seventh draft || [kidnapped! as stevenson would've called it]
Well, that was pretty swell, wasn't it?
[The voice is a cheery one. Kay's sitting out in the living room of the house, chatting into the book with a stack of papers on either side of her. Seemed like a good day to try editing somewhere other than her room.]
It was great seeing everyone at the opening of Cloud Nine on Friday. Weekends from here on out, think about stopping in and...what the--?
[Someone listening especially carefully would have heard a muffled bang, the sound of a door being forced open. She stares up at the three shining metal men walking toward her, inexorably toward her, her eyes wide with a dawning horror. Their build is familiar; their modus operandi, more so. These ones travel in packs, but no one said fiction was perfect. Her voice grows higher and quieter, closer to a breath than anything, a note of panic entering her words.]
Oh, my God, you aren't--you can't be--
[But they keep coming toward her, with solemn steps, and she's convinced entirely that she knows what they are. Droids, sure, but more importantly--far more importantly--a Fury. She hadn't known it was Furies that collected people to take them away.]
Oh, my God.
I wrote you.
[The journal feed cuts off then, and very soon, there's nothing left but a floor and davenport scattered liberally with sheets of white paper, covered in typeset words marked over with blue pencil.]
((OOC: So the thing with the drones is that they're reminiscent of the Furies in Kuttner and Moore's excellent story, "Two-Handed Engine." (Highly recommended, btw. I think it's my single favourite of their collaborations.) Here, have a description:
"The thing was quite close now. It looked to be about seven feet tall, and its motion was very smooth, which was unexpected when you thought about it. Smoother than human motions, its feet fell with a heavy, measured tread upon the carpet. Thud, thud, thud. [...] You had always heard that they made no sound except for that terrible tread, but this one creaked very slightly somewhere. It had no features, but the human mind couldn't help sketching in lightly a sort of airy face upon that blank steel surface, with eyes that seemed to search the room."
Close enough for government work. So Kay's first reaction is hoshit, sorry for making these things possible, Luceti, even if that's not quite accurate.
Meanwhile, I really ought to spend today getting ready for my trip tomorrow, so best wishes to you all! I'll try and get a few more tags in on that log, and if I don't manage, I'll see you in a week.))
[The voice is a cheery one. Kay's sitting out in the living room of the house, chatting into the book with a stack of papers on either side of her. Seemed like a good day to try editing somewhere other than her room.]
It was great seeing everyone at the opening of Cloud Nine on Friday. Weekends from here on out, think about stopping in and...what the--?
[Someone listening especially carefully would have heard a muffled bang, the sound of a door being forced open. She stares up at the three shining metal men walking toward her, inexorably toward her, her eyes wide with a dawning horror. Their build is familiar; their modus operandi, more so. These ones travel in packs, but no one said fiction was perfect. Her voice grows higher and quieter, closer to a breath than anything, a note of panic entering her words.]
Oh, my God, you aren't--you can't be--
[But they keep coming toward her, with solemn steps, and she's convinced entirely that she knows what they are. Droids, sure, but more importantly--far more importantly--a Fury. She hadn't known it was Furies that collected people to take them away.]
Oh, my God.
I wrote you.
[The journal feed cuts off then, and very soon, there's nothing left but a floor and davenport scattered liberally with sheets of white paper, covered in typeset words marked over with blue pencil.]
((OOC: So the thing with the drones is that they're reminiscent of the Furies in Kuttner and Moore's excellent story, "Two-Handed Engine." (Highly recommended, btw. I think it's my single favourite of their collaborations.) Here, have a description:
"The thing was quite close now. It looked to be about seven feet tall, and its motion was very smooth, which was unexpected when you thought about it. Smoother than human motions, its feet fell with a heavy, measured tread upon the carpet. Thud, thud, thud. [...] You had always heard that they made no sound except for that terrible tread, but this one creaked very slightly somewhere. It had no features, but the human mind couldn't help sketching in lightly a sort of airy face upon that blank steel surface, with eyes that seemed to search the room."
Close enough for government work. So Kay's first reaction is hoshit, sorry for making these things possible, Luceti, even if that's not quite accurate.
Meanwhile, I really ought to spend today getting ready for my trip tomorrow, so best wishes to you all! I'll try and get a few more tags in on that log, and if I don't manage, I'll see you in a week.))