Saturday, June 14, 2014

Snippets of Sunshine

well...I tried anyway. They're actually not very sunny. But today is sunny and I get to share some story with you, so.... XD

The first six are from Imperfecta - brand new story sparked during finals week. (Of course.) Beautiful People is coming up... XD

The next two are from Emmett, who shows up in To Know Your Name (well, a variation on that. it's not the title. but the story is about:
The girl without a name. 
Emmett Kinring Kallidin the Third, the boy who must choose to honor his father's name or to reject his inheritance and his family.
Jericho, the boy who would redeem his family's name after its destruction by their enemy.
The Imp, the boy who takes the name given him in anger and scorn and makes it his own because he can.
Maverick, the girl who understands that to know another's name is to know a part of them nothing else quite reaches.
Filigree, the girl who knows that naming is an act of love, and who is willing to give that love, no matter what it costs.
and all of them coming to know each understand each other's names...and to see somewhere in the mystery that there is a Name above all names, and what that truly means. 

enjoy! I'm saving any pieces I have left of CTTT for when I can say it's finished. ;)

and don't forget to check out more snippets here. :D Thank you, Katie!


“He’s not eating.”
“His father just died.”
“My son just died, and I am eating.”
“He is a child.”
“No child is going to starve themselves to death in my house! Make him eat!”

The small rubber sphere left his fingers almost reluctantly, arcing silently through the air. Da-dunk. Wall to floor. Back to his hand with a satisfying smack. Wall floor hand again. 
Da-dunk. Smack. 
Da-dunk. Smack. 
Da-dunk. Smack. 
From somewhere down below came an angry shout, and then the repeated dull thud of His Honor’s silver-tipped cane, banging against the ceiling.  
His wrist snapped vengefully once more.
Da-dunk. Smack.

The night air was cool, a strange mixture of the moor’s heather scent and the tangy taste of swamp grass when he breathed it in. There were no mirrors here, and the stars were millions of miles above him. But the doors were glass, and he stepped quickly away from them, until there was stone at his back.
He leaned against it, letting his spine mold to the stones (“Need I order the physician stitch a ramrod to your spine?! Fire ‘n blood, boy, stand straight!”) and pulled the cloak close about himself.
The stars were angry tonight. It pleased him, to see their fury. Evil afoot should bring no one joy, but most nights the stars were cold. Clear and breathtaking in their beauty, far removed from the muck of the world below. Then sometimes things happened even they could not ignore.

There was a violent crash within the house, and someone’s voice rose above, audible even through the massive doors.
“You’ve disinherited the rest! And you know for what crimes! Before God and man I have done no wrong, and that boy is more worthy than any I know to bear your name!”
Another crash.

The older man’s answering voice, raging furiously, carried even more easily. The boy outside wanted to cover his ears, but that would be cowardly, and instead he straightened his shoulders, watching as the smile disappeared from the girl’s face and pity replaced her laughter.

He was almost to the threshold when the door slammed shut in his face, and from the other side he heard the bolt.
“Father!” He screamed it this time, certain that from within he heard a faint, “Bae!”
The man could not keep them apart; he could not. The boy threw himself against the door, but the solid wood did not even quiver beneath his attack.

He woke screaming, blankets on the floor, sheets soaked with sweat. Sitting up, he buried his head in his hands, trying to slow his labored breathing. Cursed stars and their black omen. They would torment him simply because they could.

“What’s the black eye from?”
“Fell downstairs,” he replied laconically, looking past Moll’s left ear. He was not going to admit he had been beaten like horse thief by his own father’s father.
“Any other injuries?”
He shrugged, realizing too late it was a mistake when pain shot across his shoulders. He thought he covered well, but St. Rivers had eyes like a hawk.
“Off with your shirt.”
“I’m fine, sir.”
“Your grandfather won’t appreciate the bill if I have to rip it off you.”
His lips tightened, but his fingers went obediently to the buttons of his shirt. If only Moll would stay in her corner—but St. Rivers stepped behind him, pulling the shirt out of the way to get a better look, and she stepped with him like an orange shadow. Now they were both behind him, and he closed his eyes, picturing the wretched pity deepening on her face.
He quickly opened them.
“Hm,” St. Rivers said. The man's fingers were suddenly on the most painful part of his back, and he ground his teeth as the fingers explored outwards from the center of the pain.
“This from falling down the stairs also?”
He shut his eyes again. “Yes, sir.” He highly doubted anyone bruised like that from tumbling, but let St. Rivers draw his own conclusions.

Grey eyes. Not that grey that wished it had been blue, but the grey of sword steel, grey that he thought could turn to black in the right lighting. Those eyes had been for the lame boy alone, though. She had looked at his father an instant, as she relayed her message, but there had been an entire conversation occurring between her and the boy, he was sure of it.

      "Tell me…is she…safe…to have around the children?"
       The boy gave a harsh laugh, looking up as if to make sure he had heard the question rightly. "'Course she isn't safe. You have never in your life been in the presence of a more dangerous woman. Or man, for that matter," he added, almost as a careless afterthought. "She is not safe in the least. But the children…oh, the children could not be safer, than with her."

4 thoughts shared:

Bound and Freed said...

Wow, Katherine Sophia, those are awesome. How do you study medicine and write THIS at the same time? Whatever you are doing, keep it up.

Katherine Sophia said...

Thank you for making my morning! XD I think it's the studying that makes me write...if I didn't have the one, the other would stagnate. Though I still wish I had more time for both. :D

Miss Melody Muffin said...

I though I had commented on this post. Must have just thought the comments and not actually typed them. :D

*loving the plot for both these stories* And the characters, of course.

#1: Does not sound like a nice fellow. This is the... yeah, I know who it is.

2: :D

3: Your description is BEAUTIFUL.

4: *wince*

5: OWWWWWWWWW. Fascinating, but OW.

6: *snickering* Riiiight. A fall down the stairs would DEFINITELY cause bruises like that.



*sigh* I do love reading your snippets posts!

Katherine Sophia said...

I do that mind-commenting thing myself, Melody...XD

thank you! XD I'm so glad you enjoy them!!!


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