Wednesday, November 7, 2012

One Tender Tidbit

So, my reader minions, last post I asked you if you wanted a taste of the new chunk of Soulless I've been writing. The majority of my fans that follow this blog, by which I mean you Vlaedr, seemed very excited at this prospect. So, here is a tasty, medium-rare slab of character development for Rook. 
This section probably won't make it into the final book, but I never know. This was mainly to get to know Rook better. The thing about starting a new novel is that you don't really know the characters very well yet. You have to adventure with them, laugh with them, live with them, cry with them before you can really begin to understand your creations.

Sitting in a Jail Cell with Rook Llewellyn
We sat in the stinking cell, on the cold, hard cobbled floor. The silence was very noticeable. I kept staring at him. I couldn’t help it.
“So… What are you in for?”
The man, If you could call him that grunted.
 “Bar fight.”
A short bark of laughter escapes me. He glares at me with those yellow eyes. I look away quickly. After a while, he reaches into his boot and pulls out a small flask. He takes a short swig and hides the bottle again.
“What’s in there?” I ask.
“You don’t want to know,” he says. The silence lengthens again.
“So, did you give it to him good?”
The man grunts in confusion.
“The bar fight. Did you win?”
He shrugs.
“Don’t really remember. All of the fights seem the same to me.”
The man’s speech was slurred. I suspected it was from the booze. He stank of it, but it could have also been the wolfish tongue and sharp teeth that mangled the words every time he opened his mouth.
“All of them? Do you get into a lot of fights?”
“’s not my idea. People don’t really like my kind, see?”
“Your kind?”
“Soul-wraiths, you imbecile! Are you blind and dull?”
The roar frightened me. I felt myself shrink back against the wall of the chamber. The man seemed grimly amused. He began muttering to himself. I could tell that he was normally a man of very few words, but the drink had loosened his wolfish tongue.
“She best be okay. She can look after herself for a night, can’t she?”
“What’s that?”
“None of your business,” he snarled. There was a long period of silence, broken only for the scratching of a rat in the wall.
“’er name’s Evie,” he said, almost to himself.
“Evie? Is she your wife?”
“Wife?” The word was a bark like laugh. “Wife? Why would a sweet young thing want someone like me? No… No… Of course not…”
The man swayed a little. His yellow eyes were unfocused. Or maybe focused on something far away.
“It’s my fault…” he said.
“What is?”
“My fault! All my fault… I broke her. Beautiful, pure creature until I touched her. It’s all my fault. She didn’t know, you know? She didn’t know for a week. Seven whole days until she realized she was cursed. Seven whole days I stayed silent, not wanting to add to her grief. She was so angry. It… My heart.”
He was actually crying now.
“I swore. I swore I’d never do it again. I swore I’d never inflict this curse upon anyone else. No one should have to go through what I did. Especially her.”
The sobbing became louder. It grew into great howls of grief. He leapt to his feet. He clenched his fists and threw his head back, roaring in anger and sadness. The wall was the first to receive punishment. He punched it till his knuckles bled again. Then he grabbed the bench that was nailed to the floor and ripped it up. The planks cracked as he smashed that too against the bruised wall. Then he turned to me. I scrabbled backwards in terror as he advanced on me. He grabbed me by the collar and hauled me upright. His fist was drawn back and his ugly teeth were bared in an animalistic grimace. He threw the punch, but stopped at the last second. There were tears in his eyes again.
“Mustn’t,” he muttered. “For her.”
He dropped me in a pile on the ground and collapsed onto the grimy cobbles himself. He seemed dazed and simply miserable. “Mustn’t hurt anymore. For her.”
I smoothed down my clothes, which did nothing for my jangling nerves. The man’s yellow eyes slid slowly shut and a drunken snore rose softly from his chest.

Listening to: Firework - Katy Perry

Wearing: PJs

Eating: Gummi worms and Coke

Feeling: Uninspired

1 comment:

  1. Hmmm... Medium-rare... YUM.

    I got mentioned!!!!!!! YAY!!!!!

    Damn straight I wanted a tidbit! And it was damn good! I really like the emotion of the scene. It shows a very deep side to Rook. And I dig (not Minecraft :P ) how you used another person's point of view.

    Great job!

    (I will now officially advertise your blog. I know quite a few people who would seriously like this...)


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