Posts Tagged writing

2nd draft [partim] – Atligili

Oct 25

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Previous part of second draft || Full first draft

It was a gorgeous alligator suit, the kind that inflates around you and makes you look like a big shiny pool toy when you’re wearing it. Just then, though, I thought it looked kind of sad, stuffed in its box all rumpled like it was. I never did put it away properly… after the last time, when the thing’s hunger had faded and I was in control again, I hadn’t taken any chances: I’d hid it away as quickly as I could.

It was a shame to mistreat something so valuable. I figured I ought to at least fold it up properly.

When I picked it up, though, I knew I was trapped again.

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2nd draft [partim] – …and thou

Oct 22

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Another brief revision fragment of this following on from here.

The third stall wasn’t selling fruit; it shaded an elderly wolf lady sitting on a halı, surrounded by racks of bottles. She sniffed the air as he approached.

“Come for juice, young wolf?”

He smiled and sat down in front of her.

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1st draft [partim] – Shine.

Oct 20

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Yeah, so I decided to continue on from my last Shine scrap and see if I could make a proper story out of it.

Jan was no longer the scrawny fox he had been when I’d first met him; a few weeks of eating with me had him up to looking healthy. It didn’t look like he’d be sporting a paunch like mine anytime soon, though.

“All right,” I said, “Let’s get out of here.”

We went down to the street and headed to the subway station. People shaded their eyes as we went by. I ignored them; not fifteen minutes ago they’d’ve been doing the same for the sunset, and my light’d be past them just as quickly.

Jan sat across from me on the subway car. I saw my light in his eyes.

“You don’t hafta sit there, you know,” I said.

“What, and let someone else enjoy this view?”

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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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