It's #WIPWednesday so have a snippet from Luna's Vision:

Natalia smiled at him, eyes gleaming. "Clear sight. You'll also be able to see wounds and weaknesses." She flushed and cleared her throat, "According to Ozana it can have… other uses."

"Other-" Marcus shut his mouth with a snap and turned to study the floor. Oh, he was definitely blushing now.

"Weaknesses, huh?" Victor whistled. "Hey, Marcus, where's Leyla ticklish?"

"Don't you dare!" Leyla squealed when Marcus turned to look at her. "Marcus Lear if you say one damned word I will-"

"Dishes."

Everyone blinked.

"What?"

"You do the dishes for the next week," Marcus said, a wicked grin lighting up his face, "And I'll keep your secret."

"That's blackmail!"

"Nah, giving my teammate some extra motivation."

They were still arguing when the pizza arrived.

#Snippet #L3 #AmWriting #AmEditing

Doing edits on Luna's Vision and I completely forgot about this ridiculously cute scene between Benj and Marcus

“Yeah... okay. Message received. Thanks for being nice about it, I guess.” Benj put his dishes in the sink and turned to walk away.

A hand caught his arm and he stopped.

“Benj,” Marcus said softly, “That's not a no.”

Benj slowly turned and found himself staring into Marcus' deep brown eyes. He could drown in those eyes.

“It's a not now, but it's not a no.”

Benj swallowed. “For real?”

Marcus nodded. “For real.”

“You'll, uh, tell me when?”

“Yeah. I'll tell you when.”

#Snippet #L3 #Queer #Romance

I took a breath and let it out slowly. Dalca was rude as fuck and I understood why Emil said my mother didn't like him. But he was also dealing with a disaster and dozens of injured clanmates. “My sot, Leyla, will handle communications for me. Please get her the phone number for ****'s people so we can stay in contact and make plans before their arrival.”

Dalca grunted again. “Alright, that makes sense. I'll call them and then be in touch.”

He hung up without another word.

I sighed and handed the phone to Leyla. “So... here's the plan.”

#AmWriting #L3 #Snippet

2000 words edited and 500 written in about an hour.

Not bad progress, especially given how the day started.
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But Moira had been very closed mouthed about her life before she'd been first kidnapped by pirates. Zdenko hadn't minded -- had prefered it in fact. For all he accused of Moira of getting attached, he knew very well he could fall in love with that woman wihtout hardly trying. Not learning more about her was part of keeping his distance. It was took late to let her go without it hurting, but that didn't mean he needed to make it worse.

So he didn't realize how closed mouthed she'd really been until he started trying to figure out where she came from. That was when he realized that he didn't know the planet she came from, her job, or even if she had any family she'd been missing.

And when he asked around, no one else did either.

#Snippet#AmWriting#Meadowsweet

Ooh... Um... let me see what I can find that isn't too spoilery.

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The graveyard was quiet at night. There was probably a watchman somewhere, but if so I had never seen him. And my sotii knew patience and silence – it was part of why I’d chosen them. Though I still wasn’t entirely sure why they all had chosen me.

“I know you aren’t really here. You’ve become the grass but that isn’t the same as /being/ the grass. And Lună can hear me anywhere.

“But it won’t be the same when I can’t come here.”

After a minute, Marcus cleared his throat, interrupting the silence.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small stone. One I’d found the night Marcus and the others had agreed to be my sotii. Setting it carefully on the gravestone, I stood up and dusted off my pants.

#L3#Snippet

"Is that what you call it?" Nastasia snorted. "You became distant. Silent. You went on duty, and everything stopped. Karen even stopped asking to see my knives."

Karen meeped and jumped on Nastasia. "I forgot about the sharps! Damn it, I forgot about the sharps." She buried her face in Nastasia's neck, and Leyla would have said something, but Nastasia pulled her close. "I'm sorry. Work messes with my brain."

Leyla sighed. "I'm starting to think it messes with all our brains."
---
4,300 words done on The Last Lady of Lună. Gonna take that nap, but may come back and do more later.

#AmEditing#L3#Snippet

Lefeng hadn't been there when Paiokp's bad luck caused the fishing ground to fail 10 storm seasons back. Wasn't there when eir family turned their backs on em after the death of eir Cenn. Wasn't there for… so many things. Sometimes Paiokp worried that eir bad luck might have, in some way, caused the great wave. But others before em had been sun-touched, and surely the wave would have come many times if it was a matter of bad luck. Surely that – all those deaths – couldn't be eir fault as well.

Paiokp's vision blurred and ey blinked away tears. The light coming through the screen had dimmed enough. Ey carefully rolled up the work and wrapped it up in a linen sheet. And then ey left.

----

3000 words of Planting Life edited today. Yay progress!

#PlantingLife#Snippet#QueerFiction

Finished work for the day. As usual crazy fucking interruptions and shit spread a total of 6 hours work over 10 hours of the day. But could have been worse.

Anyway, finished the day with L3: 500 words written, 4000 words edited.

Not bad.
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I looked at them again. Everyone but Karen had their faces locked down, showing nothing. "You've got a lot of reasons to be pissed with me, and I won't apologize for doing the best I can to survive. But I sure as hell never wanted to trick you or force you into...

"I didn't tell you that 'sotii' means 'spouses' because I was afraid you would think I expected it. And I knew better."

Karen made a sound of protest, and I smiled at her, afraid to believe, afraid of how the others would react, but not willing to refuse her. "I thought I knew better."

"Karen--" Marcus started, but this time Leyla interrupted.

"What did you expect?"

#Snippet#L3#WhyChoose#Vampire

Write 500 words and edited 1500 words of Planting Life today. It's coming along well and I'm tentatively setting the release date for mid November.

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The hearth would be the first step, Chotaikytsai decided. The hearth was the heart of the home, as well as being namesake for two of their family. It needed to be respected.

In eir mind, ey drew out a map of how the home would look. Beds for children and grandparents there, along the west wall. Near to the door in case of emergency. Parents opposite on the east wall. Storage, food, logs around the hearth covered with rugs and furs for sitting.

Woven rushes across the floor, and eventually hangings on the walls to add more color…

Yes. It would take time, but they could do it.

First, though, to move the blankets in. Proper beds would wait, get them in out of the sun immediately.

#Snippet#PlantingLife#ChosenFamily

Finally reached the points in Planting Life in a Dying City that need actual revising, so work has slowed down a LOT, only abuot 1000 words today.

Still, progress is progress.

Have a snippet:

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Chotaikytsai sat at the fire with Tsouchm. The crackling flames were loud in the quiet night. Their neighbors had already retreated to their homes for the night, at the city was almost disturbingly silent. It was quiet enough ey could almost hear Lefeng, Kolchais, and Kyawtchais talking by the gate. Almost.

The murmur of words was indistinct, but Chotaikytsai could see clearly the shy smiles and shining eyes. The joy in Kyawtchais' hands.

With a smile of eir own, Chotaikytsai reached out to take Tsouchm's hand. Eir skin looked nearly black against Chotaikytsai's lighter brown, the difference caused by the years Tsouchm had spent working in the sun while Chotaikytsai wove. Chotaikytsai traced eir thumb across one of the darker spots that dotted Tsouchm's hand and sighed at the young parents finally saying their goodnights. "To be young again, ey?"

#PlantingLife#Snippet#AmWriting

3800 words editing today. Finished Kyawtchais' section, will be starting new section tomorrow. In the meantime, have a snippet!

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Kyawtchais nodded. "You will be leader."

Kolchais blinked, eir eyebrows reaching for eir hairline. Kyawtchais thought ey was startled. Then Kolchais looked to Lefeng.

"I'll be guardian to your trail-finder. You can navigate the currents of town better than I could, and honestly, I'd rather leave the hard choices to someone else. I've had enough of them for a while."

"Alright," Kolchais took a deep breath, "Alright. I can do this. But I'm not going to be like my once-parent. We all have a voice in decisions, so you'd all better speak up."

Kyawtchais laughed and signaled the guardian, "We'd need to gag that one to keep em quiet."

Kolchais reached out and Kyawtchais and Lefeng reached back, clasping hands. "We will do well together."

On the other side of the compound, Kyawtchais could see the silent-one watching them.

#PlantingLife#Snippet#Polyamory

Just edited what will be the shortest chapter of Planting Life, and all I can think is 'wow I did good.' I had completely forgotten this chapter existed and absolutely blew me away.

Entire chapter is just internal experience of autistic character going through sensory overload on the edge of shutdown.
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Kyawtchais struggled to keep eir head up, eir feet moving. The street was quiet, not like the market areas and docks where the familyless lived. But from inside the compounds came the noises of jungle fowl, children playing, grandparents yelling… and over (Or under) it all the scrape-scrape-scrape of Kyawtchais' own feet against the road.

The sounds, every one of them, even the littlest, hurt. Every movement hurt.

Ey came around the corner and saw tall-Lefeng… no, guarding-Lefeng waiting, hand on eir long knife, watching the street behind Kyawtchais. Safe, safe with Lefeng to guard and Kolchais to watch.
Kyawtchais dropped the distaff and sank to the ground, barely managing to hold onto the spindle with its burden of thread.

Voices around em, but ey couldn't separate out the words. Noise. Just noise.

A gentle hand under eir arm hurt, like lightning under eir skin and ey flinched away. But rather than letting go, the hand tightened, firm, crushing the lightning, grounding em. The hand lifted, and another on eir other arm, firm, firm, holding em so ey didn't float away into the nothing, the grey cloudy fog that filled eir mind.

#PlantingLife#Snippet #autistic#OwnVoices

"Woven fabric always makes me think of a square-net without holes." Ey continued to Chotaikytsai, "But you talk about 'looms' that were as wide as your arm. That's nothing like netmaking."

They spent the rest of the night talking about rope-making and village life. The next night, Chotaikytsai pulled out a little child's loom that was the only loom saved from the fire. Kyawtchais gave eir yarn, and the short-one showed them how to thread the warp and send the shuttle through to build the weft. The silent-one watched in fascination, and Kyawtchais thought it a pity the city had no room for another weaving family.
----
About 3000 words edited today. Yay progress!

#PlantingLife#Snippet#AmEditing

It's going well, I think. My current focus is editing, but Rai and I recently started re-drafting one of our stories from last winter. Progress and some fun on all sides.

Here's my most recent snippet from Planting Life:

They finished raising that section – the entire house-to-be now had walls to the height of eir knees – and Kyawtchais gratefully stood and stretched eir back. Spinning was not idle work, but a full day at the walls used more and different muscles than Kyawtchais was used to.

That, too, was like creating a family.

Together, Kyawtchais went with the gruff-one and silent-one to the outside hearth. Today, ey would stay for dinner.

#Snippet#AmEditing#PlantingLife

2000 words edited today. Less than usual, but progress still counts.

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Kyawtchais' Cenn had loved the trees. Loved them enough that in spite of the risks, ey had insisted on going out into the forest when eir contractions began. Penpy had a common name – dawn. Ey insisted eir child would have a name that meant something more than the time of day ey had been born.

Penpy had gotten eir wish. Deep in the forest at night, attended by fearful healers and hired guards, ey had given birth. The moment the child had left eir body, eir eyes had been locked on the foxfire glow only seen by those who dared the woods at night. Kyawtchaisawt, the cold fire was called. Kyawtchais, then, became eir infant's name.

It was a name that spoke of mystery, of secret things, of deep darkness.

#AmEditing#Snippet#Fantasy#PlantingLife

Planting Life in a Dying City is not a love story in the traditional sense. But there is so much love in this story.

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"I hope the day comes when you can give yourself to me as well. But you have shown me that you accept me as I am. I know if that day never comes, it will be because of your grief and not, as with others, because you reject me." Kolchais smiled and felt the smile to the depths of eir soul. Ey knew Lefeng now. Knew eir spouse-to-be as ey had known few others. Ey would grieve, yes, for a long time. But when ey was ready to move, ey would not be stopped.

Kolchais turned to face the night sky with Lefeng, the stars that guided the farwalkers and boatfolk in their journeys. When the day came, Lefeng would find Kolchais still here, steady as the stars themselves, which never stopped moving, but were always where you needed them to be. "How can I be angry that you grieve them? When it only shows me how great your soul is and how strongly you value those you love."

Slowly, Lefeng leaned over until eir head rested against Kolchais. Together, they watched the night sky.

"Perhaps one day, you can take me to the mountains. Show me how the stars are meant to look."

"I would like that."

"The spinner could come too."

"I think ey loves eir markets, the way I loved the mountains."

"Yes. But ey could still come if ey wants."

"Yes."

#AmEditing#Snippet#Fantasy

Singing… it was a private thing. A family's songs were shared only with their most trusted friends and, sometimes, extended family.

They were family.

In time they would make new songs, but for now, it was right that they share the songs of their childhoods.

When it was eir turn, Kolchais shared one of eir good memories from eir childhood – a song of wind and running eir Baba had taught em while they worked the family garden together.

----

About 3,000 words edited on Planting Life in a Dying City, almost done with Kolchais' section of the story.

They are learning how to build a family together!

#AmEditing#Snippet#PlantingLife