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Post by Kathleen on Nov 16, 2008 23:37:15 GMT -5
Right then. I will make 30k tonight. Positively. 28k so far, and I have another.. hour and a half. I can do it. ^_^
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 18, 2008 1:45:36 GMT -5
End of day 17: 33k. I need coffee. Or sugar. Or possibly just some sleep. 'Night, all. ^_^
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Post by Avery on Nov 18, 2008 4:45:54 GMT -5
I'm 300 words off from you. =D We really are word buddies, Kath. <3
We must try and finish the same day. XD
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 19, 2008 1:26:09 GMT -5
I'm 300 words off from you. =D We really are word buddies, Kath. <3 We must try and finish the same day. XD Yay! =D We must. :3 That would be cool. xD End of day 18: 36,160 words. Not too bad, really, all things considered. I'm aiming for 40k before bed tomorrow. |
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 20, 2008 1:33:59 GMT -5
40,126 words. I did it. *slumps over keyboard* By staying up rather later than I was supposed to, and with a good deal of rambling about nothing and poor quality writing, granted, but I did it anyway. =D
Orynn, however, much the pity, did not seem taken in.
“You’d better watch yourself, young man,” she snapped, shaking her dish towel in Romeo’s direction. “You’re going bad, and you know it.”
Lucien slowly sighed and covered his face with his hands. Romeo looked very earnest.
“I’m sure, ma’am,” he said carefully, nodding. Orynn gave him another glare, then her beady eyed gaze travelled across the whole party.
“What, you still let the girl dye her hair, Lucien?” She frowned ferociously. “I’ve told you a thousand times if I’ve told you once: you’re ruining her character. Just look how she dresses!”
Privately, Kanza thought Orynn wasn’t doing much better in the dressing department, but he wisely kept his mouth shut, just standing there. Irony was wearing a very curious expression; tight lipped and silent. She gave the impression of a fuse just about to blow.
“Yes, I couldn’t agree more,” Lucien sighed, very tiredly, peeking out from behind his hands, which were splayed across his face. His eyes were very blue, Kanza noticed. The same colour as Irony’s.
“And who’s this?” Orynn caught sight of Kanza, and her expression, were it was disapproving before, became positively furious. Her nostrils twitched, flaring out. “Just look at him,” she spat, turning to Lucien.
“Orynn,” Lucien began, lifting his hands helplessly and shooting Kanza a helpless look, “Orynn, he’s—”
“I don’t care if he’s the king of Persia,” Orynn interrupted testily, “he’s wearing dirt! Dirt, Lucien! Dirt, in my house!”
Kanza, who had very much expected some comment about his being a human, was taken aback.
“Ma’am,” he said carefully, stepping forward slightly, “Ma’am, I can assure you that this dirt is not really my fault. You see, I was caught in a very grevious accident…”
Kanza spun stories like some people spun sugar. He concocted fake events that sounded more realistic than the truth. He easily made the truth seem like an entirely different thing, with just the use of one word here, another there. He nudged the story in an entirely different direction. He didn’t often have a chance to use his natural born skill, but when he did, he laid it on thick. Even Irony was gaping by the time he’d finished, and Orynn looked positively dumb-founded. Even as the party watched, her face, in its tight, pinched lines, softened until it was almost pretty looking, something that surprised Kanza, who hadn’t expected to find anything remotely beautiful in this woman.
“My poor dear boy, how truly awful,” she cried, in one of those voices that are surely real only in movies and very old fashioned books, the paperback kind that are full of happy families, and ‘poor dear boys’. The sad thing was, that really was real for Orynn. She’d spent too much time cooped up in her own house—pizza parlour—to be considered technically normal anymore. Her view of the world was slightly warped, in a the last time I went out was twenty years ago sort of way. Living in a ruined pizza parlour in Southside, Under Midward, does that to you. She probably still thought people did say, “How truly awful!”
“Not really, ma’am,” Kanza deferred smoothly, basking. He was doing what he did best—earning admiration and being once more the centre of attention. He found he’d quite missed it over the last few days. Irony gave no one but herself the spotlight.
“No, no, Lucien, I can’t believe you; letting this poor child run about in this state. Honestly, whatever has happened to you? I can’t believe you’re actually related to me. You’re a disgrace of a brother.”
While Lucien rolled his eyes and mouthed prayers to the heavens, Orynn toddled off on very thin legs ending in very small feet, back through the swinging door and into the back room.
They could hear her banging about in there.
“Hurry up, Lucien!” she called shrilly, and with a very weary sigh, her brother motioned them all to follow. They herded in a silent sort of line toward the swining door. Kanza took the opportunity to examine the shop closely as they passed. It looked sad, in a very depressing way. everything looked ten years too old and decrepit, losing its lustre. The shop reeked of despair and happiness lost. It made tears prick at Kanza’s eyes; he knew the feeling well, almost too well.
He was very nearly crying by the time he made it through the swinging door, overwhelmed with emotions stronger than he could combat in their moody angstiness. He had to blink sharply, the back of Irony’s t-shirt blurring into sparkling pink stars.
The back room was a lot…bigger than it seemed. A lot more back ish, too. Very confusing, actually.
.. Orynn amuses me. I'm not so very sure she's a good character to put in there. xD |
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Post by Celestial on Nov 20, 2008 13:20:23 GMT -5
Wow Kathkitty you are doing really well! ^_^ And your story is awesome too. Orynn, please meet Marie. You might not have a lot in common but you both hate dirt. :3
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 21, 2008 2:26:25 GMT -5
Wow Kathkitty you are doing really well! ^_^ And your story is awesome too. Orynn, please meet Marie. You might not have a lot in common but you both hate dirt. :3 Aww, thank you. :3 I have my own opinions on how I'm doing. xD - namely the fact that I have so much plot left and I'm not sure how I'm going to have the motivation to continue after November. xD I sincerely doubt Orynn and Marie would get along, but perhaps they would find more mutual interests stemming from their hatred of dirt. xD In other words, (words, haha, geddit? *brick'd*) my wordcount is at 41,500. I'm amused at myself that I didn't really write much today, but hopefully I'm perfectly okay on time still after my mad writing rush in the past few days. I seem to be doing the 'procrastinate. Oh, quick, rush and write tons! Whew, caught up, have words to spare, now.. procrastinate again..' thing. |
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 21, 2008 20:54:40 GMT -5
I like this part, even if no-one else does. =D
Kanza was having a difficult time. He was having an argument with his mind, which had decided it had enough. It was now threatening to jump off the cliff. It was intense. Full of shrieking.
It’s no good, I’ve had it! Enough! Absolutely enough! We’re in a werewolf’s house. No, werewolves. Plural!
Relax. It’s not that bad… I mean, look…
No, I’ve had it! We’re going!
No, get away from the edge…that’s dangerous—no, I forbid it!
There was a struggle. Kanza emerged victorious, grinning and trying to sit up. He was a terrifying sight, grinning like a madman, a fistful of pillow in each hand, and no one could blame Brain for looking equally parts startled and frightened.
“I won,” Kanza announced, still wearing his maniacal smile. Brain backed away ever so slightly, until he was against the opposite wall.
“Erm, yes, of course,” he hedged.
Kanza blinked, and turned his head a little. There was a good deal of bright sunshine flooding the room, which had a navy blue carpet covered in a thick layer of dust, and not much else. Birds were chirping outside the window.
“Ahem.” Kanza cleared his throat, very slowly lowering his hands. Feathers blew up in a cloud, settling in his dark hair and making him look like a mad chicken murderer. He looked down at the bed. There was an awkward silence.
Brain coughed. He was not good at these things. He was just the Brother. He wasn’t supposed to have to do anything important.
“Er, there’s pancakes,” he ventured, and then made his escape very quickly, darting out the door.
Kanza sat on the sofa and considered the fact that people ran away from him. It was not news to him, but he was getting different feelings about it lately. Strange. It’d never bothered him before. It hurt now. A little. Like some tiny bit had died inside him.
Putting a damper on the angsty, cliché stuff, Kanza went to go do something his extremely feathery state.
Afterwards, he joined the mess in the kitchen, because pancakes sounded like a good idea. Especially when faced with impending doom and demons that could spring in at any moment. Not that it seemed the type of day for demons to spring in; those kind of things never happen on sunny days.
Kanza was having faint thoughts about his mom. He’d tried to banish them with very logical reasoning. She was better off without him. she was safer. He was dangerous.
It occurred to him that he was getting dangerously into the realm of clichés here; since when had he become dangerous?
Since he’d met Irony, of course, and accidentally angered a demon princess, he admitted morosely to himself, taking a stand around the counter. There was no table; everyone had a plate and a fork and were filling the kitchen up arguing and getting syrup on everyone else. Kanza felt separated somehow; as thought there were an invisible barrier between them and him. He stared, glassy-eyed, ahead, lost in his own personal world of misery, which was rapidly threatening to drown him, as it tried to do often if he was alone too long. Alone was not good for Kanza these days.
“Pancake?” Irony appeared by Kanza’s side, startling him. She was wearing a leather motorcycle jacket, jeans, and an orange shirt claiming Jonathan Coulton Pwned. Whatever that meant. She looked disgruntled, and was holding up a pancake on a skewer. Pointing it at him, actually. It looked menacing, like some kind of pancake mace.
Kanza backed away automatically, his hands coming halfway up in a gesture of surrender before he fought them down again.
“Er…”
“The cake’s a lie,” Irony added. “Or Romeo says that, anyway. I don’t know if it’s true or not. I mean, have you ever had cake that was a lie?”
“Er…” Kanza wasn’t managing very many coherent sentences. Irony had him pinned against the back wall by the door into the pizza parlour now; she was brandishing the pancake on a skewer wildly.
“‘Just keep trying, till you run out of cake’,” Irony suggested. Kanza looked nonplussed.
“Excuse me?”
“Pain.” Irony glared at him, and Kanza was very sure he would have been skewered by a pancake right then, except at that moment, he was saved—or condemned, it really depends on your point of view—by the door beside him slamming open. Kanza ducked to avoid being brained by a large rectangle of wood, and thus was probably in the best position when Romeo staggered backwards into the kitchen, followed by three very scary looking men. That was the best way to describe them, anyway, though ‘demons’ was probably more accurate.
Lucien froze, turned halfway from the stove. He had a spatula in one hand and an oven mitt on the other. He didn’t look equipped to fight a battle against demons very well.
Orynn was talking to her plate of pancakes, not exactly the most helpful person in the world; Rathiel looked up, stunned.
Brain looked mildly surprised.
There was one of those very brief pauses where everyone, including the attacking demons, are trying to take in the situation. And this was a very interesting one. The head demon looked like something out of Steven King’s nightmares. And to scare Steven King, you’d imagine it had to be pretty scary. The other two were not quite as scary—in fact, one of them was bubblegum pink, and was using a polka dotted umbrella as a weapon. Still.
They were all frozen in very comical poses of shock.
“Pancakes, anyone?” Lucien asked rather uncertainly, looking hopefully unhopeful in the way of one who knows they’re not going to be taken up on their offer.
“No thanks,” the head demon said politely. “Not to be rude or anything, but we’ve got orders to kill. And, you know, it wouldn’t really fit into the schedule. Boss’s a bit tight these days.” The silence continued for one more brief moment.
“Ah, well, can’t blame one for trying,” Lucien sighed, and all hell broke loose.
I'm running out of things to put on Irony's shirts. >.>; |
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 23, 2008 21:14:08 GMT -5
I. Will. Make. Fifty. Thousand. Tonight. *nod*
“This city is really very pathetic,” Aloise continued. “My father says as demon lord, he should’ve gotten rid of it a long time ago.”
She sounded awfully prissy saying ‘My father’, in that extremely irritating way that people who say ‘My father’ do.
“My mom says…my mom says tomatoes are good for you,” Kanza interjected wildly.
Everyone looked at him.
“Well, she does,” he argued.
“They make ketchup, too. I like ketchup,” Romeo put in without opening his eyes.
“With French fries,” Lucien sighed.
Kanza glanced up at Irony. Her eyes looked glassy.
“Where’s your father now, then?” Kanza asked Aloise, returning his attention to her. Lucien and Romeo were discussing the merits of ketchup, and exactly how many things it could be put on.
Romeo was under the opinion it was all-purpose, and could make everything from friend potatoes to wood shavings edible. Lucien disagreed, citing the only things that deserved ketchup as fries and Kiwi-style scrambled eggs. Rathiel made some indistinct gasping noises, and muttered something about macaroni and cheese.
Orynn put her rasping word in, never one to be quiet.
“What is ketchup?”
“My father,” Aloise said quietly to Kanza, “is dead.” Her mouth tightened in a funny line, and her dark eyes seemed to go wider, bigger, like an abyss waiting to swallow some unsuspecting pigeon whole.
“As is mine.” Kanza wasn’t really sure how he knew this; he thought it would probably fall under the classification of ‘things you always knew you knew deep down in yours soul’.
Actually, it was more just that the whole thing made sense now. There was no other option. Stories only went one way. They didn’t really work if they got twisted around any other way; everyone got disgruntled. Of course, that wasn’t to say that you couldn’t have a lot of unexpected and strange twists along while going this way.
Aloise’s deep eyes flickered briefly.
“As you say, angel’s son,” she spat. “They died fighting each other.”
“And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Kanza asked, his heart sinking. He was fairly sure he knew the answer at this point, and it was more than a little disappointing. Was this seriously what the whole thing was about? Was this why’d he’d always been so good at hunting demons? Just because his dad was some nutty angel who died killing some nutty demon before Kanza was born? It didn’t seem quite fair, somehow, that he got stuck with that kind of story, this kind of ending.
He had it all figured out. Aloise had finally tracked him down, and was after revenge.
It seemed almost silly when Aloise opened her mouth and said,
“It took me years to find you, angel son. Years, and years of searching. You’re lucky I didn’t raze the city to the ground.” She glared at Kanza. “Because of you, I never had a father.” Yep. Exactly right. Perfect. Who needs an original reason when you can just insert ‘revenge’ in that nice little blank line beside ‘motive for burning several buildings to the ground and cold-bloodedly murdering a lot of innocent people’?
.. I have a feeling it won't be done. I rushed some things to get to the end, and the end is.. somehow different than I'd planned. It works, I'm not complaining, but it really doesn't do a whole lot. xD That is, I'm not sure the story really goes anywhere at this point. Which is a trifle sad, since I had such high hopes. It just needs to be longer, though. I think I can work with that. ^_^ |
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 24, 2008 1:32:38 GMT -5
Done. 50,307 words.
That. Was. Fun! =D Wheeeee. :3
Fifty thousandth word: Was.
Yep, it was really dramatic, alright. =D
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Post by Rikku on Nov 24, 2008 2:38:25 GMT -5
Done. 50,307 words. That. Was. Fun! =D Wheeeee. :3 Fifty thousandth word: Was. Yep, it was really dramatic, alright. =D =D Eee! *glomp* Yay Kathkitty! Way before the last day, too. Go you. ... Eee! =D |
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Post by Celestial on Nov 24, 2008 12:21:01 GMT -5
Congratulations Kathkitty! ^____^ *claps and throws confetti and cake all over your board*
Rikku...it isn't the last day. :3 There is still about a week left.
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Post by Rikku on Nov 24, 2008 13:54:11 GMT -5
Congratulations Kathkitty! ^____^ *claps and throws confetti and cake all over your board* Rikku...it isn't the last day. :3 There is still about a week left. Yes. Hence the 'way before' bit. |
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Post by Kathleen on Nov 24, 2008 16:19:58 GMT -5
Thank you, Rikku and Cele. ^__^ *fishglomp*
And actually, does anyone want to, erm, read it? *is very sure no one does* I'd post it if you wanted to. xD
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Post by Shadaras on Nov 24, 2008 19:52:04 GMT -5
I want to read it. ^_^
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