Hey babes, it’s been a while.
Things are actually really good. About (3?) weeks ago, right around Halloween, something shifted in my life. Not sure if it was the mold going dormant from the winter weather, the new probiotics I started up—magic? There’s always hope for magic XD—but I found myself adapting up instead of down for a change. I have so much energy. I actually hadn’t realized how little energy I had until it all hit me. I suddenly had a clean house, was eating daily, cooking again, getting errands done. I was able to focus writing for hours on end and not feel like crawling up the walls. I caught a cold soon after, and yet I still had more energy with the cold than before. It’s been damn good.
So, for those who checked up to see how I’m doing, no worries. Besides a few annoying things (such as a broken tooth with an exposed nerve just in time for Thanksgiving,) I’m damn fabulous. A little nervous as I wonder what might happen when the heat returns and the mold sprouts. I may have to find a frozen wasteland to live in full time…
So, what fun stuff to share? I carved a pumpkin for the first time this year! Not like carved, er, sculpted? Is that what they call it? It’s a 3d thing. Let me hit you with some pics. It’s of Pan from Pan’s Labyrinth, one of my all time favorite movies to be honest. I ran out of time, but I think his face came out pretty cool, if not totally orange. <3
Writing has been amazing. It’s flowing, it feels good, and I’m really happy with the direction it’s all going. Delving back into Demon Arms has been awesome. I love having the viewpoint of Theodore and Michael, some older (although not always mature) voices to balance out Wylie and Dorian’s younger perspectives. Theodore is such a study in grumpy coolness. XD
A little unedited preview for those curious <3
He unclipped the strap from beneath his despoiler coat and pulled free the sheath and encased diamond sword. When Theodore could trust that his voice wouldn’t reveal too much of his evening, he finally spoke. “Worried I was dead?” Michael grimaced at the accuracy of the statement and lowered his cup of tea. The intricate clock on the wall behind him displayed it was just after 3 A.M. “It’s the first time a dragon has been placed on the registry, ever. If I didn’t have the boys to protect…” Theodore turned toward him. The white cloth folded in his hand carefully moved along the laser smooth surface of his sword stained red. “I would have called if I needed help.” Michael’s eyes sharpened at the blatant lie, and Theodore looked away. He busied himself with cleaning the deadly blade. Michael’s gaze felt like a razor as he accessed every sign, every tell of when he’d been too slow that night, when his reflexes failed and his speed hadn’t been enough. It was as if he were flayed from his coat and clothes, and every injury, every bruise was revealed. Michael’s unwavering stare landed on the blood dripping down Theodore’s fingertips. He sipped his tea. “So, how did it go?” Theodore shrugged noncommittally. Pain lanced through his shoulder from the movement, and his jaw tightened. His eyes slid over his desk and to behind Michael where he kept a collection of rare, beautiful objects. Some were weapons as well, but most were art. Dragons of lore from different cultures representing sea monsters, fire breathers, and earth burrowers posed along the shelves. His gaze stopped on a coil of an Asian style dragon formed from gold, and then returned to the blade in his hands. “The skinners found a dragon tonight, just not the one they were expecting.” Michael exhaled slowly and placed his mug on the desk. Without looking, Theodore flicked his fingers, and a coaster appeared and went sailing across the room to land right next to the cup. Michael blinked at the sudden appearance and obligingly nudged the coaster beneath his tea. “Dead?” Michael asked quietly. Theodore licked his fangs as his inner dragon shuddered at the memory of hot blood. “Two. I lost the third in the ether before I could get a tracer on him.” Michael jumped up from the chair. “You were hunting in the ether? Have you lost your mind completely?” He moved around the desk, and his green bunny slippers flopped with each step as he headed right for Theodore. Theodore fought the impulse to throw his hands up, to strike out, to slash with the very convincing weapon in his hands that would prevent whatever physical contact was imminent. A shadow flickered in Michael’s stormy gaze, and he stopped short as he read the discomfort in Theodore’s stance. Michael’s fingers twitched at his side as he held back whatever compassionate impulse he had intended on indulging. “It wasn’t planned,” Theodore said tersely. “I’m not reckless.” Michael shook his head and reached up to rake at his golden hair. “No, it’s never planned. But if you were sensed in there…” “Clearly, I wasn’t. I’m alive. I’m here.” Theodore’s pale, violet eyes flashed steel. He turned and carefully placed the clear sword into its display sheath. He stared at it once he was done, not really seeing anything but the swirl of black and scent of blood still around him. “I still have prey to find. I’m sure he’ll offer me a chance to take his life soon enough.” Michael’s gaze slid down to the splatters of blood beneath Theodore’s feet. “You reek of blue ash. Can you even feel your arm?” “It’s fine,” Theodore muttered. He gripped his upper arm delicately and gritted his teeth when pain lanced down his side. “You know how quickly I metabolize.” “Maybe when you were twenty,” Michael shot back. “That shit is dangerous in high doses, even for shifters. I feel lightheaded just smelling it. The last thing I need is you falling into a coma.” Theodore rolled his eyes as he turned from the wall. He resisted the urge to brace himself no matter how much the room insisted on wavering. Michael’s disapproving glare came into view, and he growled warningly. “I’ll stop in with Rob once I’m updated on the kid.” Michael’s mouth remained tight with worry. “You can see Wylie for yourself in the hospital. He hit the nullifiers on the way out of the transport. He’s down for the night.” “Fine,” Theodore grunted. He hitched the sleeve of his despoiler jacket up his bleeding arm and brushed past Michael. He paused at his desk and pulled the stack of wards from a pocket and threw them next to the cheerfully bright cup of tea. He scowled when scarlet splattered onto the top heptagon ward and blurred out the intricately drawn insignia. “Fuck.” Michael’s eyes narrowed, and his suspicious glare followed to where Theodore was scowling at his desk. “It usually takes a lot more to knock a dragon out.” Theodore sneered as he used the outside of his coat to clean the blood from the ward. “He didn’t hold up well to interrogation.” He pulled the chiggers and a poisoned dagger from his pockets and slammed them into the desk drawer. He immediately spelled it shut while ignoring Michael’s outraged shout. “For fuck sake, Theo!” “For fuck sake, Theo,” Theodore mimicked under his breath. He lifted his head when Michael stalked over, and his tone turned defensive. “The kid’s fine. There was no time, the little punk had a mouth on him, and, well,” Theodore grinned sharply, “He started listening to me once he realized I was the strongest thing he was ever going to meet.” “No! You will not stand here and justify your sadistic, territorial bullshit.” Michael grabbed Theodore by his good arm, the tension in his fingers revealing he’d rather be shaking him. “These are patients, not enemies, not challengers. Patients!” Theodore stiffened in the grip and his breath stilled in his chest. When he met Michael’s gaze, the violet color had drained from his eyes to reveal an otherworldly white. “Whiteheart, my dragon has feasted on death tonight. The scent of blood is all around us. Kindly refrain from touching me unless you’re volunteering to be the next offering.” Michael’s angry expression grew darker, but he pulled his hand away and took a step back. “Theo, he needs protecting.” Theodore tilted his head, and color sparked back into his eyes as his dragon withdrew. After a beat, he waved his hand dismissively. “It won’t happen again. I was worked up.” His lips tugged down into a grim frown, and he turned away to dig through his pockets. A cell phone, five empty vials in need of refilling, and a compact mirror clattered onto his desk. “I was afraid for the ignorant punk. My fuck, what an idiot.” “He’s not the only one,” Michael growled under his breath. “It better not happen again, or I’m going to be the one who links with Doe.” “No.” Theodore whirled back, fire flaring in his eyes. He went to point at Michael, then thought better of it as his blood splattered in an arc on the floor. “Shit.” Theodore took a steadying breath and tried again, calmer. “I’m Doe’s guardian. No one else can protect him the same way. It has to be me.” Michael’s chest heaved, and he exhaled heavily. “I know. We all know. I just need you to not hate him for it.”I think way back in the day, Michael and Theodore probably fucked. I mean, you don’t end up being the few to survive while everyone you know ages and dies around you without hooking up once in a while out of basic companionship for sanity. They’re BFFs even if they totally can’t stand each other some days. They hated each other way more when they first met. XD I wonder if I’ll ever get an excuse to write the two of them when they were young and Theo’s family is killed off one by one… Hmm. I’ve been writing their backstory, if you can’t tell. Just filling out some more extensive character sheets I plan on sharing eventually. Doing a terms sheet too, because I want the world building to be more extensive. Squee, I’m totally nerding out over it. <3 I’m sorry it’s taking so long but I’m glad I’m making the effort because it’s going to make all the books going forward way better. If you missed it, you can read the first five rewritten scenes on the site here.