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Author Topic: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove  (Read 3016 times)

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Offline Operative13

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Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« on: September 21, 2016, 01:05:41 AM »
On occasion, I tend to write tidbits here-and-there that don't exactly fit anywhere in the Chelderan Chronicles universe, at least not anywhere I can think of... so in order to shove everything out as a sort of "Brain Dump," I dedicate this topic to everything and anything that relates to my developing stories and other random things.  :D
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

Offline Operative13

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #1 on: September 21, 2016, 01:07:05 AM »
Spoiler
The muffled cries of a young girl filled the air as she bit into a roll of towel, the sharp pain of a scalpel entering her flesh as a surgeon worked his way into the open wound in her back.

“Just a little longer, dearie,” a nurse comforted as she held the young girl’s hand. “We’re almost done here.”

Blood poured onto the thin, metal operating table on which she laid, as the surgeon meticulously widening the wound’s gap. The girl’s hollers grew increasingly loud, and the nurses struggled to hold her steady, even with the leather straps tied around her. The surgeon reached inside with a pair of tweezers and slowly extracted a small bullet from the wound, examining the bloodied object carefully through his goggles.

“Damn...” he muttered.

The surgeon dropped the bullet into a small dish on the side and began scrounging through the opening even further. The girl’s screams pierced everyone’s ears as she twitched and shook uncontrollably, the nurses putting their full weight onto her slim limbs as the surgeon did his work. The surgeon widened the wound just enough to see the small piece of shrapnel that had broken off from the bullet. Keeping calm and oblivious to the girl’s agony, the surgeon carefully reached in with his tweezers until the young girl jerked again, forcing him to retreat.

“Hold her steady!” the surgeon yelled. The girl had lost too much blood on her way to the triage stations and the surgeon knew that anymore delays would cause her to pass out. The nurses did all they could to keep the young girl from moving as the surgeon tried once again to retrieve the tiny shrapnel lodged near her spine. Holding the wound open with the back of his scalpel, the surgeon reached back in with his tweezers and with great concentration pinched the tip of the shrapnel, taking care not to weaken his grip as he extracted the elusive metal piece out and dropped it atop the metal dish next to the bullet. After quickly inspecting the opening for any missing bits and pieces, the surgeon nodded and closed the wound back up.

“Give her stitches and a pack of blood. Move her to tier three and keep her monitored for a few days.” Placing the tools into a bucket of other used, bloodied tools and dispensing his gloves into a trash bin, the surgeon wiped the top of his forehead and walked out of the stuffy, white tent and headed off to operate on the next patient.

The girl still quivered from the severe shock of pain she endured through her surgery, yet even as the other nurses began to insert the heated needles into the base of her skin, the nurse that held her hand throughout the operation gently patted the top of the girl’s head, easing her pain just slightly as tears and sweat dripped from underneath her long golden-silk hair.

“It’s alright, Ms. Ruren. It’s over,” the nurse said.

[] [] [] [] []

Months Later...

“How’s Isabelle’s recovery going?”

“It’s not looking good... she hasn’t many any progress within the past few months.”

“...how bad is it?”

“She hasn’t gained any feelings in her legs since the operation. Her rehabilitation hasn’t yielded any progress so far, and it looks like she might be permanently disabled.”

“But people still recover from this, right!?”

“Yes, but given what we have so far, she might not be so lucky. It could take years for someone to recover from this depending on the severity. We’ll keep monitoring her progress for now and see what we can do from there. Don’t worry. We’ll take good care of her.”

“...thank you.”

“Come back whenever you have more questions for us.”

“I just have one more thing to ask.”

“And what would that be?”

“Where is she now?”

[] [] [] [] []

At the front entrance to the mud-ridden camp hidden deep within a vast forest, three guards in deep-blue coats stood at attention, with their rifles shouldered and black boots riddled in dry dirt. The entrance was nothing but a simple wooden barrier gate and a small canopy hanging over a pair of chairs and table lined with papers and documents held down by stone weights. A flag with five alternating light-dark blue horizontal stripes sat drooped on a metal pole off to the side of the canopy, nudging every now-and-then to the slight breeze amidst the bright, cloudless sky.

Columns of soldiers shuffled by, vehicles sputtered their engines, and the endless commotion of orders and idle talk reverberated throughout the air as Isabelle hopped over to the gate, her crutches in hand and blue coat swaying to-and-fro as the guards hailed her approached.

“Ah, Isabelle!” one of the guards called out, a middle-aged man with a short beard. “Going out again today?”

“That’s right, Neil!” Isabelle smiled, leaning into her crutches as she stopped short of the barrier.

“Alright then.” Neil gestured to the two other guards, who proceeded to unhinge the weight at the end of the barrier. The weight slowly dropped to the ground, and the long, wooden pole rose steadily into the air, making way for Isabelle to cross.

“Well... see you later,” Isabelle waved before lifting her crutches up again.

“Hold up, Isabelle,” Neil said. Isabelle stopped and stared at the guardsman confused. “There’s been reports of enemy activity nearby. I suggest you take one of my men to look after you during your walk.” Neil nodded to one of the guardsman, a young boy around Isabelle’s age, who promptly walked up rather timidly. Neil swung his arm over the boy’s neck and tugged him in. “Christian here is more than willing to accompany you! I swear on my pride he’ll keep you safe!”

“Sir, I...” Christian mumbled, but all Neil did was gave a sly wink.

Isabelle simply smiled again. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Are you sure? You could run into trouble sometime. And uh... it’d be shameful for us men to leave a pretty girl like yourself all alone out there.” Neil smirked a playful grin, with Christian still locked in his arm’s grip.

“I can take care of myself. Besides... it’s nice being on my own.”

“Well, if you insist,” shrugged Neil, releasing his grip on Christian. Christian muttered disgruntled at Neil’s rough handling, rubbing the side of his sore arms from the tight grip earlier.

Just as Isabelle was about to carry herself off into the woods, Christian cried out.

“Wait!” He ran up to her and began unbuckling his leather holster.

“What are you...”

“I’m giving you my pistol. So hold still for a moment.”

Isabelle thought about protesting him for a moment, but he was already fastening the holster onto her. With a slight tug, the holster tightened firmly around Isabelle’s waist. Christian shook the holster strap for a bit, checking if it was secure.

“There! All done!” Christian proclaimed. “How is it?”

Isabelle, slightly embarrassed, replied softly. “It’s fine...” She couldn’t tell if her face was red or not, but Christian apparently felt embarrassed as well, as he gazed awkwardly around, trying not to stare at her.

“Thanks...” Isabelle finally said, breaking the momentary silence.

“Don’t mention it...” replied Christian.

“I’ll be going now.” Isabelle turned away and started off again. “Bye everyone!” she called out.

“Take care of yourself, kid!” Neil hollered. Christian stood motionless as she shuffled away down the road, staring with his mouth slightly open. It was then that the other guardsman, a freckled-faced boy around Christian’s age, broke into hysterical laughter.

“Bwahahaha!” he bellowed. “That was pathetic! You should see the look on your face! Ahahahaha!”

“Shut up, Dan!” Christian blasted, his face turned clear-red.

“Here you are, thinking you’d finally get a chance to go out with her and you blow it! What happened to the ‘knight in shining armour’ you said you’d be, eh?”

“As if you had any more chance than me! I’m sure she’ll grow on me eventually.”

“She’s way out of your league, bud. No way a girl as pretty as her will go out with someone as awkward as that! Save whatever dignity you have left and just give up already.”

“Not a chance!”

“You did alright, Christian,” Neil commended. “Just... give it a bit more time and effort and she might consider.”

“By the way Neil, that was a nice story you made up earlier. I wouldn’t have come up with a more legitimate way to stick poor Christian with Isabelle anymore than that!” Dan chuckled.

“I wasn’t joking when I said there was enemy activity,” said Neil.

Everyone suddenly dropped their facial expressions.

“Wait... then that girl...” Dan muttered.

“She’ll be alright,” Neil reassured. “She’s been through more than you can imagine.”

Neil and Dan returned to their posts and stood guard at the barrier, with Christian staring down the road with worried looks. Shaking his head, he walked back to the barrier and took his position with the rest of the guardsmen.
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

Offline Operative13

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #2 on: September 21, 2016, 01:30:39 AM »
Spoiler
With the way the ghettos are organized, there are several alleyways criss-crossing one another in a maze-like labyrinth, with dead-ends and circles all around. One could easily lose oneself in these alleyways if they were inexperienced around these parts. With that in mind, one could say it was to be expected that I should find myself running into one such person by chance, even at this time of night.

As I was about to pass an intersection, I hear a rather loud commotion coming out from the right alley, and stopped just behind the wall.

“Please, leave me alone!” said the voice of a young girl. “I don’t know what you want from me, but whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

“You’re a long way from home, Missy...” a husky voice replied. “...got yourself lost coming to these parts?”

Curious as to what was going on, I decided for a brief moment that I would simply watch before carrying on with my own business. So I peered over the corner and observed the commotion as it unfolded.

“Please, just go away,” the girl demanded. I was stunned to find just how alluring she was. She had to be around her mid-teens judging by her school uniform, but one could already tell she had the form of a fully-grown woman. Her large bust was bulging from her plain-white collar shirt, her long, wavy blonde hair reached way down to her thin waist, and her well-rounded thighs peering out from her pleated skirt shone splendidly through the dim moonlight! What I wouldn’t give to consume her... shame someone else got to her first.

The scrawny man assaulting the poor girl leaned in and placed his arm over her shoulder, asserting dominance over his prey. With glaring eyes, he eyed up-and-down the girl’s body with malicious intent, his grin smeared across his dull face.

“That’s no good Missy!” he pouted. “It’s dangerous to go alone out there! Maybe I could offer you some protection... for a price.” He placed his hand underneath the girl’s chin and pressed up, lifting her face to his. At this point I could already guess what would happen next, and debated to myself whether I should leave or stick around to snap a few photos... but it didn’t matter. I should have left when I had the chance.

The girl didn’t take kindly to the man’s advance, and promptly headbutted him right in the nose. He hollered in pain as blood dripped from his nostrils, only to be kneed in the one place every man wishes not to. The girl took her opportunity and tried to make her getaway, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back in by the man’s tight grip. He wrapped his arm around her waist and immediately pulled a knife to her neck, the sharp blade barely touching the skin. The man laughed manically as the girl struggled to break free.

“You got me real good there, Pretty Girl...” he taunted.

“Let go of me!” she demanded, wriggling her body around in vain. He only gripped tighter as she did. “Do you know who you’re messing with!?”

“Does it look like I care?” he replied, wrapping his face around her body, sniffing through that broken olfactory appendage of his. “I was thinking about letting you off easy... but then you just had to do that to me... no, I think you deserve something else...” He began pressing the knife against the girl’s throat.

“You won’t get away with this!” the girl shouted. “My dad will make sure scum like you get what’s coming to you!”

“Oh... Daddy’s Little Girl, huh?”

“He’s not just any dad... he’s Detective William Stromberg, the best detective in the city!”

That name... William Stromberg... he’s the one constantly breathing down my neck every time I hunt for prey. Ever since the police force assigned him to the Special Case Unit, I’ve had to change my schedule on a daily basis just to throw them off. The detective has a knack for solving crime and had a long-running success streak since he came to the force. No longer was I able to freely catch big game like I normally would... I’ve had to resort to small fry to sustain my hunger since.

“Detective Stromberg?” the man grunted.

“You heard me right... he’ll have you locked up in time with the evidence he has on you. You’re nothing more than spare change to him!”

The man did nothing more than grin hysterically at her baseless threats. “And where is this ‘Detective Stromberg,’ huh? Out here, you’re nothing kid, and Detective or no Detective, I’ll do what I damn well please!” He tugged her hair high into the air, the girl screaming in pain as he playfully toyed with her. “Now Stromberg... that name rings a bell... I think there’s a bounty for his daughter that some group was willing to pay quite handsomely for her. And how would they love to send his daughter in pieces!” The man cackled as he suddenly threw the girl against a pile of trash.

“Forget manners, I think I’ll just cut you up and claim my reward, right here and now!” With a crazed look, he lifted his knife, ready to strike. “This’ll be the easiest cash-in I’ve ever had!”

I knew I should have left...  it never did any good for me to stick around because I knew instinctively that if I ever saw harm come to a woman, I’d do something about it. After all, they’re too good to be wasted away.

Breathing a deep and hardy sigh, I pulled up my black facemask from underneath my shirt collar and reached for my small six-shot revolver in a chest holster hidden behind my large trench coat. Checking my shots, I snap the wheel back into place and cocked the hammer back as I tilt my fedora and emerged from the shadows.

“You’re mine!” the man yelled as he lunged at the paralyzed girl, her life apparently flashing before her eyes before I pulled the trigger. The knife was sent flying across the air as the man’s hand now had a bloody gaping hole through it. At first, everyone froze and stood dumbfounded at what had happened. That was until the man looked through the hole in his hand and immediately started screamed in pain, cursing quite colourfully I might add.

“I wouldn’t touch her if I were you...” I said, keeping my gun trained on the pitifully frail man.

“You bloody bastard!” he cried out, holding his injured hand in the palm of the other. “You’ll pay for this!”

“You wanna bet your life on that?” I retorted. This fight was over before it began, but if he was stupid enough to charge at me, I’d be in a bigger mess than what I originally got myself into. The last thing I needed was a body under my name. And the Detective’s daughter was there to serve as witness out of all people.

“Why you...” he muttered.

“I’ll be taking my prize now, so if you don’t mind, why don’t you scram before I put another shot into you? And this time I won’t be so generous.”

The man clenched his teeth before making the smart decision and running off into the distance.

“I won’t forget this! I’ll be back, and once I do, you’ll regret ever crossing lines with me!” With his bloody hand clenched between his armpit, he disappeared into the night. I didn’t know what to be scared of next: whether the threat that man made was something to worry about, or the fact I now have the Detective’s daughter to deal with. I lower my gun and briefly crossed eyes with the girl still sitting among the heap of trash. My eyes widened at the emblem attached to her right breast pocket: a black-and-gold kite shield with a pine tree and cardinal bird flying over it in its center. At the bottom was a banner with the word “Leviticus” inscribed inside it. My old high school. How ironic for her to be attending the same school I was in. That might come in handy in the future.

I open my trench coat and tuck the pistol back into the holster before debating what to do next. Out of the silence, the girl suddenly spoke to me.

“T-Thank you...” the girl muttered.

“Don’t mention it,” I bluntly reply. I decided I wanted to end the night and just head home as usual. That little stunt I pulled earlier was surely going to attract attention sooner or later, so without hesitation I begin walking out of the alley. Hopefully the girl will take it as a chance encounter and not think too much into it.

“W-Wait!” she cried out. I stopped midway through my step upon her demand. Shuffling out of the trash heap and patting down her now-dirtied uniform, the girl then asked. “Why did you save me?”

I hesitated for a moment, putting together words that would sufficiently answer her question. But then a shadow of doubt hovered over me, wondering whether I should answer in the first place. Anything I say could be used against me if she goes back and tells her father about it. Better for me to keep it brief and leave out the details.

“I was just passing by. Don’t think too much of it.” That should be satisfying enough, and so continued walking.

“Hold up.”

What does she want now?

“W-What’s your name?” It seems like she’s just making up questions now... “I’d like to at least know the man who rescued me.”

“It’s Frank,” I say, though that’s not in the least my real name.

“Frank, huh? My name’s Julia. Julia Stromberg. Nice to meet you!” She raises her hand and smiles. Now she wants me to shake hands with her.

“Good night.” I promptly tell her and continue on. I’ve already overstayed my welcome, and I certainly didn’t want to waste anymore time with her nonsense. Unfortunately, she didn’t get the message. She immediately shouted for me to stop and ran right in front of me, spreading her arms wide and exhibiting a defiant face. She sure is persistent.

“What is it?” I calmly asked.

“What kind of response is that!?” she scolded. “You don’t just up and leave when someone’s offering to be your friend!”

“Friend?” I honestly can’t figure out what’s going on in that absurd head of hers.

“Of course! You saved me after all. You wouldn’t do that unless you were a good person.”

“Listen girl...” I explained.

“Julia,” she interrupted.

“Julia. I am in no way your “friend.” I’m just a random stranger who just happened to pass by and nothing else. Now if you excuse me, I’d like to get on my business now.”

I stepped to the side, only for Julia to step in my direction and block me again. I step to the other side and she does the same. This girl...

“There must be a reason you stopped to help me. A random stranger wouldn’t just up and risk his life for a random girl like that.” Her gaze turned toward my chest holster partially hidden from my open trench coat. “Why do you have a gun?”

...

Idiot! How could I’ve forgotten that? Out of everything, that should have been the most obvious reason why I should have never intervened: no civilian is allowed to carry firearms. Now she might actually put me at risk if I’m reported to the authorities. Do I silence her? Claim her as leverage? Evade her questions? Come up with a reasonable lie? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to save her after all...

“I...” I began to mutter, my mind conflicted on what to do next.

“You’re not one of those undercover cops Dad sent to watch out for me, are you?”

“...what?” Me? A cop?

“If you are, then please tell him to lay off. I don’t need his lackeys to protect me! I’m old enough to take care of myself!”

That’s definitely not what I saw earlier... she could hardly fend for herself. And that more-or-less explains why she’s out alone at night.

“You got the wrong idea, Julia. I’m not an officer, nor am I friends with your Dad,” I explain.

“Then why do you have a gun?” Julia asserted. “You’re not a hitman, by chance, are you?”

“No,” I bluntly answered.

“You said you were going to claim me as your prize earlier.”

“I lied.” Though that’s not to say I won’t take her as prey someday either.

“Then you’re seriously just some random stranger who just “happens” to pass by and rescue someone out of kindness?”

“End of story,” I finished. “Are we done here?”

“Not at all,” Julia replied. “I don’t believe anything you just said to me.”

“Believe all you want, I’ll be going now.” With that, I decide to turn and go the opposite direction, not that it mattered where I went, as long I get out of that girl’s sight.

“W-Wait a minute!” she cried out again. “You’re just going to leave me out here all alone!?”

“You said you can take care of yourself. So goodbye.” Already, I can hear footsteps trailing behind me.

“Why don’t you tag along with me...”

“Not interested.” This girl... I swear if she tries to follow me home, I’ll have my way with her.

For a brief moment, the footsteps behind me stopped. Maybe she’s given up now.

“I’ll tell Dad about you and your gun.”

...goddamnit. I stopped right as I heard those words. I knew she’d pop it up sooner or later...

“If you’re not a cop, then you must be a criminal. That’s the only way you could’ve gotten a gun. Now if you don’t want the police investigating you and pulling up whatever secrets you may have hidden, you should stop and do what I ask. Unless that’s what you want, of course!” I turn my head and see her grinning triumphantly with her arms crossed, as if she’s just won big.

She’s blackmailing me, and being cocky about it. I’m starting to hate this girl more and more... though I wouldn’t expect less from the daughter of a famous detective. My options have already run dry, and anything out-of-line will definitely cost me more than the trouble she’ll probably put me through. As much as I hate to admit it, I bit off more than I could chew with this one.

With a deep and frustrated sigh, I turn around and ask, “What do you want?”

“Just for you to accompany me until I get to where I need to.”

“Why don’t you call your dad’s lackeys for that?”

“I don’t like them in the least bit!” she huffed. “They’re always so clingy to me, and won’t leave me alone for even a second! I know it’s because Dad asked them to, and to make sure I don’t get into any trouble, but they’re just so annoying to deal with. It’s ruining my social life! You look like an alright guy though, and I don’t think you’re the type to be clingy like they are judging by the way you act...” Was that supposed to be a complement? “...so I was hoping you could just tag along for a bit and keep those creeps away for a little bit.”

“Didn’t you say I was a criminal earlier? I could shoot you whenever I want.”

“I don’t think you would,” Julia rebuttaled. “If you wanted to, you would’ve done so already, but you held back. I can tell, you know.” Oh, now she can read minds. What’s there that the damn detective didn’t teach to this kid?

“So you want me to just walk with you?”

“That’s right.”

“Is that all?”

“That’s all. And I promise I won’t bother you anymore after this.”

“Fine. I’ll walk with you. But once we get there, I’m leaving.”

“Then it’s settled!” she cheered, grasping her hands together. “Now we should probably get a move on. Don’t want to come home too late and worry Dad now!” It’s midnight right now. How much later can she possibly get?

“By the way Frank...” said Julia. “Why don’t you take off that mask of yours? You look kind of silly with that on.”

I was not amused in the slightest by her statement.

“I have my reasons.”

“You can take it off Frank. After all, we’re both friends now! And friends don’t hide things from each other.”

They do actually, and it’s usually the things they really don’t want anyone to know about. I should know.

In defiance, I kept the mask on and simply ignored her again.

“You’re not going to take off the mask?”

“No.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you take off the mask.”

...

One could say that getting roasted alive in a volcano would be an understatement to the levels of frustration boiling inside me. I bite my tongue and reluctantly pulled down the mask from my face, tilting my fedora down as I did so the girl wouldn’t get a full glimpse. I just need to get this night over with and then I can get back to my normal schedule.

Julia stood awestruck when she saw my fully-revealed face.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re younger than I thought you were...” she muttered.

“Were you expecting something else?”

“Kind of. I was maybe thinking you were a middle-aged man behind that gruntled voice of yours, but I guess you can never judge a book by it’s cover.”

“So, where is this place you have to go to?” Hopefully it isn't too far...

“Oh, it’s a house somewhere on Fifth Dunkan Avenue. I was sure it was around here somewhere...”

Goddamnit. That street’s on the other end of the ghettos. Not only is the girl totally helpless, but she’s managed to get herself lost too!

Not wanting to waste anymore time and energy putting up with this facade, I start my way off as Julia hopelessly looked around at street signs before realizing I was already moving.

“H-Hey, wait up!” she called.

Not that I would’ve known at the time, but the moment I accepted her little request was the moment everything seemed to go downhill for me from then on.

I should’ve left when I had the chance.
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

Offline Operative13

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #3 on: September 24, 2016, 09:24:24 AM »
Spoiler
“I can’t write...” Daniel said of himself. “...Not a single word comes to mind.”

All that stood before him was a blank sheet of paper, covered only by the pale light of his desk lamp. Daniel stared at that single sheet of paper for so long in the small corner of his dark room that his eyes grew wrinkled and weary, and the cushion of his chair began to flatten.

He tapped the back of his pencil atop the wooden table, gazing back-and-forth across his room for any motivation, any inspiration, any signs to get himself to write, but no matter what Daniel did, not a single word came to mind.

“Think, Daniel! Think!” he told himself. “You’ve written before! Why would this time be any different?”

Daniel stared at that blank piece of paper once more for some time before exhaling a deep breathe, laying down his pencil, and leaning back on his chair.

“Agh!” Daniel cried out in frustration.

He ran his fingers across the length of his hair and came down on his face, smoothing out the stretched lines that had developed on the skin of his face. Daniel looked up at the clock hanging just above his table, the clock’s second hand ticking away at the time. Three o’clock. Daniels turned to his left, where a calendar with red markings hung. All the dates leading up to the twenty-eighth were crossed out. A gigantic red circle surrounded the thirty-first day.

“Three more days...” he moaned. “And not a single word written...”

He leaned up and stared at the blank ceiling above.

“This isn’t like me at all... normally I’d be able to write page-after-page nonstop for any story I come with. But now... nothing. This isn’t anything like the man who won Best Short-Story Writer for five straight years! Maybe it’s because this is the first time I’ve ever written a full-length novel. Maybe my anxiety is getting to me. Maybe I need a break...”

Daniel shut his eyes for a brief moment, before the ticking of the second hand awoke him.

“No, no, no!” he cried out. “I don’t have time to rest! I have a deadline to meet in three days! I haven’t written a single word for weeks! And I promised the publisher I’d come up with something that’d blow their minds! Wasn’t it my dream to get my very own novel anyway?”

He chuckled to himself.

“That’s right... I wanted this. I wanted to become a full-fledged writer. This is what all my years of hard work has led me to. There’s no way I’d doubt myself now, would I? Get it together, Daniel...”

Daniel slapped both of his cheeks to stave off the fatigue. He straightened his seat, positioned himself firmly within reach of the paper and placed the tip of the pencil firmly onto the sheet.

“...you can do this. You’ve written plenty of stories before. A novel shouldn’t be any different... now think!”

For a few minutes, Daniel’s mind withered and contorted, filling with ideas as he pieced together a suitable plot.

“Once upon a time...” Daniel began to write. “...lived a boy and a girl.”

Daniel set the pencil down, and stared at the single sentence he wrote. Blankly, he stared, not inching a muscle as the second hand ticked above.

Immediately, Daniel grabbed the sheet of paper, rolled and squished it into a tight ball, then tossed it into the metal bin full of other crumpled balls of paper next to his desk.

“Too typical!” Daniel cried out. He stood up from his desk and strolled around the room, contemplating more ideas to himself.

 “It needs to be invigorating! It needs to be inspirational! It needs to be artistic and filled with meaning! It needs to be... Unique!” the writer boldly declared. “That’s what I should send to the publishers! Something unique!”

A heavy weight appeared to lift off Daniel’s chest as he said those words, a wave of excitement flooding his body as he thought of the praise and commendation he would receive from his very first novel. He believed that to be his future, his reality, his Destiny. All that was needed was a little... push.

“Yes... I can do this. I can make the deadline!”

But just as Daniel went to seat himself back down on his desk, the gleaming clock watching overhead shocked him back into the hard truth that stood before him: Four O’Clock. Just as the flood of Promise exhilarated his emotions, the wave of Dread easily drained Daniel’s spirit. Fatigue came rushing into his body, his eyes drooped and back lurched, as a voracious yawn blew out from his lungs.

“No... I can’t think anymore...” Daniel told himself. “...I need to rest... get ready for the next day...”

He yawned once more, and approached the edge of his bed.

“...I’ll think of something by tomorrow... hopefully I can write enough to get it past the publishers...”

Daniel unfurrowed the bedsheets and dug himself deep into the comforts of the soft fabric that caressed his whole being, lulling him into sleep.

“...tomorrow... I’ll write that novel...”
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

Offline legomaestro

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #4 on: September 24, 2016, 09:59:45 PM »
Man, couldn't the doctor have operated on her with sedatives? For a spinal injury especially... Yikes. That was a grisly scene, so props on the descriptive language there, even though I have chills down my spine now.

I'll get to the other two excerpts when I can.

Offline Operative13

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2016, 11:18:51 PM »
Of course, sedatives always come to mind when dealing with the mortally-injured, but in her case, sedatives are a no-no when there's been a great deal of blood loss. You slow the heart down too much and the patient's more likely to die from cardiac arrest.

Now we, in our modern society, are fortunate we can receive sedatives despite copious amounts of blood loss thanks to something called "Blood Transfusion." That way, surgeons can operate on you in peace.  ;) Unfortunately for Isabelle, there isn't a lot of that to go around, with a war going on and all...  :sure: She'll just have to bite the towel for now.
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #6 on: October 03, 2016, 05:43:06 AM »
Operative, these stories are epic! I just want more of them! seriously dude this stuff is like crack for me. I'm a huge late 19th Century, early 20th century warfare nerd. The descriptive writing, especially in the surgery scene my spine felt like it caught frostbite from the chills. Without fail keep posting stuff on here! I'm actually writing a story set in a similar world, so if you ever want to trade ideas I'm always open.  ;D

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #7 on: October 03, 2016, 06:55:16 AM »
Operative, these stories are epic! I just want more of them! seriously dude this stuff is like crack for me. I'm a huge late 19th Century, early 20th century warfare nerd. The descriptive writing, especially in the surgery scene my spine felt like it caught frostbite from the chills. Without fail keep posting stuff on here! I'm actually writing a story set in a similar world, so if you ever want to trade ideas I'm always open.  ;D

Of course, Fortis! I'm always open to discuss such settings  ;) I only wish I could write more like these but life sometimes gets the better of you and you only end up doing a fraction of what you wanted...  :sure: I just need the right motivation to duke it out every few hours or so  :ninja:
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #8 on: October 03, 2016, 06:56:26 AM »
A Desperate Defense
“Daina...”

That voice...

“Daina...!”

...calling my name...

“DAINA! Snap out of it!”

Daina immediately opened her eyes to the sight of Baron with a worried look in his face. Isabelle was there too. The sound of gunshots crackling through the air awoke Daina from her dreamy state.

“Left Side! They’re moving in!” Hughes shouted before firing another round at the approaching Hadians.

“It’s just a fleshwound, you’re gonna be alright,” Evans told Trent as he patched the bloody cut on Trent’s arm.

“Just my day...” Trent moaned, the ricochet of bullets battering the large boulder they hid behind.

“Daina’s okay!” Isabelle yelled out to the others.

“About time!” Franc hollered back, just before he shot down a soldier dashing for cover.

“Sarge, I don’t think we’ll hold here much longer!” Connor shrieked.

“For the last time, Connor, stop your whining and shoot back, damn you!” Franc snapped.

“I swear, when I get out of these cuffs, you’ll all regret ever crossing face with me!” the Hadian officer with Hughes sneered.

“Hughes... if that guy opens his mouth one more time, knock one of his front teeth out, will you?” Franc poised.

“Glady!” Hughes replied.

The officer grumbled and obediently sat still.

“I’ll go help the others,” Isabelle said. Baron nodded in acknowledgement before Isabelle grabbed her rifle and dashed for Trent and Evan’s position.

“Can you move?” Baron asked.

“...what happened?” Daina muttered.

“That blast got you a pretty good back there... You okay?”

Daina nodded.

“Good. Now grab your rifle and help us out! Those govvies don’t seem like giving up anytime soon!”

“Guys, we got Shock Troopers, incoming!” Connor yelled out. Men with thick plate armor and submachine-guns emerged from the brushes down below.

“They really want this guy, don’t they?” Hughes remarked.

“He’s more important than you think he is,” Franc replied.

Isabelle fired her last shot at one of the shock troopers, bouncing off the man’s shoulder-plate.

“Reloading!” she called out as she pulled the bolt back and reached for the ammo box behind her belt.

Daina rushed toward Isabelle’s side and promptly took aim at the shock trooper again. With a quick pull of the trigger, Daina downed the man in one clean shot before taking cover from return fire by the other shock troopers.

“W-Why are we still here!?” Connor nervously exclaimed. “We shouldn’t be fighting these guys!”

“Franc!” Isabelle shouted.

“Just a little longer! Trust me!” Franc replied, popping another shot at a Hadian dashing for cover, only to barely miss and hit a trunk instead.

A low thud hit the ground near the Hadian officer. He peered from the corner of his eyes to the sight of a grenade sitting next to him. He jumped and hastily grabbed the grenade with his cuffed hands and tossed it as best he could at the other direction.

“Hey, douchebag! Pay attention to your surround..” the Hadian officer cursed before Hughes whacked the officer’s face with the butt of his rifle.

“Keep your mouth shut!” Hughes ordered.

Connor was in the midst of loading another stripper clip into his rifle when Daina hollered.

“Look out!”

Connor turned to his right to see a Hadian soldier with his sights trained at him. He eyes grew wide and immediately ducked behind his rock just as the soldier fired his weapon, narrowly escaping his demise. Daina peered out from behind her cover and shot back at the Hadian, barely missing his head. The Hadian rolled back behind his tree and bolted his rifle.

“Damn it!” Daina cursed, loading another round into her rifle and keeping her sights trained at the Hadian threatening Connor’s flank. “Connor! Come to us! I got you covered!”

Connor peered over the crest of his boulder, only to receive a barrage of bullets soon after. A grim frown stretched across his face and Connor hastily shook his head.

“Isabelle, help me get Connor out!” Daina shouted over her shoulder.

“What!?” Isabelle shouted over her shoulder amidst the loud gunfire as she cycled her bolt.

“Help me get...” Daina stopped and fired again at the Hadian trying to peer around the tree trunk, barely scraping the bark off. “...Connor out! He’s stuck behind that rock!”

Isabelle pulled her head back down and turned toward Daina, who gestured over to Connor cowering behind his cover, holding his cap down with both hands for dear life as bullets flew left-and-right.

“Aaaaah!” Connor screamed. “Please, for the love of God, get me the hell outta here!”

“Hang tight Connor! We’ll get to you as soon as we can!” Isabelle assured.

“Soon isn’t soon enough!” Connor wailed.

“Don’t worry about us,” Evan implored. “We can hold here without you.”

“We’ll leave it to you two, then” Daina nodded.

“Can you fight with that arm?” Isabelle asked Trent.

“Nothing but a flesh wound!” Trent boasted. “To what I’ve been through, this is nothing!”

“Let’s all make it out of here alive,” declared Isabelle. They all smiled and nodded.

“Ready?” Daina asked.

She and Isabelle made ready to sprint over to Connor as Trent and Evan slowly crept up from their cover, prepared to give covering fire at a moment’s notice. With one final nod, everyone set into motion.

In an instant, Trent and Evan drew their rifles out from cover and blasted away at whatever shining helmet they could get their sights on, alternating their shots as the other cycled his next cartridge in. Casing after casing flew out of their rifles’ chambers, cluttering the ground around them. In the brief moment Trent and Evan gave, Daina and Isabelle rushed out in the open for Connor. Daina wasted no time heading straight towards Connor, bullets whizzing dangerously by as her figure crested atop the ridgeline. When she came within distance of Connor’s boulder, she slid and drifted on the loose, dry soil straight into Connor and clung onto the rock to keep her from falling downhill.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Connor sighed with relief.

“Can’t you pick a better spot to shoot from, next time?” Daina complained. “Now we’re both stuck here.”

“Hey, they told me to cover right, so I did just that!” Connor asserted.

“What good you did, alright...” Daina mocked.

“You do have a plan, don’t you?”

“I’ll think of something...” Daina glanced over the rock to where the flanking Hadian was last seen, only to see the glint of his ironsights reflecting off the edge of the tree. Daina pulled back just as the bullet grazed the rock.

Isabelle, meanwhile, stayed further out to the right to the more sloped area of the hill. She kept her body low and her boots dug hard into the dirt to keep herself from tumbling downhill, and inched her way to a small log large enough to hide most of her body from harm. The girl slowly slid herself behind the log and peered out between the branches to the sight of the Hadian soldier firing at Daina and Connor just up ahead. Isabelle had a clear sight of him between the woods, so she placed her rifle atop the log and took aim.

Just as she was about to pull the trigger, Isabelle caught sight of two more Hadian soldiers moving along the trees to her right. Bullets suddenly began whizzing past Isabelle in two directions as she desperately hugged the log, trying not to get shot.

“Daina!” she screamed. “There’s more on this side!”

Daina looked behind her to see Isabelle’s blue cap barely visible from the log she was behind. From her position, Daina could clearly make out four distinct figures standing among the brush, all of them directed at Isabelle. One of the figures began creeping up the hill towards Isabelle’s position. Leaning against the boulder, Daina pointed her rifle and blasted. The shot went clean through the soldier’s neck, as he immediately dropped his rifle and clutched his bleeding neck with both hands, rolling down the hill as he did. Isabelle was safe for now, but the three other Hadians now gave their attention to Daina and began firing back. With such a small space to hide in, Daina scooted into Connor and squeezed herself into his chest.

“Hey, what gives...”

“Shut up!” Daina hissed. Connor soon got the message as the bullets began flying in the other direction. He huddled his head as close to the ground as he could.

Isabelle took advantage of Daina’s momentary distraction to fire two more shots at the Hadian troops. The first one landed its mark, as the soldier grabbed his chest and fell face-first into the dirt. The second was rushed and missed the other soldier completely.

“Take care of that one!” One of the soldiers shouted. “I got the other!”

“Franc, our right side’s gone!” Daina hollered. “We need backup over here”!

“The right side’s...?” Franc began to repeat, before he was interrupted by a hail of bullets bashing his cover.

“I’ll go help them out!” Baron announced, before taking off from his spot.

“Don’t let them get behind us, you hear!?” Franc hollered as Baron darted his way over. “Where in the hell are they...?”

Baron zigzagged his way through the open, rushing as fast as he could to the collapsed flank. Though bullets rang past his ears and peppered the ground before him, Baron ran through it all in hopes of reaching his stranded allies in time.

Things, however, were looking bleak for the entrapped levies. More government troops began circling around the right with the knowledge that their own comrades had taken the slope. Trent and Evan had turned their attention towards Daina’s and Isabelle’s position, frantically lobbing shot-after-shot in an attempt to keep the Hadians off the ridge and out of sight from their pinned friends. With little guns left shooting back at the shock troopers in front, they too began inching their way up the hill.

Isabelle rolled her body as tightly as she could behind the meagre safety of the log, her ears pressed to the ground as the heavy boots of the Hadian soldier crushed the brittle dirt with every step he took, inching closer and closer to her. Daina could no longer protect her, occupied with her own troubles now, and no one else seemed to be out to rescue her.

As the Hadian slowly pressed up toward to the side of the log, his rifle up, ready to fire the moment he had sights, the log suddenly began to roll downhill.

*BANG*

Startled, the soldier fired and missed Isabelle just by an inch.

“*censored*!” he cursed.

“Look out!” Another soldier cried out as the log came tumbling in their direction. They threw themselves out of the log’s way as it smashed into the trunks down below and spun viciously into the woods, thick chunks of splinters flying about. One unfortunate soldier got clipped by the rolling log, shattering his arm.

“Medic!” Yet another soldier screamed out.

The Hadian struggled to pull back his bolt after his wasted shot, as Isabelle suddenly tossed her rifle at the man. Surprised by the sudden move, the Hadian stumbled back as the rifle smacked him, though it wasn’t enough to deter him. He had loaded the next round into the chamber and aimed his rifle down at Isabelle when she went and tackled him just as he pulled the trigger, taking them both rolling down the hill.

“Isabelle!” Baron called, just as he arrived to witness Isabelle rolling down the hill. He moved to save her, but then the shots came straight for him. He was out in the open.

“Damn it!” Baron swore. He took aim and shot a round back at the handful of Hadians clustered at the edge of the slope to no avail. They returned fire, with a few whizzing past and a few more hitting the dirt around him, until one of them landed a loud thump into Baron’s chest. He shouted and fell flat on his back.

“Baron!” Daina yelled, watching as Baron laid there, his hand gripping his chest as more bullets peppered the ground around him. Daina drew her rifle over the boulder and fired at the encroaching Hadians before drawing back as the first shots sprayed her position yet again.

“We’re dead! We’re all dead, I tell ya!” Connor panicked. “We’re never getting out of this alive!”

“Oh, for crying out loud Connor, get your act together and help me!” Daina berated.

Connor whimpered and haphazardly stuck his rifle out the corner, blindly firing amid the smoke and muzzle flashes.

“We have to fall back!” Hughes urged. “There’s too many of them!”

“We’re running out of ammo here!” Trent hollered as he pulled another stripper clip out of his ammo box.

“Franc! We’re sitting ducks out here!” Evan yelled.

“I know! I know!” screamed Franc.

Meanwhile, Isabelle and the Hadian soldier came to a complete stop at the bottom of the hill when they smashed their bodies into a thick trunk, tossing them about. The two laid flat on the ground, groaning from the excruciating impact. Isabelle gripped her side, a sharp pain searing through her side. Though there was no blood, every gasping breath she made stung like deep spikes jabbing into her. She gazed ahead toward the Hadian soldier, who placed his hands upon the ground and began lifting himself up. Isabelle began raising herself up as well, but the pain surged throughout her body. Isabelle had to get up, or she would surely be killed by that man.

The Hadian soldier stumbled upon his feet, and as he stood and turned back towards the girl in the blue coat, he reach for the holster and drew out his pistol. As the man did so, a large bayonet suddenly flew right at him, cutting his fingers.

“Aaagh!” he screamed, gripping his bloody hand as the pistol fell to the ground. He looked up to see the golden-haired girl on her feet, struggling to stand as she tightly gripped the side of her torso. Rage seethed through the soldier’s eyes, and in a raucous cry, charged head-on towards the girl.

Isabelle tried to brace herself as the large man flung himself towards her, but the pain kept her from moving fast enough. The man tackled straight back down to the ground and placed his body atop her thin chest. A slight crack startled Isabelle. Her ribcage had broken, and the ear-splitting screams she let out as it did could only express the unimaginable agony that riddled her body. She was going to be killed. That was the only thought left in Isabelle’s mind.

She grabbed and clawed at the man’s face, flailing, kicking, and screaming, anything to get the man off her. But his weight was too much for Isabelle, and what strength she had left was all but drained by her injuries. The man wrapped both hands around Isabelle’s throat and began squeezing, choking the air out of her as the blood from the man’s cut hand drenched all around. She only kicked and flailed more desperately, her life flashing before her eyes.

“Die, you little bitch!” the man spat, with his grinding teeth and bloodthirsty eyes.

Isabelle grabbed for the man’s wrists and tried to pull them off, to no avail. She pushed at his chin and glared at his ravenous eyes, to no avail. The man had no intent of backing off. She could only watch as the few gasps of breath she had leave her body.

Just as Isabelle’s eyes began to close, a hail of gunfire spouted nearby. The soldier suddenly lifted his hands off Isabelle’s neck, causing Isabelle to choke and cough violently as a surge of fresh air entered her lungs. She gazed back up to the Hadian soldier to see his chest riddled with bullet wounds, dying his forest-green uniform red as his mouth seethed with red. He then tumbled off Isabelle’s chest and fell flat next to her.

Thunderous roars resounded throughout the forest as a fury of bullets rattled across the area, striking the Hadian troops from every direction. The Hadians, scattered and confused, sought shelter behind the trees, only to get mowed down in yet another unexpected direction. No longer were they concerned with the partisans hunkered down atop the hill, but the unseen enemy that appeared to have surround them instead. They shot back in whatever direction the shots came from to no effect, until at last, the enemy emerged out of the foliage around them and charged at the Hadians in droves.

“It’s the Militia!” Evan called out. Men in uniformed, navy-blue coats and military caps, with their fancy buttons, shining leather boots, and sleek submachine-guns, stampeded down the hill, guns blazing at the Hadian troops too shocked and helpless against the sudden swarm of opponents. Their front line had completely collapsed as the Militia washed through their ranks, coming to within arm’s reach with the troops before unloading a swathe of bullets into the Hadians’ bodies.

“Retreat! Retreat!” An officer ordered. “Fall back!”

A handful of militia gave chase to the withdrawing government forces whilst the rest stayed behind and cheered at their quick and decisive victory. However, the celebration was cut short, as they now had to tend to their wounded comrades that held the hill.

“We thought you’d never come...” Franc sighed in relief as he shook hands with the militia commander.

“And I thought we’d never make it,” the commander shook back.

Evan and Trent helped themselves to canteens full of water, Evan gulping it down whilst Trent poured what’s left of his onto his face as other medics properly dressed his wound. Hughes grabbed the captured officers by the collar and shoved him away towards the militiamen who led the officer away. The officer gazed over his shoulder, scorn in his face while Hughes smirked with patronizing eyes.

“We’re saved!” Connor jumped. “We’re saved! I never thought I’d be so glad to be alive!” He bearhugged one of the female militia, much to the woman’s distaste as the militiamen around them bursted out in laughter.

Daina immediately ran towards the downed Baron, who was watched over by two militias as one of them began lifting his unmoving body over his shoulder.

“Baron!” she cried out. Daina slid and fell to her knees as she placed her dirtied palms on Baron’s face and lifted it up evenly to hers. Daina’s eyes darted up-and-down across the man’s body, searching for any signs of life in him. “Baron...”

A sudden wheeze spurred Baron back, followed by raspy coughs.

“Baron!” Daina cried.

“...am I dying yet?” Baron asked, his eyelids barely open.

“No... far from that.” Daina wrapped her arms around his neck and gave a warm hug.

“Agh!” he yelped.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I think I did get hit...”

Daina looked down to see Baron grasping his side, but there wasn’t any blood to be found. She reached inside Baron’s coat to where he held his hand to find a soft, boxy object. Daina pulled it out.

“Your diary...” Daina muttered. Upon closer examination, her eyes lit up as there was an extremely deep pit drilled into the thick pages. She flipped it behind to see the bullet that shot Baron had barely exited the back, it’s sharp end poking out just by a tiny margin. “...it saved your life.”

“I guess it did,” Baron concurred.

She began to turn the diary’s front cover.

Baron’s eyes suddenly shot wide open. In an instant he snatched the diary out from Daina’s hand and kept it close to him, a deathly glare pointed at her. He then immediately dropped his expression after realizing what he had done.

“I’m sorry...” he apologized.

“...it’s okay. I wasn’t supposed to look at it anyway,” Daina said.

The marching of boots and shouting of orders reverberated around them.

“In another time perhaps... when everything’s said and done,” Baron spoke up. “But not now.”

“Not until this war is over,” Daina continued. “But until then...” She suddenly smiled. “...you write as much as you can in that diary.”

Baron smiled back. “Though... I might need to find another diary to write in.” He waved the diary in his hand, the black bullet hole drilled deep through its cover.

Daina let out a mild giggle. “Wait, where’s Isabelle?” She suddenly asked.

“Isabe...” Baron’s cheerful mood sank into fear. “She... fell down the slope. I don’t know if she...”

Both their attentions reeled toward the group of militias crowded around a stretcher. A glint of golden hair could be seen from afar.

“Isabelle!” Daina yelled.

Baron tried to lift himself up, only to groan and fall back, the two militiamen behind him catching his back. Daina opened Baron’s shirt to find a solid purple patch behind his skin, where his diary was kept.

“You’re bruising,” told Daina.

“I have to... Agh!” Baron cried out once more as he tried lifting himself again.

“Don’t strain yourself!” she worried.

“We’ll tend to his injuries, madam,” one of the militiamen assured.

“Thank you,” Daina gratefully replied.

“Give my words to Isabelle for me, Daina,” told Baron.

“I will. Take care of yourself now.”

With that, Baron was lifted up on his arms by the two militiamen as they carried him off whilst Daina sprinted off downhill to the clutter of men around the stretcher.

“Isabelle!” She called out, her shoes skidding down the hill, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind her. Eyes turned as she furrowed her way through the crowd, until Daina reached a small opening where the stretcher sat on the forest floor. A weak and battered Isabelle laid upon the stretcher, sweat pouring down her brows as the medics grabbed both ends of the stretcher and lifted up.

“Is she alright!?” Daina asked.

“She’s not looking pretty good,” one of the medics answered. “She’s got internal bleeding and a broken ribcage in several spots. We need to get her to a proper medical station soon.”

“Will she make it?”

“If she holds on ’till we get there, she’ll have a chance. Right now, she’s giving it all she can to do just that.”

Isabelle badly shook in her stretcher, her face moist and teeth clenched as she struggled to keep the pain at bay.

“Isabelle...” Daina pulled Isabelle’s long hair away from her face.

“Hey...” Isabelle barely uttered.

“Hey...” Daina uttered back.

“We made it...” Isabelle’s body was so weak she could barely open her eyes.

“We did...”

“Daina... I...”

“Don’t talk. Save your energy when you get back. Everyone’s worried.”

“It hurts...”

“Just bear with it for awhile, okay? You’ll make it through this.”

“We have to go,” the medic said.

Daina nodded.

“Everyone out of the way!” Another medic called, before the four pushed their way through the crowd. Daina watched as they climbed the ridge up past the resting militia.

“You did a fine job capturing that officer, Watchman,” the militia commander complemented Franc. “With his knowledge, we’re one step closer to bringing this war to an end.”

“I only hope it was worth the sacrifice we’ve made today...” told Franc. “Make sure my people are well taken care of.”

“We’ll see through to that. Don’t you worry,” the commander assured as he took ahold of a cigarette and lighter and held it between his lips.

“So... what’s Command up to now? Have they been calling out the reserves?”

The commander lit the cigarette and inhaled, a small burn fizzling through the end. He then took the cigarette out from his mouth and blew a puff of smoke out into the air.

“They’re plotting something big in the upcoming months. Something that’ll strike a chord with the people when the election cycle hits. Right now, the Government’s got a sizable budget for the military, but that’s only because the NPP’s been winning elections left-and-right ever since the war’s started, touting their victories and promising to bring our cause to an end. But the people are getting tired. It’s been over a decade now, and we’re still around.”

“Command wants to ruin their streak, then.”

“That’s the idea. The DPP’s been gaining ground since we’ve gotten relatively quiet for the past few years, and thus far they’ve shown promises of compromise. They want to downsize the military and end drafting.”

“You really think they’ll pull through with that?”

“Who knows? But there’s hints that Command’s willing to support the DPP if they side with the Union. If they do...”

“...there’s still a chance they might turn around and stab us in the back.” Franc doubted.

“It’s sketchy, but that’s what everyone’s been talking about lately. If it means we all get to go home in peace, by all means we’ll do it. Until then, we’ll have to wait and see what comes next.”

The last bit of the cigarette burned out as the commander took the butt and stomped it underneath his boots before turning and walking away.

“Thanks for your help here,” Franc nodded.

“Don’t mention it,” the commander humbly replied. He stopped midway and turned. “By the way, you won’t be going back to your hideout anymore... You’ll be fighting on the frontlines with us from now on!”

“...what?” Franc blinked.

“Command’s calling out the reserves! That includes your unit.”

“But I haven’t received any such order!”

“I look forward to seeing you all again... Watchman.” The commander waved before departing.
“To give of oneself is the noblest of all acts.”

Offline AzimuthComics

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #9 on: October 03, 2016, 07:22:01 AM »
It reads pretty mechanically, with "x did this" and then "y did that". There's also way too many adverbs in the dialogue, "said" is fine.

"Power attained by violence is only a usurpation, and only lasts so long as the strength of the commander outweighs that of the subjugated."

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #10 on: October 03, 2016, 07:37:29 PM »
Pretty intense writing, if I say so myself. Hadians don't seem to mess around in combat. Didn't this conflict end in some sort of bitter stalemate after peace negotiations were concluded? If I remember correctly, this was a pretty lengthy war, so I'm sure compulsory service kicked into high gear for the belligerents.

Spoiler
I think it would be cool to write a short story about a reporter covering on the field covering this or another conflict, with his notes and entries being the driving force of the narrative. That idea kind of popped into my head as I read this, but I figured I'd share that possibility instead of just taking it for myself.

I'm not sure if that kind of journalism exists in this world or not, but it might be cool

 

Offline Operative13

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #11 on: October 04, 2016, 02:14:58 AM »
I do happen to have one character who fits your description, though Wilfred of the Kondorian World Trek is more about writing articles on the ongoing conflict between Kondor and Sardania than he is mauling over a decades-long civil war in Hadia. In all consideration, I might toy with the idea of having another reporter cover the events in Hadia as well...  :-\ but that all depends whether I have the time to make the Chelderan universe as dense as it already is.  :D

If you're taking about a conflict with a bitter stalemate, perhaps you are referring to the 2nd Geioic War that took place earlier, between the island nations of Saint Else and Mariana. That war became so drawn out thanks to the constant stream of aid from each side's respective allies that it became virtually impossible to break through the so-called Fortress Islands, which had been fortified to such extreme extent that any marine assault was guaranteed a crushing blow to manpower. I'll divulge over that a later time...

Speaking of which, maybe I could include some lore on this thread in the near future...  :-\ It'd be great to learn some history behind the stories I craft.  ;)
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Online OhGodHelpMe

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #12 on: October 10, 2016, 04:22:54 AM »
Call me a madman, but Op, would you happen to have any battles, operations, meetings, or conflicts you haven't written about? Because if so, I would like to try my hand at writing one!  :ninja:


I'm not sure if I'm quite as elaborate when it comes to tactics, but I've written a few battles in my own expansive universe so I thought, hey, why not give this one a try too? You can throw me a scenario or have me make one up that fits in the universe

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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #13 on: October 10, 2016, 05:08:41 AM »
Now which universe would you be speaking of? Yours or mine?  ;)
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Re: Excerpts from Op's Writing Trove
« Reply #14 on: October 10, 2016, 05:18:10 AM »
I was thinking yours, but any way fits