NaNoWriMo 2015: And So it begins
Take 16 of "Angel Writes a Novel in November."
This year, it's Mystery of the Monkey God, an Edward and Charlie adventure.
Word count 2191
The opening:
Charles' afternoons off weighed heavily on Edward. They always had, but moreso after the strangeness that had been the Spring of 1924. Edward's erstwhile fiancee, Sarah brown, had blackmailed them into making an arctic expedition to test war machinery for King George.
But somehow, what should have been straightforward turned into a nightmare of leviathan monstrosities, cultists and magic. After their return, neither had spoken of the things they had seen, but Edward found the knowledge cumbersome and wondered if Charles felt the same. The nightmares had finally abated until he once more dreamed of aerial death instead of great protoplasmic nightmares in non-Euclidean cities where the stars were all wrong.
Charles usually spent his days off in London, taking lessons in sorcery from Edward's old mentor. The idea still struck Edward as ridiculous. It wasn't enough that Charles was convinced he was immortal, now Dr. Jarvis Walker was filling his head with magic as well. This week, however, Dr. Walker had canceled the lessons and Charles had simply made himself scarce.
Edward missed him. He understood Charles needed more privacy and time alone than he did, but he was very used to having his secretary at his side, ready to find his matches or say something intelligent or steal a kiss.
He had spent an unproductive morning in an audience with Sarah Brown, which left him in a foul mood. He suspected she had deliberately picked Charles' day off for her appearance. Her secretary, Nigel had trailed in her wake, a wan shadow of himself after the horrors of the Arctic, saying nothing and simply noting all that was said. Edward had felt unwonted sympathy for his former wingman and lover. At least Charles was doing better than that poor shade.
This year, it's Mystery of the Monkey God, an Edward and Charlie adventure.
Word count 2191
The opening:
Charles' afternoons off weighed heavily on Edward. They always had, but moreso after the strangeness that had been the Spring of 1924. Edward's erstwhile fiancee, Sarah brown, had blackmailed them into making an arctic expedition to test war machinery for King George.
But somehow, what should have been straightforward turned into a nightmare of leviathan monstrosities, cultists and magic. After their return, neither had spoken of the things they had seen, but Edward found the knowledge cumbersome and wondered if Charles felt the same. The nightmares had finally abated until he once more dreamed of aerial death instead of great protoplasmic nightmares in non-Euclidean cities where the stars were all wrong.
Charles usually spent his days off in London, taking lessons in sorcery from Edward's old mentor. The idea still struck Edward as ridiculous. It wasn't enough that Charles was convinced he was immortal, now Dr. Jarvis Walker was filling his head with magic as well. This week, however, Dr. Walker had canceled the lessons and Charles had simply made himself scarce.
Edward missed him. He understood Charles needed more privacy and time alone than he did, but he was very used to having his secretary at his side, ready to find his matches or say something intelligent or steal a kiss.
He had spent an unproductive morning in an audience with Sarah Brown, which left him in a foul mood. He suspected she had deliberately picked Charles' day off for her appearance. Her secretary, Nigel had trailed in her wake, a wan shadow of himself after the horrors of the Arctic, saying nothing and simply noting all that was said. Edward had felt unwonted sympathy for his former wingman and lover. At least Charles was doing better than that poor shade.