NaNo Excerpts
Nov 24, 2010 19:03:26 GMT -5
Post by sadniss everdeen on Nov 24, 2010 19:03:26 GMT -5
[OOC: Sorry to pull this up; but this part just made me go 'awww'. And WT, I <3 your 2nd person text that flows so easily. I'm going to write like that next year for NaNo.]
The captain eyes the taller girl and the rags that hide her frame. It's no secret that Stormsong is a deeply sexual creature, always causing stirs throughout the cities they fall upon from the brothels and good looking men and women alike that cross her path. None are safe from her bewitching charm and wandering fingers that have a habit of coaxing yelps from the younger woman drawn out from indecency or pure surprise. How does one manage to wear such blatant disregard to modesty with confidence? It's utterly confusing.
“You're staring.” she offers as a factual point, rolling her neck to face Jessica with the slight shine of teeth. Night is in full swing now – it will be many hours before dawn breaks with their pending demise. Instead of sputtering feverishly and suffering through the sneering silence, she's struck with how little she knows of her cellmate. Curiously, she shuffles over to the larger form, sitting cross-legged from her with a childish display of innate curiosity. The thief mirrors her pose mockingly, even going so far as to twirl her hair with her finger into the faint resemblance of curls.
“How is it?” she asks out of several moments of peace, prompting a confused hum from the companion across from her. Refusing to be deterred with that lackluster response, she instead repeats her question.
“How does it feel?” This time it gets a slight increase in action.
“How does what feel?”
“To go around flaunting your body and jumping into bed with every attractive thing that has legs.” Now that prompts a reaction, both eyebrows shooting skyward at such a blunt approach from the usually flustered blonde.
“Wonderful, actually.” she states warily, unsure where the conversation is headed. Jessica nods solemnly, face taking on a thoughtful and slightly fallen expression.
“I'd like to have had that freedom. It seems like such a glamorous way to live.”
Stormsong has never been one for matters of the heart. The defeated emotions sketched upon her friend's face is much too saddening on the usually bubbly woman, but she lacks the elegant words most know how to weave. So instead of prose, she shows affection and reassurance the only way she knows how.
The thief rocks on her knees and gently presses their lips together.
The captain eyes the taller girl and the rags that hide her frame. It's no secret that Stormsong is a deeply sexual creature, always causing stirs throughout the cities they fall upon from the brothels and good looking men and women alike that cross her path. None are safe from her bewitching charm and wandering fingers that have a habit of coaxing yelps from the younger woman drawn out from indecency or pure surprise. How does one manage to wear such blatant disregard to modesty with confidence? It's utterly confusing.
“You're staring.” she offers as a factual point, rolling her neck to face Jessica with the slight shine of teeth. Night is in full swing now – it will be many hours before dawn breaks with their pending demise. Instead of sputtering feverishly and suffering through the sneering silence, she's struck with how little she knows of her cellmate. Curiously, she shuffles over to the larger form, sitting cross-legged from her with a childish display of innate curiosity. The thief mirrors her pose mockingly, even going so far as to twirl her hair with her finger into the faint resemblance of curls.
“How is it?” she asks out of several moments of peace, prompting a confused hum from the companion across from her. Refusing to be deterred with that lackluster response, she instead repeats her question.
“How does it feel?” This time it gets a slight increase in action.
“How does what feel?”
“To go around flaunting your body and jumping into bed with every attractive thing that has legs.” Now that prompts a reaction, both eyebrows shooting skyward at such a blunt approach from the usually flustered blonde.
“Wonderful, actually.” she states warily, unsure where the conversation is headed. Jessica nods solemnly, face taking on a thoughtful and slightly fallen expression.
“I'd like to have had that freedom. It seems like such a glamorous way to live.”
Stormsong has never been one for matters of the heart. The defeated emotions sketched upon her friend's face is much too saddening on the usually bubbly woman, but she lacks the elegant words most know how to weave. So instead of prose, she shows affection and reassurance the only way she knows how.
The thief rocks on her knees and gently presses their lips together.