Check in: Friday 25th May

[lullabymoon]

How did your writing go today? 

Poll #10611

Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 13

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Today I...

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wrote
5 (38.5%)

edited
4 (30.8%)

posted
4 (30.8%)

researched
2 (15.4%)

did something else fic related
4 (30.8%)

did nothing fic related
3 (23.1%)

1 being rubbish and 10 being awesome, how do you feel about your writing today?

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Mean: 4.91 Median: 5 Std. Dev 2.84

1		2 (18.2%)
2		1 (9.1%)
3		1 (9.1%)
4		1 (9.1%)
5		1 (9.1%)
6		1 (9.1%)
7		2 (18.2%)
8		1 (9.1%)
9		0 (0.0%)
10		1 (9.1%)

Since it's friday, lets have out snippet/ask for beta/gripe post. How was your week in general? 

Comments

[roane]

The week wasn't bad. I TECHNICALLY haven't posted yet today, but I'm just waiting for a second look from one of my betas and then I'll be posting the next chapter. Whee! Scary to think I'm over halfway through with this story now. Four more chapters (and possibly an epilogue) to go! Drafted word count is currently just over 40,000 words. Phew. :)

Annnnd, a snippet from today's chapter. Short backstory: Pull the Stars from the Sky is a Sherlock AU where Sherlock is a rock star, John, still ex-military, is his tour manager, and there's a problem with a stalker roaming about.

**************************************
"John, the photos—"

"I know." He breathed out through his nose, mouth a thin line. "Might've used a telephoto lens, but it doesn't look like it. The fucker was right behind me. And I missed it. Look. This was after the show in Seattle. Which means he was right behind you, and I fucking missed it." John dropped the photo and pushed past Sherlock to pace the room. "How could I have missed that?" He stopped pacing and reached for his phone. "Fuck this. We need more security. Harry can goddamn well eat the cost. The alternative is not acceptable."

"John—"

"What."

"You don't have to do this alone."

"You don't get it, do you." John stood still, mobile still in his hand. "This is what I am trained to do. And I failed. This sodding lunatic got close enough to touch you."

"But he didn't."

"Because we got lucky. Fuck that." John threw his mobile onto the bed. "No more after-show appearances. You go from the hotel to the green room to the stage and back again. If I get any sense that something is off, we cancel the show."

"John."

John whirled on him, eyes blazing. "If anything is off, you're not leaving the bloody hotel room. No more interviews, no more—"

"John." Sherlock stepped over and took him by the shoulders. "You say you have a job to do. Well so do I. You have to let me do it."

"I can't—" John lowered his head, hands clenching and unclenching as he half-turned away. "I can't fail someone else." He refused to meet Sherlock's eyes.

[crowdog66]

So much delicious tension -- and the brink of a moment of revelation! :D I could practically hear the air hissing and crackling with John's outrage.

[roane]

Thanks! I really really really love John as a character, especially when he gets pissy and protective. He's a lot of fun to write then.

[crowdog66]

I haven't written anything yet today -- between work, depression and exhaustion it's hard to get a head of steam going -- but I have a short story on the back burner that might be ready to put on the plate sometime this afternoon or this evening.

It was a slow week in general because I'd gone to a sci-fi convention last weekend and thoroughly tired myself out. Because I missed the snippet post on that occasion and because I don't have much suitable ready for this week, I'm going to cheat and post a snippet from a Lethe!verse fic that got put up on AO3 on May 15th, entitled "Kiss", which is the follow-up to a shorter piece, "Roar".

The backstory: Bob, the lead character, has taken an arrow to his upper right arm in a successful attack on a slave labour camp. He managed to free the slaves, but is now in the process of getting the wound treated back in town -- more precisely, in Megabyte's suite of rooms at the Prancing Thivar Inn.

****************************************

Beside Bob's left hand stood an empty brass goblet which had, only three minutes earlier, been full of cheap red wine laced with a painkiller: at Lorvann's insistence he'd drunk it all with a grimace — after having Glitch scan it to verify its contents — and he was already beginning to feel its effects creeping in around the edges of his mind. "A nice clean wound," the Healer was saying in the soothing lilt that all physicians seemed to adopt while treating patients, "no debris or tearing of the flesh, no sign of ballista or poison." Her voice blended nicely with the background hum of the medication, and Bob's eyelids were starting to feel heavy. "You'll be right as a quina in two days, with treatment morning and evening. It was a lucky thing, turning when you did."

"I doubt he appreciates that," Megabyte remarked, still gazing out at the darkness.

"I do," Bob insisted, catching himself with a start as his head began to nod. "I just… you didn't have to kill all of them."

"And what would you have suggested I do instead?" the virus demanded. Bob would have sworn that he was keeping his eyes averted from the blood rather than scanning the street for possibly enemy action… but this was Megabyte, who had recently torn a score of men literally to pieces with evident pleasure. "Politely requested that they not fire upon you as you approached the gate? Perhaps offered them a refreshing cup of tea and some —"

"Okay, okay, I get the point." And he did, as much as he disliked it: the archers on the wall had to be dealt with, and Megabyte had taken them all out of commission by sowing such confusion and terror in their ranks that they hadn't spared a second's attention for Bob and the other warriors running toward the camp... still, he couldn't get the images out of his mind, of how the usually poised and restrained catlana (for Megabyte was still a scholar, even now) had used his claws and his newly revealed teeth to scythe through the enemy like a demon out of a night tale.

What he liked even less was how he found himself dwelling on the memories, replaying every graceful movement and beautifully lethal attack. Or how those memories seemed to settle into his flesh as well as his brain, burning with their own traitorous and sensual fire.

Or how he ripped them apart because one of them took a shot at me — and hit. Damned twisty bastard, worming his way into my...

He was having trouble keeping his right arm extended and steady at the same time; Lorvann gently guided his hand to rest on his thigh and went on working, chanting a quick phrase in a language Bob didn't recognize as she manipulated the auric field around the wound, setting a chain of accelerated healing in motion. In the back of Bob's mind Glitch emitted a questioning chirp before falling silent again; Bob braced his left elbow on the table and settled his chin in the palm of that hand, and fought the urge to close his eyes. "What'd you just give me, anyway?"

[crowdog66]

Oh, and I ended up writing a smutty little ~1600 word Leth!verse piece, "Restraint", which I'm fairly pleased with. :)

[electric_butterfly]

I have nothing but a snippet from the Dragon Quest 8 fic. Needs editing, to do that, I'd need to finish Chapter one.

------

"You look like you're in dire need of discipline."

Hyacinth froze. Hell, every one in the party froze. Even those around them froze. Hyacinth could have sworn that the water fountain turned into ice. He knew that voice, that distinctive and oddly accented voice, and if he didn't, then Angelo certainly did.

"I knew it," Angelo whispered. "Goddess, I knew it..."

All four of them slowly, but surely turned, and they all "knew it".

Marcello stood before them, his hood pushed back, revealing his raven black hair and those eyes...Hyacinth helplessly looked away from those piercing absinthe colored eyes. He would never forget those eyes and how they seemed to pierce through every soul he met. Hyacinth barely even noticed the tall bald man and beautiful woman that flanked Marcello.

"Hyacinth!" Angelo hissed between his teeth.

Hyacinth looked back up, back at those eyes, and felt his stomach drop. He couldn't even open his mouth, much less ask any questions. Angelo and Jessica never took their eyes off the enemy trio, but neither said a word.

Marcello stepped forward. "I have a proposal for you."

[linaewen]

I have managed to tear myself away from Real Life and the internet and I have begun writing. It's only 52 words so far, but the chapter has begun, and I think I shall be able to continue now.

After checking in, I'm going to close my browser and leave the internet alone again! It's the only way I'll get anything done. ;-)

[gramarye1971]

This week wasn't good for writing, since some rather depressing RL news put the kibosh on my creativity for most of it. But I managed to scrape out a few lines to finish off the next section of my World War I fic-fill, so now I've got my main character out of the trench and into the field hospital for treatment:

**************

Abruptly, the cool damp cloth was whisked away, and the first thing he saw when his eyes flew open was a strange woman's face, framed by the white cap that completely covered her hair. She was talking to him, saying words that he couldn't quite understand, but when she bent over him he was able to follow her movement with his eyes --

-- and that was one dislocated left shoulder. Right out of the socket, by the look of it.

His breath was still coming short, so he gritted his teeth and did his best to grin up at the nurse hovering over him. Her eyes were wide with concern, and he wanted to tell her that it wasn't anything to worry about, that he could pop the old joint back into place himself in a jiffy, but the words didn't seem to want to come out of his mouth. Not in any way that made sense, at least. His first attempt was nothing more than a weak moan; his second attempt sounded like gibberish. And he was all prepared to make a third attempt, because he knew that he had the right words in him somewhere, but his head hurt, and his chest hurt, and his arm hurt, and it was so much easier to just lie still and close his eyes again and not say anything at all.

[bay_alexison]

Looked over a kinkmeme piece I wrote and did some changes, but not totally sure if it fits the prompt well. I'm most likely going to let my beta read it and see what he says.

This week has been mostly spend on editing Chapter Six of my FMA Big Bang, lol. But I'm glad to have that done and over it for the most part (watch me go and edit again someday, haha). I'm pretty surprise both Beta A and Beta B really like the chapter's ending, haha.

[lilly_c]

This week has been pretty good writing wise and also in RL. I got two new SVU ficlets finished, they still need posting and I also got a new blog post on personal heroes finished and started researching for another blog post on body image.

Have used some the morning to go over my outline for het_bigbang and work out the best approach to use for the Casey/Elliot dynamic post attack. Using the timeline from Night for the fic because I love the ep and for some reason haven't got any fics at all from that ep.