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Creative Writing Share your fan fiction, stories, poems, essays, editorials, song lyrics, or any other related written work. All written must be your creation. Start a new thread, and keep replying to that thread as you add on more chapters. Anyone can join in at anytime.


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  #1  
Old 09-06-2008, 05:51 PM
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Default 524

524
by WorkThoseStripes
"Between love and madness lies obsession."
I've always enjoyed writing, since I was about five years old and I wrote a five page story about an ostrich. However, as I have grown older, my writing style has matured and I began writing a lot of my own, original work. It started with short stories, even the odd fan fic here and there, but my writing was never quite up to the task of being memorable, something that I could genuinely say that I was proud of. Over the past year, I've began to write a series of books, each different in so many ways, but with one common factor. I want to share with you one of those stories that is, by no means, finished, in fact I haven't really written much of it at all, so this is somewhat of an experiment for me. Luckily, with this particular series of books, you don't have to have read the ones that proceed it to understand the story.
Writing has, without doubt, something that keeps me going, in a sense and I'm quite happy to say that I have a boat load of imagination to fuel this 'obsession' of mine. It's something to do when there's nothing else, a way of letting out my feelings and a way calming me from any emotional highs I may experience.
One of the key themes of this particular story is obsession and the driving forces behind it. It's a fantasy story, so don't expect it to be set in a recognizable setting, but something that I've been aiming for with these series is to write a 'fantasy' that shows that, despite the sword fighting, the quests, the magic and the battles between good and evil, the people are exactly the same. I wanted to write a series of fantasy books that had a large chunk of realism thrown into them. Because, just because a story is set in another planet and there are heroes out to save the day, it doesn't mean things are going to run smoothly, or even end smoothly.
'Obsession' is just one of the things I have added into the story to give more or sense of realism and other books deal with completely different things. However, this particular installment is most certainly the closest I get to realism and, almost unfortunately, the most dark and tragic one.
You might think that I'm not doing this very well, that I should have at least written more, or at least have a name for the story, but, as I said, this is an experiment and, another theme of the story, may I add, is that you can't plan everything away and sometimes you're going to need to take a risk and do things without a plan. Of course, this may not work out well at all, but I want to try this experiment of mine.

In numerology, the numbers 524 can be translated as "dying isn't easy". Death is something that I find is extremely hard to write about, something that I feel isn't written about as truthfully as it could be. Now, I cannot claim to know what it's like to die, so I simply have my own opinion on what it must be like. I simply cannot imagine it to be a moment where all your cares are washed away, or a moment where you think about your life. In a lot of books, death is made out to be a strangely easy ordeal, where you finally feel at peace. However, I feel death is something a lot darker than that.

This is the story of three girls, Girl, Rin and Vega. Girl is a young girl without a single memory of her past, who has latched her hopes onto one man. Unknowingly, she becomes more and more attatched to this stranger, Dante Calin, and begins to obsess over him. He promises her that he is going to help her find out who she is and why she lost her memory, but, though Girl herself does not notice it, blinded by her love, Dante begins to act very strangely. The story of Rin is told through the eyes of Altair, a young man who is searching for his lost love. Many years ago, the leaders of the world decided to destroy a race of beings called 'Summoner's, fearing them and deciding that they were a threat to the rest of the world. All the Summoners were killed, executed, their race wiped out, except for one survivor, Rin. Altair tells the tale of himself and Rin and their life together as tehey cared for each other while running from a man who wished to use Rin's skills against her and keeping her secret hidden from the world. The third story is Vega's, a girl who has only a few hours left to live, having been sentenced to death for commiting a terrible crime. Vega's past life is muddled and confused and she is unable to rely or trust anything except for the death that waits for her in the morning.
The story of these three girls are very different and occur in different times. Rin's in the past, Girl's in the present and Vega's in the future. However, each story shares the theme of obsession and death and both Rin, Girl and Vega are linked, whether they remember or not.

I'm not entirely sure on the rating that I need to give this story, so it would be incredibly helpful if someone could point me in the right direction. The Prologue is up now and, I must admit, it was fairly rushed towards the end, so it could do with some work. Criticism is most welcomed because I enjoy having others help me with my work.
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Last edited by WorkThoseStripes; 10-04-2008 at 01:59 PM.
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Old 09-07-2008, 01:07 AM
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Default Re: Untitled

PROLOGUE
Colder than your Sun
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"Why do you persist in following me?"

A valid question, one that she could not easily answer. She looked away, fiddling nervously with her hands as she tried to formulate a suitable answer in her mind. An almost impossible task, as she knew no way of putting all of her feelings into the right words, and she felt increasingly stupid as the silence ebbed on, disturbed only by the soft sound of the rain as it fell from the dull, cloudy sky. Her eyes remained fixed on the rough, concrete pavement, unable to lift her head to stare look into the eyes of the man who stood before her. How could she explain it all to him? The hours spent searching for his name in directories under the cold light of the street lamp, building up the courage to go to the places where he might be, the feeling of hope when he was there and the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach when he wasn't. The final decision to talk to him, to say something, anything, yet, after following him in the shadows, it was he who was the first to speak.

She didn't know him.

Except one thing, one tiny detail that had captivated her in an instant. A seemingly insignificant detail, but to her it meant everything. A ring, blemished with smudged fingerprints and faint scratch marks. Attached to a pale hand, reflecting the light of the dull street lamps that lit the path away from the city center and towards the grottier side of the City, she could see the numbers 524 carved into it's side. Her gaze flickered towards the ring, lingering there, her focus suddenly pulled from her attempts to provide the man with an answer.

Only a few months ago now, she had awoken on a dusty, wooden floor, her head pounding with an indescribably pain and her vision blurred. Yet something, someone, had reached out their hand in kindness, a hand with a silver ring on, the numbers 524 etched upon it, and she had placed her own in that hand and felt herself pulled up onto her feet, her knees shaking as if she were a child who had just learned to stand upright. When her vision had finally managed to focus, whoever the hand belonged to had disappeared and she was left alone in what turned out to be an abandoned apartment in the same City which she stood in now.

She didn't know anything.

It would be foolish to think of all the questions that had gone through her mind, there were too many to list. Needless to say, she had no memory of anything before the blurry encounter with the helpful. No memory of who she was, what had happened to her, why she was there, nothing. But that, she figured, was how her story had to begin. Every person on this world would have a story, no matter how small or insignificant, it was a story that stood out among all the rest. This seemed to be the beginning to her story, a story to find some answers.

Her name was Girl.

Or, so it had been for the past few months. If she had ever had a name, she couldn't remember it, but a name seemed so unimportant to her when looking at the big picture, so, when people asked who was, she gave herself a simple name, a plain name, an ugly name. Girl. The next few months she had dedicated herself to finding some answers, but she had no idea where to begin. She had nothing to go by, no leads whatsoever, and even if she did she assumed that she wouldn't have known what to do with it anyway. All she had was a stranger, a ring and the numbers 524. She knew she had to find the owner of the ring, but how could she do something like that without some unlikely coincidence?

So she did nothing for weeks, going mad day by day at the thought of living a life without a true identity. It consumed her, her mind wandering, trying to pry open her memory. She wanted to know where she came from, who her family and friends were, what she did for a living. This person, this person with the ring, he knew, he had to know. She had to find him.

She needed him.

The human mind is a tricky thing, something that even after years of learning and studying one can never fully understand. In all those weeks, craving for something, anything to help her, her mind had been unable to prove itself useful, either through intelligence or simply the sudden reappearance of her lost memories. She couldn't take it anymore; she couldn't live knowing that she didn't really exist anymore, that she was no one. There was only one way out, death. So she found herself standing on the rooftop, almost peacefully, a feeling of serenity washing over her as she resigned herself to her fate. In this instant, it came to her, the lead she had so desperately searched for her. In only a few moments, she would be free from the torture that her life had become. Only a few more moments.

Then came that unlikely coincidence that she had never believed would come. She realized that if this sudden occurrence had come only second later, she would be dead and she saw now just how much death frightened her. The thought that she would die, unnoticed by anyone, scared her and she was given a new urge to discover her own existence. What Girl remembered was a name and, while this wasn't a big piece of information, it gave her a new sense of purpose and her search was renewed.

Dante Calin.

It had been whispered and, if Girl had known better, she may have read deeper into the ounce of fear that was detectable in the whisperers' voice. The voice itself was one that she did not recognize and it did not awaken any further memories that remained hidden in her mind. All she'd had was a stranger, a ring and the numbers 524, but now she had a name as well. She wasn't entirely sure on the connection that the name and the stranger had, but she reasoned that, even if they were two separate people, there was a chance that they would both be able to help her. If this Dante Calin was the man who wore the ring, then she could also thank him, for it seemed that he had shown great kindness on the day of forgotten events.

The name had led her to the man before her. He was young; she would even say that he was a similar age to her own if she knew her own. He was slightly taller than her and, now that was standing a little closer to him, she felt small, shy and embarrassed, any courage that she had mustered previously having simply slipped away before his presence. He stood with his back to her, so she was unable to see his face and she wondered how he had noticed her there without looking behind him, for she had done her best to keep as quiet as possible in her pursuit. She figured that the man was a business man and fairly wealthy as well, due to the expensive looking suit he wore. His hair, however, was far from the well groomed look that she had seen other business men wear, and was instead scruffy, a dark brown in colour. His hair destroyed the sophisticated look his clothing gave him and Girl couldn’t quite work him out.

It suddenly occurred to her that it had been a while since the man had questioned her and her nervousness kicked back in. She tried to form words with her mouth, but soon discovered that she was unable to speak. Now that she here, so close to finding out the answers that she craved for, so close to this man, this Dante Calin, she was speechless. Could it be that he would simply walk on and her chance would be taken away? This was her only chance; she couldn't simply remain silent, allowing her nerves to get the better of her. She stuttered, trying to come up with something to say, something to end this increasingly uncomfortable silence.

"I..." she managed to say, her voice slightly croaky from a lack of use.

The man's head turned and she was given a glimpse of his face. There was no denying that he was an attractive young man, dark brown eyes to match his hair, a light complexion and well defined features. He was frowning slightly, but in no way did it detract from his good looks. His eyes, however, were cold and calculating, fixated upon her. She felt as she was tiny, and she blushed, looking back to the floor again, unable to bear looking into those eyes. She was a little scared now, a little scared that, all alone in this deserted street, she may get hurt, or he may simply walk away from her and she would loose everything.

She heard footsteps, slowly approaching where she stood and then she saw a shadow appear on the ground which she stared at. Then she felt warm hands grip gently onto her shoulders, as if the man feared that she may fall over any moment and had to support her. His hands were so warm and that warmth spread throughout all her body. Timidly, she lifted her gaze again. He had moved closer to her, and she felt slightly awkward and embarrassed at their closeness. She was blushing again, but there was no way that she could hide her face when they were this close and she simply prayed that it was too dark for him to notice. His face no longer held the frown that it had before, and his eyes had grown softer, warmer.

She trusted him.

"It's okay," he spoke softly, smiling a little.

She attempted a smile back, but she wasn't sure that it was noticeable. So many feelings were rushing through her right now that she was afraid that, if she allowed herself to smile, they would all come pouring out at once. He was going to help her, he was going to support her, she knew it. Finally, she was going to find out who she was. Finally, things were going to become clear. This man was her savior, he was her hero, for her was going to help her free herself from the darkness that had consumed her. She could feel tears now, threatening show her up in this moment. Maybe the man saw, maybe he understood what she was going through, for he pulled her closer towards him and she felt his arms wrap around her.

"It's okay," he repeated, and she knew that it was, she knew that everything was gonig to be okay now.

Because of him.

She let herself cry while he couldn't see her face that was now buried into his shirt, but silently, so that he couldn't hear. She didn't want him to see how vulnerable she had become, how lost she was, how afraid. She allowed him to hold her, because she felt so safe in his embrace, she didn't want to let go. For the past few months she had been no one, but this man was going to change that, he was going to give her an identity. He was going to give her a life.

She loved him.

The man smiled.
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Last edited by WorkThoseStripes; 09-30-2008 at 03:00 PM.
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Old 09-07-2008, 05:37 AM
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Default Re: Untitled

This certainly has a tantalizing beginning--I can say that much. Your writing is quite good, and you balance sentence structure and art carefully, managing to add a flare in style to the varying lengths of each separate thought. For a first chapter, you looked quite deeply into the human soul--the only downside to a writing style like this... is the possibility that the material will dwindle. It's strenuous to keep up, but rewarding--very much so. Point being, I'm liking the style so far, and the emotions Girl is feeling are fascinating in that 'train-wreck' sort of way, minus the horrid circumstances that the 'train-wreck' analogy is generally directed towards.

As far as punctuation goes, you had a few semi-colon mishaps and I recall an apostraphe error somewhere around there (I'll point them out, if you like), but everything else is decent. You certainly take an artistic liberty with your commas without actually murdering them, which is a great skill to have.

On to actual criticism.

Well, at this point, I don't think I can give any. That's a good thing--the only time I give criticism early on in a piece is when the author does something horribly wrong. You probably won't have any half-decent constructive criticsm from me until... chapter seven, mayhaps.

Okay. Gushing time.

I love your concept. I'm not just saying that; 'love' is not a term I throw around, especially when referring to writing. Blergh. Obsession is one of my all-time favorite story veins, because it can account for so much insanity without actually making any logical sense to anyone but the obsessee.... It's such an enrapturing emotion to read when written properly. Obsession can effectively fuel every single one of the prominent emotions of passion, which makes it a beautiful, tragic thing all on its own.

I'm hoping for a whole slew of similarly amazing threads, which I've already seen with the silver ring, the number, the voice and the name. My Booky-Sense tells me that you're not done with them yet. >.>

Lending realism to fantasy is just... a concept that pulls me in. I'll definitely be back for another read.

~IGC t DM+
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Old 09-07-2008, 10:06 AM
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Default Re: 524

Oh my...

First off, I'd like to offer my congratulations. From the moment I set eyes on the beginning of the piece, right until the end of the Prologue, I really couldn't take my eyes away. And coming from me, that's a great achievement, considering that I have a rather short attention span. Your writing, however, is immensely captivating, and coupled with the rather unique but familiar theme, you've already drawn me in and have me wanting eagerly for more.

Like IGC said, you've really gone deep into the human soul, and while I certainly do enjoy reading works like that, do be careful that you don't run out of ideas or beliefs too early into the story. Beyond that, the only real problems I found were that one or two of your sentences were a bit too long. Now, I, myself, have nothing against long sentences – using a fair few myself –, but perhaps if you were to shorten a few, then it would add to the sort of...worried voice that your piece has started off in. I also noticed one incident where your choice of word was maybe not the best, but it certainly does get across what you were trying to say. Lemme go find it...

Quote:
Only a few moths ago now, a few months since she had awoken on a dusty, wooden floor, her head banging with an indescribable pain and her vision blurred.
Perhaps "banging" isn't the right word to use in that situation, as it gives the impression that Girl is physically beating her head against said "indescribable pain". In my eyes, a word like "throbbing", "pounding", or "searing" (depending on the sort of pain that Girl was feeling) would work better, but I won't tell you to change it. It is your piece after all.

Enough of that, however. I really love what I've read so far. Like IGC said again (damn, she seems to be able to read my mind) "love" is not a word I use casually with regard to reviewing stories, and so it shows how much your piece has actually captivated me.

I've always been a sucker for stories where nothing is revealed at the beginning, and so am quite interested in seeing how all of this fits into place. I'd also like to compliment you on your use of seemingly insignificant things all thrown in together, creating a mystic air to the story so far.

Keep up the good work, WTS. You've found yourself another reader.

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Old 09-07-2008, 10:35 AM
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Default Re: 524

Thankyou, iplaygc and Deathspector. I'm happy that I've managed to write something that people have enjoyed.
As for criticism, you two have definitely helped. I'll admit, that when I wrote the word banging I was thinking that it wasn't exactly the best word I could use, but my mind was deciding not to give me a better one.
I'll re-run it through word (because I used FireFox which only points out spelling errors, which would be why I don't notice any punctuation errors), but it would be great if you could point out some of the sentences that don't quite fit, the long ones you mentioned. Things like that tend to happen with me though, if I write something then stop, it usually comes out in an oh-so-slightly different style than before, I have to work on it.
I am going to do a fix up of the Prologue before I continue on with Chapter One anyway, because I wrote the ends of the Prologue in a rushed way, so I'm just going to do little touch ups here and there.
Other than that, I should, hopefully, have a Chapter One by next week.
Once again, thankyou. :)

EDIT: I have actually put in an edit or two now and I'm going to soon begin starting Chapter One. In my head I've sorted out the base details for the direction in which the story is going to take, so I'm not writing as blindly as I was. :P
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Last edited by WorkThoseStripes; 09-07-2008 at 03:34 PM.
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Old 09-10-2008, 01:29 PM
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Default Re: 524

Well, I know you asked me to show you the long sentences that don't fit, but I've just seen a sentence that...well, isn't really a sentence. Hang on, let me explain it to you. Here's what you wrote:

Quote:
Only a few moths ago now, a few months since she had awoken on a dusty, wooden floor, her head pounding with an indescribable pain and her vision blurred.
That's really a fragment more than a sentence. To make it into a sentence you may have to add on to the end what exactly happened the few months ago, or change the sentence itself. Something like this might work:

Quote:
Only a few months ago now, she had awoken on a dusty, wooden floor, her head pounding with an indescribably pain and her vision blurred.
Or:

Quote:
Only a few moths ago now, a few months since she had awoken on a dusty, wooden floor, her head pounding with an indescribable pain and her vision blurred, she had found...
I'd suggest the first change, but it's up to you. I just thought I'd point that out. =)

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Old 09-10-2008, 01:54 PM
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Default Re: 524

Thanks for that one. I think it was the kind of sentence that sounded right when I read it to myself, but, obviously not to other people. Plus, now I look at it, it is a bit odd sounding. :P

I've written a bit of Chapter 1 now, but not all of it. As I said before, will probobly take me a week to make it good enough to put up. It's probobly going to be a bit of a slow chapter though. I mean, stuff happens, but not much plot wise.
I always take a while to write these sort of chapters. P:
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Old 09-30-2008, 04:00 PM
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Default Re: 524

Chapter One
"Lend Me Your Wings"
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I have accepted death, I am not afraid.

When I think about these past few months, I realize that I have never once feared death, but rather, I have feared life. Life, it is so unpredictable, it is random and confused and whatever faith in it he had inspired within me is gone now. No, it is not thoughts of death that have plagued me in my sleep, but thoughts of what life may bring me in the morning. Yet, on this final night, I have been gifted with certainty, for I know what will come with the rising of the sun. I shall embrace this irrefutable truth and, when morning comes, I shall walk down the sure path of death.

In my prison cell, there are writings on the wall, scratched in so that all of the unfortunate may read the please of those before them. They ask for forgiveness, they asked to be saved. Prayers to God and messages to loved ones, but the writings on the wall will never be read by anyone other than those who will soon share a similar fate to writer. I do think I can explain myself when I say that I am glad that I will not be saved, or rather, that I do not want to be saved. For me, there is nothing which I need rescuing from. Tomorrow I shall be rescued from uncertainty. I would have it no other way.

They put a collar around my neck, to suppress me, for they fear me, they fear what I can do. They should not worry, for even if I could escape, I would not. It is funny though, that they would use the collar made by my ancestors against me, that my past would be my downfall. It is uncomfortable, but I would think that I deserve at least a little discomfort before I am freed.

I believe that I deserve this.

I want to say that I hate myself, for everything I have done, all the consequences of my foolish actions, but I can't because I still haven't worked out who I am. I am a stranger to myself and these past few months have been full of strangers. Surely, I cannot hate someone I do not know? Then again, I loved someone I did not know.

Loved?

No, maybe I still love him, or maybe I never did, I cannot be certain anymore. I am so lost and confused. I cannot tell the truth from the lies, I cannot tell one emotion from another, I cannot tell anything. I have traveled so far to learn, but I have found nothing. Or maybe I did, maybe the truth was kept hidden from me. Who can say whether anything these people have told me is true or false, who can I rely on to be honest with me?

I cannot even rely on myself.

Soon I shall escape this all. Soon I shall-

"Vega."

My name. Strange that it should shock me so much to hear my own name, but I have long since abandoned names for they too have failed me. I am scared to look towards the owner of the voice at first, for the owner may bring with him what I fear. Has the sentence been brought forward, am I to die sooner than expected? Please, I beg, not knowing who I am sending my thoughts to, do not take away my certainty. I feel him, for it was a man's voice, get closer to me, crouching down next to where I sit upon the cold, cobbled floor. He is close, his lips almost touching my ear.

"I could stop this," he says, his breath tickling my skin.

My eyes widen for a split second and I am unable to understand what it is he is telling me and why he would say it. This man, like every other who knew what I had done, should hate me, no, I knew he hated me. Why would he offer to stop this, why would he want to? But, as soon as he said it, I couldn't help but think what it would be like if I kept on living. Maybe things would change? Maybe I would learn. Maybe-

"Just kidding."

No, no! I had accepted death, I was ready, but now! He had lit a small flame of hope within me, hope for life and answers and had shattered it within an instant. No, please no. I am crying, I can't stop and, at the end, I realize that I am weak and I am afraid. He had come to hurt me, this man had every intention of making me fearful. How could someone be so cruel? I had been so ready, so ready for death. There were no regrets, I was not afraid. But now, now I-

"You see," the man said, "We can break you."

-I was broken.

I look up at him, my eyes red and sore, full of tears, full of fear. He looks back at me and he laughs. Not a loud laugh, not one full with cheer, but a small chuckle, one that told me that he was proud of himself, that all he had wanted when he entered that room was to see me break. He wipes away my tears with his thumb, telling me not to cry in a mocking and soothing voice. He is smiling, he is laughing at me. I want to lash out at him, but I can't. I wish that I could rip off this collar and show him that I was not one to be messed around with, but I can't.

The man stands up and walks towards the door and I watch him go, I watch him walk the path towards life and happiness. He turns at the door and throws something at me, something small. It lands not so far from me and my eyes fall upon it with a mixture of grief and shock. It is a ring, it is the ring, the numbers 524 etched upon it. I desperately grab it, holding it towards my heart and then placing it upon my finger. This ring that represents so much for me. Myself, my love, my past and my future. I realize, that this ring has brought me here, that this ring is the reason that I am crying and the reason why my tears will soon stop in a matter of hours. However, I cannot bring myself to part with it. I have relied on it for so long. It must be with me tomorrow, so that people know, so that people understand that you cannot trust anyone.

I cannot bring myself to accept death, I am so afraid.

Oh please, those with the confidence I lack, those with a will to fight back and those with faith, hear me. For my last act, I need your assistance.

I grab a sharp stone, left in the corner of the cell, perhaps on purpose so that the writers can leave their message. I hold it my hand, tightly and painfully, wishing that I had the strength to put it down where it would wait for the next of the sentenced. I cannot. I etch my words into the wall.

Lend me your wings.

No, dying is never easy.

Death is never sure.


OOC: Okay, finall a new chapter, though it is short. A little different than what I was originally going to do, but I think that this worked best for what I have in mind. Chapters like this will always be a tad shorter than the rest and I put them in a different front to differentiate them from the rest of the story. It'll make sense, you'll see.
Oh and be careful before making connections to the Prologue, things are not what they may seem. Mwahaha.
*cough*
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Beauty and the Somewhat Beast
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Last edited by WorkThoseStripes; 10-02-2008 at 10:52 PM.
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  #9  
Old 10-02-2008, 07:40 PM
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Default Re: 524

That was...powerful.

I think this style of writing that you've chosen, this very emotion and character-oriented style of writing is really something that works well for you. You seem to understand how it works, and how to make your readers understand it as well. It takes skill, and you have it.

The plot is still hidden, and I don't know what's happening much beyond the fact that Girl is perhaps Vega? And she's going to die...hmm. Still, very interesting. I'll be keeping an eye out for your next installment.

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Old 10-02-2008, 10:48 PM
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Default Re: 524

I cannot tell you whether you are right or wrong, or I might spoilt it. P:
Thanks for the comments, makes me feel all awesome and stuff. ;D
With this Chapter I was trying to go for a completely different feel from the first. While both girls are worried and confused, Girl's story is more concentrated on her attatchment to Dante, whereas with Vega I'm trying to put her across as someone slightly more mentally unstable. It's hard to explain really, I suck at explaining. With Girl, she had no memory at all, but with Vega, she doens't have her memory exactly, but she has a lot more understanding of what's going on. However, that understanding has caused her to go a bit insane and she had lost all faith.
Heh, wonder if that made sense.

Ooh, I added in a proper blurb on the first post now. I got rid of the old stinky one.
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Beauty and the Somewhat Beast
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Done @ 1380
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Old 10-04-2008, 10:58 AM
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Default Re: 524

This is absolutely riveting.

Not only are you presenting your characters in an emotionally charged, heavy-handed--meaning 'harsh,' 'psychologically twisted yet still accurate' and 'smack-you-in-the-face-blunt' rather than clumsy--style, but you're focusing, once again, on... obsession, which just-so-happens to be my favorite literary emotion (it was bumped up to first after an unfortunate run-in with this nasty piece about sadness and guilt that was so maudlin I almost hurled). At this point, it seems that you are dealing with characters who are deluding themselves by attempting to believe that they are not deluded without even realizing that they are doing so, which is just so... fun to read.

The entire concept is, to use Deathspector's word, powerful. (The problem with being able to read his mind is that if he posts first, he ends up looking better than me xD) I want to read moar.

~IGC t DM+
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Old 10-04-2008, 12:33 PM
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Default Re: 524

Quote:
Originally Posted by Scourge of Nemo View Post
The entire concept is, to use Deathspector's word, powerful. (The problem with being able to read his mind is that if he posts first, he ends up looking better than me xD) I want to read moar.
Lol. Yes, well, you commented first the last time, so we're even? xP

Oh, and WTS, you have inspired me. I dunno where that inspiration is going, but at the moment it's just floating randomly in my head...

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