I've made good progress today - more than 3 pages in the Merlin story (and hoping to write some more in the afternoon) and a little progress with the Dr Who/Sherlock BBC/Torchwood crossover, which has its own home here http://13th-sherlock.dreamwidth.org/ (http://13th-sherlock.dreamwidth.org/), in case anyone is interested. It's a fun story to write, which I do in bits and pieces alongside more urgent projects.
Excerpt:
The door swung open noiselessly and they were engulfed in darkness… no, it was more than merely darkness. It was definite blackness, and it seemed to pour out from a stone well in the chamber behind the door like thick, oily black smoke, sucking up all light in its way like a living thing. The torches that Gilli had put into the iron rings mounted to the wall began to splutter.
“Here we are,” said the young sorcerer softly. “The Well of Blackness. A tear in the fabric between our world and the otherworld, through which evil spirits can escape and wreak havoc among men. This is the evil my grandsire has wrought; and it cannot be undone by aught else but his own blood… which, in this case, would be me.”
“How are you supposed to do that?” asked Lancelot.
“I don’t know,’ admitted Gilli. “All I know is that the answer lies in the Perilous Chest, which can be found somewhere in the next room.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2012-11-03 12:55 pm (UTC)I've made good progress today - more than 3 pages in the Merlin story (and hoping to write some more in the afternoon) and a little progress with the Dr Who/Sherlock BBC/Torchwood crossover, which has its own home here http://13th-sherlock.dreamwidth.org/ (http://13th-sherlock.dreamwidth.org/), in case anyone is interested. It's a fun story to write, which I do in bits and pieces alongside more urgent projects.
Excerpt:
The door swung open noiselessly and they were engulfed in darkness… no, it was more than merely darkness. It was definite blackness, and it seemed to pour out from a stone well in the chamber behind the door like thick, oily black smoke, sucking up all light in its way like a living thing. The torches that Gilli had put into the iron rings mounted to the wall began to splutter.
“Here we are,” said the young sorcerer softly. “The Well of Blackness. A tear in the fabric between our world and the otherworld, through which evil spirits can escape and wreak havoc among men. This is the evil my grandsire has wrought; and it cannot be undone by aught else but his own blood… which, in this case, would be me.”
“How are you supposed to do that?” asked Lancelot.
“I don’t know,’ admitted Gilli. “All I know is that the answer lies in the Perilous Chest, which can be found somewhere in the next room.