Curious?
Here's an insight in my writing process.
The victim? A now week-old drabble-turned short story I've been trying to crank out since Chapter 423 came out.
*****
He could feel his body…coming back to him again. Slowly, at first, though he struggled to move his toes. His mind was…slower. He couldn’t focus, place where he was, what he’d been doing or what that strange sensation was against his leg; cold, wet. His right hand eventually moved to where he’d been reaching. It’d taken more effort than it should have, his groggy mind suspected, to free it from the rubble. He stretched, the longest fingers of his right hand just brushing the dampness on his shin. He brought them close to his face, struggling to focus on the gooey strands of…something webbing between the tips of his fingers. What was that?
And why wouldn’t his other eye open?
Nevermind. He’d figured it out in a minute. One problem at a time.
He looked past his hand. There was a definite trail of whatever it was leading up his body. He moved his hand as far away as he could - not far at all - in order to follow the meandering line of slime. He traced the path, fingertips touching down momentarily at his chest when he realized it went beyond that.
His head was so heavy… It was taking far too much energy to hold it up just to look at his stupid fingers with this stupid goo all over them.
Ugh…What was with his head? His fingers stumbled on in uncontrolled questing until he stabbed something with entirely too much give to be his headband.
“Careful, young one,” a strong voice promptly warned as it received a solid and forceful poke. Its feminine voice was strangely soothing. He couldn’t place it. He had a feeling he should be able to… Even through the amusement he could sense in that tone…buried underneath was tension. Something shifted before it spoke again.
His thoughts were so fragmented.
“Try to hold on. Just a little longer.” There was a distinct slurping noise before it issued another thought spoken aloud. “I cannot save it. I’m not a medic.” It whispered, “But…one is on the way.”
He tried to speak, to voice his confusion. He’d only managed to swallow - with great difficulty - and choke out a noise. The unidentified creature seemed to sense his intent, at least, but he couldn’t decide if he should be grateful or concerned. He was leaning more towards concern with the sum of everything that was finally starting to add up in his head.
“Just a little longer, small one.”
He couldn’t hear. He failed to make out its words. The voice faded.
He couldn’t hold out any further.
*****
She frowned - deeply; she could feel the lines forming permanent homes on her face. She looked back to Katsuyu - well, the offshoot - currently joining forces with…itself to work on the Akimichi father and son team. She turned back to Kakashi. Her face was starting to numb from the severity of her frown.
He was in the worst shape. Katsuyu would make short work of the other two, but…she’d been unable to do little for Kakashi except stop his bleeding and heal minor abrasions. Her hand swung down to his chest for another check, her right remaining stationary over his injured eye for uninterrupted healing. She bit her lip. She didn’t think she could save it; the nail had been embedded too deeply. There were things torn and severed that she didn’t know where to pull the shreds from in order to reattach them. Too much damage had been done.
Her best option was to remove it, save him any infection and pain.
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her teeth cut into her lip. He…was not going to react well to that news.
(Kakashi wakes. Subdued panic sets in; realization; denial; anger; despair as he fails Obito again; the one thing he had left: to live his life for him.)
*****
Yes...well... More will be added soon enough...
I'm trying to get it all out. Really.
...just too lazy to write it, ya?
The victim? A now week-old drabble-turned short story I've been trying to crank out since Chapter 423 came out.
*****
He could feel his body…coming back to him again. Slowly, at first, though he struggled to move his toes. His mind was…slower. He couldn’t focus, place where he was, what he’d been doing or what that strange sensation was against his leg; cold, wet. His right hand eventually moved to where he’d been reaching. It’d taken more effort than it should have, his groggy mind suspected, to free it from the rubble. He stretched, the longest fingers of his right hand just brushing the dampness on his shin. He brought them close to his face, struggling to focus on the gooey strands of…something webbing between the tips of his fingers. What was that?
And why wouldn’t his other eye open?
Nevermind. He’d figured it out in a minute. One problem at a time.
He looked past his hand. There was a definite trail of whatever it was leading up his body. He moved his hand as far away as he could - not far at all - in order to follow the meandering line of slime. He traced the path, fingertips touching down momentarily at his chest when he realized it went beyond that.
His head was so heavy… It was taking far too much energy to hold it up just to look at his stupid fingers with this stupid goo all over them.
Ugh…What was with his head? His fingers stumbled on in uncontrolled questing until he stabbed something with entirely too much give to be his headband.
“Careful, young one,” a strong voice promptly warned as it received a solid and forceful poke. Its feminine voice was strangely soothing. He couldn’t place it. He had a feeling he should be able to… Even through the amusement he could sense in that tone…buried underneath was tension. Something shifted before it spoke again.
His thoughts were so fragmented.
“Try to hold on. Just a little longer.” There was a distinct slurping noise before it issued another thought spoken aloud. “I cannot save it. I’m not a medic.” It whispered, “But…one is on the way.”
He tried to speak, to voice his confusion. He’d only managed to swallow - with great difficulty - and choke out a noise. The unidentified creature seemed to sense his intent, at least, but he couldn’t decide if he should be grateful or concerned. He was leaning more towards concern with the sum of everything that was finally starting to add up in his head.
“Just a little longer, small one.”
He couldn’t hear. He failed to make out its words. The voice faded.
He couldn’t hold out any further.
*****
She frowned - deeply; she could feel the lines forming permanent homes on her face. She looked back to Katsuyu - well, the offshoot - currently joining forces with…itself to work on the Akimichi father and son team. She turned back to Kakashi. Her face was starting to numb from the severity of her frown.
He was in the worst shape. Katsuyu would make short work of the other two, but…she’d been unable to do little for Kakashi except stop his bleeding and heal minor abrasions. Her hand swung down to his chest for another check, her right remaining stationary over his injured eye for uninterrupted healing. She bit her lip. She didn’t think she could save it; the nail had been embedded too deeply. There were things torn and severed that she didn’t know where to pull the shreds from in order to reattach them. Too much damage had been done.
Her best option was to remove it, save him any infection and pain.
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her teeth cut into her lip. He…was not going to react well to that news.
(Kakashi wakes. Subdued panic sets in; realization; denial; anger; despair as he fails Obito again; the one thing he had left: to live his life for him.)
*****
Yes...well... More will be added soon enough...
I'm trying to get it all out. Really.
...just too lazy to write it, ya?