Sci-fi story help - need a little insight on a story i wrote

[Naki]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]ok i'm writing a sci-fi story and needed some pro insight so here it is

The rain cut though the bleak night sky as the ocasional strike of lightning lit the soilders' stern faces. They all knew they had to protect the alliance outpost at all costs, what they didn't know was that they would never see the light of day again. One of the gaurds spied a movement but before he could alert anyone the figure silenced him, permently. In the blink of an eye searchlights snapped on and the phantom figure dropped 12 more soilders before the first hit the cold ground. He ran forward, fire splashing from the muzzel of his gun, illuminating the victim's face for a split second before they sank like a stone. When he was confident he was the only living thing left he walked slowly towards the base as the smoke seeped from his gun and floated over the dark red pools of blood that intergrated with the muddy brown pools of rain. He arrived at the door and placed a small brown package inside then he ran off, dissepearing into the night. As he approched the small Seeker jeep he pushed a button on his watch. Back at the base the package ruptured into a fireball that rushed through the halls in a tidal wave of burning hatred, it made its way to the power core and removed the base from the face of Dioge. As Shroud drove off he felt nothing, this was war, those men were a threat to his planet and he did what he had to in order to neutralize that threat.

whoa that took long to type
comments anyone?[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Warning: My examples contain gratious violence, gunplay and bloodless, but still brutal death. Not for the faint of heart.

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

Way too short. If you want to keep it at that length, cut it down to a mission debriefing by Shroud.

If you want to expand on it, here's a few tips:

Is it part of a larger story, or are there other stories that deal with Shroud? His character is only drawn with very broad strokes: We know he's a stealth operative with some high-tech gear. He kicks lots of rear. (Watch out for the munchkin syndrom there!) And he participates in a war because he thinks he needs to, not because he enjoys it.

Make the descriptions longer! Divide it into scenes! Here's an example for how I'd write the very first encounter:

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

Private McKanzie (insert name as you want) cursed his bad luck. Another graveyard shift right in the middle of nowhere, and, just to add insult to injury, a storm that seemed to have sprung from the worst his nightmares had to offer. Still, there was nothing to do but ride it out. The Alliance was counting on him, after all. This outpost was vital. He was doing the right thing. Usually, telling himself that calmed his anxiety, but it didn't help here. The enemy was out there. McKanzie hoped that the attack wouldn't happen on his shift, or, failing that, that he'd die fast and painless.

He did get his last wish granted.

A subsonic projectile pierced through the darkness, impacting the soldier's cranium without much ado. McKanzie's eyes stared blankly at the hole in the supposedly bulletproof visor of his combat helmet, and his empty eyes saw the muddy, wet ground race towards them before he finally impacted the dead soil, likewise lifeless.

As another guard ran to investigate, a shadow in this valley of darkness moved ever so slightly, racking the bolt on his silenced rifle and scanning for the next target. Behind the rifle's optics, hidden underneath five layers of infrared-absorbing, ballistic-rated fibres, a grizzled face wore a humorless grin.

The Shroud had struck again.

---------

This covers your first three *sentences*. It's by no means perfect, but it's something that would interest me. (And by my standards, this is still too short.)

Note the following characteristica:

- The first soldier gets a name, and we get a look into his psyche. This is something I like to use for such "stealth action" scenes. Your character doesn't get noticed? Describe what his enemies see! Plus, you see the single soldier, nearly alone in the darkness. You *know* something bad is about to happen. That adds suspense.

- Equipment description. Shroud uses advanced technology, better than that of the average grunt. From what I've written, we can infer that he has a silenced precision rifle (presumably with some sort of advanced powered optics), some sort of stealth armor that lets him bypass perimeter sensors, etc., while the grunts he faces have token armor that his weapons cut through and can't see anything in the bad weather. Stuff like this explains how Shroud can get the drop, and gives the impression that he is indeed some sort of special operative.

- Again, name your characters early. "Mysterious man" gets very old, very fast. You're the storyteller, you're supposed to *know* who these people are. Naming them makes your prose less confusing and allows your reader to visualize their shifting positions better. It allows you to expand your descriptions without the reader thinking "Wait, which soldier did he shoot? The one who was already cringing in pain, or the guy charging at him with a machinegun?"

- *Show*, don't *tell*. It's not only about what, it's about how. Compare:

Johnny walked into the room and killed three baddies.

VS.

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

Johnny leaned against the doorframe, slowly pulling back the slide on his pistol. The weapon cocked, still audibly, but atleast not unbearably loud. He breathed deeply, trying to concentrate. He thought of his family, his friends, all those who had been killed. One way or another, it would end this night. The thought gave him focus, and he kicked in the door with the grim determination of a survivor.

The first gangster fell without even reaching for his weapon; Johnny's pistol roared and spat out a deadly trio of slugs, the muzzle blast illuminating the omnipresent darkness inside. One bullet went wide, digging into the concrete wall opposite the door; the other two found purchase in the gangster's body, shattering his ribs and stopping the flow of life-sustaining blood within.

Don Vito watched helplessly as Fidel dropped to the ground, clutching his chest in pain. The attacker - a young, devilish handsome boy he didn't recognise - spun his pistol around to target him, but Boris - God bless old reliable Boris - snapped off a quick shot from his sawed-off shotgun. The pellets tore into Johnny's heavy leather jacket, leaving the young man temporarily stunned. The boy dropped to the floor, but while he had indeed lost most of his wind, he still had enough energy to tumble forward. Boris sought to aim his weapon again, but Johnny showered him with a series of bullets. Of ten shots, only four actually hit the brawny, brutish Russian, but these four were more than enough to down the large man, collapsing him with a final scream of pain and defiance.

Johnny picked himself off the ground, levelling his pistol at the Don.

"You're done for, Vito! Your death shall avenge the souls of those I held dear!"
"Foolish kid!"

The Don waved his hand about, producing a small holdout pistol from his sleeve; Johnny, however, had the advantage of youth, speed and training, easily shooting the weapon out of the Don's hand and sending it spiralling out of reach. Then, he lifted his weapon again, aiming it at the Don's head.

"Fifteen bullets," Johnny snared. "Fifteen bullets, and one left just for you. Pray to whatever God you believe in, because you shall soon meet him!"

With the last shot, the fight draind out of young Johnny; his hate faded as the corpse of the Don hit the ground with a slow thump. Johnny stared at the empty gun in his hand. He had become one of them, another petty murderer. The sirens in the background announced police, but Johnny did not worry. His life's ambition had been fulfilled. Whether they would kill him, imprison him or let him go, it did not matter to him. He collapsed sobbing, thinking of the image of his sister.

He wept tears of joy in the middle of the carnage he had caused.

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

See the difference? Detail is your friend; if you don't want detail, you zoom out so far from the action that it ceases being a story and starts being an essay. Particularly action scenes scream for detail - most everyone who reads your stories has seen action movies, and a reasonably detailed account such as above will suffice to generate the desired effect. Even my examples are flawed, because they lack a conclusive "Why?" (Shroud and Johnny have reasons, and they're alluded to, but we don't see it happening - flashbacks help here), "When?" and "Where?". These should be taken care of before you start the action. You might be tempted to start your story with an action scene, but that means you need to heap the rest upon your readers with a flashback. Flashbacks are easily abused; try to stay away from them. Tell your story from start to finish, unless you're shooting for a particular effect; flashback-heavy prose is very difficult to write well. (Trust me, I know.) How many action movies start right with a bang? OK, a few, but these are "teasers", found most prominently in Trek or James Bond.

If you need a teaser, ask yourself - if I didn't have it and told the story from the beginning, would the reader still want to read it? If your answer is no, then the story is not compelling enough, and while a teaser will get the readers rolling, they wll probably still be disappointed. A good story relies on having endearing characters, characters with recognisable motivations, facets and flaws, plus the right conflict.

Phew. Hope that helps you a bit.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I would also like to add a short treatment on the usage of music. Music is a powerful tool many authors seem to ignore; but for action stories, which already have that cinematic flair, a virtual "soundtrack" helps immensely. You don't even need to specifically note which music is supposed to be used (though you can, of course!), but it helps the have it playing in the background when you write. Good music sparks your imagination. Imagine a scene set to your chosen song. The music gives the scene rhythm, reference; the action flows and ebbs together with the drums, beats and guitars. Lyrics may even become a description of your scene or the involved characters. For example, take these three songs:

Crystal Method + Filter: Trip like I do (Spawn Soundtrack)
----------------------------

This fast-pace electronica piece is perfect for an action scene. After the second stanza, there's a short segue where the song grows nearly quiet, then explodes into a furious, even high speed. This is the moment where your hero has aimed his weapon in a standoff, where your camera stares down the barrel. He pulls the trigger, and the music explodes together with the bullet tearing out of the gun. Good starting points for action music are Crystal Method, Filter, Apollo 440, a lot of metal and punk rock too.

Max Payne 2 Theme (available from maxpayne.com)
--------------------

This instrumental theme from a computer game is dark and sad, a character piece for your brooding hero. Despite it's total lack of lyrics, it moves you, conjures images. Death, the last escape for a mortally hurt hero who has only one goal left to do before he can lie down. Music like this helps the reader connect emotionally to your characters. (And in terms of "feel the pain" is more effective than most emo you'd care to find.) Check out E.S. Posthumus for some great classical/electronica fusion, Samuel Barber's Adagio for Strings or Lux Aeterna from Reqiuem for a Dream. It's not the classical music you heard in school. (Indeed, I've been meaning to compile a 'Dark Side of Classical' CD and send it to my old music teacher, just for fun.)

Seal - Kiss from a rose (Batman Forever Soundtrack)
---------------------------

Not all pop music is bad. Sometimes, fluff like this can be used to illustrate romance, positive emotion, hope. (Leave the boybands out of it, however.) Nobody is above using some pop, but you need to choose carefully. A lot of 80s music is good in this department - check out Foreigner's "I want to know what love is" or The Eagles' "Desperado".

---------

That's it. Music can be a great companion to your story, and having a "theme" for characters and events make them memorizeable. Soundtracking your stories adds a more movie-like, epic feel to them, and is a technique that shouldn't be overlooked.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Naki]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]yeah nice advice but that was just the first paragraph it's not the whole story thanks alot anyway[/color:post_uid0]

[Celeste]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Oh oh oh, are we posting stories? :D I wrote this log a little while ago. It's part of an ongoing story intertwined with other on going stories, but I got some really good response from it and it's an example of using emotion in your stories, so i'll post it. :)

Background: Ariela just had a fight with her boyfriend Tom and she's stormed off in a rage after she took him off duty (She outranks him)

=/\= Holodeck =/\=

The turbolift doors swished open, and Ariela punched her way through them before they were even fully open as she stomped towards the holodeck doors. "Computer, Ariela alpha chi beta four!" she yelled. The doors there too swished open, revealing a plain room with a batleth dangling in mid air.

With a scream she pulled it out of the air with her hands as a klingon with his own batleth appeared infront of her. She thrust forward and met his blade with her own, shoving it to the side as she quickly brought it back and slashed across his stomach. There was anger in her, and no fear as she swung the batleth over her head and down into the klingons shoulder.

He disolved before her eyes and two more appeared on opposite sides of her body at the same time. Without hesitation she turned her back towards one, and her front towards the other. With one step forward she swung again at the first Klingon and continued her motion to the second standing behind her. She twirled as she grunted to strike each of them in turn.

Her grunts turned into growls as the movements of their weapons became faster and more furious. She ignored the blood on her batleth as she plunged it into the first klingon's stomach, using her foot on his chest to pry it lose again and gain momentum to slash the second across his face.

She screamed at him to channel her rage as she slashed back and forth.

Back and forth.

The weapon was not ment to be used this way and soon she was exhausted as her sore arms slowed their movements. The batleth felt heavy in her hands and it was decidedly hard to lift it. The slaughtered Klingon infront of her dissolved and Ariela turned to view the one last remaining Klingon.

Persperation fell from her temple as curls of hair, fallen from its bun, fell onto her face and stuck there. She breathed heavily, the weapon pointed downards at the floor, as she stared up into the menicing alien before her eyes. He was her anger. And she was angry at him. She was mad at him.

She hated him.

"Don't let personal feelings get in your way of Command," she heard Trael say in her head as the Klingon went for her. With some effort she raised the blade to meet his.

Cling. Clang. "It's too hard!" she yelled aloud.

The klingon was stronger than she was and he pushed her backwards. She had to brace herself with her foot to stop his movements. "I don't know what to do!" she pleaded. She could feel her remaining strength leaving her arms as she tried to hold him there, but was failing. "Tell me what to do!"

With a flick of his wrists, the Klingon raised her blade above her head and knocked it from her hands. He advanced on her as she fell backwards, landing hard on the floor. He raised the Batleth above his head as he readied for the kill. She screamed one last final scream as the blade moved down and struck her across her neck and chest.

She was defeated.

The view of the holodeck returned as her surroundings shimmered away. The unhurt Ariela rolled onto her side and brought her knees up to her chest as she started to cry. All the anger and frustration poured out of her body through her tears as she rocked back and forth. There was nothing left in her body now. All the anger and strenght had run away and she was left with an uncontrolable sadness. Her sobbing made it hard for her to breath as she gasped and coughed on the floor. "Tom.. don't you realize how much I love you?" she cried uncontrolably.

=====
=/\= ACommander Jeral Ariela
Acting Executive Officer, USS Crazy Horse
Starfleet Liaison, Security Council
"All that we are is the result of what we have remembered."[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I'd cut short the last bit to just "Tom..." - people don't speechify when they're crying. (None I know, atleast.) It reads as if you had a damsel in distress chained to the railroad shouting "Oh no! There's a train about to roll over me!" The important thing to remember about emotional scenes is to not overdo them - that looks sappy, and makes the scene cheap. Sublety is your friend. (Though, admittedly, far easier to do on screen - it's hard to describe nuances like facial expressions without specifically pointing them out.)

The stuff I posted as examples was, by the way, made up on the spurt of the moment. If you want to read something I wrote for real, I can give you a link. :)

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Celeste]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]This scene is a part of a much larger picture, you must remember that. She says the love you part because so far.. they haven't expressed that they love each other yet. She's afraid to say it to him for fear he'll hurt her. He just can't muster up the courage. And besides, she's emensly distressed in that scene. She's on the floor, crying her eyes out, curled up in the fetal position. -_- (I love torturing my characters) I didn't want to use subtlty in this in order to show the power of her emotions.[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Exposition is a valid point, of course, but by my gut feeling, having her cry and sob about it is good enough for now. If you really want her to say something, then wait until she stops crying and is back to sobbing.

Something like that:

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

Ariela rolled onto the floor, drawing her limbs close and curling up in a fetal position. For a second, the sheer enormity of emotion quenched any sound she might have produced, but her hot tears were soon followed by small sobs that grew ever louder, eventually reaching their climax when her cramping limbs came loose again. Rolling onto her back, her arms and legs a tangle on the floor, she finally cried at full volume, screaming out her pain against the cold walls of the holodeck.

Only a good minute later did she find the strength to control her breathing again; tears still streamed and colored her eyes the sore red of tragedy, but at least, she could now stop herself from sobbing, mostly anyway. In between the short, sharp breaths Ariela's body forced on her, she stammered

"Tom...don't you...realise...how much...I love you?"

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

I'm not sure if this is what you're shooting for, and I normally subscribe more to the "Silent Pain" school (probably because I'm a big Internaliser myself), but that's how I'd do a sob scene.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Celeste]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Sorry, but I have to stand by my work. I don't like sentances.. that have.. two words.. back.. to back.. like this.. it's just annoying. Normaly I let the reader just know she's coughing, or gasping for air, instead of just writing it in. Makes you think as a reader anyways. Of course there are some times when you have to do that.

By you having her roll on her back it leaves her exposed and vulnerable. That's the exact oposite of what she wishes to feel. She curls up in a ball to protect herself and feel safe against the world. Plus, the scream..? No no :p All the anger has left her, it's only sadness now. She can no longer scream.[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]*shrug*

I don't agree, but I understand. To each his own :)

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[taya17]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]OOooh are we posting ficlets here? I'm into writing original scifi short stories now; I eventually ::hope:: to get them published. Would anyone mind if I posted short snippets of stuff I write? As of now I have not much scifi, but... well? :D It would be great to get feedback from creative, talented individuals such as yourselves. ;)[/color:post_uid0]

[Naki]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]well this is what i get for asking help from people who's minds have been tainted by zeke[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I'm all for it, taya, but as you can see, I'm a natural critic/Gatty-knows-best, out to babble until the entire world submits to my writing style!

Or not. Eating tacos is also a lot of fun.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[taya17]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]2 things:

1) I think our writing styles are quite similar, as I do agree with you on many of the points I raise, so any criticism can only be good. The logic doesn't hold, I know, but there you go. Lord that even rhymes.

2) My name is [b:post_uid0]17[/b:post_uid0]. Say it with me, slowly. Se-ven-teen. Se-ven-teeeeeen. There, that wasn't so hard, was it?[/color:post_uid0]

[NeoMatrix]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Dont be so hard on the newbie, lol. You need a Title that says, "My name is 17" or something like that.[/color:post_uid0]

[catalina_marina]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Or a sig.[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Sorry for the confusion, then, but I grew up in the time of forum nicks that were numbered because they were duplicate. It was considered polite to refer to, for example, morpheus25 as 'morpheus' and not as '25'. I was merely assuming that the same etiquette applid here.

Well, that's what I get for assuming. :)

And don't get me started on rhyming.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[catalina_marina]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]It's not your fault, Gatac. 17 is just weird. :D

*Runs*[/color:post_uid0]

[Standback]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I'm into writing, and I *love* critiquing, but I haven't had time to read this thread yet, because Calculus Exams are Evil. Will delve in, eventually.[/color:post_uid0]

[taya17]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Cat, you [b:post_uid0][i:post_uid0]DO[/b:post_uid0][/i:post_uid0] realize that it's been a while since I've THWAP!ped someone and it's high time I actually did, right?

Just to let you know. I'll let you off.... this time. Count yourself lucky.

::cue resounding evil laughter::[/color:post_uid0]

[Naki]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]heey gatac you mind if i use your suggestion for the first paragraph in my story?[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Absolutely not. Go ahead.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Naki]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]thx i'm so puttin you on the dedications page
hell i think i'll even put zeke on there for some reason[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Since I've been throwing on-the-spot examples all over the place, it's time for some stuff I really did write in a story. Well, kind of.

This one is the "intro" to a series of short stories that I'm co-writing with a friend from California. It's called "Professionals", and centers around a group of relatively low-powered superheroes in a slightly alternate present-day New York City. Also note that it's written as script, while the rest of the story is prose - it just makes more sense, imho.

Set to Moby - Southside:

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

[FADE IN. ZOOM out of an eye onto a man, eventually seeing him completely, sprawled out face up on the concrete ground. It's clear that he's dead. FADE TO BLACK. White text in a somewhat haphazard font FADES IN.]

Professionals

[FADE IN. PAN around the crime scene - the camera has not moved from it's position from the last scene, but now we see that the scene is filled with cops, doing basic CSI work. Among them, two men stand out from the crowd. The first one is slightly bigger, with blonde hair, and simply stares at the body. FREEZE-FRAME on him, entire picture turns B&W. White lines appear from the middle of the picture and eventually enclose the man's face. It PIXELS a bit and turns back into color, while the framing picture FADES to black. White text appears below the remaining picture. This is our INTRO-FRAMING.]

Guy Pearce as "Jack Schaefer"

[CUT to the second man. He's perhaps a bit smaller than JACK and wears a highly unusual attire - namely, a Hawaii shirt. He seems to be looking for something, then suddenly bows down, reaches out with a surgical glove on his hand and picks up a slightly deformed bullet from some curious place - it's clear that he shouldn't have been able to see it. We do an INTRO-FRAMING for him.]

Mark Dacascos as "Azuriel"

[He holds up the bullet, and it's now covered by an overlay of blue rectangles, with heaps of small text at the right side scrolling by. It looks like it's the output of a Bond gadget. The rest of the picture FADES to black as the bullet is kept in this analysis pattern.]

[FADE IN. Fingers appear around the bullet. PAN to see that it's in an evidence ziploc. A slightly older man with a police badge is holding it. INTRO-FRAMING for him.]

Ray Liotta as "Lieutenant Ray Helsing"

[PAN to a nearby telephone. We ride inside the phone cable at incredible speed, then shoot out perhaps a meter into the air. FREEZE. As time resumes, we quickly ROTATE by 180 degress. We see a young woman, smartly dressed, and she's apparently listening to something being spoken in her headset. She nods once. INTRO-FRAMING.]

Stephanie March as "Chrome"

[ZOOM onto the headset. We ZOOM out again from another headset. It's worn by another, older woman dressed in black, and she listens for a second before she grabs a sniper rifle and loads it. We see that she's on some rooftop. INTRO-FRAMING.]

Molly Culver as "Sharon"

[PAN to the ejection port. As she pulls the bolt back, we see a cartridge being loaded. CUT to the muzzle. ZOOM out and we find ourselves staring down the barrel of a Beretta 92F. We see that it's Helsing who's aiming the gun. CUT. We see Helsing lead a suspect out of some house. Yet another woman is waiting for the two, leaning against a police car. INTRO-FRAMING.]

Mira Sorvino as "Karen Ayers"

[PAN upwards to the rooftop. SHARON is packing her rifle and walks away, but a man in similar clothing still stares on. CUT to a viewpoint just over his shoulder as he watches the car drive away. ROTATE so that his face can be seen. INTRO-FRAMING.]

And Kurt Russell as "Mark Aaron Simmons"

[FADE to black. Credits roll.]

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

Also note that I picked "virtual" actors as stand-ins. Usually, I wouldn't do that, but since it's written like a TV series, I felt I could get away with it. (Plus, it helps visualise, especially since I can link to the right pictures.)

This is also how I usually treat in-scene music - mention it at the beginning, in a note. I used to do elaborate synching of action to lyrics (Oh, who am I kidding - still do, sometimes), but this is less obstructive, not as in-your-face as my usual approach, and a whole lot easier. Because as I can attest, synching music to the action in your head and then writing it down so people can understand what you mean is just a giant pain in the rear.

This concludes today's issue of "Blatant plugging".

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[taya17]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Alright, I said I would post something, so I'm posting now. It's just a short scenelet, as I'm wont to write these days, and its not neccessarily sci-fi. But it's all that I have. For now.

<font size="+1">[b:post_uid0]Parents[/b:post_uid0]</font>
It was late afternoon, the old yellow shafts of light slanting on the plastic gray sidewalk. On the steps leading up to the dark recesses in some forgotten alleyway the boy sat, eating out of a large styrofoam cup with a spoon.
The girl who came by and settled beside him was several years younger, perhaps ten. She tugged her skirts over her knees as she sat. "Hey, Jem."
"Hey, Elle."
"Whassat?"
"Some new synthpro gruel that Jake cooked up. Want some? This good stuff."
"Oh, I can't. It'll ruin my dinner."
"Your loss." He wolfed down another spoonful. "What's in? You look kind of down."
"Oh, nothing.... just... It's my mom. She won't let me go to Sam's party. 'S nothing."
"No, kid you? Why not?"
"She..." The girl shrugged. "She says there's too many--"
"Just say it. I'm not like the others, I don't mind. Too many rowdies, eh?"
"Yes. She says it's not good for me. My psychological development."
"So you're not going?"
"I guess not."
"You out there, Elle? It's Sam's sixteenth, you--"
"I know, I know. But I [i:post_uid0]can't[/i:post_uid0], Jem."
"Why, because you're mom says you can't?"
"Yes, and I have to listen to her."
The boy smacked the spoon into his gruel in exasperation. "So [i:post_uid0]what[/i:post_uid0], Elle. Just because she's your mother doesn't mean you have to listen to her, you know."
"But--"
"Look, I'm always saying, any halfshit cunt can become a mom, right? It doesn't 'matically mak'em [i:post_uid0]good[/i:post_uid0] moms, you know. And your mom isn't one of the good ones, trust me. Control freak. Hypocrite. Always taking her issues out on you. Fsha, mine was like that too, that's why I'm out here."
"But I [i:post_uid0]have[/i:post_uid0] to listen to her."
"Bullshit. You don't [i:post_uid0]have[/i:post_uid0] to, Elle. They can't make you listen to them if you don't [i:post_uid0]want[/i:post_uid0] to. Don't let them beat you around, man."
The girl was silent, and he continued. "You really got to stop thinking of your parents as the all-on-high, you know. They're just like you--human, is all. They only see things in their own narrow-minded way, and they all want you to be like them, just like them. But that's just old-school imperializm, you catch my savvy?"
The girl sighed and her brow creased. "But--"
"I know what you're thinking, that because they're older they should know better, right? Myth. Times change, Elle. That kind of thinking is so last century, so nineteen hundreds. They belong to the old, they see things like the old. You give them the chance, they'll make you just like them as well--old, tired, angry. That would suck, yes? You've got to stop letting them take advantage of you, stop letting--"
"Jem, stop," she said, voice quavering. "I [i:post_uid0]know[/i:post_uid0]. You've been through this a hundred times before. But all I got to say-- they're my parents, you know? They've always looked after me, fed me, made sure I was okay. And I can't ignore that."
The boy was silent for a moment, then: "But you didn't choose. Damn it, Elle, you didn't choose to be born, you didn't choose to be born to [i:post_uid0]them[/i:post_uid0]. You had no choice, you know? Don't buy their excuses about all the sacrifices they had to make to bring you up, man. It's always about [i:post_uid0]them, them, them[/i:post_uid0]. Did they ever stop to think about how much [i:post_uid0]you[/i:post_uid0] have to sacrifice just to conform to what [i:post_uid0]they[/i:post_uid0] want? Nooo, ma'am. Just because you gotta go through your developmental stage they think they can slap you around, you know."
"My mom doesn't like it when I talk about things like that."
"No, none of them do. Adults. They're scared, see. Â They're scared of people like us, like me. That's why they keep us out of sight, that's why they deny us proper education. Because they're scared, you know. They [i:post_uid0]know[/i:post_uid0] we're smart. And if they don't try to stop us they know we're going to expose them, once and for all."
The girl rose. "My mom doesn't want me to talk to you anymore."
"But you don't want to, do you?"
She shook her head. "You got good ideas, Jem. I like talking to you."
"Then don't stop doing it. What's the worst she can do to you? Put in more restrictions. More restrictions means more to break, and then what? She'll throw you out? Perfect, then you can come live with the rest of us rowdies. Newbies always welcome, you know."
"I have to go. It'll be dinner soon."
"Yeah. You sure you don't want any of this stuff? Jake's a brilly with the protein synther--this nearly tastes like real, beef stew. Not that anyone really knows what [i:post_uid0]real[/i:post_uid0] beef tastes like anymore, but yeah."
"No, I can't. You've forgotten I was geneered for minpro diets?"
"Yeah, that. Must have slipped my mind. Yeah, [i:post_uid0]this[/i:post_uid0] would ruin your dinner. Sorry. Tatyl?"
"Tatyl." She turned and walked away.
Halfway down the sidewalk, she turned back. "Have you ever been loved?"
"Love? What's that? Just a word. Don't let them use it as a weapon. We're better off out here without it. Trust me."
"I see." She walked away. And in silence, the boy continued eating his synthetic meal as the sun continued its way downwards.

//

What do you think?[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I'm not too big on "dialogue shorts" (i.e. any short story that primarily centers around two different characters in some sort of philosophical discussion), but other than that, I like it.

To paraphrase the announcer from Propellerheads' "History Repeating" video:

What can I say? It's different.

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Nic Corelli]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]I would like to offer comment and criticism on your stories, but I am too lazy to read them. Could you perhaps write short summaries, perhaps something like five minute versions of them? :D :D[/color:post_uid0]

[PointyHairedJedi]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Methinks a thwapping is in order.[/color:post_uid0]

[Gatac]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Well, I did two parodies of an RPG on HoaS...here goes:

This was for Chapter Three, which was the first one we actually did play on that board.

[quote:post_uid0]
Five Minutes - The talented Mr. Fredo
-----------------------------------------------

Narrator: Once upon a time, in the Alps, there was a lonely German who lived happily in his mountain hut with a damn lot of firearms.
Dieter: I'm the resident gun nut. Oh, there comes a Helicopter - and it's off schedule. Damn, I'll never rely on UPS delivery for FLAK again...
Fiona: Hey, I'm early and spooked you. Sorry. Anyway, you're hired.
Dieter: Sure thing, honey. Wanna pull my trigger ?

Solarman: I'm not in this parody.

Calvin: I'm the resident swordsman. Hey, who are you ?
Messenger: Secondary concern. You're hired.

Mark: Hey, I'm the resident swordsman and gun-nut. Oh, both are taken already. Damn, I'll go brawl some teenagers to regain my dignity.
Narrator: And that he did ! The next morning, he showered...
Phone: Ring !
Mark: Who's there ?
Azuriel: It's me.
Mark: Let me guess, I'm hired ?
Azuriel: You don't work freelance, remember ?
Mark: I'll kill the guy who set this joke up.

Narrator: The next day, in Rome. Yes, in Rome. Don't you ever forget we're now all here.
Calvin: Lalelalela, empty, narrow alleys are fun. Unless you're ambushed.
Goon: Ambush !
Calvin & Goon: Fight !
Mark: That's it, freeze ! Or taste the wrath of my Colt !
Calvin: Didn't you draw an USP ?
Mark: Hey, I'm an action hero. There's no accounting for continuity.

Dieter: I'll make an ass out of myself by looking at Fiona's cleavage. By the way, why are we sitting in this restaurant opposite two mooks ?
Fiona: We're setting up a meeting here. The writers are tired of multiple plot threads.
Dieter: They haven't read Chapter 5, have they ?

Car: I mean trouble ! Trouble, I say !

Everyone: Fight !
Mark: Fiat Lux !
Calvin: I'll stab the car.
Dieter: Uh oh, I haven't filled up my style quota yet. Let me flick a lighter into the petrol.

Car: Boom !

Mark, Calvin, Dieter and Fiona: We need to get away.
Dieter: Yuck, a Ford Explorer.
Fiona: If *you* had showed leg, we'd have to crawl now.

Mark: Ah, a safe house. It's time for me to make an ass out of myself and look absolutely dorky.
Calvin: It's gotta be one of those gunslinger things.

Wolfe: I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't turn my safe house into a battlefield.
Mark: Then get me a medium machinegun.
Wolfe: No, you'd just break it. Besides, I don't have one. I'm not made up of weapons.
Dieter: I am...
Mark: ...and you managed to get me ammo for my ultra-rare shotgun.
Wolfe: Quiet, both of you.

Mark: I sense trouble coming from that marketplace. Mark my words.
Dieter: You're probably right.
Frank: Bastards !
Sniper: Eat this !
Fiona: What do we do now ?
Dieter: I've got to fill my vendetta quota. See you after I'm done with Frank.
Mark: I've got to fill my "struggle with the supernatural" quota. See you after I'm done with the sniper.

Everyone: Fight !
Mark: I'm hurt.
Dieter: So am I.
Frank: Me too.
Fiona: Uh oh, I hear cops coming. Let's hit the road. Mark, stop hammering the asphalt.
Mark: If you insist.

Dieter: Ths is where we say good-bye, Frank.
Frank: Ah ! You'll pay for that !
Mark: Does that threat concern you ?
Dieter: Ha ! What's the worst he can turn into ? Our next supervillain ?
Narrator: Hm...

Everyone: St. Peter's is where we goin', 'cause St. Peter's is where it's at. The big fight ! Tonight, tonight, at St. Peter's !

Everyone: Fight !
Mark: Ouch. I'm hurt. Time to remind everyone I can do magic, and heal myself.
(Repeat 3 times.)

Frank: This joint blows. I'm out.

Fredo: What are you gonna do with me ? You all want something from me, don't you ?
Mark: Yes. We already discussed this. Most of your upper torso including arms and head has been ceded to Dieter...
Fredo: Hey !
Mark: The good news is, I get to keep your tongue.

Mark: Goodbye, suckers. May I never see you again.
Dieter: I return this sentiment.
Calvin: Will we meet each other again ?
Narrator: Nah, you three are too annoying together to be in any one adventure. Even two of you together are barely tolerable.
Mark: I'll be gone now instead of further muddying the waters about the issue of reconcilation of this adventure with established canon from my origin story.
Everyone else: Huh ?
Mark: You people don't deserve me. I'll send you my personal angel next.
Dieter: Does he wear hawaii shirts ?
Mark: Don't ask.
Dieter: Don't tell.

Narrator: This concludes our little tale. Come back next time for the glorious return of multiple plot threads.
[/quote:post_uid0]

And this is for Chapter 4:

[quote:post_uid0]
Five Minutes - Justice is Served
---------------------------------------

Fredo: I'm so sorry for being a general asshole in the last Chapter. Really. I'm so there.
Fredo's Dad: Oh, you HAD to go and dishonour us. How can I die a dignified death ?
Fredo: Not at all. Look behind you.
Mysterious Gunslinger: Hi. You're all dead. Now fall down.
Fredo: *sings* Could you take a picture, 'cause I won't remember...

Azuriel: Remember me from the last parody ? This time, I got a starring role. Not that it matters, seeing that I'll get my ass kicked. Oh, by the way, I'm onto the case of the murders. Gotta go for some PR.
TV: *sings* All the women, who're independant, throw your hands up...
Azuriel: I'll get Charlie for that.

Dieter: This looks like a battlefield. Not enough blood and bullets, though.
Janice: We can change that.
Dieter: Yes. Bang.
Janice: *sings* That all you got ? I take your best shot...
Dieter: Here.
Janice: Damn, foiled again.

Azuriel: Hey, do you have the corpses from that slaughter ?
Jack: Yes. I see dead people.
Azuriel: And not only a few !
Jack: I was shooting for a Willis joke here.
Kinthak: Let me burn down this morgue.
Jack: Let me show off my telekinetic powers.
Azuriel: Let me get the plot rolling before the author decides to have us eaten by a grue.
Jack: *sings* Where do we go from here...

Narrator: And so, our heroes flog into the Rising Sun. Would this be a good time to make due with the "Enemy" disadvantage ?
Wataru: Yes, let's get THAT out of the way.
Ninjas: Attack !
Wataru, Azuriel, Dieter, Dante and Kinthak: Fight !
Jack: That's a damn long speaker's credit. I'd better hide in the toilet.
Kinthak: *sings* Everybody was Kung-Fu fighting, those kids were fast as lightning...
Bartender: Hey ! What the hell is going on here ?
Everyone: We'd better run off now.

Gunslinger: Now to eliminate Calvin.
Calvin: I'm comatose, but, no.
Gunslinger: Damn.
Everyone else: Hey, we just arrived. Was there anything important ?
Monica: Hey, I'm a nurse, and a touch telepath.
Dieter: *sings* How many freaks must a man ally with, before he can kick someone's ass ? The answer, my friend, is thousand thirty-six, the answer is thousand thirty-six...

Wataru: Slash !
Cop: Argh !
(Repeat.)
Wataru: *sings* Here comes the pain...

Helsing: Just who are you guys ?
Dieter: Let's just put it this way: We're the lollipop squad, and you're the bubblegum under our shoes. No offense intended.
Helsing: *sings* He's Killboy Powerhead, Killboy Powerhead...

Everyone: Hey, we're hanging out in Dieter's joint until someone moves the story along.
Azuriel: *sings* Pacific coast party...

Freak: Hey, I want to start the apocalypse.
Gamariel: I understand.
Freak: *sings* But in this heart of darkness, all hope lies on the floor...

TV: Hey guys, there's a jailbreak.
Monica: That's where we be goin', bitches !
Azuriel: I hate you when you do that.
Monica: What ? I was just channeling Mr. T.
Azuriel: He ain't dead, foo' ! T lives forever, you jibber-jabbing turkey !
Monica: *sings* The world loves wannabes, yeah - hey, hey, do that brand new thing !

Street: Oh, a fight ! Where's my camera?
Criminals: *sing* Pump it up for real with Cypress Hill...
Dieter: No, you don't !
Grenade: Boom !
Dieter: Surrender to the greatness of the Wu-Tang clan !

Azuriel: Look, I don't want to hurt you guys.
Criminal: BANG ! BANG ! BANG !
Azuriel: *sings* Instead of taking a test, I took two to the chest...

Azuriel: How did we get inside ?
Wataru: No idea, guess it was required by the plot.
Criminals: BANG !
Everyone: FIGHT !
Monica: *sings* All she saw was the silhouette of a gun, far away on the other side...

Gunslinger: Hey, I'm really the Freak.
Freak: And, actually, I am Frank possessed by some spirit.
Wataru: Slash !
Frank: Heh. Go home, ninja boy.
Azuriel: BANG !
Frank: You're not much better, are you ?
Azuriel: No, but I can distract you until the real fighters arrive.
Frank: *sings* This is what you get, when you mess with the karma police...

Dieter: *sings* It's going down, nobody in the world to save ya...
Frank: *sings* I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter...
Azuriel: Stop it, both of you.
Dieter: Damn, I'll shoot Frank.
Frank: Damn, I'll die.

Narrator: Ding dong, the witch is dead ! Tune in next time for the return of multiple plot threads.
Azuriel: That's what you said last time.
Narrator: *sings* Erase and rewind, 'cause I've been changing my mind...
[/quote:post_uid0]

And, just in case you are curious, here's all the songs this one references (in order of appearance):

[quote:post_uid0]
Filter - Take a Picture
Destiny's Child - Independant Woman
P.O.D. - Boom
BtVS Cast - Where do we go from here? (From "Once more, with feeling")
Carl Douglas - Kung-Fu Fighting
Bob Dylan - Blowing in the wind (bastardised)
Farmerboys - Here comes the pain
Offspring - Killboy Powerhead
Smash Mouth - Pacific Coast party
Apokalyptica - Hope Vol. II
Offspring - Pretty fly (for a white guy)
Cypress Hill - Lowrider (may be inaccurately cited, but hey, who cares?)
P.O.D. - Youth of the Nation
Mike Oldfield - Moonlight Shadow
Radiohead - Karma Police
X-Ecutioners - It's going down
Linkin Park - In the end
Cardigans - Erase & Rewind
[/quote:post_uid0]

And I wasn't even [b:post_uid0]trying[/b:post_uid0] on these two, back when I wrote them in 2002... :)

Gatac[/color:post_uid0]

[Nic Corelli]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]Oo, that`s a lot of songs...

Now I can`t get Moonlight Shadow out of my head... :D

[quote:post_uid0]Mark, Calvin, Dieter and Fiona: We need to get away.
Dieter: Yuck, a Ford Explorer.
Fiona: If *you* had showed leg, we'd have to crawl now.

[/quote:post_uid0]

Heeheehee, :D[/color:post_uid0]

[taya17]

[color=#000000:post_uid0]A five minute version of my story? How about five seconds? Here:

[b:post_uid0]Girl:[/b:post_uid0] Bok!
[b:post_uid0]Boy:[/b:post_uid0] Parents suck!
[b:post_uid0]Girl:[/b:post_uid0] Erm... okay. ::walks away::

That's the gist of it, really.[/color:post_uid0]

[Anonymous]

A five minute version of my story? How about five seconds? Here:

Girl: Bok!
Boy: Parents suck!
Girl: Erm... okay. ::walks away::

That's the gist of it, really.