Red Heart: Prologue
Sarah... I still cant get used to that name. It seems so strange to me. Is that me? Is that who Im supposed to be? It is, I know that, but... Every time I hear it, every time they call me by it, I have to stop and think. To remind myself that it is me they are calling. This name... It still feels foreign to me. Like it denotes another person. But then, I have been a very different person since I came here, so I guess thats appropriate. Sarah... It seems so foreign, and yet... So dear to me. It represents who I want to be, what I want to be. I would give so much if I could forget the person I once was. It still pains me to this day, but the past cannot be forgotten. Should not be forgotten.
I am slowly getting used to my Earth name, but this world is so very... Strange. Alien. Unreal. Here, I am just another face in the crowd. Just another woman among many. Just one. But thats good, when I stop to think about it. The freedom, the serenity this anonymity gives me is... So very strange. I yearn for the life I had, for the dynamics I was used to, yet at the same time I fear it. It is a way of life that I was so very used to, but it is also a way of life that was slowly sapping away my mind and body. No, in this strange new world, I am just one its people, here to escape the horrors war, and here to explore its strangeness.
And its a good strangeness, indeed. This world, this Earth, is full of wonder, full of beauty... Full of mystery. There are so many things I want to see, so many things I want to experience that at times it overwhelms my senses. I am not used to this freedom, to this marvel. I am not used to this come. To live in a world that you dont need to fear and dont need to combat, but that you can simply explore and take in, that is something I could never have even imagined.
But these feelings... They confuse me more than anything else. Happiness, calm, excitement... Until recently, I was not even aware they existed. That I could feel something so... Indescribable. I have been awash in unfamiliar emotions ever since I set foot on this world. I... I cried when I first came here. It surprised me so much. I didnt know what was happening to me. I didnt know I could do that. It felt like it should hurt but... It didnt. This sweet pain in my heart is what tore me away from my home, and what makes every waking moment here more precious than life itself.
This world is so wonderful... And so very different from my home.
I am Grimwall, Empress of the Undying Flame and mistress of the realm of Orr, Overlord of the Elders and queen of all things. My kingdom is, or rather was, the entire world of Orr. It was a harsh and savage place, one of hatred and violence, war and conquest. That is all we knew, my kind and I. That is what we had been created for. That is what we were. Monsters. Demons. Slave masters. The Overlords of the Elders, sent down from heaven to rule their realms in their stead, and to lead their wars to victory. We were their Avatars, their hands in the land. Nothing more. Nothing less.
There were six Overlords originally created: Duriel, Tezeroth, Kirien, Shakti, Qualkeck and myself Grimwall. Three lords and three ladies, one Overlord for each of the elders. We six were their final creations on Orr, and by all appearances their very masterpiece. None of us knew who the Elders were or where they had come from, but legend had it they arrived on our world millions of years ago. Why theyd come no-one could even guess at, but it was said they changed the world more to their liking. It was they who turned the seas to fire, the clouds to smoke and the mountains to glass. It was, one could say, their vision of the perfect world. Once that was done, they populated the world with their creations, creatures as misshapen as they were insane, and possessed the Elders dark and frightening magic. But as time went on and the world became more complex, the task of managing it became increasingly more demanding, and the eternal war of the Elders ever more difficult to fight. So, they created us.
When the Elders quarrelled, the Overlords clashed. When the Overlords clashed, the tribes went to war. As the tribes went to war, the villages went to battle, and so on and so forth. An entire world enslaved to the whims of a handful of creatures, suffering strife and disaster at the very flick of their finger. What battles the Elders fought among themselves, I cannot say, but I do know that the wars and campaigns I led against my brothers saw countless dead and indescribable destruction. But in the eyes of the Elders, we, and all we commanded, were merely tools, to be struck hard against each other to get the job done. Tools that didnt have feelings. Tools that didnt bleed. We, the six of us, had been created with feelings and consciousness, but these we were supposed to ignore. We were living, thinking beings, treated like soulless slaves, commanded without question and without remorse.
But we did bleed. And we did feel. And we did think. We overlords were first created as one, born from the same seed, but divided to serve. We shared a bond that went beyond simple consciousness. We were one, though we were scattered across the world. And yet we were ordered to fight each other, to lie, cheat and harm. It has been so very long now, that I dont remember if it ever hurt to do these things. All I know is that we were told to do this, and we could not disobey. Whatever emotions we may have had for each other, they were all trampled over centuries of neglect. We, the Overlords, the worlds most powerful creatures, were little more than ragdolls in the hands of our masters, soulless, mindless and alone.
But all of that changed when the altars went silent. Overnight, the voices of the Elders disappeared, and we could no longer feel their presence. What happened that night, I do not know and, by my soul, I do not care. But it was an event that changed the world.
At first we thought they had retreated, so we kept busy managing our keeps. It had happened many times before. The Elders would engage in a confrontation so involving that they would need all their concentration, but they always returned soon enough. This time, they didnt. We grew surprised, but not yet concerned. The Elders had disappeared for a long time once before, returning to order the biggest war Orr had ever seen, so we set about building armies and erecting fortification in preparation for the coming war... But it never came. They never came back.
We wondered, we feared, we panicked, we despaired... But we did nothing. Like lost children, we hid inside our citadels, praying in our minds for our Masters to return and once again give us guidance. We prayed to their altars, listened to their voice. But the Elders were silent. Months turned into years, and years into centuries. Still our Masters were gone, and still we cowered. We were unable to comprehend our situation, for the unthinkable had happened. Those who had controlled us like puppets, those on whom we depended to look after us... Were gone. We knew this to be true, but we feared that prospect. And in fear, we refused to accept it. We were all created with a mind and a will, but we were all trained to never use them. And so we hoped. And so we prayed.
But we woke up. Duriel was the first who accepted the obvious, and took the necessary step. He left his citadel and return to his realm. Centuries without a leader had left his lands in chaos and disarray, but he realised he knew how to undo this. He found a purpose, and that purpose gave him the will to act. We all felt it, too, and in time we, too, left our hiding places and returned to the land. We started with a purpose. To recover. But soon another purpose developed in our minds. Curiosity. What lay beyond our realms? What mysteries had the Elders created where our eyes couldnt see? What lay beyond the horizon? Like children just learning to walk, we wondered. And once we could walk, we walked towards what lay out of reach.
Once forced to be bitter enemies, my sisters Shakti and Qualkeck joined forces and left the home grounds. They headed for the mountains of glass until the pillar of flame disappeared from the horizon. And what they found there changed our world. Ancient cities spanning as far as the eye could see lay destroyed, as if struck by an outworldly cataclysm. Magical artefacts of enormous power. Books, oh what knowledge they contained. And bodies, at the same time familiar and frightening. These people who lived there, they were... Like us. Preserved absolutely perfectly, there was no doubt that they were the same. An entire culture of Overlords. Our minds could not comprehend the paradox. How could this be?
But the stories carved within the very walls of these cities opened our eyes. We, who called ourselves Overlords, were the descendents of a great race, the masters of this world, once so very long ago. They had been here when the Elders first came to the world, and it was them that the Elders had taken it from. Such wars, the murals depicted... Such power, such scale, and such devastation. We, who had been bread and trained for combat, were chilled to the bone. An entire race wiped out of existence, its world desecrated and legacy enslaved. We were appalled. Appalled at the Elders for lying to us, but at someone new, as well. Appalled at each other for being so weak that we had played along.
Almost in an instant, our shared mind fractured. Anger, hatred, pain, all the emotions the Elders had passed onto us now set roots in our hearts. We had always harboured a bond, us brothers and sisters, that we had acted against only instinctively as ordered. But now, we chose to act against it. We disagreed. Strongly. Our unity... Was no more.
Duriel felt that history was better forgotten, and insisted we make the best of our world. Tezeroth embarked on a quest to find where the Elders had gone to and exact revenge for their crimes, whereas Kirien insisted we find a way to return in service to the Elders and finish the job. Shakti and Qualkeck journeyed into the Desert of Embers to look for more signs of our old civilization. And me... I wanted justice. Not revenge, not punishment, not even responsibility. No, I saw this great and powerful race, my race... And I was filled with anger. Such promise, such potential... Such power. And all for naught. A great injustice had been done to these people when they were robbed of their world. Only a great justice could undo this, when their civilization was raised from the ashes once more to rule over the world like it always should have.
Alas, my brothers and sisters did not share my vision. At first we all went our separate ways, bitter for a reason we could not comprehend. But then conflicts began to emerge. At first it was simply that we needed each others help, but none would give it. Wed never worked together as Overlords, always tasked to fight each other, but still we always shared the comforting mental presence of another sympathetic being. That comfort was gone. We were alone now, and so much more so than before. This loneliness tortured and weakened us. We sought comfort in each other, only to be rejected. It wasnt long before we tried to force that comfort. Then the disputes started. Tezeroth sought to destroy the Elders altars, while Kirien sought to rebuild them. Duriel sought to bury the old cities, while I sought to rebuild them. We bargained, we argued, we threatened... And then we fought.
We fought each other once more, but these wars were different. Before, we fought like we played a game, keeping to the Elders rules while trying to keep things fair for all of us. We cared nothing for who wins or loses, as we were merely pawns in somebody elses game. But this was different. Here we fought with drive and conviction. We fought to win. And it wasnt long before that tenacity corrupted our hearts. We showed no mercy, respected no rule and honoured no bond. The once proud rulers of the tribes had descended in an almost feral, savage conflict. Little by little, my brothers and sisters forgot why they were fighting, forgot their missions. They surrendered their minds to the burning hatred in their hearts and towering rage in their minds. All thoughts of a more noble cause were forgotten, replaced only by the single notion that nothing could be done until all others were destroyed.
We fought for longer than I can remember, and we hurt each other greatly, until there was nothing but violence left between us. And I emerged victorious. It would be so easy to claim that I was better, that I had thought of a clever strategy or wielded great power. But the truth of the matter is that I was simply the worst of them. A lowly creature so vile that it betrayed those closest to her. Even in their madness, my brothers and sisters still retained some honour. I... Retained none. I defeated their armies, slaughtered them like wild animals and consumed their power for my own. I was determined to rebuild the empire of my ancestors, no matter the cost.
The eradication of my own kind, however, did not provide final victory. The tribes still resisted and my own people rebelled. But subduing them was merely a matter of time. All who stood before my mission would either bow, or die. It didnt matter how many would have to suffer in the process, for the unification of Orr under a single banner justified any means necessary. So it had once been, and may the darkness claim my soul, so it would again.
It pains me now to remember the evil that once lived in my heart. I want to call it madness, I want to call it confusion... I want to deny it, but I cannot. It was none of these things. I had no excuse. No-one made me do the things I did. I wanted them, knowingly and willingly. But he... He saved me. Saved me from myself. I hunted him, I pursued him, I wanted him dead. I wanted to hate him, but... I couldnt. And he, for all I did to him, could not hate me. He should have wanted to see me burn in hell, but instead he saved me from hell. Saved me, Grimwall, traitor, defiler, monster... No. Saved me, Sarah. This name... This person... Its not me. Its someone else. Its a better person. The person I was... I dont want to be. Its better to be someone else. To forget. To abandon the evil, the madness, the... Pain. I dont want to be who I am. Its better to be someone else.
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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Whoa, that was pretty gripping. Also eerily familiar. Nice. 
Oh, and...
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I apologise for the length, but this is who I am and how I do things. I can't say things in a few words, not even when I'm speaking with people (be afraid, be very afraid), so the length is what it is. It's just one chapter, though it probably should have been at least two. It's a prologue, though, so it didn't feel right to break it down.
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Do not. Quality > quantity yes, but sometimes the latter is demanded by the former. Put into words what your mind's eye sees, and forget about 'size concerns'. When reading a well-written piece such as this, words become so much more than letters on a background, so don't ever let me hear you apologizing for the count of them again, savvy? 
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
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Whoa, that was pretty gripping. Also eerily familiar. Nice.
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Thank you kindly
It's possible that it's very similar to something else I've done (though I'm not sure it's something I posted here). It's a theme I seem to like a lot, but this particular theme is not the point (for a change ). I have a good deal of plans for this, but it just... Takes so bloody much out of me to write it. It seems focus and concentration are the critical resources for an endeavour such as this.
And, yeah, I'll see about not apologising for the length. I guess it generally excessively difficult for me to get people to even read these stories it's become a natural reflex
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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[ QUOTE ]
I have a good deal of plans for this, but it just... Takes so bloody much out of me to write it. It seems focus and concentration are the critical resources for an endeavour such as this.
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Uh, yeah. What'd ya think it took? Flowers and fairy dust? 
That's why a good work is called a good work. It does take work. Sometimes a bloody great amount.
And nah, was referring to something a friend of mine wrote recently. No worries though - after all, at least as far as I've seen, it's true what they say: great minds think alike.
"If I had Force powers, vacuum or not my cape/clothes/hair would always be blowing in the Dramatic Wind." - Tenzhi
Characters
I thought you said this thing was going to be long? You put it all in just one post...
Since this is a prologue, it's a bit early to judge. After reading this, I'm imagining a character that's Elric reincarnated. Being a God, or as good as, and then taking a step down to be an ordinary person is quite a leap. You'll have a challenge ahead of you to show how and why "Sarah" came to be, and make it a believable transition.
I'll look forward to seeing how things progress.
Very good stuff, I await more.
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And, yeah, I'll see about not apologising for the length. I guess it generally excessively difficult for me to get people to even read these stories it's become a natural reflex
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The Roleplaying Forums tend to be pretty good about reading whatever anyone puts up. With something as well-written as this, one might even say that the longer you can make it, the better.
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Since this is a prologue, it's a bit early to judge. After reading this, I'm imagining a character that's Elric reincarnated. Being a God, or as good as, and then taking a step down to be an ordinary person is quite a leap. You'll have a challenge ahead of you to show how and why "Sarah" came to be, and make it a believable transition.
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That is my ultimate goal. I have always held a firm belief that a character, no matter who or what it ends up being, has to be believable on at least the most basic level. Anything else is a failure in my eyes, and the kind of failure I beat myself up over whenever I commit it.
But this one should work, if only because I draw my inspiration from very real emotions and experiences, though far removed from such a fantastic story as they may be. Now it's just a question of conveying it
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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[ QUOTE ]
The Roleplaying Forums tend to be pretty good about reading whatever anyone puts up. With something as well-written as this, one might even say that the longer you can make it, the better.
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So it would seem I generally feel at least somewhat... Reserved at showing my work in a place where people come to share, if only because I can never hope to match the effort or skill of people who usually come to these places. But it is so very hard to make my friends read these things because I run on and on so much and, to be honest, I just like sharing with people, good or bad
And speaking of length, prologue 1 was 4 Word pages. Prologue 2 ended up at 7. I'm still not sure how that happened
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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Blue Heart: Prologue
How long has it been now? Ten years? Wow... It feels like it was yesterday that I had a normal life with normal problems. Well, as normal as it gets for someone like me, but still, more normal than this. I guess when youre this busy, youre just never really aware of time. Time flies when youre having fun, you know? But ten years? My god! To think of all the things that have happened to me, of all the ways I have changed. Its really something else. Before all this began, I was just an arrogant, abrasive brat with a competitive personality and... Err... Come to think of it, I guess I havent changed all that much. After all, why mess with perfection, right?
But there is something that has changed in me. See, Im a hero, I have super powers, I save the day, yata yata. I gave myself a super hero name Captain Indivisible. Heh, I thought I was so clever back then. For years I protected the people of this city, and all the time I thought I was so cool for doing that. You know saving lives, putting out fires, beating up bad guys all the day. I was in hog heaven. I mean, its what a super hero does, right? Well, maybe, but though I may have been super, I was never truly a hero. Yeah, I did good, but for altogether the wrong reasons.
Ever since I was a little kid, like, since I was 6 or something like that, Ive been reading comic books and watching Saturday morning cartoons. I knew perfectly well what a super hero was supposed to do, but I never stopped to think about why. Why do these people put their lives in danger, why do they fight crime? The thought never crossed my mind. To my eyes, having super powers were synonymous with being a hero, as long as youre not robbing banks or taking over the world, I guess. Obviously those who had powers should use them for the good of mankind. Its what they did. To stop all wars, to cure all disease, to save everybody. Its funny to think about it now, because I could have been Miss America just as easily as I was a super hero with that mantra.
So I played around as the big hero, but everything I did, I did for myself. I saved people just to hear them thank me, I stopped crimes to see my picture in the papers, I even rescued kittens from trees just because that made me feel better about myself. You know, someone once said that its not how many lives you save that makes you a hero, but rather why you save them that counts. Simply saving a thousand people does not make one a true hero. Just a single person, saved for the right reason, is enough. It took me seven years of blundering around like an arrogant fool, but I found my one person. And in saving her, I saved myself. No, thats not true. I didnt save myself. She saved me.
I know now what it means to be a true hero. I want to think Ive become one, but Im not sure Im worthy. She, however, believes so in her heart, and that alone drives me to try ever harder.
But all that stuffs now. It wasnt always like this. Ten years ago, things were very different. Once upon a time, I used to be just a regular kid, with a regular name. Tom Sullivan, Tommy to my friends... Well, I would have been Tommy to my friends, if I actually, you know, had any. See, I was a very... Unpleasant kid. OK, I was a right brat, lets not mince words here. I was a self-professed computer nerd. Still am, in fact, but these days I can shoot lightning bolts from my hands, so people tend to over look that. Anyway, I loved computers, and I loved video games. I probably spent my entire free time playing games and surfing the net, or what little of it there was at the time. I was always a smart kind, and youd think that would be a benefit in life, but it so turns out its more of a curse. Especially when you add smart to arrogant. I was always a know-it-all, lecturing my class mates and correcting them. And what really pissed them off was that I was almost always actually right. Of course, I lived in my ivory tower of righteousness, belittling those that dared argue with me and browbeating them with my superior knowledge. I was a smart kid, and proud of it.
I was a smart kid, and everyone hated me for it. Of course, back then I was too dumb to realise it, or to listen to my parents who, in retrospect, actually knew what they were talking about. Imagine that. But yeah, I irritated everybody, so I never got invited to my classmates parties and no-one wanted to hang out with me. Who cares, I thought, as I didnt really care much for parties and hanging out, anyway. Why bother? People never want to do what I want to do or talk about the things I cared about. All I ever did when I did, occasionally, get invited was to follow my hosts around like a puppy and kowtow to their likes. Eh! I know its silly to alienate your potential friends for something like this, but it bothers me even today how people cant see past their own noses. Its like Im only there to provide company for them, and swell the size of their party!
Ahem!
Well, my lonely life changed rather dramatically pretty much overnight. See, I wasnt just a fan of video games. I was a master at them. I was aggressive, competitive and driven, seeking victory and progress at any cost. Thinking back on it now, I probably spoiled my own fun that way, but at the time, victory is all I ever wanted. I could pretty much whoop anyone at school at any video game they played. I even entered a few organised events, and though I didnt leave with any big prizes, I scored in the top ten of every single event. I was at the same time every game developers biggest fan and biggest pain. Obviously, they made wonderful games, but I could make them better.
That, apparently, caught the attention of some pretty... Lets face it, pretty weird people. One morning I woke up to find an e-mail in my inbox, inviting me to the Beta Test of some unknown game from some company Id never heard about. The Intuitive, being developed by Future Game Design, a company founded pretty much the previous night. They promised awesome graphics, cutting-edge design and a truly revolutionary control system. They offered me a spot on a super exclusive Beta testing team, perks and extras when the game finally launched and, above all, money! I get to play a game and get paid for it? How could I refuse, even if I thought these guys were a joke.
But I saw just how serious Future Game Design were when I was led into the testing room. It was a huge open space with a massive machine in the centre that made all these beeps and was covered in small, flashing bulbs in many colours. Consoles jotted out from it, and attached to them were these weird head sets. I mean, thats the kind of stuff youd see in Star Trek, not real life. In real life, you played games on a keyboard, looking at a small screen. But this was something else.
As it was explained to me, The Intuitive wasnt so much a game, as a virtual reality, where the actions of our on-screen characters were controlled not with keys or levers, but directly by our brains. It was supposed to give players a completely new, and much more intuitive experience. Boy, if they had had any idea how right they were...
I was then introduced to the rest of the Beta team, hand-picked for their abilities and personalities. There were five of us Johnny Crinshaw, a right jerk, Teddy Spenser, who was the nice kid, Billy whose last name I never remembered, the guy who got freaked out and left on the first day and Cindy Terrance, the girl. I have to say, I was quite amazed that they were able to find a girl that liked video games. At the time, I was convinced such a creature didnt exist. She actually creeped me out at first. If only I hadnt been such a child, I might have... No, I shouldnt think about that.
So we sat down, the four of us that remained, and started working to get to grips with the game. And almost instantly we hit a major problem. Yes, Future Game Designs headsets were quite adept at reading our brainwaves, but the software that they had to interpret them into actual actions... Well, plain sucked. Id think walk, and my character would erupt in epileptic seizures, for instance. The Intuitive was supposed to be... Well, intuitive, but it was reading our commands completely wrong. It was like we were reduced to little babies, still learning to walk and move our hands. Except, we werent babies anymore, and that kind of learning... Just wasnt happening.
We wrestled with it for a full year, and all we had to show for it was being able to walk, if just barely. Future Game Design had already poured untold millions into their game, blown their deadline and still had a product unfit for retail. Things were looking grim, until I noticed something... Weird. See, while the others would put in their hours and go home, I played for keeps. I came in early, stayed in late and generally pretty much lived inside that game. At some point, I realised that what we could do with the virtual world wasnt just limited to moving the bodies of our characters on-screen. In fact, it looked like we werent limited... Pretty much at all. Send the right brainwave through the headset, and The Intuitive would let you just about anything. Once I figured that out, I started developing some amazing abilities. My character learned to fly, shoot lightning bolts, developed superhuman strength... I became a super hero inside a game that was, at this stage, supposed to only mimic human motion.
Needless to say, the guys at Future Game Designs heads exploded at that prospect, and they ran off... Run some tests, I guess. They never told us anything. But down in the game room, Id become a big thing. Teddy congratulated me, Johnny snarled at me, and Cindy just sort of kept to herself. She wasnt a very outgoing girl, which put her at sort of a disadvantage in a group with three loud boys. I started showing off, and Teddy just followed me around like my own personal groupie, oohing and aahin at everything I did. But what I hadnt noticed was that Johnny wasnt just his usual state of grumpy. On the outside he snarled, but on the inside he was burning with jealously and rage. He was determined to beat me, and he strong-armed Cindy into helping him.
I never gave it a thought when Johnny and Cindy spent pretty much their entire time playing the game together. I mean, I had virtual super powers. What did I care about anyone else. I was such a fool then. I should have seen it, I should have seen the disaster coming, but I simply didnt care. Not until the morning when I walked into the game room to find Cindy sort of slumped on her chair. At first I thought she was asleep, so I ignored her, but something tugged on me, so I went over. She wasnt asleep. She was dead. Her brain simply shut down, they said. I... Had never seen a dead person before, so I didnt know how to react. Youd think Id have recoiled in horror, that I would have been horrified, that Id puke, something! But instead, I just sat there, staring at her face. This... This person whom Id shared a room with for over a year... She was no longer a person, but just... A thing. An inanimate object nestled in an inanimate chair. I didnt feel anything. I just didnt know what to feel. This... This emptiness is something that still haunts me to this day, and it terrifies me in a way I just cannot describe. I saw a friend of mine dead, and I didnt even cry. I just sat and looked.
Cindy was dead and Jonny hadnt come home. Teddy was too spooked to return, and the company was facing a disaster. I was so... Out of it at the time, that if theyd let me Id have kept going on my own, but Future Game Design lost their funding and came under a criminal investigation, so they had to shut down the project permanently. I returned to my regular life, but... I was a different person. Id lost my desire to interact with other people, I no longer laughed, I no longer went out. All I wanted to do was to lock myself in my room and play those damn games. To feel super again, even for just a second. What point was there to life without super powers? How could I stand to listen to people babble about what they ate today or which teacher was nasty? Those things were meaningless abstracts at this point. And I... Simply tuned them out.
I didnt feel like doing anything. I didnt feel like living. All I wanted to do was to just lie down and lose myself in my amazing fantasies, spirited away to a world where I could be... Super.
Until the day my fantasies turned real. Lost in thought one morning, my body simply floated up off my chair. When I realised what was happening, I panicked, and plummeted back down on my butt. You know those stories where a kid discovers super powers and then hides them from his parents, to be a super hero when no-ones looking? Mine wasnt like that. I flew a good 10 feet straight up in the middle of the bloody school cafeteria right as lunch was being served. If anyone went to that school, they saw me. My virtual super powers had suddenly become very real. I thought the game had done something to me, but professor Grey, our philosophy teacher, still assures me that it was my mind that was now unlocked to the possibility of doing the impossible, tapping into the vast potential that all humans have. Id like to believe him, but the next year he joined the Chosens House of Enlightenment sect, so I dont know what to think. And frankly, I still dont. I have no idea what caused my powers to manifest, and at this point I dont even care. Ive gone through more tampering and analysis than a destruction derby car, and no-one knows what makes my powers work. They just do, and thats all that really matters in the end.
But lets not underplay the most important point. I developed super powers quite literally out of thin air. I was a super hero. My life now had a purpose. I was beside myself with happiness, but my parents were not. While I may have given up on having a normal life long ago, they still held out hope of me eventually having one. They disliked the life I led, the dangers I put myself against and the overall devil may care attitude I had adopted. So I took the simplest solution available at the time I moved out. As a licensed hero, the city paid my expense, and all I was required to do in return was do what I liked be a super hero. A better life no-one could hope for. What did friends and family mattered? All they wanted for me was to be one of them, an ordinary nobody with a 9-5 job, a wife and a house in the suburbs. The very antithesis of the life I wanted at the time.
I had become a super hero, just like I had always wanted. Captain Indivisible. But I did good for the wrong reasons. All I wanted out of life was to feel super, to be recognised, to be adored. If saving people is what it took, then I would save people. If beating up people was what it took, then I would do that, too. I had thousands of fans, I was in the news every day. I even had my own TV show. Surely this was the life Id always wanted.
I had everything I thought I wanted. I thought I should be happy. But I wasnt. I was growing more unhappy with every passing day, and I could not understand why. I lived alone in my lavish apartment, haunted my memories of my family. I saved people, but I didnt care about them. Its just something I had to do. I had fans, but it didnt matter, because they were always so distant, so... Foreign. My life had become empty, but for the good I did. And even the good I did, I dismissed. I simply didnt care about it. Being a super hero had become my self-feeding obsession, but the glamour of it was gone.
Then he returned. Doctor Division, aka Johnny Crinshaw, my old partner in testing The Intuitive. He hadnt died as police believed, but rather he had hidden away, consumed by the insanity that now plagued his mind. Insanity that his jealousy of me had created. He too had developed super powers uncannily similar to mine, but unlike me, he did use them to rob banks and take over the world.
Johnny was my wake-up call, and not only because he was an adversary worthy of my power. No, he woke me up because when I looked into his eyes, I didnt see an enemy. I saw myself. Though he was quite really insane and possessed by a burning hatred for me, his drive and motivation felt so familiar. It should have scared me or at least appalled me, but I found myself instead confounded. Why? Why was he so much like me? How can someone so evil be like me, someone so good? But all I had to do was question my own goodness to find an answer. I wasnt good at all. I was merely selfish. Where Johnny was driven by the lust for revenge, I was driven by the lust for recognition. We were the same, just powerful monsters chasing our own agendas. Forces of nature, if you will. I was just more beneficial to the city. That, and only that, had made me a super hero in the publics eyes. But in my heart, I was nothing more than a monster.
But as Johnny weaved his campaign of destruction against me, my mind was elsewhere. I was haunted by thoughts of all I had abandoned to become a hero. My family, my life, my friends, however few of them there were. To thoughts of Cindy, a girl who had lost his life to the same madness I started.
Cindy... The girl who didnt fit into this world. She lived in her life cold and lonely, always reaching out to people, always hoping for at least a glimmer of sympathy. And we all let her down. I always wonder what would have happened if Id been there for her. If I talked to her, opened up to her, been her friend. I simply ignored her, because she never came to talk to me. Instead, she went to Jonny when he needed her. She wanted a friend, and he needed a partner. But in the end, her loneliness cost her her life. Im always haunted by the thought that I could have prevented this, if only Id so much as looked at her. I saved people every day, but I never once looked at them as persons. To me, they were numbers, sandbags I had to carry from one place to another. But I never even thought of just... Being there for them. I saved many, but how many did I hurt? How many did I neglect? It didnt seem to matter at the time.
At the end of the day, one thing mattered defeating Doctor Division. He had been terrorizing the city for months, and no one had the power or, to my surprise, the time to deal with him. Bigger evil was afoot, and bigger heroes were busy dealing with it. That... Bothered me. I couldnt understand why it did after all, they were doing what heroes were supposed to do. But it still bothered me on a very profound level. I guess part of it was that this villain that ran amok unchallenged had come about as a direct result of what I had done. Johnnys evil was my fault, and dealing with him was my responsibility. I alone had to face him, and bring him down. As it turns out, thats exactly what he counted on.
I faced Doctor Division in what I thought would be our final battle. I was confident in my power and I thought victory was assured. But surprise of surprises, Division had set a trap. Oops! See, his powers were the same as mine, but weaker, so I knew he could never defeat me in direct battle. Obviously, if I challenged him to a direct battle, Id win. Well, it turned out that he had more than just power. In the years since Id last seen him, he had developed a massive assortment of quite frankly futuristic technology to augment his powers. Not only did that make him stronger, it made his ability to lay traps that much better. And a trap is exactly what I walk right into.
A lightning bolt knocked me through a wall and into the small opening on the side of what looked like a perfect sphere. Before I knew what was happening, I was sealed inside and a countdown was ticking. It gave Doctor Division just enough time to explain his plan to me, before his contraption launched me into space.
Apparently, Johnny knew he couldnt kill me or imprison me, so he decided to do the next best thing launch me into space. Hed trapped me inside an insidiously sturdy metal sphere which, thanks to a magnetic drive of some sort, could not just launch into space, but actually travel at incredible speed. Faster than light, he claimed, and given how far I went, I have to believe him.
So I floated through space, wallowing in self pity and recalling my humiliating defeat. I thought my life was over. Oh, sure, I couldnt actually die just from my super powers keeping me alive, but I had lost everything. But in reality, what did I really lose that day? What did I have to lose? Fame? It was overrated. Fans? Maybe if they had faces. Life as a super hero? Heh. I have to be honest life trapped within the cold, dark, crammed capsule floating through space without a sound wasnt that much different from the life Id had back on Earth. True, I didnt see as much action, but that empty loneliness that had weighed so heavily on my heart was still there, just as strong and just as painful. Id never understood it before, but I was beginning to see now. All of those things I did, all of those people I met, all of those celebrities, contracts, TV shows... None of them meant anything to me.
Trapped within a space the size of a small closet, one image kept popping up in the darkness. The image of an ordinary family breakfast with my parents. Dad would always get up late for work and eat his breakfast standing up, while mom would always chastise him for staying up so late. Theyd kiss, dad would pat me on the head and run out the door. Then mom and I would sit down to have the rest of his meal. It wasnt my powers, my fans or my adventures I missed. No, it was my family, and the bond I had with them that I wanted back the most. The bond I had shattered so carelessly.
As I floated through space, cold and alone, I had time to think of so very many things.
Quote:
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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Red Heart: An alien wonder
The deed was done. Though battles still raged across the land, the war, too, was over. I had won. I had eradicated my entire kind, their voices silenced and their presence gone. I alone remained, the last of the Overlords and Empress of the realm of Orr. This is what I thought I wanted. This is what I sacrificed everything to achieve. And yet, it did not feel like a victory. Its not that it felt bad, or that I regretted what Id done. At the time, regret wasnt even something I knew I could feel. No, I was satisfied with my victory, for it had been complete and absolute. I would have thought Id feel... Satisfied. But I didnt. What I felt, I couldnt put into words, couldnt understand. I didnt know what this feeling was, merely what it was not.
We, the Overlords, had been created to be nothing more than tools of our masters. Unthinking, unfeeling slaves acting commands out with intelligence, but without involvement. What feelings and souls we had, wed long since forgotten, losing ourselves in the wars we were forced to fight, getting used to the violence and death that came with them. Anger, hatred, rage and fury was all we knew, for it was all the Elders had passed down on us. And even once we became free, that is all we held in our hearts. That is all we knew, these strange emotions that were really not our own. We never hated, we never angered. We merely did. It is what we were. But we acted in anger and reacted with hate. Not our anger and hate, of course, but anger and hate just the same. We got so accustomed to it that we thought it natural to act this way. And when we were free at last, all we could thing to do was to anger and hate. Hate the world, hate the Elders... Hate each other. It is this hatred that brought about our own destruction. And it was I, the one who had accepted the Elders orders the most readily and questioned the least, that was fully able to lose myself in this pervasive madness. It was my hands that bore the blood of the only creatures I held dear, even if I never realised what they meant to me.
The overlords were dead, and I was left alone. In this vast world, filled with creatures most vile and secrets most ancient, I found myself so very alone. We, the final six, had always shared an indelible bond. We shared our thoughts, shared our dreams... Shared our hearts. Even when we broke this bond and our thoughts grew silent, we could still feel each others presence. Scattered across the world though we may have been, each of us knew in their heart that, somewhere in the distance, there were others. Friend or foe, this warmth of another common being was always there. But now, all that was left was cold. I could no longer hear their voices, I could no longer feel their presence. I realised that, for the first time in my life, I was truly alone.
This, my greatest victory, should have been the pinnacle of my existence, but the familiar satisfaction of the spoils of war never came. Instead, a strange, heavy feeling weighed down on my heart. A feeling I could not understand or explain. I had simply never felt anything even remotely like it before. I should have been exhilarated, but instead, I was... Scared. Fear Id known before. The fear of failure, the fear of the Masters wrath, fear of death. But this fear was unlike anything Id ever experience. Not a panic at the prospect of imminent danger, but a deep, crushing sadness at the loss of all hope. And I didnt know why I was feeling it.
In time I may have found my answers on my own, it was not to be. No more than a week had passed since my ultimate victory that my scouts delivered baffling reports. A mysterious object had fallen from the sky and crashed somewhere in the desert of ash. It wasnt thrown, launched or teleported there, it had seemingly just... Appeared out of the very sky, itself. A patrol of Battle Carvens had gone to investigate, but only a single survivor returned, spinning tales of a mythical monster. His men had gone to investigate the mysterious object, when they were beset by an unworldly monster, more powerful than they had ever seen, and more ruthless than the Elders, themselves. It set the soldiers on fire with burning malice and retreated into the ash.
Unsure of what to make of this story, I led an army towards the object myself. What we found, however, was no monster. Just a giant, seamless metal sphere, twelve hands across and charred all over. Its weight was surprisingly little for an object this big, and its shell was both hard and dense, impenetrable to even my own power. I knew it was hollow, but what lay inside it, I couldnt know. As it turns out, it wasnt what lay inside it, but rather what didnt lie inside, that was of utmost importance.
For lack of recourse, I dismissed the scouts story as a fantasy and brought the object back to my citadel, intending to study it further in time. I must admit, this alien sphere had woken up in me something that I had previously not been used to curiosity. I wanted to know more about this object. Where had it come from? Why was it here? What was inside it? Exploring it occupied my entire attention, such that my plans of a world-wide empire began to take on a secondary importance. Oh, if only Id known the events I set in motion when I took this object, if only Id been aware of its significance...
Not a day had passed, when I started hearing reports of strange occurrences. Familiar reports of an eldritch monster that terrorized the outposts in the desert of ash. And though the details varied, and the monster fluctuated between a tiny creature and a towering giant, one thing always remained the same this monster was targeting my military installations and ignoring the tribes and their villages. It was attacking me, directly, and challenging my authority. It was challenging me.
What little emotion I had begun to feel was immediately swept up in a wave of rage at the audacity of this creature. I had found myself another war to fight, and another enemy to vanquish. I had found myself purpose, such as that which I had been made for. Violence and hatred, war and conquest. That is who I was, and that is all I knew. But there was something new, as well. This alien creature, it... It was so very strange. So unlike the misshapen monsters that populated the land, always preoccupied with survival and service. It... Thought. It acted, determined and strong. It showed initiative, it displayed planning. It had intelligence of a kind that our world simply didnt have any of any more. No mere servant, slave to anothers will, but a creature free, brave and powerful.
The more I thought about it, the more I began to felt that I was no longer alone. This creature, this monster, it was... Like me. And just like that, my world was ever so slightly less lonely. Ally or enemy, someone existed out there that was like me. And though I couldnt read its thoughts or feel its presence, I could feel the warmth of another being. And it felt... Good. Strange. Confusing. This was my enemy, challenging my rule and attacking my positions. It had to be destroyed, and quickly, but... I had already killed everyone once. Lost everyone once. And though I was sure I was right to do so, the prospect of doing it again felt... Unpleasant.
But I was the Empress of Orr, Overlord of the Elders. What I felt did not matter, for I knew to act without feeling. Without emotion. Without mercy. I knew to act to fulfil my purpose. Its strange now, how unreal this memory feels. I had free will, I had a mind of my own, yet still I looked for orders. Still I looked for a purpose to devote my existence to. Still looked to others to make all the decisions. I had free will, but I did not know what to do with it. I had always existed to entrust myself to my purpose, regardless of how I felt about it, and fulfil it without objection, without question, without a doubt.
And so I did. This creature had set foot in my realm and attacked my authority. The proper reaction was to hate it, and kill it. Ordering it killed came easy. Search parties were formed and sent out in the land to look for this creature, ordered to kill it on sight. Hating it... Came out surprisingly difficult. I knew I should, I knew I had to, but... The fascination in my mind and the loneliness in my heart were just too powerful.
But the creature helped me. It defied my efforts to find it, killed many of my soldiers and, apparently, had begun corrupting my people. At first I thought it hid in the wilderness, hiding among the smoke to avoid my minions. But it soon became clear that it was not in the wilderness, but in the very villages we guarded from it that this creature dwelled in. The villagers hid it, conspired with it, sympathised with it. And they turned on me, as a result. This monster was feeding my subject poisonous ideas of rebellion, of freedom, of a better life. The lowly scum didnt know the meaning of these world, but they fell for this monsters vile tongue.
I resigned myself to a single obsession of hatred, but... The old madness Id become so accustomed to didnt come. The drive, the conviction, the desire I had once felt simply never returned. I knew what I should feel, but... I just didnt feel it. For the first time in so, so many years, my heart was finally starting to wake up to the feelings it harboured. And I was torn. Torn between the hatred I thought I should feel, and the sadness so deeply rooted in my chest. I hated this creature for what it had done, and for what it was doing, yet I admired it for what it was and for the heart it displayed.
It and I, the only two survivors in a hostile world. The only two still capable of passionate thought. The only two... Truly alive. I wanted to hate this monster, I wanted have the desire to kill it. But I couldnt. Because it was like me. It had a purpose, and the will to see it through. And even though this purpose was to destroy me, I found... Comfort, in simply feeling the presence of another heart in my world. I found our battle strangely... Pleasant. Calming. Serene. I knew that as long as we both drew breath, my world still had life in it. That as long as it lived, I wouldnt be alone. Without realising it, I found myself wishing I didnt succeed. For the first time since my memories began, I found... Desire. The desire to keep something that had become strangely precious to me.
But it was not to be. Lost in my indecision and the vagaries of my heart, my power wavered, my troops weakened and my empire finally cracked. The rebellion this creature had been pushing down onto the monsters of the land finally erupted into open warfare, and I was caught unprepared. My lack of judgement and lack of tenacity now risked to rob me of my very seat of power. Rebellion erupted in so many places at once that I had not the forces to respond in kind. My realm was on fire, and in more ways than one, but it was my citadel that saw by far the biggest onslaught of the entire battle. A veritable army of rebels stormed my keep and overwhelmed my defences. Led by this terrible monster, they pushed onward and upward, until I alone stood before them in person.
I knew full well that the fools had underestimated the full power of an Overlord quite completely, and felt well confident that I could defend myself and my empire, even if I had to do it with my own two hands. But... It didnt come to that.
No, the final battle Id expected with this mythical monster just... Didnt happen. When the rebels broke into my throne room, what led their charge was no ugly, horrible monster. No, it was a mere man, so similar to my own kind as though we had been made by the same creators. A mere man small in stature, yet with a presence so strong it was almost palpable.
The first thing I noticed was his clothes. Bold and colourful, exuding such spirit. All of us on Orr, those who dressed at all, wore dark, heavy clothes and armour, perpetually stained with blood, soot and slime. Our attire was always design to scare, to intimidate, to display our power and the position we held. But this man... His vestments demonstrated something else entirely. Something I couldnt even comprehend at the time. They did not intimidate me. On the contrary, they moved me, they amazed me... They inspired me. In all my life until then, Id never known inspiration, but in the time to come, his proud, strong visage would stay with me. So alien was this man to our world, that the very feelings his direct presence instilled in all those who surrounded him literally changed their lives. I could see, then and there, how he had been able to seduce so very many of my subjects. His very presence represented another world. A better world. A world one couldnt hope but to yearn for.
But what really moved my heart were his eyes. His piercing gaze that had haunted me in my dreams for so long. I expected to see a primal malice in his eyes, the hatred of a true beast, or at least the conviction of a dedicated warrior. But it was none of these things that burned in his gaze. No, what I saw was... A burden. There is simply no other way to describe it. This absolutely fascinated me, but at the same time it scared me. He did not want this victory at all badly enough. Perhaps, he didnt want it at all. How could one man fight so fiercely and work so hard for something he did not want with every part of his being? How could he wield such power, yet not want to rule with it? This mans mind was just too alien for me to understand.
Why did this man fight me so? Why, if it was not his purpose? Why, if he did not want it with his entire being? I asked him directly, my curiosity got the better of me. He had no answer. What was he thinking, I began to wonder. What went on in his mind that would produce such a fascinating creature? But I could not read his eyes any further. I merely stared into them, and they stared back into me. This strange experience was something Id never encountered before. Eye contact is what we, the denizens of Orr just didnt do. The creatures were either too frightened or too stupid to look us Overlords in the eyes, and my brothers and sisters were always too preoccupied with fulfilling their purpose. We existed in a single world as part of the same whole, but we never truly reached for each other for anything. Never in the same way as this man was reaching out to him. Id lived in this ever-burning world by myself for so very long that I was unsure of how to respond to another creature seeking to make contact with me in this way.
These eyes, they didnt want to just look at me, they wanted to see me. What were they looking for? What were they looking at? Startled, I realised that all this time, I had never once looked at myself through my own eyes. I always considered how I would look to my subjects, how I would present to my allies, or how I would intimidate my enemies. But I never wondered what I would look like to another seeking to make a connection. There had simply never been anyone to connect to. I found myself... Embarrassed. Like a child, I worried what this man was thinking. What was he really seeing? How was he interpreting it? What impression was I making? These thoughts and more crossed my mind. Thoughts unbefitting of an Empress. Yet I could not control them. This creature... This man... Was truly and completely alien to my world in every way imaginable.
A firestorm of unfamiliar, unsettling emotions raged in my heart. Yet at the same time, a very, very serious situation hung precariously balanced on an unstable edge. Though I lost track of time for a while, I know that we could not have spent more than a minute eying each other up before this strange slow motion returned to normal speed. I asked him, he had no answer. He demanded, I gave no response. I threatened, he parried. He challenged, I rebuffed. We engaged in a verbal duel, just the two of us, before a horde of monsters on both sides just waiting to spring into battle. The Jewel of the Flame fused to the top of the Tower of the Fire Sky gave all creatures on Orr, no matter their origin or state of intelligence, the ability to communicate with each other in perfectly clear, unambiguous terms. And the two of us must have stretched it to the limit.
We engaged, the two of us, in a verbal duel as heated as any battle Id been to. I spoke from the power I wielded, he with the cunning his kind prided themselves on, neither willing to act prematurely for fear of the power of the other. This man was a worthy opponent in no uncertain terms. And despite knowing that victory in these hostile negotiations could win the world for either side, I found myself secretly enjoying the exchange just for what it was. It was exhilarating, exciting, almost alluring. Never before had I interacted with another creature in such a consistent manner. It was becoming almost like a game, one that I knew I shouldnt be playing, but also one which I simply could not deny.
In the end, I won. I made this man see the power I wielded for what it truly was, and made him understand that, should he fight me, he would lose. He, in turn, made me know full well that, even if I won, the battle would be a Pyrrhic victory for me, for he held amazing power in his own hands. Though he threatened, he backed down and retreated. I had defeated the single greatest threat I had ever faced, and yet... I was left with the strange feeling that my opponent had held back. That he had let me win. Why, I simply couldnt understand, but I consoled myself in my victory just the same.
And my spoils of victory came in a strange form. A single name Captain Indivisible. The name of my enemy. The name of this weird and wonderful creature that fell out of the sky and changed my world. So strange and alien was that name, so difficult to pronounce, and yet... So interesting. What world would he come from where all men wore names like this? What would was it that attire such as this was considered normal? This man, this creature... What world did it come from, where there were others like him? Id lived for so, so long on this violent, hateful world that I had begun to assume all intelligent creatures lived to hate... Lived to destroy. That all beings sought nothing more than to fulfil their purpose. What point was there to life if not that? But this man, this Captain Indivisible... He was so very different from all of us on Orr. He brought with him... Hope. Though hope for what, I didnt know.
Our world changed after Captain Indivisible made his rebellion a reality. I kept my throne and my empire, he kept his rebellion and his followers. I still fought to kill him, he still fought to remove me from my throne. Seemingly, little had changed. But in truth, his actions had rocked the world to its very core. The things he preached, the way he spoke, the way he treated his followers... The creatures of Orr, warped and twisted after millennia of being nothing more than the Elders playthings, had finally started to awaken to their own will and their own intelligence.
And I... I stood confused. This man fascinated me simply by what he was. I wondered what motivated him, I wondered what he felt. I was... Inspired to think. To imagine. My entire life I had been preoccupied with what lay before my eyes and what lay inside my hands. These wars, this hatred, the conquest Id always aspired for... All this was what I saw in the world. But now, now I was beginning to see new things. Different things. I stood and wondered about what world must have spawned Captain Indivisible. I stood, and imagined what it must be like. I imagined what it would be like to see it. To experience is. I was in the middle of a very serious civil war, yet I felt... Happy. And not just happy, but happy in a silly way. Like a child that had seen nothing but hardship and struggle, I was simply happy for being happy. This new sensation was... Captivating such that I could not help but revel in the experience.
I was no longer alone on my little world, and though I shared it with an enemy, it made me happy just to know there was another. I was simply happy to be alive, which is something I never even considered before. Happy that I can be here to see this, to experience this. The satisfaction Id felt from my victories for the Elders and the satisfaction I had in establishing my empire, they... They didnt feel even remotely like this. For them, I had to keep reminding myself how well Id done. Now... Now I just couldnt escape from this omnipresent emotion. It followed me everywhere I went, and highlighted every thought that passed through my head.
And the more I delved into this strange fascination, the less and less important my grand empire seemed. And yet, I had an empire to run and a rebellion to combat, on top of my many distractions. But as hard as events may have looked, at the time, I really wasnt afraid.
Quote:
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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Blue Heart: A stranger in a strange land
Its strange, the things that go through your head when youre alone for so long. At first, I thought about the most obvious stuff. Man, Im screwed! How can I get out of here? How long will I be trapped in here? But, you know, you can only think about that stuff for so long. After a while, youre just sitting there, not sure what to do with yourself. And then the sadness starts. I started... Missing things. Weird things, too. Not at all the things Id thought I always wanted. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to have super powers and fight crime. But now that Is lost everything, the thing I missed the most was my family. Seeing my parents faces, hearing their voices. Knowing that they were always there for me, no matter what I did. Yeah, they annoyed me. We argued, they chastised me, we even hurt each other a few times. But at the end of the day, they were still the closest people I had.
I guess its true that we never appreciate the good things in our lives until we lose them. And in my case, the good things in my life Id simply rejected or ignored, chasing a stupid, childish dream. Like any punk kid, Id thought that happiness came from things. You know, powers, money, fame, that sort of thing. Well, even before I got lost in space, I had all that and I still wasnt happy. I guess thats just not how it works. Theres something... Very sad. No, very pathetic, about being so great and powerful, about doing all those super heroic deeds, and then coming home to an empty space with no-one to share that with. That just makes even the best things feel... Meaningless.
Trapped inside a metal coffin, floating through the cold vacuum of space... It didnt really scare me. In fact, the thing that really scared me was that I wasnt afraid. That I wasnt... Uncomfortable. Yeah, it was cold, and yeah, Id run out of oxygen, but it wasnt going to kill me. It was just painful. And, I know its weird to say that, but pain doesnt hurt. As a matter of fact, the lack of pain hurts much, much more. I just didnt feel... Anything. I was trapped and most likely doomed, but it was as if I didnt care. And that really scared me in a way that you just wouldnt understand. I wondered, didnt I have a purpose? Didnt I have anything to live for? I was a damn super hero, for crying out loud! Wasnt that worth fighting for? Wasnt that worth living for? Well... No. Not really.
Ever since I became a super hero, Id fought crime because I thought I had to. Thats what I always wanted, and even if it was a drag, God damn it, I was still going to fight on and persevere. Somewhere, at the end of the line, there had to be a good thing for me. I was so convinced the life of a hero would eventually feel... Right. But it never did. I did bigger and bigger stuff, and I got less and less satisfaction out of them. Always looking for the next big adventure, always looking for the next stronger bad guy, always hoping for... Something. And I never got anything back but the cold, heavy feeling that no matter what I did, I would never be satisfied. And floating here, cold and alone, what did I really stand to lose?
Nothing, really. The things I missed, Id already lost long ago. The things I had, I didnt really care for. The life I had... Honestly, in retrospect, really, really sucked. I was doing a really, really hard job, and I was getting absolutely nothing back from it. Sometimes, even back on Earth, Id wondered what would happen if I simply... Stopped fighting. Just gave up. Would it bring at least some relief from this pressure? And as I floated there, alone in the dark, I wondered. What if I stopped trying to maintain my body? I could just relax, go to sleep and let go of this... Weight. It would feel so good, so peaceful. Id probably drift off to sleep and never wake up. It was a horrible way to go, but if it would save me from this loneliness... In truth, I was as alone on Earth as I was here, but now there were no people around me for me to delude myself anymore. In the darkness of this metal crypt, I could no longer pretend.
But I couldnt give up. I was a hero, damn it! I had great power, big muscles and an exceptionally thick head. I had to go on, even if I didnt want to. It was my obligation. And, simplest of all, it was a decision I didnt have to make. Its very... Strange, how much easier it is to trust yourself to a set decision and blindly follow it through, than it is to think, decide and take responsibility for your actions. Even when it hurts, its just so simple to keep going and going until your strength gave out.
As it turns out, though, my stubbornness paid off. I floated through space for so long I lost all track of time. Sometimes it felt like Ive been trapped in there for years and years and other times it felt like Id only been there a couple of weeks. Trapped in a dark, weightless space, time feels like its standing still. But my time eventually moved forward.
Suddenly, after what felt like an eternity of nothing, I felt a small shudder in the capsule. It changed course. In a little while, it started to vibrate, slightly at first, but with increasing strength. Quickly, it began to shake wildly and very soon it all came to an end with a violent, loud jolt. And then the hatch slowly swung open, letting in what looked like a blinding ray of light. It only took me a second to realise what had happened. I had landed. But where? I wanted to go out, but my eyes hurt from the light. Id spent so long in total darkness that I couldnt even see. And as I stood there adjusting, I felt heat coming in from the outside. I thought Id spent too long in the bitter cold of space that normal temperature felt too much for me, but this was a little much.
Eventually, I could see well enough to leave the capsule and take in the world outside. Well, the first thing I noticed was strikingly obvious I was not on Earth. Whatever planet this was, it was not a good place. The sky was blood red and puffs of bright glowing fire moved around like clouds. In the distance, I saw a big, towering column of fire shooting us as high as the eye can see and these... Weird mountains that looked like they were made of something like silver of glass. As soon as I set foot outside my capsule, I stepped into this fine, soft... Ash. It stuck to my boots like soot, and it wasnt just around me. In fact, the ground was covered with this ash as far as I could see. Just an endless see of this jet black, perfectly flat surface. And all the while I stood there, looking around, there was this infernal heat almost trying to boil me alive, seemingly radiating from everywhere.
Now, Ive read a lot of sci-fi stuff, and the only way I could describe this planet was Hell. To be honest, thats pretty much like what I imagined hell would look like. And soon enough, I saw the demons that lived here. The first thing that struck me was a horrible, sour smell, like rotten eggs and dead fish combined. Then out from the horizon came these... Ugly creatures. They looked like someone crossed a dog with a bullfrog and ran it over with a pickup truck. Nasty, slimy, snarling beasts that charged at me on sight. Of course, I defended myself. My head may not have been all there at the time, but I wasnt stupid enough to get eaten by slugs with fangs. So... I fried them. Didnt take more than a single lightning bolt, they didnt turn out to be that tough. One got away, but the rest just sizzled like meat balls and slumped over.
So there I was, covered in soot like a chimney sweep, scratching my head wondering what to do, when I get the dumbest idea Ive probably ever had. Im in an alien world, so why dont I abandon my only way home and go look around. Its what Flash Gordon would have done, right? So, I go to look around, but its black desert for miles in any direction. Nothing to see, really, except more ash. I spent a couple of hours just flying around until I came to my senses. Divisions sphere had brought me here, and it had its own propulsion system. It could probably take me back home. Maybe I should have figured out if I cant make it work before I went exploring. You think!
Except when I got back to the crash site, the capsule was gone. There were, like, a thousand different footprints all around and a trench where whoever took my pod had dragged it away. I followed the footprints for about a mile, but eventually I lost the trail. The sweltering hot wind that always blew across this black desert simply erased the trail. I figured that, if I at least keep going in the same direction, I might find where they took my pod. I mean, were in a flat desert. Thats not exactly the kind of place you make sharp turns in. So I kept going, until I reached what looked like a small, black village, like the huts were made out of obsidian or something like that. There were these weird creatures that lived there, like tall, skinny blue people with horns coming out of random parts of their body. They were being harassed by more of those walking meatballs from earlier.
So I saved them. You know, I just rushed in and blasted the monsters, then set myself up to receive thanks. I hadnt really thought that one through all the way. I mostly acted out of habit. I mean, I was a hero, they needed saving, right? Well, no, because after I saved them, the blue people wanted to kill me. Luckily, they were pretty skittish, so we sort of squared off for a while until I managed to get it through to them that I meant them no harm. They seemed to understand. Shockingly, when one of them spoke up, I understood him, as well. He spoke perfect English, better than most people I knew back on Earth. Seems some kind of jewel or something allowed everyone on this planet to speak the same language. Weird, but convenient. The blue people didnt understand how it was possible I didnt want kill them. Turns out all everyone wants out of life on this planet is to kill other people. Talk about lack of imagination.
But eventually, the blue people took me in and told me the whole story of their world. This was the world of Orr, populated by many different creatures. Most were slaves to an evil Empress of Flame who sent her monsters out to terrorize the people of the tribes. She took their food, she took their magic and she worked them hard. These people were clearly miserable under the rule of this tyrant and I... I found myself wanting to help them. It was a really weird feeling I had. Id never actually listened to any of the people I saved before. Never knew their pain. Even as a super hero, I save people just because, but I never cared about them. But this was different. I could sympathise with these people. I wanted to help them, really, because I felt like they needed my help. I hadnt done almost anything for them knocking out a few frogdogs isnt really anything to speak of. And yet, I felt... Good. I felt like I was doing something right, like I was making a difference. And just like that, Id somehow taken on the role of their saviour.
I dont even remember what I told them. I dont think I promised them the world, but they clung on t me like drowning men to a life preserver, hanging on every word. I guess being the one man in the land who didnt want to kill them, rob them, enslave them or eat their children really impressed them. I spent a few days in their village of the blue people just trying to get my bearings, and before I knew it rumours of me were already spreading across the land. People spoke about the man who came from the sky, destined to save them from slavery.
More creatures eventually came to the village looking for me. Apparently this Empress had taken in interest in me, and I hadnt even done anything yet. Defeating them wasnt a big deal, but it set in motion another kind of rumour about me. Now the Empires subjects called me a mythical monster, a beast of legend and so on. I guess showing a bit of raw power was plenty enough to impress the simple creatures of the world.
But... Things just happened so quickly. One day Im some bum who landed on an alien planet without a clue, the next day Im leading a rebellion of weird creatures against even weirder creatures, running from village to village, organising secret rebel cells, leading councils, making decisions. And... I never really understood quite how that happened. Why were these people putting their faith in me so blindly? I didnt promise them anything. Hell, I was barely in one place long enough to protect the people there, and still I was praised as a hero.
But... I didnt dislike it. This... This was so different from the press and celebrity status I received back on Earth. Back home, I was just daily news, something people looked at as a mere curiosity. But here... Here, people really loved me. They believed in me. They trusted their property, their families, even their lives to me. And I liked that. Although I was surrounded by aliens so strange I could never hope to understand them, I... I didnt feel alone. Everywhere I want, people wanted to meet me. Not just see me and grab an autograph, but really meet me and talk to me. They seemed inspired by just my presence alone. They wanted me. They didnt want a hero. They wanted me, personally. And I, sad as it is to admit it, wanted them, as well.
But it was this mythical Empress that had me the most curious. Who was she? What did she look like? Was she as ugly a monster as the rest of her empire? Id read a lot of comic books, and I had a dozen different images of what an evil Empress might look like, even if she was a babe of some kind in all of them. Honestly, I blame comics for that.
But there was just... Something strange about her. The more I got to know this world, the more clear it became to me just how feral and savage it was. Its people lived in basic huts, and their daily life was preoccupied with nothing more than survival and conflict. Culture, arts, folklore, philosophy... Those things just didnt exist on the world of Orr. Its people, much as I admired them, were little more than animals, like primitive cave men just developing self-awareness. Yet this Empress was different. From her responses to my campaign, I could tell she was intelligent, planning and creative. Id seen her citadel many times, though only from afar. In a world where most people lived in glorified caves, her palace of granite, metal and obsidian stood out incredibly clearly. It was covered in fine ornaments, displayed exquisite architecture and invoked a strong feeling of power and authority.
The Empress was different from all the creatures of this world, and that intrigued me. In a world of brutes and fools, she was a powerful, cunning leader. A creature that seemed, for all intents and purposes, to rule a world she just did not belong to. Id seen the terrible cruelty and staggering violence displayed by her monsters. I knew she was ordering innocent people killed in an effort to find me. I knew she was evil incarnate. And yet, I couldnt help admiring how a creature so... Wonderful could exist on a world this bad. When I had been a super hero back on Earth, all I ever fought was scum and lowlifes, people only interested in satisfying whatever craving they had in their head, and hurting anyone who stood in their way. But this Empress... I dont know why I felt that, but I felt she was different. Her entire world was full of scum and lowlifes, but everything I knew about her told me that she... Just didnt belong in it.
Time passed without me ever noticing on the world of Orr. It had felt like mere days since this strangely exciting adventure began, but in reality Id been here for over a year. In that time, Id become the saviour of the people and the bane of the Empire. I alone represented the people of Orr, and fought for their freedom and right to live. I must admit I... Enjoyed... Oh, thats such a bad word in this context, but yes, I enjoyed it. I had a purpose that was actually meaningful to me, a purpose that I really, truly wanted to fulfil. I fought for these people, not because I was supposed to, but because I they needed me. Because I wanted to save them. And I almost did.
After all the preparation and coordination, our rebellion finally broke out. Id planned it very carefully. Battle was supposed to erupt all throughout the land and tie up as much of the Empresss forces as possible. This would allow me to take our main assault force and strike at the very seat of her power her citadel in the capital city. And it worked. We charged the games and slaughtered what few guards there were. But as we made our way up through the many corridors and staircases, something didnt feel right. In every movement of the Empresss forces in the past, I could read her tenacity and her power. But the defenders of her own throne were feeble at best. It didnt feel like she was protecting herself well at all, and that made me feel uneasy. It made me feel like we were walking into a trap. And, as it turns out, we were.
As soon as we broke into her throne room and found the empress alone on her throne, I knew something was terribly wrong, but... What I saw in there took my breath away. This wasnt the throne room of some powerful war lord. I was expecting it to be decorated with things like chains, metal sculptures, or even the heads of her slain enemies. Instead, it was... Beautiful. A great hall, tall and wide, with elegant white curtains draping gently over the walls. A thick red carpet led to a massive throne what looked like feather pillows lining the inside. I had just walked out of the burning pits of hell outside, and into a room that looked like an aristocratic palace.
And the Empress herself was a strikingly beautiful image. In a world full of such ugly, misshapen creatures, I was flabbergasted to find the evil Empress was... Almost perfectly human. I must admit, even though what Ive read in the comics, I expected her to be a giant spider, or a giant centipede or a giant maggot or something like that. But this... Just took my breath away. True, her skin was blood red and two small, but plainly visible horns adorned her face, her build was entirely human. Instead of the dark red clothes I was expecting an evil monarch to wear, she was almost wrapped in sheets of snow-white fabric, together forming what looked like an incredibly elaborate, flowing dress. It was incredibly hard for me to believe that a creature like this could exist on the world of Orr. Everything else Id seen to that point has been... Horrible. But this... This was different.
As I looked at her, I could feel the very physical heat of her gaze criss-crossing my body. I knew she was sizing me up as I was trying to figure her out. It was only natural for two adversaries who had never met in person before. But then our eyes met. Oh, those eyes... Its been so long since I first saw them, but even today, that image is locked inside my head. I looked at them, and I saw what I expected. Hatred. Malice. Fire. It seemed the Empress, at least in character, was exactly what I had expected. But there was something else in there, too. Something tugged on me as I looked at them, something else behind the fire and brimstone. It was something heavy, something dense, something hidden away deep down inside. But I saw it, just for a moment.
Sadness. Deep, crushing, overwhelming sadness. It flickered for just a moment, but it was there. Those eyes that burned with fire and hate, they were not the eyes of an evil monster. They were the eyes of a sad and tired woman. She fought me so hard, she committed so many atrocities, she hunted me with such tenacity... But why? I sat there and looked at here, and I knew one thing for certain this woman did not belong in this world. I think she knew that, too, even if I wasnt sure shed ever admit it. One question repeated in my head why was she doing this? I dont think she wanted to. No, she didnt want to. She had to. And in that split second, I understood. It all made sense to me. She wasnt an evil demon hell-bent on ruling the world. No, she was like me. She did what she had to, she had committed herself to a single purpose and, no matter how painful, she would see it through.
I knew how that felt so very well. I knew what it was like to simply not have the strength of will to fight your own fate, to not have the power to change. She was committed to this mad conquest, heart, body and soul. She was committed to it, because she simply could not do anything else. When a person falls into that cold, empty loneliness where life seems to have no point other than pursing that one, single purpose, it can be impossible to escape. This empress, this woman... She was not someone I should be fighting. No, not at all. She was someone I had to save. Someone I wanted to save.
I still remembered all the evil that shed done, but... It didnt matter to me at that moment. Everything shed done, every battle shed fought... That was simply not her. I couldnt know this before, but after seeing her in person, I knew the truth. She fought for her purpose every way she knew how, but in herself, she was different. She acted the same as this world, but she was not the same. She did not belong on Orr, and the more she tried to find a purpose on that infernal world, the more it corrupted her. I could see now that, underneath the empire, underneath the wars, underneath all fire and brimstone, there lay a good person, hidden away where no-one could see. But I saw her. And I think she understood.
Of course, I couldnt just say that to her face we were at war and I knew wed just walked into a trap. I couldnt fight her, either, as I could tell she would kick my butt. So while I was trying to think of something appropriate to say, she spoke first. Id expected her to have this deep, matriarchal voice, instead, she sounded like a little girl. That really threw me off my game. She asked me why I fought her so hard, and... I really didnt have an answer to that. At first I fought her soldiers because I thought she was evil. But right at that moment, I didnt want to fight her at all. So I just sat there thinking, trying not to look like a goof. But the conversation became more serious after that.
She told me she had enough power to wipe us all out with one hand tied behind her back. Err... Not in her own words, of course. And I could tell she could. Then again, I was Captain Indivisible, super hero! So, I wasnt about to back down from a threat. So we kept talking, each trying to browbeat the other side into backing off. You know, threats, belittlement, ridicule... Just like kindergarten. Except here, the loser dies a horrible, fiery death. At first she talked all regal and formal, you know, playing the big and powerful Empress, but by that point, I knew it was just an act. Eventually, her tone changed, and she became a little more personable. You know, talking in shorter sentences and getting more involved. And she was clever. Witty, too. I mean, every now and then you could almost hear the crowd of rebels just take a step back and go Oh, snap! She was almost... Playful. And I sort of... Got lost in our exchange. I found it incredibly amazing how this powerful, proud being transformed in front of my eyes and turned into... Well, a regular person. I actually thought it was kind of cute, and I guess I goaded her on a little. Frankly, at one point it almost seemed like she was enjoying it. I guess when you live in a word where everyone has all the personality of a garbage disposal, its nice to just... Talk with another person. Even if we talked about how wed kill each other. Its really funny how you can tell someone youre going send a lightning bolt through their head and see them smile. It was an odd experience.
At the end, though, we came to a... Weird agreement. I knew we were all dead if she wanted to kill us, but she... Didnt seem to want to. Yeah, its true that I held a lot of power, myself, and if wed fought, theres a good chance the Empress, herself, would have likely suffered severely. But really, it felt more like she was looking for an excuse not to kill us. You know, something that sounded convincing. I guess she was trying to convince herself. I know exactly how that feels. When youre so dead-locked into a singular purpose, you cant even consider giving up, but... At times you find things that feel... Strangely right. And even though you know you shouldnt want them, you cant help but wish you had no choice but to have them. Well, the Empress had no choice but to let us go. And I think that made her happy. It made me happy, too. For some reason, by the time me and the rebels went out the door, I could no longer catch that cold sadness in her eyes. I wondered if I wasnt seeing it, or if it was somehow just not there.
The rebellion failed, but I did not leave empty-handed. I came out of it with a name. Grimwall. The true name of the Empress of Flame. It seems few on Orr actually knew her name, or cared to know it, for that matter. Few on this world care about much of anything at all, in fact. I was slowly starting to realise that, and... It bothered me. I was fighting for these creatures, fighting for their freedom, for their happiness, but... What did they really want? Was it any of those lofty ideals, or was I just a means to an end for them, a way to get more food, more land and more power? Slowly I was realising that it wasnt so much justice they wanted, as they just didnt want to share their resources.
But Grimwall was different. Id seen her. I talked to her. I felt like I knew her, however little it may have been. She was better than all of them. She wasnt feral, she was... A real person. A person with feelings. With a heart. And though she may have acted like a monster, I knew she was not. No, she was a person trapped in a horrible world. I realise Id felt her presence since the very first moment I set foot on this ever-burning planet. Not because of some kind of magical connection, nothing like that. Simply because this world, packed with life though it may have been, was empty and so lonely. And years of empty praise from excited locals, I was finally starting to realise that. On this strange, alien world, the two of us were alone.
The rebellion didnt end, of course, not with a single failure. But what ended was my foolishness. Like a punk kid, Id revelled in the attention and the praise I was getting from the tribes. I thought I was such a big hero. I thought I was doing it for them. But at the end of the day, I was still helping them to help myself. I felt down and depressed, and helping them made me feel better. I thought I cared about them, but in the end all I cared about was saving them. Making them better. Had I paid attention, I would have realised they didnt want to be better. That they didnt care about me. All they cared about was themselves. Their land, their food, their villages. They didnt need saving. They didnt even want saving. All they wanted was more war, and more victories. And I was a fool to have played along, their ace in the sleeve. I thought I was saving them, I thought I was helping them. But in the end, I simply needed them to give myself a new purpose. But like my old purpose, this one was just as empty.
But even though I lost my faith in these people, I gained something else. A spark of... Feeling. A strange kind of feeling that I remembered Id felt before. The same feeling I felt when I realised I had led Cindy Terrance die. A feeling that I want to save a person. Not because I have to. Not because I should. Not because it will make me feel better. No, to save a person because it broke my heart to see that person suffer. I felt... I wanted to save Grimwall from her fate. To cure this terrible sadness in her eyes, to help her break free of the single-minded person she was locked in. To save her soul from the cold and lonely void I knew it was trapped in. From the cold and lonely void I knew all too well.
I had been so selfish all my life. I had hurt and ignored so many people just to make myself feel better. Even the good I did for others, I dismissed, because all I cared about was how it made me feel. But after seeing Grimwall, after looking into her eyes... All I could think about was her.
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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I spoke my praise too soon.
This has every hint of becoming epic.
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I spoke my praise too soon.
This has every hint of becoming epic.
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I hope that's a good thing, so thanks
I apologise for the meaningless post, but reality seems to have intervened with my writing. I went through a nasty operation yesterday, and I'm counting the hours until they remove all of this crap from my nose. 10 and counting
Will be back with something meaningful as soon as that's done.
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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A bit of criticism here about the "voice" of your story more than about the story itself.
I like the ideas being explored in this story. The dual viewpoint is interesting. I'm not so crazy about about the whole "first person, no dialog" delivery. I have a feeling like I'm going to get to the end and I'll have read a synopsis of something that should have been expanded into a novel.
A better way to put it, perhaps, is that we readers are getting the benefit of Tommy's viewpoint (since he's relating past events) without getting the benefit of any of the experiences that led him to form those views.
What was it in the "duel" in the tower that got his attention and formed that first tentative bond? What soured him on the people he was leading? Why the cynicism, and why the conviction that his enemy is really his only peer and his new conviction that she is the one who really needs saving?
The story so far has been entirely an intellectual exercise. I don't believe that Tommy could have reached his current views based on an intellectual experience. He had some cathartic emotional experinces that led to this, but he isn't telling us what they were, or at least he is describing them so clinically that we readers have no chance to share the experience. We're left with just general effects that they had on his thinking.
The same can really be said of Grimwall, but it's more forgivable in her case. As Tommy is a hero in name, not in his heart, but he's now awakening to a calling from his heart, Grimwall is an automaton who is awakening to sentience (figuratively speaking). Emotion above rudimentary levels is a foreign thing to her, and the emotions inspired by Tommy's presence are part of her fascination with him. From what we know about her, it would be the natural state of affairs for her to view every event in her life colored by a very limited range of emotions.
I'm focussing on the tower confrontation because it feels like this huge climactic event, but there really isn't any climax. You could write a whole short story just about the raid on the tower and the "duel of minds" (shades of Vizzini!) that ended in a stalemate and the first sliver of doubt in the minds of the worlds mightiest combatants. I know I'd enthusiastically consume it.
When you finish this story, my recommendation would be that you take a fresh look at it, envisioning it not as a single story, but as a "story pitch" for a series of linked short stories, each telling its own chapter of the greater journey of Grimwall and Captain Indivisible towards whatever ends they finally reach.
Dammit, why didn't I keep up with this?
Okay... Here's what I have to say.
I like this, and not simply because it's descriptive. One of the things I like about "first-person" narratives is that they tend to be just the way the character wants them to be. The author is forced into the mind of the creation and has to experience all the thoughts, hopes, and, more importantly, you see how the character sees him or herself.
I can't wait to see where this goes. I intend to put it in the next Fan Fiction Spotlight I can put it into.
My Stories
Look at that. A full-grown woman pulling off pigtails. Her crazy is off the charts.
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A bit of criticism here about the "voice" of your story more than about the story itself.
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Thank you kindly for that I've always been one to appreciate criticism of all kinds. I makes me think harder and figure things out, so it's very welcome. I would like to respond to a few points, and please read my speech with the most mellow, analytical tone you can imagine, because that's what it is, in essence.
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I like the ideas being explored in this story. The dual viewpoint is interesting. I'm not so crazy about about the whole "first person, no dialog" delivery. I have a feeling like I'm going to get to the end and I'll have read a synopsis of something that should have been expanded into a novel.
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I have had several people tell me that my stories lacking dialogue is their most obvious weakness. However, I've been playing around with different styles of writing for coming on ten years now, and this first person recollection is, really, the only one I know to do well. I have simply found that it is much easier for me to depict the emotions and experiences of the characters by having them explain them directly, than by trying to convey them in such a way that the reader could guess at them.
In a sense, consider this not so much a story (even though I called it one) as a confession. This is something you would get if you sat the protagonist(s) down and had them retell their stories as they saw them. To be honest, I've always been allured by simple documentaries on Discovery that retell past traumatic experience in interviews from the participants. I can often just sit and listen to them without even bothering to look at the screen.
There's also the fact that I can only write while I can maintain inspiration, and I can maintain inspiration only for very short amounts of time. Essentially, I'm experiencing the story as I am telling it. That is what drives me to describe and what drives me to imagine. Once that is gone, the words simply don't come out. If it takes so long to write that I "run out of steam," it ends up unfinished, like most everything else I've started. I just like this approach because it's as quick to write, if not quicker, than my flow of thought moves.
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What was it in the "duel" in the tower that got his attention and formed that first tentative bond? What soured him on the people he was leading? Why the cynicism, and why the conviction that his enemy is really his only peer and his new conviction that she is the one who really needs saving?
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I'd like to avoid being cheesy, but consider it a moment of inspiration. We were all kids one, going with the flow and unsure of what we liked. And then suddenly we saw something, however simple it may be, that took our breath away. It could be something as grand as the love of your life, or something as simple as the anime outfit of Gex from Gex 3: Enter the Gecko. People who love cars, for instance, will often recall an experience when they saw, say, a cool muscle car and fell in love with engines in the blink of an eye.
I realise it's difficult to convey through text, and twice as bad that I'm actually explaining it (I know it ruins the scene, so sorry about that!), but in this story, you're pretty much supposed to take the characters on their word. In a few words, why the Captain undergoes a change of heart so sudden and severe is that he found something worth fighting for, which gave him a new perspective on all the things he'd been fighting for until then. What's really worth it, after all?
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The story so far has been entirely an intellectual exercise. I don't believe that Tommy could have reached his current views based on an intellectual experience. He had some cathartic emotional experinces that led to this, but he isn't telling us what they were, or at least he is describing them so clinically that we readers have no chance to share the experience. We're left with just general effects that they had on his thinking.
The same can really be said of Grimwall, but it's more forgivable in her case. As Tommy is a hero in name, not in his heart, but he's now awakening to a calling from his heart, Grimwall is an automaton who is awakening to sentience (figuratively speaking). Emotion above rudimentary levels is a foreign thing to her, and the emotions inspired by Tommy's presence are part of her fascination with him. From what we know about her, it would be the natural state of affairs for her to view every event in her life colored by a very limited range of emotions.
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I fear of ruining the story itself, so I'll try to answer that as abstractly as I can. I, myself, am a great believer in the power of the eyes. Ever since I was a kid, I've been able to read people, total strangers even, just by the way they held themselves and by how their eyes looked on their face. Now, unlike in a fictional world, I could never be as finely perceptive or so unfailingly accurate, but then I haven't really found almost any other person in the real world who'd been willing to return my gaze. And those who have are always precious.
So take Tom and Grimwall on their word. What they feel isn't really a subject to interpretation - feelings rarely are. WHY they feel it is, and understanding the why is the point of the story.
I will admit, however, that the story IS an intellectual exercise. I always thought myself a storyteller, in that I liked to tell stories. But in reality, what I like to do, and what ends up as the point of my stories, are these character dynamics. They are, down to a basis, intellectual exercises aimed to make characters feel real, to make my readers understand and sympathise with them, be they good or evil. And though I hold plot to a very high importance, in the end it's always the characters' actions that drive it, rather than being passengers through it.
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I'm focussing on the tower confrontation because it feels like this huge climactic event, but there really isn't any climax. You could write a whole short story just about the raid on the tower and the "duel of minds" (shades of Vizzini!) that ended in a stalemate and the first sliver of doubt in the minds of the worlds mightiest combatants. I know I'd enthusiastically consume it.
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I have a few more things to say about the story. Consider the intellectual battle not the end, but rather the middle of the story. What I find the most interesting is what is yet to be told, which is why I look forward to having all that medical crap removed from my face, that I may sit down and write again, instead of wallowing in the self pity of my pain and discomfort.
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When you finish this story, my recommendation would be that you take a fresh look at it, envisioning it not as a single story, but as a "story pitch" for a series of linked short stories, each telling its own chapter of the greater journey of Grimwall and Captain Indivisible towards whatever ends they finally reach.
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It has become clear to me that the biggest limiting factor that I, personally, face is duration of inspiration. I am physically incapable of writing long stories, simply because my inspiration expires too fast. My second biggest limiting factor is my outright lack of skill. I have a good vocabulary, yes, but actual literary approaches devices are simply unknown to me. What I know about writing, I've invented all by myself, and I'm not a very clever person, so I'm already at a disadvantage. For instance, I read some of the Goodly Ogre story, and I was absolutely fascinated by the sheer beauty of the language used there. That kind of action descriptive is just out of my league. Se if my stories feel simplistic, that is because they are. If I can't do the complicated things, then I can do the next best thing and make the story genre simpler
I would like to extend a thanks yo you, SlickRiptide, for the comments and the criticism. I enjoyed reading them and I enjoyed responding to them. I only hope they don't come out as complete babble. Plus, you just saved me an extra hour of waiting for my operation tomorrow
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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When someone takes the time to critique one of my stories, I take as a compliment that they felt inspired to put the energy into doing it. Not everyone feels that way, I know.
I'm looking forward to seeing the conclusion. I do think that what you've got here is the makings of a pretty good fantasy novel, aside from the little niggling fact that one of the protagonists is a superhero. *heh*
Good luck with the nose. My wife had nose surgery several years ago, so I've got some idea what that's like (vicariously, but some).
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I'm focussing on the tower confrontation because it feels like this huge climactic event, but there really isn't any climax. You could write a whole short story just about the raid on the tower and the "duel of minds" (shades of Vizzini!) that ended in a stalemate and the first sliver of doubt in the minds of the worlds mightiest combatants. I know I'd enthusiastically consume it.
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I suppose I can understand your feelings here. I'll even entertain the idea that I'm a rather flawed reader; I'm entirely willing, and frequently do, read through several hundred pages of text, or even entire books, because I enjoy one scene, or a paragraph. One book on my shelf stayed there for years because of three words. I kid you not.
So, take it with a grain of salt when I say that I enjoyed the Tower confrontation not as a climax, because it wasn't one. It simply didn't have the build up and the necessary emotion to be a climax. It was a glorified prologue. It serves the purpose of introducing two charaters to each other, and comparing their relative views. The fact that a confrontation, which could have been a climax under different circumstances, is treated in a rather off-handed manner is all the more engrossing to me, because if something that could have been filled with emotion is given very little, it will draw attention, and thus significance to the moments where emotion is actually displayed. That's the foundation of good drama, yes?
Samuel, I'm afraid I can't give you much more than support on your writing. I'm very instinctual about my own, so my ability to pass on technique is nill. I will say, though, that good work has a feel to it. You have more than vocabulary, sir. You have rhythm, and less of a simplicity as a simple elegance. What you should do, I think, is write more.
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The fact that a confrontation, which could have been a climax under different circumstances, is treated in a rather off-handed manner is all the more engrossing to me, because if something that could have been filled with emotion is given very little, it will draw attention, and thus significance to the moments where emotion is actually displayed. That's the foundation of good drama, yes?
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Yes, but I want it right now!
I think it's fair to say that in the overall story it's a pivotal event rather than a climactic one. As you say, the actual climax should be that much more compelling when it arrives.
I am replying to your very first post for a reason. I read a great deal of the story before i decided to log in and give you a reply.
English is THE most difficult language to learn in the world; due to its very versitility. You are doing excellently with this tale. I am an avid reader. I could talk for hours on the Tales of Xanth or the Dragonriders of Pern. Your tale ranks as good as either of them.
Continue with your tale. If it is enjoyable to you, it's good. Too many authors write tales that 'fit' a set formula. Yours is NOT of a formula. Your story is YOURS!!!
Write it and let the rest of us enjoy it as we wish. Believe me, anything else is not satisfying in the least.
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When someone takes the time to critique one of my stories, I take as a compliment that they felt inspired to put the energy into doing it. Not everyone feels that way, I know.
I'm looking forward to seeing the conclusion. I do think that what you've got here is the makings of a pretty good fantasy novel, aside from the little niggling fact that one of the protagonists is a superhero. *heh*
Good luck with the nose. My wife had nose surgery several years ago, so I've got some idea what that's like (vicariously, but some).
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Well, Rip. You will notice I appreciated your comments on my story as well. I'm sure this author will, too. Feedback is important. It gives the author an idea of the author successes and (more importantly) failures. Please don't try to force an author into a mold (which you don't do, thankfully). An author's BEST work comes from following their own heart. They just need guidance on occasion to see if they have left a reader behind.
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Samuel, I'm afraid I can't give you much more than support on your writing. I'm very instinctual about my own, so my ability to pass on technique is nill. I will say, though, that good work has a feel to it. You have more than vocabulary, sir. You have rhythm, and less of a simplicity as a simple elegance. What you should do, I think, is write more.
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And that is quite enough, I assure you. I put a lot of heart into that story, and though real life has prevented me from working on it for some time, I intend to put a lot more in it just the same. I HATE leaving stories unfinished, so I'm adamant to finish this one
*edit*
Oh, and could I please have your permission to use your sig at some point?
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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When someone takes the time to critique one of my stories, I take as a compliment that they felt inspired to put the energy into doing it. Not everyone feels that way, I know.
I'm looking forward to seeing the conclusion. I do think that what you've got here is the makings of a pretty good fantasy novel, aside from the little niggling fact that one of the protagonists is a superhero. *heh*
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Well, I've never been too good with genres, I'm afraid But yes, I very much appreciate every bit of feedback I receive. It tells me what I did right, what I did wrong, it makes me think about things harder, and it lets me chat about a story with people who read it In today's society, that seems to come harder and harder, at least on this end of the world.
So, thanks
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Good luck with the nose. My wife had nose surgery several years ago, so I've got some idea what that's like (vicariously, but some).
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And, yeah. I was told it would take a day and I wouldn't feel a thing. Turns out it'll take two weeks and I'll be really, really miserable in the meantime. I still have two metal plates up my nose and bleed from it all the time. Just gonna' have to wait it our, I guess.
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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Continue with your tale. If it is enjoyable to you, it's good. Too many authors write tales that 'fit' a set formula. Yours is NOT of a formula. Your story is YOURS!!!
Write it and let the rest of us enjoy it as we wish. Believe me, anything else is not satisfying in the least.
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I've always been a firm believer in personal touch and not restricting yourself with limitations, so I agree with that completely. There's also the fact that how I do things is pretty much the only way I know how, but let's not go there
And thank you for your support. I only hope my next chapter does not disappoint
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Originally Posted by Arcanaville
Samuel_Tow is the only poster that makes me want to punch him in the head more often when I'm agreeing with him than when I'm disagreeing with him.
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I'd just like to put in a few words before I get to the actual story. First and foremost, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I'm REALLY, REALLY looking forward to any and all comments you may have on this. I'm extremely interested in hearing what people thing about... Everything. I don't want to ask specific questions. Both concept and presentation feedback is very much appreciated.
I apologise for the length, but this is who I am and how I do things. I can't say things in a few words, not even when I'm speaking with people (be afraid, be very afraid), so the length is what it is. It's just one chapter, though it probably should have been at least two. It's a prologue, though, so it didn't feel right to break it down.
Finally, yes, that's a female narrator in the first part. As the story is called "A tale of two hearts," expect to see another narrator soon.
Thank you for your time