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new year, new... hair?

happy new year!

Manuscript Word Search Tag

Thank you for the tag @oh-no-another-idea !

These are from a LOT of different WIP’s of mine, because without fail, all of the words I get are never contained within one novel. Also, I’ve apparently never used the word fuel. Who would have thought?

Feeling:

She felt like a god, and for a second, she understood why the villains did it, just to keep feeling this strong, invincible—

Float:

Instead of going back to her room, she veered through the halls, sliding out one of the few balconies and into the night sky. The air buffeted around her, holding her like she was nothing. It was comforting, almost. Like floating in a pool, but better. Always better.

Fancy:

“Cheap shot,” he remarked. She kicked his leg in as he grabbed her wrist, and her back slammed into the floor as he went down to his knees.

There was a mural up on the ceiling, something ornate and fancy. She only looked at it for a second before Catastrophe was looming over her.

“If you leave now, I might let you live,” he offered, and she glared at him.

Fish:

The brig smelled of fish, sweat, and regret. She had no idea how much of that came from her, and how much of it came from the salt warped walls.

She didn’t know how long it had been, but she did know they delivered food every so often, seemingly without schedule. Either the siren was trying to keep her disoriented, or it simply kept forgetting she needed food.

This is an open tag for anyone who sees it, and I’ll also tag @imaginativemind29new @jay-avian @clairelsonao3 —your words are shimmer, slight, stab, sorry, shadow

manuscript word search tag 🎏

Filling out an old one today from the wonderful @talesofsorrowandofruin -- thank you, friend! These are from my royal taster wip, which I wrote a bit of yesterday :)

Matter:

Anaar’s face was dim in the waning light, but he was frowning. “The emperor is very clever,” Sal told him. “No plan, no matter how clever, survives the first battle,” Anaar intoned dully.

Minute:

“What do you want?” the teenager asked. She was bored, selling on her boat all by herself. Hot too, likely. She wasn’t at all worried about a tiny urchin girl. Sal just smiled and sat down with a plop. She interested herself with some fraying rope pieces; separated into five, carefully coaxed back into union. The teenager lost interest in her within three minutes. Sal tipped over the lobster baskets.

Morning:

Breakfast the next morning was congee with salmon, carried up to their schoolrooms on several heavy trays. Sal ate half her bowl and then remembered Anaar was somewhere down in the kitchen eating happily, having dodged another poisoning to keep her safe. She put her spoon down, got scolded by Master Li, and missed half the questions in her books.

Myth:

The imperial palace was bigger than even the city, Sal was almost sure. She walked through the doors with Master Li and promptly forgot where the doors were. Statues of precious golds and jade adored every room, and the doors were so tall they disappeared into the far-off idea of the ceiling. Wall paintings depicted pieces of story from ancient myths, and Sal studied the lowest parts as she passed, nose to nose with the black ink strokes. Had the artist flicked the brush just so on purpose, or had it been a fortuitous happening?

I'll tag anyone who sees this, and also @writingamongther0ses @avocado-frog @the-stray-storyteller @did-i-do-this-write @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @the-broken-pen @serenanymph @late-to-the-fandom -- your words are fish, fancy, feeling, fuel, and float 🐠