KJ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
owlmoose) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
boss_battle2010-09-03 06:01 pm
owlmoose) wrote in boss_battle2010-09-03 06:01 pm
Progress Report #2: Snippet time!
The approach of the summary-sharing deadline gives us another opportunity to share snippets of our works-in-progress. Share a sentence or a paragraph in comments! :D
no subject
Your Majesty,
We have found three suspicious growths in the channels, as marked for you on the map. Samples have been taken and will be given to Rikku tonight. If you wish to investigate further, please fully equip any assignees with saftey equipment and gas masks. Simply being in the presence of the objects is enough to induce nausea, headaches, vomiting and give everyone a malodorous aroma that puts a Marbol King's breath to shame.
Yours,
Penelo
no subject
no subject
no subject
Critically, Fran examines the top of their heads and sees but fur. "I know not," Fran whispers back, "Perhaps they have none."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Outside, the sun was rising.
Out. Aerith had never thought it would happen, that she would actually get out of Midgar; she had stared after the others for a long time as they began the long climb down from the broken road before going after them, and now that she felt solid ground - so like the ground in the slums, yet not - beneath her feet she still wasn't convinced that this was really happening. Maybe she was still in the lab, drugged and wandering in a hallucination. Maybe she was still breathing the stale laboratory air, and not the sharp, cold air she feels in her nose now.
But when she looked up to the sky the sun was there, and it looked like nothing she had imagined. She had only ever seen the shape of it before, through the smog of Midgar, only known its light when it shone down into her church. On the outside that light is sharper, whiter; she couldn't help but stare right into it, even as her eyes began to hurt. When a sudden shadow fell over her vision, she jumped.
Then she realized that it was a hand, and as she tilted her head to the side, she saw that it belonged to Tifa.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Anyway, seeing this made me decide to start, so here are a few potential opening sentences:
Rikku sat on a plush red velvet bench in the confines of the smallest airship she had ever seen. Or perhaps airship was a bad name for it in the first place, as it hovered rather closely over the ground. Flight for this ship was really only a convenience for evading rough terrain and certain obstacles. Her father had not designed this machine and it did not seem to be an Al Bhed invention at all.
no subject
*runs off to finally start her story*
no subject
And the more Rikku the better!
no subject
Rikku is only one of my favorite video game characters of all time, so I must say that I agree. =P
no subject
no subject
no subject
I hope my betas don't make me cut this part. >.>
no subject
no subject
no subject
Rinoa had only a vague recollection of meeting Selphie's friend, Zell --short, blond, energetic, with a rather intimidating facial tattoo in black ink emblazoned across half his face. She hoped Selphie was right about him being "good people."
"Actually, he'd been really useful on the mission itself," Selphie continued. "He's got a mean left hook and a roundhouse like you wouldn't believe. His grandpa taught him, I think he said, and he reads all those fight magazines, you know the ones."
"Combat King?" Rinoa suggested. Reading was one of her guilty pleasures and she acquired magazines everywhere she could find them. Half of the contribution on their news board came from pieces she collected from various publications as she found them.
Selphie nodded. "He's behind the cause and all, but I think he's worried we're going to get arrested and his mom'll find out. Wuss!"
"I can see where ending up in a Galbadian prison doesn't sound like such a good idea," Rinoa told her, amused despite herself. One of the things she loved about Selphie was her. unabashed bravery and the way she could made even the most grim situation seem better.
"We wouldn't be there long," Selphie reminded her. "They'd torture and execute us pretty quickly."
no subject
.
'I ceded my nationality when I deserted; you have no right to command. I'm Balfonheim now.'
'As much as anyone can ally where flags don't fly?'
A snarl. 'Yes.'
He lowered dark glasses, awarding me a glimpse of the Imperial blue. His right hand formed the mudra of consideration. 'Should you check your conscription record, you would find Mother Rozarria kens not a desertion, but rather your initiative, demonstrated in anticipation of the Archadian intent to war upon Balfonheim. How well, likewise, you have independently financed your cover within this sunlit, salt-rimed free port.' He regarded me wholly, from heeled boots to where silk binding scarce tamed Rozarrian curl; he kenned, no doubt, the wholly limited cover of my Balfonheim leathers, pearls and lace between. 'So few of my little birds could have done so as efficiently.'
'If I disagree with your assessment of my actions?'
'Your insubordination would be but another mark beside your desertion.'
At his shoulder, the operations crew adjusted the post. The Rozarrian Dreadnaught Parvaneh was now mothership to only five.
'And Rozarria will enforce the non-disclosure clause upon those who desert her.' My lip curled. 'Invariably.'
Al-Cid indicated agreement. 'This free port will not protect you.'
'Balfonheim casts out no one.'
'Of course it does not,' he said, as if surprised I should suggest it. 'Listen: you believe yet in independence as an ideal. But where individuality reigns, the only currency of worth is an agreed-upon currency. In Balfonheim, there is only one value, of profit. Even now the docks brim with headhunters who would oblige Rozarria, simply for the posted reward.'
At Margrace's word, a reward that my old department would be similarly obliged to host.
I had no regret for throwing my lot in with pirates and thieves, only a dull despite that Al-Cid should use that which I had come to value as weapon.
'You have my commitment, Margrace.'
'Wholehearted, Elza?'
'If you insist, I'll fake it for you.'
.
no subject
no subject
"Hello, Seifer," Squall said, staring down at the wolf, who was, in turn, staring up at him.
The wolf shook his head and pushed himself up, also stretching until Seifer was sitting where the wolf had been. "Leonhart." The tone was neutral enough but Squall could still hear the tones of wariness in it. "Nice lion."
no subject
no subject
no subject
The soil was wet and freezing under his hands, and Leo thought mournfully about the heavy leather gloves he had lost along with the rest of the clothes in the missing bag. They'd have been welcome now, as he was getting up to his elbows in cold dirt. At least the soil was loose, and easy to dig through.
It would be raining soon. He could almost feel it in the air, and it drove him to dig faster, carelessly shoving the soil aside in a heap. It was cold and dark enough out there without it raining.
His fingers brushed against something hard there, deep in the ground, and he dug through the dirt around it to loosen it, before pulling it up and into what little light he had.
In his hands, the dirt-stained femur seemed far heavier than it could possibly be.
no subject
She wanted to vomit again, but her twin-pulse echoed now in the stone of the gate. No time. If they found her, she didn't know what would happen, to her or to them. She needed to go alone to learn whether the lost ones could still be saved. She needed to be alone when she learned whether to hate her father.
Something beyond sang to her. Now that she knew to listen for it, she knew that it had called to her all her life, waiting for her to create a hollow place for it to resonate.
Your heart belongs outside. The spike of panic in her blood nearly made her turn back. She had no idea how deep her humanity ran, how close she was to falling in and drowning.
It sang inside her like bells and fire. She could not turn back.
no subject
Bull, Zack thought, but let it slide. He'd find out the truth later. But now! Now they had reached the most delicious coffee he had ever tasted in his whole life -- a dispensing machine outside of the officer's gym. He could almost do a giddy little dance at the thought of drinking it. His own coffee never turned out right, and the cafeteria's was passable. He fished some coins out of his pocket to drop into the machine, giving the first cup to Cloud with a warning that it was hot. The boy took it carefully with a mumbled thank-you, and held it while Zack got a cup for himself. Yes, a nice hot cup of delicious coffee was just what he needed.
no subject
Neither wanted a large wedding. Zidane positively hated fancy dress, and the thought of having to be stuffed into a black tie and tails made him pale with fright. Garnet was, at heart, a shy girl who longed for a small, intimate wedding. But when you’re the adored Queen of Alexandria and the Great Hero that Saved the World, a small wedding is absolutely out of the question.