Contents:
Link to role play
Post that needs criticism
Question(s)
Link to role play
Post that needs criticism
Question(s)
Here's the role play:
http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?t=16146237
And here's the post:
The girl opened her eyes when she was awakened from a good sleep. She wasn’t awakened by anything, and she didn’t feel irritated about that. She got used to waking up at that time of hour. She didn’t need an alarm clock or a wake up call. She lifted her head of her fluffy pillow, and as she did, she held the blanket up with her so that she could get out of its warmth. She did so rather willingly, without any second thought of staying in for the cosy bed she had slept in for years. As she got out of bed, the wooden floors creaked, another thing she was at first irritated about, but had now learnt to ignore. She turned around to tidy up her bed. She placed the blanket directly over the mattress, and flattened it to neaten it, letting out a breath of satisfaction after the job was done. Before she went off to brush her teeth, she went to the right side of the room so she could look at the scenery outside the window. It wasn’t just the wooden floors at the bottom of her bed that would creak as she walked, certain areas of the floor creaked as well, but they didn’t creak with every step she took.
The girl was wide awake, so the sunlight that shone through wasn’t blinding at all. Also, it was pretty early in the morning, and the sun didn’t rise nor set there, so it wasn’t at all too bright, but just right. She looked from the bottom up, so the first thing she saw was the green, green grass, and the land of golden crops and jade green vegetables that the two women of the orphanage had planted. In the middle of the crops and vegetables stood a scarecrow, with a turnip like head and two buttons for his eyes. His clothes were not held up by stuffed, tied up hay; they were simply placed through its head like a cloth hanger. The cloth was filled with patches, and after all those years of being exposed to rain and windy days, it still looked like the day she and the two women in the orphanage first made it. As she kept on looking, there was, only grass, and finally, a few pine trees. Above them stood mountains, pointing up towards the sky, and oh how she hated every time she got up to the part where she had to look at the sky, for she was reminded of the wars between the angels and the demons. Then, she looked at the scarecrow.
The girl’s hands formed two tight fists. She looked down, feeling disgracefulness and great humiliation. “What am I doing? Why am I looking out a window in a wooden, old house? Who knows what could be happening there, soon there might even be raining blood!” She could no longer ignore it any longer, although she did try to ignore it after all these years, to stay alive and to keep the two women in the orphanage blissful. Deep inside her, she knew that to stay for the sake of her life was a cowardly thing to do. If changing the war could bring joy to those couples who weren’t meant to be, to give their offspring a much easier life than to hide away from the eyes of the angels and demons forever, to die would mean that more than one person can benefit from it. Sacrificing her own happiness and the happiness of the two other women seemed like such a glorious thing to do. She wanted to be a scarecrow, to stand up for many, many years, doing its job of protecting both the vegetables and the crops, whether it was rain or shine. She wanted to look up at the sky again, to look up with hope and a smiling face, and as she looked up, she wanted to have thoughts of angels and demons living happily with one another.
She kept the desire to do it for so long, and now she had finally decided to tell it to the two women. They were the only people that she could turn to; they were the only two women that she could turn to and ask about how to get up there, and down there. They were the only two people she knew who had seen the two realms of the angels and the demons. They both know the war between them, they might even know people who have tried and sacrificed themselves. To get to heaven or hell, she had to get the idea through their heads; she had to get them to help her with this. And so, she brushed her teeth, changed into her clothes, and stormed downstairs. She had to do something, the faster she could get things done, the faster the war would be ended. When she got downstairs, she didn’t have to look around if she wanted to know where they were; she heard the sounds of pots and pans and the sound of something frying. The two women were making breakfast for the orphans. After the girl walked a few steps forward, she stopped. “Maybe I should help them out with breakfast and the kids, and then I’ll talk to them at the end of the day. By then they would have no excuse to escape or change the topic of the conversation.”
Question(s):
I actually planned on expanding it further where she actually takes care of the children in the orphanage (options on expanding upon this were describing the orphanage and the kids in the orphanage, so there would have been a lot more details) and at the end of the day, the frantic argument begins, (a lot of emotion and more stories) but I thought people should be given a chance to be involved in the plot and so I decided to post them in another one. Should I do this? Or should I have continued until a scene ends? Is there another way I can do this without having to worry about giving others a chance to create a twist in the story? Should I worry about it? How can I expand this?
(Feel free to add as many suggestions as possible)
