Writing News~

Anyway....here is a post....
Introducing...
THE NANOWRIMO!!!
Tear that not particularly excited look off your face and replace it with a rapt, delighted smile.
Nanowrimo =
1 month
Thousands of Writers all over the world
50,000 words by the 30th of November

I'm proud to say that I've written approx 6000 so far.

Here's a snapshot of my (not very exciting) novella, H et P:
***
It was an unusually golden morning. The suns shone brightly and cheerfully, the sky was cloudless and the air was warm and comfortable.
It made even Gronwye, the most impenetrable forest on the Cube seem livelier and slightly more habitable.
A famous (and mad) poet named Tayber, had once yodelled to no one in particular, ‘No lighteth shine ineth the dark of Gronwye nighteth.’ (Most people assumed he had a strange lisp, but the truth was that Tayber operated under the illusion that he sounded wiser if he attached ‘eth’ to a few words in every sentence, regardless of which.)
The strange thing was that it looked like a normal forest. The birds were actually chirping instead of huddling warily in their nests. The rays of the morning sun had pierced through various layers of vines, tangled tree branches and the treacherous undergrowth, lighting it from floor up. The forest was very much alive. Flowers bloomed and wakening animals yawned in the warm light. The dew on the ground had not yet dried, and shone brilliantly like crystals. There was a golden glow lighting the green moss, making it look invitingly soft, like rich green velvet adorned with the glittering beads of water. Sprightly green leaves uncurled from trees. The brown sprigs of the shrubs looked a healthy wooden brown, dark like polished walnut, with occasional white speckles.
A few squirrels and other woodland creatures calmly gathered nuts and food, squeaking and greeting each other. The birds trilled delightfully in the trees and the foxes prowled slightly further in the shadows, brilliant red pelts concealed within the little darkness that the light had not reached.
‘HEY HOOOOOO!’
There was a sudden burst of music. Well, the kind of bad-quality, poor excuse for music that you found lurking in seedy little inns that edged the slums in Noveali City.
‘A HOG AND A DOOOOOOOG’ Said singer yodelled.
The explosion of sound shattered several eardrums in the surrounding area and caused a few fleas to fall dead out of pure shock. The birds were startled out of their perches and the animals scurried back to their holes urgently as the raucous noise flooded the forest.

“There once a hog, who married a dog,
Oh what a sod! He married a dog.
Hey ho, a hog and a dog!
And now that fine dog went off with a frog,
And poor old hog was left with his looooooooooooooooog!
Hey Ho, A dog and a frog!
Hey H-OWWW!!!”

The singer stopped singing abruptly and began hopping around madly, scattering the terrified woodland creatures in all directions.
“Bally stubbed my toe! Who would put a flippin’ rock right there! Bloomin’ cheek!”
After giving the rock a few sound kicks for good measure, she gave a few coughs and continued prancing through the forest.
“Ha-hemm!” She announced theatrically to her petrified audience who peeked their heads out of their little nooks and crannies warily. “Excuse that interruption! Bally STUPID Rock! I bet yar’all dying t’know who I bloomin’ am! Well, INTRODUCING, ME!” She performed a hasty pirouette but only succeeded in tripping over herself and landing on her rump. “Not that bally rock again?’
She got up huffily. “Well, as I was saying. Introducing me…AAANDAAAA WITHOUT FURTHER ADO – Introducing, yours truly, m’ms and gentries, Miss Theodore Matteo Hessia Devessiryuu Sry, yer honours! But you can call me Thea! Excellent singer, brilliant pipist, fantastic boxer and bally good at using a frog-sticker too! Flippin’ Cream of the Devess Crop, that’s me!” She bowed in all directions. “Thankyer! No need for all the applause!” She added modestly to the completely silent forest.
There was a soft chatter of quiet laughter from the squirrels. Thea turned and squinted up at the treetops, “Ya don’t have a flippin’ appreciation for good singers!”
***

And that was the introduction to my main Character...

Here's more on her:
***
“Bally HELL!” Thea screamed, “What is with the ROCKS in this area! Flippin’ pop out of nowhere and trip you!”
She scrabbled around the ground and grabbed her canvas sack, then looked around wildly for the rock to blame.
There was none.
***

What I'm gathering about Thea so far is:
1. Rocks (imagined or not) are out to get her
2. She adds 'bally', 'flippin', 'bloomin', and 'blinkin' to all her sentences
3. She calls a sword a 'frog-sticker'
4. She's very show-off
5. She definitely cannot sing (but she can play the pipe. =D)
6. She's just a bit crazy. Just a bit.


And here is a look at the other Characters:
****
Death groans and stands up. “Does she really find it necessary to kill him? Now I have to go and collect the soul.”
The Lady of Luck shrugs. “Send a Reaper.”
“I’d rather not. The new generation of reapers have this obsession with looking like skeletons. What an embarrassment.” He stretches and waves his hand. A scythe appears. He thinks for a few seconds, and then waves his hands again. The scythe de-materialises.
“Reaper!” He calls.
A skinny figure clad in a black cloak appears.
“Get rid of that ridiculous skeleton disguise.” He demands, “You have a soul to pick up.”
The figure nods and disappears.
“Young Reapers these days…” Death moans, “Can’t they just walk out the bloody door like normal people?”
****


ARE YA CONFUSED? ARE YA EXCITED?

LALALALA~ Since I'm in a writing mood... Here's a look at the story 'Untitled XD', a collaboration with Vincent. This is one of my favourite parts (because I wrote it, Duh)
*******
Vianne surveyed the sorry group standing at the entrance and made a quick head-count. 13, including herself. A fair number… She turned to Musper, who was shivering slightly in his torn clothes. ‘I think you should fill the hole.’ She inclined her head dispassionately towards the tunnel.
There were startled shouts of ‘But our friends!’, ‘How will they survive?’
‘If you don’t fill in the hole, WE will not survive.’ Another head appeared at the edge of the tunnel. Someone’s sister. She quickly weighed the pros and cons and gave it a swift, contemptuous kick. The head disappeared with a piercing cry. What did it matter? One less mouth to feed. One less voice to irritate her ears.
The children watched her with different levels of fascination and shock.
‘Go on,’ said Mordi, ‘Fill it in.’ He kicked some dirt into the hole. There were protesting cries.
‘You can’t do that!’ Lucas disapproved when some of the children began obligingly pushing dirt into the tunnel. ‘The other kids might die!’
‘If they don’t die, they’ll be captured,’ Vianne replied.
‘That’s bad too! We have to save them!’ He ran over and waved his arms at the children. Some of them looked up and regarded him with blank, unsympathetic eyes. ‘Hey but, they’re our friends!’
‘We don’t have time.’ Mordi told him in a soft voice. ‘Vianne, throwing dirt in there will not do much.’
The girl had walked over to the edge of the tunnel and pulled a pocket knife out, flicking it open and closed pensively. ‘I haven’t killed before.’ She remarked dreamily.
‘No… you haven’t…’ Mordi replied slowly, as he warily advanced towards her from behind. ‘What are you planning to do?’
She ignored his question and turned to Musper, ‘How did you dig this tunnel?’
‘Uh…We sent Boris up and he started the front, and we followed in single-file…did the rest…’
‘Technically, the tunnel is ‘Boris’-width?’ Vianne continued slowly, patiently.
‘Yes’m…’ Boris stepped forward, he was a plump youth with a low IQ, ‘Tis me who was at the head of the tunnel.’ Vianne regarded him, as if she was trying to come to a conclusion.
Mordi’s mind raced ahead and came to a terrifying conclusion. There were screams from below as Boris lowered himself obediently into the entrance of the tunnel and packed the earth around him snugly.
‘That’s right.’ Vianne said reassuringly, ‘Don’t worry about the screams, they’re nothing to do with us, right Boris? Are you nice and snug?’
There was something in the tone that did not suit Vianne’s personality. The children had backed away, trying to figure out what she was doing.
‘Will you stay there for us?’ Vianne cooed, ‘Give those nasty children a big kick. That’s right. Now how am I going to know that you’ll stay here and not get scared and run away?’
‘You can trust my word’m,’ said Boris honestly. He was a simple-minded boy.
‘Just one more thing, Boris.’
Mordi noticed the flash of the afternoon light reflecting on the penknife in her hand. It looked unnaturally sharp. When did she sharpen it?
‘There’s a good boy, tip your head back.’ Boris seemed to resemble a sacrificial bull as Vianne held his head back gently. ‘This won’t hurt one bit.’
Boris never saw it coming. He heard the warning shouts of some of the children who had realised what was happening, but the small hand on his forehead reassured him. Mis’m Vianne was a nice girl…He’d just have to trust her…There was a strange burst of pain when his neck opened with a spray of wetness, and he succumbed to a drowsy state. There was a red spreading over his shirt…Trust Mis’m Vianne…He told himself…Mis’m Vianne knows best….
Vianne let Boris’ heavy head slump forward and began wiping her knife on the grass. She tucked it away briskly. It was harder than she thought. The skin looked soft to the touch, but the cartilage inside had required a little hacking.
There was a long silence as the children stared at Boris’ inanimate body, buried at the entrance of the tunnel, his fat upper torso protruding and the front of his shirt soaked red with blood, which was slowly dripping into the mud.
’13 is an unlucky number anyway.’ Vianne told them, ‘I like 12 much better.’
***

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