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Rosten    913

I wrote this a couple of seconds ago to pass the time, it's unproofred and It may not even be all that good, but here it is

 

A Red Spy Is In The Base.

 

 As the... thing, passed by him, it stopped to glare at him for a second, as if it were doing a couple of mind

tests to determine whether he was supposed to be here or not, it was hard to tell though. With that mask on, reading its expression was all but impossible for everyone except for one stubborn Texan. After its inspection, the thing yelled a muffled sound of approvement and walked off to find something else to mess with.
 
He had passed the test, he hadn't known whether or not he would mistake it for one of her own, but he had to take the risk, there was no way that they were going to get the better of him. Thank god he had passed though, for the fate that would have awaited him would have been far worse then anything he could've imagined if he had failed, and it had decided to unleash its fury upon him, stories of people coming back with charred bodies, the skin practically falling off their bones came to him, people coming to the doctor wishing for death. But it only came to them in the form of a slow, painful demise at the hands of this thing.
 
No need to think of that now though, it was unconcerned with him as it went to inspect the rest of its crew members and he had a free pass through the rest of the area. As he milled about the place, he noticed something, the people around him seemed to be identical to his co-workers back where he worked, almost exactly the same, the tinkerer Texan, the cocky Bostonian, the drunk Scot, they were all there, except wearing a different color then the one's he knew as friends. As there was nothing else of interest, he was considering leaving without any further inspection or risk of being detected. Then he noticed something, a puff of smoke in the distance, and then someone wearing his colors walking around here. Before the smoke though, he caught a brief glimpse of the figure. An identical copy of himself. except now he was wearing the moniker of a abnormally colored (atleast around all these people) bushman. As he was exiting the base, he muttered something into his earpiece. "The red sniper's a spy."
 
Edit - Damn auto-correct.
Edited by Blazingice26
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Rosten    913

And here's the second, much longer part of chapter 2, enjoy, feedback is not only appreciated, but encouraged

Sakerarenai

------

Chapter 2 -

Part 2 -

You'd better find something to eat before night comes!

 

As I walked I performed countless reality checks. Trying to move my hand through solid objects, willing things to appear out of thin air, attempting to fly, etc. Finally convinced that I was indeed, awake, I started to become more aware of my surroundings, after a couple minutes of walking a noticed a change in scenery, the area around me became more grassy, and a bit more bright than before. A couple minutes more, and I stumbled across a field of berry bushes. Assuming they were safe to eat I started to harvest them, however, as soon as I finished picking the third one clean I heard a small "gobble gobble!" noise, looked up and saw a horrible abomination above me. The thing shared a distinct similarity between this creature and the birds I would hunt in the autumn season to bring in to eat during a Christian holiday known as Thanksgiving. But this thing was no simple-minded bird, it was almost eight feet tall and stood on two legs, it stared down at me, furious at how I had just harvested his favourite berry bush, the horrible, bloodthirsty beast towered over me. I closed my eyes, and braced myself for the sensation of it lunging at me, ripping and tearing at my insides to get to the tasty centre, I stood there for a minute, two, and it never came. Slowly and cautiously I opened my eyes to see the beast running over to another berry bush to pick it clean.

 
My fear quickly turned to anger, here was this simple-minded bird stealing the only thing I had for sustenance, I needed to get rid of it. I charged at the beast, screaming and yelling profanities at the top of my lungs that would've made a man much larger than me cower in fear. Dignified, Gentleman-like? No, Effective? very. The beast, spooked by this sudden challenger with the audacity to attack him, he ran with his tail between his legs faster then Usain Bolt to the nearest empty berry bush. It wouldn't mess with him now, for a time, but it would return, I would need a more ... permanent, solution.
Edited by Blazingice26
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Rosten    913

Why is no-one replying? is my writing really that bad?

hmm.

Anyways, i might post another random story later tonight.

Edited by Blazingice26

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Rosten    913

Heeerrreeee comes the final part of chapter 2, 

Sakerarenai

------

Chapter 2

Part 3

To Kill A Gobbler

I've spent the last couple of hours pondering on how I would slay such a terrifying beast, after watching, and thinking about it's behaviors I've come to notice it has a fond liking for the berries growing on these bushes, and will stop and ignore everything else around it if one catches his eye, so I've come up with a plan to exploit this weakness in their genetical programming.
Step 1. Pick Berries, Should be simple enough, just find an unharvested berry bush and harvest it
Step 2. Find the gobbler, again, not to hard, as the beast seems to love these things, and hangs around here quite often in search of them
Step 3. Scatter the berries on the ground, and jump into a Berry bush
Step 4. Await my prey
As i lie in wait for the creature to appear, I took the time to fasten a makeshift ax together I can use as a weapon by tying a piece of flint I found lying around to a twig with a piece of long grass. It took its sweet time appearing to say the least, but finally the animal came into my field of view, and I instantly became much more alert, my hands tightening around my weapon.
As the beast stooped down to pick up the berries I snuck up behind it and as soon as it had grabbed the berries off the ground I leaped onto its back and started to hack at it with my ax. Finally noticing that it had a enemy latched onto its back cutting it up, the thing started to run around and slam into things like a bull in a china shop, it was a wonder I was able to hold on. Eventually as I stood on its back holding on for dear life it eventually tired itself out, and fell to the floor. Not wishing to make the beast suffer anymore then it had to at this point, I finished it off with a clean decapitation with my ax and its dead body lay there, still, unnerving, Dead.
Once the kill had been executed, I began to contemplate what to do with the body, there weren't to many options
1. Leave it, Hell no!, that thing would be rotting and would draw everything within a mile away to MY berry grounds... my berries seem to have run out.
2. Dispose of it? But how, there was no-way I could just throw  it in the ocean, it was much to heavy for that, my mind drifted off to food again.
That left only one option, clean the kill and get whatever meat off of it I could.
Considering I never was the hunter type, I had never actually tried cleaning and skinning an animal before, so after i had gotten all the feathers off of it. What I did basically boiled down to me hacking at parts that looked mildly edible, by the time I had mangled the body to no return I had accumulated 2 or 3 morsels of food and a couple of drumsticks.
The fight, and cleaning the bird had left me exhausted, noticing it was almost night, about 2 or 3 hours time and it would be pitch-black darkness. I began to cut down a few trees to harvest some wood for a fire.
After I had collected enough wood and grass I laid it all out and assembled the necessary structure for a fire, and after a while I managed to get a small blaze up using the flint from my ax and another I found on the ground. Using a small stick I found on the ground as a skewer I speared the bits of chicken (Well, it came off something that looked like a turkey, so it's chicken to me!) and cooked it over the fire. Finally having finished cooking my spoils I took the skewer off the makeshift spit and nibbled a bit on the chicken while staring deep into the fire.
"Nice, warm fire... reminds me willow"" my little niece always had a certain ... affinity, for fire, so much that I had to create a small machine that would make it for her so she wouldn't use up all of my and her parents matches, Haha, I miss her a lot now, maybe I'll see her again one day, willow.
As i drifted off to sleep I kept that pleasant thought in my head, "Willow....willow....." The sudden realization hit me harder then a locomotive going 150mph.
WILLOW!
Edited by Blazingice26
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Rosten    913

Finally! Chapter 3 is upon us, took me long enough, anyways I hope you enjoy it, feedback, good or bad, is always appreciated.

------------------------------------

Sakerarenai

------

Chapter 3 -

Part 1 -

The Grue

 

Willow! Darn* it, Of course! i knew i had forgotten something. But how could i have forgotten about my niece?... The last of my kin that wants, or is sane enough, to have anything to do with me. it isn't a question of whether or not to find her... No, no, i HAD to find her, the only question was how i would find her, and where she would be... Since my eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness  i attempted to venture out from the ring of light my campfire provided. However, as soon as i stepped out of the light, i felt a cold chill run down my neck and suddenly everything except for the area around my campfire turned completely pitch black, as if whatever was in my eyes that were letting me see in the dark had completely shut-off. After a few seconds of standing in the darkness i heard a growl.

 

"What was that!?" i said aloud.
 
Another few seconds....
 
"OWCH!, SOMETHING BIT ME!" i screamed as i felt a sharp pain on my arm.
 
Fully convinced that the darkness wasn't nearly as safe as i had presumed i turned tail and sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me back towards the safety of my campfire. The closer i got to my fire the better my vision got, i quickly looked behind my back to see if my attacker had pursued me. Nothing, there was nothing following me, maybe the creature could only attack in pure darkness? This place is pretty weird...
Once i was finally back to the camp fire and convinced the night-monster... the... the Grue, wasn't going to follow me into the light. i sat down to assess the damage it had done. After having searched my body for any signs of damage all i found were 3 long, narrow gashes on my right arm, apparently it hadn't bit me, but claw marks? Anyways, there wasn't much i could do about it, so i settled on ripping a bit of grass from the ground and wrapping it tightly around the wound. There, that should stop the bleeding and keep infection out. I wouldn't be able to do anything with that arm for a while, good thing I was left-handed. As with the wound, there wasn't much I could do about The Grue so i resigned to sitting around the fire, nibbling on one of the drumsticks from the Gobbler encounter. I probably would've given up on finding Willow then and there if it weren't for the smoke in the distance.
-----------------
*Forum censors
Edited by Blazingice26
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Rosten    913

**Warning, Dark themes ahead, Easily offended people, children, or easily offended children may want to back away slowly now**

 

So, remember when I said I tried to write while depressed? this happens to be part of what i wrote then, as stated above, it's of a bit of a darker tone then usual, no gore or blood or anything like that yet though

 

-----------------

Ghost Of The Past

------

Maxwell had wanted our deaths to be on his own terms. Eaten by hounds, frozen by winter, burned by summer. He never would've thought any of us would've done the unthinkable. But he had put her, her specifically, through such a horrible hell. The others had reassured me, claiming they had been put through the same. None of them, not Wilson, Willow, or even Wx, have had their sibling killed in cold-blood for no other reason then to make them suffer more. Other kids thought it was their fault that their siblings died, but me, it was an undeniable fact, my sister had been killed because of me.
 
These were the thoughts that ran through my head as i turned the sharp piece of flint over in my hand, pushing it against my wrist, firm enough to feel the rough texture, but not strong enough to cut... yet. Willow, having noticed my actions came to sit next to me.
 
"Maxwell and Abby bothering you again?"
 
"Yea."
 
"You probably shouldnt have that flint so close to your wri-"
 
"Willow."
 
"Oh... You're not seriously considering.."
 
"Yes."
 
"Oh."
 

 

She walked off without another word, leaving me alone to make the decision..... or the incision.
--------------
*There's about a -32% chance i'll continue this, but i had to write chapter 1 part 1 so that it lined up correctly with everything else
**I'll think of a name later, geeze >.>
Edited by Blazingice26
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Rosten    913

 ♪ Goodnight Abby, Good night 


------------------------------------


♪ Abby, good night, Abby, good night ♪

♪ Good night, Abby, good night, Abby ♪

♪ I'll see you in my dreams ♪

"..Huh.... is that.." A familiar voice singing what seemed to be a modified version of Goodnight Irene, a song from the 1930s, awoke me from my light sleep

♪ Last saturday night, I got married, ♪

♪ me and my boy settled down ♪

It was hard to tell, with the voice being so muffled from my still-sleeping ears, but....

♪ Now me and him my guy are parted ♪

♪ I'm gonna take another stroll downtown ♪

Wiping the sleep from eyes, what i had thought had been confirmed, it was wendy, singing to her sister

♪ Sometimes I live in the country ♪  

♪ Sometimes I live in the town ♪

It was odd, hearing her like this, her voice so beautiful, was this what she sounded like before abigail died? it seemed as if she hadnt noticed i was awake, so i kept listening, although i felt as if i were intruding on something,

♪ Abby good night Abby good night ♪

♪ good night, abby good night Abby ♪ 

♪ I'll see you in my dre-♪

The last word was cut-off sharply, wondering what was wrong I re-focused my eyes and, somehow in her twirling dance she had caught my half-open eyes and now she stood there, staring, mouth half-open, blushing. Embarassed of what i would think, she took off towards the woods, leaving her sisters flower behind.

---------------------------------

If anyone decides to get all up in arms thinking that all the characters were from the "Insert time-period no-where near the 1930s here" I believe that the closest we've gotten to a definite time period was somewhere in the 1900's, and even if wendy had been born in the 1940s or 1950s it's pretty possible that she heard this song from her parents, also it seemed to fit this kind of thing perfectly

 

I also wrote this at 12 in the morning, so deal with it
Edited by Blazingice26

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Parrotoss    214

Very nice collection you have going here; although, there are a few tibits that bother me.

 

For example, the statement, "he ran with his tail between his legs faster then Usain Bolt" and modern-terms such as "programming" really killed any immersion I feel when reading. This is because since Wilson is the one narrating the story, it stands to reason he wouldn't know anything about topics beyond his time period. Using modern-terms and references if fine when written in third person, yet isn't normally recommended for serious stories--as it can be very hard to pull off successfully without taking a reader out of the setting.

Also, using numbers as symbols: 1,2,3 etc. is a bad habit. It is better to use a number in full written form: one, two, three--mainly become is just looks nice and can look a bit jarring--of course, dates and the like are just fine as is.

 

 

In addition, when Wilson says, "convinced the night-monster... the... the Grue." It threw me off that Wilson named the monster moments after it attacked him. To be realistic, Wilson should be wide-eyed and taking a defensive mental stance before giving it any sort of label other than "monster" or another term resembling its appearance. For example, if I was decked in the face while in the dark my first notible action would a be fight or flight response, which is determined when a threat is being assessed. The threat would be identified as something generic with background info on possibilities, instead of a name like Joe or OMG it's the Guarana Goblin!

 

Overall, I say your writing is off to a great start! Sure, some bits are choppy here and there, but it's better than most I see.

Usually people starting off write sentences that are too short, lacking detail--or are so excessive in explanation/exposition, it's like reading a text book--you seem to have a nice balance so far.

Okay, this has gotten pretty long--you can see I'm a text book styled writer...

Oh, and if you are stuck on what to write, I could always spout some words your ways to get the creative juices flowin.

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Rosten    913

Very nice collection you have going here; although, there are a few tibits that bother me.

 

For example, the statement, "he ran with his tail between his legs faster then Usain Bolt" and modern-terms such as "programming" really killed any immersion I feel when reading. This is because since Wilson is the one narrating the story, it stands to reason he wouldn't know anything about topics beyond his time period. Using modern-terms and references if fine when written in third person, yet isn't normally recommended for serious stories--as it can be very hard to pull off successfully without taking a reader out of the setting.

Also, using numbers as symbols: 1,2,3 etc. is a bad habit. It is better to use a number in full written form: one, two, three--mainly become is just looks nice and can look a bit jarring--of course, dates and the like are just fine as is.

Yea, someone else pointed that out as I was talking on steam about the Usain Bolt thing, although programming might not be such a problem as games such as Zork were released around 1980 and as far as I know the game is set somewhere in the mid-late 1900s so at that point terms such as "Grue" and "programming" wouldnt be extremely alien around then, also your signature - "-Said the smartest scientist, ever." :p

 

 

In addition, when Wilson says, "convinced the night-monster... the... the Grue." It threw me off that Wilson named the monster moments after it attacked him. To be realistic, Wilson should be wide-eyed and taking a defensive mental stance before giving it any sort of label other than "monster" or another term resembling its appearance. For example, if I was decked in the face while in the dark my first notible action would a be fight or flight response, which is determined when a threat is being assessed. The threat would be identified as something generic with background info on possibilities, instead of a name like Joe or OMG it's the Guarana Goblin!

Honestly if i were to get attacked by something in pitch-darkness the first thing I would try to do to ease myself would be to try and relate it to something familiar, and, as said above, the time period being around the late 1900s it's completely possible that wilson would've played (and subsequently, completed) Zork and, in playing having encountered the infamous Grue

 

admittedly, i've yet to be bitten by something in the middle of the night ('cept maybe my cat) so i'm not entirely sure what my reaction would be from lack of experience... xD

 

 

Overall, I say your writing is off to a great start! Sure, some bits are choppy here and there, but it's better than most I see.

Usually people starting off write sentences that are too short, lacking detail--or are so excessive in explanation/exposition, it's like reading a text book--you seem to have a nice balance so far.

Okay, this has gotten pretty long--you can see I'm a text book styled writer...

Oh, and if you are stuck on what to write, I could always spout some words your ways to get the creative juices flowin.

Believe me, you should see some of the stories in the folder that i like to call "the land of forgotten .txts"

I've actually got something written down on paper that i'd like to finish typing, it's just life's been quite hectic (I didn't even go to school today and didn't get home till 9:00) so i haven't had time to even find the notebook I wrote it in, much less spell/grammar check and type it out

 

also, yay, constructive criticism!

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23rd    765

Sorry, computer spazz here. How do I delete this?

There is no deleting, only Zuul editing things to make it look like you totally meant to do that.

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Parrotoss    214

There is no deleting, only Zuul editing things to make it look like you totally meant to do that.

 

Ahh, thanks. At least double posting isn't frowned upon here. Some forums can be really aggressive about it.

 

Yea, someone else pointed that out as I was talking on steam about the Usain Bolt thing, although programming might not be such a problem as games such as Zork were released around 1980 and as far as I know the game is set somewhere in the mid-late 1900s so at that point terms such as "Grue" and "programming" wouldnt be extremely alien around then, also your signature - "-Said the smartest scientist, ever."  :razz:

 

Honestly if i were to get attacked by something in pitch-darkness the first thing I would try to do to ease myself would be to try and relate it to something familiar, and, as said above, the time period being around the late 1900s it's completely possible that wilson would've played (and subsequently, completed) Zork and, in playing having encountered the infamous Grue

 

I was under the impression the game took place in the early 1900's,  say between 1900-1920s, at the most, perhaps the 1950's--since the animated short that showed Wilson's interaction with the radio--(a very old looking radio, mind you.) showed a phonograph, popular in the 1920s--and one is later seen next to Maxwell's throne.

Pong, the first video game, was created around 1960 and Zork didn't kick off until 1970. Plus, Wilson types on a typewriter--wouldn't he use a computer if he was a serious scientist?

          Wilson and everyone else also dress really old-timey--like a Grandma's Grandma.

Anyway, I don't want to offend. I'm just confused on the actually time period of the game now. It just doesn't fit the style.

 

Oh, and on the whole being scared in the dark thing--yeah, it's not a pleasant, thoughtful experience.

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Rosten    913

Sakerarenai

------

Chapter 3 -
Part 2 -
The Forest
 
With a sigh I sat down next to my campfire, defeated, I couldn't see it, couldn't touch it, so how was I supposed to get rid of it? I can't even avoid it as there's no way of knowing where it is until it's to late... but how could such a thing exist? Lurking only in total darkness, somehow sensing where anything that enters the darkness is, and oddly, only preying on humans. I've seen the spiders and rabbits sleeping outside when darkness falls, why doesn't it target them? It's as if the only reason for its existence is to terrorize me, and whoever else happens to be stuck out here. 
 
No sooner did the thought enter my mind then I thought immediately  of Willow. Had she succumbed to the night monsters claws? No, she had that lighter that I made for her so she'd stop using up all of our matches, it was a pretty old thing, fairly large, cylindrical shaped with quite a few dents and scratches on it, the misshaped flower she painted on it oh so long ago has almost completely faded. Still, the thing barely used any fluid, giving it an almost indefinite flame that hardly ever needed refueling, it worked quite well for her given the size of the flame and how little money I had to spend refueling it, I can see why she still clings to it.
 
Suddenly my train of thought was broken by an odd smell, was something burning? It wasn't my campfire, as, oddly enough it was entirely smokeless and didn't project any odor at all, so, where could that scent be coming from? I stood up from my comfortable spot next to my fire to see if i could find out what was burning. Swiveling my head around to get a better view of the area, and sure enough, there was a bright blaze a couple miles away, producing a plume of smoke that was floating towards my camp. Alright, now I know where the fire is coming from, but who, or what started it?
 
Oddly enough, the idea that Willow had set the fire never crossed my mind, maybe I was just to distracted with the matters at hand, but nonetheless, I cobbled together a torch out of some twigs and used grass as kindling, lit it on the campfire and started on my walk towards the burning forest.

 

The walk, honestly, was pretty uneventful, after all, in the middle of the night, not much stirs except for the spiders whose eyes I could occasionally see glowing just out of the area my torch lit. None of them attacked me, just looked at me with an odd curiosity in their eyes, all eight of them. Other than that I picked a few saplings and harvested some tall grass to replenish the stock I lost making the torch, once I arrived at the forest however, was an entirely different story.

 

Once I had finally reached the forest, the fire had died down from a huge inferno back down to a small ember, then finally gone completely out as the sun rose, leaving the forest almost entirely burned down, and covering just about everything within twenty feet of the forest covered in a layer of soot, there was little hope of finding The Fire-starter now, hours after the fire had gone, but I felt compelled to at least search around a little, determined not to have wasted the trip down here.
 
What I found was... unnerving, at best,                
 
A couple of hours after I started searching, I was getting ready to start on the journey back home, since I hadn't found anything intersting nor useful since I had gotten here. While I was leaving the forest I thought I saw something a couple meters off course. Was that... a body? After walking a couple feet I saw it wasn't Willow, as this person had bright blonde hair, well, I assumed it was bright. It was horribly dark now that it was covered in smoke. After a couple more minutes I reached her, she was lucky to have survived, but boy, the fire had done quite a number on her. Her clothes were, like her hair, covered in smoke, but also completely singed off in places. For some reason she had plenty of cuts and bruises, many of the former still bleeding and giving the ground an eerie red tint where she was lying. Oddly enough however, the bright red flower she was wearing in her hair was seemingly untouched, pristine, even.
 
However, there wasn't much time to dwell on her appearance and how she ended up this way, I could ask her that when she woke up, if she woke up. There's not to good of a chance that she will survive if I don't do something, and fast.
 
Ugh, what can I do!? The cuts I could just bandage up and leave it at that, but there wasn't much I could do about the burns and bruises, what to do... what to do...
In the end I just decided to take this one step at a time, and as I could easily fix up the cuts, which seemed the most pressing what with most of them still bleeding, was the first thing I started on, gathering as much grass as I could from the surrounding area I started to bandage her up as best as I could until all the cuts had stopped bleeding and I was satisfied with my work
 
By the time I finished it was already around noon and, since there was very little I could do about the burns I just decided to leave them be for now. Now came the question as to what I was going to do with her, I certainly can't just leave her, the night monster would kill her as soon as dusk came, rendering all my work to keep her alive for naught. After pondering about it for a little while I settled upon carrying her back to a different forest, one not completely burned down and setting up camp there until she woke up. So, I picked her up and started down a path towards a fresh forest, one that would hopefully be rife with berry bushes and other food source of all kinds.
-------------------
Sorry I haven't been posting anything for a while, haven't had a computer or internet for the better part of the month, hope this makes up for my absence
 
p.s. I added a small reference to don't starve in this, see if you can find it, 10 points to whoever does :razz:
 
 
edit - formatting errors
Edited by Blazingice26
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mrtwoface    80

Is the reference that Wilson refers to whoever made the fire as the Firestarter, Willow's character-choosy-screen name? 

 

I'm liking your story so far. The first-person perspective is fun and the relationships you have chosen between the characters is interesting. It kind of annoys me that Maxwell would kill Abigail just to be a jerk, but that's probably because I like to think of him as a good guy who made bad choices. 

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Rosten    913

Is the reference that Wilson refers to whoever made the fire as the Firestarter, Willow's character-choosy-screen name? 

 

I'm liking your story so far. The first-person perspective is fun and the relationships you have chosen between the characters is interesting. It kind of annoys me that Maxwell would kill Abigail just to be a jerk, but that's probably because I like to think of him as a good guy who made bad choices. 

Yep, you got it, funny how a bit of capitalization can turn a meaningless title into a small reference.

 

And, about that, it doesn't really make much sense that abigail exists in the world as a ghost that wendy can summon at will, unless someone from that world had something to do with her death, after all, it's not like They are trying to make nice and help her.

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mrtwoface    80

Yep, you got it, funny how a bit of capitalization can turn a meaningless title into a small reference.

 

And, about that, it doesn't really make much sense that abigail exists in the world as a ghost that wendy can summon at will, unless someone from that world had something to do with her death, after all, it's not like They are trying to make nice and help her.

I can get that, good idea. If it wasn't like that then what is stopping Wilson and Willow from resurrecting their dead ancestors   :wilson_laugh:

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23rd    765

Yep, you got it, funny how a bit of capitalization can turn a meaningless title into a small reference.

 

And, about that, it doesn't really make much sense that abigail exists in the world as a ghost that wendy can summon at will, unless someone from that world had something to do with her death, after all, it's not like They are trying to make nice and help her.

Well..

 

Not saying your canon is wrong, but there's always a way to make things in your story work a certain way if you want them to.

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Rosten    913

Well..

 

Not saying your canon is wrong, but there's always a way to make things in your story work a certain way if you want them to.

This is entirely irellevant to the conversation, but for some reason I can't stop laughing at Bacon vs Necktie.

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23rd    765

This is entirely irellevant to the conversation, but for some reason I can't stop laughing at Bacon vs Necktie.

Imagine if whatever has that moral compass saw a slice of bacon with a tiny necktie. The poor thing's mind would snap!

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Rosten    913

So once upon a time a created a character who's personality and other stuff are entirely irrelevant to this "conversation", but what does matter is that he had the ability to manipulate darkness, and if this ability had been abused, or his emotions got the better of him (particularly those of rage, fear, or anger) well..

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Shane's Demons
Chapter 1
Part 1
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He had gone to far.
His anger had gotten the better of him this time.
only once. But one time to many.
His sister cowered in fear as the boy who she once knew as her kind, level-headed (albeit a bit of a recluse) brother transformed before her eyes into something almost entirely unrecognisable, his appearance was untouched, physically, but mentally, and on some other plane, he had broken. For those last few minutes he had known nothing, nothing but destruction, death, and the desire to kill. His head lurched down from his foe's eyes, and when it resurfaced, his irises had turned pitch black, the color of the shadows that covered the stone walls behind him. His foe simply stared with a combination of horror, shock, and pure fear as his adversary's left hand was shrouded in a cloak of darkness, reshaping and remoulding themselves into the form of four deadly-looking claws, they seemed to be made of pure darkness, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they could slice through the strongest of armour, the thickest of steel, and the burliest of skin like a hot knife through butter. In fact, it was as if his entire body was being remodelled into a warrior of the night, plumes of shadow danced around his body, changing into black armour, warping into a shrouded hood, it was hard to even look at him directly, as doing so would instantly convince the viewers mind that they were staring at nothing but darkness, in his remaining hand, a stream of shadows shot up, and wrapped themselves around some invisible rod, forming a blade the likes of which few mortals have ever witnessed, The Blade Of Nocturnal, a horrible manifestation of a weapon that had caused even Daedra to cower in fear at the very mention of the sword, many, many years ago in a land once known as Tamriel. He paused, and then speaking, slowly, in a choir of demonic sounds, a voice could be heard;
"Any last words, mortal?" he had hissed out the last word, as if it were a word so reproachable that just saying it was an insult to his very being.
The poor man started to say something, but whatever he was saying was cut* short by the swish of a sword, and the cry of a man whom just had a blade made of pure darkness shoved into his heart.
She had been expecting to see a torrent of blood come flooding from the wound, but instead it seemed as if time had frozen, the mans body stood, paralysed with an expression of pure pain and hurt. Tendrils of darkness shot out of the blade, coiling around the mans arms, legs, and torso in a similar fashion to how the boy had transformed, except this time there was no transformation, the sword was feasting on his soul, painfully ripping it out of his body, the pain so terrible that the man couldn't even scream. The boy withdrew the sword from the mans stomach. What was left was a mere shadow of a man, barely alive he lie on the ground, his body seemed to have finally come out of it's unnatural limbo and, after a short pause crimson red blood came pouring out of the wound the deadly sword had made. The boy looked down, his expression seemed almost unreadable, but she could've sworn she saw a smirk cross his face as the shadow raiment's were slowly destroyed, losing the shape of swords, and claws, and armour, they unwrapped themselves from around the boy's body and withdrew back into the shadows, the boy fell, exhausted, on his hands and knees, and, to his sister's horror, seconds later he fell unconscious into the pool of blood covering the floor.
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*Pun.
Edited by Blazingice26
Puns

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