Writing Progress(?)

Y'all (and by 'y'all', I mean the 2 or 3 peeps come around semi-regularly. ::snort::)might have noticed I didn't post my progress from the library. ::runs finger along inside of collar:: I did make some progress on the main wip, but I cut most of what I wrote. I think I have about 1200 words on that story. Another rough scene on an older wip, and some stuff on the novella (written on the Quickpad, which I don't think I'm going to download till the thing is done.) Yup. I've gone schizoid with the writing--something avoid because I tend to get so deeply into my characters' heads, that it really screws me up to wrench myself out of one story to get immersed into another. But I have to keep writing and if that means switching back and forth, so be it. The new stories have nothing worth excerpting at this point, but with The Lost (my baby) I wrote a little interesting scene from the hero's pov:

Valerian stood in the shadows of his kingdom, his leafy prison. The trees rustling continuously with each breath he took, as a serpent wound it’s way around his calf. He grasped the viper’s neck and pulled it up, so that they were eye to eye. He looked into its cold steady gaze and the snake struck, it’s sharp teeth piercing his flesh.

“Feeling rebellious, are we little one?” His mouth curled in a humorless smile. “Let’s see how you fare with ones more of your own nature.” He flung the creature up through the ruined roof of the tavern and into the encroaching trees, where vines suddenly sprang to life, catching the serpent mid-air, wrapping it in a cellulose cocoon. Cutting off air, squeezing tight, the movement was furious, writhing. Then nothing. The vines unwrapped sinuously, leaves coated with bits of blood and flesh.
The viper's skeleton fell to the ground at his feet. As he stepped over it, it sank into the earth and was quickly devoured by velvet moss. By the time he’d taken his second step, all remnants of the snake had disappeared from view and from Valerian’s mind.

In fact, there was nothing on Valerian’s mind, but the man he was to meet in the next few minutes. He stood by the window of broken jutting glass and waited, eschewing the still serviceable chairs available. He was nothing if not patient.

The sound of approaching horses roused him from his contemplation, but he didn’t reveal himself. Not only was he patient, he was cautious too, and he’d only be found if he wanted to.

Minutes later, instead of the persons of interest he expected, a retinue of soldiers came. Nothing of their colors indicated who they served but they were headed towards the Palace. Was the Alphamega employing mercenaries now? This time Valerian’s low chuckle was genuine. He wondered who the fortifications were against, himself, or some other enemy?

One scarlet-robed rider caught his attention, a heathen, skin darker than his own, white hair flowing over shoulder and back. Interesting. His gaze moved forward, to a golden hair warrior, on a beautiful chestnut and another odd member of the party, a Sikatrix, in royal blue robes with elaborate embroidered pyns of prayer along her sleeves and hem. Something in her profile arrested his attention, as her head turned this way and that. Something about the delicate up tilt of her nose, the soft curve of her mouth….

He frowned; her skin was a golden honey hue that seemed to glowed from within the depths of the dark hood. Then she look at him without seeing, and emotion knifed through him. He stepped back from the window. It was her. His glimpse of her was short, but lasted a life-time. He’d know that face anywhere.
He’d once made love to it, over it, over and over.
And he’d dream of it many times in the interim.
And he’d grown to hate it.
The bitch was back.

I really am going to have fun with those two. heh.