“Once, a put-upon time mage fell in love. She did nothing so bromidic as writing a good old-fashioned love sonnet. It was a strong, pure love, yet purity never required good intentions. This love was selfish and perfect. The love of power over all other interests.”
This really just makes me laugh. It reads as rather good, I think, except that it doesn’t really lead anywhere. It can’t quite be anything. A prologue to a really cheesy villain, maybe. Or a crappy beginning to something with a wide-eyed protagonist that is still an infant. “She sucked in power like air into a vacuum, and then it overtook her. Her body reversed its inclinations, and the power rippled back into the world. That was when the trouble started.” I think I just liked writing the word bromidic.
I could give it to Pippa, but she has her own world. Her story definitely starts when she’s older. At least twelve. She’s a fun one, but not where my mind is at the moment.
Although that may be because I’m not sure where my mind is. This morning, it was all around a story and that stupid Bronco outside my window. I had to move my car so they could tow it without doing damage to my vehicle. But other than that, it’s been a pretty productive day. Laundry has gotten done, and I actually got another colour into my slowest project ever. I’m going to get back to work on that in a minute, actually. It’s been a really slow day, but in a good way.