dragonimp

Just over 1900 words into Part XI and finally feeling like I have something I can work with. The characters are doing things I hadn't anticipated, of course, but at least they're not staring at me anymore. They'd been staring at me for a while now, and it was starting to wig me out.

Of course this happens just as my writing time gets severely limited.

I also wrote out this little snippet when I was trying to get back into the grove for writing Silver. Unfortunately my POV character is asleep here, so it won't end up in the main work. But I like this little conversation, so I'm going to post it here for the hell of it.

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Tori walked over and crouched down next to where Silver was rummaging through their backpack. “Hey. How’re you feeling?”

He looked up at her and said, simply, “Hungry.”

“At the rate you’re going, we’re going to have to get more food soon. Like, today.”

“I’m sorry.” The boy glanced away long enough to pull a sandwich out of the bag, then looked back up. “I need to eat.”

“Not like I’m telling you not to.” Tori chewed her lip for a moment, then asked, “So, you’re really all right? I mean, you’re not going to keel over on us or something?”

Silver took a moment to finish his bite, then said, “It hurts, but that’s only a residual effect. Everything is . . . back together.”

“Damn. That’s gotta be a handy trait.” She sat down, taking the opportunity to look around the room and shift her gaze away from his strange eyes. She was getting used to them, but his stare was still disturbing. “So, this place you were at,” she started, resting her arms on her raised knees, “I guess they did some pretty weird shit to you, huh?”

He didn’t answer.

“But—why? Why would they do all that? And with Erin and Eddie now? And why are they going through all this shit to get them back?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw him shrug, but the gesture didn’t seem to be a dismissal. She turned and found him regarding her with what she took to be a thoughtful expression. It was so hard to tell with this kid.

“I was never given access to the underlying reasons,” he said, seeming to measure each word. “The project did not begin with me nor did I encompass it, and I assume that information was stored elsewhere, outside of my access.” He paused to take another bite, silver-grey eyes still studying her face. “The people there are scientists. Scientists . . . often need little reason or excuse, only means. At least,” something flicked across his face for a moment, “that’s how they often seemed to me.”

Tori stared at him for a moment, trying to piece out what he’d said, then shook her head and gave up. “Shit. So—how long were you there?”

Again he didn’t answer, but that might have been because his mouth was full.

“You . . . grew up in that place, didn’t you.”

The boy didn’t confirm or deny it, but she thought she saw something cautious or wary in his eyes.

“I just mean, that could explain why you’re so—well, the way you are. Not how you look. I get that you’re,” she waved a hand at his metallic hair, “y’know, a freak. But you stand out more from the way you act than the way you look.” Tori glanced around the room and folded her arms over her knees. “First time I saw you, I just assumed it was hair dye and contacts. Then I kinda figured you were some funky sort of albino or something.”

A small movement, not much more than a twitch, caught her eye and she looked back to the unusual boy sitting next to her. He’d paused in his eating, his eyebrows—visible against his pale skin only because of their metallic sheen—raised just slightly. “That’s . . . not incorrect.”

“No shit? Huh.” She smiled, making another vague gesture. “See, no one’d care that you looked like a freak, if you didn’t act like one. I mean—hell, do you ever laugh?”

Silver blinked at her question. “. . . No,” he said, after a pause. “I never have.”