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Rudy's Sporadic Writting
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I decided that I'm just going to post the stuff here instead of just the links.
Whispers of the VoidHollowed voices, murmuring
About the end times
Prophetic whispers
Warning of a fallen world
All day and all night
The whispers tell me
Of how my friends will die
And civilization fall
Ancient beings stir
Waking from a great slumber
And the voices of the fallen predict the end
I am their vessel
Yet you call me mad
Listen! Listen damn you!
They Wake and all will fall
Nature PoemI sit down on a rock
Careful not to touch the plants
I'm part of it now
Accepted by nature
I'm sitting on a rock ledge
Surrounded by trees, plants, lichen and a lake
I attempt to ignore the clitche
I'm not in search of enlightenment
But I will admit,
Light is nice
Sonnet for LovePurity, embodied in a human form,
A single vibrant person, without peer.
I gaze upon her, a heart true and warm,
And wish there was a way that she could hear
My love, my devotion, my cries of joy,
My promises, my plans, and all my poems,
I wish she was my girl, and me her boy.
I heave a sigh and return to my tomes.
For she is golden, as brilliant as the sun.
I am a skulker, who hides as a shade.
I can only hope she’d see I’m the one,
That without her I would wither and fade.
But hope arrives and she approaches me,
At the dance, oh joy, my heart fills with glee!
Black HumorTis better not to speak of people’s pain,
And stay away from the subject of death.
To many that conversation’s a bane,
To consider a loved one’s final breath
For life goes on but its never the same
The hole they leave behind you cannot fill
Sadness you feel at the sound of their name
And you can’t pretend they’re just in Brazil.
Life is an infinitely precious thing,
Unfortunately, tis fragile as glass.
So keep in mind when cruel jests you do fling
That one day, too, your life will come to pass
Sensitivity goes a long way
All should practice it each and ev’ry day
Urban GodsI picked up the book: Beowulf, translated by Seamus Heaney. Heros of the ancients never impressed me. A different age, one where monsters lived and heros were worshiped for the protection they gave. Its a different time now.
I briefly scanned the Barnes and Nobles. I felt a shade somewhere, but I couldn’t afford to act. I gave up my two freebies: the next one would last. As much as I enjoyed being a hero, I still had a life ahead of me. Let another Shadow Warrior take care of it.
A chill went down my spine. The shade was approaching. I looked up and watched as a TV reporter on the news talked about “Several people have gone missing in the downtown area.” Almost certainly collateral damage from a fight between Shadow Warriors and Shades.
Even Urban Gods aren’t perfect.
The shade was definitely coming closer. I could feel it. But unless it was a big one, no one would die. They might faint, probably get scared, but death or erasure isn’t a possibility. And yet...
As a hero, my job is to guard mortals. Monsters are here to hurt them. The course of action should be clear. But if I took action, made my decision, that would be the end. I would vanish from this world to join the shadow war eternally. My friends would forget me, my pictures would fade, birth records would disappear, and my family would move. I would never find them again. How could it be worth it?
What if I knew someone in this store? What if some of their life force was lost to this Shade? I could have stopped it. My mind was set. I whispered a goodbye to my family, my friends, all my loved ones, and embraced oblivion.
Your first ascension is the most vivid. You have so much power and evil monsters to use it on. By the second time, you know the risks, and most of the color is missing, leaving things in shades of grey. But the last time? The world is black and white. Your fighting for a race that won’t remember you, against an unspeakable, indestructible evil, with godlike powers that can ruin lives with collateral damage.
As I entered the shadows, I realized the shade was a full scale fireblood. Unless they had been around for a long time, no shadow warrior could hope to take one in one on one combat. But I don’t mind a challenge. A good friend of mine once said “A true adventurer never ignores danger, he embraces it.”
Power swirling around me, I leapt at the fireblood, my hands beating a pattern upon his scales. Some of them began to crack and I followed up with another flurry. The beast was shocked, I had ascended out of nowhere. I chose to be a monk, I always liked them.
Its tail came from nowhere and smashed my side. I rolled with the blow in order to minimize damage and disengage. I ended up halfway across the store after hitting a few shelves. Knowing I was outside of my weight class, I rolled behind a counter. If I was lucky, another warrior might arrive. With a healer or fighter, we might be able to banish it. Then I heard the scream.
I hate it when I’m wrong, it happens way too often. This fullscale might be able to devour a normal before it left. The time to wait was over. I tore around the bookcases, my arms glowing with an unearthly color, a gleam in my eye. With a roar I leapt into the air. I leapt towards what could be my death, not with a scream, but with a smile.
Start of DarknessNote, this was written for the Haven Lake RP group, this is one of my charries
He lay awake in bed, his head against the window. The glass felt cold against his skin. He tilted his head to look where his clock used to be. His dad had removed it, thinking that the ticking might be the cause of Erio's insomnia. But it wasn't. He still couldn't sleep. A deep sigh escaped Erio's lips as he turned to face the ceiling. None of the doctors were sure why, his dad didn't know, and Erio himself didn't care. He could always sleep in his classes.
School was repetitive. He would go to PE in the morning, go to classes, eat lunch with Ted and Jonathan, then do a few more classes before going home. Its not like he was failing, but he wasn't excelling either. He just was there. He didn't do any sports or instruments, he wasn't a big party goer, he wasn't a goth or nerd or emo or any of the other cliques people tried to place him as. He had his two friends and that was his school life. Hell, his life in general, It wasn't like he did a lot of after school activities. He was fairly certain he had the most boring life a 13 year old could have. But better boring and simple than bad and complicated.
He looked out the window. As always, fog. It was just a fact of life. Grass grows, birds fly, Erio couldn't sleep and there would always be fog late at night. There were always figure in the fog as well. Erio could see the sidewalk from his window and notice the people walk by. He wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep evidently. The figures would never drive, only walk. Every night. He wondered what they looked like, what their jobs were. Then the wind blew, the fog parted and Erio’s life ended.
It took him a few seconds to recognize the first one. It looked like Mr. Gardner’s identical twin. Erio never knew he that the man had had one, maybe he was in town for the funeral. He only had been able to recognize the man because Erio’s dad had been commissioned to make his coffin as well as be the undertaker. But when he saw Mrs. Daniels, who his dad had buried yesterday, who took pride in being an only child, thats when it clicked. That was when he started to scream.
As he screamed, the figures started to pay attention to him. They walked through the walls and stood next to his bed. “Don’t hurt me. Don’t haunt me. What did I do?” He kept screaming. But Mrs. Daniels just shook her head and smiled. “You beckoned us forth, from the realm below. You brought us here, we will serve.” Erio calmed down enough to say that he didn’t understand. The figures all chanted the same thing.
The Reaper has brought us to a new home
This boy has brought us back once more
All of us will leave, none will stay
Yet all to dance the Macabre
After that, it was a blur.
The Beast WithinNote, this was written for the Haven Lake RP group, this is one of my charries.
Garret was in solitary again. He actually preferred it to being with the other kids, who hated him and picked on him. None of them knew what he did to get in here, and he doubted that any of them would believe him. He was one of the smaller kids here, even he couldn’t believe the assault charges. Sometimes he wondered what life would be like if he hadn’t gotten stuck here in Scoate. He reached towards the bars and tapped on them. “Hello? Can I talk to someone?” “No!” The guards at Scoate weren’t very nice. It was an unorthodox academy, but it ‘worked’. The kids did come out with a better mindset, especially with the guards joking about prison being much worse.
Garret didn’t fit in with the other kids. He wasn’t the shortest. Some were built like pit bulls and a good foot smaller than him. He wasn’t the fattest, some were much more stout. He wasn’t the least muscular, there were a lot of really tall, gangly kids. But for some reason, he didn’t seem like a reform kid at all. But he knew what he was capable of, and as much as he hated his parents for sending him here, he knew it was the right choice. He broke three of the other kids ribs. And he barely remembered it happening. Granted, it wasn’t like he was unprovoked. Gordon had been insulting him and hitting him since the beginning of the year. Garret had warned him that he was going to snap one day. And he did.
He tapped on the bars again. Solitary wasn’t too much of a punishment for him, but sometimes he got trapped in his own head and he could swear he was hearing voices. He wasn’t a schizophrenic, he hadn’t had an imaginary friend since kindergarden and he really had nothing to think about. Then why was a voice saying “Let me out!” ?
He kept tapping the bars, beginning to evolve into a simple rhythm. He smiled. He recognized the song he was ‘playing’. He had always associated it with Lilly. But something was different about it this time. It felt more primal. But he decided to sing it, one last time, just for the old days.
“Here we go again,” he began by whispering. He remembered all the lyrics perfectly. The song had become a theme for his life. Though it originally started as a unheard serenade to all the girls he fell for, it had slowly evolved into a philosophy for his life. His voice got louder, building up from the whisper, to an average talking level, then finally a near shout. It turned from a dedication to Lilly to a song to himself. His smile turned into a viscous grin and his voice changed as he uttered some of the lyrics for the second time. “And I won’t be denied by you, the animal inside of you.”
As he spoke the words, Garret could feel himself changing. He felt bigger, his teeth were poking into his cheek oddly and he could see his arms getting bigger. But he no longer had control over his own body. He felt as if he was just watching a TV screen, as if he was observing someone else play him in a FPS. The body cracked its knuckles and a voice that wasn’t his chuckled deep in its throat. “Oh Garret, its good to be back.”
The guard came quickly after hearing the kid talk to himself. He hadn’t expected to see the now mountain of a man rattling the bars with a horrible smile on his face. “Boo,” said the creature as it flung the bars off at him. The guard fell down like a sack of potatoes, badly bruised by the metal. The creature walked up to him and laughed as it stomped his chest.
It felt so nice to be in charge of the body again. It had been ages since Hyde had been let out of that prison of Garret’s head. But he always had the most fun times when he was allowed out. Scaring off other kids, breaking that bully, and now this. There was a very good reason for him to smile. He began to walk through the corridors, past the guards and to the mess hall. Garret may have not liked being with these people, but Hyde had a use for them. “I’m going to break out. Who is with me?”
Many of the kids turned to Hyde with a look of bewilderment. None of them recognized him, but he seemed tough enough and it looked like he could do it. But only a handful got up. Then the guards rushed him. They were equipped with stun-guns, lethal force had not been authorized. It should have been. In that case they might have stood a chance.
Hyde grabbed the first one by the throat and tossed him at his friend with the tazer. It didn’t end well for either. The last guy got the worst of it though. Hyde smashed his face with both hands and let him fly into the crowd. The kids didn’t let the chance pass them by and his screams echoed through the cafeteria. Once the crowd had calmed down Hyde asked again, a little bit more forceful this time. “I’m breaking out. WHO THE HELL IS WITH ME?” The kids roared along with him and began to charge.
A sea of reform students broke through wave after wave of guards, with Hyde leading the pack. Nothing could stop them. They were nearly at the doors of the facility when the warden appeared. He was a big gruff man with a five o’clock shadow, but the scary thing about him was the shotgun in his hands. The only way he would even be allowed to show it would be if it had been approved. Thats when the bullets hailed down from the balconies. Kids fell, and fell fast. A few began to retreat and one of the bigger kids tapped Hyde on the shoulder. “Dude, it was a nice shot. But now its time to run and hide.” A grin spread across what used to be Garret’s face. “I personally prefer to run and Hyde.” He dropped down on all fours and with one last roar he burst through the window.
Garret King: Rest in PeaceThis was written for the Haven lake RP group, shortly after this charrie died. FYI, the main character is the same as in "The Beast Within".
The playground was full of life, a group of boys chasing each other while playing tag, a few girls on the jungle gym, an assorted handful playing king of the hill in the sandbox. Even by the first friday of the year, the kindergartners all managed to have found friends. Except for Garret. He sat near the handball court, the nearest group of kids was about thirty yards away near the tetherball poles. His parents insisted that even the quiet kids got friends in kindergarden. But no one seemed to want to be friends with Garret. Which would be fine by him, except his parents were busy with work these days, so he really had no one to talk to. He would come to this corner during recess to be with his thoughts. Unfortunately, those thoughts amounted to ‘I’m so alone.’ But today was different, because he saw someone else, who looked just as lonely.
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He was trapped in his head again. The line had blurred over the years, but he could always tell if he was the one in control or not. Or once he became aware of the balance at least. He remembered the breakout as if it was yesterday. One moment he was imprisoned, the next he was free. But what did freedom matter when the real prison your body? But this time, it was different. He did’t feel like there was a way to force his way back into control. This time, Hyde had full control. He mentally felt the walls of the prison. Is this how Hyde lived his life? He couldn’t imagine that. He watched through eyes that should rightfully be his as Hyde beat the girl down. She should have gotten out of his way when he asked her. He didn’t think she ‘had it coming’ but if she had been a little smarter, she would still have her wings. He saw Hyde run up the stairwell, navigate his way through Haven, drop down to all fours to sprint to the forest, arriving at the mountain to climb it. He heard his grunts, with his vocal cords, as Hyde ascended the mountain, without any equipment. And he felt the body shiver when Tyson showed up.
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Garret approached the kid, a large boy with dark hair and eyes. The boy seemed to be studying the other kids. The nearby tetherball players seemed to look straight through him, even when they should have noticed him. Garret hated that, ignoring people so you don’t have to acknowledge them. He’d been through too much of that in the past week to dismiss it. So he made his decision there: He’d go up to the kid and make his first friend.
“Hello.” he called to the kid as he walked over. The kid seemed not to hear him, because he didn’t turn. Garret called out, again. “Hey kid! Dark hair!” The kid turned, a bewildered look on his face. “Yeah, you. What’s your name?” The kid blinked repeatedly, as if not used to people talking to him. Garret slowly walked up to him. The kid was bigger than he seemed at a distance. “My name is Hank,” he said slowly. “I didn’t think you would notice me. Not many people do.” “I’m not many people. You seem nice. Want to be friends.” “I...I guess.”
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Hyde stood in front of the mound. “I assumed the Havenites would have given you a nicer burial. Looks like I was wrong.” He sighed and sat down next to the mound. “I was worried coming back here this soon. Tyson still is probably moping. He seems like the type that would do that. I had so many plans for that kid, but he wasn’t interested, I guess.” He scanned the area. “I probably don’t have very long. If I don’t find a container fast, then everything is going to go to hell. I had a fallback plan, but I’d need to find the host. And chances are he isn’t nearly as perfect of a vessel as you. You were one in a million Garret, one in a million. Shame this had to be the place you ended up in, shame that the girl had to be that particular one. You had two tier fives after you. And some of the more violent ones to add to that.” He sighed. “You probably are going to whatever good afterlife there is. All said and done with my corruption, you were a good kid. One of the best.” He slowly got up. “I guess we won’t be seeing each other, again. Your prison was the nicest I’ve been in. Goodbye, pal.”
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The rain dribbled along his cheeks, down to his mouth. It tasted salty. Had he been crying? He was in control of the body again, but he couldn’t move. The shadows surrounded him, tinted with Tyson’s smell. He must have decided to end it.“...I’m sorry, Garret.” he heard Tyson murmur. His mind began to cloud as he felt his body’s regeneration trying to fight against whatever damage Tyson had inflicted on him. “Goodbye.” He whispered. “Goodbye my friend. Farewell forever, Hyde."
Getting in the habit of reviewing things well, so yes. A bit nitpicky here and there.Friday's capitalized in the first paragraph.
This is a question to everybody: Why is everyone named Hank? Gahh. Okay.
And I know you know this, but as a reminder: every time there's a new section of dialogue from a different character, it's on another line. ^^
A tip: when you're writing, avoid the following: adverbs (including very and really), "seemed" and synonyms for seemed. Seemed is one of those words that shouldn't be put into context in a third-person POV; first-person POV is a bit more acceptable. I used "seemed" and words like it a lot, and I'm trying to get out of the habit.
Also, there's always a comma before a speaker tag (he said, she sighed out, he whispered." and the pronoun, with the exception of I, is lowercase. Obviously, there are a few exceptions, as with the case of anything, but things like: "'... I'm sorry, Garret,' he heard..." should have a comma instead of a period.
Overall, I think you did a very good job describing the scenery. You gave a well-rounded story that gave a lot of details which I thought were very interesting. Nice job. :)
I did a few more poems, but I'm posting the two most interesting ones in my opinion. A bit of feedback would be good. Enjoy!Title-Less:
Words flow easily
But I feel less like a poet and
More like a poser.
I'm not artsy, or I don't see myself
That way at least
Words flow and I refuse to rhyme
Rhyming seems like a cheap
Way of telling your audience
That "this is a poem"
I abuse enjambment
because I can't control my thoughts
That's why I make a better writer than poet.
Awake:
Drifting endlessly, sleeping for now
The world passes me on
And I keep floating forward
But I will begin to stir.
I will rise, my eyes blinking open
I will brush the sleep out of my eyes
And put a smile back on
I will return to all of you
And will be remembered.
But I still sleep
I haven't woken up
One day I will, though
One day.
I am sleeping
Not forever
Not for too long
Just for now
I am drifting along
And life is passing me by.
Diner"So what'll you be having, honey?" The waitress asked. James lowered the menu, and gave a small smile.
"Just a water. Thanks."
"You waiting for someone?"
"Old friend asked to meet me."
"I'll keep an eye out for him, send him your way when he arrives." She gave him a nod before walking off. James settled into the booth, and began to stare at the door. Truth be told, he wasn't very excited to see Chris. They hadn't talked in years, not since Sarah passed away. And now Chris wanted to talk, out of the blue. But his train of thought ended prematurely as a man in a black coat walked through the doors. It had been so long, and Chris definitely had changed. He wore his hair short, and had lost that scraggly goatee he used to stroke. But he was still wearing that same coat. Chris looked around the diner, spotted James, and walked over.
James rose to greet him, hand extended. But instead of shaking it, Chris wrapped his arms around James in a big bear hug. "Good to see you, man."
"You too," James choked out, surprised at the sudden affection. He pried Chris' arms off him as politely as possible, and sat down. "You hungry?"
Chris smiled. "Nah, already ate. This just seemed like a good place to meet." James found it a little hard to believe him. The diner was almost empty, the food was overpriced, and the booth smelled vaguely of wet dog.
"So, why did you want to talk to me?" James winced a little. The words had come out harsher than he had wanted.
Chris looked hurt. "I wanted to see how you were doing. We haven't seen each other in ages." James nodded.
"I've been doing alright. Work has been good, my mom recovered, and I proposed to Claire a few months ago."
"No way! When is the wedding."
"December. We're having it on the solstice."
"Oh." Chris grew quiet, and picked up his menu. James sighed.
"She wanted it then. Wanted it to be special."
"It's special alright."
"Are you seriously bringing this up?" James realized he had started to shout. "Sorry. But is that why you wanted to see me?"
"We could have done it, you know." Chris mumbled.
"What?"
"We could have done it."
If looks could kill, Chris would probably have been lying on the floor with a few limbs missing, and the kind elderly couple two tables down would have probably become collateral damage. "No. No we couldn't have." James began to stand up.
"James, wait."
"Take care, Chris."
"Don't just leave. I wanted to talk."
"No, you wanted to remember. And I'm not interested."
"You're not interested because you feel guilty. You know we could have saved her."
It was everything James could do to not deck Chris.
"What the hell do you mean? We weren't anywhere near her when she died."
"I don't mean it like that."
"Oh." James sat back down, a look of worry crossing his face. "You're not serious."
"We could still try to do it."
"Chris, it's been seven years."
"Seven years, ten months, thirteen days. And on your fucking wedding day, it'll be eight years. I know the day, James. Don't give me that shit." Chris exploded. "I realize it's been seven years. I realize she's been stuck there, alone and scared, for seven years. And I realize most of all that we could have saved her. We were good. We were damn good."
"We were never that good though." James shook his head. "Certainly not on the solstice. It would have been suicide."
"But she needed us."
"How much can you need someone when you're dead?"
"Maybe that's the only time you can really need someone."
James sighed. "Seven years is a long time dude. We've gotten old. If, and that's a big if, we could have done it in our youths, we can't do it anymore. Hell, I could probably die from getting hit by a car these days. And how recently have you tried to cast anything? It sucks, but you have to get over her."
The knife was in the table faster than he could see. Chris' eyes were filled with rage. "Get over her? Get over her? You think it's that easy? I loved her, for fucks sake. I would have done it, but you said no. You said to respect her family. Fuck her family, they abandoned her. We could have done it if we had acted fast, and you know it. On some level you know it. But I listened to you, and the girl I loved died."
"I loved her too." James found the words leaving his mouth before he could stop them, "But that was a lifetime ago. I have a life now. I mourned, I remembered, I moved on." Chris stared at him, silent. "I still think about her, you know. And don't think that for a single second I don't realize the implications of me having my wedding on that day. But I have to, it's the only way I'm going to stop hearing her scared voice during moments of silence. It's the only way I'm going to stop seeing her face when I close my eyes in the dark. It's the only way I'm going to stop wincing when I see a tulip poking out of the ground, or people talking about Greek mythology."
Chris sighed. "I'm not sure why I wanted to talk."
"It's because you're going through the same thing. Trust me, I get it. But it's over. We went down in an earlier round. We made mistakes, and we paid for them. And now we don't play that game anymore." James stood up. "Take care, Chris. And please, don't do anything stupid."
Chris forced a smile. "That sounds highly unlikely. Take care James."
James walked away, leaving Chris to sit alone at the table.
The first part of a story I'm writing. I'd love any critique, and I really need it.
message 15:
by
Maggie, All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe
(last edited Sep 13, 2013 08:36PM)
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Cons: While the prose before the dialogue is great (see below), the dialogue just doesn't seem to flow as smoothly as expected. I understand that they're super tense with each other over this mysterious Sarah issue (can't wait to see where that goes!), but there are long blocks of back-and-forth dialogue that could maybe be interrupted by awkward/thoughtful silences. For example, when James gets agitated over Chris's comment, "It's special alright.", it seems to come out of nowhere; maybe let the reader see James's escalation from wariness to outright anger through some short internal dialogue (i.e.: "Bastard!").
Also, after his outburst, he immediately deescalates and apologizes; if he's that quick to anger, there must have been a very good reason. A reason like that means James probably wouldn't be cooled off in a matter of seconds.
As for anything else? Maybe add in some startled reactions from the waitress or hostess, if they're around, to add a bit of reality to the situation. Reading about gasps of horror or cries of shock at the sight of Chris's knife brings the reader back towards the knowledge that this whole, heated conversation is taking place in a public venue. If they're willing to argue about Sarah in public, it must have been a pretty emotional time for both of them.
Pros: I love how you started in the middle of the story. It's probably the most difficult thing to pull off--the temptation to let the readers know everything is crazy strong--but I really think you've successfully thrown the reader into the timeline on the balance between too much and too little information. Well done!
Also, you give a wonderfully neat packet of detail. Nothing on the characters yet (good to keep us in the dark on specifics in the beginning), but lines like "The diner was almost empty, the food was overpriced, and the booth smelled vaguely of wet dog" give a feel of reality to the story.
Finally, I absolutely love the mystery of it! I really want to know what happened to Sarah, how they could have saved her, and what will go on from here! Great job hooking the reader, Rudy.
Thank you! I really appreciate the input.
message 17:
by
Maggie, All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe
(new)
Mod
Poetry
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
Fantasy
http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
RP related writing
Tatulon: http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...
Haven Lake: http://www.goodreads.com/story/show/2...