Is anyone else watching Sleepy Hollow, the new series on FOX (also known by the fans as “Ichabod Crane vs. the 21st Century” because that’s actually the best part of the show and no one’s really caring that much about the supernatural element)? Essentially, the premise is that shortly after beheading the Hessian soldier in the Revolutionary War, Ichabod Crane (in this version, a dashing Oxford scholar who defected to the American side) awakens in the 21st Century, along with the Headless Horseman, who is actually Death, of Four Horsemen fame, and this is the start of the Apocalypse. Meanwhile, Ichabod must learn about showers and handguns with more than one shot in them and taxes on doughnut holes.
Anyway, whilst discussing the second episode with my friend, Casey, last night, I remembered about the story I wrote in late primary school/early high school which also had a time traveling character named Ichabod (I had recently seen the Tim Burton Sleepy Hollow movie; he got renamed Archibald when I was typing things up because I wanted him to have a nickname and Ichy just didn’t work for me, even at age 13).
In the ten years since then, our home computer has been replaced a couple of times, and I’m on my second laptop (which is dying! Ahh!) but I’ve always kept the outline in my Stories folder. I pulled it up last night and, for the first outline I ever actually bothered writing (and even then, I’d written the first half when I figured out where it was going), I was kind of impressed with it… so much so that I almost feel I want to give it another chance… Cos, you know, I totally need more ideas.
I’m taking you back to Operation: Sugarplum this week, as I’ve finally started working on it a bit more. And by that I mean, forcing myself to because I keep procrastinating and that’s just not good enough. This is the scene before the one I posted last time, and basically immediately after this one from a few weeks ago (I just jumped a couple of lines to make the maths work better). I’m writing this on Thursday morning, but it’s still Wednesday in parts of the world, so this is 25 lines in honour of the 25th of September. Also, disclaimer: I’m actually not that skilled at writing fight scenes, and a lot of this is still in the “at least write something so you know what’s going on and then you can fix it later” stage.
[The creature] shoved Clara unceremoniously to one side. She tripped on the uneven ground where footpath met grass and fell against the brick wall that closed in a front yard from the nature strip. Her shoulder took the brunt of the impact, and she subconsciously raised an arm to rub it, though her eyes were glued to the scene unfolding in front of her.
For the first time, Clara got a good look at the thing which had been holding her. In place of fingers, it had four long claws and its face protruded in a small snout that put Clara in mind of the mice her brother had kept as pets when he was younger. As Max advanced towards it, its body shimmered slightly and Clara’s eyes widened as six identical copies split off from it and took up positions on either side.
The original one in the middle held up its hands in front of it and a glowing blue orb appeared in between them. It grew steadily larger until it was about the size of a basketball and then the creature lobbed it at Max. It wasn’t until Max raised a sword and deflected the blue orb that Clara realised he’d been holding anything. He took a defencive stance, the sword held in front of him, as the energy from the first blue Orb dissipated and it disappeared.
As if responding to some silent cue from their creator, the six clones then raised their hands in unison and all began creating similar pulsing blue orbs. Clara saw Max stiffen slightly, his eyes darting from one end of the line to the other, but then he squared his shoulders and waited for the onslaught The leader of the creatures laughed its throaty laugh again as the first of the missiles was launched at Max.
“What good is a sword, your Highness, against our powers? They sent you here to protect you, but Look at you! Useless!”
“You’d… be… surprised…” Max grunted, but it was true the odds were not in his favour. While he had been able to defend himself from the first couple of missiles, they were coming thicker and faster, forcing him to manoeuvre awkwardly. To make matters worse, each time one of the orbs was thrown, the thrower would immediately begin creating another, and they seemed to be becoming more powerful. Soon, Max was forced down onto one knee, holding the sword up in front of him like a shield and seemingly hoping for the best.
If you would like to join in on WIPpet Wednesday, just post an excerpt from your WIP that somehow correlates to the date (we encourage being creative with the date because you just Really. Want. To Post. This Bit!) then link up at the linky and check out what others have offered. As always, thanks to K. L. Schwengel for hosting. 🙂 And now it’s probably time I go, since I have to finish a job application. Just because I’m having the day off today because of a sore back (damn not being able to get into the chiropractor til later!), doesn’t mean I should be unproductive. I’ll catch y’all later! 🙂