. . Okay, then.

[taennyn]

I actually have clue one for the meme requests for Falcons' Feathers and Chevalier de Grammont, the remaining many-request stories.

I also appear to have an inkling of clue one for the Trickwood Unification. (dear fuck, it's way more than one novel I could actually start Wild Roses here fuuuuuuck)

Clue One means chunks of jigsaw puzzle, not

Comments

[taennyn]

sudden stabbing muscle-twinges in one's back - Falcons' Feathers Part 2 (between accents of gold and black and face to face)

--

Irina woke up with a sore neck. Tried rolling her head around as she got dressed, stretching her ear towards her shoulder, her chin to the curve of her collarbone, twisting her head to try to look behind herself. It loosened a little, enough that stretching an arm up overhead wasn't too bad, but when she looked up at the lights, her back seized up all the way from between her shoulderblades to the place where her neck met her skull.

The keen of pain barely registered in her ears. She wasn't sure if she'd squeezed all the air out of her lungs and so couldn't shriek, or if the pain was overwhelming enough that she just couldn't hear herself shriek. Blessed Mother her neck hurt.

She carefully tried to ease her head back down, inching a vertebra at a time, until she was looking at the curve of her bosom beneath the apron, neck muscles unwilling to stretch very far.

"Ahhhh," she muttered, aware of how pained she sounded, and wondered how on earth she was going to keep cleaning the air vents where wall met ceiling in the public hallways.

Tried rotating her head, raising one arm slowly towards the ceiling as she bent the other way. Maybe she could still get herself looking the right direction--she took a careful, slightly shaky breath, praying in the privacy of her head that she wouldn't set off the muscles in her upper back again.

Cleaning a terem was nothing like working on a horse, no matter how much it looked like just a scaled-up version. Ow. She'd take jamming herself into a too-small airshaft any day over this.

No choice, though, and she needed to get to the servants' samovars before she started work if she wanted to eat before obed.

[billradish]

It doesn't really surprise me that you're able to do a good job of describing all those movements and places, but still. Good job!