verdantlady

[verdantlady]

Prompt: Chicken, Pineapple, Coffee, Monopoly, Hesitant, Raincheck

Another day another prompt! This one we each came up with two words to make a combined six to include in our writing. Highly recommend :)

~~~~~~~

Jess sat in cafe Rumba innocently pondering her previous night’s adventures. Definitely not spying on anybody.  She wasn’t sure she could remember most of her wild night, only that she’d had to text her best friend Annie for a raincheck for their coffee date at 3 am in her bed with her makeup still on.  She felt a little guilty that she’d gone to the cafe for a coffee without her friend, but initially, she hadn’t meant to stay long.  Just a quick grab and go as she couldn’t be bothered to brew her own.  Now she was hesitant to leave.  What changed her mind you might ask? She’d spotted her on-again-off-again fling with another girl.

Claire Everwood was genuinely too cool for Jess.  They had been circling each other for a while, both working at a popular pastry place called Petit Pierre.  They always fought over the last pineapple tart. Claire always used to have a monopoly on them before Jess was hired. It was very enemies to lovers in a way Jess hated and loved with equal passion.

She felt a bit insane, hiding in the cafe corner from her kinda fling Clair, but needs must.  She also really shouldn’t be jealous, but well, ever since that first kiss her feelings had solidified.  She watched with a sour stomach from too many drinks and jealousy in equal measures as the girl showed Clair something on her phone that made her squawk her too loud laugh in response.  It had taken months of breaking down Claire’s too cool walls for Jess to make her laugh like that.

Embarrassed at herself, she drained the rest of her coffee and got up to go, cringing at the way that Clair touched the girl’s arm as she laughed. Just as she thought she had made it out safely, she heard from across the cafe, “Hey Jess!”  She turned, full blush blooming.  This was gonna be bad.  She walked over to the table putting on her best smile. “Hi, what are y’all up to?”

“Just grabbing coffee with my sister.  Oh! Amanda this is Jess.”

“Jess huh?” Amanda raised an eyebrow.

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Jess gave an awkward wave. And internally fist pumped. Her sister! 

“Anyway, Amanda you have to show Jess pictures of your new chickens, she’s gonna be so jealous.” Clair pulled out a chair for Jess and gave her a shy smile.  Jess melted into the seat. Maybe it was more than a fling after all.

[verdantlady]

What Lies Between: First Born

This is a chapter from a book I've stopped and started writing a million times. I love me some toxic family dynamics :)

~~~~~~~~

Esmerelle Lanthys did not favor one child over the other.  To even entertain such thinking was blasphemous and she would sooner throw herself into the River Nolti than create a hierarchy amongst her children.  

But when her first opened his brand new blue eyes and his cries ceased as he looked upon his mother, she knew without a shadow of a doubt she was his and he was hers.  

Born against all odds during a time of war to her and the man she had recklessly fallen in love with, he was perfect. 

There she lay, on a meager bedroll in a dusty war tent, with her Rasmus by her side.  She had looked down at her first’s tiny fragile body, wrapped in thin linens.  He seemed to buzz with the energy of creation.  She saw in those eyes, eyes that would soon turn a deep brown to match her own, innate power.  

 A prophecy of victory. A beacon of health. A blessing from her patron.  In that moment he was everything she had never known she could have.

She should have known she’d never get to keep him.  

If the first was a promise of power, then the second was a boon of stability.  With the war newly finished and peace talks in action, the second was born in comfortable bedchambers, to happy tears and a warm fireplace. Alaris looked at her mother for only a second before instinct told her there was food nearby.  And that was Alaris, stubbornly determined in everything she did and raised in the lap of luxury.

For the next many years the second and her mother would find it difficult to understand each other.  Both with wills as strong as steel and tempers just as fiery, Esmerelle and Alaris were similar in all the wrong ways and different in every other.  Though they loved each other deeply, they came from such different beginnings it became increasingly difficult to recognize the others wants and needs.  Yet, despite their differences, the second and her father had no trouble getting along.  Where Esmerelle was unyielding, her husband was mild and so Alaris found herself gravitating towards him in times of need.

Esmerelle was of the belief that time would heal the distance between her and Alaris, she only needed to give her the space that her daughter asked for everytime she pushed her mother away.

Somehow, her son and her had never had the same problems.  While her power came from a pledge of fealty, his came from within. Yet he had the same hunger as her, the same curiosity for the unexplainable. This was their downfall. 

If the first was a promise of power and the second was a boon of stability, then the third was an impossible dream.  The third was born to parents broken and burdened by loss. In sodden forests that the family couldn’t bear to call home, Ojia was born.  Esmerelle could barely stand to look at her at first.  She was sweet in a way neither other child had been when they were that little.  She rarely cried or fussed and always ate plentifully.  When she was only four she would hold her mother’s face with small pudgy hands and tell her mother to wait, because when she was big she’d fix everything and mama wouldn’t have to cry so much.  She broke her parents' hearts, but also helped them heal. By the time she was six she showed the same careless ease with magic that her brother, whom she’d never had the chance to meet, had had.  It made Esmerelle’s heart ache.  Here was another of her and Rasmus’ children, just as magical and wonderful as the other two, yet she couldn’t help but feel she had traded one child for another.  And that was why she had never given up.  After all, the first wasn’t dead.  He was only gone.  She just had to find him.

[verdantlady]

Since you left

Just a sad drabble

~~~~~~~

Summer doesn’t smell the same since you left.  It smelled like thick sweltering air you could cut with a butter knife. It used to be hot, muggy, sweat dripping down my neck as I walked through the woods behind your house.  It used to smell like campfires at the end of summer, marshmallows lost in red coals, water balloon fights in a soaked t-shirt.  It used to smell like chlorine and sunscreen and learning to swim.  It used to smell like cat litter and cigarettes and laundry.  It used to smell like an old rotisserie chicken, brand new fluffy kittens, and flea medicine.  It used to smell like secrets between friends, going out early and coming back late, never having to sneak because you knew where I was going.   

Now summer comes in whiffs.  It drifts through my bedroom window and beckons me from my bed in the mornings, but it doesn't smell right.  It tries to nudge me outside on my way home from work.  Sun glinting through the trees on my walk home and I tell it yes I promise I’ll try, but by the time I get home, the green couch dappled in sunshine calls my name louder and I’m stuck. 

I think you knew.  The last time I visited you, you weren’t quite yourself.  You asked me if something happened could I take the wheel of the car. I said yes even though the answer was no.  I think I knew too.  I tried to be my best self for you that last time.  I tried to spend more time with you rather than running off with friends.  I tried to grow up a little for you that last summer.  

Why does family get the absolute worst sides of yourself.  It's not fair.  It's not fair that they get the crabby immature you who refuses to do the dishes and hides in your room.  And especially for you.  It’s not fair that you don’t get to see what I grew up to be.  You only got the unfinished work, the trial period.  There is so much I wish I could show you, tell you.  If you were still here I’d call you everyday like I know you wanted me to.  I’d water your flowers.  I’d feed your cats.  I’d send you cards back.  I’d help take care of you.  I would do those damn dishes.  

Sitting outside on a warm metal chair set after work, I’m waiting for my ride home.  The sun has just freshly set and the asphalt is still pleasantly warm from the sun beating down on it all day.  It rained just a bit ago and now the air feels right.  I take a deep breath in, relishing the petrichor.  It smells like summer for just a moment and I think of you. 

I know all you ever wanted was to be a part of my life.  You cared for me in a way that no one else in our family besides my mother does.  You’ll always have a place in my heart Jeanne. 

[verdantlady]

[verdantlady]

What Lies Between: Prologue

Context? What context?

This is a snippet, technically the prologue, of a book hanging out in google docs doomed to be unfinished because I couldn't figure out how to give a straight couple chemistry.

~~~~~~~~

On a cool spring breeze a wisp traveled. Its fluffy body swooped through newly sprouted trees pulsing with the magic of growth and creation.  Trees that were far too large and overgrown for how young they were.

The wisp was brand new, as all wisps were, because they never lasted long in this form. Soon it would find a place to cocoon itself and join the forest in spirit like all its brethren.  Yet, even though it had nothing to compare its surroundings to, the wisp knew that this hot wet forest was not the one it had originated from. 

Even so, something about the smell of wet soil and the glittering of plants that were just awakening for spring made the wisp’s very soul quiver.  The air was thick with humidity making the wisps journey syrupy slow.  The trees sighed, their boughs heavy with growing pains and thick damp moss, as the wisp floated through their whispering branches.  The forest inhaled, around the wisp, as new life was being deposited in fertile soil.

Soon the wisp broke through the tree line, leaving behind the tangled heaving woods. It hesitated as it neared a garden that was just beginning to germinate. The wind carried the smell of crackling lightning, lilac, and loss. A storm was brewing in more ways than one.

Curiosity, an unfamiliar feeling, rippled through the wisp. The metallic tang of loss stung the wisps' delicate senses as it drifted closer to the source. Through the cracked window of a beautiful cobbled house it peered. What did it see but two beings who smelled of seawater and copper, twined together in a tableau of sorrow. 

As it drew closer it didn’t so much as hear, but felt their wish. To find something lost. Something precious and irreplaceable. 

The wisp had never seen mortal creatures feel such deep painful emotions. So it did something not in its nature. 

Maybe this was because it was not in its normal habitat and by the very principle of creation it had to adapt. Or maybe this wisp had always been different from its kind. No matter, it did not need a reason for actions that felt so right.

It floated to the being who smelled of summer storms and nestled itself into a place where it knew it could grow. This was much better than a simple dirt patch it had been destined for. Pleased with itself that it had completed its journey and, more importantly its purpose, it slept. And waited. It was not sure what it would sprout into.  Even so, the wisp sensed that perhaps this was not the forest it had come from, but maybe it was the one it was destined for.

[verdantlady]

full spread of my pin-up knights!! finally finished with these fellas. I just ordered a proof of the 2025 calendar and zines are on the way!!!

EDIT: the calendar is live!!!

[verdantlady]

Marcille & Falin 💕

[verdantlady]

Reverse Romance Tropes: Too much communication

Another prompt! This was for my writing club and I was completely stumped on what to write about so I decided on a scene from a novel that is more in my head than on paper. I lovingly call it the Lesbian Magical Detective Book :)

Also, I have a hate/love relationship with miscommunication trope so this was therapeutic.

Forgive any mistakes, I hate editing

~~~~~~

Alaris was enjoying her simple lunch from the cafe.  It was beans, rice, and fish like usual, which was a comforting return to routine after days of dealing with her new ice princess of a partner.  According to lovely Mor, the paperwork had been filed wrong… and that was only the first thing in a long list of complaints.

Mor slammed down her tray on the table. “This seat taken?”

Ugh.  What Alaris wanted to say was yes, but even she knew she had run out of friends in the Volgen.  There was about a ten foot radius around her in the seating area.  She needed to double check her deodorant was working, because she was desperate at this point. That’s what happens when you have a short fuse.

“Nope. Not taken.”  Alaris muttered around a mouth full of beans. 

The corners of Mor’s lips turned down as she observed the sad picture Alaris made.

“Right well. Then you won't mind if I sit here?” She said, clearly already settling in.

Alaris rolled her eyes.  You already are, she thought and then opened her mouth to say as much.  “I am having a bad day so I would rather you were anyone else.” The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. Had she meant to say that?  Definitely not. Maybe she needed to go home early today. Not like she was going to make progress on the case.

Mor huffed, already starting in on her stew, while simultaneously pulling out the incident report from the potion smuggling ring from their morning bust.  Of course she was going to use her lunch to rewrite it.  “I’m sure.  It doesn’t seem like anyone is lining up to sit here so guess we’re both out of luck.” 

Alaris grunted around a mouthful of fish. Mor rolled her eyes.

“While we're both here, can you rewrite your portion of the arrest protocol?  It’s sloppy.”

“It’s lunch and I wish you would stop talking.” Alaris blinked and frowned down at her food.  That had just slipped right out.

Mor sighed deeply, “Alright then.” And pulled the report closer to herself. “Then you can finish it after lunch.”

“Can’t. Half day.” She’s definitely leaving early now.

“What could you possibly be doing for the rest of the day?”

Quick think of something. “I’ve got an appointment with the apothecary for more dreamless sleep because I’ve run out of my monthly prescription.” A long pause in which Mor’s white eyebrows climbed her forehead. “Shit.” She had not meant to say that. And like vomit the words continued to pour out.  “And after that I’ll probably eat stew at the sad tavern below my apartment.” Oh God. “And later smoke a cigarette with my cat Ancient Demonic Script.” NO “And finally have an angry wank where I picture you doing paperwork in your underthings and yelling at me.” 

Alaris slapped a hand over her mouth. And with her other hand pinched her thigh just in case this was a wildly realistic nightmare.  Please let it be a nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to say any of that.” She rushed out.

Mor’s face was unusually red, as she cleared her throat. “I think you’ve been drugged.”

Alaris nodded, her face equally aflame. “I think that perfume I accidentally sprayed on myself at the potions shop might have been more than awful smelling.”

“Yes, clearly it wasn’t created for its smell.  Let's get you to the on staff medic, shall we?”

“You’re so hot when you tell me what to do.” Alaris groaned and collapsed forward onto the table. “Somebody fucking gag me before I say anything else.”

Mor laughed.  For the first time all day it wasn’t derisive, but it was still at Alaris’ expense. “I would, but clearly you’d like it too much.”  She tugged on Alaris’ arm. “Come on, before we discover another side effect, let's get you fixed up.”

[verdantlady]

This is making me want to watch The Decameron again, love me some wenches in love

yeah i'm wlw (wench loving wench)

[verdantlady]

Prompt: Write a scene in which a banshee arrives to wail

Another 20 minute prompt! Let's be honest it was more like 45. Really I just love creepy shit happening in full sunshine :)

This one has also inspired a full length novel oops

~~~~~~~

It was late afternoon when Charlotte knew someone was at the door before there was a knock.  She didn’t know quite how.  It was similar to what it felt like when you could feel the weight of someone's stare, feel the heat of it across your back.  She felt that presence out on the front porch.  Still and waiting. 

It hadn’t been an unusual day in Louisiana.  The air was muggy and hot, the sun beating down on every inch it could.  She had spent the better part of the day in the yard, weeding for her ma.  It was the least she could do.  Her ma had always loved that garden.  These days she wasn’t often up for gardening, or much anything at all.

Charlotte sighed and sat on a kitchen stool in front of a box fan that she had perched precariously on the counter top.  Sipping on a bit of lemonade that Lena had left her that morning. Charlotte smiled to herself as she thought about the way Lena had tucked a blonde curl behind her ear and blushed heartily when Charlotte had cut her some flowers to take home.

            The house was quiet.  Only the buzzing of bugs and the murmur of the radio to keep her company in the afternoon.  Ma was taking her nap and would soon wake up for an early dinner as per usual.

That was when the radio jammed.  It started skipping. Some radio host went “This summer I-I-I-I-I.” Voice warping and turning over itself. She slapped a hand over the power button cutting it off.  Odd.  Maybe that thing was just getting old. 

Then the critters went.  One by one they quieted.  The crickets. The cicadas.  The flies.  The frogs.  The birds. They stopped.  They all stopped. Like they were waiting.

A cold shiver slid down Charlotte's spine even as sweat dripped from her brow.  The silence echoed, loud in a way that wasn’t natural. Not one bit.

She stood, body unfeeling, her gaze pulled towards the front door as if magnetized.  She’d shut it earlier to keep some of the sun out of the house.  And suddenly she wished she hadn’t.  There was something terrifying about opening that door to see what was on the other side. A horrifying unknown. It beckoned her, like a black hole sucking her in, it pulled her step by step. 

She could feel the weight of the presence on the other side. Her body mirrored it as she stood staring at the cracked white paint.  Open it. Open the door.

She shook her head even as her hand raised to touch the door knob.  And twisted.  The door creaked open, harsh as it broke the silence.

Lena stood on her porch.  She stared back at Charlotte.  The breath was sucked from Charlotte’s lungs as she met Lena’s eyes.  They were wide, blank, unseeing.  The pupils swollen, glistening.  Charlotte watched as tears poured from them.  She watched as Lena’s hair rose around her, filled with static, as she spread her arms wide in acceptance, as if her whole being was receiving something larger than comprehension.  Then her lips opened and a wail pierced the air.  It burrowed in Charlotte's head. It split her in two.  She felt that wail radiate through her entire body. Echoing echoing echoing.  It felt never ending.  Filled with sorrow and loss and regret.

“No.” Charlotte sobbed. Sinking to her knees in front of Lena. “I’m not ready yet. I have more time with her. Please.”  She shook, her voice cracking, “Please. Please. It’s not time yet.”

The wail stopped and with it Lena’s unearthly presence shrank.  She collapsed onto the worn wooden planks in front of Charlotte.  Lena was sobbing too, her breath matching Charlotte.  She grabbed ahold of Charlotte's shoulders and pulled her head into her chest.  Charlotte could smell her lavender soap.  The lemons on her hands.  And something else.  Something that smelled like a lighting strike.  Something powerful.

“Charlotte I-.”  Lena stopped.  Unable to say anything.

Charlotte breathed in shakily, “Is it done? Is she gone?”

She felt more than saw Lena shake her head.  Lena stood slowly, pulled Charlotte up by her hand.  They walked through the front door, through the kitchen, past the broken radio, past the ancient washing machine, and the ratty rug.  To the back door.

Charlotte opened the back door.  It creaked just like the front did.  She stepped out into the midday sun and it felt like any other day.  But it wasn’t.  And no other day would ever be the same again.

She walked to her Ma, who sat, reclined in her favorite walking chair.  Her long gray hair was crowned with a circlet of wild flowers that Charlotte had made that morning.  She wore the light blue nightgown that Charlotte always thought suited her so well.  Her feet and calves were bare, naked in their vulnerability.  They showed her age, with bent toes, liver spots, and varicose veins.  Charlotte made sure to lotion them every night while her Ma read them a story. Her face held deep lovely smile lines and her forehead always looked a little pinched.  You couldn’t stop that woman worrying if you tried.

Charlotte reached out and took her Ma’s hand in hers.  “Ma?” She whispered, “You awake?”

Charlotte's Ma smiled sleepily, and sighed. “Oh Lottie I had the most wonderful dream.  It was a full moon and the trees were bathed in red.  You and Lena took my hands and we ran into the woods together.  We danced and danced naked around a fire.  I thought I would get lost but you always found me.  And then you lifted me up. I rose so high I could see everything.  Every moment.  I got so scared.  It was so overwhelming.  But then I saw you and Lena, my love.  Like two little motes of light in endless darkness.  I knew everything would be alright in the end.” Charlotte's vision blurred as she squeezed her mother’s hand, and Lena’s hand squeezed her other. 

“That’s beautiful Ma.” She whispered.  “Go back to sleep now.” Charlotte pet her silky gray hair.  She leaned in and placed a kiss on her brow.

“I’ll always find you when you’re lost.  Just like you always find me.”

“I love you Lottie.”

“I love you Ma.”

And with that her last breath left her body and floated up up up…

           Charlotte and Lena watched her go. The sun beat down on every inch of the yard. The frogs croaked. The birds sang. The bugs flew. And Lena held Charlotte and Charlotte held her.

[verdantlady]

Prompt: You are a ghost or demon who is about to be exorcized. How will you avoid this horrid fate?

My greatest downfall with writing prompts is my inability to write a short story instead of the beginning of a novel. I clearly need to work on getting to the point faster. I barely covered the prompt whoops. Here's a 20 minute writing prompt from writing club yay!

The editing on this is v minimal

~~~~~~~

Jenny’s head was a terrible place.  She was so bogged down by anxiety and self ridicule it was like a never ending barrage of bad thoughts.  Ghost hadn’t meant to fall into it.  He had just been minding his business, opening a few cupboards while he waited for his unfinished business too well… finish.  

It was really rather hard being a ghost.  You could only watch TV when someone else was and you could never choose what you wanted to watch.  Jenny was a Soc major which meant she had an affinity for documentaries and crime dramas.  That was okay. For Jenny. Not for Ghost. If Ghost wanted to watch stories about real people it would involve some drink throwing and designer bags.  But alas here he was sitting on the couch next to Jenny.

She was crying again.  Large crocodile tears rolled down her face and Ghost cringed as they went into her bucket of ice cream.  He thinks her boyfriend had dumped her again?  Honestly the first year of college was always so tumultuous for these freshmen.

He could barely remember what his had been like.  It had been so long ago.  And now he was just stuck here.  Haunting this year's freshman.  The reality of college was definitely less exciting than most people thought.

But the thing about Jenny was that she had the loudest dreams. They were vibrant and colorful and sometimes at night he could hear them leaking out of her and becoming real, tangible.  A sound, a smell, even a flickering image would broadcast into the room and ghost would be swept away for a moment. It was a miracle she had a single dorm.

He really really didn’t mean to go inside her head. It really was an accident. But one night, he couldn’t resist the lure of whatever was going on in this sad girl's dream.  

After she’d finished crying and passed out on the couch in a sad lump.  It was almost like a voice was beckoning him to float closer, to peer into her head.  And he leaned closer, trying to hear, and closer still.  And with a whoosh he was sucked in.

A ship was built around him.  Tall billowing sails, swearing pirates, the salt in the air.  He breathed deep with real lungs.  Oh God it was like being alive again.  Ghost looked around the deck and there he saw her.  Crouched in the corner of the ship was Jenny.  Still crying even in her sleep.  Her eyes were closed and it seemed as if she wasn’t aware of where she was.  Critical mean dark words floated around her.  Telling her that she wasn’t good enough.  That she would never be good enough.  That no one would love her.  Ghost sighed.  He supposed if he was going to be an interloper in this girl's inner world the least he could do was try to bring her out of this misery.  He said excuse me to a pirate who was swabbing the deck as he walked towards Jenny.  

He crouched down in front of her laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey.”

Jenny’s eyes snapped open.

“You know that this hurt isn’t forever right?  It will pass. And things will get better.”

Jenny’s brow scrunched and a big gust of sea air tossed her hair around her face. “That’s just what everybody says to make losers feel better.”

Ghost sighed and sat down next to her. “Take it from someone who thought that too and then made some very brash decisions.  I’ve watched many young people go through the same stuff as you and guess what?  They all turn out okay.”

“Oh,” Jenny looked off into the sea, staring at a gull gliding in the wind, “Are you like in one of my classes?”

Ghost sighed again. College freshmen were all the same.  He swears there was a script for small talk.  “No, I'm quite literally a ghost who fell into your dream.  Which by the way is great but you’re just pouting in the corner.” He gestures widely at the ship.  “You should be thankful you can dream at all.  Dead people don’t dream.”

Her eyes widened as she looked back at him, “You’re dead?”

“Uh yeah. Sorry for being in your head by the way.”

And then she woke up.  With him still in her head. He could hear her thoughts rattling around. He watched through her eyes as she stared at herself in a mirror, thinking bad thoughts. Stop that.  He chided.

“Oh my God who said that?”

Uh.  Oops? Sorry. I’m still in here.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Get out of my fucking head dude!”

Sorry I don’t know how to do that. While I’m in here I have a couple TV recs for you.

~~~~~~~~

Once her self image gets better he is able to leave her head and his unfinished business of helping somebody like him is finished.  The end. :)