For the record, I have thousands of songs but a decent percentage are local files. Spotify has never counted them, and did seem to count songs I skipped after 30 seconds as "listened." It shit me to no end.
Somehow this is the first year my Spotify showed my top 5 artists as... my actual top 5. And every single year Placebo has been at the top.
Finally some accurate fucking data
#WIPSnips
Surprisingly none for yesterday? Still not sure how. But here's todays! Crystal! And a little bit of magic.
#WIPSnips
and one for special. It's a character moment, but I'm shrinking the text again for trigger warnings. Mentions of violence. Nothing too extreme but I'm putting a content warning just in case. I am writing a dark fantasy, but I don't want to share the blood on main.
#WIPSnips
So I searched "third" and my only match was this description of the four fae courts. Except I've edited it and when I pulled up my document, the latest version of this section removed the word. I'm still counting it.
#WIPSnips
I don't have retrograde, but I have "moving backwards" in old magic literally holding a character in place and stopping him from continuing.
#WIPSnips one for spend!
#WIPSnips
I tried to find something for "Progress" but I have nothing. So here, in a story about characters running from the law and from evil fae, I have... run.
#WIPSnips and one for week!
#WIPSnips I got plenty of buildings, but decided to go for the building pressure of the world ending instead.
I'm a dumb moron baby and forgot to add #WIPSnips
Aric could still feel the magic thrumming under his skin. It felt like an itchy shirt that didn’t fit, one that wasn’t comfortable no matter how much he squirmed. It wasn’t the shirt itself – the clothes that Mala and Wil had brought for him were softer than anything he’d ever owned. Nothing could be worse than the scratchy and tight-fitting uniforms he wore in the palace. This one might have been a chiton, or a tunic, something in between that he couldn’t name, but it was loose against his skin and airy against the growing heat of the morning. The fabric made him want to spread his arms wide and let the open air sail through him, but the thought of moving his arms beyond his sides made the wound on his back ache. Wound was the wrong word for it. Something inside him was rotting. It had buried deep into his torso and settled into his bones. Even when Tseren had tried to pull it free, it wasn’t coming out. He’d felt it spreading, reaching diseased little fingers across his skin and dragging him back into that place – the place he couldn’t remember but saw every time he closed his eyes.
I've made the text a bit smaller on purpose today for the trigger warnings. I am proud of this scene but it's... a little body-horrory. I won't share the most explicit stuff, but it's still a bit gross if you're not into that kind of stuff. Anyway, shirt!
#WIPSnips This is a 6th century equivalent. I don't have any burgers, sorry :( but my first chapter does feature a feast!
#WIPSnips This snippet is one of my favourites because when I was getting feedback a friend of mine commented "oh no, a wild goth" and it's all I can think about now.
#WIPSnips
and one for picture!
#WIPSnips, and I arrive to catch up again! Doing this with a cat on my lap to make this a lot harder. Here's little!
Same though
Peaceful climate and anti-genocide protesters are pepper sprayed and tackled, while neo-nazis are given permission to display their hate at Parliament. Now they're threatening MPs.
michaelwest.com.au/neo-nazis-th...
Drawing of a tired puppy with the caption; "this too shall pass but like holy f"
Mood
In a world filled with poverty, disease and suffering, choosing to be a billionaire is soulless, selfish and immoral. Choosing to be a trillionaire is downright evil.
Sechen swept forward then and pulled Tseren into a tight embrace, almost lifting her clean off her feet. Tseren returned the hug, numbness making her movements automatic and uneven. Calling this woman an aunt felt wrong. It wasn’t a blood tie that connected them, but the simple fact they were both women of the Sunken Mountains. With only twenty or thirty residents at any time, every face became an aunt, a sister, a cousin. But Tseren wasn’t a woman of the south shores anymore.
#WIPSnips I tried to find something to match yesterdays prompts, but god help me I had absolutely nothing. I hope you don't mind me skipping it. This one has movement, but also a reflection of Tseren moving away from her old life or smth? idk...
‘How many stops before the guards find our trail?’ Tseren asked. It was the first words she’d spoken all day. Aric wondered if she had the same kind of long trails of thought he did. He wondered if any of them came back to how strange her red hair looked. He’d never seen anyone with red hair before. It might have been a witch thing. There was a difference between witches and Mysicas, he knew that much, and if Lord Rhal was a Mysica, then Tseren was the opposite. Maybe. He didn’t know her that well.
#WIPSnips I got one for trail!
Sign please to stop AUKUS
nb.australiainstitute.org.au/aukus_parlia...
She turned the sword over in her hands, considering its weight and unsheathing it enough to inspect the bone ingrained into the steel. She’d seen many bones throughout her life. Rituals of the de’gorva nji and their animal bones. The broken torture of Okhotur. This material was definitely bone, but bone in a blade didn’t make any sense. It was brittle compared to most metals, specific and hard to work with. The more important question was who owned the bones before they became part of the sword?
#WIPSnips
You know ya boy has fun swords to fight the monsters with.
How would it be if she were another soldier, a woman with a sword instead of a once-in-a-generation creature. Yet, if she hadn’t seen the wall today, this family would be dead. If Aric’s reaction hadn’t also warned them. It was the first time she’d interacted with anyone who didn’t know she was a mysica. The first time she had the power to tell people who or what she was without anyone else to cut in. It felt nice.
#WIPSnips
I had exactly one result for Nice. Luckily, it's a Tseren chapter, which have been my favourite to write. Don't tell my other characters.
The roof and floor were flattened, held up by more pillars that were half buried into the wall. Every second one had a banner flying from it, each of them in various states of wear. The first were so worn and moth-eaten they were only brown rags, while the others were dusty and faded, holding symbols Wil didn’t regonise. Save for the last two pairs. A blue and grey banner showing a flaming sword – the unmistakable flag of Shihoa – while the other was the same as the courtyard, The back of a clenched fist wrapped in thorns. The pillars beyond held no banners at all, as though waiting for the next symbol to come along.
#WIPSnips
I don't have any cobwebs. I guess old and worn-down will have to do!
‘The Ancient Ones,’ Aric whispered. Rhal nodded. ‘My ancestors, yes.’ He got to his feet, pacing around the fire towards Aric. Aric sidestepped him, keeping the dying flame between them. The fire flickered and struggled to stay alight, the shadows growing long behind Rhal as small flakes of frost broke free from his cloak. ‘When they left this realm, it was after it had been changed beyond recognition. We’re seeing the same events take place now, and I believed they needed to know.’ ‘You wanted them to fix it,’ Aric muttered. Rhal chuckled. ‘Perhaps.
#WIPSnips
I'm happy to join! I have some catching up to do, but that's okay!
I feel like the context makes this scene spooky.
I watched a lot of those old 70s-80s shows growing up. And anything is queer if you think kissing is overrated lol
I'm Jane! Or professionally, I am J.F. Narnett. I'm a Queer Australian author, and my current project is the Shadow Guard. I'm spinning it as the A-Team in the world of Dragon Age. It's a dark fantasy with rough and tumble heroes and I am still deep in editing hell. But getting there.
Moving house is keeping me busy. Finding somewhere to live is keeping me busy. I am plugging along at my edits though. Second verse, same as the first.
