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Post by Jac on Sept 26, 2010 19:19:41 GMT -6
so, the project here is to keep a story going for the entire term, and in the same genre. i chose fantasy... and the hard part? you have to include the special words that she chooses each week. here is my first week's
[ DONE IN ABOUT 40 mins ]
Critique please.
EDIT: UPDATED 10/5/10 5pm EST,
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Another day, another dollar was the only thing that kept her going. A day behind that old broken counter, tracking the money and greeting everyone who walked past her was how she lived. And it was because of that job that she could live on. Her salary was small, but her life was simple and required no more than that simple little boost to keep her above bankruptcy. She was a poor girl, living in rags, but her work required an outfit, and she lived borderline for a few weeks, eating only when she was about to faint, and limiting her meals to but the cheapest foods. Of course, she never dared to get sick so she had to make sure she bought food for one day, and one day only. And soon after such foods were bought, they would be stored away inside her, so she wouldn’t have to purchase a refrigerator. She took on any job thrown at her, and she worked hard to please her boss.
Today, his task for her was to man the counters for twenty hours. She would get paid a little bit more, and for that little bit of money, she was willing to go that far. After all, what else did she have to do? She had no life besides the one that she led behind that broken counter, leaving only to rest and coming back just to continue. Someone had left the job, finally earning enough money and seeming good enough to become a higher ranking working member of the working economy. After all, this was a hard job. But this wasn’t the only life she led.
The clock chimed midnight, and she packed her bags and hurried to close the shop. She could hear the faint ticking of her watch. It was too silent. She had no idea why she was forced to stay here until this time, but she didn’t care. She had two lives to live, and it never bothered her that she worked so hard in this one.
She ran off into the darkness, left fingers tracing the wall to her left, right hand swaying with her body’s movement. The tips of that crusted hand felt the cool air seep from the wall into the very tips of them, flowing up towards her arm, and leaving a cool path in her muscles. But none of this made her slow her pace. It was midnight after all, and she had no time to waste, enjoying herself in the pure darkness of night.
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I live in a historic town, my home being one of the oldest. It was a family heirloom, but we were never known to be good with money, so the only thing they were ever able to pass down was the home of their ancestors. Her family used to be rich, until one of her ancestors died in the war—The Great War that is. The biggest in history, and some say, it’s not the end of the fighting. We lost a great deal during that war, but that didn’t stop my family from building a great home, and we even have our own estate. Now, to support such land is no easy feat, but I seem to manage. After all, I’m not working alone.
We have a special tree by the orchard in our yard. It has this great hole in it, and a special way of opening it. It brings us to another world, one full of life and peace. A place where we can rid ourselves from the fury that causes such disasters. My family is rich because we were the founders of much more than people expect, but we keep to ourselves. Our society is small, and those of us who moved to the human world, now known as Earth are also few. But those who do can carry on a great life. My family, however, prefer to work hard, for the food at our table, and the land that we own. But if it gets too bad, we might pull a few strings in the human society.
You see, our specialty lies in magic. We are not human, but we aren’t pale or sparkly like a vampire. We are the past, and we are the future. We carry on the traditions, and decide the end of one’s life. Our job is to control the world subtly, and we do so in our own way.
I raced down the old dirt road, eyes glaring into the deepest of the shadows, looking for that traitor who would be watching me fly, but no one was there, and that was all that I needed. With evanescent footsteps, I crossed the way into the forest. I would be safe there. I reached out for the nearest tree, feeling the hard bark moaning towards the rest of the trees. It was becoming too old, and its life would end soon. I could see their death already marked on their face. You see, we don’t see like you do, we see with the eyes of a god, or possibly a demon. It depends on how you look at it.
We decide death, and we decide life. We choose for those who are unable to choose, and support those who have complete faith in their dreams. We modify thoughts, and control minds when it comes to the need, but most of the time, we sit there with patient eyes, in the form of some animal or perhaps their spirit animal, helping people in their ways.
Today, my target had already been selected. Once home, I walked straight towards the portal in the old oak tree, long dead, yet still alive. We kept it alive, because it wished to live on, and we needed it to house our portal—the portal to the conference for us strange ones.
One foot entered the tree, and appeared on the other side, eyes taking one last glance around in my human form, I stepped through.
And on the other side, I appeared as a unicorn. Now, I’m one who can shift shape into nearly any animal, for I was born a helper, and a patient girl. My mother had taught me the virtues of patience, and I had learned them and taken them to heart. Patience was my virtuosity, and it was the one skill that I would use to help others. Patience was all that I was great at, sharing it as my skill. I could teach them, or I could simply lie there and listen to them. But I wasn’t one for action, nor was I one graced with amazing strength or speed. I was graced with patience, and it would be with patience that I would work.
But my next assignment might be harder than I originally imagined. I was to help a criminal, and one that was near impossible to find… For humans, anyways. As unicorns, we have a network set up through magic and portals that lets us see everything everywhere at any moment. We have trackers on portals that see and hear and track every inch of movement anywhere. But to search for someone through the entire world is much easier than you would think. We simply have to know what they look like, and project ourselves into the magic web, and it will show us where they are.
I was surprised to find, my briefing would only consist of a sheet with their information, my job, and a picture of them papercliped to the top. I know what you’re thinking--- Why would unicorns use paperclips etc, when they could be using magic? You know, I’ve been asking myself the same question for years, but I never found out why.
I was surprised to find, when my white horn connected with the web, to find my target defenestrating through a window, carrying a bag of some sorts. It was probably something that he just stole, and was caught, and now was finding a way out of there. Great, just great. I hobbled away from the silver web, a web of connections through most of both worlds. My leg was a bit sore from leaning on it all day, and I gave a look towards my friends. They knew that I got a terrible assignment, because, I only looked that way once before. And let me tell you, I was surprised I even lived through the last terrible one. I wasn’t going to be surprised if I died this time though. One of them loped over, a slow pace, but a very elegant move and they took a quick glance at my assignment, and then gave me a pejorative look. But he is so sprezzatura; he would never understand how I feel. He was so bold and amazing, yet calm and collected in some way.
“You know you’ll be fine, just like you were last time,” he projected towards my mind. Now, you’re probably lost, and I acknowledge that. Humans don’t understand the way that we think. We project our thoughts to others in images, pictures, memories, and other forms of thought, and help others understand that way. We have no written form of language, but as unicorns, we simply pass on our memories or store them in the great network.
It was then, that something hit me. He was a human, and humans required names to communicate. Or so it seemed from the experience I had gained from the real world. We of the other world have no such need. We follow that of our thoughts, and project ourselves to one another when sharing. In the process, others learn of our identities. We have no need to speak directly, but rather, the entire race is connected by mere thoughts. Although it’s a bit of a thin strand, but it helps us all feel and hear where and what each and every one of us is at.
We are connected, thus our community is very tight. But there are nomads among us too. But they are strong and very powerful ones, who roam off, and connect when they wish, and disconnect without another thought. Those of us without those powers can only stay connected, not only for our lives, but for the sake of our race. I suppose, that is how our lives are created. But we are not only powerful, but we live for as long as we can, supposedly immortal, but really, we just make sure all of us are healthy and strong.
Those nomads I told you about? Yeah, I heard they are frightening and strong. The very subject had piqued my interest once upon a time, but those older than me realized my thoughts with a horror, and quickly put it out of my mind. See, as a race, we aren’t very free thinking. Sometimes, I envy those humans, wondering how they live without the constraints on their thoughts. But maybe there is a good part to all this too. We never have to worry about being over populated and only increase when one dies. Although it may seen horrid, but it’s not as bad as you may imagine it to be. We have hatching grounds, and those within the eggs will start projecting thoughts that are caught in our web and then we’ll know someone is ready to come into the world. That’s when the mother rushes over and helps their child out of their egg. You see, we, unlike humans, are born from eggs that also grow until the hatchling is ready.
I’ve seen one hatch before, you know. The mother, in all her excitement, sent the thought out to the entire race, and we watched as the little one splaying on their first step, falling clumsily and then legs spreading wide, but slowly being nudged up by their mother. While many seemed to act like they were oblivious to the thoughts that were being sent out, I was so intrigued by the young little foal. I never could remember what I was like when I was born, but I was sure it was far better than that foal had been doing. But I suppose that’s what everyone thinks about themselves.
It was then, that I realized my mind had wandered, and snapping back to reality, I bowed towards my elders, rushing back into the portal, projecting my destination towards the magic sand spread around my hooves, making a light crunch at every step. I sighed at the sound, letting the soft whisper of the wind come over me and take me into their world of thoughtlessness.
I stepped out of the portal, dressed still as a young girl from a grocery store, wearing her outfit, and holding a rag. I put a hand to my hair and realized how tangled it had become. Replacing my hand at my side, I sighed as one charcoal strand fell down into my face. Blowing it away, I rushed back into my house. I would need a better disguise and somehow get myself situated near my target.
My hand went to my pocket, drawing out the file on him.
A thief … how hard would it be for me to confront him? I mean, I could pretend I never saw him, let him steal from me, then follow him, but that would never work. He’d think I was insane, or even try to kill me, in which case, I’d likely panic and shape shift into my other form. Then another thought struck me. How would I get there? After all, he’s in the middle of Boston or someplace far from me. I flipped to the packet, and watched as the words on it changed, constantly updated on his location. The numbers flipped around before settling on 42°21' N, 71°5' W. I would never know where this was, and I couldn't bother going back into the other world and once more being completely controlled.
With a reluctant hand, I grabbed my jacket, and headed back into the crisp morning air. I would have to visit my dear friend and pay him a visit. After all, he lived in the contiguous town, and I would have to get there and back before nightfall. What about him makes me have to visit him, you wonder? He’s a cartographer.
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Post by Darkstar on Sept 27, 2010 18:00:24 GMT -6
As promised, I read it. I found it really good, actually, but since I hate it when people just say, "Oh my gosh! That is so fantastic!" I might as well chime in with something.
And on the other side, I appeared as a unicorn. Maybe instead of just coming out and saying that you appeared to be a unicorn, describe it first. Hair color? Horn? ETC . . . (Yes, I know you say something about the horn later on. I'm just saying. XD) This way, you can create a picture inside of the readers mind instead of just saying that you were a unicorn. It also will add more words, fillers if you will. XD I also really enjoyed reading the prologue. Unlike some stories that I have read that have been published, the prologue makes me want to keep reading on. It left me with some kind of . . . lost the word . . . but it made me want to see what ever happened to the girl. |
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Post by Jac on Sept 29, 2010 17:04:05 GMT -6
x3
i love the prologue too... even if I wrote it. But it's just too .. well, delicious, I suppose. I was like, in a good mood when I was writing it. [ cramming it, really, at like, 11pm?! ]
and, I was writing too much as it is, I was like, - removes loads of details -
since this should be a ' paragraph ', but instead, it's THREE pages.. >< if I added one more word, it would be onto the next page. And we all don't want THAT ... x3
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Post by Darkstar on Sept 29, 2010 17:37:31 GMT -6
Haha. I know how you feel. I made this epic prologue, I just can't seem to get the story part the way I wanted it to.
So, is this for a class or something, or is it just for fun? I never really got that part. XD Because if it is for fun, then I don't see a problem with adding extra descriptions and such.
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