After my last post about Dracula, I felt like I had to absolve myself by trying to draw/sketch an actual design. I couldn't let Lizard Dracula be my Only legacy.

I. could not decide on clothes for Dracula because costuming is the bane of my existence (in art, at least).

Sloppy little comic.

Terrarium Lights, pt. 3.13

Previously on Terrarium Lights: a new person (?) has entered the chat (Next part coming soon)

"I was wondering if you'd come back," he called. The voice was the oddest Gail had ever heard. She heard it clearly, and yet it seemed made of silences. Like it made itself known by quieting all other sounds about it than by making sound itself. But she almost missed it in the sudden realization that this new person’s teeth with fully black, but in a way that felt like they were that color because they were supposed to be and not because they were unhealthy or rotted. Just… black.

"I'm sorry," Jonathon said, halting before he could walk to the edge of the path. "I… when I realized, I… I don't know… I panicked."

"You always were a bundle of nerves," Samuel said with a fond chuckle.

"I… I suppose that makes sense. I wouldn't know. I've, um, mostly lost my memories."

"Ah.” Samuel looked more strained than surprised. “Do you know who I am?"

Jonathon nodded. "I know bits and pieces. But… I… well, the thing is… I might forget again. After today."

Samuel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Right now… I'm, well… I don't know if I can quite call myself a ghost, but… similar." Jonathon looked back at Gail as if for help.

Gail made a shooing motion at him. "Go talk to your friend, say what you both need to. Don't worry about me. I’ll be here if you need me."

Jonathon drew up his shoulders, and walked out into the space between two trees, right at the edge of the water. Gail stayed back. She knew she was here more as a “just in case” and less because she herself had a definite role to play.

So she decided to take stock.

Samuel was a true ghost, as people most often spoke of. Jonathon was a ghost in his own way, but—Gail understood as they faced each other—they were opposites. Jonathon was still alive. Samuel was not. Jonathon was still warm, still lit with his own odd life; Samuel was colder as the ocean depths, highlighted in negatives.

As if she needed any further evidence that Samuel was no longer in the domain of the living, Gail saw what lay in the grass beside Samuel's pale gray boots: a skull. A fresh one. Gail did not doubt that, if she looked further, she would find further evidence of this new skeleton—the creatures of the woods and the sea had done their work thoroughly, but they had little interest in clothes; there were scraps of it about. And more—around Samuel's neck was a white cord, hung with a steely, gray-blue pendant that looked to be somewhat star-shaped. Gail could glimpse something glinting dully by the skull, and knew that a more normal-looking version of the necklace could be found there.

In a way, it was a mercy. Skeletons could be gruesome enough; a half-decomposed dead body would be far worse for a grieving parent. Not a pretty sight to have as the last image of their son.

Gail slid down against a tree, planning to recover her legs before they had to leave again. She clutched her shawl closer around her.

Jonathon and Samuel were talking—Jonathon might have been crying.

Beyond them, a white-gold sun, dazzlingly brilliant, poked its tip over the horizon; it sent a trail of shivering light skidding across the ocean.

"Lord," she said, gripping her shawl as she looked up at the leaves above her, towards the sky, "your creation is beautiful, and your people are stranger than ever I knew—and I've met some odd ones in my time. I wish I knew some kind of last rites to say over the boy, some prayer or passage that the preachers would know. I don't, sad to say. The best I can do is pray that you would lay his soul to rest, that he may find his way home to your arms and to his family's. And be with them Lord, as they are left behind. Again. Lay your peace on them to help them through this new trial. If I can be of comfort to them, I pray you’d let me."

She continued praying for a while yet, and recited what she could remember of 1 Corinthians 15.

*

The sun was hard to look at, so large and bright it had become, and the woods around them sounded with the lives of a hundred different creatures in the middle of their morning routines. Jonathon came back. He pulled a sleeve across his eyes, face as wet as a semi-ghost's could be.

“First,” he said, his shoulders braced. “You said earlier that you would tell me the whole story someday. Do you promise? With all the evidence and detail that you can?”

Gail nodded, solemn. “I promise.”

"Well then," he said, sniffling. "I think I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be.” He took in a deep breath that was half gasp. “It's time for me to wake up."

Previous

Next

This feels like a bit of a weird start to the week--last week I finished a work project that I had been helping with for 1 1/2 years consistently, and 5 years off and on. It's kind of bittersweet, because now I can go on to new things, having more time available. But also it feels odd that it's over.

Hey, here's a question you can probably answer: I wouldn't mind reading more short stories like this, and I feel like you might know where I could find those. Like a specific collection or something. Fantasy but not action intensive. Interesting characters, well drawn. Situations that seem less complex than they turn out to ultimately be.

I've been reading sci-fi and fantasy for most of my life, but I can't remember anything I would describe as a cottagecore sci-fi ghost story. Any idea where I could find more stuff like this? Where would you try to publish this when you finish?

Thanks again for the story so far.

Oh, good question!

I.... am actually not sure. I was thinking of self-publishing, so I'm not really sure where to find traditionally published stories in the same vein. So far, it's the kind of story I've seen more of on Tumblr than in books.

I know @epnona-the-wisp has some short stories that are more "characters living their lives but with Magic" vibes, so I would suggest those! @bookshelf-in-progress, too, I know has some pieces in that vein (I can't remember what they're called, but the ones in the world where stardust falls are lovely).

Other than that, potentially you could look through the short stories at @inklings-challenge! There are a lot of stories covering a lot of different vibes and topics, and I've read a few that are more character-focused sci-fi/fantasy.

If anyone has any other suggestions, feel free to chime in!

Also for the WIP ask game: The Witch in the Woods (Assasin AU)?

Thanks for the ask! (ask game >>here)

Info:

Someone else already did this (>>here), but not to fear. I have a lot of information and this is a long scene.

Backstory behind the scene is that Zo didn't kill Lyn, but he did turn her in as a captive (which was still technically allowed by his contract). However, his clients tried to kill him, too, in order to further cover their bases and keep their secrets hidden. This did not work, and Zo left and yoinked their captive, too (purely for revenge reasons, of course). Lyn is still very tired but also like sure this might as well happen. They head back to the castle that houses the [assassin's guild] (name still pending), thinking that Zo's mentor would side with Zo--after all, their clients broke the contract.

Except, well, the guild also wants Lyn dead, and Zo's mentor doesn't like that their best assassin has started developing human empathy. So he tries to kill Lyn as an object lesson, as any loving mentor would do, really. Zo did NOT almost get killed over this girl so that he could passively sit back and let her die, and he's kind of fed up with being betrayed, so he fights back, yoinks her again (though she already got hurt), and skedaddles with a magic artefact he steals on the way out.

Left without many options and knowing the guild is in hot pursuit, he decides to try his luck with the local wood spirit witch sprite thing. He is not pleased by this, partially because he's not a big believer in magic. Local wood spirit witch sprite thing is not making this any easier on him, either.

Snippet:

What if he had just more surely killed them both by following a wild hunch? Zo gritted his teeth. Too late for doubts now. “[Spright]!” The quiet of the forest returned stiflingly as soon as his voice faded away. In the stillness, Zo realized his heart was beating much faster than he had anticipated.  He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Some flash of light? The ground shaking? Lightning and thunder?  “Hmmmm, here’s the deal, I don’t do things anymore, especially not for people from the Castle.” Zo whirled around. He had heard absolutely nothing, and yet, lounging against a tree with her hands shoved into the pockets of a faded green cloak, was a brown-skinned girl who didn’t look to be much older than him. Dark brown, almost black, hair spilled and tumbled out of her hood and all over the place. Her dark eyes were lit up with vivid sparks of green, and looked extremely bored. She waved. “[Spright]...?” Zo asked cautiously. He had been trying to summon a person, and now a person was here, so that was the logical conclusion; but this tired-looking young adult--only a couple inches taller than Lyn, and similarly slight--was so far from anything he was expecting from any of the legends that his attempt at logic felt more like trying to use a stick of butter as a handhold.  “You called,” the girl pointed out. “I’m almost sorry to have wasted your time. But I don’t place curses on people, I don’t grant wishes, I don’t have any gold or know where any can be found, I don’t kill people, I don’t work miracles, I have a strict policy against necromancy, and if you’re here to fight and defeat the scary woodland menace, I don’t do that either. You look young enough. You can still go back to the Castle and realize you’re on the wrong life path and get out before it’s too late. Good-bye!” “Wait, I’m not—” The girl vanished, her image melting away into gold and green lights scattered in the sunbeams.  Zo blinked.  “Hello?” He reached forward, half expecting to touch something—but all he could feel was the tree bark behind where she’d been standing. 

Puddle Girl?

Thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)

Info:

So "Puddle Girl" refers to a girl from one of my stories, Jemima Grace (she goes by Grace). She had the audacity to grow up as besties with the son of powerful mages, and the probable subject of a prophecy. His aunt and uncle do not approve of this connection because they have Very Big Plans, and he should have better and more important friends. So at one point when the teens are accidentally out in the woods after dark (which they're not supposed to), the aunt and uncle shove Grace through a(n illegal) portal and wipe their hands of the affair, pleased that they've "protected" their nephew.

What they didn't know (and what she didn't know) is that she also has a kind of magic that allows her to travel through reflections (in mirrors, or, say, puddles) to different worlds inside Dimere. She doesn't know how to control that power, so she gets lost among the realms--before getting tracked down and adopted into the Mirrajer's Guild, where she can get properly trained.

This document is a scene where she is trying to talk her bestie out of adopting a seeing-eye dragon.

Snippet:

“Okay, so you have a pet now, and he’s a dragon.” Grace stared at the both of them, trying to process the fact that, this morning, not only did Conner not have a dragon, but he had given no indication that he would ever have a dragon, or even that he was wanting a dragon. But now there was a dragon. And according to Conner, it was here to stay. “Yes. Look, I know this is a very complicated topic for you to grasp-” Conner began, smirking. “Oh, shush.” She punched him on his arm. “How long did you think about this? Did you even think about this? Did you consider the fact that you’re going to have to keep him somewhere? Give him food? Take care of him? I’m glad you made a new friend, but-” The dragon poked its head out from behind Conner’s knee, giving Grace a side-eye that she could have sworn was sizing her up with disdain. “His name is Sparky, by the way,” Conner interrupted, “and he is now my seeing-eye dragon.” “No.” “Yes.” Grace pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t just say that to get what you want. Do you have answers to any of the questions I asked you? Also… Sparky. Really?” Conner chuckled. “I mean I did think about Erebor, or Toothless, but I don’t know, it kind of seemed to fit.” Grace shook her head. “You’re a dork.” “Certainly. But now I’m a dork with a dragon.” “You can’t just adopt stray dragons!” Grace exclaimed. “There are rules about this! I think! Also how are you going to train him? Since he’s not just a pet and is a ‘seeing eye dragon’.” Knowing he couldn’t see the air quotes she was making, she made sure to put special emphasis on that last part.

Hello, since I am evil and subjected you to this ask game, I will also subject you to asks mwahahaha :))))

May I request: I'm Not Here to Make Friends >:(

*Gasps, faints* How... how dare

Anyways thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)

Info:

This is from Rifters (series 1), where Kathryn is living in a steampunk/superhero world, becoming a part of the younger-hero-training-school-place. Her stint as a superhero has made her some enemies, and her friends from that world also have enemies. One of them is trying to tear down the superhero structure from the inside out, and so, as a first step, has sent his best asset minion adopted son and secret weapon to infiltrate the hero guild place (I really need to define things) as a spy. Part of his mission is also to locate a specific hero who has no traceable identity but has been a thorn in super villain's sides ever since, uh, *checks notes* the out-of-world newcomer came in and stopped the apocalypse.

Benn (currently Eabennor) is an angsty loner teenager who is just here to DO HIS JOB and he doesn't care about anyone ever-- Especially not that Nuisance (Kathryn) who keeps following him around and trying to talk to him--he's Spying and they are his Enemies (aka this is his feral kitten era).

Snippet:

“Anything else you want to say before I slam the door in your face?” He asked—hoping his bitingly sarcastic tone and smile left her little doubt that he meant it. “What about dinner?” she asked. Eabennor stared at her, halfway between exasperated and confused. “I have no idea why you’d think I’d be interested.” Kathryn blinked. “…In eating?” “What?” “Since you just got here you have to sign up for dinner,” Kathryn explained, tilting her head. “Though I suppose you’re probably not keen on interacting with people, or not today at least.” “Oh.” “But you should still eat,” she continued, “even if you’re not interested. The food is very good here.” “Yeah, probably.” Eabennor bit back any other comments that might embarrass him further—though thankfully she seemed dumb enough to not have noticed. “Supper time is usually at 6:30,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully, “I’ll talk to someone in the kitchen about setting aside a plate. If you go down at 7:30-ish, it should be pretty clear, at least besides the kitchen crew cleaning up. How long that takes can vary, though, so I can’t give you a solid estimate on how long they’ll be there.” “Good to know,” he said flatly, considering the viability of carrying out his threat from earlier. This whole conversation—no, this whole day—had been a complete trainwreck, and he desperately wanted to be left alone.  “Exact details for the future can be figured out later, though,” she said, smiling brightly, as if looking forward to the conversation had given her a new meaning in life—obnoxiously cheery, he thought to himself—“Matthias is the first door coming into the hallway, and I’m in the hall across the way, so if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.” “Is that all.” “One last thing,” she added, with what he could have sworn was a mischievous glint in her eye, “I hope you have a lovely rest of your day.” Maybe it was petty, but slamming the door did turn out to be quite cathartic.

O Desafio - História please!

Thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)

Info:

So this is actually a bit of a weird one lol. I grew up in Brazil and speak Portuguese as a second language, so at one point when my family was traveling in the States, I decided to write a story in Portuguese for practice. I was not good at the finer points of Portuguese, and hadn't read much in Portuguese, so the prose was, uh. lacking. Still, it became a fun vibey fairytale sort of story that I still really like, and hope to someday come back to. Probably in English since I do Not trust my grammar/prose in Portuguese, but who knows, maybe it (and all of my books maybe, fingers crossed) might get translated.

It's the story of a young orphan girl, a skilled information broker, who gets contracted by a councilman to help him confirm the existence of faery encroaching on their kingdom. He's worried that something is terribly wrong in the faery forest that will also affect them, and wants her (and a small team) to find out what they can about the situation. She agrees, because he promises, in return, to get her the proper papers and funding so that she can leave the country --but she is very skeptical that "faery" is a thing. Also the heir to the throne has been missing for a while, which is definitely totally unrelated to the fully-trained knight in their party.

This scene is when Kira, doing preliminary investigations, gets attacked and knocked about by a shape-shifting monster in the woods. She is not a fighter and not used to monsters--thankfully, someone nearby is.

Short snippet:

Uma lança apareceu, de repente, como se estava crescendo do pescoço da criatura. Com um gorgolejo horrendo, a criatura cambaleou por um longo momento, o processo de transformação parado. Tombou no chão. Kira exalou, percebendo que ela estava no chão ainda, estremecendo. Ela ficou instavelmente de pé, retornando a funda ao cinto dela. “Tu deves ser a Kira.” Ela virou, procurando a voz. Pertencia ao um cavaleiro; ele desceu do seu cavalo, levantando o viseiro do seu capacete e revelando uma cara muito mais jovem e gentil do que a armadura pesado prometeu. Ele era mais alto que parecia no cavalo--Kira se ofendeu nisso. Ela não gostava de se sentir mais baixa do que precisava. “Sim, sou eu.” A própria voz era estranho e tremulo. Acalma, Kira. Respirando fundo, ela adicionou com mais força, “e quem é você?” O cavaleiro sorriu e estendeu a mão. “Sou Alnor. Foi mandado para te procurar.”

Translated snippet:

A spear appeared, suddenly, as if it were growing out of the neck of the creature. With a horrible gurgle, the creature staggered for a long moment, its transformation process halted. It thudded to the ground. Kira exhaled, realizing that she was still on the ground, trembling. She got unsteadily to her feet, returning her sling to her belt. "You must be Kira." She turned, seeking the voice. It belonged to a knight; he got down from his horse, raising the visor of his helmet and revealing a face much younger and gentler than his heavy armor promised. He was taller than he looked on the horse--Kira took offense at that. She didn't like feeling any shorter than she needed to. "Yes, that's me." Her own voice was strange, quivering. Calm down, Kira. Taking a deep breath, she added with more force, "and who are you? The knight smiled and extended a hand. "I'm Alnor. I was ordered to come find you."

🎶 POYOOOOOOOOOOO 🎶

So true, bestie 😎✨

For the wip ask game, how about Lyn wants to go home?

Thanks for the ask!

Info:

This was half me being angsty and processing via Lyn (she got a lot of that, poor girl), and half me trying to think through her character. I'm not really sure where it is in the story timeline, but somehow she ends up by herself, and after a bad day has the thought of "I want to go home"--but then she realizes she doesn't know what that means. So it's part her being angsty because she doesn't know what to do with that but part sweet because as she processes she realizes that "home" means her new "family" (the Rifters).

Snippet:

"Home" wasn’t her university. That much was certain. Despite the comfortable quiet of her dorm room, it wasn’t hers, and it wasn’t an escape, and had felt like a different kind of purgatory all its own. She hadn’t had any places besides that. And with the rifts, well, there wasn’t anywhere they stayed consistently. What could be considered home out here? Lyn sat and hugged her knees to her chest. She still wanted to go home.

and from later in the document:

Sometimes, sitting by the fire had felt like home. Those days of enforced rest, hanging out in the quiet of the woods—it had carried its fair share of horrors and discomforts and stresses, but there had been breaths and snatches of something nice, chilling and talking with Zo and keeping her mind off the pain.

(for reference, ask game >>here)

I'd love to hear about First Meetings and The Witch in the Woods from that WIP ask game!!

Thanks for the ask! (from this ask game)

First Meetings:

Info:

The first part of the scene is actually already up on tumblr! You can find that >>here. It's (currently) the opening scene for Fallen Breath, a story about a Lawful Good(tm) detective and a probably insane sailor lady investigating the supernatural curse that's sweeping through Santa Juliana. The idea already existed but it got solidified and made A Thing by Inklings Challenge 2022.

So this scene would be the first time they met, and also the hook for the mystery (Julia has info and she wants Crispin's help because he's not affiliated with the Detective's Guild, unlike most private investigators).

Snippet (this is from the document, after the scene on tumblr):

The day drew to a close, the black darkness of night smothering everything until the streetlights struggled to stay alight. Further toward the middle of Santa Juliana, loud peals from the belltower marked the time. 1800hs.  Crispin shrugged. Maybe she’d had to stay overnight in the hospital.  Turning up the collar of his coat and shoving his hat over his mop of red-gold curls—wondering wistfully if maybe the darkness meant it’d be socially acceptable to not wear a hat—he went out to call a cab for Ms. Hallifax, then began locking up. It didn’t take long.  For all that the monstrous and skeletal building of bronze and glass was large and sprawling, there weren’t many rooms and, consequently, not many doors. Most of them were on the second story, anyway, and there were only two stairways to that.  Clicking the locking mechanism closed and shoving the fold-key into his pocket, he thought for the twentieth time that week that it was time he got to cleaning the multitude of windows. Sometimes he regretted not having thought about that when he bought the place. Maybe that had been why it was so cheap; either that or the fact that it was constantly falling apart. 

The Witch in the Woods:

Info:

This is a slightly different kind of project, since it's an AU of my ocs, but also it's canon. It gets complicated but (spoilers) basically a thing happens where reality gets fragmented and as a result a bunch of AUs happen with different versions of and different storylines for the four core Rifters (Kathryn, Benn, Lyn, and Zo).

In this AU, the "Assassin AU," it takes place in a more medieval fantasy setting. Benn and Kathryn didn't come in and shut down the assassin program run by the government (well, its equivalent in this world), so Zo is never rescued out of that. Benn has disappeared, Kathryn is hiding in the woods because she's become bitter, and Lyn never gets friends who care about her and take care of her, so she's just fully letting the depression win.

The story for this timeline gets kickstarted when Zo is sent to assassinate Lyn (who, in every universe, knows far too much), and for the first time comes face to face with someone who *wants* him to kill them. This is too weird and intriguing and Wrong, so he refuses to kill her (to her frustration). Instead, he goes rogue and starts figuring out why she's supposed to be dead, dragging her along for the ride until she learns that life is worth living, and he learns to have a moral compass. They also meet Kathryn and Benn along the way :)

This scene takes place when Zo goes back to his "guild," expecting to find help after his clients double-crossed him, only to find out that, no, yeah, his guild also wants Lyn to be dead. His mentor tries to make it a lesson in "don't get attached to people--you're an assassin so you're supposed to be Smarter Than That," but Zo has gotten a Friend now and doesn't fall for it. They make it out, barely, but Lyn is mortally wounded, and they need help, now. So there's this borderline eldritch witch in the nearby woods that his guild has always feared and avoided, but like, he's left them, so, uh, maybe it could be a good idea to ask her for help.

Snippet:

“Go.” Lyn waved a weak hand at him. “I’ll be here when you get back.”  He set his jaw, curling his fingers around one of his knives, and set out deeper into the woods.  It was darker, more silent than ever, the tree trunks crowded closer, the roots more knobbed and scattered under foot, making walking more difficult and uncomfortable. But he wasn’t going far, anyway.  He unsheathed the oak-wood dagger he’d swiped on his way out of the castle--polished, worn, carved with letters he couldn’t read. He knew what they said, though. It was the title of the person he was summoning, and he remembered it clearly; it had been the day Julian had told him to never go into the woods. Fitting, then, that it'd be one of the first places he went after cutting ties. On one hand, the fact that he had stolen a magic artifact from the castle meant that [people from the castle] would definitely be after him, but on the other, it wasn’t like they were going leave him or Lyn alone anyway. He hadn’t told Lyn what he was planning to do, and unease churned in his gut. No matter which legend held truth, this was probably a stupid move. It wasn’t like he had anything to offer in return, and he was the last person who’d be able to appeal to someone’s humanity. Not that he’d really tried yet, but there was also the doubt as to whether or not whatever was here was human.  This was a fool’s hope, certainly.  But desperation had certainly made a fool of him.

(and one more because I couldn't resist)

The girl tilted her head, cloak fluttering about her in a wind he didn’t feel. “And why do you think I will do what you ask? Last I heard, the rumors were that I was a monster.” “Because those aren’t the only legends, are they?” He hoped Lyn was right. “At least that’s what she believes. That the old tales of a being who traveled throughout the land, in this region specifically, and gave aid to those who needed it.”  “Oh?” Her eyes narrowed. “Why is that me?” “I…  don’t know exactly.” He bit back his growing frustration with an effort. “Something about the legends ceasing around the time you showed up here, or some of the characteristics being the same. It’s not really my area of expertise.” “No, it wouldn’t be,” she said thoughtfully. She didn't sound judgmental, but, considering her earlier vague remarks about “Castle people,” Zo felt his efforts to check his irritation failing rapidly. “So what are you going to do?” Zo asked.  “Avoid history repeating itself,” she said.  The cloak fluttered a little more, and she vanished.

Once more, the count goes out in his lizard fashion.....

I saw this picture (under the cut) and couldn't resist

A little guy