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keaalu*write, write, write* *auuugh writers block*
...be a good brain and do what I want, yeh? Stop forgetting all the dialogue you just came up with.
(Note: But if you start writing something like this ("OMG FURSECUTION") I may be forced to trade in for BrainDOS 2.1)
All right, some notes. Because I can, because it's *MY* journal dammit. Mind, these are just brainscribbles. Just watch they don't BITE.
-----
“Oh-kay, so, question… Where are we this time, oh little captain mine?”
Dauntless’ bridge was eerily quiet, for a change; most of the little ship’s “crew” had temporarily abandoned ship. Ren and Lena had disembarked on Ondra Prime, for a long and well-earned break with their two infant children, Lark and Linnet. Riiva had hauled Lii away for training as a “cultural attaché” to the Coalition, and Azure had opted to follow her intended, and she’d hung off his arm on the way down the ramp like it was exactly where she belonged. Even Onyx, Slate’s Lifepartner and bonded mate, was off the bridge, down in the engine room tinkering with his latest toy, a probable-gimmick he’d acquired off an “honest and trustworthy” Nyenni male in the trade centre of Ondra spaceyard. It left Ivy with a painful trepidation – the idea her family may be breaking apart around her… she didn’t allow herself to think about it.
Only Slate himself had stuck around on the bridge, boredly hoping this new world they’d found would be more interesting than the last. He wouldn’t leave Dauntless without Onyx, of course (and some days Onyx seemed more a part of the ship than Ivy did), but he was neither engineer nor scientist and some of these protracted journeys drove him nearly insane with boredom.
“This world isn’t on our charts,” Ivy supplied. “We must have grav-hopped further than we intended. Remember the turbulence a while back?”
Slate nodded, and leaned over the back of the pilot’s chair to get a look at Ivy’s screen. “Habitable?” he asked, watching the world rotate slowly outside the panoramic windows. It was comparatively small, blue-green and decorated with wisps of fine cloud, and made an attractive change to all the stone moons and gas giants they’d seen lately.
“Habited,” she confirmed. “There’s a lot of life down there.”
“Makes a change from comet-chasing,” he smiled wryly down at her.
“Come on, let’s go down there, go see it,” he enthused, tugging her arms.
She gave him a dubious look. “They don’t appear to have space-travel.”
“So? Lack of space travel doesn’t necessarily mean lack of technology-”
“Come on,” he smiled his most winning smile and clasped his hands in front of him. “We’ll be incognito. Where’s the problem?”
“Aw, Vee, you used to be all for this exploring lark – feet first and in we go…?”
She smiled, tiredly. “Let’s just say bitter experience has made me a little more wary of where I put those feet. They could be as bad as Kiravai down there.”
“Maybe,” he accepted, spreading his hands. “They could equally be le’Trai in another guise, though. Won’t know unless we ask, right?”
“Magpie?”
“Yes, captain?” There was a flicker toward the back of the bridge and Magpie ‘stepped’ into view; the ship’s SI was usually listening in, and soon showed herself if she was directly spoken to.
Ivy rolled her eyes at the use of ‘captain’ – Magpie still had something of a knee-jerk and had to call her creator/commander something, and ‘Ivy’ hadn’t really sunk in, yet. It was almost a daily battle to just get her to stop calling her ‘mistress’. “Look after yourself while we’re gone. If any threat of any sort shows up, you are to hide yourself – is that understood?”
“Affirmed,” Magpie closed her eyes and inclined her sleek black head in agreement, drifting toward the fore of the control cabin while Slate and Ivy headed for the corridor at the back. “Safe journey.”
“Safe journey,” Ivy grumbled, softly, following Slate’s swinging tail. “That would be too much to hope for.”
...be a good brain and do what I want, yeh? Stop forgetting all the dialogue you just came up with.
(Note: But if you start writing something like this ("OMG FURSECUTION") I may be forced to trade in for BrainDOS 2.1)
All right, some notes. Because I can, because it's *MY* journal dammit. Mind, these are just brainscribbles. Just watch they don't BITE.
-----
“Oh-kay, so, question… Where are we this time, oh little captain mine?”
Dauntless’ bridge was eerily quiet, for a change; most of the little ship’s “crew” had temporarily abandoned ship. Ren and Lena had disembarked on Ondra Prime, for a long and well-earned break with their two infant children, Lark and Linnet. Riiva had hauled Lii away for training as a “cultural attaché” to the Coalition, and Azure had opted to follow her intended, and she’d hung off his arm on the way down the ramp like it was exactly where she belonged. Even Onyx, Slate’s Lifepartner and bonded mate, was off the bridge, down in the engine room tinkering with his latest toy, a probable-gimmick he’d acquired off an “honest and trustworthy” Nyenni male in the trade centre of Ondra spaceyard. It left Ivy with a painful trepidation – the idea her family may be breaking apart around her… she didn’t allow herself to think about it.
Only Slate himself had stuck around on the bridge, boredly hoping this new world they’d found would be more interesting than the last. He wouldn’t leave Dauntless without Onyx, of course (and some days Onyx seemed more a part of the ship than Ivy did), but he was neither engineer nor scientist and some of these protracted journeys drove him nearly insane with boredom.
“This world isn’t on our charts,” Ivy supplied. “We must have grav-hopped further than we intended. Remember the turbulence a while back?”
Slate nodded, and leaned over the back of the pilot’s chair to get a look at Ivy’s screen. “Habitable?” he asked, watching the world rotate slowly outside the panoramic windows. It was comparatively small, blue-green and decorated with wisps of fine cloud, and made an attractive change to all the stone moons and gas giants they’d seen lately.
“Habited,” she confirmed. “There’s a lot of life down there.”
“Makes a change from comet-chasing,” he smiled wryly down at her.
“Come on, let’s go down there, go see it,” he enthused, tugging her arms.
She gave him a dubious look. “They don’t appear to have space-travel.”
“So? Lack of space travel doesn’t necessarily mean lack of technology-”
“Come on,” he smiled his most winning smile and clasped his hands in front of him. “We’ll be incognito. Where’s the problem?”
“Aw, Vee, you used to be all for this exploring lark – feet first and in we go…?”
She smiled, tiredly. “Let’s just say bitter experience has made me a little more wary of where I put those feet. They could be as bad as Kiravai down there.”
“Maybe,” he accepted, spreading his hands. “They could equally be le’Trai in another guise, though. Won’t know unless we ask, right?”
“Magpie?”
“Yes, captain?” There was a flicker toward the back of the bridge and Magpie ‘stepped’ into view; the ship’s SI was usually listening in, and soon showed herself if she was directly spoken to.
Ivy rolled her eyes at the use of ‘captain’ – Magpie still had something of a knee-jerk and had to call her creator/commander something, and ‘Ivy’ hadn’t really sunk in, yet. It was almost a daily battle to just get her to stop calling her ‘mistress’. “Look after yourself while we’re gone. If any threat of any sort shows up, you are to hide yourself – is that understood?”
“Affirmed,” Magpie closed her eyes and inclined her sleek black head in agreement, drifting toward the fore of the control cabin while Slate and Ivy headed for the corridor at the back. “Safe journey.”
“Safe journey,” Ivy grumbled, softly, following Slate’s swinging tail. “That would be too much to hope for.”
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(no subject)
Date: 4 Jan 2006 12:42 am (UTC)My reccomendation - Find the author, and beat him/her senseless with a cuttlefish.
Actually, I meant carry around a small notepad at all times for when you do come up with dialoge. That or a voice recorder- In case you think faster than you can write (my problem).
Though the first suggestion's good, too.
(no subject)
Date: 4 Jan 2006 12:45 am (UTC)Yeah, but I tend to come up with dialogue in the shower or making tea or on the bus and by the time I come to WRITE IT... it's gone. Oh well.
(no subject)
Date: 4 Jan 2006 11:08 am (UTC)