I opened the Muse Fusion last night, did some writing, slept a Loooooong Time (which felt wonderful) and did some more writing.

Here's the snippets I've posted so far:


Ripples

The tall, handsome man in the dress smiled at Othan and then walked on, talking with the small Asataarla woman.

The boy turned to watch him walk. The silk was beautiful, and rippled with the man’s long stride. Othan watched as the two turned into an expensive restaurant. After an obvious double-take, the greeter led them to a table with obvious respect.

Othan dug into his pocket to count his cash. Three basic tokens and one precious coin. Not enough for a dress, even in the second-hand store. But he couldn’t stop thinking about it, the pale dress against the man’s very dark skin. He couldn’t help imagining what it would be like to have silk legs swishing around his legs like that—though his skin color, with its olive tones, would go better with a different color.

He put his tokens back in his pocket and headed in to the store, not really sure what he would do there, but the lure of the dresses had caught him, and he couldn’t resist.
...


Young Love

The young couple got off of the train, two tall, thin forms with carrot-bright hair, slender fingers twined together. The contrast of the Mayaloi-dark skin of the woman and the Irfai-pale skin of the other was striking. They looked around with wide eyes, and Jakei couldn’t tell if they were pulling together out of nervousness or love. She smiled, and thought, probably both.

“I didn’t think Mayaloi came with red hair.” Murruni murmured.

“They don’t. She must have other blood, unless that’s a dye job.”

“Can they get that color with dye?

Jakei shrugged, and tossed her long, golden hair, letting the metallic painted highlights flash in the moonlight. “Beats me. My hairdresser might know.” The Mayaloi woman’s eyes were drawn to the bright peacock-feather patterns painted in Jakei’s hair, and she leaned to her companion, whispering into her companion’s ear.

Beside Jakei, Murruni ran his hand over his bald, tattooed head, stretching to let his gently-sculpted muscles ripple. Like Jakei, he was painted, but his metallic paints were applied to his body, accenting the tattoos that scrolled around his body. “Care for a wager?”

“You really think they’ll have eyes for anyone but each other?”

“They’ll be disappointed if we don’t at least try.”

Smiling, they stepped forward to greet the young lovers. “Welcome to Affanumuur.”
...


Bead by Trelgon

They returned to the summer gather late; the sun was low over the hills and everyone was asleep. Dulsa and Trelgon quickly unloaded the baskets of fish from Fidget, then started draping them over the waiting poles in the smokehouse. Dulsa yawned hugely and repeatedly until Trelgon laughed. “You’re really tired,” he said. “Go on to bed. I’ll see you later.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Dulsa’s hand went to the carved fish in the center of her necklace. She felt very self-conscious about it—they’d been adults only a few months, and she hadn’t had very many beads there yet, but also she knew her younger sister, Freijali, had a crush on Trelgon. How would Freijali take seeing a bead carved in Trelgon’s distinctive style on her sister’s neck?

It was only a month—there was no serious romance between her and Telgon—but a month could seem like forever when you were almost adult and couldn’t court the object of your attraction yourself. Dulsa reached the large tent she shared with her age-set and her sister’s, still yawning. What was wrong with her? The day hadn’t been that strenuous!

She looked around and, to her relief, didn’t see Freijali. The house looked different too. It took Dulsa a minute to realize why—most of the people in the house were sleeping tandem. As she walked over to where her own furs were rolled, one of the few singletons rolled over, looked up, and hastily stood. It was Reivani. “Dulsa—you missed it!” His eyes were shining, though his voice was low.

“Missed what?”

“Our final test—and we passed!” Reivani stepped closer in the dimness of the tent, and he raised one hand toward her, cupped upward. “Would you—” his eyes dropped to her neck, and he stopped. “Oh. Um.”
...

I've got 1100 words into Bead By Trelgon so far. It's at a point where I could call it good or I could call it the end of the first act.  So sponsoring it will get the unapproved draft posted immediately.  The others aren't as close to finished, but I'll give priority to working on whatever gets sponsored first!

Want to read more? I'll work on whichever fragment(s) you tip me to work on, at a rate of at least 90 words per dollar or 1000 per $10 (by which I mean I reserve the right to write more than you pay for). You can tip me in Torn World Credits or use my tip hat at www.wyld-dandelyon.com. Just be sure to let me know which piece you're paying for.ring

I'll be posting more snippets this weekend, over at torn_world in the Muse Fusion post.  Sometime tomorrow or next week I'll also be sending private copies of each entire work in progress (as far as I've gotten, anyway) to the people who prompted them.  More prompts would be very welcome, and would get you a peek at the rough draft of anything your prompt inspires! 

I hope to see you there!

Now I'm off to write some more.