askerian: Serious Karkat in a red long-sleeved shirt (Default)
askerian ([personal profile] askerian) wrote2015-07-01 03:42 pm

montly word count - june

TOTAL: 12 612

ORZ

POSTED:
-landlord ofic: Workplace in the Romance (8 246 words) (some of which was actually deleted scenes as i rewrote this thing like a motherfucker; will be posting them in this post just because)
-landlord ofic: Luce POV thing (1 564 words)

WIP:
-Covalent 'verse: Meenah, Damara, Kankri (2 802 words) (might actually be complete but also needs to be reread and fixed for continuity and descriptions.)

... i did plot a LOT for demon patrol, so while nothing is writen yet the thing is unblocked and might start to flow again any time soon, so all was not in vain!

... *flops*


(post-yeah i don't think we should date)

Sevan fell back onto his bed and spent a couple of minutes contemplating the ceiling.

He was about to drag himself up and go make an awkward appearance at dinner when his cell phone buzzed the new message warning.

It was Luce. He was barely surprised. hey sevie, piotr told me u might need a pep talk, wanna call?

Heh. He probably should. Might help... siiigh nah it's cool, should go out and have dinner. But yeah not going out with tall dark and roboty after all :'(

He had a new answer in under thirty seconds. He sat up, smiling a little bit.

aww, that sucks! im rly sorry for you, hon. :( .......... SO ABOUT THAT MAFIA THO.

"Pfff." Smiling, Sevan typed back, WHO CARES ABT THE MAFIA I JUST GOT DUMPED, sent it, and then, magnanimously, sent a second one before she had enough time to give herself an aneurysm. but yeah the mafia thing is also a problem I was not expecting and holy shit what do I do. will call u after dinner abt it, milena is threatening my omelet. :(

Milena wasn't. Sevan wasn't up to a long dissection of tonight's events yet, though -- he was barely up to the thought of a mostly silent dinner with a half-dozen people he'd just gone all Lord and Master on. And Mikhail.

He hoped Walburga would let him have tonight to process. He didn't think he could handle a productive 'what to do about the mafia' strategy session without ending up picking up Piotr under an arm and running for Luce's place.


--------------------

(first attempt at conclusion; decided mikhail was pinging too much like a tease)

Middle of the night and in the middle of confused dreams he woke. There had been a crowd of people without faces running scared, lemmings over a cliff, people he had to help somehow but they didn't listen, and then one of them was... "Mikhail?"

There was someone in his doorway, which he had left open like his parents had left the door open for him and his sister when they moved to the scary new house in the countryside, for reasons totally unrelated to any mothering instincts he might have toward, say, Timur. Or Irina, who didn't look like she was sleeping very well.

Okay and maybe he wanted to be awake if Piotr and Darius started sneak-kicking each other out of his view.

"How'd you even guess," Mikhail replied in a sleep-rough whisper, a quiet chuckle in his voice. The apartment was dark; Sevan squinted.

"... Iunno. Iron ping?"

"Could have been one of four," Mikhail countered, still leaning against his doorjamb. "Say, Milena."

"... Nah. Too much copper, not 'nough steel." He closed his eyes, to make sure. Yeah. Felt like Mikhail. "Wh'z up?"

"Couldn't sleep. Sorry I woke you up. She snores like a buzzsaw."

Huh. So she did. "Tha's Milena? Huh." He'd have pegged Kolya for heaviest snorer. Or Walburga. The noise was kind of horrible now that he was waking up. "Hmm."

--------------------

"We're all a bit paranoid anyway," Irina told him, voice kind. "I know I sleep better when someone else is up, it's no trouble."

"By that she means she wouldn't sleep at all, so someone would be up anyway," Kolya said, and got up from the couch, a hand going in extremis to catch his towel as it attempted to slide to the ground.

Sevan wondered if that was PTSD -- sounded like it. Then again Mikhail had apparently considered it reasonable to sleep on Sevan's fire escape that second night...

... He felt weird, remembering how much of a mess Mikhail had been the first few days, shocked quiet and obedient, eyes never still, tense like a doberman raised offhandedly, half-abandoned in a car lot. Two weeks later and he was throwing teasing comments, flirting -- Sevan wondered how many of them weren't okay at all, had just grown proficient at pretending to be.