WIP Wednesday slides in under the line
6 Jan
Last minute, but it’s not my fault– my connection is being a jerk. Really!
I actually got a lot done today, both in terms of reading and writing, and yesterday I managed a very, very rough outline. Considering the stupid amount of storylines I felt it necessary to include in this little project, I’m all right with it being rough. Feels like a major accomplishment.
I’ve also decided that this particular book needs to be called Plaguebringer. Until I change it again, of course.
Anyhow, here’s a weird little intro for a character I’ve had with me for a long time, Rufus. He’s a brown-skinned, pointy-eared islander with an unaccountable fondness for knives. He’s currently in a country peopled with pale superstitious types with an unaccountable fondness for, er, fur. Contrary to what most of them believe, he is not an elf, he is not a faery, he is certainly not a brownie, and he cannot grant wishes for you if you rub his belly.
But you’re welcome to try.
Or just start a barfight with him, like Ginger and Toothless (for such are his terms of endearment for them) here just did. What a way to treat tourists, huh?
Heart thudding pleasantly, Rufus uncoiled. He popped the knife out of his right vambrace with a tick of his finger, and ducked a wild punch. The effort threw Toothless off balance, so that Rufus was at liberty to stab through the fur of the man’s collar, then slam the knife into the nearest support beam, pinning him there. While Toothless screamed, no doubt imagining his lily white neck torn open, Rufus tripped the release on the hilt. A click and a thunk sounded as two pins sprang from the blade at a ninety-degree angles. They were made to anchor in much softer stuff than wood, but it was worth a try.
Sure enough, the moment the man realized he wasn’t bleeding to death, he jerked to get at Rufus. The clever little knife held, and Toothless ended up red-faced, choked by his own jacket.
Rufus danced out of his reach. “Really, gentlemen. This is just embarrassing.”
The words seemed to knock Ginger out of an awe-stricken stupor; he roared and lunged for him.
Rufus had two options, as he saw it: kill them both before they blinked again, or make them look like fools. While the former idea had its charms, even he knew that the latter was the more appropriate, given the situation. Not to mention that it upped the odds of getting the red-headed barmaid upstairs later. Murdering two of her patrons in the middle of her tap room would very likely have the opposite effect.
Unless she was into that.
—————-
Now playing: Black Rebel Motorcycle Club – Awake
via FoxyTunes
Plaguebringer.
Hell. Yes.
Hope she’s into point ears! Then again, what woman wouldn’t be?
Jeremy, I’ll consider that one vote for keeping it! I kind of like it, but it’s so dramatic. And I refuse to take it seriously– even if it might bet he apocalypse, they’re going to do it in style!
Nat, this is what I’m saying. After Spock, I never looked back, myself.
I love that title…
That had a little bit of noir in it. I like that.
High praise from you, Cate. You are the official Queen of Titles. Eee!
Jamie, I like that description– Rufus is a little bit noir, for sure.
SQUEE!!!!
Even if I hadn’t already been dying to read this book, Rufus would completely put me there.
Weird. I posted here earlier, it ate it, I tried to re-post, and it said I’d already posted that comment. And now it’s still not here.
*shakes Internet*
Anyway, what I said amounted to the following:
<3! That snippet is awesome, and especially knowing the amount of world-building that went into this, I have no doubt the end result will be – well – even more awesome. It’ll be great. Milk the honeymoon stage for as long as it lasts!
Meghan, well, you know
Cory, thank you for sharing in my weird honeymoon moment– even if wordpress tried to thwart you. Stupid wordpress…