A double duty posting since I missed Sunday. Thus far this week, I haven’t done much of anything in terms of writing. I got a teeny bit done that I’m hoping to turn into something larger today so fingers are crossed. Having a bit of trouble moving at speed today since I managed to sleep wrong and have a stiff neck. I went to Urgent Care and got some pain killers and muscle relaxants so I’ll be taking those later tonight since I don’t want to nod off at the library.
Though, I don’t know how long I’ll be at the library since right now, between the Motrin and the pain in my shoulders, the pain is winning. *grumble*
Ooh…wait…I think the Motrin is rallying! Yay!
I’m feeling a bit disappointed since by this point in the month I was hoping to be closer to done with this draft than I am, but I’m trying to take comfort in the fact that I’m still working on the book and that the only timeline I’m on is one of my own invention and I can alter the timeline as needed. The important thing is not giving up.
So, toward that end? I’m going to get back to work! After the WIPpet Snippet:
WIPpet Math: April 25, 2018. Today is the 114th day since 01/01/2018. Ok, so 4+2+5+2+0+1+8 = 22. 2+2 = 4. 1+1+4 = 6. 4×6=24. Divide by 2 (since I’m doing two updates today) and that gives us 12. So, here’s the first 12 paragraphs of Chapter Three of Omegas: Cake Walk:
By 2245 hours, Torque had been waiting for the Omegas arrival for over an hour He’d positioned himself in a puffy, overstuffed chair that sat perpendicular to the door of the suite that had been booked for the Omegas. Technically, since he had the room key, he supposed he could have waited inside the suite but he was erring on the side of caution and waiting in the hall, the better to know when the Omegas finally arrived.
Torque sat with his hands cupping his knees, staring down the hallway toward the elevators and trying his hardest not to fidget. A lifetime of being raised in a quasi-military surrounding had left Torque with a high tolerance for boredom, but there were limits even to his well-practiced patience.
He glanced down at his watch and sighed. According to the timeline he’d been given by Director Kent, the Omegas’ flight was due in at 2100 hours; the airport they were flying into was half an hour from the hotel, so they should have arrived well before now, even with traffic. Instead, they were running late.
The seemingly casual disregard for punctuality and protocol made the middle of Torque’s shoulders itch. If you were supposed to arrive at a set time, you were required to make the effort to be there at that time. That had been lesson number two back at Starsplinter Labs; there was no excuse for tardiness.
Apparently, the rules were different for the Omegas. Or they simply ignored the rules, which would fit with everything he’d been told about their insubordinate ways. He wondered if it was too late for him to have Valentine try to get him out of this mess. Surely the fact he’d been willing to make the effort would still count for something.
Torque shifted in his seat, drumming his fingers on his knee and knowing that he wasn’t going to make that call. He’d volunteered for this and he was going to see it through. Even if he died of boredom in the process.
Torque leaned back and dug into his pocket, pulling out a few coins. He juggled them in his hand, letting them bounce up and down as he got a feel for their various weights.
Once he was sure he’d gotten a good feel for how much each coin massed, he selected a half-dollar piece and flipped it into the air with his thumb. He watched it sail into the air, waiting until it reached its apex and began falling back to earth. Then, he reached out with his mind and took hold of the coin, keeping it suspended in mid-air.
He rotated the coin, spinning it on its horizontal axis – slowly at first, but gradually speeding it up until it began to blur. There was a faint whirring sound as it spun.
While the coin spun, Torque flipped a dime into the air and sent it into orbit around the spinning half-dollar. He followed the first dime with a second one, then a third, sending them into orbit with the first to create a Saturn-like ring around the half-dollar.
Once he was certain the pseudo-Saturn was stable, Torque set the entire construction moving in a slow, lazy, vertical figure-eight. The coin-Saturn dropped toward the ground, barely brushing against the carpet, then drifted toward the ceiling. There was a tick as one of the dimes struck the plaster and began to wobble. Torque fought to maintain his control, but the wobble quickly spread throughout the entire coin-planet and it broke apart. With a frustrated sigh, Torque reached out to catch the coins as they showered down.
H caught the dimes easily enough but the half-dollar hit the ground and rolled away, coming to rest against the baseboard on the far side of the hallway.
With a sigh, Torque reached out with his mind and lifted the half-dollar, drawing it back toward him. As he did so, the elevator doors opened. Torque yanked the coin back toward him, snatching it out of the air as he stood up to greet the arrivals.
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