"If there was a way to make this quicker, I'd really like that."

Lorie grunted.

If only she knew a way to utilize the process of what she was doing. A shortcut may be there. Making it so making it would be easier, faster, and more efficient.

She could get things finished faster.

Lorie held her pencil upright, poking the graphite lightly at the page.

"Well now what?" She muttered to herself. Her eyes fell in a long rectangular shape, staring off and narrowing. Her eyelashes even batted against each other as she pressed her lips and scanned the email displayed on her laptop screen.

It was her royalty.

THE SOLTONESE ARTIST'S INC.

EMPLOYEE NAME: LORIE PURMINE.

OCCUPATION: AUTHOR.

EARNINGS: $400,000,000.13

DEDUCTION (63%): -$252,000,000.

NET PAY: $148,000,000.

To Lorie's knowledge, there was obviously more information on the digitally-sent stub. Address, source of income (The Soltonese Artist's Inc. liked to send paychecks based on the project, to show which works ended up paying more), and probably some other things her eyes drifted past.

But at the bottom of the stub, there was the title of her last novel.

ARTICLE/WORK: Everything I Need

AUTHOR: LORIE PURMINE.

Lorie closed her laptop, exasperated. It made a firm boum sound. And yet not too harsh (she knew better than that).

Boum.

She pulled her chin down to look at the book that laid closer to her. The maroon red, faux-leather cover with purple and light pink string stitched along the inner spine, holding the pages together. A small crack in its papery corners...

The black ribbon fell in the cracks of the pages, which were separated like a cliff or vague ravine. It could have easily been a river of black blood if it weren't as still as the air found in Lorie's crowded, one-room micro apartment.

At least it was enough for her things–and probably at least five more people if the room willed it.

"Okay, you know what?" Lorie stared at her paper. "Let's just figure some stuff out here."

Blink. Blink.

Wait.

"This doesn't even match their characteristics!" Lorie exclaimed with a grunt. "Or...maybe I can move some things around here...But I already did that earlier."

The that that she moved around earlier stared back at her. They were scenes where she had made some of her characters snap in places they wouldn't have. She knew they wouldn't talk like that there, or over there. But it was such a headache to have to rewrite the scene all over again–would it really matter if those little characters acted out of line? Even if just for a page or two?

"What was I even thinking...She wouldn't say that." Lorie sighed. "And I don't think Marivane would've, either." She stared at a balled loose leaf–it was certainly loose, not even the trash can accepted it.

Lorie sighed. She grunted and pressed her pencil on the paper again. What am I supposed to write here? What am I supposed to write here? What am I even supposed to put here?

Lorie flipped through the notebook, and her hands stopped on a page with descriptions of different creatures. To her, it was unfitting to the story. Fairies. Dragons. Phoenixes. Unicorns. Trolls and goblins and elves—goodness, there wasn't even a difference between those three! The nuances between those three creatures probably existed, but who was Lorie to drain that time on research?

Lorie didn't know exactly what to do with the scene. With the story. How I even got Everything I Need done and out is beyond me.

Her eyebrows hopped at the thought.

"Right..." She said slowly. "I have to get this done. But it's not like I know where this story could go next..."

Lorie held her pencil in the air.

And, landing on the paper, she stroked continuously. Back and forth, back and forth. It made a straight line that was drawn upon in such a calm manner.

Or rather, it was a multitude of layers of straight lines over words and letters stringed together.

#

Unlike coal, it was empty and massless–compared to its dense clump that one could hold in their hands. But just like coal, it meant that something was beyond burned–something beyond breathing, and certainly not in any state of subsistence.

For some things in this world were only meant to die. Or weren't meant to live at all.

Lorie crossed her name out. (No, not her own name.)

"Honestly, I thought I ripped this out already. Actually, there might be more pages."

And behind that page in her maroon-covered notebook, she found another page of descriptions and choppy words.

Marivane: part of CGR, leader of Mafia, loyal, rugged, playful.

Looks similar to K. March. (black eyes, short black curly hair with white streaks).

"What?"

Lorie ripped the page.

"AH!"

Lorie looked up.
"Who said that?" She asked in her calm voice. She shrugged, and continued to hold her pencil and cross out words and rip pages.

I probably need to put this in the shredder after.

Then, as her eyes ran through the pages, she found more info. On more characters. Some pages were a little emptier than others.

"Oh, you know what?" She said to herself. Lorie flipped back to a page she had previously visited, with descriptions of species and not beings in particular. Fantastical creatures were they.

But...

"I don't think this story needs those."

She started scribbling over the page, in zigzag patterns and "zebra stripes" that could easily be compared to the rips she would add on these sheets instead. Or alongside, because she ripped the pages too.

Flipping again (agitated) to the character sheets, she found lists of other characters. Names were crossed out. (In the editor's world, it'd be a strikethrough.)

Now these characters had no relevance.

Would it be considered more effort to erase rather than add? Lorie wondered to herself. Again, she shrugged.

We can just add different ones later...Right?

"Actually...I'm going to have to switch some of these characters out."

One doesn't even act like her kind.

This guy has no relevance because there's no more creatures to hunt.

"And him..." Lorie looked over a page that had a strikethrough over his old (or previous) name.

Skyler.

Vayo Hauninu.

"Why'd I bring him in the first place? He doesn't even fit in the plot!"

She crossed out (in her zigzag patterns and gray-black pencil) words. Some small things that weren't befitting.

Lorie stood up and flipped through her pages again, grunting shortly afterwards. Her eyes popped a little bit, reading the information.

"Wait. I think I can get this story done..."

Or. Lorie thought to herself.

I can probably cut some corners here and just...

She groaned and sat back down. The bookshelf beside her with all the various books and the various papers and the various GSM of those sheets of paper. Lorie remembered that at some point she wrote the character sheets on different sheets of paper:

Origami paper for Makii. 60 GSM.

Parchment paper for Vayo (including that tiny note that her cousin gave her). 90 GSM.

Lined paper for Jack Danger. 120 GSM.

Cardstock paper for Cory. 220 GSM.

When her cousin originally looked over the idea, she pointed out how funny it would be to use the paper type as another species.

"We can call Makii an origami fairy!" Lavish (that was her name) exclaimed. "I don't know about Cory and Jack Danger. Maybe they're different kinds of humans? Jack Danger being a lined paper human doesn't roll off the tongue as nicely, but cardstock Cory does! Or at least a little more than Jack Danger's. Honestly, it might be better to make them look the part–I can draw them if you'd like. Maybe Adveri would like to draw Makii! Oh my gosh, imagine this: They'd be great friends! Don't you think?"

"No. I don't need it." Lorie waved her hand.

Looking back, Lorie partly wished she accepted her offer.

But with what Lorie was doing now, she was kind of glad she didn't.

Lavish was better off painting from different subjects instead.

After all, Lorie was thinking of cutting some parts off. Rearrange some traits. Some of the characters were too complex for a "one-month marathon" that her mind invented.

Lorie reckoned that it would be a little harder to rip someone off. After all, she hadn't fully deleted some parts yet.

But at the end of the day, she was merely working with paper.