#cairfrey writing

[cairfrey]

8.

Question's credited to wisteria-lodge and this post:

The answers are created by me for the main character of the sci-fi story I've stopped writing (🙄) I'm hoping it'll give me inspiration to keep going.

What is the character’s go-to drink order? (this one gets into how do they like to be publicly perceived, because there is always some level of theatricality to ordering drinks at a bar/resturant)

They don't drink alcohol anymore. When they were younger, they would drink pretty much anything put in front of them, and on special occasions they will have (maybe) one or two drinks, but otherwise they don't drink. If they go to a bar/restaurant with someone, they will always let them order first so that the person they're with can order what they want (alcoholic or otherwise) before they put in their soft drink order. Their go to soft drink order is "Kon-ban-wah" which is an artificially produced pineapple soda.

What is their grooming routine? (how do they treat themselves in private)

Their grooming routine is so lax as to be almost non-existent. Haircare is their priority as they figure you can get away with a lot so long as the most noticeable part of you (I.e. your hair) as clean and tidy. But even that is more making sure it's neat than actual "grooming".

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? (Gets you thinking about socio-economic class, values, and how they spend their leisure time)

Their cybernetics were fairly pricy. They own them outright, except the skillplug jack ("A discreet head-mounted plug port allows use of an intellectual skillplug for a skill requiring minimal physical ability, up to level-1. Once slotted, a skillplug takes fifteen minutes to boot up and integrate properly." - Cities Without Number, p. 73) they are 25 months into a 36-month contract that forces a 2-minute unskippable ad played directly onto their eyes (also cybernetic) every time they use it. Consequently, they try to avoid using it.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? (good way to get into literal backstory)

There's a long scar down the back of their head, the consequence of an errant wire snapping. It cut the skin right up but left no lasting damage. Their hair is long to cover it.

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? (Good way to get some *emotional* backstory in.)

This is a tricky one. They don't cry often. Not because they're bottling feelings up etc. They just...don't. But at the same time, they do cry at emotional films and other well-written media. So the last time would have been when watching something particularly stirring as opposed to being under emotional distress.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? (This one might be a me thing, because I LOVE writing/reading about family dynamics, but knowing what kinds of things were ‘normal’ for them growing up is important.)

Oldest child by over a decade. Sibling is the favourite. Not antagonistic towards them, but they don't really talk. They live on opposite sides of the station, not out of animosity, that's just where they happen to be right now.

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. (This is a big catch all, gets into money, taste, practicality, level of wear, level of repair, literally what kind of shoes they require to live their life.)

Their shoes are stylish, but more importantly comfortable. Their mother always said to spend money on their shoes and beds because if you're not using one you're using the other. They're brown boots that provide proper arch support. They're pretty hard on their shoes so this pair is pretty worn thin.

Describe the place where they sleep. (ie what does their safe space look like. How much (or how little) care / decoration / personal touch goes into it.)

Quinn's bunk is very untidy (in contrast to Calliope's) the bed is almost never made and there's usually pyjamas bundled up within the covers. There are a few pictures plastered along the walls, mainly pictures of nice views or fanart that they've printed themselves and hastily stuck to the walls of her bunk.

What is their favorite holiday? (How do they relate to their culture/outside world. Also fun is least favorite holiday.)

They're a big fan of the 'people's' holidays. Things like Labour Day, that were won in protests for workers' rights. These protests were a long time ago (because of the way the guilds operate, most of the workers have decent rights) but they're still more appreciative of them than "Founder's Day".

What objects do they always carry around with them? (What do they need for their normal, day-to-day routine? What does ‘normal’ even look like for them.)

Along with their cybernetics (that they can't help but take with them) they always have their watch (which stores a tiny PC and uses their eyes as an output display) and their notebook. The notebook is an input for the watch. It looks like an actual notebook (with paper pages etc) but it stores everything written in it digitally, and blank pages in it can be used to display things from the watch.

Their name's Quinn Taylor FYI. But that's a name I regularly use in works in progress so absolutely subject to change.

[cairfrey]

So, I've got a few posts that are tagged "the story I'm meant to be working on". As a writer with ADHD, I constantly have at least 10 of these at any one go (slight exagguration, but you get the point) and they all get left half done.

I completed Nanowrimo back in 2012, and that was the last time I actually finished a story without getting distracted by something else or bored with it.

I don't want to do that with this one.

So I'm just going to start braindumping everything about this story into my Tumblr...for reasons that make sense to me.

So...I guess to start with, it's a sci-fi story in that it's set in a far distant future where humans (at least the humans in this story...probably not all humans everywhere) live on a spherical space station at the edge of "known space". It might be the edge of a solar system, or of a galaxy, but whatever it is, they're on the edge and it's just blackness on the outside.

That's the setting, but the main character is a person in their 30s who has no idea what they're doing with their life (they say write what you know) and is really just trying to keep their head above water as they join "The Educators' Guild" in order to have that as a safety net to their life.

But as for the story, some guy who has been touched by an eldritch being has arrived on the station and starts committing murders in order to take the station over the edge and into the black where (they are convinced) their master awaits them. The validity of this eldritch God is left in the air.

One of the underlying themes is that there is no (or very little) difference between science and magic. We see people use cybernetics and tech for various means throughout the story, and the bad guy uses magic to achieve the same means. For example, there are cybernetics that can scramble your face (not widely available, but they do exist) our bad guy has a "library of faces" that shift and move as needed and are comprised of people they have sacrificed on their way here. Same same, but different.

I'm taking a fair bit of inspiration from Terry Pratchett's Discworld series, especially with how the station exists/is run. The reason behind this is two fold.

One: The man was a genius. I don't feel there's much more to add to this point, except to say that I will fight anyone who disagrees.

Two: The idea of the guilds basically controlling the city of Ankh-Morpork (and consequently my space station) makes the idea of the society fairly fluid. I.e. If a rule is established earlier on but someone breaks it and suffers no/different repercussions, then it can be put down to the difference in the jurisdiction to the guild/community laws as opposed to a failure on the part of the writer who might not be paying that close attention.

I'll definitely have more ideas to add to this story as things go on, but as things go, this is where I'm at. I have the vague outline of a story (or rather the world the story is set in and a few characters) but nothing more.

Stick with me as I (hopefully) continue with this story and make it something worth reading.

[cairfrey]

Most people went into a guild and either through determination or depression stayed there for their entire lives. A smaller group would bounce around different guilds until they found one that fit for them. Those who never found a place where they belonged, were considered "The Unguilded". Though they were few and far between, even The Chosen was technically a member of the Civil Servants' Guild, regardless of their previous affiliations. It didn't stop The Unguilded from being a big talking point for vying politicians.

Some guilds were naturally more popular than others, but every branch of employment was covered by a guild in some way. The Engineers' Guild provided the maintenance for the station, from mechanical to technical. The Chefs' Guild managed bartenders to somaliers, fast food to banquet halls. The Entertainers' Guild covers actors to musicians, gamblers to prostitutes. And usually in that order. With all that option, people usually got into their guild of choice, of not their branch.

Quinn Taylor is currently studying for their Educators' Guild membership. A long course of lectures, assignments, portfolios, teaching, and stress that would eventually culminate in a safety net membership.

No matter what happened, once getting into The Educators' Guild you could always rely on it to support you. Hell, it was only four months in and Quinn hadn't had to pay for any accommodation in that time thanks to the Guild.

That had been part of the draw of the Guild, free room and board. Quinn could go through any amount of lectures and training if it meant they could reduce the bills they pay. It was only when they were moving in that they realised it was a shared room with two bunks. Even if they hadn't already quit the lease on their old place, and didn't have any other option, they still would have stayed. Landlords could be difficult.

Quinn's roommate, Calliope, had turned out to be a blessing though. She had even helped Quinn get their sofa, which was much too large for their dorm, wedged into a somewhat usable spot. The selling point for Calliope had been when Quinn (reluctantly) agreed that they could use a chainsaw to get it out when they'd both been accepted into the guild proper. Quinn had agreed after realising that, as much as they loved that sofa, the realities of getting it out of the dorm meant that a chainsaw was going to be the best option.

Now, taking advantage of their time together, Quinn was stretched out along the three seats of the sofa, reading an academic journal on pedagogies. Quinn had reread the same line three times already, but now the text had changed to read, "You're a lazy idiot who's wasting everyone's time. Go back to Customer Service, moron." They rubbed their eyes. Once again, the sentence read "However, this case study enactments of this chapter also demonstrates how..."

Quinn threw the book against the bunks on the spinward wall, breaking Calliope's studious silence and accompanying the clatter with a loud scream from the pit of their stomach, "Graaaaaaaah, I don't care! I don't care. I don't care. I. Do. Not. Care!"

[cairfrey]

As a home, Arturus was pretty good. Lights mounted on The Hub, the central pillar that the domes of Fletcher and White settled on, maintained a day-night cycle for those living on the rim or working on one of the sixteen spokes that branched out from the hub and connected to the rim.

The spokes were marvels of engineering. Sixteen cylindrical pillars that helped the rim turn with The Hub also provided the station's green areas. Parts of the spokes were utilised for crop growth, arboretums, play parks, sports fields, lakes, and a whole host of healthy *outdoor* pursuits.

The rest of the district that surrounded any of the spokes is made of sleek white buildings that turn an eye-easy orange during the night cycle. Neon LEDs trace the outlines of the buildings and utilise different colours to represent anything from occupancy, to opening hours, to personal preference. The Home Owners Associations of some neighbourhoods could get unbearable when it came to these lights.

Arturus runs smoothly through a series of districts and guilds. The districts governed the people. Making sure that they paid their taxes and sending the police when they don't. The guilds govern employment, which gave the people the funds they needed to pay their taxes in exchange for a series of favours that they called "labour".

The heads of the districts, elected by those in their constituencies, and the heads of the guilds, chosen by any number of methods decided upon by each self-governed guild, comprise The Council and report to The Chosen 49th who is the deciding vote on all matters and answers directly to the people.

"The Chosen 49th" is an archaic reference to the earliest days of Arturus when The Council was limited to 48 seats. The Chosen 49th was an individual selected to be the deciding vote.

[cairfrey]

It starts as it always does, on the outside of Deep Space Station #5978, or Arturus as its called everywhere except for dull bureaucratic forms.

From a distance, Arturus could be confused for a small planet or asteroid, the perfectly spherical station doesn't give any signs of manufacture until you get close enough to see "The Gaps". Three kilometer wide trenches run around the sphere, dividing it into four layers, each named for one of the founders of the station; Fletcher, Lister, Sharp, and White. The layers rotate at perfectly determined speeds to maintain the gravity for those who lived on the inside.

As you draw closer to the station, you'd be lucky to catch a glimpse of one of the few ships docked on the station's rim. The research done on the station had once been out in "The Black" but now it was almost entirely constrained to labs. And this far from any other stations, they didn't receive many visitors. So, aside from the occasional travelling Merchant coming in, or a necessary scientific survey going out, the hectares of ship yards on the rim were massively underused.

If you were close enough to the station at the start of our story, you'd be able to see the SSS Essess drifting toward Arturus. No thrust. No comms. Just drifting toward them. In eight hours, the station's security teams will have the ship towed into an isolated docking bay and surrounded by security.

They would do it without notifying the 2 million civilians that called Arturus home.

[cairfrey]

Of all the video game features I wish we had in real life (stat points, an unlimited inventory, skills, etc) the one I wish I had the most is 'photo mode'.

Tha way, when I'm cuddling with my cat and it's all cute and stuff, I can take a photo that doesn't come attached with my outstretched arm in the corner and doesn't disturb the goober from his cuteness.

[cairfrey]

6.

Here we go. Only a 4-day week this week because I've got an assignment to write that I'm spending the weekend doing. Honestly, I'd rather be teaching. I hate academic writing.