Other writing samples

[yuubie]

Setting this up as a place to store writing samples! Each post after will be dedicated to a specific character ^w^

 

[yuubie]

Spoiler: sample

"smoking in the presence of our creator is a blasphemous thing." greyson's eyes lifted from the flickering flame of her lighter, hand cupped around it to shield it from the wind of the evening. she let the cigarette hang in her lips, a soft chuckle escaping her. "i'm not doing it in the church, father,-" she watched with mild interest as the woman's hackles raised at the tone of voice, wings puffing up around her head, "so i don't see the cause for concern." a soft scowl settled on soleil's face at greyson's seeming imprudence, which got her a sharp smile in return. "regardless, taking on such a profane act is... there are places for such indulgences, but this is not one of them." of course, the holiest place. the towering cathedral, with its tinted windows and fading exterior of paint.

soleil's role in this city wasn't some coveted secret ⸺ the head of the ash family, caretaker and guardian. the father of the city. sure, father was a traditionally masculine term, but its seen its fair share of the feminine. perhaps mother was too intimate a term to call someone who seemed so detached ⸺ burdened by the weight of people's sins, to hear and absolve them of these things. truly a father's role, to be the overseer. the one who hears and knows all, but never truly intervenes. of course, the lady soleil was no exception. "miss rosaria's worried about you." the lady's dear sister, the sweetheart of their people. the softer, gentler double of the siblings. the one who, in soft desperation, pleaded greyson to watch over her sister. attempts on the lady's life was no surprise, given the power and position she held ⸺ but the thing that the people didn't know about their dear *sweetheart* was the beast that sat in wait. a gentle exterior, but something violent lurked beneath. ready to tear apart anyone who dared raise a wrong hand towards her beloved sister. of course, she couldn't just go about and maim every person who wrongfully crossed their paths. hence, the need for the bloodhounds. those who weren't afraid to get their hands a bit dirtied, for the benefit of the family. the hounds loyally placed at their side.

but, all that aside, greyson could make the claim that she still has some good in that dark hollow that was her chest. a small, caged thing. but, it was enough to compel the woman to tuck the unlit cigarette behind her ear. even as her tongue itched for the sickly sweet draw of smoke, but perhaps there was something else to fill that need. soleil's eyes were fixated on her, liquid-gold and fiery. as if she were about to ordain some sort of furious judgement upon her eternal soul, or however that ordeal with. "i've never seen a bloodhound who was so disheveled and careless. they've served the family for ages, and yet, you disgrace their visage." greyson almost felt a bit hurt by those words ⸺ even if she knew they were partially true. she wasn't the ideal bloodhound, lacking the pristine image they tended to keep. even with the blood that coated their hands, it was partial that they retain the image of the family. for the sake of the common folk, she supposed. to keep their minds at ease, where they never saw the dirtier underside of their beloved world.

what stole her attention was the stance soleil took. a small sparrow, who thought itself an eagle, squawking and flapping its wings up at the wolf who looked it down. a creature who thought itself larger than it truly was, as if it had the means to defy the nature placed upon it. and maybe, she could. the power she held was undeniable ⸺ the people thrived in her presence, singing beautiful harmonies under her guiding palm. but that left one to wonder what laid beneath that facade, designed for the people's benefits.

 

[yuubie]

Spoiler: SAMPLE 1

Argenti's eyes flickered over Boothill's expression, an attempt to read the man's face in response to his words. Many things crossed, but then, it settled. A look he could almost call the look wistful, as if there was something that was just in his grasp. And then, it seemingly slips from his fingers, the expression dissipating as he took a drink. Argenti let a soft sigh escape his lips, a small hum of understanding escaping his throat. He watched as the bartender moved over to refill Boothill's glass, a soft noise of liquid clashing with glass filtering through the sound-addled air. If there was a particular trait Argenti would allow himself some pride in, it was his senses. Keen and sharpened to the world around him, able to catch even the faintest glimpse of something or to hear even the quietest creatures. Something he honed, like a weapon, and at times, it was used for such a purpose. But, for others, they softened in a way, to better appreciate the world around him. The only way to truly experience the beauty of something was to allow yourself to feel it, in all meanings of the word.

At least, that was his belief.

He let out a faint chuckle at the words, eyes creasing with a smile. Though, there was something softer etched into his features. An almost sad curiosity. While he was right in a sense, as he supposed to most, this place would be the farthest thing from beautiful. A reasonable assumption, as most people had a rather specific ⸺ he always tried to avoid the word *narrow,* for the fact that it felt too harsh a statement ⸺ view on what beauty truly was, though such a thing was terribly subjective. But, Argenti supposed that was the nature of it. Beauty was a different thing to a many different people, and he strived to spread his knowledge of how easily one could find it ⸺ if they just took the time to look.

Yet, it was the rest of his statement that had garnered Argenti's attention. The idea that he struggled to find the beautiful things in life, and how the universe was 'forked' up ⸺ another interesting use of words, one that strayed from the usually vulgar language that one could associate with the filler word. Though, he wouldn't press. If anything, it was intriguing. He supposed when once was faced with many tragedies and grievances, the beauty within this world begins to seep away. One becomes unable to see it, instead it being riddled with the grime of pain. Another reason why he supposed their crossing was a bit of fate, and a bit of Idrila's insistence. "Well, to know you held admiration for who we once were is... well, I find the proper words to express myself are fleeting at the moment." A small, puffed breath escaped him, shaking his head. "But, I hope that you're able to find beauty again, in this universe. To see a world without beauty must be devastating, I couldn't imagine such a thing." An express of empathy for the man. He knew how easy it could be, to fall into that grief. To only see the uglier parts, because finding the beautiful meant finding hope.

And hope was a scary thing for some people, because it was as just as easy to find as it was to lose.

And for a moment, his mind was pacing between the use of *"darling"* towards him, and the words spoken. A faint blush settled high on his cheeks, something he quickly masked by turning his gaze elsewhere, brief enough for him to gather himself. "Well, I find myself disagreeing with such a notion, but I shan't press further." Argenti didn't quite miss the underlying notion of the words, the way he believed people perceived him. Maybe he was right in some degree, for the fact that Argenti couldn't say he knew the man like his fellow rangers ⸺ or even the criminals he chased ⸺ knew him. But, in the same breath, he wasn't a man who was easily swayed. Perhaps, it related to his inability to see the beauty in the world anymore. That he lost the ability to see the beauty in himself. A sad thing, truly.

"Ah, I see. I would suppose that's the case, especially given the fact that, I assume, you travel often. I imagine finding downtime, and nice places to drink, can be difficult." His armored fingers tapped carefully against the cup in his hands, listening to the soft clicking of metal against glass. "Where will you be heading, after this? If I may inquire, of course." Perhaps there was a momentary hope, although for what, he was unsure.

Argenti took pause at the words, an acknowledging hum escaping his throat. "A thoughtful concern, but the title of Knight is not just for show. I have the capability to protect myself, but I like to avoid violence when possible. Along with that, I'm keenly aware that you carry a weapon, so I wouldn't be so careless to assume you're not dangerous. But, you've yet to give me reason to fear for my safety." He gave a small wave of his hand, as if to accentuate his words.

"And well... I don't find myself particularly deterred by such a notion, either. I am not unfamiliar with unfavorable reputations, and the danger they bring. But I'd also hate to allow myself to be caught up in words spread, rather than seeking the truth." His lips pressed into a thin line at that, brows creasing. He knew how some viewed the Knights, their crumbling glory, and those who retained their devotion to Idrila. The whispered words of their foolishness, how odd they were, and many other unpleasant things. Most found his devotion strange, to an Aeon they boldly claimed was dead. It left a bitter taste high in his throat, and hard to swallow back. But he wouldn't linger on it, banishing it from his mind as he took another sip.