Nano day one
Nov. 2nd, 2018 12:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessI have nothing to say other than it was a great kick off AND I am officially now collecting comics again. I set up a pull list. Damn you Neil Gaiman.
I managed to write 5001 words on my nano Xenolith I was shocked because I wasn't sure I could banish freaking Buffyverse out of my head to do this and then I realized, Zvon is basically a slightly better adjusted, one-armed Connor and Arria is sort of a mix of Willow and Faith and Caeles can be an albino Wesley and it was off the freaking races. I'm sure I can't manage to keep that up but who's arguing with this start.
Snippet Fever made the room swim. Walls pulsed and shivered, colored blotches swirling on them. Somewhere in his illness-rule brain, Zvon knew he was hallucinating. The deep, fierce pain in his arm wasn’t a fever-dream nor was Doctor Dobro. He was one of the doctors his father resurrected bodies for. The room reeked of rot. Vaguely Zvon knew the stench came from him. He should be afraid but his nine-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend it. . He was numb. He knew little boys died. Those were graves even his Father wouldn’t disturb. Gosti would. Zvon hated him so much.
“There’s nothing to be done for it. You should have been more careful, Zvonimyr. Who knows what sicknesses are to be found in a putrefying body. You should have brought him to me the moment he was scratched.”
His father shrugged, leaning against the door to their two-room home. “I can find a boy to take his place anywhere. Your care costs. I only called you to see if you wanted his body when it’s done.”
Tears boiled from Zvon’s eyes but he couldn’t force words past his parched lips. How could his father say such things? Was he dying? His father thought so. The well of fear finally opened up, drowning him. Sobs bubbled out of him.
Dobro tsked. “You are a monster, aren’t you? This is partly my fault. I’ll work for free. We might be able to save his life.”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Rati, hand me the bone saw,” Dobro said then put a hand on Zvon’s shoulder. “You need to stay as still as you can, boy.”
Zvon tried to protest but the saw bit into his septic arm and his world ended in pain.
5001 / 50000 words. 10% done!
I managed to write 5001 words on my nano Xenolith I was shocked because I wasn't sure I could banish freaking Buffyverse out of my head to do this and then I realized, Zvon is basically a slightly better adjusted, one-armed Connor and Arria is sort of a mix of Willow and Faith and Caeles can be an albino Wesley and it was off the freaking races. I'm sure I can't manage to keep that up but who's arguing with this start.
Snippet Fever made the room swim. Walls pulsed and shivered, colored blotches swirling on them. Somewhere in his illness-rule brain, Zvon knew he was hallucinating. The deep, fierce pain in his arm wasn’t a fever-dream nor was Doctor Dobro. He was one of the doctors his father resurrected bodies for. The room reeked of rot. Vaguely Zvon knew the stench came from him. He should be afraid but his nine-year-old mind couldn’t comprehend it. . He was numb. He knew little boys died. Those were graves even his Father wouldn’t disturb. Gosti would. Zvon hated him so much.
“There’s nothing to be done for it. You should have been more careful, Zvonimyr. Who knows what sicknesses are to be found in a putrefying body. You should have brought him to me the moment he was scratched.”
His father shrugged, leaning against the door to their two-room home. “I can find a boy to take his place anywhere. Your care costs. I only called you to see if you wanted his body when it’s done.”
Tears boiled from Zvon’s eyes but he couldn’t force words past his parched lips. How could his father say such things? Was he dying? His father thought so. The well of fear finally opened up, drowning him. Sobs bubbled out of him.
Dobro tsked. “You are a monster, aren’t you? This is partly my fault. I’ll work for free. We might be able to save his life.”
“Do whatever you want.”
“Rati, hand me the bone saw,” Dobro said then put a hand on Zvon’s shoulder. “You need to stay as still as you can, boy.”
Zvon tried to protest but the saw bit into his septic arm and his world ended in pain.
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