Scribbling here, Scrabbling there...
Well my world map for OWP is coming along very well. I have a very serviceable continent with a few mountain ranges and large rivers--I'm toying with the idea of adding a desert, or at least a very arid plain. I want it to be as realistic as possible. So now I'm working on climates and the various levels of fertility in soil and other things. All in all, it's shaping up very nicely even though I keep thinking of new things that I need to change/add/know, I'm glad that I'm thinking of them now as opposed to at the end of the manuscript.
That's the good news. The bad news is that I'm being encouraged (Not that I'm pointing fingers *cough*
comeon_eileen *coughcough*) to write out my movieverse fic. I've even come up with two half good titles: A Touch of Rogue or A Rogue's Touch. (Personally, I like A Touch of Rogue better because of the play on rogue/rouge.) And I came up with a perfect intro this morning. Here's the little bit that I've managed to get done at work:
Imagine going for a month without touching anybody. It’s not by choice, like for some sort of strange experiment. It’s a disease-one that’s infected you and will harm anyone that you touch.
It gets worse-because instead of being quarantined like the dangerous pathogen you are, they let you walk around outside, with regular people. People who touch in front of you, behind you, beside you. People who you could touch, if you wanted to hurt them, if you wanted to risk their life.
But touch isn’t supposed to be about pain. Even if sometimes you want to touch them anyway, just so you can. Even if sometimes you want to cause them pain, because they can and you can’t.
But you don’t.
You take what precautions you can, wear gloves and long pants and sleeves. But it’s not enough. You’re hyper-aware of everyone around you. Any time someone gets too close to your personal space, you tense. If someone dares to touch you through your clothing-brush your sleeve arm, perhaps, or a cautious side hug, your heart speeds up-not just from the contact, but because you’re waiting for something to go wrong.
Crowds start to make you dizzy. You feel like you can never be too far away, like you can never be too close.
Now imagine living that way for four years. They call that my gift.
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There's more, but I wouldn't want to post it all here, 'cause, well it just sort of drops off after the transition into the REAL introduction of the story. Basically, I'd be writing a continuation from X3 focused on Marie without her powers and then finally turning her into the Rogue that we all know and love. I'm betting I can make that transition in ten chapters or less. I think it'd be worth it just for that--keeping her Marie and then turning her into Rogue.
But I'm tired, busy, and have limited writing time. It's just that this idea keeps gnawing at me...