NaNo update

OK, so I didn't get my fifty-thousand words, but I did get 47k, and the story is told, so as far as I'm concerned, I win! This is two Novembers in a row that I busted my ass to write, and I feel really good about it. This gives me a lot to think about, however, as I know I can take that mtoivation for a word count and turn it into the novel I have that's perpetually unfinished-- and getting longer and longer and longer!

Now about my novella:
It was supposed to be a comedy, but it turns out I can't write slapstick. So I restarted about the 10th, and write a Shadowrun inspired story. See, I used to run that game-- that means I was the "Dungeon Master" for our gaming group when we played Shadowrun. I always loved the world setting, and that game is fan-fucking-tastic! One of the story arcs I created morphed into this novella. There are a lot of changes, as I reworked it off the outline, as oppoed to what my players did. I can't remember now what they decided to do, I think burn the whole city down, to be honest. They were fairly violent! So, I wrote it as if my characters were running that mission, doing that run. I also reworked it enough to get it out of the Shadowrun universe, which didn't take much.

I'll do the heavy editing in January, and then decide if I'm going to offer it for sale. I haven't decided if I want to publish it or not. I am mostly just thrilled to have finished the story, and to know I'm happy with it.

Here's the prologue. I hope, if you read it, you like it.
The Tarot Card Murders
Prologue: The why and what

Down in the basement only chanting could be heard. Strictly unnecessary, it irritated the mage, but he understood some of the lesser magicians needed that focus; them, and the ones who had sacrificed their meagre talent for advancement in pacts with various entities. Fealty paid meant magical ability, so he waited for the murmurs to quiet, waited for them to enter the alpha state needed for the sending.
Finally the woman on his left stood and walked into the centre of the circle. She sat in the lotus and breathed out for what seemed like forever; then her head pitched forward, crumpling her body over her legs. She had projected, her spirit above them, dancing on the ethereal waves of the spiritual planes.

The man looked up at her, seeing her with his third eye's sight. Smacking her body, bruising her face, he ordered, “You know where to go. Find us the next target.”

The woman's spirit flew off, leaving a trail of pale silver string behind, the cord connecting her physical body with her astral one. She sought a young woman, a dancer, known to work for a seedy joint across town dancing and waiting tables. She could feel the energy that the circle mages had gathered for her, allowing her to range farther and faster, checking the places they knew the woman frequented. She could feel his hands around her body's throat and knew if she displeased him again, he wouldn't hesitate to squeeze her life out.

Finally, she found the girl, leaving the club. She sent back a thought-form to the man, in the shape of a small sylph, “I found her, she's at the Grab and Get down from her work.”

The man nodded and directed the circle to begin the sending. The chanting changed pitch as the magical energy condensed around them. A small circle opened at the pentagram to the man's right, a shimmering blue light showed them a portal, a window the size of his hand, but large enough to see.
The man began speaking, directing the energies, he weaved his hands through the air like a maestro, conducting the magic. He gathered it around his hands, directing it, drawing with it, winding the magical energy around a small piece of cardboard at his feet. When every line glowed blue-white, when the paper was so pregnant with magic that it began to swell, he picked it up and quickly shoved it through the small portal. The portal closed with an audible pop. 

They waited, and watched for the confirmation. Twenty minutes passed. The man began to get impatient, but forced himself to calm. Finally he heard the whoosh of an astral body, something only a very highly trained mage could hear. He watched the astral bodied woman drop into her body. The crumpled woman sat up slowly, her eyes glazed and unfocused as she slowly came back to herself.
“We did it, he arrived,” she whispered. “He did what he was meant to do.”

At the back of the room, one of the acolytes detached from the circle and tacked a card to the board; the card was a twin to the one they'd used earlier. It showed the drawing of a man, stick and kerchief over his shoulder, setting off on a journey with a small, black dog; and blithely preparing to walk over a cliff. The title of the card was simply, “0 The Fool”.

“Enough is enough!” She raised her voice, afraid and angry by turns. “We have to find someone who can help us.”

A slim woman raised her hand, “I know of someone who might be able to. But I don't know, I mean. This whole thing might be too much. Remember that guy who raped the little kids? I know how to get hold of the woman who killed him.”

The older woman nodded. “The crucifixion? How much will it cost?”

“I don't know, but I know she told me 'we fix things'. I know they help people,” her eyes were down cast, and she chewed on her finger nails. “I'm sure we can get enough together. We're getting desperate, if we're all honest. Maybe they take payments?”

“Then I'll call right now,” she held her phone, ready for the number. When her friend called it out, she dialled and told the voice mail their plight.


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