![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Sitting around waiting for my sister to get the fuck out of the shower so we can go to the mall (Black Friday shopping, ahoy), I managed to get a shred of writing done. Not for TSA (bad Enna!) but at this point I'm happy to have had inspiration to write anything.
Since sharing writing seems to be the modus operandi for November, here it is for you fine fellows to peruse.
They walked quickly, not looking back. Though Ivy wanted badly to break into a run, and imagined Roland felt the same, neither of them quite dared. The footing was too unsure; besides that, to Ivy running was equivalent to admitting she was afraid. Which of course she was, but with Roland a hair’s breadth from panic, one of them had to keep their head.
When they reached the end of the hall, Ivy risked a glance over her shoulder. What she saw was not encouraging: the skeletons, though brittle and yellowed with age, seemed able to manage a good turn of speed, and were less than twenty feet behind them. She grabbed Roland’s hand and pulled him around the corner, not caring now if running meant conceding that she was frightened. If he wasn’t scared too, there was something wrong with him.
The brighter light of the naphtha lamps in the main corridor flickered encouragement not fifty feet ahead. Ivy sprinted toward them, dragging Roland along, the two of them kicking up great sprays of scummy water. Behind them, the clicking and shuffling of the skeletons shambling after them motivated them to run faster.
Beside her, Roland cried out and tumbled to the damp flagstones. His hand slipped from Ivy’s grip, the sudden loss nearly sending her to the ground as well. She recovered her balance and dashed back to his side, pulling at his arms in an attempt to get him back to his feet. “Come on, Roland, they’re not far behind us!”
“Tell me something I don’t know!” he moaned as he tried to stand. Just as he regained his footing, the terrible noise came again, this time directly before them. Ivy threw herself to the ground and covered her head as dust and chunks of rock flew everywhere, choking back a scream. Roland flung himself across her, whether in a misguided heroic attempt to shield her from the explosion or by accident, Ivy didn’t know.
She was unsurprised by now to see another group of skeletons lumber out of the newly yawning fissure. Horrified, but unsurprised.
Getting back to her feet, she jerked Roland upright, relieved to see he was unhurt. A glance back the way they’d come added to her rapidly rising terror. The first group of skeletons had rounded the corner and was shuffling toward them, their bony arms reaching blindly toward her.
“Earth save us,” Roland whispered. “What the hell are we going to do now, Ivy?”
She didn’t know, but didn’t say so, because she had to know. Roland wasn’t going to get them out of this, which meant she damn well had better. But she was damned if she could see how.
As she thought about it, Roland took action. Bending down, he snatched up a chunk of stone and let fly at one of the skeletons. His aim wasn’t spectacular, but the rock connected with the skeleton’s pelvis, knocking it to the ground in a clatter of bones and taking with it the skeleton directly behind it. Ivy glanced at him in surprised admiration. “Nice shot.”
“Thanks,” he replied, hefting another stone. This time he was less lucky—the rock went wide, whizzing past one perfectly clean skull. The skeletons continued to advance, but when a third rock hit one of their number directly in the jaw, the group paused briefly, whatever rudimentary intelligence they possessed cautioning them.
Roland seemed to have the newer group well in hand, so Ivy turned to face the skeletons coming up on them from the rear.
I'm not 100% on all the phrasing, but getting it down felt good. I'll fix it in the second draft, forty years from now.
I hope everyone who celebrates it had a lovely Thanksgiving; I know I did.
Since sharing writing seems to be the modus operandi for November, here it is for you fine fellows to peruse.
They walked quickly, not looking back. Though Ivy wanted badly to break into a run, and imagined Roland felt the same, neither of them quite dared. The footing was too unsure; besides that, to Ivy running was equivalent to admitting she was afraid. Which of course she was, but with Roland a hair’s breadth from panic, one of them had to keep their head.
When they reached the end of the hall, Ivy risked a glance over her shoulder. What she saw was not encouraging: the skeletons, though brittle and yellowed with age, seemed able to manage a good turn of speed, and were less than twenty feet behind them. She grabbed Roland’s hand and pulled him around the corner, not caring now if running meant conceding that she was frightened. If he wasn’t scared too, there was something wrong with him.
The brighter light of the naphtha lamps in the main corridor flickered encouragement not fifty feet ahead. Ivy sprinted toward them, dragging Roland along, the two of them kicking up great sprays of scummy water. Behind them, the clicking and shuffling of the skeletons shambling after them motivated them to run faster.
Beside her, Roland cried out and tumbled to the damp flagstones. His hand slipped from Ivy’s grip, the sudden loss nearly sending her to the ground as well. She recovered her balance and dashed back to his side, pulling at his arms in an attempt to get him back to his feet. “Come on, Roland, they’re not far behind us!”
“Tell me something I don’t know!” he moaned as he tried to stand. Just as he regained his footing, the terrible noise came again, this time directly before them. Ivy threw herself to the ground and covered her head as dust and chunks of rock flew everywhere, choking back a scream. Roland flung himself across her, whether in a misguided heroic attempt to shield her from the explosion or by accident, Ivy didn’t know.
She was unsurprised by now to see another group of skeletons lumber out of the newly yawning fissure. Horrified, but unsurprised.
Getting back to her feet, she jerked Roland upright, relieved to see he was unhurt. A glance back the way they’d come added to her rapidly rising terror. The first group of skeletons had rounded the corner and was shuffling toward them, their bony arms reaching blindly toward her.
“Earth save us,” Roland whispered. “What the hell are we going to do now, Ivy?”
She didn’t know, but didn’t say so, because she had to know. Roland wasn’t going to get them out of this, which meant she damn well had better. But she was damned if she could see how.
As she thought about it, Roland took action. Bending down, he snatched up a chunk of stone and let fly at one of the skeletons. His aim wasn’t spectacular, but the rock connected with the skeleton’s pelvis, knocking it to the ground in a clatter of bones and taking with it the skeleton directly behind it. Ivy glanced at him in surprised admiration. “Nice shot.”
“Thanks,” he replied, hefting another stone. This time he was less lucky—the rock went wide, whizzing past one perfectly clean skull. The skeletons continued to advance, but when a third rock hit one of their number directly in the jaw, the group paused briefly, whatever rudimentary intelligence they possessed cautioning them.
Roland seemed to have the newer group well in hand, so Ivy turned to face the skeletons coming up on them from the rear.
I'm not 100% on all the phrasing, but getting it down felt good. I'll fix it in the second draft, forty years from now.
I hope everyone who celebrates it had a lovely Thanksgiving; I know I did.
no subject
no subject
I feel really shitty criticising since I'm a complete stranger (a stranger who adores your work, but a stranger nonetheless), but one thing jumped out at me that I thought I could offer a suggestion.
"Ivy threw herself to the ground and covered her head as dust and chunks of rock flew everywhere, choking back a scream."
The ordering is a little confusing, as it almost sounds like the flying rock was choking back a scream. Everything else is perfect, just fiddling with it so the choking is in connection with Ivy would be much more effective.
Douchey critique aside, it's a very good piece! Your writing makes me envious, it reads so naturally and elegantly.
no subject
no subject
no subject
That being said though, I never got the impression you'd be that personality type so I'm glad to see I wasn't wrong.
Again, lovely writing. Can we look forward to more TSA soonish? I discovered it quite late but got hooked instantly.
no subject
Yes and no. There's loads more of TSA written, but since I don't have a computer with the capability to run Sims, I can't update the thing. It's first on my list of sim-related things to do once I can, though.