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Oct. 27th, 2010
(no subject)
Oct. 27th, 2010 09:49 amRight. New plan. Resume language routines in November. Right now, finish one novel and Nanoplanning.
Note to self: Dropping out of Big Bangs if you have half the work still to write is not shameful.
Nanoplanning
1. Language notes x4
2. Dialect sheets x2
3. Character profiles xlots
4. Outline
5. Questions
6. Map: Brandt's keep
7. Map: Northern Marshes (because that's about as far as I expect to get)
Further note to self: replace rubber band on wheel head. (Though, points for snagging a spare drive band already. Just in case the cats decide the drive band is a chew toy and the door gets left open.)
Note to self: Dropping out of Big Bangs if you have half the work still to write is not shameful.
Nanoplanning
1. Language notes x4
2. Dialect sheets x2
3. Character profiles xlots
4. Outline
5. Questions
6. Map: Brandt's keep
7. Map: Northern Marshes (because that's about as far as I expect to get)
Further note to self: replace rubber band on wheel head. (Though, points for snagging a spare drive band already. Just in case the cats decide the drive band is a chew toy and the door gets left open.)
Gemma and Wolf
Oct. 27th, 2010 03:32 pmA/N: I have no idea what this is.
Their townhouse is wedged in between the white granite face of a regal new building that prides itself on being a classic from a better time and a tired old apartment building bashed together from two smaller ones. The lower windows are coated in dust and the corners of the front steps are crumbling, but the small front courtyard is lovingly maintained and the dog poo is scooped regularly.
The tiny woman who comes up the walk with head high and eyes bright stops to wave at the old man smoking his pipe on the porch, if porches were permitted in this establishment. As it were. Pipes aren't permitted either, but people look the other way about that. He smiles and waves back to her, and nods to the man lumbering behind her. He nods and shrugs in return, as if to say well, what can you do? The old man snorts, taking out his pipe to mutter something neither of them catch and which probably wasn't directed to their ears anyway.
Gemma goes into her home and locks the door behind her, turning around in the tiny space between her and the large man behind her to drop her things on the table, shake her jacket out and hang it. Then she shakes her shoulders as though ridding herself of a heavy burden, pulling straighter.
"Oh, that feels good."
She stretches to her tip-toes and he smiles fondly, watching. After another stretch or two she trots into the kitchen and sets the kettle on to boil, starts cooking them some beans and toast. "I think today went really well, don't you?"
Wolf shrugs. Not bad. Could have been better, but it could always be better. Might have been worse.
"You can be such a pessimist sometimes."
His lips stretch into a grin his lower jaw refuses to support. She reaches up and cracks it back into place without looking.
"We really should get you to a doctor."
His brows furrows downwards, lip curling as he takes a step back into the shadows. The way the light flicks over him makes his hair seem to stand up on end, wilder than usual, and the deep brown color sinking almost into blackness.
Gemma sighs, reaching up for the plates and throwing him a pointed look when he doesn't move to help her. "You can be such a baby sometimes. All right, no doctor. Eat your toast."
Two slices drop onto his plate with a soft crunch. Beans slop down beside them and he leans against the counter while she bounces up to sit on the edge beside him, all forgiven.
Their townhouse is wedged in between the white granite face of a regal new building that prides itself on being a classic from a better time and a tired old apartment building bashed together from two smaller ones. The lower windows are coated in dust and the corners of the front steps are crumbling, but the small front courtyard is lovingly maintained and the dog poo is scooped regularly.
The tiny woman who comes up the walk with head high and eyes bright stops to wave at the old man smoking his pipe on the porch, if porches were permitted in this establishment. As it were. Pipes aren't permitted either, but people look the other way about that. He smiles and waves back to her, and nods to the man lumbering behind her. He nods and shrugs in return, as if to say well, what can you do? The old man snorts, taking out his pipe to mutter something neither of them catch and which probably wasn't directed to their ears anyway.
Gemma goes into her home and locks the door behind her, turning around in the tiny space between her and the large man behind her to drop her things on the table, shake her jacket out and hang it. Then she shakes her shoulders as though ridding herself of a heavy burden, pulling straighter.
"Oh, that feels good."
She stretches to her tip-toes and he smiles fondly, watching. After another stretch or two she trots into the kitchen and sets the kettle on to boil, starts cooking them some beans and toast. "I think today went really well, don't you?"
Wolf shrugs. Not bad. Could have been better, but it could always be better. Might have been worse.
"You can be such a pessimist sometimes."
His lips stretch into a grin his lower jaw refuses to support. She reaches up and cracks it back into place without looking.
"We really should get you to a doctor."
His brows furrows downwards, lip curling as he takes a step back into the shadows. The way the light flicks over him makes his hair seem to stand up on end, wilder than usual, and the deep brown color sinking almost into blackness.
Gemma sighs, reaching up for the plates and throwing him a pointed look when he doesn't move to help her. "You can be such a baby sometimes. All right, no doctor. Eat your toast."
Two slices drop onto his plate with a soft crunch. Beans slop down beside them and he leans against the counter while she bounces up to sit on the edge beside him, all forgiven.