spn_reversebang | Artist & Writer Check-In!

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Artist & Writer Check-In!

[Poll #1787626]

Reminders: Rough Drafts are due Nov. 1. (Nov. 5 for our pinch-hitters.) Your rough drafts should be 3000+ words with a beginning, middle and end and a description of any missing scenes. We know some of you are ready to submit now. Give us a couple-few days to post the draft submission guidelines, thanks.

Pinch-hitter sign-ups will remain open until the challenge ends. You can find more information on the sign-up sheet. If you need to drop out and have a pinch-hitter reassigned to your prompt, tell us sooner rather than later.

Non-Reminders: Feel free to cheerlead and chat and post snippets or whatever else in the comments here. Have fun and be nice!

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I submitted the poll twice, once for each prompt. Hope they both went through!

So far this is one of my favorite fics ever! It's been a blast to write and working with quickreaver makes me grin non-stop. Wheee!

Not sure how to submit the poll twice so just saying I'm the artist for both 1034 and 1065 and both my authors totally rock, the posting dates work dandy - plotting additional art now - and things are awesome.

No, that doesn't work. It just edits your answer. I'm sorry I didn't adequately consider that people might need to answer differently for question 2 between each prompt. Feel free to expand in the comments here or send us a PM, if you have something you want to discuss.

*does ridiculous dance* I am excited! I am excited! I am...nuts apparently. :D I was thrilled to get my first choice (though it was SO hard for me to choose!). The artist is absolutely fabulous and wonderful to work with!

I've got a little snippet of what I've got so far, and I'll be happy to post it. Why? Because I'm excited! *coughs* *begs* Someone stop me, for the love of God!

So, my prompt is 1013 and it's a military theme. Here's my snippet:

Dean saw the tiny drop in Sam's arm and pressed his advantage. Sam, desperate, began to fight in earnest. A few minutes later, Dean held Sam pressed against a fence, Sam's hand that was holding the knife tight in Dean's grip and Dean's revolver pressed to the soft flesh underneath Sam's chin.

Sam spat blood and sweat on the ground and gave. Dean cackled like a maniac. "Damn, right, Sammy, that's what I mean! F**k, yeah." Throwing his arm around Sam, he continued. "Damn, you almost had me three or four times there, bro. You're getting better."

Sam just smiled and patted Dean on the back. "I'll get there, dammit."

Dean laughed. They were unaware of the complete silence surrounding them until Sergeant Jack approached them, bellowing. "Well, aren't you just a lovely set of serial killers in training. Thank God you're in my marine corp, gentleman. I can't wait to hand you some heavy artillery. Let's step into my office so we can have a little talk about those weapons, shall we? The rest of you - as you were."

I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with! Yay!

I am having so much fun with this!

He made sure he wasn’t quite close enough to touch, but definitely close enough to look. The man was unconscious, his clothing torn and ragged in places, but he was still alive though Jensen knew he wouldn’t be for much longer. What fascinated him, though, were the wings. He’d never seen anything like them. Even clearly damaged from the fall and matted from the water they were a beautiful array of colours ranging from red to gold to yellow.

I really like this snippet! ^^

Same answers for both prompts, E 3004 and 1072. Everything is going fine. :-)

Oh, interesting! :D

I have spoken to my artist and checked the posting date, but haven't spoken to my artist about the posting date. I just ticked the boxes anyway, 'cause I wasn't sure that was specifically what you meant.

I'll be honest, when I signed up I didn't check the required length and just assumed it was like a Big Bang, needing 10 or 20 thousand words XD So I'm over 10k in and have no idea when I can stop and I'm a little frightened by the looming deadline.

Anyway, a snippet:

Eventually Dean was as clean as he was going to get. He used a blood-stained towel to wipe down the steamy mirror and examined his reflection. He was paler than he remembered – he’d have to take time-out in the sun at some point. He looked carefully into his own eyes, despite knowing full-well that if he had been possessed he wouldn’t be in a position to check the colour of his eyes. The skin beneath them was dark and hollowed with shadows from lack of sleep. His fingers traced down his left cheek and jaw to the small metal socket in his neck, hesitating a second over the red scar around it. He rubbed the socket with his fingertips. Everything seemed to be in place.

Hey, another author chiming in here. You claimed their art piece already, right? So you'll have that piece of art that they submitted already, whether they get in touch with you again or not.

For 1008, I've been in recent contact with Belladonnanoir and she's checking that posting date works for her (I'm good for all of November).

For 1044, I haven't recently heard from Moonofblindness, but we chatted at the start and were both excited. My faulty computer may be at fault for missing any communication there.

Me and my artist haven't spoken much, really. I asked her if she was okay with what I'd planned and she said it was fine and I've just been sending her the fic as I go. I haven't been given the impression she's planning any more art for the story, but the original piece is lovely, so it's not a problem :)

Thanks! I just hope I can get the damn thing finished...

*whips plot to try and make it move faster*

I'm exactly 5,018 words in and have two or three more scenes to go. My goal is to have this finished by Thursday at the latest so I can track down a beta. I like the story so far, but I'm not sure if it'll interest anyone but me.

The art pinkelephant42 made is so lovely, and I want to do the artwork justice! I'm still waiting to see if the posting date works for my artist.

A snippet:

[i]“So my world is like a chalkboard that I can erase and draw something new on?”

Castiel blinked before a minuscule smile touched his lips. “That is correct.”

Dean looked around the room for a min fridge that was hopefully stocked with beer. There was, unfortunately, no refrigerator to be found. He turned back to Castiel, ready to ask the angel where he could buy some beer, but the words died on his lips.

The angel was so close to Dean, his eyes were nearly crossing just to keep him in focus. Castiel's eyes were focused on Dean so intently, the hunter could almost feel the weight of the angel's gaze. Dean's eyes drifted to Cas's lips against his will, and his stomach clenched with want so suddenly, just from looking at Cas's lips and thinking of pressing his own against them, that it made his head spin.[/i]

Snippet for piece 1033 (Merman!Sam):

Poseidon didn’t begrudge the new god or his pet angels. In fact, he rather respected their effective marketing campaign. While Zeus had believed in ruling mostly by fear, this new God homed in on the basic human need for love, reassurance, and acceptance. It was simple, and therefore, ingenious. Elohim gained new worshippers every second of every day, while Poseidon and family were eventually forgotten.

Rather than beat them, Poseidon decided to join them. In a sense. Not long after Zeus’ demise, he sent Elohim a nicely worded welcome letter, along with a few pieces of advice, and some amusing anecdotes about being a god that he’d collected over his lifetime.

The result of Poseidon’s letter was… nothing.

Nothing happened to Poseidon’s kingdom. It didn't topple or crumble, and Poseidon didn’t find himself on the business end of any of that smiting business that the Christians seemed to enjoy so much. Nothing was good. Nothing was fantastic.

Nothing was exactly what Poseidon had hoped for.

I'm hoping to finish a first draft in the next few days (I promised

tiggeratl1 something to look at!) but until then I hope she doesn't mind me sharing a teensy snippet from what I have typed up . . .

“What are you doing here, Cas?”

“You have not been hunting,” Castiel answered.

Sam sighed. “Look, you and Dean and Bobby can handle it, okay?” The people closest to you die. “I'm a liability. It's better for everyone if I just stay out of it.”

Castiel's expression didn't change (unsurprisingly) but he took a step closer to Sam and Sam – startled – backed up. Dean was right about the personal space thing.

“You must rejoin the fight to stop the apocalypse, Sam.” Castiel was close enough to Sam that he had to look up slightly as he spoke. “We will try our best without you, but we will fail. You are our best hope.”

Shocked, Sam tried to retreat further and his back hit the door. Castiel moved with him.

“What? Why?”

Oh, cool. I like the snippet and the military theme as well.

This is going to me my first ever fic challenge thing. \o/ I am very excited for this! Just about done with my fic, only got last round of edits and beta-ing to do (once school doesn't kick my ass like it has been these last two weeks). Prompt's 1072, and here's my snippet:

“Uh,” Dean starts, blinking again as he makes himself step back to look properly at the man standing before him. He’s not very tall—he’s shorter than Dean himself is, actually—with mussed up hair and most of his body covered with a trenchcoat (who the heck wears a trenchcoat in the office?) but yet there was just something about this guy that stirred up a strange feeling of déjà vu within him. “Do I know you?”

The man—Castiel, Dean guesses—only stares back at him with his impossibly blue eyes for a moment that goes on too long, and Dean wonders if he said something wrong and is about to ask if he has when Mr. Adler appears and breaks the moment. “Ah, Mr. Smith! I was wondering when you’d come up.”

Dean quickly jerks his head away from the weird guy and looks at Mr. Adler, a smile quickly in place across his face. “Sorry, Mr. Adler. I got held up.”

“No worries, Mr. Smith,” the older man quickly returns, smiling himself as he throws an arm around Dean and starts to lead him into the office. Dean only barely registers the fact that the weird trenchcoat-wearing guy is gone before he lets himself be led into Mr. Adler’s office.

I'm having so much fun with this! And though I'm a little behind in my writing (RL freaking sucks sometimes) I'm so excited to finish, it's unbelievable.
*

Jared always knew that when he died, he’d die a hero’s death. Like from rescuing orphans from a burning building, or a kitten from a tree or some other shit that people would say “oh that Jared Padalecki guy? Yeah, he’s a hero”. It’s not self-absorbed, not really, because who wouldn’t want their death to have meant something? And besides, Jared’s always doing altruistic things- he volunteers at two different homeless shelters after work on four different nights, plus Saturdays, and he donates regularly to just about every charity that calls, and he always helps Mrs Crumbel hobble across the street to the grocery store whenever he sees her. Jared kind of figured, with all the good he does daily, his parting would be a great big thank you, and you shall forever be remembered from Karma. Or, he’d die in his sleep two days before his hundredth birthday, having said his goodbyes to his children, grandchildren, and hopefully great-grandchildren. That would have been nice.

Jared’s untimely death, when it does come, isn’t heroic at all. It doesn’t happen from saving orphans, or kittens, or hell, taking a hit from a truck running a red light that would have hit Mrs Crumbel if Jared hadn’t pushed her out of the way. No, Jared’s death is not heroic.

It is, however, somewhat eventful.

And it will probably be remembered, come to think of it.

No. You need to post a completed story for this challenge.

So I think I may have been a dork an hit 'artist' accidentally. I'm an author though, and I couldn't figure out how to re-take the poll so I could fix it. Just wanted to let you guys know!

Also, snippet:

"What, then?" Deep breathes made his lungs hurt, but Sam took them anyway, warily watching his brother's face as it closed to him. "What has to stop, Dean?"

"These." Reaching over his head, Dean snatched the salt round and held it in his brother's face, murder in his eyes. "You can't keep using these rounds on me, Sam. Use my damned Colt if you have to; just start shooting at me with real fucking bullets!"

Something cold settled in his gut, and Sam jerked, shoving away hard in outraged offense even as his voice reflected nothing but calm. "Just because you have a need to see me dead doesn't mean I want that for you. I'd rather you live and hate me then kill you so you'll love me."

"Damn it, Sam, this isn't--"

"That's exactly what this is." Flinching when he was touched, Sam stood from the bed, wanting, needing to get away. "And if it's you feeling guilty, well, too bad. This is my road, and this is my choice. I choose not to try to kill you."

Thank you so much! I loved your artwork! I can't wait to see what your author comes up with!

Still trucking along and having a blast doing it! *hearts on

inkruns* Steampunk, anyone?

--

Eventually Jensen sighed and stirred, water sluicing down his arms as he sat up to reach for the washcloth draped over the side of the tub. He leaned forward and Jared's breath caught abruptly, brain falling into stunned silence at the sight of something entirely unexpected on Jensen's back.

Wings. Or, the shape of wings, etched in inky blue-black from Jensen's collarbone to his waist. The lines were long and elegant, tracing in wide, arching swaths that tapered into delicate tips with the precision of the most elegantly fashioned clockwork. A vague memory of seeing dark bruises on Jensen's back that first day wormed its way to the front of his mind and Jared wondered if this was part of the reason why Jensen had never let him help change his bandages.

The way you've set this up is awesome. Intriguing and so well paced!

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