Writing: Nuada, continued

    As promised in my blog challenge, a little something that's more interesting than a month long dissertation on my life. 

    It's not a lot, because I was sitting in a car and we got home, but it follows off of the confrontation in the diner, sort of, and hopefully you all remember that. If not, I'll throw in the last few paragraphs of what I last posted for Nuada.


    As she slid into the driver’s seat, the young woman felt moisture fill her eyes and knew that what she usually did when she was this upset was call Maggie.
    Her head ached as she started the old Mustang and backed out of the diner’s parking lot to find the motel even though she just wanted to drive.

    The room Nuada acquired for the night smelled strange and didn’t look all that clean, but she didn’t find any bugs or mold in her inspection, so it would suffice. She dumped her bags on the short dresser.
    Sound from her neighbors’ TV filtered through the wall and she was too tired to care. Drawing the curtains and throwing the bolt, Nuada crawled onto the bed, setting her cell phone’s alarm to go off early the next morning.
    Her head hurt as much as her chest did in the moments before sleep took her.  The young woman refused to let herself cry, though, her dark hair strewn across the white pillow case. Still in her clothes, Nuada drifted to sleep.

    Beep. Beep. Beep.
    Panic filled Nuada when the noise registered and she bolted upright, drawing in a breath as she took in the dark room, grey light just beginning to filter through the edges of the curtains. 
    She checked her cell, which had finished peeping at her. 0500. Gram’s Burgers opened in half an hour to cater to the truckers hitting the road at this hour, and Nuada planned to be there before too long.
    A tightness to her stomach reminded her that she hadn’t eaten a full meal in… Nuada settled her feet on the floor, running a hand through her mussed hair. Days, she decided. Having to spend so much time with her brother had caused her emotions to be on a constant high, and depleted her appetite to almost nothing. 
     Nuada considering going for a run as she dug through her bag for a new set of clothes, but decided against it. She didn’t want to risk an encounter with just about anyone right at the moment. 
     It took ten minutes to shower and set her hair to rights. She didn’t leave anything behind when she went out to her car, not having any plans to stay another night. 
     She settled into the front seat and checked the time again. 0525. Silvery eyes stared out the windshield as her fingers drifted to the paper tucked into the breast pocket of her lightweight jacket. 
     It’d taken hours to decipher Dad’s scrawl, and days to realize just what the short message had meant. 
     The Mustang protested as she started its engine, cutting off her own thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. She had to talk to Mr. Stafford, figure out exactly what was going on, and then somehow cut ties with her brother and friend enough that they wouldn’t hound her.
     Weariness weighed on Nuada’s shoulders as she backed out of the motel’s parking lot and got onto Main Street. The town had nothing to hold her attention; she’d been through too many in the last two weeks alone. 
     As expected, Gram’s Burgers had several large semis pulled into the sizable parking lot, but most the front row of spots were available and Nuada pulled into one on the far end. Now that she was here, the thought of food was almost nauseating, but she knew she had to eat. Especially if she wanted to put in some distance later that afternoon.
     The door creaked as she pushed it open and stepped out, dragging her messenger bag with her. The morning air was still chilly, but the sky was a mix of pink and blue with the rising sun. 
     For a couple of minutes, Nuada just stood and breathed. There wasn’t a lot that beat country air in the wee hours of the morning and she hadn’t had a lot of chances to enjoy it; not with the hours she’d been pulling to get herself and Agyros here by Mr. Stafford’s requested date.

    Not a lot, I know, and it'll be void before too long if I can stagger through NaNoWriMo (the whole series of events after the diner are going to change; drastically) but it's something.

    And now I need to either sleep or watch some TV. I haven't decided which yet. 

    Thanks for reading!

    Ad astra per aspera.

    To the stars, through difficulties.

On Life and Writing

    A) Be glad this post didn't start with "of". I'm into "of" for the starting word in titles.
    B) Shockingly enough, this post is only about writing, and not actually of writing.

    Well, hopefully it'll turn out being about writing. Depends on how my brain is doing and, judging by the massive mood-swinging that's been going on today, anything is questionable at this point.

    Anyways. This is the third week that my siblings and I have been back to school after Christmas break, but it's only the first week that Dad has implemented the two week break off movies and video games. And I am proud to admit that the only 'movie' I've watched since Tuesday (we had a four day weekend that included Monday) is Jane Eyre, which I watch to put myself to sleep. So it doesn't count as a movie so much as bed... music? Some such.

    The point of that pointlessness is that, with the lack of movies and tv shows to fill my brain and distract me with feels, I've found that my imagination has come back in force and, as such, words seem to be spilling out my fingers tips. Well, they were yesterday. The mood-swings today aren't helping me feel like writing.

    But, a general update on my various drabbles.

   Nuada and Argyros: I do want to write more for Nuada, maybe show a bit of what they actually do and just write more in general, but I don't have anything firm to go on at this point. I'm probably going to back it up a bit and try to figure out when Nuada sort of figured stuff out between herself, Argyros, and Maggie and then maybe another scrawl with some foreshadowing of... stuff... that I've been considering putting in there. Plot twists can be so much fun, you know? You can also expect to see a fair deal more of Carson; there's a little bit of stuff with him and Nuada that's important-ish. Man, that's a lot of... what are they called? Qualifiers? Anyways. I'm churning over this, but it could take some time before something crops up.

    Marks and Kelsey: Now, with these two, I actually do have a next section in my head that's been there for a while now. I just have to, well, write it and I've been caught up in other things over the past few days. Hopefully, the urge with strike me soon and I can scrawl it all out without it turning out to be too crappy. We'll see how it goes, yes?

   Jaz: Not Jaq, mind you. Very different characters with very similar names and not to be mistaken for each other. I realize that I've just sprung Jaz on you all recently and that you're probably not attached to her at all (and maybe never will be) but my interest in her has been renewed, so expect to see more of her in the coming days/weeks. (I never know how long my interest will last.) At the moment, I'm editing through my initial, introductory bit that I wrote for Jaz a long, long time ago. It shouldn't take much longer, and I would've finished last night, but staying up until 1:30 with an 0700 wake-up call for Ortho... Yeah, not cool. Beyond that, I'll probably fiddle with the original storyline I had for Jaz' mission, editing my bits for that and then writing more as it comes. Expect a lot of jumping around when her bits crop up eventually.

   Garrett and Breen: Again, I don't know how attached you all are to these two, but they've always been, hm, important to me, I guess. I'm not sure how to explain it. But, they've been on my mind as well of late, and I have written some for them in the past couple of days that I'm going back and forth between posting, though not because it's violent/mushy. Just... I don't know, personal? As I said in one of my recent posts, there are some ideas that I find very important to me, but don't like to share because I don't know if other people will take them the wrong way. Knowing me, though, I will likely end up posting what I've got before too long and maintain a "don't like it, don't read it" majooger.

    Sean and Lindsey: I got a rather positive response to these two and wouldn't mind doing more, if I had more to write. I've only got a rather small blurb in my head right now, but beyond that, it's all up in the air. They're relatively foreign characters to me, and I don't know what path I want the story to take. Revenge mission? Skip a couple of years and have the two meet up again? Or maybe the people who took out her parents will come back for her, who knows? That's what I mean by "up in the air". Haven't got a clue what to do with it, and, with every other idea I've got running through my head, it will probably fall down the ladder of priority very quickly.

   (Aha! Stroke of genius! My cousin and I have a running joke between us about him wanting me to put camels into my first novel [no, you may not read it. It's very raw and needs editing.] and I've just now stumbled across something to tease him with in return. His alias is Dana MacDonald [those who read Penny Kearney's blog will recognize that] and what familiar children's song has a MacDonald in it? "Old MacDonald had a farm, e-i-e-i-o." I shall ask him if he plans on starting that farm soon next time we should speak. Bwaha.)

    Sorry, that was really random, but maybe it amused you?

    Misc:
      Lorelei and Gil - Mostly done, I'd say. There haven't been stirrings from their direction in a while now and, while I like the idea, I have others that I enjoy more.
      Ianthe and Isra - If I can ever get my brain to cooperate when it comes to this idea, I would very much enjoy writing it. The idea has always been one of those that I've clung to for quite some time and I really like the characters, so, maybe sometime in the next few weeks I'll figure out a style to write it in and sit down to weave some words together.
      Tatsuo and Shard - Not sure how that blip went over, but again, I enjoy the characters enough that you may or may not be seeing more of them in the near/far future. Depends on if the mood strikes me.

    Now I can't decide if I've forgotten anything... That seems like most of it, at least for the time being.

     If you've got questions about anything, please don't hesitate to let me know and I shall do my utmost best to answer them. And if you have any requests, I'm open to receiving them but I can make no promises about being able to fulfill them.

   (Hm. Did I ever post that one bit about the girl and the dragon? Let me check. Huh, I don't believe I did. I'll add that to my mental queue and see about getting to it before long.)

    Right, then. That shall be all.

    Stay awesome, drink some tea, and thank you so very much for reading my writing. It makes me very happy.

    Ad astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulties.

Writing: Nuada and Argyros

    Would you look at that? I actually have something else to post for Nuada. Actually, technically speaking, I have had more to post, but until now, it hasn't been very much.

    I sat down this afternoon to work on the bit that follows directly after the section I posted earlier this month. Be warned that it's a bit choppy; my groove is off when it comes to writing anything of length or quality.


     The diner they’d been instructed to meet Mr. Stafford in was run-down and not a name brand chain restaurant, meaning it was likely a family owned business. Nuada had seen worse in the past several weeks of her life though, and parked the car alongside an old pickup that seemed familiar to her.
    The silence in their vehicle was deafening once the radio was turned off along with the engine, and Argyros was the first to break it, as he had so often in the past few days.
    “Stafford said to meet him here?”
    Nuada didn’t afford him a glance as she twisted around to grab her messenger back from the back seat. It held most of her dad’s information along with her own findings over the years. “Yes. Gram’s Burgers, Alcair, Indiana.”
    He shrugged in her peripherals and got out of the car, stretching to try and remove the kinks from his tall frame.
    Getting out herself, Nuada could feel the ever present aches making themselves known as she stood up, but she resisted the urge to stretch as well. Instead, she locked the car and slid the keys into her pocket.
    Taking in the red Ford pickup once again, she identified it as Mr. Stafford’s 1989 F150 Ford. Also known as his pride and joy. Nuada held memories of that green truck from when she was just a child.
    Turning her attention to the diner, she led the way up the steps and in the front door. Argyros came behind and frowned at the smell that greeted them once inside.
    “It smells like grease...” He said under his breath, and this time Nuada’s gaze flicked his direction for a moment.
    After she pressed down the comeback that came to mind, she quickly located Mr. Stafford at a table with several other people, most of which she had no memories of.
    One was Harold Johnson, who she knew to be a good friend of Mr. Stafford, but Nuada’s gut twisted when she realized who it was sitting with her back to the room.
    Stafford noticed them in the relative emptiness of the restaurant and rose.
    “Nuada, it’s great to see you.” He said by way of greeting, and she shook his hand, almost numb with shock.
    Maggie. What’s going on here?
    “It’s been a while, Argyros,” the older man continued, sincere but it was clear he was relieved to see the two of them. “We were beginning to wonder if you guys had gotten the wrong diner.”
    Nuada forced her mind back to the present, straightening her shoulders, and her chin rose from its lowered position. Ten people at the table, a mixture of men and women, Maggie and Mr. Stafford not included. Maggie still hadn’t turned around to face them and somehow, Nuada wasn’t surprised.
    I wouldn’t be feeling too chatty at this point either.
    She wasn’t an idiot though. Nuada had a good understanding of her feelings and knew that anger was kindling inside of her along with the sharp sting of betrayal.
    “I’d love an explanation,” the young woman said after a moment, not bothering to even attempt at pleasantries. “First of all, to the purpose of this meeting, and second, Maggie Titus, what in the world are you doing here?”
    Argyros touched her shoulder and she could see that he was winding up for a calming speech already. She wasn’t wrong.
    “Nuada, there’s a lot to talk about that you don’t know, alright? We need to talk about Dad, what killed him, why it killed him, and—how Maggie is involved in all of this.”
    She tightened her jaw and addressed her friend. “Are you going to stand up and look at me, Maggie? Because sitting there is not going to change the fact that you lied to me.”
    “Have a seat, both of you,” Mr. Stafford said, warning in his tone that Nuada ignored along with his request.
    She was tired. She was sore. She hadn’t eaten much since the day prior, and she had no idea what was going on. Why was Maggie here? What was her purpose? Had she known all along—
    “You knew where he was, didn’t you?” Nuada said, even as her best friend for a decade turned in her seat to meet her gaze. “All that time. And you were keeping in touch, weren’t you?” She looked to her brother. “Which means that you knew as well.”
    The answer was in both of their eyes and it was a blow that Nuada had wished wouldn’t come.
    Her laugh was bitter as she rubbed her forehead before she face Maggie again, her throat tight.
    “You know what, Maggie? I actually thought for a long while that maybe, just maybe, I had one person on my side. One person, and you were it, Maggie. Mom died, Argyros left, and Dad hardly noticed I was alive, but you were there,” Nuada took in a breath, determined to speak her mind. “You were there, Mags, and yet you were lying to me the entire time.”
    “Nuada, let me explain—“ the other female tried to explain, rising carefully from her seat at the full table.
    “No.” She bit out, voice hard and uncompromising even in a moment of brief unsteadiness. “No. I’m done with explanations from you. I’m done with all these lies. My life has been nothing but lies and I am done.”
    Silence reigned around the diner table’s occupants. Mr. Stafford appeared ready to intervene and Nuada forced herself to ignore the pain on Maggie’s face at her harsh words.
    Forcing her eyes away, she looked to Stafford. “I would like to get some answers, Mr. Stafford, but I want them to come from you.”
    The man nodded, his features grim and she could only imagine what he might be thinking.
    “And I want him,” the young woman jerked a thumb at her brother where he stood only a few paces away. “Out of my car. If there isn’t extra space, he can buy himself a new ride.”
    “Nuada, come on, we need to talk about this,” Agryos protested, stepping forward and she rounded on him.
    “No, you are done talking. You and her. Both of you have done your utmost best at stabbing me in the back and I refuse to spend my time second guessing everything that comes out of your mouth.” An angry fire kindled in her silvery eyes that caused him to close his mouth.
    Her hand tightened on the strap of her messenger. “What motel are you all at, Mr. Stafford?”
    “Roadside Inn, just down the street, back towards the center of town.”
    She nodded once, a sharp movement. “I’ll meet you here in the morning and we’ll talk.”
    “Alright. I’ll be here.”
    Nuada turned on her heel and began walking back towards the door. “Get your stuff out of my car, Argyros, or you won’t be seeing it again until tomorrow.”
    “Nuada—“ she heard Maggie call and she couldn’t help herself. She paused and looked back at the other woman, taking in the tears in her eyes.
    “Please come back?” Her friend asked, voice shaky. “Please? I didn’t want to hurt you, but it was better for you this way.”
    “My father is dead, Maggie. My mother is dead. My brother left. And you lied to me for years. How can you know what is good for me?” Nuada’s voice was flat and unaffected as she worked to wall up her heart against the one person she loved most in the world.
    She left to the sound of Maggie’s first sob. Argyros was silent and angry as he retrieved his gear from the front seat and trunk. Nuada refused to flinch as he slammed the door and stalked back inside.
    As she slid into the driver’s seat, the girl felt moisture fill her eyes and knew that what she usually did when she was this upset was call Maggie.
    Her head ached as she started the old Mustang and backed out of the diner’s parking lot to find the motel even though she just wanted to drive. Drive far, far away and hope that the pain would stay behind.


    I shall now be abnormal and put a note between bits. Between this blurb and the next, there is either a handful of weeks or months that occur, and during that time, something happened that caused Nuada to allow an uneasy alliance between herself and Argyros and Maggie. Granted, Maggie is not in this scribble, nor the one I'll put in after it, but just be aware that she is part of the vague acceptance that is seen between Nuada and Argyros.


       Nuada hung her coat on the back of the bathroom door, wincing as she moved her shoulder. Her boots scuffed the floor as she moved back to look in the mirror, taking in her ragged appearance... and the blackness spreading beneath her skin. It was in her veins, working its way up her neck now.
    Gritting her teeth, Nuada pulled her shirt off to check the damage near the actual wound; a sliver of a cut on the outside of her arm from the attack they’d fended off two days ago. She’d been able to stave off the effect it had on her until tonight with painkillers and caffeine, but now it was starting to hurt to move it at all, which meant driving was fast becoming an impossibility.
    It was actually kind of disturbing, the way it looked. It was dark as it crept through her blood-vessels, as if it were some twisted ivy crawling through her body. Running a hand through her hair to remove it from her eyes, Nuada contemplated what she was going to do about it.
    Then, her brother jimmied open the bathroom door.
    Nuada froze, gaze on Argyros in the mirror, and a moment later her reaction was to snatch up her shirt from the sink and hold it to her chest.
    “Get out!” She said in a contained shout, aware of both the motel’s thin walls and the determination in his gaze.
    “No. Nuada, that is Fae poisoning and if you leave it unchecked it’s going to kill you.” Argyros seemed to by trying to rein in his emotions, but she could see the anger and pain on his face.


    I think that scribble is a bit revealing as to their occupation, seeing as I haven't written anything to really explain it yet. Although the way their father died is a bit explanatory, in its own way. Basically, fantastical beings that are in our day and age. Nothing magicky, but a lot of supernatural in the way of fantasy. Dragons, Fae, shape-shifters (although only humanoid, to my knowledge) and so on and so forth.

   The next bit is a roundabout introduction of someone who becomes very important to Nuada for reasons that I have yet to nail down for certain. It's also one that I plan to continue, perhaps today if I'm in the mood. Again, this is anywhere from a few days to a month or two since Nuada had Fae poisoning. I'm really fluid when it comes to the passage of time, as I'm sure you've found out by now.


    Nuada lifted her head painfully when she heard the scuff of feet on the floor, sure that her captors had returned to continue their interrogation. She had no idea as to how much time had passed since they’d grabbed her from the front of the motel.
    The overhead light fizzled on, momentarily blinding her. Even when she did recover, the world was viewed through the slits her bruised eyes left.
    Her shoulders ached and her wrists had long since gone numb from the weight of her body straining upon them.
    “Well, you look awful,” an unfamiliar voice said, loud in the silence.
    Nuada squinted through her limited vision, trying to see the face to the voice so she could know whether help had come.
    “I’m going to get you down. Here, hook your toes in my pant pockets and push yourself upwards to get your weight off your arms, okay?”
    She let her head fall backwards, letting out a shuddering breath as the pressure of hands appeared on her waist.
    “Come on, work with me,” he coaxed and Nuada roused herself enough to do as he’d requested.
    The material of his jeans was strange against her bare feet, but Nuada was too far gone to care much about it. Her legs protested as she tightened her muscles and eased herself upwards. The result wasn’t too stable, but the relief that came to her arms and wrists made tears well in the girl’s eyes.
    “Take it easy,” the voice said, quiet and almost soothing in its gentleness. “I’ve got you.”
    She felt a hand against her skin, brushing against the palm of her hand, and then her right side was loosed from the manacles. The male grabbed her forearm and pulled it forward until it rested on his shoulder.
    “Lean on me. Keep your weight off your left wrist until I pick the lock.”
    Still unable to speak, Nuada just obeyed, straining to keep herself from going limp and dislocated her arm further.
    The click came again and she dropped, but her fall was stopped by a tight embrace around her torso, holding her upright.
    “Easy, easy,” the man said in her ear and Nuada felt her toes dragging against the ground before she was eased to the floor, the back against her wall.
    Her head was carefully leaned against the concrete and the coolness of it caused her skin to prickle. Nuada sat, boneless and limp, with no compulsion to find out who had ended her pain.
    “We’re going to have to go soon, before your jailors get back.”


    And that's the extent of my Nuada scrawls for the moment. Her story is one I keep coming back to, though, so expect to see more of it in the future, as I get the motivation to write down more. I want to attempt to put more explanations in, such as the mysterious rescuer, so I have to work out how I want those blurbs to go before I can write/post any of the stuff that I have swimming in my head.

    As usual, I truly hope that you've enjoyed this and please leave feedback should you have any to give. (Finding I have comments to moderate tends to make my day, I've found.)
    As astra per aspera.
    To the stars, through difficulties.

Writing: Kadin

    I love being able to find a spare minute to scrawl out a post real fast, especially in the madness that has been my family's Christmas season this year.

   There isn't very much to tell about the bit I'm posting. Most everything is explained in the contents of the scribble, so you should be able to figure it out without an extensive explanation about the background events. Though, I will tell you that Kadin's father used to be a fighter as well before he was injured badly in a fight that put him in a wheelchair.

   Sometime after the injury, he lost part of himself in anger and the want for vengeance, so he's driving Kadin hard to try and get back at the man who paralyzed him through her.

   Yeah, it's messy.


     Kadin knew she was off her game in the moments following her mistake. She’d flinched right when she’d caught the glinting fist aimed for her head and had pulled up her guard to catch it, leaving her left side wide open.
     A hiss of pain escaped her when the robot landed a heavy blow to her midsection, and she knew that that wouldn’t be the end of it, because the automaton was programmed to press any advantage it received, to go straight for the knock-out.
     In a way, it was far more fearsome than any human opponent was, because, while she might be able to call a timeout, until the time that she did, it would not stop.
     Gritting her teeth, Kadin took two rapid steps back to try and regain her footing before he threw it off all together, bringing her hands up into a defensive position just in time.
     The silvery fist was just beginning its descent to try and catch her underneath her guard when Kadin felt a familiar buzz in the back of her skull.
     “Timeout!” She shouted, telling herself to not feel too relieved.
     Saved by the call, the young woman mused as the robot straightened and developed what she’d titled “standby mode”, which he’d remain in until she was ready to continue their spar.
     Kadin ducked down between the ropes surrounding the square fighting ring, pushing the hair that had escaped her tight ponytail out of her eyes as the buzzing continued in her head.
     Dash, dash. Pause. Dash, dash, dash. Pause. Dash, dash.
     A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. Mom. She clicked her back teeth to pick up the call via the device embedded deep in her ear; an upgrade her father had designated necessary.
     “Hey, Mom, what’s up?” Kadin said in greeting, taking a seat on the bench near the ring and grabbing her towel.
     “Kadin! It’s so good to hear your voice,” her mother sounded relieved, as she usually did when they hadn’t been in touch since that morning.
     “It’s been maybe ten hours since we talked last, Mom,” she reminded, wiping the moisture of her brow and then glancing around for her water bottle.
     The silver exterior was beaded with condensation from the cold contents, and it felt good in Kadin’s hands.
     “I know, but I worry about you. Did you eat lunch? Actually, no, I’m focusing. I want you to come home for dinner.”
     The fighter paused mid-swig of her water, then lowered the bottle. She can’t have possibly asked Dad. There’s no way he’d approve of this. “I’m kind of busy, Mom...” Kadin said, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
     “No, you’ve said that every night for the past two weeks and I won’t take it anymore. You can tell your coaches or your friends or your sponsors that you’re having dinner with your parents tonight.” The older woman sounded far more heated than Kadin was used to, but she took it in stride.
     Her voice was quiet as she replied, “Mom, the nationals are next week, and if I don’t qualify for the worldwide—“
     If I don’t qualify, Dad will—I don’t know what he’ll do, but I don’t want to find out.
     Aloud though, she said, “It’ll be another two years before I get a shot at this if I don’t make it this round. I’ve already failed once.”
     And she could still see the bruises on her Mother’s wrists from that failure.
     “Kadin, sweetheart, you’re amazing. You know you can do it. You practice all day, every day, and if you’re not doing that, you’re talking strategies with the Barton’s. All I want is to see my baby girl at the kitchen table and getting a full meal under my supervision. Just this once, please.”
     The young woman swallowed back the emotion that threatened, looking at the walls of her boxing gym. I don’t care what he’s going to say. I have to do this for Mom. “Alright, Momma. When do you want me to come?”
     The relief on Marina Evans’ voice was clear as she said, “Whenever you finish up for the evening.”
     “Give me an hour then,” Kadin leaned back, looking up at her sparring pal who still stood in standby. “I need to finish up this round then get cleaned up.”
     Despite the unease roiling in her gut, it felt good to hear her mother’s cheer coming through the connection. The older woman closed the link after a few more moments and several good-byes.
     Kadin sat for another moment when silence fell, contemplating the wisdom in her decision. Dad wouldn’t be happy, the Barton’s wouldn’t be happy, but her Mom would be, and that was her sole wish. Keep Mom happy... and safe.
     She was just rising when the buzzing in her head came again, this time the pattern spelling out A. Barton. Great.
     “Hey,” the fighter greeted, wandering up the steps and ducking back into the ring. “I was just going to call you.”
     “Glad I beat you to it,” Antonia said with dry humor.
     Victor and Antonia Barton were some of the hand-fighting world’s most renowned coaches... and some of its greatest legends.
     They’d both fought in the ring before they got married, but it was after they did that they’d made their names known. There were singular, duo, and tri fights. Kadin specialized in singular, much like her father had. The Barton’s were “Dryads”, two fighters who went up against other two-member teams.
     That, however, hadn’t been where their success came from. It was when they qualified for two-on-three fights that the news had exploded with news of them and sponsors had been lining up to help them.
     The Barton’s had taken on the world-reigning Triad team, almost seven years ago now. It had been them against three of the best men the globe had to offer.
      And they’d won.
     “What can I help you with?” Kadin asked, perching on the ropes and eyeing her sparring automaton critically. Was that some wear and tear on his left leg?
     “It was about tonight’s meeting. Our reservation got thrown out the window by some bigwig who apparently outranks a couple of hand-fighting coaches, so Vic suggested I actually call and ask if you had a place you’d rather eat at,” her female coach said, sounding quite intent to get this all figured out.
     They’d only been her instructors for the past year, a relatively short time in the fighting world, but her father had had a specific goal in mind when he’d hired them as her trainers. Along with ranking at the top of the singular, mixed fights, he expected her to dominate in the two on one matches as well. The Barton’s purpose in her life was to teach her how to fight when she was outnumbered.
     “I actually can’t make it tonight, Antonia. Something came up just a couple of minutes ago and I’m busy. We’ll have to try for breakfast or something tomorrow.”
     There was a long silence and then the woman drew out, “I... see. You realize the nationals are in a week, Kadin?”


   This bit was the perfect example of how most my bits work. I got halfway through the next sentence and then didn't ever write anything else for it. Aherm.

   I hope you liked this small scrawl and thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave feedback, should you have any to give. I'd love to hear it.

   On another note, I might be posting more of Nuada sometime, if I can get together my brain to write something more substantial. She's been very active in my head, and I'd really like to flesh out the rest of the characters, so. Be on the look out for that, and otherwise I'll probably have some other scribbles... sometime. We shall see.

   Ad astra per aspera.
   To the stars, through difficulties.

Writing: Nuada and a Strange Twist

    I know, I know, lamest title ever, but I'm not sure how else to describe the things that happen around my character Nuada, who has only be revamped multiple times.

   This recent rendition is my favorite, though I wouldn't be surprised if she's got a bit too much of a sharp tongue and hostile attitude for most people's preference.

    Also a WARNING: There is a bit of blood and gore in the first five hundred words and then there are mentions of it throughout the entire section, just in case you have a squeamish stomach about that sort of stuff. Nuada lives on Earth in the modern day, but the world she lives in is a violent one, as made evident by her opening moments.

   Other notes: Argyros is Nuada's older brother, who left her and their father five to seven years prior to these events to strike out on his own. Maggie is Nuada's closest (and only) friend who used to live nearby but moved around when Argyros left. Most other characters are very minor and can probably be figured out without a memo from me.

   So, watch the violence and maybe enjoy the read.

    His corpse laid in his strewn paperwork, staining those things which he’d been so protective of red with blood.
    She felt her stomach churn as she took a step into the room, then heard the skitter of claws upon glass. Nuada turned, heart pounding in her chest because this was it, this was what she’d been waiting to see proof of for years, and then wished she hadn’t seen anything at all.
    It was small, but its teeth glinted dully beneath the crimson coating its mouth. Clutched between its two front paws was—
    Nuada grabbed at the door frame and threw up all she’d eaten for dinner, that image burned into her mind forever. Her father’s head in the hands of a dragon.

    She leaned against the car, resting her free arm across the top of it. “Dad’s dead, Argyros.”
    “What?”
    “He’s dead.”
    There was a long silence and then her brother asked in a strained voice, “How?”

    Nuada hadn’t stopped after that. She’d had that bag ready to go for months now but had never imagined she’d be grabbing a second one to carry things of her father’s.
    She forced back the tears, the agony, the pain and worked fast. His most prized of possessions she put into the extra duffel, that small, leather-bound scrapbook their mom had left behind. The drawers of his desk proved to hold some items of interest; another black book filled with names and numbers. Several knives.
    Nuada grabbed things at random and stuffed them into her bag, trying to ignore the body she’d draped with a sheet. The dragon had long since left with its prize, seeming to have no interest in her.
    Two runs would be necessary; she realized that as she heaved her backpack over her shoulder and gripped the extra one in her hand. She needed food, and enough to get her far away from here. Money, as well. She had some, but she’d need more.
    Argyros’ baby, his renovated Mustang from a hundred years ago, still sat in the garage because she hadn’t wanted to waste money on gas up to this point. He’d said multiple times that he’d fixed it so that it didn’t guzzle gas, but Nuada had learned to discredit many things her brother had said over the years.
    Most of them were lies, anyways.
    Now though, she yanked the brown cloth draped over the black body of the Mustang, almost stabbing the key into the trunk. It clicked open easily, and Nuada pulled it up, ready to drop her bags in there, but something stopped her.
    It... didn’t look right. Her younger self would never have noticed, but now she did. The inside of the trunk was smaller than the outside. It took her less than a minute to notice the small handhold at one corner of the dark interior fabric.
    Dust seemed to explode from inside of it, and the hinges creaked loud enough to wake the dead, but Nuada knew now why her brother had been so protective of his car.
    Weapons lay in gleaming rows in the trunk compartment, mostly knives and swords of various shapes, sizes, and most likely uses. There were a few handguns, one shot gun, ammo, and what seemed to be a sharpening tool for the blades.
    Her jaw tightened. How many interesting things were being confirmed this night. It was really bad timing, but she wasn’t going to protest.
    Nuada closed the space again and shoved her bags into the back. Her next trip into the house was to raid the pantry, which she kept stocked with various preserves that now turned out quite handy. She filled several bottles with water out of the tap, putting those in the back seat of the car.
    Her dad had never been a believer in credit cards, which meant he had plenty of cash on hand at all times. Nuada took advantage of this; years of studying this solitary man had taught her many things. The money sat within two hollowed out books on the top shelf in his room, all of which she rolled up and stuffed into her back pocket.
    She hurried back down the stairs and out into the garage, picking up her cell charger and extra battery from the kitchen counter as she passed by.
    The vehicle roared to life so loudly that it made her cringe as she studied the controls then put it into gear without further hesitation.

    “Basilisk attack, a week ago. I got home in time to see it scamper off with his head.” Nuada informed him without flinching, long having memorized this conversation in her mind.
    “Wait, you know—“ Argyros stopped himself, then continued. “Did Dad tell you?”
    “No.” She felt no inclination to expand.
    He sounded frustrated and distressed. “Nuada, I need you to talk to me. What do you know? How do you know it? And where are you anyways?”
    “I know everything, I learned it myself by observation and snooping, and I’m at Maggie’s house because I left your ‘contact information’ with her.” She could feel her temper wearing dangerously thin, the past seven days having done nothing for her mental state.
    Sometimes, a brilliant mind was a curse because it meant she remembered every detail of every moment starting from when she was almost five. She remembered Argyros leaving and her father’s headless body most vividly at the moment.
    “Dad and I agreed that you wouldn’t be told.” He said, and Nuada was tempted to just hang up on him.
    “You’re not the only genius in this family, Argryos,” the young woman reminded coldly, shifting around to put her back to the warm metal of her car. “I put things together.”
    There was silence from her brother for a time and Nuada could hear the rustle of papers in the background.
    Then, “Stay at Maggie’s. I’ll be there in a few days.”
    “No. I’m coming to you and then we’re meeting Mr. Stafford in Indiana in a week.”
    “Nuada, seriously, how much do you know?”
    “I stopped to tell him I needed my severance pay and he told me he was one of you. Dad’s book had his name in it. I got a call a day after I left home from him saying to find you and to get to Indiana.”

    The first day was the hardest; rather, the first night. She didn’t stop besides at a roadside outhouse, and drove through the darkness right on into the morning. It was noon the following day before she’d pulled into an outer-lying parking spot in front of a grocery store to crash for a couple of hours.
    When she’d woken up, Nuada had called Maggie to tell her that she was coming. It took her six days to span the rest of the distance from her home to her friend’s home, eating little and sleeping less. She felt like a wraith when she finally arrived and knew she looked like one as well.
    But sleep was getting harder and harder to come by. Blood splattered and bodies crunched inside the theater of her mind when she drifted into unconsciousness. Caffeinated drinks had been her salvation.
    The car held up well, though. Her genius brother; master car mechanic at sixteen. And, as he’d said, the mileage she got per gallon was almost impressive.

    She never would have admitted it, but his apartment impressed her. The whole block looked expensive, the complex itself was well-kept and there was even a gate guard who stopped her from entering. He wanted to know what her business in Burke Towers was, all in that suspicious tone that quickly put her on edge.
    “I’m here to visit my brother, Argyros Sylvester, apartment number 311? He was supposed to have told you I was coming.” It took work for her to keep her voice normal, to not show how uneasy she was.
    It had been another long, two day drive to reach upstate New York where her brother had found work doing heavens knew what. They hadn’t quite gotten to that part in their reunion over the phone while she’d been at Maggie’s.
    The guard told her to wait, returning to his little shack to check her words with his paperwork and returned a couple of minutes later.
    “All right, miss. Your information is correct. Larry did leave a stick note that Mr. Sylvester said his sister would be dropping by today. If you’ll follow that green sign there, it’ll lead you to visitor’s parking. Just keep in mind you can’t keep your car in those spots over night.”
    Nuada nodded her agreement and pulled slowly into the parking area of the apartment buildings, finding the guest area in short time and shutting off the engine after pulling in.
    Exhaustion set in quickly after she no longer needed her mental capabilities to drive, but she grabbed her phone from one of the cup-holders installed between the two front seats and dialed her brother’s number.
    Argyros picked up within the first two rings, his words uncharacteristically rushed as he answered, “Nuada?”
    “Who else?” She said with a dulled edge to her voice. “I’m downstairs in the guest parking. Don’t take too long combing your hair. The guard says I can’t stay all night.”
    “I’ll be down in five minutes.” He replied, and she could’ve sworn there was a hint of anticipation in his words.
    Well, of course he could be excited. He wasn’t the one who’d been left behind and abandoned.
    Nuada slumped back in her seat and slid down in it, fixing her eyes on the toes of her shoes in an attempt to keep herself awake for the next few minutes.

    She jerked back into awareness when a rap sounded on the window, dragging her from her dreams which were filled with darkness and pain and—
    Argyros knocked again, brows lowered in concern. Nuada shook herself, running her fingers through her hair to remove it from her eyes.
    “Let me in?” He asked, voice muffled through the window.
    His form was backlit by the gray cloud-covered sky and there was a bag over his shoulder and nothing about her brother had changed in the years apart.
    She leaned over to the passenger door to pull up the door lock manually, since the old beast didn’t have automatic buttons.

    The drive to Indiana was long and quiet. Argyros tried to engage her in conversation, but Nuada was having none of it. She filled him in on the missing details of their father’s death then spoke no more than she needed to.

   And that's all I've got of Nuada for now-- at least, all that would make sense. I have other little scribbles, but they would take a lot of explaining for there to be any coherency to the events described within.

  I hope you thought this was interesting, and feel free to leave feedback if something strikes you as needing a comment.

   Ad astra per aspera.
   To the stars, through difficulties.