Holy Snap!
Jun. 4th, 2011 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
caitriOkay, so I'm trying to revise and rewrite Heaven is Bloodless, ie the epic Kushiel fic sequel/Paradise Syndrome reboot/AU epic o' doom, and I had to take a moment to fact-check, and over at her site, Jacqueline Carey mentions that Terra Nova is going to be in the new book, and I'm 1) thrilled because OMG there was just a passing mention in one of the previous books and it's this whole thing in my fic and OMG OMG HOW COOL IS THAT and 2) a little freaked because I want to get this fic finished for poor, patient ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
heeroluva cos it was supposed to be due in MARCH but my muse went nuts and somehow it stalled at 42k with a million characters every which way, and I want it done but I also want it to be as true to canon as a Trek XI mash-up can be, and Argh Argh Argh!
SIGH. Here, have a snippet. It's the prologue, which right now may be the only damn thing that survives the revision intact:
It’s sunny out in the fields behind Pike’s country home. Nyota has gathered an abundance of wildflowers and is weaving them into garlands, while Spock plays the lyre placidly at her side.
“Spock! Nyota!” Jim feels relief bubbling up through him giddily. “I thought you were gone!”
“No one’s ever quite gone, Jim.” He turns, and there is Pike, resplendent in the dark brocade he was fond of, sword buckled at his side. He looks rakish and handsome, strong and brave and safe—much as Jim first saw him when he was a boy. “There’s always that which remains.”
“We are ever with you, my friend,” Spock says in that serious way of his, “but you dwell o’ermuch on us.”
“What do you mean?” Jim feels stung.
“You need to let us go, Jim.” Nyota’s voice is gentle but firm. She takes the garlands she has crafted, placing one on her head, then one on Spock’s, and then one on Pike’s.
“Nothing for me?” He keeps his voice light, but he feels hurt all the same.
“Not yet, Jim. Not for a long while, I hope.” She smiles, at once bright and kind and sad. “You have so much to do first. So many things to see, Jim.”
“Jim?”
“She’s right, son,” Pike says, his expression an echo of hers.
This is when Jim remembers that they are dead, and he is not. “I’m sorry,” he says to all of them. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Apologies are illogical,” Spock says implacably. “Nero’s attack was hardly your fault. Neither were our deaths. But you should live your own life now, Jim.”
“Jim!”
“It’s time to go, son,” Pike says. He squeezes Jim’s shoulder firmly in
farewell. “We’ll see one another again one day. Never fear, Jim.”
“Goodbye, Jim.” Nyota’s lips on his cheek, the press of Spock’s hand on his. They are receding into the distance, shadows in a bright light—
“Jim!”
It’s Bones’s voice he realizes muzzily. He coughs, blinking up at the sky. His eyes feel like they are crusted with something, and all around him are the cries of people in battle, the sharp reports of the Aragonian pistolas.
“Bones?” he mutters, ears ringing. “Bones?”
“I’m here, Jim.” The man looks hardly better than Jim feels, face dark with dirt and soot. Dressed in his dark brown leathers and with a bow and quiver strapped to his back, sword buckled at his belt and a tomahawk dangling at his side, he looks fierce as hell. His hand touches Jim’s cheek. “I’m here.”
Kill me now. IDEK.
heeroluva cos it was supposed to be due in MARCH but my muse went nuts and somehow it stalled at 42k with a million characters every which way, and I want it done but I also want it to be as true to canon as a Trek XI mash-up can be, and Argh Argh Argh!SIGH. Here, have a snippet. It's the prologue, which right now may be the only damn thing that survives the revision intact:
It’s sunny out in the fields behind Pike’s country home. Nyota has gathered an abundance of wildflowers and is weaving them into garlands, while Spock plays the lyre placidly at her side.
“Spock! Nyota!” Jim feels relief bubbling up through him giddily. “I thought you were gone!”
“No one’s ever quite gone, Jim.” He turns, and there is Pike, resplendent in the dark brocade he was fond of, sword buckled at his side. He looks rakish and handsome, strong and brave and safe—much as Jim first saw him when he was a boy. “There’s always that which remains.”
“We are ever with you, my friend,” Spock says in that serious way of his, “but you dwell o’ermuch on us.”
“What do you mean?” Jim feels stung.
“You need to let us go, Jim.” Nyota’s voice is gentle but firm. She takes the garlands she has crafted, placing one on her head, then one on Spock’s, and then one on Pike’s.
“Nothing for me?” He keeps his voice light, but he feels hurt all the same.
“Not yet, Jim. Not for a long while, I hope.” She smiles, at once bright and kind and sad. “You have so much to do first. So many things to see, Jim.”
“Jim?”
“She’s right, son,” Pike says, his expression an echo of hers.
This is when Jim remembers that they are dead, and he is not. “I’m sorry,” he says to all of them. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Apologies are illogical,” Spock says implacably. “Nero’s attack was hardly your fault. Neither were our deaths. But you should live your own life now, Jim.”
“Jim!”
“It’s time to go, son,” Pike says. He squeezes Jim’s shoulder firmly in
farewell. “We’ll see one another again one day. Never fear, Jim.”
“Goodbye, Jim.” Nyota’s lips on his cheek, the press of Spock’s hand on his. They are receding into the distance, shadows in a bright light—
“Jim!”
It’s Bones’s voice he realizes muzzily. He coughs, blinking up at the sky. His eyes feel like they are crusted with something, and all around him are the cries of people in battle, the sharp reports of the Aragonian pistolas.
“Bones?” he mutters, ears ringing. “Bones?”
“I’m here, Jim.” The man looks hardly better than Jim feels, face dark with dirt and soot. Dressed in his dark brown leathers and with a bow and quiver strapped to his back, sword buckled at his belt and a tomahawk dangling at his side, he looks fierce as hell. His hand touches Jim’s cheek. “I’m here.”
Kill me now. IDEK.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 05:29 pm (UTC)I was just thinking about this story as I was driving in to work today, no lie! I love the update.
*resumes dancing*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 06:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:02 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:03 pm (UTC)Well are you planning to just follow it through the plot of STXI, or through the books or veer off into a new world? And I'm sure it'll go fine :D
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:15 pm (UTC)Edited for appropriate icon. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:22 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-04 09:57 pm (UTC)I'm definitely going to read this when you're done! X3
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-05 12:29 am (UTC)Funny story about storing my awesome. It involves a fake leg and a girl named Sandy...
Well. You prob don't wanna hear about that.... ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-05 01:28 am (UTC)If the girl is involved with the fake leg, shouldn't she be named Peggy?
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-05 01:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-05 02:44 am (UTC)...
*headdesks*
*then lols*
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-05 03:55 am (UTC)