Subject: This is meant to be anonymous remember. (nm)
Author:
Posted on: 2017-05-23 21:06:00 UTC
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The Blind Beta Workshop! by
on 2017-05-16 17:31:00 UTC
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It's been a week, and proposal one seems to be the most popular. So here we go. The first ever Blind Beta Workshop!
Anyone who wants to participate needs to write a one to three page short story or scene. This can be PPC stuff, original fiction, fan fiction, or whatever else your little heart desires. Keep in mind that if you do write something related to the PPC, it might reveal who you are. If you're okay with that, then go for it. Also, please do not use another person's PPC agents unless they have given you permission.
Once that's done, post your story to the board anonymously (thank you to Cat-on-the-Keyboard for suggesting this and making my life a little easier). To post something anonymously, simply don't fill in your author space. Or create a fake name, in the vein of the Badfic Games. It's up to you.
As other people post their own work, read through their pieces and beta them. Provide feedback on anything and everything ranging from SPaG to consistency to how it made you feel. Post those thoughts under the piece anonymously. If you're looking for an example of (what I think is) good betaing, I made a post about it here. If you want to give feedback on someone else's beta work, then do so! Same practice applies here as normal betaing.
If at any point you want to reveal yourself, you are welcome to do so (though that does sort of defeat the point). After a few weeks, I will call upon all participants to reveal themselves.
A few more points:
— Follow the Constitution. Be respectful and courteous with your comments. This should be a no-brainer.
— You don't have to post a piece if you just want to beta, but if you post a piece then you SHOULD beta.
— Do not try to publicly guess who everyone is. That's not the point of this game. Even if it's really easy to guess, just don't do it.
And with that, let's begin. Have fun, and good writing! -
a story (warning for NSFW language, lots of it) by
on 2017-05-29 01:30:00 UTC
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After a second knock at RC 777's door remained unanswered, Agent Therwin shrugged. "I was hoping you could meet our founding members, but they must not be in right now. Sorry."
"Oh, that's all right," said the newest recruit to Misplaced Flora and Fauna. "I'm sure I'll see them around at lunch soon enough." She was so frustratingly average-looking—average build, average height, and with pale skin, straight blond hair and an open, wide-eyed face—that Therwin would have assumed she was a rescued Generic if he didn't already know she had come in through a World One recruitment program. She—Gwenda—also tended to wear a friendly, but clearly artificial, smile whenever Therwin was looking. He suspected it was forced for the sake of social expectation, rather than any intention to deceive, but that didn't make it any less off-putting.
"Uh, well, time is a bit unreliable in that regard . . ." Therwin himself was a tall, muscular man with short, curly hair and very dark skin, thanks to the hours of sunlight his two jobs exposed him to. His muscular physique came naturally, with not real exercise on his part, and he was always a bit self-conscious of it. Prejudice against Suvian traits aside, a muscular, powerful man who worked with wild animals was a bit of a stereotype, and one that he knew wasn't really true to life. "Anyway, our department is split into divisions, the Floral and Faunal. While you've been assigned to the Faunal Division, you should expect some overlap in your missions, since we're all specialists in specialized fields. You'll be assigned a temporary partner with knowledge of plants if you're ever given a mission that's outside your experience."
"Oh, that's just fine." That same forced smile. "I'd leave to meet more of my team!"
Therwin kept his face neutral, but on the inside, he was starting to worry. Gwenda was putting off too much of a "sheltered house wife" vibe for his tastes. "So, Gwenda, what interested you in the DMFF in the first place?" He steeled himself for the usual First Four Words.
"I just love animals! My kids got me interested in fanfiction back home, and I couldn't believe some of the ways animals are used in the stories, reduced to nothing but plot points, or mindless slaves to the Mary Sue. When I discovered my daughter worked at this place, and there was actually something I could do to help all those sweet, innocent creatures, I just had to!" Throughout her explanation, Gwenda's forced smile had slowly slipped away, leaving a much more serious and determined look in its place.
Therwin nodded, pleased. At the very least, she had more technical knowledge of the fanfiction side of the job than he had expected. "Glad to hear it, Gwenda, and glad to have you on the team."
Gwenda beamed, a much more natural smile this time.
Therwin smiled to himself as they passed the partly open door of a certain RC, though it wasn't such a nice smile. "Say, looks like another member of the team is in. Let's say hello, shall we? Hey, Ashe!" He knocked lightly and pushed it open further.
"What?" demanded a female voice from inside.
Greta brought forth her token forced smile. though it faltered a bit when she saw that the speaker was a somewhat frumpy woman wearing flannel and sitting on a bed, her arms elbow deep in a bucket, in which she appeared to be mixing mud by hand. The woman had all the hair on one side of her head shaved down to fuzz, and the fuzzy part and the longer part were both in shades of blue normally associated with cotton candy.
"Watch for Big Red," said Ashe. "She's on the floor somewhere."
"Gwenda, this is Agent Ashe, who's also Faunal Division."
"That's Awesome Ashe, damn it!"
"That's not an official title," Therwin explained quietly.
"YES IT IS."
"Ashe, this is our division's newest recruit, Gwenda."
"Oh, hey!"
Gwenda, however, was distracted by the four foot lizard that had just emerged from under the bed. It's cales were mostly brick red with some black marbling across its back in no particular pattern. It tasted the air with its tongue, saw (or smelled) the newcomers, and made a beeline for the door.
Gwenda shrank back behind Therwin, who held one foot out between himself and the approaching lizard. Big Red reached them, leaped up, and sank its teeth harmlessly into the leather boot.
"Agh! Motherf-cker," swore Ashe, pronouncing it weirdly, like she was self-censoring the letter "u." The woman jumped up from the bed and hurried over to her lizard, whose jaws seemed absolutely cavernous to Gwenda. They were stretched way open to wrap around the man's shoe.
Ashe picked up Big Red under its arms and gently shook the lizard, growling, "No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o" until the lizard let go. "Jesus," Ashe said, "stop trying to bite people, you're not hungry, you just got fed yester—OH MY GOD." Big red had tried whip its head around and latch on to her arm. Ashe, illogically, turned Big red around until it was nose-to-nose with her. "Don't try to bite me you asshole! I f-cking love you." Big Red licked her nose.
Therwin smiled, while Gwenda continued to look a bit shell-shocked.
Ashe turned and marched her lizard over to a large hole torn in the wall, floor to ceiling, which contained an entire, rough-walled room with a stone pool and branches. The floor inside was still a bit damp with soapy water. "I'm sorry," Ashe said as she walked, "she's just grumpy 'cause I'm cleaning her home and replacing her substrate, so she has to act like a little bitch about it."
"It's fine," Therwin said calmly.
Gwenda began taking in the rest of Ashe's RC. Huge holes had been torn into the walls all around the room, and each one housed some large and bizarre animals. A huge metal rack along one wall was filled with little glass and plastic and wire tanks, decorated with plants and stones and cork-board. Other, larger tanks sat throughout the room, with larger creatures inside. A pink, fox-like animal sat sleeping on the pillow of the bed, where it had been obscured by Ashe when Gwenda had first entered the room. Even the ceiling had somehow been torn into, raising up in a rough cone shape to end in a skylight—Gwenda hadn't been in Headquarters long enough to realize how odd that part was. The cone was filled with tree branches, which served as perches for a collection of modern reptiles,ancient wined reptiles, web-sitting spiders, and one huge bird of paradise that sat way up in the top.
As Ashe rejoined the other agents, Gwenda remarked, "You . . . certainly keep a lot of pets here!"
"Pets?" said Ashe. "Oh, no, I just take care of them. Makes me feel good. Also, they're all just f-cking awesome."
The bird of paradise let out a shrill keen, and Ashe turned her head to reply with a poor imitation. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaw!" She turned back and grinned. "F-cking awesome."
Gwenda stared for several seconds before forcing out an, "I'm sure!"
"Well, we'd better get going," said Therwin.
"Oh, sure thing." Ashe smiled brightly at Gwenda and waved, despite being still next to her. "See you around! Maybe we'll get a mission together someday!"
Gwenda forced her strongest smile yet. "Oh, yes! That would be wonderful!" She backed out of the RC, turned on one heel and started walking swiftly away, leaving Therwin to follow after.
Before he could get too far, however, he heard a quiet, "You f-cking bastard asshole."
He turned back to Ashe. "What?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in mock innocence.
Ashe narrowed her eyes and shook her head, still smiling. "You always bring the newbies by my room."
Therwin shrugged. "They deserve to know what they're getting into."
Ashe chuckled, a low, "Huhuhuhuhuhuh. F-cking bastard."
A/N: Obviously, the question of whether the DMFF needs separate divisions for plant and animal focus doesn't have a place in this thread. Once I'm ready to get this spin-off properly off the ground, I'll bring it up again for the Board to discuss before moving forward.
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Yet Another Reviewing Review by
on 2017-05-30 01:05:00 UTC
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Ok, so running log of thoughts:
- I'm liking the descriptions in the 2nd paragraph (I got a small stack overflow with the dashed-off list of things that were average, but I'm putting that down to not seeing much of em dashes being used as blackets, so not really anything against you)
- The "himself" in "Therwin himself" feels redundant somehow. I was expecting (if there was anything but the name) soem sort of sentence element indicating contrasts.
- "with not real" -> "with no real"?
- "I'd leave to meet" -> "I'd love to meet"
- At this point, I want to know what's up with that smile
- Those First Four Words should have been predictable
- Is Gwenda's daughter already an agent you've published about?
- That's an interesting change of expression.
- Can see why Therwin would be releived, assuming the implication that there's a bunch of shiny newbies who love animals and have no idea about the whole fanfiction thing applying to DMFF is correct
- Re: next pair of smiles. Glad to see Gwenda is getting more comfortable. Also (from previous reading) Therwin, what are you doing?
- Hm. Ok, said smile seems to be a forced social interaction thing
- Why is Ashe mixing mud, and what happened to half her hair? (she seems like the sort of person who doesn't care much about the expectaitons for dress, as shown by the flannel and the blue, so it could be intentional, but probably not)
- I get the feeling the conversaiton about "Awesome Ashe" has happened a lot
- You know more about lizards than I do, so I'm assuming that running for the door and biting a boot are both normal behaviors
- Took me a moment to figure out it was Therwin's boot, given that Ashe swore right afterwards (also, explaining that the dash was pronounced is funny)
- "tried whip" -> "tried to whip". Also "Big red" -> "Big Red' right before that
- Can't blame Gwenda for being shocked by this.
- Rotating the lizard around is also, I take it, a reasonable thing to do?
- Ah, that's why there's a lizard running around the RC
- The description of the RC is a good level of vivid. I can imagen what's going on, but it doesn't feel like I've had a picture shoved down my throat
- Is Ashe ... sane? Probably not, PPC
- Gwenda is, from what I can tell, super not looking forward to the prospect of a mission with Ashe
- Ok, so Therwin usually takes the newbies by Ashe's to give them an idea of what they actually signed up for. Makes sense.
- I'm going to guess that Ashe is unhappy about that because she'd prever not to be bothered by people? It's a bit hard to tell
Broad thoughts:
- I got a pretty good idea of how the characters act, and a slightly less clear (esp. with Ashe) idea of what they're like. That is, it's a bit tricky to build an idea of how these guys (mainly Ashe and Gwenda, Therwin seems a bit easier to pin down) think. To be fair, it's a short peice, and a lot of that sort of thing gets established over time. This could also just be me.
- The meta-ish stuff (First Four Words, funny pronounciation of the swears, the bit about th pleudo-skylight benig really weird, not that Gwenda would know, etc.) was well-done
- Big Red is cool
(( woah, that turned into a wall of text )) -
Who reviews the reviewers? by
on 2017-05-30 02:29:00 UTC
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First, responding to some of your individual points:
-I'm glad the descriptions were decent, as that's one of my weak points in writing. (Looking back, I see I've failed to describe Gwenda's or Therwin's clothes much. :( ) I admit, I don't really have a good mind's eye view of Gwenda yet, hence the fall-back on "average everything." I do tend to use em dashes for breaks in narration rather than parentheses, since the latter feels a little "in-text author's note" to me.
-"Therwin himself" is to separate Therwin's description from Gwenda's in the previous paragraph, though I see your point that it may not be needed in light of being in separate paragraphs.
-Thank you for pointing out typos!
-Gwenda's daughter has not yet appeared on screen. In fact, I didn't know she had a daughter in the PP...il I got to that paragraph . . .
-I suspect the DMFF gets quite a few applicants who "just love animals," whether they're familiar with fanfiction/the PPC or not!
-I did fail to explain the "mud," partly due to pacing. It's actually coconut fiber, often used as substrate for reptiles. It starts out as dry bricks, but breaks apart into a somewhat muddy damp mess when soaked in water. I'll be sure to explain that better in the published version.
-Ashe's hair is cut (and dyed) the way she likes it. :)
-Big Red's behaviors in this story are 100% true-to-life for a certain lizard I know.
-Re: mistaking Therwin's boot for being on Ashe: I had an unusual amount of difficulty in this story following the "one paragraph per one character's actions" guideline, partly due to pacing. I'll be sure to look at those paragraphs, and this one in particular to see if I can make them more clear.
-re: Gwenda being shocked: The main "theme" of this story (if a story this short can be said to have one) is the difference of perspective between someone who works closely with animals daily, and someone who . . . shall we say likes the concept of animals, without having much practical hands-on experience with them? And I think Therwin understands that difference, and the potential for problems it creates both ways, better than the other two characters here.
-Glad the Rc description is good (though I do tend to be better with location descriptions than character descriptions). I know it's a bit more modification than most RCs see, and I'll definitely need to address why Ashe's hasn't been raided by BM yet, but this story didn't have space for that explanation.
-I meant to get across that Ashe was amused by Therwin using her RC as a "breaking-in" of newbies, by her laughter. I'll check that paragraph out more closely on my second go-through as well.
-I am disappointed that I didn't manage to get across Gwenda's and Ashe's thought patterns more clearly, as their opposing worldviews was meant to be a main point of this story. In retrospect, I did end up writing it mostly from Therwin's point-of-view, when it might have been better served from Gwenda's perspective. On the other hand, as you said, it's a very short piece, and is really just an introduction for a new spin-off, where the characters will have a lot more space to grow moving forward. I'll have to stop and consider whether overhauling this whole story to be Gwenda's narrative voice will be worth it in the long run.
In a more broad sense: I'm typically used to getting beta work done in prose/paragraph form, rather than as bullets, but I found I rather liked it this way. It makes it easier for me to address each point without losing anything amidst a set of prose. Also, when I do beta work, I often save the typing for the end, so i can address the whole story from a thematic, whole perspective, but I may sometimes miss smaller questions that way. I think I may try this approach in the future, at least in part.
I also like that your responses are mostly calling my writing decisions into question. I know there's a saying that a beta should have bad points sandwiched in between good points, but honestly, I like getting bad points better, as that shows me what needs to get fixed. Pointing out the good places is good too, but knowing the RC description came out well means I can look past it now; it's the problem areas I like to focus on in a review.
And thank you for reviewing this, even though I took so long to post it! -
Return of the Original Fic! by
on 2017-05-24 21:32:00 UTC
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So ages ago I wrote a piece from an original fic, and I remember some of you guys really liking it. The universe it is set in has gone through a couple of iterations since then and this is from the latest of those, so you'll possibly recognize a few names at least. Without further ado I give you... Part 1:
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This is an Excerpt from a no-holds-barred interview with the famous Ward of The Protectors, the most well known, and some even say first, hero group in the world to date:
“Origin stories? Wow you do want to set us up like superheroes don’t you.
But no, we’re not superheroes darling, we’re very much not. Perhaps Anti-hero would be a better way of describing us. We defend humanity, those with powers and those without, but when we do so, we don’t hold back, we do what we need to do when we need to do it to get the job done and to harm as few people as possible. But that doesn’t always mean we don’t kill anyone, especially when you think in the long term. How many times must someone break out of prison and threaten others lives before you realise that you should put them down for good? With us, that’s once if we’re being nice.
So yes, origin stories. Well I mean we weren’t bitten by radioactive animals when we were younger if that’s what you’re wondering. Each of us is a human naturally born with powers, and whilst we think we know where that’s from it is something I cannot actually reveal.
Some of us were friends long before we realised we had powers, hell James, or Tempest as you know him, and I went to the same pre-school together and worked our way up to Uni together. But university is where it all began, when our powers really began to come into their own, with the mysterious eighteenth birthday thing that couldn’t get more cliche if you’d tried, and a lot of student drinking.
Don’t ask why it helped but it did.
Now like I said, it was at university when it all started happening. We were all freshers and so were experiencing freedom for the first time. Hell some of us barely knew more than one person at first, and in Nick’s case that was because I’d somehow ended up in his bed one night after partying during freshers week.
I was studying Engineering at Imperial College, I can’t remember what everyone else was studying, but we all eventually started to mingle in similar sorts of societies and friendship groups that existed cross-universities, learning about our powers and how we could use them, in secret of course because when the government weren’t ignoring us like we didn’t exist, they were, like the rest of the world, trying to get us executed or whatever for being ‘unnatural abominations’ and the like.
So yeah, that may be where some of our hate and extreme tendencies come from, but it was necessary, or at least so we thought.
Our first real adventure together came about halfway through the second semester of our first year. We’d started actual discussion about whether to become heroes over christmas, using our social media stuff to message each other, bouncing ideas for everything from codenames to costumes between each other. But our first real chance to shine came around the end of February.
So I’m not sure if you remember, but right when this was all happening there were quite a few groups worldwide who were ‘discreetly’ getting rid of those humans with powers whilst paying, or sometimes even getting paid, as the government's looked the other way. Well we’d found one that had operated in London and decided to shut them down.
They weren’t the hardest prey looking back at it now. Probably about a dozen of them, they spent quite a lot of time spying on and researching their latest target before they struck and got out of there to a warehouse they were using as a base near Dover.
So we get a train and then a couple of taxi’s down into Dover itself, claiming to the taxi drivers when they asked that we were going to get drunk with some old friends who lived that way. And, once the drivers were gone, walked back out of town to get to our real destination.
Anyway, we find the rough area that the warehouse was in and Lucy and Nick, sorry Ghost and Spectre move forward, Spectre slipping from shadow to shadow and Ghost casually walking through the other warehouses, completely invisible and intangible checking each one as she went. The rest of us followed, Telath keeping us all linked up so we could ‘hear’ one another and talk telepathically if we needed to.
So we get to the warehouse to find it almost completely empty as it seems the group have gone to get another target. There’s a couple of guys left inside who’re meant to be watching the base but between an open skylight, Falcon’s flying skills, Clone’s transformations and Ghost and Spectre we were able to get three people inside without them realising and from there it was easy for the three of them to take down the two guards (and steal some of their pizza whilst they were at it). I never learnt the full detail, I didn’t want to know then and I’ve never asked since. All I know is that it wasn’t lethal.
But yeah, we have to sit down and wait for the rest of the group to arrive, not knowing where they’ve gone or when they’ll be back with just a single pizza to keep us entertained. Thankfully the nearest supermarket hadn’t closed and so a couple of the guys went off and bought a large amount of energy drinks which we used to try and keep ourselves awake.
Now it was about 4am when the rest of the group came back, they had a girl I remember who had the ability to control water. But they drag her inside expecting to be greeted by their buddies and instead find the nine of us half asleep instead. Both sides take like a minute to realise what’s happened and then we get into what had to be the most tired fight in history. We managed to win when Telath thought about sleep so much she broadcast it out at everybody and the group and half of us just collapsed and fell asleep.
So the group had cells on sight and so those of us who were still awake stuffed them in there before giving everyone who’d fallen asleep kind of comfortable places to stay before going to sleep ourselves.
We woke up about 1pm the next day, utterly confused, then elated at what we’d done… And then half of us realised it was a Monday and we’d missed at least one lecture, which caused a little bit of panic as we tried to work out what we’d say to our lecturers. Because “Sorry I missed the lecture because I was asleep after a hard night of fighting crime,” wasn’t going to cut it we figured.
Our second problem arose when we realised that we had no idea what to do with the group that we’d just beaten. We were still fairly idealistic at that point and the thought of simply killing them never crossed our minds. So we realised we couldn’t turn them into the police because they’d just be let out again almost immediately and our words would sooner get us all into trouble than get anything done, or get justice for all the problems the group had caused.
It was Cassie, the girl we’d rescued, who came up with an answer and so skipping the rest of Monday and spending it relaxing we headed out Monday night with the unconscious members of the group and managed to set it up so that they were all arrested for public indecency the next morning. The police didn’t believe their story about us, and so we managed to get away scott free. Not that we knew it until Cassie (who turned out to be a local) let us know because we hadn’t heard anything about it up in London where we had returned post haste.
So yeah, that was our first adventure together, our ‘origin story’ if you could call it that. Cassie is still a good friend and has helped a couple of times, most recently in the Normandy Incident, which I’m sure you’ll want me to tell you all about later.”
To read the first part of this exclusive interview turn to page 23 and make sure to get your newspapers for the rest of the week as Ward talks his way through the entire history of The Protectors.
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a review by
on 2017-05-26 13:46:00 UTC
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For me, the thing that stands out the most in this story is the sense of time it gets across in very subtle ways. The change in the world's attitude towards powered people is communicated not just through Ward telling us of the "hunter" groups from his college days, but also, in retrospect, from the fact that he's being interviewed about his heroism in a newspaper, with his team's real names revealed. Another example is the cynicism of Ward's present attitude when compared to the event he recalls, when his group didn't even think about killing their captives, and instead got them arrested for indecency instead. The one weakness to it is that there isn't really a "pay-off" to Ward's cynicism, as it felt at the start that there would be sort of a worldview-changing moment for him—but you did say this is only "part 1," so maybe that's coming up further along in the story.
All in all, a different and interesting way to set up your setting's world-building early on.
Typos and stuff:
"How many times must someone break out of prison and threaten others lives before you realise that you should put them down for good?"
"Others" needs an apostrophe.
"So I’m not sure if you remember, but right when this was all happening there were quite a few groups worldwide who were ‘discreetly’ getting rid of those humans with powers whilst paying, or sometimes even getting paid, as the government's looked the other way."
Ah, the apostrophe escaped and hid inside of "governments."
"Now it was about 4am when the rest of the group came back . . ."/"We woke up about 1pm the next day . . ."
The time . . . descriptors? . . . should have periods after each letter, as they're abbreviations of Latin words. ("a.m." and "p.m.")
"Because 'Sorry I missed the lecture because I was asleep after a hard night of fighting crime,' wasn’t going to cut it we figured."
Since "we figured" is the actual subject and main verb of this sentence, it reads really awkwardly for them to be tacked on to the end of it. I would move them right to the front as, "Because we figured,' . . .'" There should also be a comma after "figured" since it's leading in to dialogue. (Even if you don't want to move "we figured," there should still be a comma after "because," and also after "cut it": " . . . wasn't going to cut it, we figured."
"It was Cassie, the girl we’d rescued, who came up with an answer and so skipping the rest of Monday and spending it relaxing we headed out Monday night with the unconscious members of the group and managed to set it up so that they were all arrested for public indecency the next morning."
This sentence is two independent clauses with the dependent clause, "and so skipping the rest of Monday and spending it relaxing" in between. As written, you need commas splitting those parts up: " . . . who came up with an answer, and so, skipping the rest of Monday and spending it relaxing, we headed out Monday night . . ." However, it feels like a bit of an overly large sentence to me, and it can easily be split apart. I think I would personally say, "It was Cassie, the girl we’d rescued, who came up with an answer. So, skipping the rest of Monday and spending it relaxing, we headed out Monday night with the unconscious members of the group and managed to set it up so that they were all arrested for public indecency the next morning." There are probably other ways to do it, though.
"To read the first part of this exclusive interview turn to page 23 and make sure to get your newspapers for the rest of the week as Ward talks his way through the entire history of The Protectors."
I like this last line's inclusion, since it reinforces the newspaper interview aspect. It needs commas, though! It's also another sentence that doesn't need to be as long as it, especially since it's intended as a blurb at the end of an article/bottom of a page. My take would be, "To read the first part of this exclusive interview, turn to page 23. And make sure to get your newspapers for the rest of the week, as Ward talks his way through the entire history of The Protectors." Some exclamation points might not hurt, either. -
Wandering around Headquarters. by
on 2017-05-17 21:08:00 UTC
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Daniel loved wandering the hallways. While most people saw only a maze of nondescript gray corridors, he could pick out subtle details and memorize interesting routes.
Most of his navigational superpower was the ability to not think of a rhinoceros with a teacup after being told not to think about it. Since he only didn't want to go back to his quarters, he kept part of his attention on wanting to go back there.
He noticed a wet patch on the floor and raindrops falling from the ceiling. He squinted upwards and could barely make out a lighter shade of grey. Daniel had never seen a ventilation plothole opening directly into the sky before, and wondered if it was unstable. He made a mental note to check on it again later.
After a half hour of wandering, and seeing nothing more interesting than a trail of sue-blood, Daniel made a left turn into one of his favorite hallways. Though there was nothing to erode the walls, the concrit had begun to crumble. He stared closely, trying to pick phrases out of the fossilized words.
When he was tired of staring at walls, Daniel began walking again. He trailed his hand lightly along the wall, knowing that he could feel the invisible intersections. That's when he had the feeling that he was being followed. He made a quick left turn and then spun around. A woman almost ran into him.
“Sorry.” She stepped to the side and walked down the corridor.
Daniel jogged to catch up with her. “Why were you following me?”
“You seemed to know where you were going.”
He'd heard of this. “Oh, you're using the Dirk Gently method. Follow me.”
Daniel began walking at a brisk pace. He turned left when he smelled fudge and right at the desire to sing showtunes. Soon, they came upon a stairwell and Daniel stopped to point. “That couch got wedged so that no one can move it.”
The woman blinked dispassionately. “I see.”
“I thought you would find it interesting. Now I remember what happens when you assume.” He began walking again and the woman followed.
After exiting the stairwell, they made a two-hundred-and-seventy-degree turn to follow a warm breeze. Then they then walked though the desire to take bleep products, though Daniel couldn't identify it. Most agents would either reach into their pockets or grit their teeth at that point, but he was a simple cafeteria worker and didn't have any missions to block out. The woman was impassive.
After five more left turns, he asked, “By the way, where are you going?”
“I am here.” The woman pointed to the door to RC 51724. “Thank you.”
“Good luck.” Daniel began walking again. -
a review by
on 2017-05-23 15:05:00 UTC
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This is an interesting little piece. It actually feels more like a character study of Headquarters's typical hallways than anything else. It works pretty well in that regard; there are definitely some new and unique ideas here. Ventilation plotholes are a logical idea, but also a bit dangerous in the sense of letting wildlife, diseases, and potential allergens like pollen through, not to mention the question of what happens when a larger aircraft flies into the plothole's space. Then again, the narration mentions it's the first one Daniel encountered that directly opened to sky, so maybe that's not the standard. I just generally like some of the imagination you put into some of these concepts: breaking concrit exposing fossilized words, physical locations marked by different sensations and feelings, the implied backstory of a couch blocking a stairway. They all feel like they fit into HQ, and it's a bit surprising some of this design space hasn't been touched on before.
You've put so much focus on the setting, however, that I do feel like the characters have suffered for it. I can infer some sense of Daniel's personality, insofar as he's clearly a bit of a dreamy personality: spending his off-time wandering HQ alone, learning tiny details about the walls and such. His position as a Cafeteria worker adds to this impression, since he doesn't need the aggressive mindset of most action department agents. His dialogue . . . I think you were aiming for a bit of an airy Luna Lovegood voice? You succeeded with a few lines ("'I thought you would find it interesting. Now I remember what happens when you assume.'"), but for the most part, it just comes out as a bit dull and basic ("'Why were you following me?'" "'By the way, where are you going?'") The female agent has almost no development at all, though it appears she is indeed just a background character, rather than an agent you're planning to use, so maybe that was intentional? But it still contributes to the blandness of Daniel's dialogue, since they make no real attempt to get to know each other. Neither one of them is described, either.
So ultimately, very imaginative descriptions and world-building, but the characters need more description and development. -
Re: a review by
on 2017-05-23 18:52:00 UTC
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Thanks, your review does give insight.
The woman is actually my most-used character. She has a spell that makes her "actively defy description" which means that people don't really notice what she looks like beyond their expectations. I also felt that she would be recognized here, but mostly it is the spell.
Daniel, or Larry as he was originally, has always suffered a bit from cardboard characterization. Long story, but part of that is from his meta origins and I'm hoping it will go away as a I work with him. Right now he's on the spectrum. He's supposed to be friendly, I'll dial that up a bit.
I was actually thinking more about the ventilation plotholes and how there might be infestation. I was thinking that the pollen problems might be caused by the bosses, though. My headcanon is that they're normally winding ductwork, but there still is the problem of cross-contaminating different worlds with invasive species.
I also think that anyone with a decent bookshelf has micro-fissures going into Library space, but that would mean that most of Headquarters smells like old books.
I have seen a PPC story, somehow Doctor Who shows up during the blackout I think. They described the hallways of the PPC cutting through the Screaming shack and Minecraft tunnels.
I need to rewrite this more with Larry as the focus.
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This is meant to be anonymous remember. (nm) by
on 2017-05-23 21:06:00 UTC
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sorry, but I think I already gave myself away. (nm) by
on 2017-05-23 21:08:00 UTC
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Beta-time by
on 2017-05-17 22:07:00 UTC
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Read-through Notes (stream-of-consciousness-style):
- I also love wandering the hallways. Vicariously through characters, anyway.
- Daniel can memorize routes through HQ? That's very impressive, if useless enough to not be overpowered.
- I understand this superpower.
- Lighter shade of grey = clouds?
- Didn't know we had ventilation plotholes. Makes sense, though.
- The trail of sue-blood seems boring to our hero. I kinda want to know why it's there.
- Crumbling concrit? Someone needs to get Building Maintenance on that. Also, is it made of fossilized words? I don't think I've ever heard that before. More research may be necessary.
- I know I've heard of Dirk Gently, but I can't quite place the name. More research definitely necessary.
- I like the feelings that get thrown in. I can see them being very confusing to agents. "Why do I smell fudge?" "I don't even know any showtunes. Why do I want to sing them?"
- They never entered the stairwell, did they?
- "Then they then" You can cut a "then" from that sentence.
- Cafeteria worker, eh? I had wondered.
General Thoughts:
There are some very interesting things going on in this piece. The non-visual descriptions of the surroundings are not something we see often and, in this case, help to "tilt" the world a little. It makes the whole thing a little more surreal, which I liked.
As interesting as the surroundings were, though, the two characters were not. They were kind of bland and featureless. We don't get any description of them, at all. We know little about Daniel, and less about the woman. And the few times we do get any indication of what they are feeling we get "he was tired of staring at walls" and "The woman blinked dispassionately." It might work better if Daniel was openly excited about the details that only he knows about, and is disappointed when the woman is dispassionate and aloof. That, at least, would give you two levels to play off of and break up the monotony.
So, to summarize, the world building that you did was good. The characters need some fleshing out. There is potential here, I think. -
Thanks by
on 2017-05-19 19:28:00 UTC
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The lighter shade of gray was clouds, also the rain was a hint.
Ventilation plotholes are my invention, I think.
The trail of Sue-blood seems like something almost standard in the hallways. Janitor story. I think I'll re-work that part.
The concrit being made of fossilized words, I once read a story where a pair of agents decided to break through the wall into the next RC over to make a mini adoption center. I remember that they could hear the concrit that the wall was made of.
Kitty Eden summed up the Dirk Gently method for me nicely.
I have a feeling that most agents don't notice much of anything in the hallway, except for other agents.
I'll work some more on the characters, or at least Daniel. The woman is supposed to be a bit underdescribed. -
@Dirk Gently- by
on 2017-05-18 07:55:00 UTC
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Jumping in here for information provision, hope you don't mind! Dirk Gently is a detective character created by the late Douglas Adams (who has recently got a pretty darn good TV show adaptation!) who uses the methods of 'holism' in order to solve his mysteries. Holism basically is the belief that everything is connected to everything else. He solves cases mainly by following fate, and- weirdly enough- it often does work, rather well.
*sidles off* -
*headdesk* i missed the point WHOOPS by
on 2017-05-18 07:58:00 UTC
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Also should have added that Dirk usually gets where he needs to go by picking a random person who 'looks like they know where they're going' and just kinda... stalking them. Even more weirdly, this also seems to work. He gets where he needs to go quite often, I mean.
-
A bit of a longer fic by
on 2017-05-17 14:05:00 UTC
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Fanfic from a very small fandom, in fact- an excellent little series called Ruby Redfort, which is a great read if you like really cool codes and spy organisations. This is from a longer character/friendship study, but the basic gist of the situation is that Ruby and Hitch (spy butler dude) are at a rather boring party because of her parents. Ruby's been playing a game for a while involving a travelling lemon (I may have been inspired by Cabin Pressure, haha), and- well. i'll stop rambling and post the fic, shall I?
----
“Hey buster, you look bored,” said Ruby, who had appeared at his elbow. He glanced down at her, and offered a half-shrug.
“It’s not too bad,” he said. “I can deal.” Internally, he was hoping desperately that she’d find some way to shake things up without actually causing any sort of damage. God was this party dull.
“Sure you can,” she scoffed. “Just a house full of people who’d rather talk about their social life than anything interesting.” She grinned, and held up a lemon that she had produced from seemingly nowhere. “What say we stir this party up a bit?”
He eyed it for a moment, trying not to smile. “You’re aware of the presence of the President of Yugoslavia at this party, I’m sure.”
“And the Prime Minister of Nepal,” Ruby nodded, and tossed the lemon up into the air before snatching it easily. “That’s why we’re playing airplane rules tonight.”
He leaned on the nearest table, the smile creeping across his face despite himself. “Dare I ask what ‘airplane rules’ entail?” What a kid.
Ruby’s smile mirrored his. She looked obviously thrilled that he had decided to play along. Apparently she had been just as bored as he was. “Well, the usual rules apply, of course.”
“Of course,” Hitch agreed blandly.
“Apart from that- well, I hide the lemon in plain sight, you have to locate and retrieve it without anybody noticing, and then hide it again for me. If anybody spots either of us with the lemon, the game’s forfeit.”
“How long does this usually go on for?”
Ruby offered up a sheepish shrug. “Hours, sometimes. The longest I’ve ever played was a rally of about 32.”
“You and Clancy, I assume,” Hitch guessed, smiling faintly.
“Ambassador Crew’s Christmas party, year of ’69,” Ruby said fondly. “And what a night that was.” She frowned. “We would have gone on for longer if the cook hadn’t found the thirty-third hiding spot before I did. She decided that lemon would be a neat addition to the salmon dinner and, well, that was the end of that.”
Hitch laughed, and then glanced down at the lemon again, smile falling abruptly off his face. “I can’t believe I’m considering this. If LB finds out-”
“But she won’t,” Ruby interrupted, “because we’re both excellent at this game. And it’s not as if we’re breaking into a secret Spectrum vault, we’re just-” She pointedly tossed the lemon from hand to hand a couple of times. “-throwing a lemon around.”
Hitch rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine. You start, then.”
Ruby grinned, triumphant. “You’re the best butler, you know that?”
“House manager,” Hitch corrected half-heartedly as Ruby squeezed between two people and disappeared into the chaos and bustle of the party.
-
“The Lemon is in play,” Ruby hissed at him a short while later as they brushed by each other. Hitch bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing out loud at how very serious she sounded, and instead focused his attention on surveying the party for any signs of an errant, cleverly-hidden lemon.
It took him nearly ten minutes and a momentary false alarm with somebody’s brightly-colored yellow handbag to track down the lemon, which was almost smugly resting on a drinks tray carried by a tuxedo-clad waiter.
“I’ll take this for you,” he suggested to the surprised member of the catering staff, pulling the tray smoothly from the other man’s grasp and moving off into the crowd, sliding the lemon off the tray and into his loose grasp as he did so.
As various members of the group reached over to Hitch for the last of the drinks, he dropped the lemon in the jacket pocket of the man closest to him- tall, with a severe looking moustache- and deposited the now-empty drinks tray on a nearby table. He then retreated back into the anonymity of the crowd, mission successfully completed.
A flash of scarlet in the corner of his vision made him turn, and he raised an eyebrow as Ruby darted over to another tray of drinks to snatch a glass of wine. She held it in one hand, and sauntered over to the group that he had just visited with the air of somebody not looking or caring where they’re going. What followed next was an almost artful collision as she managed to spill every last drop of the red wine on the man with the moustache without actually getting any on herself. Both of them ended up sprawled on the ground.
Ruby sprung up instantly, offering her hand to the man and babbling apologies. “My gosh, sir, I’m so sorry- I didn’t see where I was going! Are you all right? Do you need help?”
“That’s quite alright, miss,” the moustached man began, but Ruby was having none of it.
“I simply must take your coat,” she said, doing just that- tugging it straight off his shoulders before he could even protest. Scooping the lemon out of the pocket, she tucked it behind her back with one hand. She gave the jacket a perfunctory examination, then handed it straight back to him. “Actually, I don’t need it, thanks anyway! Once again, I’m very sorry, and my mother can recommend a very good drycleaner if you need it. Have a wonderful night!”
And she was gone, before anybody could even question what a teenage girl was doing wandering around with a glass of wine in the first place.
Hitch made a noise of slight incredulity at this, and turned, trying to figure out where Ruby was going next.
-
An hour later, and the lemon was still firmly in play. Hitch was not ashamed to admit that he was having a lot more fun than he should really be having at this sort of party. Usually the high point of the evening was when one of the dignitaries had a few too many shots of whiskey and had to be escorted outside by security.
Tonight, however-
He spotted Ruby’s latest hiding spot as he passed by where Ruby’s parents were talking with somebody who looked as if he were a ruler of some small country somewhere, and paused for a moment as he took a moment to appreciate Ruby’s creativity at hiding it in her mother’s handbag, of all places.
This appreciation was quickly followed by slight trepidation as he wondered how he would get it out without being sucked into a two hour-long conversation.
-
a review by
on 2017-05-22 21:27:00 UTC
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I don't know this canon, but that largely didn't affect my reading. You said this is an excerpt from a longer fic; I'm not sure if the beginning of this passage is also the beginning of the fic, but it's an excellent beginning either way. I immediately started to get a sense of both characters' personalities from their dialogue and movement/body language, supplemented by the slightly-Hitch's-point-of-view narration. You do a great job of expressing Hitch being pulled between staying professional in a formal setting and being bored enough to want to play a game. You also get across the fact that Hitch clearly respects Ruby a good deal, despite the age difference, and trusts her enough to start playing this game in public without expecting any really terrible consequences.
Despite the very excellent characterization right at the opening, I do think the setting needs a bit more description early on. Knowing that the party is so packed that Ruby has to squeeze between people to move away from Hitch colors the conversation about playing the lemon game, as it implies that it will be harder to move the lemon around without being seen—but we don't know it's that busy until the end of that scene. Knowing more of the party's layout would also be useful for mentally visualizing the lemon's different locations. In particular, the sentence, "It took him nearly ten minutes and a momentary false alarm with somebody’s brightly-colored yellow handbag to track down the lemon, which was almost smugly resting on a drinks tray carried by a tuxedo-clad waiter," feels rather empty, and like a bit of a cop-out, as it's too hard to see in my mind's eye what Hitch could have been doing in that time without knowing the layout of the party. However, I recognize that this may just be the result of this sequence being removed from a larger story, so I may simply be missing information here that is supplied in the final version.
A couple of formatting notes:
Firstly, on the internet, it's typically easier to read multiple paragraphs when there's a line between each one (double spacing), rather than simply indenting. I know this may have been copied and pasted from another format, but it does make the words from different sentences run together in some spots here on the Board.
Secondly, you typically want to use different lengths of line for hyphens and dashes. You use hyphens correctly already between the words in adjective phrases ("Hitch corrected half-heartedly"). For the dash that separates parts of sentences or represents an interruption, you need a longer line. "'My gosh, sir, I’m so sorry- I didn’t see where I was going!'" should look like "'My gosh, sir, I’m so sorry—I didn’t see where I was going!'" That long dash doesn't exist as a key on most keyboards, but there are two easy ways to do it. My preference is to use the html code "& mdash;" without the space which creates "—". You can also hold down the "alt" key while typing in "0151" in the square number pad on the right side of the keyboard, which produces "—" . Which is actually a lot better, because you can see it right on the page as you type, so that might be my new preference.
Also, some multiple-word adjective phrases don't need the hyphen in between the words—namely, the ones that have adverbs ending in "-ly." So "cleverly-hidden lemon" can just be "cleverly hidden lemon." -
Re: A bit of a longer fic by
on 2017-05-18 08:39:00 UTC
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I have to start off with saying that I really enjoyed this story. I have no idea who these characters are, though I learned a few things about them during the story. Ruby is a mischievous teenage daughter of very, very wealthy and powerful parents. Hitch is the head butler, possibly head of staff? He seems to have more of a sense of humor and less patience for formal affairs than the stereotype of that position. I never imagined that I would find a story about hiding a lemon so entertaining. It also plays on the other meaning that lemon has in fanfic circles. (Was that intentional?)
On formatting: I prefer to read on screens with a blank line between paragraphs. It's easier on the eyes.
“It’s not too bad,” he said. “I can deal.” Internally, he was hoping desperately that she’d find some way to shake things up without actually causing any sort of damage.
This is something I have been working on in my own writing recently. You have three adverbs in this one sentence, and a lot of them overall. Too many adverbs slow things down and weaken your writing. They are hard to get rid of, but it when you do it does help.
“But she won’t,” Ruby interrupted, “because we’re both excellent at this game.
This is picky, but she is supposing that he is excellent at the game. She just had to explain how it's played, so he must not have played before.
It took him nearly ten minutes and a momentary false alarm with somebody’s brightly-colored yellow handbag to track down the lemon, which was almost smugly resting on a drinks tray carried by a tuxedo-clad waiter.
I particularly liked this line. I know I am hitting you overall for adverbs, but that lemon sitting smugly on the tray is funny.
I think she must have been cheating a bit to know so quickly that he'd put the lemon in the coat pocket, but it's kind of a non-visible hiding spot so it balances out. When this is all de-anoned, I wouldn't mind a link to finish reading this. -
Thank you for the feedback! by
on 2017-05-22 07:31:00 UTC
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I'll remember the thing about formatting next time, whoops. -_- All your other feedback is excellent and valid, and I'll definitely try to put a bit of work into it based off this. I've had a bit of trouble writing this lately.
I'll definitely post a link if/when we deanon- or if i ever finish it.
(Also, the... er, 'other meaning' of lemon is completely unintentional. I don't want to think about that.) -
Intellectual Discourse by
on 2017-05-16 22:43:00 UTC
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‘Oh, bloody hell.’
‘Oh, no, Finch, it wasn’t bloody at all,’ Bingle carefully explained, stopping in the corridor, gesturing. ‘It was snowy, more than anything else. And it wasn’t in hell, either, Finch. Eastern bit of the Sahara, in fact.’
Finch dragged his ocular in Bingle’s direction. ‘Not bloody that! I-ve had a-’ but he was cut off by the wooo wooo wooo of his damage alarm. ‘That.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Bingle quirked his head and leant in, frowning. ‘Are you quite okay, Finch?’
‘I-m seeing everything backwards.’ Finch grumbled. His ocular was twisting and spinning.
‘Everything backwards?’ Bingle asked.
‘Everything backwards!’
Bingle held up two fingers. ‘How many fingers do you see, Finch?’
‘I see a balled up fist.’
Bingle held up three fingers. ‘How about now?’
‘A balled up fist.’
Bingle held up his other hand, raising seven fingers. ‘Now, Finch?’
‘I just see two balled up fists, Bingle!’ Finch howled. ‘And the one on the right is losing wrinkles!’
‘Oh, dear,’ Bingle commented, taking his hands down. He watched and frowned as Finch fluttered awkwardly through the air, spurted hissing wind from his vents, tapped against a wall and rebounded like it had kicked him.
‘Oh bloody dear, Bingle. I need DoSAT!’ Finch was rapidly turning into a mess of woop woop woop, whirs, hums, clicks and clacks and the occasional clunk, as he bounced off another wall.
‘You know how to fix yourself, don’t you, Finch?’ Bingle asked, gently holding Finch with two hands to prevent him from bouncing down away through the corridors like a slow, complaining pinball.
‘I-m seeing things backwards, Bingle,’ Finch hissed. His ocular was flicking everywhere. ‘I-d probably install an extra panel over my central computer access rather than opening it!’
‘It would be more durable, Finch, you know.’
‘Oh, shut up, Bingle.’
Bingle released Finch, pointing at nothing, as an idea came to him. ‘I know, Finch!’ A cheery grin spread over his face. He began moving towards Finch’s central computer access. ‘I can fix you!’ Finch slapped away his hands. ‘I’m very well-versed in-’ Finch slapped away his hands. ‘I once took an entire course in robo-’ Finch slapped away his hands. ‘You know-’ Finch slapped away his hands, once more. Bingle straightened his back and folded his arms. ‘Finch, I somehow feel that you don’t trust me.’
‘I won-t bloody let you, Bingle. Not after last time.’
‘Last time’ resounded through Bingle’s mind like a shout in a cavern. Last time. Last time? Bingle hardly recognised the words. ‘What happened last time, Finch?’
‘You don-t bloody remember last time, Bingle,’ Finch said, dinging off a wall and slowly hovering to the other side of the corridor. ‘Because when you pressed the wrong series of buttons and jettisoned my ocular out its socket, it hit you on the bloody head so hard it erased your memory of the entire day.’
‘Oh, I think I would remember that, Finch.’
‘I. Need. Bloody. DoSAT.’ Finch hissed.
Bingle sighed and shook his head. ‘Oh, of course, Finch.’ And within just a second, his disappointment had already rushed away, disappearing to that same dark, crowded place where most of his other thoughts and memories went. ‘We’ll get there, don’t worry!’ And Bingle took hold of Finch and pushed him ahead. He started whistling. Phwoo-wo-woo, he went.
The general noise of a malfunctioning Finch and his not-technically-malfunctioning friend, Bingle, as they stepped through the corridors went like this: woop woop woop, whirrr, phwoo-wo-wooo, bugger buggering bloody, click clack, woop woop woop, whirrr, phwoo-wo-woo, bugger buggering bloody, click clack and so on. Bingle saw, grinned at, and waved at a great variety of people Finch did not recognise. One or two of the people didn’t recognise Bingle, either, and they creased their brows and tilted their heads, before shrugging and continuing on their ways.
‘Why does this always happen to me, Bingle?’ Finch moaned.
‘Well, Finch,’ Bingle said, pushing Finch around a very large pothole in the floor. ‘It would be terribly odd for, say, agent Alleb, the knight, to have a software malfunction.’
‘But why?’ Finch asked. ‘Why is that odd? Who bloody decided that?’
Bingle shrugged. ‘Charles Darwin, perhaps. He was quite smart, you know.’
‘Why can-t knights go around having software malfunctions, and why can-t I go around wearing bloody plate armour and bowing down to posh ladies with cones on their heads?’
‘Because that’s not how it is, Finch.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh, don’t ask why, Finch,’ Bingle said, piloting Finch around a prone agent, lying on the floor. ‘There is no why, Finch. There is is, but there is no why.’
‘It-s like you hate intellectual consideration and discourse, Bingle,’ Finch muttered.
‘I feel its a waste of energy, Finch,’ Bingle said, turning them around a corner. ‘Questions without answers, Finch, I’ve found are far less useful, in the long term, than, say, having lunch. Reading a book. Not malfunctioning.’
‘There has to be an answer!’ Finch exclaimed. His ocular almost looked rabid, in its wild spins and sudden flicks.
‘Ironic Overpower,’ Bingle said.
‘That just extends the question.’
Bingle shook his head. ‘We are going to stop your malfunctions, Finch. Then we shall have lunch, and I think I’ll read a book.’
‘You-re an immortal wizard-man with secrets from behind the universe,’ Finch said. Something unfriendly inside him made a loud clicking noise. ‘I would have figured, Bingle, you-d know more. Or care more.’
Bingle smiled cheerily. ‘I know plenty, Finch. I do think that’s why I don’t care.’ A pair of heavy-looking blast doors had appeared in front of them. ‘We’re here, Finch.’
‘Thank God. You-re starting to get your hair back, Bingle.’
‘Good heavens.’ -
a review by
on 2017-05-22 20:16:00 UTC
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So, just getting this out of the way: Even though I've seen the names of these characters in the #Rudi's RP room, I didn't bother to memorize their author, so I may be the only person here who has no idea who you are.
This also means I don't really know Finch and Bingle going in to this, either by description, origin canons, or established personalities. However, I found that doesn't really hurt this piece at all. You write both agents to have immediately identifiable voices, even without Finch's dialogue being always bolded. I also gleaned the two most critical details needed to understand this story (Finch is a robot and floats) very early on. (We get Bingle's identity as a bald wizard later on, too, but since that doesn't directly impact the story, its lateness is immaterial.) The personalities and speaking styles of the two agents are as close to being perfect foils to each other as one could ever expect, and it makes for very enjoyable dialogue.
In fact, this story is driven almost entirely by dialogue, with narration being used in just the right amounts to get across necessary information (Finch's "species", the travel). It makes for an incredibly fast-paced read, which matches the whimsical, light-hearted tone in a great way. I quite enjoyed the overall tone, for the most part; the one part that I disliked is the use of sound effects in text, as I'm the type to mentally read them all out, and it does get a bit silly in places. That said, it again matches the tone, so I'm willing to write that off as not jiving with my personal preferences, rather than something that needs fixing. (And I certainly couldn't argue that textual sound effects have no place in the PPC. [BEEEEEEP!])
My one complaint—again, a subjective one—is that more isn't done with the "seeing everything backwards" gag. That's quite an original and clever idea, but we only see it applied to Bingle's hands and hair. I realize the shortness of this piece restricts you a bit, but it still would have been fun to see more of the malfunction explored. Perhaps we'll see another follow-up story in DoSAT?
And again, I really liked the interplay between your agents, and I do hope you get permission some day so we can enjoy them in missions. -
Very well, trying again by
on 2017-05-19 19:14:00 UTC
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I looked up Bingle and Finch, but still didn't find their descriptions, except that one of their voice sounds like a cheese grater. The mention of the vending machine is familiar.
I can work out that Finch is a type of machine, and that he hovers. Somehow I mixed up which one was Bingle and which one is Finch. I know you point it out more than enough, so maybe a picture would help.
"‘Oh, dear,’ Bingle commented, taking his hands down. He watched and frowned as Finch fluttered awkwardly through the air, spurted hissing wind from his vents, tapped against a wall and rebounded like it had kicked him. " I feel like this sentence is too long. I do like the imagery, though.
I especially like the succinctness of slow, complaining pinball.
"‘It would be more durable, Finch, you know.’
‘Oh, shut up, Bingle.’ "
I like the play where Bingle seems very irreverent and Finch is fed up with it.
The explanation of how Bingle lost his memory last time and then says, "I think I would remember that," is still pretty funny. -
Taking a pass at it by
on 2017-05-19 15:28:00 UTC
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I'm going to do this one a little differently from the other one I've taken a look at. Mostly because...I have a hard time reading this one.
There are several reasons why:
1) The "Mister X and Mister Y" thing that you've got going on means that, in this short piece, we hear the characters' names about 300 times. When that happens, the names lose all meaning and stop registering as words.
2) You have a tendency to repeat bits three or four times in close proximity. This gets monotonous and bogs down the whole thing.
3) Speaking of monotony, Finch has as many lines featuring the word 'Bloody' as he does without it. I understand wanting your characters to have distinct voices, but this goes a bit far.
All of that together makes this one hard for me to get through. You have taken all of these things, which are not bad in moderation, and used them to an extreme.
So, that's what I've got. I'm sorry I can't get into more specifics about the story. -
Re: Intellectual Discourse by
on 2017-05-18 09:07:00 UTC
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I don't know these characters, and they don't get a lot of description, but I am imagining Finch as looking like a Mr. Handy from Fallout 4, particularly the very fussy voice personality of the butler types. I don't know why really, that's just what I pictured.
Have you ever read Hank the Cowdog books? Bingle reminds me a lot of Drover. He's friendly and generally calm in the face of Hank's histrionics. He seems like he's only half there in the conversations. Always going on a sort of tangent that almost makes sense, but not quite. He gets Hank into some of the strangest conversations, and I imagine that Bingle gets Finch into some weird places conversationally and he seems really chill about Finch's situation, as well.
It makes for an interesting pair. The description of the noise they make in the halls is quite entertaining. It's hard to remember to include enough auditory description in stories.
I'm afraid that I don't have a lot of good input for you with this story. I enjoyed reading it. I couldn't find any grammar or general usage comments to make for this story. It reads smoothly, although the bold and dash instead of apostrophe took some getting used to. -
Betaing the betaman* by
on 2017-05-19 15:01:00 UTC
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It's interesting, this, in that you mention that there really doesn't seem to be much 'good' input or criticisms or whatnot within the story. I know a lot of people seem to have that sort of issue - they can't really find anything real big to talk about and saying 'Oh, I liked that bit' feels wrong, to them. I mean, I've had that problem a few times, anyhow.
But in spite of that, there's still insights you've put in that are really useful, you know? You mentioning your interpretation of Bingle's character really is quite useful, because it lets me know that I've been playing him right, making people think about him what they ought to think about him. And if that interpretation was incorrect or off - well, then I'd know I'd buggered, oy?
The fact, too, that you not only mentioned you appreciated the noise descriptions but also why you appreciated them (entertaining, don't get it much, et al) is, too, very helpful, both for the charming swelling noise that is my ego growing slightly larger, and for letting me very specifically know what I did right and how it went right.
So, yeah, in general - thoughts and insights on things are real bloody useful, even if they're not pointing out big criticisms, or any such things. And saying you like things and why you like them is jolly good, too.
(And, you know, the Mr. Handy thing is pretty close. Just imagine all those apparatuses coming out of the descendant of a vending machine from a dark future where nobody really likes vending machines much, except as places to deposit graffiti and take out youthful fury on with a cricket bat.
I certainly need to get onto that description game, anyhow, even if it's only got to be a single added sentence, or such!)
*This is not a sexist term, as betaman is simply short for betamanager, a position all genders can, and, frankly, should strive for. -
Re: Intellectual Discourse by
on 2017-05-17 21:21:00 UTC
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I think I've seen Bingle and Finch before, but I forgot what they looked like. I seem to remember that Bingle is dead.
It's an interesting bit of back and forth banter. No plot, just a slice of life.
I really like the part where he says he should remember getting amnesia. -
Betamanning the beta-ers by
on 2017-05-19 15:13:00 UTC
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So I certainly appreciate all this stuff, don't get me wrong! But I feel it needs more meat to it, y'know? What makes the banter interesting, as you see it? What is it about the fact that it's slice of life that you find interesting, and why is that a good/bad/whatever thing? Why, specifically, was it you liked the amnesia bit? Does it fit with his character or you can relate to it or do you find it funny or someone did someone pay you to say that, et al?
That sort of stuff! A lot of statements and opinions, but it'd be real cool to see sort've where they come from or why you think of them like that, y'know? Not that betaing should be a big bad essay or anything - just, whatever comes to you, y'know? -
An original piece I wrote years ago, but never finished by
on 2017-05-16 20:38:00 UTC
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Chapter 1
Fire. The world was ablaze and one woman was trapped in the middle of it. Something had pinned her legs and left her at the mercy of the flames. She tried to call for help, but the blaze sucked the air from her lungs and replaced it with smoke. I'm going to die, was the last thing she thought before her skin caught fire and she began to burn.
Kim "KC" Hayes sat up in her bed, batting at the flames that had been so vivid in her mind. It took a moment for her senses to tell her that the flames were just a memory; that they hadn't come back to finish what they had started. The crash had been months ago, and the burns she had sustained were healing well. Why should she continue to dream of the fire so often?
She looked around her room as she tried to catch her breath. The blanket was on the floor and her sheets were soaked with sweat. That wasn't unusual on the nights when flames haunted her dreams. Everything else seemed to be in order. The clock on her dresser told her that it was 5:12 AM; just over an hour before she had to be up for work.
KC didn't feel like going back to sleep. The prospect of further nightmares was not one that she particularly wanted to face, at the moment. She decided to get an early start, instead. Swinging her feet over the edge of the bed, she started toward the bathroom to shower.
After she started the water for her shower, she peeled off her sweaty tank top and shorts. She took a moment to examine herself in the mirror. Her burn scars stood out first, pink and shiny against the backdrop of her white skin. They covered a portion of her chest, shoulder and neck where her blouse had caught fire. It would have been worse, but some bystanders has pulled her from her car and put out the flames.
She ran her fingers through her auburn hair. It had been shoulder length before the accident. The flames from her shirt had singed a fair portion of hair on the right side. She had cut it short to restore some semblance of symmetry to her head, as well as to erase a reminder of the crash.
The mirror began to fog over, obscuring her image. She stepped into the shower and let the hot water wash the sticky residue of sweat from her body. She adjusted to temperature of the water to make it cooler, because her burns were still sensitive to heat. She carefully cleaned the pink skin of the scars.
When she was finished in the shower, she dried herself off and applied ointment to her wounds. She then covered them, as best she could, with gauze, which she held in place with medical tape. The gauze would keep her clothes from rubbing against the burns and irritating them. That done, she returned to her bedroom to get dressed.
Ten minutes later, KC was in the kitchen of her one bedroom apartment. She had a small pot of coffee brewing and a couple of frozen waffles in the toaster. While she waited for her breakfast, she turned on the television that she kept on her counter
“...President will be giving a speech for their graduation ceremony,” said the Anchor from behind her desk. “Now for some local news.”
The waffles popped up and KC went to get them from the toaster, barely listening to the report. She only heard brief snatches from the television while getting her food and coffee.
“..uelson has been missing since...”
She returned to the table and, when she looked up, saw that they had moved on to sports. She wasn’t interested in that, so she turned the television off and ate her breakfast.
~*~
Waiting for the train was KC’s least favorite part of getting to work now. She was used to driving her car into the city, but she no longer had one. It was her fault, though, and she considered the train to be her penance. She stood on the platform in the dawn light, with a dozen other commuters, in her skirt, blouse and tennis shoes. Her work appropriate shoes were in her bag. It was just like any other morning.
KC leaned forward to look up the track for her train. It was just coming around the bend and would reach the station in about a minute. When she turned back, to wait for the train, she felt like someone was watching her. She couldn’t shake the feeling. Looking across the tracks to the other platform she could only see two people. The one closest to her was reading a newspaper, the other was too far down the platform for KC to tell where he were looking. There was no reason him to be watching her, in particular, and there were at least a half dozen people closer to the man. Still...
She didn’t have much time to wonder as her train pulled up, blocking her view of the other side of the tracks. When she had boarded the train and found a seat, she tried to locate the man on the other platform, again. She couldn’t see him until the train started moving. She caught a glimpse of him as her car passed. It almost seemed like his head turned to follow her car, but it was hard to tell with the speed of the train. She hadn’t even been able to make out any detail of his face.
KC endeavored to put it out of her mind. She was almost thirty-five, which was far too old to be jumping at shadows. It was probably just the nightmares working on her nerves, anyway.
Chapter 2
As she sat at her desk, KC’s mind wandered. It was getting to be the middle of the afternoon and she had finished the bulk of her work. She was thinking of calling it an early day going home. The loss of over an hour of sleep was beginning to wear on her. She zoned out for another couple of minutes before finally deciding to pack it in.
She walked to her boss’s office down the hall and stuck her head in. “Hey, Bill,” she said to the balding man behind the desk. “Mind if I take off a little early today?”
She didn’t hear his reply. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.
“Are you listening to me?” asked Bill, snapping her out of her trance.
“I’m sorry, what?” There had been someone outside the window. She was sure of it.
“I said you can go home, and it looks like you really need to. Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine,” she said, trying to play it off. “I’m fine. Just a little tired. Thought I saw someone out the window. But we’re on the twelfth floor, so that’s unlikely, right? Just need to get some sleep.”
Bill stood up and came around his desk. He looked concerned. “Listen, Kim,” he said, “I’m worried about you. Don’t get me wrong, we were in the weeds while you were out after the accident, but if you need some more time off, just tell me.”
“Thanks, Bill. But honestly, I’m fine.” Her assurance didn’t seem to ease his concern.
“Well,” he finally said, “go home and get some rest, at least.” There wasn’t much more he could say.
KC went back to her office to collect her things. She looked out her own window and thought about what she had seen. There had been someone outside that window. She knew it. Even out of the corner of her eye, they’d been oddly clear and focused. She sighed. It occurred to her that she might be getting worked up over a window washer. She needed some sleep before she became completely paranoid.
She grabbed her bag, locked her office, and headed for the elevators. A short ride later and she was waving to the security guard at the front desk as she strode out of the lobby and out into the bright, afternoon sun. She turned toward the train but was delayed at the corner when the traffic signal turned.
While she waited for the light to change, she decided to put her mind at ease. Bill’s office was on this side of the building. KC looked up, expecting to see a platform or, at the very least, the ropes that were always there right before and after the platform was in place. She saw neither. There was nothing on the building to suggest that window washers were working. It had happened less than fifteen minutes ago, there should be something.
KC realized that the light had changed when she was jostled by the crowd moving into the cross walk. She continued her walk to the train, periodically looking over her shoulder at her building. She had to have missed something. People didn’t just appear at twelfth floor windows.
She hurried on to the train station. She was obviously imagining things and the only way to fix that was to get some sleep. She considered stopping by a pharmacy for some sleeping pills, to ensure a full night’s rest.
When she made it to the train platform the electronic board said her train was due in a few minutes. She sat down on a bench to wait and looked around at the people on the other platfrom. Her eyes were drawn to movement as a man walked onto the platform from the stairs. He seemed familiar to KC, though she couldn’t see his face. He had his back to her, and all she could see, in any detail, were his jeans and tee-shirt.
She continued to watch as the man crossed the platform, walking further away from her. It was odd, people stopped talking as he approached and moved out of his way, but no one ever seemed to look at him. He just went where he wanted and the crowd shifted uncomfortably around him. When he reached the very end of the platform he turned and looked toward KC, and the feeling of being watched washed over her again.
It was the same man from that morning. It had to be. He shouldn’t have been far enough away for her to not be able to make out any detail of his face but, strain all she liked, KC made no progress in trying to find any identifiable detail. However, she had the unsettling feeling that he was smiling at her.
KC surged to her feet just as a train flashed between them on his side of the tracks. When it had pulled well past the place he had been standing the man was nowhere to be seen.
He’s either on that train or on his way over here, she thought to herself. Her own train was pulling into the station. When the doors opened, she hurried inside and kept watch on the stairway up to the platform. She wasn’t going to let him sneak up on her.
She breathed a sigh of relief when the doors closed and she hadn’t seen any sign that the creepy man was trying to get to this train. She realized that she was slouched low in her seat and sat up. She needed a plan.
I can’t go to the police, can I? she thought. Well, I could, if I'm fine with being locked in a loony bin for claiming to see people outside of twelfth floor windows. Do I have to tell them that? Maybe not. I should go to the police.
As she was making her decision, the train was pulling into the next stop. She got off the train and headed for the nearest police station. -
Once more, with feeling. by
on 2017-05-23 00:24:00 UTC
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The first paragraph doesn't grab me. I am interested when it starts showing that she has PTSD.
As she is examining herself in the mirror, I don't feel anything. There was a flash of sympathy when she decided not to fall back to sleep.
I'm reacting more to her having cut her hair than to her cleaning her sensitive burns. A feeling of wanting to restore a feeling of normalcy.
I feel like I should have a reaction to her eating frozen waffles. I'm a little irritated that she was watching the news, but it was unimportant.
I'm interested when she's waiting for the train, and thinking about why she takes it. The word "penance" sticks out for me, it makes me feel bad.
I'm curious about the man, but agreeing with her that it's nothing. Just the wind, nothing to worry about. I'm imagining the Randolf street L station downtown, but I know that's wrong.
I'm getting a little bit of head-hopping when she's talking to her boss. She doesn't know that there wasn't much more he could say.
Why did she feel the need to say that they're on the twelve floor? We don't know, but her boss should.
I'm feeling disoriented when she's jostled by the crowd at the light. Intrigued at how there aren't window washers.
For a moment, I was in the dark and muggy Metra electric train station underground. I have a feeling that's also the wrong place, like she's outside and not at a trains-are-parked end of the line. -
a review by
on 2017-05-22 02:42:00 UTC
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This is a great little set-up, and I hope you can continue this and get it published someday.
Chapter 1
The bulk of this chapter is providing details about KC's car accident, and all the thought you've put into it is amazing. I love how you use the cliche of a nightmare to introduce KC's car accident and mental trauma, but then use the hard reality of her scars, and the time and effort of work she has to put into taking care of them, to bring home just how real and awful the accident was. You've really done an amazing job of thinking of all the little day-to-day details that bring her affliction to life.
I also love, right at the end of the first scene, the hint of a news report that will almost certainly factor into KC's life down the line, which she simply didn't catch. It leaves me intrigued about how much she'll regret not hearing that info, after some plot has happened to her.
Chapter 2
Picking up on the slightly off detail from the end of chapter one, and cranking it up into the realm of the supernatural makes for a great lead-in to future conflict and mystery. I like the contrast between the fairly typical sympathy expressed by Bill and the disturbing, alien behavior of the faceless man.
The one weak point here, I think is this particular sentence: "Her assurance didn’t seem to ease his concern." This is a very tell-don't-show sentence, and stands out all the more plainly for detailed and explicit you make the actions in the rest of the story. The following sentence seems to indicate that Bill paused before answering, so I think explaining a bit of his facial reaction to KC's words, or other aspects of his demeanor, would be a much more descriptive way to show this. Also, Bill's reaction should be attached to his dialogue, not to a part of KC's.
basic errors:
Chapter 1
"It would have been worse, but some bystanders has pulled her from her car and put out the flames."
"Has" should be "had" to match the verb tense of "pulled." The sentence also still works if you remove "has" entirely.
"She adjusted to temperature of the water to make it cooler, because her burns were still sensitive to heat."
"To temperature" should be "the temperature."
"Ten minutes later, KC was in the kitchen of her one bedroom apartment."
"One bedroom" should be "one-bedroom" since that's an adjectival phrase describing the apartment.
"While she waited for her breakfast, she turned on the television that she kept on her counter"
The period at the end of this sentence is missing.
Also, I may have noticed a contradiction between that sentence and the following paragraph:
"She returned to the table and, when she looked up, saw that they had moved on to sports. She wasn’t interested in that, so she turned the television off and ate her breakfast."
That first sentence says the television is on the kitchen counter. The second pair of sentences imply that she moves away from the counter to sit at a table, then turns the television off. I'm not sure if you intended for the television to be on the table in the first place, or if you meant for the reader to understand that she got up and walked to the counter again to shut it off, then returned to the table to eat. This is further muddied by the use of the phrase "returned to the table" when the narration never stated that she had been to the table at that point.
"There was no reason him to be watching her, in particular, and there were at least a half dozen people closer to the man."
You missed the "for" in the phrase "no reason for him to be."
"When she had boarded the train and found a seat, she tried to locate the man on the other platform, again."
You don't need the comma before "again." It's an adverb modifying the verb "tried," so it's a proper part of that clause and doesn't need to separated from it by punctuation.
Chapter 2
"'Hey, Bill,' she said to the balding man behind the desk. 'Mind if I take off a little early today?'"
Since all this dialogue is a single sentence, keep the entire thing together as a sentence. Replace the period after "desk" with a comma, and change the beginning of "mind" to lowercase. ("'Hey, Bill,' she said to the balding man behind the desk, 'mind if I take off a little early today?'"
"'Thought I saw someone out the window.'"
I would usually use "outside" instead of "out" here, but I don't know if this is a speaking quirk/regional dialect sort of thing.
"KC realized that the light had changed when she was jostled by the crowd moving into the cross walk."
According to wiktionary, "crosswalk" is always spelled as one word, though this could be another regional thing.
"She sat down on a bench to wait and looked around at the people on the other platfrom."
"platform"
"He had his back to her, and all she could see, in any detail, were his jeans and tee-shirt."
This one is me being anal-retentive, so feel free to ignore this. Technically, "tee-shirt" is the French word for the English word "t-shirt." -
Late reply is late by
on 2017-05-30 21:52:00 UTC
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Thank you for the time you put into this. I appreciate your comments.
Very important to have a strong foundation to build from. I am glad you enjoyed this and I, also, hope to continue this at some point (and maybe get it published, too).
I'm glad that the nightmare and the sensory detail that I've included work so well. There is still work to be done in this section, as J.E. pointed out, but I am happy to be starting from a good point.
Has anyone else mentioned the supernatural yet? I don't think anyone did. ...I might have? This story is supernatural in nature, so I am glad you picked up on that.
I see what you mean with that particular exchange between KC and Bill. I will re-work that section.
All SPaG comments are duly noted.
I hadn't realized that I moved the TV. Good catch. -
A good start. by
on 2017-05-21 19:33:00 UTC
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The first sentence is often the most difficult, at least to me. How to get the readers' attention, and then keep it, without sparking wrong expectations? Here, I was immediately dragged in, and even when I realized that the first paragraph was a nightmare, it kept me going through Kim's morning routine.
she started toward the bathroom to shower
Right after an early start and before she started the water for her shower, this is a bit too much starting for my taste. Maybe you can find some other way to phrase this sequence.
Also, I was tempted to say that peeling the nightwear off only after starting the water for the shower is the wrong order and a waste of good water. Only when The mirror began to fog over, I realized that this may be a necessary routine to get lots of cold water out of the tubes when you live high up in a multistory apartment building and the hot water comes from a boiler in the basement. And Kim doesn't enjoy the luxury of a thermostat that would keep the water at a preset temperature as soon as enough of the hot water component is available. After that, I didn't even need the mention of a one bedroom apartment to know how Kim lives. This is a good example of showing rather than telling.
It's amazing how much we learn about Kim just from her getting up. Alas, there are two mistakes in this part of the story:
It would have been worse, but some bystanders has pulled her from her car and put out the flames. Should be "had" (plural).
She adjusted to temperature of the water to make it cooler, because her burns were still sensitive to heat. Should be "the".
Unlike J.E., I did not feel like Kim should still be early at the train station. I assumed that her alarm clock is set to give her the bare minimum of time she needs every morning, so getting an early start just allowed her to take more time on everything she otherwise would do in a haste, and still get the same train as usual. I don't know how important it is to take the usual train. Otherwise, the mysterious stranger wouldn't have found her, at least not at this day?
I imagined that Kim cannot afford to buy another car (or to rent a better apartment), but from your comment to Daniel this isn't actually true. Do we learn something about her job and how well she is payed?
The one closest to her was reading a newspaper, the other was too far down the platform for KC to tell where he were looking. Shouldn't this be "was" (singular)?
There was no reason him to be watching her ... Apparently a word ("for"?) is missing there.
She didn’t have much time to wonder as her train pulled up, blocking her view of the other side of the tracks. You may want to insert a comma between "wonder" and "as", but punctuation is one of my weaker points.
I'm not much into creepily being stalked by a mysterious stranger, and much of this looked just too familiar, so I started to feel like I mostly continued proofreading out of a sense of duty.
As she sat at her desk, KC’s mind wandered. This looks a bit clumsy to me. Maybe you should try "While" instead of "As", or maybe I'm just too afraid of as-eritis.
She was thinking of calling it an early day going home. I'm not sure whether something is missing near the end of this sentence.
Oh, and a warning: if you really change the time Kim was early, like you implied in the answer to J.E., don't forget that The loss of over an hour of sleep was beginning to wear on her. [Yep, folks, that's why another (and a third, and a fourth) read-through may be required.]
... she strode out of the lobby and out into the bright, afternoon sun. I'm not sure whether this comma belongs there, although I can't exactly explain why. It's probably that "afternoon" modifies "sun", but unlike "bright" is not an adjective, so you don't have a list of adjectives that should be separated by commas.
I am sure that the police will not see any danger, and that KC will have to go through this alone. How the stranger managed to appear outside of a twelfth floor window and how he may be connected to the accident are still intriguing questions and may keep me interested for a while, but generally I feel like this story is not made for me.
~Lurky -
Many apologizings for late replies by
on 2017-05-30 21:29:00 UTC
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Thank you for taking the time to do such a thorough reading, especially when this type of story is not to your tastes. It is very much appreciated.
I think I'm pretty good at openings, so I am glad this one worked for you. It helps me to think of it like a movie. You need something sensory (a sound, a smell, a visual) to hook the audience right from the start.
I get your point about too much starting. The word starts to lose all meaning, doesn't it?
Sometimes it takes a while for water to get up to where you want it in these kinds of buildings. KC got lucky she didn't have to fight a neighbor for the hot water (yes, that is a thing that happens). I hadn't even considered that it was a showing-not-telling situation, but I get it now and can use that kind of information in the future.
All SPaG comments duly noted.
You are correct that she would still aim for her usual train. It's out of habit, really.
The car thing depends on how good her auto insurance is, I think. I imagine she got at least a little money from that, though the accident was her own fault. She could probably afford a used car if she wanted one.
I apologize for not warning for this sort of thing. It just didn't occur to me. I would not have faulted you if you had stopped reading.
That is a very good note on the potential time change. Good catch.
As for the police, there is some hesitancy, to be sure. However, there are some strange things going on in the city recently, and one detective is paying attention.
Thank you for sticking with me, here. Your notes were insightful. -
Re: An original piece I wrote years ago, but never finished by
on 2017-05-19 19:50:00 UTC
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I'm having trouble focusing on how the story is made. I keep getting lost in it. Very good.
Kim seems very bothered by having been in a fire.
I find it interesting that she would feel the need to be punished by not driving. That's something that she has control over, unlike the scars and her hair that she seems not to want to think about.
Sorry. I like this story, but I'm having trouble being constructive about it.
I keep wondering about what city she is in, but I have a feeling that it's supposed to be the every-city from the Matrix instead of a specific one. -
Comments and critiques by
on 2017-05-19 21:52:00 UTC
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First off, thank you for taking the time to comment on my story. I greatly appreciate it.
Now, on to your notes:
-I'm glad you like it.
-The "not driving" thing is not a punishment, but a penance. She might be able to get a new car, but she feels she has done something that she needs to atone for, so she chooses to inflict a little discomfort on herself by means of public transit.
-This story takes place in Chicago. There are things that happened in the Prologue that pretty much spell it out, but nothing particularly identifying in the first two chapters.
Beta Critique:
I notice that when you are trying to beta the stories in this thread that you have a tendency to simply state facts about the story. For instance: "Kim seems very bothered by having been in a fire." That is a fact that is fairly well covered in the text and, by itself, is not really a useful comment. It doesn't tell me if you were confused about something or if it made you feel something. It just kind of...is.
So, what I suggest is that you try to follow the facts with questions, or tell the author how that fact made you feel (and if possible why it made you feel that way). Going back to the penance note, where you almost had this already, you could try something like this:
"I find it interesting that Kim would choose to punish herself when her injuries should be punishment enough. Could you make it more clear why she is doing that?"
Or
"It makes me sad that Kim feels the need to punish herself more than she already has been. You would think that she already had enough reminders, with her scars and hair."
So, here's some questions to help you along. "Kim seems very bothered by having been in a fire." What do you still want to know about that? What can I expand upon or make more clear? What does that fact make you feel? -
Comments on Chapter 1 (only). by
on 2017-05-19 15:46:00 UTC
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In no particular order:
-From the way Chapter 1 is written, it seems like KC should be doing everything an hour earlier than normal. She specifically decides to get an early start, and nothing you describe seems like anything she wouldn't do normally. But this seems to drop out later; she says it was 'just like any other morning', even though she is now out at dawn (per the description) instead of an hour after. It's a little thing, I know, but it felt like it was going somewhere... until it didn't.
-It feels like the description of her injuries is inconsistent. It's been months since the crash, but the burns still need gause over them? And yet she hasn't permanently turned the shower down to cooler (possibly this indicates she just has an awful shower). She also doesn't have burns on her face, despite her hair scorching back to something less than shoulder-length.
-I assume the local-news line KC half-hears is relevant in the unwritten portion. It's a fairly classic mode of foreshadowing.
--In fact, 'classic' is a word I'd use to describe the whole piece. A classic nightmare/flashback sequence drifts into a classic sitting-bolt-upright, and then a classic morning montage. You've then got the half-heard news media, the commute during which she sees someone out of place... it all feels like you were deliberately aiming at the feel of a particular genre of movie, and if so, you hit it spot-on.
-Look out for your compound words. I've spotted "work appropriate" (should be 'work-appropriate'), and I'm not flagging up many hyphens on a quick skim of the rest, so I suspect you've missed a few.
-I feel like you sometimes drift into 'too much trivia'. Take a look at this:
KC leaned forward to look up the track for her train. It was just coming around the bend and would reach the station in about a minute. When she turned back, to wait for the train, she felt like someone was watching her. She couldn’t shake the feeling
There's a lot of information in there, but most of it we don't need. What we need to know is that a) the train is coming, and b) KC feels like she's being watched. Something like this: "KC glanced up the track - her train was just coming round the bend - and then turned her attention back to the growing feeling that someone was watching her."
--Actually, your 'she felt like' etc feels... off. It doesn't seem to come from anywhere - it's as if KC just stepped into the next picture in an album. "And this is where I felt like someone was watching me." You've got a few others further up; notably, I don't think she actually walks anywhere in the entire chapter, other than a 'started toward'. (No, I take it back - she 'returns' once.) Still, it feels like... I don't know. Just strange.
--That said, since you're working in third-person limited, this could be a KC trait. It would imply that she's focussing very hard on the Now, to the exclusion of thinking about transitions. She doesn't give off a feeling of changing, because she doesn't want to think about changes - which ties very nicely back to the fire. Checking your second paragraph again, she does seem to be working through frustration at the fact that Then keeps intruding into Now.
-In general, KC comes over as damaged to the point of self-absorption. She's doing her best to pretend the fire never happened - she covers the wounds to keep from feeling them, she cut her hair, she hasn't bought a new car - but along the way she's descended into herself to the point that she doesn't exhibit any emotions at the news, doesn't register the differences in it being an hour earlier, etc etc. She's smothered her feelings about the fire to the point that she's ended up smothering everything else, too.
If that's the sort of thing you're going for, you could definitely heighten it. A simple and sneaky way to do this would be to strip out every emotion, right up until (late in Chapter 2) she sees the stranger again. Cast everything else either as logic, or in the passive voice ("It was as if someone was watching her"). Obviously if you're not aiming at this, then ignore this advice. :) -
Thank you for your comments by
on 2017-05-19 16:42:00 UTC
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In some semblance of order:
-All apartment showers are terrible. It is known.
-I was thinking minor burns on the face, which might be mostly healed by now. The major burns were where her clothing caught fire and her skin was in almost direct contact with the burning material. I should do some more research and see if I can improve this description.
--Also, hair doesn't need to be in direct contact with the flames in order to scorch. Being too close to fire can lose a person their eyebrows without them suffering lasting damage to their skin. That's kind of what I was going for.
-You are right about the hour earlier thing. I think I'll just change it to 10-15 minutes early and have her take a longer shower.
-I'll take classic. Classic is good. This is me trying my hand at the horror/mystery genre. Something like you might find in Supernatural or some Doctor Who.
-You would understand the line from the news if you had been given the Prologue. It involves a man named Samuelson. This does also come into play later.
-Hyphens are hard. I'll have to watch that when I go back to edit.
-"Too much trivia" is a personal failing. I do tend to go on. This is why I need betas; to tell me when I am getting long in the tooth.
-KC does have a tendency to forget that "Then" happens. But she isn't damaged to the point of self-absorption. She was self-absorbed from the start. That's what got her into the accident in the first place. She was driving drunk.
You've given me a lot of really good notes, and a lot of things to think about. I hope you'll have time to go over Chapter 2, as well? If not, no big deal. I appreciate the level of thought and effort that went into what you've already given me. -
New Guy Face (BtVS Xover) by
on 2017-05-16 20:21:00 UTC
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"I know that face!"
Joyce's reverie was interrupted by her daughter's voice. She turned her head, unable to keep the smile off it. "Hello, Mom. How was your day, Mom? I'm just off to clean my room, Mom-"
"Don't think you can get out of it that easily," Buffy said with a wink and a knowing tone to her voice. "I know that face. That right there is a grade-A, accept-no-substitutes, 100% new guy face. So c'mon, spill!"
"New guy face, huh?" Joyce tried to humour her daughter for a moment, and then gave up, peals of laughter echoing through the room.
"Mom, what's so funny-"
"Nothing, sweetie, nothing. You're right, though, there's someone new in my life."
Buffy squeaked with glee and hugged her mother. "Yay! So, who is he? Tell me all about him."
"Well, they're about my height, dark hair, strong eyes - they really are lovely eyes - my age or thereabouts. Divorced because the ex's idea of a dream home was a shotgun shack in a desert in Australia, oh, and their voice, that accent-"
Buffy pounced. "Accent? Mom, did you get with the hot pool boy?"
Joyce kept giggling; Buffy didn't mind. She couldn't. The last time her Mom had been this happy, well... she couldn't really remember. "Honey, if we wanted a pool boy, we'd have to get a pool first."
"Hey, I can dream. So, keep going, what's the accent?"
"British. Veeeeeery British."
Buffy went pale. "Giles? Mom, he's, like, made of tweed!"
"It's not Rupert, although he's a lovely man who I'm sure will make some lucky woman a lovely filing cabinet someday. Come on, they're in the kitchen right now."
Intrigued to the point of barely suppressed oooohs, Buffy walked into the kitchen after her Mom, in which sat-
"Oh, hello. You must be Buffy! Joyce has told me so much about you..."
Buffy looked at the mid-sized, dark-haired British woman. They were really nice eyes, now that she looked, but there was something else there -
"Your old mom's got a few surprises in her yet, you know."
"I... yeah. You, uh, you sure do, Mom! Uh... hey."
"Hello! Yes. Sorry. Um." Ah, thought Buffy, the Giles is strong with this one. Wait, why does this feel so, um, normal? "Sorry. It's just... she'd be about your age now."
Oh. That was it.
"Sorry, where are my manners!" The woman stood up, proffering a hand to shake. "Monica. Monica Wilkins."
---
AN:-
'"Their names are Wendell and Monica Wilkins, and it's been their lifelong ambition to move to Australia," said Hermione. "And... they don't have any children."'
(Paraphrased from memory) -
Well, that was confusing. by
on 2017-05-21 11:00:00 UTC
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The main reason is probably that I know next to nothing about Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Since I couldn't recognize speech patterns or the general ways Buffy and her mother interact with each other, I had a hard time figuring out what happened in the first paragraphs. Joyce mimicking what her daughter should have said, I got relatively fast, but I kept wondering what Buffy was looking at when she said, "I know that face!" while her mother's new friend was out of sight. It actually took me three reads to realize that of course it is Joyce's face that gives it away. I may just be stupid.
I still wonder what Joyce was doing there, being lost in reverie in the entrance hall or living room while her friend-of-yet-undetermined-gender is sitting alone in the kitchen? But I don't know Joyce, so this may just be what she would do.
So, Hermione Granger's plan to keep her parents save backfired when she neglected to give them both the same kind of dream about living in Australia. I never thought of this possibility, and I only got the stealthy hint on second read. I would like to know why Monica moved to what's-the-place-where-Buffy-lives-again? Surfer's Paradise? Does it match what Monica initially expected when she moved to Australia? I hope we will hear more about that in coming chapters. If we do, the first foreshadowing being so stealthy that it could easily be overlooked is a good adaptation of Rowling's style.
"Hello! Yes. Sorry. Um."
This is a remarkable break from Monica's previous lines and I'm not yet sure how it is justified. Monica adapting to how Buffy speaks? Actually seeing Buffy after only having heard about her yet triggered a memory that confused Monica? If Hermione did not do something else wrong, Monica should not remember that she should have a daughter of Buffy's age. Did she remember before she met Buffy? (BTW, inserting Buffy's thoughts there didn't help to get that Monica is speaking.)
I actually have a vague idea of who Rupert Giles is (from looking through reviews on "Mark watches", to get an impression of what the show is about without watching it myself), but some references may have gone straight over my head. Anyway, there is definitely something going on with meeting Monica feeling so natural to Buffy. Will we find out that Buffy is actually Hermione-after-losing-her-memory? Since this was too easy to guess, finding out something totally different would be more interesting, but finding out what happened to Monica and Wendelll Wilkins would be interesting anyway.
This may be a good start for a BtVS x HP crossover, but currently there is not yet enough of it for me to tell.
~Lurky -
a review with spoilers by
on 2017-05-19 13:40:00 UTC
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I'm not up-to-date on my Buffy canon, only up through season four. From my perspective in the timeline, I'd say you have Joyce's voice down absolutely perfectly, but Buffy's, I'm not so sure of. The last I remember of Joyce doing any dating, Buffy was rather resistant to it, so it feels a bit off for her to be supportive and encouraging about this. Then again, part of her reservations in that episode were sensing something wrong with Joyce's boyfriend, and again, my lack of newest info in the canon may make this criticism irrelevant. I do think the overall interaction, with Joyce teasing Buffy with information and playing on her assumptions, is spot-on between the two of them.
I did catch the neutral pronoun usage, so I guessed the reveal early on. (Although my very first initial guess was that Joyce had gotten a pet of some kind, until I reached the phrase, "about my height.") More importantly, though, I think your characterization of Buffy, not noticing the pronoun game and failing to imagine her mom as interested in women, is true to Buffy's direct and stubborn mind in canon. And again, after the reveal, the dialogue between Joyce and Buffy feels right for the way they tend to interact in the show. Buffy's reaction to her mom being bisexual is realistic, and Joyce acting proud and just slightly smug feels right, too.
I was initially pretty confused by the choice of Hermione's mom. (Do we seriously not have a name for the parents of one of the Golden Trio? I'll just call her Granger here.) Then I thought I understood it better, but just now realized I'm still at least a bit confused. The fact that Granger introduces herself as "Monica" seems to indicate that this is taking place during Deathly Hallows, when Granger's mind has been charmed by her daughter. If that's the case, though, Granger shouldn't have any memory of her daughter, and also calls to question where her husband is. This made me briefly think that this is meant to be an AU where Granger lost her daughter young and left her husband, except Hermione was the source of that name—unless you're using that name as a stand-in because SERIOUSLY HOW DO HERMIONE'S PARENTS NOT HAVE NAMES. Except, then you would go Monica Granger, since we do know the surname, at least . . . Ultimately, the confusion caused by these details, as well as the suddenness and brevity of the closing paragraphs, weakens the ending for me. I suppose if this were an actual, published fanfic, there would be a continuation where the reader could glean more details, or at least an author's note explaining how Granger got here. As it is, it feels like a quickly thought-out twist to throw on the end for the sake of a surprise.
Also, Buffy's thoughts in the middle of Granger's dialogue should be moved to their own paragraph. -
Re: New Guy Face (BtVS Xover) by
on 2017-05-18 08:04:00 UTC
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"I know that face!"
Joyce's reverie was interrupted by her daughter's voice. She turned her head, unable to keep the smile off it. "Hello, Mom. How was your day, Mom? I'm just off to clean my room, Mom-"
This did get me the first couple of times I read it. I thought it was Buffy sucking up. That maybe she was in trouble again. So the next line was jarring. I would suggest changing said to interrupted. I know said is the most invisible dialogue tag, but in this case it might help make things smoother for your readers.
"Don't think you can get out of it that easily," Buffy said with a wink and a knowing tone to her voice. "I know that face. That right there is a grade-A, accept-no-substitutes, 100% new guy face. So c'mon, spill!"
I don't believe it is absolutely wrong to use a number here, but I would spell it out as one hundred percent.
"Oh, hello. You must be Buffy! Joyce has told me so much about you..."
Buffy looked at the mid-sized, dark-haired British woman. They were really nice eyes, now that she looked, but there was something else there -
this is an extreme nitpick, but it might read smoother as 'They really were nice eyes...'
"Your old mom's got a few surprises in her yet, you know."
"I... yeah. You, uh, you sure do, Mom! Uh... hey."
"Hello! Yes. Sorry. Um." Ah, thought Buffy, the Giles is strong with this one. Wait, why does this feel so, um, normal? "Sorry. It's just... she'd be about your age now."
I am having trouble following this bit. Monica is articulate in her greeting to Buffy. Buffy is taken aback by her mom's quite sudden announcement that she is interested in women, but she's rolling with it. Then Monica says hello for a second time, only now she is stammering. Then a thought from Buffy is inserted in the middle of Monica's dialogue. Then Monica finishes up with what I believe indicates that she remembers having Hermione, but perhaps thinks her daughter is dead. These three things should be separated out into three paragraphs, so you don't have more than one person's input in a paragraph.
Oh. That was it.
I thought the comment about Giles was directed toward his tendency to stammer a bit, but this doesn't go with that thought at all. I never managed to get through the last season and a half of Buffy, did we find out that Giles had a child that he lost? I don't remember him ever mentioning that he did. Buffy understanding that Monica has lost someone is good, but as is seems to relate to the comment about Giles.
Overall, this is a nice little story. I think Buffy's voice is right in line with canon. The story raises more questions than it answers, so if I stumbled across this on a fic site, I would hope that it was the first chapter, or the first section of a longer fic. How did Monica get to the US? Why didn't she just go home? How does she remember Hermione? Why did her husband stay under the spell that compelled them to Australia? Lots of questions, which are never a bad thing -
Re: New Guy Face (BtVS Xover) by
on 2017-05-17 21:14:00 UTC
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I picked up on the use of "they" and knew that Buffy's mom was dating a woman.
I saw the movie and was aware that there was a show, but didn't watch much.
It's a little jarring that Buffy is saying "I'm just going to clean my room, mom." and then switches to wanting to talk about why her mother is smiling. -
With regards to your third point: by
on 2017-05-17 22:08:00 UTC
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That's not Buffy speaking, but Joyce. She's doing the thing that parents do when their kid asks them a question.