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Prince Writing

Prince Writing

by ♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️ ♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️

All my writing in one place! Background images by macrovector

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
3 months ago
some introspection between a cis character and two trans characters, from gunpowder messenger 💜 i can't wait for you all to meet them | #princeprosetag #snippetshare #booksky |
“You asked me before what character I’m playing now,” Lunacea said, her lashes casting shadows upon her cheeks as she lowered her gaze. “And I really couldn’t tell you. I’m reinventing myself, I suppose–but I don’t know who will come out on the other side. Perhaps I’ve always played some sort of role, and am only now coming alive.” “Why are you telling me all this?” Marlowe asked, his voice a careful whisper. Lunacea laughed, a melodic, hearty sound. “Well, if I’m going to be asking about you, it’s only fair I share some of myself.” She lifted a hand, letting it fall onto her chest with a smile that looked as pained as it was peaceful. “You two seem so… real. So secure, as though you know who you are. I was as drawn to it as I was angry.” It took a while for her words to fully register for Hessian. It came as a bit of a shock; Lunacea had appeared more secure in herself than anyone she had ever met. Marlowe seemed equally perplexed, leaving her words strangled in the stifling air between them as he struggled to make sense of them. “Knowing who you are doesn’t necessarily make it any easier to live with,” he finally offered. It rang deep and true in Hessian’s heart as she mused on her own identity; how happy and alive it had made her to live as her true self, but also how painful it had been to be different.
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
GUARD, from gunpowder messenger! not one of marlowe's finest moments | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
“Well, what a grand use of our time,” said Marlowe from where he sat on a scrap pile. Lunacea whipped back towards him, her ears bristling as she readied a response. “Let’s just go,” Hessian interjected. Her head was pounding, and these two suddenly being at each other’s throats was not helping. As much as she appreciated Lunacea for so readily standing up for her, she didn’t want any of it–in fact she’d rather take Marlowe’s jabs over kindness right now. “But–” Lunacea stammered as she spun between the two. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I could come help you look. We can cover more ground with the two of us, you’ll see.” “I’m sorry, are we leaving today or are we not?” said Marlowe. “Will you shut up already!?” Lunacea growled back. “Oh, okay, miss bodyguard. You just met! Who do you think you are? What do you really want with her?” “Both of you, just stop!” The Silfani turned at the shrill plea, seeming almost petrified in place as they regarded Hessian’s strangled features. She was mortified at the tears in her eyes and the quiver of her lips but she tried to stand strong; tried to exude any manner of confidence, authority, serenity–anything. But through her every movement bled the stinging sensation of weakness and failure, and she just needed everything around her to cease. She took a breath, and the voice that left her was not one Hessian recognized. But it was firm, and she hoped it left no room for debate. “It’s gone. That’s it. Now can we please just go?”

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "GUARD"! Here's mine, from Nightfall: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
FRAGMENT from gunpowder messenger! fine tuned this part today 🥰 | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
“C’mon…” Hessian whimpered, her shoulders slumped. “Silver lining. There’s a silver lining. C’mon, Sunbeam.” He would have known what to do. And he would have kept everyone’s spirits up while doing it, too. She concentrated on the memories of him, trying to summon even just a fragment of her father within herself. His smarts; his enthusiasm; his courage; his grit; his confidence. She mentally reached out around her–like throwing an invisible net over her surroundings, hoping to catch anything she might have missed or forgotten. Then she closed her eyes and breathed, the slow and deliberate exhales soothing the lump in her throat. As she did, she could feel the rays of the sun crawl across her face as her place in the shade shifted once more. But this time… it almost felt like a sign. And so she remained in the light. As if guided by it, she willed herself to find the light that shone within. She imagined it peeking through her own ribcage, gleaming outward. Slowly, she forced some solace into what she knew. She wasn’t alone. The Galecarver was still functional. She wasn’t injured, or starved, or lost, or being shot out of the sky, or back at home hiding in a loft that never felt safe. She wasn’t in that place anymore. Her existence was an undeniable truth. She was a person, with flesh and bones and dreams and thoughts. She was a courier, last of their kind. She was a woman, her father’s daughter, the circumstances of her birth be damned. She was alive.

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "FRAGMENT"! Here's mine, from Birthright: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
DRAIN from gunpowder messenger! another cozier snippet | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
Marlowe raised the ladle, giving the side of the pot a few taps to drain the broth. He heaved a sigh as he beheld his work, appearing only mildly satisfied before turning his back to fetch the bowls. He must have struggled with the meager ingredients he’d procured, but he’d still been far more prepared than the rest of them. Hessian admitted to feeling rather sheepish at how–comparatively–she just lived day to day and never planned ahead. Now she was responsible for two other people, and would have to take that into account from now on. To her surprise, the bowls were of wooden make. As Marlowe held the first one over the pot, Hessian admired its golden brown glow lit up by the fire, the dark ridges reminding her of fingerprints. Marlowe tipped the ladle carefully, filling the bowl with steaming leek and spud stew before handing it off to Hessian. She accepted it with a smile, cupping it with both of her hands as she blew at the broth. The bowl had been carved so smoothly, she couldn’t help but admire the craftsmanship before taking her spoon to it. Lunacea seized her bowl with a mumbled “thank you” and looked incredibly impatient as she waited for her portion to cool. Marlowe sat down across from her, next to Hessian, poking absentmindedly at his own. It quickly felt painfully quiet in their little hideaway ribcage of stone, and Hessian found herself immediately missing the idle sounds of preparation from a minute ago. She cleared her dry throat and sipped on the broth, shuddering as the salty heat warmed her up inside.

Damn I forgot to do the word yesterday, so we'll do 2 today! I'll post the second one later Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "DRAIN"! Here's mine, from Birthright: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
CURL from gunpowder messenger! | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
Now that she’d seen he lived by himself, her curiosity spilled out. “What about you, Marlowe?” she asked. “What are your parents like?” His gaze remained affixed to the flames, not even the shadow of a reaction in his ears as he answered: “Dunno. We never met.” “Oh… I’m so–” “Don’t apologize,” he chuckled. “Can’t miss what you don’t know.” She held her tongue, although his words did not settle her sympathies. She couldn’t imagine growing up with no one to teach her, hold her and keep her safe. Just spending her teenage years in isolation had been a lesson in agony; trying to envision an entire childhood bereft of what she’d had made her immeasurably sad for her friend. “I wish you could have met my dad,” was all she found to say. He looked at her then, a soft exhale tugging his lips into a smile. “Yeah, me too.” They left their musings at this juncture, falling instead into a contented silence. As soon as those arguments were set aside and their bellies full, the day’s events caught up fast. Blankets were procured and handed out from Marlowe’s ever resourceful pack, and Hessian gave a soft laugh as she recognized hers from the one she’d curled up with in his cottage. There were no bedrolls or pillows, but somehow as she lay down on her side to watch the embers sizzle upon the rocks, Hessian felt comfortable.

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "CURL"! Here's mine, from Impavidus: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
listen i love dargeus but his 1905 fuckboy mannerisms is like cyanide to poor luna | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
“I won’t ask you again,” Lunacea hissed, alerting Hessian to the fact they’d still been staring each other down during her nosy inspection. Hessian’s eyes darted anxiously between the two of them, unsure if the stranger had heard or understood the thinly-veiled threat. He finally reacted with a breezy chuckle, breaking the glower with a lackadaisical shrug. “Alright. Calm yourself, dollface,” the man said. “‘Dollface!?’” The hairs on Lunacea’s ears bristled even further, and she doubled over to make a theatrical gagging sound. “Thanks, I’m gonna hear that in my nightmares.”
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
TEMPT, from gunpowder messenger! the true tragedy of this story... no more hand pies | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
Lunacea’s lips parted to speak, but Hessian hurriedly took off before she could object. The scent of strong coffee, soft pretzels and cured meats all around her made her stomach want to cave in, and she allowed herself a quick look while she walked. She noticed then that most of her frequented food stalls were closed, despite it being lunchtime. That was highly irregular; not since the owner of the roasted almond stand had fallen ill for a week had any of them been closed. For so many spots to be empty in this normally bustling section was worrisome. Hessian cast a look towards the newsstand, conflicted. Then she slowed, glancing back to the spot where the smell of hand pies had tempted her previously. It should have been packed by now, but the owner was already cleaning out his equipment and stacking bowls back on his wagon. Checking couldn’t hurt, she thought. She approached the hulking man while he bent over his utensils, and she noticed he wasn’t just closing up for the day–he was packing up everything. “Wes?” she called out. Wesley rose to his full height, a glint of surprise in his hooded eyes that quickly dulled. He looked exhausted; resigned. It left an uncomfortable weight in Hessian’s stomach. “Heya, darlin’,” he greeted, managing only a fraction of his usual cheery smile. Hessian remembered a time when this giant, burly man had intimidated her. But his ill-fitting apron and asymmetrical beard had made her laugh, and she’d ignored her anxiety to try his work. She’d soon realized that Wesley was only scary to those who didn’t buy; he only bothered spending his exuberant energy on customers. But even that light seemed to have burned out as he loaded his wagon with all the things he’d made a name for himself with over the years. “If you’re lookin’ to get lunch, I’m afraid you’re too late,” he said. “No, I was just passing by, but… I saw you packing everything away so early, and not just you.” Hessian spun around, gesturing at al…

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "TEMPT"! Here's mine, from Impavidus: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
trauma, and what emotions do to your body. i have snippets with better depictions of the latter, but this one shows more than tells i think! | #princeprosetag #booksky #snippetshare |
But when she beheld the others, Marlowe only crossed his arms, still regarding Lunacea with cold suspicion. “You’re quite the actress, by the way,” he said pointedly. “It was shocking to see you drift in and out of character with such ease.” “What are you trying to say?” “I wonder what character you’re playing right now.” Lunacea pierced him with her gaze, tension in her jaw. “I don’t want to hear that from you,” she retorted. “And what the hell do you think you know about me?” “You’re more than happy to say you’ve figured me out, but when the tables turn you’re offended?” “You just brained a guy, assured us it’s happened before, and now we’re alone with you in a wasteland. Is it that strange to regard you with suspicion?” Please stop. The misunderstanding had been resolved; everything was fine, surely. Why were they still fighting? Despite the answers they’d received, tensions still rose. Despite surviving together, they broke apart. To Hessian’s bewilderment those two just kept finding reasons to shout at each other, and she didn’t know what to do. Stop yelling–I can’t take the yelling. Hessian could only squeeze herself for comfort, the raised voices and the indignation around her prickling at her still recovering heart. They should have all been relieved that they not only made it out alive, but also hadn’t left a trail of death behind them after all. They should be celebrating the fact it all worked out somehow.
Why does mom always want to argue? She doesn’t want to, Sunbeam. She has to. She’d always wondered what that meant. And now she wondered if this was the same. It seemed just being around Hessian summoned the worst in people, and they all had to yell at each other and be nasty and she would never find out why. So she kept her head down and stayed out of trouble, like her father had taught her. If you were invisible, soon they’d be shouting at nothing. If she was invisible, perhaps everything around her could be too, if she tried hard enough. She closed her eyes and shut out the noise, turning incensed voices into a muffled buzzing in the background. This way, she could imagine the argument was about something else. She could imagine it wasn’t an argument at all, but an amiable discussion between friends. She could imagine them eating soup and jelly on the floor and flirting and joking around and not feeling alone for the first time in ten years. She could pretend she was good enough to keep this from happening. That she was strong enough not to keep retreating into a void of her own making.

What are your favorite scenes to write? I love anything world building or dialogue oriented #writingq #WritingCommunity

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
THROAT, from gunpowder messenger! i have many great scenes with that word, but this one is special. cw for emotionally abusive parent | #snippetshare #booksky #indieauthor #princeprosetag |
“You lost your job,” she echoed. Hessian said nothing. She chewed on her lip again, noticing now how it had split earlier. Her mother threw out her arms in a helpless gesture. “How did this happen?” she asked. “I think one of my co-workers wanted to get rid of me. He blamed me for something I didn’t do, and Charlotte believed him.” Her mother hissed out a sigh. It dripped with such vitriol it could have seared Hessian’s skin. “I told you to keep your head down! Goodness, what are we…” Lea paced again, her frantic eyes lit up intermittently by the meager light. “What are we going to do now you’re jobless? Did you ever stop to think about what would happen to us if you don’t keep it together?” This would blow over. It always blew over. She would tire herself out and go to sleep and Hessian would get up the next morning and go somewhere better. But where would she go this time? Was this all she had to look forward to? “I’ll look for new jobs tomorrow,” Hessian breathed. “‘Tomorrow?’ How late do you think it is? No. You should go right now. We’ll be thrown out on the streets unless–” She stumbled on Hessian’s satchel then as she spoke, and stopped to examine the obstacle. Most of its contents had spilled out onto the floor, and she’d stepped on one of the rolled-up newspapers. Lea picked it up, and noticed the identical pair beside it. She unfurled them one by one, her face contorted into wild confusion. “Why do you have three of last week’s Brassburgh Bulletin in your bag? You know we can’t afford to buy those.” Something filthy sprouted in Hessian’s throat. Maybe if you hadn’t spent money you didn’t have for my entire childhood, we could afford a stupid newspaper. But she swallowed the words back down, fidgeting away. It was all she could do. Only when the stomp of her mother’s bare feet against the rug approached did Hessian cast her gaze upward, willing as much confidence as she could into her mulberry eyes. “How much…

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "THROAT"! Here's a slightly spicy one 👀💦 from Impavidus: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
CARRY, from gunpowder messenger! one of my favourite scenes that showcase hessian's kindness and playfulness 🥺 | #princeprosetag #snippetshare #booksky |
She knew what to do. Hessian shoved both hands into her shorts pockets and dug around, her tiny braids bouncing above her shoulders as she swayed impatiently on her heels. She didn’t yet own anything resembling a functional wallet, instead leaving her coins to rustle around in her various pockets. Marlowe already began to protest, having caught onto what she was doing. He pinched the narrow bridge of his nose with an exasperated breath, his ears folding back. But Hessian paid him no mind as she fished out a 200 quartz coin and slammed it onto the stand with conviction. “One of your week old newspapers, please!” Marlowe simply breathed out of his nose in light amusement, scarlet eyes leveling her determined features. “Don’t pity me, Hessian.” He slid the coin back across the counter and crossed his arms, watching her countenance turn somber for but a breath only to slingshot back. Before he could say anything else, she’d slapped another coin down with such force that a couple of passersby jumped in surprise. “Two week old newspapers, please!”
His fluffy ears whipped from side to side now, and Marlowe leaned over to place his palms down flat on the cool surface. “You’re making a scene!” he hissed. “I don’t need your–” “Three–” “Stop yelling! Alright, alright!” Marlowe relented. “Just take them before the whole town starts to think I’m refusing sales. Use them to kill flies or something.” “Thank you very much for the trade,” Hessian said with a satisfied smile on her face, rolling up the three papers to carry under her arm before marching off. This wouldn’t save Marlowe’s business, but it was better than nothing. Hessian was adamant that everyone in the slums should take care of each other in times like this, just like her father believed. It didn’t matter to her if they didn’t agree or reciprocate; she would care for them all the same. But with 600 quartz spent, as Hessian carried on past the gradually thinned out stalls, she realized there was no money left for an apology gift. She just grinned softly at that, proud of how she’d spent her last three coins. But a dejected sigh still passed through her lips; she didn’t know how she was going to explain herself now, and could only hope she’d get to keep her job for a while longer. If she were left to worry and wonder when her next funds would come just like poor Marlowe, she would never escape her debt. And then her beloved Brassburgh would swallow her whole.

Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "CARRY"! Here's mine, from Impavidus: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
one of my favourite moments from gunpowder messenger 💌⚙️ lunacea's "rogue ear" | #princeprosetag #booksky |
When she returned, Marlowe was up and preparing mugs of water for himself and a groaning Lunacea. Her blanket hung over her like a tent, and she’d fully wrapped her cloak around her as well. Hessian didn’t find it quite as chilly now after having spent some time warming up by the Galecarver, so she stepped over to drape another layer onto Lunacea’s shoulders with a smile. Lunacea looked up with a grin of her own, and Hessian had to snort at the state of her. One of her ears was perked as normal, while the other was flopped backwards, exposing the pink inside. “Everything okay with the ship?” Lunacea asked, completely oblivious as she reached out for the water Marlowe was handing her. His and Hessian’s eyes met for a brief second, and the both of them stifled another laugh. “Yup,” Hessian replied innocently. “Is everything… okay with you?” “Oh, I’m just used to warmer climes,” Lunacea sighed. She raised the mug to her lips, and when she glanced up again she seemed to catch on that something was amiss. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?” “It’s just… You’ve got a… There’s a situation with your…” Hessian stuttered, pointing towards her own ears to better illustrate her point. Lunacea followed her movement with her own hands and chuckled sheepishly when she found it, folding her rogue ear forward.
“Oh, thanks. This one’s a little lazy in the mornings.” “That makes no sense,” Marlowe remarked as he filled a mug for Hessian from a canister. “Sure it does! My ears fall asleep sometimes, like when you get pins and needles in your legs.” “That has never happened to me.” “Yeah, well, your experience isn’t universal, cotton boy. My ears like to sleep.” “Were they also asleep when I told you my name?” Hessian giggled into her mug, pleased that the banter was playful again. Their little sleepover at the cottage had only been a short while ago, and yet she’d sorely missed it after all the fighting. “You guys seem real friendly all of a sudden,” she said pointedly, her lips curled into a devious smile even as she tried to suppress it. “I told you I’d try to apologize,” Marlowe muttered, his face indignant but the flush to his cheeks unmistakable. “Oh, he certainly tried,” Lunacea snickered. “It was so cute, you should’ve seen it.” She swiftly shot her hand out mid laughter to catch the orange Marlowe threw at her, his eyes deadpan as he regarded them both. “Don’t make me regret it.”
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
5 months ago
"fare" from gunpowder messenger! hessian's thinking about mcgyvering her broken airship | #princeprosetag #steampunk #snippetshare #booksky |
Hessian tossed the rag aside with a sigh. She’d done her best to clean what she could within the hatch, but there was no telling how their next flight would fare. She was determined to pay better attention to how much she was pushing the craft next time, but the weight problem was unavoidable. They’d have to make do with the bent leg as well, as there was no saving it without proper tools. Hessian had run through a few possibilities, including counterweights and a temporary replacement to prop the ship before takeoff. Even if they had to tie a rock to the leg to keep her steady, it would be better than nothing, but ideally they’d be able to land with it too. She wiped the sweat from her brow, wincing as it smeared dirt across her forehead. Now that she was winding down from all the work, she could feel the bite in the air as the cold of night began to seep in. She looked to the camp, the sound of the crackling wood a comforting reprieve. Although she enjoyed the chill soothing her burning aches, she thought she’d enjoy some company far more, and returned to sit by the fire.

Alright I have at least mild interest so let's do this Quote or comment with any snippet featuring the word "FARE"! Here's mine, from Birthright: [ #SnippetShare #writingcommunity #booksky #writing 💙📚 ]

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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
7 months ago
here's "red" from gunpowder messenger! i have some more intense moments with it but i've already shared those so here's a lighter one! | #princeprosetag #snippetshare #booksky |
“I’m a courier.” Fiery eyes locked onto her in surprise. Hang on. Hessian tightly pressed her lips together, as if this could stuff her words back inside. Why did I say that? What the heck am I saying? The smile that graced Lunacea’s elegant lips was somewhat incredulous–but it shone with hope. She stood, and her shadow fell like a blanket over Hessian as she leaned over to search her face. Hessian had to crane her neck to meet her, and immediately started tugging away at her braids. “You’d better not be pulling my leg. You serious? A little thing like you?” Unease pricked at her skin. She didn’t have the right to feel insulted after blurting out such a blatant lie. But she was sick of being so small in the eyes of the world. “I’m not a kid,” she muttered. “I’m twenty years old.” Lunacea snorted, and before Hessian could react she had slung an arm over her shoulder. “About the same as me, then! Sorry, but to most adults that still makes us kids.” The unabashed, sudden contact made Hessian’s head spin. She didn’t know if she wanted to push her away or lean into it; she didn’t know what she was expected to do. Were everyone from the Citadel so touchy? It turned her insides into a blob of self-conscious mush, and she feared she was sweating all over Lunacea’s clothes. “So what are you, some kinda private delivery gal?” “Uhh… S-something like… I’m kind of… I’m a–” Hessian flushed bright red, her tongue useless and fat in her mouth. Something about an effortlessly stunning lady like Lunacea clocking her correctly as a woman sent a titter through her body. But as welcome as the attention was, in the far recesses of her mind she could still feel the cold sting of a bony hand clutching at her veins. What have you got? A strangled breath escaped Hessian’s aching throat. “Could you please let go of me?” she asked, her voice tiny.

#WritingCommunity #Snippetshare Quote or reply to share any snippet with the word "red" Please warn if your snippet features any kind of extreme violence. Mine does not. I choose a very tame snippet for this 1.

His wife looked up at him– Oh those hazel eyes, that reddish hair, dark in the dim indoor lighting. She would always be beautiful, tired and weary, or worried and aging, she would always be beautiful– sunshine lighting her hair up brilliant red and making her smile shine and her eyes glow with color, or deep shadow obscuring her features and making her seem strangely ancient and young at once– he would always love her. “No, he really shouldn't have,” she said, and Aisferk almost admired the simpleness of her words. “Love you. Gods permit I and Lawcket will be home soon,” he said turning to go. “Good luck,” she called softly as he left through the door.
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
7 months ago
yes i did in fact put an oogway quote into my book | #princeprosetag #snippetshare #booksky |
Hessian decided to find out, and turned toward the voices. The silhouettes of her parents were projected onto the curtain by gentle candlelight, as if the past had sprung to life. Doubting her vision, she squeezed a breath down her throat and focused. But the image didn’t dissolve like some illusion; they were really there. Her dad was right there! She clambered down and tried to break into a run, determined to reach her father, the vestige of his presence so close she thought she could reach out and touch it. But her limbs were useless, the floor like a bed of molasses. Try as she might, she could not cross the precipice. All she could do was remain on the other side, listening uselessly. Her father reached out a hand, letting it graze Lea’s arm. His affection came with such ease, it made Hessian’s heart cave in on itself to remember it. “There is no other way for us to live,” said Sage. “Not anymore. Why can’t you see that the more we take, the less we have?” “And now we have nothing.” Lea spoke the words like they were poison upon her tongue. Hessian knew that tone so well, she scarcely felt it.
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
7 months ago
lunacea defends the split second decision that horrified them all. here's "suspect" from gunpowder messenger! | #princeprosetag #snippetshare #booksky |
Lunacea threw him a barbed look. “I was certain he was about to steal the ship,” she retorted. Even Hessian was struggling to wrap her head around that. She really killed a man on a hunch? She sighed, trying to word it in a way that wouldn’t escalate the tension. “Don’t you think that maybe… he was just about to perform the maintenance flight?” “Then why would he lie about it?” Lunacea countered, resolute. “I-I don’t know. He could just as easily have claimed it was a test run even if he was planning on stealing her. Maybe he was just being secretive.” There was pleading in Lunacea’s eyes as she leaned forward and gripped Hessian’s gaze with hers. “Haven’t you wondered why he set you up to begin with? Why did he go to all that trouble of waiting for you, then taking the ship out to make it look like you’d done it? If it suddenly disappeared later–even with him gone–who do you think would be the first suspect? With you barred from the place, you’d be conveniently absent. They could even blame his disappearance on a revenge plot.” The still fresh events of her dismissal stung deep as they reemerged. Hessian had gone over every word spoken and every look given like they were reason enough to hate her. She’d resigned herself to believing Pelle had set her up because he wanted her gone, and hadn’t at all considered there could be more to it. She hesitated now, as Lunacea’s theory began to make sense. While Hessian pondered, Lunacea turned her attention to Marlowe. “You made it clear enough that we needed to leave today. If we were waiting until nightfall, should I have risked that guy making off with the ship?”

#WritingCommunity #Snippetshare Quote or reply to share any snippet with the word "suspect" I didn't have a whole lot to choose from, & I'm honestly not sure the sentence with the word is done right here, but it's still my favorite of the options in Lawcket's WIP.

Trest smiled. “That is where my secrets come into play. I don't want to scare you, but I have guesses about you. I would rather though that I could keep a few words only for your ears. The bravery to share my secret with a stranger is hard enough.” Lawcket felt like he was being baited, toyed with, not necessarily in the worst of ways, but it still scared him a little. “Looccup,” he thought for comfort and assurance, though he didn't suspect her to respond to him, or even feel his thoughts as anything more than perhaps a flicker in her mind.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
sting, from gunpowder messenger #princeprosetag #snippetshare
“The truth is, I was going to ask you to get me in with Charlotte Roa,” Marlowe continued, his ivory brows set deep. Like his hair, they cut a sharp contrast against his warm brown skin. “And then the plan was to get someone to pilot a ship and take me across the wastes.” “How were you going to convince them to take you?” Hessian asked, scrunching her nose up in disbelief. “Whatever way works; I can’t know until I meet my adversary. Sometimes it’s flattery, sometimes… threats. Sometimes I make up the most elaborate bullshit known to man and sometimes I wing it.” “You would have threatened someone to pilot?” Marlowe’s eyes whipped towards her with a look forged in ice and steel. “Depends how desperate I am.” It almost chilled her blood; Hessian never knew her friend had so many tricks up his sleeve. Part of her still admired him greatly for how hard he fought to stay afloat, but the part of her poisoned by the sting of deception could only wonder if she was just going to be another sucker at the end of the day.

#Snippetshare Quote or reply to share any snippet featuring the word "sting" (I know I've shared this snippet sometime recently.) He bit his lip against the tears, though he almost welcomed the sting of sorrow. In a way it was a sting of sweetness and home. . . .

He bit his lip against the tears, though he almost welcomed the sting of sorrow. In a way it was a sting of sweetness and home. *You are everything I am,* he thought, his heart aching with need for his beloved dragon. *I'll die with you. I can't ever be separated from you.* Enough of who he was was cut out of him from losing his family. Losing Looccup would make him not even him. *I was before we knew each other, but I will never be without you.*
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♔Prince ✨ Writing Book ✒️
@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
aloud, from gunpowder messenger! dw about the scream 😇 #princeprosetag #snippetshare
Hessian frowned. Why would she clam up now? “Please! I just want to know what’s going on. If you know anything…” “Don’t,” Charlotte stopped her. “I won’t say any more, and that’s final.” “What?” Hessian sputtered, heat rising to her cheeks at the sudden blockade. “Why? If you’re trying to p-protect me or something, leaving me in the dark is not gonna help!” “It’s nothing like that.” “Then why? You can’t just drop a bomb like that on me and then–” “I promised your dad. He was a smart man, and he didn’t want you to know. So I won’t tell. That’s the one thing I won’t blab about.” What was all this? Even her father was keeping things from her now, from beyond the grave? Hessian wiped at her tears and her fatigue, so exhausted from being blindsided and denied. She was tired of being confused; of being frustrated; of being sad. She wished that for once, something could just be easy. But her father had told her that anything worth doing was difficult. And even now, as much as she wanted to be furious with him, she’d rather cling to his words. He was the one person she could always trust, and she had to trust that the subterfuge was in her best interests. The rising emotions then deflated as quickly as they’d ignited, leaving Hessian to heave a long sigh of reluctant acceptance. “So there’s something about my mom that he wanted to keep a secret,” she thought aloud, mostly to herself. “And now that she’s gone, you think it’s got to do with that.” “I can say that much, yes,” Charlotte confirmed. “And trust me, it’s better not to get involved. Just keep your head down, go to work, and make sure you have food in your belly and a future to look to.” Hessian gave her a dimpled smile, which was returned. “I will,” she said. Then a deafening scream rang from the hangar.

#Snippetshare Because of my typo of "allowed" instead of "aloud" last time, this time I'm using "aloud" as the word. Quote or reply to share a snippet featuring "aloud" or "out loud" or really any synonym. I've never shared this scene before.🥲

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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
replace, from gunpowder messenger! 💌⚙️ #princeprosetag #snippetshare
Betraying her courage, Hessian’s voice wavered as she looked upon the words her father never got to see. Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered since people from the slums hadn’t the means to leave Brassburgh. She’d quickly forgotten about her dream a long time ago. Not to even mention 100 quartz was only impressive if you were ten. She found herself quietly running her thumb over the crossed-out name. Another relic of her past that she’d forgotten about. She’d taken the name Hessian a year after writing this, yet she still knew back then that there was something about herself she’d wanted to erase. And so she’d scratched it out before handing it to her father, not yet knowing what to replace it with, just as she crossed out all her other mistakes. Hessian huffed at herself, but smiled warmly nonetheless. It was little wonder she’d ended up changing her mind and deciding to rewrite it. Even back then, little Hessian had her own back just like her father would have wanted. “Okay. Enough moping,” she said resolutely before tucking the letter into the same pocket at her waist. She’d sewn a yellow envelope image onto it when she first found this vest, and it felt especially bittersweet now. “Enough moping!” she repeated, louder, waiting for the echo to die out before shouting once more. Then with a deep breath that filled her lungs with mountain air and the scent of oil and steam and scrap and dirt and moles, Hessian reached her arms to the sky and dispelled her sadness with a yell so boundless she was sure it would make her father bounce with laughter if he could hear it up there in the sun.

#Snippetshare Quote or reply to post any snippet featuring the word "replace" I know I've shared part of this before, & I feel kind of bad sharing sad snippets so often.

“The best of people are heartless. That's what happened. “I tried, but trying isn't enough. That's what happened.” “Lawcket's dead?” Mesellah said, her voice a quaking trembling breath. “Probably as good as dead,” Aisferk answered bitterly, the anger suddenly draining from his voice to be replaced with defeat.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
local woman wonders if it's okay to want love #princeprosetag #snippetshare #indieauthor
A sinking feeling stunned Hessian into silence. The revelation should have made her the happiest she’s ever been; after all, she’d never really had any female friends. She’d never had friends like her either, who’d been born different. Friends. I think that’s all we could ever be, huh? She smiled, despite herself. “Mhm!” she said, fearing any more would make her stutter. Just days ago she wouldn’t have even dreamed of a friend like Lunacea. She hadn’t the right to suddenly ask the world for more. What was she doing, making eyes at the only friends she had, just because she felt alone? Did she even like them at all, or would she cling to just about anyone who showed her a modicum of affection? Make the best of it. Lunacea’s words echoed in her mind. She repeated them within, slowly, searching for the joy she should be feeling right now. And it was there, somewhere. It was always there, but hesitant, like prey fearing a predator. Curled up in its lonely burrow, her happiness would wait until it was safe to come out. She didn’t know when that would be.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
hessian gets to show off her field of expertise. but she still doesn't feel good enough 💔 #princeprosetag #snippetshare #steampunk #indieauthor
“How’s it look?” Lunacea asked carefully behind her while she worked. Hessian frowned. “I thought it might have been the fuel, since she was taken out the other day when she wasn’t supposed to. But they must have refueled.” She laid down to duck underneath, clicking open a hatch revealing the steam turbine. They hadn’t overheated, this much she’d remembered to check. But from what she was seeing inside, it would only have been a matter of time. “It’s a rotor failure,” she mumbled. “What?” Hessian poked her head back out. “A rotor failure. Lots of things can cause stress to the rotor, but if operated as designed it shouldn’t cause a problem. There could also be erosion, corrosion, overheating or structural damage. But we didn’t take any damage that deep and this ship is brand new.” “What about the guts?” Marlowe piped in. “Aren’t all the machine parts in Brassburgh old?” The hatch slammed shut and Hessian crawled back out. Now that they were out of the craft, she noticed how Marlowe and Lunacea were keeping a pretty broad distance from each other. It must have been rather claustrophobic for them, Hessian supposed.
“Not at the Spruce. Parts weren’t scavenged at home, they were shipped to us. They’d never allow us to sell to major businesses with second hand scrap.” “Then were you sent faulty parts?” Lunacea asked. “Unlikely. Charlotte would have noticed it immediately.” “So… Is it fixable?” Hessian sighed and turned her attention back to the Galecarver. She looked so sad, leaning up against the wall like that. “It’s really a problem you prevent. You’re not supposed to exceed the maximum speed or weight limits, or it could stress the rotor.” “We didn’t really have a choice,” Marlowe sighed. “It’s not your fault. Could’ve even been the guy that took her out before you.” It was nice to hear him stand up for her, but Hessian could only shake her head. She smiled mirthlessly, regarding her beloved Galecarver with regret and pain in her eyes. “Pelle knew what he was doing, far more so than me. I pushed her too hard.” “It saved our lives,” Lunacea stressed, her voice firm. “You were amazing.” Their kind words bounced off of her like a mere breath on a mountain. She knew they were right, but so was she. It was her fault, whether purposely or not. And now it was her duty to fix it. “I can clean the rotor,” she said. “If I removed it I could clean the interior, but that won’t happen without tools. We don’t really have any lubricant either, but as long as I keep an eye on her next time we should… w-we should be okay.” Hessian was the only one among them who understood anything about aircrafts, and so her words instilled the others with confidence and assured them to leave it all to her. She was left hoping her stutters wouldn’t reveal how useless she truly felt.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
a lot of text this time, but here's a recent action scene from gunpowder messenger i'm quite proud of as someone not very proficient in writing it #princeprosetag #snippetshare #indieauthor
“I have to land her!” she shouted. “Where? There’s nothing but jagged cliffs!” Lunacea yelled back. Like she said, there weren’t many flat surfaces available to them. But the Galecarver was a dextrous build, and much less clunkier than a commercial aircraft. She didn’t need a long strip to slow her descent. Hessian had to trust she could land safely in this terrain, but could she trust in her own precision? She wasn’t really a pilot. She wasn’t really anything. But she had to be. Right now, she had to be someone who could get her friends out of there alive. As the winds tore through her hair and clothes, Hessian shut her eyes and listened. The barrage showed no signs of letting up, and even if they landed right then and there they still ran the risk of ending up in the crossfire. They had to get further out. Then the breeze quickened on her skin. Hessian felt the surge in the air signaling the next oncoming wave, and in that moment she knew what to do. “Brace!” She spun the wheel with a determined flourish, giving the ship a sharp turn. The Silfani pair cried out in surprise at the sudden shift, but mercifully held on. The very second they hit ninety degrees, Hessian used both her arms and her knee to knock the helm still, steadying them for just a moment before the wave rushed the stern and propelled the Galecarver forward. Rather than upending them, it gave them just the boost they needed to create more distance between them and the blasts. Hessian used the opportunity to gain more air, her goggled eyes scanning the horizon for safe haven. Anything that would allow the legs enough grip and space for her wingspan would do. She bit her lip. One such spot was visible to her, but it was surrounded by a virtual ribcage of rock. She could have them glide into the canyon and approach from below, but a single wrong move would send them crashing into the walls. Desperately, she searched and searched but found only sharp drops and uneven cliffs. …
Once inside, she threw herself back and pulled, slamming into her seat as she brought her full weight down. Clumsily–but sufficiently–it righted the craft before they would’ve plummeted into the earth. The ship bounded upward. Hessian exhaled slowly as the wings narrowly sliced the overhang, but now that they were mostly level she could adjust their elevation to fit the gap. If she’d known more about piloting she could have flown with the gentle accuracy the Galecarver deserved, but if she’d known a little less… they would have all been dead. The shadows of the sharp ribs above flashed by rapidly over their heads, making the sheer velocity they were traveling at truly apparent now. But Hessian kept her eyes firmly trained on her flight path, trusting in her knowledge of the Galecarver’s wingspan in between the sand-beaten walls. Hewn by wind and time like the rest of the wastes, the canyon hollowed out beneath them. The ground was smoother than expected; she’d thought there would be a multitude of uneven rocks to zigzag through. But the majority of the outcrops hovered above, and so Hessian dared to guide them lower, where the cliff face widened out. She was awestruck at its shape–could nature alone really create such a perfect eggshell texture? This would be the perfect spot to take her down, but they were still going at considerable speed–she hadn’t accounted for the significant increase after the dive. She felt a sting as she bit down too hard, soaked through with sweat yet cold with fear. The deceleration had to happen gradually–not too fast, not too slow–but the open space was narrowing and the walls were curving inward. Hessian forgot to blink as concentration set her whole body taut, ready at any moment to bring them to an immediate halt. Then the Galecarver stumbled, and Hessian cried out in fright as the recoil threw her against the dashboard. She pulled them up as quickly as she could, groaning and cursing at her mistake. In their haste t…

#Snippetshare This time we're not using a word, but just anything from your story that you're written, edited, or just read, recently. Quote or reply to share. WARNING: Mine features a mother fearing violent harm coming to her child. There is no real danger, but it's still sad.

Mesellah sat on the floor, feeling cold and shaken, as she watched Lawcket leave the house, breaking into a light run in spite of limping slightly on his bloodied leg. She still didn't know what happened to him. When her child vanished from her vision, she reached up to pull the door closed, only then realizing how violently her arm was shaking. The part of her that wanted to see everything Lawcket did was overcome by her fear that she would not be able to bear seeing her child so near the monster out there, the dragon, and her even deeper fear that she wouldn't be able to bear seeing him leave, and knowing she could have stopped it.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
8 months ago
a lighter moment we all need in between the angst. kitchen, from gundpowder messenger! #princeprosetag #snippetshare #indieauthor
“It’s not much on such short notice. I don’t usually cook, and I don’t have a fridge unit.” “I would eat just about anything right now,” Hessian sighed. “I don’t think I’ve had jelly in years.” “Yeah, well, it keeps surprisingly well up there. Knock yourself out.” Lunacea didn’t seem too fussed about his selection either, but she did pick up a slice of cheese and give it a doubtful sniff. “And how well is this keeping without a fridge?” Marlowe shoved some bread into her hands and pushed it towards her with a challenging grin. “That’ll be a surprise,” he sneered before grabbing the tray along with some water from the sink and bringing it over to the spot on the floor the girls had claimed. “Feel free to grab anything else you want; there should be enough ingredients for something simple if any of you want to set my kitchen on fire.” Hessian was so focused on finally getting some food in her that she was content just to sit back down, but Lunacea remained by the counter. There was mischief in her eyes as she followed the others with her piercing gaze, and for a moment Hessian could tangibly feel the charge between the two Silfani. She’d noticed their earlier banter, of course, but had chalked it up to them not knowing each other yet. But as she plopped down on the rug with a handful of dates in her mouth, she looked between them with tentative interest. She wondered if this spark was something she ought to be concerned about, but the air in the room felt jovial. “Have a little faith,” Lunacea said with a crack of her neck. “In fact, I may just take you up on the offer.” “Of burning my cottage to the ground?” “Cooking, cotton tail.” Marlowe coughed violently, almost choking on his water. “Cotton tail!?” he echoed. Hessian pretended to be wholly immersed in spreading jelly over her piece of bread. “There’s enough to maybe make a decent soup,” Lunacea continued, completely ignoring the incensed Marlowe. “And don’t worry, I’ll make eno…

#Snippetshare Quote or reply to share any snippet featuring the word "kitchen" I didn't think this word showed up in Lawcket's story, but apparently it does. I think I've shared this somewhere before. WARNING: may be considered dark, & features young children.

Lawcket traced the ropes to the knots, trying to understand them, and trying not curse his lack of skill. It made him angry that they had tied a child so– a little child barely more than a baby. At last he said out loud, “Do you guys have a knife anywhere around here, because I'm not going to be able to do this for all of you in any reasonable amount of time without one?” “In a drawer in the kitchen,” the mother said, “but don't cut her.” Lawcket took both children, one at a time, and laid them by their bound mother, then ran into the house in search of the knife.
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@prlnce.bsky.social
9 months ago
i couldn't choose, so i picked two separate moments! here's "important" from gunpowder messenger 💌 #princeprosetag #snippetshare #indieauthor
For most of her early childhood, Hessian had been fortunate enough to go to school. Through her teens she’d taken on odd jobs for meager scraps, but it had been enough to keep her and her mother housed. But when the consequences of Lea’s irresponsible actions came crashing down and their debts increased, a full time job was her only choice. Hessian thought of the teenage boy at the Spruce. She thought back to how excited she’d been to work with someone younger; someone less jaded, perhaps. A part of her had been vibrating at the chance of guiding a starry-eyed child like her father did before her. But not only was he paid more than her, he was also far more experienced–and very precocious. He had seemed so comfortable with doling out ridicule and disdain. Had he floated through his life parroting what everyone else did, just so he wouldn’t be singled out like Hessian? It was sad. I’m sorry, dad… I really tried, but I can’t love Brassburgh the way you did. I only love the Brassburgh that had you. Lost in her musings, Hessian had been following the Coil like she always did. The iron felt coarse and rusted beneath her hand, but she ran her fingertips across it regardless, until it took her to the markets. She finally looked up. The steam lamps were blinding after all that time staring at her feet, but they reminded her of something important. Somewhere beyond them was the sun that loved her. Somewhere beyond Brassburgh. A soft smile lit up her worn, round face. “Would you call me a coward if I simply left?”
“No… No, no, no, no!” She looked again and again; turning the satchel inside out; shaking it upside down; anything she could think of. But nothing she did summoned anything back into the empty pockets, and in her panic she hadn’t even noticed she’d roused the others with the sudden noise. “It’s so early,” Marlowe groaned. “Where’s the damn fire?” Hessian whipped around, the satchel clutched uselessly in her hands. The distress on her face made his ears stand on alert, and he stopped untangling his hair with a frown. Next to him Lunacea was rubbing her eyes in sleepy confusion. “What’s wrong, Hessian?” she asked groggily. “It’s gone! M-my–my dad’s–” “Slow down, Hess,” Marlowe interjected. “Breathe.” As riled up as she was, her attempt at following his advice only made Hessian more breathless, and she slumped onto the floor with a whimper. Lunacea emerged from the blankets then but came to an abrupt stop in front of Hessian, her arms outstretched as if to bring her into a big hug before remembering not to crowd her. Awkwardly, she withdrew her arms and instead opted for a gentle smile. “It’s okay,” said Lunacea. “You’re okay.” Hessian could only shake her head, shame and guilt coiling into a big, disgusting soup in her gut. “My stamp… I left it at home. How could I be so stupid? I’ve kept it with me all this time!” Her eyes were downcast, and so she couldn’t see the others’ reactions. But judging by the silence, they were struggling to understand. No one would understand, even if she told them. Hessian looked up then, defiance and conviction lighting up her gaze. “It’s important to me,” she stressed. “It’s the one thing I have left of him. I can’t leave without it! That’s the one thing I can’t leave behind!” Taken aback by the force of her determination, Lunacea glanced over her shoulder at Marlowe, as if searching for confirmation from someone who knew her better. He simply scowled where he sat, clearly unimpressed. “We really don’t have time to be looking for a stam…

#Snippetshare Quote or reply to share any snippet featuring the word "important" I'm busy today, so mine was chosen quickly & is a bit long & un-edited, but I will get to my un-read notifications before I read the new ones.☺️

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@prlnce.bsky.social
9 months ago
here's "return" from gunpowder messenger! pretty dialogue-focused. all the secrets are wearing on poor hessian💔 #princeprosetag #snippetshare
Her compassion was a vice on Hessian’s heart, tightening the screws with each word uttered. “I don’t think I’m graceful about it at all,” she admitted. “But thank you, Charlotte, truly.” “Don’t mention it. Now what’s this about?” “Mom didn’t come home last night.” This seemed to suckerpunch the air out of Charlotte, who sat up straighter, her brow furrowed deep and her eyes wild. “What?” “She left. I don’t know where, and I don’t know if she’ll be back.” Scratching at her scarlet buzzcut, Charlotte seemed at a loss for words. Her expression traveled somewhere Hessian couldn’t follow, and it only made her want to know more. There appeared to be something rather complicated tangled up here that she had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to be privy to. It had all the elements of a point of no return. But Hessian was already halfway there. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Charlotte squeezed out awkwardly. “That’s… odd, to say the least.” “You took over after my dad, and you always spoke fondly of him. I’ve known you were friends; it wasn’t exactly a secret. But last time we talked it seemed… It seemed like you knew my mom, too.” Her lips a thin line, Charlotte crossed her broad arms and set her gaze elsewhere. Somewhere far away. “Guess that’d be a stupid thing to hide at this point. Didn’t want to pull the wool over your eyes or anything, I just…” Her lips parted as if to say more, but only a sigh pushed through. “Just… what? Please, I need to know.” “It’s not that I don’t think you should know, Hessian.” She looked back at her now, and there was something haunted in Charlotte’s hard stare. “It just brings with it some shame on my part.” Only when it started to hurt did Hessian notice how badly she’d been twisting her braids, and she forced her hands into her lap as she tried desperately to instill patience into her anxious limbs. What could have possibly brought Charlotte such anguish? What else had Hessian’s dysfunctional family wrought?

#Snippetshare Since haven't been on here much in a while I didn't use the random word generator, but simply chose the word "return" Quote or reply to share any snippet featuring the word "return" I may be slow to reading everything, & will likely only be posting these twice a week.

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@prlnce.bsky.social
9 months ago
oh luna... what have you done? #princeprosetag #indieauthors #authors #snippetshare
And there was Lunacea, keycard in one hand, crescent wrench in the other. The edges were badly rusted, an unusual sight for the typical shape Spruce equipment was kept in. No, not rust. You know it’s not rust. As Hessian’s eyes swept across the hangar floor and back up again, she took in the oddly deafening sound of liquid dripping from the head of the wrench and onto the body sprawled below. Cemented in place, Hessian struggled to relay to her mind that this was the same spot where she’d revived her spark for life. On the same floor she’d spent hours with her beloved aircraft now lay a spark snuffed out. The dirt blond hair stained a deep red. The cracks in his spectacles. His ashen features unmoving, unknowing. And fierce canary eyes regarding him dispassionately, before rising to meet Hessian’s with a turbulence that shook her to her core. Swallowed within the depths of her tempest, it seemed an eternity stretched between them until any breath was taken.
Then a hand was on hers. The frozen image shattered into pieces as she felt herself get pulled forward, her legs like rubber bands snapping and propelling her along. She was only vaguely aware of Marlowe’s voice, raised high enough to crack, his creamy ponytail swishing with movement as he had her break into a run. The next thing she heard was Charlotte. Like the anguished roar of a wounded bear, her voice tore open the syllables of Pelle’s name. Hessian chanced a look over her shoulder, and could only watch as her aunt leapt to his side. She heard the beep of the console and the heavy whir of the bi-fold doors. But it was all so distant compared to the cries behind her. Charlotte was shaking him. Calling his name. Slapping his cheeks. He did not stir. And when he didn’t, she instead found Hessian’s eyes. There was such unbridled fear and concern in the way she looked at her; the way she reached out her hand; the way she said her name as if she was next. Only as the doors closed between them did their contact sever, and the midday air on the other side enveloped and chilled her bones.
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