#second serpent wip

[aschlindartroom]

[aschlindartroom]

[aschlindartroom]

District Mood Boards: Bundle #1

[aschlindartroom]

Happy Blorbo Blursday! <3

So tell me about how HartMart (I'm howling don't mind me) met and developed that painfully slowburn romance? What was their first impressions of each other? Anything you want to spill out about them!

Oh my gooooosssh. Thanks for the ask, @tryingtimi!

Dude, like. It's such a long story. Such a long, ridiculous story. I'll try to make it short. Deets under the cut. :)

Before they met, Martin Hightower led the Public Relations department of Schmidt & Foster orchestrating cover-ups and quelling any public dissent through half-measures and political strong arming.

Eckehart had all but officially emancipated himself from his father, who was the CEO of Schmidt & Foster at the time. Schmidt & Foster is kept exclusively in the family (mostly because it is run by a few shadowy peoples who have investment in them for spooky reasons, but that is neither here nor there for your ask), so when Elias (Eckehart's father) died mysteriously, Eckehart was ushered in to take over the organization for him. Eckehart would have much rather lived an obscure life under a different name, making a career out of city planning to fight Schmidt & Foster from the bottom, but he ended up in the exact position he'd always hoped he could avoid.

Franklin Belks, who was Elias's long-time COO/friend, was understandably worried that idealist Eckehart would try to shake things up, bring Schmidt & Foster to heel give power back to the people. He was fully set and ready to either have Eckehart assassinated or otherwise make him unfit for the job. However, Martin, his right hand man and trusted employee, offered to take up the task of keeping an eye on Eckehart.

Eckehart is understandably wary of Martin from the very beginning, knowing that he is Belks' inside man because he isn't stupid. Martin, however, is surprisingly frank with Eckehart, and throws him a curveball: Yes, I'm here on behalf of Belks. Yes, I'm here to spy on you. But I'm not going to. Not really. I'm here to work for YOU.

Why? Well, in the first book, you're not really supposed to know why. Although readers will eventually find out.

Over the next couple of years, Martin earns Eckehart's trust. He seems to hold a kind of admiration for Eckehart and his ideals, and reminds Eckehart often of what a great leader he could be if he gave himself an ounce of credit. Eckehart starts to see a softer side of Martin-- a person who is seen as a cold slab of concrete by most-- and eventually comes to confide in him. The two come up with a plan: a plan to dismantle Schmidt & Foster in one fell swoop, right out from under Belks, and give power to the Allied Districts Council. When the story beginnings, they're three months out from the political transition deadline and are about to put their plan into action.

This is already SO LONG, but maybe I'll post a little scene with them little. My baby boys. <3

[aschlindartroom]

Three Photo Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @tryingtimi! Love stuff like this.

Rules: Find 3 photos/images (they can be anything at all, memes, vintage photographs, quotes, anything) that you feel describe your wip. If you want, you can tell a little bit your story, too. You can do it with or without the context.

Second Serpent: Bird & Fish

Small excerpt below the cut.

In the darkness, a familiar, metallic scent stung at her senses. Blood. Old.

A tunnel walled from top to bottom in tile stood before them. Clinical white surfaces now held the grey pallor of dust, the mark of years resting over long-dried streaks of blood and decay. Bodies, now skeletons, were scattered along the corridor. Clothes clung to the bones—the sterile suits of doctors, the flimsy dressing gowns of the sick. Some wore protective vests, Schmidt & Foster issue, heavy and falling off of what remained of them. No cannon residue, no marks from knives or other melee weaponry, no holes where fabric or armor may have been punctured. The ones who carried guns had not drawn them.

Seung stepped lightly over the ground, moving to catch up to Rhen and Antoni. The two were not surprised, moving through the corridor.

“What happened here?” Seung asked. She noted the patterns of crimson, high arcs of arterial spray, flecks against the ceiling.

Rhen avoided Seung’s eyes. Antoni looked back at her with an odd smile. “Project Bloom happened,” he said. He pushed a gurney out of their path. The skeleton splayed on top of it hit the wall and rattled. Seung had never found the need to respect the dead—no dead man but her father, anyway—and didn’t start now. But she noted Antoni’s brazen countenance, coupled with Rhen’s quiet, and filed it away.

The tunnel was long—at least a mile, by Seung’s estimate. It sloped downward, crawling deeper into the earth. A pressure that was not just altitude began to build, a disquiet that felt both familiar and new, growing with each step. Seung slowed to a stop. Rhen and Antoni turned to look at her, halting their progress. Rhen’s ever-present smile was gone, replaced with cold resignation.

What she wouldn’t give, at times, to have Ehren’s insight.

“You haven’t brought me here for the view,” Seung said, gesturing to the bodies at their feet. Their numbers increased the farther down they went. Whatever had ended these people, it had taken advantage of the natural bottleneck. No way out but up.

[...]

“What is this place?” Seung asked.

“A very old Schmidt & Foster facility,” Rhen replied. “We think it predates the Spacebelt Catastrophe. It was abandoned. Project Bloom repurposed it and the resources left behind.”

“Project Bloom?”

Antoni stepped forward to cut them off. Rhen raised her hand, halting him. She did not look away from Seung. “An experimental trial in cast oil exposure, funded and sourced by the Liberation. Anecdotal evidence supported the hypothesis that cast oil exposure in certain quantities to certain people caused valuable mutations—the next step in evolutionary development.”

They weren’t her words—too practiced and concise. How many times had she rehearsed this explanation? How many times had she rattled off the words in broken mirrors, or heard them spoken in her presence?

Seung nodded further down the hall, where the door to a freight elevator loomed ominously. “Why was it blocked off?”

“A leak of cast oil aerosolized,” Rhen said. “The facility residents were already exposed, but they closed off the area to minimize the damage to the rest of New London.”

“How long?”

“Four years ago.”

Seung looked down at one of the skeletons by their feet, draped a patient’s gown covered in blood but long since dried. Empty eye sockets. She remembered H, the eruption of blood as his eyeballs had burst—the fat, pulsing worms that had pushed them out.

“These people didn’t just die of exposure.”

“Not just,” Rhen agreed. She took another step forward, careful. Seung stood her ground. “The airborne cast oil initiated a space-time anomaly. A crack into the void opened.” Rhen hesitated, considering her next words carefully. “Something came through.”

“Something,” Seung huffed.

“Part of something,” Rhen amended.

[aschlindartroom]

Fluffy Facts Tag Game

Tagged by @tryingtimi! Thanks so much.

Rules: List 5 or more cute or wholesome facts about your WIP, either events that happen or worldbuilding details or the like! Then tag some people you'd like to see do the game, too!

Second Serpent is notably lacking fluff for the most part, but there is definitely some light in the dark. *pops knuckles* Let's get crackin!

The H.O.U.N.D.s may be Schmidt & Foster's private political assassination squad, but during the Reconstruction (after the war), some of them were assigned to accompany the "Riders." These were specially selected military personnel who were sent to all corners of the earth in search of the last humans, acting as peacekeepers to offer a final refuge in New London. The H.O.U.N.D.s, with their special abilities, assisted these Riders by reading minds to break language barriers, liberating slaves, and providing support. There are many cultures that would have been lost after the closing of the dome without them. The H.O.U.N.D.s may be a tool, but they have been a tool occasionally used for good.

Martin and Eckehart, despite how dark the political B-Plot of Second Serpent becomes, are a huge source of fluff and giggles. They start their story as two very different people who are thrown together under strange circumstances. They open up, learn to trust each other, and after a 10-year slow burn and a lot of growth, they fall stupidly ridiculously in love. A scene with them is always bound to be either funny, aw-inducing, or heart-wrenching. Good chemistry, these two.

At its core, Second Serpent is a story about a group of emotionally isolated people learning to care about each other and themselves, even when it comes with the risk of being hurt. And it's about chasing ideals even when it seems hopeless. In a world that feels so very, very dark, the desire to be close and to be happy are never far away.

During the NWW, the sacking of museums and decimating of civilizations led to a 2nd Dark Age. And so, one of the most lucrative careers in New London is being a "Librarian." They are the well-read, historically-learned sages of the new world, who catalog and restore any piece of the old world they can find. Studious and life-long learners, this profession is grueling and tedious, but for their effort, they are HANDSOMELY paid. At the time that the story starts, The Librarian Society for Restoration has just published its 97th volume of their "world history" series, which is a very thorough accounting of major events as they know them.

In a later book, Seung will be pseudo-adopting a pair of psychic children. One of Seung's big arcs is shedding her hero worship of her father and finding her own way of living. Though she will never be their mother, by taking care of them, Seung has a chance to see a different way of parenting. Learning to be soft and affectionate rather than hard and exacting-- to extend a hand in comfort rather than a fist in anger.

Edit: WHOOPS. Almost forgot to tag people. Let's see... @valkyrie-the-bogwitch, @dgwriteblr, @andromeda-rising-897, @lunarmoment

[aschlindartroom]

Heads Up Seven Up

Thanks to @aohendo for the tag! I have not been working on my manuscript proper, but here's the last little bit I wrote as part of a Martin x Eckehart side-story.

“Do you think I’m mean?” Eckehart huffed a laugh. “You’re no saint, that’s for sure.” “Saints die young,” Martin said. “Us devils stay til the end of the show, just to see how well the world burns.” They fell into a thoughtful silence. It pressed into them, suffocating. Finally, Martin said, “Well, I’m nice to you at least, aren't I?” “You’re pushy and cryptic and you make me look dirty when you stand next to me in photographs.”

Martin has only been drunk with Eckehart once. He is delightfully forthcoming.

Tagging @theskeletonprior, @tryingtimi, @kiaraintheforest, and @whimsyqueen

[aschlindartroom]

Last Lines Tag

Thanks for the tag @paradisiacalshroud!

Rules: Write the last line(s) you've written for your WIP.

This Martin and Belks scene has been the project of the day, it seems. I have been having some trouble characterizing them in the present day, and these flashback scenes have really helped me wrap my head around them.

No pressure tag to @valkyrie-the-bogwitch, @happystarfishnightmare, @dgwriteblr, @wingedcatgirl, @aohendo, @theprissythumbelina

This was the time when Belks should have gotten up to leave. He didn’t. Instead, Belks watched Martin’s face with intense discerning, and Martin did the same. For a few long moments, they held each other pinned. They set themselves still for the others’ quiet judgment. “You aren’t a nice person,” Martin said, finally. Belks did not balk or disagree. His expression remained purposefully neutral. “But you’re being nice to me.” “You’re a very shrewd young man,” Belks said. “Tell me, why do you think that is? Why am I 'nice' to you?” Martin didn’t want to say the words—didn’t want to make them real. But then, they already were. “You want something from me,” Martin said, “something only I can give you.” Belks grinned, slow and amused. The edges of his white teeth seemed bright in the darkness. He stood up from the chair. “That may be so,” Belks said, “but for now, I’d settle for your trust. And your loyalty.” Belks approached the hallway where Martin stood. His hulking mass loomed over him, a sleeping threat. “Under my guidance, you will be afforded opportunities that most people in this city only dream of.” He placed a large hand on Martin’s shoulder. He squeezed. “Consider this an appetizer—a taste of the rewards you could reap at my mercy, and be grateful. You do know what I mean, don’t you?” Martin eyed the man carefully and nodded.