News:

UH SOMETHING BROKE HANG ON

Main Menu

Only Human

Started by Hephastus, September 25, 2007, 12:26:04 PM

Previous topic - Next topic

0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.

Hephastus

Y'ello.

I've decided to repost all my stuff. This is a one shot I wrote.


Just for the sake of remembrance and preservation, here's what the first post looked like on NSider:

"Hello again!

This is another little one shot type thing I did yesterday. Just like with the last one (shameless plug), I was having trouble writing other things, so I just took a break and worked with an entirely separate idea...and this is the result.

It's just a little something about how the life of one can change the lives of many. Part of it is actually based on a true story, so kudos to anyone who can call me on that reference.

Anyway, like always, let me know what you think. As it's ToS-related, I'll definitely need help from those who are ToS knowledgeable, seeing as I've not played that game in three years or so.


Edit: I've edited the story a bit in response to all of your criticism, the charge led by NM21 (see page 2). Ultimately, I think that it's changed for the better. Thank you all for your extremely helpful advice, and thanks to One of Three for helping me cope with a low rank yet again."

...And with that, I'll actually post the one shot in a few seconds.

Hephastus

I carelessly throw a body in front of the assembled crowd. Their eyes feast upon the corpse like dirty scavengers for a bit. After a few moments pass, they finally look back up at me.

"This fool," I give the body a little kick, "managed to escape the ranch somehow last night. We noticed this morning, of course, and immediately sent out a search party. We found him within the hour. Where, you ask?"

I pause for a bit.

"Floating in a river. He's drowned himself. Evidently he had come to the realization that there was no chance of truly escaping, and that suicide would beat any execution or torture by our hands."

A wide grin spreads across my face as I make individual eye contact with a man near the front. Terror pours out from his eyes. He knows what is coming next.

"Your selfish friend may have spared himself, but his actions still cannot go unrecognized. He was certainly right about one thing: we can do a lot worse than drowning you. Ten of you will be sent down into the bunker in response."

Silent pandemonium spread: no one made a sound, but there is chaos in each heart and mind.

Yes, the bunker: a dark, spacious, underground fortification located near the ranch's center. I've never understood why it is built here. My best guess is that, in the unlikely event that we decide to have this place self-destruct, it was constructed for the officials to take shelter in...But nothing like that is going to happen. It won't on my watch, anyway.

The only people– or, rather, the only things – to occupy the bunker here are our captives, these animals. They don't deserve to be called people, as they are subhuman. Calling them animals doesn't exactly do them justice, either, as I would feel greater remorse after hunting any game or swatting any fly than I would killing any of these...objects. Not only do I not feel a pang of conscience, but I enjoy their pain. They aren't like me, nor like any of the rest of us. They're beneath us. That is why this place is called a ranch. They should die; they deserve to die. I am right to kill them.

"Like always, your identification numbers have been chosen at random. Know: it is not any action of mine that brings you this fate, but of his," I tell them. All eyes turn to the dead man. "If you wish to spit upon him and condemn his soul, his body is here for you."

A man next to me begins to call out numbers.

"16599!"

An old, gray haired man– for lack of a better word – separates himself from the crowd, trudging in my direction. After a fair number of steps I signal him to stop. The next number is read.

The bunker was one of the best tools at my disposal. If ever a situation such as this one arises, I jump on the opportunity to send a handful of them down without food and water, where they are to be starved to death. The first day, usually, there is only silence, perhaps accompanied by an occasional cry for mercy from the heavens. By the next morning, though, they have all felt the gut-turning hunger. Shouting becomes more frequent. Eventually, some of them will be driven insane by their empty stomach, and their basest instinct of survival will override everything else. The bunker then harbors the dregs of any behavior to ever be found in nature. Many resort to cannibalism. There is oftentimes fighting, one way or the other. It turns out that the last one to die often is not starved, but drops from loss of blood.

This is better than any other sort of execution or torture because everyone can hear what is going on down there. Shrieks of unreal anguish and pain ring throughout the ranch, and any thoughts pertaining to rebellion, escape, or any misdemeanor hide in the back of their minds. It establishes my dominion of this place like nothing else can.

Nine of them are lined up in front of me. The last number is finally going to be called.

"16633!"

He happens to be standing in front of the pack already.

"My wife, my children...What are they going to do?"

Before anything else happens, another voice is heard from among them:

"I will go for you instead. I do not have a family."

Murmuring buzzes through the air for a bit as the crowd parts and makes way for the one who has spoken. He does not wait for an answer and begins walking out to the others.

I yell for him to stop. He obeys.

"What makes you think you can do this? You have not been cho–"

"I will go," he says again. My eyes take a walk all over him: he wears the same bland, worn rags all the others do; he appears to be of average height and weight among them; he is topped with a head of fair hair, and wears a small beard, as most of them do. He is shackled like the rest of them. There is nothing extraordinary about his body.

After taking all of this in, I look into his eyes. They are a grayish blue. At first glance, there is nothing extraordinary about them, either. After taking a closer look, though, I notice that there is no fear in his eyes. They are sincere and honest, resolute and unclouded. Peculiar...

"Find out what his identification number is," I say softly to the man who was reading off numbers. He promptly jogs out to determine the number before returning to me.

"16670, sir."

This is no extraordinary number, either. Yet his actions seem to be extraordinary, especially for one of them.

"So this means that he is new? Or relatively so?"

"Yessir."

Ha, ha...He has these eyes because he has not been here for long. He does not recognize what he is getting himself into. He is still nothing extraordinary: only ignorant.

"Very well, then. 16670 will replace 16633," I announce.

The one labeled 16633 has a face that glows with happiness. A woman finds him, and they embrace. I watch as his replacement joins the other nine who are condemned to die. His eyes are still fixed onto mine. They show strength and obstinance.

Silence falls among everyone again.

"Take them away. The rest of you are to go back to working."

As the condemned are led to the bunker in a single file line, I break eye contact with him and start to walk in the other direction. It is done.

Something brings me to a stop, though: the silence is broken. I spin around. While marching in line, the replacement bellows out the beginning of an archaic prayer. He sings it to a pleasant melody. His voice is nothing spectacular, but it doesn't falter and sounds decent enough. The singing has shocked the man leading them to the bunker, and he has allowed the line to stop, turning to me with a dazed look. I casually wave for him to proceed. He gives his head a bit of a shake and resumes walking them to their doom.

In a few moments all ten of have joined him in singing. The tune is muffled more and more as they become more distant from me and are shown and sealed away underground. Still, though, the prayer can be heard faintly.

For the first time in many years, I feel a chill run up my spine.


***


Three weeks have passed since I have sentenced that man to the bunker and for three weeks jubilant songs and sacred prayers could be heard all throughout the ranch. Not shrieking, not pain, not fear, not even I, but song and prayer is what governs my ranch.

Though I was able to recognize the prayer the second I heard it, I have never been religiously inclined, and had not known how it is read. The words have now been burned into my head, though:

My God,

You know who I am

And what is to become of me.

Give me the strength and guidance

To live as I should live,

To love as I should love,

And to be who I am meant to be.

Amen.


Yesterday some of those who are above ground began sing along. At first all those seen singing were whipped, but there was little to be done when all of them broke out in song. Not only is it physically impossible to whip them all at once, seeing as there are many more of them then there are us, but many have felt strange beating them while they are singing happily. Additionally, no matter what pain we inflict upon them, they all keep singing as long as there is air in their lungs.

Perhaps I was wrong, and perhaps I have made a mistake. He is something a bit above the ordinary, and I shouldn't have let him go in place of the other one.

It won't matter in the end, though. Already the voices in the bunker are beginning to dwindle. They will all die soon, and everything will be back to the way it was before. They're only men, after all, and no feat, no matter how great, can keep a man from dying.


***


Five weeks. Still there is singing in the bunker, but the melody is not strong. Only one person is still alive down there.

It is him. I know it must be.

How is it that he has survived nearly a month of starvation and dehydration? How is it that his tongue has not run dry? How is it that he does not sleep?

I simply cannot take it any longer. It is early in the morning, only an hour or two from dawn. It's hard to think straight. His voice has been driving me insane over the past couple of nights. I will put an end to it all a bit before sunrise, before anyone else wakes.

There is no need for me to even try to sleep. He has kept me from doing so for a while now. I am sitting in a chair opposite to my bed, where I have been waiting all night. My quarters are otherwise bare, the exception being my spear, which is propped up against the wall beside me. The simplicity of this room is something I've taken pride in: many great leaders in history have had rooms such as this one. It is supposed to wipe my mind bear so it can be put to use to pondering my duties and more important things...Both my mind and my duties, though, have been brought to the mercy of this prayer.

The chirping of birds now accompanies his voice. It is still dark outside, but the sky is no longer a uniform black. Night is slowly turning into day. I stand, take hold of my spear, and exit the small room. It is time.

I slowly make my way through the halls in which all the other Desians here rest. My large boots cause clanking as they slap the metallic flooring. It is no matter, though: no one will wake. Eventually I find the way out into the center of the ranch.

I am greeted by a rush of cool night air as the door opens. The wind carries his voice to my ears as clearly as ever.

I spot the round top of the bunker and walk over to it. Locating the wooden hatch by which it is entered, I slide the bar that seals it up and away. After it is unlocked, I pull the hatch open.

For the first time since he has been down there, he is quiet.

"Come out," I say into the darkness.

It is not long until I can hear movement. I take a few hurried steps away and wait. Sure enough, the man I expected to see emerges from the bunker. He takes a few steps away from the structure he has spent weeks in before coming to a stand-still.

The bunker has taken a toll on his physical appearance: both the hair on his head and the hair on his face have grown darker, longer, and unkept, he seems to be wholly smaller and thinner, and his skin looks pale and drained of life. I take a look into his eyes, though, and see the same serenity and determination as before.

"The rest have starved," he says. "I'm the only one who remains."

"I know."

We continue to stare at each other in deadlock. We are both silent. In my mind, though, I hear a faint buzzing...

"...Will you fight me, then?" He is shackled, but I would still expect him to try something. Yet he's just standing there.

"No. Do as you must."

I clutch my weapon tightly. I am here to kill him...I've killed hundreds of them before. But he is not like the rest of them: the rest of them died in the bunker. If I stab him, will he die? Is he some sort of spirit? Can he be killed?

I take a reluctant step forward and jab the tip of my spear into his belly, swiftly retracting it. I inspect its tip to find that it has been stained red. He groans and brings a hand down to his open wound, stumbling when he finds that his hand, too, is red.

He bleeds. He is only human after all.

As he is bent over clutching his stomach, feeling blood flow out of him like a sliced tube, he raises his head and looks at me. His eyes shine in the darkness. They are the same as before.

I hate those eyes! Why won't he suffer? Why does he refuse to see that I am better than he is, stronger than he is? Why won't he submit to me?

I flip the spear around and, in a downward stab, drive it through is back, releasing it as I feel the vibrations of it striking home. He immediately falls to the ground.

I wait for something else to happen. Maybe he was divine and will ascend into a heaven. Maybe he will be resurrected right here and now. Maybe he will be even too obstinate for death to conquer.

Nothing happens. He remains sprawled out in front of me, inert, my spear sticking out of his back. Blood begins to pool around him. I take a cautious step forward, lean down and flip him over. The glint of strength that his eyes always had is gone. They still maintain their blue color, but they seem to be dulled, as if a light that shone through from behind them had flickered out.

He is dead. He is dead, and I've killed him.

A sweat begins to come across my face. Chills crawl all throughout my body as I stand up.

What is this? He is just like the rest of them...I have killed him like I have the rest of them. He deserved to die like just the rest of them. He is only one of them!

The buzzing sound inside my head becomes less faint.

It is becoming brighter outside. The birds continue to sing...

Oh, god...They are singing his song.

I turn away from his corpse. He is dead. I should go back to the way things were. It is done, finished.

I take a step away, but the birds keep singing his song. I gradually break out into a run away from the bunker, away from the dead man, but still the tune only becomes louder with each step I take. The murmuring in my head comes through clearly:

My God,

You know who I am...

I keep running and try to shake the words out of my head. No! They don't belong there! They are not my words, they are not my prayer. They were his words and his prayer, and he is dead.

The birds' singing matches the words perfectly. Still they both become louder:

...And what is to become of me.

Give me the strength and guidance...

I have run to the ranch's gate. I clasp the cold, metal bars tightly in my palms. I want to get away from all of this, but I can't. This is my life. I let go of the bars and allow myself to fall on the dirt of the ranch.

...To live as I should live...

I look back toward the ranch. Maybe I can get away from here...Maybe I should...

...To love as I should love...

I hold my head as the prayer keeps droning on. Why did I kill him? I shouldn't have...I didn't want him to die...He was better than all of them...He was better than I am...He was of a higher quality...

...To live as I should live...

I do want to get away from here. From him, from the ranch, from death, from killing, from pain...From everything. If he, one of them, was better than I, than each of them can be. They don't deserve to die. I am wasting my time here. I am wasting my life here.

I rise to my feet and exhale slowly, looking to the gate, then to the rest of the ranch, then back to the gate again.

I will go. I must go.

Amen.

The music in my mind seems to decrease in volume slightly. I reach into my left pant pocket until I find the card key that will unlock the gate to the ranch. I get my fingers on it and pull it out when I hear footsteps from behind me. I quickly turn around to find a man rushing toward me with a fist held at his side. The birds join in the chorus again and the words return to my head:

My God...

He lunges toward me, but I catch his punch. He struggles to get his hand free. I take a look at his face and recognize him: this is the one the singing man sacrificed himself for.

You know who I am,

And what is to become of me.

"Stop, stop! I won't–"

He's to knock me on the side of the face. I draw away before he can do anymore damage and simply throw my hands up in the air. The action speaks louder than words, and he stops.

Give me the strength and guidance...

"Give me the key."

"I'll let you go. I'm leaving, too." As I look at his face, I am reminded of the woman that ran up to him after his life was saved.

To live as I should live...

"Where is your family? They're coming with you, aren't they?"

To love as I should love...

He gives me a dazed look for a while, but then the confusion on his face turns into suspicion.

"Don't worry, just bring them here. I'm leaving, too," I say, repeating myself.

He still does nothing but stare at blankly.

And be who I am meant to be....

Amen.

"Fine, then. I'll leave the gate open for you," I say. I reach into my other pocket to retrieve a handful of Gald and walk over to him.

"Take this. It's not much, but it should be enough for you to buy the women something decent to wear." He shifts his eyes back and forth between my eyes and my hand several times before hesitantly accepting the money. "In case you can't afford anything for yourself, I could give you my clothes, too."

To live as I should live...

He immediately becomes fired up: "I'd rather–"

"Alright, then," I say, quickly cutting him off. "But go west from here, away from the forest, because they will search the forest for you first. There's a town not far from here where you can buy clothing. Burn those rags you're wearing now, as they'll do nothing but make you conspicuous."

To love as I should love...

He still seems perplexed by my behavior as I find the place to slide my key. A small green light blinks a few times and the gate slowly opened. I turn back to him.

"I am going now. You should start soon, too. Everyone will wake soon."

And to be who I am meant to be.

With that, I step out of the ranch for the first time in years. Some twenty paces later, I hear a voice behind me.

"Where are you going to go?"

I ignore it and continue to walk away. I do not know where I am going to go, nor do I know what I am going to do there. All I know is that I've lived in self-justified lies far too long: I am doing no good at the ranch. These people do not deserve to die, and nothing productive is happening as a result of killing them. I want to go somewhere where I can do some good and make a difference. I may only be human, but so was he.

The first rays of sunlight finally become visible while I continue to trek away from my past. Watching light vanquish the darkness, I find myself whistling his tune.

It is a melody and a man I will always remember.

Amen.

Retronerd

Note: I have never played any ToS game.

Even though I had never played the game I still found this quite enjoyable. I had to read it twice to fully understand it.

You started of with a great intro sentence; I instantly wanted to read the rest. And you keep it up, sooner then I know it I've finished the story.   

I first thought that you switched first person between two people: the manager (the real one) and the guy with the family.

You didn't add much detail but you used the right words to make it fell like there where detail (if that makes sense.) For example when you used the narrative tune about telling the yells of screams in the bunker I could imagine it quite well, just not what the floor and walls looked like.

First time I read this I hated it. But reading it a second time I liked it. Getting one thing mixed up can change someone's mind on a story.

Well my only tip is: maybe add more detail. That's the only thing I could think of. Great story.

Well I'll read your other one now. Oh and the first sentence was the best line in the story.

7Deadly$ins

Wow~~ I really liked this. It's not often I can find ANYthing to do with Desians or human ranches... are you going to continue this?
http://z6.invisionfree.com/BatenKaitos

The biggest Baten Kaitos forum in existence; join today~!

maji

For the sake of a truly in-depth response to this, I've made a few examples to illustrate my points more easily. In no way do I mean them as an insult to your skill as a write, so please do not take them as such. I would find that very horrible, as I'd hate to offend you in any way at all.

Consider this dialogue: "This fool managed to escape the ranch somehow last night." The word "somehow" doesn't seem to fit in there for me. In natural speech, it'd either not be there at all or be elsewhere. Listen to people speak, it's great dialogue practice; you'll also notice that adjectives and adverbs are often said very near their objects, thus, "somehow" would've been said before "managed," the word if modifies, or even "escape," which it could also be taken to modify even if this isn't how the grammar actually is. Yes, it's great to give people, especially focal characters, a unique manner of speaking, but pushing it past the boundaries of natural speech (especially what's natural for a gaming universe you're writing into) tends to detract from the dialogue and weaken it. From personal experience, I can say this is best avoided.... >.>

Consider this line as well: "Yes, the bunker: a dark, spacious, underground fortification located near the ranch's center." "Located" is unneeded, how else can the bunker be near them? Thought is quick and fast-paced, not articulated in any manner, unless the character's rather reflective and is himself thinking, not living as this character was. "Near" is the shortest and says enough. In the same sense, "dark, spacious" could be removed as well: It's underground, so of course it's going to be dark, and who cares if it's spacious or not? Certainly not this man. Simply put, adding auxiliary words is unnecessary and simply clutters the writing.

Consider this, too: "Find out what his identification number is," I say softly. Ack, but, eh, excuse me, this man, this POWERFUL man, is just defied, and he asks SOFTLY? I can't believe it. I heard him speak forcefully, sternly, firmly...far from softly, far from the downy softness of a duck. Okay, you didn't say it like a duck, but just putting things in perspective, 'kay? Did he sound like a soft widdle ducky? I don't think so. Quote in queue: Avoid adverbs when narrating dialogue. Only rarely do you need anything more than just "say" or "said," and when you do need an adverb, it better modify "said," not the dialogue. (One might argue, as the verb is projecting the dialogue, they are one and the same, but they are not. If the adverb denotes emotion, such as "softly" does [a calm, kind, "soft" demeanor], it's modifying the dialogue, not the verb. Adverbs such as "slowly" or "quietly" are acceptable, but even still, it's best to let your dialogue speak for itself, meaning: No adverbs!) And, of course, my uppercase and exclamation points were for emphasis, not for shouting.... I don't like to yell! Especially online. Even more so to friends. :)

Observe: "He has these eyes because he has not been here for long." Back to needless words, I say. Try reading this without "for": Doesn't it seem to pack a more powerful punch than before? Few words are read unconsciously without drawing attention to the writing itself (thus drawing attention away from the story, where it should be), and these are "said" and, in most cases, "and." Words other than these (and these, too), when not needed, should be left out. It may not make much difference to the writer when he reads it, but it does worlds of wonder to the reader.

Here's another example, and I promise, it'll be my last: "[the dead man's eyes] seem to be dulled, as if a light that shone through from behind them had flickered out." Now consider this alternative: "they seem to be dulled, as if a light shining through them had flickered out."

This was your biggest weakness here, Hephastus, jumbling the writing with unneeded words. They didn't do much to build his character, either: He thought too articulately, thought too much. It heavied the writing and made it almost boring to read on in places; when it did get too heavy, though, it seemed to pull up and go on well, so it wasn't enough to ruin the story, just weaken it.

Towards the end, where I saw the greatest differences to the other version, I enjoyed the rising tension as you repeated the prayer and broke up the paragraphs more (which naturally adds to the tension as well, whether it's consciously known or not). But it seemed to reach a peak when the man ran at him, a part that I know understand more wholly, but brought the rising tension to a sudden halt. All his actions drawn out, all 16633's actions drawn out, it lowered the tension when it should've been kept steady. Nevertheless, it seemed to return a bit when he began running, and that final Amen was like a last drumbeat, very finite and fitting for closure.

Though I think I prefer the other version (simply because I read it first, so the second didn't elicit the same emotions as strongly as had the first), this version (which I think you said was written first...) was still quite enjoyable and worthy of its first-place FotW win. Good work, Hephastus.
My primary residence has moved to this forum. I've enjoyed it here, so I'll keep coming back as long as my friends are here, but I'll primarily be over there if you need me urgently.

Hephastus

It's respondin' time.

Quote from: Retronerd on September 27, 2007, 10:09:25 PM
Note: I have never played any ToS game.

Shouldn't make a bit of difference.

Even though I had never played the game I still found this quite enjoyable. I had to read it twice to fully understand it.

...I'm glad, but the latter sentence troubles me. It's never a good thing if the reader has so much trouble understanding your writing or your message that it has to be read more than once, especially considering that I'm not exactly writing War and Peace type material, XD.

You started of with a great intro sentence; I instantly wanted to read the rest. And you keep it up, sooner then I know it I've finished the story.   

Good, glad to hear that, too. If a story doesn't start with a good hook, than the rest of it may not be read...Or, even if it is, you can really get them interested with a nice hook.

I first thought that you switched first person between two people: the manager (the real one) and the guy with the family.

...Huh. I'm thinking as to how you could've come to that, and I'm really not sure. Can you explain your thought process, or were you just expecting a change because of the page breaks, or...?

You didn't add much detail but you used the right words to make it fell like there where detail (if that makes sense.) For example when you used the narrative tune about telling the yells of screams in the bunker I could imagine it quite well, just not what the floor and walls looked like.

You're in a long line of many to have said this to me...Which means it's definitely true. I can see myself writing like that, as I know for a fact that I read that way...A pretty long while ago, a friend of mine had me read Redwall, and the man kept going off on these huge multi-paragraph long descriptions of what the mice were eating...I'm sure it's a great epicurean feast and all, but there ought to be something better for you to write about, XD.

First time I read this I hated it. But reading it a second time I liked it. Getting one thing mixed up can change someone's mind on a story.

Certainly can...I wish I knew what it was that you got you so mixed up >.> Well, I'm glad you sorted it out, in any event.

Well my only tip is: maybe add more detail. That's the only thing I could think of. Great story.

Thanks, I'll be sure to keep description in mind, as you and many others have said I could use some more of it.

Well I'll read your other one now. Oh and the first sentence was the best line in the story.

Whether or not I wanted it to be that way, I'm glad you liked it, XD. I'll respond to your other comment in a second.


Quote from: 7Deadly$ins on September 29, 2007, 07:57:38 PM
Wow~~ I really liked this. It's not often I can find ANYthing to do with Desians or human ranches... are you going to continue this?

I'm really glad you liked it. Thanks a lot for taking a look...But no, I don't plan on continuing it. I wrote it as just a stand-alone story, and, unless if some revelation hits me as to how I can make it something longer, that's the way it'll stay.

Quote from: maji on October 01, 2007, 02:58:29 PM
For the sake of a truly in-depth response to this, I've made a few examples to illustrate my points more easily. In no way do I mean them as an insult to your skill as a write, so please do not take them as such. I would find that very horrible, as I'd hate to offend you in any way at all.

Psh! You don't have to worry about that. Even if you were just bashing away at me without reason, and I know you aren't, because...well, because you're Maji, it's still an earnest and valid opinion I can take something out of. Any kind of feedback is good feedback, unless if it's dishonest...The only NSider I know in real life gave me a lot of positive feedback on this story, but later told me in person that it was "disappointing." That threw me off a bit >.> Whatever it is, just tell it to me straight, and I'll be fine with it.

As for being condescending: that's nothing to worry about, either. The fact that you're considering that far ahead proves to me that you aren't condescending in any way at all...I couldn't sworn that I've gone through explaining to you that you manage to be both very intelligent and mature as well as approachable and understanding, and, thus, not condescending at all. God knows, though...Everything I said at NSider seems like so long ago, XD.

Enough of all this, though. Down to what you have to say...


Consider this dialogue: "This fool managed to escape the ranch somehow last night."

*considers said dialogue* What're you going to tell me, that "somehow" should be near " "managed" ?

The word "somehow" doesn't seem to fit in there for me. In natural speech, it'd either not be there at all or be elsewhere. Listen to people speak, it's great dialogue practice; you'll also notice that adjectives and adverbs are often said very near their objects, thus, "somehow" would've been said before "managed," the word if modifies, or even escape, which it could also be taken to modify even if this isn't how the grammar actually is.

I called it! XD. Fair point...Funny how lots of people split their infinites thinking it sounds more proper when it's really not good English...at all. Anyway, you 'n GRD have pretty much had me realize that I've got issues with writing dialogue in the vernacular or just in general...It's just one of those things, like my lack of physical description, that I should evidently always keep in mind.

Yes, it's great to give people, especially focal characters, a unique manner of speaking, but pushing it past the boundaries of natural speech (especially what's natural for a gaming universe you're writing into) tends to detract from the dialogue and weaken it. From personal experience, I can say this is best avoided.... >.>

Consider this line as well: "Yes, the bunker: a dark, spacious, underground fortification located near the ranch's center." "Located" is unneeded, how else can the bunker be near them? Thought is quick and fast-paced, not articulated in any manner, unless the character's rather reflective and is himself thinking, not living as this character was. "Near" is the shortest and says enough. In the same sense, "dark, spacious" could be removed as well: It's underground, so of course it's going to be dark, and who cares if it's spacious or not? Certainly not this man. Simply put, adding auxiliary words is unnecessary and simply clutters the writing.

Lawl. This is fitting because I've told a number of people about useless adjectives cluttering a sentence and ruining the basic meaning of the writing before, and it appears that I'm just a hypocrite. ...Nothing to say but "fair point."

Consider this, too: "Find out what his identification number is," I say softly.

*Considers* ...I think the only thing in there that you can really challenge is "softly." An adverb problem, perhaps?

Ack, but, eh, excuse me, this man, this POWERFUL man, is just defied, and he asks SOFTLY?

Oh, yeah, I'm 2-2! I'm not even cheating, either...XD

I can't believe it. I heard him speak forcefully, sternly, firmly...far from softly, far from the downy softness of a duck. Okay, you didn't say it like a duck, but just putting things in perspective, okay? Did he sound like a soft widdle ducky? I don't think so. Quote in queue: Avoid adverbs when narrating dialogue. Only rarely do you need anything more than just "say" or "said," and when you do need an adverb, it better modify "said," not the dialogue. (One might argue, as the verb is projecting the dialogue, they are one and the same, but they are not. If the adverb denotes emotion, such as "softly" does [a calm, kind, "soft" demeanor], it's modifying the dialogue, not the verb. Adverbs such as "slowly" or "quietly" are acceptable, but even still, it's best to let your dialogue speak for itself, meaning: No adverbs!)

...So that way I'm not just telling you "fair point" for this entire time, I'll go ahead and see what I can do to...sort of...justify myself. Though I realize that he isn't at all supposed to be a soft man, he's talking to one of his guys. A lot of times, when there's a really strong hatred of something, there's a strong fondness for everything not included in that group...So, if the narrator really hates the guts of these captives, than he'll probably really like his own men quite a deal as a result. Far-fetched, I know...But I think more than anything else, this was just an issue of poor word choice. I really didn't want to make any connections between him and a "widdle ducky," but, instead, I meant to just have him speak quietly, as I described the guy as being right next to him, so...I suppose the best adverb would be "quietly," but even that would be a stupid idea, as "say quietly" may as well be "whisper." So, yet again, I am left with nothing else to say but "fair point." I'm still going to remain pretty adverb-happy, though, if for no other reason because it's one of the few things I can use to describe well, and it's a field that I need to work in. ...I realize, of course, that the best way to describe something would be to be kind of creative and use, say, some aphorisms, but I have trouble with those, too, so I run to adjectives, adverbs and their verbal friends for succor, XD.

And, of course, my uppercase and exclamation points were for emphasis, not for shouting.... I don't like to yell! Especially online. Even more so to friends. :)

Of course = D . Even if you were to get a bit frustrated and feel the need to yell at me a bit, though, it'd still not be an issue...I'm pretty much half asleep 24/7, so a bit of yelling can give me a jump and grab my attention. Caps work that way when lazily and quickly reading, too.

Observe: "He has these eyes because he has not been here for long."

* Observes * ....Okay, what is redundant in this sentence...I could contract "he has not" into "he hasn't," but I think that's too trivial for Maji. I can't find anything else, though. Is it the contraction, or...?

Back to needless words, I say. Try reading this without "for"

...2-3. Ah, well.

Doesn't it seem to pack a more powerful punch than before?

It's not that powerful a sentence to begin with, really. I see what you mean, though.

Few words are read unconsciously without drawing attention to the writing itself (thus drawing attention away from the story, where it should be), and these are "said" and, in most cases, "and." Words other than these (and these, too), when not needed, should be left out. It may not make much difference to the writer when he reads it, but it does worlds of wonder to the reader.

Alright, then. Erm, for uniformity: "fair point."

Here's another example, and I promise, it'll be my last:

As if you're doing something bothersome, XD. I don't mind: ramble on, Maji. I could sit down and listen to people talk about my own writing all day...And there aren't many things that I could sit down and do all day, either >.>

"[the dead man's eyes] seem to be dulled, as if a light that shone through from behind them had flickered out." Now consider this alternative: "they seem to be dulled, as if a light shining through them had flickered out."

Hum. Well, to say something for myself: my version emphasizes that the shining was definitely something gone and done in the past. Definitely another fair point, though.

This was your biggest weakness here, Hephastus, jumbling the writing with unneeded words. They didn't do much to build his character, either: He thought too articulately, thought too much. It heavied the writing and made it almost boring to read on in places; when it did get too heavy, though, it seemed to pull up and go on well, so it wasn't enough to ruin the story, just weaken it.

Boring readers is pretty much the worst thing I could possibly do. Thanks for pointing this trend out to me, as I'm sure it'd go completely unnoticed otherwise, and I definitely don't want any readers to feel like banging their head into a rusted spike out of sheer boredom. I know the feeling from reading certain things for school.


Towards the end, where I saw the greatest differences to the other version, I enjoyed the rising tension as you repeated the prayer and broke up the paragraphs more (which naturally adds to the tension as well, whether it's consciously known or not). But it seemed to reach a peak when the man ran at him, a part that I know understand more wholly, but brought the rising tension to a sudden halt. All his actions drawn out, all 16633's actions drawn out, it lowered the tension when it should've been kept steady. Nevertheless, it seemed to return a bit when he began running, and that final Amen was like a last drumbeat, very finite and fitting for closure.

Good. It is reassuring to hear that that scene, though it did kill the suspense a bit, is now a bit less rushed and confusing, as I was told so by a few people on the first version. The way you took the Amen is just as I wanted you to, which is always good to hear.

Though I think I prefer the other version (simply because I read it first, so the second didn't elicit the same emotions as strongly as had the first), this version (which I think you said was written first...) was still quite enjoyable and worthy of its first-place FotW win.

I still have all sorts of suspicions running through my head about FotW...anyway, a lot of this really was a second version, because while I did first write it with the prayer included, it wasn't pounded into the reader as it is here, but just briefly mentioned. I can understand liking whatever it is you see first, but, as the writer, I like the one that I put the most work into best, XD.

Good work, Hephastus.

Thanks, Maji. The only thing better than an immensely helpful post is a second immensely helpful post, XD. I hope I can soak most of this in and improve quickly.