with-my-murder-flute:The Witness for the Dead though

i love this

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The Witness for the Dead thought:

I ship Celehar with Iäna Pel-Thenhior partly because it’s going to be hilarious when Iäna shows his true colours, which is to say, acts like a writer. (He writes operas, after all. And has that fondness for bloodthirsty old Barizheise ones…)

Celehar, coming home and hanging up his coat: I have seen unnameable horrors. I have bathed and bathed and yet not washed off the stink of death. I am unfit company for any living being.

Iäna, muttering under his voice as he scribbles: Have not washed off the stink of death…

Iäna, normally: If thou wist to go to bed and not say a word, I understand, my love

Iäna: But if thou'rt staying up…

Iäna: My character has just murdered a man and has to hide his corpse nearby. What’s the shortest possible length of time before he rises as a ghoul?

Celehar:

Celehar, pulling up a chair: Well, that depends. Where are they located geographically? (Your picture was not posted)

love-and-cubs-and-white-wolves:Yennefer and her daughter in Blood of Elves, by Emily Carroll

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Yennefer and her daughter in Blood of Elves, by Emily Carroll https://emcarroll.com/ (Your picture was not posted)

doings

writing, fic snippet, snippet post

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how is it thursday? for that matter how is it almost fucking august?????? i am

well i don’t have much concept of linear time is what it comes down to, and i knew that already, so

i want, very badly, to do a friday update, of something, and i have a chapter of the roche/iorveth thing almost done, and i have a chapter of the sparrow thing almost done, and i have instead spent all of today’s free time on a completely different future bit of the sparrow thing, so like

sigh

we’ll see how i fare tonight.

here is a snippet from what i think will be chapter 10 of the sparrow thing, which is not up next (i’m like 99% sure the next chapter is 9 but you know numbers aren’t real so i’m doing my best) but i’m posting it anyway.

“Why are you in bed? It’s so early.”

“Sometimes a lady likes to get a bit of extra downtime,” Luliana said primly.

Voorhis frowned. “Are you unwell?” he asked. He really didn’t look like a man who’d just climbed in a window, though he wasn’t dressed up either. He wasn’t wearing a doublet, just an unornamented tunic with no shoulder padding, though of course it was a perfect expensive true-black.

“No,” Luliana said, aware that she looked tousled and sweaty and just now noticing that she’d put her shift back on backwards. Well, if assassins had burst in for her, she’d have just had to die naked. If they’d been quick maybe she could’ve died thinking about Cirilla’s tits. Not a bad way to go.

“Are you quite sure,” he said, giving her a once-over. She pulled the blankets up to her chin.

“Yes,” she said. Why was she hiding? She thought of what she’d surmised, of why Voorhis might find her unthreatening.

“You look flushed,” he said. “If there’s some sort of contagion–”

“For pity’s sake, Voorhis!” Luliana snapped, “I was having a wank, do you need to know everything? Should I tell you what I was thinking of, or do you already know that too?”

Voorhis’s expression went completely blank, and then he blushed, quite deep red, which was extremely gratifying. “Oh,” he said.

“I was thinking of Cirilla’s breasts,” she said, with relish, knowing it would mortify him, and it did. “Do you ever think of them?”

“I,” he said, bright red and wide-eyed, “no.” (Your picture was not posted)