picowrimo | Day 3 (Team July)

Winding towards the close...

****
John rubs his cheek against the terrycloth-covered head again. His arm tightens across the chest and his hand tucks into the armpit on the other side searching for warmth. He closes his eyes. “Don’t be dead,” he whispers and shifts a little further back on his heels. “Not now.” John slides his other hand along the towel and under the duvet, leaning slightly forward once more. “Not ever, really.” His hand curves from the top of the thigh into the groin. He leans back a bit, then forward again, shivers under the cold weight and keeps rocking.

Lestrade’s voice carries from the sitting room. “A favour, Jean-Pierre.” There is the scrape of furniture dragging over wood. “In London, yeah…glad I could help. How quickly can you get an ID on these.” A pause. “Thanks. Yeah, I’ll wait.”

“Was he the one for me?” John whispers. He moves his head, pushes the towel aside with his chin, settles his cheek against a cold ear and keeps rocking.

“What the hell is happening to the carpet? His clothes…Christ,” John can hear Lestrade asking, feet stamping. “We’re not going to have much evidence soon.” There’s a murmur from Mike. “You know what this is? How fast does it work?”

600 words of Victorian fantasy shintoism! I'm on a roll.

As the cab drove away, Skye stared up at the temple entrance.

Round marble pillars flanked the double doors and the steps leading inside were made of the same flawless white marble. On the outside of the temple, the walls were grey and grimy from the city's fumes, but on the inside they were pannelled with polished red wood. The pillars continued on the inside, dividing the round temple hall into segments. Along the walls stood small stands selling prayer tablets, scrolls and banners and the stands near the doors sold spirit figurines and ornaments to take home or give to those in need of prayer. At the centre of the temple hall, bathing in the sunlight that fell in through the temple's oculus, stood the statues of the spirits. Some popular spirits had baskets full of prayer scrolls at their feet, while most had nails stuck in their pedestals to hang the banners or tablets on. The prayer peddlers were quiet in their dealings, the only sound in the temple was a soft murmur and the occaisional resounding of the chimes that hung around the statues.

Knowing exactly what he wanted, Skye ambled to one of the stalls and bought two banners for the crown he had in his hand. As he turned to face the spirits, he drew a deep breath. He didn't pray often, not for himself anyway. He wasn't sure if it was respect or shame that made him bow his head as his appreached the statues. He bowed, pulled the cord of a chime and snagged one banner on a nail below the statue of Lady Fortuna.

"Grant them your blessing," he mumbled.

Then he moved on and hung the other banner on the pedestal of the Storyteller. He pulled at the chime and stared up at the Storyteller's masked face.

"Grant them your blessing. They really need it today."

John is such a sensitive man, I love seeing him distress ;)

"Arthur's Quest" going on nicely. Lancelot didn't fail the test, but taht doesn't mean that his problems are over. Far from that.

Excerpt:
Lancelot shook his head. “I cannot do that to Elena. She deserves better.”

The Dame Brisen let out an impatient sigh. “How can you be so brick-headed? She doesn’t want something better. She wants you, and she does not care who else she might have to share your heart with.”

“It would be wrong, “insisted Lancelot, and the enchantress rolled her eyes.

“You are a stubborn fool. Despite your outlandish ideals, though, you should remember one thing: Princess Elena is carrying your child, a child of a prophecy. As you may never sire another heir, obsessed as you are with your future Queen, you are responsible for that child. Not only because it may be the only one carrying on your line – you will be responsible for it to fulfil its destiny.”

Lancelot found that he began to understand why Merlin seemed to hate that word so much.

Oh, this is heartbreaking!

Aww, John...

Yay for good progress!

Good description! :)

Good for Dame Brisen explaining thing to Lancelot - it sounds like he deserves it at this point!

What a pain trying to put all the bits and pieces of Breaking Glass together. I wonder if there is a neat way of working on a long story. Since I tend to write out of sequence, I have this big lumpy mess in front of me. I had a long flashback in the story, and I've decided to make it a prologue instead, it's less disruptive that way (I hope).
The snippet below is from the scene that will open the story after the prologue. Illya is playing chauffeur and has become distracted.
___________

He saw himself running up the stairs to the mezzanine of the Volksoper, brushing at his damp jacket, hearing the agitated sweep of the violins. Mozart, he recognized the first ....

There was a sudden crack and the notes in his head shattered.

"Illya."

He came to with a start and heard the noise again, louder this time.

"Illya!"

He sat up, disoriented; Vienna disappeared as Napoleon rapped sharply on the partition between chauffeur and chauffeured. He had not noticed that his passengers had gotten back into the car.

Oh, poor John and his thoughts... John's distracted awareness of what's happening in the other room gives the whole scene such immediacy, I really like the way it works.

I like that, it doesn't hurt to cover all bases to make sure he (they?) succeeds. The Storyteller seems to be an important part of this society.

When a man says she deserves better you know he's about to run :) Destiny is a harsh mistress I see, maybe he should have thought about right and wrong before he got her pregnant!

Good luck getting it all sorted out! I certainly understand - given that my current story is all over the place in terms of writing order and wholes in the plot and everything else.

Good scene - the description in the first line is great. :)

Continuing on a new scene today. Posting the next bit of yesterday's rooftop adventure for Solo on the ladder.

--
His good foot mercifully landed on a ladder step, and with trembling arms, he maneuvered himself down. The ladder creaked and swayed alarmingly against his weight, and his foot slipped. His leg plunged through the ladder works, threatening to slam the fork of his lower body onto the rung.

Yay progress!

Really vivid description of the action! :)

Well, to Lancelot's defence, he was seriously tricked. He thoguht he'd be spending a night with Gwen/Guinevere, while it was, in fact, Princess Elena, put under a transformation spell by the Dame Brisen (all canon stufff, BTW). She was supposed to have a baby with Lancelot, but Lance was so fixed on Gwen that he wouldn't knock her off otherwise, so it isn't really his fault.

Well, no wonder the poor sod is so confused. He never wanted to sleep with Elena in the first place. (As you know I'm going with the legends here, rather than with TV-canon, which is very stupid.)

Vienna is great - even as a dream or as a memory. *g*

Oh, God, I hope he gets down in one piece!

The fact that the face remains covered and the by-play with Lestrade continues in the background makes John's grief all the more haunting.

If Sherlock's dead I will be very cross :)

What beautiful description, really vivid!

She deserves better

Ouch, ouch a thousand times ouch. That is the ultimate you-are-utterly-unfuckable line to deliver regarding a woman. I got it ten years ago and even reading it still smarts.

ouch. And getting her up the pole too. I hope Lancelot has ten more fucking castles to liberate before morning. Bastard.

Oh brilliant! I love the start back to life from the daydream.

Re sorting out bits, I feel exactly the same as you do!

Oh, come ON, Napoleon! ::bites nails::

Oh, don't be so hard on poor Lancelot! As I said above, it isn't entirely his fault. He slept with her, thinking that she was someone else, after all.

Day 3 (Team July)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject