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 Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 12:26 pm
Very nice Crow...you do realize that once you get it finished, and published, you will be forced to give copies to all of us! twisted *maniacal laugh*
Just kidding...I, at least, will buy a copy from you.
Just one thing with that excerpt that kinda nags at me.
The two times you use the word "luster" are a little close together I think. The word is used well in both paragraphs..just the repetition so close is noticeable.
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Posted: Thu Jun 01, 2006 7:02 pm
Bristi Very nice Crow...you do realize that once you get it finished, and published, you will be forced to give copies to all of us! twisted *maniacal laugh* Just kidding...I, at least, will buy a copy from you. Just one thing with that excerpt that kinda nags at me. The two times you use the word "luster" are a little close together I think. The word is used well in both paragraphs..just the repetition so close is noticeable.
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 8:45 pm
I know! The first chapter always kills me too..I know how the middle of my story should go, but I cant' figure out how to get it rolling in an eye-grabbing, "can't-put-it-down" manner. Drive me absolutely insane.
I'm now trying to use a Prologue of sorts. confused
But really..I thought it was great except for the repetition of "luster".
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Posted: Sun Jun 04, 2006 12:30 pm
Bristi I know! The first chapter always kills me too..I know how the middle of my story should go, but I cant' figure out how to get it rolling in an eye-grabbing, "can't-put-it-down" manner. Drive me absolutely insane. I'm now trying to use a Prologue of sorts. confused But really..I thought it was great except for the repetition of "luster".
Yeah I finally settled on extending the first chapters that took place in Anier so that I could play off of the dynamics of the social structure of the time, as well as all that is going on between the current characters...aka Issildia and Demitri.
I was going to cut out that whole thing all together and skip straight to the time after Anier fell and explain things via flashback and other forms of character development. But since it is titled Ashen Blade ~Origin~ it would be best to include the story of Anier before cutting to the time frame that the actual RP takes place in. 3nodding
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Posted: Tue Jun 06, 2006 4:19 pm
Of course!
My(pitiful-one-page)Prologue does grab the reader's attention..and it leads the way into the chapters...maybe all my problem is, is that I haven't worked on the first chapters very much themselves.
That's probably it right there. 3nodding
Have you ever seen such a thing as two ideas expressed in the one Prologue? Perhpas divided by asterisks or something?
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2006 5:38 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Wed Aug 02, 2006 7:14 pm
Cool story Jan...and while I don't think it could be transformed into an Rp, it makes a lovely story all on it's own. I just have one complaint...much like the one I had earlier for Crow. In the first paragraph, last sentence, you begin with "Smoke". It's repeated again later in that sentence with "smoky". Slightly distracting but easily remedied.
One thing I did do while on vacation was write. I have the beginnings of two stories, both science fiction, which I hope will develop. I'll try to post excerpts from both in a little while mrgreen .
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Posted: Sat Sep 23, 2006 10:57 pm
A poem about a friend.
How loud can a diary scream
When almost all of the pages
Were written about me?
Just when I thought he was gone
He left a diary
A memory to live on.
His life and his pride
The truth bound inside,
Paper and ink
Chosen with care
Every day he poured
His life in there
Only one page is empty
There's nothing there
Every page screams
Of the hell he survived
But the one that screams loudest
Is the one where he died.
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2006 6:55 pm
Gourou Bandai A poem about a friend. How loud can a diary scream When almost all of the pages Were written about me? Just when I thought he was gone He left a diary A memory to live on. His life and his pride The truth bound inside, Paper and ink Chosen with care Every day he poured His life in there Only one page is empty There's nothing there Every page screams Of the hell he survived But the one that screams loudest Is the one where he died.
"I'll see you tomorrow..."
A simple and rarely dire statement...but it is in the absence of the truth behind that statement that things hit home. Life is fragile...and though it takes years to construct and create, it only takes the briefest moment for it to be taken from us.
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Posted: Fri Dec 29, 2006 10:31 pm
(too lazy to structure XD just read it.)
Calvin Backman fell back out of the passenger seat onto the cold pavement below, screaming as he scrambled away from the bloody mess in the driver's seat. A routine drive to his office, and before they even left the garage from his house a shot rang out from the sky and the next second his chauffer had his forehead, what was left of it, settled on the top of the wheel-- rivlets of hot blood pouring onto his pressed black tuxedo. Calvin came to his feet with difficulty, he felt woozy, like he was going to faint-- but he knew he had to keep moving to stay alive, someone was after him. He dashed around the front of the car, flinging the door open and running inside the safety of his house. The gunner had reloaded by now, another shot came ripping through Calvin's right leg. Meeting with the ground again Calvin wailed as his good leg kicked the door closed, his upper body dragging him to the kitchen counter to ease himself up, a slug-like trail of blood shadowing his movement. Limping to the stairs he set his mind on getting to the panic room in his office, he'd be safe there-- he would live. His sock made an uncomfortable squishing sound each time it met with the ground, it was socked through with blood-- so much came trickling down his leg it sloshed around in his shoes, the feeling made him want to vomit. Halfway up the stairs he heard the door downstairs open and the click clack of fine shoes walking across the kitchen tile casually, like they had only stopped by for breakfast. Calvin screamed, he screamed himself hoarse, his throat taut as a fishing line-- he was going to die, he was going to die. Just as he slammed the door of his office shut it opened again, the rustling of cloth and the resounding click of a pistol hammer coming soon after. Sobbing, Calvin fell to his knees burying his face on his desk. A soft voice came, cold as ice, to Calvin's ears "They say when someone is killed by another, just as they stare down death they get a feeling of warmth; a sensation is released from the brain similar to the sensation of love..Why is that I wonder? Does the soul yearn for death, and so fall in love with their killer? Do all people really just want to die? I like to think I'm doing the right thing when I kill people." Calvin grabbed furiosly at paper until he found his checkbook, waving it in the assassin's face, "Don't kill me! I'll give you all the money you want! Everything I have even!" The gun in the man's hand lowered a bit, his head tilting to the side slightly like a cat perking it's ears at an item of interest, red bangs hung over one of his bright green eyes. "Really? How about..Six million?" Calvin blinked a few times, he was at a loss. "What? Yes! Yes, of course! Oh thank you!" Calvin laughed heartliy, easing himself up to his feet and grabbing a pen to write out a check, taking the bowler off of his head and setting on the desk. "What...Is your name?" the man smiled, Calvin's eyes clearing a bit he saw the man wearing a fine navy blue suit, a black tie, and the glint of a golden watch peaking out from one of his black leather gloves. "Flash." giving a wink, he gave the gun a pretend jolt and made the sound effect with his mouth-- you could think he was named after the flash of a gun's muzzle the way he seemed to be bound to his gun, he held it like a child's hand. Writing out the check with glee and holding it out, Calvin watched as Flash sauntered over to grab the check and stuff it into a coat pocket. Limping towards the door Calvin remained speechless, smiling from ear to ear. "Hey mister, you forgot your hat." Calvin laughed softly, turning around "Oh yes thank-- you..." red roses bloomed on Calvin's chest, blood soaked through his shirt. Flash held the pistol behind the hat, a smoldering hole ripped through the top. Calvin's eyes fluttered, taking in Flash's face one last time before he fell in a heap to the carpeted floor. Patting his chest pocket softly Flash stood over the body, "No sir, thank you."
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Posted: Fri Jul 06, 2007 10:43 am
(I dont really know what you would qualify this as, but its just a little piece of writing I did)
If you had to ask me the biggest thing I‘ve learned in my life, I'd have to say I learned about death. Well, I might not know what death is, but I know what its not.
Its not quick, its not quite and it sure as hell isn’t clean. That’s the reason I cant watch movies.
The gruff and sinister evil doer has the good guy's girl with a gun to her temple, then gets blown away by a well placed shot to the forehead. Clean entrance, splotch of blood on the floor, camera pans back and credits roll.
I cant even begin to tell you the things that are wrong with that.
When I was seven, my uncle took me deer hunting. He got a buck in the side, but it ran off. For the next hour or two we were following a blood trail, but we caught up with it. That was the first time I ever shot a gun. Being technical, my uncle held the gun and aimed most of the way, but I got to pull the trigger. The kick scared the hell outta me, but I got over it. I was so proud I'd actually hit something with my first shot that it didn't matter it whether it was a wounded animal that was resting. I'd drawn blood and that felt... good. I felt that clear sense of power you get when you do something you think is badass cool.
When we got up to the buck, I realized it was still alive, kicking on the ground. My uncle put another bullet into the poor beast, then grabbed it by the horns and slit it's neck.
It wasn't the arterial spray or the copious pool of blood around the animal that unnerved me, blood's never been a problem for me. What got me was that after all that punishment, it was still breathing. Up until that moment, the closest I got to death was James Bond judo chopping Soviets.
That’s when I stopped watching movies.
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Posted: Sat Jul 07, 2007 8:07 pm
I do not know whether or not I should be posting stuff like this else where, but seeing as it is just something I am messing around with, and not actively pursuing, there really is no need for a thread of its own. Besides, I'd like to know what people think about it. This is not the norm of my writing, so its a work in progress at best.
Sometimes its hard to associate yourself with something, especially when the thing you feel closest to is looked down upon by many people whose opinion you respect a great deal. Its not always something petty like your girl friend hating your taste in music or you friends hating your taste in your girl friend. Those are the things that give you the lovable thing I like to call Individuality with a capital "I". Similar to God or The Bible, but not easily recognizable as a highly regarded and zealously protected truth or societal norm. Face it, when was the last time you heard a mom tell her daughter, who has been picked on in school, that she was special. We're special because God loves us, and we can do anything we set our minds to, through God's direction.
Its not that farfetched, but its not really a bad thing either. It just is.
Association and assimilation, but with recognition and renown, is pretty much what every sane person wants in life. Most people already feel it, so it is never a big part of their lives, but allot don't. That’s why self help books are popular. Others find truth in the proverb, "Misery loves company."
Me? I don't know what I associate myself with. If I had to say I associate, or can compare myself with something, I would stall. I’m also pretty good at avoiding the topic and bending the question. Its not that I haven't turned around the looking glass. Every time I do, I see stuff. I just don't have the slightest idea what that stuff is.
Probably some flesh and blood. Maybe pus.
But if I had to, I think I would associate myself with something painful.
Wait. Hear me out for a second.
When you slip cutting vegetables or stub your toe, there’s a horrible feeling that any sane person would hate. Well, I do too. Paper cuts sting like Satan's personal hornets nest. Sears the nerves and makes all sorts of terribly uncomfortable feelings. Many times you wish you never felt it at all. Then you stop and think. That’s how you know something is wrong. That’s how you know not to grab the pan in the oven or listen to pounding music. Yeah, you can get used to stuff, but whenever serious damage would start, you feel pain. If you didn’t, you might just go deaf or lose function in your hand. Nature’s noisy alarm clock- only it doesn’t insist that you really do have to go to work, but that s**t, YOU NEED TO GET AWAY FROM THAT!
Whether or not we appreciate it, Pain is valuable. I like Pain. On principle.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2007 11:11 pm
Sovi may be a closet masochist. Kinky.
-------------
Here's a delightful conversation I had with a friend the other day I thought I'd share. (I am csmiroku, while my comrade in arms Matt is Morca)
[13:49] csmiroku: I tried to make a sandwhich. And not only did someone jack the ham to foil my first sandwhich impulse, they jacked the pepperjack for my second. s**t's about to get real
[13:50] Morca007R: Goddamn, someone is ******** with you
[13:51] csmiroku: indeed. I made a turkey with swiss ultimately but I was not satisfied. And! the coup de whatever. Someone left the chips ahoy pack in the cupboard but lo and behold upon taking it out it's ******** EMPTY
[13:51] Morca007R: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
[13:51] csmiroku: that's the worst
[13:51] csmiroku: I hate when people do that
[13:51] csmiroku: I'm going to leave the seat up in every bathroom in this house for a week
[13:52] csmiroku: So that the other residents in my house may feel my inconvenience
[13:52] Morca007R: People do it all the time here, and by people I mean my sister, I want to kill her with a rusty axe when I find empty boxes in the cupboard
[13:52] csmiroku: Aye.
[13:53] csmiroku: the kind of axe where you think "if this doesn't kill you the hepatitis will"
[13:53] Morca007R: Hell yes, the kind of axe that will make a barbarian jealous
[13:54] csmiroku: The kind of axe that you would pick off of the bottom of some ancient galleon of the undead and keep forever
[13:55] Morca007R: The kind of axe with a thousand storied conquests behind it, each more epic than the last, having slayed countless enemies.
[13:57] csmiroku: The kind of axe that makes calloused hands twitch with yearning to grip it again, that handle that seems to glue your hands to it and speak to the deepest reaches of your black soul
[13:58] Morca007R: The kind of axe that when you have it in your grip, visions of death and destruction play in a demented fantasy before your very eyes
[14:00] csmiroku: The kind of axe with a blade curved perfectly to the crescent of the blood moon, it's smithy driving it's red hot blade off the anvil into his own chest, his blood to cool it's wicked metal as raw meat hisses and screams.
[14:02] Morca007R: The kind of axe that will incite passing men to gape with awe at it's majesty, and women to transform into wanton harlots bent on merely being in the presence of one who possesses it
[14:05] csmiroku: The kind of axe that turns great demonic lords into cowering babes and zealous priests into bloodthirsty marauders, the reflection of it's steel bringing the viewer to rip his own eyes out of his head and scream to ghosts of generations and beg only a quick death before the sight drives his mind to a bloody useless husk of malice
[14:06] Morca007R: The kind of axe that is....Um..... really good.
[14:06] csmiroku: The kind of axe you draw on graph paper during geometry class
[14:06] Morca007R: The kind of axe you wish you had to solve all your problems when you begin to take a test and realize that you have never seen the material before.
[14:08] csmiroku: The kind of axe you spend you too much time in drawing in the details, and after making a faulty squiggle of blood at it's tip want to burst into tears, knowing you ruin the greatest work of your life
[14:09] Morca007R: The kind of axe you fantasize about in bed at night, spend hours describing to your friends, only to have them not fully grasp it's greatness, filthy plebs that they are.
[14:10] csmiroku: The kind of axe you beg to have in D&D insisting to the DM that it is not only +5, talking, and have flametounge but it turns all enemies into gold upon killing them
[14:13] Morca007R: The kind of axe you see in the furthest reaches of an RPG, in the hands of some nameless NPC, which you inevitably battle him for, but due to the sheer amazingness of it, you cannot hope to defeat him for the drop, nonetheless, you try, for you are a moth to it's bright, burning flame
[14:14] csmiroku: You save an extra file in the game and every once in a hazy 4am bender you level up in the area, returning again and again only to feel the sting of defeat. You know there are superior weapons in the game. But you want that one. You would kill a man with your bare hands for it...
[14:15] Morca007R: The kind of axe that you abandon the formula agreed upon through mutual acceptance to write how awesome it is
[14:16] csmiroku: The kind of axe I want to see adorning your head like the plume of some feathered hat
[14:16] Morca007R: The kind of axe I would be proud to have splitting my skull
[14:17] csmiroku: The kind of axe with a chop so precise it would leave most of your mind intact, and you would probably walk around for like a month going about your business with an axe in your head
[14:19] Morca007R: The kind of axe that doesn't merely sing when it swings through the air, but belts out an entire operatic saga
[14:20] csmiroku: The kind of axe with a ring so mighty when it clashes with steel it is heard worlds away, where lumbering beasts bow to the ground in reverence
[14:21] Morca007R: The kind of axe that makes Thor consider trading in his hammer
[14:22] csmiroku: The kind of axe that makes every rocker in the world go back to calling their guitar a guitar and apologize profusely.
[14:23] Morca007R: The kind of axe that even pacifists wish they could use to put the fist back into their name with.
[14:24] csmiroku: The kind of axe that George washington used to cut down a cherry tree. And half of the british army.
[14:25] Morca007R: The kind of axe that sets fires, instead of helping put them out
[14:29] csmiroku: The kind of axe that makes the ladies flock in droves so massive a body spray could never hope to compete
[14:30] Morca007R: The kind of axe capable of reducing a grown man to the mental state of a five year old in his yearning
[14:31] csmiroku: The kind of axe that game designers engage in mortal combat over to see who gets to present it to the board as their idea
[14:32] Morca007R: The kind of axe so ultimately brutal that DethKlok bows down to it
[14:33] csmiroku: The kind of axe that could shatter the blade of a lightsaber.
[14:34] Morca007R: The kind of axe that would make excalibur look like a kitchen knife
[14:36] csmiroku: The kind of axe you see in the back of your magic the gathering magazine and you save money up for it for like a month and you get it and you're super psyched but you don't really have anywhere to put it and the blade keeps getting smeared when you touch it and the leather on the grip starts peeling off after like a month and it looks kind of goofy but you use it for every halloween costume for a decade.
[14:37] Morca007R: The kind of axe that makes me really need to take a shower and be back in like 20 minutes
[14:38] csmiroku: The kind of axe that makes me hold back from saying anything because I'm too busy thinking about how awesome it is
[14:42] Morca007R: the kind of axe that makes me feel really good looking while I'm holding it. (Seriosuly, showertime)
[14:43] csmiroku: The kind of axe that makes me think you're dumb just go and shower
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2007 9:19 am
Wow that is quite a conversation, not only that but quite an ax apparently. xd
~
"Paper cuts sting like Satan's personal hornets nest." And that is currently my quote of the day. lol
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