Nano Done-ish
Well, I hit fifty thousand on my Nano Tuesday night. Did not do anything on Wednesday night being Lazy.
See:
Some favorite bits:
Theo and Trever need to get into a club to talk to Vampires and undead friendly folk:
The bouncer looked at the two of them. Theo looked back at him. “We’d like in, thank you.”
With extreme exaggeration the bouncer looked at his list. He flicked through the pages pretending to read each name, occasionally glancing up at them. Finally he said. “Sorry you’re not on the list.”
This only made Theo smile a little. Perhaps he would be having too much have fun with this. He crossed his arms and said. “Oh, but I do think I and my friend do not need to be on the list.”
“And why is that?”
“This is the Woolen Cloak, is it not? The club is owned by Ronald DuMoore, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Who runs it for Ember Industries?”
“Yes.”
His smile broadened “I’m Theodred Sammeth. I own this club.”
The bouncer blinked and stared at Theo and Trever and then back at Theo. “One moment,” he grunted. He stepped inside, the music buffeted against him like a gust of wind for a moment as the door opened and then shut.
“You enjoyed that far too much,” Trever said.
“Yes. Sometimes its fun to throw your weight around like that, but don’t tell Enne I said that.”
Trever laughed. “You’re a terrible person.”
The door opened as he said that and the bouncer stuck his head outside as well as another man, unnaturally pale with pink streaked hair slicked back and glitter across his skin: a vampire.
A recent series of vampire harlequin fantasy novels had vampires that naturally sparkled. This series proved to be very popular with young, pretty girls and women so to cash in on this craze, vampires started to coat themselves in sparkling make up and name themselves after characters in the books. It’d worked surprisingly well, much to the concern of persons related to the victims of the sparkling vampires.
Theo pushed up his sunglasses so that his silver eyes showed. Both men balked and then the door shut. “I think I scared them.”
“Ya, think, mate?” Trever drawled.
The door opened again and the vampire stepped out in a slick fake wolf’s coat, dyed a dark green. Thin as a stake he walked over to Theo and bowed. “My Lord, and friend, please, co
me in, if I had known you were coming, I would have made arrangements.”
“It’s fine, it was a split second decision done about a half hour ago.”
“Of course, of course,” the vampire said his voice reedy and as thin as he was. “Please, this way.” He led them inside, constantly glancing back at the two of them. “Our private booth is still open. You’re very lucky.”
From the way he spoke, Theo figured that he really meant they just kicked out who ever was just in that booth. He didn’t say that though. You let the underlings underling for you. That’s what his father always told him. Let them do things for you, don’t comment on if it is good or bad. It keeps them on their toes and doing their things of their own initiative. But if they did something that was completely contrary to your desires, then you destroy them.
Theo wasn’t always sure how he felt about that one. Most of the time he was sure it was a bad thing. He knew it was a bad thing. And then something pissed him off to no end and it didn’t seem like it was a bad thing any more.
Kale and Lan discuss Kale's aunt Ginger, establishing her badass cred in Kale's eyes.
“Adrian gets excited about any new spell that he comes across,” Kale said. He dipped bread in his own bowl of chili after spreading a smear of butter on it. “It’s like candy for him.”
“As opposed to actual candy.”
“That’s energy for him.” Kale managed to get a laugh out of Lan who was looking a bit dour. “But there be nothing dangerous feeling?”
“No, not that I can tell.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Well, it could be. It could also be that the whatever it is in there is so well shielded that I can’t even tell that there’s something dangerous there.
“You Russians are always so dour. You should think more positively,” Kale said.
“You asked,” Lan pointed out, ignoring the jibe.
“Well, as long as it’s not some sort of creature from the unspoken nethers trying to kill me, I think we should be fine.”
“What if it’s a Fairy Lord who wakens up and takes offense to our existence because he thinks that we’re the ones who imprisoned him?”
“My aunty Ginger will take care of it.”
“A dragon?”
“Aunty Ginger.”
“Slavering were-beast waiting for someone to cross its threshold?”
“Aunty Ginger.”
Lan frowned at him. “I didn’t know you had an aunt.”
“She’s not, not really. Virginia Milton is my mother’s great something or another aunt.”
“You’re claiming that Virginia Milton, the monster slayer, keeper of the Virgin Queen’s virginity, and protector of all English Queens hence is related to you?”
Kale held up his hand. “I swear on my honor as an Irish lad, it’s true.”
“Irish lads have no honor,” Rhys said coming into the tent. Lan sniggered as he said that.
“You do me a disservice sir.”
“I do Lan a greater service.” He sat down and took Kale’s bowl of chili. “But, Lan, even though Kale is a lying scum, he’s telling the truth of this.”
Kale bitches Rhys out for wanting to go into the Mysterious Cave Alone. Rhys actually ends up getting bitched out a lot.
“Shall we go in?” Lan asked.
“No. I’ll go by myself.”
“Bollocks,” Kale said. He slammed his keyboard down and stalked over to Rhys. Shaking a finger at him he said, “We are a team. This is a team mission. If you won’t let Adrienne walk onto that bloody damn ghost ship by herself, then you’re sure as hell going to hang before I let you go sauntering off into that cave to something possibly dangerous even if we can’t see if there’s anything there, you be understanding me, mate?”
Lan and Alec looked confused and Adrian didn’t blame them. Kale had slipped into his native Gaelic half way through his tirade.
Continuing in Gaelic, Kale said, “If you even be thinking about going in there by your self, especially in the condition you’re in and Adrian and I know that you aren’t in tip top shape even if you can fool Jan, then I’ll just tie you up and leave yah hanging for some of those guppers I saw in the tide pools down there.”
Rhys look taken aback at that sudden burst from Kale and looked at Adrian for support.
“Sorry Rhys, Kale’s got a point. I’m with him on this.”
“Traitors. Both of you.”
“Three of us,” Lan said, holding up his hand. “I’m with them.” Rhys glowered at him darkly, but Lan stood his ground, improving Adrian’s opinion of him substantially.
Anna talks to a movie star. Nicely.
She smiled at him politely. “Thank you for taking time to meet with me.”
“Of course, how can I help you and the FBI?”
From her briefcase she pulled out a sheaf of photos and laid them down on the table between the glasses of water. “We’ve noticed a very disturbing trend in regards to a series of ritual murders.”
“Oh? And how can I help with that? I’m certainly no murderer or ritualist.” He did lean over to look at the photographs. Or at least he leaned over, his gaze flickering towards Anna’s modestly covered chest more than the pictures themselves.
“Kiiiiick him,” Enne’s voice came over her earpiece. Anna ignored her sister with all an actor’s aplomb. Ogling her chest was completely expected from him. She wasn’t going to get violent, like Enne would like her to, unless he did something completely untoward. Boob staring didn’t count.
“I would certainly hope not,” Anna continued. “It’s just that many of them had something in common with you.”
He waited for her to continue, open faced and eager to hear what it was she had to say. It was quite attentive. No wonder the girls - people - seemed to go crazy for him. He was pretty much acting like the perfect guy. “That would be?”
“They’re all fans.”
Carrey blinked. “I don’t think that’s a very good basis for finding something in
common. I mean I have millions of fans all over the globe.”
“A good point, however we got a tip from a reliable source that seemed to think that you or your fans had something to do with it.” This wasn’t completely true, though Carrey didn’t need to know it. They still didn’t have complete connections to Carrey, but fans had shown up in people connected to the murder, be they family members or the victims themselves. “Someone is using your fan base to commit ritual murder.”
Leaning back, face going pale, Carrey shook his head. “You’re kidding. That’s a stupid lie. No ... why would they be using me to get to the fans. What would they even be using them in the first place? What sort of ritual is it that they’re trying to do, anyway? Raise my ratings?” The disbelief slid into a sneer.
“We’re not sure yet, though there are some similarities to the ritual performed by the Ashling a few years ago.”
He snorted at her. “Similarities. Hah. I read the reports on that incident in preparation for the movie. I’m playing your brother, you know?” he paused for a moment of preening. “Though I think they’re cutting you out.”
“Kiiiiillll him,” Enne said in her ear. Again, Anna ignored her.
Staying composed, she said, “The ritual explicitly was created to re-empower a god. In the Ashling’s case it was to re-empower himself. This one has all the hallmarks of a re-empowerment ritual as well. We think it’s a god of death in this case.”
“How would you come to that conclusion?”
“It’s classified, I’m afraid, but believe me there’s enough evidence to suggest that your fans are being used to fuel a ritual similar in making to the Ashling’s, even though it’s not as … destructive to the countryside… and for a different god.”
“What good would my fan base be? I’ve got nothing to do with any sort of death gods.”
“You, personally don’t, however we think that maybe someone on your personal staff might be using your connections, your fans, for the ritual. We’re looking into them now to see if they have any connections to some death cults.”
“You’re looking into my staff without letting me know?” He snapped angrily, starting to stand up. “That has got to be illegal, doesn’t it?”
“Background checks are not illegal, Mr. Carrey,” Anna continued on as if she weren’t getting more cries of murder in her ear or Carrey looking like he was about to start a scene. “And, if you continue to act like this,” she added, “I will make it very difficult for you to please people.”
She flicked her eyes down towards his lap and took a sip of her water.
He abruptly sat back down.
Coolly she smiled at him. “I’m so glad you understand.” After taking another sip of water and breaking off a piece of one of the long breadsticks that they offered at the restaurant, looking at Carrey meaningfully, she continued. “We have no intention of doing anything illegal. We will keep you informed of things happening in this investigation. The purpose of this meeting is to inform you of what is going on and to see if you might have any insight in regards to your staff.”
“You want me to point out someone who might be … orchestrating these murders,” he said, eyes never leaving the breadstick.
“Exactly.” She twisted it around in her hands. “It would be valuable for us, good PR for you. In the long run it’ll make everyone happy.”
Trying to regain his footing, Carrey took a drink from his own water, staring out past her. “I can tell you this right now. No one under my employ is in any way related to some death cult or is trying to resurrect or re-empower any sort of death god.”
However, I have not actually finished the Novel, so I shall be puttering away, as you do. And maybe even updating my word counts to see how well I actually do do.
In the mean time, Happy Thanksgiving to the Americans! Happy Thursday to everyone else. I shall be making PIES.
EGGS:
See:
Some favorite bits:
Theo and Trever need to get into a club to talk to Vampires and undead friendly folk:
The bouncer looked at the two of them. Theo looked back at him. “We’d like in, thank you.”
With extreme exaggeration the bouncer looked at his list. He flicked through the pages pretending to read each name, occasionally glancing up at them. Finally he said. “Sorry you’re not on the list.”
This only made Theo smile a little. Perhaps he would be having too much have fun with this. He crossed his arms and said. “Oh, but I do think I and my friend do not need to be on the list.”
“And why is that?”
“This is the Woolen Cloak, is it not? The club is owned by Ronald DuMoore, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Who runs it for Ember Industries?”
“Yes.”
His smile broadened “I’m Theodred Sammeth. I own this club.”
The bouncer blinked and stared at Theo and Trever and then back at Theo. “One moment,” he grunted. He stepped inside, the music buffeted against him like a gust of wind for a moment as the door opened and then shut.
“You enjoyed that far too much,” Trever said.
“Yes. Sometimes its fun to throw your weight around like that, but don’t tell Enne I said that.”
Trever laughed. “You’re a terrible person.”
The door opened as he said that and the bouncer stuck his head outside as well as another man, unnaturally pale with pink streaked hair slicked back and glitter across his skin: a vampire.
A recent series of vampire harlequin fantasy novels had vampires that naturally sparkled. This series proved to be very popular with young, pretty girls and women so to cash in on this craze, vampires started to coat themselves in sparkling make up and name themselves after characters in the books. It’d worked surprisingly well, much to the concern of persons related to the victims of the sparkling vampires.
Theo pushed up his sunglasses so that his silver eyes showed. Both men balked and then the door shut. “I think I scared them.”
“Ya, think, mate?” Trever drawled.
The door opened again and the vampire stepped out in a slick fake wolf’s coat, dyed a dark green. Thin as a stake he walked over to Theo and bowed. “My Lord, and friend, please, co
me in, if I had known you were coming, I would have made arrangements.”
“It’s fine, it was a split second decision done about a half hour ago.”
“Of course, of course,” the vampire said his voice reedy and as thin as he was. “Please, this way.” He led them inside, constantly glancing back at the two of them. “Our private booth is still open. You’re very lucky.”
From the way he spoke, Theo figured that he really meant they just kicked out who ever was just in that booth. He didn’t say that though. You let the underlings underling for you. That’s what his father always told him. Let them do things for you, don’t comment on if it is good or bad. It keeps them on their toes and doing their things of their own initiative. But if they did something that was completely contrary to your desires, then you destroy them.
Theo wasn’t always sure how he felt about that one. Most of the time he was sure it was a bad thing. He knew it was a bad thing. And then something pissed him off to no end and it didn’t seem like it was a bad thing any more.
Kale and Lan discuss Kale's aunt Ginger, establishing her badass cred in Kale's eyes.
“Adrian gets excited about any new spell that he comes across,” Kale said. He dipped bread in his own bowl of chili after spreading a smear of butter on it. “It’s like candy for him.”
“As opposed to actual candy.”
“That’s energy for him.” Kale managed to get a laugh out of Lan who was looking a bit dour. “But there be nothing dangerous feeling?”
“No, not that I can tell.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Well, it could be. It could also be that the whatever it is in there is so well shielded that I can’t even tell that there’s something dangerous there.
“You Russians are always so dour. You should think more positively,” Kale said.
“You asked,” Lan pointed out, ignoring the jibe.
“Well, as long as it’s not some sort of creature from the unspoken nethers trying to kill me, I think we should be fine.”
“What if it’s a Fairy Lord who wakens up and takes offense to our existence because he thinks that we’re the ones who imprisoned him?”
“My aunty Ginger will take care of it.”
“A dragon?”
“Aunty Ginger.”
“Slavering were-beast waiting for someone to cross its threshold?”
“Aunty Ginger.”
Lan frowned at him. “I didn’t know you had an aunt.”
“She’s not, not really. Virginia Milton is my mother’s great something or another aunt.”
“You’re claiming that Virginia Milton, the monster slayer, keeper of the Virgin Queen’s virginity, and protector of all English Queens hence is related to you?”
Kale held up his hand. “I swear on my honor as an Irish lad, it’s true.”
“Irish lads have no honor,” Rhys said coming into the tent. Lan sniggered as he said that.
“You do me a disservice sir.”
“I do Lan a greater service.” He sat down and took Kale’s bowl of chili. “But, Lan, even though Kale is a lying scum, he’s telling the truth of this.”
Kale bitches Rhys out for wanting to go into the Mysterious Cave Alone. Rhys actually ends up getting bitched out a lot.
“Shall we go in?” Lan asked.
“No. I’ll go by myself.”
“Bollocks,” Kale said. He slammed his keyboard down and stalked over to Rhys. Shaking a finger at him he said, “We are a team. This is a team mission. If you won’t let Adrienne walk onto that bloody damn ghost ship by herself, then you’re sure as hell going to hang before I let you go sauntering off into that cave to something possibly dangerous even if we can’t see if there’s anything there, you be understanding me, mate?”
Lan and Alec looked confused and Adrian didn’t blame them. Kale had slipped into his native Gaelic half way through his tirade.
Continuing in Gaelic, Kale said, “If you even be thinking about going in there by your self, especially in the condition you’re in and Adrian and I know that you aren’t in tip top shape even if you can fool Jan, then I’ll just tie you up and leave yah hanging for some of those guppers I saw in the tide pools down there.”
Rhys look taken aback at that sudden burst from Kale and looked at Adrian for support.
“Sorry Rhys, Kale’s got a point. I’m with him on this.”
“Traitors. Both of you.”
“Three of us,” Lan said, holding up his hand. “I’m with them.” Rhys glowered at him darkly, but Lan stood his ground, improving Adrian’s opinion of him substantially.
Anna talks to a movie star. Nicely.
She smiled at him politely. “Thank you for taking time to meet with me.”
“Of course, how can I help you and the FBI?”
From her briefcase she pulled out a sheaf of photos and laid them down on the table between the glasses of water. “We’ve noticed a very disturbing trend in regards to a series of ritual murders.”
“Oh? And how can I help with that? I’m certainly no murderer or ritualist.” He did lean over to look at the photographs. Or at least he leaned over, his gaze flickering towards Anna’s modestly covered chest more than the pictures themselves.
“Kiiiiick him,” Enne’s voice came over her earpiece. Anna ignored her sister with all an actor’s aplomb. Ogling her chest was completely expected from him. She wasn’t going to get violent, like Enne would like her to, unless he did something completely untoward. Boob staring didn’t count.
“I would certainly hope not,” Anna continued. “It’s just that many of them had something in common with you.”
He waited for her to continue, open faced and eager to hear what it was she had to say. It was quite attentive. No wonder the girls - people - seemed to go crazy for him. He was pretty much acting like the perfect guy. “That would be?”
“They’re all fans.”
Carrey blinked. “I don’t think that’s a very good basis for finding something in
common. I mean I have millions of fans all over the globe.”
“A good point, however we got a tip from a reliable source that seemed to think that you or your fans had something to do with it.” This wasn’t completely true, though Carrey didn’t need to know it. They still didn’t have complete connections to Carrey, but fans had shown up in people connected to the murder, be they family members or the victims themselves. “Someone is using your fan base to commit ritual murder.”
Leaning back, face going pale, Carrey shook his head. “You’re kidding. That’s a stupid lie. No ... why would they be using me to get to the fans. What would they even be using them in the first place? What sort of ritual is it that they’re trying to do, anyway? Raise my ratings?” The disbelief slid into a sneer.
“We’re not sure yet, though there are some similarities to the ritual performed by the Ashling a few years ago.”
He snorted at her. “Similarities. Hah. I read the reports on that incident in preparation for the movie. I’m playing your brother, you know?” he paused for a moment of preening. “Though I think they’re cutting you out.”
“Kiiiiillll him,” Enne said in her ear. Again, Anna ignored her.
Staying composed, she said, “The ritual explicitly was created to re-empower a god. In the Ashling’s case it was to re-empower himself. This one has all the hallmarks of a re-empowerment ritual as well. We think it’s a god of death in this case.”
“How would you come to that conclusion?”
“It’s classified, I’m afraid, but believe me there’s enough evidence to suggest that your fans are being used to fuel a ritual similar in making to the Ashling’s, even though it’s not as … destructive to the countryside… and for a different god.”
“What good would my fan base be? I’ve got nothing to do with any sort of death gods.”
“You, personally don’t, however we think that maybe someone on your personal staff might be using your connections, your fans, for the ritual. We’re looking into them now to see if they have any connections to some death cults.”
“You’re looking into my staff without letting me know?” He snapped angrily, starting to stand up. “That has got to be illegal, doesn’t it?”
“Background checks are not illegal, Mr. Carrey,” Anna continued on as if she weren’t getting more cries of murder in her ear or Carrey looking like he was about to start a scene. “And, if you continue to act like this,” she added, “I will make it very difficult for you to please people.”
She flicked her eyes down towards his lap and took a sip of her water.
He abruptly sat back down.
Coolly she smiled at him. “I’m so glad you understand.” After taking another sip of water and breaking off a piece of one of the long breadsticks that they offered at the restaurant, looking at Carrey meaningfully, she continued. “We have no intention of doing anything illegal. We will keep you informed of things happening in this investigation. The purpose of this meeting is to inform you of what is going on and to see if you might have any insight in regards to your staff.”
“You want me to point out someone who might be … orchestrating these murders,” he said, eyes never leaving the breadstick.
“Exactly.” She twisted it around in her hands. “It would be valuable for us, good PR for you. In the long run it’ll make everyone happy.”
Trying to regain his footing, Carrey took a drink from his own water, staring out past her. “I can tell you this right now. No one under my employ is in any way related to some death cult or is trying to resurrect or re-empower any sort of death god.”
However, I have not actually finished the Novel, so I shall be puttering away, as you do. And maybe even updating my word counts to see how well I actually do do.
In the mean time, Happy Thanksgiving to the Americans! Happy Thursday to everyone else. I shall be making PIES.
EGGS: