Saturday, 2 June 2012

Oh, my oh my.......

Why did I write that ^ ? I dont know.

It fits in my mind, I guess.

Now, down to business. I will have to address two things. Two little small things.

First - COMMENT. I really don't learn about my mistakes in my writing if you don't COMMENT. Tell your friends to come and read this weird blog, and tell them to COMMENT. Thank you.

Second - I realise my writing style might look weird. Well thats cause it is. You see, I write the chapter, then I check for spelling mistakes, and then I move on. This blog is where I literally just throw down my writing creativity and practice the art of making words show stories. Get it? This is just me practicing, while I write my REAL book. Comprende?

Now. I do believe you deserve a chapter after that harsh scolding.


Chapter Eight: Old-Bony-People-Of-Little-Meat

“I can fade. My body and anything I concentrate on will fade, become ethereal.” Vlaedr and Skai walked down the corridor, Skai recounting his adventures. “And so, I heard the sound before you did, and had already reacted.”

Sorrow crossed his face and he stopped, turning to Vlaedr. “I have been mourning your death ever since. Nothing I have ever heard of could survive something like that. Nothing.” 

A smile crossed his face. “But you seem anything like something no one has heard of.”

Vlaedr blushed, not used to this sort of affection. Skai continued walking. “I went down two floors before I reached a non-volcanic corridor. Whoever wanted us dead, has resources and a reason to keep us away from Rio De Janeiro. We have to find out who this is.”

“Don’t these types of bad guys always have resources? AND a reason to keep other good guys away?” Vlaedr asked, dryly.

Skai laughed. “You are new to this world, and yet you already start noticing patterns. That is good. Like a newborn, starting to learn how to take its first steps in this new world.”

Vlaedr frowned. “You just called me a baby. A baby that is learning to walk. That is seriously condescending.”

Skai lead the way through two, large double-doors, and into a grand hall. Massive pillars rose to the ceiling, with a plush, long carpet leading down the hall to three rather “grand” thrones. On those thrones, sat three old and.... “grand”-looking mages.

“The Grand Mages of this Santuary?” Vlaedr muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Yes.” Skai shot back, as they walked towards them.

“I would never have guessed...” Vlaedr muttered again, dreading another long talk with old-bony-people-of-little-meat. Grand Mages. He reminded himself. They are called Grand Mages, not old-bony-people-of-little-meat.

Two hours, four cups of coffee, three and a half dinners, and one car later, they were on their way.

The Sanctuary had provided them with a rental car, clothes, food (no people), and communication-device-speaker-things. Skai called them “phones”. Whatever that meant.

“So. Bad guy = Scimitar Yslock?

Motive = Is building magical creatures to rule Earth?

Supporting Detail =  Used to work with Varoque?!

Complication = Wants ME???!!!”

Vlaedr thought about his words for a few moments.

“Yes, sadly yes, and Hell YEAH.” Skai confirmed. He turned into a brighter neighbourhood, weaving in-between pedestrians in the street, dancing and celebrating something. Brazilians always seemed to celebrate something.

“So why the HELL did he try to kill me and you? Is he an extremely stupid bad guy?” Vlaedr asked, grumpy. The dancers resembled cocktail snacks. The type he had seen in that wonderful club.

“No, as it turns out, he is actually pretty smart. He needs a powerful army of supernatural creatures to kill and do his bidding, probably met with strong resistance. How better to test your abilities than to see if you survived that explosion? If you had died, then you wouldn’t have been very useful to him.”

“Yes, being dead does that to you.” Vlaedr muttered angrily, refusing to make “being Mr. Know-It-All” easy for Skai.

“You know, you never did tell me your whole story. Who Varoque is and what you are....” Skai said, finally breaking free of the crowd and turning down a street with little coffee-shops.

“If I told you my whole story, I would have no secrets. I like keeping secrets. It makes me feel mysterious and powerful. Plus, neither have you.” Vlaedr growled. He just noticed that all the little coffee-shops seemed to consist of old-bony-people-of-little-meat. And he was hungry. AGAIN.

Skai smiled and turned to say something to Vlaedr. Then the car suddenly decided to do a barrel-roll, followed by head-spin.

Vlaedr roared and kicked the warped door into a coffee-shop, sending the old-bony-people-of-little-meat scattering. “STOP BLOWING STUFF UP AROUND ME! IT ANNOYS ME!”

Another explosion, right in front of Vlaedr’s feet. Vlaedr went crashing into a coffee-shop behind him. He felt a shard of hot metal follow his trajectory, twisting to the side as it passed. An edge caught him on the cheek, slicing from his chin, over the edge of his mouth, and up his cheek.

Skai appeared in front of Vlaedr, and helped him up. Vlaedr felt at his cheek, a sharp pain immediately registering as he touched the wide, cauterized slit. Vlaedr roared so loudly, the remaining windows in the shop blew out. Skai went flying, as Vlaedr pushed him aside.

“THE GLOVES ARE OFF! I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF BEING PUSHED AROUND!” And so, off came the gloves. Or the ring.

The creature raised it large head, gazing up with hatred, in the form of glowing green eyes. He found the petty meat-snack, way up high, standing on one of the roofs with a long cylinder weapon. Vlaedr smelled fear.

He bounded forward on all fours, running to the base of the building that held the prey. A flash of light and another explosive object came flying his way. But this time, a lot slower. Vlaedr jumped straight up, snapping shut his massive jaws on to the flaming object. He landed on his hind-legs, and grabbed the object with his paw, sending it flying back to its maker.

The prey moved too slowly. Way too slow.

A chunk of the roof was torn out of the building, sending it, and the prey, plummeting down. Vlaedr was already moving. He was in the cloud of asphalt falling towards the ground, grabbing his prey around the chest. He landed and shook his head, throwing the pathetic hunter into a car.

A flashing-light-car came speeding up to Vlaedr, smacking him backwards. But Vlaedr had enough. He flipped in his backwards motion, landing in a crouch, moving before the car even stopped moving. Digging in with his claws, Vlaedr hit the car with a great force, making a massive dent. Vlaedr roared again, a fearful thing of anger and hunger. Then he grabbed under the bonnet and strained with all his strength.

The car rose into the air.

He roared again, triumph shining in his eyes. Then, with a final heave, the car flew backwards, through the third-floor window of one of the coffee-shops. “No!” Skai shouted, coughing as he made his way out of one of the buildings. He was ignored.

Vlaedr slowly padded back towards the motionless figure; the hunter. As he came closer, the human opened its eyes and emitted a moan. Vlaedr was mesmerized the way the human froze as he neared it, and the dread that seeped into his eyes. He opened his jaws wide, letting the human see every single gleaming tooth he had.

“NO!!!” It was Skai again. This time Vlaedr turned. “Vlaedr, where are you? This isn’t Vlaedr. I know it isn’t! Where is your humanity?! You are letting your  Beast control you!”

The Beast fought a bit more, but Vlaedr always had more control. More strength. His eyes dimmed to a glow. Then he slowly nodded his thanks to Skai. Skai sighed, and walked over to the dying man. Vlaedr padded off to find his ring.

A strange burning swarmed Vlaedr as he put on the ring. He frowned as he straightened his clothes and pulled out the larger chunks of shrapnel. Something isn’t right. He thought. He heard Skai talking to the man. I’ll worry about it later.

He walked slowly to the pair, as his battered body began healing. He felt his cheek, the way the hot metal had cut deep but immediately burned its path shut. It was painful, and something that his healing wouldn’t heal. Ever.

A Battle Scar. He liked that idea.

But even though everything was in control, and the battle won, something still felt  horribly wrong.
I love the name of this chapter.

And how it sets in motion the horrible ending.....

And for the love of talking skeletons and flaming mockingjays, COMMENT!



    Love the old-bony-people-of-little-meat thing:)

    I think you captured the violence and mercilessness in that very well.

    Foreboding sense of foreboding at the end. If that makes sense.

    I have a feeling this comment is another random one . . .

    OH YES - before I forget, could you PLEASE attempt to take the word verification off???

  2. Just read the penultimate sentence again and - HORRIBLE ENDING??? :S

    That does not sound good . . .

    NO! IT'S ENDING! NO! :'(