Daily Excerpt Post

[littlepretender.livejournal.com]

Welcome to day 3, writers!!! Post your favorite lines/scenes/etc. of the day here!

Comments

[fenrischained.livejournal.com]

He stopped laughing just as suddenly as he’d begun, although his grin remained, made worse by the broad, vertical scar which picked up his lip and twisted it oddly when he smiled. “Thou dostn’t know who I am, dost thou, Hadiqah?”

“A man without respect,” Roshan replied levelly, looking up at him. “And as the poet has said, a man without respect is a man with nothing. I don’t care who thou art, what thou art called, or what greatness thou aspirest to. Leave this place, or I shall have thee hunted down like a dog.”

“A dog.” The red-haired man laughed again. Instinctively, although I neither trusted her nor wished to protect her, I stepped between the princess and what looked likely to turn into, at the very least, a bloody scuffle. “Oh, that’s original. What happened to the Hadiqah reputation for poetry? I’m no dog, boy. I’m a bear, and the hounds you send after me will end up running back with their tails between their legs. I'm the one the mountain folk call the Lann-Diabhal ag Seachran Briseadh agus Stiorm, the roving blade-demon of battle and storm, and I go where I please. So, please, send as many men as thou wilt after me. I could use the exercise.”

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

wow.

not only is the language fabulous, he is sexy as hell. >.>

[fenrischained.livejournal.com]

Haha, thank you.

(Assuming you're referring to the red-haired man, and not Roshan: it is worth noting that he's in his late fifties and may not actually be a he. Not that that precludes sexiness. :p)

[tehexile]

When he turned it on and didn’t see the ‘Sega’ logo, he tried all the obvious cures – turning it on and off, laying it on a flat surface, changing the batteries, screaming at the top of his voice at it – then opened up the back of the console with a screwdriver. Fine manipulation of small electronic devices proved to be a difficult task when you were sleep deprived, overcaffeinated and working from an unreliable-looking web page called ‘how 2 fix game gear lol’. After five minutes, he lost a screw, then stabbed himself with the screwdriver and pulled the chair on top of himself trying to look for the screw. He realised that he had probably done more harm than good, then shoved the whole mess to one side and played on his Saturn to calm his nerves. He might have a few screws loose – literally, today – but he wasn’t stupid enough to spend so long trying to fix a games console that he forgot to actually play any games.

((I love my dreamer character. His name is Cass - short for Lucas, but he will later find out that his dream-name is Cassiel, after the Angel of Saturn, because his spirit games console is a Sega Saturn. ))

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

hehehe, sounds like me trying to fix, well... anything!

[blackestpitch.livejournal.com]

Hahaha, loving the reference. :)

[jamiecullum.livejournal.com]

“That’s the thing about time travel. There will be times when you will be disappointed because of what you see, and times where you will get a rush. It is always good going into it with an open mind and not expect anything. It is surprising that a lot of the future is much like it is today, and this disappoints a lot of people because they expect flying cars and what not. It’s mostly has cleaner air, a healthier life style, diseases cured, and latest technologies,” Mason said. “Now this time, I’d like you two to go back in time. Pick a time and a place, and stay a little longer. Get a feel of where you are at, and what you are doing there. Blend in a little. Bring back something small like an article of clothing, food, or a stick something that wouldn’t make a huge impact on the future.”

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

holy crow, this definitely has my curiosity!

[jamiecullum.livejournal.com]

thank you! i'm having a lot of fun writing it.

Fantasy: The Dragon Alliance

[ahavah]

I'd love feedback on this! It's the 2nd half of Ch. 2, and I wonder if maybe I should have started with this scene. I'd need to flesh it out to describe his (truly awful) cell a bit better in this passage, but I'd like thoughts on that idea. Would this work as a good hook/opening scene? I'm not sure I need the exposition and alone-cell-time that I have before this. Thanks!

*
It was two weeks later before Queen Udine finally came to see him. By Ravi's reckoning, he'd been imprisoned – unjustly – for at least a month, perhaps more. It galled him, but he swallowed it down and bowed when the queen entered his cell, though her presence made his stomach knot up. He should have been cleaned and summoned to her. She obviously wanted to gloat over his condition.

She seemed to be waiting for him to say something, but she was far too late for that. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, his mother finally greeted him. A flicker of aggravation flared briefly in her eyes before she gazed earnestly at him and shook her head. “Ravi. Oh, son, it pains me to see you like this.”

“I suppose that's why you waited so long to visit?”

The queen sighed. “We were both angry. The guards feared that my presence here would only upset you worse. And,” she added pointedly, “I'd heard that there was some sort of trouble with the other prisoners. It seemed wise to let things calm first.”

Ravi stood impassive, holding her gaze but doing his best to keep the ire from his own eyes. “Did you really think I needed so long to gain control? Well, I'm definitely calm now. I've had a lot of time to think.”

“And?”

Ravi shrugged. “You've made your position clear. You've made my position clear.”

Queen Udine tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly. “I've always made myself quite clear, Ravi.”

“Yes, well. I mistakenly thought that I would be choosing my own path when I reached my majority. My place has been firmly put. I've had a lot of time to think about it. I'll become a Tradesmaster or a Llamamaster.”

The queen closed her eyes. “Ravi, there's so much hostility in you.” She opened them again, her hazel eyes glaring. “You can't speak as you did. You're lucky no one heard you but me. You mustn't blaspheme the gods, and you can't break the Treaty of Peace. Swear it.”

He ground his teeth as he struggled not to raise his voice with her. He'd lost enough weight that his pants had to be tied up with twine, and his only fire was kept in a little tripod the size of a fruit bowl. “It was never my intention to blaspheme the gods, and you should have very well known that. I happen to think honoring them in the old ways, seeking their guidance and embracing our birthright, could very well bring them back. We – who if not us, mother? – would use magic wisely, to honor the gods and all their creation.”

Udine's lips pressed thin. “Ravi, we took an oath. We honor it. Everyone honors it.”

Ravi swallowed. “Yes. And I will. I certainly don't think it's the wise thing to do, but do it I will do it.”

The queen sniffed and turned, her red and gold robes swirling at her feet as she headed for the door. “Mother,” Ravi said, keeping his voice even, “I said I'll do it. I swear by star and by stone, by all that is holy, I don't - and I won't - blaspheme the gods. I won't break the treaty. I'll abandon a passion which, I truly believe, may very well come from the gods themselves, and I'll take a nice, safe nobleman's path.” His mother turned, her face darkening, but he held up his hand and gestured at the room. “Look, all I want to do is get out of here. Marry Linnea and set up our own home. Elsewhere,” he added stiffly. “But I'll not break any laws. I'll not shame anybody, you nor the gods. I'll pick a trade, be the best that I can at it, even if it's not the path I would have chosen. I'll have Linnea, a family, maybe a few stables. That's all I want at this point.”

“So hostile.” She shook her head, her lips pressed tightly once again. “This is how it's going to be between us?” Ravi said nothing. “All right then. On your oath.”

Ravi closed his eyes after she left, cracking his fingers as he resisted the urge to hit the walls. Only his mother incited such frustration in him. The Queen of Wisdom had lost her way long ago.

Re: Fantasy: The Dragon Alliance

[fenrischained.livejournal.com]

I think you're right - this would be a good hook. But I haven't seen what else you've done, plus I would suggest that this kind of change (changing the ordering of stuff, or deleting what you've done) is best saved for after NaNo's over.

Re: Fantasy: The Dragon Alliance

[ahavah]

Thanks so much! Right on, December is for editing. I'm redoing my novel from last year, which started with their actual fight before he was imprisoned. I'm having trouble settling on a good starting point. Now I'm thinking I just need to skip all that stuff, get him out of town and on his way to the dragon, and maybe I can get the same stuff with less info dump along the way. But for now, every word definitely counts.

[blackestpitch.livejournal.com]

“I need to tell you about Marlowe.” Her name made him visibly wince. Well, if Teddy and Lulu knew about Margo’s big and bad older sister, then it would make sense he would too. Did he ever tell Margo? “Because this might come and bite us both in the ass. And it’s kind of…personal.”

Personal? Mr. Jove Crowley was about to tell me something personal? For fucking real? I felt like the heavens suddenly opened up, sun rays shining down and then naked cherubs with pink butt cheeks fluttered around in retard baby wings, blowing in their Jesus trumpets.

Oh, it was definitely something personal because with the expression he was giving me, it almost looked like he’d prefer to eat vomit from a bowl than to tell me this.

But how did his personal life overlap with Margo’s sister? I wiggled in my bar stool, turned slightly to face him more with my drink occupying my hand. I was an eager beaver, waiting with brief patience.

He rolled his eyes at me and my disgustingly obvious excitement, and then his face turned serious.

Oh, this was going to be good. I could feel it.

Jove sighed heavily, running his hands up his face, into his hair and considerably loosening his ponytail. His eyes avoided me and wouldn’t leave his drink. “The best way that I can say it, is…Marlowe and I…were sort of…an item. A long, long time ago.”

I chose a bad time to drink, because I just spit it out onto his lap. He jumped, surprised and a little grossed out because now it looked like he had pissed himself, but I was too busy fretting over the fact that my fucking man-thing told me he used to date my boss’ motherfucking older sister.

This information was good and juicy in the most terrible fucking way possible.

“And you’re telling me this NOW?!” My voice boomed through the lounge, earning dozens of stairs and looks of alarm from the bartenders. Gritting his teeth, Jove told me to calm the fuck down and raised his hands to signify that I needed to shut the fuck up. Sure, okay, I get it. Attracting unwanted attention was a negative, but how the fuck would he expect me to react to something like that? Did Margo know that she was friends with a guy that possibly did her older sister?

“Margo doesn’t know,” he hissed, his voice hushed and quiet, making himself an example of how low our voices should be in the conversation. Suddenly I questioned if this hotel lounge was appropriate for this kind of conversation because all I wanted to do was yell. “She knows Marlowe’s in town. I’m sure that’s why she disappeared the other day, to see if she could track her. I’m pretty sure she came out empty-handed. Marlowe will only make herself known when she wants to be found.”

That’s all the information I needed to know. I understood what Teddy meant now, when he said I had something that used to be hers. Something she wanted back.

It was Jove.

She wasn’t here for the war. She didn’t want anything else to do with anyone here, unless they got into her way. She wanted Jove back.

[c3childs.livejournal.com]

There was actually very little information about Raven, less than one would expect of a twenty year old college student majoring in Photography and working on her Bachelor’s; apparently, she’d started early. Jason knew enough about faking a trail to tell that her school, work, medical, banking and birth records, as well as her social security number were fake. It was impressive to be sure, but a complete work of fiction. And an expensive one too.
Interesting as that was, Jason wasn’t being paid to speculate or even find out who Raven Roth actually was or wasn’t. After skimming through for several hours, Jason finally took his much deserved shower. Wearing sweat pants, he went into his kitchen and poured out the old, stale coffee in the pot to make a fresh pot.
He was twelve the first time he had coffee. Batman and Robin had been tracking down the Penguin across Europe for almost a week, with hours long stakeouts and public appearances of Bruce Wayne and his ward Jason Todd, leaving little time for sleep. When they returned to the states, Jason had – cruelly, in his opinion and insanely – been expected to go to school and not fall asleep. Alfred had taken pity and allowed him a small cup, though of course not the same toxic stuff he served to Bruce who was well adapted to the ridiculous brew. Jason’s coffee had been watered down with sugar and cream, but it had still left him wired and with a definite addiction. Eventually, he decided that he’d grown out of using sweetener and started to drink it black. Like Bruce.

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

Note: Hunter (the male protagonist) tends to call Skylar "Dorothy" as a Wizard of Oz reference. :)

----------

Her companion took a few steps into the clearing, then let out a long, high-pitched, trilling whistle. After a short pause, he repeated the sound, and Skylar flinched uncomfortably as it made the Bitters scream louder, their horrible cries making her wince. She barely noticed, at first, the smooth form that rose from its crouch on the cabin roof. It wasn't until it stretched the long, thin wings on its back and dropped silently to the ground that she really saw it, and stared in awe as a pair of glowing emerald orbs - the creature's eyes - approached them. It stopped about ten feet from the treeline and stretched again, and though she couldn't clearly see anything more than its silhouette, it was clear that it was some sort of large cat, easily mistaken for perhaps a lion or a cougar if not for the fifteen foot wingspan.

"This is Creed," the man told her. "You don't leave base unless he's on watch, you understand?" He leaned over and picked up a thick piece of fallen wood from the ground and hefted it against his hand. "Think you can run?"

"To the cabin?" she asked.

"I can't imagine wanting to run anywhere else right now."

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to be the slightest bit -"

"Running with your feet, Dorothy. Not your mouth."

Skylar bristled, her temper flaring despite her normally impeccable self-control, and she found herself taking a step toward him with every intention to drill her fist into his face. One step was all she managed, however, before the piece of wood he held lightly thumped her chest, resting on her sternum.

"Listen, girl," he said softly. "You're only alive because Daniel wants you alive. It would be a real shame to go back there and tell him the Bitters got you first." He tilted his head, and even without being able to see his face, she could feel his eyes burning into her. "Are we clear?"

Her mind raced. This man wasn't Daniel? How was that even possible? The wolves, the Bitters, even the odd lion-thing could easily be explained, but a fully developed avatar that wasn't the owner of the mindstate? It didn't make sense - she'd never seen anything like it.

"Then who are -" she began without thinking.

"Are. We. Clear?" he repeated, thumping the piece of wood against her chest with each word.

"I... yes. Yes, we're clear."

"Then you better start running." As if on cue, the Bitters let out a new chorus of screams, and the sheer proximity was enough to get her moving. She sprinted out of the trees and into the clearing - the cat was immediately beside her, its paws thudding heavily against the ground. She was only halfway, however, when she slowed and turned, realizing that her companion hadn't joined her.

[femme-slash-fan.livejournal.com]

LMFAO 'Dorothy' I love it.

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

hehehe yay! the Dorothy reference totally came out of nowhere. i was trying to think of something for Hunter to call her that was... not friendly, but not rude? he pretty much never calls her by name.

[starsandauras]

So he did the only thing he really could do in this case. He reached down for her hand that held the rosary and matched his fingers to hers, counting the beads along with her. He hadn’t done it in centuries, having turned into one of the “Christmas and Easter” Catholics long, long ago, but Brigid knew what she was about, the rote drilled into her memory to the point that sometimes he’d caught her fingering at air as though she was praying it on an invisible strand in moments of stress, wondering if she even realized she did it. He followed her fingers then, trusting her to not steer him wrong, looking up and away from her, willing the burn he was starting to feel in his eyes to go away.

[meketserqet.livejournal.com]

oh my goodness... this is gorgeous. this is absolutely gorgeous.

i love the phrase "Christmas and Easter Catholic".

[starsandauras]

Well thank you! I actually finished the fic that this belongs to today. I'm just sad something so pretty has to be part of something so heartbreaking.

It's a wonderful phrase, isn't it?