way from the cemetery, she was attacked by a rabid figure—baring her throat to their mouth, nails digging into her neck and shoulders. Camellia survived. It made her a curious, potentially valuable asset to the family’s trade as hunters and others lurking in the dark.

Soon, she realizes her family functions more than it seemed, and the only way to keep safe is to ally with the enemies.

Genre: Paranormal-Supernatural Fantasy, Horror, Romance Word Count: +7, 000↑

Excerpt: 200↑ Content Warning/s: None

“Cam, be honest.” Camellia locked their gazes, reflecting an inverted image of him. [He didn’t notice.] “Are you okay? You seem—” “Weird?”

“Is there anything else? I’d like to get some rest.” “Of course, of course.” Rosen stood next, approaching her with his hand gesturing towards the door. “I’m sure you’re still hungover. I have nothing more to discuss with you.” He took a pause, seeing his reflection in her eyes. “For now.”

Commentary: Reflections, reflections. Inverted reflections.👀

Salva Arcilla went back to his apartment, sick to the stomach. Heart and mind heavy with the images he’d witnessed last night. He couldn’t shake the thought off his head, finding it difficult to bring himself to sleep with the conclusion hanging at the tip of his tongue. But he found it greatly inconceivable. Nothing he knew or heard could support the claim.

Across him was a silhouette of a human-like figure perched at the edge of a roof. Long hair tousled by the wind, head following the movements of their subjects below. Unequipped for this espionage, he couldn’t tell if it was human or otherwise. However, no human in their right mind would sit on someone else’s roof like that, especially with the ongoing threat to their safety at night. They both watched someone carry the girl out of the neighborhood to the outskirt of the city. When the figure caught Salva between the trees, they surged back into the shadows and disappeared. Whatever it was, they’d also realized a Catian lived among the Arestas.

Commentary: Salva is referring to Camellia being a Catian, a family with a cursed blood but not really. 👀 Also, I love family feuds sprinkled with bits of the otherworldly.  👀 

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! It was a better writing week than the last. More placeholders had been added. (ಥ﹏ಥ) Hopeful to be more productive and catch up. Have a great day/night!

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LETHAL BLOODS | Camp NaNoWriMo ‘22 Update #2

Project Blurb: The Arestas took Camellia in when she was a few months old and abandoned. The family was known for their cut-throat ways and were notorious creature hunters to some. When her parents were reported dead, talks of disowning her began to circulate.

One night, on her way from the cemetery, she was attacked by a rabid figure—baring her throat to their mouth, nails digging into her neck and shoulders. Camellia survived. It made her a curious, potentially valuable asset to the family’s trade as hunters and others lurking in the dark.

Soon, she realizes her family functions more than it seemed, and the only way to keep safe is to ally with the enemies.

Genre: Paranormal-Supernatural Fantasy, Horror, Romance Word Count: +5, 000↑

Excerpt: 100↑ Content Warning/s: None

“Leave, I sai—” she paused, seeing two figures she hadn’t seen on the island before. Their bloods familiar to her nose, enticing her hunger, magic prickling at her fingers. “Well, what a surprise. You’ve brought gifts.” She glided closer, her feet centimeters off the ground, white dress flowing with the wind, dragging bits of leaves and debris in her wake. “What are your names, blue bloods.” Camellia and Khrysanthe looked at each other. Wariness painted on their faces, minds highly alerted and confused all at once. “Khrysanthe and Camellia Aresta, witch. I’m sure you can tell which one is which,” Khrysanthe replied with a little bite to his voice, hands tight on the handle of his cursed, thorned whip. “An Aresta?” The witch smiled, seemingly amused. “The two of you? I only smell one Aresta blood. The other…”—she focused on Camellia, Khrysanthe blocking her view out of reflex—“never in my life I’d expect to meet one. How do you do, binibini?” “Want to do you want with us?” The witch turned to Khrysanthe, her eyes piercing and pitch black, disrespected by him. “Your flesh and blood, of course.” Khrysanthe grinned, thrilled at the challenge. “You can try.”

Commentary: Sometimes, I think Khrysanthe is cool. Other times I think he needs to be put down. I mean, someone needs to tell/show him that he’s a mortal. One look could kill him. *eye emojis* Also, witches good.❤️ 

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! It has been a not-so-good writing week, but it’s better than not getting any words in at all. There were scenes that kind of ticked me off and I couldn’t get around them for a while. I made it through, but I’m not satisfied. I’ll have future me (who will have to deal with the revisions) worry about it. There were a few placeholders too. Hahaha—Good luck, Aye 2023. Have a great day/night!

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Here are Hiraia and Saia. Historians will call them close friends, bеsties, roommates, colleagues, anything but love—kidding! They are only besties (according to Hiraia.) I can already see my future self kicking me for posting this entire scene. The use of beloved felt over the top, but I digress.

Hinirang means chosen, appointed. The title refers to the people appointed by Laon to lead and serve their favored realm.

Thanks for reading! (Transcript below.)

Saia had forsaken his daily duties after receiving a letter from Hiraia. The deep-rose parchment was empty, but he knew what it meant. How she managed to slip it into a staff’s uniform and enter the palace poison garden unscathed, every time, remained a mystery. Distressed, he left his study through the window in haste. Hiraia was on the ground when he arrived, bathing the late afternoon sun, breathing poison, and well. “You must stop summoning me like this, Hiraia.” Hiraia grinned at the sky, opening her eyes. “Apologies, oh great Saia, Garon of Garons, Wind and Sky of the West, King of the Western Islands, Hinirang of the Favored Realm, Hand of the Great Empero—” “Stop it.” She laughed briefly, then said, “I’m here to say goodbye, beloved.” “Goodbye,” Saia said, turning his back to her. “I cannot be seen idle, Hiraia. If that is all then—” “You wound me deep, Saia.” Hiraia clutched her baru to her chest, feigning heartache. “I am to leave for my nightmare after tomorrow at dawn.” “Nightmare?” Saia turned back to her, taking the pace beside her. “Much on the list, beloved.” “Full of red and brawns. No brains.” “Timawaan? Weakening resolve? Shame." “The headmaster’s visit was early. He's lounging with my grandfather in the garden when I left. Those old, conniving men took care of everything long before our first exchange of the matter. My fate sealed and irrevocable”—Long before I was born. “Right.” Saia sighed, his posture degrading to a slouch. “I take it you came to discuss your nefarious scheme too?” “You know me well.”

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my self-indulgent ass everyone 😩🥹❤️ also, angela in my head rn: he said our twice…ours.

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“Nichole closed her eyes and pinched her arm.” 

Writing Nichole’s character came naturally to this direction. She’s not the one with the sixth sense or the third eye. But for me, putting her in this situation first (rather than Maeri Keith, who has the sixth sense/third eye), is far more frightening; ultimately opens a lot of opportunity to mess with the characters. 8D

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Hiraia returned from town barefoot and dirty. Sandals tied at the strings, hanging on her neck. Dress ruined and ragged at the seams, tinted dark brown and damped. It was one of the few good dresses she had left, but she couldn’t resist the town children’s fun. Her grandfather stood by the house entrance, hands clasped behind his back. As she neared the old man, giddy and mischievous—expecting warning for her unruly behavior—another appeared wearing a distinctive, black-red scholar robe, neat and formal from head to toe. She knew him. A man as old as her grandfather. A man of great intellect and power—Timawaan’s headmaster. They’ve been waiting for her. The headmaster visited often. On weekends, when his schedule wasn’t as suffocating, allowing enough to travel across borders and vast lands. Today, however, was midweek. Two days would still pass before his supposed visit. This was no social call. Knowing what it meant, Hiraia approached them fast and said, “No.”

I couldn’t resist the urge. I continued writing this Hara chapter. Thanks for reading. Timawaan is a military academy of sorts. A placeholder still, but I’m considering it as the academy’s final name. 🤔

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LETHAL BLOODS | Camp NaNoWriMo ‘22 Update #1

Project Blurb: The Arestas took Camellia in when she was a few months old and abandoned. The family was known for their cut-throat ways and were notorious creature hunters to some. When her parents were reported dead, talks of disowning her began to circulate.

One night, on her way from the cemetery, she was attacked by a rabid figure—baring her throat to their mouth, nails digging into her neck and shoulders. Camellia survived. It made her a curious, potentially valuable asset to the family’s trade as hunters and others lurking in the dark.

Soon, she realizes her family functions more than it seemed, and the only way to keep safe is to ally with the enemies.

Genre: Paranormal-Supernatural Fantasy, Horror, Romance Word Count: 8, 000↑

Excerpt: 500↑ Content Warning/s: None

Her parents traveled to the southern regions of the country. It’s been about three months since she’d last seen them and heard their voices. Perhaps it was parental yearning that made her feel somehow incomplete, lonely. Whenever she was in their presence or even at the knowledge that they were somewhere inside the house, she always felt at ease. “Old Man Roro better have a good reason for this shit.” Khrysanthe said, creeping behind Camellia, making her flinch. He seemed to have had a quick shower, but the smell of liquor still lingered on his breath and skin. “Grandfather wouldn’t call us if the reason is anything but urgent,” she replied, keeping her eyes gazing at the moon. “Nothing, nothing is more important than sleep. Especially mine, cousin.”

Commentary: Part of Lethal Blood’s opening scene. It’s cliché to open a chapter with characters waking up, but I stand by it for now.

Soon, towering skyscrapers and commercial buildings turned into smaller establishments. To residential properties, until piled neon-lighted concretes turned sparse; both sides of the road blanketed with darkened greens, scattered dews glittering under Luna’s alluring light, over-viewing the sparkling sea and the distant lights of another city. No doubt creatures loomed in the shadows. Camellia wouldn’t be surprised to get a glimpse of beady red eyes between tree branches, a consecutive rush of movements in the bushes, or even a whiff of fresh blood. No doubt the Arestas and its associates moved along with them somewhere. As hunters, naturally.

Commentary: I love this scene. It’s telling and cool. You will never catch me not mentioning the moon in any of my WIPs. NEVER.

Rosen turned his head towards her, so did the everyone else. “Our condolences, Camellia.” Something intangibly awful and peculiar weighed on her chest. It’s clawing at her throat, clutching her heart and lungs, crushing and suffocating her being. What was it? Everyone looked at her waiting for some form of response. She attempted to open her mouth, but what could she say? Their faces were painted with sorrow, salted with tears from their eyes. Why? Was she supposed to act similarly? “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Cynthia shouted, leaving the comfort of her seat. Tears smudged her brown eyeliner at the base of her eyes. She wiped them aggressively, making it worse for her appearance. No one cared about appearances this time. “Back off, Cyn—” “Shut up, Khrys!” She stomped towards Camellia, hands curled into fists at her sides. “What? Can't you even shed a tear for your parents? For Aunt Azalea? Did you even love them, you ungrateful bitch? You could’ve at least pretended to feel sad—” “I said fuck off, Cynthia,” Khrysanthe shouted this time, moving in front of Camellia to shield her from whatever his sister intended to do, and stop her.

Commentary: Big Sister Cynthia is pressed. Khrysanthe to the rescue! Soak in the drama, feel it. Honestly, this was a tiring session. I hated myself for making this family so dysfunctional. heLP!

The two could’ve stayed on the property with the rest of the family. But at some point, it began to feel like a family-business conference. Rosen himself was heard talking about another nature project with another associate, and Khrysanthe, most especially, didn’t love it. Now they felt like being punished for wanting to focus on mourning. “Can we just run over them?” He heard Camellia snicker. “It could be fun, Cam. What do you think? I brought some pretty neat things.” “We kill monsters, Khrys, not humans.” “That’s not entirely true,” he pointed out, shifting closer towards her, grinning. “The monsters were once humans, no?”

Commentary: This is from Chapter 2. (The ones above are excerpts from C1.) Yes. I love how they’re just casually talking about running people over and killing in general. :)

Banner: Love and Pain (aka Vampire), Edvard Munch

Notes: Hi, hello! I got through my first week. Thank you so much for reading! I didn’t introduce Lethal Bloods (formerly Dead Inside) before starting Camp Nano, so if you have questions you’re very welcome to invade my inbox. (Please.) Have a great day/night!

(More rambling beyond this point…)

This. This is my comeback to writing vampire fiction. Years ago, I swore to myself I will never write about blood-sucking people ever again, with their romances and powerful, peculiar afflictions. And I want to make it clear, it wasn’t because of similar writings/adaptations/anime. *coughs hysterically* It was my undoing, truly. The plot, the writing, the characters—it hurts me physically. Thirteen-year-old me, I’m redeeming you. It’s okay now. Hahaha—

It’s more accurate to describe this as a Vampire-Aswang WIP with semi-literate witches, curses, hunters, and thirst for world domination—ultimately featuring the creatures of Philippine Mythology (some of them.) Interesting right? We’ll see how far I could go this month.

Lastly—

Thank you to my forever partners in writing: thesaurus dot com, imissmycafe dot com, spotify (and their cafe mix playlist), classical and pop music, instant coffee, water, fried rice, egg sandwiches, and vicks inhaler.

*pops confetti*

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30 DAYS, 30 LINES CHALLENGE: DAY 27

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FROM MARIANG MAKILING:

However, as they crossed the covered walk, Maeri Kit looked back. She couldn’t help herself. The shadow was still there. It manifested inside an occupied classroom, peeking at her through the glass windowpane, showing half a chilling grin while hovering behind a student.

Notes: Thank you for reading! Is this particular entity relevant to the story? No. (Not yet.) To Maeri Kit’s life? probably. But mainly, it’s there because it’s fun for me and I keep thinking about the old building at my former university. Have a great day/night!

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30 DAYS, 30 LINES CHALLENGE: DAY 20

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FROM WHERE THE POET WENT TO DIE:

They were, in fact, in a kind of relationship similar to what genuine lovers had. But their time together, the bliss of their youth, during that one summer was painfully brief.

Time—however sedated it felt in this town—moved too fast, held on so loosely, for them to call each other lover.

Notes: Thank you for reading!

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30 DAYS, 30 LINES CHALLENGE: DAY 07

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FROM ALL IN FAVOR, SAY AYE:

“Sorry, Madam President. I’m here now. Ready-ish. Are we going to proceed like this?”

“Like what?”

“You’re missing two idiots.”

“Which idiots”—Abigail looked around and immediately realized what Laiana was talking about—“God. Someone call the idiots, please. Magnus and Duke are still missing.”

One of the officers near the door stood up, but then Abigail told them to sit down; murder in her eyes, the infernal fires of hell burning in there. She was going to collect two souls.

Notes: Thank you for reading! A month has passed since my last post for this challenge, but I’m going to finish this :) Also, I kind of miss being in the student council, this kind of scene plays out almost every time we’re schedule to have a meeting. 8D

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A little Red Complex excerpt! It’s been a while, right? Here’s one (1) struggling MC.

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30 DAYS, 30 LINES CHALLENGE: DAY 22

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FROM MARIANG MAKILING:

She held the child towards the sky, an offering to the dark and unholy. Entrails hanging and blood running, painting her face an alluring crimson shade, streaming along the streak of her tears.

Notes: Thank you for reading!