16 6 / 2014

5000 words and 18 pages down, exposition is finally going yessss

12 6 / 2014

hickeybickeyboo:

"Since dragons tend to burn up any bedding, they require a soft metal to sleep on"

that’s like the cutest explanation for a gold hoard

(via inkstainedchocolateeyes)

12 6 / 2014

Tavurtha lazily flicked her claws through the shimmering stream. Three days had passed since her fateful encounter with the green male and still she did not know what to do with herself. Her meeting with him left her mind buzzing like it never had before. Seeing someone live for himself, doing what he wished simply for no other reason than he wished it, with no regards to what tradition and necessity asked of him…the idea was so alien and nearly vile yet she reveled in it. She had spent these past days traveling here and there, taking in more than what was simply the next grouping of possible mates. She discovered prey creatures she never before knew existed, tiny as they were. She found that the colorful things that grew from the dirt were quite enjoyable to watch and even smell. But nothing she saw or smelled or heard seemed to make her feel the way Galiarth looked. These things take time, she reminded herself, they must. How else could one decide to spend years perfecting a treasure pile if they had not considered it for a lengthy period?

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12 6 / 2014

concrit is highly welcome at all times btw

12 6 / 2014

Tavurtha made the ceremonial small growl to let herself be known. But instead of the snorting and tail whipping return she was used to receiving, there was nothing. She had become so used to the males hanging around practically in her face the moment she touched ground that being greeted by nothing was a shock. After giving a few moments and finding nothing where she stood, Tavurtha decided to welcome herself inside and take a good look around.

 

What she saw impressed her outright. The horde piled high inside the cavern was gorgeous. There wasn’t too much of any one color, each gem and coin seemed to be perfectly placed for an exact intended visual. Instead of one large fire near the entrance, several small fires shined in strategic areas giving the treasure a shimmering glow. To say that Tavurtha was impressed would be an understatement. Sure, other males had equally nice hordes but none of them seemed to take so much care and attention to detail as this. She had to meet its maker.

 

“Who owns this lair?” she bellowed in the fierce, womanly growl her mother had taught her. Always speak with fire and dignity! She heard a sudden crash and what sounded like breaking glass before a small and dainty green gentleman appeared behind the pile.

 

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12 6 / 2014

the-thought-emporium-imperial said: You could also have a little fun discussing WHY Dragons amass a horde, if you hadn't planned on that already. Is it simply comfortable bedding that conducts heat properly? Is it raw instinct to gather shiny things? Do they ingest it to grow fuller healthier scales or possibly to gild their innards against the fire in their bellies the way some parrots eat clay to safeguard their stomachs from toxic food they enjoy?

I was gonna go with the standard shiny things instinct but man now you’ve got me thinking!

12 6 / 2014

 

  Light snow had begun to fall on the shining scales of the large beast. Specks of blue and purple shimmered together, creating a pattern that danced in the fading sunlight. Tavurtha awoke from her nap, stretching her wings and claws to the sky. It was another unsuccesful day on the most important hunt of her life, and she thought if she could at least have a wonderful midday dream it would not be a complete waste. Incidentally she dreamt of crushing the skull of an ugly old ogre in her jaws while silver jewels poured from his eye sockets so, mission accomplished then. She lifted her head up and reared back towards the sky, taking a good whiff of the evening air. She sensed this snow was going to turn into a long storm, and if she did not want to become part of the scenery she had better move on. Oh, the hardship of a maiden dragon!

 

Tavurtha had just begun her mating quest which is an important and life changing ordeal for every female dragon who reached egg bearing age. The dragon would leave the safety of her mother’s den and seek out a mate. She would accomplish this task by finding a male’s lair and inspecting his horde. Shiny was nice, big was better, both was the best. The better the horde the more suitable the male was for breeding hatchlings. Some dragons would never survive to find their mate, while others would settle down with the first decent horde they passed by. Tavurtha however could not afford either of these fates. Tavurtha was special, or so her mother said.

 

She held in her a special trait: the diamond markings on her back once prized by dragonkind and unfortunately soon after humans as well. These markings made her stand out and forced her to be far more discerning in her choice of mate. No regular horde would do, goodness no. Yet every lair she inspected had a plenty nice stack of shiny glittering treasure. She found herself focusing on shallow things such as the hygiene habits of the males, or even their ability to hold a conversation. One make assaulted her immediately with hopes and plans of their future offspring and would they might look like. She had not even seen a glitter of gold before this barrage hit her ears. She felt guilty for holding all these miniscule trifles over dragons who clearly had good taste in bobbles, and to make up for it would politely add some suggestions for improvement (perhaps a few more rubies on the west side would improve the display?) and leave quickly before things got more awkward.

 

This was not good. Tavurtha knew that failure to secure a suitable mate would result in a barrage of angry lectures from her mother. She had only just escaped her nagging clutches, the last thing she wanted was to invite herself back into it. Tavurtha felt herself stuck between a rock and a larger rock. Settle down with a boring obnoxious and quite honestly smelly dragon as soon as possible or face the consequences of an irate mother desperate to see her lineage carried on securely? Was there really no other path to take in this world? The thought of forever following a traditional instinct for which she felt no inclination for made the dragon feel like going back to sleep. For a long, long time.


Shaking the snow off her tail, she decided to brush such thoughts of misery from her mind. She was a strong and fierce creature and had no time for upsetting things. Besides, not every male had been inspected yet, perhaps the next would be suitable? With a small amount of hope still fresh in her heart, Tavurtha took to the sky ready to begin again. She flew from the mountaintops down to the valley below for a quick snack before taking off to the next mountainous chain in the distance. It was large enough that two, perhaps even three dragons could have set up home there. She looked for the signs of a lair: light smoke, a glowing light too bright to be a human’s campfire, and the smell of roasted flesh. It did not take too long to find what she was looking for. Tavurtha held her breath and landed outside, ready for what hopefully would be her final inspection.

31 1 / 2013

“…Flea?” she asked. “Your name is Flea? Were your parents cruel or just big Red Hot Chili Pepper fans?” she asked with a snark. His wrinkled brow was all she needed to know his confusion. “Right, okay, that was mean. Sorry. So, where are you from?” she asked, hoping to get this part over with quick. He simply stared back at her. “Family? Were you sick or injured? Hey, what’s wrong why is your tongue stuck all of a sudden?” she asked.

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31 1 / 2013

She had a momentary lapse of panic before realizing the guy stumbling around was very much alive and not looking to put her legs in his mouth. When the disorientation passed she freed herself from the metal trap and pulled herself to her feet. She could feel a bruise forming on her left calf but otherwise she was fine. The guy, however, was looking like a frat boy who had one two many red bull bombs.

He was a newcomer, she assumed. The polite name attributed to people abandoned in the hospitals and healthcare centers but somehow made it out alive. Coma patients and people with limited mobility were crawling their way back to civilization with no idea of what had transpired outside the white walls. Considering how terrible events were in those buildings, it was little surprise most search groups and recovery teams refused to go near them.

Mariana approached him carefully to make sure he was okay, but hoped upon hope she wouldn’t have to deal with this too long. She wasn’t big on charitable activities taking up her precious book time. 

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30 1 / 2013

When the dead start walking with the singular purpose of consuming the living you have to learn to live with the singular purpose of killing the dead. Mariana learned this fact quickly, and as the corpses of her parents began picking themselves off the floor, she did not think twice about picking up her father’s hunting rifle and taking them both back down.

Mariana had been through quite enough by now, and frankly when the exterminators rolled through her neighborhood with their armored trucks spraying the orange gas, she sighed behind her face mask with a boredom normally reserved with waiting for one’s latte too long. And now here she was, three weeks after total extermination, and she had settled into the new life with the same enthusiasm she had for her old life.

Pro: She had a job now. All able bodied survivors were conscripted into civil services and were paid with extra food rations as well as certain privileges. Work in exchange for food and luxuries, pretty much the same system it was before.

Con: When she graduated from college with a major in communication arts, she did not expect her bread and butter to come from translating the frenzied Spanish of old women to English for overwhelmed healthcare providers. She thought she had caught in to an easy meal ticket when the job caller posted for translators in multiple stations, but one day of telling women this station was rationing antibiotics and couldn’t give any more and telling men the government didn’t know where their children were proved otherwise.

Mariana’s days now consisted of waking up with the sunlight, boiling water over her small camping propane grill to mix instant coffee in, scarfing down a couple of energy bars, and making the two mile bike ride to her work station. The ride was peaceful and honestly the best part of her days now. She took the scenic route through the park, and though the old play area was broken down and benches were wrecked, the continued existence of squirrels and geese somehow settled her morning anxieties. 

Once she made it to the medical tent her day was filled with talking back and forth and trying not to be the brunt of everyone’s frustrations. Don’t shoot the messenger isn’t easy to remember when your family is starving and dying from infections and disease. When she wasn’t translating she was transcribing posters and informational pamphlets into Spanish. It was constant tedious work, but at least she wasn’t disposing of corpses or picking fruit in the grueling sun. She was now abundantly grateful to her grandmother for enforcing a strict double fluency law in her home (as much as she rolled her eyes at it as a child).

After work she presented her hours chart to the rations tent, loaded her backpack with whatever it was they had for the day, and made the ride back home. Before going inside she was greeted by her neighbor, Susan. The older woman had lost her husband and two kids, but her inability to lay down and give in allowed her to survive long enough for the extermination trucks to pull through. Mariana made sure to visit with her every evening. Her constant presence was the only thing connecting Mariana with her past now. 

Pro: She still had a home with a roof above her head. Surprisingly what was left of society seemed to collectively come together to restore rather than loot. Since the monsters were put down she no longer feared protecting her own home. It was hers, and it was a lot more than most people now had.

Con: It was worlds larger than she ever remembered it being before.

In the evening she ate whatever was in her bag, sometimes it was fresh fruit or dehydrated meat and sometimes it was a bag of peanuts. The rest of the evening was spent reading by candlelight, not much else to do. The gossip mill continued promising the government was working on restoring electricity but Mariana wasn’t holding her breath. She had an entire library of free entertainment on the way home from her station and really, it’s all she needed anymore.

A job to fill her time, a neighbor to look in on, food in her stomach, and a good book in her hands. It was a far cry from spending the day laying on her parents’ couch, posting on facebook about the latest British science fiction soap, and applying to part time retail jobs, but it was life now.

And frankly she was okay with that. What was the point in wishing for what was done and gone and never coming back?

Mariana had grown comfortable in her new life and was perfectly accepting of how things were going to be from now on. 

Which was why it was so inconvenient when Mariana rode home one day and almost ran into a dark haired boy in medical scrubs.