Wordcount: 163
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Of hypocrites and hope.

NOTE: This is a very rough draft with no editing at all (per National Novel Wiriting Month rules) and is presented for amusement value only. Think of it as a periscope into my writing process rather than a coherent story!

There will most likely be spelling and grammatical errors afoot as well as flat out bad writing, info dumps, plot holes, contradictions/retcons, uneven characterization and pacing. These snippits are also posted out of order, so please refer to the Outline to figure out where it’s supposed to fit.

~*~*~*~*~

Against The Dying Of The Light

“What’s the point to all of this?” said Gray. “Why are you doing any of this? The doors always close, the worlds always die, and at some point the city will follow them. She can’t keep growing forever.”

“Because we don’t give up until the end.” said White.

“But there’s no way to win–”

“Who said anything about winning?” snapped White. “We survive, and that’s more than we can say for a lot of people.”

“I thought you hated us because all we were doing was surviving,” snapped Gray. “By your own rules surviving isn’t good enough! You’re supposed to be doing something better, something greater than merely surviving– or was what we were what you want to be?”

“We are doing better, but that takes time–”

“You have plenty of time! Head to the inner rings and all you have is time!” Gray snapped. “You’re immortal and you’re judging me and mine for something you can’t manage to do yourselves.”