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...And then they made me their chief.
Here, have another snip of what's rapidly becoming The Great Torchwood Year-That-Wasn't Crackfic of Lengthliness (AKA Tosh Is Awesome And Has Sex With Everyone [Except Jack, That Bastard]):
If I post and email everyone about it, then I'm actually THINKING about it, therefore I'm more likely to write it, see?
Last night I decided that it should be in past tense, therefore I should try and convert the entire thing to past tense, instead of being all over the place like it was. After changing a couple thousand words, I FORGOT WHAT PAST TENSE WAS. I was changing words and I had no idea if I was meant to. My brain, WHAT.
Now I don't know if I want to have it in past tense after all. The first bit was, but then once I got into it I'd slipped into present tense again. *hands*
Also, it's growing so quickly because I keep getting ideas for scenes so I just tack them onto the end of the document to deal with later. Meanwhile, the planned progression for the plot is waiting further up the document for me to continue with it. The document now has over6600 8000 (WOT) words in it, altogether. Eep!
Also, I want to share the best bits, like Tosh making Ianto cry by trying to throttle him in a fit of rage, but I don't want to spoil them. *heavy sigh*
My life, so hard.
The process to enable the emergency access protocols first involves smacking the correct corner of Jack's desk blotter so the entire can rotate into the desk to flip up, from rude biro doodles to a flat screen display with flashing cursor. Tosh smirks at the Bond-ness of it all, imagining--not for the first time, though boredom gives one's mind a certain degree more liberty--that that would make her M.
An M in rolled-up grey sweatpants, specs and a scrunchy, but still--she runs her hands along the edge of the desk, then taps in the access code when it abruptly comes to her. She could get used to this.
Enabling the emergency access protocols is something she probably should have done back in the early days, but they hadn't really needed to until now. The protocols were in place to ensure the survival of any Torchwood employees sheltering in the Hub, but weren't set up to automatically activate in case of lockdown. The purpose of lockdown being, of course, not only to keep potential threats to Torchwood out but to keep potential threats to Cardiff in. Despite the fact that Owen's growing pile of chewed-off toenail clippings might consitute the latter, Tosh only feels brief misgivings before confirming the protocol's activation.
The screen flickers momentarily then is suddenly shining too brightly up into her face as the rest of the Hub's lights shut off. Just for an instant; then they stumble back into a dimmer lighting scheme at the same time the ventilation fans audibly spin back up again from their brief pause. Tosh didn't even know they had the light globes for this; the Hub is bathed in a dull, almost pornographic red glow, only a couple of points still lit up properly by their own comfort lighting--desk lamp in Jack's office, the reading lamp by the couch.
The PA crackles in the corner of the room. "Emergency protocols activated," Jack's voice echoes out through the all the speakers in the Hub, low and sultry. "Oh, yeah."
Tosh rushes out of the office to stand on its ridiculous little porch, looking out over the rest of the Hub. "Sorry," she calls out, glancing about apologetically. Ianto's standing by the rift pool with eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, body tense like it's almost about to go into a crouch, and Gwen's standing in front of the couch clutching her book to her chest. "Sorry," Tosh says again. "Still, better than a siren, wasn't it?"
Owen's voice wafts up from the autopsy bay. "Has that bloody mirror ball come down again?"
If I post and email everyone about it, then I'm actually THINKING about it, therefore I'm more likely to write it, see?
Last night I decided that it should be in past tense, therefore I should try and convert the entire thing to past tense, instead of being all over the place like it was. After changing a couple thousand words, I FORGOT WHAT PAST TENSE WAS. I was changing words and I had no idea if I was meant to. My brain, WHAT.
Now I don't know if I want to have it in past tense after all. The first bit was, but then once I got into it I'd slipped into present tense again. *hands*
Also, it's growing so quickly because I keep getting ideas for scenes so I just tack them onto the end of the document to deal with later. Meanwhile, the planned progression for the plot is waiting further up the document for me to continue with it. The document now has over
Also, I want to share the best bits, like Tosh making Ianto cry by trying to throttle him in a fit of rage, but I don't want to spoil them. *heavy sigh*
My life, so hard.
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And at least you have a plot! I have a DW story I can't write at all, because all I have is a string of vague subplots, and a strong of vague subplots does not a story make. :(
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