Posted: Wed Jul 10, 2019 8:34 am Post subject: Welcome to Purgatory - Ch. 8: The Enemy of My Enemy's Enemy
Welcome to Purgatory Chasing revenge beyond death, Martin pursues his target into Purgatory, home to souls in limbo awaiting Judgement.
It glows like a metaphysical Las Vegas with its own neon lights, smoky shadows, and cutthroat rules.
Here, Time is currency and the stakes couldn’t be higher as he refuses to let anything stop him.
*Notice: This chapter may include violence and vulgarity
Chapter 1: Destination Unknown
We begin on a private jet owned by Gabriel Eldon, a billionaire who tried and failed to buy his life back from a terminal disease. Only a thousand feet off the ground and streaking past near the speed of sound, it has exactly 3 passengers: Mr. Eldon himself, a stowaway with murderous intentions, and an entity known variously as Death.
Rushing turbulence ~ Light-headed hyperreality ~ Heavy breathing. Martin looked through the cockpit over the bald head of his sickly target and through the windshield looking out at the mountain that was growing in view. He finally cornered the man who killed his brother and he was ready for revenge up until this moment. Mr. Eldon had a different fate in mind.
The sickly pilot, with dark sunken eyes, looked away from the imminent doom and spoke, “I’m glad you’re here, Martin. I didn’t want to die alone.” With no time left for words or actions, they crashed with the force of a hurricane.
Panic ~ Disorientation ~ Soul stripping fear. Martin’s mind grasped for any anchor. Every thought and memory flew around him in a frenzy and they were viciously ripped away. Vulnerability beyond comprehension ~ Absolute desperation ~ Screaming without voice.
Martin lost all sense of self and being, he existed as nothing but primal impulses, everything that he was, held together by loose threads, now cast like a net into an acidic ocean. The burns subsided when nothing remained but an abstract intelligence struggling to understand anything. It remembered something from the time before birth, from gaps between dreams, from those little moments in life when nothing seemed real. Then it understood one thing at least… it was dead. Also, it wasn’t alone.
Muffled whispers ~ Gray shadows ~ Timelessness. The other entity came and went as what was Martin Douglas Wymont put itself back together piece by piece. Painstaking spiritual rehabilitation that gained momentum as his awareness improved.
Sickly Pilot ~ Brother ~ Angel ~ Skeleton in a Black Cloak. The accompanying entity was no longer a shadow, but its form kept changing.
The form changing figure said, “Will you make up your mind? This is really annoying.”
Martin found his voice somewhere as he uttered, “What are you?” The form changing had stopped, he remained the classic skeletal representation of Death.
He said, “I’m a psychopomp.” The only part that stood out to Martin was ‘psycho’. The figure went on, “You might have noticed you don’t have a body anymore. I’m here to guide you.”
“Where will you take me?”
“To be judged. To be honest, it doesn’t look like you’ll be heading to the short line either. Your last moments were filled with hate. The only reason you didn’t commit murder is you didn’t get the chance.”
Martin interrupted, “Where is he?!”
“Oh, you’re remembering really good now! That’s great! Maybe you got what it takes to be a ghost. Should I leave you here for a while? Halloween is just around the corner and…”
“I asked you a question.”
“I already took him. He had a big head start on you, after all. He was ready to die.”
“Where?”
“Purgatory…. Shall I take you?”
“Do it.”
“That was easier than expected,” Death said, his teeth and jaws warping into a grin as he reached for Martin with his bony hand. An orb of light became a ray that illuminated Martin’s scattered spiritual body, restoring it to the shape it was in on the morning of the day he died. He felt violated, like getting a sponge bath against his will, but after it was done he felt clear minded and in control. Then Death ripped the rug out from under him again as he carried him off.
Blurring speed ~ inside-out ~ upside down. Slower than a blink and faster than a long sigh, they arrived before the outskirts of a city larger than anything on Earth, a large Neon sign read:
Death said, “Wait here,” and took to the sky like a kite in the wind. Martin laid on the spongy gray ground and took account of himself, making sure all of his pieces were there and in the right places (yes, even down there). Figures in white or black streamed across the gray sky, carrying people like luggage behind them. Some of the people were put down gently, a few were dropped like screaming bombs that splattered on the ground. Many others continued on, farther and farther until they were too small to see. Finally Martin was able to stand up.
The city before him was stratified, from the smoky lower layer of cramped urban labyrinths and then a large glowing band in the middle of garishly sensational lights of every shape and color, finally crowned with verdant garden balconies and majestic domes of the upper level. Pearl towers speared a small patch of blue sky, so tall it seemed impossible. A hundred delights, a thousand depravities, and a million torments stacked on top of each other in the kind of hierarchy Martin understood very well.
But the only thing that was important, somewhere in that enormous place was the man who killed his brother. That man was Gabriel Eldon; a man who considered himself above retribution, paying his way through every accusation, tossing lives away like tissues he blew his nose on. Most were satisfied that cancer was killing him. Not Martin. Martin had already put everything on the line to prove the man wasn’t untouchable, racing death itself. He lost that race, but now there was something deeply satisfying knowing the chase was not over.
Martin asked himself how long he should wait for Death to return… should he wait at all? He frowned as he considered what judgement awaited him. The terrible things he did for the people he cared about wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. God knows… does he? Well, Martin knows how others would see it. He wasn’t one to have regrets. He wasn’t going to apologize, even now. So what kind of God would let a guy like him into Heaven?
Martin chuckled thinking about how this could all be true. Maybe Saint Peter waited for him with a shiny halo over his head and a big list of Martin’s sins in his hands. Maybe a red devil sharpened the tips of his pitchfork while he waited. Exactly how silly was this all going to get? Martin didn’t like playing by other people’s rules anyway. This might be his chance, right now, to just slip away. Eldon was here somewhere, and somehow there must be a way to make him pay, if for nothing but the memory of his brother… Brian was the last person who deserved to die, especially the way he did. Heaven probably rolled out a red carpet for him when he showed up at the gates. Martin wasn’t ready to think about the faintest possibility he would ever see his brother again. The pain was too deep.
Of course, there could be some serious consequences for defying Death. Pissing off a psycho-whatever probably wasn’t the best way to start your afterlife. Could he expect to escape? What the hell did Death intend to do with him anyway?
DP: Does Martin make a break for the city or wait for Death?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Fri Jul 12, 2019 10:28 am; edited 6 times in total
Make a break for it! What is the psycho going to do, kill him? 😂😂😂
A little feedback though, the first part of the chapter was a little hard to follow for me, but I'm guessing the disorientation and the confusion was intended, given what was actually happening? Either way, I can see the foundations of a really fun sg here! Nice _________________
A little feedback though, the first part of the chapter was a little hard to follow for me, but I'm guessing the disorientation and the confusion was intended, given what was actually happening?
Yes, it's intended to be a bit disorienting and confusing, like someone waking up after an accident, but I don't want to go overboard. I'd be tempted to have a Rod Serling-like narrator show up and lay down the foundation in his classic style, like "What you see before you is a private jet owned by one Gabriel Eldon, a billionaire who tried and failed to buy his life back from a terminal disease. Only a thousand feet off the ground and streaking past near the speed of sound, it has exactly 3 passengers: Mr. Eldon himself, a stowaway with murderous intentions, and an entity known variously as Death".
... A little context would be nice, yeah? I'll add it in. Thanks for the feedback!
Last edited by Lebrenth on Wed Jul 17, 2019 10:15 pm; edited 1 time in total
I particularly like the way this line was written, very visceral and simple
Quote:
He felt violated, like getting a sponge bath against his will
I enjoyed the imagery in this next line, it conveyed well the state and the general sense of how things are now
Quote:
Figures in white or black streamed across the gray sky, carrying people like luggage behind them
I'm with Vishal, let's get out of here. But for the sake of suggesting another option, maybe he could try to hitch a ride if one comes close enough and he could drop down on it. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
So not my usual style of story, I'll be honest about that, but it still managed to draw me in. There's a bit of a detachment from Martin, like he's the narrator at times but not quite, but I actually liked that. It would be neat if, as the story progressed, he became a clearer and more reliable narrator, showing character development not just through his actions, but through how he speaks of them. Right now he's being vague (to build suspense for us, the audience) but in-universe it reads as a mixture of not being willing to think of those things in detail, even just to himself. Or perhaps bits of him still haven't come back to himself.
For the DP, for the sake of being completely left field, I say Martin waits. Maybe he can get more information off of Death, considering how amused they seemed at his agreement to go to purgatory. It has me wondering if Martin is even supposed to be here, if maybe death is TRYING to goad Martin into running off. _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Posted: Sat Jul 13, 2019 7:14 pm Post subject: Poll is open
The Poll is open! Thank you all for your feedback and suggestions. I'll work hard to bring you all an interesting story. This poll will run until Thursday morning, with a chapter following the same day.
I'm dying to see where the votes land! Let's see them! Also, if you haven't already, please consider adding the SG to your favorites with the link at the top... or by clicking here to Add to Favorites. Thanks!
Last edited by Lebrenth on Wed Jul 17, 2019 10:14 pm; edited 1 time in total
Posted: Wed Jul 17, 2019 10:14 pm Post subject: Chapter 1 DP result
DP Results:
To Wait or Not To Wait?
Don't wait, run into Purgatory. 25% [ 1 ]
Don't wait, try to hitch a ride on a different psychopomp into Purgatory. 50% [ 2 ]
Wait. 25% [ 1 ]
Total Votes : 4
Who Voted: Chinaren, Emperor, Novelest_Ninjagirl, Vishal Muralidharan
Posted: Thu Jul 18, 2019 1:05 am Post subject: Chapter 2: Smoky Streets
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, and sexual themes.
Chapter 2: Lost in the Smoke
Martin was done waiting and started looking for a ride into the city. The wraiths and angels flew all around him, he just want to get one of them to take him in. Most of them ignored him as he yelled to get their attention but there was one that was distracted after dropping off their passenger. He approached it from behind and wasn’t prepared when it turned to face him.
Dripping flesh ~ moldy bones ~ hooked claws and fangs. The horrific vision made him regret calling out. It pounced him and pinned him, then demanded,
“What? What do you want, fleshbag!?” Its breath was foul and poisonous drool dripped on Martin’s face.
“Chill out! I just want a ride into the city!” He struggled to free himself but its grip yielded nothing. It considered for a moment before letting him up, then it looked at its bony clawed hand.
“I will… if you do something for me.”
“Like what?” Martin said with a grimace.
“Make me beautiful.”
“Excuse me?”
“Give me another form. Use your mind, if you can, and imagine what you see as beauty.”
“Oooookay….” Martin stood back. He hesitated but he had to close his eyes to clear his head. His ideal woman (it had to be a woman, right?) appeared in his imagination. An ebony queen, with smooth skin, full lips, a tempting hourglass figure… all of that. When he opened his eyes, the nightmare was gone and his vision was realized, with glossy raven wings that had a stripe of iridescence. His eyes widened. “Daayum!” he said to himself. She smiled.
“Much better,” she said, her voice like silk. She walked up to him and he did not withdraw as she took hold of him. She lifted him off his feet like a professional wrestler doing a suplex and they flew swiftly toward the city. Soon after she began to talk to him, he looked back admiringly.
She asked, “You gotta name?”
“Martin.”
“Listen Martin, anyone finds out I helped you, I’ll fuck you up, you understand? You just got here, you don’t know the shit we can do to you.”
“No problem.”
“There better not be, Martin.”
“So what’s your name, baby?”
“Baby, huh? Yeah, ok. You can call me Ophelia.”
“I’ll call you whatever you want.”
“You’re a real sucker for a pretty face, aren’t you?” Ophelia said with a smirk.
“Always have been, always will be,” Martin replied. The idea that the monster he saw before and this loveliness was the same entity was not believable. “So where are we going?”
“You’re not going to like it, but I have to put you someplace lowkey.”
“Suits me.”
They streaked past a few other psychopomps and over the souls marching with uncertainty to the bright lights. They’re accosted by marketers and advertisers for strange services. Martin gets a glimpse of what they’re offering: odd trinkets, tours of ‘Second Heaven’, fortune tellers divining whether you’re headed to Hell, ‘pleasures beyond your wildest fantasies’, sending messages to the dead or living…. Some of them seemed desperate, begging the passersby as though for their lives. Even just in passing, Martin saw several of them swept up by other psychopomps A panic started and they trampled each other.
Martin asks, “What the hell is going on down there?”
“Hell is exactly what’s going down for most of them. They don’t want to go to Judgement. Like you.”
“I have business to take care of first.”
“Really?” she asks, now diving into the smoky lower level of the city. “Tell me about it.” Now they swooped around corners and through tight corridors. Martin could barely catch his breath from fear, but she was totally at ease. She slowed to let him speak.
“The motherfucker killed my brother,” he was finally able to say. “I have to make him pay for it.”
“You expect to find him here?”
“Yeah, he’s here. It’s his style to avoid the consequences of his actions. If there’s a way to cheat the devil, he’ll do it.”
“Watch how you talk about devils around here. You might meet some. Matter of fact, they like to prowl around down here, looking for something to eat. They’ll beat on you first, till you’re nice and tender. You sure you don’t want me to take you back to the outskirts?”
“I can handle myself.”
“I bet you can,” she said, then she descended again. “This oughta work.” They landed in an intersection amidst a large demolished fountain. Snakes made of smoke slithered away from the broken statues at their approach. The smoke in the air was thick enough they could only see a handful of yards away. Martin was relieved to be back on his feet, though he was enjoying her touch. Looking at her again, she was an eye-full. “Take it in, baby, you’re not gonna see me ever again,” she said.
“In my dreams, I will. Anyway, where are you going? Aren’t you going to keep me company for a little bit?”
“I got a little time.”
“Maybe we can get a little more comfortable?”
“You think you can stay focused long enough?”
“I can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“You’re not going to suddenly think of your mother or something in the middle of this, are you?”
And with that, the vision melted into that very suggestion. His mother stood before him, just for a moment before he closed his eyes again and tried to bring back the woman he desired, but it wouldn’t last. He couldn’t unsee it.
“God dammit!” he yelled.
“Listen: I am Death. You don’t want to fuck with me.” It’s just the sort of thing his mother would say. Martin folded his arms and sighed.
“So now what?” he said.
“Now I leave, but I’m gonna give you some advice. You haven’t been given your Time yet, so you’re something special, like an idiot with a gun. Everything here runs on Time. You know how they say Time is Money? Well here that's taken very literally. People start rich here and everyone else preys on them like wolves, taking all the Time they can get. Next thing you know, you’re whoring yourself out just to buy yourself another week. But your Time doesn’t start till your psychopomp gives it to you. It’s around 10 years right now and it will probably be 10 years tomorrow and next week and next month. The longer you stay away, the later your time starts. But you’re going to have a hard time doing anything without Time to spend. You just remember I didn’t do nothing for you when you decide you want your Time or if you get caught.”
“So you sound like you know how to make someone suffer. How about some tips on that?”
“You want your revenge, right? Well, for starters, you might be dead, but you have a spiritual body and it feels pain and injury like your old body did. You just want to make him hurt? You can make that happen pretty easy. You could even kill him, in a way. He’ll put himself back together eventually, so it’s more like a painful inconvenience than a final solution. Something tells me that won’t be enough for you either. You want to make him pay? Get him to use up his Time and face Judgement, assuming he deserves to go to Hell.”
“You have no fucking idea.”
“OK, then. There are also those who dabble in the dark arts, including fugitive demons and greater devils, but also people like you who just been around long enough to learn some things. They’re dangerous. The price you pay might be greater than you have the imagination to comprehend, as nice a job as your imagination did on me. Don’t make a deal hot-headed.
“But you know…” she continued as she started to fly again. “If you really want to take my advice, you’ll just put it all behind you. This kind of shit is like seawater: the more you drink, the thirstier you get. I don’t know you, Martin, but maybe you still have a chance to get into Heaven. Must be someone up there worth seeing again, if nothing else.”
“Yeah, thanks for the advice, ‘Mom’” Martin said.
“Don’t make me beat your ass,” she said with a smile. And then she was gone.
Martin looked around. No one and nothing but smoke and broken statue faces. It was deathly quiet too.
“Hey!” he screamed out. “How do I get out of this place?” But no response.
Panic inducing isolation ~ Depressive worthlessness ~ Powerless desolation. He began searching in darkness. Others he met were spiritual lepers, unintelligible messes desperate for help Martin couldn’t give them. He ran away from them. The bombed out buildings had no indications of civilization. The elevators had no power, the doors were blocked, and the stairs were collapsed.
“Fucking bitch,” Martin said to himself. Trying once again to open a door marked ‘STAIRS’ and finding it locked. Martin threw his shoulder into the door until it splintered and broke away. The damn stairs went down into absolute black. “Shit.”
After hours of frustration, he found fire escape stairs on the outside of a building. He excitedly climbed up 8 flights of stairs to reach the roof, just peeking out of the smoke. “Thank god,” he said aloud, even though he could climb no more, at least there was light here… lots of it! A casino where even the back entrance had to be lit up like the Fourth of July. A floating taxi waited nearby, a limousine dropped off a few people and a doorman held the door for them.
“Hey! Taxi!” Martin called out. He had no ‘Time’, but he was not going back down in the smoke.
A driver with his head hanging out the window as he slept woke up with a start. He located Martin and pulled up. Martin eagerly opened the door and took a seat.
“Where to?” the driver said, looking in the mirror. Then turned suddenly to look at Martin directly, fear in his eyes. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Nothing, sir, it’s just, look, I don’t want any trouble!”
“Fine, just take me somewhere and there won’t be any trouble.”
Everything here runs on Time. You know how they say Time is Money?
This has me very interested, I love the concept. Any story like this always perks me up a little, probably because of one of my all time fav books has me biased.
Quote:
This kind of shit is like seawater: the more you drink, the thirstier you get.
This line has a lot of punch to it and emphasizes the danger without spelling it out.
Anyhooo.... where to go?
Seeing how "thirsty" he is for revenge and seeing how this place is greased by Time, maybe his first stop should be to look for somewhere where he can do some odd jobs. Because we all know revenge won't be cheap _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Before he can go about his revenge, he'll need to know more about where he actually is and how this city works. Don't suppose there's some kind of helpful information place?
Or he could just grill the driver while they travel somewhere else I guess.
Just have the driver drive around for a while. It seems like the driver is afraid of him so that will build his fear and not give away that we don't know anything about what we're doing.
Anyhoo, first place you need, from long experience of this kind of thing, is a place to use as a base, even if, initially, it's only a temporary one, you can look for something more permanent if and when.
Second priority, as already mentioned, is income. As this chap needs big and fast, we're looking at illegal (if there is such a thing here) or, more likely, dangerous stuff. There's bound to be some dodgy deal that will pay big, if he survives, or isn't cut to pieces by a mob boss and his parts kept in separate jars, what with the whole no-(re)-death thing going on.
Whilst this had some good lines in it, it felt a little rushed to me Lebs. Still, keep moving forward! _________________ Neil Hartley Books. My Amazon page.
Wow, the concept is sure intriguing. Really like it so far.
As for where to go, I'd say we ask the driver to give a tour around the place. He's obviously scared, and we can use this to learn as much about the place as we can.
There's a question I have though.The Time he earns is added to what he already has, but he doesn't have his Time yet. It's technically not "zero" Time though, right? It's more like infinite Time till it's assigned to him. That's what I understood.
But what if he starts earning Time before it's assigned to him? if he earns 5 minutes, does it mean his time ends in 5 minutes or is 5 minutes added to how much ever Time he's supposed to have. Or does it just not matter because he hasn't been assigned Time yet, so he can't earn any? We need to find this out, because we can exploit the heck out of it if it's in our favor.
Overall well written chapter. It did seem a little rushed, but it was enjoyable nonetheless. Well done _________________
Posted: Mon Jul 22, 2019 10:59 pm Post subject: Pacing
Right! So I combined options a bit so we don't spread votes around too much. More or less, we're either touring the place and trying to get more info about it, or we're looking for opportunities to make more Time, either innocently or any way possible. I'll keep in mind we want to ask more of the taxi driver, getting info from him and possibly extra help in the way of Time. Also we're looking for a base of operations, which will be influenced by what direction we're going next. I think Vishal in particular will be interested to see the elaboration of a few things in the next chapter which will happen with any of the three options.
I love how you point out particular lines, Emperor! I have really missed crafting written stories and I'm particularly pleased to see interpretations. I hope you'll find more to point out in future chapters.
It occurs to me today that Chinny has read more of my writing than another person on the planet. He's been here in IF since before I started and followed several of my stories, possibly all of them, to the end. So I expect he can tell when I'm rushing through a chapter a little more than usual.
You're right. I'm still deciding what to do with the feedback though, because I feel like good meaningful DP's are still on the other side of swarms of exposition. I'm not sure what everyone's tolerance for long chapters are yet... I'm inclined to get to a DP between 1000 and 2000 words. Chapter 1 was 1252 words and Chapter 2 was 1750 words. Would anyone prefer longer chapters? Or perhaps the feedback is about the quality of the writing, that within the same length it could have been better?
Keep in mind I'm always interested in improvement but I'm also kind of sensitive to criticism Just sugar coat it a little, thanks!
I think Vishal in particular will be interested to see the elaboration of a few things in the next chapter which will happen with any of the three options.
Yep! Definitely excited for the next chapter
Quote:
Keep in mind I'm always interested in improvement but I'm also kind of sensitive to criticism Smile Just sugar coat it a little, thanks!
I apologise if I offended in anyway To answer the question that you'd asked, I personally don't think the quality of writing is the issue. I like what's happening, I think there are really clever lines (like the ones Emperor pointed out), and I'm invested throughout the chapter, and I want to see what happens next. There really isn't any "criticism" in the strictest sense of the word. The only reason I say that it's rushed is I felt like a lot of concepts were introduced, and I personally don't fully understand all of them. I have a clearer image of the place we're in. But there are some things I'm confused about. I only have a vague idea of the concept of Time, and a vague idea of the character and his motivation. I know Gabriel killed his brother, but that's about all I know. I don't know who Martin is as a person, and I know almost nothing about the brother. This backstory seems central to the plot, so I'd like more information on that. So my opinion is that I'd prefer longer chapters, at least until some of these things are explained.
I'm highly aware that ALL of this could be very intentional, and it's possible that this is what you wanted to hold these back to prevent an information dump, or even for a plot reason. In which case I'm more than willing to wait till the information flows naturally. I'm enjoying this story a lot, and since you've already said that there will be more elaboration of some of these in the next chapter, I'm even more excited for it _________________
Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2019 6:33 am Post subject: Brass tact
Vishal Muralidharan wrote:
I apologise if I offended in anyway
Oh no! Definitely not, by any means. Everyone has been very civil, no need to change, I just add that little note because welcoming criticism can embolden people to drop their tact and set their unfiltered opinions free. I'm not going to cry or anything, but I may end up losing sleep thinking about it because I obsess over my creative projects, a lot! In fact Chapter 2 was written in the middle of the night because I was thinking about it too much to sleep. Nothing anyone can do to avoid it, just as long as we're still friends it will be fine.
If this was not a storygame that exists in the present, I would re-write the chapter, probably going into more detail about the panic at the outskirts, explore some of Martin's regrets in the smoke, and hint at some enigma stalking him in the dark. But we're already here with Chapter 3 eager to be written. If I ever decide to try to publish it, I'll revisit it then. It will be easier to emphasize the right themes when they're done being guided by the choices of the players.
I really appreciate your involvement, Vishal! To stay on schedule I'm going to have to close the poll tomorrow morning so yours may be the only vote. Touring the place is a sensible choice, though, seeing what there is to see before making other decisions, so I doubt anyone will be put out that much if their favorite option is deferred.
Last edited by Lebrenth on Thu Jul 25, 2019 5:18 am; edited 1 time in total
I arrived just in time to vote! and inadvertently made a tie with said vote. My bad!
I'm definitely with Vishal though, intrigued by the concept of how time is money actually works. It was nice having a moment of levity with the entity turning into his mother, though I found myself wondering what his mother actually looked like, since the 'attractive' woman was so thoroughly described and she wasn't.
Speaking of curious about appearances, I find myself wondering what Martin looks like that got such a reaction. It's too late for the poll suggestions and doesn't apply to the DP, but if he can find a way to look in that rear view mirror, might be to his benefit.
_________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Posted: Wed Jul 24, 2019 5:35 pm Post subject: What would Freud say?
OK, I can add in a little discussion about his own appearance in the next chapter. I've been avoiding it since I'm happy to let people imagine him however they like, but if it helps you visualize the scenes, I can at least give you a few details.
I don't expect I'll revisit how the mother looks in the story, but just to satisfy your curiosity, she looked actually pretty similar. A few more blemishes and care-worn wrinkles, less makeup, and her breasts weren't as perky... but he was a little astonished and creeped out at how close a match it was... apparently he's attracted to women that look like his mom.
Last edited by Lebrenth on Thu Jul 25, 2019 5:19 am; edited 1 time in total
Poll results: Where does he tell the taxi to go?
* Show me around this city. [ 2 ]
* I need to get some time, don't care how, take me where I can make a lot of it. [ 0 ]
* I need a job. Take me where I can find one. [ 1 ]
Total Votes : 3
Who Voted: Novelest_Ninjagirl, ten11, Vishal Muralidharan
But what if he starts earning Time before it's assigned to him? if he earns 5 minutes, does it mean his time ends in 5 minutes
All I can say to that is YIKES! If it were me I would implement something like this if he isn't given his own time. It would put a lot of pressure on the character.
Lebrenth wrote:
I just add that little note because welcoming criticism can embolden people to drop their tact and set their unfiltered opinions free. I'm not going to cry or anything, but I may end up losing sleep thinking about it because I obsess over my creative projects, a lot!
Your not alone in this at all. I know for myself I am very similar.
I know the poll is closed but should it matter at all I would vote for number 1. Lets get to know what we can _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes. This chapter in particular is going to be very graphic.
Chapter 3: Unregistered Soul
“Show me around,” Martin said, “Show me what this city’s got.”
The taxi driver was eager to please, saying “Yeah, sure! First time or has it been a while?” Martin had no response as he wasn’t sure if he should tip his hand. “We’ll just drive around a bit. You can hop out any time you like, just say the word.”
Why was this guy so nervous, Martin asked himself. There was even plexiglass between them. He looked down at himself, checked his face in the rear view mirror. He looked normal. Just some handsome late twenty-something black guy. He was clean-cut and well dressed, thanks to some big changes he had to make in his life. Would his younger self even recognize him? Maybe he was a little soiled from the grime and smoke of the lower streets; he probably smelled like smoke though he couldn’t tell. Is that so much?
As they glided off, Martin looked back, glad to get away. He gasped when he saw something breach the smoke. A centipede the size of a train with 5 foot long mandibles. Martin could see down its throat. Writhing bloody hands ~ fiery furnace ~ bottomless red abyss.
The driver looked back at Martin skeptically, but averted his eyes when Martin looked back. He coughed and said, “So over here is the Promenade. Just a big platform connecting the casinos. A lot of entertainment you can take in for free… I’ll drive low.”
The Promenade held thousands of people, the complexity was overwhelming. Here and there, Martin could focus on something. Go-go cages ~ slave auctions ~ buffets with animals eaten alive. The lights were intense and hot, the bodies around them glistening in varying amounts of sweaty nakedness. A pinned pit fighter’s ear ripped off by teeth ~ charred runners racing through fire ~ a merciless eating competition where a force-fed competitor’s belly finally split open. Everywhere, Time being gambled, stakes as low as an hour and as high as a decade. Psychopomps loomed over individuals and waited for results. If they won, Death moved on. Otherwise, the loser was yanked away screaming, leaving cheering crowds in their place.
“A lot more people getting carried off than usual lately. Heard they’re calling it a ‘Shift’. I lost 3 months out of nowhere. I don’t suppose you’d know anything about that?” the driver asked. Martin maintained his silence. Randomly, people started targeting the taxi, throwing bottles or furniture or body parts or whatever they had on them.
The driver grumbled, “I hate it when they do that. Let’s pull up, unless you want off.”
“Keep going,” Martin said. “If there is some place less fucked up, let’s go there. This is too much.”
The driver quipped, “It’s not ‘If’, it’s ‘Where’. This city has everything. You probably already see this kind of shit all the time, right?” He looked for an answer again. He was digging.
“Let’s just go,” Martin replied.
“Fine with me,” he said and he continued down the Promenade a little higher and faster. The crowds thinned a little but there was still so much to take in. A humanoid dog stepped out of a ‘Body Tailor’ shop, followed by something that was half a woman with green skin and the other half a giant spider. Other body tailors lined the Promenade but usually brought in the ugly and produced supermodels. Then there were some customers that went in decently attractive and came out with lips or breasts or whatever so exaggerated you’d rather make-out with spider lady.
With still so much more to see, he noticed the drug lounges filled with colorful iridescent smoke. Those that partook had bizarre reactions. Butterflies flying from mouths ~ convulsing spikes shooting out of every inch of their bodies ~ flesh turning to moldable putty. Horrific as it seemed to an outsider, they laughed raucously like they were having a really good time.
The driver interrupted his engrossed focus, “Some people pay to take a look at Hell, but if you ask me you can find it right here on the Promenade. But don’t worry, we’re headed to the safer side of town. This is where I take the nerds.”
The Promenade continued, with the light getting bluer and kinder. The screens advertising services here offered experiences like piloting a starship or fighting dragons. ‘Lessons from a real ninja!’ ~ ‘Spellcasting here!’ ~ ‘Avast ye! Pirates off the starboard bow!’
Body tailors were busy here too. Many, many popular characters walked about, 100% authentic-looking, but Martin could spot plenty of duplicates. Here people could also meet ‘certified’ celebrities that still lived in Purgatory. Some of them had long lines of people eager to meet them, one fan cheerfully donated the last of his time for one hug. Other famous people waited miserably on the sidelines. They were famous so long ago now that most of the fresh blood didn’t even know their names.
A disturbance ahead caught everyone’s attention. People fighting over something, hard to say what, but it didn’t last long. A large bipedal robot that Martin had thought was just a model came to life and shredded them both with loud twin machine guns. Reduced to a clear goo, they seeped through the boards of the Promenade, presumably dripping into the smoke layer. The robot returned to its neutral position and everyone slowly and sheepishly carried on.
Martin eventually spoke up, “OK, what else you got?”
The driver sighed, adjusted a rod on his steering column and they lifted straight up. They passed by other platforms and looked in through windows at many sights. A laser battle gleefully reducing people to goo ~ a fancy masquerade ~ a concert where the music transformed everything around them to a fairy forest.
Higher and higher, until the air became light and sweet like nitrous oxide. Clouds swirled playfully in a bright blue sky. It was no longer crowded with structures, whatever reached this level looked absolutely intentional, a masterstroke of some architectural genius. Gardens and fountains and gleaming white buildings grew out from tall magnificent towers, like branches of a tree. The light diffused off every surface like a fresh spring morning. Angels gliding on cool breezes ~ silver mists glimmering like starlight ~ flowers large enough to sleep in.
Martin had to ask, “We’re still in Purgatory, right?”
“Yeah. Don’t get too comfy, we’ll be chased off pretty soon. I take a few minutes here and there to visit this place when I need a break, but a day is a year around here….” he said wistfully. “But that’s just a figure of speech. It’s more like 3 years.”
A pair of angels in gold armor approached, but the driver didn’t wait before descending precipitously. Martin clenched the door handle hard as his guts floated up during the sharp drop. They didn’t stop until they were back to the Promenade, startling a few people who thought they were about to crash. Martin breathed hard.
The driver said, “Listen, we could spend years looking around at stuff. I can take you where you like, maybe you want to go where the devils get together? Or angels? Maybe you want someplace in the smoke that ain’t too smoky? Whatever, but I really need to get back to finding fares. I can see you don’t have any Time, and I’m not going to ask any questions, but I need you to just tell me where you want to go.”
“Yeah, about that,” Martin says. “Do you think you could spare me some time to help me get started?”
“What, you think I’m ‘Death’? I can’t give you Time. You don’t even have a place in line. Anyway, I don’t have any to spare. What is with you, anyway? You don’t even know how Time works.”
“Look, I’ve been through hell, so cut me some slack. I’m still looking. Take me somewhere.”
The driver paused for a long moment. Then he continued down the Promenade, but he kept looking back with more stern looks. Abruptly, all of the screens around them blacked out for a moment. The taxi stopped as did everyone that had never seen them black out before. The image that came up next had a picture of Martin and this caption:
Unregistered Soul:
Martin Douglas Wymont
Bounty for capture:
16 Months
“Jesus,” the driver said, “here I thought you were a devil or something.” Then the doors locked. The driver smiled wickedly on the other side of the acrylic glass and said, “You want to give me a good reason not to turn you in?”
DP: What does Martin do?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Thu Jul 25, 2019 2:13 pm; edited 2 times in total
This chapter seems like it was mostly devoted to setting up the, well, setting. Even though that can slow down a chapter, this was really necessary and neat to see! It's also interesting to hear that different regions cost different 'time'. Is it just that you live life 'faster' if you're enjoying yourself peacefully? Is it a rent situation that you actually have to pay? I'm intrigued to see how that goes, and if it gets mentioned in the story again sometime soon.
There were a few things that took me out of the narrative.
Quote:
“Keep going,” Martin said. They had just started and it was a big city. “Is there someplace less fucked up?”
The driver quipped, “It’s not ‘If’, it’s ‘Where’.
Was Martin's line supposed to incline an 'if' in an original draft that got erased?
with the 'body taylors', you used the name Taylor, was that deliberate or a typo of tailor, the profession?
As for the DP, I heard that line about 'you want to give me a good reason not to turn you in?' and my brain went 'No.' So let's go with that. Whatever else Martin does, he refuses to answer the Taxi driver. _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
with the 'body taylors', you used the name Taylor, was that deliberate or a typo of tailor, the profession?
Misspelling Thanks, I fixed it. Also, I helped make the "If" response more sensible. I really don't want to let anyone out of the narrative. The longer I can keep them trapped, the better
Just saying "No" sounds so badass too. Thanks for your suggestion!
As for the DP, one thing I've learnt with negotiations is that if the other side is talking to us, then we have leverage. Right now, we just don't know what it is. We need to bide time and talk to him till we get him to show his hands. The fact that he asked us this question means there's something we can offer him.
Two things that we can potentially probe is the shift where he lost three months randomly, and the fact the he "needs a break" from something. Needing a break might not seem like much, but if he's willing to voluntarily go to a place where Time runs out faster, then there's something really affecting him that we can find a way to help with (or even make fake promises about). If he agrees to help even temporarily, we can potentially use the threat of "you helped a fugitive so you'll be punished too" later if he changes his mind.
My opinion is we haven't learned enough yet to be comfortable in capture. We need to play our hands correctly right now, and we might end up with an ally. _________________
Wrote a long reply and then my wifi here went down and lost it, so summary:
Violence! Threat of violence. Taxi driver doesn't know where he's from, could be somewhere where they have 'powers', or he may have powers 'cos he skipped customs control.
So: Head exploding threats, and maybe head exploding!
Posted: Fri Jul 26, 2019 5:50 am Post subject: Lost in the wifi
Chinaren wrote:
Wrote a long reply and then my wifi here went down and lost it
Aw, man! That sucks! So curious what you had to say! Guess I'll have to write another good chapter and hope it works out better. Your insights are invaluable.
Quote:
As for the DP, one thing I've learnt with negotiations is that if the other side is talking to us, then we have leverage.
Interesting observation! Fair to say he does think he might get more out of this unique arrangement. Working out how is going to be the hard part.
The way I'm seeing it, the DP currently looks like this:
Keep his cool, and just say "No".
Offer to cooperate to help him get whatever it is he wants.
Lie about what he can offer him with fake promises.
Try to lure him into helping until it looks like he's aiding a fugitive, then blackmail him.
I really like the way the story is developing. The world you are crafting is very, very intriguing.
Quote:
He looked normal. Just some handsome late twenty-something black guy.
Martin does strike me as the type of character who has the self esteem/ego to consider himself handsome. I just wanted to point this out in case he didn't, but you as the narrator were telling us he is handsome.
Quote:
...the bodies around them glistening in varying amounts of sweaty nakedness.
The addition of this to the line was well used.
Quote:
he drug lounges filled with colorful iridescent smoke. Those that partook had bizarre reactions. Butterflies flying from mouths ~ convulsing spikes shooting out of every inch of their bodies ~ flesh turning to moldable putty
The imagery here is so good. I'm a sucker for stuff like this. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Posted: Sat Jul 27, 2019 1:19 am Post subject: Re: Lost in the wifi
Lebrenth wrote:
The way I'm seeing it, the DP currently looks like this:
Keep his cool, and just say "No".
Offer to cooperate to help him get whatever it is he wants.
Lie about what he can offer him with fake promises.
Try to lure him into helping until it looks like he's aiding a fugitive, then blackmail him.
Violence! "You don't know where I've been, man!"
I like the blackmail one, but I want to tweak it. We probably can't lure him into helping now that he knows we're a fugitive, but we can still blackmail him. Just threaten to tell the authorities that the taxi knew all along that we were unregistered, and helped us to escape in the first place.
Posted: Sat Jul 27, 2019 4:04 pm Post subject: Re: Lost in the wifi
Key wrote:
I like the blackmail one, but I want to tweak it. We probably can't lure him into helping now that he knows we're a fugitive, but we can still blackmail him. Just threaten to tell the authorities that the taxi knew all along that we were unregistered, and helped us to escape in the first place.
That sounds like a useful distinction. Let's put this poll up!
Voted for "Offer to Co-operate" just because it's potentially easier to have him on our side now where he thinks he can get something out of this, rather than forcing him to help us where he'd constantly think of ways to get away.
We can betray him later or even actually help him if we can too _________________
4 way tie... Wouldn't it be nice to have a button that randomly broke ties? I may end up rolling a die or something since it seems like cheating to let me decide which option we take.
Posted: Wed Jul 31, 2019 3:39 pm Post subject: You break it, you buy it.
POLL CLOSED.
I had to break a 4-way tie using a random number generator, since I don't intend to make this easy on you by guiding you to the option I think is best. Anyway, I enjoy being surprised. Chapter under construction. You can expect it to be completed tomorrow.
4 way tie... Wouldn't it be nice to have a button that randomly broke ties? I may end up rolling a die or something since it seems like cheating to let me decide which option we take.
Posted: Thu Aug 01, 2019 9:58 pm Post subject: Chapter 4: Dance with the Devil
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 4: Dance with the Devil
In a place where you could look however you wanted, it’s crazy how the driver chose to look like a 40-something white taxi driver with a jutting chin covered in gray stubble. However, with this new prospect, a light shone on him. He even looked a little younger, a few gray hairs darkened and his features softened. Martin smirked and said,
“I see you thinking big over there.”
Taxi driver replied, “Oh yeah? Maybe that’s why they call me Biggs. I’m not going to lie, this bounty would help me out big time. And you know, it doesn’t really have to be a big deal for you. They’ll probably just give you your Time and let you go, like they do with everybody.”
“Aw now I thought you were thinking bigger than that,” Martin said.
“Maybe I was.”
“So stop holding back! What are you thinking about? Maybe we can help each other out.”
Biggs bit his lip and turned his head about, debating something fiercely. He looked back at Martin, who nodded encouragingly.
“Dammit,” Biggs said, scared but excited. “OK, maybe I have an idea. It could be the biggest payout of the century or it could lead to some very serious trouble.”
“Go on, big man, let’s hear it.”
“Probably the worst thing about Purgatory is watching your Time. Whether it’s a year or a decade, you know your time is coming eventually. Then you’re just waiting for your luck to run out. Maybe a “Shift” happens and you’re ending up as Lucifer’s shish-kebab. Like this poor schmuck,” he said, pointing to himself. “But there has to be people out there sitting on serious Time who would trade it all to make Time stop. There’s got to be a way to make it happen, you just step into their place in line and they walk away. Guys like you and me, we don’t have the means to keep up any kind of lifestyle without Time, but people who been here for a thousand years, they have connections. It’s like they say about some things being expensive to people who can’t afford it and free to those that can. Something like that. I’m sure there’s someone out there willing to deal. The trick is finding them without Death catching up to you, and that’s the least of your problems.”
“I’m feeling you, so where do we start?”
“That’s the best part,” he said, squinting over a sarcastic smile, “Only connection I got that might be able to help with something like this is a devil.”
“OK,” Martin said, taking it in.
“That’s easy for you, huh? God damn, maybe you are a devil.”
“Let’s say I am and see where it takes us,” Martin said with a grin. Biggs drew a deep breath, put the taxi into gear and continued the direction they were facing already. Biggs took a look over his shoulder at something beyond sight… an easy road with a decent payout… just one last look before committing to the low road.
“We have to make this happen within a week,” Biggs said.
“Why’s that?”
“Because I only have a week left.”
“Shit, man.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. But I was lucky. I was saving up for something or I wouldn’t have been sitting on enough time to make it at all. Most people used to live week to week. Seems like damn near a third of the city left at once when the Shift happened. It was like Armageddon.”
“What caused it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it was intentional, maybe it was coincidental. Maybe it’s a big conspiracy. It’s a one-way trip to Heaven or Hell. People don’t come back to tell about it. And trying to get a straight answer out of an angel or a devil is about as easy as juggling cats while you’re on fire. Anyway, I’m not eager to find out.”
“You have something to be afraid of?” Martin asked.
“Everyone that stays in Purgatory longer than a month has a story.”
“I heard people start with 10 years.”
“And they spend it like kids in a candy store. They don’t remember till Death hands them the bill that maybe there is a thing or two they forgot about.”
This made them both sink into contemplation. Martin skipped past his obvious transgressions, like the fact that he was a murderer, and he asked himself what other things he may have forgotten. If he died while he still had a brother, he would be on the hook for two robberies, a few fights, and maybe the drugs, if that was a sin. It was his brother that got him out of that life. It was hard every day, but God must have known he was trying. Brian made it look easy.
He also thought about dumb things as a kid, like taking cookies without permission, or pushing kids off the slide at the playground. That one kid needed stitches and still had a scar. What about stealing his friend’s girl? Or making fun of that guy with the missing ear? Mean-spirited shit. There ought to be some way to answer for it.
As Martin’s thoughts drifted, Biggs drifted even more, along with the taxi. His eyes were half closed and his head nodded. Martin looked up and had to bang on the glass to wake Biggs up. Biggs shook his head and he was alert again.
Martin asked, “So people have to sleep here, huh?”
“Yeah, when they can. I can’t afford it.”
“You will soon, my man. Try to keep us alive until then.”
They flew swiftly over larger than life fantastical re-creations of many themed casinos:
Some were idealized. Castles of every style ~ Big-Little versions of Paris, London, New York ~ Floating cruise ships.
Some were abstract. M.C. Escher on acid ~ Incandescent cascades of gemstones ~ Glass Mazes.
Some were natural. Waterfalls a mile high ~ A world-tree glowing with simple decorations ~ Atlantis claimed by coral reefs.
And some could be mistaken for the real Vegas. Cacophony of machines whirring and blinging ~ Coins gushing into bins under blinking lights ~ cigarette smoke as thick as an old man’s beard.
They passed all of these things and descended into the smoke layer to a place of embers in the void. A place of devils and despair in a ring around a pit that dropped straight into oblivion. Deeply embedded primal instincts recoiled at the sight of creatures older than light in unnatural shapes that the most unkind Earth would never produce. Heat without light ~ Stretched, twisted, swollen masses ~ Tormented conglomerations of willing and unwilling beings.
Biggs spoke gravely, “We’re officially in the last place you want to die. You’re gonna have to swallow all those feelings telling you to run away.”
“You sure about this,” Martin asked.
“Hell no,” Biggs said. “But believe it or not, we’re very welcome here.”
“What do they want?”
“In a word: everything. They call this place the Pit. All mortals welcome.”
They parked in the dark outside the fiery ring. Martin took a deep breath before getting out into the oppressive but tolerable heat. Then they walked into a relatively tame area. Humanoid devils ~ Sparse fires ~ Muted wailing. They stopped in a plaza with a bar served by human slaves, naked except their collars, with devils chatting over drinks in civil tones. Biggs stood still, eyes closed, and said a single word that had the profundity of banging a gong,
“Barrus.”
Satisfied with the deep resonance the word took, he proceeded to find a seat at a corner table not too near a fire. The devils around them took an interest, particularly one red-skinned deviless with cat eyes.
Martin asked, “Is that your friend’s name or something?”
“Yeah. He knows we’re here now. I don’t know how long we’ll wait. Might as well get comfortable.”
“You’re not going to sleep, are you?”
“That would be crazy,” he said, slouching onto the table.
In a few minutes, he fell into a fitful sleep. Martin kept his eyes open and noticed the collared woman with a shaved head approaching. Kneeling, she offered a tray with two drinks. Eyes lowered, she said,
“Compliments of Mistress Jezebel. Can this slave offer you anything else?”
“What is it?”
“Gin and Tonic, sir.”
“OK, not some kind of voodoo juice that turns me inside out or anything?”
“Do you desire something stronger, sir?”
“That would be a no thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Which one is Jezebel?”
The slave woman indicated with an open palm the cat-eyed deviless across the room. Jezebel raised her glass and Martin returned the gesture and drank.
“That’s pretty good,” he said and waited bravely for unusual effects, but found none. “You gonna drink that?” he asked Biggs, who still slept. He drank it as well. The slave remained until Martin noticed and said, “I’m good. You can go.” Now his eyes were doing the drinking. Jezebel enjoyed the attention. While Martin decided whether he should be getting mixed up with a devil, especially in a place like this, she decided to start dancing. As the drink settled into his brain, a faint blue fire burned on his skin, but he didn’t pay it any mind.
“Couldn’t hurt to talk to her, right Biggs?” Martin asked. Swaying hips ~ piercing eyes ~ exotic music coming from nowhere. His appetite outraced his discretion and soon he moved with her with intimate closeness. She asked questions and he answered. It didn’t occur to him to resist, and what he divulged to her felt like nothing of consequence. The dancing and the music stopped abruptly when she noticed someone enter the plaza. She smiled at Martin and left him with kiss that was tender, but hot to the touch. It was like a cocaine rush that woke him from his stupor.
“I can offer you far more than Barrus can. Look for me when you’re done hearing him out. Remember my name?”
“Jezebel,” Martin said, that same resonant quality came again.
“Very good. Take care not to upset him. No one wants a devil as an enemy,” she said. Martin enjoyed the way she said ‘devil’... made it sound like a good time. Then she walked away.
Barrus approached Biggs like someone left him a present. The way he put his hand to his chin and smirked made Martin think he was up to no good, so he stepped up and shook Biggs awake. Barrus put his hands on his hips as if to say ‘Really?’. He looked human, except for blacked out irises. The skin was a normal tone, and his clothing and bearing were inconspicuous. A nice suit, for sure, but nothing suspicious. The eyes were very off putting though. It was hard for Martin to concentrate while they watched him.
“Biggs,” Martin said. Biggs jumped up like someone stabbed him with a needle. He regained composure and started talking. He shot straight to the point while avoiding eye contact. He wanted Barrus to find a buyer and make the arrangements and they would split the Time evenly.
“Sounds interesting, Tom, but you understand you’ll need to hold my share for me, of course,” Barrus said, laying a hand on Tom Biggs’ hand. Biggs withdrew quickly.
“Yeah, fine. You can finally start paying me when I drive you around. You know I’m all dried up right now.”
“I noticed!” Barrus said aghast, “Only a week left! Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get you taken care of. It’s a good thing you found Mr. Wymont here. He’s a real gold mine.”
Martin said, “Yeah, thanks. So what do you think I’m worth?”
“I expect two centuries, on short notice. Could hold out for more, but Tom here doesn’t have much Time. I’ll start making inquiries.”
“I’m not agreeing to anything till I get a price,” Martin asserted.
“All right, tough guy. You’re the product after all. You decide when the price is right, but then you’ll have to commit. My clients do not like being jerked around,” Barrus said and winked at Biggs.
“Yeah, that’s fair,” Biggs said, “just don’t take too long, OK? You can stay with me until we have things sorted out.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Barrus said. “Mr. Wymont, would you give me and Tommy a moment to talk privately? Have yourself a drink and tell them to put it on my tab.”
Martin gladly stepped away from the overly familiar devil. ‘Tommy’ did not appear to be enjoying himself, but he didn’t push back as Barrus put his arm around him and whispered in his ear. Devil or not, Martin would have knocked out his teeth by now if he was in Biggs’ place.
Jezebel waited at the bar. When Martin arrived, she said,
“Two centuries split three ways? I could do much better.”
“What about Barrus?” Martin asked.
“What he wants is Tom Biggs. He’s been working on him for quite a while now. The real question is what do you want?”
DP: Who does Martin want to deal with? If no one, what does he do instead?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Sat Aug 03, 2019 6:19 am; edited 1 time in total
It’s like they say about some things being expensive to people who can’t afford it and free to those that can
Amen to that
Quote:
Or making fun of that guy with the missing ear? Mean-spirited shit. There ought to be some way to answer for it
While I'm not sure how something little like this will play out, I like this thought and the potential of it.
Quote:
Some were natural. Waterfalls a mile high ~ A world-tree glowing with simple decorations ~ Atlantis claimed by coral reefs
Oooooo, nice. I want to go here.
Quote:
As the drink settled into his brain, a faint blue fire burned on his skin, but he didn’t pay it any mind
This line before the dance scene is well crafted and placed. It shows us the reader that things are getting dulled and wonky. Then you add that to the unknown things he divulged and it raises the apprehension quite well.
What does he want? I think there are 3 ways we can push his character. But what makes sense right now is to fulfill his need for revenge, so maybe ask for information about his target. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Posted: Fri Aug 02, 2019 8:52 am Post subject: 3 ways
Emperor wrote:
A very well done chapter if I say so myself.
Thanks, Emperor! As always, I love reading your line highlights. Which of the natural wonders caught your interest?
Emperor wrote:
But what makes sense right now is to fulfill his need for revenge, so maybe ask for information about his target.
Very appropriate to re-align the real interest. Getting Time is just a stepping stone. I'll make this into its own DP option, but it will also be added as a rider to other agreements that may occur.
Posted: Fri Aug 02, 2019 11:00 am Post subject: Re: 3 ways
Lebrenth wrote:
Thanks, Emperor! As always, I love reading your line highlights. Which of the natural wonders caught your interest?
You are more than welcome! I hope they are not only encouraging but useful as well.
The World Tree and Atlantis in particular really appealed to me. To be honest when I was reading it for the first time, I thought the Waterfall, Tree and Atlantis were all one thing. Could be something there in that combo for a future SG. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Posted: Sat Aug 03, 2019 6:29 am Post subject: Re-framed
ten11 wrote:
He wants to find Gabriel Eldon, and make sure he pays.
Beyond that? Well, going to heaven is generally a desirable goal.
Thanks, ten11, but let me re-frame the DP a bit I'm glad we're talking about the big picture, but really I'm looking for an answer to the question of whether or not to deal with one of the devils. I try to avoid baking in poll options, but at a minimum we have doing a deal with Barrus or doing a deal with Jezebel. However, I don't want people to feel like they can't just walk away, but if that's the decision we need some other plan to go with it so I have something to write a chapter about.
Great chapter overall. I love that we got a brief snippet of his life as well in there. I can't believe I missed the suggestion period, but I've made my vote now _________________
Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2019 6:38 am Post subject: So Closed
Poll is closed and the next chapter is coming up in a few minutes. I'd first like to say that we can never assume DP options will be successful. Martin tries his best to put them into action, but they may not turn out the way he intended. The following chapter demonstrates that poignantly.
Posted: Thu Aug 08, 2019 7:21 am Post subject: Chapter 5: Two Sides of a Cage
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 5: Two Sides of a Cage
Martin looked between Jezebel and Barrus, both eager to be involved in this exchange, so why not play them against each other? He started it all with a single word.
“Barrus,” he said.
Barrus looked cross at his name being intoned, but looked up to see Jezebel and Martin talking. Jezebel looked sheepish, she was up to something right under his nose. His skin took on a redder hue and his stature grew as he approached. Jezebel matched his size and stood her ground at his approach. They were both 10 feet tall by the time they met up.
Barrus spoke first, “That one is mine, Jezebel.”
“Oh? I believe I saw him before you. He may have been waiting for you, but he made contact with me first.”
“You think I want to discuss nuances of protocol? I’m claiming him.”
Martin interrupted, “Hey, I haven’t made any deals with anyone!” He involuntarily cowered before them, as their features were becoming fiercer, animal-like and they still grew. He continued, nonetheless, but in a milder tone, “I just want the best deal possible. Jezebel says she can do better than 200 years split 3 ways.”
Biggs angrily spoke up as he advanced aggressively, “No deals? So you want to cut me out, you sneaky son of a bitch? You fucking snake in the grass!”
“Whoa, I didn’t say that!”
“Oh yeah, what are you saying? What’s better than 200 split 3 ways? How about 200 split 2 ways? You dumb motherfucker, I’m gonna rip your fucking head off!”
Martin was not intimidated. He said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but you better back up or you’re gonna regret it! Just cool it, gimme a minute!”
“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this. I should have turned you in when I had the chance. I only got a week left! You have no idea what I’ve been through trying to keep myself out of the fire!”
Jezebel’s hand came down like a wall between them as the punches started. Her head turned to Barrus as she spoke in a harsh language Martin couldn’t understand. Barrus considered, looking carefully at Biggs seething with hate and his fingers curled into tight fists. Barrus responded passively. Biggs looked for backup, he asked,
“Barrus, you aren’t going to put up with this, are you?”
Barrus replied, “I can not force him to accept our terms, Tom. He has to choose to surrender the Time.”
Jezebel laughed and flicked Biggs away like a bug and said “Hush, child, the grown-ups are talking.”
Martin said, “Nothing happens without me, so cut that shit out!”
Jezebel quickly flattened Martin on the ground, speaking more devil-tongue in his face. He couldn’t move her hand an inch with all of his strength.
Martin spat back, “Afraid to talk English, you fat bitch?”
With great relish, she carefully positioned her elongated finger nail, now longer than a spear, onto his abdomen. When she found just the right spot, she plunged it through him and into the ground beneath him. He screamed as it burned inside him.
She said, “Wait here,” as she broke off the nail. Any attempt to move was punished with sharp pain. Barrus and Jezebel returned to human size and spoke out of earshot. They schemed so emphatically they paid no attention to Biggs or Martin. Biggs picked up a chair and staggered over to Martin. It hurt to talk, but Martin weakly said,
“I’ll get you your time, man, I’ll get it, you’ll see.”
“We’re way past talking,” Biggs said. “I’m bringing you in now.” He raised the chair over his head. Martin tried to protect himself with his arm, but all of the pent up rage Biggs exploded at once. Jezebel beamed and Barrus clapped as Biggs hit Martin over and over. He broke the chair so he picked up a chair leg and kept hitting. Martin could do nothing. Soon there was just a pool of slime in his place.
Finally, Biggs stopped, covered in decomposing blood. He looked over at the devils. They were so pleased. He dropped the leg and looked at his shaking hands. Biggs searched for words, but could only plead for them to stay back. They walked slowly as he started scooping up Martin’s remains and putting them in the nearest receptacle, a trash can. The trash can started smoking and soon burst into flames. Biggs tried swatting it out, but it was no use, the whole can melted.
Jezebel said, “Oh dear, bad move, Biggs. Don’t you know they found his brother’s body in a dumpster? He really doesn’t like that. Here, let’s try this.”
Jezebel bent down and sucked the slime into her mouth and down to her stomach. Biggs recoiled and tried to run but Barrus caught him by the back of the neck. Biggs begged,
“Please, Barrus, I’ve done nothing but help you.”
“Oh, I know, you’ve been most helpful,” he said and with monstrous force threw his fist and crushed Biggs’ face. Biggs liquified onto the ground. Jezebel finished drinking and stood beside Barrus, who offered her a handkerchief to wipe off her mouth. She asked,
“What will you do with him?”
Barrus said, “Nothing more to do but wait for Judgement.”
“May I play with him until then?”
“You have your belly full already. Leave him be, there’s nothing he can do now. I’ll have him in Hell in a few days. What will you do with your new toy?”
“He’s a fighter, Barrus, I can feel him fighting to get out already. I could use a soldier.”
“Good, well it’s been a pleasure,” he said and offered his hand. When she went to take it he clamped down hard on her. He threatened her in devil-tongue and she nodded with gritted teeth before he let her go. She departed quickly, heading straight for the Pit.
Burning ~ Suffocating ~ Squeezing. Martin somehow knew he was inside the deviless, he clawed and scalded and she could not pretend it wasn’t hurting. She leapt into the Pit without hesitation and unfolded black wings to carry them into a cave inside the walls. The cave was a torture chamber with many creative tools and machines. She ran to a large cage with a basin floor and vomited violently within. The slime that was Martin collected in the center. It bubbled for a few minutes, then it darkened and became mud-like, finally coming to rest for a long time.
Martin could only compare the experience to the worst hangover ever. Everything ached and he was very weak. Breathing took too much effort, thinking took too much effort, even existing felt too hard to be worth it. There was a strange peace to absolute dilapidation, but Martin would only let himself rest long enough to gain strength, then he pushed again. It was like being under a collapsed tent of heavy canvas, every effort was difficult, but it gained him a little more room, a little better leverage, and space to move. He was still weak as an infant when his body was more or less back together. By the time he attempted his first words, it felt like years had passed.
During his convalescence, the woman from the bar checked on him. She would hold his hand and hum, she would whisper gentle encouragement. It made him think of his own mother a lot. She had cancer too, just like Gabriel Fucking Eldon, and she received treatment at one of his free clinics. She couldn’t afford a normal hospital, so they all thought it was a blessing. She thanked God for Gabriel Eldon and prayed for him as much as herself. It was Brian that found out the truth. It saved her life, for a while at least. Still, no one would have guessed she would outlive both of her sons.
Martin jumped out of his rumination with a violent oath, “I’ll fucking kill him!” Then he remembered himself, where he was, and how weak he still felt. He laid back down, not caring about his nakedness. What the fuck was he going to do now?
Jezebel opened a nearby door and called out, “Is that my soldier?” she said. She pranced over and looked at him. “I’ve been waiting so long, but you’re finally back. I can’t wait any longer to start training you!”
“Yeah, fuck it, train me. I’m really good at playing dead now, how ‘bout we start working on rolling over?”
“All right then, go ahead. Roll over!”
“Go fuck yourself,” he said, not even looking up. She laughed and called out,
“Piggy! Get me the stinger.”
The shaved slave replied, “Yes, Mistress.” With her head hung low, she handed Jezebel a large dismembered scorpion tail, then waited nearby. Jezebel looked at it thoughtfully and waved it playfully around. She said,
“I’m actually glad you’re putting up a fight. I want that bulldog attitude of yours at my command, but you need to learn that there’s one bitch you never mouth off too. This isn’t exactly the sort of thing you break in a new slave with, but I’m thinking you’ll survive. If not, we’ll try again in a few months.” And with that, she struck him on the buttcheek. He expected a lot of pain, and he wasn’t wrong, but there was something else going on too. The poison was working on his mind. It had to be hallucination, even in a place as fucked up as this. Everything looked wrong, distorted like a Picasso painting. Eyes and mouths were appearing where they shouldn’t be, including all over his body. He looked at the wound where the poison started, and the eyes there were red and crying pus. Despite fighting it, he couldn’t convince himself they weren’t real.
“How do you like it?” Jezebel asked. She gently touched his shoulder which caused him to shriek in pain and terror. “Would you like the antidote?”
“Yes… please…”
“Roll over!”
“Can’t… EYES!”
She raised the scorpion tail over him, which looked to him like a hydra with 11 heads. He didn’t want his eyes to touch the fangs on the ground, but he couldn’t bear more poison! Very slowly, he started to roll. It felt like cactus needles piercing his eyes, but all over his body. A thousand needles ~ itching pain ~ every move disastrous.
It was a poor performance, but his obedience was clear.
“Good boy. If you learn to listen, I’ll make you a fine weapon. The perfect weapon for revenge. I’ve been looking around and I have some special news for you. I know where Gabriel Eldon is.”
Martin could barely speak, but slowly struggled for the words “Where… is... he?”
“Don’t you worry, I won’t lose him. You’ll have a chance to prove your loyalty. Then I’ll teach you the dark arts; to transform, to inflame, to break the unbreakable. When I know I can trust you, I’ll help you complete your revenge. If there’s anything I know, it’s how to make people suffer. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Can you imagine him in your place now?”
“How?” Martin said. The delusional mouths hissed and cursed at him.
“You need a lot of work first. You can’t help yourself, you’re stubborn. But I’ll know when you’re ready. I already know exactly how I’ll test you.”
The mouths and eyes replaced everything now, nothing wasn’t an eye or a mouth. The eyes stung, he could feel them all, even the ones not on his body, and the mouths screamed and bit at him. He was feeling himself melt and he wasn’t sure if it was reality or illusion. Jezebel was still talking but he couldn’t hear her.
After satisfying her sadism a little longer, she casually ordered her slave to get the antidote and administer it, then she ordered the slave away. She wanted to be the first thing Martin saw when he stopped hallucinating. He received the antidote just in time, as his body truly began to melt back into a slimy pool. He watched his arms re-form, and the eyes and mouths close up. He felt very lucid before they were all gone and he realized it was not all illusion. Phantom pains persisted for an hour, the pain of the poison lasted, though dramatically dulled, much longer.
After Jezebel left, the slave returned to help clean the blood and pus off of Martin. She refused to be called anything but ‘slave’ or ‘Piggy’, as that is all her Mistress would allow.
Eventually Martin asked, “Why don’t you run?”
Piggy said, “This is where I’m supposed to be.” Martin shook his head. She continued, “You mustn’t keep defying the Mistress. She’ll break you eventually.”
“Will she really help me if I do as I’m told?”
“She will. She wants her slaves to act upon their darkest desires. She’ll want to bring you to Hell eventually.”
“A fucking slave,” Martin said to himself looking at his cage. “What if I can’t do that? Do I really have any choice?”
She stopped and turned away. Trembling, barely audible, she said, “I could free you.”
“You said what I think you said, right?” He asked. She nodded. “But not yourself?”
“I can never leave.”
“You sure about that?” he asked. Again she nodded. It horrified him to think how completely trapped she was. Would he end up like her? It didn’t seem possible, but here he was. He looked at the room, it was made to do horrible things. That poison nearly made him lose his mind. He really didn’t know what was possible.
But also, for the first time since entering Purgatory, he had a lead to Eldon, and something like a plan for how to make him suffer. Being Jezebel’s bitch wouldn’t be a bad start for that bastard. Also the training, whatever that included, could be very useful. … Was it worth it?
DP: Does Martin attempt to escape?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Thu Aug 08, 2019 9:20 am; edited 1 time in total
Great chapter and so many good scenes to choose from.
Quote:
His skin took on a redder hue and his stature grew as he approached. Jezebel matched his size and stood her ground at his approach. They were both 10 feet tall by the time they met up
What a great tool and detail. The way power dynamics play out here is wonderful. Half bestial half political, all wonderful.
Quote:
even existing felt too hard to be worth it
I just liked this line in general. It pulled at me.
As for is the information worth it? Disregarding the pun - hell no. Things are spiraling way out of control. We need to bounce out of here as sub light speeds. Maybe drag her with us whether she likes it or not. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Everything looked wrong, distorted like a Picasso painting.
I think this might be one of my favourite lines, ever.
Great chapter. The whole turning-into-slime and the recuperation from it was handled really well. Tidy!
As for the DP, I'm a little skeptical. How come she can help us escape, but we can't? I'm leaning towards taking the opportunity, but not before getting a clearer picture of what's going on. Why does Jezebel want slaves in the first place? Is it just power-games, or is there something larger going on here?
I'm not really inclined to help the slave woman escape. It's a distraction from our main goal for this SG, and to quote Jezebel herself, "No one wants a devil as an enemy". _________________
Firstly, a moment of honesty. This isn't my kind of story. If this were a book, for my sanity's sake, I'd put it back on the shelf. BUT!
I'm liking anyway. That's some awesome work you're doing! There's a mastery of visuals that makes it very easy to picture both the horrible things happening, and how they look to the person they're happening to (Martin). I'm beginning to suspect there won't be a strictly happy ending at the end of this tale, which kind of sucks, but I also don't like Martin enough yet to really be rooting for that. It'll be interesting to see if purgatory breaks him or if it builds him higher.
As for the DP, I say fake it. It's against Martin's personality, but it's worth trying to pretend to 'be her bitch' and then just, wait for an opportunity to have his cake and eat it too. _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Trying to escape at this point would be crazy. Jezebel will catch us in a minute. In fact, there's a pretty good chance that Piggy is making this offer on Jezebel's orders, as a test.
Stay here a while. Get some training. See what we can find out about Eldon. If Piggy's offer is sincere, you'll still have that options later.
Posted: Sat Aug 10, 2019 6:14 am Post subject: Kenobi
Novelest_Ninjagirl wrote:
Firstly, a moment of honesty. This isn't my kind of story.
I'm surprised I haven't lost you It seems every time I'm about to post, I'm like, "Well, Ninjagirl isn't going to like this," because you've been clear from the beginning that this isn't your kind of story. I'm very pleased that you've kept going and that it isn't just because you want to encourage any active story in IF. Thank you for your feedback and your interest. Fascinating that you care enough to see what happens, but you're not ready to hope for a happy ending.
Emperor, you're right. It is useful to have a few highlights. I bear them in mind while writing, feeling a bit more confident that they're something that would be enjoyed. It's surprising how much an encouraging pat on the back helps. I treasure them and I do not take them for granted. Thanks to Vishal too! I'm glad that line caught you. I almost feel like it's cheating to employ someone else's art style to describe our scenes, but it did its job so elegantly it's hard to pass it up.
I appreciate your contributions too, Key! I don't want to influence DP's, so I won't comment, except that I'm pleased we have diverging opinions on the best course of action. It makes the polling more interesting
Last edited by Lebrenth on Sun Aug 11, 2019 6:13 am; edited 1 time in total
Seems I missed the suggestions, but I think the options included what I would have said anyway, which was to play along with the demon, though also keep Piggy interested too, without acting on anything.
I have to say Lebs, that the POV changes threw me a bit at the start/middle. Up to then you'd (Mostly) kept Martin's POV. Changing like that without a break confuses me a little. That said, I'm easily confused.
I have to say Lebs, that the POV changes threw me a bit at the start/middle. Up to then you'd (Mostly) kept Martin's POV. Changing like that without a break confuses me a little. That said, I'm easily confused.
The way I imagined it, though I didn't write it down anywhere, Martin was somehow aware of what was going on around him despite being a pool of slime. For instance, how he somehow knew he was being scooped up into a trash can. I expect it was an out of body experience that would feel like dreaming. Once he woke up, it would be hard to recall and he would ask himself whether it was real or not. If that concept was introduced, do you feel like it would have been less jarring and/or confusing? I don't think we jump into the thoughts of anyone else, it was all observable stuff, unless I missed something.
Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2019 10:21 am Post subject: Chapter 6: This Little Piggy
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 6: This Little Piggy
It took time. Martin was every bit the badass he thought he was, he hit the bottom before, many times. He had looked down the barrel of pistols without flinching, but more than that, he made it back when he had to scrape together the little pieces of his life that was left after it all came apart. Betrayed by friends ~ Abandoned by his girl ~ Police manhunt. When he OD’d on heroin, he hoped he would die. When they took his mug shots, he thought that was the last image his family would ever want to see of him. But, with his mother and his brother’s help, he built himself up again. The things that knocked down a normal person didn’t even phase him anymore.
But under the whip of Jezebel, in timeless darkness, he fell to his knees.
Suffocation ~ Dissection ~ Humiliation. Diabolical torture was his daily meal. She said she had to burn him down to build him up. It was all supposed to be a ruse; he would pretend to be loyal just until he learned what he needed. Then the pain scraped away his resolve and he would tell Jezebel everything and do anything. He accepted his fate and slept in a locked dumpster that looked exactly the same as the one they found Brian Wymont in. After that she named him ‘Garbage’. It was then she knew she had him. She commanded and he did it without question. He walked through fire, he ate maggots, he helped torture others that had the misfortune of falling into her hands. He complied in every way, even when he knew it would turn against him, like when slaves evaporated.
Boiling flesh ~ Shrieking Mist ~ Fading to nothing. The other slaves melted away quickly under any real torture. Jezebel would curse at them being unworthy when they evaporated entirely, leaving her with an empty cage. She would turn her wrath on Garbage, who at least knew how to take a beating. He endured and never evaporated away like the others. Only he and Piggy could take the torture and not vanish. This made them special to their owner, which gave them a twisted sense of pride.
Then while they were alone, Garbage asked Piggy, “Why don’t we vanish?” Piggy smiled almost imperceptibly. She put her hand on Garbage’s cheek and quietly replied,
“We belong here. You know it. I know it.”
“How do you know?”
“We’re bad people, Martin.”
“Don’t say that word!” Garbage said, immediately checking to see if Jezebel was near.
“She’s away. I can feel her.”
“What?”
“I can feel when she’s near or far. We are one.”
“I can’t feel her.”
“You will one day.”
“I don’t want to feel her. I want to feel you,” he said. Her eyes widened in surprise. Though his subjugation was complete, Garbage still resisted one thing. That was probably why he was still kept caged where Piggy was allowed to wander free. As the revelation settled in, her passive composure crumbled, she fell to her knees, buried her face in her hands and sobbed violently.
“Please,” Garbage begged. His eyes became watery. “Please don’t cry.” He reached for her, but could not reach her. After a minute she ran away. “No! Please don’t go!”
It was quiet. Garbage trembled. He wanted to die. Not halfway, not to some God-forsaken nonsensical ghost city, totally and completely die. He felt he could will it to happen. He could just choose it if he wanted. Then Piggy returned with keys. She stopped, her eyes streaming. Garbage sighed in relief, then got caught in apprehension. He said,
“What are you doing?”
“Why didn’t you tell Mistress that I offered to free you? When she tortured you, you told her everything. You told her who you killed, who you cared about, you told her when she forgot to lock your cage.”
“She was testing me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“... I don’t know. I can’t,” he said. He couldn’t explain himself. He just couldn’t bear to betray her.
“I don’t deserve it,” she said.
“You’re wrong. I’ve been there, you are worth everything! You just need help!” Martin said… it was Martin talking this time. She shook her head vigorously, she shut her ears against his words.
“Stop it! Don’t make me feel!”
Soul burning rage ~ an explosion from the pit of his stomach ~ every emotion at once. Martin burst the cage apart. Piggy fell back fearfully. Martin emerged inflamed, but cooled off quickly as he knelt beside her. He just took her hand and she calmed down. She asked,
“How did you do that?”
“Oh shit!” he said and looked back. The cage wasn’t just open, it was fucking mangled. The mistress would not be happy about this… if he couldn’t be caged… what would she do? “Where is she now?”
“I-- I don’t know!”
“What?”
“I don’t know! I can’t feel her now,” she said, her tears returning.
“Not now!” he said and pulled her onto her feet. He looked at the wreckage again. “God damn it! She never told me a damn thing!” The mixture of fear, guilt, and outrage made his heart feel like it was going to explode. He truly felt escape was impossible, that it would only get worse, but he also knew it was pretty fucking bad already. He reluctantly said, “We should leave.”
She said, “No. I’m not going.” Martin felt stabbed. A strong feeling seized him, made him feel he was doing wrong, that he should wait for Mistress and accept whatever fate she had for him. Piggy was right. He collapsed.
“What will she do?”
“Martin, I’m staying. You should go.”
“I’m not Martin. I’m Garbage. I’ve been garbage my whole life.”
“No! You mean something! You have people looking for you! No one is looking for me. No one wants me except Mistress.”
“No one is looking for me!” he said. Piggy looked away. She walked to a corner of the room and pulled a piece of paper out from under a chest. Handing it to Martin, she said,
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to leave. It was very selfish of me.”
“What is…” Martin stopped when he saw the flyer. It was like his wanted poster from before, but it said ‘MISSING’. Near the bottom it instructed anyone with information to contact Dr. Brian Wymont at the Purgatory Shelter. It had an address. “Brian?”
“Listen. Martin, I don’t have much Time left. It’s too late for me. If the Mistress finds out she can’t control you, she’ll do everything she can to destroy you.”
Martin trembled. Jezebel instilled a fear into him that overshadowed everything he’s ever been afraid of, but his brother was out there, Eldon was out there, whatever was left of his dignity was out there. He cleared his throat.
“What’s the best way out?”
“There are two ways,” she said, tears freely overflowing. “The Pit is a dangerous climb, but you can make it. Your dark skin will help, but you might still get spotted. You can also go through the passageways. You’ll see other devils there, if they recognize you as Jezebel’s slave, they might try to capture you.”
“OK, and here’s the real question, which way will be best for you?”
“Martin, leave me. This is what I want. I can stall the Mistress. If I go with you, I’ll slow you down.”
Thinking about that Pit falling into the lap of another devil was the last thing he needed. At least he built up some trust with Mistress Jezebel. Maybe this was the way he could bring that trust to the next level. Just admit everything and beg for mercy. The old Martin would never conceive it, but the old Martin didn’t have these nightmares blocking the exits. It was the same question he asked when this all started, but not as the same person.
Posted: Thu Aug 15, 2019 10:35 am Post subject: Poll Results, Chapter 5
Forgot to post the results of the previous chapter's poll. I like to put these up for the record:
Chapter 6 Poll will likely look similar. I would rather not repeat DP's but here we are.
ALSO, I need to make a change to schedule. Due to some increasing demands on my time, I'm temporarily going to a two week schedule... 1 week for suggestions, 1 week for voting. We'll re-evaluate after October. Let me know if you have a preference.
OK, I think we better leave now before we lose what's left of ourself.
Take Piggy even if she doesn't want to come. Let her go back after we get out if she wants to, but it's safer to be kidnapped than to stay having helped with our escape.
Well, this chapter was interesting! I do love how you used the change back and forth between the narrator referring to our protagonist as 'Martin' and 'Garbage', made it easy to get into exactly where his mind was. Also this line stuck out:
Quote:
“I don’t want to feel her. I want to feel you,” he said.
Because it can be interpreted either very romantically or very ~romantically~, it legitimately made me giggle even with how tense this chapter was.
As for the DP, I'm saying risk it all, climb the pit. But I'm also gonna throw something in, because I'm a hopeless romantic and you can't bloody stop me. I say he asks Piggy for some sort of favor, some object he can remember her by, to give him good luck on his escape attempt. Might be worth it to have later, a reminder that even in this hell— heh— there was something good. _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
This episode was good Lebs, but, if I'm harsh, I think it could have been really powerful. I mean, I'm loving this character, this world, this idea, but I feel that you could make more of it.. Eg:
Quote:
Soul burning rage ~ an explosion from the pit of his stomach ~ every emotion at once. Martin burst the cage apart. Piggy fell back fearfully. Martin emerged inflamed, but cooled off quickly as he knelt beside her. He just took her hand and she calmed down. She asked,
“How did you do that?”
“Oh shit!” he said and looked back. The cage wasn’t just open, it was fucking mangled. ...”
This, IMHO, could be a major thing in this story. How did he do this? Does he have... love, which no one else could have down here? Does he have something else? (I do like this aspect btw)
However, I think it could be emphasized. I felt this episode was slightly hurried again, it could be made into much, much more. The whole 'garbage/Martin' thing is genius, pure literary gold, and it doesn't deserve to be rushed.
I know from your comments on mine that stretching things out isn't your thing really, mine neither tbh, but I find that if you do stretch out stuff a bit there's more impact when the action happens.
Posted: Mon Aug 19, 2019 1:08 pm Post subject: Fonts are friends
Chinaren wrote:
love
That's a fantastic font choice! This is a really important development that we will explore more in future chapters. I'm listening to your feedback and I'll devote more content to important elements in future chapters. Honestly, this single chapter felt like it deserved 3 chapters detailing how the relationship between Martin and Piggy grew amid the hardships inflicted by Jezebel. They have a bond that readers do not understand on an emotional level and I'm sorry for it, but I'm still trying to get to the DP quickly before I lose the reader's interest. Perhaps I just need to tell myself the readers are invested enough to want the details and I'm not boring anyone. It does encourage me when the words 'literary gold' are applied to any part of my work.
Chinaren wrote:
Anyhoo, missed the SP, so will wait and, er, wait...
Nope, I changed the schedule. Until November I'm going to be pretty busy so we're doing a two week schedule to help me stay on top of things. If you have a suggestion, go for it.
Because it can be interpreted either very romantically or very ~romantically~, it legitimately made me giggle even with how tense this chapter was.
I was nervous about that line, but it seemed the most appropriate. He definitely has a point-blank personality. We'll work something out if he asks for a keepsake, though it will be difficult because she has no possessions and nothing in the room carries any sentimental value; actually the opposite of sentimentality. If I can be silly for a second, it would be like "please take these shackles to remind you of the bond we share".
We'll have 2 options at least, but we're closing the door on the suggestion phase soon.
Key's suggestion: Escape and refuse to leave without Piggy.
Ninjagirl: Climb up through the Pit (and ask for a keepsake from Piggy).
I'm debating whether I should add "Stay and face Jezebel's wrath in hopes of earning her trust"... because it is something on Martin's mind and we're missing a few readers that might have filled in the option.
Posted: Thu Aug 29, 2019 5:56 pm Post subject: Chapter 7: Love or Revenge
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 7: Love or Revenge
If not now, never. Any more time in the crucible of Jezebel’s persuasion and there might not be anything left of him. He would be like Piggy. For fuck’s sake, she didn’t even want her old name anymore. He looked at her for a moment like a total stranger, forgetting that she was the one that put him back together over and over after Jezebel broke him. She was the only good thing here. But did he really know her at all?
Martin asked, “What’s your real name?”
Piggy shook her head. “Piggy.”
“The hell it is. What’s the name your mother gave you?”
Piggy’s face twisted up in pain, “That is what she called me. And Whore. Bitch. Tramp. Slut... Dyke….”
“Come with me. You don’t have to stay.”
“She’ll find me. If not here, than in Hell.”
“Who? Your mom or your devil?”
She nodded, unable to talk.
Martin started again, “Come with me!”
She shook her head.
“To Hell with you then!” he yelled and rebounded, “Why are you doing this?”
“Please go. She’ll be back soon.”
Martin felt his heart breaking in half. He said, a little embarrassed,
“At least give me something to remember you by."
She looked at him quizzically, wiping away tears to clear her sight, looked at herself and around the dungeon. She said,
“What could I give you?” She continued looking and thinking, but nothing looked sentimental at all. A whip? A collar? A scalpel? With a half smile, she picked up a grimy blood stained sponge that she used to clean Martin up with.
“OK. I wish you had a lock of hair or something.”
“Oh!” she said and ran to a corner. She retrieved two keys and swiftly unlocked a velvet-lined cabinet and then a small chest. She knew exactly how to get into everything. Martin shook his head. She could leave any time she wanted, but she wouldn’t. She brought him a small braid of vibrant red hair with a smile.
Martin said, “Is that right? I thought you might be a redhead…. It must have looked beautiful.” He held it up next to her face to imagine it.
She nodded. He wondered if he would even recognize her like that. Then Martin peered in the cabinet at a number of strange treasures. Weapons, bottles of strange concoctions, jewelry….
“What is all of that?”
“Mistress would be so mad,” Piggy said, then suddenly laughed, making Martin jump.
“Fuck me, warn me if you’re going to go crazy.”
“What does it matter now? Take whatever you want! Here!” she said hysterically, pulling out a gun and pointing it at Martin. “Bang, bang! Haha haha ha!”
Martin snatched the gun away. “What the hell has gotten into you?”
“What do you think this is?” Piggy asked, holding up a jar with some floating organ in it. “Do you think it’s a potion or something?”
“I think it’s none of our god damned business, how about we --”
Piggy threw the jar on the ground, glass and fluids flew everywhere and the organ or whatever it was started moving.
“Oopsie!”
“Oh you’ve really flipped now, come on! No, come on!”
“No! This is my last chance! Don’t you see!? I’m going to Hell!”
“Then why don’t you come away with me?”
“And miss the chance to see the look on her face!? No way in … HELLLLLLLL!” she wailed, laughing. Martin dragged her away before she unleashed another monstrosity. The organ that might be a liver pulsated as it grew. She broke away. “Hey, you should try on your suit! This was meant for you when you were ‘properly trained’,” she said with a very poor imitation of Jezebel. “She never fucking made me anything to wear… wait no, this lovely collar was made just for me.” Then she skipped over to another cabinet and revealed an all black suit with a satin tie.
“Yeah, that’s great. Is that thing going to keep growing?”
“Come on! Try it on!”
Martin kept an eye on the door and on the liver as he dressed. A perfect fit and it felt good to be respectable again. He pocketed the gun, the ‘missing’ poster, and the lock of hair. He carried the shoes toward the entrance from the Pit. Piggy knocked a few things over before throwing herself on the ground an absolute wreck. Martin offered his hand again but, again, she shook her head.
Martin said, “Piggy, there’s only 4 people in the world that I love.” He turned her face up to look at him. “You’re one of them.”
She turned away. It hurt him.
He said, “You aren’t going to know the difference when you get there. You put yourself in Hell a long time ago. I wish I could help you.”
She stood up, walked to the edge of the Pit, looked back and said, “I’m glad I met you first. My name was Emma.”
Then she leapt backward into the Pit. Martin lost sight of her immediately in the consuming darkness.
He felt cold emptiness as he looked on. He wasn’t sure what he should be feeling, he was just stunned and hollow. Then the liver grew large enough to knock something down and he immediately thought it was Jezebel. He recognized that he really needed to leave now.
The sides of the Pit looked very scalable at first. Very craggy and lots of footholds but the first grip revealed that it was not solid stone. It was slick and organic, like climbing the entrails of a giant. Not a single yard of it lent him a firm anchor, it was one desperate grip to another. He threw his shoes away and accepted that the slippery red fluid from every surface would coat his entire body. Many times, he started slipping and lost precious progress. He was certain he would fall and only desperation kept him fighting to grab hold of something. There was no resting possible. He had to push himself over and over. It was so dark and his eyes drowned in the red. He couldn’t tell where he was or if he made any progress at all.
“You’re going to have to dig yourself out of that hole,” he heard Brian say. It didn’t sound natural.
“Brian?” Martin asked desperately. “Is that you, brother?”
“Martin, you’re the strongest person I know, but even the strongest can’t do everything,” said Brian’s voice.
“Brian, where are you?”
“You’re going to have to dig yourself out of that hole you made,” Brian’s voice said, “But I’ll be here for you when you get out.”
“Oh my god, no,” Martin said. He knew those words. Brian said them when Martin was fighting his addiction to heroin. He was delirious but he remembered, probably because he was feeling delirious now. “You’re not here. You’re dead, Brian!”
“But I’ll be here for you when you get out. Hush now, brother.”
“Brian, I need your help,” Martin said. Then he heard a scream like an explosion. Some deviless was furious and it didn’t take much to guess who.
“Hush now, brother.”
Martin stayed quiet, he hugged the wall of the Pit as hard as he could. He could almost feel Jezebel’s eyes in the darkness. Close by he heard her?
“Piggy! Garbage! I will find you!”
The flutter of giant wings pushed a hot wind over him. The walls solidified around him and he could not move, but at least he could rest, then one last rush of wind, and as though Jezebel dropped into a dive, all was still. Martin took no extra time, he pushed and fought to break free again, and climb. Then the Pit lit up with a tower of fire. Martin looked down in horror thinking what may have happened to Emma. Then he looked up and could see he was nearly there.
He took a few breaths and then ran. He crossed paths with many strange creatures that defy categorization beyond hideous. Globs of flesh ~ Arachnoid Devils ~ Columns with poison gas hissing through their mouths. He ran past everything and didn’t look back and nothing he encountered could scare him more than the prospect of being recaptured. In the ashy outskirts and felt safe enough to circle around to where Biggs first brought him.
The taxi cab was still there, though it looked far worse than he would have expected. Rust spots everywhere ~ Windows caked with soot ~ Held together as if by string. He opened the driver’s side door and got in. He felt marginally safer… the dull roar of fire was duller, and the red light was blocked out. He started looking for a hidden key. Glove compartment, under the seats, in the visor, nowhere. He punched the dash in frustration and a key fell at his feet.
“Yes! Now to see if this thing starts!”
It shook violently at the first turn of the engine, throwing soot everywhere. Martin tried again.
“You can do it, baby. You took care of Biggs, now you can take care of me.”
The car shuddered and stopped.
“Hey, I know you miss him,” he said, not caring that he talked to it like a pet. He’d always talked to his cars and it always helped, as far as he was concerned. “You know he would want you to keep going. Come on, baby, you can do it!”
It shook more soot off, it lifted up off the ground.
“Yeah! That’s it! Now let’s get away from this hell hole!”
And with that, he was off. He had to work out how to go up and down, but everything else was just like a normal car. He floored the pedal and soon the fiery pit was out of sight.
“Maybe we’ll be ok, baby. It’s a big city, that bitch can’t look everywhere,” he said. He absent-mindedly tried the radio and found that there was indeed music in Purgatory. A lot of choices too. He started listening to some R&B to try to chill out to. He got out the Missing Poster.
“So, big brother’s still in Purgatory,” he said to the taxi. “Baby, I don’t know about this. He’s been dead over a year now. Shit, how do you go back and say ‘Hey? How you been? You know I killed someone over the shit they did to you?’ I mean, fuck. God damn shame what happened to Emma. Hey, I know I could have done better by your friend Biggs, too. We gotta put those things behind us.”
As a radio ad began, he slammed the brakes and turned up the volume. A voice that exudes charm and confidence struck him hard.
“-- waiting for Death. The rest of us have a life in Purgatory and we aim to keep it that way. Since the Shift of 2019, we have to face facts: it could happen again without warning.”
“That motherfucker!” Martin yelled.
“-- with Shift Insurance, you have a friend in waiting, ready to bail you out on a moment’s notice. In life, I helped people by opening free clinics in cities across the country and I can help you get that extra time you need to postpone Judgement until you’re good and ready, if ever. Come to the 33rd Floor of the Coleridge Building to meet our expert assessors to find a plan that works for you. I’m Gabriel Eldon, and I help you slam the door on Death.”
“You could have hid, you sack of shit, but you had to get your greasy ass on the radio, didn’t you?”
The missing poster was still in his hand. He had two addresses he could find… which one to take first? Was he ready to meet his brother again? The Coleridge Building was just a trailhead… Eldon was almost certainly there doing his own work, but he couldn’t let the trail go cold, either. And then again, was he ready for any kind of assault? Alone with one gun?
DP: To the Purgatory Shelter? To the Coleridge Building? Or maybe somewhere else?
“To Hell with you then!” he yelled and rebounded, “Why are you doing this?”
I snicker every time your characters use phrases like this, now that they're in places where 'hell' isn't figurative any more. I love it.
Quote:
“Mistress would be so mad,” Piggy said, then suddenly laughed, making Martin jump.
“Fuck me, warn me if you’re going to go crazy.”
There's a beautiful contradiction in 'warn me if you're going to go crazy'.
Quote:
“You can do it, baby. You took care of Biggs, now you can take care of me.”
The car shuddered and stopped.
“Hey, I know you miss him,” he said, not caring that he talked to it like a pet. He’d always talked to his cars and it always helped, as far as he was concerned. “You know he would want you to keep going. Come on, baby, you can do it!”
As someone who also talks to inanimate objects, I relate. I like to say 'I wouldn't do it if it didn't work'. Hopefully this car holds out! And doesn't require much in the way of fuel.
As for the DP, I am 100% leaning towards seeing his brother. For one, after the hell he just went through, it'd be good for Martin to have some form of recuperation. For two, now that he has the chance, it might be worth it to hear where he actually stands with all that's happened, how he feels about things.
_________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Posted: Fri Aug 30, 2019 7:36 am Post subject: What the hell are we talking about?
Novelest_Ninjagirl wrote:
I snicker every time your characters use phrases like this, now that they're in places where 'hell' isn't figurative any more. I love it.
Yeah, I'm also amused how often every day terms get turned around in the context of this story. I'm bummed Lordy isn't around right now, I think he would enjoy all these references.
Thanks for reading! That's one for the shelter. I'll leave the suggestion phase open for a week, then we'll go for a week into voting.
Posted: Mon Sep 16, 2019 8:55 am Post subject: No outline
Chinaren wrote:
Ah, sorry I missed the vote and all Lebs. I'll hopefully be around for next time!
Good to see you again, Chinaren. Should have a chapter soon... should have been out already but it's been a little crazy and I was struggling to sort out a good outline to start with. Got it worked out now, so I'll get some writing done today.
Posted: Wed Sep 18, 2019 3:07 pm Post subject: Chapter 8: The Enemy of My Enemy's Enemy
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 8: The Enemy of My Enemy’s Enemy
Martin’s memories of his brother felt more real in this place, painfully bittersweet. Pulling him out of a fight that wasn’t his own~Hollering at the graduation ceremony~Laughing milk out of their noses. He folded up the Missing poster and put it in the glove box. Not now, there was unfinished business.
Using a map he found with lots of scribbles and revisions, he drove to the Coleridge Building, a gleaming white skyrise with gold trim and thousands of green dollar bills fluttering down from the roof in the Heavens. The lines outside stretched out of sight, enforced by men in black combat gear. Business was good. Fucking figures Eldon would have them eating out of his hands. The express line appeared to be on an upper balcony crowded with taxis and shuttles. Even getting into the building looked like it would take all day. Luckily, Martin had an eternity.
As a habit, Martin checked the fuel gauge, which was down to half. What fueled it, he had no idea. He didn’t remember seeing any gas stations. He drove around the building many different ways, spiraling up, staring through windows where possible (which it usually wasn’t). Unraveling spools of stock tickers ~ Swimming pools of gold coins ~ Furnishings that looked like abstract art. No sign of Eldon, but this was his kind of place for sure.
Martin prowled for hours, then days, looking for chinks in the armor and a glimpse of his target. The fuel gauge never went down, it just stuck at halfway and kept him rolling. He didn’t need to eat, though he still got cravings, and he slept in the taxi, though only a few hours at a time before the nightmares got to him. Jezebel laughing at a new torture ~ Piggy screaming in fire ~ So many images of Brian as a corpse.
More time and still no Eldon, but he picked out a few likely places to break in. But then what? Wander around calling out his name? As he contemplated in the back seat, half-asleep, a limousine drifted alongside of him. The door swung open and a gorilla of a man yanked him out.
Martin wisecracked, “Hey, I’m not taking any riders, can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?” He’d been jumped before, so he knew right away this thug and his gang meant business. There were four of them, meaner looking than a pack of wolves. Veiny muscles ~ Scars and tattoos ~ Sneering faces. A long-limbed dark-haired man had the bearing of a leader but he didn’t speak. He just stared at Martin and Martin stared back. The intensity of the moment grew until Martin broke the silence with a laugh.
Martin said, “Dude, what the hell do you want?” He took a punch for his insolence, but shot a glare at the one who did it as if to tell him he would be counting those punches and someday he would settle the score. The boss told him to go easy. Then he spoke up,
“You’re Martin Wymont.”
Martin said, “Yeah, and who are you, the tooth fairy?”
The boss raised a hand to stop the next punch before it landed. He said, “I’ve seen you casing this place, so busy looking in you haven’t noticed people looking at you from the outside. I understand you have something of a vendetta against Gabriel Eldon.”
“You act like you know a lot about me, how about you tell me who I’m talking to?”
“My name’s Gino Romano. My family has been influential in Purgatory for hundreds of years. If you hadn’t been hiding under a fucking rock for the last year, you’d know me already.”
“All right, Gino Romano, what do you want?”
“You like seafood?”
“You taking me on a date, Gino?” Another raised fist had to be held back. Then Gino throttled Martin’s throat himself. The move was a blur and reach was greater than Martin expected.
Gino said calmly, “Most people who talk to me like that get thrown into the Pit. No one hits the bottom there, they just keep falling forever or if they’re lucky they end up in the hands of a devil. As it happens, I’m feeling merciful and I have an important proposition for you.”
Martin struggled to get breath as the henchmen held him in place. He thought of Piggy in eternal oblivion. It was peaceful. Only when Gino loosened his grip was Martin able to cough and say,
“Fine! God damn! … I always wanted to try lobster anyway.” He put on a tough face, but going anywhere near that Pit again wasn’t something he wanted to do.
“Good. Jules, take us to the Poseidon,” Gino said to the driver.
Martin looked back at his taxi and wondered how he would get back to it. He parked it 100 feet above the promenade. It felt safer that way, but apparently not so safe. He carefully watched the route they took and hardly listening to Gino talk about how powerful the Romano family was and how generous they were to their friends. The grand criminal dynasty ~ Politicians and angels in their pockets ~ blah blah blah. He was glad to get to the Aquarius Casino, the one he saw before with the submerged Greek temples. The limo dove straight into the side of the giant block of water that apparently had no glass walls. Martin fought the urge to open a window and instead enjoyed the view of numerous aquatic life. Flitting manta rays ~ phosphorescent schools ~ chameleon octopuses. His favorites were definitely the mermaids. He grinned at their graceful undulations and enticing smiles.
He said, “I’ll have a big plate of that.”
They entered the restaurant surreptitiously and took backways to a private booth on a balcony where they had a discrete view. The sumptuous restaurant had no water in it but the servers were all mer-people swimming through the air. Animated ocean murals ~ Resplendent crystal chandeliers ~ Ambulant marble statues. One wall was water held in place by who knows what. Chefs prepared the food nearby in an open kitchen and used long hooks to pull fish and such out. Servers scrambled to attend to Gino, showing utmost servility as they brought him to a table reserved just for him. They sat Martin in the middle of the booth.
Martin said, “Give a brother a little elbow room, would ya?” Then he asked himself what they would do if he needed to use the bathroom before remembering that wasn’t a concern at all. “Do I get a menu or something?”
Gino said, “You don’t know what you want, I’ll do the ordering.” He proceeded to order things Martin had never heard of before and he wasn’t sure if it was because they were in Purgatory or because he’d been raised on mac and cheese.
The swimming of the servers ended up being a very convenient way to hand off plates and refill drinks without reaching over tables. More than once Martin was surprised by his glass being refilled from a long stream from above. They had expert marksmanship. The food was amazing, fittingly like he hadn’t eaten in months, and he still had no idea what it was, even when he really tried to work out what kind of meat was drowning in the white sauce.
Gino started talking, “All of this comes with a price, and I’m not talking about food. I’m talking respect. They know when to expect me, where to seat me, and how to treat me and my guests. You could spend a millennium and leave a twenty percent tip and not have a real understanding. This is how it is with everyone. All of the casinos in this part of town respect the Romanos but I’ll give you two guesses what arrogant fuck set up business in our part of town and won’t deign to hear our terms.”
Martin replied, “The only arrogant fuck I’m concerned about is Gabriel Eldon.”
“That’s where we see eye to eye. I’d like to teach him some respect but the man is untouchable, graced from on high. This guy must shit ambrosia. A legacy so ancient their family still considers Jesus the new kid on the block.”
“First of all, what the hell is ambrosia? Second, I don’t give a shit. You just show me where he is and I’ll make him pay.”
“You see, all of this disrespect from you and all I want to do is give you the means to live out your violent dreams. I’ve been looking for you, Marty. I know where you come from. You never had the advantages of a strong family.”
“You better back the fuck up if you’re going to start talking about my family.”
“Fair enough, anyone talks about my family, I cut their nuts off, but all I mean is you never had the means. I want to invite you to join our family, unofficially. You do a little dirty work for us and we take care of you.”
“You know where he is?”
“Of course I know where he fucking is, but more importantly, I know where he will be. You don’t want to fuck with him on his home turf, Marty. You end up worse than dead. You wait till he goes out and strike like lightning.”
“Where’s the catch?”
“Look at this guy, thinking ahead. You know, I’m going to give you the mafia special. You fuck this up, you’ll wish you had Hell to look forward to. If the Celebrantia catch a whiff of this little agreement, you’ll suffer, my friend, I swear it.”
“And just to wrap up all of the questions and give you another chance to threaten me, what if I don’t think I need your help?”
“A real fucking tough guy, huh? The fuck you want to say no to help for? You need more reasons? You want me to drag that sorry-excuse-for-a-doctor brother of yours into this? Let me explain something to you, you aren’t worth my time. I got a closet full of tough guys, they’re fucking falling out of the sky. You want to do this, you do it. If you’re gonna be a fool, I’ll let my guys fight over who gets to turn you in for the bounty and you can fuck off. Give him a damn card.”
It wouldn’t take much more pushing to get him really mad, but Martin put up a surprising level of self-restraint considering how much this asshole reminded him of Eldon. So smug and untouchable. Was it worth helping one piece of shit to deal with another? At least this one never killed his brother. He took the damn card, just a calling card for someone not present. A handler. He was still considering if he should find one of Gino’s holes to shove it in when a mermaid swam over with a giant clam shell being wheeled in behind her.
Gino asked, “What’s this?”
“Sir, it’s a gift left for you this morning.”
Martin dropped under the table the instant the shell started to open. He’d seen enough mob movies to expect a trap, a bomb or something, that or a beautiful woman but he made his decision not to take the chance. The blasting of a machine gun and raining of bullet shells made it clear it was a trap. The throaty laughter made it clear it wasn’t a beautiful woman. The four captors’ remains were drooling off the perforated seat when the shooting stopped. The laughing continued, emphatically. He would keel over at this rate.
Gasping between laughs, he said, “You’re It! … I fucking … I fucking love this!” The assailant’s boots touched the ground, the old-fashioned tommy gun dangled at his side. Martin pulled out his own gun. The server cried out and swam over to the remains. She begged for mercy, saying she had no idea, and in desperation she started scooping the slimy goo into a glass. “Oh, honey,” the assailant said slowly recovering, “Don’t worry, it’s just a prank. A little friendly rivalry, isn’t that right Gino?” As he called out Gino’s name he looked under the table and down the barrel of Martin’s gun.
Martin yelled, “Drop it, motherfucker!”
The man backed up but didn’t drop nor raise the gun. He said,
“You’re not one of Gino’s boys. What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through,” Martin said as he stood up. The man wore a derby a little small for his head, he was red-faced and even now very jolly looking. “You’re really happy with yourself aren’t you?”
“Oh I live for this stuff. Plus I’ve been waiting in that clam shell for hours, I’m happy to get out.”
“You better drop that gun!”
“No, I don’t think I will.”
“You don’t think I’ll shoot?”
“I think you have it in you, I just don’t care. They might, though,” the man said, nodding toward the area behind Martin, but he wasn’t taking his eyes off of the man with the gun. “Gino isn’t here to explain things, I got a car waiting. I’ll give you lift. The least I could do after spoiling your dinner.”
Martin could hear the boots and yelling. He started running. The man patted him on the back as he ran with him.
The man asked, “So what did he want with you, anyway?”
“I’m not telling you!”
They ran through the corridors, their pursuers not far behind. They would probably lose them if the man would stop giggling.
Martin asked, “What’s with you?”
“Hey, I’m having a good time. My name’s Charlie, what’s yours?”
“Jared.”
“Not Martin Wymoth?”
“Wymont and does everyone know me now?” Martin said and turned his gun on Charlie.
“Hold up, I think I dropped my keys…. No wait, there they are. Yeah, everyone’s talking about you. Been wondering when you’d turn up. Bounty that big is going to turn some heads.”
“How big is it now?”
“Five years. You’re embarrassing them, you know. They have your face all over the place. You’re not supposed to be let loose without your time. Real slip up. How’d you manage it?”
“Not important,” Martin said pulling the hammer of his gun to try to make his point, but Charlie was still not intimidated.
“Well, five years ain’t a bad start, but I think you could do a lot better. We could use a guy like you in the Fraternity of Loki.”
“Are you serious?” Martin asked. Charlie nodded cheerfully. “And what’s in it for me?”
“We’ll help you get that rich insurance guy. Hell, that sounds fun!”
“You got a card or something?”
“No, but we got tattoos. Check it out, I got mine on my ass,” Charlie said and bared the green tattoo of two snakes intertwined.
“You’re a lunatic.”
“In my circles, that’s a compliment. So what do you think?”
DP: Does Martin join a faction? If not, what does he do instead?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Fri Oct 25, 2019 5:19 am; edited 1 time in total
Oh. i liked the start of this, but I still think you're rushing it a bit, from the second half anyway.
Am enjoying though.
Personally, I wouldn't join a gang unless I had too, so I'd put him off. Say you're interested, but not now. In the meantime, see what you can get out of him for free, so to speak.
I am woefully behind. These comments are in reference to chapter 6. I will do my best to catch up.
Quote:
He accepted his fate and slept in a locked dumpster that looked exactly the same as the one they found Brian Wymont in.
After the torture recap, I thought this line was very, very poignant. It allows us as the reader to see a side to Martin that we hadn't up till now. The rage and revenge had consumed him and led him here, in this confounding middle area - and now in the hands of a devil and pain and torture. With this one line it shows that maybe he can see past what has led him here and on some level, even if it is a small one, empathize with the source of his rage. Or at least that is what this one reader inferred into it.
Quote:
Then while they were alone, Garbage asked Piggy, “Why don’t we vanish?” Piggy smiled almost imperceptibly. She put her hand on Garbage’s cheek and quietly replied,
“We belong here. You know it. I know it.”
“How do you know?”
“We’re bad people, Martin.”
Quote:
“I don’t deserve it,” she said.
“You’re wrong. I’ve been there, you are worth everything! You just need help!” Martin said… it was Martin talking this time. She shook her head vigorously, she shut her ears against his words.
“Stop it! Don’t make me feel!
Okay, I know this is a large clip of stuff that is quoted but it was necessary. For me this was so nice and I really loved this dialogue. There is so much to say here, but in my eyes this dialogue - if you will pardon the unintended pun - speaks for itself. Its deep, raw and for me strikes with a resonance that I love. _________________ A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracian
Good to see you again, Emporer! Thanks for the feedback, I feel particularly self-conscious about the dialogue, but still feel that's how it would go. I'm glad you acknowledged the dumpster as well. It is a particularly important icon of his story.
Chinaren, funny you mention the second half in particular felt rushed. I was writing those lines at work, with one eye looking over my shoulder, but I was already a week behind my relaxed schedule so I was determined to keep writing. That said, even when I'm working on changing the pace, I still end up with something rather pulpy.
Key, thanks for your suggestions, we'll put up a poll option for each of the two gangs.
The poll as it's looking now:
Don't join a faction but leave options open and try to get some help from Charlie
Join the Romanos
Join the Fraternity of Loki
Firstly, I am your tiebreaker! Secondly, some specific impressions:
Quote:
His favorites were definitely the mermaids. He grinned at their graceful undulations and enticing smiles.
He said, “I’ll have a big plate of that.”
Because I am tired, I legit thought for half a second that he was genuinely wanting to eat mermaid flesh. And I was intrigued by the twist, since mermaids often devour humans in the fairytales! Then my brain caught up and I realized Martin was being a perv again. XD none of these are complaints, just an interesting path your story sent my brain on, which I wanted to share.
Quote:
He proceeded to order things Martin had never heard of before and he wasn’t sure if it was because they were in Purgatory or because he’d been raised on mac and cheese.
This, paired with the lobster comment from earlier, help add more dimension to Martin's life, now that we're in his death. It's a nice way of demonstrating how hard-up his family was, especially in comparison to people like Gino and Eldon, without outright saying so. I also really liked the imagery behind the servers serving drinks from above!
Quote:
Martin dropped under the table the instant the shell started to open. He’d seen mob movies to expect a trap, a bomb or something, that or a beautiful woman but he made his decision not to take the chance. The blasting of a machine gun and raining of bullet shells made it clear it was a trap.
You got me, you jerk! I totally didn't see that coming, because unlike our intrepid protagonist, I haven't watched any mob movies. Brava! though I think there's supposed to be an 'enough' in that 'he'd seen mob movies' line.
As for more general impressions, I agree that it feels a little rushed. If this weren't an SG, needing to end on a decision point, my suggestion would have been to flesh out the actual casing of the building, as well as meeting and dining with Gino, and end that chapter on the shell rolling out, then do a new chapter with a fleshed out Charlier interaction. ((These suggestions stand for if you edit this later, once it's completed and options have been decided))
Sorry this took me so long to get caught up on! _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Posted: Fri Oct 25, 2019 5:24 am Post subject: Something broken that I don't want fixed.
Oh you broke the tie! In that case I can't use it for an excuse anymore. I better write another chapter.
Poll closed before anyone can tie it up again. Thanks for the feedback! I'll begin writing and we'll see if easing up on the strict schedule will improve the writing, since I'm still having difficulty finding time to do the work in even a bi-weekly schedule.
Join or Not?
Don't join a faction but leave options open and try to get some help from Charlie [ 2 ]
Join the Romanos [ 0 ]
Join the Fraternity of Loki [ 1 ]
Total Votes : 3
Who Voted: Chinaren, Key, Novelest_Ninjagirl
Posted: Wed Oct 30, 2019 5:44 am Post subject: Chapter 9: The Short Trip
Warning: this story has violence, swearing, gore, and sexual themes.
Chapter 9: The Short Trip
Martin started to respond, saying “Listen” but Charlie stopped him.
“Hold it right there, you don’t have to sign nothing in blood, hell, you don’t have to promise anything. Let me help you out. Come for the laughs, stay for the murder! You won’t regret it. Oh, and here’s the car.”
“What did you do, steal it from a parade?” Martin asked, looking at the large swan-shaped vehicle (and he wasn’t so sure it was a vehicle yet).
“I’m driving. You can ride in its breast, its ass, or on top.”
“I see you like to keep a low profile.”
“Not anymore. You know what I did in life?”
“Drug dealer.”
“Good guess. No, I sold health insurance.”
“Did you have any for yourself? Because you clearly need to be taking something.” Sounds of pursuit were getting closer, so Martin shook his head and looked for the door handle, which wasn’t easy.
Charlie looked grim and serious, though he was currently ignoring the fact that security was coming quickly. He stood there for his little monologue. “You might say I did. You might say I didn’t. When I needed it most, my own company wasn’t there for me. But I’m not mad about it.”
“Where’s the door!?”
“Dying is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Tell me about it on the way, OK?”
“You see Martin, I was like you,” Charlie said, then he faced the three pursuers just coming into sight. One of them shot off a round as Charlie lifted his machine gun and lit them up. Their bodies did a little machine gun chacha before dropping to the ground. He smiled. “I used to take things so seriously. You have to take time to appreciate life!” He said and pointed at the gooey bullet-riddled bodies with his gun.
Martin pleaded, “I swear to God I will, Charlie, now please get this damn thing moving!” The sound attracted more security, they seemed to be on all sides now and closing in.
“Yeah, OK,” he said and he lifted the swan’s wing to hop inside. Martin finally found the door under the other wing and jumped in as well. The swan launched out into the neon studded darkness, and extended its wings leaving the cab exposed on both sides and precious little room for a person to ride.
Martin yelled, “This shit ain’t cool!”, as they began a 100 foot dive. They swooped through the thick layer of smoke at impressive speed.
Charlie said, “Where was I?”
Martin said dully, “You’ve been shot,” referring to an obvious bullet wound in his arm.
“What, that? It’s nothing! Literally. Watch this,” Charlie said and he waved his hand over the hole. Like wiping off a smudge, it was gone. “Hey, what’s that behind your ear?”
“Get outta here,” Martin said, smiling in spite of himself. He couldn’t help it, especially when Charlie revealed the bullet as though he found it. “How the hell did you do that?”
“Same way I do this,” Charlie said and he threw the bullet away and it instantly turned into a white dove. “The same way everything works around here.”
“You sure you weren’t a magician?”
Charlie shook his head and said, “I told you, I sold insurance. I worked for your favorite person, Gabriel Eldon, for about 20 years.”
“You worked at HealthBridge?”
“Yep. it was a comfortably boring life taking advantage of other people living comfortably boring lives. Working at that company made me sick. It’s surprising I didn’t kill myself, but luckily I got cancer. The big boss was fighting cancer too, so I thought he’d take care of me, but not so much. Turns out people fighting for their lives don’t have much strength for wrestling with insurance, so it’s easy to pull one over on them. So anyway they have a lot of practice and I knew I was beat. Then I died and saw this place and it all came together. I realized just how ridiculous the universe was.”
Martin spoke gravely, “That’s why I’m here to set things straight.”
“Think so, cowboy? Think killing him here will make everything right?”
“No, there needs to be more. I need to figure out how to really make him pay.”
“He’s pulling his same tricks here as he did on Earth. His customers can’t collect if they’re already in Judgement. He’ll be living the high life in Purgatory for thousands of years.”
“I can’t let that happen. If it takes a thousand years, I’ll get him. My clock hasn’t even started.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s a real gasser.”
Martin said, “So give me some ideas.”
Charlie gave out a long “hmmmmmmmmm” as he thought. Meanwhile, they glided toward what appeared to be a haunted mansion. Green fire burned all around it and enormous mirrors flew around or floated in the air. All sorts of strange things went in and out of the mirrors, mostly magician’s props, like top hats, wands, cards, rabbits, ghosts, saws.... Martin was just becoming aware of it and growing concerned. White Smoke ~ Endless Tunnels ~ Abrupt shifts of perspective.
“Where are we going?”
“The Hall of Mirrors. It’s a trip, my man, I love it. I think you’ll actually hate it, but they know some seriously amusing tricks that will be useful. Eldon hasn’t been here long enough to know ‘The Secret’, though maybe someone tried to tell him. He may still be vulnerable.”
Martin said mockingly, “What’s ‘The Secret’?” with finger quotes.
“This is kind of a Wizard of Oz thing. You wouldn’t believe it, not really, if I just told you. You know I’m crazy, and I need to bring you down to my level before you’ll understand.”
“Sounds like you want to drive me insane.”
“You’re catching my drift, good on you. Honestly, you have enough hints already to figure it out if you were ready.”
The swan landed, then turned its head and honked at Martin as though to tell him to get out.
Martin screamed, “This damn thing is alive!?” He jumped out and put some distance between them. The swan took off, leaving Charlie and Martin in front of a spiked iron gate.
Charlie spoke up, “No.”
“What is it?”
“A figment of my imagination.”
“You imagined it into existence?”
“Right again, Martin. I’m going to open this gate for you, but you need to decide now if you’re going in.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“If only that were true.”
Martin showed more trepidation than he meant to. He’d already fallen into a trap and suffered for it. Now he had to keep an eye over his shoulder for a devil too. He wanted help, but this place didn’t look like help. It looked like curses and suffering. Wretched things peeking through black windows ~ Swirling pools of blood and slime ~ Ubiquitous moaning on the edge of awareness. Surely Charlie was a certifiable mad man and there was no guarantee he meant to help anyone. In fact he killed 7 people in the short time since they met.
“I’m not afraid, I’m just not stupid either.”
“Oh my god, what do you think I’m going to do, steal your kidney? If you want, I’ll take you somewhere else, but if you want my help, this is where it starts.”
“I’ve never needed anyone’s help before, why start now?”
“Now that’s just a god damned lie and you know it. Maybe this isn’t for you, after all. Maybe you should go see your brother first.”
“I’m getting sick of everyone knowing my business.”
“Nothing you can do about it. You’re a celebrity now. Hell, you could probably start your own gameshow, if you have a decent idea. Of course, then you’d be advertising yourself to the agents of Death… and it wouldn’t help you in your mission of revenge… so yeah, never mind all that. Here’s an idea, we go in, guns blazing, and just kill the son of a bitch. Maybe not a final solution, but it will feel good. We’re pretty much guaranteed to die immediately afterward, and who knows what they’ll do with our remains, not that it matters.”
“Just let me think a second,” Martin said.
DP: What is Martin’s next decision?
Last edited by Lebrenth on Mon Nov 04, 2019 9:36 am; edited 1 time in total
I feel like saying something like this should have an Effect™ in this place, and I'm definitely holding my breath to see if it does.
Quote:
“Sounds like you want to drive me insane.”
He said, while riding in a swan-thing that exposes it's sides to glide. I feel like it's not much of a trip for Martin boy XD
I can't tell if this chapter was shorter or just less bogged down with details, but it was refreshingly quick to read compared to your others so far! It's nice to change the feeling for the sake of pacing. I'm enamored with Charlie, to be honest, which has me afraid, because my favorite characters have a tendency of going evil or dead. Though... he might already be both, if I'm honest.
As for Martins next decision, I say he goes in. Sure, he's fallen for one trap already, but at least this one isn't deceptive and attractive. He's flown into the honey and it wasn't to his taste, might as well sip the vinegar. _________________ My latest SG! (Image courtesy of the lovely Lebrenth)
Yeah, I like Charlie too. Seems like of all the people we've met here, he seems to have the best grip on what's going on. I wouldn't trust him to keep us safe, exactly, but I think he's telling the truth when he says this place can help us. I say go in.
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Just sugar coat it a little, thanks!
To answer the question that you'd asked, I personally don't think the quality of writing is the issue. I like what's happening, I think there are really clever lines (like the ones Emperor pointed out), and I'm invested throughout the chapter, and I want to see what happens next. There really isn't any "criticism" in the strictest sense of the word. The only reason I say that it's rushed is I felt like a lot of concepts were introduced, and I personally don't fully understand all of them. I have a clearer image of the place we're in. But there are some things I'm confused about. I only have a vague idea of the concept of Time, and a vague idea of the character and his motivation. I know Gabriel killed his brother, but that's about all I know. I don't know who Martin is as a person, and I know almost nothing about the brother. This backstory seems central to the plot, so I'd like more information on that. So my opinion is that I'd prefer longer chapters, at least until some of these things are explained.
I totally didn't see that coming, because unlike our intrepid protagonist, 