i was motivated to keep working on my unfinished nano-novel, here’s a snippet that i can’t remember writing:
On the view screen, a ship at least double the size of Endeavor loomed, blotting out the stars and making the small bridge feel even smaller.
Cilla put a hand to the wall, as if to feel the systems purring, assuring her that they were still working to keep her alive.
“I think,” said Sanchez, “that this is the same ship that tried to block us on Casus Eight.”
A cold thrill ran down Cilla's spine. She took a step closer to Roy.
“Jean, you have the course plotted?”
“Yes, captain.”
“Sanchez, be ready to pull a Benjamin,” Roy said, turning to the pilot. Sanchez half turned in his chair, staring at Roy.
“You’re not serious?”
“As a black hole,” Roy replied. “I believe in you. Send Zuzu a message to stand by.”
Sanchez turned back, visibly shaken, and placed both his hands on the steering apparatus. Cilla saw the hail symbol blink angrily at the screens, demanding a reaction.
“Answer the hail,” Roy said, leaning a hand on the back of the middle chair. Cilla thought that his posture might be purposeful, intended to seem self-confident and in control - but to Cilla there was something brittle about the ramrod straightness of his back.
Jean flicked her wrist, and the communications screen sparked to life.
Two faces, completely unfamiliar to Cilla, appeared. It was obvious they were related; the same sharp nose, similar angles to the eyebrows lining dark eyes, the same shade of ruddy pink skin. The woman had darker hair, bound up high in a ponytail, the man had his jaw-length hair hanging about his face, lending him an air of carelessness.
“Hello,” the woman said. “My name is Jeema. You have something of ours.”
“Hi, Jeema, I'm captain Roy Mallory of the Endeavor,” Roy answered. “I don't think so.”
Jeema smiled, her teeth unnaturally bright.
“Don't lie to us,” she said.
“Who's us?” Roy asked, and Cilla admired his composure - the pair of them was already unnerving her.
“That's Dusk, my brother,” she answered. He said nothing, only stared at them through the screen.
Cilla walked unobtrusively over to Jean's station, and at a wordless request Jean moved over and allowed Cilla to sit down and start pulling up data; on the ship that hovered before them, on the name Jeema and Dusk. She kept listening to the conversation.
“That doesn't answer my question,” Roy said.
“We're not here to answer questions. Just hand Banjax over and no harm will come to you.”
The atmosphere on the bridge changed perceptively - Jean straightened up behind Cilla, she heard Sanchez fidget nervously. Cilla heard nothing from Roy, and she could only imagine the face he was making, if he was making a face at all.
“Banjax?” Roy repeated, his voice impressively even.
“Yes, Banjax,” Jeema repeated. Cilla pulled up the registration code of the foreign ship from the transmission channel - the code was scrambled, effectively marking the ship as illegal, and Cilla felt as if her stomach had dropped out from under her.
To be in Hub space with a scrambled registration code - that meant they were packing some serious influence, had paid off someone high up in the IGC administration to be able to move freely.
This was bad. Cilla glanced over her shoulder, tried to catch Roy’s eye, but he was staring steadfastly ahead, at the siblings on the screen.
“Look, if you don’t hand him over we’ll just have to board and search you, and I can’t guarantee my people will be kind to you,” Jeema said, a theatrical sigh underscoring her words. Cilla despised her very genuinely and immediately.
Roy did a sweeping gesture with the hand that wasn’t gripping the back of the chair.
“You wouldn’t find this Banjax if you were to strip my ship apart down to the smallest nut and bolt,” Roy said, words studiously casual. “Let us pass and we won’t report you to the authorities for harassment and obstruction.”
Jeema threw her head back and laughed.
“You bought fuel cells from a back alley dealer,” she said, pulling a strand of her long, dark hair between two fingers and twirling it lazily. “You don’t want the attention of the authorities.”
Her brother, Dusk, opened his mouth for the first time.
“Just hand Banjax over, or we will hurt you.”
“Hurt us, don’t hurt us,” Roy said, an edge sneaking into his voice. “It doesn’t matter. There is no Banjax on this ship, and we have no intention of letting you on this ship to do anything to us.”
Do you have a favourite OC, or do you love them all equally? Like, personally I have a couple of favourite OCs that I think about ALL THE TIME (it's kind of funny, really). And I wonder if you feel something like that too!
when i first thought about this question, mazer and ainsley from tdft were my initial favs because they’re e/intjs and that’s easiest to write because i’m intj, but jules and sienna really surprised me by growing on me once i started developing them more. eden and evie i don’t exactly identify with, but i would absolutely love them as my friends! so i can’t really say i have one favorite since they’re all sort of my children.
i do understand what you’re saying - in other novels i’m working on, i do have favorites. but the more time i spend fleshing out the other characters and making them more complex, the more i end up liking them, if that makes sense!
do your six oc's in the distance from then have a group name? ex: the dregs, the inner circle, i can't think of anymore
haha i call them the manhattan gang but honestly that’s more out of convenience than anything else. i’ve been trying to think of a good one but that was the best i could come up with, if you can think of a better one i’ll give you cookies :’)
Since all the numbers are pretty much taken, I want some details on Sienna, because any girl who designs her own phone case gains my automatic respect.
hah *cracks knuckles* here we go
art art art
draws on anything. her jeans. her arm. occasionally your arm if you’re not paying attention
used to be super shy but has become more stubborn/outspoken
really good at concealing what hurts her
mazer *in a high pitched voice*: “hi i’m sienna and i’m always ready to fight”
def a gryffindor but she’s extremely loyal too so a bit of hufflepuff
(ex) best friends with ainsley even though they’re really different
likes naps more than her own life
also sweaters and hot chocolate yes bye
in love with the stars. majoring in physics/astronomy
master of yelp, in love with all kinds of food
“did you drink enough water” “who are you, my mom” “yes”
unofficial mom friend (evie’s the official one)
10/10 will triple text you
so underappreciated by?? everyone??
did i just come up with headcanons about my own characters? yes, yes i did. thanks kat, this was super fun!!
you should pick random parts of your nanowrimo and post on here! That would be cool
sure! here are a few short snippets that i like. but i turned this into a tag game because i want to read others’ works too haha :’)
tagging @empyrreal @asteriaria @dawnisgone @archistratego @merflk @jaemestkirk @sclemnlyswear @ibuzoo @gxnevras @splinterthestars (and anyone else who’s writing a novel rn) to post 5 snippets of your novel!
i removed most of the names to keep things as spoiler-free as possible :) if you need background info about my novel, look here!
1. first few lines of the novel
It’s 10:37, and the silence is starting to grate on my nerves.
I’m struck with a strange sense of deja vu. How many times have the group of us waited for a train, shivering in the dampness of the Metro station? Hundreds. Maybe thousands.
But this time is different.
2. after a fight between two characters
“Look, it’s two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred…thirty-six hours. A million-something seconds. You get the picture. You have one job: hold yourself together until Jules leaves, Evie moves out, and then we can go back to being hostile or whatever.”
“She started it,” I mumble again, but the excuse is juvenile at best and self-absorbed at worst.
“But you took the bait.” He makes a face, rubs his eyes. “God, I don’t even know what to say. Stop being obnoxious? Stop acting like you’re twelve years old?”
“What, forgot the notecards?” I ask drily, crossing my arms.
He shoots me a glare. “You really haven’t changed at all, have you.” It isn’t a question.
3. a certain character being a drama queen
Oh my God, so rowdy high school parties aren’t just a Hollywood myth, after all.
Stepping gingerly through the doorway, I fight the overwhelming instincts to a) throw up, b) run like hell, c) do both simultaneously. A current of air washes over me, reeking of sweat, stale perfume/cologne, and too many bodies mashed into a far-too-small space. The bubblegum pop is turned up so loud I think my eardrums may be bleeding.
I have the sudden, intense feeling that coming here was a mistake.
4. two characters being awko tacos
He turns to find me and starts walking backward. I raise an eyebrow, trying to stifle a laugh as an annoyed father steers his toddlers around the obstacle.
“You’re going to run into someone,” I tell him. He just shrugs and continues the slow steps back. “Don’t blame me if you fall and twist your ankle or get a concussion, I’m not going to carry your ass to the emergency room.”
He snorts audibly but stops, still facing backward as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Like you could carry me anyway.”
“Oh, is that a challenge?” I’m near him now, stopping to appraise him.
“What, you think you could?”
“Maybe not bridal-style, but if you hop on my back.”
“You’re messing with me.” He laughs incredulously.
“Get on my back.”
He stops, apparently realizing I’m not kidding. “You’re serious? Look, we could just give up now and keep your pride intact. I promise I won’t tease you. Much.”
“Get on my back.”
“Wow, you really are serious. What about—” He makes inarticulate hand gestures at all the people around us and the tour guide who’s eyeing us suspiciously.
“Do I really need to say it a third time? I thought you knew me better than that.”
5. one line to sum up the whole novel
Once, we believed we were invincible, but now the distance from then seems insurmountable.
if you read this all the way through, let me know what you think!! :)
