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Nov. 30th, 2007 11:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coraaThud.
It's not done -- the whole of it will probably be 90,000 to 120,000 -- but I'm happy with my start. Yay!
And an excerpt -- very, very rough:
"Here," Pigeon said. She reached up to the tattered cloth and tugged at it. At the top, where it was dusty and eaten by moths, it shuddered and then gave way, and fell at her feet.
The machine rose up before them -- much larger than could possibly have been covered by the bit of cloth at their feet, and yet... Tubes of glass and pipes of polished brass erupted from it as if at random, and then dove back into the morass. Gears turned, or did not turn; some were of iron as large as Thorkatla was tall, others were of crystal no bigger than Pigeon's littlest fingernail. Pigeon raised her lantern, and the light flashed off glass and crystal and metals of all kinds, chains and spokes and gear-teeth. Parts of it moved slowly, like a great creature breathing; other parts were fixed, as though they were the bones of mountains. The whole glimmered as it moved, in the dim light, a shining and flashing like the eyes of a great hidden creature.
"This is it?" Thorkatla asked, and her voice was full of skepticism. She raised her lantern as well, and frowned at the machine.
Pigeon opened her mouth to speak, but Lya was faster. "...Yes," Lya interrupted. Her voice was soft and full of awe. She put down her lantern and reached out to put a hand on one of the brass tubes. "Yes. This is it."
"How can you tell?" Thorkatla asked. She pulled her bearskin higher up around her shoulders.
"I just can," Lya said. "Can't you? I mean -- the markings there, and the way the timing movement works...."
"I don't see it either," Pigeon said, in her thin voice. "But I can trust you." She looked at Thorkatla.
Thorkatla sighed, and used the flame of her lantern to light one of the room's stone torchiers. "I trust you," she said said to Lya. "But I do not trust that. I do not put my faith in gearworks of any kind."
"That's because you're a barbarian," Lya said, but gently. She laughed. "And you're definitely not an engineer. But I am."
"This means something to you."
Lya touched the etching on the largest wheel, where shapes -- some familiar, some monstrous and alien -- had been etched in the brass. A great iron hand pointed between one symbol and another. "Yes," she said. "It means everything to me."
Pigeon's voice was soft. "And you can fix it." It was not a question.
"Yes," Lya said. "I can make it as it was meant to be. If I can have enough time." She reached back for the pliers hanging from her apron's belt, beneath her woolen cloak. "I can make it work."
"Then make it work," Thorkatla said, sharply, but not without humor. "And then I will believe it."
It's not done -- the whole of it will probably be 90,000 to 120,000 -- but I'm happy with my start. Yay!
And an excerpt -- very, very rough:
"Here," Pigeon said. She reached up to the tattered cloth and tugged at it. At the top, where it was dusty and eaten by moths, it shuddered and then gave way, and fell at her feet.
The machine rose up before them -- much larger than could possibly have been covered by the bit of cloth at their feet, and yet... Tubes of glass and pipes of polished brass erupted from it as if at random, and then dove back into the morass. Gears turned, or did not turn; some were of iron as large as Thorkatla was tall, others were of crystal no bigger than Pigeon's littlest fingernail. Pigeon raised her lantern, and the light flashed off glass and crystal and metals of all kinds, chains and spokes and gear-teeth. Parts of it moved slowly, like a great creature breathing; other parts were fixed, as though they were the bones of mountains. The whole glimmered as it moved, in the dim light, a shining and flashing like the eyes of a great hidden creature.
"This is it?" Thorkatla asked, and her voice was full of skepticism. She raised her lantern as well, and frowned at the machine.
Pigeon opened her mouth to speak, but Lya was faster. "...Yes," Lya interrupted. Her voice was soft and full of awe. She put down her lantern and reached out to put a hand on one of the brass tubes. "Yes. This is it."
"How can you tell?" Thorkatla asked. She pulled her bearskin higher up around her shoulders.
"I just can," Lya said. "Can't you? I mean -- the markings there, and the way the timing movement works...."
"I don't see it either," Pigeon said, in her thin voice. "But I can trust you." She looked at Thorkatla.
Thorkatla sighed, and used the flame of her lantern to light one of the room's stone torchiers. "I trust you," she said said to Lya. "But I do not trust that. I do not put my faith in gearworks of any kind."
"That's because you're a barbarian," Lya said, but gently. She laughed. "And you're definitely not an engineer. But I am."
"This means something to you."
Lya touched the etching on the largest wheel, where shapes -- some familiar, some monstrous and alien -- had been etched in the brass. A great iron hand pointed between one symbol and another. "Yes," she said. "It means everything to me."
Pigeon's voice was soft. "And you can fix it." It was not a question.
"Yes," Lya said. "I can make it as it was meant to be. If I can have enough time." She reached back for the pliers hanging from her apron's belt, beneath her woolen cloak. "I can make it work."
"Then make it work," Thorkatla said, sharply, but not without humor. "And then I will believe it."
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no subject
Date: 2007-12-01 08:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-12-02 08:17 pm (UTC)