I apologize for not being able to add another story post like I wanted to. I was able to get more writing done, but i didn't get as far as I had hoped. What I was able to accomplish would still make for a decent post but I still need to proofread it and give it a good once over before pasting it in here. I just wanted to let you all know where I was at and that an update is still on the way.
got it. hope to see it soon.
all right then, doesnt completely answer my questions but i know that you wont tell me everything
ya so i love the story and cant wait for the next segment
how long have you been writing?
I know it's been a while since my last update and I was truly hoping to get further than I have. I had to take a pause from writing for a bit while I worked out some details pertaining to the story of my second book. In the next scene after this post you're going to get to see a character that's supposed to be a real bad a$$ type of villain. It's going to be while Sean is practicing his sword-chi in an effort to help himself to get over how he feels he's being mistreated. The important thing is that I've worked out enough of the details to where I can move on and I'm going to try and get some more of the story completed tomorrow, so I hope I'll get enough complete to make a satisfactory post.
To answer your question Curiousape (nice name by the way, makes me smile when I read it) I started this story here on the cafe. I think the date is even posted on the first post. This also happens to be my first major attempt at writing a novel, and so far I'm rather happy with the success I've been having with it too. What do you think?
Here's my next addition... and ST I'll try to answer your Q with a bit more detail soon, I just need a more time than I have at the moment.
The next day Sean awoke from a dead sleep. The sun shined in through his window giving him a positive feeling that today was going to be a great day. He sat up in his bed and stretched his arms high above his head working out any kinks his back may have earned while he slept. As he looked around his room he noticed that his window was closed, and he figured someone mustâve come in at some point and closed it for him under the presumption he was probably to cold. Without a second thought he reached over and cracked it open about six inches and the beautiful fresh country air flooded into his room again. He inhaled it deeply appreciating the cleaner quality of it and the untold myriad different scents that it carried along with it.
As he put his shoes back on and looked around the room he noticed something else that disturbed him greatly. He distinctly remembered having left his bottle of pills on the dresser, but now they were obviously gone. A quick look around the room showed him that they hadnât fallen, so the only obvious answer was that whoever had entered his room to close his window had probably taken the bottle with them when they left. It baffled him as to why they would want to, but regardless of the reason it irritated him that someone would steal something he considered personal and vital.
A moment of inspiration struck him and he invoked his enhanced senses hoping that he might catch a familiar scent or any other clue that might indicate who the midnight perpetrator was. He used to practice tracking with Carlos back at the manor. It was a method his uncle used to encourage Sean to master his control over his werewolf senses, and it was only during his last few months there had he gotten the hang of it. The idea of being able to identify someone by scent was something still new to him, and it sometimes amazed him with what his nose could pick up.
The first smell his brain processed was the delicious aroma that was obviously emanating from the kitchen. He could smell roasting turkey, fresh bread, a bunch of different vegetables, at least three different kinds of pies, and the fresh scent of cinnamon apple cider being made from scratch.
Despite being hungry, he didnât allow the smell of the food to distract him too long from his original purpose. He closed the window he had just opened to help prevent any further smells from entering the room, and he waited a few seconds for everything to settle down before trying to discover the one scent that didnât fit in with what he knew. He managed to pick up the faded scent of sweat and tobacco that he knew had to belong to Mr. Cormick, and Sean figured he had discovered his thief.
However, when he examined the location of the scent more closely it became clear to him that it only existed just outside his door, and not within his room. Mr. Cormick probably came to his door a couple of hours ago to try and wake him up, but his distinguished scent never actually entered the room. Logic told him that he couldnât be the guilty one, so Sean continued his search.
He got down on his hands and knees and brought his nose close to the floor trying to discover someone elseâs scent. He lifted his face up the front the dresser and across the surface when suddenly he caught the slightest hint of something that didnât belong. It was so faint that he could barely detect it, so he breathed in deeply a second time just to make sure his brain registered it properly. Sure enough, it was lavender. And if it was lavender that meant Tara had been in his room.
Immediately, questions sprouted up in the realization of who had snuck into his room while he slept. What did she want of him? Why was she there in the first place? Why would she want to take his sleeping pills? Something wasnât right, and Sean fully intended on confronting her at the earliest opportunity available.
His uncle had warned him of the Arcanus, of which all spellcasters were a part of, and he had told Sean that he would be better off he could avoid them whenever he could. Most spellcasters were a patient and a manipulative lot commonly living longer lives than the average person, and almost always on an agenda to increase their powers. Now it seemed his uncleâs advice was coming back to him to show him a hard learned lesson that he couldâve avoided if he had just taken it for granted that Gregor was right in the first place.
Sean tried to shake the irritated mood that clung to him before he left his room. He headed into the kitchen in search of any of the other household members, but he only found Mrs. Cormick busily preparing the feast that everyone was expecting.
âLook who finally woke up,â she announced in a rather non-interested tone as she continued slicing up carrots, adding them to a growing mound. âYou missed breakfast. Joe tried to wake you up, but he said you were so sound asleep nothing was getting to you. It may not be warm, but I saved you some pancakes and sausage.â She gestured toward the kitchen table, âTheyâre covered up over there. I flipped another plate upside down over top of what was left, so I hope youâre not too picky with what you eat.â
Sean gave her his gratitude and walked around the kitchen island to the opposite side of the room where the table was. He knew it wasnât wise, in case Dawn was around or suddenly showed up, but he allowed his senses to stay keen. The smell of the mouth-watering food for this evenings feast was dominating the room, and Seanâs sense of smell was enjoying the exercise of sorting through everything it picked up. As he lifted the cover off the plate containing his breakfast he could feel Dawnâs mother walk past him toward the family room where the big screen TV was displaying the Thanksgiving Macyâs Parade.
âWhile youâre eating,â she told him as she walked by, âIâm going to take a few minutes to sit down and rest my feet.â
âWhereâs everybody else at?â Sean asked her as she crossed the thresh hold into the family room.
âThe girls headed into town to pick up some more butter and a couple of other things that Iâm running short on, and Joseph is probably out in the barn trying to get all the yard work done before dinner starts. In fact when youâre done eating he requested that you head on out there to give him a hand.â
Sean focused his senses on her as he listened, and he could detect the increased stress level that she was trying hard to hide. She did well in keeping her voice calm, bleaching it of emotion, but her heart rate and breathing were too fast and she walked as though she was ready to run at a moments notice. In addition to all of that he couldnât ignore the undeniable trace of silver he could detect hidden somewhere near the waistline of her pants. Likely it was a knife of some kind that was covered up by her shirt which wasnât tucked in.
Clearly Mrs. Cormick was uncomfortable around him.
Sean stood in the entrance way to the family room as he watched Mrs. Cormick sink into the cushions of the sofa to watch a large balloon version of Garfield the cat make its way across the screen. So far he wasnât exactly comfortable with the reception he was getting. He was unsure if heâd be able to sway their opinion about him, but he felt like he had to say something.
âIâm sorry,â Sean blurted out and Mrs. Cormick turned to face him wondering why he was standing there, and why he was apologizing.
âWhat for?â she asked, this time a confused emotion touching her face.
âAbout the mug last night,â Sean clarified.
âThat little thing?â she said with surprise and waved her hand with a gesture of dismissal âThat was nothing. Donât you worry about it.â She turned her attention back toward the TV, evidently trying to limit her interaction with him.
Sean was unwilling to let her off the hook so easily.
âIâm also sorry about having woken up late and missing breakfast. It was disrespectful of me, and I promise I wonât let it happen again.â
âItâs excusable I suppose.â She turned to look at him again as she spoke. âYou are a college student so youâre probably used to sleeping in late, although Iâd appreciate it if you donât let it become a habit while youâre here.â
Mrs. Cormick was about to turn her attention back to the TV, but then she reconsidered and stared back at the person she was trying to ignore. She realized that he was being persistent and wasnât going away. He was going to force her to deal with him one way or the other.
âIs there something on your mind?â She asked in a dry tone, already knowing the truth of the matter.
âSomething Iâve done seems to be bothering you, so I was just trying to make peace between us.â
âWell, itâs none of those things.â Mrs. Cormick was unable to keep her eyes on him and her voice dropped in pitch as she averted her gaze. It was evident she was feeling a little ashamed with how she was mistreating her guest.
There was an awkward spot of silence, and Sean doubted that she was going to let the conversation go any deeper.
âOhâŚ I see,â he said trying to fill the void with words and allow for the possibility of some kind of conclusion.
Sean started to turn around back into the kitchen, but as he made the motion to go Mrs. Cormick found her voice once more. âItâs not you,â she said, and Sean paused to see if she would say more. Her eyes dilated, and Sean could tell that she was no longer looking at him, but rather at some distant memory.
âA little more than twenty years ago my husband and I had a bad run in with a small clan of mixed were-creatures.â Right away the beginning of her tale had Seanâs complete attention.
âThey took over our home and held us captive for a couple of days while they worked out a plan to kill one of the elders from the nearby magical community. They were eventually captured and their vindictive plans were disrupted before they were able to harm anyone. Afterwards one of them was temporarily held here as a prisoner while he awaited his trial. During the night he had gotten free, killed his two guards, and would have killed me too if it hadnât been for my Joseph. He saved my life but it cost him his leg. If you hadnât noticed he wears a prosthetic.â
She paused her story and refocused her eyes on Sean to see how he was taking what she was telling him. Part of him was amazed by what he heard and that expression was quite apparent on his face, but part of him also felt sympathetic toward her as he tried to understand the horrible experience. Finally he could comprehend the source of why Dawnâs parents werenât comfortable being around him
âIâm sure youâre a good person,â she continued, âand I apologize if I seem rude to you, but that whole painful experience taught my husband and I to always ere on the side of caution.â
âI understand now why you donât like me, and I feel bad for whatâs happened to you. But just so you know, Iâm not like those weres and hurting you, your family, or my friends is the last thing that Iâll ever do.â
Sean stood there for a short while waiting to see if she would say anything else, but she just looked away with a sad look of guilt on her face. He felt bad for her and wondered if what he had said may have seemed more like an accusation than a validation that he wasnât dangerous. Believing nothing else was going to be said he walked back into the kitchen to the pancakes and sausage Mrs. Cormick had been kind enough to save for him, and improvised a sausage pancake sandwich. He felt uncomfortable staying in the house, so he took his food with him out the kitchen backdoor and decided he could look for her husband, Joseph, while he scarfed down his food.
He took his time walking over to the barn so heâd be able to finish eating most of what he had. As he went through the huge doors he only had a couple of bites left and halfway in, about thirty feet away from him Sean could see Mr. Cormick busily mucking out one of the horse stalls. Sean stuffed the remaining bit of food into his mouth and moved forward to try and see what sort of help he might be able to offer.
A wheelbarrow was parked just outside the stall Mr. Cormick was cleaning and it had its handles facing toward the stall gate so that it would be ready to go after it had been filled. The big man emerged from the stall with a pitchfork full of wet hay and clumps of horse manure. He had on a pair of rubber boots and gloves, and hanging down in front of him was a rubber apron that matched the same material. He also had a large red bandanna folded in half and tied around his face to protect his beard from getting yucked up. He dumped his pitchfork into the wheelbarrow, and pulled off one of his gloves so that he could pull the bandanna low enough down his face to talk to Sean.
âI was wondering when you were going to get your lazy butt out of bed and come out here to give me a hand. I tried waking you up. I even pounded so hard on your door I was a bit worried I was going to break it down, and Iâm sure the room shook too. You, son, are one very heavy sleeper.â
âI assure you Mr. Cormick,â Sean spoke with his neck bent back to look up at the tall manâs face, âI didnât intend on sleeping in this morning. I already spoke to your wife about it and promised her I wouldnât be doing it again.â
Mr. Cormick chuckled a little bit and his genuine mirth was easily seen in his eyes. âPlease, donât call me that. Iâd rather you call me by my name, Joe or Joseph, and Iâm pretty certain my wife would rather you call her Lily.â
Sean nodded his head in recognition. âOkay, Joe it is then.â
âNow as for you sleeping in,â Joe went on, âI suppose everyone should be allowed a freebie, especially if youâre making a transition in you sleep pattern, but try not to let it happen anymore. You see, here in this household we all wake up early, because there are always a lot of chores to be done. Iâve never been one to give room and board to freeloaders, so I expect you to do a little bit of helping out while youâre here.â
âI donât have any problems with that,â Sean responded.
âGood! You can start off by helping me out with cleaning these horse stalls.â
Joe showed him a foot locker that had spare gear in it and Sean outfitted up. He wasted no time in getting Seanâs hands dirty as he instructed him on the proper way to clean a stall. Two of them needed to be completely cleaned out and washed down. The remaining four only needed the dirty sections removed and new hay spread and fluffed all over the stall. Joe explained that the stall floor was much like the horses bed, and that the surface of it needed to have some flexibility or softness to it for the animal to remain healthy and sleep comfortably.
Sean was astonished with how many wheelbarrow trips it took to clean out one stall. After it was full each time he pushed the load out back and dumped it off into a large bin with more manure that was slowly being turned into compost.
After a stall was cleaned out they had to go get more hay from a boxed in room that was packed from floor to ceiling with neatly stacked bundles of hay. Even the floor was packed tightly with a layer of hay bundles. Joe told Sean not to take any of the bundles that were lining the room and to concentrate on getting them from the middle. Sean quickly caught on and together the two of them proceeded to get the cleaning done.
Everything was going well and Sean was enjoying the physical labor until they were finishing with the second to last stall. They both were getting bundles of hay from the room when Sean retrieved a bundle from the floor that wasnât sitting quite flat. As he lifted it up he revealed that underneath was an extremely thick length of chain bolted to the floor and an equally thick metal band at the other end of the chain. Joseph stopped working to watch Sean as he made his discovery
Sean knelt down and picked up the heavy chain in his hands as he asked Joseph what it was.
âItâs a manacle,â Joseph explained.
âWhatâs it doing here?â
âQuite some time ago I had to help some folks hold a were-panther here. What you just found was the manacle that was used to bind him.â
âYour wife, Lily told me about this.â
âShe did?â Joseph said, slightly amazed
âShe also told me that was how your leg got messed up,â Sean said as he continued to eye the heavy metal suspiciously.
Joseph kept watching Sean as he looked up at him. Sean studied his demeanor wondering if it was Josephâs intent for him to discover this. And if it was, then what did that imply? Sean believed he could detect the underlying suggestion that Joe intended to make him aware of the imprisoning device in case he wanted to use it on himself. Sean dropped the chain and he watched Joe as the weight of it hit the ground. Without saying another word he picked up his bundle of hay and silently went back to work. He didnât say another word to Joseph as they finished distributing the hay all along the floor of the stall.
âYou look like you know what youâre doing here John, so Iâm going to let you finish up the last one. Iâm going to head on inside and check on my Lily to see if thereâs anything else that needs to get done before we can sit down and eat.â
Joseph watched him for a response and Sean merely nodded once as he continued to move right along on to the last stall without even a pause.
âJust make sure you wash up well when youâre done, and you may want to also change your clothes even if you didnât get dirty. The smell of it still winds up clinging to the clothes.â With that being said Joseph turned and exited the barn, favoring the leg Sean guessed to be the prosthetic.
Sean didnât let himself reconsider the manacle until after Joe had gone. The idea of it being there, and the unspoken suggestion that it was available for him to use, left him feeling cold inside. Never before had he even considered locking himself up while he was in his werewolf form, and now with the possibility of it looming in front of him, he felt distant and cutoff from being human.
It also made him wonder just how much of an animal did Joseph see him as? Did he even consider Sean to be a man himself? As those questions formed in his mind, feelings of disappointment and hurt began to sink in, and even a thin line of bubbling anger that he kept repressed in the back of his heart started to form.
Sean barely noticed the work he was doing as his mind obsessed with the underlying insult of what was just presented to him. He completed cleaning in no time, removed his protective gear and set it down on a bench right next to where Joe had placed his. Not really thinking about what he was going to do next, he walked back to the house and the closer he got the more his anger started to grow.
Last edited by SilentStrider (2010-03-26 02:59:40)
omg she took his sleeping pills. well he is not gonna get any rest tonight.
nice segment. can't wait for more.
somebody's gonna get scared
This piece does a nice job of explaining why the Cormicks are a bit edgy around a werewolf. More rising tension makes for a good setup. Was interesting see Sean use some of werewolf senses as well. Great way to keep the werewolf in the story and continue to build the character.
The tension is almost unbearable! It has a lot of detail from where the cormicks are from and what kind of opinion they have of Sean. I wonder what's going to happen to Sean without the sleeping pills and whether he will be confronted about them. I do want to know how the other girls are reacting to all this and the reminder that he is still a werewolf because lately you haven't written much about it. Still an amazing novel so far and I can't wait for the next addition to the story. Glad to hear that you will answer my question. Btw terrorkitty likes the segment (just saying)
GUESS WHAT! I got a computer!!! which also means i can put on a pic. its so awesome!
so ya would love to see an update sometime soon plz!
I'm still working on it. Writing has been going slow and steady with a bunch of interruptions in between, and I only have about 4 more additional pages written out, not enough to wrap up the next scene yet with Sean using his sword and a conversation between him and Tara. I'm confident that I'll be able to add another post by this Friday. It might be very late Friday, or more properly said, early Saturday morning.
Gratz on the new computer ST!
well get on it man
(This post has been revised. The original referred to fight scene with a phantom of a future adversary that'll pop up in the second book, but the scene here was not an appropriate spot for it. Perhaps I'll find a way to include it elsewhere. We'll have to see.)
Hehe, finally I got enough done for another post and I end it in quite a suspenseful way that's evil of me. I wanted to have more than just this before posting, but I think this little cliffhanger works out well for right now. If after you get done reading this and can't wait to know what happens next come back and check things out again late tonight or early tomorrow. I'm sure I'll have another addition to add to the story, and if by chance I don't get enough of it worked out tonight I'll at least have the courtesy to post a brief description of what happened to Sean so you're not held in suspense for too long.
With that being said I'm sure some of you are eager to find out what's in this segment, so read on and tell me your thoughts.
At first he was going to head back into the house the same way he had come out, through the kitchen back door. Then he saw the other door on the far left side of the deck, and he figured that to be the door that led into the short hall where his room was. He quickly adjusted his path to take the most direct route to his room. He vaguely acknowledged that there were a several muffled female voices coming from the kitchen and he presumed that the girls had returned some time ago from their trip into town. But, at the moment he didnât really care. He was feeling rejected and wanted nothing to do with anyone.
Sean entered the house through the guest wing and pulled the door closed harder than intended. It closed with a loud slam, enough to make him reconsider how he was expressing himself through his actions. After a quick glance over his shoulder to verify that none of the glass panes to the door broke, he ducked inside his tiny room and was more considerate with how hard he closed the door.
Right away he tried pacing, but the attempt was ridiculous when a stride and half was more than enough to clear the distance from his door to the bed. The small confines to his guestroom only served as a place for him to hide away from the others, but did nothing to allow him to vent off some of the anger he held inside. Sean tried to alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling due to his small enclosure by opening one of his windows. The first breath of fresh air helped to calm him at first, but within a few seconds it was clear that it wasnât enough and his irritation continued to increase. He could feel his nostrils begin to flare as he tried to monitor his own breathing and he knew he couldnât stay penned up within this little room.
Sean couldnât think clearly. He needed to get outside. He needed to run. He didnât know where he was going to go, but he had to move. He was just too upset to stay where he was.
Impulsively he grabbed his duffel bag off the floor and tossed it on the bed. Sean pushed his hand through the top several layers of clothes until he was able to latch onto his sword and yanked it out not caring about the few clothes that were pulled out in his haste and left in a scattered mess. With his sheathed weapon in hand he blindly opened the two doors in his way to the outside and took off running. In the distance, on the far side of the empty harvest fields Sean could see a dense line of trees that was sure to offer him a place of solitude and he b-lined straight for the forestâs edge.
He sprinted as fast as he could so the air would brush across his face and the pressure from the energy that was building up inside of him was finally able to find an outlet. As he dashed toward what he hoped would be a place of sanctuary, he couldnât help wondering if he had even closed the doors behind himself, but the thought was of little concern to him and he quickly pushed it from his mind. In no time at all he made it to the woods and let his momentum take him through the first few layers of underbrush. There was hardly any green color left in the trees with the exception of the pines. The remaining leaves had all turned yellow, orange, or brown and were well into the process of carpeting the ground.
After Sean made it into the woods about a hundred yards he came across a dirt path that appeared to meander through the woods. He turned onto it without much thought as to which direction he was taking and continued his pace at a jog. Before long the path crossed a much wider section where the ground was mostly sand and tall poles with high voltage power lines ran perpendicular to the path he was just on. Sean opted to follow the wider area, preferring the open space it offered despite the power lines that ran high above him.
Now that he felt removed from the others he slowed his pace to a walk and gave himself an opportunity to examine his emotions, and right away he felt as though he was stupid for coming to this place. He wanted so badly to find acceptance, and he was beginning to dare to hope that he was on the verge of it, but the frightening look Chris gave him played repeatedly through his mind and the way the Cormicks treated him told him he was nothing more than a deceptive danger they all had to be constantly guarded against.
He followed his train of thoughts to Tara and cursed himself for ever thinking he could trust her. Without his consent she told complete strangers that he was werewolf, and he had to wonder who else she told. In addition to that she had, for some unexplained reason, snuck into his room at night and stole from him the only thing he had in his possession to stave off the nightmares that plagued him almost every night.
Who the hell did she think she was meddling with his life the way she was? What gave her the right?
If she was indeed an example of what other spellcasters were like from the Arcanus then Sean was getting a very clear understanding why his uncle hated them so.
Sean didnât take too long to find a particular spot in the wide trail that he felt would give him enough room to use his sword for meditation. It had proven to be his best method for finding calm within himself whenever he felt his emotions getting out of control. Rage, anger and hate were all powerful negative emotions that were very bad for him to get wrapped up in especially if he had gone too long without changing. It created an easy path for the monster inside of him to come bursting out, and Sean feared what the result of that could be. He acknowledged not appreciating his treatment and that he was feeling betrayed by Tara, but in no way did he wish anyone of them harm. He had to get a grip on himself and contain his more violent alternate form.
With that thought he unsheathed his katana and laid the sheath carefully on the ground. Then he stood taking a wide stance and holding the enchanted blade with two hands straight in front of him. He held that pose for a couple of minutes, unwavering, while he centered himself and found a place of serene balance.
Slowly he began to move through the first step of bringing the hilt of his sword up while twisting the weapon so that it ran perfectly parallel to the ground. It was a traditional block and as with most of his sword-chi patterns it was how he preferred to initiate his first step. Sean honored the concept of never attacking unless you were attacked first, and this was how he chose to reflect that.
From there he proceeded into a series of counter attacks and blocks as he imagined two other swordsmen being his opponents. He took his time with each step focusing on the precision and accuracy of every move, and as he did so he could feel all his anger and resentment get absorbed into a pool of calm energy that built up somewhere inside the center of his being. It filled him with a peaceful strength that inspired him with the confidence that nothing was beyond his grasp. He was able to believe that the wild creature that he kept harbored could actually experience the same thing and that the two sides of his personality could somehow merge on this common ground. He wanted nothing more than to experience a sense of wholeness within himself and to no longer feel as though he had to constantly be battling for control when ever the head of his personal demon reared its ugly head.
Gracefully he took his time flowing from one choreographed move to the next with sweeping arcs of his sword, punctuated with very level and precise thrusts. His movements were designed to be continuous without losing momentum. Even when he was blocking he pushed his blade toward his imaginary opponent repelling their strike and using that forward force to counter attack.
Every single step he made was calculated, exact and seamless as he drifted through the intricate design of his sword-chi. He stepped lightly gliding through his forms like that of a poetic dancer. When he reached the end of the pattern he started it all over again without the slightest pause as though it was all one continuous song.
After each successive cycle he gradually increased the pace at which he coursed through his maneuvers until eventually he was streaming through them at a realistic speed. At some point, he never realized when, he had removed his shirt because he was starting to get too hot, despite that the temperature was probably still hanging around the low forties. Eventually Sean had gotten comfortable with his surroundings and the space he had, and closed his eyes so that he could better allow his mind to imagine the other combatants he fought against.
He permitted himself to get so absorbed into his meditation he closed his eyes and shutout the rest of the world. As he did so the realism of his opponent started to take on a life of their own. Periodically, the details of what they were wearing and their individual features shifted, and his mind couldnât settle upon a permanent image. Although, the constant shifts were odd, it did nothing to break his focus, because the one thing that truly mattered was that Seanâs mental picture of their weapons always remained the same.
Occasionally heâd see in his mindâs eye a move or two from them that wouldâve changed from his original layout, and Sean adjusted his own offense or defense accordingly in order to compensate for the unexpected alteration. The different moves didnât upset him in the slightest and he allowed his imagination to continue including spontaneous modifications here and there to his original layout.
Sean wasnât concerned with the impulsive changes, and he treated the challenge his subconscious threw at him with anticipation. He still maintained a strict level of calm and appreciated the new level of focus that his conscious mind required to meet the unexpected attacks. Staying sharp and alert he was able to read the body language of his phantom warriors, allowing him to smoothly counter them and to respond back with a flurry of swift strikes, pushing his immediate opponent far enough out of the way where he could afford a couple of seconds to deal with the second warrior one on one.
Sean continued cycling through his patterns all the while keeping his breathing steady and pacing himself. He had no concept of time and no idea how long he had been applying himself to his personal form of meditation, but the longer he went the more he felt as though he was holding himself back and there was this gradual building up of strength and energy forming within the core of his body.
Finally he felt as though it wasnât worth the effort of containing it anymore and he let the force surge forth incorporating it into his routine. He felt an intense power overtake his limbs and his body launched itself forward at speeds he had never attained before. He stabbed, spun, cut, blocked, and sliced all the while without have to overly exert himself and keeping his mind entirely focused on the one thing he was doing.
He concluded his final routine with an infinity cut, which was a move he designed to drive back simultaneously two fighters that were strategically flanking him. His imaginary opponents stepped back, increasing their distance from him and he pressed the advantage by pursuing the second fighter even as he moved away. Sean concluded his move by dropping his sword into a immediate loop and brining it straight back up vertically slicing the man from his lower to upper half.
Continuing the momentum of his sword he reversed the direction he was facing while at the same time leaping into the air at the first fighter he had driven back. He flew through the air like an angel of death easily clearing ten feet in height. Sean shifted his grip on the hilt and brought his katana downward in a stabbing motion. The swiftness at which he dispatched the other warrior and the shift in focus to the remaining one happened nearly in an instant. The first man still hadnât had the time to reverse the direction heâd gone in when he retreated, and he fell backward, perhaps in an attempt to add time to his inescapable fate.
He brought his sword up in a feeble attempt to block but the steep angle in which Sean descended and the force behind the conclusive attack left the helpless figure no options. His blade sank into the center body mass of the nameless man, and passed straight through him and into the ground. Sean dismissed the image of the defeated individual, keeping his eyes closed while he remaining perfectly balanced kneeling on one knee.
He held that position for some time, staying motionless and serene, and permitting his other senses to completely open up to his surroundings. Keeping his eyes closed made it easier for him to concentrate on everything else his heightened sensitivity told him. Gradually he began to perceive his environment in finer detail than ever before.
He could hear the soft flapping of wings as a small bird landed in a tree about fifty feet off to his right. All around him the air was moving in a constant swirl of eddies gently steaming by while rustling the leaves in the trees and occasionally carrying the ones on the ground a short distance to lie elsewhere. It surprised him when the light current blew over his skin and tickled the extra hair he didnât have before.
Sean opened his eyes and looked down at his body astonished to see that he was covered with a dense carpet of short white hairs. His skin felt tighter around his arms and chest and he could plainly see the increased muscle mass. There was also a slight pressure all around his face and even the skin there felt tight. Sean brought a hand up to his face wondering if it had physically changed in appearance too. Lightly he explored the strange contours and found his nose to be a wider. Also his jaw line was slightly pushed outward with the front of his mouth allowing extra room for the new shape his teeth had taken.
This was the closest he had ever come to changing into his werewolf form while still remaining in control over his body and mind. In the past, when he gave his senses a boost, he was amazed at what he could pick up, but now in this new altered form the things he was able to perceive was nothing less than extraordinary.
In the absolute tranquil atmosphere of the forest he could feel the infinitesimal scratches and vibrations of the tiny bugs that moved about in the sand of his immediate vicinity. From somewhere far off he could hear the sound of a car driving down one of the country roads, and he could distinguish the thud of it hitting a pothole as the old car bounced and creaked with the aftershock. The breeze played a symphony with the waving branches and rustling leaves with the trees dancing and swaying under the guidance of an invisible conductor.
As the air stirred it brought with it a myriad assortment of scents that Seanâs mind had difficulty sorting out well enough where he could recognize them. Gradually, he picked through the abundant information sorting out the stronger smells first. The area was rich with the mixed smell of pine and oak and the different qualities of the soil that filled the woods. He could even identify the musk of other animals that had used this sandy trail before and had spent their lifetime making these woods their home. There were deer, bears, and coyotes to name a few, as well as small animals like rabbits, squirrels and mice. Together they all interacted in this ecosystem playing their parts as hunter, prey, or scavenger contributing to the overall menagerie of the forest.
Sean let his senses become even more absorbed with his surroundings and he could see how everything was fundamentally connected to everything else, giving the entire forest a spirit of its own. The beauty of it all was unimaginable and he felt stunned with the breathtaking revelation of it all until another scent that didnât belong disturbed the entire orchestra. It stood out in sharp contrast to everything else and felt like an invader to the natural order.
The currents of the air brought to him the mechanical smell of oil and gas, vulcanized rubber, and metal. Without lifting his head or shifting his eyes he could tell that it was some small-type vehicle approximately a hundred meters to his right, in the direction he had come from. Accompanied by the ugly smell was also the burning scent of artificial perfume of jasmine and something else beneath it, like the perfume was meant to drown out another scent. The smoky lavender smell from spent incense told Sean precisely who it was that had found him and he could feel his upper lip curl in an involuntary snarl that vibrated in his throat with a low pitch. The scent was getting stronger and he could tell that a Wizard was walking toward him.
He looked up, his eyes squinting in irritation as Tara approached, and Sean took no precautions to hide his displeasure with her.
Last edited by SilentStrider (2010-05-03 05:05:13)
Before I leave for work I figured I'd just let you all know that this unusual and spontaneous fight lays the groundwork for a character that I'm creating for the second book. Here you're privileged to brief glimpse of him, and I managed to turn this minor scene into something huge and foreboding for Sean's future.
Man, if I was in your shoes I know the suspense would be killing me.
more, more, more, mmmmmmmmoooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
(This segment is no longer part of the story. I have revised it in the following story post, so you can either skip this or go ahead and read it if you're curious. I've left it here because some of the following posts refer to it and the extensive revision of the post previous to this one.)
LOL, Lonewolf! I love your simple, yet very enthusiastic comments. I had to stop and wonder if I counted how many times you wrote the word "more" here at the cafe what number would I get. If I had a dollar for every time you did I bet you I'd be pretty rich
Alright, as I promised here's an additional post with a few extra comments of my own at the end.
In my original out line this was not suppose to be the beginning of chapter 9, but still part of chapter 8. But, because I was reaching beyond thirty pages at this point and still had a large chunk left to add, I decided to make this the start of the next chapter and see how things proceed from here. I know there's no pre-set condition of how long or short a chapter should be, but I generally don't like it when I reach thirty pages or more and it makes me feel like I'm being to wordy. I mention this minor fact simply because it may push back a chapter some of the things I mentioned before that I'm going to describe.
Enough of me saying this stuff... here, read, comment!
âHey are you all right?â The voice came from nearby and was hovering over him. Sean had trouble registering any of the details of who was speaking or how to answer. He was still trying to grasp the concept of whether or not he was alive or dead. The tone of the question didnât seem to match up with what Sean believed had just happened to him. He thought it wouldâve sounded more hysterical.
âWhat happened?â This time the voice sounded more familiar to Sean as his mind gradually came back to life and he was able to associate it with Tara. His eyes opened little by little and he was able to make out the blurry outline of her standing over him. As her image came into sharper detail he was able to see the look of concern that she wore, and he wondered what exactly she had seen, if anything at all.
Sean felt the sensation to his limbs returning and he forced himself to sit up. He gave himself a quick look over and saw that his clothing was not sliced open, nor did he feel any of the potent wounds. Had he imagined it all? Was any of it ever real?
Tara knelt down at Seanâs side and examined him more closely. He could clearly tell that her concern was genuine, but at the same time she also appeared to be tense, like she was prepared to jump away from him at a momentâs notice. Sean raised his hands to his forehead and massaged his temples with his thumbs while he tried to make some sort of sense out of what had just happened to him.
âTalk to me,â she told him in a soft calm voice.
Sean withdrew his hands from his face and lifted his head to look at her. âDid you see anything?â he asked
âI saw you practicing with your katana, but then when I saw you drop it and fall I figured something was wrong and I came running over. When I got to you it sounded as though you were having trouble breathing and then I think you passed out. I was just about to go get the quad I rode here to carry you back to the house, but then I saw that you were coming to, so I waited to see if youâd be alright.â She paused, studying Seanâs face for any reaction and to give him a moment to digest what she was telling him. âAre you okay?â
âIâŚ I think so,â Sean said, looking at her with uncertainty, questioning his own sanity. If she never saw his phantom fighter, then was any of it ever real? He didnât know what to say, but decided to hold back until he could make more sense of what had just occurred to him. Besides, at the moment, Tara seemed like the last person he wanted to share anything with.
She reached to her side and retrieved the sword Sean had dropped a few moments before and was preparing to offer it back to him. She stopped midway and she found herself getting caught up in examining the exquisite detail and the amazing craftsmanship that had gone into the exotic weapon. She held the sword with reverent respect and lifted the hilt closer to her face so she could appreciate its finer details. Seanâs mind was still preoccupied with the recent events and it was still wrestling with questions he had no answers to, so he didnât think much of Tara appreciating his sword.
Taraâs face switched from an expression of awe to one more serious with her eyes squinting in close examination of the hilt. âThis thing is leaking,â she said not fully understanding what it was she was looking at.
âWhat do you mean?â Sean asked staring at her in confusion.
âYour sword is enchanted?â
âYes,â Sean said suddenly not trusting the young Wizard, and he reached for the weapon she was holding.
She willingly relinquished it and continued with her explanation. âWell, who ever did the enchanting didnât do a very good job of it, because whatever magical properties they gave it are now starting to become unstable. Itâs unfortunate, because itâs such a beautiful sword.â
âItâs supposed to do that,â Sean told her, displeased she was there and feeling like she was still managing to stick her nose where it didnât belong.
âWhat?â Tara said, clearly confused as to why anyone would willingly allow an enchantment to become unstable.
Sean didnât bother answering her, but instead got to his feet and picked up his sheath. He made a show for Taraâs benefit of popping off one of the opals from it that had now turned bleach white. It came off with surprising ease the moment he touched it and when he applied it to one of the empty moon sockets of the swordâs handle, the stone set itself as though it had been instantly glued. Tara got to her feet and watched in amazement, as though she was seeing and understanding much more than Sean was.
âBrilliant,â she simply muttered. âThe magic gets its structure based off of your interaction with the sword, and when it finally acquires a stabilized form you seal it with one of those stones. That one was blue so it contains some form of divination, but the other one already on the hilt is whiteâŚ for healing? Why would you enchant a sword with healing properties?â
Sean looked at her quizzically and double checked the color of the altered stone he had just set in the hilt. Sure enough it was pure white without the slightest hint of blue, so he didnât understand why Tara made a reference to it looking blue. He stared back at her and saw how completely mesmerized she was with his katana. Unfortunately, this only served to further his irritation and he jammed his weapon back into the sheath rather forcefully. His action served to snap her out of whatever state of mind she was in and she actually jumped slightly as Sean sealed away her fixation.
âWhat are you doing here?â Sean inquired, not bothering to disguise how annoyed he felt about her presence.
âI saw you through the kitchen window running into the woods with your sword, and you didnât seem too happy. I was worried about you so I came out to see if you were okay.â
âIâm touched,â he told her coldly.
âWhat is wrong with you?!â This time it was Taraâs turn to show her displeasure with Seanâs attitude.
âWhatâs wrong with you?!â Sean shot right back at her. âDo you have trouble sleeping at night?â
âOh, that.â Tara immediately lost the heat in her voice, and quickly continued. âI wanted to talk to you about that right away, and if youâre taking as many pills as I think youâre taking then you need to stop.â
âWhat?â Sean said in dismay. âWho are you to tell me that, and how the hell can you know enough about me to determine whatâs good for me and whatâs not.â
âI think I know enough to see that youâre addicted to them, and believe me, I know an addiction when I see one. Iâm only trying to help you, and if youâre truly sincere about wanting to learn how to control yourself when youâre in your werewolf form then I need you to lay off of those pills. Itâs not healthy for your mind, and thatâs the part of you we really have to work on.â
âYou donât understand. I need them so I donât dream. I need them for my own sanityâs sake.â
âIf you want them back Iâll give them to you, but itâs going to make my helping you a lot more difficult,â Tara told him solemnly.
âIâm not so sure I even want your help anymore, Tara,â he told her with a quiet anger lingering in the background of his voice.
âBecause, I donât feel like I can trust you.â
Tara tilted her head slightly to one side and looked at Sean not understanding fully where he was coming from.
âOh come on! Is it that hard to figure out?!â Sean gave her a second to consider and then continued to clarify, making sure there was no misunderstanding. âYou tell people that are complete strangers that Iâm a werewolf. You sneak into my room at night and steal my pills without a thought as to what that might do to me. When we first met I recall you distinctly telling me that if you felt like I was threat that youâd have no problem what so ever in getting rid of me and you kicked my leg that night when we were all eating together.â
âAre you mad at me because I kicked you?â she said in astonished disbelief, and she struggled to hide a hint of laughter.
âThe point is you havenât exactly treated me well, nor have you given me much of a reason to trust you.â
âI kicked you because you were lying to me. I donât like it when people I care about lie to me, so you might actually take that as compliment in disguise. If you donât want me to give a damn about you then go ahead and lie your head off. You protected the life of someone I care about, and all I wanted to do was to try and show you a bit of gratitude and do something nice for you in return, but if you donât want my help then just say so and let us be done.â
âWhat about you telling the Cormicks about me without us discussing it first. It shows a lack of respect, and makes me doubt whether or not I can trust you. How do I know you wonât go ahead and tell someone else at your own discretion?â
âThe Cormicks are like my family. Iâd trust them with my life. They had a right to know who and what they were accepting into their home. I couldnât in good conscience let them exist in ignorance that youâre a werewolf, especially with what they have been through. For what itâs worth though, I do apologize for not telling you first. Maybe I should have. But ask yourself this, if I did, would you be here now?â
Now it was Seanâs turn to be taken aback by the words Tara spoke. It was possible that he was being too critical, and although he didnât agree with her methods, she was very dedicated to trying to help him the best way she knew how. He sighed deeply to release the agitation he was feeling, so that he could deal with Tara more calmly and with a clear head. She was highly intelligent and seemed to be well informed with everything else that was going on. He needed to keep his mind sharp whenever he was dealing with her, and allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment wasnât a smart move on his part.
Sean had seen into the nature of her soul and he knew that if she counted you on the list of people she cared about then she was more than worth it to have in your corner against whatever you were facing. She was the kind of person that was dedicated and loyal, perhaps even to a fault, but she would never abandon a friend no matter how grim the situations may seem.
âLook, John, I really do want to help you, but I canât if youâre not willing to trust me, and if youâre going to resist me at every turn then it makes what Iâm offering to do increasingly more difficult. Work with me and I promise you I can help.â
Sean wasnât able to deny cringing slightly when he heard his false name spoken out loud again. It sounded awful and outright unnatural every time he heard it, and he absolutely hated it.
âI want to trust you Tara, but you donât make it easy when you do the things you do.â
âThatâs fair enough. You deserve me treating you better than the way I have been and I promise you from here on out that Iâll make that true, but Iâm going to need a promise from you in return.â
âWhat do you want?â Sean asked guardedly.
âTrust me.â She made her request short and simple, free of any complications.
Sean still felt like he needed to add one more conditions so he said, âIâll trust you if you count me as a friend.â
âYou can be my friend if quit bitching about everything.â Tara didnât try hiding her smile and she let Sean see for himself that she was making a playful comment.
Sean considered briefly about continuing the line of banter but his mind got stuck on calling her what she had just accused him of doing, and he didnât like how those words tasted in his mouth, so he resolved it by sharing a laugh with her.
âCome on, letâs head back,â Tara told him, nodding her head in the direction of the house.
âNah, I think Iâd rather not.â
âYea, you did leave the house like you were mad for some reason. Do you want to talk about it?â
Sean didnât know what it was, but no matter how mad he was with Tara, in the end she always found some way to turn things around. It reminded him of how persuasive his uncle could be with his words and how easily he inspired the trust of others. For a brief moment he entertained the thought of how amusing it might be to watch the two of them get into a debate over something. Sean dropped the thought for another time and refocused his attention back on Tara.
âDo you see me as a monster?â he asked seriously.
âWhat inspired that question?â Tara said, searching for further detail into what had upset him.
âI feel like thatâs how everyone sees me here.â His voice hinted at the feeling of rejection that crept back into his mind.
âI assure you, you are definitely not a monster,â Tara spoke with confidence trying to inspire Sean to feel better.
âThan what am I? Am I even human?â
âNo, youâre not that either,â she said with a mater-of-fact tone.
Sean was a bit surprised by her comment. For a split second he even wondered if she meant it to be hurtful, but it was plainly written on her face that she was trying to lead Sean down a different line of thought.
Curiosity got the better part of him and he took the bait. âThen what am I?â
âThereâs a simple answer to your simple question,â she told him with a dramatic pause making him hang on her words. âYouâre a werewolf.â
In response he raised his eyebrow in disbelief that such a simple answer could console him.
âThis is part of your problem with accepting yourself,â she continued after seeing his reaction. âYouâre not human. Youâre not an animal or a monster either, and it would help you to stop seeing yourself in those terms. Youâre a werewolf. Nothing more. Nothing less.â
They stood there in silence for a while as Sean absorbed the deeper meaning of what Tara said. It was simple and without the complexity his emotions fed into it. Seanâs mind seized upon the nature of those words and allowed it to seep in deeper. It amazed him how such a plain explanation, stripped from any additional words could make such a profound difference, but there was something there to be sure. A hidden jewel of truth that if he took his time to sift through his own thoughts he was sure would reveal something profound about himself.
However, despite the seed of hope Tara had so cleverly planted in his mind, he still didnât feel like he would find acceptance with the Cormicks. Doubtful thoughts rose to the surface again and he found the idea of returning to their home to be quite uncomfortable. He considered how much happier everyone there would feel if he just didnât go back.
âI donât think I should stay here,â he told Tara.
Tara muttered something so low under her breath that Sean couldnât make out a single word, even though he was standing right next to her.
âWhat did you say?â
âI said âWhy do you say that?ââ Sean was sure thatâs not what she had just said since it lacked the appropriate amount of syllables, but he let it slide and continued their conversation.
âBecause, of how everyone else is treating me, like Iâm some rabid animal that has to be kept in chains. I feel like youâre the only one who even tries to understand me.â
âOnly me? What about Dawn?â Tara countered.
âDawn?! Sheâs the only one here who doesnât have a clue what I am. She makes me feel like Iâm the wolf in sheepâs clothing and sheâs the trusting lamb that doesnât know any better. Iâm sure if she did though; her reaction would be much the same as everybody else, if not worse.â
âI wouldnât bet on it,â Tara said, shaking her head, doubting Seanâs opinion.
âIt doesnât matter. The point is everyone is acting like they have to be cautious around me, like I might change at any moment and hurt them. Iâm not really welcomed here so I might as well leave.â Sean shrugged his shoulders believing there was nothing Tara could say to alter his view, and what was would never change no matter how she tried to portray it.
âPlease donât go.â Her voice was soft and quiet, and Sean swore he could detect a hint of sadness. Her heartfelt plea astonished him, and he knew that her request was genuine.
âCan you at least give me one good reason why I should stay?â
âLetâs seeâŚ,â she began as she organized her thoughts and prepared to convince him otherwise. âFirst, I promised I would help you, and that would be kind of hard to do if you werenât here. Second, you canât always run from your problems and this is something thatâs going to be reoccurring everywhere you go. This is the best time for you to learn how to cope with it. Third, Dawn would be pretty mad at me for letting you leave.â She gave her last reason with both of her eyebrows raised as if she was reaching for additional excuses, and that it might accumulate to be enough to convince him not to go.
âAnd, fourth, itâs Thanksgiving. If you canât be with your family then you should at least be with your friends.â Tara gave a final sigh, showing she had no further reasons to give and she looked back at Sean hoping she had been persuasive enough to change his mind.
âDo you mean what you said? Do you consider me a friend?â Sean asked the question to verify what he thought was the most important reason she offered.
âYea. As long as you consider me one too.â
He nodded his head in quiet agreement and afforded her a gentle smile as his reply. He looked down at the short Wizard and wondered just how far this new friendship would go, and he dared to hope that heâd be able to keep it alive as long as possible.
âOkay. Letâs go back, and see how everything plays out,â he told her, and together they took their first steps down a fateful path neither one of them could possibly fathom how far it would go.
First off, I'd just like to say I'm not entirely sure how I like the flow of the conversation in this post with Tara and Sean, so any input what so ever any one is willing to offer would be greatly appreciated. I tried to keep it as true to their characters as possible and to not make the dialogue too long, but I almost feel as though I didn't include enough. At the same time I dread putting in too much, so I'll just let it be and hear you guys out. One of the underlying factors for this part was to help concrete a friendship between these two characters.
I was lucky enough to not have much work to do tonight so I was able to devote nearly an entire 6 to 7 hours of my time to writing and this is what I developed. The first half of the conversation was entirely improvised and I worked with it as I went, but most of the second half was pre-planned and written out in my notebook.
I also would like to add that the fight scene in the prior post was also another completely improvised addition to the story in honor of mrRW's request to see Sean in action with his katana (for some reason I keep on wanting to capitalize that word - random thought), so you have him to thank for that. Plus I also agreed with him. It would have been a shame to invent such a marvelous weapon and describe it in detail, and to not have a couple more scenes with Sean using it. Unfortunately with this most recent experience I think he'll be feeling more reluctant of using it in the future, which is fine. The true purpose of the katana won't actually get revealed until near the end of the second story.
Originally I had planned on making the prior scene with Sean more simple and with him just using his sword in a quiet and tranquil way allowing him to achieve an almost halfway transformation. It would have been the closest he'd ever come to changing and remaining in conscious control of his own body, and itwould've ended his sword meditation with him in a final kneeling pose while he paused and allowed his senses to take in his environment in acute detail. That would have been the moment he detected Tara, and shortly there after the conversation between them would have ensued similar to where this one picks up halfway down this post. However, I decided to try and add something more to the story and took the opportunity to elude to a future villainous character that as I said before you won't get to actually meet until the second book. Maybe I was pushing things a bit too much and I was reaching too far with this fight scene, but I'll have to hear you guys out and let it exist for a while before I decide to keep it or not.
Here's a little more behind the scenes explanation for what just happened, and I may need to clarify this point when I go back to revise this draft. Sean's sword is helping him out in an unpredictable manner, and it may even be getting some additional outside influence in the particular way its enchantments develop into their final forms. This most recent one is centered around divination magic, as Tara hinted at with her comment. It actually tried to warn Sean of this future battle that fate has in store for him. It'll be interesting to see how he takes it when he gets to that final moment.
I'm not sure if I mentioned this little fact here yet or if it's one of those background details that I've only mentioned to just a few people, but just in case here it is anyway. Tara is addicted to magic and she is currently on a heavy restriction of not being allowed to use any. She still manages to sneak in a lot of extra opportunities to show you that she can get away with applying her craft and not get caught by her elders, but that will only last for so long. I best not tell you too much about that though... hehe. I just wanted to point out her addiction so that you could better appreciate how she was looking at Sean's katana.
Last edited by SilentStrider (2011-07-12 12:16:23)
I'm pretty sure my next story update will be next Thursday, or Friday at the latest.
So i think that the fight scene is a bit out of place. It doesn't really fulfill the need Sean has to release some of the building tension/stress he's facing at that time. One second he's wanting to merge man and beast and the next hes hallucinating etc.
I would suggest maybe saving for another time later in the story and maybe having Tara discuss what happened so he an get an idea that it was a divination that happened.
Other than that I think everything works well and the conversation you were concerned about sounds good.
More good stuff so keep it coming!
I agree with mrRW 110% the fight scene was out of place. You may need to build up the tension in a different way. Not so much where he is feeling like a monster but one where idk the big werewolf comes or some other kind of tension.
You have no need to worry about dialog, it is amazingly interesting and boy do u stay true to their characters. I think you are doing an amazing job with dialog but you need to start adding some more details to the surrounding. It is black and white (not to be mean, you said it yourself that you want constructive critisicm. Just don't critisize me on my spelling.
You have the worst timing for posts. I am always at a friends house on the weekend. It makes me sad to have to wait until I am home for the night to read it cause I can't get enough of the story.
what was the point of Tara calling him John?
Do you model any characters from people you know?
(idk just wondering)
who really is the stranger
when are we going to be seeing some more of GAAaaahhhh I can't even remember his name... The vampire
what exactly is the sword supposed to do?
So ya kind of a lot of questions. I'm not expecting u to answer all of them but at least clarify a few. Nice few posts, it really does remind you that you are reading a story about a werewolf.
Yea, I was afraid I was pushing things a bit too much trying to squeeze in that fight scene. Thanks for your honesty and not being afraid to tell me so ST and mrRW. Your comments are insightful and help me to keep my head screwed on straight. I'll go back to my original outline and edit the fight scene out for now, and we'll see if there's room to squeeze it in elsewhere. I also fear I'll have to edit the first half of the conversation between Tara and Sean even though I'm glad to hear it works well. It's alright, I'm sure I'll still be able to make it all sound pretty good after I'm done rebuilding it.
Okay, now Answer time
Why did Tara call him John? If you recall back in the beginning of chapter five Sean's uncle had informed him that the Veil was hot on his trail, so in order to help protect Sean he told him to lay low and set him up with a false name, which was John. This is the official name that's on any form of documentation (driver's license, college transcripts, etc.). He's also been trying to stay true to his uncle's request and has been telling people his name is John. I understand the confusion you feel when you read this, because his false name isn't mentioned very often, so when it does pop up it seems so strange... kind of the way Sean feels too, lol. I'm either going to have to rethink the whole false name concept, or see how it all reads when the story isn't broken up into several posts.
Do I model any of my characters after people that I know? Actually only one of my characters are and that happens to be Tara. Back in 8th grade, I think it was (I'm old, lol, that's half a lifetime ago for me), I sat next to this girl in my English class. We knew each other only because I was friends with her brother. We talked rarely and I used to think she was cute, but I never had the courage to act on it. By the time the next school year came around they had moved to California I believe, and I never saw her or her brother again. But the way she looked left an everlasting impression on me for some reason and over the years I took that mold and adapted it to an entirely separate personality to form the character in this story. I can't honestly remember any of the personality traits that the real life Tara possessed and if the one in my story has any similarities to her or not, but that's not really important.
As for the rest of my characters I've probably picked them up from movies here and there, but I'm not a hundred percent sure. I'm not sure if I mentioned it here before or not but I've had my main characters existing inside my imagination for years. I've had many opportunities to run them through many imaginary scenarios and on a few occasions got them down on paper in a few unfinished stories. Perhaps one of the things that helps me the most to make them so believable as individuals (presuming that you feel that they are) is I take the time every couple of scenes to write out how each character views everything and what their opinions are of everyone else. It's actually pretty time consuming, but it really helps me to get things into perspective and then I can have them act accordingly. I'm sure there's more I can add to this, but I'm not sure how much of it you really want to hear, so I'll move onto the next Q.
Who really is the stranger? The stranger is actually a new character that's still under development, but he's going to wind up being a real bad a$$ in the second story. He exists on an alternate world and he's one of the few people there that has enough inner strength to harness an extremely raw and volatile form of magic. This ability makes him a very powerful man and he has certainly allowed it to corrupt him, giving him a god complex. Eventually Sean is going to be facing him and it will wind up being another experience that will scar him for life. It'll take Sean and all of his friends to be able to get pass this stranger in order to fix a problem that exists between Earth and the alternate world. And the solution will wind up being cataclysmic. Yea... that sounds pretty suspenseful, doesn't it?
When are we going to be seeing more of the vampire, Gregor (that's his name by the way)? Trust me. He will reappear in the story, but first I'm going to establish the relationship between Sean, Chris, Dawn, and Tara. Whether you believe it or not there's still quite a bit more to go and there are things stirring up in the background that will wind up forcing them to come together in order to survive.
Gregor will make a brief appearance in about five more chapters. He makes a surprise visit to Sean's apartment to check up on him. In that scene he makes an evaluation of the type of people Sean is hanging out with (the three girls), updates Sean on the Veil's search for him and delivers some more information about the big werewolf that seems to want Sean's blood. Shortly after that scene Gregor is suppose to have a whole chapter dedicated to his point of view and you're also treated with getting to meet his prodigy, Anna, for the first time. If you remember she was mentioned in chapters one and two, and in the beginning of chapter two Sean's reading a letter from her. After that you get to see Gregor much more involved in the last three or four chapters as everything begins to build to an unanticipated ending.
Gregor is one of my favorite and deeply complex characters in this story and I've been considering writing his memoirs as a little side project if ever I feel like I need a temporary break from this one. Such a side project could prove to be interesting and fun to share.
What exactly is the sword suppose to do? Ultimately, Gregor intended it to be an instrument or a focus to help Sean maintain a sense of balance while he continues to find some way to merge the werewolf personality inside himself with the person he believes himself to be. When Gregor crafted the sword he instilled it with the potential for three enchantments, but he did something very unorthodox and didn't seal off the enchantments. In essence he didn't finish them, but he did connect the projected energy solely to Sean, so that in a manner of speaking Sean acts like a filter of sorts and the final form of the enchantments adapt themselves to what Sean needs. After an enchantment finds a stable form Sean is supposed to take one of the opals off the sheath and place it into the hilt of his sword to seal the enchantment so that it doesn't become unstable later on. If he didn't do this then after a certain period of time the magic contained within the blade would become unstable and would eventually explode, quite literally. That last sentence really describes the true purpose of the sword and why it's in the story, but like I said before you won't get to see the swords true fate until the second story.
There may be more to your question than the answer I gave, but right now I'm super tired and I'm struggling to form clear thoughts, so I'm going to catch some ZZZzzzz's and hope I have some story relevant dreams, lol. If you want any more explanations just ask. I don't mind giving them
Last edited by SilentStrider (2010-04-04 06:57:22)
Holy god! I just wrote a $hit load and now I'll have to type it again cause my iPod crashed.
Okay so where to begin.
Ahright!!! Those are the kind of answers I was looking for! I love the thought that you will be writing a chapter from gregors point of view. It is quite funny really, the fact that you will be including a section of the story to gregors point of view is exactly what I was thinking would be an excellant addition to the story. And I hope I'm not pushing it when I say this but adding a small section where you are the big werewolf would be interesting to say the least.
That's so sad that you lost your chance with this girl. I know completely where your coming from! I am currently in the eighth grade and the girl I really liked moved to Texas. Were more alike than originally thought, weird right? Thanks to facebook though I recently got back in touch with her and continue to talk to her almost every day.
A side project would be excellant. You leave so much out about gregor that it would work perfectly where you make a much smaller novel about what happened to him and/or his background. I think jk Rowling does that with the Harry potter books but I could be wrong.
When I asked why Tara called him John you didn't answer exactly what I wanted to know. I wanted to know whether she knows his real name and if so why call him John?
I do have to point out what you do better than most authors. When she calls him John it works really well with the story. When an author writes his book what a reader likes (or should I say me) is when they can really get into the story. When there is an intense part in a book, don't you want the reader to feel tense? And when there is a comdedic part don't you want the reader to laugh? What am I getting at here? When some1 reads your story you want them to get the best experiance possible out of the book. When sean was called John I coulde sworn that you had a typo, so i read it again. After I read a little farthir I laughed at how I felt confused just like Sean. And isn't that what you want the reader to feel like. It's incredible when an author does a good job of it too because it completely immerses you into the story.
So to shorten that up, in no way should you take that out.
God that was a pain retyping especially cause I couldn't remember it. So in all I have to thank you for te answers because now I really can tell where you are coming from (background info)
Lol, that sucks that you had to re-type it all. I've been down that road before, so i can relate.
I did consider for a brief point in time adding something from the perspective of the big bad wolf, but I was never quite satisfied with how I imagined it to look on paper. One of the things about him/it is the fact that he really is no longer a man, and I envision the thing that he's become to have little to no cognitive thought. It has one goal and that's all that really matters to it. I felt It's thought process and the way it thinks should be portrayed as something alien and unfamiliar for our minds. I haven't completely given up yet on the idea of including something from its perspective, but my imagination just hasn't settled on anything I feel would fit well in the story at this time.
I'm pretty sure that at this point Tara has a strong inclination that "John" isn't his real name, because of the very visual affect it has on Sean whenever he hears someone address him with that word. However, she doesn't yet know his real name, but will find out in a couple of chapters and it'll be before they return to college.
I can't begin to tell you how reassuring it is to hear how the "John" affect worked out for you. The way you described it was Exactly what I was hoping a reader might get. Although, I did consider that some would find it to be too much of a distraction and not fully appreciate what I was trying to do. I'm definitely going to continue to write it with the "John" affect in there even though there may not be many more instances (if any) where I'll get to use it. When I get this first draft complete and I read from start to finish editing everything as I go I'll get my final personal opinion then, but I'll still need to hear from readers like yourself to let me know how they feel about it. Thanks again for sharing this with me ST. Your question and feedback are awesome
(Hey I'm almost up to 200 posts, yay me)
Last edited by SilentStrider (2010-05-03 05:19:47)
200 posts wow I wonder who will post the 200?
O Haha look at that! It's me!!!
Srry had to do that it was too good of a chance to pass up.
Anyways after thinking about it maybe not putting anything about the big wolf is a smart thing to do. You might need to just keep the readers wondering who he is. (haha I laugh at myself, just think about it) keeping the big werewolf as secret and dark as he is is an excellent thing to have in this story because it makes people want to know more about him. (thus....) maybe in one of your books you might have the big werewolf actually become self conscious of what he is actually doing and he gets back some more human qualities. Idk just firing off ideas here but you know where I'm coming from. After reading the story "wolf" and this I realized that you guys are almost exact opposites in writing style. You write more of the calm stories while he writes about a lot of action. I'm not directly talking to you silentstrider but more the other readers of this forum, when you get the chance read "wolf" and really pay attention to the writing styles of shadowwolf I think and silentstrider it's quite different. (personally I like silentstriders) but that may he because I read more of the mellow books.
I have to thank you for answering my questions cause I could never ask these to other authors such as umm idk the author of inkdeath (that's the book I'm currently reading)