#cold circuit

Cold Circuit + Gii

2:00AM Tapes

I was tagged by @keeping-writing-frosty to share seven lines from my WIPs, so I'll split it down the middle (as middle as possible, I guess?) and share three lines from Cold Circuit and four lines from my untitled Carcosan story:

Untitled Carcosan Story:

You turn your attention to the Kaza once more, watching as she angles her ancient bow in a northern direction, and her fingers tremble, her gaze focused on an obscured target beyond your line of sight. You see her lips move, once, twice, thrice. The Kaza shifts her stance, pointing the Cazador’s arrowhead a few feet to her right. Her shoulders remain tense, her jaw set and her brows furrowed, she mutters to herself a few more times, her grip wavers, and the Kaza begins to hum. Canta tel Iruí, the Song of the Wrathful.

(Okay, sure, a bit more than four lines, but I adore this little snippet too much)

Cold Circuit:

Kaspar chuckles and rises to his feet. “You have three days to make your decision, Sibyl. If you accept, meet me back here in three days with Celephaïs, and, if you like, you may bring a third.” Kaspar, despite his victory, places a final stone on the Go board. “Choose wisely, Sibyl. A game like this has no winners.”

(I can't count, it seems, but this chapter is one of my personal favorites in the second draft, so I'm keeping it here)

Next month (September) marks a year since I started writing this novel, and I figured I should lock in and spend the next thirteen months writing the second draft of Cold Circuit.

“I’m in,” Cell’s voice crackles through my lewis signal, and they chuckle, “always wanted to say that, makes me feel like the main character of a cyberpunk story or somethin’.”

“You can’t be a cyberpunk main character,” Wrusty answers, “too caring for your own good. I’ll survive, though.”

“And what makes you think you’re worthy of being the protagonist, Aphrodite?” I tease aloud, “d’you think people’d even care ‘bout your career as a prosthetician?”

“I’d make a better protag than you, Janus,” Wrusty defends, “that much is certain. You’re too stuffy to be likeable.”

“Not here to be likeable. Here to ensure that you don’t—”

My shoulder bumps into an older man’s chest.

“I apologize, I was just—”

A left hand clasps my shoulder, and I freeze.

There’s an emerald ring on his finger

“Janus, you there? Yelena interrupts, “Janus, come in, Janus.”

Yelena, you might want to shut the operation down.