5 Works by Adoraa
Listing Works
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Summary
Summoning Day. The day their mother decides who among them is most capable of fighting for their household’s future. Peruere has spent her entire life being prepared for it, so she should have been ready when the day finally arrived. Instead, she’d lain awake half the night with her gaze pinned to the ceiling. When morning came, she had to get away, and only in the forest did she finally stabilize enough to come up with her plan.
Survive whatever happens, no matter what she has to resort to.
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Heavy is the crown, and only one can win it.{Updates sporadically.}
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Summary
Here. The pasture where the boar gorges. The choice in color is telling enough, but most damning of all is what the huntress hears beyond the door at the very end of the corridor. A voice speaking soothingly slow, using the sort of words meant to calm a child’s terror.The huntress does not hesitate. With one sure step forward, she pushes her heel into a floorboard with enough force to snap it. Beyond the door, the man’s voice stops mid-word.
Silence. The door is closed. Then, it is open, and there he is, the boarish bastard.
Shadow to shadow. Face to face. Eye to eye.
The huntress smiles.
“Hello.”
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There is no such thing as proper justice. -
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Lynette looks at these shapes in the mirror, but the more she looks, the less she sees. Try as she might, she can’t connect what she sees to what she is.
Lynette. That’s what she is, technically. But what is Lynette? A shadow? A princess? A trick of the eyes?
She doesn’t know. The mirror never answers when she asks.
She should stop asking, then. Talking to mirrors is a strange thing to do.
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Shadows are cold. Shadows are dark. Shadows are deep. Shadows are safe. -
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“Damn it, Will. I was just kidding. I didn’t want that to happen to you. Didn’t want any of this.” His voice drops. “But…I didn’t do much to stop it either, did I?”There, Henry has to pause. He looks down at his boots, letting the silence crawl back in.
Then, he crosses to the corner. There, a chair sits buried under a sheet. He pulls it out, throwing up a cloud of dust, and drags it a few feet away from the slumped figure. After setting it in place, he takes a heavy seat, bracing his elbows on his knees.
He looks at Scraptrap – or William; he’ll figure out which name fits most – for a long moment.
“Look,” he says eventually. “I have some things I’ve been needing to get off my chest for a long, long time. So…”
He leans forward.
“Let’s chat, old friend.”
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The tomb their choices built. -
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Summary
It's not because she's strong; He’ll be able to match her…eventually.
He splits the deck again and tugs harder than he should, bending another card in half. The card is quickly plucked and tossed onto the floor.
Every small jump of his nerves whenever his gaze lands on her. Every wave of heat that washes over him whenever she humors him…or smiles at him.
Gods…that smile.
He huffs quietly; He's just bent another card. He flicks the card away with one finger, then rearranges the deck and sets it down before he can ruin it any further.
What's wrong with him? Why won't it stop?
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He doesn't know when it started, why it started, and why it won't stop... But he'll find out, one memory at a time.
{Vignette chapters [<300 words]}