kayeaton | second draft || [written]

Current Mood: contemplative

Entry tags:

second draft || [written]

All right, I've got to know: Are there any publishing outfits here? In a town this size, the chances seem slim, but for all I know, there's a paper no one's mentioned to me. I've got a story or two started, and if I could see them in print, I wouldn't mind dropping my asking price to zero cents a word. It won't hurt them to sit in handwritten piles in my apartment, of course, but stories are always better when they're shared.

It's strange to think that it's May here. It was November back in Manhattan, and that meant a lot of gray skies and windy days, and some rainy ones. Thanksgiving was coming up; between Julius and I, a whole turkey is a waste of a bird, but we were going to have something nice for dinner nonetheless. And in the meanwhile, it would have been a whole lot of pounding on typewriters and talking, no doubt.

At least I left near the start of the month. Just in case time here doesn't run faster than every other world's time, he's got a few weeks to plan out a story or two about the drunken scientist or the mutant hillbillies, and from there...well, ideally, he'd show up here one of these days, too. And if not, he's written plenty on his own before; he's not about to starve to death just because I'm not there to do my share.

I do miss him, though.

((OOC: And just in case you're curious, when she says drunken scientist and mutant hillbillies, she is, uh. Completely serious.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Mildmay thinks about it for a second, trying to remember what Gideon called it...] A mystery cult? That's what the Cult of the White Lady is. Deals with suicides or something, I dunno. [Mildmay makes the hand signal for warding off hexes almost by reflex.] The guy I knew who was in it wasn't much for talking about it, obviously.

Huh. That problem don't come up where I'm from much, I ain't never heard a word for it before.

[Kay nods, furrowing her own brow at his gesture.] Oh--I see. Er--what's this? [She tries to mimic it, not quite getting it right.]

We haven't quite managed it where I'm from, either, but it's nice to write about.

[Mildmay makes the hand signal again.] Wards off hexes and bad luck, like. The Lady's vicious bad luck, is all I know. She's got fucking mazes and shit.

Is it? What's so bad on your planet y'all need to go snooping around others?

[And Kay mimics it again, this time a little more accurately.] Huh. Interesting superstition.

It's not that Earth's bad--well, some parts of it aren't great, but that's probably true everywhere. It's the opportunity to see someplace new.

[Mildmay raises an eyebrow; he knows that word: Felix uses it all the time, and always with a decided air of condescension.] Right.

Huh. Never thought of it like that, I guess. I ain't much for traveling, though. You think it's a neat idea, all these spaceships?

[Kay shrugs, not sure what exactly to make of his reaction.] I mean it, it's interesting.

Yeah, I do. [And she looks genuinely pleased, because omg spaceships.] Going new places, discovering new societies? It'll be great, once we figure out how to do it.

[Mildmay figures he may as well be polite and explain, but he's already starting to feel awkward from talking so much. He shrugs and says,] Ain't a superstition. [Not to him, anyway.]

Your hocuses ain't got it figured yet, huh? Reckon it'd be difficult, I guess.

Well--interesting, in any case. [A sign to ward off hexes seems like it ought to come out of plague-era Europe--but then, it probably has more use in a place where hexes are a concern.]

We don't have hocuses where I come from. Not like you have, anyway.

[Mildmay is willing to let the matter drop; it ain't Kay's grievance that's making him twitchy, and he knows it, so there ain't no use bothering her about perceived slights and the stigma of being 'superstitious' and from the Lower City, or how Felix likes to crow about the subject, or roll his damn skew-eyes. So Mildmay just nods, cool as rain.]

[This, though, gets Mildmay's attention.] You don't? [Scoff.] That must be nice.

[If Mildmay's dropping the subject, Kay will, too. She just shrugs.] I wouldn't know one way or another--haven't met any, after all. They don't exactly sound like a picnic, but I'd have to go to Mélusine to know for sure.

[Mildmay sighs. Obviously he has Opinions on this.] I'll save you the trouble. I ain't never met a hocus who wasn't bad news for somebody. Magic makes folks stupid, and stupid folks is dangerous.

Easy to say when you've seen some magic before. [--she says dryly, raising an eyebrow.] They're likely just as terrible as you make them sound, but I'd still take the opportunity to meet one if I had it.

I knew better than to go looking for hocus shit when I was younger-- and when I was younger, I didn't know nothing. [This is a decided point... though Mildmay is willing to concede it, for the sake of diplomacy, and because Kay is getting snarky with him, so he probably managed to piss her off somehow. Nice one, Milly-fox.] But I guess if you ain't got any, it can be ...curious.

[Kay's not actually annoyed, and maybe someday Mildmay will come to realize that she's just a little wry in general. D: ~~God, I've been overusing 'wry' lately.~~] Might just be a matter of personality, too. They have planes, where you're from?

[Mildmay scoffs.] Course they got planes. Where d'you think folks in the flatlands live?

No, not plains, planes. Airplanes.

...Never heard of 'em.

They're, uh, vehicles--[She's never had to explain planes before, give her a sec]--here, I'll draw it.

[Kay draws an airplane as viewed from above, a bit awkwardly. There's a reason she doesn't illustrate her own stuff.] You get into this part, right? [She indicates the body of the plane.] And when everyone's strapped in, they get it going fast enough that it lifts off the ground--and then there you are, thousands of feet above the ground until you touch back down somewhere else. Would you try one, if someone offered you a ticket?

[Mildmay looks gobsmacked and a little terrified.] Fuck, no. Sounds like a great way to die screaming.

I dunno, it wasn't too bad when I went. [She's smiling again, not unkindly.] Anyway, maybe you're just not as likely to take risks you don't have to.

I mean... if I had to, I would. But it wouldn't exactly be my idea of a good time.

[Still sounds awful. Mildmay would prefer not to think about it, or what, exactly, Kay's smile means.] And them things're common where you're from?

No one used planes but the military when I was a girl, but they're common enough now. [Kay shrugs.] Beats taking a ship somewhere, anyway. It's eight or nine hours to fly across the Atlantic Ocean. It'd be a couple days if you sailed.

[This still makes no sense to Mildmay, but he figures he can deal with that, so long as he never has to set foot in one of the damned things.] Make sense, I suppose. Sounds like the sorta thing you'd pay through the nose for.

A good room in a ship isn't exactly cheap, either. [It's rather more pleasant, Kay would admit if pressed, but it's not exactly efficient enough to be cost-effective.] And if you're going all the way to another country, you might as well try and get as much time there as you can.

Yeah, you got me there. But I still wouldn't go in one just for the fuck of it or nothing.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

second draft || [written]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

Re: [action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]

[action.]