Day 4 (Team July)

[kerravonsen]

Yes, I'm butting in here to post, because it's evening of the 4th here, and there is no post! So join me in the boasting progress reports and encouragement for this day's creative work!

Comments

[kerravonsen]

And I wanted to post because despite no progress whatsoever yesterday, this evening I made a lot more progress with my craft thing, which means I'm closer to being able to get to the writing stuff. (Hooray for being able to craft while listening to podfic!)

[vilakins.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting because I actually wrote something and I want to go to bed.

I have completely lacked the will to write or even just post lately due to winter depression and stress, but today I managed about 530 words at work instead of doing something for a very annoying person who has been adding to my stress levels.



An excerpt (more about the sort-of revolution):

Avon frowned. "What do they hope to achieve?"

Tarrant shrugged. "Management takeover?"

"They found a high councillor outside shot in the back," Dayna said with relish. "In his underclothes."

Avon raised an eyebrow. "You mean he was shot in his underwear?"

"They didn't say."

I've caught up with reading here but I was so far behind I couldn't manage comments. I will try to do better but I can't promise I will.

[kerravonsen]

I love the way Dayna is relishing the mayhem. (grin)

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Good progress today, then. I like the little quip at the end.

Hope the stress abates.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Thank you for posting. Hooray for progress with the craft project. It is brilliant listening to stories while working with the hands. (Have I commented on how much I like your icon? Well said.)

[kerravonsen]

Thanks! Being creative does help keep me sane...

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Very close to the conclusion now...

***

“They weren’t dreams,” John says quietly, his fingers flexing. “You promised not to drug me again.” John curls forward. “No. You promised not to be wrong again. I knew it.” John shifts his knees apart, drops the couple inches to the floor, slowly straightens his legs and presses in with them from either side. “I know I’ve threatened to kill you.” John takes a deep breath. “Don’t let me have done it.” He frees his left hand, begins rubbing circles again. “Don’t.” John hunches his right shoulder and rocks more to the left as he leans forward. “I don’t care what you’ve done. To me, to anyone. I don’t care. I forgive it all, everything. Just don’t be dead.”

There’s a vibration under his hand, against his cheek. John’s fingers dig in.

“Ev’rything?” The sound is more croak than word, but John understands it.

“Everything,” John repeats and pauses to breath. “So far,” he adds, lifting his head slightly. “It’s not carte blanche for the future,” John clarifies. His whole body clenches to keep his voice even, but he fails on the last word, the final syllable scraping over his lips. He had almost relegated that concept to fantasy. Future.

He can feel the muscles work against his cheek.

“Oh.”

John knows that tone, disappointment. “What? You want me to forgive you in advance?” He breathes, but it isn't easy. His hands move, scrabbling a little ways, clutching wherever they stop, moving again. John pulls his head back a bit and turns to look into an eye whose colours are brighter than he remembered, the white tinged with pink, the iris iridescent.

There’s a cramp in John's chest. His eyes squeeze shut as it twists. It makes him gasp.

[kerravonsen]

Intense.

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

My sincerest apologies for the delay! I had to work today, very early in the morning, but I hoped that I could get home for an hour around 10am and post today's prompt - well, I could not. I got home less than an hour ago and had to deal with some domestic stuff before I could attack the computer.

Real Life is such a bitch sometimes.

[kerravonsen]

I hope you don't mind that I went ahead and posted...

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Jesus, this is frightening!

[saki101.livejournal.com]

RL has to be attended to! And thank you for managing this for two months!

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Nah, it's okay. Takes some of the pressure off me, and by the current temperatures over here that's a blessing.

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Oh, it's a pleasure, really. I'm just a little floored at the moment.

[wiseheart.livejournal.com]

Nothing done today and not much will be done, most likely. I'm dead and barely on my feet.

Buuut - yesterday I actually finished Chapter 14 of "Arthur's Quest" - you can read the complete chapter with all the jousting and Lancelot angst at hiddenrealms. It's the newest entry.

I also nearly finished Chapter 10 of the Torchwood fic, "Smiths & Joneses", which I hope to complete tomorrow and post as well. No excerpt today, I'm sorry. I'll just roll up in a corner and die for a while.

[kerravonsen]

There are an awful lot of Smiths and Jones in Doctor Who/Torchwood, aren't there? Martha Jones, Ianto Jones, Sarah-Jane Smith, Mickey Smith (and possibly Doctor Smith...)

Lunch pico, as will be out later tonight

[ideealisme.livejournal.com]

Still Maurice, still yelling at inner critic. Will respond to other snippets later on this eve...400 words over lunch.

A Sad Story

I was about to beat it for the afternoon when my editor Barry Kenyon joined me in the kitchen.

"Quint." He shuffled past my swinging leg and opened the refrigerator, whistling "You Can't Take That Away From Me" as he reached in for a pie. I hated when he had pie. He would heat it up then and the office would stink for hours.

I could have called him "Ken" in response. Instead I said nothing. I didn't feel like it that day.

"Oh, did you hear the news?" he said casually. "Your mate, Roma Feilding. Found dead this morning. Been that way for weeks apparently."

"No, I hadn't heard. My God, what happened? Heart attack?"

Kenyon shook his head. "Note." he said succintly.

He meant: Roma Feilding had commited suicide.

Kenyon patted me on the back. "Sorry, Maurice. I know you and she were thick together. She was a game old girl, our Romie. Could drink any of us under the table." He shut the oven door and moved off. Of course he had forgotten to preheat the thing. His pie would be indigestible.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

Very efficient use of lunch hour!

Gruesome and glib. Not liking Kenyon. Romie and Maurice must not have been that thick if he not only hadn't heard the news, but hadn't been in contact with her for weeks, so Ken is inaccurate as well, but as he thinks she and Maurice were close, his remarks grate.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Still working on the part after the prologue. It turns out that Illya may not have been having a particularly pleasant daydream about Vienna:


(Illya) moved away from the window, leaned back against the wall next to it, keeping himself in the shadows. He crossed his arms to hide the betraying twitch of his hands and tried to order his jumbled thoughts.

"Before you came back tonight, I was thinking about Semenov. About Vienna. About what happened that night. There are... things I don't remember." He could feel the subtle change in the intensity of Napoleon's attention, saw the way he leaned forward to listen, the way it took a beat for him to respond.

"It was five years ago", Napoleon said very carefully.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

Yay for crafting under pressure :) Hope you get to the writing soon!

[elmey.livejournal.com]

I wonder if she's relishing the shooting or the underwear? I hope you feel better and keep going, I always look forward to your snippets!

[elmey.livejournal.com]

It's really clear how overwhelming all of this is for John, how hard it is for him to hold himself together. In a way, I want to tell him to just run.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

This happen ;) You've done a great job so far.

[elmey.livejournal.com]

It's the "I've seen it all" old newspaperman stance. But if he forgot to heat the pie, he can't be completely unaffected after all can he.

[saki101.livejournal.com]

That's a lot accomplished! Went and read Chapter 14; I needed to find out if Lancelot made it through all the opposing knights and what was inscribed on the underside of the stone slab. I do not envy the characters their lives that are so controlled by destiny and prophecies and duties.