Pico Day 21

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Here's today's post for your snippets, comments, thoughts.

Comments

[espresso-addict.livejournal.com]

Not so productive hunting today. Only 350 words and some editing, though there's a couple of sentences in that I was quite pleased with. I did make a teensy bit of progress on my plethora of bullet points for this scene.

Got a bit side-tracked on researching various things that weren't particularly helpful (especially as I convinced myself that one detail I have earlier of which I'm fond is probably a touch anachronistic), but I did get myself an image gallery of suitable models for the location, which hasn't yet turned into words but at least gives me something to refer to every time I want to describe bits of it.

I feel completely drained, so I'm going to get an earlier night...

[silly-swordsman.livejournal.com]

Here is one from yesterday:

The microbots spread, built more microbots. When they covered the side of the Moon facing Earth, their lights formed text:
"Advertise here!"

And here is one from today.

He saw the exit sign. Paused. Then he opened the door, stepped through, and left Reality. He had just planned to visit, not stay a lifetime.

Yesterday I had the sort of workday that made wish this was autobiographical. Still, the weekend's in sight, and tomorrow I'll go in to London to meet some good friends I haven't seen for years.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Lots more research and some exciting ideas (diagrams were drawn!), much of which I'll not have time to incorporate into the length story this will need to be considering the due date. Anyway, finished and polished somewhat the rest of the scene with Cerrig.

***

“In one of the caves, there is a soldier feverish from an arrow wound. Short, sturdy, light-haired with dark blue eyes, although those may well be closed,” Scryloc continued. He released Cerrig’s arm and pulled something from his pocket. He held out his closed fist, palm upwards and uncurled his fingers. A pointed stone with bits of bloodied wood attached lie in its centre.

Cerrig’s eyes grew round. “I’ll bring what’s necessary,” he said, starting to turn away.

“Wait,” Scryloc said, drawing a leather pouch from his pocket. He dropped the arrowhead inside. The tip of a black feather peeped from the opening as he tightened the leather strings. “Take care approaching him. He retains at least his sword. Show the arrowhead and the feather if he is awake. Lay them near him, if he is unconscious and wake him with words, not touch.”

“He has the sight?” Cerrig asked, taking the pouch.

“I believe so,” Scryloc said, “although it’s possible he is unschooled and exercised his gift unconsciously in extremis.”

The boy shouted that the cart was fully loaded. Cerrig waved his acknowledgement. “I hope I find him alive,” Cerrig said.

“Bring the body back if he isn’t,” Scryloc said, obliterating the map at their feet with broad strokes of his stick. “I would that I could go with you.”

Cerrig shook his head. “This close to the celebrations there would be panic and your brother would send half of Sarum searching for you.”

“No doubt,” Scryloc sighed. “Take Figden and an extra cart. Proceed as fast as you can; I’m not sure yet how much I can help from here.”

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Still fiddling with a few different ideas. Today, we see that Neumann and Noack have started their celebrations early and Illya has found them in Beldon's empty office. I'm not sure I'm going to go in this direction in the end, but i wanted to see where it might lead.

***

Illya looked at them for a moment, looked from one box of presents to the other, then shook his head. "It's a bit early to be hitting the Christmas Spirits isn't it? Next time make sure the thermal imaging system is turned off, not just the office perimeter alarm. I'm not officially on duty for another twenty minutes, I strongly suggest my friends, you be gone by then," he turned the light off again and closed the door.

Left in the dark, neither man spoke for several seconds. "Idiot," Noack finally hissed, "how could you forget that?"

"It's hard to bring back up once it's been shut down. With Strothers off at his meeting, I didn't expect anyone to check the monitors for a while."

"He's going to know it was us, I should never have let you..."

"What's he going to do, run to Beldon? He's got no proof, Illya won't say anything," Neumann said with the assurance only an almost empty bottle of Kirschwasser can provide.

Long day, no words

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Too tired to do anything even vaguely useful. I'll watch today's episode of "The World's Worst Movies" on German TV - it's going to be Sharknado 2, with the acerbic comments of Oliver Kalkofe - and than fall into bed. Especially as we're having the semi-annual flat cleaning frenzy tomorrow. Magic doesn't have a rat's chance to work. Sorry.

[six-old-cars.livejournal.com]

A slightly sad day made it hard for me to get into the swing, but having written 300 words of blog post (http://six-old-cars.livejournal.com/29542.html) about that I did then manage 700 on the novel this evening.

There's some name place-holders in today's snippet. It's from the "sole developer plan" memory Catherine chose, and [Elise] should be Elise's surname when I've thought of one...

Elise knows what he really means. They want to take the project away from her, give it to some pure-bred Arcturan with no feel for the complexities of what she's already achieved. They didn't interrogate anyone after Arlan's breakdown or Johann's rampage.
“I can continue the work,” she says. “I work best alone.”
The guy nods, condescendingly, disbelief plastered over his face. “We realise that,” he says, fake charm on full. “Nobody's suggesting we replace you. But the few written minutes we have mention the importance of peer review. Surely you need an observer, at least. Just a second set of eyes.”
“Garbage!” Peer review indeed! Does he think she's stupid, not to see through that? “Only one observer is needed, and that's me. I don't know who said otherwise but-”
“It was you, Doctor [Elise].”
For a moment, Elise has no idea what he's talking about. What did she say, when? And why? She thinks back over the conversation and it's like a dream, like the engram replays, like watching somebody else's thoughts.
“Multiple observers,” she says, “would be essential in application. The perspective...” She tries to order her thoughts but everything's hazy, double-exposed.
“No one person will ever be guaranteed to catch every nuance,” the colonel reads off his pad. “That's what you said.”
“Yes.” She has a sense of deja-vu. “Arlan might be convinced he can catch everything by repeatedly reviewing the same memory but he won't. Karl and I definitely spot things he doesn't.”
“But Karl isn't around any more, neither is Arlan.”
“What?” She feels hollow from the news, the sense of loss. Like she had when she first heard the diagnosis. She knows they're gone. How could she have forgotten?
“Are you okay, Doctor [Elise]?”


(The problem with this is I'm trying to portray a mind that's on the edge, and I don't know if it works)