Yesterday, I actually got a lot of various scenes written. Now just to get the books and stories pulled together, huh? :rolls eyes at self:
Lovemark the Seasons
I wanted to love you because that's what you wanted, but... "I don't really do in love."
Words don't always make sense, and your stormy eyes told me these ones hadn't.
Exasperated, I sighed and tried again. "I love my brother, but I'm not in love with him."
"Yes..." You still weren't getting it.
"I can love you without falling in love with you." Moments ticked between us. Wrestling angels of understanding, and I knew I wasn't helping, but. "You're not my brother."
Everything is Blood
Russian snow—she still had to snap Niko out of the Red Room in his mind whenever they worked on Russian snow—outside on the ground and more of it falling from a stone-grey sky. Her leg was propped up on a chair, her crossbow completing her arm at one side. The other hand filled out paperwork. She'd been hunting this trail for weeks now. This wasn't a simple job, put an arrow in an enemy or a terrorist and stop the bad guy in his or her tracks. She preferred the simple jobs. You're just a girl with a bow. This wasn't what she'd signed up for.
Mother and daughter traveling on the train, in cars, over the national borders, seeking asylum, refuge, what? It didn't matter. One of them was Collie's target and the only complication was which.
The Rothnen Cycle: Blood
"Thinking on what might have beens?" Kyrieh asked gently.
Casaia shrugged, brought the analytical gleam back into her eye. "Not really. Renaiven and I could never have been."
Kyrieh's eyebrows came up and Casaia realized her friend had never know the exact relationship that hadn't occurred.
[untitled]
No team is family as a group. One bond leads to another and to another. This one would do anything for that one and the links form a chain which eventually circles the entire Department. Whisper called Shift called Thought called Vision called name after name and operative after operative with the word that now was the time they had all been waiting for from forever ago when they were children and swore one day this would be over. Tracers moved into computer files their admins had never known they hacked. Voluntary teams turned involuntary and used every. single. privilege, every single access point into the systems designed to control these living weapons. Trip wires and triggers promised certain retribution should certain things be done. Law books were opened, loopholes exploited, implants deactivated or interfered with in whatever fashion wouldn't kill the one who wore them.
This was the biggest mission of the teams' collective lives. They hadn't been taught how to fail.
