“Roque!” I found myself barking defensively into the telephone, waking to the harsh alarm of its ring. My heart was throbbing painfully in my chest... I had dozed off with my head down on the now-dormant surface of the drafting desk which, when unlit, was nothing more than a matte, gunmetal grey. Gulping down air as subtly as possible and trying to calm myself down, I focused on the voice that came through. Disappointingly, it was not Isolde. ( Read more... )
Some of this is redundant: I reworked a scene I posted earlier on a bit and tied it to the rest of the beginning. I don't want to leave the big holes for too long or else I'll never tie them in!
Gods, I'm so exhausted... -.-
Wordcount as of November 4th: 8,017