Subject: Then I Rewrote it Anyways
Author:
Posted on: 2011-08-20 05:20:00 UTC
Yeah, I was bored and couldn't sleep, so I did a rewrite. It's a bit longer than the original draft, and I've changed the characters around a bit, but hopefully it's got fewer half-baked ideas and more well-done ones.
Here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vewhraEjtbuezCE5LGuisPk23VLlBhuE6agGbxCQqEw/edit?hl=en_US
So this is a bit of a new idea, coming somewhat out of The Survey and somewhat out of My Own Deranged Mind. Let's see how it goes.
Here at the PPC we're very big on writing. We write missions, we rant about the bad writing in badfics, we even play games like Fill The Plothole, which consist of, yep, writing. But at no point do we all sit down and try to improve our writing together.
So. The objective of the Monthly PPC Writing Challenge is to write a short story to a set theme, and then give useful, constructive criticism to other participants. The Rules:
-You do not have to have Permission to take part.
-However, nothing written for the Challenge is considered part of the PPC Canon unless you do have Permission, and explicitly claim it as canon.
-Because of this, entries do not have to be consistent with PPC Canon or with each other.
-All responses should be kept to this thread.
-No flaming!
-The objective is to write a good story, and receive feedback from the rest of the community. If you want to rewrite based on that feedback, go ahead, but it's not required.
-Equally, if you write a story, try to give feedback to at least one other player.
-Stick to the theme, and keep it pretty short.
-You can use a beta, but it's not required.
I think that's the main points. So, the Challenge for August is:
It is a thousand years in the future. The PPC is unrecognisable to those who knew it in its early days, spread across worlds and universes - but it still retains some memory of its origins. Write one of the legends held among the PPC's descendants of the earliest years of the PPC - the days up until 2011. (Inspired by this)
Remember - consistency with the inspiration, each other, or the actual history of the PPC is not a requirement.
Also, for this month only: if you have any suggestions for future Challenges, please give them to me. If I have to think them up every month, this won't be a very long ongoing thing.
Oh, and most importantly - have fun!
hS
"The PPC is unrecognisable to those who knew it in its early days" I sort of took the idea of things being completely different and ran with it. Here's my story. Sorry it's kind of long. (~1700 words) Entry
Excellent! I love all the little details you add in such a nonchalant way, like Harry Potter being a religion, but also that the interaction/friendship/romantic feelings between Yuri and Oprah feels so normal.
There were a couple of spots where names were misspelled (Luxary and Accia) but I'm not sure if that was intentional?
"You're joking."
"No, I'm not. I don't joke, Tarin, you know that."
"Well, yeah, but-- Really, Mer?" Tarin looked skeptically at her friend, who sighed, and then motioned at the stasis chambers before him.
"Okay, so, in 2012, everyone was going nutso about the supposed apocalypse, right?"
"Right." Tarin remembered that from her history lessons, and had always thought that was stupid. Besides, everyone knew the apocalypse was going to happen in the year 5000. Duh.
"So, a couple agents volunteered to go into stasis in case anything actually happened and they had to rebuild society. Among them was my umpteen-times great grandma. Dad used to take me down here and tell me the story about how she volunteered, and how her partner raised her son after that," Mer said, relishing his captive audience.
"So why didn't they unfreeze her after the apocalypse didn't happen?" Tarin asked, frowning a bit.
"Because the tech was so experimental, all they could do was keep an eye on the agents' vitals and hope for the best," Mer replied, shrugging. "That's why it's a part of Medical now."
Tarin regarded the young woman in the chamber before her with an appraising eye. She didn't look over twenty-five, and was dressed in all brown. "So," she asked, "what was her name?"
"Mal. Her name was Mal."
"Cool. Hey, do you think she can hear us?" Tarin tapped on the glass door, jumping back when a holographic overlay popped up under her fingers.
Mitochondrial genetic access key accepted. Now opening stasis chamber seven, droned a robotic voice. Tarin and Mer exchanged panicked looks and then turned back to the stasis chamber, where the glass door was sliding open. A flash of bright light and a high pitched whine signaled the deactivation of the stasis field, and the chamber's occupant stumbled out, her first breath turning into a sudden cough as she breathed for the first time in a thousand years.
Mer caught Mal as she stumbled over herself, and then gently lowered her to the floor so she could catch her breath. Mal looked up at Mer and Tarin with a bleary-eyed gaze, and then spoke, her voice shaky.
"D-did it work?" she stuttered, raising one shaky hand to her head. "Is ev-everyone okay?"
Tarin and Mer looked at one another. They were so going to get in trouble for this.
The piece is very well put together. At first, I didn't buy Agents Mal (knowing what I do about her character) as the sort of individual who would give up her family so easily. But then I figured that, in a way, she may have seen this as being a mother figure to the entire PPC in a way. Her protective nature would have been ideal in rebuilding society.
There are two things about this story that keep sticking in my craw. First off: why would the PPC be concerned about 2012? I could see a few of the crazier agents getting all worked up about an old prophecy, but the entire organization? Not sure I buy that.
Secondly, they couldn't unfreeze Mal because the tech was too experimental? I definitely don't buy that. The PPC theoretically has access to every piece of technology from every work of fiction ever created. Something as basic as cryogenics should not make DoSAT throw up their hands and say 'Let the future sort it out!' The scenario would make more sense with a less technologically-developed group. I could see this scenario working with Star Trek or Fallout or even an original story. Not so much with the PPC.
Wow, I kinda went off on a tear there. Anyway, good technical piece, but I really couldn't accept some of the basic concepts you were laying down.
Newly-made Agent Rachel Baryn was overjoyed as she made her way down the corridors of PPC HQ to the Portal Room, where she would be teleported to her new partner. "Ooh, this is so *exciting*!" she squealed. "I'm an *Agent* now and I'm going to fight *badfic* and everything's going to be so *fun*..."
"Newbies," an older man said in disgust as he emerged from his RC.
Rachel was filled with righteous indignation as she drew herself up to her full height. "Everyone has to start somewhere! Besides, who are you to condemn me for enthusiasm?"
"Someone who's seen everything, kid," the older Agent said, his voice sounding very tired. "Once you've sporked your first badfic and nearly got killed, all that enthusiasm will be gone."
Rachel folded her arms, mentally writing him off as a disillusioned pessimist. "This *will* be fun. Besides, the PPC's safe as houses now."
The older Agent laughed sardonically. "Safe? Are you joking?"
Rachel was confused. "But it is! With everything Makes-Things has built, there's no danger at all!"
The older Agent shook his head. "That's what they want you to think. Newbies like you get the worst of it- half the newbies get killed or maimed in their first mission. They walk in, fresh out of Basic Training and full of enthusiasm, and then they do everything by the handbook and get killed because it doesn't tell them to duck. Kid, if you want to survive in this place, wise up. You need to keep calm, make sure you know what's happening and always, always know where the Sue is."
Rachel was shaken. "Half the newbies?"
"I might be exaggerating a little," he replied. "This place used to be so much better, before we expanded."
"Really?" Rachel asked, intrigued despite what he'd just told her.
"More dangerous, but," he said. "But they took better care of the newbies. Still, it wasn't like people didn't get hurt, or killed- and it wasn't just the newbies. You heard the stories about Agent Dafydd?"
Rachel nodded instantly. Along with Jay, Acacia, Makes-Things, Laburnum, Foxglove, Trojanhorse, Paddlebrains, Tasmin, Allison, Tawaki, Suicide and a handful of others, the elven Agent had become legendary.
"He got killed when he went into Celebrian."
Rachel let out a squeak at the name of one of the Legendary Badfics.
"They sent four agent pairs into Subjugation. Nobody knows what happened to Cameo, Gunny and Wayne vanished, Rez and Flip went into hiding, Suicide and Diocletian did the same and Supernumerary was the only one to make it out. The PPC isn't safe. Don't make the mistake of thinking it is, or you'll get killed."
"But didn't Dafydd kill himself just to kill the fic?" Rachel asked.
The older man nodded. "And then he got brought back to life. That's why he's legendary. Nobody sporked badfic like him."
Rachel opened her mouth to reply when her watch chimed. She looked down and the message scrolling across its screen informed her that if she didn't get a move on, she'd be late. "Oh! I have to go!"
The older man nodded. "Good luck, kid. Just remember, keep your eyes open. It'll keep you alive."
Rachel nodded and took off at a run, ready to begin her new life.
I have a fun idea, and I began writing it, but holy crap did it get out of control! You seem to be looking for ficlets, but mine just passed two pages and I've only just begun. Ah well, maybe next time.
... the front page, go for it anyway. ;) It's not like this is a competition - the only problem with writing a long fic is that people might run out of steam on their concrit. So go for it!
hS
“You know how it started, don’t you?”
Arvin paused awkwardly, his hand fidgeting with the sonic screwdriver it held. He had been about to sit back down to his desk covered in malfunctioning CADs when the older man had spoken. As much as Arvin would have liked to get back to work, he supposed he owed it to Voctor Kamras to at least stop and hear what he had to say. After all, most of what Arvin knew he owed to Voctor’s careful training, back when a plothole had plucked the young Argivian out of his proper time and place and stranded him in the PPC’s original headquarters. Arvin placed his screwdriver down and leaned against the desk, watching the other technician.
Voctor relaxed as well, straightening his arms a bit before continuing. “You remember when you first arrived in part of the PPC?”
Arvin nodded. “In the museum.”
“Yes, the museum. Back then, that was the whole PPC. And that was where it first happened. The Mysterious Somebody.” Voctor started to smooth his hair away from his forehead, but seemed to think better of it and let his arm drop. “Three agents—very idiotic, susceptible to mind tricks—brought him back from my home continuum. A Sith Lord, lad, can you imagine?”
Saying nothing, Arvin continued to stare over Voctor’s shoulder.
“And all because agents were foolish enough to recruit characters from out of badfics back then! The Mysterious Somebody was the worst thing—the greatest disaster—to ever threaten the PPC. Certainly, there were others, though none as bad as the MS. And they were ALL badfic recruits. It’s amazing how long it took the Flowers to instate our current policy of only recruiting background canons from outside the influence of badfics. The chance is always present that we’ll wind up with Somebody Else just as bad.” Voctor looked up at the ceiling, a bit longingly.
“That is, after all, why we’ve installed all the departments on different worlds now. As you know, we at DoSAT are currently in the former headquarters of the Men in Black, which was disbanded after the existence of aliens became common knowledge to the population of this world. The DMS is, appropriately enough, in a formerly unsettled area of Middle-earth. Crossovers is stationed in Twilight Town in the Kingdom Hearts universe, and Bad Slash is in the old St. Mungo’s, before it was combined with that Muggle hospital. We can accept applicants directly, and simply kill all the characters encountered in any badfic. It’s much safer all around.”
Arvin hung his head. “I know all this already.” After a pause, he added, “Sir.”
“Oh. Yes. Of course, lad!” Voctor chuckled in embarrassment. “I only meant—well, I wanted you to know that I’m proud of you for doing this. You must always be watchful for that next Somebody Else. And you mustn’t trust anyone…not even me.” Voctor gave a small smile, but Arvin didn’t see it.
He couldn’t bring himself to raise his head, to look his long-time tutor in the eye as the Weeds who had been restraining Voctor pulled him to the door and led him away.
Nice presentation. I like the fact that you didn't spell out the entire background story - sometimes the best stories are merely implied. It did get a bit info-dump-y in the middle - as a rule, any paragraph starting "As you know" is a warning sign. It feels like that information could have been worked in more gently - but then, part of the point here is that the story takes place in a very short space of time. I like the coining of Somebody Else - very evocative! - and you portray Arvin's emotions very well, particularly in the last two paragraphs. It's a shame you left that 'awkwardly' in the opening paragraph, actually - you did such a good job of eliminating adverbs elsewhere and showing us through body language what Arvin was feeling. I like it.
hS
Thank you! The info-dumpy paragraph seemed necessary to show how this alternate history fit in with the "spread across worlds and universes" part of the prompt. I still think it adds to the things-have-changed feeling of this particular alternate future. It also allowed me to contrast the PPC with some of the worlds it was once connected to—negatively. The Men in Black are no longer needed to keep aliens secret; the Muggle and Wizarding worlds are coexisting on some level of harmony, or at least cooperation. But the PPC has gone the other direction, becoming more xenophobic and physically divided within itself.
Anyway, I've made a few tweaks based on you suggestions. Final version will appear here: http://doctorlit.dreamwidth.org/2051.html
(But of course, feedback from others will still be taken into consideration.)
In the Great Years, before the death of Bast and the onset of the Urple Tide, a man arose among the PPC named Jared, called the Slayer. And it is told that, tempted by the goddess Luxury, Lady of Lust, he fell upon the maiden Traf and, in madness and love, devoured her. Now when the Gods heard this they were filled with wrath, but the Sub Rosa, who sees all, beseeches them that they send not forth Jay and Acacia to crush his skull and rend his flesh, but that they should prepare three labours for this man, that thereby he might redeem himself. And the Gods thought this good. "For lo," said Constance, Mother of All, "I would not see my child torn to shreds unnecessarily, and besides, it is traditional."
Then it was that the Blossoming One himself appeared to Jared the Slayer. And the first task the Sunflower Official laid before him was this: to retrieve the Three Holy Weapons from the Sues of the Mysterious Somebody – the Canon Cannon, the Book of Fandom, and the Most Holy Hat.
Long and hard Jared sought the Canon Cannon, in the wild places of deep time, until at the last he reached the lair of the foul Piratate. And fierce was their battle and many were the blows, but once only did the Piratate's Glance strike Jared, that he was filled with a lust for all women, and in return he smote her seven times, so that she died. And thus the Slayer returned the Canon Cannon to the PPC.
Now the power of the Canon Cannon is this: that by it men might travel the multiverse at will. And thus it is called the Portal, the Ready Advance. And by its power did Jared search long and hard for the Book of Fandom, in the wild places of deep improbability, until at last he reached the lair of the Slashing Demon. And fierce was their battle and many were the blows, but once only did the Demon's Gaze strike Jared, that he loved rather men than women, and in return he smote it seven times, so that it died. And thus the Slayer returned the Book of Fandom to the PPC.
Now the power of the Book of Fandom is this: that by it men may see the thoughts of their enemies even at a distance. And thus it is called the Words, the Cunning Attentive Device. And by its power did Jared search long and hard for the Most Holy Hat, in the wild places of deep unconsciousness, until at last he reached the lair of the Lego. And fierce was their battle and many were the blows, but only once did the Lego's Lovers strike Jared, that he loved no longer men nor women but became a Misogynistic Pig, and in return he smote him seven times, so that he died. And thus the Slayer returned the Most Holy Hat to the PPC.
Now the power of the Most Holy Hat is this: that by it men may change their form and move in secret. And thus it is called the Disguise Generator, the Disquieting Oracle of Randomly Kinked Sight. And now the Blossoming One appeared again to Jared and said, "You have done well. Hear now your second labour."
And Jared said, "No."
And the Sunflower Official said, "What?"
And Jared said, "That was three weapons, so it was three labours. Do the maths."
And the Sunflower Official said, "Hang on a minute-"
But Jared the Slayer donned the Most Holy Hat and became disguised, and he fired the Canon Cannon and left that place, and he read the Book of Fandom and knew the thoughts of Jay and Acacia, and the Gods could not catch him. And it is said that, if he has not died, he lives still.
I love that you keep almost the entire story in a Beowulf/Tales of Beedle the bard style, and then suddenly have Jared break it right at the end. And, especially, the last line.
Here it is: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1lI82J0EdHETXGsURXkF2LKsGO58JVmiiXuJAcxgFT04/edit?pli=1&hl=en_US
Other challenges: Maybe Tales from the Mirror Universe?
I like it! You do a brilliant job of shaping a world in very few words, and the twist at the end is pure PPC. Some of the language is a bit tangled for my head - 'solidifying his personality into a quantum-adaptive shell that the Department of Extreme Measures could use' lost me the first three times, I'm afraid (ie, until this very moment I was about to ask what exactly Quantifying was), and there's a bit of a name-flood regarding the Overlay - but I like it a lot. They're believable as agents, and it's a reasonably believable future. It actually (and this is neither good nor bad) feels a bit like a classic mission in places - the action in the corridor takes a bit of a back seat to the agents' dialogue. Or maybe that's just because of how late it is here...
hS
Yeah, I was bored and couldn't sleep, so I did a rewrite. It's a bit longer than the original draft, and I've changed the characters around a bit, but hopefully it's got fewer half-baked ideas and more well-done ones.
Here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vewhraEjtbuezCE5LGuisPk23VLlBhuE6agGbxCQqEw/edit?hl=en_US
One of the problems with your first draft was audience accessibility. You dropped so much technobabble and odd references that an attempts at a casual read-through are defeated very quickly. While you should not, of course, try to appeal to everyone equally, you need to ensure that your writing appeals to a larger audience than just the hardcores.
This second version does an excellent job of countering all of the confusion of the first, which I applaud you for. There are still a few references that most people are definitely not going to get (I had to look up things like Lumengrid and Phyrexia) but a few of those shout-outs scattered here and there are okay.
All in all, this showed a great deal of progress. Kudos!
Yeah. The quantum-adaptive shell is an idea I've toyed around with in a few contexts- basically, the idea is that alters the surface reality of an agent based on the perception of those around them, making them invisible to canons and non-canons alike; they don't expect to see an Agent, so the shell permits them to not see one. The next logical step, then, would be taking this substance and building a being out of it. I used it here because "PPC a thousand years in the future" is the only setting I've ever used conceivably advanced enough to have it.
Unfortunately, I wasn't paying attention and was too interested in my idea to realize how much explaining it required; it might work in a full-length story, but it's too in-depth to put in a short. Likewise, everything I used in there was derived from MTG- again, a bit too far from the mainstream to not require large amounts of exposition that (frankly) I haven't the word count for.
Ah well, I'll do better next time.