First and foremost, I am soooo fucking sorry I've been away.
Thanks for all the well wishing, but I didn't experience anything other than a shitty move, a "vacation" (just because you say both to "business or pleasure?" you don't get to be James Bond), and a short lived romance with an insane Swede.
Suffice to say I've been busy, but I have been writing, and you'll find the first sequence of Action 8 at the bottom of this. By the way thealchemist, action seven is on the previous page in two installments. If it doesn't work I'll try to upload it again.
The real problem I've been facing with Pressia is that I originally started it to be a fun little porno romp, but as writing progressed Teuschle began to take on a life of her own and actually become a pretty strong character. This means that the ENTIRE FUCK OFF PLOT TREE I had planned out from the beginning has become for the most part null and void. I basically stabbed myself in the neck by killing off the Low King (the evil bastard) who was supposed to be the big bad at the end, and the politics behind wearing the Collars got better and shot me in the foot by becoming a major plot element that I originally devised to give the reader a first person perspective to what was happening to them. Which means the collar monitoring system had to have some justifiable reason to be turned off, and for people to take off/put on their collars as well as a solid representation for the repercussions for doing so.
Blegh.
Essentially, I evolved Teuschle from "my hips are moving on their own" stereotypical into a character that I (and hopefully you) give a shit about, which makes almost every possible ending out of character for her. Seriously, you guys were two choices away at the beginning from Katie being a simpering slave girl being drug around Pressia before ultimately being floated off-world as a concubine for the illustrious Low King.
So when I FINISHED the entirety of Action 8 about a month ago I looked at it, read it against what I'd already written, then promptly printed it up, deleted the file, then BURNED the fucking manuscript in a trash pit a mile from my desk. It was shit. Nonsensical shit that I won't expose you to for sake of being compared to that Meyer... thing.
Do not be discouraged, however, as I have gone back through nearly everything and patched together a much better end run for Pressia. We're nearing the end of this thing now though, and I'd put us as being roughly three or four Actions away from the end of the thing as a whole. So, stick with me.
Again, sorry for bugging out on you guys for so long.
Here's your reward for sticking with it.
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
[begin audio playback]
[on foot]
Water moved in a silent rush across the steel lip of the hangar doors, pooling and eddying around my feet as I tried to find someway to jump the few meters down to the ground. I was abnormally calm then. In the sullen dark of the cavernous hangar were the bodies of the men I’d just killed. The blood and filth of their deaths washed away by the water that now ran around my boots. I’d killed people before, animals, lots of things. It was hard the first time, to point a gun and pull the trigger on someone. The old cliché was that it got easier, and it did. Then after a while it got harder to get over how meaningless each successive kill was. Names came and went. Faces. Numbers. At that moment the only thing I’d feel when I made a kill was a bit of disdain for an improper execution, reproaching myself for a lack of accuracy or an ineffective grab.
At some point in my career I’d become mechanical, efficient, and bored. That was my last mission on that little planet so far from the core. I’d let men inside me. Killed unflinchingly. All for a mission I couldn’t define or understand. The outcome didn’t even matter. I just kept moving forward and saying fuck you to anything that stood in my way.
I found a service ladder at the far end of the doors. It was cut into the rock face of the cliff or whatever that the hangar had been cut into, and ringed with red and orange stripes. Pressian warning colors were the same as human, I thought, marking the information as strange and tucking it away. I took care descending the wet rungs of the ladder and a few seconds later I was on the ground. Runoff had made it marshy and water pooled up to my ankles. I don’t know why to this day, but I jumped as high as I could as splashed, sending waves across the pool and covering the nearby wall with soupy mud.
Then I did it again and again, jumping up and down like a lunatic and covering myself and the wall with grimy dirt. I jumped until my breathing went ragged, playing in the mud like a little girl and laughing my ass off before finally skipping my way out of the boggy runoff to a hill that ran up and out of the water’s path. I fell to my knees almost immediately they were shaking so bad. I looked up at the sky. It was empty, blue. Clear of any imperfections. I took it in, letting the heat from the local star wash over me. Then I leaned to the side and puked and dry heaved until tears came from my eyes. I crawled away shaky and somehow embarrassed, letting myself rest a moment before rolling over on my back and looking up at the sky again.
“I’m fucked for life,” I said to myself before beginning another fit of stupid laughter. Something in the sky caught my eye and a second later I was up and running for cover, my heart racing. A second sun hung in the Pressian sky. I hit the ground and dug myself as deep as I could into the sand. A second later the sky ripped and the atmosphere screamed as it was being devoured.
PS For the scenes that don't have a "POV Code" at the top of them, that's Teuschle after she took her collar off narrating from first person past tense. Every other character is listed at the top and that scene's their's until it ends. Some characters like San Paral who've been mind-jacked by the Abomination will sometimes have it playing over their thoughts. It's a style thing.