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Symphony's Requiem: Chapter 4
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Emperor



Joined: 02 Nov 2004
Posts: 471
Location: San Diego, CA

Posted: Thu Mar 11, 2010 1:17 pm    Post subject: Symphony's Requiem: Chapter 4  

Chapter 4

Warning. This story contains strong language, scenes of violence and other matter that may be offensive. For mature readers only.
How did she know that the detective was here asking about her, he walked into his kitchen and opened his old stained refrigerator. The smell of old Freon and the mixture of freshly cooked eggs with toast and bacon filled his senses. He pulled out the plate of good food and almost considered eating it just for a moment. Something about the words “…consider us even” resounded in his head along with the image of the pity he thought he saw in her eyes on that day set his body in motion. The next thing he knew he was tossing the food down his garbage disposal along with the note, he turned on both the faucet then the Food-erator. It chugged and bit into the food and the paper for several minutes until all that was left was the sound of the spinning blades. He took another swig off his bottle, as he made his way to the door he fumbled around in the candle holder that held his keys and miscellaneous change and took out the keys and a handful of the latter. He made his way down to the corner of his block where there was a small liquor store. He was making his way into the small store and he paused halfway between the entrance and the payphone that stood near the store front. Leif looked at the change clutched in his fist, then at the payphone and then back to his fist. A strange look of contemplation set upon his face, as if he was weighing two great issues with benefits and consequences. Leif changed his direction and cut across the parking lot toward the payphone. Not really heeding or paying attention to the exact amount, he began jamming in random coins into the machine until a helpful and cheery woman’s voice told him that it was enough money to make a local call. He punched in the numbers and he fanned that rage inside him waiting for the rings to finish.

“You’ve reached where you have called so leave a message.”

His rage fell away and instead a very familiar feeling of confusion sank in, somehow he had called his own phone. He hung up the phone and dug into the pocket of the sweatpants that he was wearing but didn’t feel the piece of paper and then remembered that it was in his jeans. Leif squinted at the number pad on the surface of the payphone trying to imagine the numbers he had dialed, he was pretty certain that he had not dialed his own phone number. He lifted off the receiver and placed the coins in one by one again, this time he pushed the numbered buttons very carefully. The phone toned back at him and he heard a ringing again, one, two, three, four and five.

“You’ve reached where you’ve called… leave a message.”

“Uhhhh, okay.”

It was all he could think of to say and then he hung up the phone again. He had wanted to leave her a message that put a very fine point on how he exactly felt about her charity and her pity. Leif rubbed at his newly shaven face, his confusion deepening even more. Her message machine made her voice sound lower and more warbled but it was her voice. Somehow Leif had gotten so confused by the almost exact message that they both had on their machines that Leif thought he had called himself. The phone made a metallic chugging sound as his change was safely deposited in its metal stomach. Leif turned and started to make his way home, but by the time he reached his apartment security gate he just didn’t feel like going back there. So instead he kept walking, he walked and walked his mind blank as images and faces swept past him. Soon the wind cooled and the light dimmed and by the time he realized he was tired and should stop to breathe he realized that the sun had started to make its way into the ocean. His feet screamed at him from all of the walking he had done, and even though at the time he was unaware of it, he could tell that he would have blistered and raw feet for the next few weeks. Leif made his way to the shore, the sun shining red, pink, orange and golds across the ocean. He didn’t know how or why he walked the near fifteen miles to get to the beach, but for the first time in a very long time he felt half alive again. Leif stood there letting the cool, briny wind spray across his face, just soaking up the light of the sunset. Unbidden the memory of the last time he had gone to the beach came to him, it would be the last time he saw Stephen.

It was a cold night and the moon hung fat and jealous of the company he was keeping that night. The light of the moon highlighted the low cresting waves making them look like molten silver. There was something about the times they spent together at this spot, there were times when it just felt like there was something more in the air or moving the stars when they went to this beach about once every two months. Stephen with his pale features didn’t seem to be affected by the coldness of the night but Leif was shivering. They both looked out over the ocean, salty tear tracks freshly dried on both of their cheeks. Leif put his arm around Stephen’s shoulders, “We will be okay, right?”

Stephen kept his gaze on the ocean, “I think so, I mean she will come back from the grave if we fall apart over this.”

Leif laughed, not because it was true but because Kelly would have thought it was funny. The image of her lithe dancers body, crawling out of the grave, shuffling and hobbling along – was just like all three of their humor, morbid and vaguely ironic.

Stephen turned his artificial, icy blue eyes on Leif’s plain, natural blue ones, “Your shivering like a, … like a leaf.”

Leif rolled his eyes, “Harde – harr – har. You sooo funny.”

All of the humor left Stephen’s eyes and again tears threatened to engulf him, “She fought till the end.”

All Leif could do was nod, he knew that he should be proud of her, how his beautiful Kelly, the woman he wanted to marry but couldn’t fall in love with, fought till the very end. As each part of her body shut down and succumbed, as her fever climbed and climbed, as they put more and more tubes into her, as each bedsore grew into huge, raw infections - she fought on. But all he could think of were the thoughts of his mother on her own deathbed not just two years ago, how the cancer had spread into her lymph nodes and from there all hope was gone. All he could think of was how sick the chemotherapy and radiation treatments made her, and how no matter how sick she got she fought on and suffered on. There was a part of Leif, a part he couldn’t help, a part he didn’t want to acknowledge that just wanted Kelly to give up. He didn’t want to see her suffer like this; he didn’t want Stephen to think that there was hope for her just because she had made it longer than any doctor thought was possible. Leif had seen so much death before Kelly and before his mother, and as much as he didn’t want to believe it he knew that it was only a matter of time for Kelly. So even on the day the doctor told them that she would most likely “pass on” that day, Kelly, being stubborn till the end waited a little more than fifteen minutes after midnight until her body finally gave up the fight.

Stephen and Leif had spent the whole night on the beach until the sun came up over the cliffs behind them. They talked about all the times they had spent together or apart, they talked about the funny times and hard times. They talked about how it felt that nothing could break the friendship the three of them had, not death, not life, not even the end of all time. They talked about how much each of them resented how everyone called them the Three Musketeers. And by the end of the night and the beginning of the day, Stephen and Leif felt no sense of relief or easing of their souls but at the very least they proved to themselves that the bond was still as strong between them. And through that bond they could honor the memory of the most important person they both knew. The last thing Leif told Stephen was that he would see him tomorrow at the coffee shop and he made his way home. Sometime that afternoon his phone rang, the call that would begin his slow decent into this half life that he had been living. The voice on the other end of the phone let him know that Stephen had been hit by a drunk driver while walking home.

Leif could feel his throat tighten, he could feel the tears trying to burn their way out of his eyes, but he hadn’t cried since that night on the beach. No matter how much he wanted to or didn’t want to he couldn’t cry at Stephen's funeral, or even at his wake when person after person came up to the podium to give some tear filled speech of their memories of him. Stephen's mother had wanted him to give the final speech but when he got up to the podium, while he was looking out at all those faces he couldn’t find anything to say and just walked away. Leif began making his way toward the water, some part of his brain wondered if it would hurt to take a deep breath of that salty water. He made his way into the tide, the water was cold and sharp but he kept walking. Leif wanted to wash himself clean, he wanted the cold water to rush into his mouth, his lungs and freeze over this zombie he had become. It was not that he was psychotically depressed he was just too tired to go on; he was too tired of having to wait for what he thought was a miserable existence to end. Leif had made his way far enough into the surf that the water reached to his knees on his six foot, three inch frame, when he saw the silhouette on the rocks. He turned to look and saw a figure standing silhouetted by the suns setting pallet, standing on the edge of a rock jetty. She had her arms stretched out wide and her head thrown back, the wind was lightly whipping her hair behind her. She stood on her tiptoes and every now and then she would spin like a leaf or a Box Elder seed caught in the wind. Leif stopped in his tracks, the weak tide sucking at his legs as if the ocean was still trying to claim him. Instead though he made his way toward the jetty, the siren call of his depression forgotten for the moment. He had gotten more than three quarters of the way toward the rocks when the figure spotted him and turned. She shouted over the wind which was blowing against his back now, “Lee?”

₰ ₰ ₴ ₴ ₰ ₰

Wendy could feel the acid in her stomach bubble and churn as she finished off the last, cold dreg of her third chocolate flavored coffee. All morning she had been calling co-workers, acquaintances and acquaintances of co-workers, trying to find someone who knew anything about the victims of the accident. What she had found out was that they most likely had been taken to the county morgue and should be waiting to be processed. The question was how to get access to the reports and the findings without losing her job, trying to avoid things like “conflict of interest” could be tricky. So far she didn’t know anyone who had access or would be willing to risk letting her get the information that she needed. Of course she could wait while the requisite weeks passed after she filled out the necessary endless paperwork to equally endless institutions while just hoping that they would actually grant her the information. Wendy looked at her bag that held her uniform; she felt the flittering of butterfly wings in her stomach as an idea formed. She walked over, opened the bag and took out everything in it.

At least it’s my dirty one. She thought as she put her camera, a pocket note pad, pen and multitool inside the bag. She grabbed her phone and punched in a number she had not dialed in years. While the first two rings squealed in her ears, she hoped that this was still his number. By the forth ring a deep voice with an accent answered.

“Kuba Steele Designs, how can I be of help?”

“Kumanda?”

“Yes this is me, if I may ask who is this?”

“Drum and breath! It’s Wendy, how are you?”

“Jislaak! Wendy, my long lost china?”

“Howzit chommie?” She hoped she was remembering the slang right, it had been too long since she had had to use it.

“Besides missing my suster who I smaak stukkend.”

The meaning of that last piece of slang came to her slowly, when it did her smile widened even more. It warmed her heart to hear Kumanda say that he missed her and still loved her to pieces.

“I’m sorry I dropped out on you, it has been a little crazy lately.”

“How crazy are we talking?”

“Befok.” This was probably in her top ten pieces of slang that she liked, even though it meant ‘crazy’ or ‘really crazy’ depending on how much emphasis you put on it. She also knew that it was most likely a combination of two words – ‘Be fucked’.

She could hear him take a deep breath and she knew it was from concern.

“Anything I can do to help?”

“That’s what I was calling about actually, you remember that friend you were telling me about, the one who does your sketches.”

“Yeah, you mean Ignacio.”

“Does his girlfriend still work at the examiner’s office?”

“Last I heard she did, but they called it off a few months back.”

“Damn! That was my last hope, I guess I’ll just have to break in.”

“Now you are befok. What you need?”

“I hate to ask you for this, but I need to either get into the county morgue or get access to some autopsy reports.”

“Ubuntu suster. I’ll ask him and call you back.”

“Ubuntu broer. Thanks.”

The phone clicked dead and she took out her uniform from the bag, with nothing else to do but wait she began the long process of altering both her company name and her own with a razor and a pair of tweezers. Of all the phrases of all the slang that she had learned from Kumanda Ubuntu was her favorite. The concept that a person is only a person through other people – it went further than this, it touched on connectedness to those around you. To Kumanda when he said Ubuntu suster, Wendy knew he was saying, I will do all that I can to help you in any way I can, because being connected to you makes me more whole as a person.

₰ ₰ ₴ ₴ ₰ ₰

Ignacio hated moments like this, moments where he knew he should be creating, keeping a fine edge on what was his talent – but instead his pencil hovered over a blank page. A blank page that not only haunted him with its ultimate potential for anything that was possible, but also projected his own disappointment back at him for not being able to fill out. He felt the tightness around his eyes begin to strain on his temples as the overhead light continued to reflect back the vast emptiness of the white page. He was finding it difficult to work on anything but his most recent urban sketches. What had started out as a simple exercise on lines, depth and shadows on an urban scene had turned into a three piece series with no end in sight. Ignacio would find himself always going back to one of the three pieces and adding more and more to each piece. There would be times when he would start work on one, flipping to another and then going to the third. By the time he finally looked up from his work, the sun had gone down and he must have gone back and forth between the three drawings thirty or more times. The phone rang in the living room; Ignacio took a deep breath and was glad at the distraction. He checked the caller I.D. and saw that it was Kumanda, Ignacio hoped that it wasn’t a new order, he just wasn’t sure he could actually finish it.

“What’s up Gigantor?”

“Hello my friend. How is your family?”

This was one of those cultural differences that no amount of time spent away from Kumanda’s homeland that could ever change. There was some unwritten rule that by asking how his family was doing before anything else was discussed showed you how much he respected you. Though there was a second function to the question also, it let you know that something serious was about to be discussed very shortly.

“They are doing good Kumanda and how is your family doing?”

“It has been too long since we have had conversation with one and the other, what I know is that they have not felt the blood of the rebels.”

Ignacio could not imagine a life where every five to ten years, one group or another banded together and cut a bloody swath through the land all under the pretense of unifying the people.

“I’m happy for them and I hope to meet them one day.”

Kumanda’s deep laugh still carried its timber even through the phone receiver, warm as the earth under a high sun.

“You say that now my friend and it may be much early than you are thinking.”

There was a short pause, which let Ignacio know that he was now moving onto the more important matter.

“I have favor of you I must ask.”

Ignacio noted the word ‘must’ in that sentence, subconsciously he picked up his pencil and flipped to one of the three drawings and began to work on deepening shadows. Kumanda hardly used words like ‘must’ when he asked for favors. Ignacio did his best to keep his response cool.

“What’s up?”

Ignacio flipped to a different drawing of the set.

“I have need of you to call Isleta.”

A mix of emotions fell out of his heart and went to his knees; suddenly he needed to sit down. The only thing he could think of to say was a question.

“Are you sure?”

“She is the only one I know that can help my friend Wendy.”

“Why does your friend need help and how can Isleta help?” As much as he tried Ignacio couldn’t keep the defensive tone out of his voice.

“I did not ask her why she needed help.”

“That kinda figures.” Ignacio winced a little after the words came out. “I didn’t mean that.”

“All is well friend; I know this is not an easy thing to ask of you. I would not have asked but there are very little choices now.”

“What kind of help am I asking Isleta for?”

“Wendy has need of access to where your city keeps the unnamed dead, the ummm, what did she call it, an examination office.”

This was not only a serious request but a weird one.

“Didn’t you mention that she is a paramedic, can’t she just walk in, or call a doctor or something?”

“It seems she has tried, that calling me was her last resort – it is a matter of ubuntu broer.”

Ignacio knew it would come to this, he didn’t know how much the concept of Ubuntu would persuade Isleta into helping but he had to try.

“I’ll see what I can do Kumanda, I’ll see what I can do. Give me Wendy’s contact information, I’ll call Isleta, we’ll see what happens. I can’t promise anything.”

“I thank you my friend, all you can do is try. Blood and fire broer.”

“Back at you.”

Ignacio hung up the phone, took a deep breath and dialed the number he had long since memorized.

₰ ₰ ₴ ₴ ₰ ₰

Symphony looked at him with soft, mismatched eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?" She asked in a voice so low it could have been the wind. Even after how he had yelled at her she was still being civil to him, with an iron will he pushed away another similarity that she shared with Kelly.

“I don’t know anymore.”

Leif didn’t know why he said that, he meant to give her the polite response that yes; he was fine, thank you for asking and how was she. Though instead a truth that even he didn’t know was there came out instead.

Symphony came around to his side and put her arm around his shoulders, her thin arms felt as light as a birds wing.

“Let’s get out of the water, you’re shivering.”

Leif let her guide him up to the gritty sand of the beach, he was looking down at her bare feet with its chipped polish and his soaked shoes.

“Were you really at my apartment?”

Symphony chewed on her bottom lip and gently urged him to sit down on the dryer sand well away from the waters edge.

“Yes, you were very sick.”

She began to dig a small hole with her hands that was about three feet around and a foot deep.

“How did you get in?”

Leif watched her as she gathered up pieces of driftwood and scavenged planks from the mostly burnt husks of wooden pallets. Between the pieces of wood she placed old, dried seaweed that looked liked grass. She laughed lightly.

“You really should stop drinking so much Lee, your memory is terrible. You let me in.”

The question of how she was able to find so many pieces of wood so easily seemed to slip from the front of his mind.

“What about my window? Were you the one who did that… I thought, I thought I saw someone kneeling – in – my window.”

She took a wooden friction match and struck its tip against the side of one of the wooden planks. The match hissed and flared brightly for a moment, even over the smell of the ocean, Leif could catch the strong odor of sulphur from the little fire-making tool. When the fire took she set it to the dry seaweed and sat back as it grew.

“Did you know that when matches were first made they used to be called “Lucifer’s?”

She stated the question like she was remembering something from a long time ago, the fire crackled, popped and grew and soon Leif could feel its warmth seeping into his body, cowing his shivering into submission.

“In the beginning, most people wouldn’t even use them in the open being afraid of being in league with the devil or hold sway with dark powers. It took a bright merchant getting smokers to use them to get them into favorable opinion.”

She turned to look at him and smiled just a little, it was a smile that spoke of sadness more than humor.

“What were you doing in the water Lee, trying to ruin a pair of perfectly good sweat pants?”

Leif looked away staring at the shadow he was casting to his side. The silence hung between them for a brief moment and then he heard her speak again.

“Listen I know it’s really none of my business Lee, but as strange as this may sound I’m a little worried about you. I mean things can’t be that bad can they?”

Leif looked up again, a little of that old anger gleaming in his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried to get a hold on it.

“I’m not ungrateful for what you did for me at the cemetery, ninety nine out of a hundred people would have just walked by, but you didn’t. But I don’t know anything about you and you don’t know anything about me, so you can stop pretending to care. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy or pity or self serving need to reach out and ‘rescue’ me.”

Symphony just kept looking at him, then she pulled her knees up to her chest like she did at the cemetery but this time she rested her chin on top of them.

“Since when was it necessary to know someone to care about them?”

Leif wrinkled his brow in slight confusion; he looked off a little to the left to actually think about the question.

“What do you mean, I mean it’s not like people go around caring about complete strangers to them. You basically have to know someone to care about them, otherwise it just … nothing but a bunch of projected sympathy for your own issues.”

“That’s one way to look at it, but that’s not how I look at it, I think you can care about someone without knowing even a single thing about them.”

Leif noticed something strange about her shadow that was dancing behind her in the moving firelight. When he concentrated on it he could swear that her shadow had short hair, but each time he was certain it would shift again due to the angle of the light.

“And how do you do that?”

Leif looked up from her shadow and the light of the fire glinted off her eyes seeming to make them glow on the inside like a cat.

“It’s pretty easy really; all you have to do is assume one essential thing in everyone you meet.”

The warmth of the fire and the ease of the conversation seemed to seep out the anger that was there earlier. He waited for her to finish rather than ask the obvious question.

“You simply have to assume that the person you are meeting has some intrinsically worthwhile trait in them. If you can do that then you can care about them because no matter what they are doing, or involved in, or are a part of, that part of them that is worthwhile is also worthwhile to care about what happens to it if they are going too far off track.”

Leif tilted his head down as if that would make what she said be able to sink in easier. Her chiming laugh floated from across the fire to him.

“You are thinking about it too hard, Lee. It all really comes down to you being able to say to yourself, ‘Hey, that person, that person right in front of me may be a complete stranger but that doesn’t mean I have to ignore what they might have to offer me.”

“How can you know they have something to offer, I mean they could be a serial killer or any number of horrendous things? They could go home every night and beat their children half to death, how does someone like that have anything worthwhile or even anything to offer.”

Symphony sighed and rested her chin back down on her knees.

“I’m not saying your always right, what I’m saying is that you have to give people a chance. It’s like that whole saying that your justice system is so fond of touting over everyone, ‘Innocent until proven guilty.’”

She got up gracefully and pulled at the edges of her long arm sleeves so that her hands were covered.

“The great majority of people live their lives in complete isolation of each other. There is no sense of a greater responsibility to how living so close together in schismatic, broken tribes and how that affects everyone else. People live right next door to hundreds of others and they don’t even know their next door neighbor's names.”

Symphony turned her back to the fire and him, looking out over the ocean.

“You lock yourselves away in your small groups of people who you value as important and everyone else doesn’t matter. Meanwhile that person right next to you, that person passing you as you walk down the street could be, for all that you know, be the most influential person you may ever meet.”

She wrapped her arm around herself, either to shield herself from the cold wind or the colder stream of realizations.

“Maybe you can tell me Lee, maybe you can tell me the next time we meet, if we ever meet again that is. Which one is more important, the people you think that are important or the potential of importance? One keeps you safe and isolated; one makes you vulnerable but open. Each has its own reward if you can see it and each has its drawback if you can see it.”

She turned to face him again and that same sad smile was on her face.

“I have to go Lee, its getting kind of late.”

And then like a character out of a movie or novel she executed a nearly perfect curtsy and began walking away from the ocean. As she began to walk into the darkness, her form slightly swayed as if she couldn't help but dance just a little with the wind. A tumble of words and questions swam and choked up in his throat. He didn’t know when he would see her next, he had to say what he wanted to before she disappeared out of his life again. Leif stood up, “Wait!”

She paused but didn’t turn.

₰ ₰ ₴ ₴ ₰ ₰


Wendy had finished an hour ago altering her uniform and she still had not heard back from Kumanda. He would call or email every now and then asking her more and more specific questions, she could only trust that he had a lead into the M.E.’s office. The last time they spoke she had pretty much spelled out everything there was – except for the fact of how eerie it was all making her. Then hours passed with no call, no email, no anything. She did not know how much longer she could wait; she might have to sneak into the examiner’s office after all. She grabbed her bag and her keys, and just as she was about to put her laptop to sleep, it sung out that she had an email. She clicked the icon and saw that the senders address, iskd@iskd.com was not one that she recognized. She almost sent it to the spam graveyard when she noticed the subject line, Unbuntu request. Her heart quickened as she opened it.

Dear Wendy,

I would have had K send this to you but considering what info you needed, should things go bad I don’t want it tracked to him. I’m sure you understand. Let’s just hope that no one is looking into this. The most I could do is get the reports for you, but there were only two, according to my source only two ever arrived – there was no third body. I’ll just summarize what I was given, here you go.


A: No hits on dental or fingerprints as of yet, my source will let me know if that changes. Weird though.

B: Both bodies had a tattoo of three, one inch, vertical lines with a slight wave pattern. No correlation to known gangs, cults or organizations. No other personal affects were found.

C: Rigor, witnesses’ testimony, police reports all put time of death between 1:00 and 1:30 pm.

D: Postmortem shows multiple breaks and fractures of bones consistent with strikes with vehicles traveling at high speeds. Both bodies show massive internal injuries that concur with this. Both bodies showed injuries to the neck with third and fourth degree burns. Injuries resemble bite marks of a large predatory animal, something akin to a mountain lion. The examiner took photos and what castings he could. Samples of the burns have been sent for testing of accelerants. The examiner states that he is uncertain of the cause of both the bite wounds and the burns.

E: All reports have been filed with the Department Of Justice, tissue samples have been stored and the jaws of both victims have been removed and are being stored for possible future identification.

I’ve attached the files sent to the DOJ, this is all I could get, I hope this helps. Call or email me if you think of any questions that I didn’t answer.

Best of luck,
Ignacio.

Wendy cursed lightly under her breath, there was nothing in this email that she didn’t already know. She didn’t know exactly what she was hoping to hear but she knew that this wasn’t it. She opened the attachments with the files send to the D.O.J. She skimmed through most of the preliminaries like age, height and whatnot. She read the examiner’s notes and they were pretty much as described in Ignacio’s email. Then she saw the pictures, her hand stopped and her breath caught in her throat. On the first victim, where his ruined throat should be burnt and torn to a gaping mess was a scar. In the middle of the scarred flesh were three lines that were raised, and like the tattoo’s they had a slight waving pattern to them as well. Wendy didn’t understand how the examiner could have missed this, she scrolled up the report to see if she somehow missed that. She finished rereading the section and in the examiner’s report there were only descriptions of the burnt wound, there was no mention of a scar. She scrolled to the top and was determined to read the file line for line again. Her hand stopped again as her mind caught up to her confusion and emotions. The case file code and the identification number – it wasn’t possible, it didn’t make any sense. She read it one more time before grabbing her keys.

Case #: L-12 E7 I F456
Originating Identification: t0L44LaRT







I know I didn’t leave many options for Wendy and Ignacio (which I'm not saying that if you can think of something for them I won't try to put it in), but at the very least now we have the chance to ask Symphony anything that we have been wanting to. Keep in mind though; Symphony seems to want to get out of there so we may only have enough time for one or two.
I hope it was worth the wait, once again thank you for your time and your readership.
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Reiso



Joined: 27 Oct 2004
Posts: 917
Location: Western North America

Posted: Sat Mar 13, 2010 1:59 am    Post subject:  

Great chapter, lots of cool stuff going on in this one. I especially liked the moment of our sketch artist doing some absent minded shading when he got nervous, despite being bereft of any inspiration mere moments before the phone call. Maybe we can make that a little tick or something, like stress inspires him to do greater art. Something. Anyway, I am a little confused about some things, but it's probably easier for me to ask you about those tomorrow. The grammar in the beginning is quite messy too, but I'm sure you know that already.

As for what question he should ask her, it's probably something that would ruin the fun, like "In no unclear terms, what exactly are you doing in my life at this point in time?", but yeah, that's probably a bad idea. Still uncomfy making suggestions this early on, but I'll have a few if no one else chimes in. It will be an interesting round of voting, I think.

Good stuff bro, keep it up.
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Emperor



Joined: 02 Nov 2004
Posts: 471
Location: San Diego, CA

Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 11:34 am    Post subject:  

Reiso wrote: The grammar in the beginning is quite messy too, but I'm sure you know that already.

As for what question he should ask her, it's probably something that would ruin the fun, like "In no unclear terms, what exactly are you doing in my life at this point in time?", but yeah, that's probably a bad idea.



Thanks for the input Reiso, actually all the bad grammar had escaped me, once again my mind fills in what it thinks should be there when I read it. Thanks for make me aware of the problems.

Whats wrong with that question, we can ask her anything we want. How and what she will answer, well - that part we have to see. But if we really wanted to we could ask her if she is wearing purple boxers with yellow ducks.
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Emperor



Joined: 02 Nov 2004
Posts: 471
Location: San Diego, CA

Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 11:39 am    Post subject:  

A big thank you to Spaceponi for helping me go through line for line on that, it was a huge help.

Thank you to Reiso for helping me find a solution to 'schism'.
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Spaceponi



Joined: 25 Dec 2009
Posts: 6

Posted: Sun Mar 14, 2010 11:45 pm    Post subject:  

Hello there! For some reason my favorites keep clearing out and I have to find the chapters all over again, annoying! Maybe the web people will read this and fix it, as well as being able to log on somewhere on the homepage. Anyhow, I like your new chapter and I have a favorite line "It was a cold night and the moon hung fat and jealous of the company he was keeping that night." I like the idea that the moon can have attributes. I do realize that is just what Leif thinks. I also like the intro of new characters, but i have to say i want to hear from Tetra again. He seems interesting and devious. If i were to ask symphony a question, it might be how she knew where to find me. But as a serious question I would ask her what she does for a living.
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Smee



Joined: 16 Oct 2004
Posts: 5215
Location: UK

Posted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 1:37 am    Post subject:  

Hey Emperor,

This was a chapter of extremes. There's some very good parts, some fascinating parts, some confusing parts, and some down right dodgy parts ;)

Your writing is enjoyable, rich and detailed, with a varied vocabulary to stimulate the reader. Combined with long chapters too, it promises to be a great read. But then the grammar trip-ups turn it from a great read, into something of a slog which is why it's been a few days for me to comment on it.

I enjoyed the conversation with Symphony on the beach. I thought that was well done. Some well constructed banter between them, good questions and answers.

The whole Wendy and her strange friend part got me a little lost, especially with the strange jargon but on the whole you did a pretty good job of explaining that.

However, the artist part had some 'sketchy' (gotta love a pun) grammar.

Quote: He felt the tightness around his [his what?] begin to strain on his temples as the overhead light continued to reflect back the vast emptiness of the white page. He was finding it hard difficult to work on anything but his most recent urban sketches.

Quote: and the must have gone back and forth between the three drawings thirty or more times.

There's still some awkward parts at the beginning too. This sentence I had to read three times before I was sure what it was trying to say...

Quote: A look came across his face that had anyone else had seen it would have interpreted it as the way a person weighs two great issues that could have equal benefit or equal consequences.

~

The Wendy part at the end, all I'm seeing is Leif spelt out in the letters of the case number. Am I missing something else of significance?

~

DP wise... "What do you see of worth in me?"

Happy Writing :)
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Reiso



Joined: 27 Oct 2004
Posts: 917
Location: Western North America

Posted: Wed Mar 17, 2010 9:14 am    Post subject:  

Really quick about the grammar--the first sentence used to be a question, which didn't make sense because the end of it is more of a statement. But just taking off the question mark wasn't a good fix because the first half of the sentence is a question, and it reads awkward with that construction no matter what. I would just make it two sentences.

Anyway, now that I've thought about it a while, I think I do have a very good question that makes sense for Leif to ask which is not informed by my own memories of the old version. That whole scene with Tetra was quite disturbing and annoying to him I would imagine, and while he may be softening towards this Symphony person slightly, their rapport is still one begun largely with anger. So I don't think he would balk at asking her just who the hell this Tetra person is anyway. After all, he knows where Leif lives. That would bother me.

Some food for thought, anyway.
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Emperor



Joined: 02 Nov 2004
Posts: 471
Location: San Diego, CA

Posted: Thu Mar 18, 2010 4:21 pm    Post subject:  

Smee wrote:

This was a chapter of extremes. There's some very good parts, some fascinating parts, some confusing parts, and some down right dodgy parts ;)

Your writing is enjoyable, rich and detailed, with a varied vocabulary to stimulate the reader. Combined with long chapters too, it promises to be a great read. But then the grammar trip-ups turn it from a great read, into something of a slog which is why it's been a few days for me to comment on it.

I enjoyed the conversation with Symphony on the beach. I thought that was well done. Some well constructed banter between them, good questions and answers.

The whole Wendy and her strange friend part got me a little lost, especially with the strange jargon but on the whole you did a pretty good job of explaining that.

However, the artist part had some 'sketchy' (gotta love a pun) grammar.


The Wendy part at the end, all I'm seeing is Leif spelt out in the letters of the case number. Am I missing something else of significance.

So I guess let's start with the easy stuff, no you didn't miss anything other than the fact that both his first and last name are in the file designation.

Thank you for your input and your critiques, both good and bad, they are welcome and can only help me along.

~

Now for the hard part...

I must apologize and am disheartened by the fact of the varied grammar mistakes make the reading hard to get through. Be assured it is not laziness on my part. Although it may seem like such, I spent a good amount of time reading through and catching stuff before I put it up. Not only that but I had someone else read it line by line after I posted it the first time (for which I am very grateful). I will strive better but I must also say it simply isn't from lack of effort on my part that this stuff gets by me. What can I say, I'm off my game these days.
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Crunchyfrog



Joined: 12 Dec 2006
Posts: 3998

Posted: Mon Mar 22, 2010 2:19 am    Post subject:  

Hmm. What would Leif ask Symphony? We don't really have a sense of how Leif might have reacted to Symphony's little lecture at the end of their encounter, but one thing that would have me asking a question was when she said:

Quote: “You lock yourselves away in your small groups of people who you value as important and everyone else doesn’t matter...

She is speaking as if she is not a part of the society he's living in. Almost as if she's not a human. Whether he picks this up consciously or subconsciously, mixed with the weirdness of her shadow and how she seems to have copied his answerphone message for her own, he must be wanting to ask her just who she is, or where she is from.

So yeah, it may sound like a dumb question, and Leif might well feel dumb for asking it, but I think it would be a simple 'Who are you?'

:)
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Smee



Joined: 16 Oct 2004
Posts: 5215
Location: UK

Posted: Tue Mar 23, 2010 9:04 am    Post subject:  

By the sounds of it, you're not so much off your game, you're just busy playing about 8 different games at the same time. Life sure is good at keeping us busy. I'm certainly no better at getting my chapters out in good time :P

It's obvious, not only from the length, but also some of the complexity of the story unfolding that you're definitely not shirking on the effort. That never entered my mind.

Keep at it - there's plenty of good stuff here worth building from :)

Happy Writing :)
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Emperor



Joined: 02 Nov 2004
Posts: 471
Location: San Diego, CA

Posted: Sat Mar 27, 2010 4:22 pm    Post subject:  

Anyone else out there need time to chime in please do so soonish, I'm thinking about putting up the poll soon.
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