#ww&dp: mqta

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Worldbuilding - MQTA

MQTA being my WIP “More Questions Than Answers”.

Okay, as promised this is going to be about the ‘structure’ of the supernatural / ‘deity’ world that this WIP (and potentially others - I haven’t decided yet) is set in. I’ll apologise for the areas that have gaps in them, but as I said previously I’ve only just rediscovered this in an old notebook, so it does need some more work doing on it. There should be enough here to give you a good flavour of what’s going on.

Also, I use the term “Pantheon” as a descriptor for this hierarchy. This is not designed to be a direct re-working of the Greek mythology Pantheon, I’m using it as a placeholder description - you won’t see the names of Greek gods / goddesses being used within this.

Details follow underneath the cut (as it’s fairly long and I’ve now discovered how to insert a cut!)

The above is a rough outline of how each of the different categories are related to each other. I’ll deal with each of them below:

* The Ancients: Akin to the ‘Elder Gods’ from the Cthulhu Mythos. Not actually gods, but supremely powerful beings who have existed for eons. Mostly in hibernation, awaiting ‘something’.

* Servitors: This is an umbrella term that covers ‘lesser’ servant races. They’re generally blunt tools to do a simple job. Some races may have more talents than others.

* The Illustrated: Also known as the tattooed ones. They’re not really referenced in common tomes. Living, breathing tomes of lore and more. They’re targets for everyone. This trait is encoded into human (and possibly other races’) DNA. There will usually be a set number of them in existence (5, I think) at any one time. Chosen who also have this trait will ‘inherit’ the tattoos of any Illustrated that dies unnaturally.

* The Elders: These are a variety of races / creatures that are similar to the Great Old Ones (Cthulhu, et al from the Mythos).

* The Ascended: Powerful creatures created / designed by the Ancients. They are looking for signs that they can start to awaken their creators with purpose.

* The Awakened: Humans (or other races) who are supremely talented in one or more ways. There is a relationship with Walkers and Pathfinders (e.g. they can sometimes cross rifts in the multiverse), but the Ascended are interested in them for their talents.

* The Chosen: Those with multiple talents, even a combination of Awakened and Enlightened (possibly Illustrated as well). They are extremely dangerous and rare. Multiple meanings are attached to these by cults.

* The Enlightened: Highly talented / powered sorcerers - either from birth or through training / progression.

* The Fallen: Every Mythos / religion has its ‘evil’ element. Created by accident, not design (unlike the Ascended).

* The Tormented: Meta-humans who are being ‘punished’ for some reason. They are used as unreliable tools, given their status as mistakes. Vampires, Werewolves, etc would fall into this category.

* The Abandoned: Mostly psychotic or sociopathic, but they are completely lucid when it comes to their abilities. A rough equivalent to the Chosen, but with a potential combination from Benighted and Tormented (and Illustrated).

* The Benighted: As in - lacking morals (to the extreme). A rough equivalent to the Enlightened.

* The Walkers: Slightly outside of the rest of the hierarchy, but they can be bound. While they are amoral (as we see it) they don’t deliberately do harm. They’re essentially explorers of the multiverse.

* Pathfinders: Able to navigate the multiverse and to act as a beacon. This can be a passive or active ability. They also see things as they really are (can see through glamours / illusions). They are solely related to the Walkers and not the rest of the Pantheon.

The good / evil split between Ascended and Fallen (and below) has been put in place by humans. In reality there is no such split. One side view humanity as tools to be used as they see fit and the other as playthings to be used and abused. Chosen and Abandoned are rare - those with all 3 ability types are rarer still (Chosen = Enlightened + Awakened + Illustrated; Abandoned = Tormented + Benighted + Illustrated).

The amount of power, etc. required to contact / summon Ascended / Elders / Ancients is exponentially increased. Modern communication represents a real danger of a successful Elder / Ancient contact / summoning (e-mails, mobiles, skype, etc. can be used to perform ‘virtual’ or distributed rituals).

Sacrifice - The transformation of energy from one form to another, i.e. using it to summon something, is a low-tech solution for a previously high-tech process. Methods available at the time that those who left the knowledge were last here can be achieved without an actual human (or other sentient being) if a suitable energy source is available (generator, power plant, etc.)

There are two potential parallels for the Pantheon:

1.

* Ancients = Primeval / Ancient Gods (almost like broad concepts, e.g. Earth, Love, Chaos, etc.) * Elders = Titans (from Greek mythology) * Fallen / Ascended = Olympians (again, from Greek mythology)

2.

* Ancients -> Gods * Elders -> Demi-Gods * Fallen -> Demons * Ascended -> Angels This isn’t an exact match, but for example a liquid-dwelling creature that has power over liquids could equate to the Poseidon / Neptune of mythology.

Myths and legends must be based on something, however corrupted it’s got, so why not creatures from the stars / other dimensions?

I’ve not yet decided if other fantasy creatures (fae, etc.) will be a part of this, but it’s a distinct possibility. I have a feeling that this is going to grow and develop as the story (and, hopefully, sequels) progresses.

Tagging: @therska, @bookishdiplodocus, @elaynab-writing, @kiramartinauthor, @themerrywriter, @siarven, @adie-dee, @sad-witchy-writeblr, @goddessofnothingatall, @cawolters, @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric, @stephrawlingwrites, @fukusigma, @alixismad, @lillayalightfoot, @theimportanceofbeingbookish, @seadrianwrites, @writewritewriteblr, @bexminx, @queenie-dragon

As always, if you have any comments or want to be added to / removed from the tag list, please let me know via Comment / Ask / PM / DM.

[writingwordsanddrawingpictures]

The Girls, Girls, Girls Tag

Guide: answer these seven Qs in the voice of your female character(s), and then tag somebody!

So, I was tagged in this by the wonderful @cawolters (and if you’re not following her already, why not and go check her out!) and thought I’d complete this for one of my characters from More Questions Than Answers. There might be some spoilers in here, but as MQTA is still at the draft 0 / 1 stage so there might be a lot of changes before it’s finished!

Meet Kat.

Who was your mother and what did she teach you?

My mother was...well, I *think* she was Isobella Genevieve D’Antonio. At least, that’s the name I’ve found, and her picture looks familiar.

I can remember my mother helping me to refine my art, and also - as an odd mix - some psychology including how to read people and some forensic psychology. I think she thought it would keep me safe...*sigh*

Do you have any sisters (related or not)?

I think so... I remember one and I can see her face, but I can’t remember her name or hear her voice in any memories I have of her. I need to find her, especially if she’s in as much trouble as I am.

I also have a found sister in Erin Winter. She’s whip-smart, fiercely loyal, resourceful and, I think, very much in love with Carter - not that he can see it.

How has your gender shaped your path in life?

I’ve seen both sides - my mother came from money, so we could afford whatever we needed. When I had to work after my parents died, I had to prove I was worth far more than my male counterparts - well, the police isn’t an easy job. After that, proving myself as a female PI has been...challenging. Starting out was hard, but now I have a reputation that evens the playing field.

What does the woman you admire look like? Who is she?

Olive-skinned, deep brown kind eyes, long black hair, a ready smile...  Yes, my mother - I just wish I could remember her properly. I have the images, but can't remember her voice.

Someone I can remember properly and admire is the 6 foot brunette, brown eyed goddess of a woman I’ve been getting to know recently. *sigh* Erin... How the hell are you mixed up in this?

Why do you think women are considered the gentler sex?

*laughs* Ah, there are some deluded people around. What more can I say.

What is a piece of your personality that you are proud of?

Determination. I’m remembering things now, but I still have gaps on a lot of critical things. I’m not going to rest until I get answers about exactly who I am and what’s happened to my family.

When did you accept your own body and its strengths/weaknesses?

Almost dying does make you accept your weaknesses, and recovering from horrific injuries lets you see the buried strength and determination you never knew you had.

Hopefully this makes some sense as I’ve written it with a bit of brain fog. Kat’s been a long-standing OC, so I’ve got most of an idea about her. It's been interesting filling in a couple of blanks about her.

I’ll tag: @kira-desomma, @elaynab-writing, @adie-dee, @goddessofnothingatall, @crowswritetoo, @aeschknight, @themerrywriter, @roselinproductions, @pens-swords-stuff

If you’ve already done it or don’t want to, don’t worry about it.

[writingwordsanddrawingpictures]

More Questions Than Answers - Featuring Kat

Since I completed @cawolters Girls, Girls, Girls tag prompt on Friday for Kat (a character from MQTA), I thought it might be a good idea to re-post an excerpt from that story for you all - especially as it was last year when I first posted this and before a lot of you started following me!

This is a random scene which is currently planned to be a flashback (yeah, I know, but sometimes we need them) from late on in the book. Strangely for me, there’s not a huge amount of dialogue in this one, but it is much more of a narrative / action sequence although it is currently unfinished (and very much draft 0 / 1 stage).

The extract is under the cut. Trigger warnings for: violence, blood, death, swearing, cultists.

Tagging: @themerrywriter, @bexminx, @bookishdiplodocus, @therska, @adie-dee, @theimportanceofbeingbookish, @roselinproductions, @farrradays, @kira-desomma, @aeschknight, @pens-swords-stuff, @fukusigma, @alixismad

As always, if you want on or off (no offense will be taken) the list for this WIP, let me know.

Contrary to what many people thought, Kat had always felt that waiting was the easiest part. It was only when action was called for that carefully considered plans tended to fall apart and quickly turn into crap. She lay motionless in a large branch of a tree, observing the comings and goings around her. There’d been a lot of activity in the couple of hours since she’d set herself up in her current roost, and none of it looked good. There was definitely something large planned for tonight, and while it vindicated her source, it disturbed her greatly given the group that she was now dealing with. On the surface they seemed to be another bunch of disaffected, slightly odd eccentrics but there was something else about them now that Kat couldn’t put her finger on, and that worried her. A lot. She slowly let out a breath while she scanned over her field of vision, limited by the mass of branches and new growth that was also serving to keep her out of sight - well, that and the fact she was dressed completely in black against a pitch black night. She stopped her panning across the vista below her and held her breath. ‘Shit’ she thought as she caught sight of what she’d been dreading - not just handguns, but some SMGs and the odd assault rifle and shotgun. And here she was with just a pistol (unsilenced, sadly) and an extendible baton… Okay, she had a few little surprises planned as well, but she had the definite feeling that the time for waiting was rapidly disappearing and the time for things to go to shit were rushing at her. The problem with the robes that cultists (let’s call them what they are, shall we?) tend to be drawn to is that they can cover a multitude of concealed weapons… The advantage of them is that they can also get in the way if you’re not used to fighting in them - very much a double-edged sword.

Kat released the rest of the breath slowly and noiselessly, and resumed her surveillance with a renewed focus. After another half an hour or so, the mood seemed to switch - lights came on in the clearing ahead of her, drowning out the (oh-so-traditional) flaming torches, and a large number of the cultists who’d been patrolling the woods moved inwards toward the clearing. This was both good and bad - good in that when she came to make her move, she’d stand a better chance of getting there unnoticed; bad because when she got there, she thought all hell would break loose. Possibly literally. She took another look around the clearing and saw her main target - clearly identifiable in the showy robes and carrying … yes, one of the stolen books in his hands. It was an ugly looking thing, and very likely bound in human skin - always de-rigour for true tomes of any standing. She took a minute to make her mental inventory of where her baton, pistol and spare clips were, along with her other toys, and slid the sight she’d been using back into her belt (wishing that she had the rifle that went with it).

Kat glanced around her, saw that the remaining guards were further out in the woods, and slid herself gracefully and silently back down the tree using barely noticeable hand and foot holds. Once back on the ground, she slid the baton out of her belt and readied it in her right hand. “Repeat after me: We are not at home to Mr Fuckup.” she whispered to herself, a familiar mantra in these situations. She slid through the gloom, her feet managing to pick their way through the odd fallen branch and other woodland detritus almost of their own accord. She stopped behind the trunk of a tree as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching her. She held her breath and waited until the footsteps were directly on the other side of the tree, readying herself to keep the tree between her and the guard. Unexpectedly the footsteps stopped, followed by a brief grunting and the sound of layers of clothing brushing past each other. Silence followed for a moment, then the sound of a stream of fluid hitting the tree and the undergrowth below it. 'You have got to be kidding me.’ Kat thought, keeping her breathing as shallow as possible. The stream started to subside, then stopped for a second, and started up again back at full force. 'Why do I have to get the one with the horse’s bladder?’ Kat fumed silently, waiting for the flow to stop, studiously ignoring the occasional spray that flew past the side of the tree. Kat’s head span round and she peered into the gloom behind her. A second later there was the sound of a distant crunch in that direction. Another guard was heading this way… She weighed up her options quickly and span round the tree trunk, flipping the baton out as she went. The guard never knew what hit him - one second he was (still) in mid flow, the next something connected with the back of his head in a blur and he went down like a puppet whose strings had been cut, smacking his forehead on the trunk on the way down. She swore to herself, and hoped it would be written off as clumsiness as she slid back into the darkness. 'We are not at home to Mr Fuckup. We are not at home to Mr Fuckup.’ Kat’s mantra ran through her head as she slipped silently from shadow to shadow, closing in on the clearing and the potential home of Mr Fuckup.

Kat’s progress had slowed to a crawl, as she could hear more voices than she was comfortable with in the clearing ahead - plus the fact that the cultists had rigged up some electric lights in the clearing, rather than using the traditional flaming torches. In some ways, it was nice to see them starting to embrace a few modern touches, but in others their use of lights and firearms was positively annoying. She was taking stock of her position and definitely not liking the odds. A wide open clearing was one thing, but having a crowd of potentially gun-toting cultists was something else. She’d known coming into this that they were more well organised than most, hence why she’d recced the area well ahead and had set up some insurance policies in case Mr Fuckup and his extended family came to stay after all. She let out her breath slowly, camped out underneath a couple of bushes and waited for her opportunity to move to a good vantage point. She’d spotted a likely looking tree on her way to these bushes - she remembered that it overlooked the clearing perfectly and was luckily not being illuminated by the pesky lights. She could also decamp from it in a hurry, which made it her best option - other than trying the old 'disguise’ ploy, which was really like hanging out a sign for the Fuckups to come stay.

The flow of bodies into the clearing stopped, and Kat scanned where the guards where. It looked like she should be able to make it to and up into her tree in between their rounds, provided there were no surprises. She saw the guard nearest her walk away and counted the seconds away mentally. Reaching 15, she slid from under the bushes and across to a fallen trunk, pausing for a count of 4, then dashed over to the tree barely making any noise. As she reached the tree, instead of stopping she leapt up and grabbed hold of a sturdy branch about two feet above her head, swinging herself up onto it in one fluid motion. Quickly glancing around and now counting down from 20, she shimmied up the trunk and onto the large branch that she’d spied on her recce - big enough to hold her, with a slight depression in the middle of it as if two branches had grown together years ago, and enough foliage to keep her away from all but the most curious observer. '4.. 3.. 2.. 1..’ her mental countdown ended just as the guard returned on his path, directly under her new hiding place. She granted herself a quick flicker of a grin, then her face went back to pure concentration as she slid her scope back out and settled in to see what was in store with tonight’s show. 'Please be amateurs, please be amateurs’ Kat thought to herself, scanning the scene in the clearing. 'Ah fuck.’ Tonight was not to be as simple as Kat had been hoping. The clearing looked far too organised for these guys to be complete amateurs. There was a makeshift altar set up in the middle, and atop it was a knife on a silk cushion that caused a chill to run down Kat’s spine. It looked ancient, and it looked like it had seen an awful lot, but the edges of it gleamed as if they could split daylight. 'Obsidian? How?’ Kat thought to herself, but that was just the start. On another cushion was an old book that could have been leather bound - at least she hoped it was - and she swore as she couldn’t see anything on it to determine the title of it from. Either in front or behind the makeshift altar there was an area roughly 7 feet in diameter that was completely empty, even the undergrowth had been removed from it leaving just bare earth. Worrying enough, but there was also a ring of something stark white delineating it that gave it just that extra edge of worry - particularly as it was a bloody perfect circle. 'This just gets better and better’ Kat thought, frowning. Glancing back at the altar, Kat caught sight of something that was currently covered with a piece of silk. She couldn’t make out exactly what it could be, but it looked to have the top of a sphere. 'Curiouser and curiouser…’ Her frown briefly morphed into a quizzical look, then back to the frown. Satisfied that she had the lay of the land by the altar, she scanned over the rest of the clearing and could see a wide circle of guards around the edge of the clearing, all evenly spaced and with conspicuous bulges under their robes. At least they were in good positions to benefit from her planned surprises. Off to one side she could see a group of five cultists surrounding what looked, based on the fancier robes, like the MC for the evening. He seemed to be carrying something, but between the foliage in front of her and the group around him, she couldn’t make out what it was other than it looked heavy.

Kat lowered the scope from her right eye and risked a quick glance at her watch - if they went with tradition, then she had another 15 minutes before the show began. She closed her eyes briefly and offered a silent prayer to keep Mr you-know-who and family at bay, opened her eyes again then lifted the scope back up and settled in to see what was going to unfold.

15 minutes later… The witching hour.

'It’s usually nice to see traditions maintained, but just for once I’d like to see some originality.’ Kat thought to herself as the focus shifted to the MC, as he walked across the clearing towards the altar, still surrounded by his inner circle of five. As he reached the altar and the five separated to take up positions behind him, with the empty circle in front of the altar, she now saw all too clearly what he was carrying. 'Good evening Mr Fuckup, so nice you could make it.’ she thought to herself, trying to resist the urge to bolt from the tree and get as far away from this damned place as possible. It was an ancient tome, clearly bound in what was almost definitely human skin, and she’d seen enough of the title to realise that it could only mean the night was going to hell and very likely in the literal sense. It was widely rumoured to contain a large number of incantations for a variety of summonings, but some were for the type of creatures that viewed humans as playthings at best, and mere annoyances to be swatted aside at worst. How this group had managed to get their hands on it was anyone’s guess, but it was highly likely to be the result of one of the thefts of antiquities and occult-related items that had taken place over the last few months. Kat consciously tried to relax her muscles back from their current state of high tensile steel, but couldn’t stop herself repeating the same word over and over again in her mind 'fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck’. She forced herself to breathe almost normally, and was able to form a coherent thought - if she managed to get out of this alive (doubtful at the moment), she’d make her informant about tonight wish he’d never been born, and to pray for a quick death. Her focus returned to the altar, and she saw that the mystery object had now been revealed - a crystal ball on a mahogany stand. She blinked and adjusted the focus of the scope to get a closer look, ignoring the litany that had started. It was obviously old, and had a strange pearlescence about it that kept shifting like clouds in the sky… It looked familiar from somewhere. 'You’ve got to be kidding me!’ she thought, finally recognising it. She was sure it was Aleister Crowley’s, and that never boded well, especially not with the rest of the paraphernalia on show tonight. Mr you-know-who had brought the whole family for an outing tonight, and she’d seriously underestimated the resources of this group - hopefully not fatally.

The litany continued, with the MC referring to the book that had been on the altar to start with, then placing the skin-bound book on the altar and opening it with an audible crack that caused Kat’s shallow breath to catch in her throat. The silence that followed the crack was palpable, with seemingly the whole forest bowed into silent anticipation of what was to come. The MC glanced down the page he’d opened the book at and picked up the knife, which now seemed to be leaving afterimages behind itself as it moved through the air. A chill started to fall over the clearing, and Kat could see a few of the cultists placing their hands into their robes for warmth, along with a few small clouds of breath starting to form close to the altar. The knife was drawn through the air in several complex symbols, which remained briefly illuminated in the air when the knife was returned to the MC’s side, and after each one the temperature seemed to drop another couple of degrees. 'This isn’t funny now… I have a very, very bad feeling about this.’ Kat thought, her left hand reaching behind her to check that the butt of her CZ-75 was still in its holster.

Six symbols were drawn in the air in total, then when the sixth had been drawn and faded, all six re-appeared and glowed brightly for a second before fading out. This was like nothing that Kat had ever seen before, and it looked like it was new to a lot of the cultists as well given the conflicted looks of fear and anticipation on their faces. The knife was then swept in an 'X’ in the air, which flared brightly and left an afterimage on Kat’s retinas. He returned the knife to its cushion, at which point Kat could see that the crystal ball had cleared and was showing some form of image that she couldn’t quite make out, but there was fire in there somewhere, and something … writhing? Maybe it was best that she couldn’t make it out properly, but she did catch sight of something that made her tense - a couple of brief afterimages of the same symbols she’d seen scribed in the air with the knife here, followed by the 'X’ which seemed to remain in the scene in the ball… “Fuck” Kat whispered aloud, then quickly checked if she’d been heard - and it seemed she’d been lucky this time.

The crystal ball started to glow slightly, with the … images … still present within it. This looked to be the cue for the MC to start reading aloud from the ancient text in a language that had obviously not been designed for human vocal chords. Kat instinctively slid her CZ-75 from its holster and held it in her left hand, getting ready to make her move, the weight of it giving her a brief reassurance. The MC’s backing choir now started to join in, chanting in what sounded to be the same bizarre language, the harmony of voices making the hairs on the back of Kat’s neck rise. The glow of the crystal ball became brighter, and Kat could make out that the 'X’ in the image was growing in size. She flicked her gaze instinctively to the bare circle, and was sure she could see something like a heat-haze in there, completely at odds with the clouds of breath that were issuing from all of the cultists bar the MC and his groupies. The chanting seemed to build and build, growing in intensity and volume, and creating an almost primal sense of fear to build within Kat. She could see that a number of the cultists / guards were suffering from the same thing, some much worse than others. Kat started a mental countdown from 10, sensing that something was about to happen, and shifted her weight around readying herself to dive from the tree onto (hopefully) the guard about to pass beneath her. 9 … 8 … 7… The chanting continued to build and build, sounding more and more alien, and definitely emanating from more than just six people even though they were the only ones whose lips were moving. 6 … 5 … 4 … Kat slid her baton out from under her jacket into her right hand, keeping it collapsed for the moment. 3 … 2… 1 … Go! She dove feet first from the tree, flashing down about 20 feet and connecting perfectly with the guard, her right foot impacting heavily into his back, causing him to hit the ground in a heap with his spine snapping from the force, killing him instantly. As she slid over his collapsing body, she rolled forwards and sprang up into a kneeling position on her right knee, scanning the immediate area for any signs that she’d been heard, her right hand holding the still collapsed baton and supporting her left hand with her pistol at the ready. After a second she looked over towards the clearing and noticed that the chanting had stopped - it was now deathly silent throughout the wood, which was intensely worrying.

'So nice you could bring your family along this evening. Always a pleasure to see all the Fuckups in one place.’ Kat thought to herself, still fighting the urge to start running in the opposite direction to the one she knew she’d have to go in. After another quick scan of the immediate area, Kat shifted into a crouch and began to slowly make her way towards the still silent clearing just ahead of her. She kept expecting to be spotted or heard even though she was well camouflaged and was moving as silently as humanly possible. She also expected all hell to break loose any second, or some form of explosion, or … something! She knew the book by reputation only, and that was enough for her - there were many rumours about it, and not a one of them were good. It had dropped off the face of the Earth for a very long time, obviously into the hands of private collectors, or of a group that knew enough about it to not use it on a whim. If it had been researched, there would be some trail of insanity behind it, as no-one who delved too deeply into this area managed to retain their full mental faculties for long.

She made it to the edge of the clearing, secreting herself behind a bush with a clear view of the front of the altar and a clear shot at the MC. Kat fought to keep her breathing under control and hoped that her usual detached serenity would descend at the point she intervened. The eerie silence had lasted now for a full 5 minutes, with no sign of movement from the MC and his backing choir, and was causing Kat more and more unease particularly with the shifting scenes in the crystal ball. The glowing 'X’ was still there and looked to have grown larger again.

“Well?” One of the guards close to Kat broke the silence. “Is that it?” No sooner had he made his comment than the obsidian knife was embedded in his forehead and Kat felt a faint splash of cast-off blood from the impact. No-one appeared to have moved to throw the knife, and the impatient guard was twitching but still somehow managing to remain upright. Off to her left, Kat heard the sound of a woman retching into the undergrowth and noticed that the guard seemed to be somehow … shrinking? He was growing steadily thinner and thinner, and whether it was her mind playing tricks on her or not she wasn’t certain, but she could have sworn she could hear a faint sucking noise. He … withered to the point where he couldn’t have been more than skin stretched tight over his skeleton, then collapsed into a heap with the knife somehow releasing itself before he hit the ground face-first.

Kat felt an itching at the back of her brain, a feeling she was all-too aware usually meant that things were about to reach the point of no return (as if they hadn’t already!) and she needed to act quickly. The MC drew himself up to his full height and threw his head back … to have it thrown further backwards by the impact of two rounds from Kat’s CZ-75, blood spattering some of his backing choir and also being cast forwards over the altar to … hang in the air? “Oh fuck!” Kat growled, knowing that this time she may have been too late. Things seemed to drop into slow motion for Kat, as she caught out of the corner of her eye the glowing “X” encompassing the entire crystal ball. The cultists didn’t quite know how to react, some wondering if this was also part of the ritual, others who might have been more trained starting to scan the area to see where the shots came from, but the backing singers seemed completely unphased by the whole thing, as if … “And I fell for it, you bastards!” Kat shouted, breaking from her cover and triggering her ‘surprises’ at the same time.

Night started to turn to day with a sound akin to a rolling thunderclap shortly behind, still in slow-motion, with a ring of rigged flash-bangs exploding in sequence around the clearing. Kat was launching into a sprint towards the backing singers, squeezing her finger on the trigger as she saw the air starting to shimmer in front of her, then taking on an almost liquid quality. Another step further on, her finger closed the trigger and set off the first shot, which lazily flew towards the mirage? Heat haze? Disturbance in the air that lay between Kat and the backing singers. Next step, and another bullet left the barrel almost dead behind the first, which was now almost at the … disturbance that was getting even more liquid-like. Third step, and Kat could see one or two of the guards around the edge starting to recover their composure and reaching for weapons. The backing singers were still very much where they’d been all along, but she could swear that she could see one of them grinning at her. The first bullet was now at the disturbance and … disappeared? ‘Crap’ Kat’s next footfall started to steer her away from the disturbance that had now somehow swallowed both of her rounds, and was now getting more and more liquid-like. Fifth step … as Kat’s foot hit the ground, there was a sound that Kat felt all the way to the depths of her soul and that chilled her more than anything ever had before. It sounded … felt like someone had just torn reality itself apart at the seams. She could see some of the cultists turning to flee into the forest, one or two bending double to retch, others just stock still and ashen-faced. This definitely wasn’t something that they’d been prepared for – except maybe the backing singers. Kat saw the disturbance in the air stretch, as if someone (something?) was pushing at it from inside, then break and an arm of sorts appeared in the air. It looked as if it was made of liquid, with the same shimmering quality that the air had before, although this also looked like it was flowing from the break in the air (reality?) “Motherfucker” Kat swore, willing her feet away from whatever it was that was coming through, as there was no way that it could be anything that was good. It certainly wasn’t going to start singing campfire songs – more likely to roast everyone here alive over one. The rest of the body started to emerge from the … rift? It looked vaguely humanoid, although there were definite signs that it wasn’t going to be human – back-to front knees, clawed hands, and … tattered wings on its back? As her next foot hit the ground, Kat knew that her best escape route was behind the altar, so she’d have to go past this … damned thing. She brought her pistol to bear on it and squoze the trigger until the slide locked back. Every shot was true – head, heart, chest – and although it seemed to feel the impacts, nothing phased it. Kat was now alongside it and picking up speed, when she felt a burning impact on her right shoulder. Its right hand was on her shoulder, gripped her and pulled. She growled as she felt her arm slip out of its socket, and searing pain follow with something digging into her shoulder, but her momentum was just about enough to pull her free of its grasp, albeit spinning her directly towards the altar.

<End>

As always, thoughts and comments are welcomed, just keep them constructive if they’re negative.

[writingwordsanddrawingpictures]

Worldbuilding - coming soon...

I (re-)found a notebook yesterday that I'd used in the past (on my commute to / from work) to make some notes for my WIPs and other potential ideas, and I found a set of notes I'd put together about the 'structure' (if you can call it that) of the supernatural / deity world that "More Questions Than Answers" is set in.

I'm part-way through typing them up and I'll post them (minus spoilers) as soon as I've got them into a relatively coherent state.

The one thing I hadn't decided on previously was whether or not the MQTA series and the Plan B series were going to share the same universe or not. I can see pros and cons to both, so we'll see how that decision pans out.

Tagging: @therska , @bookishdiplodocus , @elaynab-writing , @kiramartinauthor , @themerrywriter , @siarven , @adie-dee , @sad-witchy-writeblr , @goddessofnothingatall , @cawolters , @esoteric-eclectic-eccentric , @stephrawlingwrites , @fukusigma , @alixismad , @lillayalightfoot , @theimportanceofbeingbookish , @seadrianwrites

As always, if you want adding to / removing from my tag list (which is still itself a WIP!), just let me know.

[writingwordsanddrawingpictures]

Hello, hope you're having a nice day! Could you tell something special about your WIP? :)

I'm having a reasonable day, thank you Anon.

Something special from my WIP? I'll go a little off-piste here and take my (currently untitled) horror story for this one. I started it as an experiment a couple of years ago to try to get back into writing again, and wrote most of it either on the train or during my lunch hour at work. It's rough as hell as I managed to avoid editing as I went, but I'm kind of proud about how it's turned out so far.

It was based on a 2 sentence horror story I saw on Reddit / Imgur around Halloween that sparked an idea with me.

Oh, it's also set in the same universe as another WIP - More Questions Than Answers, so there may be an element of crossover in there...

Yeah, that's a bit more than one special thing... Well, sometimes when I get started this is what you get!