A Book of Tongues: THUD

Words added: Roughly 1,000, though at least some of that was me modifying boilerplate from yesterday. I'm hovering on the lip of a new section, which is good; getting through it will mean that I have to paraphrase some Dine legends without fucking them up too badly, though, which will probably be a bit dicey: Let me show you how the world works, grandson. In other true tales of dubious research methodology, I spent some time...the day before yesterday?...rewatching relevant sections of Apocalypto, in order to get myself into Ixchel's mindset, since she and "Grandma" are compare/contrast incarnate.

Like a machine, Rook thinks, looking through her eyes; men as parts, blood as oil. Cogs and wheels. To which she replies: Show me this...machine. Then adds, after a moment--

Ah. Yes.

Very like that, yes.

And that's the world she wants to rebuild--the Mayan-Aztec Death Factory. Because that's the way it's supposed to go. And he's going to help her get it, because then he doesn't so much get what HE wants as--not lose what he already has. Not for a while, anyways.

Yeah. Pretty good; better than I thought I was doing, at least. And now, I need food.;)

(Wordcount overall, just for reference: 78,392. Which means that by the end of Chapter Eleven, we'll probably be up over 80,000.)