Author Topic: of swords and sorcery  (Read 7674 times)

lantzblades

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of swords and sorcery
« on: September 16, 2013, 07:40:44 AM »
Of Swords and Sorcery

Prologue: Such is life.

I snap up in the same cold sweat I always do. My bed is comfortable and the world I live in peaceful enough but, still, the memories persist. My morning routine is the same as always. Get up, exercise in the dojo, go to the bathroom and clean myself up and, then, check the chore list for the day.

Although I’m not a narcissist I do often spend a few more minutes checking myself in the mirror then I’d consider normal. I suppose the best explanation is that I’m nervous about looking like an idiot. Or maybe I’m an idiot for being proud of my looks.

I stand a little short of six feet tall with blond hair, and green eyes that match my mother’s. I’m not as wide shouldered as my father or Uncle Archer but I’m not exactly small either.

 Not that that matters. Master says size isn’t everything, and if master says so then I believe him.

The board says I’m up for a shift at uncle’s shop, the Unlimited Bread Works. It’s owned by Archer and Mrs McRemitz. The name, however, is Archer’s, a mocking attempt at sniping my dad. Archer persists my mom came up with the name but I don't believe him.

Well, I’m wide awake so I might as well steal the breakfast shift from Rider and Aunty Sakura. Eggs, bacon, steak and juice for Mom, replace the juice, steak and bacon with milk, soup and toast for Taiga and, for the others, the same as mom but with soup instead of the steak.

Hopefully Aunty Fuji-nee won’t show up today. I love her, but she and mom have something of a rivalry, at least over breakfast. The tension is earth shattering I swear. I’m fairly certain Fuji-nee could crush Gil’s ego with a glance, so one of these days mom could lose to her.

Finishing my work, I hear the first sounds of the morning as my parents slip out of their rooms and head to the bathroom. I’ve never understood why they insist on calling it their "rooms", there isn’t even a divider and I’ve never heard of them putting one up.

Next, Aunty Sakura and Rider show up. The whole "call them by their class name" thing seems to be a habit among the former servants of the fifth war, although only Rider insists on everyone calling her such. I suppose the imagery surrounding her true name is a bit much for her.

Sakura sighs and pats my head with a look that tells me that I’m helpful, but I shouldn’t take away an old lady’s fun. Not that you’d know Aunty is as old as my dad. Sakura looks the same as she did in her old photos.

Finally the late risers show up. Tsukasa, Aunt Sakura’s daughter, and Taiga get up. I wave to Tsukasa and effortlessly scoop Taiga from her wheel chair. She giggles and wraps her tiny arms around my neck.

“Good morning Onii-chan”, she says with a smile.

Taiga is blind so I’m never sure exactly how she knows it’s me. Like me, she has powerful magic running through her. However, according to Aunty, it causes an internal loop effect or something, which makes her really frail and is the source of her blindness. Taiga can only walk short distances and is often stuck in her wheelchair.

Since Mom and Dad are using the shower we’ll be using the bathhouse. Aunty Fuji-nee had it built when she gave Dad the other five places surrounding the original house. Why or how she did it are a mystery but given that almost everyone calls her boss around town I’m not surprised she managed it.

I help Taiga with her bath and straighten out her hair; it’s a long red affair, like dad’s, and winds up looking like fire when left naturally. I get her clothes while she dries off and, once she's dressed, we go back to the house for breakfast.

And, Archer is there.

Seems like every day this week he’s been riding my ass with work and practice. I mean, seriously, he’s not even my teacher for anything, what an ass.

He looks at me with that same strange look he always has, it’s a mixture of what I can only assume is hate and pity.

“Feel up to training kid?” he asks as if I have a choice.

I’m fine with it. Actually it’s been weird, this whole last week Mom and Dad have been really lax about doing anything with me, I actually had to ask for morning practice. Maybe I should check with Merlin and see if the world is about to end.

“Yeah sure, I don’t min-”.

I’m cut off as I’m struck from behind hard.

“Are you OK, Onii-chan?” Taiga asks looking up at me with closed eyes.

“Uh, yeah. Going to have talk to Rider about where she leaves her books”, I lie.

I don’t like to tell Taiga about when Mom disciplines me outside training, she gets all puffy in the cheeks and usually refuses to talk to her for a few days if I do.

As the moment continues I find my mother staring a hole into Archer with will power alone. Noticing my tense state, her eyes shift to me, that same look of galactic annihilation present.

“After breakfast you need to go see your aunt and grandmother. You haven’t forgotten, have you?” she asks.

I can feel a heavy pressure behind her gaze and my nerves bunch up.But, just as I’m about to start sweating, Taiga squeezes my hand and I feel her frown. I break my Mother’s gaze and lean down to my tiny saviour. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back later with grand’s cookies. Maybe I can convince Aunty and the girls to come play too. But, while I’m away, can you do something for me?” I ask.

Taiga nods and I pat her head. “Keep Tsukasa and Rider company while I’m away, OK?”

She nods and smiles. I’m really lucky to have such a co-operative little sister.

I get my sneakers on and head out on my bike, it’s old, I can see where it’s been repainted and fixed repeatedly. I think it was my dad’s. The ride to grandma’s is an easy one, well for me, normal people would get a work out from a three-hour-long ride.

The castle. Yeah, my grandma lives in a castle. And, yes, I am royalty, although the castle has nothing to do with that. If it did, maybe I wouldn’t be so paranoid about my station. The forest is unusually bright today, and even hearing the wolves around I feel no need to speed up. At the large oak doors leading into the castle I find Leysritt waiting for me. She smiles, her ivory skin and deep red eyes bright and alive.

“Welcome Toshi”, she says in her soft way.

The door loudly closes, it’s obviously Sella. She and I have a strange relationship, I’m not sure but I think she has something against my dad. Well, either him or grandpa. Sella is honestly very nice but she’s also rather strict, she’s my piano teacher and terribly fussy about how Leysritt and others address me. I am the Einzbern’s heir, although I’ve never understood why that matters. Even if you include me, Leysritt and Sella there are only six Einzberns left.

Leysritt leads me inside, through the well-kept, brightly lit castle and to the back yard. I’ve been to this area many times, there’s a garden and a hedge maze with a fancy glass table for tea set out at its entrance. Past the exit of the large maze is my master’s humble home. He is still known as Hercules although he once said he considered changing it to Kevin. I really hope he was joking.

Waiting for me around the table are the three usual suspects. Aunty Ilya, Grandma Irisviel and Justica. Hot tea and cookies are set out on the table, sometimes I wonder if grandma put a tracker under my skin and makes cookies when she sees I’m coming.

Leysritt pours me tea and Sella pulls out my chair. I wish Sella would stop being so uptight and relax. Seriously, I hate being treated like I’m special because, honestly, Avalon and the whole dragon mark thing aside, I’m really not.

And, honestly, I think those things have been more trouble then they’re worth anyway. I mean, sure I can lift a car but I always have to pay attention to my strength, if I don’t I could snap someone in half. On the other hand I can at least knock that pompous dick Gilgamesh on his ass. Well, I’m strong enough to anyway, actually getting past his armour and weapons is another thing.

Who am I kidding, Gilgamesh nearly killed us barehanded, even though Connor had a spear and Souji had that magi Taser thing that disrupts magic circuits temporarily.

A sharp pain brings me out of my depressing recollection, Ilya’s thumb and forefinger are clamped to my cheek. “Pay attention!” she says, stuffing a cookie in her mouth as she often does when she’s annoyed.

Justica stares at me and I shiver, I love my family but there’s something about Justica that is inhuman. Maybe it’s because she’s the central pillar of the Grail system, but she seems unearthly when she speaks.

“Time is not a straight line and fate is not absolute”, she begins.

I watch Doctor Who and my Mage association sponsor can time travel, I already know as much, Aoko proved it… by taking a week’s wages from me.

“You need to understand this is important to remember, things are not simply what you see, do not give up and act only the way you wish, do not hesitate when obstacles appear”, she explains. Now Merlin has told me such and my mother has told me such, but I’m not sure I’ve ever believed them, whereas for some reason I believe Justica. Maybe it’s because Justica is not my teacher.

At any rate she stares for a moment before smiling. She never smiles, I’m scarred.

Ignore it, it’s fine, aside from ninja Tuesday things never get more dangerous than a magi strolling into town thinking he’s bigger than his underoos and messing with Aunty Fujimura or Grandma.

Of course all that means is he or she leaves in their underwear with burn marks all over their body.

Grandma looks between Justica and me, then to Ilya and, once certain, nearly tackle hugs me. Grandma is a very loving person, but as I feel my spine crack I’m reminded that she often takes it too far. “Now, go, Hercules is waiting for you”, she says, letting me go.

I head through the hedge maze with a wave to the three snow-white fairies as I go. After the maze, near the back of the clearing, is a barn like structure. Despite its size its occupant is still rather big for the place. The furniture, a chair, table and television are all rather large although the TV is the smallest among them being a flat screen TV which takes up a full quarter of the right wall. The back wall has photos of Master Hercules' friends and family but apart from that the house is a spartan one. I find that rather funny, Master is as usual sitting in his chair watching movies. He enjoys sports movies, mysteries and, strangely, infomercials.

“Hello Master, Grandma said you were waiting for me”, I say, greeting him.

“Not at all, although since you are here I’ll tell you a secret”, he says, offering his outstretched hand.

In it, I find a number of ornate coins.

“Here”, he says, handing them to me.

I don’t get it, but that’s the fun part of master’s secrets. I smile and nod.

“Thank you”, I tell him.

He nods and stands up from his chair, shaking the ground as he does. Or maybe that’s just his presence....

“I will be away for the next few days, take care of things as best you can.” He explains, leaving the house.

I’m left with an odd feeling I can’t describe, but I follow him out and lock up. It’s best to let master be when he has business to deal with.

After locking up, I leave the key with Leysritt and start heading home. I’d go back into the castle and see about Grandma’s cookies but I feel rather odd at the moment, like something will happen. An oppressive chill hits me as I start to ride home.

I keep wondering what master’s secret is on my ride and, somehow, I wind up at the school. Might as well check the list Aunty Fujimura leaves in the staff lounge. Students aren’t normally allowed in there, but I’ve had keys for it, and the school in general, since first year. I fix stuff around the school, I’m good at it.

The list is empty, as is the school. It’s unusual but not unheard of, it gives me more time to think. But, I hate that. I always wind up going in circles and my head hurts at the end of the day. I blame Merlin.

I go to leave through the front entrance but, as I do so, the handle shocks me.

Magic. Strong magic, too.

Damn it, Mordy, the school is not a place for a sword fight.

I run around checking the other entrances. They're sealed, even the roof.

A shiver runs through me, starting from my ears extending all the way down my spine. The song of a siren echoes through the halls and I start to sweat. I need to find a way out.

Not now.

Not today.

Not again.

As the beautiful voice gets louder, I start running but, in keeping with the Emiya family luck, I run toward the sound rather than away from it.

Damn it.

Raven black hair and aquamarine eyes meet my view. This is Sakura Tohsaka, legally my cousin, in reality my half-sister. She and I take after our mothers in terms of our looks for the most part, although Sakura takes after her namesake in her body shape. She smiles, her hand extended out in the shape of a gun.

I know what’s coming next.

I slap her hand away and run in the opposite direction as she starts to sing once more. A black mist-like ball whizzes by my head and I sigh inwardly. Sakura must be mad, she only plays gandr-ball when she’s mad.

I can’t imagine why as I dive into a classroom avoiding a speed barrage. Ruby is an asshole but I’ll thank him just this once for making Sakura sing to active her magic circuit, it gives me an idea of how much time I have to come up with a defense. Gandr-ball ends if the attacker is rendered unconscious or the defender gives up. Given Sakura’s nature she doesn’t let defenders surrender until she beats them properly.

Let’s see, desk, chair, rulers, chalk, erasers and the teacher’s desk. Fujimura’s desk.

Not much I can use as a weapon or shield.

“Sakura, I love you, can we go get ice cream and hugs?” I shout.

“Imma kill you Toshi”, she replies.

Crap, worth a shot.

“Why?” I shout back, grabbing a chair.

“You keep loafing around being wishy-washy about the clock tower. I have to keep giving the teachers and dorm girls excuses why you aren’t taking classes, it’s embarrassing”, she shouts, breaking into the classroom.

I swing the chair, but it snaps in half as her arm moves through it and wraps around my throat, whilst her other hand drives into my guy. The force of her strike causes me to vomit all over the floor, and she releases her gril on me me in order to keep her shoes clean.

The next thing I feel is water as cold as ice hitting me in the face.

“Get up boyo, Archer’s wee one dumped you on my doorstep and I’m takin my boy out on the lake. Get in the truck bed or go home, but get off my lawn” Lancer, rather Cú Chulainn, husband to Bazzet McRemitz and father of my best friend Connor McRemitz, says.

I get up with a pounding in my head and stumble into the truck bed and watch the sky run by. When the truck stops I roll out, finding myself at the lake as Lancer had said. A hard strike on my back comes with a laugh.

“Sakura dragged to you my house with a sour look on her face and a pale one on yours. I’m guessing you won then?” Connor asks, jokingly.

It’s not fair, I know sword fighting and wrestling, not bloody kung-fu. I don’t stand a chance when the fight isn’t fair.

“Shut up and hand me a fishing pole”, I snap.

I’ll never understand fishing, I mean I get it in the survival context of "eat to live", but the idea of sitting with some guys in a boat not talking for hours and then releasing what you catch is just stupid. Luckily, Cú Chulainn is neither a sport fisher nor a silent man, so he goes on telling a story about the old days as we start fishing. Not the old days as in the fifth grail war when my parents met but the really old days, ancient days when blood and war were common place. It’s an old story. By that I mean I’ve actually heard it before, when I was little, I think Archer was with me at the time. He talks about that woman who trained him, the one whose name I can’t pronounce for the life of me, the moral being "look within yourself, and commit to your choices". I’ve grown up learning lessons like that, so the details become white noise.

We get off the boat and, as the truck speeds off, I wave goodbye to them. I start walking back through the city. Evening is rolling in on the city, although all that means is the other part of the city will wake up and start working.

I stroll home, most of the shops are closing up except one. Sanada hobbies. I’ve been coming here since I was little, Aunty Fujimura started by giving me some models and I’ve continued frequenting the place ever since. Actually, thinking about it, this is the only place I spend any of the money people give me for the jobs I do. I mean, I get it, "do a job, get paid" but I hardly do anything important enough to be paid. It’s just basic stuff like fixing a roof or a pot or such. Just little things, but still they insist.

I step inside the shop. It’s empty except for one other customer and Mister Sanada himself.

“Evening Mister Sanada, do you have a mark two in?” I ask. I have a craving to build and repaint the V project.

The grey haired man turns to the wall and looks over his receipts. “Sorry Toshi, that young lady bought the last one”, he says, pointing to corner of the store. I glance over to the girl the older man is talking about.

Blue jeans, red shirt, a new baseball cap and an obviously out of place trenchcoat that screams "I’m trying to hide, ignore me". I focus on her for a minute and see a flash of blonde behind the cap.

Oh, it’s Mordred.

“Need a hobby?” I ask.

She twitches and turns toward me. “I-it is your fault, you left the dvds at my apartment. I enjoyed Char and Amuro’s dynamic”, she says, on edge.

She would like those two. Asia for the win.

“Have you gotten your tools yet?” I ask.

She looks at me as if I had just grown a second head.

“You need tin snips at least”, I explain.

Mordred looks away shyly.

“Y-you can’t blame me for that”, she stammers.

She’s cute when she gets embarrassed or nervous like this, which isn’t often.

“Mister Sanada, can you get the tools ready? I’ll pay for a full set for the young lady here”, I say.

The old man smiles and goes to the back wall producing a small toolbox and rings it up. It’s fairly expensive, but the tools last a lifetime.

I pay for it and we leave.

“So, your place or mine?” I ask.

“What? S-satoshi, I never expected you to be forward in public”, she says, making me sigh internally.

Mordred is my well-endowed, immortal-by-a-curse half-sister. She also has a weird affection for me since  my mom, her 'father', is, emotionally at least, unavailable and her mother, my aunt, is a raving bitch. This results in me being the only person to pay attention to her in any kind of healthly, accepting manner which leads to her, er, wanting to make babies with me. I get it, in her time that stuff was common and I think it’s just misinterpreted affection anyway, still it’s a little trying when she misunderstands like this.

“To build the model”, I correct her.

“Uh, oh, right, well, um my apartment is fine”, she replies, going quiet.

We head to her apartment in silence; the newer area of town is just starting to wake up. She has a penthouse, fully furnished like something you would expect of Gilgamesh, except she has better taste with subdued colours. Red, black and some blues instead of that eye-killing gold.

We set down the model box and tools and Mordred offers me a drink. I take her up on the offer and she sits next to me, turning on the television. She brings me a cola since she knows I don’t drink, although, unknown to her, I actually drink exclusively with master Hercules.

We talk about inconsequential stuff for a while and then, suddenly, I feel sleepy.

When I wake up my phone displays thirty-four missed messages. The lack of sunlight tells me it’s night-time still, or maybe again.

lantzblades

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #1 on: September 24, 2013, 12:49:38 AM »
Chapter one: Man on fire

A searing pain awakens me suddenly and I find myself in an alleyway. Stumbling to my feet, I immediately trip and plant my face into the nearby brick wall.

"Ow, stupid wall", I mutter, as another searing pain and the urge to vomit assault me.

I give in to the latter, but resist the urge to pass out that the former delivers along with a sharp memory, a bus load of kids held hostage by a lunatic. I can see the rooftop; I can feel the weight of a bow, thirty four lives stuck on a bridge at the mercy of some madman who will honestly detonate a biohazard device killing the majority of a city's population if he isn't returned one decrepit old man.

The police won't act quickly enough. In the end, I know that this person's memory, the shadow of him, came to a decision. The way he felt was obvious.

He wanted to die, right then and there. His dark hands notched the magic arrow, a noble phantasm, and fired at the bus.

No one screamed. There wasn't time.

As the man walked away, his heart and soul turned to steel.

I vomit after the memory ceases, emptying my stomach completely. Limping from the alley I start to recall how I got here in the first place.

I stopped by the temple on the way back home. A mistake to be sure, but there’s nothing I can do now but live with the guilt.

Kuzuki greeted me sharply but, instead of his usual banter, my classmate and friend turned me away, giving me his notebook.

He's very secretive about the bloody thing to the point where he punched my sister Sakura in the throat just for trying to get a peek at it. Yet, there he was just handing me the damn thing. Somehow, I mustered up the force of will not to look inside when he told me to just get my dad to give it to Medea next time he saw her.

I'll honor his wish, but I'll have to give it to her myself. Dad took a sword through his chest, he's gone.

Come to think of it, Medea probably is too. And Master.

I hit my knees and scream incoherently. Nothing but curses and rage leave my body and, when there's no more left, the tears start.

That gold bastard took everyone. And, in the end, Merlin's magic failed to send me back in time so I could save them.

I remember the sight of Gilgamesh violating my Aunt Sakura as he snapped my little sister's neck like a twig. I rushed him, only to be skewered and pinned to the ground, he broke my wrist and my ribs, and then he ripped my right arm off before cutting Sakura open and dumping the contents of her body, blood and all, into a bucket.

Then he jammed a funnel in my mouth and emptied Sakura’s blood into it, before putting my eyes out.

The memory fuels my rage and I stand up and start marching towards the school, it's a meeting place for my friends and I.

Once Avalon began to heal me the next thing I remember was Archer dragging me towards the church. I don't know how I became unstuck or how I was fighting near the bridge but that's where my memory of him dragging me begins.

I stumble out of the alley, it's night-time, Merlin's stupid spell failed. Magnificent, my ass.

I get strange looks as I hike through town to the school. It's not surprising, I am dressed in Archer's body armor and his cloak.

Both are in poor condition, tattered and cracked. What's worse is that they were ill-fitting even when they were new.

Arriving at the school I find it deserted and no one around.

No, wait, that's the same thing. I sit down to clear my head and realize finally that my right arm hurts. Taking a look I remember why - it's a lumbering, mismatched meat stump.

Archer dragged me into the church, followed by Sakura. No, wait, the girl in the memory can't be my half sister, she's too short. Sakura is six foot two, right?

Yeah, yeah of course she is. So, this woman must be Rin. So Rin then surgically cleaves her husband's arm off and, not unlike a war surgeon, sews it to my shoulder.

I guess it was to save my life, but I can't help by feel guilty and angry at the same time.

That idiot could have beaten Gilgamesh single-handedly, no pun intended, if he had both arms.

Instead, he saved me, only for Merlin’s spell to backfire. Meandering the grounds I find that Gilgamesh had wrecked the place. Most of the buildings are missing. He even paid for guys to clean up afterwards.

Wait a minute. Even if he paid them in the middle of the night, they couldn't have finished in half a day.

That means that the school is just missing buildings because they haven't been built yet.

So, the spell actually worked!

Suddenly I feel light, lighter then I ever have before.

It worked. I can tell the others about the attack, I can stop it from happening!

A voice rings out in the night air.

"You smell like a servant, boyo."

Spinning around, I catch the vague silhouette of a man carrying a pole like object.

Before I can reply, he attacks. My body reacts in an alien way, blocking the attack with a pair of swords.

Archer's swords.

My body burns and my chest erupts in a storm of steel.

Cú Chulainn backs away.

"Thought for a second you were that bowman, but clearly you ain't", he says.

He pauses and I feel a chill as he grins. I feel the magic build up in the air and my body goes numb as the burning stops.

Gae Bolg. It exits my chest before I even hear him call its name.

I don't even gurgle as I slide to the ground, feeling each barb as it passes me by. My vision fades and I go deaf.

Damn it, I can't die here....

Alice

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #2 on: September 24, 2013, 03:25:17 AM »
I'm glad to see you take rape so lightly lantz. Because there's clearly no other way to establish the bad guy other than have him rape a poor defenseless woman and have her undergo torture porn. No way at all. But then, that's probably too much for my tiny little woman brain to comprehend isn't it? 

The moment you resort to using rape as set up like this, and combine it with this much tell instead of show, and make a raped women and a young girl's horrible deaths the main motivation for the big strong man to save the world, your story becomes so much more cheaper for it. It's Women in Refrigerators, and it's a god awful overused trope that is horribly sexist to boot.

You haven't learned a damn thing from what anyone's told you elsewhere, which is evident in your prose. And now you have the nerve to pull this in your story. What little respect I had for you as a writer is now gone.   

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lantzblades

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #3 on: September 24, 2013, 03:37:32 AM »
I have no idea what you are thinking. I'm not treating anything lightly. As I showed his memories are inconsistent. I don't care what you think of my writing but let me be very clear. DON'T YOU EVER ACCUSE ME OF BEING A MISOGYNIST  OR OF TREATING RAPE WITH A JOKING TONE. I WILL NOT BE SLANDERED.

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #4 on: September 24, 2013, 03:51:04 AM »
It's not that you used it in a joking manner, it's that you're using rape as no more than a cheap plot device, which is insulting as hell AND overdone. It wasn't intentionally sexist, but it IS sexist. The fact that you'd use rape as a device to advance the plot and establish the bad guy as bad so casually is insulting.

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lantzblades

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #5 on: September 24, 2013, 03:57:24 AM »
Alice you are wrong. I'm not about to explain why here, I'll pm you. Suffice to say it wasn't the rape it was the complete annihilation of his family that drives him here. Sakura is the only clear memory at this point, yes it was horrible but every character dies in a cruel way which matches there own continuity. Sakuras was rape because that is the scar carried with her.

Alice

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #6 on: September 24, 2013, 04:07:02 AM »
....Ok, that last one makes me honestly want to hurt you. "Sakura's was rape because that's the scar she carries?" HOW DARE YOU!!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!!!!

You are not fit to write a delicate scenario like this. Toshi is awful calm after watching a woman getting raped and fed her fucking entrails. That in itself shows you used it for cheap villain establishment. I probably shouldn't be so angry about this but... ARGH!

If you're going to write something like this, at least have the decency to Show instead of Tell. And to have your character actually act traumatized instead of just calmly moving on (which is how he appears, even if that wasn't your intent), which makes it worse.

Or better yet, avoid using Women in Refrigerators to frame your plot altogether. It's already oversaturated in media as it is, which in a way is kinda horrifying. Don't write this type of scene unless you know what you're doing and are willing to treat the subject with the care that it deserves.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2013, 04:19:16 AM by Alice »

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #7 on: September 24, 2013, 04:19:04 AM »
I told you that I would pm you but fine.  Given that you refuse to listen to me. See here's the thing. The story has mystery, it has to. And it will be explained. But since you won't do anything but attack me I quit. I had a plan. Worked on the damn story for years, researched the fuck out of damn near everything I could  but that's not enough for any of you.

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #8 on: September 24, 2013, 04:28:03 AM »
RAPE ISN'T "MYSTERY!" IT'S SOMETHING GOD DAMN HORRIBLE THAT HAPPENS TO REAL PEOPLE IN REAL LIFE, MEN AND WOMEN ALIKE!!!! HOW DARE YOU LABEL THAT AS "MYSTERY!!!!"

The fact that you're using such dismissive terms for something like this clearly shows you have no respect for what rape is and the immense trauma it causes to the victims. That is what infuriates me this much. I would not be raging nearly as much as I am right now if it weren't for this. Bad writing by itself is not sufficient enough to make me this angry. When its combined with something as insulting like this, especially with all your dismissal of criticism? It sets me off.

You researched everything? What about the violations to canon? And more importantly, what about the experiences of REAL LIVE VICTIMS of the type of shit you just introduced to your plot as one off drama!

The fact that it's fiction or fanfiction absolutely does NOT absolve you of considering what you write. I don't care if you took years or minutes, it does not mean you don't have to listen to criticism or consider how you're portraying certain actions or people.


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lantzblades

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #9 on: September 24, 2013, 04:32:47 AM »
I never said rape was mystery. Now stop attacking me. I wanted to pm you to explain bit you keep attacking me.

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #10 on: September 24, 2013, 04:43:52 AM »
I'm not attacking you, or at least that's not my intent- I'm explaining why I'm so pissed off. Naturally since I'm angry, it doesn't come off as as friendly as it should.

And you said "the story has mystery, it has to." Since the discussion is about the torture scene, it likely refers to that as well. Which is why it comes off as insulting. You shouldn't use a scene like that to add "mystery." Especially when it involves a delicate subject.

I'm not saying that it shouldn't be written about ever. Just that it needs to be written with care and understanding. The torture scene shows neither of these things. It's quite possible to write such a scene well and have it not come off as insulting, but the framing here and the way it's written makes it really bothersome even if it *was* written well.

It's the type of scene that takes real thought, careful planning, and the right framing to use correctly. Otherwise you simply insult the actual victims. You don't show that here, and thus it comes off as insulting, even if that's not your intent.
« Last Edit: September 24, 2013, 04:46:15 AM by Alice »

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #11 on: September 24, 2013, 04:58:52 AM »
For Christ's sakes. It's first person, it's not the event it's what he remembers of the event. Which giving that he's suffering from amnesia and PTSD  isn't much. I even went to lengths to illustrate as much.

I'm honestly sick of getting attitude when I try to keep out of everyone else face. I was planning on continuing to write the story but frankly your attacks have ruined the atmosphere here.

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #12 on: September 24, 2013, 05:27:35 AM »
Then the freaking trauma should be clear as day then, since it's from a traumatized person's perspective. He doesn't come off as traumatized, his recollection is too calm for that. The point of Show versus Tell isn't how much detail you give, it's Showing how the character feels as opposed to just telling.

His memories shouldn't be all nice and neat like this, they should be fragmented and scattered. He should probably be having trouble forming coherent thoughts to begin with, and have trouble communicating with others. Which is, quite frankly, what kinda makes it insulting. He's a bit calm and a bit quick to be on the warpath for someone that went through so much. He shouldn't be capable of being snarky. He should be lost, disoriented. He'd need months if not years of recovery.

When something that bad happens to you, you can hardly think straight. Even in the milder cases, it's harder to form coherent thoughts, let alone actually snark about it. You can't stop thinking about what you can recall from the event, no matter how hard you try. It just keeps eating at you, and eating at you, and eating at you. You alternate from feeling numb to not being able to stop crying. You try to move forward but it's not easy. Even after it's all over, the thoughts of it haunt you for years afterward. It's not like you're helpless or anything, but the memories will haunt you for the rest of your life. It doesn't go away. It doesn't begin to heal in a matter of minutes. And it's insulting to assume that it does.

I don't see that you did research on PTSD. PTSD is very hard on the people who get it. It makes it harder to do certain things, makes you more numbed emotionally, makes certain images and stories really unpleasant to sit through. It's not an easy thing to deal with. There's a reason why they have therapy and support groups for this stuff, it's needed.

The whole way you wrote it shows that you don't understand that. Again, there's certain sensitive subjects that require a hell of a lot of research and consideration in order to portray with respect. This doesn't show that at all. 

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #13 on: September 24, 2013, 05:48:01 AM »
Please desist in your attacks. You've been jumping down my throat for the last few days and this place is very close to becoming a hostile environment.  I have explanations for the story but frankly I'm inclined to believe anything I say to explain the whys of the story will just be used as a weapon against me.

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Re: of swords and sorcery
« Reply #14 on: September 24, 2013, 05:57:41 AM »
Okay, lantz, in order to keep this argument from going, and since I already spoke with Alice, I'll try to explain the issue a bit better.

The issue isn't how the rape and torture, but how you wrote it. Basically, the usual "Show, don't tell". I understand it's supposed to be a memory, and that his mind is messed up. However, even if that's the case, it's written more like a small footnote rather than a traumatic memory. Even fragments of a memory require more descriptions than normal.

Show his feelings, his anger at what's happening, describe it. What he saw, what he experienced. As it stands, the whole thing seems glossed over by the narration, which, obviously, wasn't your intention. Based on your comments, you'll probably explain it later in the fic, but at least do understand why Alice reacted like so. Because of the above, and how delicate the topic is in the first place, it seems disrespectful, even if it wasn't your intention.

Just throwing my two cents there.