Sweet and Sour...
Okay, day had a lousy start, a mediocre middle (I at least churned out some respectable fanart today), and looks like it might have a lousy ending as well. My current Beta (Who I've only worked on one story with) might just be quitting very soon. Ordinarily, I'm very good at catching my own spelling and grammatical errors, and I don't really need a Beta for those parts, however, there are often parts in stories, which I look at and HATE, until I quite frequently completely delete whole chapters, rewriting them at a (sometimes MUCH) later date. In order to calm down, I'm listening to the angriest Rock I have (Ironically, that would be the Nightmare Revisited album). Well, either way, I figured I'll let everyone see a peek of the current chapter I'm working on...
Memoirs of the Labyrinth Excerpt from Ch. 5
Sarah's return to the real world only began when piercing light from the sun outside the window hit her dead in the face. A ragged moan of pain escaped her lips and she curled into a fetal position, pulling the pillow over her head. 'Hm, Karen must have switched fabric softeners...this smells good...' she pondered, wishing she couldn't think at all. The pain behind her eyes was so intense it made her wish she had a swift way of ending her life.
“Ow...” She mumbled, knowing with glaring certainty she didn't want to open her eyes. She rolled her back away from the window, desperately wishing that she could go back to sleep, but that intense throb caused tears to gather in her eyes. “Ow...dammit...” She moaned, finally throwing the pillow away and digging the palms of her hands into her eyes. “Oh god...I'm never drinking again, I don't care if it's the last thing in heaven or on Earth...”
“Allow me.”
She felt a leather clad finger gently touch her forehead and her eyes popped open, a chill of something between fear and excitement settling into the pit of her stomach. Then again, that twisting sensation may, in fact, simply be her stomach longing to void what she'd consumed the night before. One golden eye, one blue drifted in her vision. Her breath caught as she stared up at her arch nemesis for the first time in five years. “You're the Goblin King.” She realized that she'd just managed to say something completely stupid and wanted to hit herself.
That same arrogant, mocking smile from five years ago, when she'd said those very same words. He withdrew his hand, standing, moving away from her, clad in those wickedly tight dark gray pants, and that ridiculously over-worked white poets shirt.
“I'm still sleeping.” Sarah decided. “Let's see...” She pinched herself as hard as she could, blinking in surprise. “OW! Wait, that means-” She glared at Jareth. “How did I get here?!” Her voice was just a hair away from hostility.
He turned back towards her, not looking at her face, his own a cool mask. “How do you think, my dear girl? Naturally, I learned of your presence through a very reliable source, found you standing on a table singing the most obscene song I'd ever heard in my life.” He smirked faintly. “Which considering my age and the company I keep, is saying something, my dear.” He flipped a hand as if that wasn't important, which to him, it probably wasn't. “You passed out, and to put it simply I brought you here, made sure you were comfortable and watched over you so that you wouldn't choke on your own bile in your comatose state.”
Sarah glanced down, saw the outfit she was wearing and blushed darkly. “How did you get my pajamas?!” She screeched.
He eyed her figure, clad in the loose cotton pants and that too small t-shirt, with the obscenely large print reading “Ziggy Stardust”. He inclined his head, a wicked smirk turning up the corners of his lips. “Isn't your real question, how I got you into them?” He let that hang on the air while watching her go from angry red to embarrassed. Ah, Morghanne was right. Her blush was simply delightful.
Sarah had begun sputtering when the look of amusement on his face died. Instead, his face was extremely serious, almost frightening.
He began pacing around her, his hands tucked behind his straight back, his eyes not meeting hers. “You can imagine, I'm sure, my surprise to learn you were traipsing around the Underground. Sneaking in through the secret entrances to dally around...”
Sarah scowled. “It's not like I didn't have a reason-”
“Your reason is irrelevant. This is twice now that you have crept into my territory without invitation. There are reasons those entrances are secret, and you are putting a great many people both above and below in danger. This is unacceptable, Sarah.” He stopped, looking at her, his face an unfamiliar mask. “It has to end, before irreparable harm is done.”
Sarah crossed her arms, wondering what it was about this man that always managed to infuriate her. “It's-”
“Not fair?” He asked, turning and facing her fully, getting well within the acceptable six inches of her personal space. “Now you know better. You learned that your first time in the Underground.”
She glared up at him, arms crossed over the word Ziggy, making eye contact. “You want me to stop seeing my friends in Wiccadale and the Den?” She asked coldly, pretending she didn't feel her insides jumping in excitement at being this close to him. It had been ages. God, that's what she smelled as she was waking up?! His smell! Cinnamon, spice and everything nice...Yum-my.
Memoirs of the Labyrinth Excerpt from Ch. 5
Sarah's return to the real world only began when piercing light from the sun outside the window hit her dead in the face. A ragged moan of pain escaped her lips and she curled into a fetal position, pulling the pillow over her head. 'Hm, Karen must have switched fabric softeners...this smells good...' she pondered, wishing she couldn't think at all. The pain behind her eyes was so intense it made her wish she had a swift way of ending her life.
“Ow...” She mumbled, knowing with glaring certainty she didn't want to open her eyes. She rolled her back away from the window, desperately wishing that she could go back to sleep, but that intense throb caused tears to gather in her eyes. “Ow...dammit...” She moaned, finally throwing the pillow away and digging the palms of her hands into her eyes. “Oh god...I'm never drinking again, I don't care if it's the last thing in heaven or on Earth...”
“Allow me.”
She felt a leather clad finger gently touch her forehead and her eyes popped open, a chill of something between fear and excitement settling into the pit of her stomach. Then again, that twisting sensation may, in fact, simply be her stomach longing to void what she'd consumed the night before. One golden eye, one blue drifted in her vision. Her breath caught as she stared up at her arch nemesis for the first time in five years. “You're the Goblin King.” She realized that she'd just managed to say something completely stupid and wanted to hit herself.
That same arrogant, mocking smile from five years ago, when she'd said those very same words. He withdrew his hand, standing, moving away from her, clad in those wickedly tight dark gray pants, and that ridiculously over-worked white poets shirt.
“I'm still sleeping.” Sarah decided. “Let's see...” She pinched herself as hard as she could, blinking in surprise. “OW! Wait, that means-” She glared at Jareth. “How did I get here?!” Her voice was just a hair away from hostility.
He turned back towards her, not looking at her face, his own a cool mask. “How do you think, my dear girl? Naturally, I learned of your presence through a very reliable source, found you standing on a table singing the most obscene song I'd ever heard in my life.” He smirked faintly. “Which considering my age and the company I keep, is saying something, my dear.” He flipped a hand as if that wasn't important, which to him, it probably wasn't. “You passed out, and to put it simply I brought you here, made sure you were comfortable and watched over you so that you wouldn't choke on your own bile in your comatose state.”
Sarah glanced down, saw the outfit she was wearing and blushed darkly. “How did you get my pajamas?!” She screeched.
He eyed her figure, clad in the loose cotton pants and that too small t-shirt, with the obscenely large print reading “Ziggy Stardust”. He inclined his head, a wicked smirk turning up the corners of his lips. “Isn't your real question, how I got you into them?” He let that hang on the air while watching her go from angry red to embarrassed. Ah, Morghanne was right. Her blush was simply delightful.
Sarah had begun sputtering when the look of amusement on his face died. Instead, his face was extremely serious, almost frightening.
He began pacing around her, his hands tucked behind his straight back, his eyes not meeting hers. “You can imagine, I'm sure, my surprise to learn you were traipsing around the Underground. Sneaking in through the secret entrances to dally around...”
Sarah scowled. “It's not like I didn't have a reason-”
“Your reason is irrelevant. This is twice now that you have crept into my territory without invitation. There are reasons those entrances are secret, and you are putting a great many people both above and below in danger. This is unacceptable, Sarah.” He stopped, looking at her, his face an unfamiliar mask. “It has to end, before irreparable harm is done.”
Sarah crossed her arms, wondering what it was about this man that always managed to infuriate her. “It's-”
“Not fair?” He asked, turning and facing her fully, getting well within the acceptable six inches of her personal space. “Now you know better. You learned that your first time in the Underground.”
She glared up at him, arms crossed over the word Ziggy, making eye contact. “You want me to stop seeing my friends in Wiccadale and the Den?” She asked coldly, pretending she didn't feel her insides jumping in excitement at being this close to him. It had been ages. God, that's what she smelled as she was waking up?! His smell! Cinnamon, spice and everything nice...Yum-my.