Work In Progress - Blog Posts

Snippet from The Ithaca Mandate

The shuttle door opened, and Judith’s breath shuddered out of her lungs. She expected officers, maybe commanders and ensigns. But the first officer she spotted was the last one she expected to see.

The uniform was familiar.

Command red.

Grey eyes darted around the chamber, mouth gaping a bit in some kind of startled awe. Then they landed on Judith and Lyris, and the face morphed into a scowl.

“Of course.”

Captain Elara Becketts strode forward, combat boots thunking on the debris coating the floor. She came to a stop before them, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You two are like goddamned roaches."

Snippet from The Farm at Wardenwood Hollow

On the dryer, the old tabby cat she’d inherited with the apartment was coiled tight into a wad of scraggy fur on a pile of clean clothes she’d folded and forgotten to put away. He purred in his sleep, oblivious to her presence in his soundless, elderly world, so she tapped twice on the fabric to let him know she was home. He blinked and unfurled, long and ribby, mouth gaping open in a nearly-toothless yawn. She held out her hand and he bumped his head against it, then turned in a circle and curled back up on the clothes.

“Rough day?” she asked him, smirking as she rolled the towels and laid them in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Must be nice, freeloadin’ like you are. Ain’t even got the good graces to hear me when I’m talkin’.”

From the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the bag of prescription cat food, dropping a couple scoops into the bowl she kept on the shelf behind the washer and dryer, then wetting it with water from the sink. The tabby watched her, blinking slow and uninterested as she worked, then yawned again when she was done.

For a few seconds, Taryn stood there with her hands on her hips, same as she always did, waiting for the cat to decide whether or not to waste the food, same as he always had.

“Heck with ya,” she said after a minute, then flipped the switch for the fan and the light over the tub. “But I ain’t leavin’ it out all night this time. You damn near put me in an early grave dumpin’ that last bowl while I was sleepin’.”

-----

Synopsis:

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week.

Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up.

Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple.

Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow–something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm.

And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.

"He asked about you," Eva said, rubbing one arm and then shoving a hand in her pocket. "Who you are, why you care."

"I don't like bullies, is all," Taryn replied with a frown, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "Ain't need no more reason than that."

"He says you got a mouth on you. Says you oughtta learn when to shut it."

Eva looked at the ground as she said it, kicking at the gravel with the toe of her boot.

"That what he said?" Taryn asked, and she almost grinned as she leaned back on the column.

"That's what he said."

"And what d'you think Miss Eva Kincaid?"

"I don't think nothin'."

"That means you think somethin'."

Eva looked up, and her mouth and her brows settled into hard lines.

"I think you gone an' pissed off Mister Sterling. An' I think you just might wanna listen to him."

Taryn regarded her. She still wasn't swayed. She could tell Eva knew it, too. She pushed off the column and came a step closer.

"I'll think about shuttin' my mouth when he thinks about keepin' his hands off o' you. You can tell him I said that, too."

-----

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week. Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up. Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple. Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow. Something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm. And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.

Snippet from The Ithaca Mandate

“How long?” Judith asked, hugging her arms against her ribs. She shivered slightly, the chill of the open space seeping into her. “How long until…?” The question ground to a halt, and no amount of will could force it into the air. How long until we’re gone? She could hear it in her mind. She could see it in the gaunt lines of her reflection. The bones of her cheeks and shoulders pushed out against her skin and the thin fabric of her undershirt, her brown eyes framed in dark crescents–fault lines and shadows where there should have been rolling hills and light. Judith scrubbed a hand across her face, like she could wipe that terrible, broken reflection away. Beneath them, Ithaca creaked and trembled as if even the leviathan herself was afraid of what it meant to die. Rage boiled to the surface, at the great, suffering beast still clinging to her perverse, miserable excuse of a life and her demands she not die alone. How long until you finally let us go?

“I told you once that Ithaca was hell,” Lyris said softly, her head tilted. “She wasn’t hell, Judith. I found you there. She brought you home to me.”

"I’m not supposed to be here."

Breathe, Judith commanded herself. In and out. It’s just a ship. Just another goddamn ship. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure how she knew. Ithaca was beautiful, the flawless, blinding white of her walls an homage to the glory of Gestalt’s ambition. The pride of her builders shown in every bolt and every weld, but every inch of her demanded deference from the ones whose lives she’d carry into the abyss. Nearly a thousand souls aboard and yet Ithaca had none, her hull an empty carapace against the vastness of the void, and so, she required theirs. The vessel rumbled beneath Judith’s feet, but it wasn’t pleasant like Ardent. It was a warning to her, like Ithaca knew Judith wasn’t like the rest–like she knew Judith didn’t really belong there at all. Judith was an intrusion, an unexpected variable this entity hadn’t foreseen–one she didn’t quite understand how to bend. She doesn't want me here.

WiP cards

The Ithaca Mandate: Chapter 14 [Snippet]

VESHARI FREIGHTER NAQ’OTAH: 5 Years Earlier

Judith cast her attention out the grimy freighter windows. In the distance, another vessel hovered in the gap between stars. She was so far off that she looked little more than a specter–a vestige of alabaster against velvety black, a shiver of movement in the void. The red bloom of her engines was just starting to grow, expanding as if to obscure her from the insolent violation of Judith’s gaze. Ithaca had arrived six days before Ardent to render aid to the stricken freighter, but her presence there was grudging, a sour token of compliance to her Captain’s demands. Judith could sense the great ship’s resentment in the way she loomed, her colossal impatience pulsing across the expanse in time to her engines’ ominous burgeoning glow. The red swelled until it encompassed her entirely, and then with a violent flare Ithaca was gone, snapped out of existence as though she had never been there at all. Her departure seemed almost petulant, her sudden absence so striking it stole the air from Judith’s lungs and returned it to them molten. She stared at the empty place where Ithaca had been, blistered and breathless, unsettled by an instinct she couldn’t define.

Wip

Can you guess who this is???? 😊

And she isn't going to stya naked for long. I just need a reference on where the cheek is...

Happy Halloween to everyone! This was supposed to be an art to commemorate the occasion, but I'm terrible with deadlines... So here's a little wip.

The way I’ve been here for the past 4 weeks or so-

SHITTY JUNE WIP FOR 4/13 IN CASE THE FINAL VERSION ISNT DONE BEFORE THIS BEAUTIFUL HOLIDAY IS OVER

Finding beauty

I love the dark, but still

I’m the happiest when I feel the sun kissing my skin

I love warm weather, but still

there’s nothing compared to sitting on a sledge and rushing down a hill

I love my home, but still

breathing fresh air and hearing the birds chirping is what keeps me alive

I love being happy on my own, but still

I don’t want to go on this journey of happiness alone,

I want to share it with you

Life is full of “but still”s and there’s nothing wrong with that

As long as you can see the beauty in every single one of them

Fragile Pieces

Trust is a fragile piece of paper

And you seem to have a hole puncher in your back pocket at all times

A lighter at hand as well

Punching, ripping, burning my once whole paper

Leaving me with a sad little snippet

A little crumpled up, even after a lot of smoothing

There’s this pathetic peace of paper I’m holding onto

It’s not much

And it won’t last forever

But I won’t give up

Because I can still read the words

Scrawled in your handwriting

“I love you”

Trust is a fragile piece of paper

And as long as it’s marked by you

My pitiful peace of paper

Will stay with me

At all times

Reorganization

Panic attacks at night

Swollen eyes, crusty lips

Fear of existence

Coating my red face in tears

Shivers shaking my body

I’m a loser

“Come here”

Sudden relaxation

My hand clinging to the pocket on the front of your hoodie

“It’s okay, don’t worry”

Forehead kisses

Careful strokes over my back

Calming my breath

“I’m sorry”

“For what?”

“Dragging you into this mess”

“I don’t mind your mess, I’m here to reorganize”

I radiate light

I am sunshine

So please stop trying to tell me

That I need you

When I surely know

You always dimmed my light

So others wouldn’t see my glory

~ excerpts of me moving on ~

Missing Home

And again

I am surprised

about how much

a person

can feel like home

even though

they once

made coming home

the worst part about your day

~ excerpts of me moving on ~

A process I’m still stuck in

Missing you makes me feel weak

You shouldn’t miss someone who broke you

Someone who took advantage of your kindness

Someone who made you feel worthless, still does

Someone who treats you like an option

Someone who does not care if they hurt you

Someone who never thinks twice

Someone like you

But I still do

Learning to be alone again is a process I’m still stuck in

But deep down I know

Missing you is better than being mistreated by you

So fuck missing someone like you

~ excerpts of me moving on ~

patella would 100% own poodles