Progress report?
Sep. 10th, 2011 12:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Hey
megaflare_ff authors! Your absentee mods return, finally crawling out from under the twin rocks of work and school, to check in. How's it going so far? What's everyone working on?
With the rough draft deadline approaching, seems like an opportune moment to share some snippets. Drop a note with a paragraph or so in comments. Ready, set, go!
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With the rough draft deadline approaching, seems like an opportune moment to share some snippets. Drop a note with a paragraph or so in comments. Ready, set, go!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 07:27 am (UTC)---
Before Ashe could reply, a noise came from the other end of the room; Cousland had pushed her chair back from the table to stand, her hands resting flat on the table. "Hear this now," she said, voice raised, sharp and clear. "I do not know your nations or your peoples. I do not know your histories, or what grudges you may hold with one another. And to be blunt, I do not care. Fighting the darkspawn, keeping your lands from suffering a Blight, is more important than holding on to any past slights you may bear, no matter how deep you think they cut to the bone. My homeland almost destroyed itself because too many leaders put politics before the Blight. Do not let the same thing happen to you." She shook her head, dropped her chin. "You cannot know how terrible a Blight is. Whole mountains and valleys, uninhabitable for generations. Cities and towns wiped out. The land poisoned, the waters undrinkable, entire populations either dead or transformed into horrors worse than death. It is a fate I would not wish on my worst enemies. Do not wish it on one another."
Silence fell; no one spoke the word, but the name hung in the air as surely as it was on the tip of Ashe's tongue, and doubtless in the forefront of every thought in the room:
Nabudis.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 07:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 07:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 04:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 04:16 pm (UTC)I'm writing Barbariccia-centric Archfiends fic that ties their backstory into the crystals and the Lunarians. So far, Barbariccia/Scarmiglione has happened, the body count is elevated, and I have finally figured out what I want to do with the Magus Sisters.
---
"Dance," the king commands.
Her movements are a mockery. No matter how swiftly she turns, no matter how furiously her hair whips after her, the wind remains outside and beyond her, inert. Her chains clatter. If the world were right, she would splinter their tables, flay them to the bone, raise a tempest of their blood. Let the king see if his blood still commands her when it congeals with a thousand commoners'.
When she nears the king, a twist in her spine reduces her to sluggish writhing.
"Remarkable," says the man behind the black metal. The firelight licks a ruddy glow over his armor; the true fire would consume him. "Did I not see the fiend before me now, I would never have believed such a thing could be tamed."
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 04:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 04:27 pm (UTC)FF12, AU. This snippet references some character death. The gist of the AU is that Ashe and Vossler do not escape the palace to form the Resistance, and Ashe rules as a puppet queen, client to the Archadian Empire.
--
Gauntleted hands seized her, dragged her from her hiding spot. She stumbled, and one of them caught her. More light approached.
"What passes here?" The accent was distinctly Archadian, and the voice was not pleased.
"We have captured the princess for you, Judge Gabranth," one of the men behind her said.
She wondered how a judge had found his way into the royal family's escape route.
"And her guardian? Captain Azelas?" Now that he was closer, she could see that he wore a massive helm such as only the highest-ranking Judges did, and his voice echoed oddly within the steel.
"Slain, Judge Magister," another soldier said. "He resisted."
"Idiots!" Judge Gabranth exclaimed. "Did I not tell you explicitly that Princess Ashelia and Captain Azelas were to be taken alive?"
"He has slain ten of our own, Judge Magister," the first soldier said.
"And did they draw steel first?" the Judge demanded, then slashed a gauntleted hand through the air. "Never mind. Is the princess harmed?" He approached, until she could smell the leather beneath the steel, mingling with the stench of blood and effluvia. "Princess Ashelia, I am Judge Magister Gabranth. Are you well?"
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 09:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 09:41 pm (UTC)Yeah. He is deliberately being less controlled than he probably could, in this scene; the fury is an act. *innocentfais*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-10 10:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-11 07:35 pm (UTC)It was a man’s body, dressed in deliberately generic dark clothing and lying face-down in a puddle of his own blood, pooled around his head. Lord Palazzo must have stepped in it in the dark as he was walking past. There was nothing identifiable about his garments, which marked him as likely being a trained assassin rather than a civilian with a grudge. Careful not to slip in the blood, Leo managed to turn the man over and blinked a little at what he found. The man’s face was unfamiliar to him, and entirely unremarkable, with no real distinguishing features. It was a good face for an assassin, but there was an expression of almost surprise on his face, the reason for which was probably related to the dagger sticking out of his left eye.
The man’s own blade was still on the floor where it must have fallen out of his hand.
Leo found himself looking over at the Lord General in surprise.
Pausing in the middle of pulling garments out of the wardrobe and tossing them on his bed, Lord Palazzo froze. "What?" He asked, then shrugged as his eyes fell on the dagger in the assassin’s eye socket. "Oh. I get cranky when I get woken up," he continued, as if this was an everyday occurrence.
"Your aim is very good," Leo replied, wondering if he should try removing the dagger. Palazzo’s aim was especially good for someone who was supposed to be a untrained non-combatant who’d probably been half asleep at the time.
Palazzo shrugged again. "Lots of practice," he offered, apparently trying to decide between two different shades of green tunics. "The Emperor has an average of five attempts at his life a year, and I’m the only person they try to kill more often than him."
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-12 05:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-14 10:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-14 04:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-14 10:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-14 10:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-15 08:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-12 05:22 pm (UTC)-----------------
The beggar, ragged hood drawn over his head, was curled up in a sunbeam by the flower shop door, which was odd because beggars usually kept to the shadows until dark, or they slept away the day in shelters. Her father had set up the shelters five years after the war, when it had become obvious that the homelessness problem would not simply go away on its own. Eiko could have told him that years ago, but Cid was stubborn, too stubborn to admit that this post-war Lindblum was no longer the city he'd once known.
"Princess?" one of her guards said.
She'd been staring again. If the beggar knew he was being watched, he gave no sign. Except for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders, he could have been dead.
"Sorry," she said. "Let's go in."
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-13 12:08 pm (UTC)"Rjrn, what are you up to?" Armando called, setting the broom by the backdoor.
Red eyes peered up at the approaching boy, a smile following.
"I was speaking with the flowers, brother," Rjrn said, gesturing with a small hand at the flowers. "Can you hear them?"
Squatting down beside his little sister, Armando listened in silence for a moment, then smiled softly at the flowers.
"I agree with Rjrn. I think rain is but a day or two away," he said to the flowers.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-13 12:21 pm (UTC)Oh, and my goal is 6 - 8,000 words (I signed up to do 5,000), and I have maybe 1,500 words done so far (or 1,500 words that are being taken apart, rewritten, reused, banged into other places... however you want to look at it). I also wanted to say that yeah, my fic focuses on three OCs, but there's a whole lot of interaction with characters from FFXII, FFXII: RW, and FFTactics A2. =3
(no subject)
Date: 2011-09-17 01:34 pm (UTC)“Which crystal did you encounter first?” Bartz asked, and added, with a gesture off to one side, “You know, back when… you got pulled into things back home.”
The Onion Knight frowned, sucking in his cheeks for a moment as he pulled together the pieces of memory floating around in his head. He didn’t have enough to be able to tell when all of them fit in with each other, but he was sure he could tell when they’d encountered the first crystal. “I think it was the Wind Crystal,” he said. “It was kind of weird, because there was an earthquake, and there it was, inside the earth.”
Bartz threw his head back and laughed. “Always the first into trouble, huh?”