Progress report?

[owlmoose]

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!

Comments

[shaded_mazoku]

I'm writing another FFVI AU. Surprise. XD Without giving too much of my plot away, Leo isn't a general in this fic, but the Captain of Guards in Narshe, who is stuck dealing with the very quirky ambassador from the Gestahlian empire, who has just informed Leo that there's a dead body in his rooms.

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."

[darcenciel]

Love Kefka. :D

[shaded_mazoku]

He's always a joy to write for me. I don't think there's any character I enjoy writing as much as I do him.

[stealth_noodle]

This sounds like fun! Oh, Kefka.

[shaded_mazoku]

I am having a lot of fun with it. I probably won't have a draft done in time, due to my office moving, but I figure I won't worry about it and just enjoy myself writing. I've been considering eventually illustrating it myself. Kefka is almost as fun to draw as he is to write, and I'm having a lot of fun writing him in this fic. Narshe was not prepared for Kefka. *grins* (Then again, how could they ever be?)

[stealth_noodle]

Kefka's like the Spanish Inquisition, in a way. Nobody expects him!

[shaded_mazoku]

*chuckles* You know, I actually have a WIP fic with the work title "Nobody expects the Gestahlian inquisition". XD I really should finish that some time.