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| Critics Wanted!; A great novel begins | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 9 2005, 12:52 PM (446 Views) | |
| Ignia | Jul 9 2005, 12:52 PM Post #1 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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I am well known for taking criticism badly, so lets practice! Here is the beginning to my first novel and I want you to be brutal! Constructivly brutal but brutal nonetheless. I don't really want help with grammar and the such, what I need is comments on the actual writing, for example: I put no dialogue in the prologue because I thought it took away from the surreal effect, but it kinda grates on my nerves since I ROCK with dialogue. Also do I need more descriptions of the races or is it too much already and the story should bring it into the light? Things like that. Be constructive as well; tell me what you didn't like, but also tell me what you liked so I know what to do more of or in what direction to head. Thanks a ton and, well, enjoy! Chapter 0 Prologue: The Wolfess The music was thunder with a cadence, explosions of sound whipping in a storm of chaos. Screams and electronic chords mashed in metallic resonance like angered waves crashing against shadowed rocks. Streaks of light illuminated the creatures below bringing surreal nightmares to life. Flashing strobes froze the gruesome sight for a moment in time, vanishing just to reappear again. Neon colors whipped about, and above crackling blue electricity leapt from metal ball to metal ball extended from the ceiling. In raised cages, on colossal subwoofers, and in the rafters as well as filling the floor, the nightmares surged to the beat, the explosive bass pounding violently within their chests. These nightmares were demons and apparitions, two intelligent races, coexisting in all but peace, their powers as immense as their differences. While demons take any shape feasible and wield energy fused with their soul, apparitions are humanoid with the trait of an animal and attack with one of the four elemental powers. Greed and selfishness commands the two races, forcing them into constant battles of power and will. Demons commonly ally with one another due to their weakness in the shadow of apparitions, but any alliance created of this world would be fragile, often ending in treachery. In such a world killing is a daily necessity if not habit or pastime. Though as a society demons and apparitions are cruel and satanic, but the intelligent mind is more complicated than black and white ideals, and evil cannot exist with out a counterbalance, though the two often intertwine in the networking of one brain. Off, past the dance floor was a dim bar, also crowded beyond capacity, where the cause and effect of drinking and brawling is mashed into the potent poisons consumed at large. Here, blood spilt in drinks is a favor. One such creature sat off to the side, his black wings folded against his bare back, enjoying the chaos around him. He watched the crowd with sharp, violet eyes. One individual held his attention, as an elk holds a hungry mountain lion’s. Throughout the night he watched her with much interest. He observed everything—the way she danced within the crowd, the way she acted within her companions, even the way she drank, as if to ease a pain within herself. The predator waited patiently for his prey to confirm his suspicions. When he was sure, and no sooner, he would attack. Most of the way across the club, sitting around a table of drinks, shrouded in drugged smoke, sat the prey and her renegade friends. One such friend was slumped back in the chair, an unflappable glower radiating over the rim of her drink. She tossed her head at the winged apparition, bringing her friends attention to the predator. The second companion made a comment on how he had been watching them all night. The prey only snorted though, retorting that he had been watching them all week. But she felt no fear of the defensive role, for she had a way of turning the hunter into the hunted. The prey grinned, her amber eyes flashing. Intuition perked, she looked to the door and her eyes lost their malicious spark. She stood and, her silver wolf tail swishing, she sauntered to the object of her affection. He was a lean apparition who smiled wryly as she approached. She gave him a secretive half smile and he put his hands on her waist, but when he leaned down to kiss her she pulled away slightly. With a subdued frown she leaned up and pressed her lips to his jaw near his ear, and he began caressing her neck. The male companion back at the table cursed at the sight of her new loach. He knew her taking ‘lovers’ only made life more difficult. The wolf apparition only let him caress for a moment, then, after running her fingers through his hair, she led him back to her friends. She sat beside him, leting her shoulder overlap his so that her velvety skin rested in the soft white rabbit fur that coated his torso. They drank and talked, but soon she pulled him to the dance floor, and the night was lost in the screaming, pounding music. Like all her other men, the rabbit apparition could not keep up with the wolf. She wielded an unmatchable vivacity that pulsed with confidence. Her electric energy trapped every moment, sweetening it to its utmost potential, all of which became beautiful and desirable when her natural rhythm was set to music. Even though they never knew the true danger they were in, only the most courageous had the honor of her kiss. He would whisper into the wolf ears atop her head, but she would only laugh and never answer his infatuations. Finally, a few hours before dawn he coaxed her from the club, then he had to all but carry her home. And once he had brushed the cloth from her body it took long enticing---and all the time she never let her lips touch his. When the sky was long brightened with the fingers of dawn she awoke to impalpable blackness. The wolf apparition sat straight up her hand on the skin of her chest. Dark realization soaked into her soul, and she timidly looked to the body beside her. She whispered his name as if calling him from a harmless sleep. The word left her lips only to linger in the air above the cold corpse. *** Though the weeks of watching did not make the predator careless, he was undoubtedly bored as he sat in the demonic club night after night. Not once had she gotten into a fight as most to all the other demons and apparitions made a habit of. Just once if she would flaunt her powers he would know she wasn’t the one, but her chastity from participation in the usual melee made him more suspicious that she was an oddity of nature. Every demon and apparition knows the legends of the ruthless elemental apparition of fire. Their fire, created from their body rather than a manipulation of the world, would make them so much more powerful than any other creature alive, but they are such a rarity that even their presence defies nature. New stories spoke of a fire apparition, as powerful as them all, that was fatally wounded. Two blades, side by side pierced the apparition to where the wound could not be sewn. Though any mortal would die from blood loss or infection at least, this mortal was granted life, but adjacent scars, black as abyss, remained on her flesh as a signal to all that death is to be defied. Tonight as the predator sat at the bar he was finally again interested. She was acting different; she was no less confident but tonight she looked murderous. When her companions talked she did not answer, as the club danced she sat drinking and drinking. But the most unusual of all, she never once smiled. Before she was completely unflappable, but tonight- tonight he knew he would see her powers. Finally half way through the night a fight arose near the wolf apparition. As wind and demon energy swirled only feet away from her she never flinched. The predator gaped. She was completely unattached from the world. And then a scaly demon arm, ripped from its body fell in her lap splattering emerald blood everywhere. No jump, no gasp rippled her flesh. She merely took the clawed arm in her left hand, her empty glass in her right. As the wind apparition responsible for the arm turned she tossed the glass up like a ball in her hand and when it landed lightly back in her palm she hurled it at the back of his head. The glass shattering above his shoulders made him whirl about. He sneered at her small stature and her unemotional face. And yet, though her body looked frail her personality rivaled diamonds. Sadly too arrogant to live, the wind apparition threw back his head and laughed. And she smiled. A calm, matter-of-fact, yet murderous smile, one which the predator had never before seen. And in the next moment the wind apparition was not laughing but chocking on blood from the demon nails speared through his throat. To his knees then the floor he fell, death swirling over his eyes. She stepped over the body and into the open, beckoning the crowd to try their abilities over her. A spear of stone was silently pulled from the floor behind her and she did not let on how she knew, but as it flew for her she swiveled about like a dancer and caught the frozen weapon. She threw it back to the owner who received it much less gracefully. Four demons immediately jumped her, the first of which she kneed in his furred stomach and grabbed by the throat. With a violent twist she ran his horns into the second demon’s back. The other two backed away to gather energy. She back flipped landing her knees on the shoulders of one and gripping his head like a vice she flipped again pulling the demon over her to slam face first into the stone floor. The wolfess dodged the demonic energy from the last standing and was upon him. She planted her fist in his stomach and when he grabbed for her she wrenched his spiked arm painfully against the joint and with a thrust dislocated it. She calmly took a step back as the demon was distracted by pain. With a circle sweep caught his head making him crash into the floor. She pulled him to her with her foot, propping his head against one foot, and rapping his body around the other, and with an acute snap she broke his back. The crowd circled around her cheered as she kicked the body away. She ordered a drink and many offered to pay. But off a ways one was not as ecstatic about the fight. His frustration surging the winged apparition broke his glass in his fist and threw the shards to the floor. Knowing she was no fool, the predator decided he would have to draw her outside and away from a crowd to get her to reveal her element. But at that moment she caught his eye, and held it. Her face was emotionless- she looked like the sky slated by clouds, but her eyes- her eyes were the sun stabbing through the clouds, so alive with murder they burned his retina. For a moment separate from life and beyond, she stole his thought and an icy hand gripped his heart and there began to melt sending tickles of frigid water through his veins. His throat closed as her sight engulfed him. She blinked her amber eyes and looked away, but the predator could not do the same. He stared at the back of her head, at the thin hair that draped over her back and shoulders like fine silk threads. Slowly her eyes faded from the blackness in his memory and he regained mobility. He stood, his feet feeling like lead. Pushing the attacking questions aside he made his way to the door, and out to wait for death herself to join him. Chapter 1 Poison The night air was still, but the immense cold did not bother the winged apparition. Nevertheless his wings ruffled with a slight shiver and his pointed apparition ears rang with the macro-silence. He waited in the penumbra of the alley. She would follow- he had seen it in her eyes. She was asking him to leave, no, not asking but commanding him. “What do you want with me?” He jumped slightly, swerving around to aim at the short apparition, his heart pounding in his throat. “How did she get behind me?” The winged apparition pushed the thought aside. She glared, sauntering out from a deeper darkness. “Aim well,” her amber eyes flashed, and her wolf tail swished with the inverse cadence as her hips, “because I doubt a little ice dagger will do me much harm.” His heart pulsed, and the dagger soared. Faster than thought she was out of harms way dodging to his right—it was what he had been counting on. Like a black streak he was upon her just as the dagger was upon thin air. A frigid blade materialized into his hand as he seized his prey and pressed it to her fleshy throat. She could have escaped, but all the same she chose to play his game. He held her firmly and looked up and down her arms, but found no scars. He pulled her close, pressing her to his chest but was struck by an added effect. Time felt like a waiting forest, frozen to the last bough; her hair smelled of sharp wood smoke, and he could feel her abdomen under his hand rise and fall with every breath. He forgot about the scars as he gazed upon her slender neck. He let his eyes slide down to her shoulder. His gaze meandered down her chest, and down between her- “That’s it!” Two scars, impossibly close together were implanted upon her breastbone. “How could she have survived such a wound?” His mind swam with questions. “The blades must have hit her heart, but how would she not be killed upon impact? Is there some secret fire apparitions hide? Could that be the answer of the black scars?” Endless possibilities flooded into his mind. Thus with all the questions he barely noticed her velvety lip brush his. “NO!” He pushed her away, bringing the back of his hand to his mouth. “I know what your kiss can do to me.” He spat. “Keep back if you want to live.” “Ha!” She ran for him. He threw daggers of ice, and she leapt into the air. She came down right over him, planting her fist. He stumbled back from the force, at the same time gathering moisture in his hand. It froze, crystallizing out into a hand-and-a-half sword. The threads of ice wove themselves about like a Celtic knot entrapping air within. The air chilled and became dense causing a vacuum that would draw the sword cleanly through his victim. He thrust the sword forward and slashed it down. The wolf apparition leapt back, letting the sword miss her by inches. He kept slashing toward her, trying to keep her from getting close. But, she would not let him set limits. She leaned back as the sword swung over her and the blade of her arm met the inside of his. The sword flew from his grip and she attacked with the force of a wildfire. With a shock of adrenaline, he rolled out of the way, dodging her by the thickness of a breath. She turned one way, so he lunged the other and threw a syringe like the ice. It sank deep in between her scapula and spine. “What the-” She pulled it from her flesh and raised an eyebrow. She threw it at the feet of its former handler. “You think that— that couldn’t sedate a squirrel—is going to stop me?” She laughed at him maliciously, stepping toward him. “Amateu-” She stopped suddenly her heart beginning to pulse at a painful rate. The Pandora’s Box that she kept locked inside her mind was unwillingly opened. Demonic emotions flooded her being; anger, hatred, depression all attacked her soul tearing it apart in a battle for supremacy. “Ngh!” She staggered, putting a hand to her head. Clenching her teeth she doubled over, pain webbing throughout her quaking body, her breath quickly becoming labored. She gazed up at the dark apparition. “What have you done to me?” |
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| Sigfried | Jul 9 2005, 01:00 PM Post #2 |
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Objection!!!
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i see some problems more in the structure than the content: -separate the text, use double space between paragraphs -use this "-" to make a difference between whos talking, specially when there are more than 2 people in the dialog -in the prologue, try to make it more plain descriptive than subjective, it helps to gave a better understanding in the context and background of the story thats it for now
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| neko_aku | Jul 10 2005, 08:32 AM Post #3 |
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Lyl Daelyri Lusiud
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i got confused in the begining. but it was good all around. i like it continue writing
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| Ignia | Jul 11 2005, 04:45 AM Post #4 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Thanks both! Yeah, the reason I posted this part was because it's the weakest, and the beginning CANT be so weak. You're completely right about being less subjective, Sigfried. I was thinking the same thing, but I really needed some confirmation (I've already rewritten a good bit of the beginning since I put this up
)Neko, what confused you? Can you be specific? I would really like to hear, so feel free to completely rip the thing apart! Like I said, be brutal! And, Shrike, where the VITZ are you?! I put this up mostly for you! Vitzin' boyscouts
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| Shrike | Jul 11 2005, 12:23 PM Post #5 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Hey, you leave the Boy Scouts out of this! <_< They had nothing to do with it. I was out of town, I couldn't help it. As for the story, it looks pretty good. Maybe a little too much imagery in the first part, I had a little trouble following it. I had to read a little farther to understand that they were in a club. Of course, once I understood where the scene was taking place, the imagery was pretty cool. One more thing: it is kinda confusing when you're describing the scene in the club and then all of the sudden you're talking about the relationship between demon and apparition. It works in a sense, but it might be better if you separated the two. Maybe this was what neko was talking about. I like how you've invented two totally new races for your world. It helps to make the magic a more fundamental part of your universe if everyone in it wields it! And you're really good at making the scenes last. Myself, I'm not so good at putting so much detail into the settings of my stories, I think you guys have mentioned this. I already know what I think it should be like in my head, and I'm not so good at bringing it out, but you obviously dont have that problem. So if that ice demon guy is kissed by a fire apparition, them being opposite elements Im guessing she'd melt him or something? Cool. You should put in a scene like that. Ok, I want to vitzin' read some more o' this vitzin' story! Vitzin' mother-vitzer! :lol:
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| neko_aku | Jul 11 2005, 02:53 PM Post #6 |
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Lyl Daelyri Lusiud
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its exactly what shrike says. it was a little confusing and the rabbit man i got confused a that part because its not extactly clear what happns to him. im guessing that ist explained later? but its not bad it just needs to be cleaned up and the prolog needs to be made more clear. i had to consentrate when i was reading the begining. |
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| Ignia | Jul 11 2005, 03:06 PM Post #7 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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KI!!! (high pitched squeal of pure happiness) Thanks! I try If that description is the only thing confusing you guys then I'm in good shape; I already fixed this part after Sigfried's post! Like I said, I knew it was weak. And about the kiss, it's not because Ave (you don't miss a beat; I never metioned his name in this thread!) is a ice apparition, it's because Ignia (the wolfess) is a fire apparition. They are a legendary race that never interact with the rest of the world. Their kiss affects all apparitions and all demons the same. They often use it as a defense, but sometimes it just makes life difficult, for example when Ave falls in lust... (Ignia has recovered from the poison and Ave, now, in a way is her captive) The sky was a beautiful slate in Ave’s eyes. Like the river and mountains, Ave embraced the cool rain. It was life giving and essential to his elemental energy. Water was safety and a tactical advantage. “And soon,” Ave thought, “I will have the Erinyes and all the power in the world will be mine.” His eyes softened, and he resumed looking out into the forest. The spring leaves shook from the droplets, and dark moss on the ground and bright moss on the trees became vibrant, and fungi clinging to rotted logs kept closed making them look like yellow buttons. No creature braved the pounding rain, and flashing lightning, but the forest was alive in downpour, and so was he. He watched the world, and in doing so he looked down, his eyes falling upon and stopping on the wolfess. She was lying limp, her head resting on the root of a large hickory tree, the rock to her back. She looked dead the way she lay with her palms up and her elbows slightly bent. Her breaths were gentle and sluggish. Her eyes were glazed, watching nothingness. Her overall state worried him. He knelt beside her and lifted her eyelid. “Nggh…” she groaned angrily, turning her head up and away from him as she waved his hand from her face. The strands of her hair clung to her cheeks and slender neck. Teardrops of water trickled down her white flesh. Her full lips looked like velvet petals. He wanted to know their touch, like kissing a rose’s bloom. He wanted to know her smell like breathing the warmth of the sun. “Flumen possum audire,” a voice sang in his head as he leaned close. “Scatet per mea solmnia…” he whispered as his lips brushed hers. Ignia balanced on the edge of a dream. She felt warmth spread throughout her body. Embracing him unconsciously she wove her fingers through his cold hair. Lust overtaking Ave, his hand brushed her body, waking the wolfess. She sat up shocked and suddenly Ave’s breath would not come. Magma surged in the pit of his gut. Ignia saw Ave doubling over, his face scrunched in excruciating pain. She touched her lips realizing she hadn’t been dreaming. She cursed, scooping Ave’s fevered head into her arms. “Just wait it out,” she urged. “It’s not fatal; you just have to wait it out!” But Ave couldn’t hear her for the roar of the flaming blood in his ears. His veins were hot iron rods beneath his skin. His lungs screamed but air would not enter nor escape. He writhed in the rain but the coldness of the water did not penetrate the skin and wasn’t near enough to cool the surging flames in his marrow. Ave knew this pain. He knew no amount of his elemental ice could seer the flame. And he knew he’d brought this onto himself. In an instant a flood of icy air rushed into his lungs but the pain only increased as the magma boiled the breath until it cascaded out of him. Ave’s colossal screech melded with the roar of the pouring rain and thunder until they were one bellow. One of my friends couldn't stand to hear this part, it made her sick. But I, who can usually feel my creations' pain, can't feel this. Ergo, I'm thinking the description isn't powerful enough. What do all of you think? |
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| Shrike | Jul 11 2005, 03:57 PM Post #8 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Huh. I don't get it, it's not that shocking. Your friend must be overly squeamish. I sure hope she doesn't try to read the stuff I normally read. Nice, and I still remember that poem you had me translate! But it's like Poison Ivy's kiss, isn't it, except it doesn't kill. I sure hope the fire apparitions themselves are immune to it, that'd make an interesting...*quickly shuts off overactive imagination* Haha what a dumbass, after he already said he knew what the kiss did! Men! I'd laugh harder if I wasn't one myself. I think this Ave is a bit of a sucker for pretty women, against his better judgment. Show me the revised edition of the intro, I'd like to see it. You have me hooked, I'm not sorry to say. And check out my thread, I've been working like a maniac on mine and I'll post the next little bit in a few minutes. Let the vivisection and mental butchery of our lives' works continue!
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| Ignia | Jul 12 2005, 12:35 PM Post #9 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Why the #$%@#$## do we pay so much for broadband if it DOESN'T $%$#@@#$ WORK????!!!! The wireless internet on my computer only works once in a random blue moon so I had a vitzin' hard time getting this thing onto Dryad's computer again (Why it wasn't hard the first time I WILL NEVER KNOW!!!!). And then? DRYAD'S INTERNET STOPS WORKING!!!! deep, calming breath..... deep, calming breath.... The moral of the story is, it was really tough getting this here, so you'd better enjoy it! Anybody a martial arts fan? Well the throws Ignia uses to kick butt are real Judo moves, namely (in respective order): Kosoto Gake from behind (small outside reap) Ippon Seoinage (one armed shoulder throw) Tomoenage (circular throw) Their descriptions are in the passage. The other moves Ignia uses are all Jujitsu. This passage is near the middle of the novel (75 pages after the other things I posted). They are on a lava scar that is still volcanically active, e.g. lava-hot mud trapps beneath thin rock. An unusually powerful wind apparition has attacked and is going to kill the tetrad off one at a time as they are lost in the ash cloud he stirred up. The boy's mother (the she-bat apparition) waits for her son whom is having fun with his victims.... “Come out you dog-faced coward!” Ave called. “You flea-bitten mutt! Are you hiding behind mommy? You’re too scared to fight me like a man!” Ave cried out as a blast knocked him to the rock ground. “More like too smart,” the boy laughed. “Bad call!” Ave threw a dagger of ice into the ash where he’d heard the voice. “Whoa!” The boy teased. “You almost got me. But I wouldn’t be throwing around knives like that; who knows where your friends are?” Suddenly the same voice came from behind him. “Not to mention sound is carried through the air.” Ave swiveled around but the voice was to his left. “And I control the air.” Ave turned frantically, but now it was above him. “There’s no telling where I really am.” “I suppose you think you’re pretty good,” Ave challenged. “Uh… Yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty good,” the young man’s voice taunted from behind Ave. Ave listened hard, his whole attention set upon his own skin. “Not many wind apparitions can create a vacuum around a person as well as support themselves in the air,” Ave said, trying to keep the boy talking. “Well, I do have an advantage over most wind apparitions,” the boy said smugly. Ave could feel the wind whisper across the hairs on his arm. “Really?” He asked. “Really,” the boy confirmed, obviously bored. “But enough talking!” The wind picked up again, but Ave had heard enough. Judging from the direction of the voice, opposite the direction the air flowed, Ave knew exactly where the young apparition was. Ave lunged for him, plunging his sword right for the dog apparition. For an instant Ave could see the boy’s horror struck eyes, but with a blast of wind the wind apparition was safely hidden in the cloud of ash once again. “What, no smug remark?” Ave shot. “No cunning whit?” But the young man had realized his mistake and kept silent. Suddenly Ave felt the air pull out of his lungs and the air pressure about him flee with a jarring rush as if he were falling from a great hight. His eyes widened as he strained to take a breath, but there was no air to breathe. Ave was chocking, struggling to fill his lungs, and quickly becoming dizzy. He felt blood seep from his nose. Suddenly the ash right in front of him dissipated, and in the clearing, only two arm’s-lengths away, Ave could see the young wind apparition glaring at him malignantly, pure hatred burning within his eyes. Fear rose in Ave’s heart as his vision began to tunnel; he knew he would soon pass out and suffocate. With the strength of desperation he swung his arm across, forming the ice sword as he did, and just barely caught the shocked boy by the throat. Ave was instantly released and he gulped a lung-full of air. Ave looked to his attacker, and his eyes widened in horror. He took a few steps toward the young apparition who lay on the ground, his chest convulsing in pain, his ripped throat squirting blood. The boy chocked and sputtered, the blood splattering over his lips and draining from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were gripped with fear and agony, the image of which stabbed into Ave’s soul. The winged apparition stared down at the child whimpering in agony. “He’s so young.” Ave clenched his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and plunged his sword into the dog apparition’s chest. “Ajax! Noo!” The ash had settled enough that the boy’s mother had seen the final blow. She rushed to her boy, wailing in despair. With a hard, cold look masking his face Ave threw the sanguine sword aside, letting it shatter upon the rocks. Ignia, Draca and Pike looked to the wailing she-bat, unsure of what to do. “You killed him!” She shouted. “You killed him!” The mother burst into bright green flames. Ave stumbled back, fearful shock gripping his chest. Fast as an explosion she slammed a flaming fist into his jaw, knocking the tall apparition to his back. Ave quickly incased himself in ice as the mother blasted an emerald inferno about him. Ignia quickly ran to intervene. When the flames and ice were gone Ave exhaustedly pushed himself to his hands and knees. With an angry cry the bat apparition kicked him down with the burning force of a fission bomb. At the same instant Ignia grabbed the back of the woman’s neck, her arm, and hooked her leg around the she-bat’s. Pulling her leg from beneath her Ignia forced the woman to the ground. “Cursed traitor!” The mother lunged up at Ignia, catching her around the waist. Ignia hit the ground hard, and the she-bat began strangling her. Ignia put her arms between the woman’s and with an outward swipe she broke the mother’s grip. The wolfess wrapped her arm around the she-bats, wrenching it against the joint. Pike and Draca rushed to help. “Stay back!” Ignia shouted. “I want to keep this a fair fight.” The mother head-butted Ignia, dazing her enough to rip away from the arm-bar. “I don’t need a murderer’s pity!” She punched at Ignia who dodged enough to grab the outstretched arm, lifting the woman onto her hip and flipping her to the ground. “Stop this!” Ignia demanded. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than we already have.” But the mother only screamed in rage, her green flames surging towards Ignia. The wolfess surrounded herself with her own inferno, and the copper and green flames mixed like oil and vinegar. “You don’t deserve to live!” the mother shouted. “All that’s happened is your fault!” She lunged at Ignia, but as the wolfess dodged the she-bat grabbed her by the hair and ripped her down, kneeing her in the stomach. Cringing, Ignia found herself on her back gasping for breath when the she-bat fell atop her and began to beat her with uncontrollable wrath. Ignia grabbed the woman behind the ears and forced her thumbs into her eye sockets with just enough pressure to make her back off. Ignia scrambled from beneath the she-bat and backed away. “I’ll tear your face off!” the she-bat roared and stampeded toward the wolfess. Ignia caught her by the collar, and, planting her foot in the woman’s stomach, she fell back making the she-bat fly over her head. “Ignia! Don’t!” Draca cried. Ignia heard the ground behind her crack, and steam hiss, covered by the woman’s agonized scream. The wolf apparition turned and was met by a wave of stench that smelled of sizzling flesh. It was then that Ignia realized she had thrown the she-bat into the ground Pike had before weakened. Ignia watched in revolted horror as the woman’s flesh melted away in the volcanic mud. The she-bat thrashed and screamed as she sunk into the devouring, lava-hot mire. Ignia clasped her hand over her nose and mouth, fighting back her ever-crushing guilt. Pike went to her side and helped her up, but even when she stood he kept his hand softly on her arm. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get off this rock.” “Wait.” They turned to look at Ave. The dark apparition was kneeling by the boy’s body. “I don’t want to leave him for the crows.” Ignia walked back to Ave, Pike’s hand brushing off her arm. “Stand back,” she told the ice apparition. Ignia knelt over the body as the three observed from a safe distance. Ave watched as copper flames rolled down Ignia’s arms and engulfed the child’s body. He never moved, the flames flickering in his eyes, while Ignia slowly reduced the body to ashes. Draca turned away, looking at her brother instead. Pike put his arms around her and looked down into her hair. But Ave watched every painful moment. His hands were stained with many creatures’ blood but none had gripped his heart as this did. He thought of Mea, and how all he had found of her were the charred remains of lioness bones. And as the child’s own bones crumbled from Ignia’s extreme heat, it seemed to Ave that death was all his life could bring. “Just like the Erinyes,” Ave thought, his eyes finally closing once the flames had vanished. I just realized all three of these passages are mostly about Ave! He's only one fourth of the story! |
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| Shrike | Jul 13 2005, 04:07 AM Post #10 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Heh, thats pretty nice. I took karate in high school last year, and that was really fun. A class where we're allowed to beat the crap out of each other! Good times, good times. One minor note: it's "choking", not "chocking". Otherwise all spelling looks good. So the wind apparition and the she-bat just randomly attacked them? If so, that she-bat was really being kind of a hypocrite if she got so mad at losing something she started. And is Ave the main viewpoint character, or does it switch between the others? Cuz your right, it kinda makes it seem like Ave is the main main character. Lol you were right, skillZ with a capital Z indeed. Wish I could fight that good *pouts* <_< And just how long is this book, anyway? 75 pages plus?? Very prolific.
My advice, keep a sledgehammer in plain view so that the computer learns its lesson. Lord knows how many times my comp has come this close to getting the living scheisse beaten out of it.
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| Ignia | Jul 13 2005, 08:18 AM Post #11 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Hehehe Well after that temper tantrum, today seems to be a random blue moon! Laptops: can't live with them can't live without them. Yeah, spelling isn't my best subject (bite me; it's fun), but that's what editors are for. As far as the length, I hope it's not too short! I want this to be a novel (rather than a novella), but I'm half way through and it's only 40,000 words! What is the deviding point anyway? I think the mom was rather justified. How would you feel if your son was killed before your eyes? Especially by your worst enemy's companion? Well, as long as I'm actually on my own computer *happy dance* Why don't I give you a taste of another character? Ignia, Pike, Ave, and Draca are equally main characters despite initial appearances. One person might identify with, say Ave and think he is the main character, but another person might more readily identify with Draca and think she is the main character. I did this purposfully so that each of the four become real people separate from the other three. Here Draca describes her brother to Ave while patching him up after a battle (not for the last time; Ave is a bit of a punching bag.): The dezean’s voice was conniving, her whole face alight with the spark of conversation, yet the look about her was less like a gossiping woman and more like a devious vixen. “Pike is an intellectual.” The vixen said. “He never acts without thinking through every possible scenario. He has the mind of a Capricorn: clever, perfectionistic, and faster than light.” Draca had finished washing Ave’s wounds, and now sat mindlessly playing with one of her many earrings. “He would have never felt so compelled to finish you tonight if he didn’t think it was the only way to defeat you.” “Flattering,” Ave almost agreed. And here is Pike confirming Draca's statement, i.e. he's thinking too hard: Pike awoke feeling as if he had been lying there the whole time, and felt no evidence of his fall. Getting up he looked around at the bright colors elaborately woven on the walls. The terracotta of paint twisting about each other formed an intricate pattern like none of any culture. The room was well lit despite the lack of any light source Pike was able to identify. The three walls of the room formed an isosceles triangle, and opposite the smallest angle were two large doors, both completely plain other than the fact that one was painted pitch black, and the other stark white. They looked alien in the midst of the busy walls. Unexpectedly a whisper broke from the still air sounding the same as a voice distorted by wind. The bodiless voice told him, “To decide is to cut away your options. If you decide, you have ignored your Self in favor of logic presumed to be truth. To choose is to obey your whim, the voice of your Self. You choose for no logical reason only for the voice within you. Choose a door and free your Self from the downward cut of your decision.” Silence hung in the air. Pike looked from the black door to the white, and back. “Okay….” He looked from door to door. “Right. So I… choose. I just pick a door.” He rubbed his hands together. “Right.” Pike looked from door to plain door. “But which one?” He crossed his arms and ruminated, “It’s all a question of what I can expect behind that door. Obviously white is associated with purity and goodness, while black represents darkness and tribulations. But any halfway intelligent person would know that if your trying to be tricked then you go for the less obvious answer, which would mean picking the black door. But it’s never that simple! They know I’d be suspecting a trap, and would try to avoid it by going through the black door, which means that is where they’d lay the trap, but then again if they really wanted to me to fail they would booby trap both doors. But nevertheless, that’s not the point, and so the trap must lie beyond the black door. Therefore the correct choice is the white door!” His brain kind of spinning, Pike took a step toward the white door. Hesitating he looked over to his other option. “No,” he assured himself, “this makes since,” and reached out to push open the white door. As soon as he touched the door it opened for him and he stepped through. The first thing he saw was identical patterns on the walls as in the room from which he had just come, but then he saw what was right ahead of him: two doors, completely plain, one pitch black and the other stark white. “What the hell?” Pike turned around but the door he had just stepped through was gone, replaced only by the apex of the isosceles triangle of the room. *** “You decided on the white door,” the windy voice told Pike. “To decide is to cut away your options. If you decide, you have ignored your Self in favor of logic presumed to be truth. To choose is to obey your whim, the voice of your Self. You choose for no logical reason only for the voice within you. Choose a door and free your Self from the downward cut of your decision.” “So I’ve heard,” Pike grumbled looking at the two more doors facing him. “Here’s a whim,” he told the voice. “After picking the white door, most would try the black door, so obviously the answer lies in the opposite.” Feeling slightly foolish Pike reached for the second white door and it opened for him with a single touch. Over the threshold Pike found himself standing at the apex of an isosceles triangle facing a black door and a white door. “You’ve got to be kidding,” Pike growled as the bodiless voice repeated the riddle. He rubbed his eyes with a groan. “Well we know what’s behind the white door, it’s time to see what the black door holds.” Pike touched the door, walked through, and screamed in frustration when fronted by a black door and a white door. “You decided on the black door,” the whisper said and repeated the riddle a fourth time. “Okay, this is going to take more thought.” Pike sat down and rolled the riddle around in his mind. “ ‘To decide is to cut away your options’…” Pike mused, “ ‘in favor of logic presumed to be truth’…. And, ‘You choose for no logical reason’…. That’s it!” Pike jumped to his feet. “I’m supposed to pick the illogical choice! And the illogical choice would be the white door, so friendly and familiar,” Pike snickered. And so, having passed through the threshold Pike was dumbfounded to see a black door and a white door, and to hear the riddle whispered in his ear. “How do I keep falling into your trap?!” Pike cried, collapsing to a sitting position. “It’s a vitzin’ fifty-fifty chance! Statistically I should have at least stumbled upon the right door!” Pike fell back and lay there looking up to the endless darkness above, however continuing to grumble. “Unless they both lead absolutely nowhere and I’ll just be going in circles until I die of thirst!” Pike sighed deeply. “Or maybe I’m just thinking too much. Maybe the answer is so simple I couldn’t possibly have seen it and I’m really just trapped in my own circular thinking.” He simply lay there too tired to think of anything, and watched the nothingness for a while. Finally Pike pulled himself up and ran his finger through his hair. “I’m not going to get out of here by lying on my back,” he sighed. “But what will get me out of here?” He looked at the two doors in defeat. His weary eyes moved from one to the other. Then out of nowhere defiance rose within him. “You know what?” Pike said. “I really don’t give a damn. I pick this door just for the sheer hell of it!” Pike reached out and touched the door, but as it opened he did not have time to be pleased that there were no more doors beyond it. Instead, Pike screamed. Mwahaha! Leave you hanging??? |
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| Shrike | Jul 14 2005, 04:31 PM Post #12 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Ok, if the companion of my worst enemy showed up at my door out of the blue and killed my son in cold blood, then my anger would be justified, of course I'd grab my shotgun and hunt the f*cker down. But if I sent my son into combat, knowing there was a chance he would be killed - let's assume this she-bat has a reasonable degree of intelligence - 1: I wouldn't send him alone in the first place, I'd be a good mother(father) and at least help the kid for chrissakes, and 2: I wouldn't flip out and place the blame entirely on Ave, because it partly is on her because she didn't even help her own son. Ya feel me, sistah? NO!! GODDAMMIT!! YOU'RE WRONG!! I'm kidding, I've always wanted to scream that at someone at the top of my lungs.And WOW on that riddle scene, that is way beyond anything I would come up with. I'm too obsessed with clashing swords and mass warfare, blood and gore type things. But the riddle scene really gives the book more balance, not just a swashbuckling magic fireball-blasting bloodbath, but a more tricksy intellectual bent. Ever read Hyperion? The book is pure goddamn genius, not just because there is plenty of action(sex) and more disturbing stuff, but the part when Martin Silenus the poet tells his life story about how he took everything he had ever learned about just about every well-known poet imaginable, and blended all of their styles into his, is really deep stuff. You should read the book just for that one section. By the way, 40k words translates into how many pages? I shouldn't ask this, I know the answer will make me insanely jealous, but I'm still curious. Hanging? I dont know what you're talking about. What cliffhanger? Im not interested at all. *posts in Lies thread* And in my opinion, novellas are often better than full length novels. I've never read a novella I didn't like, and I think in a way they require more skill because you have to both tell a story and integrate the reader into your world in fewer pages. Jack Vance does this with - again I quote - pure goddamn genius. That's why I'm shooting for a short story length for my first story instead of a full-length, so I don't pile too many expectations on myself. Robert Jordan and his Wheel of Time series is an example of what I want to avoid: the first 4 books are pretty good, but then he bogs himself down with so many subplots that it takes another six books in which nothing really happens to not even be finished with the story at all! |
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| Ignia | Jul 15 2005, 06:46 AM Post #13 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Hyperion huh? Is that the one with the Shrike creature? My mom said you got your name from a science fiction book with a girl that grows up, then back, then up again! The word file is of this moment officially 40,937 words, or a paragraph away from being a full 77 pages, but I don't know how many pages that translates to be in book form (that's why I learned to talk in 'words' rather than 'pages') Yeah, Allecto's Temple is all about the riddles, but now that I know they are liked just as much as blood baths I'm going to try to add more in. (I'm actually incredibly blocked at the moment and I'm about to go mad trying to break this vitzin' writer's block, but here's hoping.) And about the child/parent argument, I couldn't disagree more. Maybe it's a maternal thing. But there's also a large irrationality in love. You find yourself needing someone to blame and of course you're not going to blame yourself, that would make the anger circular. Stop thinking like a computer, making the equation perfectly balanced. Emotions control many lives, and by making my characters thus, they become more human and the reader doesn't just identify but finds himself feeling like he personally knows the character. *clasps hands together, eyes twinkling* It's a beautiful dichotomy that depicts the struggle between rational and humanity! :rolleyes: (a writer is never off duty!) |
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| Shrike | Jul 15 2005, 09:45 AM Post #14 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Yep, Rachel Weintraub grows up to become a young archeologist and goes to study the Time Tombs, big stone structures on the planet Hyperion that move slowly backwards through time. They are also the home of the Shrike, who hits Rachel with the Merlin disease that causes her to age backwards. You should read it, its really good. I just got into the Man-Kzin Wars series, where humanity is under attack by the Kzin, giant man-tiger aliens with beam rifles and plasma guns and stuff. So cool, I'm trying to draw a kzin battlesuit with a massive plasma turret mounted on one shoulder, but the Muses do not sing to me. You may be right about the maternal thing, you probably know a lot more about love than I do. Thinking like a computer? Hahaha nice one, I've never been accused of that before LOL ROFLMAO! But I can think of plenty of literary characters that blame themselves for the death of loved ones. If I had serious maternal instincts I would at least help my child if I was emotional enough to want to avenge him. 77 pages!!! *sob* Oh man, how could I compare to that?? Oh well, I guess I'll build up to it. See my story isn't the main story that I made up to go along with my world at all, this is just a little side story. I've tried to write the real epic tale, but it's just too epic for me to tackle yet.
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| Ignia | Jul 15 2005, 12:53 PM Post #15 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Don't. Comparisons lead nowhere. Just do what I do: use as many words as you need, no more no less. Once you put your full attention into the story, and stop worrying about outside complications, you'll find that the pages fill themselves and before you know it a year has passed and you are 77 pages strong! |
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| Shrike | Jul 15 2005, 01:12 PM Post #16 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Yeah, your probably right. Last November I had to take two weeks off from school because my family went to the British Virgin Islands for ten days and sailed around the different islands, and it was pretty awsm. But then, there was the issue of makeup work. My English teacher let me write a sci-fi version of Oedipus the King to compensate for all the work that I missed. And I had so much fun, I just let it write itself and before I knew it it was 17 pages long, maybe a quarter finished and hopelessly behind schedule, so I had to turn it in incomplete, but the POINT IS, at least this story doesn't have a deadline.
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| Ignia | Jul 16 2005, 05:52 AM Post #17 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Sci-fi version of Oedipus Rex?are you saying your teachers actually encourage crativity? All my english teachers squash it <_< And, dammit, you weren't supposed to post what your sig is! I had to close my eyes! I'll have it translated by tomorrow, ye of lacking all faith in me. *turns on heel and walks away, wolf tail swishing irately* |
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| Shrike | Jul 16 2005, 06:04 AM Post #18 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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I didn't post it in English, just simplified Latin. Those eius's were in some confusing places I know, but they make the whole thing just roll off the tongue. Gratum auribus est. Pssshh. Women. Never satisfied. <_< Yes my English teacher is pretty cool, I wrote a short story freshman year for an assignment and she flipped out, she liked it a lot. But Oedipus 3099 wasn't that great I thought, it was hard to represent Oedipus with an alien starship named after him. Yes, I made all the main characters in the play into starships, kinda difficult but there was this great battle scene with the Sphinx (also a ship). And the Oracle of Delphi was an AI computer. So I abandoned the project after I had gotten credit for it. But it was an interesting concept, I thought. |
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| Ignia | Jul 21 2005, 07:41 AM Post #19 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Alright, if I'm going to fulfill your lust for more apparitions, then I've got a good looong portion that needs work. It's a great idea, but it's just lacking, and seems too, predictable? Cheesy? Out of place? Help me out here! I want some serious over-all feed back, and nit-picking suggestions! This part needs no introductions. You know as much as you are told here. Draca no longer fell, but was surrounded in breathless darkness. She flailed as she was swept in an uncontrollable current, swimming drastically for air. In a separate moment the water rushed by her without sweeping her along. An invisible force pulled her by the sleeve upward until she burst from the viscous blackness. Sputtering and coughing, something dragged Draca by the sleeve onto a pebble beach. She lay on her back forcing out muck from within her chest and once she could breath again she sat up and looked about. She checked herself and found she had managed to keep all her limbs and digits, and to her delight all her piercings, but her sheer over-shirt was ripped and stretched. Rain fell gently around her and ran along the black shale into the torrent of mud in front of her. A dark wood sat behind her and Draca realized she was on the opposite side of the canyon than the others. A sudden flash of lightning revealed a dark creature scuttling toward her. She screamed in shock and shot a large ball of indigo energy at the alligator. The creature whipped around, avoiding the blow. She jumped up and away all the time throwing ball after ball of energy at the reptile. As it dodged the dark alligator began to loose some of its scales and turn light. Its long nose shortened into a man’s face, and hair flowed down his back. “Hold up!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet. The apparition stood in front of Draca, with scaled arms, clawed hands, and spikes running down his back and onto his rough tail. He breathed heavily, yet held himself distinctly, looking down at her gently. His shining hair fell about his shoulders and down his back in autumn gold. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said with an artful smile. “Not the most stunning of creatures are we?” But Draca had been stunned, and only looked up at him, blinking. “Alligators?” he offered. “We aren’t very nice looking?” To Draca his words were beyond false--- he was beautiful. He smiled, looking a bit confused at Draca’s lack of reaction. “Come here,” he said offering his hand, palm up. Draca placed her hand on his and his claws closed about her in an amazingly light touch, as if he was holding a flower he didn’t want to crush. He led her toward a semi-dry bolder underneath a cliff overhang. He never took his soft eyes from her. “Are you cold?” He asked as he led her to the overhang. Unable to speak, Draca shook her head, still staring up at him. There was only room for one to be shielded from the rain, and without doubt Draca received the honored seat. “Sorry about your shirt,” he smiled, “but I thought it better than grabbing your arm in my teeth.” The humor passed though her and the apparition paused for a moment that seemed forever to the transfixed dezean. “I’m Boudreaux.” His voice seemed to urge Draca to speak. “D-” She swallowed. “Draca.” Boudreaux’s face lit up as he repeated, “Draca.” *** “I’m going after her!” Pike said, shrugging his shirt off. “Pike, we don’t know for sure she fell,” Ignia urged. “She could be drowning right now!” Screamed the dezean. Beyond their arguing, Ave heard a scratching behind him, like claws scraping against stone. Ave turned and froze, having no idea what was climbing down the mountain toward them. Ave felt a rushing feeling as the demon crawled closer on its eight long legs. It had a round body as large as a half story boulder. From the hairy body that held many eyes, sprang the long legs with great, clawed clamps at the end. The only thing the arachnid creature seemed to lack were mandibles large enough to rip them to shreds, but Ave assumed some sort of mouth was hidden beneath the shaggy fur. The creature stretched high on its eight legs, standing as tall as the mountain dragon had. “Pike,” Ave said grabbing the other’s arm, “what is that?” Pike and Ignia turned. They froze like Ave, who didn’t want to provoke a fight until he knew what they were up against. “That’s a scylla, a spider demon,” Pike whispered. “It wants one of two things: to eat the flesh from our bones, or to lay its eggs in the stomachs of our dead bodies.” “Plan of action?” Ignia breathed. “Ignia get on its left,” Pike ordered. “I’ll go to the right. Ave, take out its eyes.” In the same instant Ignia and Pike dashed to opposite sides, and the scylla looked from one to the other as if it didn’t know whom to attack. But Ave stood still, feeling the feathers cover his body. The ground rushed up at him as he shrank, and his face hardened into a beak. His arms melded into his wings and his feet became webbed. The cormorant pushed from the ground, flapping vigorously, hoping the waning rain would stop altogether. He circled higher and higher, watching a tiny Ignia, and a tiny Pike confuse the large demon. His seafowl eyes, built to see fish gliding beneath the ocean, gleamed down, watching, judging, waiting, until…. Air spilt from Ave’s wings, which he tucked to his body. The spider demon grew larger and larger as Ave sped faster toward its eyes. “Not yet…” Ave thought. “Not yet…Now!” Ave flung open his wings, plunging his beak into a beady eye, and a clawed foot into another. He felt blood spill over his beak as it ripped down the spider demon’s face. He heard the scylla screech in pain as Ave flapped wildly, tearing at the remaining eyes. Shock hit his cormorant heart at the sight of a leg coming at him, but instead of a clamp with claws, Ave realized at the end of each leg was a jaw with claw-like teeth. Instantly he grew to keep from being swallowed at once, and the scylla caught an apparition in its jaw instead of a double crested sea bird. Ave screamed as the teeth ripped deep into his wing and ribs. A blast of copper flame raced across the spider’s leg catching the dark fur. The mouth at the end of the leg dropped Ave as it hollered in pain. Panting, Ave pushed himself from the ground, ignoring his dripping blood. The flaming leg came straight for him, jaws open wide. With a yell Ave shoved his ice sword down the creature’s throat, but it only clamped its long teeth into Ave’s arm. The pain bellowed from Ave’s chest sounding like a flock of grackles at dusk fighting over roosts. The scylla swung its leg carrying Ave with it. Ave flew through the air for a moment then felt his back slam into the trunk of a tree. No sound was able to escape Ave’s throat as his humorous was dislocated from his shoulder. Ave sunk to the ground, his arm twisted at an odd angle. *** “Did you save anyone else?” Draca asked Boudreaux, twisting her hands in her lap. “Anyone else?” The alligator apparition looked confused. “I’m sure you were the only one who fell.” “They must be out of their minds worrying,” Draca said standing abruptly. “Whoa, wait a second, and let me help,” Boudreaux said putting a scaly hand on her elbow. “Now,” he continued, “how many ‘they’s are there?” “There are three of them,” Draca said looking past the apparition at the cascading river. “Do you think they’d split up to find you?” Boudreaux asked. “They might,” she answered nervously. “But they’re on the other side of the gorge.” “Perfect!” Boudreaux said with such a lovely smile that Draca couldn’t help but smile back, slightly blushing. “I know a natural bridge down stream from here,” Boudreaux explained. “They’d probably start their search down stream anyway, so we’ll meet them half way.” Draca nodded. “Alright.” Boudreaux led the way, and in reality Draca was happy to keep him in her sight. Her forked tongue kept flicking from her lips and the air tasted strange, like a foul stench about them. She doubted the apparition in front of her would do her harm since he’d saved her in the first place, but something tasted deceiving. His golden hair flowed behind him, seeming to reach for Draca and she smiled; no, she would be alright. *** Pike had seen Ave hit the tree and called to him. “Ave!” he shouted. “Take yourself out of the fight!” “Never,” the winged apparition replied, getting to his feet with a murderous glower on his face. One of the legs snapped at Pike who leapt out of the way, sending the power through his body out onto the spider demon. At this point most of Pike’s effort had no affect. He hadn’t managed to take out a leg yet, and even if he did there would be seven more to deal with. Pike knew the best way to for survival was to destroy the head. As the other two battled toothed limbs Pike ran straight for the head. He threw his weight back and slid on his thigh across the wet ground. His powers surged inside his body, and just when the shadow fell over him he released three nurse sharks that flew from his hands to slam into the scylla’s body. With a screech three legs reached underneath to Pike. Pike pushed himself from two hungry mouths and into the third. “Eat this!” Pike rocketed his energy down the throat, blasting a bloody hole in the leg. The great round body twisted to look down on him only to be greeted by a ball of mud energy into the eye. Pike laughed deviously, then called to Ave, “Remaining eyes: five points each!” Ave held a spear of ice over his head and hurled it up at the scylla. The spear fell short and missed the vulnerable eyes. “Not fair!” Ave retorted. “I only have my left arm!” “This isn’t a game!” Ignia spat. “Sure it is!” Pike ginned as he wielded a spear of his own power up to the eyes. “Fine,” Ignia smiled, her wolf tail swishing. “Stand aside for a lady.” Ignia’s hair fluttered about her shoulders as if she stood over an updraft, her clothes rippling in the warm air. Copper flames flickered about her feet, rose to her legs, up her torso, and finally swirled around the arms she held above her head. “HAA!” Ignia shouted as the flames erupted from her palms. A great torrent of copper plasma slammed into the scylla’s face burning through its eyes. Pike noticed Ave’s jaw drop, but he merely tucked one arm under the elbow of the other, holding his chin. “Kudos for the whole volcano thing,” Pike said, gesticulating slightly. “Very, very nice.” Ignia smiled triumphantly, standing straight. Her hair floated down upon her shoulders, and her skirt stopped swirling. The spider demon, with its eyes pecked, blasted, and burned out, stumbled wildly searching for them. Pike shouted feeling his feet leave the ground. The scylla had grabbed him around the middle and proceeded to fling him around like a doll. While the world blurred by him, Pike tried to free himself but to no avail. He knew the only way he was getting out of the clamped jaw was being set fee, and as he was swung back that’s exactly what happened. Pike screamed as he flew backward for a moment. He barely felt hitting the mountainside. *** Draca followed Boudreaux along the cliff. She had opened up and was telling him about her companions. “That’s just the way he thinks,” Draca said, continuing her story. “Pike was set on killing him, but I would have nothing to do with meaningless slaughter.” “I agree,” Boudreaux said. “Why did he save him just to kill him?” “That’s exactly what I said!” Draca exclaimed. “But I suppose Pike was right the whole time. Ave ran him through- almost killed him.” Draca smiled up at the black sky. “It’s amazing they both survived!” “I bet they had some help.” Boudreaux smiled back at Draca, who felt her cheeks burning. “We’re here.” Boudreaux motioned at the canyon where the rocky walls pinched together creating a long, fragile-looking bridge of rock. Draca could hear the swollen river rushing below. “Great!” Draca felt relieved that she would soon see her brother and friends. “You should come with me; we’re carrying too much meat and could use someone to help us eat it.” For the first time, Draca stepped in front of Boudreaux, brushing his arm with her hand as she passed. But before she could take another step she felt his claws grasp her shoulder. “Ah,” she winced. “Boudreaux, you’re hurting me….” Draca began to turn, but more quickly Boudreaux jerked her to him, and his lips pressed harshly to hers. Draca shoved him away with her deep-tented energy. Snakes of her power slid from her and wrapped the apparition tightly. He threw up his arms, dispelling the energy, breaking it into wisps. His eyes were cold, his face like stone. He looked as if he had never once smiled. Draca started to back away ready for anything, but suddenly she felt flames in her gut. She doubled over at the feeling of lava rising in her body. Acid pulsed in her veins and her breath would neither come nor go. The pain burned through her causing her to crumple to the ground, her face twisted in a silent scream. She knew what had happened. A fire apparition had kissed her, cursing her with his powers. Boudreaux seized her by the throat, gloating in her despair. “So gullible.” The fire apparition’s lip curled into a sneer. |
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| Shrike | Jul 22 2005, 06:07 AM Post #20 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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Ok, recap: The four companions were fighting a dragon, defeated it, and Draca somehow fell over the cliff into the water. She is rescued by a croc apparition, who kind of seduces her into a false sense of security. Meanwhile the other three are attacked by a spider demon, and have their hands full fighting that. Boudreaux warms Draca up, and starts to take her back to the others, but then he kisses her, turns out to be a fire apparition, and presumably now will take her somewhere else to lure the other three after him? Verum est? Is this Boudreaux guy like the she-bat and her son, agents of the presumed "opposition party"? Or just a crazy guy who lives way up in the mountains and kidnaps damsels in distress? A random challenge, not necessarily related to whatever's against Ignia and company, if you will. As far as out of place, I dont really know enough of the story as a whole to place it, but it looks fine to me. Still plenty of action to keep the reader interested. And it also helps, I think, to have the story split up like it is to make the reader have to read on to know the full story. And man, lay up on Ave will ya? Poor guy gets his ass kicked even when he wins. Do apparitions have superfast regeneration or something? Cuz this guy just won't quit. |
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| Ignia | Jul 23 2005, 11:18 AM Post #21 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Sic! or at least close enough; the mountain dragon was a while ago, and a mud slide swept Draca off the cliff. And Boudreaux is actually the main antagonist. The she-bat and son were part of the Hunt, i.e. find the traitor, kill the traitor. Boudreaux comes back into the story when Ignia gets to the Western Mountain. Plus, Draca needs payback! You want the background for my story? Sure you do! “Before we go any farther we must rest,” Ignia said, dropping her pack. “And before we go any further, there are things that must be said.” They all sat on the twinkling granite path, and when they each had a ration of food and water in their hands Ignia spoke words she never had to say before. “Fire apparitions live together in the Fury Mountains, unknown to anyone,” Ignia began. “If one were to, by some bitter luck, run into a fire apparition, they would only take their story to the underworld. “Fire apparitions do not, however, live in ignorant peace,” Ignia said. “They were divided into clans, one in the east, one in the west, and one to the north. Each clan protected an Erinyes Jewel from the others; if one clan threatened another for their Jewel, the remaining two would push them back. In this way they lived in a pressured triangle, perpetually tense and paranoid. Each clan valued separate ideals: east praised Self; west worshiped Strength; north studied Spirit. But it was this Triumvirate that kept the Erinyes eternally apart. Yet it also made sure that through the generations each apparition sustained the value of Life. “Vesta was the priestess of the Clan of Allecto, the clan I was born into. Her duty was the protection of the Erinyes Jewel Allecto, and training those chosen to protect that Jewel. I was chosen as a student of Vesta because of my piety and intelligence. As one of her many students I was given the best education in philosophy, sciences, arts, duties of a priestess, and martial practices. I excelled quickly and became exquisitely strong in body and mind. And finally when Vesta saw that we knew we were ready, she sent us into the Temple of Allecto. We faced our hardships, tears and blood staining our faces forever, but of all our priestesses, Vesta had lost the fewest to Allecto. Leaving childhood behind, I became a true Protector of Allecto, and having such a solid sense of Self, I was assigned Guide of the Temple of Allecto. I led many down this path; I watched many die at the end of it. I won the name Caron, as if I was a guide to death rather than Self. But unlike Caron, I had a heart, and as Guide I helped people find their Self, and saved as many lives as possible. Ignia paused, for the next part of her story made her scars sear down into her heart and deep into her marrow. “I was seen as the greatest priestess under Vesta, soon to surpass my master. Vesta saw I was the most worthy priestess, most powerful fighter, and most complete in Self. And so we secretly conspired to break the Triumvirate, unknowing of the fate I was to unfold. I was to go north and meld into the Clan of Megaera to attempt what no sane creature would ever try. Yet however good our knowledge, we all had underestimated the strength of the Erinyes. Each Jewel lies in the warmth of a barrier she creates, and only when the Jewel wishes to be taken from her alter will she let the barrier down. But my spiritual powers were great, and Megaera recognized the blessings of Allecto. Therefore as I poured my flame into the barrier, our powers began to blend, the tension like a hollow box, taken deep under crushing pressure until the wood splinters and implodes. Just like that the barrier shattered, the fragments driven deep into my heart. There Megaera’s power bled into my own, and the force, like the hurl of the earth, or crash of a tsunami, spurned the mountain throwing the magma into a brutal rampage. The abrupt eruption killed the whole clan, sparing only Megaera and her new slave. “The traitor who had murdered a third of the fire apparitions and stolen their Erinyes sent the remaining clans into chaos. They scrambled into the Fury Mountains, Hunting every known rogue fire apparition, but none ever thought it was Caron that had fallen into the Styx. I do not know how I was thrown to the foot of the mountains, the Jewel lost from my hand, and I do not know how long I suffered, dusted with ash. The power of the Erinyes kept me alive in that ash, and still does now, along with the hope of finishing the impossible task Vesta and I started a lifetime ago. “It was then that I realized that my actions had created the disaster I had been trying to prevent. Now that there was no protection of Megaera, her location not even known, the possibility of the Collision of Fire had descended like a rain of poison. The Collision of Fire would be the war known to happen if one clan gained possession of two Erinyes Jewels; the force of such a war pitting all demons and apparitions against the divine power of two Erinyes backed by a fleet of fire apparitions would devastate our world. And when the battle was lost to the two Erinyes, and the third joined them, all life would incinerate in the true power of the Erinyes Jewels. That is why the Erinyes Jewels must be destroyed before either clan obtains Megaera. Destroying the Erinyes is the only way to prevent this war once and for all. And I, being the one to release this monster into our virgin earth, am the only one responsible, the only one deserving of the Erinyes’ wrath. I am willing to sacrifice my life if I have to, if only you will help me to the alter.” |
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| Shrike | Jul 23 2005, 06:55 PM Post #22 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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That helps!
Noticing heavy Greek influence in the names, Megara, Charon, etc. Does this story have any roots in some Greek myth I don't know about? Suddenly Ignia's character takes on a whole new dimension. She isn't as innocent and purely heroic as my first impression of her led me to believe. Ok, maybe innocent is a poor choice of word, but you know what I mean. Its not like most stories where suddenly some random virtuous hero is somehow chosen to defeat a dark lord or something (hack fantasy), I lost interest in those kinds of books long ago. One exception: Tolkien does it quite well. But Ignia could be considered the villain in some respects, by bringing about world-ending war. Heh. I like it. I've twisted Latin into pseudo-Elvish in another of my made up worlds, this one futuristic but still with Elves! I love it! Their homeworld orbits Sola, has two moons Aelpha and Baeta, and also an orbiting space station Lune. This is where I go when I feel like imagining huge space fleets and explosions and techno stuff. But I havent written anything serious about it yet. Went sailing again today, and managed to crash into the sea wall at the Berkeley Marina. Remind me never to take that particular friend out again, or to let him steer. |
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| Ignia | Jul 24 2005, 09:22 AM Post #23 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Fan of Greek, eh? If you do a little research on the Furies, also called Erinyes and finally named the Euminides, you would find they are three sisters, Allecto, Megeara (you can also spell that Megara), and Tisiphone. They have snakes for hair (but don't confuse them with Gorgons!), and blood constantly crying from their eyes. They cary whips and flagellate all who enter Tartarus. They are the ministers of justice, and protecters of law in time of anarchy. They torture to insanity any who break the laws of the gods, eg matricide/patricide, not burying a body, not avenging your father's death etc. Hm... I suppose you don't have to 'do a little research' afterall... I like your solar system ideas, but I hope you weren't trying for obscure names. I've never studied Greek and I can place all those roots. But if you want people to recognize the names, then you're right on the mark! My story isn't based on any one myth, but I allude to mythological characters constantly! I'm sure you picked out Ajax, and you noticed the main characters' names, but I allude to Hercules, most of the 12 Olympians, I even have a character later named Vesta. Oh yeah, Ignia mentioned her name.... Just the other day I wrote an allusion to book 5 of the Aenid, during the foot race when the dude slipped on boar gore! (hehe, that rhymes ^_^) And...
Puh! A dislocated shoulder is a mere scratch to our ardent Ave! Although at the moment he is the one who gets beat up the most... No; apparitions, demons, and therefore dezeans (half apparition, half demon. Draca and Pike are Dezeans. Did I already tell you that?) don't have superfast regeneration, but Pike and Draca have rather good medical knowhow. Draca is actually a sergeon! Two last points: No, 'innocent' is more like an antonym for Ignia, and second, choose your navigators more wisely! :lol: |
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| Shrike | Jul 24 2005, 03:22 PM Post #24 |
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The Spikeadelic One
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I believe it was the Furies who drove Orestes to madness after he killed - oh man, what was her name? In the Iliad, when Agamemnon sacrificed his daughter to get good winds, and his wife killed him and took a new husband? What the heck was her name? It started with a C, but thats all I remember. Anyway, Orestes killed her and her new husband - Clytemnestra? Was that it? Major memory failure here - to avenge his father, and the Furies drove him insane. I think thats about right. No wait, was it Agamemnon's children she murdered? Ugh. I should know this. And it was his family line that was cursed, and finally culminated with Oedipus and his tragedy. I DO know Greek mythology, I DO I DO I DO! Anyway, I'm gonna be gone for three weeks starting tomorrow, I'm working at Camp Wolfeboro, so I won't be around for quite a while. Just thought you should know, so you don't start freaking out when I disappear. I'll be back with plenty of horror stories.
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| Ignia | Jul 24 2005, 04:59 PM Post #25 |
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Lady of Roman Fire
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Clytemnestra, very good! Yes, the story of Orestes is one of my favorites because (in Roman mythology at least) Athena sets up a trial to see if Orestes was truely guilty since he was following the command of Apollo, and didn't really want to kill his mom anyway. This is the first time crimes were seen as having a grey agrea not just black and white. Cly. actually killed Agamemnon upon his return from the Trojan War. By this time she'd had a lover for quite some time. She also killed Cassandra whom predicted her own death, but like the curse, no one ever believed her prophesies. Have fun a camp! I'm actually going to National Latin Convention YAY!!! so I'll be gone as well. I'll pm you when I get back.
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Oh well, I guess I'll build up to it. See my story isn't the main story that I made up to go along with my world at all, this is just a little side story. I've tried to write the real epic tale, but it's just too epic for me to tackle yet.
Sci-fi version of Oedipus Rex?
Clytemnestra, very good! Yes, the story of Orestes is one of my favorites because (in Roman mythology at least) Athena sets up a trial to see if Orestes was truely guilty since he was following the command of Apollo, and didn't really want to kill his mom anyway. This is the first time crimes were seen as having a grey agrea not just black and white. 
5:12 AM Jul 12