Characters on Couches 2.1

Alright. So I've put it off for... well, all day.

So, Hi.

This Characters on Couches session is going to progress a little differently then last time. One, I will be using characters from a different story. My NaNoWriMo novel. I *had* planned to use three gals from my WIP Mortality, but, well I need to figure out my NaNoWriMo novel titled, as you know, Tainted.

Anyway, it's going to be written in roaming first person. I don't know if that's a thing, but that's what I call it. What I mean is that I will use multiple first person perspectives. I know, for a fact, it will be awkward as I am *highly* unskilled and unpracticed at first person.

*Anyway* I'm going to start with the fictional "I" as author, and then will switch to I, as the character. Don't judge. I'm bad at first person.

Characters on Couches 2

Sarah-Juliet and Jonathon

Here we go again.

This time, I have foregone the desk and sit instead on level with the others, facing two empty chairs. The two chairs are intentionally uncomfortable, but I am quite happy in mine. Again I have a clipboard and pen, but this time I am determined to actually take notes. 

This time, I can't use Hilia (well, technically I could, but she's from a different genre and time entirely, and she'd have so much to learn in an instant, that she wouldn't be a reliable lie detector), so I have to either trust they're telling me the truth, or figure out what they mean when they aren't. 

Hmm. 

There's a knock at the door and I jump, spitting out a piece of my pen. (That's why I buy cheap pens. I chew them up.) How long had I been staring off into space? 

"Come in, please."

Ah, so it's Jonathon first. He's... wow, he's tall. Taller than I'd thought. He's got to be well over six feet tall. I let out a quiet whistle and he grins. His height would make him intimidating, if it weren't for everything else about him. He's thin to the point of gangly, his hair is the brightest red I've seen in my life and his pale skin is *covered* in freckles. Over all, he's quite a goofy-looking guy, but at that grin... damn. He lights up a room without trying. 

"So who're we waitin' on?" He sits, lounging in the chair, somehow making the stiff wooden thing look comfortable. 

Apparently all of his height is in his legs, because I can now look him in the eye.

"You know full well, who." 

His grin widens and he laughs. Shit but this guy is charismatic. I can almost feel myself start to smile in response, but I have to maintain a serious facade. I cover my mouth with a hand and "scratch my nose" until I can be serious again. 

***

What the hell is this shit about? That woman better not have invited him. If he's here, I swear to god, I'm going to kill him. How long is this hallway? Everything around me is empty and my steps resound back at me. I'm angry. I can't get angry. I can't afford to Shift. 

Stopping, I take a deep breath, hold it for three seconds, let it out. Again. When I can feel I'm calm again, I push my way through the door that has suddenly become close. It's quite a plain door, really. Nothing special about it. I thought our author would be more ostentatious.

A woman is sitting in a... I stop just inside the door. I swear it's a... 

"Is that a throne?" 

So much for not being ostentatious. 

I swear, it really is a throne. It's twice as high as the other two chairs, and it's... it's black. But the decorations on it. I shake my head. Jesus H. Christ. They're bones. 

"Don't worry, they're not real. Please, take a seat." She waves a hand and gestures to the two seats in front of her. 

My fuse is growing short again. I'm not an idiot. I know the bones aren't real. Even an idiot could tell that. I can tell I'm getting angry because I can hear my footsteps again. I'm stomping. I sit in the chair. God damn, this thing is hard as a rock, I swear. No matter how I shift, I can't get comfortable. It's pure wood, there's no cushion whatsoever. 

"Why ya fidgeting, Jay-Jay, nervous?"

My back goes rigid. I hadn't been paying attention to the second chair. Turning I'm met with a glowing smile. Idiot. Why is he always happy? This is not a happy time. I'm irritated. 

"Calm down, Sarah-Juliet." 

"Don't call me that!" My head whips back around and I give the author the most biting stare I can manage. 

"Fine, fine. Jewel, then. Can we get started?"

"Sure!" God, Jonathon's enthusiasm is so annoying. 

At least it's not him, though. I brace myself for her first question. 

"Why do you call her Jay-Jay?" 

Relief. She turned to him first. Thank god. 

"Cuz she hates her name." He says it matter of factly. 

I shake my head again. He really is an idiot. 

"Why don't you call her Jewel, then?" Her pen is poised over her notebook. 

"I don't like it." I swear he's like a child. 

"...Alright then." There's a slight pause before she answers. She's dumbstruck too. 

"How'd you guys meet?" 

"Fuck you." I talk over Jon. "I know you know exactly how we met. You wrote, well, will write it. God damn, how is it I have knowledge of past events that haven't happened yet? You haven't written a damn word."

She shrugs. My blood begins to boil. This woman... she's just doing it to piss me off. I can feel the blood in my veins. It's getting hot. My ears are ringing. My jaw hurts. Everything hurts. No. Not now. I can't Shift now. But I'm so angry. I'm angry all the time, and it's boiling over no. 

"Jay. Look at me."

 Something cold touches my face. I can't focus. Is that... fire? No. It's not fire. It's Jonathon. Shit, Jonathon. I can't Shift. He can't see that. I can't. I'm stressing. I can't stop it. I'm shifting. My bones start to grind and stretch. It hurts. 

"Hey... Jewel. Come on. Deep breaths."

Jewel. He called me Jewel. He's never called me that before. My skin begins to cool, and my bones settle. My ears stop ringing and I can finally focus. 

We're on the floor. Jonathon's arms are... he's holding me. For the first time, I realize just how much bigger he is than I am. I'm not short, but he's... huge. But he's so thin, I don't think about it most the time. His skin is cool, too. Not burning all the time like mine. No. This isn't right. I can't do this. 

"You're so... annoying." 

He smirks at me and stands, reaching down to help me up. Ignoring his hand I sit in that god-forsaken chair again. 

The author looks completely and totally composed. God she's so irritating. But I'm cool now. Relatively. 

"Ask your question." 

"Why do you hate yourself?" Her pen is poised. 

"Go to hell. You know I hate being a werewolf. I didn't ask for this. Yet I'm a pariah." 

She nods. "Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but you hated yourself before this." 

I can feel Jonathon's gaze on the side of my head. He's curious too. Damn them. Damn everyone. 

"You want to know why? Fine. My father, on the day of my birth, killed my mother. And then he took his own life."

"And-?"

"Would you just shut up for a minute?" My breathing is heavy, but I'm not on the Edge yet. "He left no note, so everyone says that we can't know why he did that. But I do know." 

I can't sit any longer. Pacing, I can focus on the floor and my feet and not have to look at either of them. "He wanted a son. My mother didn't give him one. So he killed her. I don't know if it was sorrow or guilt that cause it, but... either was the reason for his suicide. Can I go now?"

I walk out. I don't care what her answer is.

Alright. So that's it for that. And... well, these characters are not what I expected them to be. It's nice to get to know them before November, though. 

However, I decided this is only part one of this Characters on Couches. I don't know when I will continue it, either tomorrow, or next Wednesday. 

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!

Questions

Are you doing NaNoWriMo?

Will you be my Buddy?

Are You a Pantser or a Planner?

The upside and downside of both.

So this was supposed to be yesterday's post, but there was no post yesterday because I am a horrible person and @nobody_knows on Twitter got me reading a manga (again), and you should totally follow her because she is awesome and a writer and a NaNoWriMo'er and because I said so and you trust me right? Anyway, I would normally link you the manga (it's called Skip Beat if you're a glutton for punishment) but I won't because then you will be sucked into the same black hole I am in.

Anyway! To the post.
This one is unplanned as I am a horrible horrible planner and a pantser in all things.  

Planning

First, I think, we have to define what, exactly, a Planner is. So what is a planner?

Simply, it is someone who plans. A Planner may draw up all kinds of outlines and even model their characters off of pictures found on the internet or in magazines. Planner's will have their novel planned out to almost the minutest detail. 

The Pro's

The pro's of being a planner are, I think, quite obvious.

With a plan, one has less of a chance of hitting writer's block. (When you know where you're going, you can't come to a spot and go "what next?")

Well... that's really the only one I can think of at the moment, but it's a big one.

The Con's

Perfectionism. This may not sound like such a bad thing, but if you are a perfectionist, you will second guess yourself every step of the way. 

The lack of surprise. When you know everything from A to Z, there is no chance for your characters to surprise you, as you are far more liable to Railroad them. 

Writer's Block. It's the opposite of the Pro, but this is the reason I don't plan. If I plan, and I know what's going to happen next, it is impossible, sometimes, for me to continue because I feel I won't do it justice. 

Hum... Well, I never said I was an expert on Planning. 

Pantsing

Pantsing is a term used for writers like myself who "write by the seat of their pants." Often we go at the task with little idea of the outcome. I, myself, usually start with a beginning and an ending in mind, and some vague ideas of the middle. 

Pro's

Anything can happen. With limits. I love world building. (In that way I am a planner.) Normally I have clearly drawn lines of what can and cannot happen. However, within those limitations, anything can, and probably will, happen. 

The story, and characters, take on a life of their own. No, really. I've experienced this before. Without a plan, it is up to the characters to truly decide what they are going to do. As a writer, I often am bemused, befuzzled, or straight up confused at why my characters do certain things. But you know what? Their motivations always come clear in the end. 

Little Railroading. If you don't know how you're going to get to the end, how can you tell your characters what to do? It's that simple. 

Con's

Anything can happen. Yes, this goes in both categories. When anything can happen, some people can freeze, and so nothing happens. 

Writer's Block. Oh lordy, writer's block. My pantsing is probably the reason for 95% of my Writer's Block in the past, and that much in the future, too. Without a plan, it's quite easy to come to a spot and go... "What now?" 

Editing. I haven't gotten to this stage yet, but because I have had not plan, and my angle has change multiple times throughout writing, I know Mortality will need a MAJOR overhaul before I even THINK of getting beta-readers. 

The In-Between

Now, normally, no writer is entirely one or the other. 

Myself? I am most definitely solidly in the Panster group. However, I do LOVE world-building. And that falls entirely into the Planner category. Also, When I reach a point where I say "What now?" I will ask myself, what has to happen before the end. And a mental map is created. Sometimes I even right it down on paper. 

So. Happy Trails! Tomorrow will probably be another Character's on Couches session, because even though the blog spot was that one time... well, I've got more issues that need worked out! Thanks Murphy!

Cheyenne

Food for Thought

Are you a planner or a pantser? 

What works best for you?

NaNoWriMo

It's about that time of year again.

The NaNoWriMo website rebooted not too long ago, the forums are already up and jumping and I've already got a cover!

For those of you poor few who don't know what NaNoWriMo is, well, follow the link.

The awesome cover to the left is brought to you by Measa. I don't think she has a blog, otherwise I'd link you there.

Let's see, what can I say about NaNoWriMo?

Well, for those of you who don't know, it was started by  

Scratch that, you can read all that info on the website. Here, I think (since I have never crossed the 50K mark during NaNoWriMo) I will give you tips on what NOT to do during it.

Do's and Don'ts Of NaNoWriMo

Or any other WriMo, for that matter. 

Really, I only consider myself an expert on the don'ts. You know, cuz I've never crossed the finish line. ANYWAY! Disregarding that fact, I do have some tips that might help. 

Do

• Add buddies. But don't just add buddies. TALK TO THEM. Send them some NaNoMail, ask them how they're progressing. Offer to bounce some ideas around. I know a lot of people need that. Like me. 
• Check out the forums. Seriously. I didn't last year and they would have been SO HELPFUL. They can be kind of confusing because of how fast they explode in size. But if you need help, don't hesitate to post. If you're not sure where, ask an admin. Or post where you think appropriate and if it's not, an admin will move it for you. 
• Check out the Adoptables. Even if you think you have everything figured out. Check the Adoption Society threads. Much will be useless to you I am sure, but you can find a name, place, dialogue, description, any number of things that may spark ideas. Even if you don't use them in NaNoWriMo. 

Don't

• Try to go at it alone. If you have no one holding you accountable for your word count, you're more likely to stop midway because something comes up, or put off writing for days on end and get so far behind you're unlikely to catch up. 
• Smother flights of fancy. Really, right now is the PERFECT time to indulge. Want to follow the stream-of-conscious of a gnat? Go for it. A side character wants to steal the spotlight? Power to 'em. Don't railroad your characters. 
• Expect it to be perfect. Just don't. You're writing an entire 50,000 words in a month. A lot of it is probably going to be crap. 
• Reread. This is my biggest killer. If you go back and reread what you wrote the day before, you'll REALIZE it's crap and be disheartened. 

Other Tips

Uhm... I swore I had some. Oh yeah!

Stay comfortable. If you're cold, or sore, you're not going to be in a very writerly mood. Have a comfortable place (but not TOO comfortable or you'll fall asleep!), where you can plug in your laptop (or sit at your desk), put on headphones (even if you don't turn them on), and just write. 

Writing Totem. It's good to have one. I think the first time I came across the term was in Chris Baty's No Plot? No Problem! (He's the guy who created NaNoWriMo and that book is a How-To guide for making it through the month.) It's basically an outward sign that you're in "Writer Mode." I don't have one, unless you count my glare. 

ELIMINATE DISTRACTIONS. Sorry to yell at you, but it's that important. If you're distracted, you won't write. Believe me, you may start off strong but midway into the month you'll have the "what am I doing?" thoughts. Those will lead you to procrastinate. Don't do it. Unplug the TV, turn off the internet, and throw away the phone. (Just kidding, but seriously put it somewhere you can't hear or get to it.)

Anyway! That's all I have. 

Follow me as I tweet about NaNoWriMo @ThatNerdyWriter

Or Add me as a Buddy on the NaNoWriMo website C.R. Trumbo

Good Luck Next Month! I'll be battling right along side you!

Cheyenne

Food for Thought

Do you have any other NaNoWriMo Tips? Leave them in the comments!

Slow Down

Hello.

I'm mostly feeling better now, but not trusting myself to eat anything but crackers or drink anything but Ginger ale or Sprite.

Anyway, this blog post is brought to you by Wasteland Nomad, an interesting person, who, with one tweet, inspired me.

The tweet was as follows,

"Sometimes physically writing a story can slow you down and let you see things clearer. At least to my crazy brain anyway."

Which made me think.

Can You Write Too Quickly?

Unless it is during NaNoWriMo, or another WriMo, the answer is, surprisingly, yes.

NaNoWriMo is all about writing quantity over quality, and that's great when the goal is to just get something written, but outside of NaNoWriMo?

If you're working to a deadline, you want to write quickly, but not so quickly that you lose sight of where you wanted to go. Working with a go, go, go attitude is great and all, but too much of that, and you become derailed. Become derailed and we can become unmotivated. You may look back at what you've written and go, it's crap. Well, yeah. That's because you weren't paying attention to what you were writing.

How can we keep from writing too quickly?

Sometimes, we just need to take a step back.

If you feel you are becoming lost in your story/novel/post/fanfic or you've written yourself into a hole, take a step back. Look at it as if for the first time, take note of what you want to happen later, or how you want the scene/novel/fanfic to end, and try to figure out what happens in the meantime.

Even as a pantser, I find taking a look at it this way helps. With my current WIP, Mortality, I wrote out the main plot points from where I am to the end, and have started figuring out what happens between now and each point.

It's making the writing itself flow much smoother. I don't plan to the last detail, I leave my characters a lot of leeway, and you should to.

Can You Write Too Slowly?

Most definitely yes. This is the other side of the same coin. 

It's great to know the specifics of what's happening and going on in your novel/scene/fanfic, but while you're writing don't worry about that. If you do worry too much about who's doing what, what's taking place elsewhere or how this effects the future or how the past affected this scene now, you're going to be so wrapped up in the past/future of your novel that writing RIGHT NOW, is going to be downright impossible. 

How do we keep from getting bogged down?

Well, there are many ways you could do this. 

For one, stop worrying. If it's a first draft, which is really all this post pertains to, there is so much editing going to be done that really, worrying now is a time waster, and nothing more. 

If you can't help but go back and reread what you've written (a BIG no-no, especially during WriMo's) the moment you open the file, turn the font color for everything previous, white. Or whatever background color you choose. 

Use WriteOrDie. (Really, it's a life saver). Especially on Kamikaze mode. 

Well, that's all I have for today darlings. 

Stay inspired,

Cheyenne

Food for thought

Do you write too quickly? How do you slow down?

Do you write too slowly? How do you speed up?

Research, Music and Distractions

Hey.

So, I'm sick. If you follow me on Twitter, you already know that.

I did not have this post pre-planned. And I'm not sure what to say, but I made a plan to post once a day, so that's what I'm going to do.

So, onto my other writerly things I promised.

Research

Do I research before a novel? Not really. 

Can you? Definitely. 

Can you do too much? Yes. 

What are some ways you can research? I am no expert on research, as I've said, I don't really do research. For my current novel, the only research I did was to read a few books on vampires. And I didn't read one from beginning to end. 

What is too much research? When you start looking up specific height and weight for something. Seriously, if you want to know something and you can't find it right off the bat, pull something out of the air and look it up during editing. Really, you don't want to do too much research before you start your rough draft. 

The only research I've done for my NaNoWriMo novel has been to read a book on werewolves and pick and choose how I want my "werewolves" to act. 

It's easy to over do it. If you can't find something with five clicks on google... Save it for editing. 

Music

Or other ambient sound. 

Some people say they have to have silence. Some have to have a certain kind of music playing. In any other situation, they say they can't write. 

I call bullshit. 

Even though I have my preferred music (J-Pop), I can write in silence, or my boyfriend can be playing a movie in the background (though the movie quite often distracts me). 

The thing is, it's okay to have a preferred method, or situation in which to write, but don't refuse to write unless those conditions are met. Don't place restrictions like that on yourself. 

Distractions

Music, for some people, can be under this category. 

If you want to get any good amount of writing done, you want to separate yourself from any and all distractions you can. Kids, cats, significant others, television, phonecalls, texts, internet, etc.

If you're constantly being distracted, what writing you get done will probably be negligible. 

Being distracted by your children? Well, I don't have children, but you may want to wait until they are in school/daycare/asleep to get your writing done. Maybe let them watch more brain-melty tv? 

My cats are a constant companion as I write. They, being kittens, are attention hogs. Now, I don't mind them laying next to me, but when they're all up in my keyboard, I have to move them off. If I have to keep doing this, I will move them to another room. They normally get the hint. 

My boyfriend is harder to take care off. Normally he's at work or asleep during my writing times, but on his days off, he wants attention as badly as the cats. During NaNoWriMo this may be a problem and I will have to hit him over the head with his iPad to get writing done. I'll keep you posted. 

Turn off your phone. It's that simple. If you answer a phone call even once, people will expect you to keep doing it. If you can, unplug/turn off the internet connection. I can't do this, as the music I listen to is from an online source, but if Twitter distracts me I will hit that nice little "x" in the corner. 

That's all folks

Sorry, that's all I can come up with for now. 

The illness, boyfriend, and cat 2 are making it hard to concentrate. 

I'll see you guys tomorrow!

Cheyenne

Why You Shouldn't Care

Hello all!

I'm going to start this post with a few stories, but bear with me. I have a point. I promise.

Now, if you've read my first post, *ahem* Briony, you will know roughly my age. So keep in mind I've been in the work force for three- almost four- years. Mostly fast food. My first story is when I was 15/16 years old, at my very first job.

• It was a small, family owned business, so I worked with pretty much the same people almost everyday. There was one girl I recall who *really* didn't like me (some of you may already see where I am going with this post, but let me finish). I had no problem with her, so I went about work as usual. Almost a year later I finally asked why she didn't like me. She gave me a legitimate reason. I worked to fix it. We never had a problem again. 
• My second job I had few issues aside from my last day (which is another story ENTIRELY). My third job was at a McDonald's. I think I worked there all of three-four months? In that time, most the people I worked with loved, or at least tolerated me. However, one girl disliked me extremely and it was causing problems. She'd outright ignore me, but that wasn't the issue, it was a problem when she'd ask me to do HER job, while I was helping or doing something for a customer, but I digress into run-on sentences. I asked her one day, and this is pretty much the conversation verbatim. "Do you not like me, or something?" "No, I don't." "Okay... Why?" "I dunno. It's just the way you are." I walked away and don't think I ever spoke to her again, but then again I quit like a month after that. 
• My fourth/fifth job (I went back to my first job for a couple months after my third, but then we moved.) I worked at a taco place down in Texas. Still in school, I worked night shift. There were a couple girls I had issues with, but one stands out. She didn't like me. It was obvious. I didn't say anything until she snapped at me one night. We were both on drive-thru and she took off her headset to take care of something in lobby. Shouldn't be a problem, right? She was still working, after all. My issue is, it wasn't her job to take care of lobby, her job was to do drive-thru with me. I asked her to put the headset back on. She comes back with something snarky about there being no customers. It irritated me. But I let a manager take care of it. Texting her later I asked why *she* didn't like me. She said I was bossy. Really? I'm bossy for asking you to do your JOB? (I actually told her this. She didn't like it.)
• Now we come to the incident that spurred this entire post (because I'm bad and forgot to write up my post before work, I hand wrote part during lunch and am now typing the rest.). I work at walmart. I don't care that you know that, it has nothing to do with this post. Nor am I criticizing it. But anyway. A guy I work with, doesn't like me. (Starting to see a pattern here, eh?) I don't know why. I don't care why, though I AM curious. I have no problem with him. He's a pretty cool guy, just has some issues of his own. I can understand that. Everyone has issues of some sort. Now, I'd only just figured out he didn't like me. Like... the night before last. 
• Last night at work, I was messing around with him and another employee. I don't think Terry will mind if I tell you his name, he's cool. So I was kinda messing around with Employee A and Terry. Stuck my foot out when they passed to "trip" them. (I don't think I ever actually touched either of their feet, was just messing around.) An hour or two later, one of the managers calls me in to talk. She does the whole schpiel about safety in the work place and how they know I was messy around but that it could cause an accident. Yadda, yadda. (She called me "bubbly", and while I'm not too sure about that, she said I light up a room. It made me feel good.) It's a mild pat on the wrist. I'm fairly certain at this point who complained. I'm sure you are, too. 
• Now. That normally wouldn't bother me that he went to the bosses. But some of the stuff he "jokingly" says to me, could warrant sexual harassment charges. But I'm not vindictive, and like I said, I think he's an alright guy. I would like to talk to him about this, but haven't had time/opportunity to get him alone. I may, I may not. 

Alright. Story time is over. 

How could this pertain to writing? You may ask. 

Well, I told you those stories to tell you this. And it's a harsh truth I think many burgeoning authors need to know right off the back; I just thank the life I've lived that I learned this lesson early (It's the way I am, after all). 

Not everyone is going to like you.

Some people could downright hate you/your book. However, there will be the people who absolutely adore your writing. Learn this. Know this. Write this down and stick it on your refrigerator. The sooner you learn it and take it to heart, the easier rejection will be.

That being said, I have never faced rejection of my writing before, but I have no doubt I will, and you will be among one of the first groups of people to know how I truly take it.

Happy writing, tomorrow's post will probably be something about NaNoWriMo, or the other writerly things one of my previous posts talked about, or something about cats, I haven't decided yet.

Cheyenne

Characters on Couches

Hello, again. 

Today, if you did not read yesterday, I am taking part in something called Characters on Couches. It is hosted by the lovely, and perhaps insane, Murphy. *snerk* "perhaps", I'm funny.

ANYWAY, if you follow that link it will take you to her blog which you should totally check out, you know, once you've finished reading here.

Enjoy.

Characters on Couches #1

Damon and Nicholai

Here we go. I've never done this before, so it will be an experience. But then again, neither have they. I have called in two of the men from Mortality, Damon and Nicholai, both vampires, and both fighting on the same side. Nicholai has an animosity towards Damon that is more than just jealousy, and we are gathering here today to find out just what that reason is.

Damon arrives first, punctual, as usual. He wears black pants, tight, but loose enough to allow movement. His blue shirt just barely shows through the gap in his long coat. I don't know why he bothers with the coat, we both know he can't feel the cold. His black hair hangs almost to his shoulders and no matter how pristine the rest of him is, it's in perpetually disarray. It doesn't help that he runs his hands through it constantly, as now.

“Come in, come in, please sit.”

His deep blue eyes turn to me, and even as his author a feel a tingle to my fingertips.

“So this is the real world, then?” He does finally sit, back straight, hands palm-upward in his lap. He wasn't allowed weapons, though he seems quite comfortable without them.

I laugh, sitting on the desk I fashioned for myself, instead of behind it. “It's my world, if that's what you mean.”

I decided I'd go with a sort of business-like attire. Keep things professional. But I detest skirts and so am wearing a nice, dark gray suit. My hair is pulled back into a neat pony tail, keeping it out of my face and keeping with the professional motif. The time ticks by as we wait for Nicholai. My foot taps of its own volition, and out of nowhere the song “Some Nights” by FUN begins playing.

Damon quirks an eyebrow slightly as he looks at me, and I can see why Devin would fall for him, even if she didn't have a choice. I can feel my cheeks redden as, even though this is my world, I put the music back in my head. Just as the silence is beginning to get awkward, at least for me, the door bursts open, slamming against the wall.

“What in the nine hells is going on? Where are we?” Nicholai.

Perhaps at one time he was considered handsome. His hair is short and blond, his eyes are a brilliant, bright green, and his muscles are large and well defined, while Damon is more lean. However, any good looks he may have had are destroyed by the sneer that is pasted on his face.

Damon sighs. “We are in the world of our authour, Nicholai, please try to keep up.”

He is nothing if not polite, though Nicholai sees the hidden insult. It's cleverly done, if I do say so, but I clear my throat. Arguments like this will get us nowhere.

“Now, do you both know why you are here?” I look to Damon and then to Nicholai, who stands far too close for my liking. “Please, sit, Nicholai, I can't stand people who tower over me.”

Nicholai does what I asked, sprawling in a seat he scrapes against the floor, pushing it farther away from Damon's. Damon watches with a bemused little smirk, I swear he knows how good looking he is, but the look disappears before Nicholai can catch sight of it. He looks directly at me, or through me (I'm not so sure), as he answers.

“You have not informed us of what it is you wish, though as it is only the two of us, I can guess.”

I nod, motioning for him to continue. 

“I wish it to be understood that I bear no animosity toward Nicholai, he has disliked me from the moment we recruited him.”

I swear, I love the sound of his voice.

“And how did you recruit him?”

“His was an abnormal case, you see, normally they come to us. But twenty-eight years ago-. Surely you know this.” His head tilts to the side curiously.

Nicholai continues, not waiting for my confirmation or denial of knowledge. “Twenty-eight years, seven months and three days ago, they saved me from a Hunter.”

“Alright. I'm confused. Why did their saving you make you hate him?”

“I could have handled myself quite well without them butting in,” he shoves his chair back and stands, facing Damon. “You have your precious Devin now, but what about me?”

He's yelling, but Damon just sits there looking up at him, letting it wash over him.

“You kill the Huntress “accidentally,”” he actually makes the air quotes and I fight the urge to giggle. I never giggle. “and then put in my mind this grand plan to become mortal. What kind of sick game is that?”

Damon still doesn't say anything, so I ask. “What was this Huntress to you?”

He rounds on me, and if looks could kill, well, his story would never be told. His voice grows quiet, but no less angry. “She was my Soul Mate.”

Damon lets out a small moue of surprise, as I let out a similar squeak. It's a quite unbecoming sound to make.

Nicholai turns away from me, not looking at Damon as he heads for the door. “I will never forgive him.”

As the door swings shut, Damon looks like if he could, he'd be sick. He can't go green around the gills, or turn pale, but I recognize that look on his face. It's the look of someone holding down bile, or holding back tears. But then again, he can't cry either. He slumps now, the only time even I have ever seen him lose his composure. He cradles his head in his hands and speaks to the floor.

“I had no idea.” At first, I don't think he's going to say anymore, but before I can go and comfort him, he continues.

“Normally we try to explain things, set them on the trail of others, some of Damian's crew perhaps. But she refused to listen. Even then we try to spare them, perhaps knock them out and leave them some place harmless.” He takes a deep breath. “I messed up. I let myself succumb to the Ahrin, and when I returned, well, that werewolf got off easy.”

He stands now, and gives me a sad smile. Like the metaphors I use far too often, it makes my heart ache.

“That is all you wished, correct?”

“Uhm, yes.” As he walks toward the door, I remember what I forgot. “Oh! If you could please tell the girls that I will be seeing them next week?”

His back goes rigid. He stops with his hand on the handle. He slowly turns toward me. “What girls?”

“You know. Helena, Hope, and Dev-.” Before I can finish her name, I can't breathe.

I'm off the desk and Damon has pinned me by my throat to the wall behind. His eyes are mostly black, though I can tell his fighting the Ahrin. “You are not putting her in a room with the two of them.”

I manage a smirk despite the fact I can't breathe. As I look at him, the arm pinning me to the wall begins to move of it's own- well, my own- volition. It's a battle of wills, and I, as his author, am going to win. His arm is at his side, and I can breathe again.

“You cannot tell me what to do, Damon Fa'erha.” His eyes narrow in surprise. “Yes, I know your true name Mr. Damncry. Now, you will either tell the girls or you won't. That's up to you. But I will be seeing them.”

I slip out from around him and pick up my clipboard and pencil.

“Have a good day.” He bows slightly before gliding through the door.

Once he's gone I throw myself into the unused plush chair behind my desk and finally let out the sigh/giggle suppressed the entire time.

“I take it you enjoyed that?”

The closet door opens and Hilia stepped out. Her almost lemon-yellow hair is loose but for two thin braids that circle the crown of her head. It looks quite lovely. Her sharp green eyes seem to look through me as she looks at me, however, and goose bumps raise on my arms.

“I did. So what do you think?”

Hilia shakes her head, taking a seat in the chair Damon had used. She taps her chin with her thin, perfectly-manicured fingers. “I know Damon's mind better than he does, and he did not lie. Nicholai, however...”

She trails off.

“Was he lying?”

“Oh no, no, you misunderstand me. I am quite certain he was telling the truth. I do not believe he wishes to become mortal again, however. I believe he sees his existence as penitence for letting the girl he spoke of die.” Hilia's eyes are distant as she glances at the other chair.

“Really?”

Hilia shakes her head slightly. “I cannot be sure without actually seeing into his mind. But I am quite sure.”

“Damn... Never would have guessed. He always did seem like he enjoyed being a vampire.”

“Oh no, he does not enjoy it. I do not believe any hates it so much as he. He feels he deserves it. He deserves it because for all his strength, he could not save the one he loved.” Hilia stands now and tips her head to me. She leaves without another word.

Setting my clipboard and pencil on the desk, I realize I forgot to take notes. Damn.