Joined: Sat Dec 31, 2011 9:14 am Posts: 389 Location: UK
ES Games: Morrowind Oblivion Skyrim
Platform: Xbox PC
Status: Being ruggedly sure
Other Profiles: willsg (Xbox live) wgrenter (Steam)
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So I paint a lot of models and write quite a bit so I thought i'd share some things I do. Here's the opening of a story I'm writing (still don't know what to call it yet):
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It started with a crash. The night wasn't stormy, in fact it was a mild summer's night with no wind or dampness to speak of, yet the crash came from a tree that had been knocked over. Come the morning, the people would think it had been uprooted by the wind. They couldn't have been further from the truth. The truth was that the tree had been felled by something impacting the trunk, though in all fairness to the people who would discover this tree, it was technically an act of God. The thing that had hit the tree was a writhing mass like its form was constantly changing until it finally settled upon a form that resembled the ungodly cross between a rhino, shark and octopus. This creature was a Demon. The Demon though had not chosen to throw itself at the tree, it had in fact been tossed by another figure. This figure stood at eight foot tall and was clad in golden armour inscribed with intricate details and holy runes that covered all features, at the neck the armour became a hood that appeared empty. Attached to the back of the figure was a pair of shimmering wings and from the design of the armour, the figure was undoubtedly female. This figure was an Angel. One of the Angel's arms was outstretched, still holding the pose from tossing the demon. In this hand was a brilliant light that began to extend before solidifying into a sword that erupted with white flames along the blade. "Begone Hellspawn," The Angel announced in a female voice, "This is your only warning." Then she sensed something. Despite it being precisely eleven o'clock at night, a small eight year old boy with messy brown hair and green eyes was awake. He was in the kitchen of the nearby house watching these two beings battle. This boy's name was Christopher Jones. The Angel turned her hood and saw the boy, but there was a problem. So had the Demon. "RUN CHILD!" The Angel cried out in warning as the Demon hurtled towards the house. Christopher did as he was told and ran, he found a cupboard and hid within. Christopher didn't see the Angel tackle the Demon with an armoured shoulder, he didn't see her hack off the creature's limbs before she planted her sword in the ground. He definetly didn't see her lift the Demon by the neck and impale it on the sword. The Angel made her way to the household and opened the door. She ducked under the frame and entered before pausing for a second. The Angel studied her surrounding, the empty hood slowly scanning around the room before it rested on a door. She walked slowly to it and placed a hand on the handle. She twisted it slowly and gently opened the door. Within was Christopher, huddled up in the fetal position. He was looking upwards with one eye filled with panic. "Do not worry child, the creature is gone," The Angel spoke calmly as held out an armoured hand which was as big as the boy's head, "Come now, you should be resting." Christopher gingerly took the grip of one of her fingers. "M-my bed is upstairs," He whispered, not wanting to wake his parents. "Lead the way child," The Angel spoke softly, "I will ensure it is safe." Christopher nodded quickly and led the Angel up the stairs and into his typically childlike bedroom which had various colours and patterns adorning everything. Christopher got into his bed and pulled the sheet up over his head. The Angel turned to leave but was stopped by a small voice coming from beneath the sea of artificial materials. "Will you stay tonight? What if the monster comes back?" The Angel turned and stood in the middle of Christopher's room. "Just for tonight Child." "My name is... Christopher," Christopher yawned. Within five minutes Christopher had fallen asleep and the moment he did so, the Angel was gone. All that remained of the events that night was a fallen tree and the memory in the mind of a small child. And the single shimmering feather in the middle of the Christopher's room...
Joined: Sat Dec 31, 2011 9:14 am Posts: 389 Location: UK
ES Games: Morrowind Oblivion Skyrim
Platform: Xbox PC
Status: Being ruggedly sure
Other Profiles: willsg (Xbox live) wgrenter (Steam)
UESPoints: 0
Whoop, second part of the story done. I'm really enjoying writing this.
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Twenty years seemed to pass in a heartbeat. Christopher decided he would be called Chris and would become an officer law. Over those twenty years Chris turned from a scruffy little boy into a well trimmed young man. Along his journey to adulthood Chris met many people, though only two remain in his life. Jessica Livingston is a vet that he went to school with, she has blonde hair dyed black and amazingly blue eyes- ironically she's the occult. The other person of importance is Jacob Lawson. Jacob is a gentle soul with brown hair and matching eyes, and was Chris' partner in crime as a young child. Now he is the Prime Minister of Great Britain. Chris and Jess share a place in London but their relationship is strictly pletonic. Those two were the only two that didn't brand Chris as crazy when he told the story of the Angel that night and it did claim a huge portion of his life but eventually, he began to believe what everyone had been telling him: he had imagined the whole thing. The only thing that kept an inkling of doubt in Chris' mind was the feather that he still owned. Then, it happened...
The day started as any other would, Chris left an hour before Jess woke up and drove to Scotland Yard. The first thing he noticed that had changed was everyone rushing around and clearing the desk. "What's going on?" Chris asked. "Didn't you hear?" Someone called in a frantic response, The Prime Minister is coming to meet his Police Force." Chris didn't need anymore, he rushed to his desk and began clearing it. He placed the strewn about paperwork into a pile, arranged his pens into some sort of order and took the symbols of protection -which to an outsider would look satanic- that Jess had drawn him and placed them in the bottom of his drawer.
The meet and greet started as expected, Jacob Lawson presented a speech to the entire service, though he then rather unexpectedly went around every room taking a few minutes to speak to every officer there. Finally it was Chris' turn. "Ah Chris, how are you?" Jacob asked as he shook Chris' hand. "I'm good thank you Mister Lawson," Chris replied with a smile. Jacob frowned. "You've known me long enough to call me by my first name," Jacob said, "How's Jess?" "Still single," Chris replied quickly. "You know what I meant Chris," "Exactly why I replied with that answer Jacob," Chris smirked. Jacob chuckled and Chris joined in. "I see she's stopped drawing you those pagan symbols," Jacob observed. "Actually they're in the bottom of my desk," Chris responded before the pair broke out into laughter yet again. "Well send her my love," Jacob said as he started to move on, "It was great talking to you again."
Within an hour, Chris was riding in the front seat of a police car with a new trainee called John Smith when a call came in. "Officers Jones and Smith, we're having complaints about noise in a warehouse near you. Probably just some kids- scare them a little and send them on their way." "On it," Smith replied as Chris turned the car. Within minutes the pair got there and just as Chris turned the car into the complex, Smith spoke up. "What the hell is tha-" The young officer didn't finish his sentence as the police car was suddenly thrown with a trumendous force. It spiralled through the air and smashed into the wall with a crunch. --- Chris didn't know how long he had been unconscious for as he slowly opened his eyes, his head was pounding and he tasted the irony tang of blood in his mouth- but he was alive atleast. Smith though wasn't so lucky. A shard of glass from the windscreen had punched straight through his eye and into his brain, blood still pouring from the wound. As well as this, half of his body seemed to have been crushed by the sheer force of whatever had impacted the car. The first thing Chris noticed was that he was upside down, then he reached out to the radio and picked up the receiver. "This is Officer Christopher Jones. I have an officer down on the scene of our last callout," He managed to say despite the pain he was in. "Officer will be on sight in ten minutes, stay put," Came the reply. Chris didn't stay put, he unbuckled his seat belt and uncerimonuosly fell to the roof. With a grunt, Chris managed to look out of Smith's window to see if what had flipped them was still there. It was. The beast was easily six foot tall and wide and a good seven foot long, it was built of pure muscle and darkness into a sort of living battering ram. It had been curled up as if it had been sleeping but the noise from Chris moving about must have disturbed it as the creature began making it's way to the car on six legs. Chris scrambled for freedom but couldn't get away fast enough. A set of strong arms reached into the car and pulled him out and just as he looked up at the hooded figure a brick was brought down on his head. --- Chris awoke in chains that suspened him off the floor. As his vision began to clear he noticed a group of hooded people chanting in a language that chilled him to his core. Then he saw the two other people chained up, one was unrecognisable from the amount of cuts and blood pouring from his body. The second was a young woman with red hair, the gentle rise and fall of her bloody chest showed she was still alive. The blood was the strangest part however. Rather than just roll of their bodies and pool at the bottom of their body, it instead flowed towards the centre of a candle arrangement surrounded by the hooded people. Once in the middle, the blood began to swirl upwards in the shape of a cartoon tornado. "We need more blood," One hissed. "This one is nearly spent," Another said as he moved to the woman, "Though I say she has one good spurt left in her." The cultist pulled out a knife, the woman tried a weak thrash but barely acheived anything with the combination of being restrained and the amount of blood lost. The Cultist stabbed the knife deep into her neck, severing the artery. The woman let out a week gurgle as the blood pumped out of her neck and she fell still- dead. The blood continued the path the rest of the blood had taken and as it hit the tornado the colour began to change from a deep crimson to a yellowish tone and a roar came from within. "It works!" The one with the knife proclaimed, then a burning white sword appeared in his chest from behind. The Cultist looked down and gave it a "that's not supposed to be there" look before going still. From behind, a golden gauntlet pulled him off the blade revealing the Angel in all her might. "[&@%!]!" A cultist cried, "I thought she said Angels couldn't come here!?" "She also said they couldn't kill humans!" Before the first Cultist could respond, the Angel had moved and lopped his head off his shoulders and in the same movement she had cleaved the second one straight down the middle. The final cultist charged forward with a knife, he posed little threat when the eight foot angel moved with an unatural grace around him and removed his weapon arm sending him to the floor as he screamed in agony. The Angel moved to each of the prisoners and muttered what sounded like a prayer as she placed a hand on each of their heads. When she reached Chris she paused. "It's you," The Hooded Angel said in a tone that hinted to surprise, "Christopher." Chris' mind was reeling, this wasn't just an Angel, this was his Angel. Unable to speak, Chris just nodded. The Angel cut his chains and helped him to his feet, then Chris doubled over and vomited - a delayed response from what he'd seen. Suddenly the bloody tornado surged and a barbed tail whipped out. "Look out!" The Angel said pushing Chris out of the way. The tail smashed into and went through the Angel's gut, impaling her to a wall. From the sheer force of the impact, the Angel dropped her sword. With the Angel impaled and disarmed, the rest of the Demon followed the tail. This one was as tall as the Angel and vaguely humanoid, it had ten inch claws and razor teeth. The Demon began walking to the Angel that was trying in vain to remove itself from the wall. Chris' eyes darted to the Angel's blade and he saw his opportunity. He scrambled to his feet and ran for it. As he reached and lifted the blade, he realised just how heavy it actually was be he managed. With a war cry, Chris charged forward and brought the blade down on the Demon's tail, severing it just infront of the Angel. With a roar of pain, the Demon backhanded Chris, launching him away. In this time, the Angel managed to pull the bit of the tail still inside her and as the Demon turned she plunged the golden ichor stained weapon into it's face, twice. The Demon cried out in agony and fled then there was the sound of screeching tires and a heavy impact from outside and sirens could be heard. The Angel fell to her knees as Chris approached her, even here she was only a little shorter than him. "You're real," Chris said simply. "Evidently," The Angel winced as she looked down at her wound, still dripping the golden ichor. Chris' eyes followed hers and saw it to. "You're wounded," "Evidently," "Do you need help?" "I need to go," The Angel said as she got to her feet but fell again. "You aren't going anywhere in that state," Chris said, "Look you've saved me a couple of times, let me clear out the police and I can help you." The Angel looked up with her faceless hood that unsettled Chris just a little. "Fine."
It took an hour for the police to clear up, the six officers were still trying to figure out what it was they hit with a car and it seemed to disolve away. By an hour and a half they let Chris go after a medical examination due to traumatic experiences. He went straight back to the warehouse to get the Angel. It took a lot, but he finally managed to convince her to get into his car and drove her back to his place. Luckily Jees wasn't home when Chris helped the wounded Angel in and lay her on the couch. He then retreived the first aid kit and looked at the wound, it was much deeper than wide was already beginning to heal, he would just have to stitch it up. "This is going to have to come off, at least around the wound," Chris said gesturing to the armour. The Angel placed her hands on Chris' and guided them to the clasps on her back that would remove the plate, as it came off, Chris was greeted by chainmail and where it had been broken around the wound he saw a hint of porcelain skin. "This is going to hurt," Chris warned. "I am a warrior, I can deal with pain," The Angel said. Chris shrugged and set about stitching the wound shut. The Angel did not cry out, but he did see some muscles tense up. Immediately after he was done, the Angel sat up. "I must go," She said, "I have been here too long." "Not so fast," Chris said as he gently placed a hand on her shoulder, "You have to sit for a minute to let the stitches settle." "Fine," The Angel said though she did not relax back into her seat. After a moment of silence Chris decided to say something. "What did those guys mean when they said an Angel shouldn't be able to find them?" The Angel sighed. "It is one of our sacred laws, we cannot interfere with this world or kill humans for that matter." "So you just broke two laws? Isn't that something Angels don't do?" "Usually yes, but I am something you humans would call a... Maverick?" "Yes that's the right word." Another silence. "There is something here of mine," The Angel said, "I can feel it." "You dropped a feather from your wings," Chris said, "Back when you saved me as a kid." "Destroy it," The Angel said, "It ties you to my world which will lead to more events like today- you do not want to be part of that world." "I can't," Chris said, "It's the only thing that let me know I wasn't insane." "Fine, I cannot force you to do anything Christopher, though the concequences are yours and yours alone," The Angel warned as she stood, "Now I must go, but forget about this life Christopher, forget about me and go back to your life. The woman who lives here with you will only wait so long for you to make an advancement." Chris did not know what to say to that and the Angel went to the window and opened it. "Wait," Chris said, "Can I at least get your name?" The Angel turned her 'head' to him. "Karael," She said and then she became a ball of light that flew off into the sky. Chris sat for a few more minutes when there was a knock on the door. He went over and opened it. Outside was a woman wearing a leather jacket and jeans she had long auburn hair and oddly hypnotising purple eyes. "Take a seat Christopher," She commanded. Chris had a very sudden urge to sit down on his couch, so he did so and the woman sat beside him. "Now Chris- I can call you that can't I? Well my name is Angelica and I am a Demon," She said, "Yes the irony of my name is not lost on me. I'm going to ask you a few questions and you will tell no other human being of this conversation understood?" Chris felt himself nod. "Let's start with all of the Police Officers that saw the demon today shall we?" Angelica asked, "What are their names?"
Joined: Mon May 03, 2010 4:48 pm Posts: 664
ES Games: Morrowind GOTYE (Xbox), Oblivion GOTYE (PC)
Platform: Xbox (original), PC
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AHH! TL;DR on second post!
Actually, I fully intend to read it (im just supposed to be some where else on the Internet right now); the first post has me hooked. However, I suggest you invest in periods. Having been critiqued for doing similar, I recommend you keep sentences short, but detailed. Save all those funny colons and semicolons for the publishes to iron out.
For instance: "The night wasn't stormy, in fact it was a mild summer's night with no wind or dampness to speak of, yet the crash came from a tree that had been knocked over. Come the morning, the people would think it had been uprooted by the wind."
In my high-school-level-English-education opinion I would have instead written: "The night wasn't stormy. In fact, it was a mild summer's night with no wind or damp to speak of. Yet still the crash come from a tree that had fallen. Come the morning the people would think it had been uprooted by the wind."
Okay, so I did a bit of rewording, and I found a few holes to poke in the reasoning of "the people", but I'll let it be. Hopefully, though, you get my point. As always, use the "read it out loud" editing technique to find proper punctuation-ing.
Keep writing though. I do like what little you have so far. I am uncertain of the genre (having not yet read part 2), but I get the feeling it will be something either of a modern take of the old Biblical friends and foes, or else a high fantasy adventure. Of the two, I'd much rather see a mash up between them:
EDIT: Also, not very subtle with the names I see
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