Hi there, and welcome to my first Muse Tuesday, a series of practice scenes from my WIP’s, and my favorite canons, just for practice.
Now, I know Workshop Wednesdays would technically be a better fit for these scenes, but I want a dedicated place to explore characters and dialogue, separate from Wednesday, where I focus on descriptions.
To be clear, Muse Tuesday scenes might be a little rough, but I still invite comments. If you notice that I rely too heavily on certain descriptors, if you feel characters are just completely unlikable, or if you just want to say you enjoyed the scene, please feel free to comment.
Now, let’s get right into this scene, set in the world of my next project Rainwater Archaic.
Musa Dajen lifted an eyebrow. “What the hell’s it?”
“Whelp,” Zircon started, smacking his lips in that way everyone hated, holding the ‘it’ in question up to his eye. “Looks like some kind of bow.”
“A bow?” Musa grumbled, all attitude and skepticism. It was a long contraption of pitch-dark metal, alive with odd, sparkling patterns where the light hit it. Attached to it were smaller limbs of the same metal, fanning down its back, and a flat, wooden handle, oddly placed.
Musa had tried swinging it like a sword, but its flat handle was unwieldy.
Rook had given it a long, half-lidded stare, the tattoos on her arms coming alive with blue light as she burned from the inside with magic. When the light faded, she’d handed it back with a terse, “Not a catalyst.”
Otar had refused to touch it altogether, rubbing his giant hands together nervously. “It would be best if we . . . just took it back to Rainwater, perhaps?” he said, with a hopeful shrug.
And naturally, Zircon nodded in agreement . . . before pulling the thing up to one eye again anyway, shouting, “Crossbow!”
“Just, put the damn thing down, Zircon,” Rook groaned, knowing he wouldn’t. And then quickly adding, “And don’t point it at us.”
As if that was a reminder, Zircon immediately started pointing it at everyone. “Really though! A crossbow, innit? Gotta be!”
“I’ll cross your goddamn bow if you point it at me again,” Musa said. When he noticed Rook staring, he shrugged. “I’m tired.”
She kept staring.
“The threats’ll be better tomorrow, I promise.”
The staring intensified. By merit of not changing at all.
“Bloody hell, woman. I’ll carve you a new tattoo if you don’t stop staring.”
And Rook, knowing Musa too well to be intimidated, nodded. “That’s bett–”
The room shook with voiceless godsong. Everything turned purple in a glaring flash as wings flared out, two whipping to each side of the contraption in Zircon’s hand as it fired–a single, crackling bolt of violet energy. All of their heads turned, watching the bolt arch up, hitting a wall.
And passing through it, completely silent, leaving no trace of its passing.
Musa, closest to a window, ran over and threw it open. The purple bolt was a dot on the horizon, slow to disappear.
When he turned around, everyone was cursing at Zircon, who cradled the crossbow to his chest. “Well, I was right, weren’t I!? I said it was a crossbow and it was!” he was shouting over them.
Musa, seeing the distraction, managed to sidle close to Zircon . . . and snatch the crossbow the moment it was held in only one hand. The motion, the quickness of it, shut everyone up, making it easy for Musa to command their attention.
“Only thing this is–right?–is mine.”
Again, this was a practice scene from Rainwater Archaic, a WIP. If you enjoyed it, let me know with a like, because I loved writing it. I’m finding myself super familiar with these characters immediately and I’m looking forward to the point when I can devote myself to making them bicker about whether things are crossbows.
But, even if you don’t like or comment, thank you for passing by.
And, as always, write well.