I woke up about five AM with The Musical Box running on repeat in my head for some reason. This is not entirely impossible, because it happens quite often. Not with this song, but many a morning I’ve opened my eyes to a new kind of way . . . sorry, just had to do that. I’d much rather open my eyes to someone running their fingers over my arm, but you take what you’re given, and sometimes I’m given what I can handle. Maybe the arm touching comes later.
Last night I wrote two scenes and started another, and one of the scenes is probably the shortest I’ve written for this novel–just under four hundred words. Mostly what’s happening is Vicky and Annie are looking for my fast and furious duo, and neither are all that happy about having to hunt these two down. This is all happening for our ladies back in the Sunrise Bends, while we know Kerry and Emma are way beyond that area, because . . . well, they’re racing, that’s why, and since we’ve already said they’re zipping along at over a hundred miles an hour in one stretch, they’ll outdistance the others in no time.
Lets take a look:
Northwest Passage–which Kerry and Emma are approaching–is the closest turn to the bottom of the above picture. Sunrise Bends is just off to the upper left of that blue lake-like thing, and that’s pretty much where Vicky and Annie are flying. This means that K & E aren’t just setting their own pace, they’re burning up the track, and two women a mile away have pretty much figured out that they’re racing–
How do I know they’re a mile away? I use my own rulers in Blender to figure out distances. This is how I do it:
This is how I do it. If you look at the tab on the left, you’ll see something labeled “Dimensions:” and right below that “X:” with the number 165m alongside. When I set things up I did a little scaling, so that number really means 1,650 meters, or 1.65 kilometers. And as we already know from Kerry, if 165 kilometers an hour is really 100 miles an hour, then 1.65 kilometers is a mile. From Sunrise Bends to Northwest Passage is right about a mile away as the pissed-off instructor and fuming girlfriend fly.
And with the broom they have, they can fly pretty fast.
I just realized, I should probably draw a Quidditch field inside the school, just to give people a little sense of a scale. After all, we do know those dimensions, and when we’re talking about flying a hundred miles an hour–or even faster in the upcoming scenes–it’d give people a sense of just how fast things move around this joint.
Now, what’s Vicky doing?
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
She thought about speeding through The Narrows and the Essess and hoping she’s catch up to the students as they were approaching Polar Turn. But I’m not going to find them there . . . She suspected that they were somewhere else now, too caught up in where they were doing to pay attention to comm chatter. She wasn’t going to find them sticking to the Green Line—
Vicky pulled hard on her broom and shot a hundred meters into the sky.
She was already facing towards the northwest corner of the school wall, which meant she was facing Northwest Passage, where the Green Line stopped paralleling the north wall and turned to the south. If there was anywhere they could be, Vicky figured they’d either be approaching Northwest Passage, or in it. And if they were in it, they’d likely be going slow enough that she could get them to stop.
She leaned forward, preparing to open up her Espinoza 6000. She gunned it forward, reaching three hundred kilometers an hour just in time to start slowing as she neared the Observatory. But she wasn’t just slowing because she wanted to come to a hover over Northwest Passage: no, she caught something out of the corner if her eye—
Two things, actually, moving at high speed down the West End straight.
Vicky jerked her broom to a quick stop and turned so she could get a better view. Yes, there wasn’t any doubt—and she couldn’t believe that she was seeing this. What the hell are they doing?
She pointed her broom in the direction of the speeding students and headed after them.
Well, Vicky, I think we can tell you what they’re doing. The question is: what are you going to do?
Meanwhile, back with the female side of Team Soul Mate:
By the time she reached the main curve of Sunrise Bends Professor Salomon wasn’t anywhere in sight. Annie was worried, because if she wasn’t visible, that meant Kerry wasn’t visible—which meant he was still flying with Emma—
That girl. Annie was quickly developing a bad feeling about Emma. Not a dislike, but an intense feeling that she was doing something right now that was going to get Kerry in trouble. Or worse, hurt. And if Kerry got hurt, she wouldn’t be happy.
Though right now she didn’t know who was going to make her the most unhappy.
This isn’t looking good for Kerry, who’s liable to face the Wrath of Kirilova. And there’s that girl again. Good thing these kids are too young to remember 1960’s television.
Only one thing left to do . . .
Annie was half way through the bend when she decided she wasn’t going to find Kerry like this, chasing down Professor Salomon. The only way she was going to find him, and convince him to stop whatever he was doing, was to leave the course and head out over the grounds. She was aware she’d probably end up in trouble as well, but there was always the chance she’d find him before the professor did.
It was a slim chance, but she had to try.
She jerked the PAV straight up and found herself just over the tree tops seconds later. She wondered about the best way to find him and decided heading to the other side of the school was the best decision. She could probably catch him heading down West End—
She saw someone flying at high speed from just beyond the Observatory, heading south. It had to be Professor Salomon, and if Annie wasn’t mistaken, she was following West End—
She had to be chasing down Kerry and Emma.
Annie pushed her broom forward, fast, chasing after the professor—
Chasing after Kerry.
Yeah, this is going to end . . . well, maybe today, maybe tomorrow. But the end’s in sight, and no matter what the outcome, there’ll likely be tears shed.