As I suspected yesterday, I’m starting to find it harder to write so my wordcount wasn’t as high as it had been previously. Even so, I managed to break 20.1k (having written 3.1k), leaving me with less than 5k more to write until I hit the 25k goal I set before the start of April. Depending on how I feel at the end of that, I might upgrade my goal to 30k. I’m going back to school soon, so I’m not sure how that will pan out.
The next two days probably won’t get great writing-wise, since I’ve got a performance with my school, but then I’ve got a few days after that before class starts back officially. I’ll deal.
I’m not a huge fan of what I wrote, since I’m starting to have doubts about the particular plot point I’m writing. I’ll probably take it out in the next draft when I’m not holding onto my wordcounts like my last dollar.
This excerpt’s a little long. Yay. It deals with drink-spiking, in case that’s a sore spot for anyone:
“You look thirsty, Dave.” Darian used the momentum to swing him into the wall. “Care for a drink?”
“Valora’s cup?” She held it up to her eye level. “Yes, actually. But since you were so keen to swap spit with her earlier, I figured it wouldn’t bother you. It’s about as close as you’ll ever get to the real thing now. It’s even wearing her lipstick.” A soft imprint of red. “You poured her drink, yes?”
“Okay, thanks for clarifying.” Darian smiled at him, the kind of sharp smile she knew unnerved people. “Since you’re quite familiar with the contents of this glass, I figured you wouldn’t mind finishing it off. Valora’s rather indisposed, you see, and I’d hate for a good drink to go to waste. But, seeing as I really shouldn’t be drinking at my age…”
Dave was visibly sweating. “Uh, no. That’s okay.”
“Really? What’s the problem? You were clearly about to keep drinking anyway, if the open bottle in your hand’s anything to go by.”
“It’s just… you know…”
“What? Gross? You seemed pretty keen to get your tongue in her mouth before. So what’s the real issue? Drink it and I’ll leave you alone.”
If Dave’s pupils shrunk any further, they’d get sucked into his irises completely. “You’ll—you’ll leave me alone if I drink that?”
“Why, yes. You’re so clever.” Darian drifted the glass closer to Dave’s lips. “Well? How about it?”
Dave jerked his face away.
“Aw. Now you’re hurting my feelings. Come on.”
“How about this? You have two options to make me leave you alone.” Darian flexed her fingers on the cup, just to draw out the suspense. “Option one: you drink it. Now, clearly, you don’t want to do that, so that brings us to option two: tell me what the hell you put in this cup. And I don’t mean what kind of alcohol so don’t try to get smart with me.”
“Drink or tell.” Darian didn’t have the patience for this.
“Drink or tell.” She’d shove this drink down his throat if she had to.
“Drink or tell.”
“I’m not telling you anything!”
That was it. Darian flung out her hand, vines bursting from the walls and the floor and wrapping around Dave’s body until every part of him was hidden but his face. It should have hurt. It should have tired her out. But she was too angry to care. It swelled inside her like a power of its own, strengthening her resolve through even the mere thought of setbacks.
“Let me make something very clear,” she said, curling her hand into a fist and dragging Dave down by the vines until he was sitting on the floor.
“Too bad.” Darian sat on his knees, cup held right up to his face. “Whether you tell me what you did to Valora or drink what you gave her is not up for debate. You will do one of these things. I can’t force you to talk, but I can force this poison down your throat until you have no choice but to drink it or drown.”