Friday, October 15, 2010

Hannibal's room

A sudden cold spreads across Hannibal Moxy's faces. He rises in surprise. His eyes a wide and anxious. He sucks in breathes of air and his heart thumps a 100 beats a minute. He lifts ahand to wipe the water from his face and casts a few quick glances over his surroundings. To his right is John Forbush, an old friend from school.
Hannibal spits a few bits of water out of his mouth, and asks, "Jesus, John. What'd you do that for?"
John Forbush grabs a chair, and sits down, placing the empty water jug on a night stand next to Hannibal's bed. John replies, "Asking nicely wasn't working."
John takes a sweepign look across the room. Littered around the floor are diagrams of circles and mathematical equations about them. He can barely understand them all but is troubled by what he sees. John asks, "Hannibal, what have you been doing all this time?"
Hannibal rises off the bed and stretches. He is not sure how long he has been asleep but he can feel the suns rays beating through the windows. He reckons it must be 10 or 11 in the morning. "Damon left me here after school. Says the ambient magic in the area can keep me powered for how ever long I need it. The circles are my pet project."

God I feel like I can do so much more with this. I just wanted to ge tsomethign on paper so I can mull it over and really work on it in the future. IDK if I want to keep his name John Forbush, but I needed a placeholder. I need more detailed setting information. I've been reading about voice and person, too recently, and how if I use third person, I should always keep it trained on one person at least for the chapter, and not use it to examine whats going through another character's head. I know i've used the 3rd person to talk abotu Hannibal and John's feelings in this brief write up.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Enter the Moxy

The doors blow off the hinges of the front entrance to the Brothel. A dazzling array of lights glide through the main lobby of the building, bathing the area in hues of green, yellow, red, and blues. A small band plays in a darkened corner. The sounds of the cello thumps in tune with Hannibal's heart. The trumpet plays a wild tune as the player is shocked by the abrupt entrance. The remaining members of the band fall silent.

In the back of the sits Lars. His legs are splayed and head lolls the the right side as two ladies attend to his body. He is not dressed in any sort of battle gear that most people identify him in. However, Hannibal can feel the power of the immortal viking press against him like a sweltering summer heat. 

The blast of unseen force Hannibal used to annihilate the doors dies down. His overcoat drifts ad wafts into a settled position. Hannibal tenses his body, waiting to see Lars' first move. He is not eager for a fight to erupt yet. He wants to allow as much time as possible to elapse, and allow his body to absorb as much ambient mystical enegies as possible.

Lars lifts his lazy head, curious to examine the man who interrupts his quiet time. Lars snaps his fingers and the band resumes their play. The tune is more exciting. The beat is faster and the lights begin to slowly coalesce around Hannibal. The room grows dimmer as the wisps of light are absorbeed into Hannibal.

Some of the working women in the lobby begin to move to the walls. A shocked look in their faces. The darkness begins to creep into the room from the edges towards Hannibal. Lars sits up attentively, looking about himself and watching the light in the room receed towards Moxy. Before he is enveloped into darkness his eyes meet Hannibals, and his mouth breaks into a shape a wolf makes when snarling at an enemy. Then, darkness.

Its silent until lights sine along the wall. Torches illuminate the room and show Hannibal and Lars standing nose to eye of each other. Hannibal notices the Viking is tall, lean, and muscled. Lars' face showed a few days growth of facial hair. His red hair was long and shiny. His voice is smooth. Hannibal was surprised how civilized this man seemed. 

I'm not doing so well, thinking of dialog. :(

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Before the fight.

Hannibal could feel the shadows crowd around him. The denizens of the unseen darkness want to be privy to a fight between the unusual magician and the underworlds most noted thug. Hannibal knew they were accomplices in Lars destruction in the museum. However, he felt their alien reasoning didn't make them accountable for their part in this mess. He could easily understand. Hannibal feels his own thought processes are alien to this town. He experienced things that no normal person in this world has experienced. He brought a set of core values and beliefs that are constantly questioned by the peculiar way things are done in Everton. With a smirk he resolved to give these dark beings a show for their entertainment.

He could feel the power radiating from Lars' hideout. Proximity to power tells Hannibal what he needs to know. Lars is a powerful entity on a level Hannibal has only experienced once before. He spends a few moments, in order to savor the ambient energy and allowing it to flow into his form.  He is now fueled for the fight and swallows a gulp of air, unsure of the outcome. 

SO, I might be able to extend this scene a bit farther. IDK if I want to do such a thing. I know Ihavent gone into who Lars is or what his hideout actually is. My goal in this writing was to get back on the horse and establich a shot of a coming battle. I wanted to attempt to signify that other forces are interested in this figh besides Hannibal and his Antagonist. I wanted to indicate that Hannibal feels like an outside in the world he exists. I also wanted to set up how formidable a foe Lars, the Antagonist, is.