bending_sickle: (Badass of the Lord)
[personal profile] bending_sickle
OMG, what have I done to Icarus?!? My darling! I'm going to have to write horrible torture scenes for you from Kezef's point of view, aren't I? I love writing Kezef's point of view. I'm so sorry!

And Chipmeister, sorry you're going to be stuck in descriptive "and all this stuff happened, let me recount in quickly" land. At least you're okay, even if you're all broken up over Icarus and seeing Steve really didn't help the mental state you got failing there.

Dean's going through his own personal hell. Again. Oh, my poor characters, they've been broken.

What that ramble means I got through the Scene From Hell and am now in the Aftermath bit, where everyone's trying to recover from the zombiefest and Icarus is AWOL again. Well, not AWOL, exactly, but we need to get him back. Unharmed. Then there will be snuggles.

If you want to know more about the Scene From Hell, check out the previous post, because there's a dialogue summary there that I really would like an opinion on, along the lines of "does any of this make sense?"

So yeah, I spent the whole day writing - it's been raining all day, and I have no life - which means that I'm all caught up to Monday's word count, so even if I did nothing until Tuesday, I'd be fine. That's not going to happen, of course. I'm going to write until the next set word count regardless. Come on, there's a story to be written here!

But omg word count squee! And I wrote 3,334 words today squee! And plot is moving on squee! And I know what's going to happen squee! And WE ARE SO DONE WITH THAT SCENE FROM HELL! Double squee!


In other news, I watched the latest Supernatural and almost lost a lung, I was laughing so hard. Expect a proper review whenever I feel like it, yo. (But probably tomorrow.)

"What'd you do that for?" whined a voice. "Ow, dude, seriously."

Chip thought his heart might break. Standing in front of him, pressing a bloodied hand to the side of his head, stood Steve. Not Steve as the last time he saw him, with stubble, too-obvious cheekbones, and deep circles under his eyes, impossibly red blood spreading across his shirt, sinking into the old blood stains.

This was the Steve he tried to stop remembering because it hurt too much. This was the Steve he’d driven to the airport that last Victoria Day weekend. His ridiculously patterned shirt was freshly ironed – You really need to get a new one, man. – under a tight khaki sweater and tucked away into a worn pair of jeans. Those are mine, you know. You better give 'em back. This was the Steve who bought them both coffee that was too hot to drink for a full ten minutes – Caution: contents may be hot. – and who refused to take back the blue mittens. Your hands are always so damned cold. If I didn’t love you, I’d never let you touch me with those things.



36871 / 50000 words. 74% done!


* Wayne Brady, Whose Line is it Anyway

Date: 2010-11-21 02:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] seschat.livejournal.com
*skips the excerpt because spoilery SPOIIIILERS*! STEVE! STEEEVE! *IS GLEEFUL* Bwahaha, I am so going to read the crap out of that novel, god. I'm so excited! ♥

Also, I hereby declare you the Queen of Awesomeness, because whoot! You did it! :)))



That number on that screen is, like. YOUR WORDCOUNT. !! *CHEERS YOU ON*

Date: 2010-11-21 02:29 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bending-sickle.livejournal.com
OMG HIS LEGS!

...I mean, wee! *hugs you excitedly* ALMOST THERE!

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