Apprentices discussion

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I wrote this right after my friend died, so I was feeling pretty gloomy. This is the pruduct of my gloom. Hope you like it!

-THE LAST GOODNIGHT-

CHAPTER 1- Opposites attract

There are many different ways to steal. You can rob a bank, you can hack into a money account and transfer the money to your own account electronically, you can burglarize someone’s home, or you might try mugging someone. Although that can turn messy in mere seconds. No, these work fine for average people but Jake was skilled. Jake’s favorite style was old fashioned pick pocketing. It had its own dangers, but so does everything else. He was good. No, he was beyond good, he was one of the best. It came naturally to him. Jake’s father, Jake called him Ray, had virtually abandoned him, only giving him any regard on special occasions. If he remembered those special occasions at all. He had learned how to hold his own, and profit while doing it. He created and specialized in his own techniques and picked up on new ones he saw in play.

Jake and Ray lived in a average house, Ray made his money by working for an insurance agency. Jake knew it wasn’t a creative job, but it gave himself certain resources, like subtle hiding places for his loot Ray could never find, and enough money to live on if pickings were dry. Mac was Jake’s best friend and one of his only friends. Mac knew all about Jake’s criminal escapades. Mac was a geek in every stereotype of the word. Curly, red hair, collar shirt and tie, total brain. Drastic in contrast to his friend, only friend, who had black, straight hair, and t-shirt and jeans, casual. No one could ever guess what brought those two together, not even they themselves .

Jake was late for the bus and he knew it. He careened out of the house backpack sprawling pencils and ran up the stairs of the bus. He sat by Mac and took a deep breath. “Whew!” Jake gasped. “I almost didn’t make it.””Just like last week and the week before that.” Mac replied, with a pointed look at the almost empty backpack he was grasping tightly to his chest. Jake and Mac were just about the same age, both 14. You might think that since they were racking up years and possibly experience, they might be better prepared. Unfortunately, teenage boys apparently skim over all this and have the leash of a young adult, yet the common, or not so common reasoning of a toddler.

“Were we supposed to have homework?” “We have had homework since we were in elementary school Jake,” Mac said “it might help to have some, one of these days.” “Right.” Jake replied with a dismissive look on his glowering face. Jake had OK grades, but he didn’t really have the needed attention for school. Mac chuckled silently to himself. Mac had a great friend but he had no skills whatsoever at school. Mac filled in the gaps for Jake, mostly just not getting him suspended for NEVER bringing in ANY homework. Mac had his own friends but Jake was by far the most interesting friend Mac had.

Mac had never met a pickpocket who was so young, well Mac had never actually met another pickpocket, but that's beside the point. Jake was probably the best pickpocket his age, out there.

CHAPTER 2- Resume'
Mac and Jake had all but two classes together, history and art. Mac was a true artist. One that was inspired to create art, not forced. He kept a collection of sketches and paintings in a three ringed binder, that was falling apart at the spine. He never showed his work to anyone, not even Jake. Mac met Jake for luch after Geography. He handed Jake that days assignments and sat down at the table. Mac looked reluctantly at his burnt Mac & Cheese and rotten watermelon "disgusting" he thought. But when he turned towards Jake he knew his friends mind was on other things. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Someone offered me a job," Jake said, a bit dazed. "What kind of job," Mac asked. Now lending Jake his full attention. "A kid told me, before I got on the bus, that he neede something stolen, as in pickpocketed. "Did you tell anyone about me?" "NO!" came the swift reply "I would never do something like that. You know it too!" Jake sighed "I know. I know. I still needed to ake, to be sure." They sat silent for a while until Mac brought up the pressing issure. "What are you going to do?" "I think, I'm actually going to do it. Someone knows about me. But who cares when I'm better than them all?

Jake was told by the kid to meet his payer 15 minutes to four at a coffee shop on the east side of town. That was close to Jake's house so that wasn't an issue. The problem came when Mac wanted to come along. Jake was very against his friend coming along but Mac was very persistent, he would not take no for an answer. After many "No's" and even more accusations, they came to the conclusion, that for the safety of the lions in Africa, Mac would be joining. They waited for over an hour before a man they had never met came up to them to explain the details. "You don't need to know the reasons" he said "You just need to know the "what". At 4:30 AM Thursday morning there will be a man at this exact table we are sitting at now. There will be an envelope in his left jacket pocket. Take it, and give it to me the next day. The same place. The same time." Neither Jake nor Mac asked how he knew all this, they just agreed and left. That just gave them a day and a half to get ready, do the job, and get the $200 bucks they were getting payed for the job. The next day the two friend's day was filled with preparing. They had skipped school and were now, once again, debating whether or not Mac would come. They decided yes, quicker this time. They would go as brothers, if anyone asked, getting coffee early before school.

The morning of the job was cold and deserved Mac and Jake to wear jackets and hats, of course keeping their style in check. If this gig went right, they would both be learning the affects of chlorine on carpet in Chemistry. Since the chain on Mac's bike was broken it took almost 30 minutes for them both to walk to the coffee shop.

CHAPTER 3- Money is the root of all evil
No one asked any questions. They both got hot-chocolate. Mac headed to the table right beside the target the man had described. Jake was about to motion his hand towards the man's jacket when the man stood up abruptly and pulled out a pistol. After that everything was a blur to Jake. Mac didn't know when the caos started, but once he saw the blood pouring out from his best friends head, he needed no more encouragement to run.

His best friend was dead and he was running from a man he did not know. How did it get this way? Mac didn't have time to ponder the question before he realized he was running straight into an alley-way. Mac quickly turned around only to find a gun staring up his face.

The same gun that killed his best friend. The man stared at Mac for what seemed like an eternity before he spoke. "You're dead" he breathed. And indeed he was. Mac had been shot. It was like nothing he had ever experienced before, dying. And then he laughed...well wasn't that obvious?

THE END


*If you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them!*

I have 1 word : AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

haha ty! :)

Is that the end though?PLEASE don't be the end.PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yha its the end.... what can I do when all my characters are dead? heehee. :)

BTW! Y'all! I made a writing group. You can post here if you like but if you want to go to a group totally oriented on writing I cordially invite you.... :) It's called "Writer's block" you can search for it in the groups section.

I loved it!!!!!
can i make a suggestion?? some of the parts i found a bit choppy, and it would help in my mind if you had descriptions of places and people, it would be nice if you could make it clear when you're writing from Mac's perspective and when it's from Jake's.
I loved the story and the plot, i hope that's not the real ending cause i want to read more about it!! it was every every good, a promising beginning, there is so many place you could go with this, you know if one of your characters live!! i would love to read more of your works as well!!!

here guys, i wrote this first chapter a little while ago and would love you hear what you think, freed back is more then welcome.


“Fire!” Rose’s voice roused me from my dreams. I laid there with my eyes still closed showing no sign that I was really awake.
“Come on Fire! Wake up! I swear, if you’re not up in ten seconds, I let your brother get up! I swear I will!! 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3” I jumped out of bed, my muscles protested. Rose watched me, her eyes narrowed when she saw my muscles tense resisting a wincing.
“Fire would you please drop this insane dream. You know your Father only said yes because he thought that you’d only last a week! Fire look at your bruises! You’re black and blue head to toe.” Rose said gesturing to my new bruised cheek. “Please Fire I’m begging.” Sweet, wonderful overprotective, worrying Rose, with her mouse brown hair, and deep pink eyes; Rose was old enough to be my grandmother, she was short and plump. Rose had partially raised me, as my nanny when I was little, then my maid when I was older, now I don’t know what she is, you could call her my maid, or my lady-servant but she mostly my caretaker. This is exactly what I except from the woman who raised me.
“Rose,” I said with a small smile. “You know that I’ll do anything to become a knight. And I don’t have as many bruises as a used to. I’m getting better, really I am.” Rose gave me a look that told me she wasn’t convinced. Sometimes I hated how well Rose could read me. I could reassure everyone else not to worry and that I’m fine, but of course I couldn’t convince Rose. I sighed and changed into my practice clothes, they’re beige and lose fitting. I sat on the stool in front of my mirror while Rose began to braid my long red hair that came to the middle of my back. I studied my reflection. My amber eyes are big and round, my nose was two bumps where I broke it a long time ago, but I drew attention to my full lips. All in all my face wasn’t the most beautiful. No matter what Rose insisted, I know I’m no beauty but I’m fine with that, it meant I can avoid most of the parties and balls.
“My Lady,” Rose began, but just ‘My Lady’ was enough to tell me that it was bad news. Still looking at my reflection my eyes started to look like glowing coals. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the roses in a vase start open and close getting faster and faster tell me that Rose was nervous about what ever she was about to tell me. She gulped and continued,
“There’s that midsummer ball tonight.” She paused, took a depth breath and started so fast I could barely catch it. “Your father wants to go, he says you’re not allowed to skip, and you’re to entertain, that includes dancing with Lord Shadow’s son Darkness.” My eyes were no longer glowing, they were flaming. Rose stopped.
“Is that all?” I asked through gritted teeth, when Rose didn’t say anything, she finished my braid, so I turned around to read her face. She was biting, like she wasn’t sure if she should tell me something else, or not.
“Spit it out Rose!” I said with a bit more of an edge than I intended.
“Please don’t be mad at me or your father or whoever.”
“I’ll Try,” I promised still reading her face.
“Your father told me to tell you, that it’s time you learned to be a lady and start meeting some of the young men who want to count you.” She stared into my eyes trying to judge my reaction. My brain felt like it was frozen, stuck.
“Father wants me to see young men?” I managed to say; all of a sudden my brain was working at full speed. I closed my eyes and shut down my face so that she could not see how close I was to full fury. “What about my knight training? What if I don’t want to give it up? What if I refuse to become a lady? What of I make sure no mom will want to court me?” I didn’t give her a chance to reply of any of my questions. “I’m not giving up being a knight!” I almost yell. Flames ran up my arm, my hair turned the colour of fire, and the tips of my hair were actually flames. I knew I was about to distorter my room. My eye snapped open, to see Rose had gone pale, staring at me with big frightened eyes, I hated it when I scared her. I swallowed my anger but I little voice in the back of my mind told me that I wouldn’t be able to stay in control if I stayed much longer.
“I’m sorry” I told her, she smiled at the sincerity in my voice. “I’m going to the practice court,” I told her gently.
`

“You’re late!” said the harsh voice of Sir Jonathan, who was my training master. I was looking at my feet; I took a quick glance at his face. His eyes that were once laughing blue were now grey and lifeless. I quickly looked down again; I was more then a bit confused, he uses to never be harsh. He has bin like this ever since he returned from Lord Shadow’s castle two months ago.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter still looking at my feet.
“Look at me girl.” I obeyed unwilling. “Now say that again in a clear voice.”
“I’m sorry,” I said loudly. Sir Jonathan long blond hair was tried back at the bass of his neck, there was an old battle scar on his left cheek. His mouth was in such a tight line that his lip turned white and seemed to vanish.
“Okay, lets get going.” He said turning and going to the edge of the practice ground towards the forest. I had to jog along side him to keep up.
“Why are we going into the forest?” I asked totally confused.
“So we can do a new drill,” he said in a tone that told me that I was not allowed to ask any more questions. We kept going at that pace through the forest, after about half an hour we could no longer hear the sounds of the castle, but we continued going. After about another hour we broke into a wide clearing, he stopped, I was grateful for the brake.
“Look at you girl! You’ll never become a knight the way, we’ve been doing. So to day we’re going to use these.” He pulled out to double edge swords, he tossed one to me. Reflexively I caught it by its hilt. It was a marvelous sword, it was balanced perfectly. The hilt rested in my hand like it was made for me.
Suddenly I get an uneasy feeling in my gut. The castle was easily 4 miles away, you couldn’t hear any side of it, even though the forest was silent. It was so silent I could have sworn that you could hear a feather fall from a hundred feet away. I had a really bad feeling that the forest was waiting for something to happen and it was anxious about it.
“Guard,” Sir, Jonathan‘s voice pulled me away from my thoughts. I pushed my feeling aside and went into guard. It was a pretty basic; knees bent a little bit, my weight on the balls of my feet, and my sword at waist level, pointing slightly to the opposite side of my opponent.
Jonathan striked lightning fast, I barely got my sword up high enough to bloke it, and when I did it numbed my arm. Such power, so fast, something was defiantly wrong. Sir, Jonathan continued at an unnerving speed and force, I could barely keep up. In the back of my mind I released why my father, Lord Lightening, called Sir, Jonathan one of the best swordsman in the country.
Jonathan slashed at my leg I couldn’t get my sword down fast enough to block it. Pain soared up my leg like fire. Through the pain that threatened to overcome me, I came to realization that I was now fighting for my life. Sir, Jonathan must have seen the fear in my eye. For a cruel smile crawled up his lips.
“It’ll be fast now.” He said in a victorious voice. His speed increased. My sword just couldn’t keep up, I could only bloke the fatal blows it seemed. I got my shoulder cut open, and repeatedly my legs got slashed at. I could barely support my own weight. My whole body was covered in sweat, my eyes stung with it, but I was too scared to wipe it away.
Then I heard off in the distance the alarm of the castle, anger sparked in me. How dare he drag me out here to die when my family was under attack! How dare he not let me die protecting my family!
A renewed strength filled my body. My sword ran with fire. Fury pumped through me, my vision turned red. The speed of my sword increased; I attacked!
I couldn’t break his defenses, but that didn’t stop me from looking for a weakness. I started getting frustrated. How could I brake through?!
The flames on my sword went white hot, our swords clashed once more. To both our surprise his sword melted. I lunged, plunging my sword into my sword masters stomach. He stared at me in shock, but there was also an awe in his eyes. Sir, Jonathan, one of the greatest swordmaster in the kingdom, fell over died, with my sword in his stomach
I was appalled at what I’d just done, fighting my urge to be sick. I pulled out my sword for his stomach, and started limping back to the castle as fast I could, I had to help my family!
I don’t know how long it took me to get back to the edge of the forest, but it felt like forever. All I could do was hope everyone was fine and I had the worst injuries. I couldn’t go fast enough for my liking, my limbs were heavy, all my muscles were screaming in pain. The whole time I was fighting to stay conscious. When I finally stumbled to the edge of the forest. I looked around;
Death!!

WOW! I love it! I loved how in the beginning it made me think there was a fire! :) The part where they were talking about courting was a bit confusing but other than that I really liked it. :)

WOW.What do I say.Good spelling and stuff like that.

oh and Zarah, thanks for the suggestions. I may go back and edit.

thanks guys!!

I can come up with good ideas but I can't write it to look right.

This is a novel I can't seem to finish because I don't know whether to shape my male character to be nice and sunny or cool and sarcastic, I'm leaning towards the latter, but... I don't know. This the prologue, there's more, but again, I don't know. *sigh*

Prologue
London, November 1893
It was late. So late that nobody was out on the streets. Not even those drunkards that drink for so long that they roam then pass out on the streets, and the patrolling constables have to carry them home. Tonight, there is nothing. Silence fills the cool night air. Darkness engulfs the deserted streets of London. The dimly lit gas streetlights shimmer ever so slightly, as the gusts of night winds blow through them. The moon is absent tonight. But the stars shine coldly for her.
The darkness was interrupted by a sudden bright light; the small light flared brightly for a second, but was dimmed almost instantly. The man put his lighter into his trouser pocket and took a long drag on his newly lighted cigarette. He was checking his pocket-watch constantly, pulling it out of his coat and putting it back. He stood there smoking in the cold night for awhile, looking around casually. He put out the cigarette on his thirteenth check of his pocket watch. Throwing the cigarette carelessly to the ground. He rubbed his numbed hand.
“It’s time,” He muttered darkly to himself as he flicked out a small dagger. He pulled the collar of his gray trench coat tightly around himself and walked slowly away, into the darkness that engulfs him instantly. The Big Ben strikes three.

i like it! i personally like the "cool and sarcastic" but my advice is to think about what you want him to do in the novel, and how he will react to the situations you put him in. you might be able to decide that way but what ever works for you.

Thanks for the advice! Another reason I'm stuck with this novel is because I'm stuck with Victorian "customs", so if any of you is an expert at that or secret time-travelers that had actually lived in that awesome era. Help!

http://www.goodreads.com/story/list/5...

this is where you can find all my writing. Please take a look! =)