tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76725231727733307932024-03-05T21:26:55.476-05:00Musings of a MessengerThe fantasy writing of Meri GreenleafMeri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.comBlogger264125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-90887385305409685032018-07-21T12:29:00.000-04:002018-07-22T21:29:48.719-04:00Welcome!Here you'll find the stories and writing-related ramblings of Meri Greenleaf. If you'd like to learn more about the stories and characters or read about my musings as a writer, those pages and blog posts are available in the menu above.<br />
<br />
For easy access, here are the short stories and novellas I've shared to this blog; the title links will take you to the full story.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Short stories from the <i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> series</b></span><br />
These are a collection of short stories about artists, inventors, and carnival performers. They're set in my lighthearted/comedic lgbt+ fantasy series <i><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/unexpected-inspiration-series.html">Unexpected Inspiration</a></i>. I'm currently writing the first quartet (previously a trilogy) of books in this series, so these short stories go along with those characters. I'm always adding new stories to this list! The stories are listed oldest to newest, so the most recent are at the bottom.<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2015/09/short-story-three-keys.html">"Three Keys"</a><br />Friendship, trust, and keys. Sweetness abounds.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2015/10/short-story-i-will-never-entirely-be.html">"Who Picked Whom"</a><br />The trio reflects on fate being weird. This never should have happened.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/01/short-story-new-beginning.html">"A New Beginning"</a><br />A would-be thief gets offered a job after a strange blue woman catches him.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/01/short-story-rising-to-challenge.html">"Rising to a Challenge"</a><br />A young arcane chef regrets her decisions and wonders if her restaurant is cursed.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/01/short-story-mile-long-cow.html">"Mile Long Cow"</a><br />Some myths and legends go back centuries. This one goes back five minutes and you'll probably want that five minutes back.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/04/short-story-soul-marks.html">"Soul-Marks"</a><br />It would help if anyone ever went by their real name.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/04/short-story-lost-and-found.html">"Lost and Found"</a><br />Sure, blame the newcomer when your stuff goes missing. That won't come back to bite you.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/08/short-story-roommates.html">"Roommates"</a><br />What do you do when your new roommate is an offbeat inventor who can control fire? First step: make him wear pants.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/12/short-story-of-parties-and-potions.html">"Of Parties and Potions"</a><br />A mischievous scheme causes chaos at a costume party. The healer enlists the help of a cat and a mouse to right a lizard's wrong.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2017/03/short-story-sheltered.html">"Sheltered"</a><br />Adair wakes up and finds that he has been left alone. He's not happy about this.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2017/05/short-story-shrine.html">"The Shrine"</a><br />A familiar face is discovered at the center of a stranger's altar.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2017/07/short-story-change-of-choice.html">"Change of Choice"</a><br />If Adair's choice had been different, would the chosen be changed? And why does an artist need a room full of spoons, anyway?</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2017/07/short-story-all-washed-up.html">"All Washed Up"</a><br />Revenge is a dish best served soaking wet.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2017/12/short-story-secret-shadow.html">"Secret Shadow"</a><br />A new friend introduces itself to a lonely girl.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/01/short-story-spirits-by-campfire.html">"Spirits by the Campfire"</a><br />Is the new boy a ghost or is he just goth?</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/01/short-story-surprise-gift.html">"A Surprise Gift"</a><br />Blythe is given a new special memory.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/02/short-story-adairs-domestic-fluff.html">"Adair's Domestic Fluff"</a><br />Aka "Extreme Makeover <strike>Home</strike> Dork Edition"</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/02/short-story-is-this-closet-mine-or-yours.html">"Is This Closet Mine or Yours?"</a><br />A look inside the daily life of some dorks- cats, pencils, arguments, and all.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/02/short-story-glimpse-of-past.html">"A Glimpse of the Past"</a><br />A telepath's magic forces her to relive one of her own memories.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/short-story-rooftop-reprised.html">"Rooftop Reprised"</a><br />The trio gets a second chance at their first date.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/short-story-this-for-that-request.html">"This For That (Re)Quest"</a><br />One simple request sends Adair on an adventure.</li>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">"Stuck With You"</a> - <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">Chapter 1 (Adair)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-2.html">2 (Etri)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you.html">3 (Firedrake)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-4.html">4 (Blythe)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-5.html">5 (Sol)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-6.html">6 (Adair)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-7.html">7 (Blythe)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-8.html">8 (Etri)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-9.html">9 (Sol)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-10.html">10 (Firedrake)</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/06/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-11.html">11 (Adair)</a><br />A platonic soulmate AU series told in multiple parts with each chapter/scene from a different character’s POV.</li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Novellas</b></span><br />
These longer stories are about the <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/magic-messengers-series.html"><i>Magic & Messengers</i> series</a> I was writing previous to <i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> and are set in the "Dungeons and Dragons" world my husband and I created. I've since moved on from elves and traditional fantasy, but these stories hold a special place in my heart as the ones that gave me my love of writing.<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2010/11/the-acolytes-map-info-and-prologue.html"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Acolyte's Map</span></a></li>
A powerful magical artifact has been unleashed! Unfortunately it has fallen into the unlikely hands of a hapless young priest who is now bound by its bizarre curse. This is the tongue-in-cheek tale of a half-elven cleric who is trying to locate and free the unwitting victim from said item's grasp with the help of his mischievous (and not always competent) brethren. Along the way there will be magic, intrigue, mischief, and a talking dog.
<li><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2011/08/hidden-magic-info-and-prologue.html"><span style="font-size: medium;">Hidden Magic</span></a></li>
A young elf takes up the task of hunting down a band of orc trespassers with the help of her centaur brother. When she stumbles into a pitfall, Meren finds an object: an amulet that gives strange new powers. Little does she know that an increasingly desperate young wizard is looking for the very same amulet and that their paths are destined to crisscross in a weave of chaotic magic...
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Writing Status</b></span><br />
Currently I'm alternating between the 3rd drafts of <u>Colorweaver</u> and <u>Sentinel</u> (books 1&2 in the <i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> series), but I'll also frequently write a new short story based in that world. If you'd like to follow me on <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/user/MeriGreenleaf" target="_blank">Wattpad</a> or <a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Tumblr</a>, I'll share the short stories there as well as on this blog.<br />
<br />
As time allows, I'm also in the process of editing/touching up <i><a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2011/08/hidden-magic-info-and-prologue.html">Hidden Magic</a></i> so that I can share it on <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/MeriGreenleaf" target="_blank">Wattpad</a>, too; I'm aiming to breathe new life into the story when I update it a chapter at a time on Wattpad and on this blog. So far I've adjusted up through Chapter 4.<br />
<br />
If you'd like to be alerted about new content (like short stories and moodboards), as well as updates about my writing, you can follow me on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/merigreenleafauthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/MeriGreenleaf" target="_blank">Twitter</a>.<br />
<br />
~Meri
<br />
<center>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7N6BPUjH9aac8OKqA2LMf4nVxwCWlJEItZY_3tNrUfV7AyDYIXLssmkxZqyRZpjieM_fT9XhR2X5gOonxNLbnMZTx0BsgMEL8zFThq-rTql08lQ4k29DTOVavPu3vYm4lywqiaHOYiqm8/s1600/wingedfox2.gif" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="127" data-original-width="127" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7N6BPUjH9aac8OKqA2LMf4nVxwCWlJEItZY_3tNrUfV7AyDYIXLssmkxZqyRZpjieM_fT9XhR2X5gOonxNLbnMZTx0BsgMEL8zFThq-rTql08lQ4k29DTOVavPu3vYm4lywqiaHOYiqm8/s1600/wingedfox2.gif" /></a></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-6350770384248511842018-07-21T12:27:00.000-04:002018-07-21T12:34:23.377-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" aesthetic: Colorweaver (Book 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJswv_ssaQS5w7rcDJ5sfmkiOaCWrpUc1tDSbk4FAvvmyr2CBU2cUYR1fm0eQ8k6b-yFCoyXXfNwdO0FXdhnZnUSyzjoHKi9LZ1mZS7VrUEyyGsNuuR9ZNECaRep1hnbNaQeNnrPCAfxep/s1600/IMG_20180401_163453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJswv_ssaQS5w7rcDJ5sfmkiOaCWrpUc1tDSbk4FAvvmyr2CBU2cUYR1fm0eQ8k6b-yFCoyXXfNwdO0FXdhnZnUSyzjoHKi9LZ1mZS7VrUEyyGsNuuR9ZNECaRep1hnbNaQeNnrPCAfxep/s640/IMG_20180401_163453.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/adair.html">Adair Cerulean</a> is a young cartographer and arcane painter who finds himself in the middle of a carnival with no memory of how he got there or why he’s wearing pajamas. Equipped with kindness, tea, and bribery pie, he befriends a cluster of carnival performers. Together they discover that Adair’s sleepwalking is the key to locating his stolen map. With the help of the carnies’ zany inventions and assorted magic, Adair tracks his thief to the coast, and in the process learns that one of their own knew the burglar’s identity all along.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile the presence of elementals heralds two mysterious foes who threaten the safety of Adair’s new friends. When magic returns by starlight, a plan is made, and the group rushes headfirst into danger. Although Adair is marked and forever changed, their gamble pays off in the end, and he happily acquires a new carny family along with his missing map.</blockquote>
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-53728504962045565702018-07-20T14:33:00.000-04:002018-07-20T14:35:50.787-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" friendship aesthetic: Etri & Firedrake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNSbDel5WHvcYBw0mEzFLsyG_IzEeHVKZMjyn8z5Ih5SJzBje5U6QTTcH_JpnrH6isrlemaqcyH8qXa84M9lxE9VC-owLzzR8qZP7b1vpEYa38n-XIX8uY3C00vAad09kyhTgKgOI95Lt/s1600/etri+and+dray+aesthetic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNSbDel5WHvcYBw0mEzFLsyG_IzEeHVKZMjyn8z5Ih5SJzBje5U6QTTcH_JpnrH6isrlemaqcyH8qXa84M9lxE9VC-owLzzR8qZP7b1vpEYa38n-XIX8uY3C00vAad09kyhTgKgOI95Lt/s640/etri+and+dray+aesthetic.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>Blythe rose to her feet and positioned herself between the arguing pair. They continued to squabble around her until she grabbed both by the hair and tugged to get their attention.
<br /><br />
“What are you so upset about, anyway? We’ll find the bracelet and… we’ll get you more sand?” Blythe realized how stupid this sounded before the words finished leaving her mouth. She rallied and continued, “Arguing over what’s more important won’t fix anything.”
<br /><br />
“No, but it makes me feel better,” Firedrake muttered as they carefully disentangled themself from her grip.
<br /><br />
Blythe kept hold of Etri’s hair, counting on Firedrake to follow through in a way she thought they might. Sure enough, Firedrake reached up to free Etri far more gently than someone might expect from two people who had just been in a heated argument. This is, if that someone didn’t know them. As annoying as it was, bickering was how their friendship manifested. The only way she’d found to reliably stop one of their squabbles before it got to the point of wanting to bang her head against a wall was to give Firedrake and Etri a mutual enemy. Usually it forced them both to work together for a few minutes of blissful quiet. Occasionally it backfired and all three of them ended up covered in oatmeal. That had been a strange day.</i><br />
<br />
- excerpt from <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/02/short-story-is-this-closet-mine-or-yours.html">“Is This Closet Mine or Yours?”</a>
</blockquote>
<br />
Unlike <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/07/unexpected-inspiration-friendship.html">Adair and Sol</a> who started up a friendship as soon as they met, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Etri</a> and <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/drake.html">Firedrake</a> gradually stumbled into theirs with no intention of this being their end result. Over the course of a few months they went from “you’re the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met” to “you’re okay, but still kind of annoying” to “crap, when did you become my best friend??” They toss insults at each other with ease, Firedrake using scathing sarcasm and Etri using dry wit, but woe on anyone who would dare say something bad about the other. Only <i>they’re</i> allowed to do that. While they would never admit to how much they care about each other, their friendship becomes as solid as Adair and Sol’s. Much like that other pair of dorks, Etri and Dray share overlapping interests (e.g. they both love to read) and personality traits (e.g. cynicism and low self-esteem). They’ve been kicked around by life and having someone to vent this frustration to who won’t take it personally means the world to both of them. It's an unconventional, dysfunctional friendship, but they wouldn't have it any other way.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-68274277185554641332018-07-19T14:18:00.002-04:002018-07-19T14:18:49.677-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" friendship aesthetic: Adair & Sol<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS35R3e-Ja6AXrinhTshvkZG_obpGC644kE7LXWg-m-asAXMq2S9T4JpkND_GiCiHM3m5jypY7XWd_LtPZqtrWqPH2fR9N4p2HWCa1Z4hE3ctk0a0qEhp93ShHaLXtm-y_XY7WkcJEm-SU/s1600/IMG_20180526_095959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS35R3e-Ja6AXrinhTshvkZG_obpGC644kE7LXWg-m-asAXMq2S9T4JpkND_GiCiHM3m5jypY7XWd_LtPZqtrWqPH2fR9N4p2HWCa1Z4hE3ctk0a0qEhp93ShHaLXtm-y_XY7WkcJEm-SU/s640/IMG_20180526_095959.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>“Sol, you know you're my best friend and that means I love you and want to help with whatever this thing is- Creators help me, why does it have arms?- but there's no way in the name of any of the nine Muses that I’m doing this <b>ever again</b>.”
</i> -Adair, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/short-story-this-for-that-request.html">"This for That (Re)Quest"</a></blockquote>
<br />
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Sol</a> was the first carny <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/adair.html">Adair</a> befriended after waking up and finding that he’d sleepwalked into a carnival. The fact that Sol didn’t find this at all odd and only wanted to befriend this random paint-splattered boy while Adair, when faced with Sol’s glitter-covered goofiness, thought “I like him!” probably says everything about the two. Their friendly, open, accepting personalities meant that within minutes of meeting, they felt like they’d known each other forever. They’re my sunshine boys, all optimism and kindness, with a heaping pile of creativity. Adair’s a cartographer and painter, Sol is an inventor and tinkerer. They frequently work together on projects and have easily slid into the role of each other’s assistant, even if there is some confusion for Adair over which wrench is which and Sol is tempted to color-code Adair’s paintbrushes so he can tell them apart. (And don’t get Adair started on how often Sol “borrows” his orange and yellow paints!) It always works out, though, because they <i>get</i> each other in a way that no one else has really ever understood either of them– creative minds can be a little strange. It’s now an almost nightly adventure for them to go dumpster diving for spare parts for Sol’s inventions and I’m pretty sure both see this as the highlight of their day.<br />
<br />
For the moodboard I focused on their similarities despite looking nothing alike. Adair frequently tucks his paint and brushes into his pockets and Sol started copying him in ways that only Sol would come up with. (In his underpants? Absolutely.) That text conversation picture is perfect because Sol always has these Brilliant Ideas and drags Adair into them. Adair probably knows better, but still joins his best friend every time.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-43178628932910120062018-07-18T16:39:00.000-04:002018-07-18T16:39:05.061-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" Aesthetic: The Dorks' Magic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG3Igc6VdxMPpXbNeGUYMr3yYYdaGJ9ZPyXRUz9UFDuHQuyyMB6sG5Lh2nSlksWaeJjD-mP91PbnL-WxcrKDs0fiN0nipFkXYnFHWu9pcAO5c7wpoxg55AKoIXu93-NG2XHKhMjaH4DjF/s1600/IMG_20180531_173935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXG3Igc6VdxMPpXbNeGUYMr3yYYdaGJ9ZPyXRUz9UFDuHQuyyMB6sG5Lh2nSlksWaeJjD-mP91PbnL-WxcrKDs0fiN0nipFkXYnFHWu9pcAO5c7wpoxg55AKoIXu93-NG2XHKhMjaH4DjF/s640/IMG_20180531_173935.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<h4>
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/adair.html">Adair</a>: Colorweaving (illusion/illustration magic)</h4>
It’s difficult to find an image that portrays Adair’s magic because what it generally looks like are just drawings and paintings. He’s a cartographer and creates interactive maps as his career, but he also uses his magic to animate the pictures he draws/paints. With enough experimenting, he figures out that he can do actual illusions that don’t involve paper. If he paints a picture on his clothes, this changes his appearance. If he draws on the air in front of him, he can make a 3d illusion appear. I picked this picture because Weavers (people with magic) have an aura of a specific color around their body based on the type of magic they have. Since Adair has Colorweaving, his is purple.<br />
<br />
<h4>
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/drake.html">Firedrake</a>: Wordweaving (spoken/written magic) and fire magic</h4>
Dray is a rare case because genetics gave them magic from both sides of their family. Wordweaving is an artist kind of magic that generally involves storytelling and written words. Dray’s isn’t all that strong, though, and they generally just use it to give someone a suggestion to follow. Normally this is to keep away people who bother or harass them, but occasionally Dray will use this for mischief. It has to be something that sounds reasonable to the person Dray wants to influence or else it won’t work. Dray’s other magic is much stronger and allows Dray to summon/control fire without being hurt by it. They’re a fire performer, so they use this in their carnival act.<br />
<br />
<h4>
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Etri</a>: Shadow magic</h4>
Etri is foreign, so his magic doesn’t match up with the artist type. With it he can interact with shadow elementals and ghosts, and he can extinguish fire and light. He also has the ability to travel to the plane/world of shadow. (I need to name this- Etri just calls it “the place of shadow.” It’s a mirror world to the main one, but doesn’t contain any living creatures. It’s debatable if shadow elementals are technically alive.) There’s a side to his magic that he doesn’t talk about much, though, and that’s his shapeshifting ability. He can go intangible and turn himself into a shadow, which was a huge help when he worked as a thief.<br />
<br />
<h4>
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/blythe.html">Blythe</a>: Healing magic</h4>
Blythe has the type of Concordian magic that isn’t considered magic- it’s seen as medicine. It’s technically earth magic, but in the sense that the land itself is magic and almost sentient. It chooses the people it wants to have use it instead of it being something tied to your genetics and family like the other magics in this world. A healer needs to be on Concordia’s soil or have some of this soil with them in order to reach this magic. Healing magic is worked by painting patterns on the patient’s body using a herbal paste. Because the healer is a channel for the magic and this is constantly flowing through them, they’re immune to illness, and any injury they receive heals almost immediately. The healers are also touch-telepaths and have the ability to read surface thoughts if the person is awake, or their dreams if the person is asleep. Blythe eventually learns how to take this further and see specific memories.<br />
<br />
<h4>
<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Sol</a>: Light magic
</h4>
The country Etri and Sol come from have two types of magic: light and shadow. Sol has the first and can summon light and fire, as well as heat up his body temperature. He often has orbs of light bobbing around near his head for extra light while he's inventing things and and he uses the heat side of his magic to soften and shape metal with his bare hands. He may someday be able to use his magic similarly to Etri and be able to cross over to the world of the light elementals, but so far he hasn't been able to do this. His ability to focus isn't great and it has prevented him from being able to do as many things with his magic as his brother can.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-53779583480162139672018-07-17T14:15:00.000-04:002018-07-18T17:10:00.996-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" Aesthetic: The Dorks<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJ8NmmMcPb04xA0R8bN4K1Gd3tzxwJiNNdvOsBJ2ZkOX5_V1TU6e9t3YDe2Vz0WsOzgKA3Qf7MeOm7gmuXy1JI_o0SRSJ2BizxQaKqCByf068GMYcxN0S_Hj248rM2CeM66zBdtaATdms/s1600/group+aesthetic+edit+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJ8NmmMcPb04xA0R8bN4K1Gd3tzxwJiNNdvOsBJ2ZkOX5_V1TU6e9t3YDe2Vz0WsOzgKA3Qf7MeOm7gmuXy1JI_o0SRSJ2BizxQaKqCByf068GMYcxN0S_Hj248rM2CeM66zBdtaATdms/s640/group+aesthetic+edit+3.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<h4>
Clockwise from top: <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/blythe.html">Blythe</a> | <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/adair.html">Adair</a> (and <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/unexpected-inspiration-character_18.html">Willow</a>) | <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Sol</a> | <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/drake.html">Firedrake</a> | <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/p/twins.html">Etri</a></h4>
<b>Excerpt from a short story/novella I might share <strike>(finish)</strike> someday:</b><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
Blythe’s head snapped up at an unfamiliar sound that wasn’t Adair’s pathetic– and kind of adorable– attempt at a roar. It took her a moment to place that it came from Firedrake. They were laughing. She had never heard her sibling do more than chuckle or snicker and this was a full-out, uncontrollable belly laugh.
<br />
<br />
“Dray’s... laughing.” Even as she said it, she couldn’t believe it.
<br />
<br />
“Strange as it sounds, I believe that is because they are happy. That is normally why people laugh, yes?”
<br />
<br />
Blythe nudged Etri in the ribs. It appeared that he’d picked up Firedrake’s sarcasm, too. “Why now? Addy and Sol are always this ridiculous. Dray usually rolls their eyes and walks away.”
<br />
<br />
“Perhaps Firedrake wished to be ridiculous as well.” When she stared at Etri, unable to even comprehend Firedrake intentionally being silly, he waved his arm in the direction of the three in the water. “Dray has people they can trust and I think they realize this. They no longer requires a guard around themself when they are with us alone. If you notice, Atty is not hiding his discoloration. It is the same with him, yes?”
<br />
<br />
Blythe got the gist even though Etri’s accented words were a bit confusing. When Adair was around people he didn’t know well, he kept his sleeves long so that no one would comment on the tattoo-like discoloration he’d acquired from once channeling Etri’s weaving. Blythe was so used to seeing this that it hadn’t registered that his shirt was off while he swam.
<br />
<br />
Her eyes darted to Etri’s arms. For the first time in a public space, if this beach could be called public, Etri had his sleeves pushed up to the elbows and his boots off. When he saw her attention, he self-consciously buried his bare feet in the sand. Raised with a different culture’s customs, Etri never used to show more skin than hands and face and even that had taken him a period of adjustment. This was a stark contrast from how he used to be.
<br />
<br />
Blythe should go bang her head against the nearest tree for being so dense. Now she got it. In trying to avoid a family-centric holiday, they’d all gone on a holiday with their family. That was why Sol had been in such a good mood this morning. He understood. He was with everyone he cared about, so why shouldn’t he be happy during a week devoted to family?
</blockquote>
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-51171239036555769342018-07-08T13:53:00.000-04:002018-07-08T13:53:20.641-04:00World Building June 2018 Master Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqsdu9i-3pWWTBnFu_H6nrb6uriefEallhBCCGF2GmCNVV1Sn8meybqjZT0l_ql28-_QBBZDa6d1mmh-P6KHE6jsuyl4HSG4UMtV60KNaX-pW7KnMOrWiUR8S0r2GB7QixKCXfn-S-zFq/s1600/pencils+worldbuilding+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="202" data-original-width="500" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcqsdu9i-3pWWTBnFu_H6nrb6uriefEallhBCCGF2GmCNVV1Sn8meybqjZT0l_ql28-_QBBZDa6d1mmh-P6KHE6jsuyl4HSG4UMtV60KNaX-pW7KnMOrWiUR8S0r2GB7QixKCXfn-S-zFq/s400/pencils+worldbuilding+2.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
I joined the <a href="http://worldbuildingjune.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">World Building June</a> challenge over on Tumblr last month with my <a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Tumblr blog</a>. I'll put links here to each of the themes that I answered. I try to do this challenge every year and it's a huge help in sorting out what I'm doing with my as-yet-unnamed fantasy world. This year I focused mostly on my main country/culture of Concordia with a little bit about other places. Concordia is pretty much finished being built, so now I'm just going to be adding small details to it as they're needed. Next year for WBJ I'm hoping to focus on other locations/countries in my series.<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174486875300/world-building-june-2018-day-1-intro" target="_blank">Day 1: Introduction</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174514861445/world-building-june-2018-day-2-geography" target="_blank">Day 2: Geography</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174553165325/world-building-june-2018-day-3-people" target="_blank">Day 3: People</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174585416620/world-building-june-2018-day-4-history" target="_blank">Day 4: History</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174619605470/world-building-june-2018-day-5-civilizations" target="_blank">Day 5: Architecture</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174651070950/world-building-june-2018-day-6-gender" target="_blank">Day 6: Gender & Sexuality</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174680501920/world-building-june-2018-day-7-economy" target="_blank">Day 7: Economy</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174703245360/world-building-june-2018-day-8-government" target="_blank">Day 8: Government</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174740990930/world-building-june-2018-day-9-religion" target="_blank">Day 9: Religion</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174772227160/world-building-june-2018-day-10-holidays" target="_blank">Day 10: Holidays & Traditions</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174903910645/world-building-june-2018-days-11-13-14" target="_blank">Days 11, 13, 14: Languages, Plants, Food</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/174872228030/world-building-june-2018-day-12-creatures" target="_blank">Day 12: Creatures</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175014809465/world-building-june-2018-day-15-technology" target="_blank">Day 15: Technology</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175031098490/world-building-june-2018-day-16-magic-more" target="_blank">Day 16: Magic</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175085510970/world-building-june-2018-day-17-medicine" target="_blank">Day 17: Medicine & Healthcare</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175063552435/world-building-june-2018-day-18-fashion-im" target="_blank">Day 18: Fashion</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175095903465/world-building-june-2018-days-19-20-war" target="_blank">Days 19 & 20: War & Weapons</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175128587945/world-building-june-2018-day-21-fun" target="_blank">Day 21: Fun</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175489437420/world-building-june-2018-day-22-work" target="_blank">Day 22: Work & Education</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175183421925/world-building-june-2018-day-23-the-sky-im-a" target="_blank">Day 23: The Sky</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175544487920/world-building-june-2018-days-24-26-art" target="_blank">Days 24 & 26: Placed Unexplored & Art</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175525199020/world-building-june-2018-day-25-pockets" target="_blank">Day 25: Pockets</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175584081555/world-building-june-2018-days-27-30" target="_blank">Days 27 & 30: Transportation & Weather</a></li>
<li><a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/175612231175/world-building-june-2018-day-29-communication" target="_blank">Day 29: Communication</a></li>
</ul>
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-26740337672078358832018-06-13T14:17:00.000-04:002018-07-17T15:01:48.959-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 11<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Firedrake's hand dropped into Adair's and they used this to turn his arm over. "No. The five of us are all a part of this now. Don't you see?"</i></h3>
<br />
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. This is the last part of a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Adair's would take place in the middle of book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 11 (The End)<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-9.html">Previous Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
The door burst open and slammed against the wall with enough force to rock the wagon. Adair's heart and hand jumped, causing his pencil to leave a dark line across his sketchbook. He erased and erased, but the deep gouge remained on the paper after the graphite had gone. If only the correction paint he'd tried to make had worked the way he'd wanted it to! Instead of returning a page or canvas to new, it only turned them invisible, which was even worse than permanent indentations on the page. At least he could draw over a line. He still had no idea where the invisible sketchbook had ended up.<br />
<br />
It turned out that the line didn't matter anyway. Blythe had crossed the room to give Sol a talking down- or possibly a talking up since Sol towered over everyone except his brother- for being reckless about opening the door. Adair sighed and closed his book. Blythe had been the perfect stationary model while she was inventorying seeds, but going into tirade-mode meant she wouldn't return to this until she cooled down. If past experiences were anything to go by, he had about twenty minutes before he'd be able to sketch her again.
<br />
<br />
Unless he could speed things up by taking away the source of her annoyance? He waved at Sol to get his attention, then winked to tell him that he had a plan. It was hit or miss if Sol would catch on to what a wink meant, but it was worth a try. "Hey, Blade? Sol's just excited because he found my paint. Let him go this time, okay?"
<br />
<br />
This was a stab in the dark, or at least a stab in a mildly dimmed room. Adair's yellow paint had gone missing from his bag this morning and he was pretty sure it was because his best friend had borrowed it. If any warm color went missing, it was usually in one of Sol's pockets. Sol always intended to return things, so Adair could never be too upset about this. Unfortunately Sol's intentions only lasted a few minutes before he forgot about them.
<br />
<br />
"I do? Oh! I do have it!" Sol poked through a dozen pockets of his vest before he found the jar and held it up triumphantly. "See, it's just like Addy said. I'm giving him back his paint. Just here for that. Yep, just returning my buddy's paint. That's definitely why I'm here. Giving him back his paint."
<br />
<br />
Adair covered his eyes with his hand. At least Sol understood the winking thing now, but his acting really needed work. Etri laughed softly from his spot on the floor next to Adair and leaned over to whisper, "Subtlety will be forever lost on Solei. Watch."
<br />
<br />
Blythe muttered an unamused grumble and began checking the wall for damage while Sol stepped past her and headed towards where Etri and Adair sat. Etri nodded once at Adair, then waved his arm in a wide gesture as he said to Sol, "Make the house for yourself."
<br />
<br />
A big, toothy grin meant Sol misunderstood his brother's scrambled idiom. "You want me to build a house? You've never let me build a house before! I can do that! I just need some nails and my favorite hammer and some wood and a couple of grapefruits and oh, some paint! Addy, do you have more-"
<br />
<br />
To Adair's relief over the state of his diminishing paint collection, Blythe closed the door and stopped Sol mid-sentence by talking over him. "I think Etch is inviting you to make yourself at home."
<br />
<br />
"Oh! Okay, sure!" Sol missed the sarcasm in her voice just as he'd missed it in Etri's and he hoisted himself into Firedrake's loft bed. There he flopped onto his back with a comfortable sigh.
<br />
<br />
Now that Sol was safely in a spot that couldn't possibly make any more distracting noises, Adair opened his sketchbook. With Blythe pacing the wagon and muttering to herself, he would just have to switch to drawing Etri. A tornado could touch down next to the wagon and Etri still wouldn't put that book down. If there was one thing Etri was good at, it was being stationary. And if Adair managed to finish this sketch, then Etri would become stationary stationary.
<br />
<br />
Adair had barely touched the pencil to the paper when Blythe came over and nudged him with her knee, somehow managing to block all of the light coming through the window behind her at the same time his pencil scratched another errant mark. "Do you hear that?"
<br />
<br />
Adair tucked the pencil behind his ear and gave up for the second time. He should have Sol make him a little ball of light to hover over his head like Sol always had bobbing in the air while he worked on his inventions. Then it wouldn't matter where Blythe stood or how close he was to the window. He didn't want to ask Sol about the sketchbook line problem, though, because Sol would likely try building a box around him to keep people out. Granted that would solve the problem, but not in the way anyone wanted, which was how most of Sol's ideas played out, now that he thought about it. "Hear what?"
<br />
<br />
"The hissing, yes?" Etri asked without looking up from his book. From the way he squinted, he could probably use the extra light, too. All the more reason not to put Adair inside a box.
<br />
<br />
Adair had assumed someone was making tea. Focusing on the sound, though, it wasn't the familiar kettle and no one had been near the stove.
<br />
<br />
Blythe walked back and forth across the room as she tried to pinpoint the sound that seemed to be coming from somewhere to the right. "Sol, you didn't bring a snake in here, did you?"
<br />
<br />
"No, that is not... I know that sound." Etri dropped the book into Adair's lap and jumped to his feet.
<br />
<br />
The act of being careless about a book worried Adair more than Blythe's pacing. He was pretty sure it wasn't a snake and he couldn't have been right about the tornado. He wasn't prone to premonitions. Truth be told, he wasn't very good at postmonitions either because he never seemed to notice things until long after everyone else did.
<br />
<br />
Etri took a few steps forward and raised his arms as if grabbing something from the air. "It is-"
<br />
<br />
A thunderous boom shook the wagon and a storm of feathers and Sol filled the air. While the feathers drifted down like lightly falling snow, Sol went soaring from the bunk and landed heavily with an "oof" on Adair's makeshift bed.
<br />
<br />
Blythe knelt next to him and touched his shoulder. "You okay?"
<br />
<br />
Sol's voice was muffled by the blanket, but Adair was pretty sure he said, "Note to self: build Addy a futon because that coulda been a bouncier landing."
<br />
<br />
Adair wasn't sure what a futon was, but the last thing he and his fear of heights wanted was something bouncy for a bed. Knowing Sol he'd get overly enthusiastic about it and make it half-trampoline. Adair shuddered at the thought. He'd stick with his mattress on the floor, thank you.
<br />
<br />
Sol pushed himself up only to be gently pushed back down so Blythe could check him over. "That was fun! Can I do that again? Please please please, Blade?"
<br />
<br />
"No way. What is it with people setting bedding on fire around here?"
<br />
<br />
Sol made a face as she helped him sit up. His clothes were a little singed and his goggles sat askew on his forehead, but this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "I didn't do that. I mean, I guess I did do that because I was up there, but I didn't <i>do that</i> do that. I'm pretty sure my bed's never thrown me out before. Is Dray's haunted?"
<br />
<br />
Blythe ignored that question and glanced over at Adair. He held his hands up, pencil in one hand and Etri's book in the other. "I was sitting right here and you know I don't go up there."
<br />
<br />
Etri caught their attention with a slight clearing of his throat and nodded towards the doorway. "No, this was the disaster of someone else."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake shot a glare in his direction and came inside to put one of their red sequined prop bags in the cabinet under what was once their bed. "Technically it wasn't on fire this time."
<br />
<br />
Blythe snorted an unbelieving laugh. "Of course it wasn't on fire. You completely blew it up!"
<br />
<br />
"<i>I</i> did no such thing. Heat-boy over there shouldn't have been in my bed." Firedrake tossed their hair over their shoulder and picked up the book that had fallen out of the bed along with Sol. Miraculously it was still in one piece. Adair was more confused as to why <i>Sol</i> was in one piece, though. Was the man made of rubber?
<br />
<br />
"What kind of idiot keeps explosives in their mattress?" Blythe harangue Firedrake as she followed them to the door. "If Etch hadn't been here to stop it, that would have taken out the wall and burned the place down."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake made an ambiguous "hmph" sound and walked out. Blythe slammed the door behind them, exactly the thing she had told Sol a thousand times not to do, and threw her back against it. "I have the most moronic sibling on the planet."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake's explosive tendencies aside, there was something here that no one else seemed concerned about. Fire couldn't hurt Sol, but still... "Isn't anyone worried that Sol could of been hurt?"
<br />
<br />
"Like he doesn't regularly blow things up himself. He's fine." When Sol stood up, Blythe turned her head to the side. "His clothes, not so much. Anyone got a spare pair of pants for him?"
<br />
<br />
Sol turned in a circle to try to see his own behind. "I thought it felt drafty. Hey, I think I invented new pants! Perfect for warm weather because they've got built-in veneration!"
<br />
<br />
Blythe tied Adair's blanket around Sol's waist with an expert knot. This was far from the first time one of them had to throw together makeshift legwear for him. "Ventilation, sweetie. And I don't think those pants would fly."
<br />
<br />
It came as a pleasant surprise when Etri sat close to Adair and wrapped his arm around his waist. Etri had become far more physically affectionate ever since they'd both learned that they had each other's soul-marks and Adair didn't think he'd ever get tired of this.
<br />
<br />
Too busy reveling in this closeness, Adair missed the perfect opening Blythe had left. Etri beat him to the punch. "I believe the pants flew well on him a moment ago."
<br />
<br />
Blythe groaned. "You've been around Addy too long. You're picking up his case of chronic puns."
<br />
<br />
Two things Adair loved above all else-- excepting food-- were making jokes and snuggling, so it was with extreme reluctance that he set his sketchbook and Etri's book aside and stood up. The hurt expression on Etri's face made Adair reach down and run his fingers through his friend's hair. "I'll be right back. I want to talk to Dray for a sec."
<br />
<br />
Etri squeezed his hand for a long moment before letting go of it with a nod. To be honest, Adair wasn't sure how much longer "friend" would be the relevant term for Etri, but that wasn't the friend he was worried about right now.
<br />
<br />
Blythe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder before he could reach the door. He wasn't a hundred percent sure her touches were platonic, either, but she was harder to read with this than Etri. Adair fully expected her to ask why he wanted to talk to Firedrake and was gearing up to defend his plan when she said in a low voice, "Tell Dray I'm sorry. I know they've learned better than to set fires indoors and this was an accident. It's just... one of us could have been hurt, you know? Even if Sol's immune, the rest of us aren't."
<br />
<br />
Except they were. As a healer Blythe's body healed any injury almost immediately. Fire and heat couldn't hurt Etri any more than it could Sol and he was half intangible half the time anyway. Adair was the only one in the wagon at the time who could have been seriously hurt.
<br />
<br />
She was worried about <i>him</i>. Adair hugged her tightly to show her that he understood. Blythe wasn't the type to talk about mushy feelings, but when she gave him a quick hug back, he knew he'd guessed right. "It's okay. I'll tell Dray."
<br />
<br />
He found Firedrake sitting on the little porch of the wagon with their legs tucked up under their skirt, ignoring Adair's cat as she batted at their long hair. Their book was opened but equally ignored as it dangled loosely from their hands. They didn't look up when Adair closed the door and walked the few steps over. "Can I sit with you?"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake only shrugged. Adair took this to mean okay, and as he tried to get comfortable on the cold floor, Firedrake shifted around so that they were facing him. Their makeup was smudged under their right eye and Adair wanted to wipe this away for them. He knew how much Firedrake hating looking less than perfect and how meticulous they were about their clothes and makeup. Firedrake was iffy about touch, though, and Adair still hadn't worked up the courage to come close enough to do this. Firedrake was so skittish sometimes and the last thing Adair wanted to do was scare them off.
<br />
<br />
The stare was unnerving and too piercing, and Adair got the feeling that Firedrake had learned this from Blythe years ago, unless it was the other way around. After a long moment where Adair had started to fidget, Firedrake finally said something. "Well?"
<br />
<br />
Adair blinked. He'd expected a snide comment as Firedrake's first words to him after the feather explosion and then Blythe's explosion. "Well what?"
<br />
<br />
"Aren't you going to complain at me, too? That's what Blythe sent you out here for, isn't it?"
<br />
<br />
Adair glanced at the door. He didn't think anyone could hear a conversation through it, so Firedrake must not have heard her. On the positive side, that meant no one inside could hear what was said out here, which would probably make Firedrake feel more comfortable. "No. I just wanted to talk to you. Blade did tell me to tell you that she's sorry for yelling. She was just afraid you could of hurt one of us."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake clutched at their chest and gasped. "Blythe? Apologize for something? Did I stumble into a parallel world and wasn't aware?"
<br />
<br />
"No, same world. Unless parallel-Sol also has that habit of losing his pants all the time."
<br />
<br />
"I would imagine a Sol in any reality would find excuses not to wear them." Firedrake picked at their nails before adding, "Look, I'm sorry about the fireworks. That was a stupid place to store them even if Sol wasn't going to steal my bed."
<br />
<br />
"I was thinking about getting a lock for one of the cabinets to keep it Sol-and-cat-free. You could put things like fireworks in there if you want. That wasn't why I wanted to talk to you, though."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake raised an eyebrow and tilted their head to the side. When the cat grabbed at their hair again, Firedrake scooped her up and dropped her into Adair's lap. She wanted no part of this, probably because Adair had no fun things to pounce on, and sauntered away. "Really. Then what was the reason? You four don't usually make a habit out of casual chats with me."
<br />
<br />
That was exactly the thing Adair wanted to talk about and the reason he'd followed Firedrake out. After some mental waffling about how best to bring this up, he decided to get right to the point. "You're not going to leave us, right? It's just... sometimes when you walk out the door it's like you're going to keep walking. I don't want you to leave."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake's eyebrow shot so high that Adair thought the gold piercing might get stuck in their hair. They opened their mouth to say something, only to immediately close it again. Finally in a small voice they asked, "You want me to stay?"
<br />
<br />
"Yeah. I mean, you've got soul-marks to the others, but even without that I don't want you to go. I like having you with us."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake was staring at their nails again. Adair had no idea how they managed to keep them so polished and sharp when they were constantly dancing with performance props. That staff alone would have broken Adair's finger in under five minutes, let alone a nail. Without looking up, Firedrake said, "No one's ever said that to me before."
<br />
<br />
Adair nodded his head towards the door. "I bet if you asked any of them, they'd agree."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake snorted a laugh that was so very much like Blythe's. If ever Adair had doubted how much time the two of them had spent together, this was the proof.
<br />
<br />
"I mean it! Blade cares about you a lot even if she's not really all that good at showing affection. Sol looks at you like you're the most amazing thing he's ever seen and he keeps asking us if we think you'll let him share an act with you. Etch... okay, he acts like he doesn't like you, but I've seen the way his mouth quirks into a smile when you're bickering and he thinks you're not looking. Darned if I know why, but he <i>likes</i> arguing with you."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake's own lips twitched at that comment. "And you?"
<br />
<br />
"Well, I definitely don't want to argue with you or anyone else."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake rolled their eyes. "You know that isn't what I meant."
<br />
<br />
Adair grinned and draped his arm across Firedrake's shoulders in a sort of small hug. This was the best way he could think of for answering that question and, considering the direction of the conversation, he hoped Firedrake wouldn't mind.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake went stiff for a second or two, then rested their head under Adair's chin. Their body began to shake and Adair feared Firedrake was crying-- was the hug really that bad?-- until he realized they were chuckling. This was almost as unnerving because laughing wasn't something Firedrake did any more often than crying. "And to think that I was jealous of you."
<br />
<br />
Adair gaped. What reason would anyone ever have to be jealous of a disaster like him? The only reason he'd ended up here with these carnies was because he'd been too dumb to keep his art from being stolen from under his nose. "What? Me? Why?"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake pulled away but wrapped their hand around Adair's forearm. "Because you've known those dorky twins only as long as I have and Blythe much less, yet they all treat you like you're one of them. I assumed since you were already in with them, that I couldn't be, so there was no point in trying."
<br />
<br />
Now Adair was even more confused. Firedrake's words didn't match the fact that they were still gently touching his arm. Was Firedrake upset at him or not?
<br />
<br />
Firedrake continued to talk, either not noticing that Adair had no idea what was going on or choosing to ignore that fact. "I wanted to pretend these didn't matter, that I could go somewhere else. I left once and thought that I could do so again."
<br />
<br />
Adair just stared. Somehow his plan to cheer Firedrake up had turned into ... whatever this confession was. And he thought talking to Sol was baffling. "You can't?"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake's hand dropped into Adair's and they used this to turn his arm over. "No. The five of us are all a part of this now. Don't you see?"
<br />
<br />
A shifting rainbow covered Adair's forearm where just minutes ago there had been a long black smudge: crimson flowed into brilliant yellow into forest green into chartreuse into deep indigo and back into crimson.
<br />
<br />
Adair looked up into Firedrake's face, always wreathed by painted red whirls that matched their red lipstick and coat. He did see it now. The yellow was for Sol and his love of light and gold glitter, and his tendency to use up all of Adair's warm color paints. Green for Blythe and her beloved garden that overflowed the wagon and grew on the patio at Adair's back even in winter. Blue was his own favorite, the color of the sky on a bright summer day and the color that made his heart happy. Indigo, the color of Etri's celestial tattoos and as dark as the ink and the night sky that he loved so much.
<br />
<br />
This was why his soul-marks were so unlike any he'd seen before meeting his friends. This was why the five of them all had their marks turn into perfect rainbows. The five of them were each other's soulmates and that was why it felt so right to have them all here with him.
<br />
<br />
He and Firedrake were the last piece. Adair squeezed Firedrake's hand and a sense of warm belonging filled his heart when Firedrake squeezed it back. "So you're not going to leave us?"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake scrunched up their nose and stuck out their tongue, making Adair wonder if it meant Firedrake felt like they belonged, too. Acting silly had to mean that Firedrake felt comfortable, right? "Of course not. You asked for it and you're stuck with me now, just like you're stuck with Blythe's constant nagging and Sol's constant lack of clothes and Etri's constant brooding."
<br />
<br />
Adair wouldn't have it any other way. "Just do me a favor and don't tell Sol that. He'll think he has to glue us all together."
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-77758835014309055682018-06-03T17:01:00.002-04:002018-06-03T17:01:57.233-04:00Adventures in map-making! I'm doing World Building June over on Tumblr for the third year in a row and I'm super excited about what I came up with for the second day. Despite having a professional cartographer as my main character and working on this series for four years, I didn't have much in the way of maps. A few years ago <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2016/04/map-of-concordia.html">I made one for my main country</a>, but the rest of the continent was a mystery. So yesterday for the "geography" theme I sat down with my husband and we worked on a map together. It's still pretty blank, but it's so cool seeing my world come to life!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihp42oBMWc0QtTtc-u5Qvnlqx0VwB5tO9TD3Fim_Zid9I8QF1pUVx438fl3-R1eumNN1HIolDUdRPu7Ykj7sdcIuTV36kCPaA1ZR5Q9nKjtIgh1aCoIHaizErnJvakjWsXfHxMaG08QfFL/s1600/map+3.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihp42oBMWc0QtTtc-u5Qvnlqx0VwB5tO9TD3Fim_Zid9I8QF1pUVx438fl3-R1eumNN1HIolDUdRPu7Ykj7sdcIuTV36kCPaA1ZR5Q9nKjtIgh1aCoIHaizErnJvakjWsXfHxMaG08QfFL/s640/map+3.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Concordia over in the bottom left has the most detail, but I had some idea of what to do with Galanvoth and Montglace since those are the other two locations that have so far been relevant to the series. (Montglace is where the twins grew up, Galanvoth is where Firedrake was born and where Blythe lived for a while.) I haven’t named any of the other countries yet. Stars are capital cities, circles are large cities, Xs are potential interesting locations, trees are forests, and upside down Vs are mountains. The squarish shape in the center is something we decided belongs on this continent: a neutral trade city/area. I’ll eventually add more dotted lines (large roads used for travel for trade) leading to this spot. <br />
<br />
I got the idea for how to make this <a href="http://merigreenleaf.tumblr.com/post/164943370052/askcommisaryarrick-jonkakes" target="_blank">from a post that had been going around on Tumblr</a> about using lots of multi-sided dice to make an outline. This was perfect because we have a ton of gaming dice, so I gathered up a bunch of these and dropped them onto my sketchbook. Since I wanted something a little larger, I used a file folder next to it for the other half of the map. I’m not writing about the east side of the continent yet, so I figure that’s probably less important for now. I was amused that it dropped two as an island exactly in the right location for Concordia!<br />
<br />
Here's what it looked like when I first dropped the dice:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BqcrupuSZPbFi8pKy2ictQ20ECp53mFtCSbnI4otACChjZXdhOze0CxxdH2Zr6k7j6YtzzrCFUiPmhAtHaPmIOJpfTSi29qsU-ccUXTtt72gsB4mPYphuJwyqU3wc9wODE6mVT0fLmn_/s1600/map+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="750" data-original-width="1000" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BqcrupuSZPbFi8pKy2ictQ20ECp53mFtCSbnI4otACChjZXdhOze0CxxdH2Zr6k7j6YtzzrCFUiPmhAtHaPmIOJpfTSi29qsU-ccUXTtt72gsB4mPYphuJwyqU3wc9wODE6mVT0fLmn_/s640/map+1.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
I started tracing around the dice and this is what it looked like once we got a shape we liked:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvIRfLxVCUn4Gcv2f54qfopC4y73jOLzSNuFGa_8KQko82LgS7gE9sFScF2p5drZBEANGrxSMRFNarqPKVqlEtJKIm0DLqgeD6HerLF_f3vDUHDClG2uB6NTwnwMTtUSTW_5X0gIBZDpk/s1600/map+2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="749" data-original-width="1000" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvIRfLxVCUn4Gcv2f54qfopC4y73jOLzSNuFGa_8KQko82LgS7gE9sFScF2p5drZBEANGrxSMRFNarqPKVqlEtJKIm0DLqgeD6HerLF_f3vDUHDClG2uB6NTwnwMTtUSTW_5X0gIBZDpk/s640/map+2.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
I decided that rivers make most of the borders because the ability to trade and have friendly interactions with neighboring countries was important to this series. Clusters of green dice became some forested areas and two pointy dice next to each other became part of a mountain range. My highest rolls are capital cities. The 1s I rolled are either going to be ruins/abandoned cities or something interesting. (I rolled a 1 directly between 18s in the northern part of Galanvoth, so there’s gotta be a story about that location!) The orange gem die became a trade road I knew had to cross through Galanvoth so Concordians could reach the center of the continent. That big D6 in the center spawned the idea of a neutral trade hub.
<br />
<br />
I did get a big surprise from this, and that was that Montglace is an island. I was always under the impression that it was part of a mountain range at the very top of the continent, but when I saw those two dice hanging out so far north, I realized how perfect this was. My husband pointed out that I wanted to add volcanoes as part of Montglace’s mountains for plot reasons (I need underground heat), so making Montglace an island works perfectly for this! I did realize today that someday soon I’m going to have to devote time to really digging into Montglace’s history and geography because I know so little about it and this is the main location of the last book in this trilogy/quartet. I also wasn’t expecting Galanvoth to be so large, but that works because it’s a very old country. My husband had the idea that because I rolled so many 17s in this location, and because this government is passed down through a family, that the regent rules through the capital city, then the rolled-17 cities are where the other members of the family have their royal seats or rule through there or something like that. I foresee lots of worldbuilding in my future.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-80583799583161523342018-05-23T13:48:00.000-04:002018-06-13T14:18:21.761-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 10<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>The yellow and red weren't so bad and Firedrake wouldn't have minded if those were the only colors the marks turned, but the green, blue, and indigo were colors they would rather do without.</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Firedrake's would take place in the middle of book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 10<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-9.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/06/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-11.html" target="_blank">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Firedrake passed the ball of gold foil and colorful crèpe paper from hand to hand as they watched their unsuspecting target pull a thick book out of his coat. This week had been terrible and to top it off, Blythe's friends were the most irritating people Firedrake had ever had the dubious pleasure of meeting. Adair wouldn't be so bad if he didn't take up the entire wagon with his cooking experiments and painting supplies. Why Blythe thought buying him an easel was a good idea, Firedrake would never know. Canvases in various stages of completion were propped up against every wall. The wagon hadn't been made to fit three occupants even if the three possessed a normal amount of canvases, which was to say zero. Sol continuously and cheerfully prattled on and on about whatever crossed his mind, giving Firedrake no silence at all when forced out of the wagon by the stench of paint. And Etri... Etri didn't speak much, but he was so frigid, so condescending when he did speak, that Firedrake had itched to throw him off guard from the moment they met. Now, so engrossed in a book and with the others gone into town for yet more cooking supplies for Adair, Etri was in the perfect position.<br />
<br />
When Firedrake had spotted these micro-novas at a market stall well off the main streets the others visited, they knew exactly what they'd do with them. The other three firecrackers were tucked under Firedrake's mattress for later where Blythe wouldn't find them. She would never approve of Firedrake possessing them, not after the pillow incident years ago. All Firedrake had to do was light this baby up and the resulting flash and bang would scare the pants off Etri. ... Hopefully not literally, since Sol filled more than enough of the group's pantsless quota.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake smirked and crept closer. The frozen winter grass crunched softly under their slippers, too quiet for Etri to notice. His nose remained close to the pages of the boring-looking leather tome. If it was that interesting, perhaps it would be worth borrowing later if Etri would agree to let one of his precious books out of his sight. There was the possibility, though, that Etri needed reading glasses and the resident healer hadn't noticed, so Firedrake made a mental note to slip this into conversation with Blythe.
<br />
<br />
A few more steps put Firedrake into position, close enough that Etri would experience the blast, while not so close that he would be hurt by the sound. They wanted to prank him, not deafen him, and hurting someone wasn't conducive to using them for future practical jokes. Firedrake pulled their current favorite box of matches from the pocket of their skirt and ran their finger across the rough surface. Finding a way to incorporate fire was always the best part of any prank. Not all of their ideas could include it, but when one did, Firedrake came prepared. Blythe considered it overkill that Firedrake collected matches, lighters, and various fire-starters the way she hoarded "more useful" yarn and plants. She just didn't understand how amazing fire could be, which was an atrocity considering that she danced with fire, too.
<br />
<br />
With an expert swipe, the match was struck and brought to the fuse. The flame danced on the tip of the match and filled Firedrake with a familiar sense of kindred. It was soothing to watch the tiny light sway, the color brightening and dimming as it devoured the wood. Blythe would never understand how calming fire was. She would never--
<br />
<br />
The match and the nova went flying out of Firedrake's hands.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake stared at the empty space where faithful fire had been. They had only an instant to register its absence when the explosion had them scrambling to cover their ears. Through the ringing came the sharper sound of Etri's voice. "Your head is made for thinking, yes? This nearly removed it from your body."
<br />
<br />
"I..." Firedrake spun around and couldn't make him out, not through the spots that flashed across their vision and not with Etri dressed like the gloomy, monochrome shadow he always was.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake rubbed their eyes and as their vision began to return, a different, flickering sort of light caught their attention. Was Etri holding a new match? Firedrake reached greedily for it only to have Etri let out a curse before dashing away. Firedrake squinted. No, not a match. Fire licked at the patch of dead grass where the nova must have landed. Desiring the flames that Etri had so rudely knocked away, Firedrake followed him. The heat wonderfully contrasted the brisk air and Firedrake closed their eyes, imagining what it would be like to be able to step inside and feel the fire lapping against their skin like Sol could. He'd shown this "trick" last night and for this Firedrake was all the more irritated by him. Why couldn't Firedrake have been so lucky as to have that sort of weaving? Mind control was nice and all, when it worked, but Firedrake would give it up in a heartbeat for control over fire.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake took a step forward, well aware that they could only get so close. One more step couldn't hurt. Then another. Then... their knees smacked against something hard and Firedrake tumbled forward. A split second of fear crossed with glee about the proximity to the flames, then the taste of ash left them spluttering. They brushed their hair out of their face and stared down at singed ground that wasn't even warm. They supposed they should be thankful for this, but it was a little hard to be grateful when they were covered in soot and didn't even have any fire to show for it.
<br />
<br />
When Etri groaned behind them, all the pieces fell into place. Etri had the opposite weaving to Sol, so he and his light-snuffing ways were the reason the fire died out. Yet another reason not to like him.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake pushed themself onto their knees, which must have been where the flames died last because it was the only part of their body that felt warm, then to their feet. Wonderful. To add to this crummy week, now their favorite coat was entirely ruined by the ash. It wouldn't matter to Etri who only ever wore black. If anything he better matched the whole mopey aesthetic he had going on, and the large smudge covering his face did make this failure of a prank at least somewhat worth it. Firedrake held out a sooty hand. Etri, master of impassive facial expressions, broke habit to scowl or possibly squint-- it was hard to tell under the dark smear-- and allowed Firedrake to help him up. This settled one thing Firedrake no longer had to worry about. Neither of them had soul-marks on their hands, so while Firedrake was stuck with Sol, at least they weren't stuck with his brother. One good thing was bound to happen in a week this awful.
<br />
<br />
Etri stared down at Firedrake long enough to make them feel antsy. Firedrake self-consciously brushed at the soot on their coat to avoid meeting those icy blue eyes and said, "Look, I know it was a stupid move not to let go of the nova, if that's what you're thinking."
<br />
<br />
"It is not."
<br />
<br />
If it wasn't that, then it must be the prank itself. Onto the next apology, or at least as close as Firedrake was willing to get to an apology. "Right. Then if it's about the nova itself, it was more dangerous than I expected."
<br />
<br />
"Perhaps, yet no. I may see your legs, yes?"
<br />
<br />
"You... excuse me?" Firedrake's ears still rang from the blast and they couldn't have heard that one correctly.
<br />
<br />
"I have a suspicion and as I cannot see of myself to check, I must ask of you."
<br />
<br />
Sometimes talking to Etri made Firedrake wish for a translator. His Concordian could use some work. "So you want to see my legs?"
<br />
<br />
"Yes."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake rolled their eyes. It turned out Etri was as bizarre as his brother, he just hid it better. Ever since Firedrake had wrestled Sol for the prop he'd stolen and activated their soul-marks in the process, Sol wouldn't stop asking to see his matching mark on Firedrake. Sol wanted to see their foot, Etri their legs... Oh no. With growing trepidation, Firedrake lifted the hem of their skirt.
<br />
<br />
Their knees, once covered by the black marks that Firedrake assumed-- and hoped-- would never change because who would touch their <i>knees</i> as a first touch, had blossomed into shifting rainbows. The yellow and red weren't so bad and Firedrake wouldn't have minded if those were the only colors the marks turned, but the green, blue, and indigo were colors they would rather do without. Most people were more fortunate and their marks only changed to two or maybe three colors. A full rainbow clashed with Firedrake's entire wardrobe. For this reason they'd kept their shoulders covered ever since Blythe had triggered her marks and now they'd have to do the same with their legs. So much for shorter skirts in the summer. All Firedrake could hope was that their remaining black mark would never be touched or, that failing, it wouldn't turn that awful rainbow. They hated the though of never being able to style their hair up again.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake let their skirt fall back to the ground and rubbed at the back of their neck. "I suppose this means I have to stop placing explosives near you."
<br />
<br />
Under the soot Etri's lips twitched. Did this mean the dour bore was capable of a smile? "It would be appreciated."
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-60150768928449840632018-05-16T13:03:00.000-04:002018-05-23T13:49:27.883-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 9<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>"No, it's not! The other was about Sol. This one's completely different. I mean, it does make them sole-mate Sol-mate soulmates, but it's a completely different joke."</i></h3>
<br />
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Sol's would take place in the middle of book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 9<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-8.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-10.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Sol shoved the pile of half-finished toothpick sculptures aside until there was a big, empty space on his worktable perfect for his Plan. It was a great plan. He fixed performers' props all the time and there was no way he could mess this up. There was only one problem: he didn't have the prop yet. It wouldn't be a secret anymore if he went and got it because everyone would wonder what he was doing in Blythe's house. Well, Blythe's and Firedrake's and Adair's house, since they both lived in her wagon now, too. Every day Sol asked Adair to move in with him because that would be like a sleepover all the time, but Adair kept saying no, saying that Blythe's wagon had a bigger pantry and space for the easel she'd bought him. It wasn't fair, Sol should rank above food and art supplies. Maybe if he built a really smarfy thing that was part bed, part studio, part kitchen, Adair would move in.
<br />
<br />
Adair! That was the perfect way to get the prop! Adair could pretend to grab his paint or something, then sneak out with it when he left. Maybe it wasn't so bad that he lived over there.
<br />
<br />
"Hey, buddy? Do you know where Firedrake keeps their props? Can you get me their staff?"
<br />
<br />
A few feet away Adair was doing his best oversized magpie impression in the very well-enforced nest that was Sol's bed. Much like Sol had done to the desk, Adair had pushed Sol's collection of metallic odds and ends and broken pieces of appliances to the side. Sol craned his neck to see what he was drawing in his sketchbook, but Adair closed it and set it on top of the nest-pile before he could get a good look. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"
<br />
<br />
Sol tugged the sculpture of Adair's cat free from his arm and put the lid on the glue jar before grinning at Adair. "I'm gonna fix it up for them. Dray's gonna love it!"
<br />
<br />
Adair shrugged and headed out the door while Sol went into planning mode. The staff had looked a little dingy and scratched up when Firedrake danced with it last night. That would have been almost acceptable for a tinkerer like Sol-- until he saw the struggle Firedrake had separating the pieces to take it apart. It was then that Sol had his brilliant Plan. He'd take Firedrake's beat up old staff and fix it up so that it was like new. Better than new! He wasn't the carnival troupe's resident inventor for nothing!
<br />
<br />
Plus Firedrake seemed so gloomy and sad that Sol wanted to do something to cheer them up. He'd wanted to meet Blythe's sibling ever since he learned she had one because Sol's own sibling was great so that must mean that Blythe's was, too. And then he met Firedrake. Maybe Firedrake was great, somewhere under all the cynicism and frowns, but they kept to themself and didn't really talk to Sol or anyone. Okay, Etri was like that, too, but that was just because he was shy and Blythe had never said anything about Firedrake being shy. What Firedrake needed was something to make them feel welcome and Sol knew he was the one who could do it, especially with Adair here to help.
<br />
<br />
How had he gotten by before Adair sleepwalked into the carnival? Adair didn't mind holding down things Sol was hammering or grabbing stuff Sol forgot to have ready or taking emergency midnight trips into the city with him to dive through dumpsters. Sometimes his drawings even gave Sol ideas. And since Adair wasn't here to use it right now, now would be the perfect time to go through his sketchbook! Sol flopped onto the bed and grabbed the book. For a moment the nest teetered, but when only a few pieces of scrap metal clattered to the floor, Sol made himself comfortable and started flipping through the pages. A sketch of a bullfrog, this one probably won't be helpful... detailed study of a paintbrush tip, no, not this one either... a rough drawing of Firedrake dancing? Maybe this one would be...
<br />
<br />
A red sequined bag dropped into his lap. "Is this the right one? Dray's got a ton of prop bags and they all look the same."
<br />
<br />
Maybe if he combined this drawing of a bullfrog with that old cuckoo clock he found, he could make something that croaked the hour. "Huh?"
<br />
<br />
Adair took the sketchbook from his hands and replaced it with the strap of the bag. "Remember? You asked me to get the staff so you could fix it. Is this the right one?"
<br />
<br />
"That's right! Dray's surprise!" Sol jumped off the bed too fast and stumbled as he slung the strap over his shoulder. The bag swung around and smacked Adair in the head. No wonder Blythe always said he needed to slow down before he hurt himself. Hurting Adair was worse than hurting himself! Adair was his <i>important</i>. He felt for a bump on Adair's head and didn't feel anything. Was that a good sign? Would there be a bump already? Sol hurt himself on a daily basis but he wasn't really sure how Blythe figured out when he needed to be healed and when he needed to be shooed out the door. "Sorry! Does it hurt? Do you need to go to Blade? She always tells me to watch where I'm going and she's probably right-"
<br />
<br />
Adair ducked down and out of his reach. "I'm fine. But are you sure you should do this without asking?"
<br />
<br />
Sol blinked at him. "Hit you in the head?"
<br />
<br />
"No. I mean, yeah, don't do that, but I meant fix Dray's prop without asking. Dray's really... enthusiastic about their props. I swear they were baby talking to their fire swords this morning. It was kind of weird."
<br />
<br />
Sol peeked inside the bag. Adair had picked right despite his constant confusion about props. He called pretty much everything vaguely rod-shaped a baton. In Adair's defense, all of his paintbrushes looked the same to Sol, and he had yet to hand Adair the right one he asked for. Maybe if he used Adair's paint to color-code them all... Right, Adair had said something about carnies being weird. "Weird? Oh, with props. All carnies are like that. Etri's favorite knife is named Pokey. Well, when I say it's named, I mean I call it that, he doesn't, but I bet if I do it long enough he'll pick up on it. It worked with Blade's boots Kicky and Kicko."
<br />
<br />
"And you're sure it's okay to fix it without asking?"
<br />
<br />
Adair trailed after him and sat on the step stool while Sol took the three pieces of the staff out of the bag. The stool was there so Adair could reach the table built for Sol's height, but Adair was iffy about using it. Sometimes it was fine, sometimes his fear of heights was too much and Sol had to work on the floor with him instead. That was okay. Having a friend to help was worth way more than a table that was usually covered in last week's Big Plan anyway.
<br />
<br />
"I'm not gonna hurt it, just make it better. Like Blade does when we get hurt."
<br />
<br />
"But that's different."
<br />
<br />
Sol eyed the staff before connecting and unconnecting two of the parts. They did drag each time instead of sliding silently together and the catch was funny. It was a wonder Firedrake had put up with this because Sol would have gotten it fixed a long time ago. If he sanded it down and then soldered on a different connector, it should come together much smoother. "It's not different. She's a healer to broken people, I'm a healer to broken things. We both fix things. The difference is, she can't make broken people shoot spikes or ignite with the push of a button, and I can! I mean things, not people. I can't make people shoot spikes. But things like this staff – Ooh! Maybe I can make the staff ignite! And shoot spikes! And then ignite the spikes! And then-"
<br />
<br />
"Okay, yeah, I guess that makes sense. You go do that and I'll... umm... be over here." Adair retreated to his nest, which Sol thought was a little silly because it wasn't like he'd added the spikes yet. Maybe if Adair sat there long enough, though, one of Sol's piles of scrap would hatch into a little trash vulture or something. Sol could train it to pick through junk heaps, and perch on his shoulder, and say important words like "hello" and "smarfy" and "look out, Blythe's coming."
<br />
<br />
But first the staff. No sooner had Sol pushed the third piece into place when a voice that wasn't Adair's rang across the wagon, "You thief!"
<br />
<br />
The staff dropped to the table with a clatter. Sol glanced over his shoulder and, not seeing anyone there, lifted his arm to see in the blind spot caused by his biceps. There Firedrake stood with their hands on their hips, wearing a scowl so much like Blythe's that Sol wanted to hide despite Firedrake being half his size. "Wh-where?"
<br />
<br />
Unlike Blythe, Firedrake's furious expression and hands-on-hips didn't turn into foot-tapping or counting. Sol hated when Blythe counted at him. It make him lose track of his thoughts every time and that meant never knowing what it was she wanted him to stop doing. Firedrake glared up from the level of Sol's elbow. "I'm looking at him. <i>You</i> took it."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake wasn't all that scary, really, not after knowing Blythe for so long. If all they were going to do was stand there and accuse Sol of... something... without even throwing numbers at him, Sol was going to get back to work. He picked up the staff again and ran his thumb over the second connector. "I took what?"
<br />
<br />
"That! That right there!"
<br />
<br />
"This?" Sol looked at the staff, then back at Firedrake. It turned out he didn't need counting to lose track of what they were arguing about. Huh, you learn something new every day. "What about this?"
<br />
<br />
"That!" Firedrake took their hands from their hips so that they could gesture at the staff. "You took that!"
<br />
<br />
"I took this?"
<br />
<br />
"Yes! You took my staff!"
<br />
<br />
Oh! <i>Now</i> Sol remembered why Firedrake was here. It was Firedrake's staff that he was going to make shoot flaming spikes. He grinned at Firedrake and nodded. "Yeah! Yeah, I took your staff."
<br />
<br />
There was a brief pause between them, then Firedrake cleared their throat. "Well? Can I have it back now?"
<br />
<br />
"You mean the staff?" Sol pointed at the staff with the hand that wasn't holding it. He wanted to be clear that Firedrake wasn't talking about something else.
<br />
<br />
"Of course I mean the staff!" Firedrake gestured wildly toward the ceiling now. "What else have I been asking about since I came in here?"
<br />
<br />
"But I'm not done with it yet. I have to be a healer to it because it's a broken thing and I fix broken things."
<br />
<br />
"There's nothing broken about my staff."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake lunged for it and Sol reflexively lifted it up above his head. His knuckles scraped the ceiling and it hurt a little, but he knew Firedrake wouldn't be able to reach it. If Firedrake would stop yelling, Sol could have had this done five minutes ago. Maybe not the spikes yet, that might take a while, but the fixing part would be finished. "Yes there is! I have to sand it down and solder on a new catch so it slides together better--"
<br />
<br />
"Give. Me. My. Staff."
<br />
<br />
"--And it doesn't shoot spikes or light them on fire yet--"
<br />
<br />
"It's not <i>supposed</i> to do that, you goon!" Firedrake hopped onto the step stool and reached for the staff, their fingertips falling short yet close enough that Sol feared they'd be able to grab it if they jumped.
<br />
<br />
Sol needed to make Firedrake understand. It was a present to make them happy and now they were just about the opposite of happy. Or was sad the opposite of happy? Firedrake wasn't sad anymore, and that was what Sol had been going for, but angry wasn't what he wanted either. "But it was going to! It was going to be a surprise and now I told you and it's not a surprise anymore."
<br />
<br />
"What do you mean ‘surprise'?" Firedrake planted their foot on Sol's shin and grabbed onto one of his shoulders. Within seconds they had clambered up Sol's torso.
<br />
<br />
"I'm fixing your staff. ...Surprise!" Despite Firedrake's display of human parkour, Sol was having fun. Hey, maybe Firedrake would want to start an acrobatic act with him. Now that Etri was going to be Adair's sentinel, he probably wouldn't be performing much and Sol was going to need a new partner.
<br />
<br />
"It. Doesn't. Need. Fixed." Firedrake hoisted their way up past his shoulders until they sat astride the back of his neck. Sol waved the staff around, wondering how well Firedrake could keep their balance. He was pretty sure they were holding on entirely with their knees.
<br />
<br />
The door to the wagon swung open followed by a voice Sol knew all too well. "Freeze, you two!"
<br />
<br />
Sol spun so that both of them were facing the shadows standing in the doorway and he was pleased when Firedrake didn't even totter. Maybe this could work! He'd have to ask Etri about his future plans and if he'd mind Sol taking on a new partner. He'd have to ask Firedrake, too, of course, but maybe they--
<br />
<br />
That was when he realized Blythe was still addressing them in what Sol thought of her "stop-screwing-around" voice. He had no choice but to hand Firedrake the staff, which they snatched with a gleeful cackle, so he could pluck them from his shoulders and set them on the floor. Adair stood next to Blythe and it took Sol a worried minute to realize he was turning red because he was trying not to laugh. What was so funny?
<br />
<br />
"Well, I'd say that's unexpected, but I should have seen it coming when I heard you two bickering. Dray, do you always activate marks by getting into fights?"
<br />
<br />
What was she talking about? Sol glanced down at Firedrake to see if they had any idea. Firedrake must have taken his attention the wrong way because they glared and swung the staff behind their back to put it out of reach.
<br />
<br />
Adair had returned to his normal shade of brown when he nudged Blythe's arm. "Can I tell them both? Please? Pretty please?"
<br />
<br />
Blythe sighed and covered her eyes with her hand. "This is going to be a bad pun again, isn't it? Every time you ask, it's <i>always</i> a bad pun."
<br />
<br />
"There's no such thing as a bad pun." Adair gestured with both hands at Sol and Firedrake. "I guess this means they're <i>sole</i>-mates."
<br />
<br />
"I knew it. That's the same dumb pun you've been making since you met Sol."
<br />
<br />
"No, it's not! The other was about Sol. This one's completely different. I mean, it does make them sole-mate Sol-mate soulmates, but it's a completely different joke."
<br />
<br />
"Oh no," Firedrake muttered under their breath.
<br />
<br />
Sol just stared at Adair. If he waited long enough, maybe Adair would stop saying his name and explain what was going on. To his relief Adair came over and poked him in the side, but his words weren't any more helpful. "You two must have got off on the <i>wrong foot</i>, huh?"
<br />
<br />
Blythe and Firedrake groaned in tandem. Why was Adair talking so much about feet?
<br />
<br />
"You're going to be together through thick and <i>shin</i> now, I'll bet."
<br />
<br />
Huh?
<br />
<br />
Firedrake held out a hand as though to keep Adair at a distance. "Enough is enough. Sol, he means look at your leg, you doof."
<br />
<br />
Finally someone was making sense. Sol did as he was told. The long black soulmark on the front of his leg had changed into the same rainbow of the other marks on his body. He'd always thought the mark looked a little like a footprint and... that was why Adair kept making all the feet comments! Firedrake's matching mark to his must be on the bottom of their foot, like Etri and Blythe's were on their hands and Adair's was on his back. Maybe Firedrake would want to share an act with him because they were destined to be important to each other. He let out a whoop and picked Firedrake up in a bear hug to spin them around. This was great! Now he knew who all of his importants were!
<br />
<br />
Firedrake's only reaction to this was to sigh when Sol put them back on the ground and to tug the wrinkles from their shirt. "I guess it could be worse. Pun-boy over there could be one of my soulmates."
<br />
<br />
Adair stuck his tongue out, which Firedrake ignored.
<br />
<br />
"Now that I know I'm stuck with you and you weren't going to steal it, I suppose I can let you have this." Firedrake held out the staff only to snatch it back when Sol went to take it. "Under one condition. You only fix it up so it works better. No spikes and absolutely no flaming spikes."
<br />
<br />
"Can I at least make the wicks self-ignite when you push the button? I really want to make it have a button that does something smarfy."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake hesitated, but handed it over. "I'm going to regret this. I know I'm going to regret this. Just be careful with it."
<br />
<br />
There was no doubt about it. Sol had the best importants! He met Adair's eyes and didn't have to say a word. Adair knew exactly what he wanted. "I'll go move the rest of the toothpicks off the table."
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-18968612721098583402018-05-11T13:49:00.000-04:002018-05-11T13:50:26.761-04:00Wreck This Journal and Characters<center>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8XrDK2ur4VlNCbx0-q_egFf9peHILSQBiCXWbMtCin-prXfO1KKRLAow_zDgID6Eomk87mDsfKG3KhMAqHnaARbAUCh8z324RQYXtCFXnl4JKIwedUOctsj_TFpxZeFuxDWZieYINxUS/s1600/name+jar+2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge8XrDK2ur4VlNCbx0-q_egFf9peHILSQBiCXWbMtCin-prXfO1KKRLAow_zDgID6Eomk87mDsfKG3KhMAqHnaARbAUCh8z324RQYXtCFXnl4JKIwedUOctsj_TFpxZeFuxDWZieYINxUS/s640/name+jar+2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLfIYu_eFo4Sj3cfjQ4wMtpEg2xnBcSKf58u98_2B24HTP_iFoHnaTSgbgLDfvfQ2eWNLEvpnUtV8wkZVkujne8YTz_072e7QE-fmFA_34qsEOeplWr_Valpj-tUoD7ZInLdZMIgWS7ky/s1600/name+jar+3.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLfIYu_eFo4Sj3cfjQ4wMtpEg2xnBcSKf58u98_2B24HTP_iFoHnaTSgbgLDfvfQ2eWNLEvpnUtV8wkZVkujne8YTz_072e7QE-fmFA_34qsEOeplWr_Valpj-tUoD7ZInLdZMIgWS7ky/s1600/name+jar+3.png" width="320" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNzS80W4PNA6qo1eRaDKwgOaIms_gAWhEMnng28KG_-GhisYtRXwgm0uUrNTsvXFWlT3UnqGCyapIlKql8C1mBotZIjGxst1C-qkuUxkS0WHIGX9TQkPJwVDKwrBur15rrE3Uc3hR0mCHk/s1600/name+jar+4.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNzS80W4PNA6qo1eRaDKwgOaIms_gAWhEMnng28KG_-GhisYtRXwgm0uUrNTsvXFWlT3UnqGCyapIlKql8C1mBotZIjGxst1C-qkuUxkS0WHIGX9TQkPJwVDKwrBur15rrE3Uc3hR0mCHk/s1600/name+jar+4.png" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnyl19hS0tDi6Jfbhjzh8X6jzi-t7WJ62WJkMO7XYsZ_Hcjk-m1CuManZUnyZGFxsho1r44UqDJ4BmAVfQDbOl7_fT6JpLltuOUHogI90D9RH9ld8ECNCiCXVEMuZxJtVgrq-xJIHvoiL/s1600/name+jar+1.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKnyl19hS0tDi6Jfbhjzh8X6jzi-t7WJ62WJkMO7XYsZ_Hcjk-m1CuManZUnyZGFxsho1r44UqDJ4BmAVfQDbOl7_fT6JpLltuOUHogI90D9RH9ld8ECNCiCXVEMuZxJtVgrq-xJIHvoiL/s1600/name+jar+1.png" width="320" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmMDVrOzSuEZ5qnd3KDVQi8ZS3ZV2IUFTJ_MfhWTlAdgegePYRFyua1NG-CtjqVBJ_cBO9tSTVjEJjW92_jaRbrS005zGHSOwSz6FTAcNif2uStR__eLna22XY7TklkodVLSu2sPwJ__G/s1600/wreck+this+journal.png" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsmMDVrOzSuEZ5qnd3KDVQi8ZS3ZV2IUFTJ_MfhWTlAdgegePYRFyua1NG-CtjqVBJ_cBO9tSTVjEJjW92_jaRbrS005zGHSOwSz6FTAcNif2uStR__eLna22XY7TklkodVLSu2sPwJ__G/s1600/wreck+this+journal.png" width="320" /></a>
</center>
<br />
This is a thing that I did with my Wreck This Journal that I’ve been meaning to share because I can see it being useful for writing. My WTJ is writing-themed, so for the "Make a paper chain" page I was going to do a link for each of my most important characters. I used the colors I associate with each character and drew little symbols next to them that represented their interests/story. (I figured I’d leave the characters in the next trilogy blank and keep those in the book for now because I don’t know them well enough yet to assign them symbols and colors.) I’m not sure how clear my itty bitty drawings are, so here’s a list:
<br />
<b>Adair:</b> paintbrush, pie, fork
<br />
<b>Blythe:</b> knife, plant, mortar and pestle
<br />
<b>Etri:</b> hourglass, book, pen
<br />
<b>Sol:</b> sun, wrench, screwdriver
<br />
<b>Dray:</b> fire and a fire sword (dance prop)
<br />
<b>Willow:</b> paw prints because cat
<br />
<b>Rosalie:</b> moon and a rose
<br />
<b>Feren:</b> books and a cut off braid with scissors
<br />
<b>Nina:</b> cooking bowls, pot, eggs, spoon
<br />
<b>Sapphire:</b> lock picks and a person tightrope walking
<br />
<b>Wysta:</b> plants and that medical symbol thingy
<br />
<b>Talan:</b> jar of light elementals, Adair’s stolen map
<br />
<b>Camille:</b> snowflake and light elementals
<br />
<br />
I got these all finished and started to connect the first two together as a chain… then realized that basically everything I did wouldn’t be visible because the links are so tiny. But seeing them lined up on my table? That gave me an idea. I laminated them with tape and found a cute jar at the dollar store and now I’m going to use these for writing!
<br />
<br />
Whenever I’m stuck and not sure what short story to write next, I’m going to close my eyes and pull a name or two (or however many) out and write about that character. I’m looking forward to this because I’d love to get a strange combination of characters who wouldn’t normally cross paths. ;) So yeah, I'm sharing this in case it gives someone an idea for writing inspiration if they’re stuck. Stick your characters in a jar and then become unstuck? I dunno, it’s oddly satisfying to shove them in a jar lol
<br />
<br />
~Meri<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-30923155622310631702018-05-08T15:02:00.000-04:002018-05-16T13:04:37.540-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 8<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>His impulse to protect and touch Adair was not only acceptable, it was fated. Yet he could not be sure... "You have many marks, yes? It may be one of them. Blythe, perhaps."</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Etri's would take place near the start of book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 8<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-7.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-9.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Harsh light far more dazzling than daylight prevented Etri from seeing anything but Blythe and the six wooden targets lined up across the stage. This was intentional; Sol knew his fears and lit the stage lamps as blazingly bright as he could. With the audience out of sight, Etri could convince himself that this was merely another knife juggling practice with Blythe, one such as he shared in solitude with her each day. Performance never failed to set him on edge despite the presence of one who meant so much and the aid of the stage itself. In addition to the lamps, auditory weaving built into every stage prevented audience distraction by muffling their voices. While sound could pass through the intangible barrier, it became muted, making it nearly impossible to pick out individual voices unless they, too, were on stage. Etri would forever appreciate a country where weaving was so readily available.
<br />
<br />
It did, however, have its disadvantages. When one of the troupe's acrobats hoisted herself up onto the stage and passed through the barrier, her sudden shout of Blythe's name came without warning. As Blythe turned her head, Etri lunged with his own weaving at the knives he had tossed. The shadow caught them just as they reached her. He held his breath until the blades safely passed through Blythe and into the target behind where she stood. It was unlikely the audience would notice the split second of intangibility and would assume he had intentionally thrown the knives around her instead of to her for her to catch and throw back. It was always a risk to use his weaving in public, but the safety of Blythe mattered above all else. She was his soulmate and his best friend, and he would do anything in his power to protect her, up to and including telling off the girl for disobeying troupe rules and putting Blythe into unnecessary danger.
<br />
<br />
He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves at the thought of confrontation, only to have his heartbeat speed up when the acrobat spoke to Blythe. "Come quick! Your roommate's sick and Wysta wants you!"
<br />
<br />
Logic would have dictated remaining behind for further information. Logic, however, was irrelevant when the situation involved Adair. His condition must be serious if Wysta deemed it important enough to send someone to interrupt their performance in such a dangerous and urgent manner. Despite the message intended for Blythe, Etri dashed through the carnival and then the performers' camp at her heels. Adair had been in perfect health when they'd left him with Sol, so perhaps one of Sol's inventions backfired and caused him harm. If this were the case, surely the message would have stated an injury and not an illness...
<br />
<br />
If it was an illness, it was one entirely unfamiliar and, at least at first glance, not dire. Adair sat next to Sol on one of the cots in the lead healer's wagon and it was Sol's reaction, not Adair's, that first belied the normality of the scene. He clutched the hand of his friend so tightly he hid from view the rainbow mark designating Adair as a soulmate. However, it was Adair's complete lack of reaction to Sol's painful grasp, Blythe's touch to his forehead, or Wysta's repeated attempts at calling his name that concerned Etri most. Adair had proven himself much like Sol in that sitting still for any length of time should be an impossibility, yet here he was, still as a statue or one of Sol's garbage sculptures. His soft brown eyes, usually so warm and amiable, failed to notice the presence of his friends or their concern. Despite all effort to gain his attention, he continued to stare vacantly at the wall across the wagon.
<br />
<br />
Blythe grabbed Sol by the front of his shirt and yanked him off the bed. "What happened to him?"
<br />
<br />
Sol released Adair's hand so he could free himself from her grip. Adair's hand and arm hovered in the air for several seconds before slowly lowering to rest on the bed. "I don't know! We were just playing cards and I got bored and so we went to find you guys and then he started doing this thing where he just <i>stares</i>. I had to carry him here and it's like he doesn't see me. Why doesn't he see me? Is he mad at me? I was trying to let him win because he didn't know how to play the game and I wanted to teach him but I'm not very good at teaching and do you think he's mad because I was cheating for him? Should I-"
<br />
<br />
"Solei, please sit over there so Blythe and I may work." Wysta's bracelets jingled when she pointed to the cot against the far wall. "I said you may be contagious and you disobeyed my instructions to stay at home."
<br />
<br />
Sol's lower lip and voice both trembled. "Did I hurt him? I didn't mean to hurt him! He's my buddy and my important and I never want to hurt him!"
<br />
<br />
Blythe looped an arm around his waist and led him over to the corner cot. "I know you don't. Please sit down so we can figure this out, okay?"
<br />
<br />
With a sniffle and a nod, Sol listened. After Blythe and Wysta finished checking over Adair and had began to theorize about the potential cause of his condition, Etri took Sol's vacated spot on the bed. He wished to take Adair's hand as Sol had done, to reassure himself that Adair remained flesh and blood, and it was an effort of will to keep his hands firmly locked together on his lap. It would be improper to allow himself to touch someone he had known only a few days.
<br />
<br />
To avoid the temptation of contact, Etri stared down at his own hands and the half-changed marks representing Blythe and Sol. On both hands the shifting rainbow granted by his two discovered soulmates intermixed with the original black stain indicating a soulmate yet to be discovered. Now, as often happened when his attention was drawn to his hands, he found himself questioning his decision to hold onto old traditions. He could instead touch as freely as Sol and discard the last few customs as his brother had done. It was always the fear of being found unwelcome, of the other person recoiling away, that kept this decision alive. It was possible Adair would not mind and that a few days of friendship no longer meant impropriety, yet Etri would not try this now, not when Adair could not respond with either consent or disapproval.
<br />
<br />
When the healers' conversation turned into an interrogation of Sol, Etri closed his eyes to attempt to shut it out. Raised voices, even when not directed at him, left him unsettled and with his stomach in knots. He breathed in deeply once, twice. They were not angry at Sol, nor would anyone confront Etri himself. He would remain here for the sake of Adair. Adair was his... yes, Adair was his friend and he would not allow discomfort to chase him away. Caught inside his own head, it took Etri a few moments to realize that the bed had shaken. The healers were across the room with Sol, which meant... Etri's eyes flew open in time to see Adair pass through the doorway. No one else noticed; still they argued only a few feet away. A choice between delaying to get Blythe's attention and following Adair to be sure of his health was not a choice. The safety of Adair could never be a choice. He left one of his knives on the bed to alert Blythe that he was with Adair, then sprinted after him.
<br />
<br />
Etri need not have hurried because Adair was in no hurry. He walked as though his legs were weighted, with slow steps heading for- "Atair! Watch out!"
<br />
<br />
Adair swerved just in time to miss walking face-first into the neighboring wagon. Etri's hope that his warning had been heeded was crushed when Adair continued his slow, steady trudge westward with no reaction to the presence of Etri or anything smaller than a house. If Adair would not respond, perhaps his destination would grant an answer as to why he walked in a daze. With this thought in mind, Etri stayed near Adair when he left the camp and entered the city. Adair had no more narrow misses with walls, but the same could not be said for people. Adair paid them no more heed than he had Etri, which resulted in collisions with anyone who blocked his path. The strange looks they received did nothing to ease Etri's earlier apprehension and his apologies quickly became short, anxious mutterings directed more to the ground than to the victims of Adair's inattentiveness.
<br />
<br />
He turned away from apologizing to the shoes of yet another stranger to find Adair no longer in sight. In a sea of taller people, Adair was a head of dark hair among many. It was only the flash of his familiar blue shirt that caught Etri's eye in time to prevent disaster. As Adair started his oblivious shamble across the street, Etri grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him out of harm's way. He ignored the rude gestures and shouts and deposited Adair back on the sidewalk, only to have him step off the curb again. Etri's worry about touch was rendered moot. Again he caught Adair by the waist and carried him away from the street.
<br />
<br />
Once out of the flow of pedestrians, Etri set Adair down in the doorstep alcove of a shop closed for the night. Having learned better than to let go, he rested his hands on Adair's shoulders. Adair attempted to continue his blunderous trek until he found himself stopped by Etri, yet still he tried to walk forward. Etri had no desire to hurt him, so instead of tightening his hold, he leaned down until he was eye level with his friend. Was it purely hope causing him to see what there was not, or was there a little more spark of life in Adair's eyes? They seemed a little more focused, although not enough for Etri to believe that Adair was aware of him. A passing snide comment about getting a room made Etri step away, but he gritted his teeth through the worry that they were being watched and returned his hands to Adair's shoulders. Softly he spoke Adair's name.
<br />
<br />
All remained as it was until Adair blinked a few times, slowly, but in much more rapid succession than his previous stare. His hand came up to rest against Etri's chest. Etri fought the urge to check that they were not being watched and spoke his name again.
<br />
<br />
This time it was enough. Adair's eyes came into focus, then darted around as he took in their surroundings. He clutched the front of Etri's coat with a hand that trembled slightly. "Etch? What happened? Where are we?"
<br />
<br />
Etri brushed Adair's shoulders with his thumbs in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "You are safe. You were unresponsive and Blythe and Wysta could not discern why. You then walked into the city as though in a daze. Are you now well?"
<br />
<br />
"Yeah... At least, I think..." A frown came over Adair's face and he tipped his head backwards until it tapped the wall behind him. "I did that sleepwalking thing again, didn't I? That's how I got to the carnival in the first place."
<br />
<br />
"You have done this before?" Etri let his one hand fall from Adair's shoulder and brought the other to rest between Adair's head and the wall. The last thing Blythe would want would be Adair bringing harm to himself. While the building stones were not traffic, Etri wished to take no chances.
<br />
<br />
Adair smiled sheepishly and stood straight, releasing Etri's coat and lowering his arm. "Yeah. It's my map doing it. It's over... there. Yeah, that way. I gotta go get it while I can still feel where it is. I think it wants me to find it."
<br />
<br />
As much as Adair's stolen art held importance to him, it must not be allowed to let him act so rashly. "I believe first you should see Blythe. You nearly walked into traffic and I wish her to determine that you are truly well before you seek that which you lost."
<br />
<br />
"I did what?"
<br />
<br />
It seemed that Adair had no memory of what occurred while he was in a weaving-induced trance. This was all the more reason to return him to the healers. "You were unaware of your surroundings. I brought you here so you would not be harmed."
<br />
<br />
Adair bumped his head against the wall, this time with more vigor. "This is so dumb. <i>I'm</i> so dumb. If I didn't let it get stolen, this wouldn't be happening."
<br />
<br />
Again Etri placed his hand between Adair and the wall. "Please stop this. You must not come to harm now that you are awake."
<br />
<br />
"I'm not going to hurt myself." To Etri's relief, though, Adair stopped. A moment later Adair took his hand and held it between them. "Etch! When did this happen?"
<br />
<br />
A realization that had nothing to do with Adair's question left Etri reeling, as though he was the one knocking his head against stone. Adair did not mind his touch, which meant it was proper to touch him. Adair was not disgusted or thought it unwelcome. He <i>wanted</i> to touch Etri.
<br />
<br />
It wasn't until Adair held their joined hands up to eye level that Etri saw that which Adair questioned: his soulmark had changed. A quick check of the other hand revealed that both were now a shifting chromatic pattern. He knew he had not touched anyone else, only Adair. "It is likely when I carried you from the street."
<br />
<br />
Adair gasped and dropped Etri's hand, leaving him wondering if his assumption about Adair's approval of touch was incorrect. Adair lifted the hem of his shirt, which was bewildering until Etri noticed the matching marks peeking out from Adair's waistband above both hips. Before Etri could say anything, Adair threw his arms around his neck. "You're my sentinel!"
<br />
<br />
Etri wrapped his arms around Adair and he could swear he felt Adair smile even through the thick coat he wore. His impulse to protect and touch Adair was not only acceptable, it was fated. Yet he could not be sure... "You have many marks, yes? It may be one of them. Blythe, perhaps."
<br />
<br />
Adair pulled back only far enough to look up at Etri and the intensity in his gaze denied all possibility of an incorrect guess. Etri would do anything to keep this boy with his expressive eyes in his life forever. "You protected me. Blythe and Sol care, but you're the one who kept me from getting flattened. You knew I could be in danger and followed me. One of my marks has to be a sentinel's. That's you, assuming you want to be stuck with an artist who sleepwalks into carnivals and traffic."
<br />
<br />
There was no hesitation or doubt left in Etri's mind. As a sentinel, he would protect Adair no matter the situation, and if that meant protecting Adair from himself until he recovered his map, so be it. If it meant a furious Blythe because they retrieved said map before checking in with her, so be that, as well. Etri took a step back and caught Adair's hand. "Lead me to your map. I will help in whatever manner you wish."
<br />
<br />
Adair's warm fingers threading through Etri's matched the warmth of the smile he gave. Perhaps it was not such an improper thing to touch someone after a mere week of friendship.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-87736957716012545212018-05-03T14:54:00.000-04:002018-07-28T16:30:34.542-04:00April Camp NaNo Wrap Up Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP2TqAoMDfVhc17B-wQWl2DbRVWkecCKATHZkdr92DAdx85ixAyzohD1Qntk6zp9jZNAfRnTjJFLdg5qg0pCTNH0gIRIUPWsI1l7ep1ky_DByR5kCK2H9xT3fmTq-4Wdk5UlKcpQ1YTXs/s1600/camp+nano+april+2018+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="800" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDP2TqAoMDfVhc17B-wQWl2DbRVWkecCKATHZkdr92DAdx85ixAyzohD1Qntk6zp9jZNAfRnTjJFLdg5qg0pCTNH0gIRIUPWsI1l7ep1ky_DByR5kCK2H9xT3fmTq-4Wdk5UlKcpQ1YTXs/s640/camp+nano+april+2018+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
April's Camp NaNo was a success! My goal was 40 hours of series-related stuff and I hit 46 hours. Towards the end of the month I started to run out of steam, but I only missed one day, so yay! I’m proud of how much I did even with my attention split all over the place:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Edited the first 11 chapters of book 1</li>
<li>Wrote 3 chapters of my Soulmate AU</li>
<li>Wrote a short story from my antagonist's POV</li>
<li>Wrote bios and edited some excerpts for five moodboards</li>
</ul>
<br />
I think there were a few other little things in there, mostly about brainstorming book 1 adjustments. One thing I learned during this Camp NaNo is that I start to lose motivation when I'm not writing new things regularly. Putting my focus on editing was a great thing because it means I got some of that done... but I could have edited more if I'd also been writing since I kinda lost my excitement for the story. Let's face it, marking up things that need to be changed is kind of boring.<br />
<br />
<b>May Goals:</b><br />
I'm going to try to write something at least five days a week. I'm not going to aim for a lot of writing, maybe 500 words a day, but I have this bad habit of freezing up and not being able to write anything if I’m not doing it regularly. I'm thinking I might dive back into my rewrite of book 2 while I'm editing book 1. Basically I’ve been feeling pretty bleh about writing probably because I’m not doing it enough and I’d like to get my enthusiasm back. :)
<br />
<br />
<b>Summer Goals: </b><br />
To finish the Soulmate AU (I have 4 chapters left), finish editing book 1, and write a good chunk of book 2. I’d love to finish this draft of book 2 before November so that I can write book 3 for NaNo this year. Ultimately I’d like to keep my books staggered so none of them are at the same stage of editing. So like once I’m done marking up plot holes in book 1 and move onto writing that one again, book 2 will be at the point where I’m marking up plot holes and book 3 will be in the first draft. This sounds so daunting, though, but I know if I’m writing and editing regularly, I’ll be motivated to do it. (I hope. Or I’ll get distracted by short stories again lol.)<br />
<br />
~MeriMeri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-33487621114171078142018-04-25T13:59:00.000-04:002018-05-08T15:02:52.621-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 7<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Her head whipped around when the door closed. It couldn't be <b>him</b>. He was only here because he needed their help finding his stolen map, not because he belonged with the carnival troupe.</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Blythe's would take place near the start of book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 7<br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-6.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/05/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-8.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
The first thing Blythe noticed when she walked through the door was the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg permeating her home. The second thing she noticed, after hanging up her coat and heading towards the kitchen, was her new roommate-of-sorts stuffing his face in the midst of a mess. The third thing... was that her stove? What happened to her stove?
<br />
<br />
She cleared her throat. When he didn't notice, she repeated it louder and asked, "What's going on in here?"
<br />
<br />
Adair spun around with his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk and crumbs dusting the front of his shirt. The boy ate <i>constantly</i>. He hadn't lived here three days and already her pantry was half-empty. He waved his arm at a counter top that had once been so clear and scrubbed clean that Blythe could see her reflection in it. She had planned on using that space to start the sprouts for her outdoor window boxes, but this idea was out said window.
<br />
<br />
When his mouth was finally free to talk, his answer was less than helpful. "Making dinner."
<br />
<br />
"More like eating dinner." Blythe flicked the largest crumb from the front of his shirt. "Do you even know what you're doing?"
<br />
<br />
"Do I..." he stammered. "It's food! Yeah, I know what I'm doing."
<br />
<br />
"Then can you tell me what happened to the stove?"
<br />
<br />
Adair was cooking so he must be the one responsible for this. The top burner had been replaced with a more complicated one, four shiny new knobs graced the front, and she could swear the fire inside was the wrong color. She took back her first thought. Adair might have been the catalyst, but he wasn't the one who'd done this.
<br />
<br />
"Oh. That. It took forever to heat up and then it wouldn't get evenly hot so I asked Sol to fix it. You don't mind, do you?"
<br />
<br />
Of course it was Sol, someone who really should know better than to "fix" something of hers without her permission. While she rarely used the stove for anything other than boiling water, this wasn't really the point. "Ask next time, okay?"
<br />
<br />
Adair smiled a crumb-lipped smile. "I promise. It'll be done in a few minutes."
<br />
<br />
As long as he cleaned up after himself, she was willing to let this slide. The smell of sweet spices made her stomach growl and she'd forgive him for just about anything if dinner happened in the next few minutes. Adair had dragged over every flat surface he could find to work on: the lone, much-patched chair, a large upturned flowerpot, and someone-- probably Sol-- had rigged up a second counter from an old door and a pile of fruit crates. With the chair being used as a table, she settled to the floor and opened the book about seed germination she'd borrowed from the troupe's lead healer. She ignored Adair's bustling about until a bowl was placed in front of her.
<br />
<br />
He shifted nervously from foot to foot-- obvious from her position on the floor-- and said, "I hope you like it. Sol told me what you like and I hope he wasn't kidding when he said oatmeal. I tried to do new stuff to it-"
<br />
<br />
She smacked him lightly on the knee with her spoon. "I'm sure it's fine. It smells great. Stop worrying."
<br />
<br />
It was more than fine, it was incredible. Who knew you could make oatmeal interesting? To be honest, it was only her favorite food because it didn't take much effort to make and it would keep warm without burning if she got called away to heal someone.
<br />
<br />
Adair's legs came back into view. "I'm going to take some to Sol to thank him for fixing the stove."
<br />
<br />
Blythe waved him off. It was <i>really</i> good, with new flavors arriving on her tongue to compliment the first wave of spice. If her guess was right, he'd added honey and apple and a few other things she couldn't pinpoint. She would swear he had culinary weaving if not for the fact that he was a cartographer. When she filled a second bowl and reached for her spoon again, color where there shouldn't be color caught her eye. She dropped the spoon so she could stare at her hand.
<br />
<br />
The black soul-mark on her fingertip had turned the shifting rainbow of the rest of her hand. It was such a tiny mark that it could have changed at any point recently without her noticing. She hadn't left the troupe in a few days and it couldn't belong to any of the other carnies because she'd touched or bumped into all of them by now. The newest troupe members were Etri and Sol and they'd joined months ago. If it wasn't another carny, could it belong to some random person she'd touched when she'd last been into the city? That would make it impossible to figure out whose it was. At one time she hadn't thought much of these soul-marks and considered the whole thing about important people a dumb idea... then her marks had pointed her to three people she couldn't imagine living without. Firedrake, who had left the troupe but only after swearing an oath of blood sibling with her. Sol, who was a little frustrating and bothersome, but who she considered a little brother to watch over even if he was four years older. And Etri, who she wouldn't hesitate in calling her best friend. The marks were correct in judging who was important and now her last one had turned without her having any clue who it belonged to.
<br />
<br />
Her head whipped around when the door closed. It couldn't be <i>him</i>. He was only here because he needed their help finding his stolen map, not because he belonged with the carnival troupe. There was no one else it could be, though, when no one else new had crossed her path in days. Then there was the fact that Sol had an Adair mark and she, Etri, and Sol overlapped with each other's marks as it was... but if she asked and she was wrong, she would sound like an idiot. Besides, how could Adair not have noticed a newly-changed mark?
<br />
<br />
Adair nudged the cat off the counter and began to clean up, giving Blythe the chance to scope him out while she finished eating. If he had her mark, it wasn't on his hands or lower arms. He still had the large black patch that covered his entire left forearm and meant there was at least one more soulmate he was destined to touch. It wasn't on his face because she would have noticed that and she wouldn't have touched him there anyway. It probably wasn't on his legs for the same reason; although rare, leg marks were possible-- Sol had one on his shin.
<br />
<br />
Having ruled out the obvious locations for a mark, that left the less obvious and meant getting creative. She took her bowl over to the sink and, hoping Adair took the bait, pointed at his collar. "Hey, a spider just crawled down your shirt."
<br />
<br />
Adair overreacted better than she hoped. She'd thought he might spot a newly-changed mark himself when he looked into his shirt. Instead sponges and soapy water went flying, followed immediately by his shirt when he tossed it across the wagon. "Get it off get it off get it off!"
<br />
<br />
This might have been perfect for her spotting the mark if he wasn't flailing around like the floor was covered in hot coals. "Hold still. I need to find it."
<br />
<br />
He didn't have to know that she sought something else and once he stopped waving his arms around, she did in fact find it. A few, actually. Above either hip were black marks the size and shape of hand prints. On his back was the rainbow mark Sol had proudly said was his. Across from this, at the exact center of Adair's chest, was a tiny colorful smudge no bigger than a coin-- or a fingertip. She prodded this with her finger and the size matched up perfectly. "Aha!"
<br />
<br />
"Aaaaaaah! Is that the spider? Get it off me!"
<br />
<br />
When he started to flap his arms some more, Blythe rolled her eyes. In hindsight she could have verified her theory in a less stupid way. "No. Look."
<br />
<br />
Adair lowered his head slowly and glanced at it through the corner of his eye, as though trying to pretend that his torso didn't belong to him. He perked up when he saw it wasn't a bug. "Oh! Did you just do that? Is it like a secret healer thing to know when you've got your soul-mark on someone?"
<br />
<br />
That proved it was hers. She'd half-worried that she had it all wrong and this mark had changed on Adair ages ago. She scooped the shirt off the floor and held it out to him. He took a step back and threw his arms behind his back so fast his hand smacked against the counter. Blythe sighed. She certainly could have done this a much better way. "There never was a spider."
<br />
<br />
"Then what was that all about if there wasn't?"
<br />
<br />
Adair sounded skeptical and she couldn't blame him. This was kind of a mean trick to pull, but it wasn't like he'd ever told her that he was arachnophobic. "I'm sorry. It's just that I wanted to see your chest."
<br />
<br />
That got Adair's frown to turn into a wide grin, which wasn't an improvement. Three days was plenty long enough to know that a bad joke would spill out of his mouth in five... four... three... "Are you coming on to me? The oatmeal was that good, huh?"
<br />
<br />
Blythe tossed the shirt at him. "The only thing coming onto you is your shirt. Get dressed, you dork."
<br />
<br />
Adair laughed and pulled it over his head. "I guess this means you're stuck with me."
<br />
<br />
It could be worse. At least this soulmate could cook. Creators knew her other three soulmates were useless at it. He'd be worth keeping around for that alone.
<br />
<br />
His laugh turned into a grunt. "Hey, wait. Help, I'm stuck!"
<br />
<br />
But at what cost for having edible food? A daily test of patience against terrible jokes and an inability to dress himself properly? She sighed again, deeper this time, and untangled him from his sleeve. "You're absolutely hopeless."
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-65106710604132309232018-04-18T22:08:00.000-04:002018-04-18T22:08:24.349-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" character aesthetic: Willow the Cat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin8qy1PgIrHy6WaPQ6ifz4pdQ9GuroBd4uGSt7TaRs7O6G7GEvPSdmChmZ4jFv6QT6zHcmOEG6dKW9Ie0QDgEu92yXov0uTHlUcMMtBmmGV4FvF2sddb9Rjxjo_JHZjuxDkU6cpEClj_17/s1600/IMG_20180418_202724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin8qy1PgIrHy6WaPQ6ifz4pdQ9GuroBd4uGSt7TaRs7O6G7GEvPSdmChmZ4jFv6QT6zHcmOEG6dKW9Ie0QDgEu92yXov0uTHlUcMMtBmmGV4FvF2sddb9Rjxjo_JHZjuxDkU6cpEClj_17/s640/IMG_20180418_202724.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><br />The pantry door popped open and a perplexed cat was deposited on the other side. It opened again just long enough for a can to roll across the floor.
<br /><br />"She's not going to eat chickpeas," Adair pointed out as Willow began washing herself with a hauteur that suggested she was above dealing with stupid humans.
</i></b></blockquote>
<br />
Willow sauntered into Blythe's home one day and insisted that was where she now lived. While technically Adair's cat, she claims cat-ownership over the entire group to various degrees of agreement. She can frequently be found riding around on Adair's shoulders and nibbling his paint brushes, keeping mice out of Blythe's healing herbs and occasionally trying to eat her plants, snuggled up with Etri while he reads, and sleeping on a pile of Firedrake's costumes. However, the bulk of Willow's attention is saved for Sol. She's either his arch nemesis or best friend, but no one is sure which. Sol claims that he can talk to her and the two of them frequently get into “arguments” that no one else understands. (More than likely, Sol ate her treats and she stole his sunbeam.) She's highly curious and loves to climb into cabinets and pilfer anything shiny or ribbony. Her favorite game is swatting tiny light elementals. Consequently, this is the light elementals' least favorite game.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-58116180712313220292018-04-14T13:24:00.000-04:002018-04-18T22:09:54.586-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" character aesthetic: Talan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzTXlOelsuWe5sd8oXmv5LTbLXUIXtyQpRYhMvcqRGYTgkJHUOAWhBJvUKOITDz9XsBTa97N5CTqcrV6eqbqmTxEgQAezdR4_Tyrvrb9cmfI7JErACoh3LbEra8ZKv8SjnI9N_p_YwLtJ/s1600/talan+aesthetic.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTzTXlOelsuWe5sd8oXmv5LTbLXUIXtyQpRYhMvcqRGYTgkJHUOAWhBJvUKOITDz9XsBTa97N5CTqcrV6eqbqmTxEgQAezdR4_Tyrvrb9cmfI7JErACoh3LbEra8ZKv8SjnI9N_p_YwLtJ/s640/talan+aesthetic.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><br />Talan tilted his head back to look up at Firedrake with contriteness in eyes the color of a stormy afternoon sky. Blue-grey wasn’t a common color. Even Firedrake’s own hazel was unusual, but Talan’s nonconformity was what had drawn Firedrake to him in the first place. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to meet you. I found this and I wanted to see if it was worth anything.”
</i></b></blockquote>
<br />
Talan is equal parts cheerful and peculiar, with almost a lethal case of curiosity. He’s something of a magpie who collects various bits of everything in a personal quest to discover its purpose. He has a tenuous grasp on the concept of possessions and tends to think of anything that isn’t currently being worn or carried or nailed down as fair game. How can it be thievery when the person clearly doesn’t want it any more? He’s Firedrake’s boyfriend, at least for a little while, and Dray’s malfunctioning moral compass hasn’t exactly been the best influence in Talan’s life. Relatively new to Concordia in particular and civilization in general, Talan struggles with things like laws, idioms, and telling other people apart. He’s determined to learn these things, though, and wants more than anything to fit in. Talan is a secondary antagonist in book 1 (<u>Colorweaver</u>) of the <i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> series and will also appear as a protagonist in at least one other story in the series.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-48187152638848679612018-04-13T12:02:00.001-04:002018-04-13T12:02:37.155-04:00Moving on to the next stage of editing book 1!<center>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_1m_tSE7cqIbC3I2lMx_2lptDOavmD_gMhMiDPRVxYWW9esAKxwsggE1izmsgSRAAE6ZtTIwB474OAhv_MJAzYGOa1Lryaabw26JxwwoDxbl85BwAW2YpkVoW61yqE_DY49laZ8w57lJ/s1600/binder+1.png"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="550" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_1m_tSE7cqIbC3I2lMx_2lptDOavmD_gMhMiDPRVxYWW9esAKxwsggE1izmsgSRAAE6ZtTIwB474OAhv_MJAzYGOa1Lryaabw26JxwwoDxbl85BwAW2YpkVoW61yqE_DY49laZ8w57lJ/s320/binder+1.png" width="320" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wzp1Pe9kf5S71z8PbfGCLtJMvOVGmL1jDAAla9_6prZ_7Z1eGV9YEkbU2Bb5d4dEJRNA45ghmaxKiZ_x8z77cRlQc4AK-Foca5o2YfDMffcsu8J12GjvgAOxD79I7Ipy1r6KPRq-IGt6/s1600/binder+2.png"><img border="0" data-original-height="413" data-original-width="550" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9wzp1Pe9kf5S71z8PbfGCLtJMvOVGmL1jDAAla9_6prZ_7Z1eGV9YEkbU2Bb5d4dEJRNA45ghmaxKiZ_x8z77cRlQc4AK-Foca5o2YfDMffcsu8J12GjvgAOxD79I7Ipy1r6KPRq-IGt6/s320/binder+2.png" width="320" /></a></center>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbDXRzcCXS-C7Iwiv_D2ZGz8s1imEyTYojCrmab5qCrOrja5BSZuCcCiHkXMMcVW0pksXy7jMpO42WJvhtlyitdFWZj9s9v6ZnhYzr5sxxTOQGMjKHrtY_FVDuC0E3J0MqP7xLuoj8Hgy/s1600/binder+6.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbDXRzcCXS-C7Iwiv_D2ZGz8s1imEyTYojCrmab5qCrOrja5BSZuCcCiHkXMMcVW0pksXy7jMpO42WJvhtlyitdFWZj9s9v6ZnhYzr5sxxTOQGMjKHrtY_FVDuC0E3J0MqP7xLuoj8Hgy/s640/binder+6.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8G98IcPKRb_gjYmZDpuDAWYDRjrRx1-sjOkQY0EiqY3x4ATqGjWsMRBi6j4tDjsJGoSYZ-IBs5yEkeBvCXEoW4MZmj7cG1p6-F4vns7VynqPmkIPyvs9H0o57ls1OzfO0HRhFhoBj1b-_/s1600/binder+5.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8G98IcPKRb_gjYmZDpuDAWYDRjrRx1-sjOkQY0EiqY3x4ATqGjWsMRBi6j4tDjsJGoSYZ-IBs5yEkeBvCXEoW4MZmj7cG1p6-F4vns7VynqPmkIPyvs9H0o57ls1OzfO0HRhFhoBj1b-_/s640/binder+5.png" width="550" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #43324e; font-family: Roboto, sans-serif; font-size: 12.5px; line-height: 18.75px; padding: 6px;">
<br /></div>
I found this binder in a storage bin when I was cleaning out old stuff from the basement a few months ago. I was going to toss it, but it was basically brand new because I don’t think I used it in college for longer than my first month. The fact that I still had a binder I got for college-- 17 years ago-- isn’t too surprising because I don’t like to toss anything that could potentially be useful. Yesterday I decided to print out my previous draft of book 1 and edit it that way, so this was the perfect place to keep it! Unfortunately I’d doodled on the cover, but that was an easy fix after buying pretty holographic tape- which I didn’t realize matched the notebook I’m using for notes for this draft until I got home from the store. (I have so so many notebooks it's hard to keep track.) Then I added lots of fun stickers and pretty tape because heck yeah.
<br />
<br />
I’d been putting off editing book 1 (my supposed main NaNo project) this month because I wasn’t really sure <i>how</i> since I’ve never before got a novel to the point where a draft wasn’t a complete rewrite/story change. I finally worked it out. I’m going to go at this the way I do outlining and early drafts, with everything color coded. The thought of editing this in red pen freaks me out because red pen says “I made a horrible mistake” and my dyslexia says “good luck trying to decipher anything if it’s all the same color” so instead I’m going to use blue for notes about Adair, green for Blythe, red for Dray, and pink for Rosalie since they’re my POV characters. The other colors will be for notes in general or about other characters, and I’m either going to use black pen or the dark blue for writing in line changes verses just notes.
<br />
<br />
Equipped with a plan and colorful office supplies, I now feel like I can take this mess of a book on and maybe actually succeed at the <i>I Have No Idea What I’m Doing</i> draft. Hooray!<br />
<br />
~MeriMeri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-63491022534510820032018-04-13T11:50:00.001-04:002018-04-16T13:36:20.048-04:00"Unexpected Inspiration" character aesthetic: Camille<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsGgwO0Gsxa5PlpX8w0qOz_xHcZfCMUkULo0BjryhnUVoz-K2kVJWyYZJnnGJc0wmuMtYOLu4FnfVrJW5iepMrF1OTFXrp9rX_2ykkrJgrvEhDq5uWB1nmmHNcM8XdeOJJTAvDpUtHYzm/s1600/IMG_20180330_225935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1564" data-original-width="1564" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglsGgwO0Gsxa5PlpX8w0qOz_xHcZfCMUkULo0BjryhnUVoz-K2kVJWyYZJnnGJc0wmuMtYOLu4FnfVrJW5iepMrF1OTFXrp9rX_2ykkrJgrvEhDq5uWB1nmmHNcM8XdeOJJTAvDpUtHYzm/s640/IMG_20180330_225935.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<b><i><br />Their heavy, form-covering robes were absolutely wrong for this climate even in winter, but the last time Rosalie brought this up, Camille refused to speak to her for days. In hindsight, that was the most relaxing week Rosalie had ever experienced. Perhaps if she showed her face, Camille would be so scandalized that she’d leave Rosalie alone for a month.
</i></b></blockquote>
<br />
Camille is a priestess whose magic allows her to summon and control elementals. She was sent away from her home temple, the Sanctuary of Light in Montglace, with an order not to return until a specific task was completed. Almost a decade later she has not lost the determination to see this through, just as she retained the frustration with the partner she was assigned. Camille never forgave Rosalie for being the one selected to work with her; as a shadow priestess, Rosalie technically outranks Camille, but Rosalie’s weak magic makes this entirely insulting to someone who values power and status over all else. Camille is highly judgmental, arrogant, and career-focused to the point where one goal is all that drives her life. She sees the task she was assigned as one simple yet long-delayed step towards proving herself and gaining recognition, and blames Rosalie for the time they’ve wasted in leaving it unfulfilled. She’s determined to become the high priestess of her Sanctuary and will do whatever it takes to obtain this goal– including belittling, threatening, and using the woman who is her only ally in a place far from their home. Camille is the main antagonist in the <i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> series.<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-15930575806021068132018-04-11T16:57:00.001-04:002018-04-25T13:59:30.969-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 6<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Adair took the non-marked wrist and watched as the colors of Sol's hand blended into each other in an artistically pleasing way, crimson fading though amber into a brilliant sunshine yellow, then winding through chartreuse to forest green into deep indigo, and from indigo into violet and back into crimson.</i></h3>
<br />
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Adair's would take place at the start of book 1 [Colorweaver], but is changed from canon slightly.)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 6 <br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-5.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-7.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Adair ran his hand over the purple wall that blocked his view. It was weathered wood that could use a fresh coat of paint, but more importantly he was pretty sure he'd just walked into it. He took a few steps back while he rubbed feeling back into his nose. The wall was attached to a wagon-home that hovered a few feet off the ground, which wasn't too unusual considering that plenty of people lived in these kinds of traveling houses. He and his master had lived in one temporarily when they traveled during Adair's apprenticeship. What was odd was that one shouldn't be in his bedroom.
<br />
<br />
The cold sting of a gust of winter wind prodded his mind into realizing the obvious. He was outdoors. That made way more sense than a house appearing in his tiny rented room. He'd put too much time into his art this week and hadn't slept nearly enough-- he must have spaced out and wandered outside while half asleep. He reached to pull his cloak tighter against the chill only to discover that the only thing he wore was a pair of old cotton pajamas. Please, don't let this mean... he glanced down. Pajamas and the slippers with the ducky heads that quacked with every step. Well, his feet would be warm even if he was in the middle of a ... where was he, anyway?
<br />
<br />
His groggy mind caught up that maybe he should turn around, if just to check that no one was laughing at the idiot boy dressed in pajamas who, judging from how his face felt, had bumped into the wall more than once. With his fingers crossed for luck, he turned. No one was around, just parked wagons as far as he could see. He was pretty sure he wasn't dreaming-- shivers and a sore nose could attest to that-- but this wasn't anywhere he'd visited before. He would remember wagon-houses that were this garish and crowded together.
<br />
<br />
Sleepwalking. He must have sleepwalked away from his nice warm bed and into a transient town. He wasn't looking forward to asking for directions back to the inn, that was for sure. The slippers had been a funny idea when he bought them, but he hadn't expected anyone to see him wearing them. That was when it hit him what "transient town" meant: a carnival camp. Carnival performers were notoriously strict about keeping outsiders away from their caravan and he'd just wandered right into the middle of one. This night couldn't get any worse.
<br />
<br />
A hand grabbed him by the back of his shirt and Adair couldn't shake out of the grip. "I'm sorry! If you tell me how to get out of here, I'll leave. I didn't mean to be here, I swear!"
<br />
<br />
The grip loosened and Adair spun around, expecting to see some sort of guard ready to toss him out on his butt. The man was large and muscular and could certainly work security if not for the fact that he, too, was wearing pajamas. Probably wasn't on duty, then. Adair risked a glance down at pale toes peeking out of the hem of the man's pants. No slippers, though. He shivered at the thought of bare feet in the middle of winter.
<br />
<br />
The man was paler than any Adair had seen before, unless that was just the bright yellow and orange stripes of his nightclothes giving him the impression of being bleached out. He grinned a wide smile and caught Adair's wrist in a grip which Adair first thought was intended to drag him away but turned out to be some kind of greeting. "Hi! I'm Sol and I'm important!"
<br />
<br />
"I'm Adair?" He didn't mean it to sound like a question, but none of this made any sense. He almost wished he was still asleep because odd dreams were better than odd reality.
<br />
<br />
At least that strange introduction meant Adair knew who was being shouted at when a woman's voice bellowed, "Sol! I know you're out here!"
<br />
<br />
Sol's grip tightened on Adair's wrist, not painfully, but enough for Adair to guess that he probably didn't plan to let go. "We have to hide!"
<br />
<br />
Meaning Sol didn't belong here either, which put Adair back on slightly more solid ground. Muddy ground, maybe. Hiding made sense, all things considered, even if nothing else did. He allowed himself to be dragged past a few more wagons and then pulled under one that had marginally more of a gap between the floor and ground than the others did. Adair ducked under easily, but Sol had to squeeze in, kicking Adair in the shoulder and nudging his knees into the dirt in the process. They settled in and Adair took his paintbrush from behind his ear-- luckily sleepwalking-him had the automatic instinct to grab this on the way out-- and focused his weaving into it so he could check for spiders. This time of year they should all be dead, but it would be just his luck to sit in the middle of a cobweb. The light from his brush glinted off a few old webs stretched across the corners and beams, but where he sat and Sol hunched was safe enough, minus the problem a lot bigger than bugs.
<br />
<br />
Adair tucked his brush back behind his ear so he could keep his hands free in case he needed to scuttle out again. "Why was someone looking for you?"
<br />
<br />
Sol fidgeted, although Adair wasn't sure if it was because of the question or because he was folded nearly in half. "The healers think I'm sick but I'm really not sick. I can't be sick when I feel a lot better now, right? So since I'm not sick I snuck out as soon as they left and I thought they didn't see but my brother must have ratted me out and now Blade wants to drag me home and I don't want to go. It's boring in there and the carnival's starting tomorrow and I wanna be there to help set up. I'm good at setting up and they let me do the lighting. It's fun!"
<br />
<br />
Adair's muddy, not so-solid ground became more like quicksand. From what he could gather from Sol's rapidly spoken-in-one-breath explanation, Sol lived here and that meant he was a carny. This was potentially a good sign for Adair not being thrown out since he was befriending a carny... if hiding under a wagon counted as the start of a friendship. Either way, someone with the name "Blade" didn't sound like someone Adair wanted to be caught by even if Sol would vouch for him. He risked the question, "Who's Blade?"
<br />
<br />
Sol pushed past to peek out from under the wagon before crawling backwards to where he sat before, the front of his pajamas now dusted with dirt. At least the actual ground was dry, if chilly. Adair steadied himself until he was squatting on the balls of his feet. It was nice of sleepwalking-him to remember his arcane focus, but it would have been nice if he remembered a coat or the cloak or maybe a pair of real shoes, too.
<br />
<br />
Sol didn't seem to mind the cold. He gave up on hunching and laid down on his back and gestured vaguely in the direction he'd looked a few seconds before. In Adair's weaving-light his hand seemed oddly stained, like he'd smeared his hand across Adair's paint palette. "She's one of the healers and she's my important like my brother and she's his important, too."
<br />
<br />
Healers and being asked to stay inside explained Sol's pajamas, but for everything else, Sol may as well be speaking another language. Did all carnies talk like this? Adair needed better clarification but wasn't sure where to even begin. "She's your... important? Is that why you're hiding from her?"
<br />
<br />
"Nah, I'm hiding because she's my healer. I said that, right? That she's a healer? Yeah, I think I said she was a healer. The important thing just means she's really fussy about me, like my brother is. Fuss, fuss, fuss. They're always afraid I'm gonna get hurt or something. Do you have a brother? Blade says she lived with her sib for a while but I never met them so I don't know who that is. I don't know how a sib can just leave because I wouldn't want to leave Etch, especially because he's my important and-"
<br />
<br />
Adair had to ask before Sol's tangent led him who knows where. "What's an important?"
<br />
<br />
That stopped Sol mid-ramble and he pushed himself up on his elbows so he could look at Adair. "You know, your <i>important</i>. A person who's important to you?"
<br />
<br />
"Oh. Like your brother. That makes sense. Siblings are important." Adair had a younger sister, but he wouldn't have called her his important. He hadn't seen her in months, which made him feel a little guilty if Sol considered his own sibling such a big part of his life.
<br />
<br />
Sol stared at him with his pale eyebrows scrunched up, then he broke into a laugh so loud it sent Adair scrambling to shush him so they weren't found. Unless they were supposed to be found because the person looking for Sol was someone he cared about? Adair still had no idea what was going on.
<br />
<br />
Once Sol's laughter was under control, he flopped back down in the dirt. "Like a brother, yeah, but not like always a brother. No, like... that thing, you know? That thing people all have? Like this."
<br />
<br />
Sol held up his hands and now that Adair sat nearer, he could make out that his hand wasn't coated in paint at all, but a pulsating rainbow of color. The opposite wrist was the same way. Now it made sense: an "important" was a soulmate. Adair had four of those, but hadn't yet met any of them since all of his marks were the same black smudge they started. He gestured at Sol's hand. "Can I look?"
<br />
<br />
Sol shrugged and scooted over so he was closer. Adair took the non-marked wrist and watched as the colors of Sol's hand blended into each other in an artistically pleasing way, crimson fading though amber into a brilliant sunshine yellow, then winding through chartreuse to forest green into deep indigo, and from indigo into violet and back into crimson. Adair had seen changed soul-marks before, mostly from a distance, but none had been so perfectly hued as a rainbow. Most had two, maybe three colors that sometimes blended well together, sometimes didn't. He'd always thought that each color represented a soulmate, but that didn't make sense if Sol had an entire rainbow on his hand and wrist. "Does anyone else have one like this?"
<br />
<br />
"Yeah! Etch and Blade do." It made sense that the marks of Sol's soulmates matched his own, but his next words left Adair gaping. "And yours too, I bet, but I dunno because I can't see it."
<br />
<br />
"My... what?"
<br />
<br />
Sol stared back at him. "Your mark? When I touched you my hand went all pretty and rainbowy. You have a mark too, yeah?"
<br />
<br />
How had Adair missed that? He'd kept such a close eye out in case any of his marks ever changed or in case he made anyone else's change and of course he was oblivious when it finally happened. It could be any of his marks considering how Sol had been bumbling past him and grabbing him for the past fifteen minutes. He rolled up his sleeve, but his forearm remained stained black. Looking into his shirt showed only the same black smudge on his chest that he always had. He was pretty sure Sol hadn't grabbed him by the waist... Adair groaned. Go figure, the first one to change was the one he couldn't see.
<br />
<br />
Well, at least he had someone he could ask. He tugged up the back of his shirt. "Did it change?"
<br />
<br />
Sol poked him in the middle of his back, exactly where Adair knew the mark was. "Yeah! It's like mine, same colors and everything. I told ya I was important! We're soulmates."
<br />
<br />
Adair craned to see between his own shoulder blades and had to admit defeat when his neck began to cramp. He never cared much about mirrors but right now he'd give just about anything to have one. This was incredible! He'd worried for so long that he didn't have any soulmates. His ex-boyfriend used to always say Adair's marks were broken because he had too many of them. It was a huge relief to know for sure that this was wrong.
<br />
<br />
He pulled his shirt back down and grinned at Sol. Not only did he have a soulmate and he wasn't broken, the first soulmate he found was someone else who wore silly pajamas out in public. He could do much worse. His ex, for one, would have been <i>much</i> worse. A thought struck him. "Hey, you know what this means? We're Sol-mates! Get it?"
<br />
<br />
"Yeah. That's what I said?"
<br />
<br />
"No, I mean, like your name is Sol."
<br />
<br />
Sol smiled blankly at him, as though waiting for the joke. "Yeah. Pretty sure I told ya that."
<br />
<br />
"And we have marks. We're Sol-mates."
<br />
<br />
Adair got the feeling Sol was trying to humor him when he patted him on the arm. "Yeah. Isn't it great?"
<br />
<br />
"No, I mean yeah. I mean... oh, forget it." His pun was clearly wasted on this new friend. Maybe his next soulmate would have a better appreciation for terrible jokes.
<br />
<br />
"There you are!"
<br />
<br />
The loud, sudden voice caused both of them to jump and Adair was thankful his head was nowhere near the floor of the wagon floating above them. Sol made a face and mouthed "Blade" as he was hauled out by the shoulders.
<br />
<br />
Adair could stay under the wagon and crawl out the other side to get away. The woman with the scary name didn't have to know he was here. He knew he couldn't do this, though. Leaving behind someone who was meant to be his friend would be a horrible thing to do. He took a deep breath for courage, then pulled his weaving out from the paintbrush until the underside of the wagon was again dark and crawled out after Sol. The now-blinding lantern light made his head ache, but made it easy to see the woman about his own age who had her hands on her hips and Sol caught in the center of her tirade.
<br />
<br />
Her reprimands ground to a halt when she noticed Adair. She brought her hand to cover her face and shook her head. "Oh no. No, Sol. Not another one like you. You get away from me for a few minutes and what, find the nearest dork in pajamas? Who's this?"
<br />
<br />
At least Adair felt less self-conscious about the clothes thing when he had someone else being a dork alongside him. "I'm Adair."
<br />
<br />
Sol threw his arm around his shoulders, nearly knocking him off his feet. "And he's important!"
<br />
<br />
Blade let out a long, definitely exaggerated groan before uncovering her face. "Of course he is. Come on, let's find you both some normal clothes and you can tell me why you were hiding under a wagon with this goofball."
<br />
<br />
"Are you talking to me or him?" Adair asked.
<br />
<br />
"Take your pick."
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-16277073526020599582018-04-04T13:32:00.000-04:002018-04-11T16:58:33.127-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 5<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Sol took her hand and held it out for her to see. "No! I mean </i>all<i> rainbowy! That means I'm important, right?"</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Sol's would take place a few months before book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 5 <br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-4.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-6.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Sol scrambled up the stairs of Blythe's wagon and threw the door open. Then he scrambled again to catch it before it hit the wall. Blythe wouldn't be happy if he dented the wall. Again. It wasn't his fault that he was so strong and the door was so flimsy! He'd told her he'd make her a better door, one that could open in both directions and even close by itself, but she hadn't been interested. He carefully shut it behind him and eyed the doorknob to see if there was a way he could adjust it to bounce harmlessly off the wood paneling without her noticing that he changed anything. Rubber, maybe? No, that would be too soft to turn and if it was stronger, it would be too hard and damage the wall anyway. After he gave her this present, he would work on fixing her door as the next one.
<br />
<br />
Right, the present. That was why he was here! This was way more important than a dumb doorknob. "Blade! BladeBladeBladeBladeBlade!"
<br />
<br />
No answer. She couldn't <i>not</i> be home. She was always home when he needed her. Etri said it was because Sol was "her most frequent patient" and "she probably waited around for his inevitable daily disaster" and something about having a shelf of healing supplies with his name on it, but Sol had tuned him out by that point in favor of trying to get an itty bitty spring to have the force it needed to propel a toothpick. Etri worried too much about <i>everything</i>.
<br />
<br />
But today Sol would prove that he didn't need to worry. The toothpick launcher worked perfectly and he'd finished an entirely new invention and not once had it bit him or caught on fire or exploded or put a hole through the wall. No one could say he needed a healer today!
<br />
<br />
When the door opened behind him, Sol didn't take the present out of his pocket. He wanted to build up to the surprise. He was pretty sure she wouldn't guess this one. She was frustratingly good at guessing. It was almost like she could read his mind, but that would be silly. No one could <i>actually</i> read minds. The carnies who did that act always had a plant in the audience or planned this out with their picked person's friend before the show. Okay, so he'd believed it at first. That was until he caught Blythe smirking at him from backstage and he remembered that he told her practically everything. That was probably how she guessed at the presents he made her, actually. He probably just slipped and didn't remember slipping.
<br />
<br />
Blythe squeezed past him to get across the narrow room and dropped a pile of plant cuttings on the counter before lighting the weaving-lamps he'd made for her. She didn't know they were weaving, just really bright, but she used them all the time which must mean she liked them. He liked when she liked what he made. "You really only have to say my name once, you know. I could have heard you on the other side of camp. What did you need? You don't look hurt."
<br />
<br />
"I've been working on a thing." He knew what her grimace meant. She thought he meant the automatic waffle dispenser that had been the cause of the hole in the wall. "No, not the waffle-makey-shooty-thing. A new thing. A better thing! At first I couldn't get the spring to work without bending, so I thought maybe if I tried a different size that would work better, but then it didn't make it spring as far, so I decided to-"
<br />
<br />
"Sol."
<br />
<br />
"-Go back to the original size but use a different metal and after a few tries that worked, but then I wanted onyxes because they're all pretty and shiny like your eyes. Did you know Etri went by Onyx before? Our old troupe uses gem names and-"
<br />
<br />
"Thanks for the compliment. Now about the thing you wanted to tell me?"
<br />
<br />
"Right, I went looking for onyxes, but I couldn't find any so I had to use boring black beads instead and I hope they're okay because they're not really shiny enough. I thought about sticking glitter to them and-"
<br />
<br />
"Sol."
<br />
<br />
"The glue didn't want to set right so I dropped that idea and started painting your present instead. I think I got it the right color." He eyed Blythe's clothes. As usual she was wearing brown and that bleh shade of dark green she liked so much. He kept trying to get her to wear yellow because it was such a fun color, but she never went for it. "Yeah, I got it right. So once that was done I had to wait for it to dry and that took forever-"
<br />
<br />
"Sol."
<br />
<br />
"So I started drawing out plans for the smoke-sucker-outer I'm gonna build to keep the fires I make from bothering Etch. He coughs a lot when I'm working and it's distracting but I really really don't want him sick. You'd tell me if he was sick, right? Creators, maybe I should have built his present before yours. Or no, wait, I don't have all the parts for-"
<br />
<br />
Blythe reached up to snatch him by the ear, distracting him enough that his thoughts screeched to a halt. "Solei. Look at me. Where are you going with this? In eight words or less, please."
<br />
<br />
He stared at her and she stared back with eyes that were so dark brown they were pretty much black. Or onyx. He'd been going somewhere with that, hadn't he? "I don't remember?"
<br />
<br />
"You really need to work on focusing. You came here to tell me about..." She tugged at his ear again. He flinched, which made her stop pulling, but her fingers remained clutching his ear. "There's glue on your ear. Why is there glue on your ear?"
<br />
<br />
That Sol did remember! "I'm saving it for later so I can use it again."
<br />
<br />
Blythe tugged again, this time more gently, and her hand remained attached to the side of his head. "Of course. How silly of me to ask. I'm sure I have something to fix this."
<br />
<br />
She led him over to the sink where she poured something cold over his ear that came from a shelf labeled with his name. Huh, Etri was right. When her hand pulled free, Sol reached up to feel his ear. It felt a little warm, like he'd been channeling his weaving there even though he hadn't, but more importantly the glue was gone. "Awww. You took it away."
<br />
<br />
"I'll get you more glue. You really don't need to store it for later, you know. Or if you do, can't you put it in a jar?"
<br />
<br />
A jar! He hadn't thought of that. He bet there was a way he could coat the inside so the glue wouldn't stick to the sides... or even better, he could put that on his neck so the glue wouldn't stick to him either. That would be perfect. That would be...
<br />
<br />
He stared at Blythe's hands as she dried them on a towel. Colors swirled around almost all of both, with only one fingertip remaining the original black mark she was born with. Sol still had those unchanged soul-marks on his right hand, his shin, and his ear... or maybe not his ear if Blythe was all colorful when her hand had been half-black five minutes ago. "Blade! You're all rainbowy!"
<br />
<br />
"Of course I am, that's been there for years."
<br />
<br />
Sol took her hand and held it out for her to see. "No! I mean <i>all</i> rainbowy! That means I'm important, right?"
<br />
<br />
"Etch and I always tell you that you're important, sweetie. You don't have... to... ask... Oh. That <i>is</i> new." She stared at it for a bit, watching the colors change from green to blue to purple to red to yellow, then wiped the towel against his ear, drying off the last of whatever it was she'd poured on. "It seems we were right in telling you that. I am wondering why this didn't happen the thousands of times I've patched you up before, but it's probably that healing touches don't count. Whatever. Now what did you want to show me?"
<br />
<br />
Sol stopped trying to look at his own ear and started patting his pockets instead. "Hold on, it's in one of these..."
<br />
<br />
Emptying out a dozen pockets revealed string, gears, a screwdriver, the bent springs in case he could use them again, half a sandwich- that's where he'd put that!- his favorite pair of pliers, a melted ball of metal, the stub of a candle, his second favorite pair of pliers... but no present. He was so sure he'd grabbed it before running out the door!
<br />
<br />
As he munched on the sandwich, trying to remember where he could have left it, Etri's voice came from the doorway. "Solei? You were taking this to Blade, yes?"
<br />
<br />
Sol scarfed down the last few bites and ran to his brother. He grinned when he saw the metalwork doll in Etri's hand. "Yeah! Thanks for grabbing her."
<br />
<br />
Blythe walked over to them and crossed her arms over her chest. "Her? You're not giving me a pet, are you? Please tell me you didn't find another monkey."
<br />
<br />
"Way better than a monkey." Sol held the present out and she took it with some hesitation, probably in case it tried to bite her. That had only happened once. Okay, twice, but the second time hardly counted. "See? It's you!"
<br />
<br />
Sol was quite proud of this. He'd even figured out how to soften lengths of wire so he could braid it like her hair. And that wasn't even the best part. Once she figured <i>that</i> part out, she'd be over the moon! Or was that under the moon? She couldn't really go over the moon unless she learned how to fly. Sol had flown once, but she'd taken his wings away after he crashed. What were a few broken bones in the name of a really smarfy invention?
<br />
<br />
She squeezed him so tight he thought his head might pop off like the doll's had until he'd soldered it on more tightly. He really didn't want to have to solder his own neck. "This is a little weird, but also sweet. You even gave it a tiny knife."
<br />
<br />
That was the part Sol was most proud of and the thing that had taken forever to sort out with the spring mechanism. Building the knife out of a toothpick had been the easy part. Making the arm do what it was supposed to caused him several bruised fingers. He flipped the doll over. "Yup! And look, if you push this it-"
<br />
<br />
She tapped the button before he could explain that she had to aim the doll first. The doll's arm whipped down and sent the toothpick hurling across the wagon. Etri stepped out of the way just in time to not get hit- unless it was his weaving that made it pass through him, Sol was never quite sure just how fast Etri could actually move- and the toothpick embedded itself into the wall.
<br />
<br />
Blythe pulled at it with no success, then turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Okay, a little more weird than sweet, but please promise me you won't make anything that does this again."
<br />
<br />
Sol took the doll from her hand and pushed the arm back into position. "I think I can make it do something garden-y. That's a you thing, right? Would that be better?"
<br />
<br />
"Much. Plants won't impale your brother. Just no shears or trowels or shovels or... you know what, how about you just make it <i>hold</i> the plant?"
<br />
<br />
"I can do that. No, wait! I can reuse the spring and give it weed-pulling action. Or maybe I can put a bigger spring in it and it can <i>actually</i> pull weeds for you. No, wait, I got it! I'll be right back." He dashed out the door as Blythe shook her head. Oh yeah, he was full of good ideas.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-72870405414408987712018-03-31T13:10:00.003-04:002018-03-31T13:10:44.963-04:00March Wrap-up, April GoalsI’m doing last minute prepping for Camp NaNo and part of that is my monthly goals post, so here we go. :)<br />
<h3>
March summary:</h3>
<ul>
<li><b>Short stories: </b><br />Earlier in the month I finished <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/short-story-rooftop-reprised.html">“Rooftop Reprised”</a> and <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/short-story-this-for-that-request.html">“This For That (Re)Quest”</a> and I also wrote the first four parts of the platonic soulmate AU story <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">“Stuck With You.”</a></li>
<li><b><i>Colorweaver</i> - book 1:</b> <br />I decided last minute (because my Camp NaNo plans always change last minute lol) to switch from working on book 2 to book 1, so I’ve been scrambling to adjust the end of the book that was a complete mess in the previous draft. The good news is that last night I got this all sorted out and I’ve even figured out the part that had been stressing me out for three years! I’m super motivated to work on this, so fingers crossed I’ll keep that motivation long enough to finish this draft without getting distracted. I’m so easily distracted.</li>
<li><b>Moodboards: </b><br />I got a little carried away with these this week and I made I think 8 of them. Which takes me to…</li>
</ul>
<h3>
April goals:</h3>
<ul>
<li><b>Share the moodboards: </b><br />I don’t think I’ll have much time to do short stories this month, so I’m going to instead focus on writing shorter things to go along with the moodboards. My plan is excerpts, drabbles, character bios, info about the story and culture- I’m hoping I can come up with a little something for each one and share them twice a week. (Please oh please let this help keep me motivated!)</li>
<li><b>Soulmate AU: </b><br />I do still want to work on that this month because I don’t want this to turn into yet another story I abandon halfway through, so I’m going to try for a chapter a week, but it might end up every two. The next chapter involves Sol and glue, so that’s going to be a blast to write!</li>
<li><b>3rd draft of <i>Colorweaver</i>: </b><br />Here’s my main thing. It’s unlikely I’ll get the whole draft done in a month considering that each draft tends to take me closer to a year, but I’m hoping to get a good chunk of it done. :)</li>
</ul>
<br />
~MeriMeri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-57628784612280958972018-03-29T10:41:00.001-04:002018-04-04T13:33:11.534-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 4<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>After discovering that Firedrake was one of her soulmates, she'd feared that each of her friendships were doomed to start with arson and a shoving match.</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Blythe's would take place a few months before book 1 [Colorweaver].)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 4 <br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/04/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-5.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Blythe glared down at the mixing bowl in her hands. She'd mixed this healing paste a thousand times and today it refused to come out the right consistency. First it had looked okay but smelled funny, so she'd tossed it out in case it caused an adverse reaction on someone's skin or made their arm fall off or something. She should have kept that one, though, because the next had turned out lumpy no matter how much she mixed it. That, too, had gone into the trash. The third had been more of a soup than a paste, so she'd added flour as a neutral ingredient in the hope of thickening it. That had worked oh so well and now her favorite bowl was coated with something that more resembled hardened plaster than paste. It wasn't even noon and it was already shaping up to be a day she wanted over and done with.
<br />
<br />
A familiar head popped into the open kitchen window as she tugged in vain at the spoon. "Blade! You're gonna be late!"
<br />
<br />
As though Sol had any right to talk. She was pretty sure he'd never been on time for anything in his life. "I know. Go ahead. I'll be there as soon as I finish this <i>thing</i>-"
<br />
<br />
With one last hard tug, the paster gave up its fight, and both it and the spoon went flying towards the window in one congealed mass of failure. She winced as it took out a flowerpot before bouncing off Sol's shoulder. At least the bowl was still in one piece.
<br />
<br />
Sol didn't wait around for more kitchenware to be lobbed at his head. He vanished from the window, making room for sunlight to illuminate the dirt spilled over her once-clean floor. With a shake of her head, she set the bowl on the counter and reached for the broom. If only Etri had been the one at the window. He would have offered to clean up instead of scampering away and she could have gone back to working on this stubborn paste.
<br />
<br />
Her eyes returned to the empty window as it hit her what exactly Sol had reminded her about. Frit! As if this day couldn't get any worse, she'd forgotten that she wanted to get to the bonfire early so she could talk to Etri. She let the broom fall into the corner and dashed out the door in clothes still dusted by flour to head for the troupe's central meeting place. It was tradition for each carnival troupe to gather together for a bonding exercise on the first of every month. While this was something she begrudgingly went along with, it was Etri's first-first with this troupe. He didn't know anyone yet besides her and his brother, and he certainly wasn't going to be comfortable with...
<br />
<br />
She reached the bonfire out of breath but with time to spare. Their ringmaster still spoke, his usual spiel about camaraderie and support that Blythe always tuned out because she'd heard it once a month for the past three years. Blythe had thought to ask Sol if his and Etri's previous leader had been this dry, with the hope of subtly figuring out how Etri got around his touch aversion there, but she kept putting it off. Even if Etri had simply been comfortable with his long-time troupe or if he'd managed to avoid these get-togethers altogether, she still should have asked so she could help him here. She could kick herself for being a terrible friend.
<br />
<br />
Etri and Sol were hard to miss considering they towered over everyone else gathered in the circle. She stuck her tongue out at Sol as she walked past and instead of making a face at her like he usually did, he nodded at Etri with a worried frown. Now she felt even worse because her hunch was right. Etri didn't seem to notice her when she stepped up to his other side. His head was bowed with his attention fixed on his boots and she had the feeling that he was using his long hair to screen out the rest of the world. The hand with the solid black mark clenched tightly at the dark fabric of his coat. Sol held his other hand and murmured something to him that had the tone of reassurance. She didn't recognize the words, which meant he was speaking Montglacian and wasn't a good sign because the two only seemed to speak this when Etri was on the brink of a panic attack. She wouldn't have recommended using the language of a place Etri and Sol hated as a grounding technique, but it generally worked and she wasn't about to suggest they try something else.
<br />
<br />
She leaned close enough that he would hear her, without being so close as to touch him, and whispered, "Etch? You okay?"
<br />
<br />
Without raising his head, he dropped his death-grip on his coat and lowered his hand to his side. When his hand brushed hers, she took it lightly in case she read this signal wrong, only to have him squeeze it as tightly as he had his coat. Etri's relief struck her like a punch even though she always muted her touch telepathy when she wasn't in the process of healing someone and she scrambled to build a stronger mental wall without having to let go of him. By the time she got this back under control with his thoughts on the outside where they belonged, the girl on her left-- she didn't bother to look and see who it was-- had taken her other hand and the inevitable chanting began. She ignored the words about unity and togetherness and other things she found far too sappy and instead looked over at Etri to make sure he was handling this okay. When he noticed that he had her attention, a soft smile briefly turned up the corner of his lips and he squeezed her hand again. A smile was good. A smile meant he was comfortable and not freaking out about having to touch someone. Hand squeezing, which he was doing <i>again</i>, meant he was comfortable with her in particular.
<br />
<br />
Okay, all this hand squeezing was kind of strange. She leaned towards him again and whispered, "You sure you're okay?"
<br />
<br />
That smile again, followed by another hand squeeze. He couldn't just... talk? As she was rolling her eyes, he lifted their joined hands high enough to catch her attention. Oh. Well, that certainly explained the squeezing.
<br />
<br />
The mark on Blythe's right hand had blossomed into full color to match the half-color on Etri's left. Ever since she had grabbed Firedrake three years ago and the black marks on her hands half-changed into a rotating rainbow, she had wondered when the rest of the change was going to happen. Her left hand was still half-black, implying someone she had yet to touch. When Etri released her hand so she could look at it, she had to amend that count. The fingertip of her index finger remained black, which she guessed meant there were <i>two</i> more people, but who knew? Soul-marks were such a strange, unpredictable thing, and normally she hated uncertainty, but she had to admit that knowing her best friend was meant to be important to her didn't have any downside. After discovering that Firedrake was one of her soulmates, she'd feared that each of her friendships were doomed to start with arson and a shoving match.
<br />
<br />
It could never be that way with Etri. She wanted to protect him and if whoever belonged to the black marks that half-remained on both of his hands so much as looked at him rudely, she'd knock them out without hesitation. With healing-induced sleep or her fists, it didn't matter. Sol grinned at her when she caught him looking at her hand and she modified her thoughts again. If whoever was the three marks on Sol tried anything with him, they'd also have to deal with her. She wouldn't let anyone hurt her friends, although that probably meant she should be more careful where she hurled healing paste in the future.
<br />
<br />
As she vowed this to herself, Etri leaned down to whisper to her, "You do not mind being stuck with me, yes?"
<br />
<br />
She bumped her shoulder against his arm and hoped he wouldn't mind this type of contact any more than the hand holding. "No more than your dopey brother does."
<br />
<br />
Etri glanced over at Sol who was still grinning like an idiot before squeezing her hand again. "Then you must like me greatly."
<br />
<br />
"Wouldn't be your friend if I didn't. Besides, you've never set my pillow on fire."
<br />
<br />
Within five minutes Sol would be telling her all about the time he managed to set a rock on fire, but for now Blythe felt she had made her point.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-56499226838355403262018-03-21T16:08:00.002-04:002018-03-29T10:44:27.872-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 3<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Frit. Firedrake's shoulder matched Blythe's hands exactly. The rainbows even shifted colors at the same speed, whatever <b>that</b> meant.</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>"A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do."</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Firedrake's would take place about three years before the trilogy.)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You" <br />Chapter 3 <br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-2.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-4.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
Firedrake's new roommate shook the wagon as she strode across the floor with aggravatingly heavy footsteps. There couldn't possibly be anything left for her to poke and prod that she hadn't already noticed on her first twelve passes. Their new home was small and outdated, with only one main room and a tiny washroom behind a door that sat crooked in its frame. With a sink that only ran cold water, a stove with a single burner, a lone wooden chair that looked like it would collapse if someone so much as leaned on it, two loft beds that sagged in the middle and also at both ends, and a few dusty windows, there wasn't much to explore. She'd already claimed the one blank wall for her collection of knives despite Firedrake owning just as many dance props that needed to be stored and the wall having more than enough space for both. It wasn't as though either of them possessed more than what they'd carried. The cabinets beneath their beds remained mostly empty, although the dust bunnies had waged a fierce battle before Firedrake vanquished them with an old rag they'd found under the sink.
<br />
<br />
Firedrake wasn't new to the concept of roommates. They'd had one or two they begrudgingly put up with, but Blythe took the proverbial cake. She was disruptive, bossy, and had opinions about <i>everything</i>. So far they'd argued over which side of the wagon got the most light (it was a <i>wagon</i>, any side got the most light depending on how it was parked), about the adjustments Firedrake wanted to make to the cabinets so that they could climb up to their bunk without needing to stand on that rickety chair (it was all well and good for her that she could dust the support beams without effort), and over how she wanted the windows open for fresh air (no matter how dingy it was inside, it was winter for Petra's sake). Firedrake couldn't open their mouth without her jumping down their throat. If there was once thing Firedrake hated, it was being silenced.
<br />
<br />
This was why Firedrake was determined to drive her away.
<br />
<br />
Blythe stopped pacing and made the most obnoxious sniffing noise Firedrake ever heard. "What's that smell?"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake didn't look up from filing their nails and counted on their long hair to cover their smirk. "I'm sure I have no idea."
<br />
<br />
They snuck a peek at their watch. Forty-nine minutes. If she didn't grab her stuff and run back to wherever she came from within the hour, Firedrake would go out and buy a hat for the exact purpose of eating it.
<br />
<br />
"Are you sure? I'm positive it smells like smoke. Are you cooking something?"
<br />
<br />
She was right, at least in a way. Firedrake <i>was</i> cooking something. They checked to make sure the box of matches was safely hidden in their pocket before asking, "How could I be? You've been blocking the path to the stove since we moved in."
<br />
<br />
Blythe let out a "hmph" sound and went back to sniffing. Firedrake watched the second hand run a few laps. If she didn't catch on soon, they were going to have to say something. They wanted to drive her away, not burn down their home. Ramshackle though it was, it was still better than a few of the dumps Firedrake had lived in. It had potential if they could remove this one particular nuisance.
<br />
<br />
Just as Firedrake was about to start a literal game of hot-and-cold, she grabbed the smoldering pillow from her bunk and hurled it to the floor. Firedrake couldn't help cackling as she stomped up and down on it, covering the floor in singed feathers. That would teach her to disregard what they had to say. Maybe now she'd-
<br />
<br />
Blythe had Firedrake pinned against the wall by the shoulders before they knew what was happening. How could someone slipping on feathers lunge that quickly? Firedrake prided themself on their dexterity and grace, but she'd come out of <i>nowhere</i>.
<br />
<br />
She lifted Firedrake higher as they struggled to get their feet back on the ground. Her voice was a sharp hiss to match the sharp scowl of her eyes when she said, "You idiot. Are you trying to get us kicked out of the troupe?"
<br />
<br />
The knobs of the cabinet dug sharply into Firedrake's back as they twisted in her grip. They hadn't planned for this to happen. Blythe was supposed to feel unwelcome and leave. She was the healer's apprentice-- she wasn't supposed to pick fights!
<br />
<br />
Blythe's eyes flickered from Firedrake's face over to their shoulder. Perhaps this meant she realized how tight her grip was and she would finally drop them. When she voiced a quiet "Oh <i>frit</i>," Firedrake turned their head.
<br />
<br />
Frit was right. The black soul-mark on Blythe's hand had partially blossomed into a pulsating rainbow. She gave Firedrake another shove. "No. No, no, no! Not <i>you</i>!"
<br />
<br />
Firedrake landed in an undignified heap at her feet when she yanked her hands away. Without bothering to stand, Firedrake tugged their shirt down over their shoulder and prayed that half of Blythe's hands still being black meant this was a fluke.
<br />
<br />
Frit. Firedrake's shoulder matched Blythe's hands exactly. The rainbows even shifted colors at the same speed, whatever <i>that</i> meant. To add to the damning evidence, Firedrake's other shoulder now balanced the first. There went half of Firedrake's wardrobe. After this there was no way they'd wear sleeveless tops again. This wasn't fair. Not only was Blythe a horrible roommate, she'd gone and made most of their costumes useless.
<br />
<br />
That horrible, colorful hand appeared in their vision. Firedrake batted it away. What, was she trying to make this worse by shoving it in their face?
<br />
<br />
"I'm trying to help you up, you dope."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake grumbled but allowed her to pull them up. With their feet tangled in their skirt, it was better than stumbling to regain their footing. Firedrake brushed their hair out of their face and glared at her. "What happens now? You throw me into more walls until the rest of my marks change color?"
<br />
<br />
Blythe crossed her arms over her chest, but her scowl had shifted into a more neutral expression. "Truce."
<br />
<br />
That wasn't the word Firedrake expected. A few curses, maybe a few insults... but a truce? "Only if I set the terms."
<br />
<br />
Blythe shrugged. "Only if I agree to them."
<br />
<br />
Firedrake was beginning to suspect that dealing with Blythe would be a little like walking on eggshells, but mostly like having themself as a roommate. No wonder she grated on every one of Firedrake's nerves. They thought for a moment or two about what kind of agreement they would find appealing. If they were going to be stuck with Blythe, they had no intention of making their own life more miserable. "If you don't toss me around like a ragdoll, I won't set anything else of yours on fire. We share the prop wall. I'll let you have the windows however you want, but from here on out anything else we agree on."
<br />
<br />
Blythe held out her hand. "It's a deal if you buy me another pillow."
<br />
<br />
Technically the pillow thing had been entirely her fault. Firedrake would let this slide for now because if this roommate thing didn't work out, one of them could always join up with a different carnival troupe once they reached Concordia. There was no actual rule that said soulmates needed to live together, right? With this thought and an escape plan or two running through their head, Firedrake took her hand.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7672523172773330793.post-27776656706177245322018-03-21T15:50:00.001-04:002018-03-21T16:12:25.494-04:00Soulmate AU Series: "Stuck With You" Chapter 2<h3 style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<i>Seb's birthmarks were different, particularly the one wrapping around his wrist. Instead of black, red shifted into yellow into green into blue before fading back into red.</i></h3>
<br />
(There's a writing game/challenge on tumblr where we write an AU [alternate reality/universe] story every week. I'm going to be writing a multi-part story about all five of my main characters using the prompt <i>“A [platonic] soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.”</i> The events are all [or mostly] canon to the series; the only real change are the soul-marks. This chapter of Etri's would take place about seven years before the trilogy.)<br />
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<i>Unexpected Inspiration</i> AU Series: "Stuck With You"<br />Chapter 2 <br /><span style="font-size: small;">(<a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">First Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you-part-1.html">Previous Chapter</a>, <a href="http://musingsofamessenger.blogspot.com/2018/03/soulmate-au-series-stuck-with-you.html">Next Chapter</a>)</span></h2>
The crisp snow crunched under Etri’s feet in a sickening way reminiscent of the rough gravel floor of the Sanctuary's acolyte quarter. His skin burned every time he sunk into a knee-high drift, the pain a constant reminder of the flames that waited for him should they be caught. His fingers were numb under thin gloves meant for concealment, not warmth, and his robe was nigh-useless outside the cavern city. It had been cold underground-- every day of his life had been spent shivering-- but nothing had prepared him for this overwhelming numbness spreading through his body. If he couldn't find shelter soon, it wouldn’t matter that they had escaped. They would die anyway.<br />
<br />
There was no shelter on this gods forsaken mountain. What appeared to be a city from a distance had turned out to be nothing but a dilapidated pile of stone. Once people had lived here; whether they were the priests and priestesses who were banished underground long ago or if they had merely been victims of the cold, he could not guess. All that mattered was that they were no longer here. Ghosts, while a possibility for information if he could get them to listen, were to be avoided in case they were eyes and ears to those who lived below.
<br />
<br />
There would be no help for him and Seb here.
<br />
<br />
At least the snow had stopped, which meant they could move again without fear of walking in circles. Etri had no way of discerning direction without the tunnel markings of which he was familiar, but a clear sky and a visible landscape made for a better chance at getting away. Until last night he had heard only stories of the sky and these had not prepared him for how incredible a dome-that-was-no-ceiling could be. Only the most powerful were allowed to ascend the mile-long temple stair and he now understood why. Given the sight of so many stars, of so much <i>space</i>, what acolyte would wish to remain in the gloom and murk? True stars were beautiful sparks against a blue-black expanse far greater than the largest cavern, so extraordinarily unlike the sickly luminescent moss lining the walls throughout the city or the flickering caged magic the light-summoners used to illuminate the Sanctuaries.
<br />
<br />
At this moment the snow rolled on forever, bright and blinding in the sunlight. It was painful, disorienting, and not as pleasant as night, yet still superior to the confining stone that had been Etri's whole world only hours ago. A part of him feared that this whiteness and brilliant light meant he and Seb were dead and within the realm of the god of light. Perhaps in sacrificing his future to save his kin, Etri's own god had forsaken him and left him in this cold, bright place empty of all life. It made far more sense than the fact that they had not been followed; only his own footprints marred the fresh snow and he could not sense any shadow nearby. If leaving was an automatic death sentence, where were the ones who would inflict this punishment?
<br />
<br />
Etri retraced his steps to where he had left Seb in the only shelter he could find. It had no roof, but two and a half walls had prevented much snow from drifting inside. When he stepped out of the snow and into mud and unexpected warmth, he stopped to stare. Seb sat with his head bowed and his arms wrapped around his knees inside an expanding circle of slush. Within moments this melted, turning the ground to mud before it dried so solidly the earth split and cracked. How had Seb kept magic this powerful a secret for so long?
<br />
<br />
That was when Etri noticed what was most certainly not hidden. He sidled up to his brother without actually looking at him. "Seb?"
<br />
<br />
Seb sniffled. His voice was so quiet, so defeated, that Etri strained to hear it. "Don’t wanna be called that anymore. <i>They</i> named me that."
<br />
<br />
This choice was understandable, all things considered. What was not understandable was the fact that whatever-he-wanted-to-be-called was no longer wearing anything. Etri fumbled around for the discarded robe and held it out to him, taking care to only look at Seb's face. As a temple servant, Seb had been allowed to show this, although Etri and the other acolytes were forced to wear deep hoods.
<br />
<br />
Seb snatched the robe only to toss it away with a grimace distorting the features Etri so recently learned matched his own. "No! Those clothes are bad! Everything there is bad! I’m not gonna-"
<br />
<br />
That was all Seb managed to get out before his body begun to shake. Etri jumped to his feet, ready to stand between him and the shadows that must be causing him harm-- until he realized Seb was simply sobbing. Although if he was caught crying... no, that was the wrong thought. If he was discovered to be crying, that would mean they were caught and showing emotion would be the least of their crimes.
<br />
<br />
Etri had learned no words for comfort or compassion, even for the one person who meant everything to him. He could only watch as Seb sunk to the scorched dirt in tears. As the resuming snowflakes hit his too-warm skin, some melted over the black stains scattered along his spindly limbs. When Seb shifted to wrap his left arm behind his neck as though trying to retreat into himself, Etri's assumption about the two of them being identical was proved wrong. Seb's birthmarks were different, particularly the one wrapping around his wrist. Instead of black, red shifted into yellow into green into blue before fading back into red. Once when he was still regarded as a servant, Etri had been sent to the Sanctuary of Light to deliver a message. There he had stared in awe at a crystal that reflected light into a multitude of colors yet had no color itself. Could Seb have a similar phenomenon on his body because he possessed light magic?
<br />
<br />
Seb's sobs intensified and Etri ached for a way to help. He could not change what had happened and could not bring back what was lost, but perhaps he could influence the future. He now knew that he would not survive without Seb's warmth and in this state Seb could not take care of himself. Should they be caught, their individual magics would likely protect the other. If they were to live, it must be together. If they were to have a future, they must abandon their past. Etri took a deep breath. He had already failed the rules against touch by grabbing Seb's wrist to pull him away from fire and death and into the relative safety of the snow. He would willingly fail over and over if it meant comforting the only person who mattered.
<br />
<br />
Decision made, he tugged off his gloves only to stop short of reaching for his brother. Colors swirled and morphed over the palm and fingers of one hand in a perfect mirror to the mark on Seb's wrist, although part of the birthmark remained as black as the one on his opposite hand. This was strange, but ultimately unimportant. Etri dropped the hated gloves onto the dirt and rested his hand lightly on Seb's shoulder. He would stick by Seb-- or whatever he chose to be called-- from now on. They would get through this together or not at all.
<br />
<br />
<center>
<img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVhgSGKFtdT33V6apvsGwMk64h5wgYJsnsPgFxmx9G1SAhxVaw4xqdqYeP_2o0ny8lb1sM804SdJ1WAlfzqMesAmJJTyeymhfUJlZB25sp-WP7muY61hiE3RJgZDI98TecthsSdCLubfW/s1600/banner+larger3.png" /></center>
Meri Greenleafhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10524790636777606009noreply@blogger.com0