2nd draft [partim] – …and thou

Oct 17

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Another brief revised fragment of this story, continuing from last time.  It’s short because I spent most of the writing period trying to work out what the guy was cursing like.  I appear to have lost my sanity because I decided a walrus was appropriate.  How does a walrus swear?  Um.  He says ‘bukkit‘?

In the next stall, a raven was busy shooing children away from pyramids of melons meticulously piled, and in his frustration nearly knocked them over himself. The avian was cursing like a walrus and Kohath decided to pass him by.

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Scrap – Blake

Oct 15

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This is actually almost too small to post, but then I guess most of my scraps are.  This is sort of a new quasi-didactic project I wanted to start, and I spent most of this writing period trying to figure out who’d be involved and what they were like.  It’ll be Blake and a new character, a marten by the name of Emmett.

It was my first date with Blake. Sure, we’d hung out with friends before, run into each other on the promenade, but tonight I’d asked him out officially; he’d given me that subtle smile of his and said “Sure thing, marten.”

I was pretty nervous.

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1st draft [partim] – The day Ralph and I switched places.

Oct 6

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The previous section of this draft was posted a month ago.    This outcome is something I had not at all expected would happen, but it seems inevitable, really.   I know it ends pretty weak here; in draft it’ll be smoothed to segue better into whatever ends up happening next.

“You’re in my chemistry class, aren’t you?” he said, to the burly human in line in front of me.

Ralph’s smiles were infectious, even with my face cracking them. At least, they felt that way from the inside. The guy was not won over. “Yeah… so what?”

By the look he gave me, you’d think I was some new species of pond scum—uninteresting and distasteful.

“I just thought that—”

“I’m not interested in speaking to you,” the guy said, and turned back to face the front of the line.

Ralph turned to face the mouse girl in line behind him. “What was that about,” he said.

“Everyone knows you’re gay,” she said. “You do realize that limits your social circle, right?”

I didn’t know what people thought about me, so of course Ralph couldn’t have.

I’d like to say Ralph handled it gracefully, made a joke, and shrugged it off, but he didn’t get the chance—I took over, fled the cafeteria, and hid under some stairs in the music building, crying, for a good long time.

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1st draft [partim] – Mori

Oct 2

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The previous part of this was posted last month.  I can definitely see a few things that’ll need fixing on the second draft.

I sat on the edge and watched the golem attempt to fight off the monster ram, waving the kelvin’s spear back and forth.

The ram, for its part, seemed to have calmed down, and was watching Munk with an expression that oscillated between indifference and confusion as the spear went back and forth.

“It only wanted me, didn’t it?” I said.

The kelvin I spoke to nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the arena.

“I have to go back down there, don’t I?”

The kelvin nodded again.

“How’m I supposed to beat that thing?”

The kelvin didn’t answer.

I didn’t come prepared for this.  What’ve I got? My bare hands—but I’m a flabby alchemy geek, that won’t do me any good.

Clothes on my back; not likely to be helpful.

I have a golem, and my golem has a spear.  But my golem is inept at violence by design and the monster won’t fight it anyway.  No help there.  And flimsy alchemy geek arms wouldn’t handle a spear any better.

I have my environment.  An arena full of armed gryphons.

Right, and one unarmed gryphon.

With fire.

“May I borrow your candle?”

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2nd draft [partim] – Scott the Alchemist 3

Sep 29

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The full first draft (also NSFW) was posted at the beginning of the month.

NSFW (nudity) below cut »

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1st draft [partim] РPi̱ata

Sep 22

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You get three guesses to tell where this story’s going to go, and the first two don’t count.

It all started with a shower of confetti.

Stevens had brought a piñata to the office for my birthday party. It was enormous, almost as big as he was, and a lion, just like me.

“Saw this in a window of that party place on the corner and thought of you,” he said. “He looks just like you, don’t he? Happy birthday, lion.”

I looked it over, and it kinda did, in an exaggerated way: it didn’t look like me so much as it looked like a piñata modelled after me would look like. It was firm papier-mâché—or whatever it is they make piñatas out of these days—with ruffled paper in tawny gold all over its body in place of fur, and long orange paper streamers for its mane. “Thanks, wuff,” I said. “It’s great. Let’s hang ’im up and have a couple swings at him, eh?”

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2nd draft [partim] – Atligili

Sep 18

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I’m liking this story far more than I probably ought to.  (I posted the first draft a bit ago.)  As for this part, I’m not too sure about it.  The repetition here is sort of supposed to show the narrator’s fear is keeping him from thinking clearly, but I think I may have overdone it a bit.   Suggestions?

I looked at the costume in its box and tried to hold out against the temptation to wear it again.  I didn’t want to wear it—it wanted me to wear it.  It compelled me.  I didn’t want to wear it.  I had only worn it three times since I’d gotten it, and each time…

The fear was exciting—addictive.  I didn’t want it to be.  I didn’t want to think about it.

I knew if I thought about it, it would get into my mind again.

And if it got into my mind, I would wear the costume again.

And if I wore the costume, the monster it was would get hungry again.

And I was already running out of stuff.

But I couldn’t stop looking.  The fear was exciting—addictive.  It compelled me.

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2nd draft [partim] — …and thou

Sep 15

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Continuation from last time,  and the full first draft for those who haven’t seen it yet.  I won’t have much posted this week: much of last week’s art and writing time was spent on stuff outside the scope of this blog.

He paid two nummi for the bread and headed back out to the street, putting the loaf in his bag.  The wind brought a luxurious smell of citrus, of apples and grapes, making Kohath’s belly rumble.  Time enough for eating later, right?  No… let’s see if we can find something good. He went down to the square at the end of the street where the fruitsellers were set up.

The first stall he saw belonged to a very small tiger selling very large berries.  He picked up a raspberry the size of an orange and looked it over, somewhat impressed.

“Biggest berries in the province,” the tiger said. “I have a certificate from the general saying so.”  It was framed and hanging behind him; he seemed pretty proud of it.  “All natural, too.”

Kohath considered the fruit for a moment, then put it down.  “Maybe next time,” he said, and moved on.  New food can be hit or miss, and today was not a day for taking risks.

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Scrap – Shine

Sep 14

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This scrap is short because my writing hour was sort of cut into by a buddy who had a drama attack. I was going to explain that Jan had been getting a little tubby from having Shine-sized meals with his tiger and the two of them were going to go to Chinatown and enjoy a bunch of time on the subway.   But that’ll just have to wait now, won’t it? Remember kids, just say no to drama!  [This has been a public service message by the Committee to Make Post Descriptions Longer Than The Posts Themselves.]

I sat on the balcony with Jan and watched the sun go down over the city.  It felt like it was going to be a pretty warm night.  I took my fox’s hand and led him back through the apartment and out the front door.

“Where are we going?” he said.

“Anywhere we want.”

“How about food?”

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Scrap – Kohath

Sep 10

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I’ve been wanting to finish Kaido no Yume for a long time now.  The main problem with that plan is that I’ve already written the ending, and I’d like to find it before I start filling in the rest.  So this is just a scribble on what happens afterwards.

It was the day after that—that—

I still can’t call it a dream. It left me so… so sore, really. Inside and out. I’d been someone else for so long, and my muscles had to get used to being Kohath again.

It’d only been one night.

I wasn’t sure what to do next. I mean, obviously, back to life, such as it was. But had I learned anything? Was I supposed to have?

I stayed in bed, confused. What do you do when your life has ended but you’re still living?

I missed Iisera.

No, actually—I was grieving for it.

Couldn’t have been just a dream, then—I’m not that messed up, am I?

It’s too darn cold in here.

I wanted to stay in bed, but I couldn’t; hunger, the call of nature, and a vague feeling I was supposed to do something with my day soon forced me out of bed.

The lunar winds were still howling. I resisted the urge to chime in.

I’m a wolf, right.

Sometimes… Sometimes the wolves are silent and the moon is howling. I’d read that somewhere.

I felt like I hadn’t read anything in years.

Anyway, up. Call of nature, attended to. For hunger, a quick sandwich. And I continued to wonder what I was supposed to do with my day.

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