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Genre: Science Fiction
About OmnipresenceLocation: Seattle, Washington, US Home Region: Age:22 Favorite writers: Gore Vidal, Vladimir Nabokov, Bret Easton Ellis Favorite music: IOSYS, Interpol, Pendulum, Ludo, Rihanna (what? D:) Non-noveling interests: Drawing, manga, violin, snowboarding, motorcycles, video games, anime |
Joined: Oktober 15, 2002 This Year: Official Participant NaNoWriMo History: NaNoWriMo posts: 0 NaNoWriMo buddies: 2
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Brief Author Bio: In it to win it. |
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Synopsis: Untitled
Yevgeni is a sound-sight synaestheian... for lack of a better descriptor. Rob Thorpe is an executive talent manager for a large corporation that produces new music targeted at the mainstream market. Thorpe has hired Yevgeni to evaluate some of the new acts he's preparing to launch, but before they can meet in Osaka, something happens that alters the entire storyline and makes the plot interesting. (Seat of my pants, as usual. No better way to write these novels.)
OR
Yev translates sound messages using his synaesthesia? I don't know, this was something I thought of two days ago.
WHILE
Someone's sending him messages encoded inside the music he's being paid to listen to, feeding him information and trying to get in contact with him. But that doesn't make any sense, how could someone who can't readily find him know how to send him hidden synaesthetic notes inside music?
Coheeeeesioooonnnn aaaaggghhhh. The plot got convoluted in ways I can't put into words, it's just a string of sensations right now. I'll get back to this in a few days.
Excerpt: Untitled
“What do you want from me?”
“Just your handsome self will be fine, we’re not after anything besides you.”
“But I don’t have anything anyone would want.”
“That very well might not be true, actually, but that also has nothing to do with why, or even with why you. It’s nothing personal, trust us.”
He was lying, this didn’t make any sense otherwise. People aren’t hunted down, chased through the streets, stalked, threatened and then called incessantly who don’t have anything to offer the person who wants to get to them. Yev tried to come at it from another angle.
“And if I were to give myself up freely?”
“That would be far more than we would ever ask for, and a truly gentlemanly move on your behalf. Quite selfless, in fact.”
“Would you leave Devon and Cho and everyone else alone then?”
“Oh, definitely, this doesn’t involve them and the only reason we were forced to involve them was, truthfully, because you were giving us a difficult time of retrieving you.”
“So I give myself up, you let Cho go and stop having Devon followed?” Yev paused in his slowly walking circles around what little floor space there was and looked around the hotel room for something he could lower himself out the window with.
“Exactly. You’re the beginning and the end of our target objective.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad.” There were always the bedsheets, but that always seemed so impractical in all of the movies and cartoons he’d seen it done it, like they’d tear or take too long to knot together in order for it to be a workable solution to his need to leave the hotel room without opening the front door. He shouldered the cell phone against his ear and pulled on a section of fabric to test its strength. “So then I’d go with you and then what.” He looked at the time on the cell phone face, noting that so much time had passed they might as well know his location in the hotel room down to the nearest carpet fiber.
“What do you mean, and then what? That’s all there is to it. You come with us and accept your fate.”
Yev, hearing the word fate, laughed in disbelief so hard he almost had tears in his eyes. Had they really said that? Fate? Accept his fate?
