Taking opinions on this
Apr. 16th, 2012 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdIs this a good opening? Does it grab you?
The Obsidian Tower loomed up, three Net nodes away as Sean took a moment to steel himself. He gathered his red cloak about him, settled his Roman helmet more firmly on his head and made the transition to the base of the tower.
He stopped outside the blackthorn hedge, ignoring the skeletons that hung on it, the thorny vines twining in and around their their bones. “Mistress of the tower,” he called, “I come at your bidding.”
For a moment nothing happened. Sean waited, hoping that he wasn't about to get hit with intrusion countermeasures. It was really rude to use ice on an invited guest. But the big time, like the Technomancer, played by their own rules.
The blackthorn hedge parted before him and he walked toward the tower. A narrow bridge of obsidian spanned a lava-filled chasm, arching to a dizzying height. Sean strode along it as if it were a sidewalk. His body was safely on the couch at home, and nothing would harm him, except the Technomancer herself.
Caltrops rolled out of his way and he caught a glimpse of a woman's back attached to a snake's tail as the Medusa program, a vicious piece of watchdog ice, slithered around the curve of the tower. That one would turn his avatar to stone here in the Net and prevent him from jacking out. He would be immobile and aware as his body slowly starved to death back in meat-space.
The great portcullis did not rise, but a guy dressed in a seedy 1920's style suit opened a man-door beside it. A barely visible line of type identified him as Mark Grayson.
“Come on in. Herself is waiting for you.”
Sean followed Mark into the tower's outer courtyard. He tried not gasp when the place filled up with water. His body was fine, only his mind was in the middle of a sunken city's courtyard, being approached by a merman.
The merman sang and the words came to Sean through the water. “Come, she awaits you on the highest level and swimming is faster than stairs.” Sean looked down to find he had grown a fishy tale as had Mark.
Mark swam over and kissed the new arrival. “Warn our visitor before you do that. He held his breath for a second.”
The mermen swam up through the dim green waters of the courtyard, and Sean followed them. Changes of program in the Net were common enough, if a bit disquieting. He'd wander through more than one faux-Roman countryside only to find himself in mid-rock concert or a dimension of mobile shapes, or deep inside a dungeon. He watched how the men swam and imitated them, closing the gap.
They swam to the top of the tower, and in at a window. Sean was unsurprised to find himself standing on legs again in a wizard's workroom, his mer companions clothed in black tabards which bore the Technomancer's emerald insignia.
The Technomancer herself, Zara beht Ellanya the type said, looked up from a shallow bronze dish. “Caladus, owned by Gemini.” A thin smile crossed her narrow face. “Sean Patrick O'Neill, thief, occasional Net-runner, con-man, courier, and indentured servant of LedaCorp.”
Sean fumed to hear his life summarized so dismissively. “Wait a minute-”
She drew herself to her full height, towering half a foot over him, her long black hair blending with her long black dress. Her salt-pale arms almost shone against the black and raised a sense of inexplicable fear in him. A single gesture dismissed her two servants.
“Our time is brief. Let me explain what I want of you, without your interjections, little man. Gemini has approached you to acquire your wife, Kyla McLean, the Irishgirl.”
Sean nodded. Saying anything about that job seemed like a bad idea.
“The goal is to have you rework her until she can run the Net again, but you are to keep her as a sex-slave.” Zara's aristocratic nose wrinkled at this. “I know what uses my brother has put her to and the changes he has wrought in her. Kyla will not be able to be half a runner and half a slave.”
Sean nodded again. Zara was putting into words what he had been thinking since he'd been dragooned into this job.
“You will get her back to herself entirely.”
“How, my lady? I'm not even sure I can teach her the Net again.”
Zara smiled. “Never fear on that score. You will have every resource the Technomancer can lend you, and all the aid you need from Zara Broine in the real. My brother must not know she is Net-capable again. Gemini must never suspect Kyla is herself once more. You have a dangerous job, o man, and any misstep will lose her to you forever.”
“Do you know where she is?” Sean suspected she wouldn't tell him, but he had to ask.
Zara nodded, her face cold marble as if she was trying not to be upset. “I do, but Gemini will tell you all that when the time is right. You are trapped between powerful men who covet your woman. If you want to keep her for yourself, you will do as I tell you.”
Sean's chin went up in defiance. “You're Gemini's woman, how is this not a trap?”
“He covets her, and I do not share well. I want my friend back to herself, not one of my brother's brainless toys, not in Gemini's bed. I want her with you. You will be well rewarded for this.”
“She's all I want. And it sure seems like you share well enough with my brother.” Sean covered his mouth, horrified that had slipped out. Niall was seeing Gemini, besotted with the man ever since Gemini had rescued him.
“The Timberwolf is not the Irishgirl. Niall is not Kyla, and he is no threat to where I stand in my man's heart. Go now. Make her Kyla again, not a slave but Irishgirl.”
Sean had the sense of rushing, of the sorceress and tower and everything flowing away from him. He slammed into his body, his eyes flying open and his head feeling as if Zara had split it open when she disconnected him.
Plots inside of plots. He liked Zara's plan a lot more than Gemini's. Sean rubbed his hands over his eyes and face, sat up and went to the bathroom for a painkiller.
The Obsidian Tower loomed up, three Net nodes away as Sean took a moment to steel himself. He gathered his red cloak about him, settled his Roman helmet more firmly on his head and made the transition to the base of the tower.
He stopped outside the blackthorn hedge, ignoring the skeletons that hung on it, the thorny vines twining in and around their their bones. “Mistress of the tower,” he called, “I come at your bidding.”
For a moment nothing happened. Sean waited, hoping that he wasn't about to get hit with intrusion countermeasures. It was really rude to use ice on an invited guest. But the big time, like the Technomancer, played by their own rules.
The blackthorn hedge parted before him and he walked toward the tower. A narrow bridge of obsidian spanned a lava-filled chasm, arching to a dizzying height. Sean strode along it as if it were a sidewalk. His body was safely on the couch at home, and nothing would harm him, except the Technomancer herself.
Caltrops rolled out of his way and he caught a glimpse of a woman's back attached to a snake's tail as the Medusa program, a vicious piece of watchdog ice, slithered around the curve of the tower. That one would turn his avatar to stone here in the Net and prevent him from jacking out. He would be immobile and aware as his body slowly starved to death back in meat-space.
The great portcullis did not rise, but a guy dressed in a seedy 1920's style suit opened a man-door beside it. A barely visible line of type identified him as Mark Grayson.
“Come on in. Herself is waiting for you.”
Sean followed Mark into the tower's outer courtyard. He tried not gasp when the place filled up with water. His body was fine, only his mind was in the middle of a sunken city's courtyard, being approached by a merman.
The merman sang and the words came to Sean through the water. “Come, she awaits you on the highest level and swimming is faster than stairs.” Sean looked down to find he had grown a fishy tale as had Mark.
Mark swam over and kissed the new arrival. “Warn our visitor before you do that. He held his breath for a second.”
The mermen swam up through the dim green waters of the courtyard, and Sean followed them. Changes of program in the Net were common enough, if a bit disquieting. He'd wander through more than one faux-Roman countryside only to find himself in mid-rock concert or a dimension of mobile shapes, or deep inside a dungeon. He watched how the men swam and imitated them, closing the gap.
They swam to the top of the tower, and in at a window. Sean was unsurprised to find himself standing on legs again in a wizard's workroom, his mer companions clothed in black tabards which bore the Technomancer's emerald insignia.
The Technomancer herself, Zara beht Ellanya the type said, looked up from a shallow bronze dish. “Caladus, owned by Gemini.” A thin smile crossed her narrow face. “Sean Patrick O'Neill, thief, occasional Net-runner, con-man, courier, and indentured servant of LedaCorp.”
Sean fumed to hear his life summarized so dismissively. “Wait a minute-”
She drew herself to her full height, towering half a foot over him, her long black hair blending with her long black dress. Her salt-pale arms almost shone against the black and raised a sense of inexplicable fear in him. A single gesture dismissed her two servants.
“Our time is brief. Let me explain what I want of you, without your interjections, little man. Gemini has approached you to acquire your wife, Kyla McLean, the Irishgirl.”
Sean nodded. Saying anything about that job seemed like a bad idea.
“The goal is to have you rework her until she can run the Net again, but you are to keep her as a sex-slave.” Zara's aristocratic nose wrinkled at this. “I know what uses my brother has put her to and the changes he has wrought in her. Kyla will not be able to be half a runner and half a slave.”
Sean nodded again. Zara was putting into words what he had been thinking since he'd been dragooned into this job.
“You will get her back to herself entirely.”
“How, my lady? I'm not even sure I can teach her the Net again.”
Zara smiled. “Never fear on that score. You will have every resource the Technomancer can lend you, and all the aid you need from Zara Broine in the real. My brother must not know she is Net-capable again. Gemini must never suspect Kyla is herself once more. You have a dangerous job, o man, and any misstep will lose her to you forever.”
“Do you know where she is?” Sean suspected she wouldn't tell him, but he had to ask.
Zara nodded, her face cold marble as if she was trying not to be upset. “I do, but Gemini will tell you all that when the time is right. You are trapped between powerful men who covet your woman. If you want to keep her for yourself, you will do as I tell you.”
Sean's chin went up in defiance. “You're Gemini's woman, how is this not a trap?”
“He covets her, and I do not share well. I want my friend back to herself, not one of my brother's brainless toys, not in Gemini's bed. I want her with you. You will be well rewarded for this.”
“She's all I want. And it sure seems like you share well enough with my brother.” Sean covered his mouth, horrified that had slipped out. Niall was seeing Gemini, besotted with the man ever since Gemini had rescued him.
“The Timberwolf is not the Irishgirl. Niall is not Kyla, and he is no threat to where I stand in my man's heart. Go now. Make her Kyla again, not a slave but Irishgirl.”
Sean had the sense of rushing, of the sorceress and tower and everything flowing away from him. He slammed into his body, his eyes flying open and his head feeling as if Zara had split it open when she disconnected him.
Plots inside of plots. He liked Zara's plan a lot more than Gemini's. Sean rubbed his hands over his eyes and face, sat up and went to the bathroom for a painkiller.
