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Kalanna Rai
Assassin for Hire
Joined: 21 Jan 2006
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Location: The Frozen North
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 Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 12:01 am Post subject: Feedback Needed... |
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I've got a story I've done a bit of work on and would like to adapt it to an SG. I've only managed to pull three chapters, and a prologue, out of my original notes so please, please, anyone out there care to tell me how one might go about making such an adaptation? Here's the first of the four installments.
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Prologue- Homecoming
It had been four years since war had first broken out between Humanity and a race known only as Rhyk. Four long years since the five eldest sons of the Taggart family had kissed their mother goodbye at this very train station. Now, as the shrill cry of the brakes brought another train to a halt, the five Taggarts left home gathered again. But while they had seen off five they would only be welcoming one. Sean Taggart, decorated numerous times, hero of the Battle of Angels, was steps away from home.
As the gangplank was lowered the first thing his family saw were boots. Heavy-combat boots, scarred with hard use under their coat of fresh polish. Tucked into their tops were the long legs of a high grade combat suit, the material still holding a lethal shimmer. Slowly their eyes traveled up over the trim torso to shoulders widened with growth he'd not possessed when they'd last seen him. When they reached his face they stopped, looks of horror and pity painting their features. The scars left by a Rhyk's slicing talons had stolen whatever chance at good looks he would have possessed. Three deep scars twisted one side of his face in a macabre fashion.
The deep furrows of ragged skin pulled the left corner of his mouth upward in a perpetual smirk, took off the top and lobe off his left ear neatly, and pulled a harsh, grim eye into an exaggerated almond shape.
With a deft motion of his head, he swept a wing of mahogany hair to cover the ruined half of his face as his voice quietly intoned, "What? No 'Welcome home'?"
As he strode down the gangplank, his family noted war had changed him in other, less physical, ways. The wary grace with which he moved, that of a man seeking danger. Alert even in moments of perfect peace.
For a moment he regarded them warily out of his visible grey eye. Then, as his youngest brother Ben enveloped him in a back-slapping hug, his expression warmed. His younger twin sisters quickly followed Ben's suit. His parents were last to touch him, Mama's tears ruining her careful make-up. Papa took one of Sean's hands in both his own, giving them a single brisk shake.
"Welcome back son."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He sat wedged in the front between his Mama and Papa, his three siblings sharing the back seats. All of them were talking a million miles an hour. None of them were talking about the War. All this chatting about the weather and who had done what in the past few years. It made him realize just how much he'd missed.
"Sean...Sean? Sweetheart?" Mama's anxious tone more than her words caused him to turn. His name had grown unfamiliar to him.
"Yes?"
"Did you hear a word I said dear?" The touch of her hand on his cheek was a natural gesture, done a thousand times before. Yet now he pulled away swiftly from her touch. As if it were acid on his old wounds.
The truck suddenly went silent, open and covert stares on the strange man who had formerly been the boy Sean Taggart. "I'm sorry Mama. I'll pay more attention now."
He didn't miss the worried glance his parents shared as the old truck turned off the main road and down the long rutted dirt track that led to his family's home. He chose to ignore it though, turning his gaze on the fields. It was Ben who asked the taboo question. "Does it still hurt?"
"No. They're about a year old now. And I've still got full vision in that eye and hearing in that ear so I'm grateful. It could have been worse."
Spurred on by youth and a teenage appetite for the gruesome, Ben leaned on the back of the seat next to his elder brother's good side. "How did it happen?"
"Ben! Hush!" Mama's agitated tone sent the younger brother back to his seat and brooked no further discussion on the topic. The rest of the way up the drive only the soft tunes on the radio kept an unhealthy silence from pressing on their ears. For his part, Sean was more than welcome for it. His eyes roved all over the vista the windshield offered him, waiting for that moment when the dark line on the horizon of the fields resolved into the thick stand of trees that blocked the Taggart home from view.
The trees were just as tall and thick as he remembered them, ancient lords who's gnarled limbs were viewed with pride. They were like jealous guards, hiding his view of home till the truck rounded the very last curve then giving way for a beautiful view of the house. Sprawling and massive, as befitted a family with eight children, the Taggart house was a pristine white against the dark greens of the trees. It was just as he remembered it, red-brown shingles covering the sloping roof with the little dip he'd lay on and stargaze on bright nights. The wrap around porch with it's spokes and environ field to keep the pests out and regulate the temperature and humidity for perfect conditions. Only one thing marred the vision, jarring painfully with past memories.
Four black flags waved from the porch entrance. Four black flags for his brothers. And he had no doubts a fifth had been sent, then reclaimed when he'd turned up alive. Scarred forever but alive.
The truck came to a stop, Papa waving them all out as he waited to drive it into the garage and park it. Mama stepped out, walking slowly while his siblings bolted past her. He quietly followed, pulling his carry-all from the bed of the truck and slinging it over his shoulder. He gave his Papa a glance, silently telling the man he could carry his own weight, before turning his steps toward the house. As the truck vanished from line of sight, Sean stopped and stared at the open doorway.
Alone in the warm sunlight, the familiar smells of safety and family greeting him, the right side of his mouth quirked up to match the left. "Welcome home Shakes."
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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dinranwen
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| Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 6:27 am Post subject: |
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| HMmmmm....I don't know, Rai. Your first chapters usually leave me a bit confused, although I know I will find out the mysteries hinted in them sooner or later one way or another. Yet, this one left me a little bit more confused then usual. I'm afraid I'm going to have more before I can pass a judgement on this...
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Kalanna Rai
Assassin for Hire
Joined: 21 Jan 2006
Topics: 173
Posts: 3102
Location: The Frozen North
Items
Legends
Fables
Strata-gems
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| Posted: Mon Mar 17, 2008 11:52 pm Post subject: |
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Well, here's this one. The other two need a little more work first.
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Chapter One- The Visitor
"Ben Taggart get your hands off me this instant." The words were spoken with faux anger by a teasing girl.
"Come on Bethany. It's not like I haven't seen it before." Ben said, pressing his advantage.
"What if somebody sees us?"
Ben laughed. "Shakes is the only one home and he won't mind.
Bethany shuddered, pushing herself even further away. "Ew, that brother of yours gives me the creeps Ben."
Ben sighed and opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Bethany was only one of many. There were plenty of folks around that had welcomed his brother home with open arms, hailing him as the conquering hero, until they'd gotten a good look at his face. Then came the open-mouthed stares, the horror and revulsion. It made Ben angry to see his brother treated like a criminal, shunned like a leper. He suddenly didn't see Bethany as quiet the charming girl she'd been moments before, his ardor cooling quickly. "Fine then. I'll take you home."
Bethany looked at him in a hurt manner, unable to see what she'd done wrong. "Ben...I was just teasing. If you want to..."
"No I don't think I do. I'm a Taggart. We've always been close, we'll always be close. If my girl can't like my whole family...she just can't be my girl." Ben watched Bethany open her mouth, then shut it quickly as a shadow fell across them.
Turning he could see Shakes illuminated by the open door of the barn, just leaning there. "Don't be so harsh on her Ben. Anyone with eyes can find something better to look at than this twisted puss of mine."
"But she's not being fair Shakes."
"Life rarely is little brother. Now I suggest apologizing to the lady nicely and taking her home if she insists on it. When you get back, you can help me with the wood for the fence. Or, if she consents to stay, I suggest moving out of the barn. Mama has a talent for spotting hay in your hair." The rueful tone in which these last words were spoken suggested to Ben that it was the voice of experience speaking.
He nodded as his older brother moved out of the doorway, vanishing as silently as he'd come, and returned his attention to Bethany. "I'm sorry about getting angry. It's just..."
"I wasn't saying he was a bad person Ben. But he's right about his face. It gave little Sally Jessop nightmares you know." Bethany bit back the rest of her words at the look on Ben's face, realizing she was doing more harm than good. "Maybe you'd better take me home after all."
"Maybe." Ben said with a sigh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When he returned home he found Shakes in the kitchen his rainbow of required pills spread out like some tiny line-up on the table. Ben sighed as he watched his brother, noting the way tremors raced across the top of the water in Shakes' glass. "You okay?"
Shakes swept all the pills up into his hand, slamming them down in one mouthful of water like a man with no future slammed down hard liquor. He drained the rest of the glass, throat working to make sure each and every one of those little capsules was clear of his throat. Finally, with a hoarse voice, he spoke. "No, but I'm safe again."
With a sigh, Ben pulled up a chair and turned it around to sit on it backwards. Chin on his crossed forearms, resting on the top of the high back, he watched his elder brother for a moment. "Safe?"
Shakes snorted, holding out one hand so that they both could watch the palsies that had bestowed upon him his nickname stop. "Safe. As in I'm not likely to put my hand through your head. Safe. From those memories they'd rather I didn't share and ruin their good image. Safe. From ever being myself again." The bitterness of the statement was unmistakable.
"Can't you just...skip one?" Even as he said it Ben knew that was a futile idea. The moment Shakes missed a pill, their phone would ring and some officer from the Army of Man would be demanding to know why. It had happened once before and the implied threats hadn't been pleasant to dwell on.
Pushing himself back from the table, Shakes absently rubbed the left side of his face. "Come on little brother. That fence won't mend itself."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dinner had formerly been a riot. The Taggarts had been a massive family prior to the War with six rowdy sons and two daughters made rough and tumble by all the horsing around their brother's put them through. Meals graced with laughter and enthusiasm that led to loss of manners and added mirth lived on in the memories of those that remained. The table had been cramped but nobody had complained...save when an errant elbow ended up on someone else's plate.
Now there was twice as much room and not nearly half as much mirth. Mama would gossip and prattle on about the current events, Cindy and Saidi would chatter about events at school, and Ben would neatly avoid questions about where he'd been all day and what he'd been doing while Papa merely made affirmative or negative noises in response to direct questions. The only person at the table from whom no conversation at all was expected was Shakes.
Which is why now, as Mama was reproachfully telling Ben how Masy Rider's son Tommy was 'making something of himself', the sound of Shakes voice came as something of a shock. "Let him be Mama. He's young enough that a few mistakes aren't going to hurt him."
Mama sniffed. "A few mistakes now might cost him his whole future. I mean sweetheart, he's reached eighteen. It's time for him to start acting his age..."
Her voice trailed off as the sound of rattling silverware filled the dining room with an almost deafening beat. Shakes quickly dropped the offending implement, pulling his tremoring hands back as though he'd held them to hot coals. "May I be excused?" He asked as he shoved his chair back, standing without waiting for an answer. The sound of his foot falls on the stairs were heard moments later as dinner resumed on a low note.
The silence had just grown to the unbearable point when a knock echoed on the front door. Four heads turned sharply to face the noise, Mama gesturing for Saidi to go see who it was. The slim sixteen year old politely stood, laying her napkin next to her plate, as she rushed into the next room. Her muffled voice gave no warning of who their visitor was so when she returned with a uniformed Officer, the Taggarts had their second shock of the evening. "Mama, Papa...this is Captain Wilder. He's looking for Sean."
Ben looked at the man in his too crisp grey uniform and shivered. His back was as stiff as an iron bar, his face like a chiseled stone mask. His wheat colored hair was buzzed so flat you had to squint to tell he had it at all and his eyes were as cold as winter ice. His pristine white cap was tucked under one arm and rows of small squares that represented his meals gleamed from his chest. All and all, Ben was profoundly glad Shakes had always refused to wear his dress uniform for them. He claimed to have burned it. Ben could see why.
"Mr. Taggart, Mrs. Taggart. I'm sorry to disturb you folks at dinner but it is of the utmost importance that I speak privately with your son."
Slowly, wiping his face with his napkin, Papa stood and stared at the man. "Buster, I don't know why you've come out here but I tell you this. I want to see some papers before I'll let you anywhere near my boy."
With a sigh, Captain Wilder reached inside his uniform and pulled out some neatly folded papers which he handed to Papa. Ben watched his father's face carefully, realizing it was bad indeed from the way Papa's face fell halfway through reading. He thrust them back at the man as if they were a poisonous snake. Captain Wilder took them with a brisk nod. "Now, where is your son Mr. Taggart?"
"He's upstairs, probably taking his pills."
The man consulted his watch. "Not for another thirty-two minutes, sixteen seconds he's not. Plenty of time. Will someone please show me the way or summon him?"
"Ben." Mama's voice was a hollow whisper. "Will you show the man to Sean's room please?"
"Yes Mama."
_________________
"It's not just about living forever...the trick is living with yourself forever..."
"Music makes you braver."
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