Work still has a pretty firm hold over both my brain and my time, but it turned out to be quite a relief to finish chapter 5 of The Reconstruction of Kirill. I was starting to think it'd never happen... Of course, now I'm on chapter 6 and there are all the others stretching out into my future so it was quite a short-lived relief.
Thank gods I actually planned this story out properly. If I'd got a half-plan or decided to wing it I'd be struggling in the motivation department right now--although in my case, planning carries with it its own set of problems, like actually feeling like writing it when it already exists as outlined chapters. There are so few surprises waiting in store when it's planned out, though it has actually managed two so far so there's still hope! And chapter 6 brings with it the promise of smut so there's that to look forward to, though that brings its own issues: mostly that if there's anything The Destruction of Kirill and last year's NaNo taught me, it's that I can get very wordy when it comes to sex. (Not a problem I had with the year before's NaNo; that was frequency instead. I could barely prise them apart.)
And just to add insult to injury, I've picked up a ridiculous cough from somewhere. Joy. I prescribe myself lots of Johnny Flynn music, which is both the aural equivalent of wrapping myself in a warm blanket and is horribly inspiring while I'm at it. One of his songs inspired The Reconstruction of Kirill in its entirety, another has given me a plot bunny for a short story that I'm desperately trying to ignore, and I'm pretty sure the others are just laying in wait for me at this point.
Music is a dangerous, dangerous thing when it comes to inspiration...
My WiPpet maths is still not up to muster (as any and all of my maths teachers will attest) so it's still all kinds of simple. It's the 21st January 2015 - 21/1/2015 - so it's 8 lines from page 3 of the first chapter of The Reconstruction of Kirill (yes, you get pseudo-steampunk again today). Because--wait for it--2+1=3, 1=1, 2+0+1+5=8.
It makes sense in some world. Honest.
When we left our heroes, Niko was teaching Kirill to swordfight and now the inevitable has happened: Kirill picked up a nick. And Niko has his own ways of curing minor wounds... (And again, first draft so... yeah, messy.)
Niko is very, very easily distracted, it would appear...“Nonsense.” Niko’s head dipped, and the press of his lips to the scratch sent another spark of electricity the length of Kirill’s spine. “Does that feel better?”Kirill nodded, light headed, and Niko grinned wickedly up at him before kissing his chest again, this time much nearer the nipple than the wound. He should object, this wasn’t going to teach him any faster, but how could he when it felt so good? Then Niko’s tongue grazed over the tender pink nub and any thought of protestation dried up.It didn’t take long for both their shirts to hit the floor and for Niko’s hungry mouth to cover his own, hands resting on his narrow hips and sliding now and again beneath the waistband. A shiver ran across his shoulders that had nothing to do with the warm air; a year ago he’d never thought this could feel so nice and yet here he was, sensitive beyond belief beneath Niko’s touch.