Camp NaNoWriMo Day 8

I got nothing done on day 7 because of that performance I had with school, so I didn’t bother posting about it. But I’m back! With writing! I’ve hit 23.8k, leaving me with only 1.2k to reach my goal.

It was a little difficult to get back into the swing of things after missing a full day of writing, but I got there and managed to finish the chapter I was working on.

Apparently I mistyped soup as soap at least once. Hell, I probably did it more than once. I had to severely proofread this excerpt before I posted it. Somebody save me.

Valora peered over the edge of the railing again, wincing at the water underneath.

“We can go inside,” Darian offered.

“No, it’s fine.” Valora took a generous sip of her soup, which still had to be face-meltingly hot. Apparently that was another ability pyrokinetics had: the ability to eat or drink anything without getting a burnt tongue. Handy.

“We’ve only got a few more days of this,” Darian said.

“Good. I feel weird. Like my brain is full of fog.”

Darian rested her forearms on the railing, letting the warmth of her cup seep through her gloves. “Dave will be at the research station. We’ll keep him away from you.”

“I’ll set him in fire myself,” Valora replied. “I appreciate the effort, but I can take care of myself. When my brain isn’t fogged.”

“When we make landfall, he’s all yours.”

“Thanks.” Valora’s hand was tight on the railing, but at least she’d stopped staring into the watery abyss underneath. “I’m impressed how thoroughly you scared the shit out of him. He won’t even look at me anymore.”

Darian shrugged. “I can be scary when I want to be.”

“Or maybe he’s just a chicken.”

“Well, that certainly helped. He wasn’t hard to intimidate. I was trying to shove a drugged drink down his throat at the time.” The vision of Dave cowering before her was pretty empowering, if she did say so herself. “I was surprised he didn’t put up a fight when I brought out the magic, though.”

“Because you’d already scared him shitless, sweetheart.”

“Okay, point.” Darian made a conscious decision not to question the nickname.

“It’ll be handy when we get to the research station,” Valora said. “We should make sure the soldiers on this ship spread it around when we land. That way, if we need to nudge anyone who’s being difficult…”

“Do I get a free spiked collar for being our designated attack dog?”

“Would you like one?”

“I wouldn’t mind. Goes great with flannel. Probably.” Darian had no idea what she was even going on about anymore.

Also this tiny extra section, just because Valora is very tall and Darian is Very Gay.

Darian tried her soup again; it was cool enough now. “So, I take it no one’s given you any trouble while I wasn’t looking?”

“No one,” Valora replied. “A few of them even apologised. I might’ve laughed myself to tears, which probably scared them a bit.”

“I imagine the sight of a six-foot girl crying in their faces would be quite terrifying.”

“I’m six-two, actually.”

It was just as well Darian was already leaning on something, because there was something about tall girls that just got to her. At least she could pass the flush off as a combined reaction to the cold and the heat of her soup.

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