Day Three - NaNoWriMo 2015
Nov. 3rd, 2015 10:32 pmAgain, another day where I honestly thought I wouldn't meet my goal because 1) work kind of sucked and 2) when I finally had a chance to sit down after work (and after finishing work after getting home *sigh*), I felt no motivation or ability to write whatsoever.
But then I skipped to a completely different part of the story, and the muse suddenly woke up again. So yay for that! Day three: 1806 words, for a total of 5872!
And, because I met the goal for today, have a little excerpt:
----------------------
Fuck.
Dorian gripped his left wrist tightly as he glared at the landscape around him. Oh, he recognized this place, all right.
Damnation.
Rocks floated above them, seemingly unconcerned with such little things as weight or the natural order of things. Mist clung to rocks, things in the distance hurt to look at properly, and, above all, everything was a grimy, greasy green that assailed his senses almost as badly as the throbbing pain in his palm.
Fuck and damnation.
“Call me crazy,” Alistair noted, “but this doesn’t look like the best situation we could have dropped into, hmm?”
Dorian glanced up. Up, because the man was standing sideways on a nearby rock, looking comfortably upright save that his up was Dorian’s right. “That is an understatement,” Dorian snarled, then took a deep breath. By the end of the breath, he had forced a smile onto his face. “On the other hand, perhaps this could be like the first time I was here. There was a castle in the clouds, and an entirely too handsome desire demon who offered me wine and a massage in exchange for my soul. Why, it was almost like being back home.”
But then I skipped to a completely different part of the story, and the muse suddenly woke up again. So yay for that! Day three: 1806 words, for a total of 5872!
And, because I met the goal for today, have a little excerpt:
----------------------
Fuck.
Dorian gripped his left wrist tightly as he glared at the landscape around him. Oh, he recognized this place, all right.
Damnation.
Rocks floated above them, seemingly unconcerned with such little things as weight or the natural order of things. Mist clung to rocks, things in the distance hurt to look at properly, and, above all, everything was a grimy, greasy green that assailed his senses almost as badly as the throbbing pain in his palm.
Fuck and damnation.
“Call me crazy,” Alistair noted, “but this doesn’t look like the best situation we could have dropped into, hmm?”
Dorian glanced up. Up, because the man was standing sideways on a nearby rock, looking comfortably upright save that his up was Dorian’s right. “That is an understatement,” Dorian snarled, then took a deep breath. By the end of the breath, he had forced a smile onto his face. “On the other hand, perhaps this could be like the first time I was here. There was a castle in the clouds, and an entirely too handsome desire demon who offered me wine and a massage in exchange for my soul. Why, it was almost like being back home.”