There haven't been prompts for the past couple weeks, but I haven't been shirking the writing. I have been grabbing some Halloween prompts and using those. Mostly in an effort to work on my short story skills, I have been writing stories nearly entirely in the one class I help out with.
It's been a fun exercise in trying to have snippets of life rather than big plots. I wrote one on supernatural beings hiding in plain sight on Halloween. (And then realized I maybe want to revisit that universe later.) Another on the Greek Fates in modern day. And then today I finally planned out a scene I have been stressing about in my Merlin story. Oh and I wrote one about a ghost in the tunnels. That was last week. This week's snippet is from that story.
Favourite writing from this week:
Karen jotted down the part number and walked to the storage tunnel entrance. She grabbed a torch from the shelf and entered her ID. The keypad lit up green, she pushed open the door, and entered the tunnel.
Now she was sure that she could hear the Thames. She didn’t like it. It was too close. Part K332. She had a ways to go in the tunnel. The further she walked, the less she liked it.
Every step echoed. A...B... Her torch beam was the only light available. C...D... The walls felt like they were getting closer. E...F... She tried humming a song, but the bounced noises were worse. G...H...
Something furry brushed her leg and she lept away with a gasp, dropping her light in surprise. It went out.
“Who is responsible for designing that?” she asked of the darkness.
She didn’t expect the darkness to reply.
18 Oct 2017
3 Oct 2017
Fix it and long fics
Prompt: A character rips something they are wearing.
I used this as an excuse to write the fix-it fic for Kingsman 2. I won't spoil it yet, but if you wish to avoid, don't read the writing section.
I also decided for sure that my nano will be just continuing my Merlin fic, Twin Tales. I have no ideas for another story at the moment. I haven't done enough editing on last year's fic to write the sequel yet. And I really want to get TT finished before 2019. It's a long one and I would prefer to finish it before I start posting it. Granted, my library books are also due in 7 days and I have not finished them. So maybe I should read a bit more than write next week.
Favourite writing from this week:
A snippet:
She looked out the window. The fireball was coming for her. Fuck. Instinctually she dove across her room and leapt into the tub. She barely had time to activate her distress signal before the bomb hit.
She felt the floor drop out from under her. She fell. And kept falling. Hands over her head, she couldn't say for sure, but she assumed the entire mansion was plummeting into the earth.
She slammed into the hard porcelain. Then the ceiling slammed into her. Bits of tile and dirt rained down around her. She felt a rumble and then something else fell, knocking her unconscious.
When Roxy next woke, it was to a growling stomach. She rolled over, habitually reaching for her phone, but immediately realised she couldn't move. Opening her eyes, she could barely see in front of her. She remembered the explosion.
Twisting, she positioned herself to try to shove the rubble on top of her with her back. It wasn't easy, but soon she moved it enough to crouch and push the rest off. Looking around, she recognised the grey walls of the underground tunnels. She really had fallen far. And the mansion was clearly in no liveable condition anymore.
She carefully walked to the remains of her room that had fallen into the underground tunnels. The old oak furniture had proved remarkably resilient, protecting the contents of her wardrobe. She changed out of her ripped pyjamas and into proper clothes with thick soled shoes. Her computer was a wreck, as was her phone. Her lock box was in the vaults in the tunnels. It would be intact, but she didn't know if it would be accessible.
A rumble from her stomach reminded her that there were other things to look for in the tunnels first.
It was a testament of money and post-WWII paranoia that the tunnel system was nearly undamaged. Only the section directly hit by the bomb had collapsed. Once she climbed through the rubble it was almost like the explosion never happened.
Until she tried to contact Merlin. The network was dead. The bunker had switched into dark mode when the bomb was detected and she would need Merlin to reboot securely.
She hoped he and Eggsy were okay. She didn’t know if this was a multi-pronged attack. She wiped her plate into the trash and set it beside the sink. However, for now, her body was telling her she needed sleep. Tomorrow she could try some backup methods of communication.
I used this as an excuse to write the fix-it fic for Kingsman 2. I won't spoil it yet, but if you wish to avoid, don't read the writing section.
I also decided for sure that my nano will be just continuing my Merlin fic, Twin Tales. I have no ideas for another story at the moment. I haven't done enough editing on last year's fic to write the sequel yet. And I really want to get TT finished before 2019. It's a long one and I would prefer to finish it before I start posting it. Granted, my library books are also due in 7 days and I have not finished them. So maybe I should read a bit more than write next week.
Favourite writing from this week:
A snippet:
She looked out the window. The fireball was coming for her. Fuck. Instinctually she dove across her room and leapt into the tub. She barely had time to activate her distress signal before the bomb hit.
She felt the floor drop out from under her. She fell. And kept falling. Hands over her head, she couldn't say for sure, but she assumed the entire mansion was plummeting into the earth.
She slammed into the hard porcelain. Then the ceiling slammed into her. Bits of tile and dirt rained down around her. She felt a rumble and then something else fell, knocking her unconscious.
When Roxy next woke, it was to a growling stomach. She rolled over, habitually reaching for her phone, but immediately realised she couldn't move. Opening her eyes, she could barely see in front of her. She remembered the explosion.
Twisting, she positioned herself to try to shove the rubble on top of her with her back. It wasn't easy, but soon she moved it enough to crouch and push the rest off. Looking around, she recognised the grey walls of the underground tunnels. She really had fallen far. And the mansion was clearly in no liveable condition anymore.
She carefully walked to the remains of her room that had fallen into the underground tunnels. The old oak furniture had proved remarkably resilient, protecting the contents of her wardrobe. She changed out of her ripped pyjamas and into proper clothes with thick soled shoes. Her computer was a wreck, as was her phone. Her lock box was in the vaults in the tunnels. It would be intact, but she didn't know if it would be accessible.
A rumble from her stomach reminded her that there were other things to look for in the tunnels first.
It was a testament of money and post-WWII paranoia that the tunnel system was nearly undamaged. Only the section directly hit by the bomb had collapsed. Once she climbed through the rubble it was almost like the explosion never happened.
Until she tried to contact Merlin. The network was dead. The bunker had switched into dark mode when the bomb was detected and she would need Merlin to reboot securely.
She hoped he and Eggsy were okay. She didn’t know if this was a multi-pronged attack. She wiped her plate into the trash and set it beside the sink. However, for now, her body was telling her she needed sleep. Tomorrow she could try some backup methods of communication.
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