Where am I? Who are you?

Welcome to Eighth Angel Studios. We're going to write a novel.

This is a collaborative project- contributors (like you) provide characters who are woven into the story as it progresses. But your involvement doesn't end there- as the story progresses you can give feedback on your character, developing them further, influencing their decisions and guiding their actions. The more feedback you provide, the more development your character can receive.

If you want to join in, please follow this blog and comment on this post with a thirty-second description of your character- a name and enough to describe a first meeting. That'll get the ball rolling.

Anyway, enough rambling- on to the plot!

Friday, 10 December 2010

[LNC] Connections

Carter and Youla boarded the train with minutes to spare. This early, the trains heading out of the city were largely empty; Only a couple of errant youngsters, dozing while plugged into their musical life support, shared their carriage. The pair picked a table and sat opposite each other, go-bags taking the extra seats.

As the train pulled out of the city, cutting and covering through ancient thoroughfares, Carter rested his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, the black sky was beginning to be tinged Prussian blue.

Youla sat opposite, still and almost serene, eyes closed. As Carter looked at him, his eyes opened, looking back. "You snore." He said simply.

Carter had to smile. "I'm Claydon. Gabriel, wasn't it?"

"Yes. Gabriel Youla." He nodded in lieu of a handshake.

"So, where are you from, Gabriel?"

"Brixton. Before that, Sierra Leone."

"Ah. I was there briefly, a few years ago. Interesting times."

"That is not the word I would use. I like Brixton. It is nice to be able to sleep well."

"So, what brought you to England?"

"There was nothing left in Sierra Leone but gunpowder and blood. I was given the opportunity to leave as payment for a job. My sister and I came to England. She is studying to be a doctor."

"A noble calling. What do you do, when you're not catching trains to the middle of nowhere?"

"I work in the docks. It is simple work, but safe and it pays well enough. My sister wants to study at Cambridge in a few years, I must save for her to afford it."

Carter nodded appreciatively. "There's not many people who'd go that far even for family these days."

"There is not, but there should be. But what of you, Mister Carter?"

"Me? Well, I used to work for the Government, mostly abroad. It used to feel like it meant something, but after my grandfather died, well, I felt like the part of me that had enjoyed the work went with him. I worked for myself for a while, then this came along, and they offered me what I missed."

"And what was that?"

"Revealed secrets. I missed knowing the truth behind the lies everyone got told, and they promised to give that back to me. What about you? What did they offer you?"

"Mostly it was the money. But in Africa I did things I would rather forget. I cannot forget them, but I hope I might be able to balance them out."

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