Category Archives: Firedancer

His arms are folded across the heaving sea.

The Slave and I did a dry run tent-raising, and I cannot begin to express the amount of love I have for my pink tent. It is tres fab. I snuggle it.

I wish wish wish I could take a picture but alas I can haz no camera. Boo.

Today has been pretty whack in terms of actually getting anything done. In theory, I’m supposed to clean my house and organise stuff to pack and do home school with Sprog the Elder. I’ve done like . . . half of these things.  Failcake surprise!! Only not really, because we all know I am a lazy lazy person.

This morning I managed to write a staggering 323 words. But then a Very Important Potato pointed me at this bonsai story tree at critters. Ans so I spent the morning creating bizarre word poems out of old and new manuscripts.

 Heavy velvet curtains fell from outside influence.

and

 and double-checked the fact that the day is a bizarre orange shade

and

 His fingers are blinded at the flapping lines.

Or even this

 The sun was still scraping by, but he unfolds his pockets, and he finally stands there, trembling.

Quick! Someone catch that plot bunny before it escapes!

So I was playing around with the new and improved FreeMind and a Very Cool Giraffe explained things like hyperlinks and all the cool plot thread shit I could do with it and so I basically e-gasmed all over my computer. I’m a sucker for gadgetry and stuff.

Anyway, while messing about with my map for Firedancer, I suddenly had a bunch of brain things (thoughts?) and my plot veered off from where I figured it was going, took in some side trips for the sight-seeing and the lulz. And um, I changed my book. A lot.

But I’m happy, because I hadn’t actually written all that stuff yet, it was just boiling in the brain-pan, so it’s all good. And I am excited about Firedancer again. 😀

red hair and wordage

So my hair is red. wooh. Don’t hate on the pic – it’s 9 on a sunday morning and …yeah.

and more sprints with musers give me more words. yay

 

“What I’m saying,” I turn back to Kaiseven, and pull at his hand, “is that I’m going to go find somewhere as far from the Inquisition as possible, and I’ll take you with me-”

“Thank y-”

“Don’t interrupt. I’ll take you with me, and I’ll make sure you’re safe, but then, blind boy, you’re on your own. I cannot be tied to you – I’ve got my own shit to deal with. Comprie?”

“Huh?”

“Comprehend? Understand? I speak stuff that makes sense to you, yes?”

“Yes.” He turns his head from me. “I’m not completely stupid,” he mumbles.

“No?” I pull him along after me, and head out toward the old eastern part of the city, to where Phantasm is. At least there I’ll know people who are friendly to my kind. “’Cause you do an absolutely brilliant acting job then. Maybe we can get you a job with the East Side Players.”

The perils of work

Cracked my thumbnail while gardening today. Ugh, so annoying.

Hopefully tomorrow I’ll get some work done on the tent. Today felt like laundry load after laundry load, so the idea of sitting down and sewing metres of pink lycra was less than appealing. Odd, I know.

I can’t even remember if I mentioned a whole new plot thread for Firedancer that came to me a few days back…oh well, now I have. It made me happy, so that’s good.

Bit what I liked today: 

Everyone’s heard the rumours, and now and again, one of the People will go missing – just drop off the face of the planet and never be heard from again. No one knows what really happens to them, but we have the memory of the purge, handed down through the generations, and we know what could have happened.

New Book! New Book!

Okay seriously.

I have at least 2 books to revise….

So what happens?

Inspiration strikes and leaves me running for the computer to jot down some notes and an opening.

It looks like it’s going to be a fun book (something I’ve never been all that good at. Heh) and that’s probably a good enough reason just to write.

So here you go, the first bit of Firedancer. First draft crappiness and all.

Last year, the four of us – Deets, The Eye, Oliver and me – decided to start a band. I mean, we were going to be awesome and punk and it didn’t really matter that none of us could actually play anything. Punk was all about three chords and fighting The Man.

 

 

Cero City never actually got to experience our genius (a fact, dear fallen gods and goddesses, I think Cero City is heartily grateful for), mainly because Deets got bored of not being up front and centre and just stopped pitching up to practices.

 

 

The Eye was the only one with any talent, anyway, because that guy’s voice can charm nightingales down from the frikken trees. He’s got this perfect soulful croon that cracks in all the right places. I played guitar because it didn’t matter how shit I was, I was still one up on the others, and Deets drummed because for all her ice-princess bullshit, the girl can actually keep a beat, and make it sound half-way decent. No one wanted to play bass, ’cause who gives a flying one about bass-players, so we made Oliver do it.

 

 

Out of all of us, Oliver’s the only one who still stays up practising bass, even though Rabid Squirrel Death Fest has been defunct for almost a year now.

 

 

Which kinda tells you a lot about Oliver – he’s got the crazy determination to get stuff perfect,  and I guess he’s the only one of us with the time for it, seeing as how the poor bastard has been seventeen for the last two hundred years. He’s also got issues about travelling by himself, and that’s why me and The Eye are heading to the restaurant where he’s waitering tonight.

 

 

I hate cycling in the dark. Drivers in Cero have no care for cyclists. Mostly they act like we’re targets, and I keep having to swerve onto the pavement to avoid being run over like road kill by some expensive car. People, I wear this safety crap for a reason – bright flashing vest equals cyclist; Do Not Squash. But, yeah, they don’t exactly care.

 

So anyway, there I am, weaving on and off the pavement, one eye on the road, and one eye on this maniac in a blue sedan next to me, when I see the shadow in the sky. At first, I’m thinking, wow, what the hells kind of bird is flying out at night? It’s not an owl or anything. It has this crazy long plumage that ripples behind it as it flies. It’s almost…dragon-like.

 

 

I skid to a halt, just as the bird-shadow disappears behind the dark clouds. One foot on the ground, I balance and watch the clouds. The moon dips behind a towering column of darkness, and the halogens flicker all around us.

 

 

“Lorin!” The Eye almost crashes into the back of my bike, and he swears. “Are you trying to kill me, you daft woman!”

 

 

“Did you see that?”

 

 

“See what?”

 

 

I stare at the area where it disappeared, willing it to come back. “Dunno. Was some crazy kinda bird…”

 

 

The Eye jumps off the Daisy Bell and wheels it up along side me. “I’m going to strangle you,” he says in a conversational tone. Which is entirely possible, I suppose, The Eye having control over air and wind, just like his darling daddy.

 

 

“Ha!” I jump my foot back on to the pedal and swerve out onto the road. “I’d like to see you try.” Technically, he’s more powerful than me, seeing as how without air, my fire charming is pretty useless, but I’m not totally weak. It would have been nice if I’d got any of my mother’s magic, but she said it doesn’t work like that. If you have a mortal parent, and a deity, you’re gonna either go one way or the other, and my luck is to take after my magician father. So I have some basic elemental skill, and no real power. Sucks.