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What I've Been Working On:
The Prisoner (a novella about a fantasy world controlled by a religious Order - basically, magically endowed people are used to fuel a spell for turning people Immortal.)
Chapter 1:
Notes:
The Prisoner (a novella about a fantasy world controlled by a religious Order - basically, magically endowed people are used to fuel a spell for turning people Immortal.)
Chapter 1:
Chapter 1: The Prisoner
I was put into heavy iron shackles. I could feel their coldness and weight on my ankles and wrists. The edges dug painfully into my flesh, a reminder of what I was charged with. Murder. I could feel the tension from the iron links loosen and tighten as the others were fastened in as well. From what I could see, the main Warden was a woman. A sadistic lady of the Order, she had personally saw to the torture of a young boy, just for information on the location of an artifact. The rest of the Order are no better. A shout and a tug on the chain meant we were ready for travel, as it was. I took up the stride, along with the rest of the prisoners. My heavy iron mask kept hitting me in chest, and it was difficult with lift my head enough to keep the bottom edge from gouging me. I could tell we were out of the tavern, as it was immensely bright, even through the slits in my iron mask. I wondered how the Wardens kept themselves from going blind in the heat....
It was a five day trek from the town to The Pit. The Pit, from stories I've been told, is just that. A large gaping maw in the earth with different levels separating the prisoners. The worse prisoners are at the bottom. Two troughs ring the top, and they travel with pipes through different levels. One of these holds food and water, and the other, excrement. I was to experience The Pit for the rest of my life...
I heard the female Warden stomp up to me. "Prisoner, you are lucky! You get to spend time in the arena, before you spend the rest of your life in The Pit!" As she left, her hand grasped a breast and squeezed with all her might. Tears streamed down my face, and collected in the ridges and ledges of the mask. I took a raspy breath, and used all my willpower to stop from passing out. I felt the Warden remove the shackles from my wrists, and take away the chains from my ankles. It was a relief to have my wrists out, and I nervously rubbed by a hand over the shackle indentation.
In the same motion, I quickly shot out my other wrist, the bony ends coming in contact the Warden's nose. I felt her collapse, and I used the rest of my body to cushion her fall. I wiggled out from underneath her limp body, and I felt two hands grab my shoulders. My compatriot's hot breath washed over my left ear, and he said..."...I have a tool hidden behind the good stuff at the Warden's Den." I then heard and felt a sickening crack as he rammed his knee into my ribs. My consciousness quickly faded away.
I awoke in a dark room. I was lying on a comfortable fabric mattress, and a quick check of my body felt okay. My side was bandaged, although, and I felt a wetness coming from the bandages, although, strangely enough...no pain. I sat up, feeling my head ring as the iron mask settled again. I saw a torch flare into life, and the room was suddenly thrown into stark relief. It was the old bartender from The Rusty Hook. He grimaced and muttered something about having a job done. "I'm not a murderer for hire, old man." That voice, my voice sounded uncomfortably loud in my ears. The bartender smirked, amusement playing over his face, and then he spoke. "I've removed some of the effects of the mask. Your senses should be louder, brighter and more easily accessed."
"I won't sleep with you. So what's your price for helping me escape The Pit?" My voice came out a little less loudly, but it was still hoarse from it's overuse before. The old bartender continued...describing what I was charged with. I nodded, and quickly cleared my throat. The bartender offered me a goblet of wine, and I greedily downed it in a gulp, pouring it through the thin slit in my mask. Much of it spilled onto the floor, but at least my thirst was quenched. "Yes. I was charged with the murder of the Head Warden."
I was put into heavy iron shackles. I could feel their coldness and weight on my ankles and wrists. The edges dug painfully into my flesh, a reminder of what I was charged with. Murder. I could feel the tension from the iron links loosen and tighten as the others were fastened in as well. From what I could see, the main Warden was a woman. A sadistic lady of the Order, she had personally saw to the torture of a young boy, just for information on the location of an artifact. The rest of the Order are no better. A shout and a tug on the chain meant we were ready for travel, as it was. I took up the stride, along with the rest of the prisoners. My heavy iron mask kept hitting me in chest, and it was difficult with lift my head enough to keep the bottom edge from gouging me. I could tell we were out of the tavern, as it was immensely bright, even through the slits in my iron mask. I wondered how the Wardens kept themselves from going blind in the heat....
It was a five day trek from the town to The Pit. The Pit, from stories I've been told, is just that. A large gaping maw in the earth with different levels separating the prisoners. The worse prisoners are at the bottom. Two troughs ring the top, and they travel with pipes through different levels. One of these holds food and water, and the other, excrement. I was to experience The Pit for the rest of my life...
I heard the female Warden stomp up to me. "Prisoner, you are lucky! You get to spend time in the arena, before you spend the rest of your life in The Pit!" As she left, her hand grasped a breast and squeezed with all her might. Tears streamed down my face, and collected in the ridges and ledges of the mask. I took a raspy breath, and used all my willpower to stop from passing out. I felt the Warden remove the shackles from my wrists, and take away the chains from my ankles. It was a relief to have my wrists out, and I nervously rubbed by a hand over the shackle indentation.
In the same motion, I quickly shot out my other wrist, the bony ends coming in contact the Warden's nose. I felt her collapse, and I used the rest of my body to cushion her fall. I wiggled out from underneath her limp body, and I felt two hands grab my shoulders. My compatriot's hot breath washed over my left ear, and he said..."...I have a tool hidden behind the good stuff at the Warden's Den." I then heard and felt a sickening crack as he rammed his knee into my ribs. My consciousness quickly faded away.
I awoke in a dark room. I was lying on a comfortable fabric mattress, and a quick check of my body felt okay. My side was bandaged, although, and I felt a wetness coming from the bandages, although, strangely enough...no pain. I sat up, feeling my head ring as the iron mask settled again. I saw a torch flare into life, and the room was suddenly thrown into stark relief. It was the old bartender from The Rusty Hook. He grimaced and muttered something about having a job done. "I'm not a murderer for hire, old man." That voice, my voice sounded uncomfortably loud in my ears. The bartender smirked, amusement playing over his face, and then he spoke. "I've removed some of the effects of the mask. Your senses should be louder, brighter and more easily accessed."
"I won't sleep with you. So what's your price for helping me escape The Pit?" My voice came out a little less loudly, but it was still hoarse from it's overuse before. The old bartender continued...describing what I was charged with. I nodded, and quickly cleared my throat. The bartender offered me a goblet of wine, and I greedily downed it in a gulp, pouring it through the thin slit in my mask. Much of it spilled onto the floor, but at least my thirst was quenched. "Yes. I was charged with the murder of the Head Warden."
Notes:
The Order - just a standard religious Order, but adovacating creation of Pain/Punishment in others so they know they aren't in Paradise. Higher members are in the rest of the story, but this religious group isn't just content with living beings.
The Pit - basically a prison that is a giant hole in the ground in a desert. It's reinforced with concrete and cobblestones, and hosts a elevator in it to lower and restrain prisoners into it. It is pretty deep, and contains 30 levels. The prisoners are fed and watered through a system of pipes and pumps. Two different pumps and pipe systems control the water and food supply. There are no cells, but just open spaces. There is a spike pit right at the bottom of it, so people thrown into it usually die.
Magik Users - anyone who has the power to use any magik. This world contains four types of magic - fire, water, earth and air. However, there are people and characters with different affinities for magik...the Bartender is one of these people.
Iron Mask - basically a mask that muffles all of the five senses. The wearer can barely see, hear, taste, touch, or smell when wearing it. Another chapter is coming up, where the main character tries to get it removed.
The Pit - basically a prison that is a giant hole in the ground in a desert. It's reinforced with concrete and cobblestones, and hosts a elevator in it to lower and restrain prisoners into it. It is pretty deep, and contains 30 levels. The prisoners are fed and watered through a system of pipes and pumps. Two different pumps and pipe systems control the water and food supply. There are no cells, but just open spaces. There is a spike pit right at the bottom of it, so people thrown into it usually die.
Magik Users - anyone who has the power to use any magik. This world contains four types of magic - fire, water, earth and air. However, there are people and characters with different affinities for magik...the Bartender is one of these people.
Iron Mask - basically a mask that muffles all of the five senses. The wearer can barely see, hear, taste, touch, or smell when wearing it. Another chapter is coming up, where the main character tries to get it removed.
Haeven't been writing so much these last few days. Mum bought a 'new' [well, slightly used] notebook pc and though I can't use it for long stretches [esp not on weekends, when she lets my aunt borrow it for making business papers or something] it's way, way, waaaaaay better than our current pc. So I've been setting it up [y'know, browser, antivirus, plugins, downloaded the manual, disabled/deleted some items] and now that I've got it all done, I think I'll do most of my typing there [less chances of it crashing and/or wiping my files, for one].
Meanwhile, my head's story writing team has been assembling the story in the background, so it's all good.
How are y'all?
PS
I monitored the SB for research [kind of] and all I learned is that a blackout can turn the tide of a game... and apparently, Beyonce performed well in halftime, lolz. Ravens won, so I'm happy. XDD
Meanwhile, my head's story writing team has been assembling the story in the background, so it's all good.
How are y'all?
PS
I monitored the SB for research [kind of] and all I learned is that a blackout can turn the tide of a game... and apparently, Beyonce performed well in halftime, lolz. Ravens won, so I'm happy. XDD
I've been writing a lot lately. You guys ought to check out the paper one of my characters is "writing" on magical theory in Terrestria. I'll post the link to my drive for ya'.
The full story. This is version two. I like it a lot better than number one.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SpyV5qjWOaBDyDQ_78Ta31vEUcD3bptdpFk3wIB5BPI/edit?usp=sharing
Magic - An Introduction
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BS03QR5UolGpVXF54NPpFYEMJpw1eezpVm6db7XYhS4/edit?usp=sharing
The full story. This is version two. I like it a lot better than number one.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SpyV5qjWOaBDyDQ_78Ta31vEUcD3bptdpFk3wIB5BPI/edit?usp=sharing
Magic - An Introduction
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1BS03QR5UolGpVXF54NPpFYEMJpw1eezpVm6db7XYhS4/edit?usp=sharing
Hey guys! How are y'all?!
Anyway, just a tad bit of ranting here... I personally have lost every ounce of respect I had for MS Office. I just recently got this nagging problem with their microsoft office starter and it is a dead end so impermeable, it's more like a freaking black hole [in that you can't retrace your steps short of doing a system restore].
Now I am a proud user of an open-source 'productivity suite' that [thankfully] can open/save in MS's noxiously MS Office-locked file types. Darn things are clingy bitches and I really wouldn't mess with them if I had a choice, but since my entire body of work [so to speak] is in .docx, I have little choice in the matter, really.
So... writing update... Erm, I'm writing as of the moment [took a pause to post/rant here]. It really hasn't been a good week, what with getting sick and the friggin weather and the aforementioned fail of my previous word processor. I was relegated to reading [and playing, among other things] mostly.
Part 2's doing swell, though. Well, chapter 2 is kind of awkward, but that was the 'feel' I was going for anyway, so no complaints there, really. I reckon I'll be up my nose in chapter 3 soon [knock on wood] and after that, well, who knows. Pent-up frustration can bring along creative momentum at times [so says the easily-frustrated one].
Anyway, me mum's out of town for the foreseeable future [read: the weekend] so I might [again, hopefully] get better progress, whilst sacrificing slumber.
So... How is everybody?
PS
Right... the less anyone mentions Valentine's Day to me, the better.
Anyway, just a tad bit of ranting here... I personally have lost every ounce of respect I had for MS Office. I just recently got this nagging problem with their microsoft office starter and it is a dead end so impermeable, it's more like a freaking black hole [in that you can't retrace your steps short of doing a system restore].
Now I am a proud user of an open-source 'productivity suite' that [thankfully] can open/save in MS's noxiously MS Office-locked file types. Darn things are clingy bitches and I really wouldn't mess with them if I had a choice, but since my entire body of work [so to speak] is in .docx, I have little choice in the matter, really.
So... writing update... Erm, I'm writing as of the moment [took a pause to post/rant here]. It really hasn't been a good week, what with getting sick and the friggin weather and the aforementioned fail of my previous word processor. I was relegated to reading [and playing, among other things] mostly.
Part 2's doing swell, though. Well, chapter 2 is kind of awkward, but that was the 'feel' I was going for anyway, so no complaints there, really. I reckon I'll be up my nose in chapter 3 soon [knock on wood] and after that, well, who knows. Pent-up frustration can bring along creative momentum at times [so says the easily-frustrated one].
Anyway, me mum's out of town for the foreseeable future [read: the weekend] so I might [again, hopefully] get better progress, whilst sacrificing slumber.
So... How is everybody?
PS
Right... the less anyone mentions Valentine's Day to me, the better.
Let's see here... I got a job. Began a Nuzlocke Challenge. Began a journal of said challenge. Posted said journal to several sites. Re-wrote the journal into a Novelization of said challenge. Re-posted what I posted originally and flew into the sun... Like a baus.
In fact, I think I'll post what I have here in the guild. I hope you guys enjoy.
In fact, I think I'll post what I have here in the guild. I hope you guys enjoy.
The door of fate stood in front of me. Its handles beckoned me to grasp and open it. Each step I took rang out among the cold stone pillars as clear as a bell echoing across the land. Boom! Boom! Boom! Come closer. Boom! Just one more step. BOOM! Open me and seize this moment of grandiose proportions. As I grabbed the doors and flung them open, a white light engulfed me and the sound of a crowd filled my ears…
Blinded by the white light, I was confused as I awoke. The moving van had stopped and I stared into the kind eyes of my mother.
“We’re home April.”
April’s Nuzlocke Adventure
I heard the clap of a door. Two large Pokémon appeared behind my mother and began to carefully grab boxes. She smiled at me and said, “Why don’t you go check out your room upstairs. The movers already brought your things to your room and unpacked them.”
I smiled back in reply and she turned around to direct the movers. Hoenn… I wonder what sort of surprises it will have in store for me. I hopped lightly to the ground and shielded my eyes from the midday sun. Well it had better have surprises. This town “Littleroot” seems incredibly dull.
I observed the windswept plains a bit longer before I turned to my new home. It was a small cottage just big enough for two. My mom had purchased it in order to be closer to dad… I don’t know what she sees in that man. He’s never home and he hasn’t sent money back like he’d promised to. I swear he loves his Pokémon more than her.
The interior was sparsely furnished with a small kitchen to the left. The movers were efficient indeed. Already the couch and TV had been unpacked. Under my mother’s expert direction the Pokémon had even hooked up the cable and ceiling fan.
My feet dully thumped on the carpeted stairwell as I made my way to my room. I smiled. It was set up the same way it had been at our place across the sea. Besides the clock, everything was set up and raring to go. Before I headed downstairs, I rewound the springs and set it to the proper time. There. Now it’s as if I’d never left.
“Thank you for your help,” she said as she handed two small bags of treats to the Pokémon. “Bye now. Tell your superiors that I’ve wired payment to their account.”
When she had closed the door I spoke up, “You know Pokémon can’t really talk right?”
“Honey, you know that isn’t true. Once you get to know a person, you can understand him without even hearing his words.” A longing look came into her eyes as she continued, “It’s much the same with Pokémon. Even if we don’t speak the same language we can still understand each other.”
Pfft. She’s probably right, but until I get my own Pokémon though I’ll reserve my own judgment.
“That reminds me. Why don’t you go talk to Professor Birch. His lab is right here in town. Maybe he’ll give you your own Pokémon.”
“My own… You mean it?”
She smiled and said, “Yes I do. Your eighteenth birthday was last week. You’re old enough to take care of yourself, so why not a Pokémon of your own.”
“Okay! I’ll go right now!” As I said that I ran into the door in my excitement. “Ow, first I have to get the door open though.” I could hear her laughter as I ran. It was good to hear that again.
The hulk of the lab could be seen clearly in the midday sun. The large double door entrance opened effortlessly and I walked in. The aid on duty stopped me before I continued inside. “The professor is currently out doing research.” His spotless lab coat rustled as he stirred the liquid he was distilling. “His son should be home, why don’t you go ask him where he is?”
“Thanks. I think I’ll do just that.”
I remembered the house next door to mine and headed towards it. It looked much the same but considerably bigger. I knocked on the door and entered. I spotted Birch’s wife in the kitchen and called out to her, “I need to talk to your son, is he home?”
She smiled and pointed to the upstairs before she turned back to her duties. My feet again thudded dully against the carpet on the stairs. When I walked into his room, nobody was there… aside from a pokéball anyway. When I went to take a peek at which Pokémon he had, I heard footsteps running towards me.
A boy my age barged in and yelled, “What are you doing in my room!”
I smiled and casually said, “Relax, I came over here to talk to you.” Though he sounded angry, he looked curious.
“To me…? Oh, you must be the girl that moved in next door. My father didn’t tell me how pretty you were.”
I could feel an involuntary blush cross my face at the comment. It wasn’t often I received compliments that earnest. “W-well, I suppose you never asked!”
“No, you’re right.” It looked like he was a bit oblivious. “Anyway, you’re looking for my father right? Well, he’s out researching in the fields…” His voice trailed off as he went to pick up his pokéball. He thrust it into his belt and said, “He should be back by now. I’m preparing for a short jaunt up the road to help with his research so I can’t look for him. By the way I’m Silver and you are…?”
I held out my hand and said, “April.”
He accepted the gesture and said, “Nice to meet you April. If you don’t want to wait, why don’t you check out Route 101. He must have gotten distracted by a rare plant or something. I have to do some things on the computer before I leave so I guess I’ll be seeing you later.”
As I walked out, I noted his attire. It was definitely more rugged than my own. His baggy tan khaki pants were riddled with pockets and pouches and matched his hiking boots. His belt was an unusual one. It looked like a tool belt, but with half the pouches. His left side instead had a row of magnets with a single pokéball taking up a slot. I made a mental note to ask where he got it. His shirt was just a black T-Shirt, but it was also secured with a similar belt like the one at his waist. He also carried a rucksack on his back. The last unusual thing was his Silver hair. Silver indeed. I like his hair.
As I left I called out, “Bye, see you again Lily!”
“Be careful April!”
The town exit wasn’t more than a thirty second walk away. Really it wasn’t even a town, but I digress. As I drew close I could hear the frantic screams of a little girl. What the… I broke into a dash. The pathetic sight that greeted me almost made me laugh. The youthful professor had been cornered in a tree by a small dog Pokémon named Poochyena. The sounds had evidentially come from him.
He spotted me and yelled, “You there, grab the crowbar from my bag and help me!”
A crowbar… What kind of Pokémon professor carries a crowbar? I rummaged through the discarded pack on the ground. When I couldn’t find a crowbar I said, “There’s no crowbar, only a Pokémon!’
“Then use it! I’m losing my grip as we speak!”
I snickered a little and tossed the pokéball onto the ground. “Go Pokémon!”
A small birdlike creature appeared. It was the color of flames, deep orange and bright yellow. “Torchic,“ it cooed.
“Hmm, you’re Torchic right? Well, let’s save the professor then! Use tackle!”
The little bird lowered itself into an attack stance. His talon clawed at the ground slightly before he ran full steam ahead. The small black dog had its back turned and had no idea that the furious feather storm behind it was about to strike. Then it hit him full force.
The dog tumbled head over heels from the force of the strike. When he regained his footing and got up, he growled at Torchic. He became hesitant to strike, but I urged him on for another tackle. This time there was the crunch of bone. Two ribs poked through the pup’s chest. Spurts of blood squirted upon the ground at each breath. He was not long for this world.
At his final heave, he went silent. The professor dropped to the ground and said, “Thank you…?”
“April,” I said as I extended my hand.
He took it and said, “Ah, you’re from the family that moved in today. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to greet you and your mother, but I simply had to get this trek done… No thanks to that damned dog.” Torchic yawned and curled up at my feet. “Wow, the little blighter’s taken a shine to you. He doesn’t even do that around me and I caught the little bastard. Haha! Why don’t you keep him as a token of my appreciation mate.”
“Honest?”
“Yep, meet me at my lab after you get some rest. I have something I’d like you to do.” He picked up his rucksack and walked back towards Littleroot. Just before he rounded the corner, he turned and said, “Why don’t you name him?” After the suggestion he chuckled and disappeared from sight.
“Name you huh?” The now napping chick seemed perfectly peaceful as he nestled between my feet. “Why don’t I call you Ace.” His head jerked to attention. He answered my questioning look with a joyful squawk. “Then It’s settled Ace. Let’s head to the professor’s lab then. We have something to do.”
Blinded by the white light, I was confused as I awoke. The moving van had stopped and I stared into the kind eyes of my mother.
“We’re home April.”
April’s Nuzlocke Adventure
I heard the clap of a door. Two large Pokémon appeared behind my mother and began to carefully grab boxes. She smiled at me and said, “Why don’t you go check out your room upstairs. The movers already brought your things to your room and unpacked them.”
I smiled back in reply and she turned around to direct the movers. Hoenn… I wonder what sort of surprises it will have in store for me. I hopped lightly to the ground and shielded my eyes from the midday sun. Well it had better have surprises. This town “Littleroot” seems incredibly dull.
I observed the windswept plains a bit longer before I turned to my new home. It was a small cottage just big enough for two. My mom had purchased it in order to be closer to dad… I don’t know what she sees in that man. He’s never home and he hasn’t sent money back like he’d promised to. I swear he loves his Pokémon more than her.
The interior was sparsely furnished with a small kitchen to the left. The movers were efficient indeed. Already the couch and TV had been unpacked. Under my mother’s expert direction the Pokémon had even hooked up the cable and ceiling fan.
My feet dully thumped on the carpeted stairwell as I made my way to my room. I smiled. It was set up the same way it had been at our place across the sea. Besides the clock, everything was set up and raring to go. Before I headed downstairs, I rewound the springs and set it to the proper time. There. Now it’s as if I’d never left.
“Thank you for your help,” she said as she handed two small bags of treats to the Pokémon. “Bye now. Tell your superiors that I’ve wired payment to their account.”
When she had closed the door I spoke up, “You know Pokémon can’t really talk right?”
“Honey, you know that isn’t true. Once you get to know a person, you can understand him without even hearing his words.” A longing look came into her eyes as she continued, “It’s much the same with Pokémon. Even if we don’t speak the same language we can still understand each other.”
Pfft. She’s probably right, but until I get my own Pokémon though I’ll reserve my own judgment.
“That reminds me. Why don’t you go talk to Professor Birch. His lab is right here in town. Maybe he’ll give you your own Pokémon.”
“My own… You mean it?”
She smiled and said, “Yes I do. Your eighteenth birthday was last week. You’re old enough to take care of yourself, so why not a Pokémon of your own.”
“Okay! I’ll go right now!” As I said that I ran into the door in my excitement. “Ow, first I have to get the door open though.” I could hear her laughter as I ran. It was good to hear that again.
The hulk of the lab could be seen clearly in the midday sun. The large double door entrance opened effortlessly and I walked in. The aid on duty stopped me before I continued inside. “The professor is currently out doing research.” His spotless lab coat rustled as he stirred the liquid he was distilling. “His son should be home, why don’t you go ask him where he is?”
“Thanks. I think I’ll do just that.”
I remembered the house next door to mine and headed towards it. It looked much the same but considerably bigger. I knocked on the door and entered. I spotted Birch’s wife in the kitchen and called out to her, “I need to talk to your son, is he home?”
She smiled and pointed to the upstairs before she turned back to her duties. My feet again thudded dully against the carpet on the stairs. When I walked into his room, nobody was there… aside from a pokéball anyway. When I went to take a peek at which Pokémon he had, I heard footsteps running towards me.
A boy my age barged in and yelled, “What are you doing in my room!”
I smiled and casually said, “Relax, I came over here to talk to you.” Though he sounded angry, he looked curious.
“To me…? Oh, you must be the girl that moved in next door. My father didn’t tell me how pretty you were.”
I could feel an involuntary blush cross my face at the comment. It wasn’t often I received compliments that earnest. “W-well, I suppose you never asked!”
“No, you’re right.” It looked like he was a bit oblivious. “Anyway, you’re looking for my father right? Well, he’s out researching in the fields…” His voice trailed off as he went to pick up his pokéball. He thrust it into his belt and said, “He should be back by now. I’m preparing for a short jaunt up the road to help with his research so I can’t look for him. By the way I’m Silver and you are…?”
I held out my hand and said, “April.”
He accepted the gesture and said, “Nice to meet you April. If you don’t want to wait, why don’t you check out Route 101. He must have gotten distracted by a rare plant or something. I have to do some things on the computer before I leave so I guess I’ll be seeing you later.”
As I walked out, I noted his attire. It was definitely more rugged than my own. His baggy tan khaki pants were riddled with pockets and pouches and matched his hiking boots. His belt was an unusual one. It looked like a tool belt, but with half the pouches. His left side instead had a row of magnets with a single pokéball taking up a slot. I made a mental note to ask where he got it. His shirt was just a black T-Shirt, but it was also secured with a similar belt like the one at his waist. He also carried a rucksack on his back. The last unusual thing was his Silver hair. Silver indeed. I like his hair.
As I left I called out, “Bye, see you again Lily!”
“Be careful April!”
The town exit wasn’t more than a thirty second walk away. Really it wasn’t even a town, but I digress. As I drew close I could hear the frantic screams of a little girl. What the… I broke into a dash. The pathetic sight that greeted me almost made me laugh. The youthful professor had been cornered in a tree by a small dog Pokémon named Poochyena. The sounds had evidentially come from him.
He spotted me and yelled, “You there, grab the crowbar from my bag and help me!”
A crowbar… What kind of Pokémon professor carries a crowbar? I rummaged through the discarded pack on the ground. When I couldn’t find a crowbar I said, “There’s no crowbar, only a Pokémon!’
“Then use it! I’m losing my grip as we speak!”
I snickered a little and tossed the pokéball onto the ground. “Go Pokémon!”
A small birdlike creature appeared. It was the color of flames, deep orange and bright yellow. “Torchic,“ it cooed.
“Hmm, you’re Torchic right? Well, let’s save the professor then! Use tackle!”
The little bird lowered itself into an attack stance. His talon clawed at the ground slightly before he ran full steam ahead. The small black dog had its back turned and had no idea that the furious feather storm behind it was about to strike. Then it hit him full force.
The dog tumbled head over heels from the force of the strike. When he regained his footing and got up, he growled at Torchic. He became hesitant to strike, but I urged him on for another tackle. This time there was the crunch of bone. Two ribs poked through the pup’s chest. Spurts of blood squirted upon the ground at each breath. He was not long for this world.
At his final heave, he went silent. The professor dropped to the ground and said, “Thank you…?”
“April,” I said as I extended my hand.
He took it and said, “Ah, you’re from the family that moved in today. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to greet you and your mother, but I simply had to get this trek done… No thanks to that damned dog.” Torchic yawned and curled up at my feet. “Wow, the little blighter’s taken a shine to you. He doesn’t even do that around me and I caught the little bastard. Haha! Why don’t you keep him as a token of my appreciation mate.”
“Honest?”
“Yep, meet me at my lab after you get some rest. I have something I’d like you to do.” He picked up his rucksack and walked back towards Littleroot. Just before he rounded the corner, he turned and said, “Why don’t you name him?” After the suggestion he chuckled and disappeared from sight.
“Name you huh?” The now napping chick seemed perfectly peaceful as he nestled between my feet. “Why don’t I call you Ace.” His head jerked to attention. He answered my questioning look with a joyful squawk. “Then It’s settled Ace. Let’s head to the professor’s lab then. We have something to do.”
Hey guys.
So, here are a few [I think] things I want to talk about at the moment...
For a while, I've had as much progress at writing anything as a blind, illiterate, world-hating person without any imagination. So, yeah, it kind of sucked. However, I have had a few story ideas. Funny, I always have ideas I want to write, but I can't seem to finish any when I start them...
So, figuring that I have only every finished two stories, am in the process of rewriting the 'novel' coz I think it sucks while trying to write the sequel [both unsuccessfully, as you may have gathered]. The other is a short story, that weirdly enough, I think of as my best fiction as of the moment, considering I dislike short fiction.
An idea then arrived from idea-land... which is to write a short story, a prequel of sorts to my first 'novel'. I think I've been away from this universe I first created damn near a year ago, so maybe a short narrative with fewer characters and continuity checks will let me ease back in better.
Also, as it focuses on a freaking battle, it lets me dish out more action, which is something I've been missing in this continuity, feeling there is more 'drama' than is strictly necessary [a caveat of writing mostly teenaged characters]. No angst here, just two opposing sides wanting no more than to see the other side in pieces.
So, that's that. How is everyone?
So, here are a few [I think] things I want to talk about at the moment...
For a while, I've had as much progress at writing anything as a blind, illiterate, world-hating person without any imagination. So, yeah, it kind of sucked. However, I have had a few story ideas. Funny, I always have ideas I want to write, but I can't seem to finish any when I start them...
So, figuring that I have only every finished two stories, am in the process of rewriting the 'novel' coz I think it sucks while trying to write the sequel [both unsuccessfully, as you may have gathered]. The other is a short story, that weirdly enough, I think of as my best fiction as of the moment, considering I dislike short fiction.
An idea then arrived from idea-land... which is to write a short story, a prequel of sorts to my first 'novel'. I think I've been away from this universe I first created damn near a year ago, so maybe a short narrative with fewer characters and continuity checks will let me ease back in better.
Also, as it focuses on a freaking battle, it lets me dish out more action, which is something I've been missing in this continuity, feeling there is more 'drama' than is strictly necessary [a caveat of writing mostly teenaged characters]. No angst here, just two opposing sides wanting no more than to see the other side in pieces.
So, that's that. How is everyone?
Pretty good. I'm making headway on my story. I scrapped about 20k more words though and I'm quite sad about that. :/ I got a job too so there's less time to write. I also update my story every Sunday on my FP page in my sig.
So, updating coz writing this stuff gives me more motivation to keep going...
Anyway, short story's moving along pretty fine. I do have to divulged [and therefore invent] more of the futuristic, alternate universe tech and weaponry my characters use. Good thing about sci fi and speculative fiction in general, it doesn't raise too many eyebrows with these things.
And then there's, uh, well, my character. He's not a nice guy at all, not in this one, killing men, women, children, even his allies, coz that's what a supersoldier is supposed to do [if ordered to]. I mean, the character archetype is a dime a dozen in fiction, but I think it's kind of misused to the point that a little dumb luck wipes out a hundred of them, which isn't quite 'super', really.
I mean, ok, the first story I really started to write seriously was horror, so killing off characters who were written specifically to die shouldn't be a big deal. The characterization just makes me cringe a little. But then, if I can get any reader at all to see the character as he was meant to be, I guess it's a fair trade-off, right?
Now, the thing is... it's really, really short. I'm just about two-thirds of the way through [unless a few more ideas present themselves] and it's only at 2300+ words. To compare, eventuality was at 8k+. Of course, it's not like I'm going to dilute the story for the sake of a darned word count or anything but still... Hm...
How's it over there?
PS
The title's "Black Border" btw. It turns out it might actually add some depth to the first two stories... or foreshadowing, at least.
Anyway, short story's moving along pretty fine. I do have to divulged [and therefore invent] more of the futuristic, alternate universe tech and weaponry my characters use. Good thing about sci fi and speculative fiction in general, it doesn't raise too many eyebrows with these things.
And then there's, uh, well, my character. He's not a nice guy at all, not in this one, killing men, women, children, even his allies, coz that's what a supersoldier is supposed to do [if ordered to]. I mean, the character archetype is a dime a dozen in fiction, but I think it's kind of misused to the point that a little dumb luck wipes out a hundred of them, which isn't quite 'super', really.
I mean, ok, the first story I really started to write seriously was horror, so killing off characters who were written specifically to die shouldn't be a big deal. The characterization just makes me cringe a little. But then, if I can get any reader at all to see the character as he was meant to be, I guess it's a fair trade-off, right?
Now, the thing is... it's really, really short. I'm just about two-thirds of the way through [unless a few more ideas present themselves] and it's only at 2300+ words. To compare, eventuality was at 8k+. Of course, it's not like I'm going to dilute the story for the sake of a darned word count or anything but still... Hm...
How's it over there?
PS
The title's "Black Border" btw. It turns out it might actually add some depth to the first two stories... or foreshadowing, at least.
So, reading Haunted by Chuck Palahniuk and, um... It's kind of sick, yeah?
And, anyway, besides, that, I'm looking through my 'body of work' [most of it unfinished] to see if anything there sparks, sizzles, glows... Anything. It's like my brain's tapped out. There is, like, zero motivation there. I don't even know why. Hm...
Maybe coz my brain's telling me to write something and I'm not listening? Kind of have that feeling, somehow. Then again, so many ideas, no motivation. Kinda sucks. Ah, well, whatever works, I guess... Need to get my ass in gear, somehow [gets into lotus position to meditate].
Can you believe a quarter of the year's gone and passed into history already? Damn. Well, happy April Fool's Day and all that whatnot.
Guts hasn't messed me up as badly as the reviews say it should, but then I watched The Final Destination, so I'd sort of seen the same thing, and it didn't shake me up that badly. We'll see how the other stories go.
And, anyway, besides, that, I'm looking through my 'body of work' [most of it unfinished] to see if anything there sparks, sizzles, glows... Anything. It's like my brain's tapped out. There is, like, zero motivation there. I don't even know why. Hm...
Maybe coz my brain's telling me to write something and I'm not listening? Kind of have that feeling, somehow. Then again, so many ideas, no motivation. Kinda sucks. Ah, well, whatever works, I guess... Need to get my ass in gear, somehow [gets into lotus position to meditate].
Can you believe a quarter of the year's gone and passed into history already? Damn. Well, happy April Fool's Day and all that whatnot.
Yo, peeps! Happy 4/20, I guess? Is that even a big thing any more [or at all]? I just saw it on FB, really.
Um, so yeah, finally finished ch. 2 of Anomalies. Had to slog it though the first two chapters of this one because they are all fallout from the first story's ending. It's all of 5k+ words, but it feels like 20k+, that's how tedious it felt. Next chapters are all story again, so hopefully that bodes better.
Man, my last post was the beginning of April... Now it's the 21st [here] already. God. Damn. Time, must thee mock me so?
Um, so yeah, finally finished ch. 2 of Anomalies. Had to slog it though the first two chapters of this one because they are all fallout from the first story's ending. It's all of 5k+ words, but it feels like 20k+, that's how tedious it felt. Next chapters are all story again, so hopefully that bodes better.
Man, my last post was the beginning of April... Now it's the 21st [here] already. God. Damn. Time, must thee mock me so?
Hey, look, it's May...
Anyway, let it be said that the internet is killing off my story-writing time. Well, not really... I kind of have to try and watch over my one year-old nephew, too. I'm not doing a good job, but, eh, I'll get better [I should damn well hope so, anyway].
Well, at least the story's going in my head once more, so there's that. Just gotta try and squeeze in more words per minute, I guess...
Also, Summer in here and by the gods, is it hot... Our consumption of carbonated beverages [with ice, sometimes] and the amount of prayers for rain have increased exponentially. In a month and a half, we'd be swamped in floods again. What joy.
So, how're y'all guys?
Anyway, let it be said that the internet is killing off my story-writing time. Well, not really... I kind of have to try and watch over my one year-old nephew, too. I'm not doing a good job, but, eh, I'll get better [I should damn well hope so, anyway].
Well, at least the story's going in my head once more, so there's that. Just gotta try and squeeze in more words per minute, I guess...
Also, Summer in here and by the gods, is it hot... Our consumption of carbonated beverages [with ice, sometimes] and the amount of prayers for rain have increased exponentially. In a month and a half, we'd be swamped in floods again. What joy.
So, how're y'all guys?
Great, I'm busy with writing, and I'm up to 25k words with a weekly update schedule. I got a new computer so I'm a bit occupied by a fully modded Fallout: New Vegas. :L
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Haven't been writing lately because of summer job looky loo, but I also have a spring course I have to worry about as well. Kind of annoying, but it's a good thing. I've mostly been reading a lot of Sue Grafton and Terry Pratchett (the Monstrous Reigament book was pretty good - but too much gender politics in it!).
I've been playing MH3U - I'd probably do a novel version of that.
I've been playing MH3U - I'd probably do a novel version of that.
Hey guys. Not much to report except we had a brownout/blackout [or "power outage" to all you non-Filipinos] yesterday, so in the sweltering heat we were all trooped outside, whistling fervently for wind [that's... kind of a thing here]. Power outages are good news when the [automated] election is less than a week away, so hooray for our ass-backward country!!!
Anyway, somehow Anomalies has gotten to chapter 5, and just about 300 words shy of 10k words. Given that book 1 was at 60k total [barring the inevitable rewrite/trimming/expansion] this is pretty long for 5 mostly short chapters. Also, my 'weird chapter names bug' hit me again, and chapter 5 if now memetically titled 'overly awkward dinner I', which is more horrifying given the thought there's gonna be an 'overly awkward dinner II' sometime later on. I'm sticking with it because, um, it kind of describes the chapter in a non-vague way, which is good... right?
Also, writing 'fluff' or 'lemons' [these are fanfic terms, btw] or... well, whatever they call those supposed to be sweet scenes between main character and main character's love interest, is overly tedious... except when you know you're writing it for a serious case of mood backlash later on, in which case, it's kind of fun. Somewhat disturbing, but fun. That's the reason for the 'Anomalies' title after all - shit hits the fan. And as you all know, I love writing those exact same parts.
So, with that over with... pardon my noobness, but what's MH3U? [hides in shame]
EDIT:
BTW, prob the best [throwaway] line I've ever written for a non-central character: "What, teenage hormones and stunted emotional capacities are my fault now?"
If it sounds like a jab at the target audience for 'mainstream literature' nowadays [read: Young Adult] that's because it is.
Anyway, somehow Anomalies has gotten to chapter 5, and just about 300 words shy of 10k words. Given that book 1 was at 60k total [barring the inevitable rewrite/trimming/expansion] this is pretty long for 5 mostly short chapters. Also, my 'weird chapter names bug' hit me again, and chapter 5 if now memetically titled 'overly awkward dinner I', which is more horrifying given the thought there's gonna be an 'overly awkward dinner II' sometime later on. I'm sticking with it because, um, it kind of describes the chapter in a non-vague way, which is good... right?
Also, writing 'fluff' or 'lemons' [these are fanfic terms, btw] or... well, whatever they call those supposed to be sweet scenes between main character and main character's love interest, is overly tedious... except when you know you're writing it for a serious case of mood backlash later on, in which case, it's kind of fun. Somewhat disturbing, but fun. That's the reason for the 'Anomalies' title after all - shit hits the fan. And as you all know, I love writing those exact same parts.
So, with that over with... pardon my noobness, but what's MH3U? [hides in shame]
EDIT:
BTW, prob the best [throwaway] line I've ever written for a non-central character: "What, teenage hormones and stunted emotional capacities are my fault now?"
If it sounds like a jab at the target audience for 'mainstream literature' nowadays [read: Young Adult] that's because it is.
I believe it stands for Monster Hunter 3 - United. Anyway, I just hit 26k words on my own main work. I'm running up on around 10k words on my secondary project.
@Shinigami357: You might consider posting your work on Fiction Press. There's tons of great writers there that could help you with feedback.
@Shinigami357: You might consider posting your work on Fiction Press. There's tons of great writers there that could help you with feedback.
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Sonic Angel Knight:
Or, I also heard that if you use flash memory, it can act as more "RAM" at least windows tell me when I stick a flash drive into it. -
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K3Nv2:
I can think of the design teams process another joystick and no audio or a joystick and mono audio -
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