The Summer Novella Challenge

ThePenultimateGinger

ThePenultimateGinger · May 15, 2019

A scientist creates a machine that can control the flow of time in order to save her wife, who is dying of a viral disease whose cure is yet to be discovered. Menacing Government Agencies and Corperations^TM hot on her trail, our protagonist embarks on an unplanned temporal road trip to escape with the evidence of her creation and find the cure to her wife's illness.

ThePenultimateGinger

ThePenultimateGinger · May 15, 2019

CODE: SELECT ALL

Dr. Olivia Wright

Story Role: protagonist
Occupation: Scientist (quantum physics, and such.)

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Physical Description: Short, wide shoulders and sturdy build, brown eyes, tan, short brown hair, square glasses.
Personality: Loving, but can be a bit short at times. Has deep-seated respect for all life with the exception of centipedes. Intelligent, but doesn't show it off. Quick to fight, but quick to forgive.
Habits/Mannerisms: fiddles with glasses when thinking. Plays the kazoo LIKE A CHAMP.

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Background: Grew up in a small town in an unspecified location, graduated high school with honours (and a few fistfights.) Graduated college with a Doctorate in Quantum Physics, settled down in another small town (location withheld) as a part of a research group, where she met her wife, a bioengineer who has contracted a disease from her work.
Internal Conflicts: Olivia doubts herself, she is afraid she won't ever be good enough or smart enough. She is also terrified of her immense capabilities and intellect.
External Conflicts: Her wife is fatally ill, mysterious government and corporate powers are after her.

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Notes: a work-in-progress

CODE: SELECT ALL
[center][b][size=150] Dr. Olivia Wright [/size][/b][/center]

[b]Story Role: protagonist[/b]    
[b]Occupation: Scientist (quantum physics, and such.) [/b]

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[b]Physical Description: Short, wide shoulders and sturdy build, brown eyes, tan, short brown hair, square glasses. [/b]
[b]Personality: Loving, but can be a bit short at times. Has deep-seated respect for all life with the exception of centipedes. Intelligent, but doesn't show it off. Quick to fight, but quick to forgive. [/b]
[b]Habits/Mannerisms: fiddles with glasses when thinking. Plays the kazoo LIKE A CHAMP.[/b]

-----

[b]Background: Grew up in a small town in an unspecified location, graduated high school with honours (and a few fistfights.) Graduated college with a Doctorate in Quantum Physics, settled down in another small town (location withheld) as a part of a research group, where she met her wife, a bioengineer who has contracted a disease from her work. [/b]
[b]Internal Conflicts: Olivia doubts herself, she is afraid she won't ever be good enough or smart enough. She is also terrified of her immense capabilities and intellect. [/b]
[b]External Conflicts: Her wife is fatally ill, mysterious government and corporate powers are after her. [/b]

-----

[b]Notes: a work-in-progress [/b]

ThePenultimateGinger

ThePenultimateGinger · May 19, 2019

(some of the story I was thinking up while suffering through Mass today)
Olivia's head throbbed like a bass drum. She opened her eyes, trying to filter out the bright light that pummeled against her eyelids. Her first thought was, "did it work?." Her second was, "Pain." Her third was, as she noted the spinning eye the size of a well-fed basketball suspended in the air, "It might've worked." What might have worked was still fuzzy. Olivia closed her eyes, sat up, and prepared herself for whatever would come next.
"Are you in need of assistance?" the floating orb inquired. Upon further inspection, the floating eye was not just a floating eye, but a floating eye hovering a few inches above an almost insultingly well-dressed man, right where his head wasn't. His head was not there, as he did not have a head, nor a neck, but compensated with the large wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. The man extended a pristine gloved hand.
"Are you in need of assistance," he repeated, more clipped this time. Olivia felt that if the eye would roll if it could. She rose to her feet on her own. "I'm fine. Thank you." She brushed some strange red dust off her sweater.
"I was not inquiring upon your health." The man's wings flicked. Olivia backed up several inches but decided not to question the man's rudeness. For now.
"What-" she started, but trailed off, not wanting to be rude. First impressions matter, after all. "Who are you?"
The man drew himself up to his full height, which Olivia estimated to be at least 6'9.
"I," the man said, or at least Olivia thought he said, how he could talk without a mouth was unclear, "am the King of this realm." His words were tinged with a strange accent.
"Oh."
"Yes." The man, or the King, as we may call him now, did not elaborate further. "You should meet my wife."
"Oh," Olivia said again. Things were moving rather fast. The King gripped her arm and began to stride toward what appeared to be a large hill silhouetted against the horizon. The King made no effort to talk as they walked. Olivia tried to take in her surroundings. The land stretched out in all directions, rusty soil broken only by waxy shrubbish plants. It might've been the American South-West, except there were no roads. The sky soared above, more polished than the sky on Earth, and navy blue. Olivia wondered how she knew it was not Earth, but it might have had something to do with the two suns hanging low in the East. Gradually, the land sloped upward, and the shrubs grew into slender trees with broad leaves.
The man did not change his pace or his tight grip on her bicep. Olivia marvelled at his alien anatomy. Her wife-she felt a pang of anxiety deep in her ribs-would have been chattering away in her ear, this-and-that about evolution, pitting an alien ecosystem against Earth's, contemplating other species that could arise from the same conditions. Being a biologist did that to people. Olivia never cared about living things that passionately, she felt intense curiosity and fantasied about other worlds, but her speciality was staying on the ground and sending other people to the stars. The man suddenly stopped. They had reached a tall structure at the top of the hill, constructed of the same reddish material that covered the landscape. It soared into the air, punctured by long windows at intervals. The windows were filled in with blue glass, and they glinted serenely in the half-light. The King's eye whirred upward. Olivia wondered how his eye could move, seeing as it was not attached to his body in any way. He let go of her arm and stepped forward, raising his arm. The man contorted his hand in a bizarre pattern, then stepped back. A solid block of the tower's material shifted aside, grating against the outer wall. Floating orbs of light illuminated a wide spiral staircase. The man gestured to the gap.
"After you."
Olivia stepped inside. The place smelt of wet stone, though it was warm and dry. She wondered why she was trusting this strange being, but there wasn't any other option. She began to climb the staircase. The man followed on foot but tilted his wings upward like he was accustomed to flying over it. Olivia ran her hand across the wall. It was made of curved bricks, and the closer she looked, she realised that the walls were not wholly red, but engraved with white symbols and pictographs. They looked vaguely ancient Egyptian. They looked extremely old. "What are these?" She tapped the wall.
The man shrugged. Oliva snorted. "You've got to know. You live here, right?"
The eye bobbed. "With my wife."
"So what are they?"
The King drew his wings closer to himself like he was cold. He said something that Olivia could not understand.
"What?"
He repeated it. "That is what they are. They have been here as long as we have been. Probably longer. They'll be here after we have gone."
"And how long have you been here?"
If the eye could have squinted thoughtfully, it would have then. "I don't know. That is a question for my wife." He paused at the top of the stairs. "We are here now." He contorted his hand in front of the wall, though if it was the same movement as before, Olivia could not tell. The wall slid open like before, and Olivia could guess that they had reached the top of the tower. The ceiling swelled like the sky above them, a blue glass dome with the orbs of light hovering in it like suns. At the opposite end of the room, a woman stood, facing away from them and appearing to look out the window. She turned. Olivia gasped.

(some of the story I was thinking up while suffering through Mass today)
Olivia's head throbbed like a bass drum. She opened her eyes, trying to filter out the bright light that pummeled against her eyelids. Her first thought was, "did it work?." Her second was, "Pain." Her third was, as she noted the spinning eye the size of a well-fed basketball suspended in the air, "It might've worked." What might have worked was still fuzzy. Olivia closed her eyes, sat up, and prepared herself for whatever would come next. 
"Are you in need of assistance?" the floating orb inquired. Upon further inspection, the floating eye was not just a floating eye, but a floating eye hovering a few inches above an almost insultingly well-dressed man, right where his head wasn't. His head was not there, as he did not have a head, nor a neck, but compensated with the large wings sprouting from his shoulder blades. The man extended a pristine gloved hand. 
"Are you in need of assistance," he repeated, more clipped this time. Olivia felt that if the eye would roll if it could. She rose to her feet on her own. "I'm fine. Thank you." She brushed some strange red dust off her sweater. 
"I was not inquiring upon your health." The man's wings flicked.  Olivia backed up several inches but decided not to question the man's rudeness. For now.
"What-" she started, but trailed off, not wanting to be rude. First impressions matter, after all. "Who are you?" 
The man drew himself up to his full height, which Olivia estimated to be at least 6'9. 
"I," the man said, or at least Olivia thought he said, how he could talk without a mouth was unclear, "am the King of this realm." His words were tinged with a strange accent.
"Oh." 
"Yes." The man, or the King, as we may call him now, did not elaborate further. "You should meet my wife."
"Oh," Olivia said again. Things were moving rather fast. The King gripped her arm and began to stride toward what appeared to be a large hill silhouetted against the horizon. The King made no effort to talk as they walked. Olivia tried to take in her surroundings. The land stretched out in all directions, rusty soil broken only by waxy shrubbish plants. It might've been the American South-West, except there were no roads. The sky soared above, more polished than the sky on Earth, and navy blue. Olivia wondered how she knew it was not Earth, but it might have had something to do with the two suns hanging low in the East. Gradually, the land sloped upward, and the shrubs grew into slender trees with broad leaves.
The man did not change his pace or his tight grip on her bicep. Olivia marvelled at his alien anatomy. Her wife-she felt a pang of anxiety deep in her ribs-would have been chattering away in her ear, this-and-that about evolution, pitting an alien ecosystem against Earth's, contemplating other species that could arise from the same conditions. Being a biologist did that to people. Olivia never cared about living things that passionately, she felt intense curiosity and fantasied about other worlds, but her speciality was staying on the ground and sending other people to the stars. The man suddenly stopped. They had reached a tall structure at the top of the hill, constructed of the same reddish material that covered the landscape. It soared into the air, punctured by long windows at intervals. The windows were filled in with blue glass, and they glinted serenely in the half-light. The King's eye whirred upward. Olivia wondered how his eye could move, seeing as it was not attached to his body in any way. He let go of her arm and stepped forward, raising his arm. The man contorted his hand in a bizarre pattern, then stepped back. A solid block of the tower's material shifted aside, grating against the outer wall. Floating orbs of light illuminated a wide spiral staircase. The man gestured to the gap.
"After you." 
Olivia stepped inside. The place smelt of wet stone, though it was warm and dry. She wondered why she was trusting this strange being, but there wasn't any other option. She began to climb the staircase. The man followed on foot but tilted his wings upward like he was accustomed to flying over it. Olivia ran her hand across the wall. It was made of curved bricks, and the closer she looked, she realised that the walls were not wholly red, but engraved with white symbols and pictographs. They looked vaguely ancient Egyptian. They looked extremely old. "What are these?" She tapped the wall.
The man shrugged. Oliva snorted. "You've got to know. You live here, right?"
The eye bobbed. "With my wife."
"So what are they?"
The King drew his wings closer to himself like he was cold. He said something that Olivia could not understand.
"What?"
He repeated it. "That is what they are. They have been here as long as we have been. Probably longer. They'll be here after we have gone."
"And how long have you been here?"
If the eye could have squinted thoughtfully, it would have then. "I don't know. That is a question for my wife." He paused at the top of the stairs. "We are here now." He contorted his hand in front of the wall, though if it was the same movement as before, Olivia could not tell. The wall slid open like before, and Olivia could guess that they had reached the top of the tower. The ceiling swelled like the sky above them, a blue glass dome with the orbs of light hovering in it like suns. At the opposite end of the room, a woman stood, facing away from them and appearing to look out the window. She turned. Olivia gasped.

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